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tarlos-spain · 1 year

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I'm so excited to start posting this work. I have to say that if it exists is thanks to @fandomtrumpshate and it's thanks to @trickzill-art that decided to ask me for an original work.

So here it is.

Summary: Santi has had the luck of writing a best seller, but now, a year later, seems like he can't come up with anything else. Not until he met Joseph, a young barista with big dreams for the future. Thanks to him, Santi finds new motivation, just like Joseph is reminded of what is really worth fighting for.

Chapter 01

Santiago took the book from the shelf. "The Beat of a Rebel Heart" was the title his publisher had recommended for his first novel. It had seemed stupid, he had tried to come up with his own ideas but none of them had convinced the publisher.

"You've decided to launch yourself on the market under a pseudonym, I think it's perfect." Oliver, his publisher, had told him when they were talking about the promotion of the first novel. "But that also takes away your visibility. You'll never be Santiago Carreras, the young promise of gay young adult novels. If all goes well, your book will have a movie on Netflix or Hulu, but no one will link it to anyone but Berta Carros. Are you sure by the way with that name?"

"It was my grandmother's name, she got me started writing, she read my first stories and told me I had talent, while my father told me I wouldn't get anywhere with words. I owe it all to her."

"Ok, Berta Carros it is, then...I still think we could find something more commercial like Vanesa de la Fuente or something like that."

"It doesn't impress me that you call my book whatever you want." Santiago told him. "But my pen name won't be touched."

The book had been a success. Sales were higher than other books of the same style or so Oliver had told him, after all Santiago didn't care about those kind of numbers; his passion was writing, he had his first book for sale and by the looks of it a huge part of the potential audience for stories about gay teens liked it.

Soon half the bookstores in the city had copies of his book and New York was full of bookstores everywhere. Amazon picked up on the success and sales of the digital version began to climb and not just in English. His book was selling in Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, French and German.

Within months, the name Berta Carros had fan pages on Facebook, Tumblr and one day, Sandra, his best friend, sent him some links to some well-known sites where people were writing fanfiction. They had started writing things with his characters, Robert and Myles.

He put the book back on the shelf, although he moved it to the right place. Someone had put it in the romance section, along with Wild Love at the Ranch and The Executive and the Carpenter.

No one remembered his book anymore, it had been an incredible few months, but it was over as quickly as it had come. A year later, Berta Carros was only remembered by the few remaining fans of his book, those who were waiting for a sequel that Santiago knew would never come and those who wondered when Berta Carros would release his second book for sale.

Oliver, his publisher wondered that too, almost every day now and that day when he heard and noticed the vibration of his phone in his pocket, he realized it was no different.

"O. Talbot" was written on the screen of his phone. He stepped out of the bookstore, took a sharp breath and answered the call.

"Santiago, my boy, how's it going?"

"Oliver you called me yesterday, I assure you my life hasn't changed at all."

"Hmmm, I'm not going to say I like hearing that, but tell me you're still writing."

"I'm still writing, yes, but I can't confirm to you that I have Berta's next book in hand."

"Do you know when that will be?"

"Oliver, you ask me that same question every day and you know what the answer is.”

"Yeah, yeah. You don't function well under pressure, but Santiago, a year ago you decided to enter the world of literature and as romantic as writers' lives may have seemed in the past, we all have a deadline now, I as an editor have a minimum number of books to submit to those at the top and for that, you writers have to submit your manscripts to me. It's a chain that has to work perfectly."

"I know and I'm sorry. I'm trying to come up with the perfect story. I don't want to write something mediocre or...."

"Santiago, boy." He hated it when Oliver or anyone else called him that, with that tone of superiority. "We're talking about books that sell to teenagers and adult women who..."

"Oliver. I wrote my first book to tell my own story of that teenage boy who does coming out, who stands up to his parents, who shows them who he really is, and who falls in love."

"Yeah, yeah, it was a very nice and sentimental book, I won't deny it." Oliver said and then there was silence. Santiago figured he was looking for the best words not to bother him anymore and not gamble that he would go to another publisher with his new book, when he had it written. "What I wanted to say is that I'm not asking you to write the new Divine Comedy, it doesn't even have to be a book as special as your first novel. I just need Berta Carros to have a new book on the market for the Christmas campaign, do you think that would be possible?"

"Well, it's nine months."

"Exactly it's like a pregnancy, it's going to be our baby, Santiago, boy."

Santiago felt like cutting the call short when he heard that. Oliver Talbot wasn't his favorite person in the world, but he was the one who had put his trust in him with his first book. He owed him that much.

"I guess I can make an effort and get something out."

"Would you have a general idea for the day after tomorrow?"

"The day after tomorrow?" Santiago asked, stopped in the middle of the street and stared at nothing. "Well, I guess I can get a couple of days out and we can discuss them."

"Great! That was precisely what I wanted to hear. Talk to you in two days."

Oliver cut the call short almost before Santiago could say goodbye.

After the call he needed a coffee, a large one just the way he liked it, with cream, cinnamon, lots of vanilla and chocolate chips. He was not far from his favorite coffee shop, the place where he had found much of the inspiration to write his first novel.

He was sure that there he could find what he needed to get his second book off the ground.

But first he needed a coffee.

It was almost noon when he entered. In the mornings and especially on weekends, the Finca del café was a busy place because of the number of cyclists, teams, families and friends who passed by for breakfast. But at noon like now, the café was usually emptier and quieter, the perfect place to sit with his computer next to the coffee he so desperately needed.

He didn't have to look at the coffee list, he didn't need to in order to make his exact request. He walked up to the counter, he knew all the baristas that worked there. Connor usually took note of what he wanted and often didn't even ask him what he wanted because he already knew them.

"What can I get you?" said an unfamiliar voice that made him look up.

A pair of green eyes, a luminous smile and slightly tousled light brown hair completed him over a tag with Joseph's name buttoned to the shirt.

The barista was new, or at least, he had never seen him before. He would certainly remember him, because he was the most handsome man Santiago had seen in a long time.

"Chocolate mocha, not too hot."

"To go?"

"No, I'll take it here, I usually spend a lot of mornings here, working."

"Oh," Joseph picked up one of the cups and a marker, with an even wider smile on his lips. "That sounds like you're a big shot. Writer looking for inspiration for his next book? Have you written anything I might have read?"

"I had a book out last year. It had some success, but I don't think you know it. Plus I wrote it under a pseudonym."

"I read a little bit of everything. Come on, test me, maybe I’m making your coffee and I’m a fan of yours, even if I don’t know it."

Santiago reacted with a nervous chuckle at the barita's charming laugh.

"I don't think so, but okay. "The beat of a rebellious heart."

Joseph was filling the coffee cup with the milk and then the foam, but stopped short and looked up to Santiago and stared at him like someone looking at an impossible apparition of a ghost.

"You're not serious." Joseph sentenced. "You haven't written that book, because "The Beat of a Rebel Heart" is written by a woman, Berta Carros and I can't wait for her to write her next book."

"That's a long way off because Berta doesn't even have an idea for her next novel."

Joseph opened his mouth, but closed it and gasped again like a fish sticking its head out of the water. He stood there, staring at Santiago as his boss tried to get his attention from the other end of the bar.

"Wait, you are serious. You wrote 'The Beat of a Rebel Heart'. You're Berta Carros."

Santiago put a finger to his lips. He hated having used that name, hated having had that stupid idea to create the pseudonym for himself. At first he hadn't been proud to write a novel for teenagers, no matter how much it was a story of two boys falling in love and then it had caught the critics' attention because of the realism Berta had demonstrated. By then, Berta Carros had made a name for herself with her first book and Oliver Talbot had thought it a good idea to keep her there and use the same pseudonym on subsequent books.

Joseph set the cup of coffee in front of him, one twice as big as he had ordered and as he was about to say something to the barista, the barista put a finger to his lips smiling.

"I've already told you that you're my favorite author. It's a gift."

Santiago accepted it as Joseph went to make the next coffee, retired to his usual table, put down his coffee, pulled out his computer and headphones, put his cell phone on charge and took a seat.

He stood there for a moment watching the barista work, talking to his colleagues, laughing, being charming to the customers and not noticing that there were two girls in line waiting to be served by him, amidst the silly giggles at how much they liked the barista.

He opened the computer and looked at the blank page of the blank document he had not yet started working on. He took a deep breath, he had been having small panic attacks for days at the thought of trying to write something for his new story.

And suddenly, the image of Joseph about ten years younger appeared in front of him, as if from a movie. Teenage Joseph, full of dreams, wanting to be... Joseph wanted to help everyone, in high school wanting to make everyone around him happy. That Joseph wanted to be a doctor... no, a veterinarian.

Little by little his new protagonist began to take the shape of the green-eyed barista with the perfect, radiant smile in front of him.

"A latte and a chai tea, please." Said a woman in a suit to Joseph as she gestured towards the table where her partner was seated.

"Good morning Susan, are you setting up a meeting with the folks in New York?"

The woman gave him an uncomfortable look because the barista was talking to her beyond too hot or not hot enough that she wanted coffee. She nodded nervously and paid to walk away to the end of the bar where her order was to be delivered.

"Why do you keep trying?" Amara leaned on the counter next to Joseph and rubbed his back. "People don't want to talk about their private lives with you. You're not their friend and they don't expect your advice over coffee, unless it’s about the perfect cookies to take away."

"But it's so cold, Mar. When I imagined myself working here behind the bar, I imagined I knew the people, many would be the same every day at the same time and that would gradually give us some familiarity."

"You've seen a lot of movies, haven't you?"

"It's not that. It's my dream, that's the kind of coffee shop I want to work in, the one I want to have."

Amara laughed and patted him on the back a couple of times. "So now you want to have your own coffee shop, and where are you supposed to get the money for that?"

Joseph sighed and went on with his work, there were already several glasses and cups to clean on the pike and tables to tidy up.

Most people didn't understand how he could really like that job. Everyone thought that if someone started working as a barista it was because they were waiting for their life's work, because they were studying, because they came from another city, and if it was someone young enough it was because they had left home or it was their first job.

But none of those possibilities fit Joseph.

Joseph was happy there. He was happy getting up early to open and serve the first coffees as winter dawned, discovering the new items that were invited from the central office for each season and was extremely happy drinking pumpkin spice at Halloween until the Christmas coffees arrived.

He loves coffee, and had managed to squeeze a couple of his own recipes into the cookie section.

Of course his friend was right about one thing. Money was a problem, both to study something related to the world of coffee and to open his own place someday.

But he had time and was saving. Everything he earned working there was going to two places, the rent for the apartment he shared with the fireman in 252 who he barely saw because they had crossed shifts and for that dream he slept with every night, getting into hotel school to learn everything he needed to learn to one day open his own café and have everyone fall in love with the world he saw.

A grunt from the writer's table caught his attention. He saw him sigh and close the computer then turn back to the window.

There was no one waiting to order anything at the counter so Joseph decided to take his morning break. He made his coffee as no one else knew how to do, because no one else understood the amounts of milk, lactose free because he was intolerant, sugar, brown, because it was healthier, cinnamon, you always needed some and cream... any decent coffee should have some in it and walked over to the table.

"Upset?" he asked and Santiago turned to him. "I'm not going to ask for your autograph, relax, but I am looking forward to the release of your second book and I'm dying of curiosity to know if it will be a continuation of "heartbeat" or something new."

Santiago laughed nervously, picked up his now empty coffee cup and wrinkled his nose as he realized it was.

"Shall I make you another?"

"You don't want to see me on a caffeine high and that certainly won't be how I start writing anything. No thanks. As for the new book, I'd like to know what it's going to be, too, although the one who's most curious is my publisher, who's about to fire me if I don't get the first draft to him in a few days."

"Wow, sorry to hear that and sorry then that I'm bothering you at the moment of inspiration."

Santiago let out that nervous laugh again, which this time made Joseph smile because he thought it was charming. He opened the computer again and turned it over.

Prologue

My name is Josh, although here at the hospital I am known as Josh "Dr. White's son." My father is the head of the emergency room at New York Presbyterian Hospital and a dozen doctors and twenty-odd nurses work for him.

They all know me, some of them literally were present at my birth and my father says that the most senior nurse in the hospital was the one who helped me cry for the first time.

As "Dr. White's son" I am free to move around wherever I want, except for the operating rooms, although the truth is that I am not too interested in seeing how they open people up, manipulate their organs and fill everything with blood.

But in the rest of the hospital I can go from one place to another without anyone looking at me funny. They all greet me, ask me about my father when they haven't seen him for a few days and ask me, as usual, if I'm going to follow in Dr. White's footsteps and study medicine.

However, today no one approaches me. Maybe it's because it makes them uncomfortable to see me crying inconsolably and they don't know what to say to me, maybe it's because my clothes are a mess, literally scorched, with a couple of holes from pulling and my hair as if I had fought with a herd of angry cats or maybe it's because they don't like the presence of my companion, Jaime, a wonderful Mexican boy who has gotten me into the best trouble these past few months.

Until recently I wouldn't have realized that there are people who look at you because of the color of your skin, the way you talk or any stupid detail that makes you look like one thing or another. But these last few months have opened my eyes, made me realize that the world I was living in was nothing more than a fantasy.

And you know what is the most ironic thing of all, tomorrow is my birthday, tomorrow I turn eighteen. just a year ago, I had the perfect life, the perfect dream, the perfect idea of the future, not to mention the perfect boyfriend, the perfect father and the perfect house.

If you ask me right now what I mean by perfect, my answer is to see my father walk out of the emergency room with a calm expression and hear him say that the heart of the love of my life has started beating again.

"It's horrible isn't it?" Santiago asked and finally breathed again when Joseph looked up from the computer. "I think I'm going to delete it and start over. I don't think..."

"I hope you don't mean that. You just wrote this?" Santiago's eyes widened in shock at the question. "I mean... I don't think it's little, well yes, it's very little and I love it, I want to know what happened to Josh."

A small smile added to the blush on Santiago's cheeks.

"It's the first thing that came to my mind, which is already saying a lot because I had been in the dry dock of inspiration for almost five months. what is it about this place? Because if it has any secrets, I'll come write here every day."

Joseph shrugged, looked back towards the counter, he didn't want any customers to be left waiting, certainly his manager wouldn’t like that either. But for the moment, Amara seemed to have it under control and motioned for him to take his time.

"You're the first writer I've seen here writing, so I don't know what inspired you. But I do know that many of the customers who come through here have told me that the coffee I make is the best they've ever had."

"I agree with them on that." Santiago looked back at the empty cup. "And for that coffee you make I'd like to come back here every morning."

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, until a group of teenagers entered the coffee shop. They were on their way to class and were talking loud enough to disrupt the peace and quiet of the place.

Santiago looked at the time. He had decided to take the morning off to find that idea he needed so badly. Now he had it, it was just a written page, but suddenly his brain was overflowing with ideas that he had to put down on paper.

He stood up with force, so much that he almost knocked the chair to the floor.

"I have to go."

Joseph watched him dart out of the cafeteria, computer under his arm and open backpack full of papers, two or three notebooks and a few other things he hadn't gotten to see. He still couldn't believe he had met the author of his favorite book. When he had woken up that morning he had not imagined that Berta Carros was a man, someone so handsome, nice, attractive and that he would not be able to get him out of his mind.

#Road1985 #Tarlos-Spain #fandom trumps hate #coffee shop #writer #first time #falling in love #idiots in love #Fluff

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adorableamyslifestory · 2 years

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When I feel like I don’t wanna do something

I start writing my blog. It helps me refreshing and that helps me a lot sometimes.

Or sometimes when I feel I don’t want to write, Copying a well written article is another great choice. When I copy a well written article, it makes me to dream that I can be a great writer like she,or he does.

Being a great writer is like being a great baker. Every piece of article brings me hundreds and thousands of flavours and motivation. Sometimes it makes the reader to swim in the ecstasy.

Today, I am going to copy an article from The Newyorker by Max Norman.

- Memoir=전기.실록.

- alter = 바꾸다, 개조하다

- humdrum =단조로운, 평범한

- venerable =존경할 만한

- idiosyncratic= 특유한

(This is a short aritcle by me using the key words that I think are emphasized in the original article)

I am a person with my own idiosyncratic view, which people thinks that I am little bit odd. Depends on how a person is living- how successful they are, people call one with all the different names. “sir”, “witch”,or maybe guy who is little bit “insane”. I want to be a venerable person who writes a memoir. However, to be a person with a glory in whatever way it is, that person should endure a very humdrum life, which can be extremely monotony at the same time.

What We Gain From a Good Bookstore.

It’s a place whose real boundaries and character are much more than its physical dimensions.

“Will the day come where there are no more secondhand bookshops?” the poet, essayist, and bookseller Marius Kociejowski asks in his new memoir, “A Factotum in the Book Trade.” He suspects that such a day will not arrive, but, troublingly, he is unsure. In London, his adopted home town and a great hub of the antiquarian book trade, many of Kociejowski’s haunts- including his former employer, the famed Bertram Rota shop, a pioneer in the trade of first editions of modern books and “one of the last of the old establishments, dynastic and oxygenless, with a hierarchy that could be more or less described a s Victorian”-have already fallen prey to rising rents and shifting winds. Kociejowski dislikes the fancy, well-appointed bookstores that have sometimes taken their places. “I want chaos; I want, above all, mystery,”he writes. The best bookstores, precisely because of the dustiness of their back shelves and even the crankiness of their guardians, promise that “somewhere, in one of their nooks and crannies, there awaits a book that will ever so subtly alter one’s existence.” With every shop that closes, a bit of that life-altering power is lost and the world leaches out “ more of the serendipity which feeds the human spirit.”

Kociejowski writes from the “ticklish underbelly” of the book trade a s a “factotum” rather than a book dealer. His memoir is a representative slice, a core sample, of the rich and partly vanished world of bookselling in England from the late nineteen-seventies to the present. As Larry McMurtry puts it, in his own excellent (and informative) memoir of life as a bookseller, “Books,” “the antiquarian book trade is an anecdotal culture,” rich with lore of the great and eccentric seller and collectors who animate the trade. Kociejowski writes how “the multifariousness of human nature is more on show” in a bookstore than in any other place, adding, “I think it’s because of books, what they are, what they release inn ourselves. and what they becaome when we make them magnets to our desires.”

The bookseller’s memoir is, in part, a record of accomplishments, of deals done, rarities uncovered-or, in the case of the long-suffering Shaun Bythell, the owner of the largest secondhand bookstore in Scotland, the humdrum frustration and occasional pleasures of running a big bookshop, While Kociejowski recounts some of the high points of his bookselling career (such as cataloguing James Joyce’s personal library of briefly working at the fusty but venerable Magg Bros., the anitiquarian booksellers to the Queen), he above all remembers the character he came to know. “I frimly believe the fact of being surrounded by books has a great deal to do with flushing to the surface the inner lives of people,” he writes.

Some of them are famous, like Philip Larkin, who, as the Hull University librarian, turned down a pricey copy of his own first book, “The North Ship,” as too expensive for “That piece of rubbish.” Kociejowski tells us how he offended Graham Greene by not recognizing him on sight, and once helped his friend Bruce Chatwin (”fibber thought he was”) with a choice line of poetry for “On the Black Hill”’ how he bonded over Robert Louis Stevenson with Tatti Smith, and sold a second edition of “Finnegans Wake” to Johnny Depp, of all people, who was “trying incredibly hard not to be recognised and with predictably comic results.” But more precious are the memories of the anonymous eccentrics, cranks, biliomanes, and mere people who simply, and idiosyncratically love books. “Where is the American collector who wore a miner’s lamp on his forehead so as to enable him to penetrate the darker in asking not for books but the old bus and tram tickets often found inside them? Where is the man who collected virtually every edition of The Natural History of Selborne by Reverend Gilbert Whitie? Where is everybody?” Kociejowski’s tone, though mostly wry, cerges on lament. “I cannot help but feel something has gone out of the life of the trade,” he writes.

And there are more paragraphs down below that but I have decided not to write. I new see how The Economics is more accessable to all variety of people compare to The Newyorker, Next time, I am going to more prefer to cite from The Economics. Well,, It does not means I learns nothing by copying the articles from The Newyorker but I guess I will be able to learn more if it’s The Economics instead.

#cite #copy #thenewyorker #maxnorman #culturalcomment #what we gain from a good bookstore

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curmudggeon · 3 years

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Southern Hope (Arthur Morgan x Female Reader)

❝ If by any chance...in another lifetime, we happen to see each other again, I'll come and find you. And I'll make you fall in love with me, over and over again ❞

In which romance novelist, Mary-Beth under the pen name of Leslie Dupont, writes a coming of age love story based on her favourite gang members in the past, You and Arthur.

Trigger Warnings; Violence | Blood | Angst | Sexual Intentions

A/N: This is a project I've been working on for quite a while. I had the idea in mind when I had the chance to experience the musical composition of Aaron Copland's quintessential American Dream, 'Appalachian Spring' -one of my favourite pieces with such a beautiful storyline. And I wanted to retell it in the form of a book that is available on my Wattpad (ongoing) for you to enjoy from Mary-Beth's POV. I hope you show love to this book as much as I loved writing it. Have a sneak peek at the prologue!

Read on Wattpad here for more chapters to come!

PROLOGUE

Leslie Dupont; Mary-Beth Gaskill

Lemoyne, Saint Denis

November 1907

“Mademoiselle Dupont, we expect your next manuscript to be submitted by next summer. Now is not the time to be reminiscing.”

Here we go again

Mary-Beth sighed as her editor, Céline Laurent, had warned her once more for not meeting the deadline to her books. She was in a crucial position in her life. After her debut as a romance novelist, The Lady of The Manor was an instant best-seller across the country. It was the kind of thing she specializes in, silly ol’ romances.

“I promise you, I’ll get it done by then.” Or maybe, at least not for now. She shouldn't have promised something she couldn’t keep, especially in the meantime.

“I’ll take your word for that, if you don’t meet the deadline by then. Y’know what will happen to your contract, Leslie.” Céline stood at the door frame of Mary-Beth’s office with hands on her hips and raised eyebrows.

She knew exactly what she had meant. In fact, she knew the consequences on the back of her head when she first signed that contract with her publishing company. Two more books were requested of her. Or else she would be evicted of her apartment and be forced to live along the streets of Saint Denis for the rest of her life. A life of luxury slipping between her fingers.

“Yes, ma’am,” Mary-Beth disclaimed, the moment her editor slammed the door as she left her office. Heaving yet another exaggerated sigh, she crosses her arms on the grand rosewood desk, flopping her head on top of it. “What am I going to do now…” She murmured into the crevice of her arms.

Mary-Beth was in the middle of a major writer’s block for a few months now. She lost sight of that imaginative space of hers, consisting of the most swoon-worthy romances to the picture-perfect life she portrayed through her characters. A part of Mary-Beth that her readers absolutely adored. But, her head was now a clouded space of everlasting void. It was difficult for Mary-Beth to come into terms of writing again, but she couldn’t quite identify what had put her into this position.

Once she gathered the courage to write again, it all came crashing down like violent tidal waves when she came face to the daunting blank page of nothingness —almost drowning her.

It was as simple as that. Come to work, have a cup of tea, sit down, and a blank page.

Every. Damn. Time.

Maybe it was because she was already nearing her mid-thirties, and she hasn’t found someone to sweep her off her feet. Maybe it was when she first held Tilly’s baby that she found the need to be a mother someday. Maybe it was the overwhelming response towards her writing, she felt the need to hide away into an abyss. Or maybe she couldn’t stop thinking about the time she had come across John again after so many years that the memories just come flooding back.

Or maybe, just, maybe. It was because it’s November.

The most dreaded time of the year. November, in which the seemingly fearsome Van der Linde gang had officially broken up. Guns were fired, ties were broken and deaths were grieved. An unforgettable, painful memory.

She would often think about campfire songs, the girls and, Miss Grimshaw’s constant nagging about undone chores. Oh, how best of friends Céline and Miss Grimshaw would have been if she had heard Mary-Beth had been slacking again. It was her coping mechanism, think more about the good times to get rid of the bad ones.

Mary-Beth remembered when she took in her hands at being a matchmaker. Prancing around the camp, she would eye her two best contenders. You and Arthur.

She knew from the start when you had laid your eyes on each other for the first time, she could see through the inexplicable connection in between. You were both extremely awkward when it came to small-talk or addressing each other as you walked by across camp. However, it never stopped Arthur to come to camp as soon as he could just so he could see you, even just for a second.

The conversation would often start with Arthur while on his way to Dutch’s tent,

“Hey,”

“Hey.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Yea sure…”

—and that would be it.

At the same time, every single day, at the course of sunset.

You poor socially inept fools.

Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen would always see the interaction happen in the middle of their afternoon chores. Grinning from ear to ear. They would elbow each other whenever there was something different about the correspondence.

One time, you would walk past him, suddenly kissing him on the cheek and scurrying away.

Arthur would stop in his tracks, stunned, with a hand-over where your kiss tingled on his skin. Then he would look back at you as you laid down, smiling to yourself against a tree with a book in your hands. And Dutch would yell his name, knocking him out of his stupor before he noticed he was staring for a little too long.

The girls would start applauding for your heroic performance, it was like a groundbreaking plot twist Mary-Beth couldn’t wait to write about when the idea came into mind.

The both of you were like a walking excruciating slow, slow-burn romance novel. That was when Mary-Beth would cue in her entrance as matchmaker as soon as the interaction slowly died down. Your story had to have a happily ever after in her book.

She would pester you and Arthur separately, mentioning each other’s names and slipping in hints of romantic intentions from the other side so the both of you can address whatever this relationship was.

Mary-Beth knew it was a mission accomplished the night Sean was rescued back to Horseshoe Overlook. When she stood aside of the camp watching Dutch and Molly ballroom dancing into the moonlight, she caught a glimpse of you and Arthur behind them. Running into the woods, hand in hand, giggling to yourselves like prepubescent teenagers.

After that night, it was a considered job well done when your chance encounters slowly turned into planned ones. He would take you on dates, and you would show him affection like nobody’s business. A perfect couple, your American dream.

Until it became a nightmare.

And Arthur had passed,

your Arthur.

Ever since then, Mary-Beth wondered what had happened to you. Were you still alive after all these years? She couldn’t imagine how hard you must be coping with the news. Or what if you didn’t know at all? Even when she asked John and Tilly, they said you disappeared that night he passed.

Not even a single trace. Where were you?

Mary-Beth dismissed the thought out of her head, lifting her head away from the desk. She had to let go of these memories for her own well-being. For what seemed like yesterday were merely years ago. But it couldn’t have hurt to reminisce just a bit, for old times sake.

The story of You and Arthur was unwritten, left to collect dust from the lack of content. The perfect example of a sepia-tinted photograph, forgotten. Mary-Beth believed the both of you deserved something much more than a devastating ending. She wasn’t as ruthless as the other authors she had met that held an iron fist when killing off their characters. Mary-Beth wasn’t like that.

And the idea came to mind. She was a romance novelist for a reason; to fulfil all the possibilities for the unconditional love you shared.

And so Mary-Beth picked up her beautiful fountain pen,

She began to write on the great desk in her quiet room.

To write the most beautiful story of the century,

You and Arthur. Arthur and you.

A perfect couple. The American Dream.

A life that could have been so much more,

A life to remember…

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dearkusuo · 4 years

Text

Unchanging

Synopsis: He was content with the simplicities life had to offer, while you sought out the world.

Pairing: Saiki Kusuo x artist!reader

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst

Word Count: 3.6k

You first heard of him back in your second year of high school. There was nothing about Saiki Kusuo that stood out to you, but your good friend, Yumehara Chiyo, thought otherwise.

“Don’t you think Saiki looks like a prince? He’s so dreamy that I can’t keep my eyes off of him. He’s so cool and mysterious,” your friend blabbered. If by cool and mysterious, she meant cold and aloof, then you completely agreed.

Even the popular pretty girl, Teruhashi Kokomi, seemed enraptured by him, despite Saiki’s unwillingness to shower her any attention like every guy in school. She never told you about her crush on him, but it was obvious through her body language alone that she was smitten by the pink-haired boy.

You didn’t understand their fleeting infatuation for someone they hardly knew - never experienced the feeling of falling hard for someone from the depths of your soul that they were the only person you could think about. And you were perfectly content with that. You had bigger dreams to achieve than a small high school romance that wasn’t guaranteed to last long anyway.

The Okinawa school trip was an outing that all the second years in PK Academy were looking forward to, you included. Although you had a feeling that your friends, Chiyo and Kokomi, had different intentions for tagging along.

They must have been so elated that the three of you ended up in the same group with the boy they liked.

You carried on disregarding Kokomi and Chiyo’s painfully obvious antics to spend time with their beloved prince charming until later that evening when you decided to take a walk outside the hotel alone. You convinced yourself that a late-night stroll would be an enjoyable pastime, but really, you wanted to get away from the love-struck fantasies of your two friends who were oblivious of the fact that they were both pursuing the same boy.

You don’t know how long you’ve been wandering around, but by the time you returned, the hotel had disappeared from your sight. Two recognizable figures stood by a large hole torn on the ground. A battered ship had risen from the gap where the building used to be.

Toritsuka Reita from Class 2-2 stood next to your pink-haired group member while Saiki had a hand directed at the ship, indicating that he was the one causing it to float midair. Your jaw dropped in disbelief at the sight before you.

Saiki turned his head in your direction as if he knew you were there all along. He kept his usual blank composure, although you could recognize the wary look in his eyes as he stared at you. Toritsuka panicked upon the realization that you were there to witness the whole scene.

You didn’t know how you should've reacted when the two boys told you of their psychic powers.

“I won’t tell a soul,” you promised.

‘I know,’ Saiki’s voice echoed into your mind.

The rest of the trip went by smoothly after that incident. Kokomi subsequently spoke out about the crush she had on Saiki, and Chiyo announced that she had fallen for Kaidou Shun.

You shook your head in wonder at the orange-haired girl. It was astonishing how quickly she was able to abandon her feelings for one boy and move on to someone else so quickly.

You realized that love was brief and ever-changing like the ticking seconds on a clock. There was no point in wasting time on such a fickle emotion when the only thing you would devote yourself to were your ambitions for the future.

Nevertheless, a subconscious bond had been formed between you and Saiki after you learned his secret.

You shared a glance with the psychic from afar as Kokomi relayed to you the dream she had of the boy she liked.

He was kinder and a lot less indifferent than you originally thought. Saiki wouldn’t admit it, but you would notice the subtle acts he performed to help out a troubled stranger and the small deeds he initiated to prevent harm from coming across the people around him.

You finally acknowledged Saiki as a friend after he deliberately shared his umbrella with you during a particularly rainy day.

‘Good grief. I was feeling generous today, so this is nothing. Just make sure to come to school prepared next time,’ he had told you after you first rejected his help in worry of troubling him.

You found out much later that he could have stopped the rain with his abilities.

The empty café was tranquil save for the scratching of your pencil as you scribbled on your sketchbook. Saiki sat across from you, paying you no attention just as you did to him. His usual stoic expression was abandoned as he blissfully devoured his coffee jelly.

“I have a dream. After high school, I’ll travel around the world for a bit. I’ll join a bunch of art competitions and win a bunch of awards. Then eventually, I’ll go to an art school in New York so I can major in Illustration. And maybe I might even make a best-seller manga one day,” you mused.

‘Isn’t it a little too early for us to think about the future?’ Saiki retorted.

“Maybe. But I’ve had this dream for as long as I can remember.”

Art class was the subject you looked forward to the most in school. Not only because you excelled in many art mediums, but also because you took pride in the techniques you honed over the years of endless practice.

For the day’s lesson, you were to pair up with one person in the class and draw each other’s portraits. You casually looked around the room in search of anyone available.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Kokomi rushing up to Saiki with an excited smile as she called out, “Saiki, do you want to-” a majority of the boys in class crowded around her before she could say her piece. Saiki walked up to you instead, asking if you wanted to pair up with him.

You glanced briefly at Kokomi, feeling a tad bit guilty for stealing her choice of partner while she was being surrounded by her group of fans hoping that she would choose one of them. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reject the pink-haired boy’s request.

Taking a seat from across each other, you adjusted your easel so you could get a better view of Saiki’s face. Despite the red tint dusting your cheeks from the intimacy of his peering gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. You perceived for the first time that Saiki was actually quite good looking.

You looked down at your page so you could sketch his appearance: the antennae on his head, his green glasses, soft pink hair, slender neck, smooth lips, chiselled face, sharp eyes. You looked up to take a quick peek at him again.

The constant blinking on his impassive face made your eyes widen in amusement and you frantically placed a hand over your mouth to prevent a snort from escaping.

‘Why are you laughing?’

“Because you’re blinking so much that it looks ridiculous,” you explained with a chuckle.

‘I have to keep on blinking so my x-ray vision resets. I’m trying to get a look at your face.’

You let out another coy giggle despite the heat rushing to the tips of your ears. He looked down at his paper to continue his piece with a warm smile barely present on his face.

You concentrated on your own illustration, marking down his affectionate expression before Saiki could return to his blank face, and showing it off as soon as you finished.

‘Not bad. Now take a look at mine.’

He flipped his paper over, exhibiting an intricate and beautiful portrait. The focused expression he depicted on your face while you drew him looked so alluring. You almost didn’t recognize it as your own, even though it was practically a mirror image.

"This looks way too realistic for someone who's trying not to stand out."

'It should be fine if it's you.'

You didn't understand what he meant, but his words caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

‘I need your help,’ A familiar voice spoke in your mind.

You jumped in surprise at the unexpected appearance of the pink-haired boy you had grown fond of. Your sketchbook flew out of your lap, falling right at your feet.

“How did you know I was here?” You asked with a huff.

‘In case you forgot, I can hear your thoughts. I know that sometimes you like to come here to the school rooftop during lunch.’

“Oh,” you uttered. “Well, since you came all this way to see me, what can I do for you?” You raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

'I need you to help me reject Teruhashi.'

You pursed your lips in uncertainty.

"Kokomi is my friend, and as her friend, you can't expect me to hurt her feelings."

'As my friend, you can't expect me to lead her on when I don't ever intend on returning her feelings. She'll get hurt either way. All I'm asking is for you to help me avoid her so she'll get over me.’

You knew he was right, but you were still unsure of meddling in a situation you weren't a part of, especially when it involved the feelings of your close friend. You looked out the window in contemplation.

“Why are you asking me? Mikoto would be a better choice.”

‘I trust you more, so it has to be you.’

You ignored the churning in your stomach as you casually threw your hands up, giving in to his request.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

‘Thank you.’

Saiki bent down on one knee, reaching out to grab your fallen sketchbook.

“I can pick that up myself, you know, or you if you wanted to help me that badly, you could’ve done that levitation thing you always do.”

‘I know.’

He held the book out, watching you through his glasses while he knelt by your feet. A saying Chiyo once told you a long time ago reverberated at the back of your mind: “Don’t you think Saiki looks like a prince?”

You gripped the sketchbook in his hand. Saiki’s gaze burned on your orbs as your image reflected off his green lenses. Neither one of you let go, even when your fingertips brushed against one another.

“What colour are your eyes?” You wondered.

‘Violet.’

“Major in Economics at Sayftee University and major in Literature at both Komman University and Ahvraj University,” you read out Saiki's school survey. “These are all surprisingly in character for you, but do you really have no dreams beyond living an ordinary life?”

‘I’m too busy thinking of ways to stop the volcano eruption to worry about my future.’

“You have a point there. Any luck with that?” you inquired.

Saiki shook his head.

“I guess that means we’ll be second years again.”

You didn’t keep track of how long time had been looping, and you found that you didn’t really care since you were already accustomed to the familiarity of your seemingly endless high school life. You were happy, even if it meant that the dreams you’ve been chasing for so long were slipping farther away from your grasp with every day that passed.

‘No, it’s about time I put an end to this.’

Saiki’s determined expression was embedded in your mind.

Your screams of disbelief were muffled by the pillow you held against your face.

You had vowed to yourself since you were young that you wouldn’t grow attached to anyone. After all these years, you had to go back on your word just when you were about to leave.

Now was not the time. Not here. Not with him.

Kokomi and Chiyo took it upon themselves to pay you a visit after you skipped school for five days without notice. The dark circles under your eyes and your sunken face visibly worried them.

“I’m in love with Saiki,” you murmured, gazing sullenly at your blue-haired friend. “I’m sorry.”

Kokomi’s face fell, but she showed no signs of surprise.

“I already knew that. It was obvious with the way you always look at him,” she lamented. Kokomi cupped your balled fists in her hands and looked at you wistfully. “He rejected me a few days ago, so you don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. I think you two would look good together.”

You felt tears threatening to spill over your eyes. Whether it was from relief that Kokomi accepted you so easily or pain from your unfortunate situation, you didn’t know.

“I’m leaving Japan after we graduate,” you disclosed.

A dejected silence fell upon you three until Chiyo spoke up, “For how long?”

“An indefinite amount of time.”

“Are you ever coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

Their glum faces only worsened your mood.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

You tensed at the accusing tone directed at you. Saiki’s piercing gaze was pointed at your shrinking figure.

No matter how much time had passed since the loss of his abilities, you doubted that you would ever get used to the sound of his voice resonating out loud, or the enchanting shade of his eyes, even if they looked dangerously menacing at the moment.

“I wasn’t avoiding you. I was just busy studying for exams and doing other stuff,” you explained weakly.

Saiki’s deadpan expression indicated that he didn’t believe your lie.

After a few minutes of squirming underneath his scrutinizing gaze, you gave in and told him your worries, “I’m leaving the country soon. I think we should stop talking to each other so that it won’t be so hard for us to say goodbye.”

You pushed past him. You didn’t know where your feet planned on dragging you, but you figured anywhere was fine so long as you could get away from him.

The familiar warmth of Saiki’s hand wrapped around your own, stopping you from taking another step away. You didn’t dare turn around as you felt your heart thumping wildly.

“I won’t ever ask this of anyone else, so I’m begging you not to push me away,” he pleaded. He placed your hand over his chest, giving away the heavy pulsing of his heartbeat.

You could never say no to him.

Memories of the last few years ran through your mind as you smiled at the nostalgia. You took one final glance at your high school building before turning your back on it, striding towards the exit.

You stopped at the sight of a familiar figure standing under the shade of a cherry blossom tree. Saiki must have known that you were staying much later after the graduation ceremony, all thanks to his restored powers.

‘Good grief. Were you really planning on leaving without saying goodbye?’ His voice resounded in your head.

You didn’t respond as you watched the wind blow through his hair, the sun illuminating the affectionate smile on his face, the violet obscured by his green glasses, and the petals dancing around the two of you as they fell to the ground. The timing was right. The mood was right. Everything was right.

He rubbed the back of your hand while you reached out to intertwine your fingers with his. The warmth that radiated off his skin felt like home.

He knew, and you knew that he did. After all, you could never hide your secrets from a psychic, no matter how hard you tried. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him how you felt.

“Goodbye,” you pulled away from Saiki.

What was the point of confessing your feelings to someone you would never see again?

Paris, France was one of your destinations out of many. Most people romanticized the capital as the City of Love, but the only reason you were even there in the first place was to visit the Louvre, the world’s largest art museum.

Influenced by the art and the romantic ambience, you sketched out the scenery around you, deliberating how you could embody the city on paper. If you were to draw a picture of love, what would you envision?

Maybe, it would look like pink locks tousled by the spring breeze, or the reflection of your eyes searching for violet orbs through tinted green glass. It might have been the lingering warmth on the fingertips of someone who trusted you enough to share their deepest secret, or the gentle smile that was reserved only for you during the most intimate of moments.

Your love was constant and unchanging. You realized that now. No matter how much time had passed or how many countries you visited, you always found yourself thinking about home.

Ever since you were a young student in junior high, you had hated the thought of giving up on your dreams to pursue a flighty, insignificant relationship. Six years ago, you threw away your chance at love to focus on your aspirations. There was no point in thinking back on what might have been. You shouldn’t have.

You made a name for yourself through the many art competitions you joined, winning a few awards here and there. A while back, you finished your Bachelor's Degree in Illustration at a famous art school in New York. Things were coming together quite nicely.

Your high school days almost seemed like a lifetime ago. The memories that used to be the center of your universe, the laughter you shared with your friends, and a not so ordinary boy with psychic powers were at the back of your mind. Everyday life without the only person you've ever loved became the norm for you.

You recently got a job offer from a famous publishing company in Japan after you posted a short comic that blew up in popularity. The editor in chief sealed the deal with you after you sent him a promising draft for a manga you had planned out.

It had been years since you’ve been to the country, but your return and the nostalgic surroundings brought back old recollections that made you feel like you were a teenager again.

The chief took it upon himself to give you a tour around the company, showing you the work environment and the employees. He guided you through the different floor levels, offices and workrooms, and acquainted you with the higher-ups. But he had yet to introduce the editor you would be working with.

"There he is."

The chief led you towards the figure of a man who had his back turned to you. The pink tuft of hair on his head and the silly-looking antennae shaped into joysticks poking out of his scalp were noticeably familiar. But you couldn’t believe it.

He turned around, green-tinted eyes boring into yours with the same neutral expression you used to see every day. Even when you had anticipated who it was, you couldn’t help the breathless gasp that escaped your lips.

"This is Saiki Kusuo. He will be the editor in charge of overseeing your work,” the chief introduced to you.

You took the hand Saiki held out for you, shaking it courteously. His blank expression didn’t fade, but his eyes softened under your gaze. The warmth on his grip was just as comforting as you remembered, like the welcoming embrace for a loved one returning home.

Neither one of you let go.

"Well, since it's already after work hours, you guys should grab dinner and get to know each other. You'll be working closely for a while, after all," the chief suggested before leaving you and Saiki alone.

A hushed silence washed over both of you as the world disappeared before your sight. The image of a cherry blossom tree on a sunny spring day was evoked in your mind.

He sat next to you in a secluded booth of the café you used to frequent, away from prying eyes.

"What happened to majoring in Economics and Literature?" you asked.

Your body was angled in his direction while you engaged him in conversation. Despite the many years apart, you and Saiki had fallen back to the easygoing relationship you once shared.

'I finally had time to think about my future, and I realized that this is what I wanted.'

“You wanted to be a manga editor like your dad?” you prompted.

‘Not quite.’

Saiki was composed as usual as he turned to face you.

'I have a dream. After you accomplished your goals, we would find each other again and spend the rest of our lives together. And maybe we might even make a best-seller manga one day,’ he mused.

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. The words you couldn’t bring yourself to say on the day of your graduation poured out unthinkingly from your throat.

“I love you.”

He placed a hand on the back of your neck, closing the distance between you.

‘I know.’

Your lips crashed into his, moulding perfectly as they moved against one another. You gripped his shoulders, pulling him in as he snuck an arm around your waist. Your eyelids fluttered shut, relishing in the sweet sensation of his taste.

You only pulled away minutes after to catch your breath. His forehead leaned against yours, the tip of your noses barely skimming each other. The look of adoration in his eyes revealed that he felt the same way.

No matter how long he waited, your love for each other was unchanging.

#saiki x reader #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki #saiki k #saiki kusuo #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki kusuo no ψ nan #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki no psi nan

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sol-exposito · 2 years

Text

I should have erased those photos

the day I forgot you,

but who knows how to get rid

the trace of a shooting star

when it has already looked you in the eyes?

One is a prisoner of all that one has loved

because love is a life sentence in a prison without bars.

You were beautiful dressed in nothing.

You are only true when you are silence,

when you are peace and calm

and you dye your hair white for me.

I could have sworn you were real

when I saw you cry for me,

when you trembled with fear for me,

when you found yourself kissing me.

Nothing scares me more than to think

That maybe you only existed in my head.

I wish you understood how lonely I feel

when I think of you,

as if I'm carrying a sadness that doesn't belong to me

and you have made yours

-now not even my sorrow is mine-

You insisted on being the protagonist of my life

even though you were cruel,

I don't love myself for helped you grow up

even though you define part of my story.

I give you my attention,

if that's what you want,

but pull down the fucking curtain

and let it cut my head off.

There's nothing sadder

than wanting to make a best-seller

of a book for only two

nor a movie shot for a single spectator.

Or maybe there is,

maybe silence is sadder

when it is not forced.

You appear when I am alone

with myself,

in that hell where solitude

is a crowd of people and noise

and someone cries on the other side of the wall,

and between the temptation to hate you

or abandoning myself to whatever your memory holds

-with luck a sigh,

without it a poem

I grit my teeth hard

and let you pass,

like a momentary pain,

like a sharp and certain blow,

like a wrongly spoken word

at the wrong time,

like hours on the worst day of your life:

without remedy, with effort

and without importance.

There are dreams

that are the wake of a constant desire

and others that reflect secret longings

and are almost nightmares.

Guess which ones you are in.

I have not overcome this pain

because I have not yet unlearned

the pleasure of my wounds.

The day I stop writing

and someone applauds me

I will know that innocence exists.

Don't think you are the owner and mistress

of my sadness:

only he who owns something is capable of releasing it,

and for too many words now

that I know that you are a motive but not the cause

-that great difference

that so few people understand.

One day I will be saved and the sky will fall on my head.

I feel better that way,

I really do,

don't be sad and turn into a gray cloud about it.

I have to learn to cry better,

to forget the life that doesn't pass,

to go back home

and let them notice me absent,

get rid of the weapons

that I placed some time ago on the side of the bed

and kiss calm on the mouth.

Listen to me:

my white flag is my naked skin

and I haven't been cold for a long time.

Those who know me know that it is not easy to do so:

that's why most people run away at first,

that's why the few who make it stay forever.

I do not leave homeless

those who come to me through forests of extinct languages.

I have, in the same way,

to confess to you in a sweet way

that I have forgotten you,

that your photos are a caress of the past

but in my tomorrow I no longer look at you,

that I have learned that remembering you

is nothing more than a kiss to my wound

so that it doesn't feel as lonely

as I did when you did it to me,

that here it's been spring for a long time now

even if there are days of torrential storms

but look at me: I have learned to dance

-who would have thought it, love?

with this life I lead so full of stumbles-

I don't know where you are

but I know that wherever you are

you'll be proud of me for forgetting you.

I have forgotten you,

broken love.

But don't be afraid

that no one will remember you:

poetry will never forget you.

#elvira sastre #poetry

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pterodactylterrace · 3 years

Text

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 3

Chapter Summary: You’re late for tea

Rating: 18+ for later chapters

Warning: Possible swear words, dirty thoughts, nudity

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Friday had been a strange day for Faye. First, Henry wasn't on set. It took an embarrassingly long time for her to remember being told he had a few days off of filming.

Then, Mrs. Anderson sent her a strange series of texts asking about him. Sure, Faye had mentioned him a few times. Also, Briar was constantly going on about the man with the fluffy dog, so it made some sort of sense that she would ask about him. Not to mention Mrs. Anderson was always trying to find her a 'nice young man' to settle down with, so fixating on the one man she had mentioned wasn't that odd in retrospect.

Then, as she was pulling her beat up car into her driveway, she noticed an unfamiliar, shiny vehicle already parked outside. Maybe that was the new car Mr. Anderson had been dying for? Why would he park at her house instead of in his own drive a few doors down, though? Was it a surprise for Mrs. Anderson?

Now, she was walking into her house only to be greeted by a very excited, very large fluffball at the door.

"Kal?" That was definitely Kal. He was the only black and white Akita she knew with the habit of knocking his rear into her leg for attention, although his getup was rather strange. Why was Henry's dog in her house, and why was he wearing fairy wings, her daughter's dress up fairy tutu and at least a dozen mardi gras necklaces? Also, the floppy sun hat on his head was a nice touch. He seemed to enjoy having it on as well. That, or it was tied on too well for him to get off.

The dog's attire should have prepared her for when she looked into the living room. There sat Mrs. Anderson, her sun hat on along with one of Briar's scarfs and glow in the dark glasses perched above her regular seeing glasses. Next to her was Briar, her full fairy princess costume on, complete with wings, crown and a scepter, pouring pretend tea into the strangest guest's cup.

There sat Henry Cavill, cross legged on her living room floor, tiny plastic tea cup in his massive hand. On his head was perched a plastic crown, a feather boa wrapped around his thick neck, and if the sparkles were anything to go by, Briar had attacked him with her glitter body spray.

"Mommy!" Briar gasped, dropping her plastic tea pot and racing over to her mother, wrapping her arms around her legs.

"Hi, sweetie. What's going on?" Faye asked cautiously.

"You're late for tea." Henry replied, taking a pretend sip from his cup.

"I hope it's alright, dear. You did say he was a friend, and Briar seemed so fond of his dog, I didn't have the heart to turn him away." Mrs. Anderson explained.

"Uhh... yeah, it's fine." Faye mumbled, still taking in the sight before her, Kal and Briar rejoining the tea party as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

"My mistake. I thought we agreed on Friday." Henry apologized, pushing himself up. "We've only been here a little while. We can leave if you'd like."

"Oh, no. That's ok." Faye assured, finally setting her bag down, hastily turning over her sketch pad on the entrance table. Some things weren't meant for anyone other herself to see.

"I'll just be heading off then, Miss Warren." Mrs. Anderson excused herself, taking off her borrowed accessories and gathering her things. "You all have fun."

"So, uhh... how... how long have you been here?" Faye asked once she closed the door behind the older woman, quickly scanning the room to make sure nothing difficult to explain was in plain sight.

"Not long." Henry assured, sitting back down at Briar's insistent tugging, folding his long muscular legs back up as he settled on the floor in front of the coffee table.

"More tea!" Briar demanded, holding the cup up to his mouth, prompting him to take another pretend sip.

"You make wonderful tea, miss." Henry complimented, Briar preening in response.

"Mommy, you want tea?" Briar asked, a wide yawn cracking her little face.

"I would love some, sweetheart, but it's time for your nap." Faye pointed out.

"No! I wanna play tea!" Briar whined, plopping back on her backside in a pout.

"Briar." Faye warned, raising a brow at her.

"But... but... tea party!" Briar insisted.

"We can play more tea party after your nap. You're getting grumpy."

"No I'm not!" Briar insisted, her chubby face drawn into a scowl.

"That was grump right there." Faye pointed out, gently scooping up her cranky daughter. "Now let's go lay you down for a nap, and then we can play more tea party when you wake up."

"I don't wanna nap!" Briar yawned, rubbing her hazel eyes in an attempt to stay awake.

"You need one."

"I don't wanna nap, I'm tired!"

"Sound logic, my love." Faye sighed, settling her daughter into her bed, tucking her in with her favorite stuffed unicorn. The little girl was asleep before Faye even reached the door, curled up around her stuffie with her little tush up in the air.

"Sorry you had to see that. She really hates going down for a nap when she's having fun."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to get her wound up." Henry apologized, removing the plastic crown from his head.

"Don't worry about it, she's just happy to have more guests at her tea party." Faye assured, picking up the plastic dishes and putting them back in the toy box.

"She was quite insistent we join, though I do think Kal enjoyed getting dressed up." Henry chuckled, beginning to remove the dog's costume.

"Good thing you agreed, otherwise you would have faced the wrath of Briar." Faye giggled, noticing the unicorn and rainbow stickers all over Henry's back.

"It was a pleasure attending her party. She is quite a wonderful host." Henry laughed, stowing the costumes back in the toy box. "Now, I do believe you requested help with a cake for our little party host."

"Yes, right this way." Faye waved, heading off to her tiny eat in kitchen. "What do we need?"

"Well... you have an oven, so that's a start. I brought the ingredients with me. Do you happen to have a cake pan?" Henry listed, opening the fridge and removing the bag he'd brought along.

"I have a glass baking pan." Faye offered.

"We will work with that." Henry agreed. "Now, measuring cups?"

"They are around here somewhere."

"Do you know how to use them?" Henry teased, setting the ingredients from the bag onto the counter.

"Vaguely. I just usually eyeball everything when I cook." Faye admitted.

"That won't work with baking. It's a science and the measurements have to be exact." Henry explained. "So, we'll start with the dry ingredients. Can you measure out two cups of flour?"

"I have no idea where the cup is. I have half a cup."

"Four of those, then." Henry absently mumbled, scanning over his mother's recipe card again. He glanced over to see her attacking the bag of flour with the measuring cup, wincing to himself as he watched. "Faye?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Forgive me for asking, but do you know how to measure flour?" Henry asked, cringing when she tried to smooth the top down with her hand, causing a flour explosion in her face.

"I'm guessing what I just did wasn't right."

"Not quite." Henry chuckled, stepping behind her, taking her hand in his and dumping the flour back into the bag. "You can use a spoon to sift it. Packed flour and unpacked flour are two totally different measurements." He explained, handing her a spoon and taking her other hand in his, showing her how to sift the flour into the measuring cup.

Faye tried to keep her cool and ignore the fact that Henry Cavill was pressed up behind her, holding her hands and showing her how to measure flour like it was the most natural thing in the world. Surely this was just some dream and if it was, no one had better wake her up.

"Got it?" Henry asked, turning his head to look at her, snapping her from her thoughts. Faye did her best not to stare at his lips, so close and yet so far away. She could just lean in...

"Yeah, got it." She quickly confirmed, forcing her attention back to the task at hand.

And so it went, Henry leading the way through the mysterious land of baking, Faye following blindly behind. He even let her lick the spoon when he was done with it, and he in no way stared in awe at the way her tongue moved around it. He was a gentleman, after all, and imagining what else that tongue could do would be highly inappropriate.

It wasn't until after the cake had been pulled from the oven to cool that Briar woke up, wandering into the kitchen with her now disheveled princess costume still on, her hair sticking out in strange angles as she rubbed her eyes.

"You're here!" Briar gasped, taking notice of the giant in the room and scurrying over to him, throwing her arms around his legs.

"Nice to know where I stand." Faye pouted as Henry scooped the girl up, her daughter not even glancing her way in favor of talking to Henry.

"Can we play dollies?" Briar asked, batting her thick dark lashes at him, her chubby lip sticking out in a pout.

"I've never played before, you'll have to show me how." Henry agreed, smiling down at the little girl held securely in his arm.

"Mommy, you look silly!" Briar giggled, finally looking over at her mother.

"That's not nice." Faye gently scolded.

"What on your face?" Briar asked.

"Mommy had an incident with the flour." Henry explained. Shit. Had she really spent the last hour, practically drooling over her guest with flour all over her face? She really should write a book on how to flirt. No doubt, it would be a best seller.

"I'm gonna go get cleaned up." Faye mumbled, her face heating up beneath the flour coating as she ducked her head and beelined down the hall.

"I'll be learning how to play dolls." Henry chuckled after her, carrying the toddler back to the living room so her mother could shower in peace.

Fifteen minutes later, Briar was still explaining the different names of her dolls and stuffed animals, piling each on top of Henry and resorting to stuffing them under Kal's paws when she ran out of room on her semi-willing captive. Faye cracked the bathroom door open and glanced to the living room to make sure her guest was thoroughly distracted before she slipped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around herself as she snuck down the hall to her bedroom, breathing a sigh of relief when she closed the door behind herself. She could almost convince herself he was interested in her with the couple times she'd caught him looking her way when he thought she wouldn't notice. No need to scare him off with her mom-bod now.

Sure, it hadn't been that hard on her figure. She wasn't left with the same saggy stomach her mother had after her pregnancies, but then again, her mother had carried two sets of twins almost to term. Talk about a superwoman. Though she did decide no more children after her younger brother and sister had been born.

"You keep giving me a two for one deal, I'm not doing this again!"

Good times. Good times. The wonders of having twins running strongly in your family. Faye had only given birth to one, but she still bore the stretch marks on her stomach and breasts, and the loose skin on her stomach had never really gone back to the way it was before.

Faye was shaken from her thoughts by her daughter's all too familiar exclamation coming from behind her. "Mommy, you're nakie!" She would never understand her daughter's near obsession with pointing out the fact that she was in fact, naked during and directly after showers, but it was without a doubt one of her favorite hobbies. Right behind tea parties if she had to guess.

"Wait, what? Oh!" That was not her daughter's voice. Faye's head snapped up to find Briar's chubby hand wrapped tightly around Henry's little finger, his other hand clapped firmly over his eyes. "I am so sorry! She wanted to get her stuffed dragon, I did not know this was your room!"

Faye snatched her towel off the bed and wrapped it around herself again, grabbing the dragon from the pillow and handing it off to Briar. The little girl happily took her dragon and led Henry back down the hall, not bothering with the door. The wonders of being young and innocent. She had no clue what she had just done.

Faye quickly shut the door herself, remembering to turn the lock this time, though it was a moot point by then. She threw on a tank top, leggings and her fluffy socks before forcing herself to venture back out. Henry was actually sitting on the couch this time, doing his best to focus on what the little girl was saying, though truth be told, his mind kept wandering back to the quick glimpse he had gotten of Faye's backside before he registered what was going on. It was even better than the glances he had gotten when she bent over in front of him to rummage through her make up bag. Nice and round, plump yet firm. The kind of ass you just want to squeeze as you're-

"So... " Faye started awkwardly, quickly breaking Henry out of his own head. "Lunch sound good?"

"Chocolate sandwiches!" Briar quickly suggested, hugging her stuffed bunny to her chest as she bounced around.

"It looks like I'm making chocolate sandwiches, though I could probably also manage a peanut butter and jelly."

"I wouldn't want to impose, though I did want to apologize again-"

"Accident's happen, but we are going to pretend that one didn't, ok?" Faye interjected. "So nutella or peanut butter and jelly?"

"Umm... either is fine."

"Briar, keep them company while mommy makes lunch, ok?" Faye suggested, going back to the kitchen before her false confidence faded. If he was on board with repressing and denying, so was she.

Now, only one questioned remained: Would Henry prefer his sandwiches cut into dinosaurs or puzzle pieces?

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x ofc #tea party #henry cavill fanfic #guys like you #guys like you fic #multi chapter

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rounove · 4 years

Text

Shyan Fan fic Recommendation

Anon I want to kiss you right now. I have been waiting for this question for years

Batch 1

*All | orphan_account

Ryan's got an itch only Shane can scratch.

*"Come over here and make me." | aldhafera

“Shane, stop that this instant!” “Come over here and make me.” In which Ryan fears something followed them home and Shane just wants to give the (definitely non-existent) ghosts a show.

Por Favor, Sweetheart | carrieonfighting

Two dorks raise a baby and don't even realise they're doing it together until it's too late Alternatively, Ryan Bergara is Trying His Best Thanks

(This one’s so domestic I think I melted)

the choices we make | exul

Shane and Ryan find themselves in a world where much is the same, yet everything is different. An apartment that's theirs, but not theirs. Photos of them that were never taken. And most importantly a child, who's somehow theirs, yet they've never seen her before. or Shane and Ryan wake up in a world where they're married and have a baby.

and then there were two (idiots) | sessrumnir

Shane kisses Ryan by accident one day. A week later they are still trying to process what happened.

*Body Farming | shiphitsthefan

Failed suppressants and a surprise heat: the worst of cliches, and here Ryan stands, living the trope on location with the alpha he’s hopelessly in love with. Even worse, they’re spending the night in the famous Bell Witch Cave, completely alone and with no way to contact the outside world.

Ryan knows he can survive and keep his preheat a secret, as long as Shane will stop being so protective and concerned. After all, it’s not like Shane wants to bond with him.

Right?

*breathe out so i can breathe you in | trxshmxuth

They've been tiptoeing around each other for months now, walking on ice so thin that Ryan can practically see the sexual tension swirling and raging underneath. Ryan's almost afraid that when the ice finally cracks, he's not going to be able to resurface again.On their next Unsolved investigation, the ice breaks.

eventually, the darkness stares back | EAST (WESTAGE)

Shane realizes he likes Ryan exactly the way he is: alive.

Four Down, One to Go | sunshinewinchesters

Ryan is sick and Shane is having a really shitty week.

*Hold Your Breath, It Gets Better | beethechange

Ryan stops short in the doorway of his bedroom, banging his shoulder against the doorframe in his haste, because he’s too late. Shane’s kneeling in front of the bottom drawer of his bedside table, peering down at the contents, hand frozen in a hover like he’d been about to reach in. His face is a blank mask.

“Ah. I keep the batteries in the top drawer. Not. Not the bottom one.”

“Yes,” Shane says, cocking his head to the left in puzzlement, and then he pauses for a fraction of a second too long as he considers his words. “I can see that the batteries are not in the bottom drawer.”

*How Deep (Is Your Love) | touchinghearts

The last thing Shane expects when he exits the bathroom is for his boyfriend to appear out of fucking nowhere, pin him against the wall, and swallow his cock down in the open hallway of a hotel.

It's a love/hate kind of thing. | heyghouls

Shane is an executive producer at BuzzFeed and Ryan is his intern. It's not love at first sight for the boys, but will they finally see eye to eye when they realize they have more in common than they thought? Shane is an introvert who finds it hard to let people in, and Ryan is a cute loving boy who just wants to figure the guy out.

Just Out of Reach | formosus_iniquis

A variation on the "I asked for your help getting a book off the top shelf and and you laughed at my taste and called me a nerd so I shoved you into a table of nonfiction best-sellers and that’s how we both got banned from the quirky community bookstore" prompt

keep you like an oath | spoopyy

"I'm in love with you," Ryan says, desperate."No, you're in love with the views."

kiss me like you mean it | rocketshiptospace

“Hi,” Tall man says, taking in the sight in front of him. “I’m sorry, I heard banging and yelling and I just, are you okay?”

“No. Yes. Maybe,” Ryan says, slowly standing back up on two legs again. “My door won’t open.” He eventually ads, when him and Tall man have just stared at each other for a few seconds.

“That’s unfortunate,” Tall man says, smiling at him. He has a really nice smile. “But it happens. It’s an old building, you know. Doors get stuck sometime. Here, let me try,” He steps past Ryan, and places his hand on the door handle. The door swings open like it’s nothing.

or, Ryan's apartment building plays matchmaker.

*Muscles Better and Nerves More | beethechange

A certain meddling Voodoo Queen of New Orleans thinks Ryan and Shane need some new perspective on life. After an inadvisable ritual deposits Ryan in Shane’s body, and Shane in Ryan’s, the ghoulboys pursue some soul-searching and self-discovery to put things right. Sometimes in a sexy way.

the calm before crescendo | abovetheruins

Alternate title: 5 times Shane Madej was flustered by Ryan Bergara, and 1 time he finally did something about it.

*The Desk Fic | SincerelyLeah

Shane was having a shitty Monday morning and it was all because of one person, Ryan Bergara. But, by now he should know that endless teasing gets Shane more than riled up.

Things That Go Bump in the Night (and 7 till 12 at weekends) | HoopyFrood

Shane works at a Haunted House. Ryan is Ryan. Things go about as well as you'd imagine.

Tranquility Base | sessrumnir

After their successful Sims series, Kelsey has a different video proposal for the boys. This time, they're testing how fast gossip travels in the office. But Ryan doesn't expect their relationship to change so fast because of it.

*wasted on you | cursingcursive (queenradi)

there's a reason shane loves when ryan wears his clothes.

Weird | Helsabot

One night, the stack of pillows between them becomes one stack too many. “Let me— let me hit you with a thought. A theory.” “A postulation?” “Sure. Let me postulate at you.” “Postulate away, baby.”

You Make Me Glow | sohapppily

Whenever they were on their ghoul excursions, Shane always had a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue and a twisted smirk to shoot at Ryan’s terror. He was mostly the same way in their unrecorded life, but they played up the banter for the sake of The Boys. Although it was a welcome respite for Ryan, seeing Shane in these settings with nothing but sleep on his features never failed to be a bit jarring.

Ryan couldn’t look away.

lightning in a bottle | LexTheMoose

Love is slow-dancing on the balcony of a house party at 11 PM.

meet me halfway | poetdameron

In a world where everything changed over the night, Ryan and Shane's minds connect miles away, making Shane the man of Ryan's dreams. Literally.

Batch 2

*And they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates) | Squeakyshroom

All my notes said on this one was “this is pure sex jesus”

2:10 to Wellton | quackers

and i'm puffing my chest, getting red in the face | pissedofsandwich

Bed-warm Hands and the Ghost of Elvis | MiraclesofPaul

*BFFS Get Married For A Week - Ryan and Shane | aspookycryptidsock

distorted truths | hwsinbs

*Everything's Weird and We're Always in Danger | beethechange

hammer me to the cross of my despair | heartchains

I Think the Ghost Likes You | cactsu

*I’ve Kissed You Before, but I Didn’t Do It Right (Can I Try Again) | beethechange

if i should fall | abovetheruins

*Just The Facts | millyvanilly (miloisnothere)

*Out of Control with Ryan | beethechange

*Pushing All Your Buttons | beethechange

satisfaction brought it back | ElasticElla

Short Stack | Anonymous

*Thank you, Satan | Squeakyshroom

The Chain | Lafayette1777

Rough water | heyghouls

Batch 3

The Thrilling Gardner Museum Heist | orphan_account

One in Five Billion | punk_rock_yuppie

a short history of almost something | cooliohoolio

*A Suspicion of Feelings | beethechange

I Will Be the Sun, I Will Wake You Up | sohapppily

*ready if it happens with you | sarcasticfishes

*The Denial Twist | beethechange

The Bizarre Road Trip Of A Missing Family | icantwritegood

Beautiful Crime | orphan_account

The Odd Death of Michelle Von Emster | icantwritegood

won't you ride on my fast machine? | ElasticElla

Batch 4

*Breathe | quackers

*The Hunger | poetdameron

Black Sun | quackers

contrapposto | spoopyy

(Let me tell you that I never liked major character death but I accidentally read this one without reading the warning and YOO I am a fan of major character death now. This was beautifully written!)

darling it's a faded notion | varnes

(This was the very first shyan fic I’ve read and still one of the best one’s)

*Full-Court Press | beethechange

(I remember this one oh my god this has jersey kink in it and I didn’t even know what it means until I read this and it awaken something in me. This writer I swear to god. They could write Ryan and Shane fucking in a hot dog costume on top of the mountains and I’d still be into it.)

*Ryan Number One | quackers

(THIS has everything I want and didn’t know I needed. This is hot this is sexy. Five star porn right here.)

theft by finding | varnes

*Wicked Game | quackers

(This is my favorite. This ruined me in so many ways and I got so affected and shaken up that I can’t draw anything for months. I have been to so many fandoms and read hundreds of fics but nothing has fucked me up like this. I have to switch to a different fandom because I am having the longest art block ever because I keep thinking about this fic. I am not exaggerating I swear if you see my previous posts there’s quite a gap in my shyan art. And I am saying this in the highest of compliment, this fic changed my life.)

*Translucent | poetdameron

*Begin the Begin, Over and Over | beethechange

*Let the Sunshine Burn Your Eyes | YogurtTime

*Look How Long They Are | drunkkenobi

*The Disturbing Mystery of the Jamison Family | icantwritegood

(This one’s fun! I fucking love this one! Lot’s of angry sex. The banter! The banter holy shit hmm!! I don’t want to spoil anymore. It’s dark but it’s funny it’s also hot and sad. This writer loooves angst.)

*Collide | needywitch

* - has porn

This got way longer than I thought and I couldn’t even put the summary in some of them but all of these are worth the read. This fandom has so much talented writers that my small monkey brain went fucking bananas on the list.

#rousponse #shyan fic rec #Anon must be expecting 5-10 fics because it's such a light-hearted ask

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cozywritings · 4 years

Text

Coffee Cake

Moving to Canada, escaping your hometown, and opening your own bakery was a dream of yours since you were a teenager. Now, at 23 years old, you’re able to do exactly that. However, what’s to happen when you open up next to a coffee shop owned by the most handsome and sweetest person you’ve ever met?

-----

“Okay guys, thank you so much for putting up the flowers. I really appreciate it.” You smiled as the men left, taking their baked goods and waving goodbye. You’d finally closed on your little shop and were starting to decorate. Deciding to go with a floral look, you went with flowers that would cascade the building but also were low maintenance. As you looked over to the coffee shop next door you chucked, the difference in design was funny. Your little shop was white and colourful while this one was black and the interior was full of dark stained wood.

Walking into the door you hummed at the smell of coffee and spices, a tall man with dark curls smiled at you. “Oh hi, how may I help you on this lovely afternoon?” His voice was like velvet as you walked up to the counter.

You smiled at him, waving. “I just wanted to come say hi, I just bought the shop next door. It’s going to be my first real bakery and I just wanted to come meet my neighbors!” Your voice light and cheery as you bounced on your toes.

The curly haired man smiled and held his hand out. “Well I’m Raul. This is my little coffee shop, I hope you’re up for a little competition. James here is quite the pastry man.” He chuckled, pointing at a shorter man that looked like a frat boy.

You waved at each other and looked back to Raul, he was staring at you with a smile that could stop traffic. “Well I mainly do cakes and cupcakes, special orders, cookies and muffins.” At the mention of muffins, his eyes lit up.

“You do muffins?” Hes asked excitedly, you nodded, a proud smile on your face. They were your best seller back home.

“Everyone loves my double chocolate ones. And then of course the classic blueberry and banana nut. I’m working on some more recipes currently.” You told him, reminding yourself to finish up the pumpkin recipe soon for the fall.

Raul was now leaning against the counter, a serious look on his face. “When can I test the muffins?” His tone making you giggle before you pointed next door to your own shop.

“I have a couple right now. I’ve been using them to thank the guys helping me get all moved in. Some of them are accepting them as payment when they are really just a thank you.” You smiled, thankful for all the help and how nice everyone was during your set up.

Raul tossed his hand towel on the counter, turning back to the crew behind him. “Guys, I’m going next door for a taste test. Be back later!” There was a collective “okay” and a few asking if they could come too and you giggled at their eagerness.

Walking into the shop, he looked around at your little lobby, glass cases and an order book on the counter. “It still needs some work but I’m hoping to be open by the end of next week. I’m doing a few private orders for now.” He smiled at you as you spoke, looking through the book of cakes and cupcakes you’ve done throughout the past few years.

Suddenly he shut the book and crossed his arms. “What about a little deal?” He asked, an eyebrow cocked as you walked back into the room, muffins in hand.

“What kind of deal?” You asked as you placed the baked goods on the counter, digging into a double chocolate muffin with a fork.

“How do you feel about coffee?” He asked, before taking a bite of his own muffin and letting out a satisfied hum. His eyes closed for a second and you realized how truly beautiful this man was.

“Well, I’m not a huge coffee person honestly I’m more of a tea and hot cocoa girl, but I love the smell of coffee. Why?” You laughed as he tried to swallow his mouthful of muffin, seeing as he shoved the whole thing in his mouth.

He blushed at his struggle. “Sorry, that was just so good. Anyways. I would honestly love one of your baked goods every morning and in return you could maybe be my taste tester for new drinks? I’m exploring new flavours and the guys aren’t really into it. They like what they like and that’s it.” You thought about it for a moment. You didn’t mind giving away treats, and you got free drinks out of the deal. Plus, having a gorgeous man hand deliver your breakfast to you every day didn’t sound too bad.

“Deal.” You smiled, sticking out your hand to close the deal. He grabbed your hand and you noticed how large he was. His hand engulfed yours as he shook it, you also noticed what looked like a whole sleeve peeking out of the sleeve of his shirt.

“Alright m’lady. What will it be today?” His sweet smile melting you. You already knew this man would be the death of you.

“Well, let’s see. It’s 5 in the evening, so let’s go with a nice iced tea. I don’t really have a preference but it has to be sweet. None of that ‘no sugar’ garbage.” He nodded, taking a mental note of your order.

“Okay, I’ll go whip something up and be right back.” He saluted you, closing the door gently behind him. As soon as Raul left, you let out a squeal. You swear you couldn’t have picked a better location. You were just down the street from your apartment, and you were right next door to a cafe run by the sweetest, most attractive guy you’d ever known, and your mind was full of him. You couldn’t help but think about how cute he looked, mouth full of muffin, trying to talk. He was obviously already comfortable with you. Or maybe that was his nature, but you couldn’t stay in your thoughts long. The bell above the door rang and in he walked, a glass of reddish tea in his massive hand.

“Here you go! I pegged you as a hibiscus tea girl, so I decided on that. There’s a little lemonade in it as well, since it’s so hot out today.” You blushed, taking the glass from him and looking at the cup. It was a thick glass jar. The shops name etched into the side.

You ran your fingers over the logo, the unique woman’s eyes with coffee steam framing her face intriguing you. “This is a fancy glass you’ve got here.” You spoke, looking at him over the rim on the glass.

“Oh, we got those done last Christmas for the employees and we’ve become pretty popular in the area so we started selling them. We also have a few shirts and around Christmas we sell hot cocoa bundles with mugs.” You smiled as you watched him talk about his business, taking sips of tea and humming.

“This is amazing by the way. And you were right about me being a hibiscus girl. So, how long have you had the cafe?” You asked, using any excuse to keep him in your presence as long as possible.

He ran his hands through those soft looking curls. “I opened it 5 years ago when I was 18. It sounds kind of stupid, but I always wanted my own cafe. My mom is British and always had tea in the house and during snow days I’d be in charge of hot cocoa and one day I just decided that I was going to have my own shop. I even designed to logo, with my brother’s help. What about you?”

You placed the now empty glass on the counter before explaining that you had always had a thing for baking and when it came time to go to college you went into to culinary. “This is my first real shop. I used to just take orders online and do local things back home in the states.” You blushed, looking at your shoes.

“You’re from the states?” You nodded. “What made you want to move up here?” You just shrugged, wiping some dust off the glass case.

“I wanted something different I guess. And where I lived it was always ungodly hot and I hated it. So I moved up here to escape the heat. And before you say anything, I know the winters are harsher, but I’m okay with that. My apartment has a fireplace and I live in fuzzy socks. Besides, being hot sometimes makes me uncomfortable and anxious.”

The two of you talked for a few more hours while Raul helped you clean up a little bit since the rest of the equipment and the decor would be in tomorrow. “Well, I should let you go. Thank you so much for your help, and the tea. It was amazing.” You smiled over at him, handing him a box of cupcakes for the guys at the cafe.

“I’ll see you tomorrow with a new drink. It was nice meeting you, and I’m glad we’re going to be work neighbors.” And that was all he said before waving goodbye and walking back to his own store to lock up and clean for tomorrow.

You stayed back a little longer, packing up the rest of the goodies before making your way home. You were now even more excited to come into the shop tomorrow to get set up. Raul had offered his help in the heavy lifting and how could you say no to those eyes, or those muscles. So you settled into bed, eagerly awaiting the morning.

-----

The next few days were full of hard work. Between setting everything up and baking for the people helping you, you were exhausted every night. You were so grateful for Raul, as he would periodically come over, that same glass filled with a different cold beverage. He even got the cup personalized with your name on it.

Tomorrow was opening day. You were extremely excited, and equally nervous, but you were confident in your little shop. You’d worked so hard for this and you’d refuse to let this go bad. “Hey there sugar!” Raul shouted, the nickname making you blush as you walked up to the counter and asked for a raspberry lemonade. “Tomorrow is the big day. Are you nervous?” You nodded, chewing on your bottom lip. “Don’t worry, the guys and I will be there to support you. We’ll even wear your shirts.” he said and you blushed.

A few days ago you’d ordered a few shirts as a joke for the guys at the cafe. Pastel pink and blue with your logo on the front. The back had the saying “Have your cake and eat it too.” The thought of 5 men standing in public in those shirts made you laugh. “Thank you for all the support Raul. It means a lot to me.”

“Of course! I remember how nervous I was when I opened RM Coffee, and you’re doing this all by yourself? It’s impressive.” He placed a hand on your shoulder before handing you your cup. He was wearing a short sleeve today, and you could see almost all of his sleeve, it made you wonder what other tattoos he had.

You slid him a $5 bill and got up. “Okay guys, I’m gonna go get some rest before tomorrow. I’ll see you all in the morning!” You waved goodbye to the boys in the shop before walking home. You were half way down the street when you heard someone behind you, and whipped back around to find Raul.

He had his hand out, holding something. “You left your notebook!” He shouted, the book stretched out to you.

“Oh, thank you! That had all my new recipes in it. I’d die if I lost it.” You sighed, taking it from him. Your hands brushed and you didn’t miss the way way his breathing picked up at the contact.

“Also, I was uhh, I was wondering if after the grand opening tomorrow, you’d let me take you out to dinner? You know, after closing. Of course.” His cheeks were red as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Your face heated up, before nodding. “I’d really like that. Maybe you can show me the places to eat here.” He smiled, hands now shoved in his pockets.

“I’ll come by around 7 and we’ll go to dinner then. I-I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight and good luck.” You hugged him gently, he was warm and you didn’t want to let go of him.

“Goodnight Raul. Thank you for all your help.” And off you went, mind racing over tomorrow. Did the hot guy next door really just ask you out?

---

Curling your hair and adding the finishing touches to your makeup, you were ready for the day. You’d chosen a simple pink cotton dress and nude heels. Seeing as this was an important day, you decided to dress nicer than your jeans and a ‘Sugar Cakes’ shirt you would usually wear. Plus, you had a date tonight. You needed to look amazing, even if your date had already seen you sweating and in sweatpants.

As you made the short walk to the shop, you noticed a crowd of people around the bakery. They were all chattering and taking photos in front of the flowers cascading over the window, and a smile graced your features, being one for the perfect photo, you were glad people were taking advantage of the beautiful backdrop you’d created.

“Good morning Sugar.” Raul greeted, a chai tea in his hands with your name on it. “You ready for this? You’ve got quite a crowd, I’m impressed.” You nodded, taking the drink and looking at him, pastel pink shirt pulled tight across his chest.

“You look good in pink.” You giggled, before turning to look at the boys. Mike, Brian, Geoff, and Ian all wearing pink and blue shirts.

“James was going to be here too but he caught his girlfriends stomach bug.” He said, answering your unasked question, you shook your head, wishing him well before walking towards the front of your shop.

Taking your spot in front of the door with that gorgeous red ribbon across it, the nerves set in. “Good morning everyone. Thank you all so much for coming to the opening for Sugar Cakes, it means a lot to me. This is my first storefront and I’m so excited to share my creations with you! In light of today, I have mini cupcake samples inside waiting for you all!” They all clapped and cheered for you. “Also, a special thank you to the boys of RM Coffee for all the late night help and personal supply of caffeine while I prepared for today. And for the support, I mean come on. Don’t those men look fabulous in those pastel shirts!” You laughed, motioning to the group of baristas.

“So, who’s ready for cupcakes?” You shouted, scissors in hand. While everyone cheered, you snipped the ribbon, smiling as you watched it fall to the floor. “Sugar Cakes is officially open!” You smiled as Raul pulled you in for a hug and kissed your cheek.

“You’re gonna be quite busy today Sugar. I understand if you wanna call a rain check on tonight.” You shook your head, taking your tea from him

“Of course not. Maybe just something casual.” You suggested, there was no way you were cancelling your night with this man.

He smiled and nodded. “I know just the thing.” There was a smirk on his face as he placed a kiss to your temple before walking into his own shop.

The day went by fast. You’d sold 15 dozen cupcakes, had an order for a birthday cake, and an office asked if you’d provide muffins for their Monday morning meeting. You were so ecstatic all day you didn’t care that you hadn’t changed the heels that were now killing your feet.

There was a ding as someone entered the store before they spoke. “Excuse me, miss, do you have a moment to spare?” You looked up to see Raul, a bag in his hand.

“For you? Always.” You grinned, motioning him to come behind the counter with you.

He was quick to get to you. “I um, I noticed you looked uncomfortable in those shoes and I felt really bad you didn’t bring anything to change into. So I went to the shop down the street and got you some sneakers. They aren’t the most fashionable but at least your feel won’t hurt.” He blushed, handing you the plastic bag with a pair of white sneakers and half a sandwhich. “Figured you be hungry and since James isn’t here we had the extra half from lunch.”

You smiled at him, hugging his waist tightly “Oh my god you’re the best.” You sighed, slipping off your heels and putting on the shoes. “Oh my god that feels so much better. Thank you so much Raul.” He nodded, exchanging a few details about tonight before letting you get back to the customers.

The afternoon was a lot calmer than this morning, but you were still constantly busy. You had another order for macaroons to make and cupcakes for a baby’s first birthday. How you were going to do all of this alone, you weren’t sure, but you knew you’d get it done.

At exactly 7:00, Raul was outside, the pastel pink shirt was replaced with a nice navy button down and he looked amazing. “You ready for your night of no customers?” That smile he flashed you making you want to melt.

“What did you have in mind?” You asked as he opened the door to his own business

“Well, since you expressed to me that you have a deep, burning passion for hot chocolate, but you only know how to make the packaged kind. I thought,” he waved towards the counter “I could teach you how to make it from scratch.” You gasped at the assortment of chocolate and flavors to add and all the mugs to chose from, all laid out on the counter.

“That actually sounds amazing.” you sighed, leaning against his side, the day finally taking it’s toll on you.

You learned that you can do milk chocolate, dark chocolate, and even a white chocolate. And that milk is so much better than water. “I can’t believe that you’re a baker, yet you struggle with a simple drink.” Raul chucked, boping your nose and smearing whipped cream on it.

“Hey, don’t judge. I watched you shove a whole muffin in your mouth like you hadn’t eaten a real meal in days.” You pointed out, referring to that first day.

He threw his hands up in defense. “That wasn’t my fault. I’ve been living off of coffee and James danishes for weeks now.” You smiled, grabbing a chocolate cookie and pushing it into your mug. “Beautiful!” He shouted, throwing his hands into the air “Ladies and Gentlemen she has done it!” You bursted into a fit of giggles, holding your stomach as you laughed. “Now you’ve gotta drink it, while we watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas.” You let out a louder laugh at his choice.

“Why that? It’s not Christmas babe.” He smiled at the nickname you let slip, opening his laptop and turning off all the lights in the shop, pulling out a blanket. “Christmas in July was a few days ago. I figured it was fitting.” You shrugged, his reasoning making sense as you curled up under the blanket, mug of cocoa in your hand.

As the movie came to an end, you had your head on Raul’s shoulder, your body tired from the days excitement. “Hey, do you want me to drive you home honey? It’s too late to walk and you seem kinda tired.” You nodded, thanking him before folding up the fuzzy blue blanket and setting your now empty mug on the counter. “I’ll wash the muga in the morning. Let’s just get you home.” You smiled, grabbing your purse and making your way out the door and to the black BMW he had pointed out to you.

“You know, I may steal your hot cocoa recipe and name it after you.” He said as you pulled up to your apartment.

“That’s fine. As long as I can make the double chocolate muffin with extra chocolate chips the Raul Special” you retorted, looking at the side of his face. He was handsome from every angle.

“I’d love that idea. Makes me feel special.” He smiled, walking you to your door. The pristine white door had pastel pink numbers on it and he chuckled. It was very you to have already made the place your own.

“Thank you for tonight Raul. It was amazing and exactly what I needed.” Your hands were shaking now. This was the sacred doorstep moment. Would he kiss you? Go for the cheek? Maybe just walk away.

Your question was answered when he cupped your face, plump lips grazing yours before you reached up on your tiptoes, closing the gap. His lips tasted like mint and chocolate, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan. “Do you um, do you wanna go out again tomorrow?” He whispered against your lips, smiling as you nodded. “Good. Pick you up at 7. Dress nice. I’m gonna make up for missing dinner tonight.”

You leaned in for another kiss, and he wasn’t complaining. Pushing you up against the door and hands holding your waist. “I gotta go honey. I’ll see you tomorrow, and I’ll have something special for you.”

And with that, he left, eyes droopy as he watched you blush before touching your fingertips to your swollen lips before disappearing behind your door. You’d never felt so strongly about someone so quickly, but Raul seemed like that kind of person who drew you in and didn’t make you regret it.

So you crawled into bed, all too excited for tomorrow and your second date. The only worry you had was what he planned on giving you in the morning.

---

You woke up to someone pounding on your door at 5am. “Who the fuck could that be?” You groaned, wrapping up in your silk robe and walking to the front of your apartment. You looked through the peephole to find Raul. Hands behind his back.

Slowly, you opened the door, the sun barely brightening the sky. “Fuck, did I wake you,?” His smile dropping at your robe clad body and ruffled hair.

You shook your head, opening the door further. “It’s fine. Just an hour early. Come in, what are you hiding?” He blushed, stepping into the apartment and pulling a bouquet of roses from behind his back, a thermos in his other hand.

“I told you I’d have something special for you, I made a few adjustments to your hot chocolate and I’m ready to add it to the menu, after your approval.” His cheeks bright pink as he handed you the matte black thermos. You took a sip, closing your eyes and humming at the taste.

“It’s absolutely amazing. What did you do?” Taking another sip, you hopped onto the counter and looked at him. His hair was messy and his shirt was unbuttoned more than usual. He looked amazing for it being so early in the morning.

Raul smiled, setting the roses on the counter. “Well, I added a little more of the milk chocolate and that hazelnut flavor you liked. And a dash a cinnamon.” He smiled proudly as you took another large sip, cursing yourself for burning your tongue.

“I was thinking of calling it the “Hazelnut Sugar” in honour of the fact you made it after your love of Nutella” a blush creeped up your cheeks as he tucked your bed ruined curls behind your ears. “I’ll let you get ready for work, don’t forget we have a date tonight.” He placed a kiss to your lips before walking out the front door, leaving you sitting in your kitchen with a stupid smile on your face and the coffee cup in your hand.

------

It’s been a few weeks since your redo date with Raul. Over a month actually. He took you out to a wonderful dinner and then out for ice cream before taking you home. Leaving you with another heated front porch makout session. You were hesitant to jump into anything intimate. You’d already told him about your ex and he understood why you want to take things slow. But the two of you were already so loving.

Everyone now knew you were official, you both spent your mornings in the coffee shop and lunch in the bakery. Raul would drive you home after closing and stay until well into the night. Every greeting started with a kiss, no matter where you were.

You were now seated at one of the tables in the cafe, since it opened an hour before you so you usually brought Raul his muffins and sat with him while he ate. And you always had your special drink of the day. If he didn’t have anything new for you to try, he’d give you a favorite of yours. Today you were drinking your hibiscus tea with lemonade when the bell above the door rang and you turned. Your face turning white at the figure in front of you.

Walking through the doorway was your ex himself. His black hair slicked back and his sunshades clipped to the front of his shirt. “Oh, hey there doll face. What are you doing here?” His voice low as he sat next to you. You looked around for Raul or any of the guys, but they were all in the back laughing at something. “So sweetheart. You settled in nicely?? Don’t worry, I’m not here long. Just up to visit Scott for a few days and I’m headed back to New York.”

You stared at the side of Raul’s face through the window as Nate spoke “You should stay. In New York. No one wants you here.” He slung an arm over your shoulder, letting out a fake gasp “Oh baby, you want me to stay.” As he leaned in to kiss your cheek, your face green and scrunched up, you wondered how none of the other customers weren’t concerned. Raul walked back into the front, staring at you two. You looked at him, eyes begging for him to stop this, tears brimming your eyes in fear and embarrassment.

He had your thermos of hot cocoa in his hands, “Hey babygirl, you should get to work. I made you your favorite” He smiled, setting down the cup and leaning in, hands cupping your face before placing a deep and passionate kiss to your lips.

“Thank you.” You mumbled against his lips before he pulled away to look at Nate.

If looks could kill, Nate would be six feet under already. “Good morning sir. How may I help you today?” he asked, keeping him distracted while you made your way next door.

---

At lunch, Raul came in, a soft look on his face. “Hey, what happened this morning. You looked terrified and I’m so sorry I wasn’t out there.” You were glad you didn’t have any customers or special orders to make as you walked over to him, falling into his embrace and letting out a few tears.

“That was Nate. My ex. He, he said he was here for a few days and oh god. He knows I live near by.” Raul rubbed your back slowly, pressing his lips to your head as you swayed gently in the entryway.

“Hey, you’re okay baby. It’s okay. He doesn’t know where you live. I’m only 15 feet away from you almost all day. And uh, if you’d like. I’ll stay with you late tonight if it’ll make you feel safer.” You nodded quickly. Fear of the last time Nate wanted to find you, and ended up breaking down your door and searching your apartment for you, taking over. You were now having a panic attack in your small lobby.

“Shhh baby, it’s okay. You’re going to be safe. How about you close down the shop, and I’ll put Brian in charge for the rest of the day and we go to my apartment instead. You can sleep easy in my bed and I can sleep on the couch tonight.” You sniffled, nodding and reaching into your pocket to grab the keys to the shop.

“Thank you, babe. I just really need to lay down.” He nodded, pressing a kiss to your head before he left to go inform Brian. You felt bad pulling him away from his work, but he offered, and how could you say no to cuddling with Raul.

You got the bakery closed up, placing a handmade sign in the window reading “Closed due to personal illness”. Raul was waiting for you in his car to go pack a bag and head to his place. “You’re gonna be safe. Today was the last time you’ll ever have to see him okay? I won’t let him hurt you again.” You smiled as he placed a hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles to keep you calm.

“Welcome to my cozy home.” He announced, motioning to the inside of his house, causing you to let out a giggle.

“It’s very cozy looking.” You noted. Taking in the soft couch and blankets. It was surprisingly clean and smelled amazing, like the inside of his shop.

You heard him clear his throat behind you. “My uhh. My room is down the hall, you can put your stuff in there. Do you want anything to drink?” You shook your head, walking towards the door he’d pointed at.

The room was simple, a large wooden framed bed with a grey comforter, a matching dresser and bedside table and a tv. Nothing extravagant, but it was cozy. You set your bag on the end of the bed, looking for your pajamas when Raul came up behind you, arms around your waist. “Hey, I’m gonna go get something for dinner tonight. Do you want to take a shower? Wash off the morning and then when I get back you can teach me how to make those cute little macaroons you have at the bakery?”

You leaned your head back against his shoulder, biting your lip “Macaroons take a long time to make sweetie, how about we cheat and you get some ice cream instead?” He chuckled, nodding his head. “Or maybe, you could just call in a pizza later and you join me in the shower?” You smirked and his eyes widened.

“How about I run a bath? You’ve had a stressful week and it’ll be good for you.” You nodded, sighing and turning to face him.

There was a playful grin on your face as you spoke. “Will this relaxing bath include my boyfriend?” Raul leaned down, kissing you softly.

“If that’s what you want. Of course. But I promise I won’t try anything funny.” You let out a giggle, kissing his chest gently. What a fucking gentleman.

---

The warm water felt good on your skin as you leaned back against Raul’s chest. His chest that had a sparrow tattoo that he said matches his brothers and a very beautiful floral piece on his shoulder. His hands rested on your thighs, rubbing small circles. “So, what kind of pizza do you want? Or would you rather I order you a pasta?” his voice was low as he mumbled against your heated skin.

“Are you really asking me about dinner right now? You’ve got a naked girl in your lap and you’re asking about food??” you giggled, placing your hands on his forearms.

He kissed your shoulder gently, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. “What would you rather talk about my love?” Shrugging, you leaned your head back for a kiss and he happily obliged. You reached back and tugged a little on those soft curls, earning a groan. “You’re supposed to be relaxing.” He warned, kissing along your shoulder.

“Right, right” You smiled, relaxing back against his chest and closing your eyes. “Raul? Will you sleep with me tonight? I just don’t feel safe and I’d feel a lot better if you were there with me.” He smiled, nodding and burying his nose in your hair.

“Of course. It’s whatever you want. I’m here to keep you safe.” He emphasized his point by squeezing you tightly, pulling you closer to him.

——

Now sat on the couch in one of Raul’s shirts and the shorts you brought, you heard the doorbell ring and Raul let out a groan. “Fuck I forgot it’s Wednesday. I always have dinner with my brothers on Wednesday here.” He looked over at you with an apologetic smile. “I can tell them to go home. You have already delt with enough today, you don’t need the stress of meeting my brothers for the first time.” You just shook your head and rubbed his thigh. “No it’s okay, I’d love to meet them. I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t order dinner yet.” He smiled at you, getting up to open the door for his siblings.

You heard them walk into the house and your nerves picked up. Here you were, meeting your boyfriend’s family for the first time and you were wearing his clothes and no makeup. “Oh shit, we didn’t know you had company Raul.” you looked up prepared for younger brothers, but instead saw two men that looked exactly like Raul. To an extent.

“Oh yeah, uh remember when I told you I was seeing someone?” they nodded, staring at you on the couch, in what was obviously their brother’s shirt. “This is my girlfriend, she uh, needed to stay here for the night because of some personal stuff. Be fucking nice.” He growled at them and you giggled.

The brother that noticed you first spoke, “Hi, I’m Shawn.” he smiled, holding his hand out for you to shake. He was almost as big as Raul, but his hair was slightly shorter and he had way less tattoos, but you saw the sparrow on his hand that matched Raul’s. “I’m sorry we barged in on you two, we always have dinner on Wednesday and we never think to call first.”

You shook your head, “Oh no, it’s perfectly fine, we were actually about to order some pizza, I think. I hope that’s okay with you guys.” He smiled, sitting on the smaller couch and looking at the third triplet who was talking to Raul about some new building coming up in town.

“Hey, I’m Peter.” he finally said, noticing you and Shawn were done with introductions. “It’s really nice to meet you, Raul never has girls over.” he smirks and Raul smacks the back of Peter’s head. Opposite of Shawn, Peter’s hair was longer than Raul’s and from what you can see, other than the sparrow you can see peeking out from the cuff of his jeans, he doesn’t have any other tattoos.

All four of you sat in the living room and talked while you waited for the delivery driver to arrive, you learned that Shawn was a business owner as well. He owned a music shop and taught guitar to kids and performed at the coffee shop on occasion. Peter was an architect, hence why he was talking to Raul about a new building. You were already very comfortable with the guys and you were grateful for that.

The doorbell rang for the second time and you got up to get the food, letting the guys catch up. “Hey, I have an order for Mendes?” the guy said, looking at the receipt and you nodded when he looked over at you. “It was paid for online.” he blubbered, obviously nervous when you took the boxes and handed him some cash.

“I know, here. Thanks for coming out here.” you smiled at him and he blushed, he couldn’t have been older than seventeen. “Have a nice night.” you waved at him and closed the door. Turning to the kitchen you heard Raul talking to his brothers.

You couldn’t help but listen in. “I know but she was so stressed after he showed up, I couldn’t let her sit at home alone. She was scared enough in the shop. I’m taking it slow, I really like her and you guys know I’m not usually one to be affectionate, but there’s something about her.” You blushed, taking the paper plates and joining them in the living room again.

---

Crawling into bed, happy and full of takeout pasta and ice cream, you curled up next to Raul. He was wearing some fuzzy plaid pajama pants and his torso was bare. “Hey, he’ll be gone in a few days and you’ll be free of him. I’m going to take care of you sugar” You laughed and nudged his arm at the nickname.

“I know you will. Thank you, you’re the most amazing person.” You whispered against his skin before he placed a finger under your chin and brought your face to his, kissing you softly. His lips were soft and tasted like his mint toothpaste. His oversized shirt raised above your hips as you reached up to play with his hair.

He let out a hum at the feeling. “They like you, ya know. They think you’re good for me, good to me. And coming from them, that’s a compliment.” You hummed, pressing a lazy kiss to his jaw. There was something about Raul that made you feel comfortable, like you could do anything and he’d love it. You pulled your hand away to scratch your wrist and he let out a whine. “Play with my hair again?” he asked and nuzzledinto your neck.

How in the hell were you supposed to deny him when he looked so soft? So you threaded your fingers into his hair and kissed his forehead gently. Eventually he decided you needed to stop or he’d fall asleep, so you switched places, Raul playing with your hair until you finally fell asleep, curled into his side. Your head on his chest and thigh resting lazily over his hip. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he whispered a soft goodnight to you before lowering the volume on the tv and shutting off the lamp.

----

When you woke up, Raul was gone, but you could smell something from the kitchen. As you sat up to follow the smell, you felt a piece of paper on the sheets. Picking it up you read

“Stay in bed. I’ll be back soon. Don’t go anywhere!”

You laughed at the note, he was excited about something and plus, he was just so damn cute. The something was revealed to you when he walked into the bedroom, a tray covered in breakfast food in his large hands. “Good morning gorgeous. Did you sleep okay?” You mumbled a yes as he crawled into bed next to you, handing you your plate of bacon and cheese covered eggs and cup of tea.

“So I was thinking. Maybe I should call the guys and have them run the shop today, and we can have our own day? Just resting and watching movies or something. I mean. You’ve already got the sign up at the shop.” he asked, looking at you like he was praying for you to say yes. You knew he was just worried about you.

You thought about it for a moment, taking a sip of your tea. “I guess one day out of the bakery couldn’t hurt. As long as there is cuddling involved.”

Raul smiled widely as he nuzzled his face into your neck. “Good. Because I already called the boys to cover.”

You gasped, gently hitting his shoulder. “You planned this!” He just chuckled, kissing along your neck before stealing a piece of your bacon. His curls tickling your cheek as he held you. “Okay, do you want to learn how to make my new pumpkin recipe for the fall?” he nodded quickly, always eager to try something new. He had become your personal taste tester for you new recipes.

---

Looking at all the ingredients on the counter, you smiled. This was the first time you’d be sharing a recipe with someone, and it was a new one.

“You know.” Raul said, settling against the counter next to you, “I was thinking, it’s about time you made a menu item for me.” That cheesy grin on his face.

“Raul. You already do have one. The double chocolate muffins with extra chocolate chips.” He pouted, pulling up his phone.

“But I’ve already started on another one for you. I was thinking a special blend of your hibiscus tea with that lemonade you like. I never put lemonades in my tea unless it’s a special order.” He stated, looking at his phone, very obviously taking photos of you.

Your cheeks now a soft pink. He wanted to add another special to the menu just for you. “I’ll think about it.” You giggled, kissing his chest.

You were currently making the brown sugar and cinnamon frosting, a bowl of fresh cinnamon sticks waiting on the counter. “Babe? Can I help with anything?” He asked, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You shook your head, grating some cinnamon into the bowl. “Nope. You made my breakfast this morning. I’ll make your dessert tonight.”

“But I was thinking of a different treat for dessert this evening.” He smirked, watching as you took a taste of the frosting.

Your eyes widened at his statement and he bit his lip. “Hey, if you’re planning on doing that, you might wanna get to work on dinner. I usually have wine with mine.”

He raised his eyebrows. “A wine drinker?” He asked and you nodded.

“I have been since I was 18.” You informed him, placing the frosting into the fridge and checking the timer on the cupcakes.

He tilted his head at you. “Babe, the legal age in the states is 21.”

You put a finger over your lips. “Shhhhh. Mom was very easy going.” You laughed, picking up a kitchen rag and cleaning up the counters to start on the chicken you were planning on making for dinner.

“Those smell amazing by the way. I haven’t had real cooking in my kitchen in a long time. Like I said. I’ve kinda been living off of coffee and your muffins. Dinner usually consists of takeout or a sandwich.”

You smiled, finishing your cleaning and reaching for the glass of water. “Well, if you keep be around there will be real dinners.” You smirked, walking over to take the dirty utensils to the sink.

“I’ll wash the dishes. Why don’t you open that cabinet there and make a choice.” You looked at him, face twisted in confusion before opening the door to see a small room full of wine.

“Are you kidding me? I swear you’re perfect.” You sighed, searching to see if he had that sweet red you enjoyed so much. “Ah. Yes!” You squealed, pulling out the bottle and walking back into the kitchen.

Raul had already washed all the dishes, and grabbed two wine glasses and was now waiting for you in the living room. “You’ve made a good choice.” He commented as he saw the bottle in your hands.

“It’s my favorite. I always prefer a sweeter wine. Never was a fan of the dryer ones.” You shrugged, sitting next to him and popping the cork before pouring you both a good sized glass.

——

”Don’t go wasting your emotions. Lay all your love on me!” You shouted along with the song, Raul down on his knees as he serenades you from the floor, looking up at you standing on the coffee table and singing into your wine glass. You both were now 4 glasses and a whole bottle of wine in, doing impromptu karaoke in the living room. The idea of dinner was long forgotten after you ate the cupcakes. You were grateful Raul didn’t have neighbors so far out into the woods here.

As the song came to an end, Raul stood up, grabbing your waist and lifting you off the table. Ed Sheeran’s “Barcelona” blasting through the house. He began spinning you around, singing to you. You had to admit that he was an excellent singer, you assume he learned from Shawn. Maybe it ran in the family. He even got the Spanish correct. But the whole mood changed when Elvis’ “Can’t Help Falling In Love” started playing.

You were now swaying drunkenly around the living room, Raul holding tightly to your waist and your arms resting on his shoulders. “Mmm move in with me.” He mumbled, burying his face in your neck.

“Babe, we’ve been dating for a little over a month.” you giggled, finding his offer funny.

He shook his head, laughing at his own words “Oh. Haha I guess so. Just seems so natural with you.” You weren’t sure if this was drunken talk or his sober thoughts finally coming out, so you kissed his chest and smiled as the intimate song ended and a more upbeat tune started.

In your wine drunken state, you spun around, pressing yourself against his groin and started grinding your hips to the beat. His hands instantly flying to your hips and pressing his semi against you. “Fuck. Babe you can’t do that. We are taking things slow.” You laughed, turning back around and pulling him towards the couch. He took a seat on the couch, expecting you to lay next to him, not straddle him and place a kiss to his neck.

“Just wanna have a drunk make out session with my boyfriend.” You breathed, cupping his face and kissing him. It was hungry and sloppy but it was perfect. His hands instantly gripping at your hips, grinding you down into him as he tugged on your bottom lip. “You should stay here again tonight. Can’t have you home alone and we aren’t in a state to drive. Plus, I like having you in my bed.” You nodded, now suddenly tired as the alcohol runs it’s usual course.

Raul laughed at your sudden change in mood, carrying you to bed. “You know, I really do like you. I might even love you.” You admitted as you crawled up to the pillow and stripped off the shirt that was now too hot. You didn’t care. He’d seen you naked in the tub the night before.

“I might love you too. Now get some sleep. We’ve got work in the morning.” He reminded you, pulling you into his chest and running his fingers along your back to ease you to sleep.

——-

You heard Raul’s phone ring twice before he answered. “Hello? Babe are you okay? Why are you calling me if you’re right next door.”

You laughed on your side of the phone “Raul can you come over please? I have something to show you.” You were all too excited to show him the new creation you’d made. It was a mocha flavoured cupcake with a white chocolate icing. You had made a whole dozen of them and they were waiting on the counter.

“What is it honey?” He asked as he walked in the door, the teenage girls at the table eating their cupcakes blushing at the gorgeous man in front of them.

“I made that second item you’d asked for.” You smiled, motioning to the cupcakes on the counter. “They’re mocha cupcakes.” You informed him as he picked one up.

He looked over at you, eyes bright and full of adoration. “Like my favorite drink flavour. But what ever shall we call this?” He asked in a mocking tone.

“Well, I was thinking of calling it the”Mendes Mocha” a wide smile on his face told you that was a good choice. “You’re so cute, oh my god I love you.” That was the first time he’d said that. However, you knew by the way his smile never faltered, that he meant it.

You giggled as you heard the two girls gasp. “I- I love you too.” And without saying anything else, Raul leaned across the counter for a kiss.

“I love you.” He mumbled again, brushing your hair behind your ear and stealing another kiss.

“You’re coming over tonight. No questions asked. I’m ready.” He pulled back, looking at you with a questioning face. “I am. Now get back to the shop. And take these cupcakes! I made them for you and the guys.” You handed him the plate and smiled as you watched him leave the bakery. Tonight would be perfect.

———

The sun was already low when Raul knocked on your door, takeout burgers in the bag he was holding. You let him in, smiling at the tattooed man and giving him a kiss. “Thought I’d bring you some of the best burgers in the area. It’s my favourite place to go for curly fries.”

You snatched the bag from his hands “Mendes if there are no curly fries in this bag, I’m sending you home and tonight will be cancelled.”

He let out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your head. “There’s extra curly fries in the bag. Special just for you.” You hummed in satisfaction as you popped a fry into your mouth.

They were Cajun seasoned, your favorite. “You may stay.” You stated, pulling out the food and taking a seat on the couch. “Are we gonna finish ‘Nailed It’ or do we wanna watch a movie?” You asked, clicking to Netflix as Raul sat next to you, pulling your feet into his lap.

You looked over at him, waiting for an answer. “I was thinking Dirty Dancing. You seem to really like that one.” You gave him a look, raising your eyebrows as if to ask “are you really gonna watch this movie?” He nodded, taking the remote from you and pressing play on it.

“This is my favorite part!” You squealed, as it cuts to the final scene. All the talent show acts singing on stage before Johnny comes back for the final dance. “You know. I know how to do that.” Raul blurted out, taking a sip of water.

Raising your eyebrows, you turned to face him. “Do what?” You looked down at his chest, his button down unbuttoned completely and just hanging on his shoulders.

He just shrugged, “The lift they are about to do. I can do that. The hockey team lost a bet in high school with the dance team, me and my brothers were on the team, and we had to learn this. We ended up being their partners for the spring show. If we had won, they were gonna learn to play hockey.”

You just stared at him. “Show me.” He nodded, standing up and walking in front of the couch.

You got up and stood on the opposite side of the living room, staring at him skeptically. “Come on baby. I’ll catch you.” You laughed, not sure if he was referencing the movie or really calling you the nickname, but still stood up. However, you didn’t doubt he would catch you.

You bit your lip nervously, you’d always wanted to do this. When you were younger you danced and always hoped you’d get to have that perfect lift but you quit before you made it that far. “You got this babe.” He cheered as it was time for the lift and you ran towards him, your toes pointing the second he lifted you off the wood flooring and held you above his head.

You new the form pretty well so you held it for a few seconds before he was sliding you down his body. Your legs wrapping around his waist, stopping you from going any further.

He looked at you, your body flush against his, gasping as you leaned down for a hungry kiss, lips crashing into his. “You sure you’re ready baby?” You nodded, tugging the open button down off his shoulders as he walked the two of you to your bedroom.

He stumbled a little over the towels on the floor, causing you to let out a giggle. “I should pick those up.” You mumbled into his mouth before pulling away to tug your shirt off your heated body, tossing it onto the floor next to the towels.

Laying you down carefully, he hooked his fingers into the band of your leggings . “Baby are you sure you want this? We can stop if you want.” You shook your head, lifting up your hips.

“I want this Raul. Please do something.” He didn’t need any more confirmation before he slowly slid the fabric down your thighs. His eyes widening at your half naked body, you bit your lip, his eyes making you self conscious.

“No no baby, you look amazing.” He reassured you before ridding you of your panties and tugging down his boxers, joining you in your naked state. “I- uh, I have a condom in my jeans. I’ve got to go get it.” You nodded your head, watching the way he opened the package. “I love you so much. I promise I’ll be gentle.” You smiled at now nervous he suddenly sounded, and ran a hand through his curls. “Hey, you okay Raul?” He nodded, kissing your lips softly.

“Just, it’s been a while and, god I just love you so much. Wanna make you feel so good.” Letting out a chuckle you mumbled an “I love you too.”

—

“Come here baby.” He said as he leaned back on the bed, arms open for you to curl into. And that’s exactly what you did. Your head on his chest, listening to his heart rate slow down as he held you tightly to him. “I love you Raul.” You hummed out before your eyes closed and sleep took over. “I love you too.”

Raul’s lips on your shoulder woke you up. “Wake up baby, gotta get ready for work.” You let out a groan before rolling over and pressing your lips against his gently. “Just a few more minutes. Wanna be with my boyfriend.”

He chucked against your lips. “You see me all day honey.” He reminded you, hand coming up to rest on your jaw. This thumb was pressing against your pulse point gently and your jaw went slack.

“S’ not the same though” you pouted as he sat up and put on his jeans.

“I’m taking my white shirt back for the day.” He announced as he took the shirt off the hanger to wear. You’d kept it after a date that ended up at your apartment in the bath. You just laid there and watched him get dressed, muscles contracting as he moved. “You’re staring.” He stated.

You blushed, having being caught and looked down at your rings. “You’re pretty.” You mumbled, looking back up at him and letting the sheets fall off your chest and settle at your hips.

He walked back over to you, kissing your nose softly. “Be at the cafe in 30 minutes?? I’ve got something new for you to try.” You nodded, crawling out of bed to get ready for the day as Raul let himself out.

Last night was better than you’d imagined. And you hoped there’d be more. Simply because Raul was so gentle with you, but you were still sore. So you settled for wearing a sundress today, as jeans wouldn’t help the situation. “He’s gonna be the death of me.” You mumbled as you made your way to the cafe.

——-

October

Working all alone in the bakery got really stressful around holidays. Lots of people wanted cupcakes and cakes made for Halloween back home and since you were still shipping, you had at least 10 orders to make. So here you were, hair in a messy bun, running around putting cupcake tins in the large ovens and setting other tins to cool in the blast chiller, while also trying to decorate the desserts correctly and exactly the same.

“Honey! I’m here for lunch!” Raul announced, holding a bag of paninis from the shop down the street and a lemonade for you.

You poked your head out of the kitchen, frosting on your forehead and he smiled at you. “I’ll be out in just a minute baby, I’ve gotta finish these cupcakes.” You rushed the words out before returning to the baked goods on the counters, picking up the bag of orange frosting and icing the jumbo cupcakes in front of you.

They were supposed to have orange frosting and a small fondant hat. You made this kind every year for a family that lived next to you back home. Along with a few other specific orders, like the coffin cake the Briggs’ wanted and the double bunt cake that was made to be a pumpkin.

Raul nodded, taking a seat on the counter behind you and licking the batter off of a bowl. “The dark chocolate batter is really good babe.” He mumbled over the finger in his mouth as he licked the batter off of it.

“Thanks, I revamped it with some chilli powder for a family back home. It’s a special order.” Finally setting down the frosting bag, you leaned in for a kiss and tasted the batter on his tongue.

You moaned into his mouth when his hand came up to your neck. “I got you that ham and cheese panini you love. With the spinach.” He smiled at you, handing you your sandwich.

“You’re the absolute best.” You praised over a mouth full of food. Raul laughed at you, taking a large bite of his own lunch before stealing a sip of your lemonade. “That’s mine Mendes.”

He flashed you a cheesy grin, handing you the cup. “I think you need to hire some help baby. You work in here all day by yourself and I know you’re really stressed right now.” The worry evident in his voice. “Yes, but if I do, I’ll lose the excuse for nightly back rubs and stress induced sex.” He let out a chuckle, arms open in a silent plea for you to stand between his parted legs.

He spun you around and placed a kiss to the back on your neck. “How about this.” He proposed, his thumbs digging into your shoulders. “You hire some help, and then you can close up shop earlier and we can have more dates and then wine induced sex.”

The offer was reasonable. And you were in need of some extra hands around the kitchen anyways. Holiday orders would soon be approaching and you’d definitely need help. “That works, I’ll start looking for some extra help.” He smiled against your neck before placing another gentle kiss to the skin.

“The boys have things handled at the cafe. Why don’t I help for the rest of the day?” His arms wrapping around your waist as you walked to the sink to wash your hands.

You giggled at his clinginess. For someone so large and tattooed and pierced, he was the softest person you’d ever met. “Hmmmm I could use some help. As long as I get periodic kisses. I’ve been so busy lately and I’ve missed my boyfriend.”

Turning around to dry your hands, Raul grabbed your face and planted a sloppy kiss to your lips. “I missed you too baby. How about you come over after work today and I’ll set up a bath for you. It’s been two weeks since I’ve had any time with you.”

You nodded, kissing him again softly before getting back to work. “Come on lover boy. I’m going to teach you how to properly frost a cupcake.”

——

A month later.

It all happened so fast, you aren’t exactly sure how it happened. One second you were opening the oven to get the cupcakes out, and the next you were on the floor screaming. Raul heard you from next door and came sprinting through the shop. “Baby? Baby what happened!” His voice frantic as you laid on the floor, clutching your arm before you passed out from the pain.

You’d been awake for 2 days straight, and in your exhausted state, your hand slipped and landed on the oven grate. Burns raising on your skin as Raul carried you to the car, he yelled at James to cover your shop and clean up the kitchen for you. “Fuck, baby it’s okay. I’m gonna take you to the hospital.”

You were now set up in a hospital bed. Your left arm burning as you tried to remember what happened to your arm. “Raul?” You croaked, and he shot up from the chair.

“Oh good you’re up. How’s your arm?” His fingers resting on your shoulder.

“Fucking hurts.” You chuckled, looking at the bandages running from your fingertips to your elbow. They were a pale pink color and you're sure he’d asked them for that color wrapping.

“You took a bit of a fall there babe. Third degree burns on your hand and forearm.” He told you, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles.

“Here’s the cream for the burns.” The doctor announced as he walked in the room. “Your paperwork has been done and you are good to go home. You’ve got to rest and relax for a few days and keep that arm away from the heat. I’ve got some topical cooling cream for you in a bag and you should apply it twice a day. It’ll draw out the heat and heal it quicker.” You nodded at the instructions before thanking him and being discharged.

However, the ride home was anything but relaxing. “I just can’t fucking understand why you don’t have extra help yet. You fucking burned up your arm baby! And all because you were too caught up in work to even fucking sleep. That’s it. You’re staying with me now. I’m making sure that you sleep. And that your arm is healed. Then I’m calling a few of the college students who sometimes help me during the holidays and they are going to take over. Because you’re not getting hurt again!”

The yelling was anticipated, Raul was always protective of you. But you weren’t prepared for him to be this angry. “Raul I didn’t do it on purpose! I was tired and I slipped. It could’ve happened to anyone.”

At that, his face softened at the next comment. “But it didn’t happen to anyone. It happened to you, and now you’re hurt badly. Please stay with me. Let me take care of you.”

“Raul are you suggesting I move in with you?” You asked, trying to lighten the situation and change the topic.

There was a brief moment of silence, aside from the radio before he spoke “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Move in with me. Please?” There was another pause before he stopped at a stop light and you leaned over, gently grabbing his hand.

“I will. Of course I will.” He looked over at you wide eyed, speeding to your apartment.

The moving in started right away. Literally. Raul made that stop at your apartment where you both packed up all you possibly could. You were taking a while, only able to use one hand really, but you were able to pack an over night bag while He loaded up everything he could into the back of his car and the trunk . “You ready baby??” He asked as you made your way to him.

“I am!” You smiled, hopping into the front seat and resting your feet on the dashboard. “I’ve never lived with a boyfriend before.” You admitted as he pulled into his own driveway.

“I have never lived with a girlfriend before.” He told you, grabbing your things and letting you into the house. “I’ll unpack your stuff okay? You lay down and get some rest. I’m planning a movie date tonight.”

—-

You woke up about 11, the sun was long gone and the house was illuminated by a few lamps. “Good morning sleeping beauty.” Raul whispered as he looked at you in his lap, his fingers carding through your hair. “You sleep okay?” A small hum left your chest as you nuzzled into his side. “I’ve got some soup on the counter for you. Broccoli cheddar.”

You smiled up at him. “That’s my favourite kind.” You sighed, still groggy from sleep. Before you laid down, you took one of the sleep aids the doctor prescribed since you were sleep deprived.

He nodded, turning down the tv. “I know honey. You’ve told me. I just figured it’d be best. You sounded a little sick too. I think it’s the lack of sleep your getting. Making you sick sweetheart.”

You looked down at your left arm, frowning at the ugly bandages. “I’m going to stay with you for a few days okay? The boys have the cafe and I called a few of my holiday helpers to to cover the orders for you. They have very specific instructions, so they will make sure it’s done properly and all the orders go out.” You leaned up, pressing a lazy kiss to his chapped lips. “You’re amazing. Did you know that?” You asked, sitting up and straddling him to get a good look at his face. You noticed a small hole in the top of his ear and smiled. “You used to have an industrial?” You asked, reaching up to touch the hole.

He nodded, laughing. “Yeah, I took it out when I was seeing this one girl who said she thought it was stupid.” He looked at you, your face contorted in a weird expression. “What? You don’t like that I’ve seen other girls before you?”

You laughed and shook your head. “No, I just think it’s stupid you took it out. It would be so hot. I’ve actually been thinking of getting some modifications myself.” You stated proudly, looking at your lap. “When I was graduating college, all my friends got tattoos and nipple piercings and I was nervous but I still wanna do it.”

At the mention of nipple piercings, Raul let out a moan. “I can call Lex, of the the artists at the shop I go to if you really want to.” He suggested and you nodded.

—

The two of you watched Deadpool 2 as you ate. Raul feeding you because he claimed the bowl was too hot for you to hold. Protective Raul was always present and so was his cuddly side. The way he pulled you into his lap and nuzzled into your neck made you realize that you were head over heels in love with them man, and it had only been 4 months.

You’d never lived with someone before, and you were always convinced you’d be nervous as hell. But this felt comfortable. You practically lived with Raul anyways, so it only made sense. And if you were being honest with yourself, you could see yourself with him forever. But what you didn’t know. Is that he could see that too.

—-

December

The orders were all reds and whites and greens. Peppermint was everywhere. In the frosting, as decoration, in your hot cocoa Raul brought you during the day. There were orders for Santa hat cupcakes and cupcakes like wreaths. Red and green macaroons with white filling, and you couldn’t have been happier about it all. Eli, Conner, and Britt were all such a huge help in the kitchen.

“Sweetheart. I have your hot cocoa here. There’s also a gift for you.” You walked out of the kitchen to see Raul, his grey knit sweater hugging his biceps perfectly.

You looked down at the box on your counter “Baby Christmas isn’t for a few more days. What is this for?” He just shrugged, sliding the box towards you.

“Open it and see. I think you’ll love it.” His face now a bright red as the nerves set in.

You gently tore off the pretty blue paper, placing the bow on top of your steaming cup, before lifting off the top of the box and letting out a gasp. “Oh, Raul!” You sighed, holding up the soft red silk dress and a pair of black heels.

“I figured you could wear it to dinner tonight. You said you wanted to look nice for this evening and I wanted to get you the best.” He was beaming at your excitement.

The dress was dropped into the box as you hugged him tightly. “It’s amazing. Oh my god! I can’t wait to wear it and it’ll go amazing with the black purse I just got for my birthday!”

He smiled that cheesy grin you loved before placing a kiss to your lips. “I’ll come get you about 4 and we can go home to get ready. You’ve got this today, right guys?” He leaned back to look at the 18 year olds in the kitchen and got a collective “yeah!”

—-

“Oh fuck you look so good.” He breathed as you came out to the living room where he was waiting for you. He had already put on his black slacks, his button down was the same color as your dress and you smiled. You did a quick spin so he could see everything. “Compliments to my stylist.” You laughed, taking his hand before he led you to the car. Both of you wrapped in big coats to combat the cold air.

Finally arriving to the restaurant, Raul ran over to your door, opening it for you and helping you across the snow covered parking lot. “I’ve never seen this much snow before.” You commented, looking at the white streets glittering in the lights of the building. “It’s so beautiful I could just cry.”

He just looked at you and smiled, pressing a kiss to your head. “You’re just so perfect baby. I love you so much.” You hummed, looking up at him and asking for his that he happily gave you.

The restaurant was warm and there was a small tree in the foyer and some garland here and there. “It’s a special night for us. Why don’t you bring us a bottle of your best wine. Make sure it’s a sweet wine please. That’s my girl’s favourite.” Raul spoke to the waiter, a smile on his face the whole time.

“Ooh, what’s he special occasion?” The boy’s face lit up, glad he was involved in something special.

Raul sat up straighter, grabbing your hand and noticing you were wearing the bracelet he got you for your birthday. “Well. It’s my 6 month anniversary with this gorgeous angel. And she just recently decided to move in with me.”

The boy smiled, sending you a “congratulations” as he left to get the wine and stumbled over his feet a little. “I think someone has a little admirer.” he laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your hand. “You really do look amazing sugar. That color looks so good on you. I just knew it would.” A blush crept up your cheeks as you squeezed his hand.

“Well you don’t look too bad yourself. I’ve never seen you in a suit before.” You sat back to look at him. The black suit fitting him perfectly and that red button down making you have impure thoughts at the dinner table.

“Here you go guys, this one is on the house. Happy anniversary.” Archie, your waiter smiled as he placed a plate with a large brownie and a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top in front of you. On the plate, written in chocolate sauce was “Happy Anniversary” with a little heart. You looked over at Raul and smiled, thanking Archie before grabbing and spoon and taking a bite, Raul doing the same.

Walking back to the car, you made a small snowball and threw it at Raul who was fishing for his keys in the pocket of his jacket, hitting him in the shoulder. “Oh you’re in for it now babygirl!” He laughed, throwing a snowball back at you and getting you in the back.

The two of you had a small snowball fight in the parking lot before the cold got to your fingers and you needed to go warm up.

—-

“Oh baby they’re freezing!” He scolded as he held your hands in front of the fireplace back at the house. You were both wrapped up in a blue blanket, clad in your pajamas and mugs of hot cocoa on the table

“I love you so much. And I’m so grateful that you decided to move up here and open up shop right next to me.” He mumbled against your fingers.

You noticed he was paying extra attention to your ring finger. “I am too. It’s like fate knew we’d be perfect for each other.” As you spoke, you leaned your head against his shoulder, your eyes drooping as your body went slack against Raul’s.

“Get some sleep, love. We can stay right here tonight. We don’t have work tomorrow.” He reminded you, rubbing your back gently as you grabbed a pillow from the couch and curled up in his lap.

“I love you, Raul.” Your body giving in to the sleep.

“I love you too.” He smiled, laying down next to you, his face nuzzled into your neck. His thoughts riddled of the memory of you tonight, and the ring, sitting in a black velvet box in the glove box of his car. Waiting for that soon approaching day

—-

You woke up on the floor, forgetting you’d fallen asleep in front of the fire the night before. Raul was pressed against your back, already awake. “Morning darling. You ready?” He asked, pressing a kiss to the back for your head.

“Ready for wh- oh fuck. I forgot. Yeah.” You chuckled nervously, remembering today was your appointment with Lex. For Christmas Raul decided he was gonna pay for your piercings and then if you wanted a tattoo.

“You don’t have to babe. I can always cancel it if you wanna back out.” You shook your head, determined to do this. “Alright, let's go then babe.” He swatted your butt and you got up to get dressed.

You decided on a bodysuit and a pair of jeans, just in case you decided on a tattoo as well. “Well sugar, you ready?” Raul asked as you walked into the shop. You were shaking in anticipation.

“Morning Raul!” A guy waved at you two from behind the counter. “You have an appointment?” He asked, looking at the schedule book on the counter.

“She does.” He smiled, nudging you and walking you to the guy at the counter. “She’s got a piercing and a possible tattoo with Lex.”

The man held out his hand and smiled at you. “Hey, I’m Will. You can follow me back here.” He said and waived you and Raul back to a room in the back for privacy.

“Morning gorgeous.” A lady, you assumed was Lex, smiled at you from her chair. “If you’re ready, you can pull the top down and settle into the chair.” She said, pulling on a pair of latex gloves.

You looked over at Raul, who was smiling at you, while Will put on a pair of gloves as well. He just grabbed your hand as you laid down and pulled the top below your chest. “Okay I’m ready.” You announced and dropped Raul’s hand tightly.

“Okay honey, close your eyes and take a deep breath.” Lex told you after she’d applied the clamp. You did as you were told, letting out a soft whimper as the needle pierced your flesh. “This one will hurt a little more. But you’re doing just fine. Will, you ready?” She asked looking at Will who was standing by Raul’s head. He nodded and at the same time she pierced your second side, Will pushed a needle through Raul’s closed up industrial.

You let out a scream but stayed still as Lex screwed the barbell together. “Oh baby, that looks so sexy.” Raul said, looking over at you after Will had secured the stud. “Do you wanna do a tattoo too? Christmas gifts galore?”

Lex handed you a mirror so you could look for yourself and you let out an excited squeal. “Oh these are so cute!” You smiled, handing the mirror back, pulling your top back up and looking over at Raul to see his stud. “You look sexy too babe.” He smiled, pulling out his phone to take a photo of his ear to send to Shawn and Peter.

“Well, would you like to do a tattoo as well? Raul says he’s paying, so do whatever you’d like.” You bit your lip, remembering the floral piece your friend sent you that you wanted. You wanted to get it because it had your parents and yours favorite flowers. She’d done it after your parents passed away two years ago in a car accident.

You nodded your head, pulling up the photo, but not showing Raul. “Can we do that?” You asked Lex, nervous she’d be hesitant since it’s not her own work. “My best friend did it and it’s really personal. I have the rights to the piece.”

She nodded and smiled, waving the guys out of her room. “What does it mean?” She asked as she shut the door and started disinfecting everything for the tattoo.

“When I was 21, my parents got into a car crash. They didn’t make it. The roses were my dad’s favorite, well at least for every Valentine’s Day he gave me pink roses. My mom loved tropical flowers, hence the hibiscus, then my favorite is the peony.” You smiled at the memory of your parents.

She hugged you gently, careful of the new jewellery and pulled back to trace the photo that you sent her. “Where do we wanna put this masterpiece?” She asked, motioning to your body.

“I was thinking my thigh, so that way I can see it, but it’s covered for my wedding day.” You had made the choice a long time ago that no tattoos would be visible until after your wedding.

She looked over at you, eyes wide. “I didn’t know you and rail were getting married!” You laughed and shook your head.

“No no, it’s just a rule I have. No visible tattoos until I’m married. For photos.” She nodded in understanding and apologised for the assumption. “Oh you’re fine. I can see where the confusion came from.”

—-

A little over an hour later you were ready to go. The tattoo was bandaged and finished, and you thanked Lex profusely for the beautiful work. She even added a little color to it to make it special.

“You all ready my little rebel?” Raul asked as you met him in the lobby. He also had a bandage on his opposite bicep.

“Oh finally working on the blank arm?” You asked, looking at the cling wrap. It was covered by a black piece so you couldn’t see it. “Why can’t I see?” You pouted, looking up at him.

He smiled, pulling out his wallet and making his way to the counter to pay for your new additions. “It’s a surprise babe. I’ll show you later. Here.” He handed you the keys. “Go start the car okay? I’ll be there in a minute.” So you made your way to the car, careful of the seatbelt as you got settled in and scanned the radio.

Raul got in shortly after, smiling at you. “Merry Christmas my love.” He hummed, pulling out of the parking lot and making his way to the house. “So when are you gonna show me what you got?”

You looked down at your thigh and smiled. “When we get home. When can I see yours?” You quipped, tapping his arm and smiling.

“When we get home.” He smiled, holding his hand out for you to take. “I’m proud of you for today. And you look really hot. But you also looked really hot before.” He winked at you, pulling into the driveway. “Let’s go do our reveal.” He grinned, turning off the car.

Now sat on the bed, the sheets covering the masterpiece on your leg. “Now before you say anything, this is a really special tattoo. And I don’t want you to look at me all sad, I’m okay.” You warned, tossing the sheet off your body to show the bouquet.

“That’s beautiful, darling. What’s it for?” He asked, fingers brushing against your thigh before grabbing your hand.

You squeezed it gently. “Two years ago my parents died in a car crash. They were going to a bed and breakfast and there was an accident on the slippery roads. These are mine and my parents favorite flowers.” You looked down at them, leaning against his side.

“I’m sorry baby. I’m glad you could do something to memorialize them.” He kissed the top of your head. “Would you like to see what I did?” He asked, pulling the tape off his arm.

You nodded eagerly, eyes glued to the spot on his bicep. He pulled his covering away to reveal a small peony flower in the steam coming off of a cup of coffee. “It’s uh, it’s for you.” He blushed, watching as you years up at the gesture.

“Did you know that I love you, Raul Mendes?” You asked, launching yourself over and into his lap to cup his cheeks. He nodded, pressing his his against yours feverishly.

——————

New Year’s Eve

You were back in that red dress, a glass of champagne in your hand as you talked to Peter. You were all at a party on top of a building, and there was about 10 minutes until midnight. You were on your second glass of champagne, but you were still very aware of what was going on.

Raul had been nervous all day, almost forgetting his shoes before you left for the party, taking a wrong turn and making you 20 minutes late to the party.

He was in that black suit again, this time wearing a crisp white button down and a navy blue tie. He looked like an absolute dream, and while the party was black tie, he seemed very dressed up. “Baby your macarons and champagne cupcakes are a huge hit tonight!” He smiled, placing a kiss to your cheek.

“Well, they were in high demand this season so I figured they’d be the best option and James’s wife Avery was so excited to pick them up this afternoon.” You smiled, wiping some frosting off the corner of his lip.

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, the more nervous Raul looked. His face looked flushed and his hands were shaking. You figured he was nervous about driving home after the party or maybe he wasn’t so comfortable around this many people.

Raul’s hands wrapped around your waist as you watched the tick down the seconds. “5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” And you were spun around, Raul’s lips crashing against yours as he held you close to him.

“Partner with me.” He mumbled against your lips “break down the wall between our shops. I wanna see you all day every day.” You giggled at his proposal, nodding as confetti and glitter rained down on you.

“You will?” He asked, his pink cheeks making you smile.

“Of course I will!” And he kissed you again. His plan was falling perfectly into place.

——

8 months later

“Baby should we paint the walls grey or what?” You asked, looking at the swatches from the contractor. Raul popped his head in from around the corner and you giggled. “Maybe a nice grey. That way it’s still pretty for your cupcakes and still fits my coffee shop.” You nodded, picking out a neutral grey color and sending it to Ricky.

The painting was the last thing to do before you could reopen your shop, and you were so excited you couldn’t handle it. You’d been only doing orders, making them from home and you’d been itching to get back into your kitchen at the bakery. “Hey honey, I was thinking we could use these little metal chairs, since they are white it could mesh well.”

You looked over at his laptop at the new stuff for the floor, smiling at the cute little chairs and pressing your lips to his bicep against the healed tattoo. “You know. I think we’ve done enough for today. Why don’t we go back to the house and relax.” As you spoke, you kissed along his shoulder, your fingers slipping under his shirt and running over his abs. He couldn’t have moved fast enough, tugging you along behind him to the car and speeding the already short drive to the house.

Laying there, tangled up in the sheets, Raul drew little patterns on your back with the pads on his fingers. You swore you felt him write “marry me” across your shoulders, but thought you were imagining things. “You think we can open by the end of this month?” You asked, looking up at his peaceful face.

“We just had sex, and you’re wondering when we can open?” He chucked, running his fingers through your hair.

“I guess that isn’t the best pillow talk.” You yawned, nuzzling into his neck. You could lay there with him forever, nuzzled against his warm skin and breathing in that smell that you could only describe as Raul.

You laid in silence for a few minutes. “Baby, do you ever think about our future?” He finally spoke, but you were already sleeping peacefully on his chest. Your even breathing fanning across his bare chest slowly pulling him into dreamland with you.

——-

The shop was finally ready, all the chairs and tables set up, your display case clean and ready for you to fill it in the morning before the grand opening. Raul was wiping down the cappuccino machine as you went around making sure all the artwork on the walls were hanging straight and the flowers you'd placed accordingly were still perfect.

“I think it’s all ready for tomorrow honey. You ready to go home and have dinner? I’ll make that pasta you like in exchange for a shoulder massage.” He propositioned, throwing the towel over his shoulder and running a hand through his curls.

“I think that’s a fair deal.” You smiled, looking over at him. Sweaty and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was a sight to be seen.

He nodded, tossing you the car keys. “Go start the car and I’ll lock up okay?” You smiled, tightening your ponytail and walking off to the parking lot out back to cool off the car.

Raul stayed back, making sure everything was perfect for tomorrow. It was a big day. Even bigger than you were ready for, and he’d be damned if anything went wrong.

——

When Raul came back from the gym, you were just waking up, his button down open and hanging off your body as you brushed your teeth. “Raul, darling you’re staring.” You laughed, rinsing out your mouth and starting the shower. “You gonna join me or am I gonna have to be in there all alone on this wonderful morning?” It was a wonderful morning indeed.

He was quick to strip out of his gym clothes, sliding in behind you under the stream of water. His hands instantly grabbing the shampoo bottle and squeezing it into his palm. You closed your eyes as he massaged the gel into your scalp, your arms wrapped around his waist and cheek pressed against his chest.

It was such an intimate moment and you wished it would never end, while he was praying for it to be over, so he could do what he’s been wanting to do since day one.

Now clean and dressed in a nice black dress, you were curling your hair. Raul stood behind you, watching you with so much love and adoration in his eyes you wanted to cry. “Haven’t you been told it's rude to stare, Mendes.” The way his last name slipped off your tongue so effortlessly, he almost dropped to his knees right there.

“Honey we’ve got to go, you look perfect. We are going to be late to our own opening.” He laughed, placing a large hand on your lower back as you walked out the door.

There were reporters everywhere. Photographers covering the opening of the new merged shop. And of course the boys who would now be working for the both of you. The customers, who were thrilled to see the shops open again and missed the goodies they’ve been missing since it was under renovation were all buzzing with excitement.

The two of you stood in front of the building, Raul had one hand in his pocket and you figured it was his nerves. But as the cameras started flashing and you both held a scissor handle, he let go. Dropping to his knee and pulling his hand out of his pocket finally, he spoke. Words shakey as he tried to keep himself together.

“When you opened up next to me a year ago, I never thought we’d become what we are. And now here we are, and as we join our two babies together. Why not join our lives as well. What do you say?” The tears were freely falling down your face as you nodded. Pulling him up to give him a kiss you sobbed out a “yes!” And the crowds of people cheered.

“Now that the hard part is over! Welcome to Coffee Cake cafe and bakery!” Raul cheered, slipping the ring on your finger and pulling you in for another kiss

—-

Somehow you managed to pull through the day. Many congratulations being thrown at the two of you when a familiar face walked in. It was Archie, your waiter from the night you went to dinner for your anniversary. “Hey guys! I just heard. I’m so excited for you guys!” He beamed, dropping a takeout bag on the counter before ordering a coffee and a blueberry muffin.

“This one is on us Achie.” You smiled, looking into the bag and seeing another brownie, this time with the words “congratulations” in chocolate. He waved a goodbye before leaving and you got back to work, But all day you wanted to be with Raul. Your fiancé.

You don’t know how he pulled it off, but he did it. The excitement radiated off of you in waves at the thought of spending the rest of your life with this man. And you couldn’t wait to see what else the world had in store for the two of you. “I love you sugar.” He whispered in your ear, kissing your neck now that the traffic had stopped and the shop was empty, seeing as it was almost closing time.

“I love you too Mendes.” Your smile was evident in your voice.

You felt him smile against your skin. “That’s gonna be your name soon.” His lips trailing down your neck as you gasped

“Hurry and close up baby. I wanna show you just how much I love you.” You mumbled, grabbing his hand and feeling his fingers brush your ring. And you swore you’d never seen him happier. Or move that fast.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes au #shawn peter raul mendes #raul mendes #shawn au #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn writing #raul mendes writing #coffee cake #my fic

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ghoulfriendfam · 4 years

Text

Shane Madej X Reader

College Bookshop AU!!

Summary: You are in college and for the past eight months you have been wrapped up reading books from a mysterious recommender that is only identified as “S” in your look bookstore. You have been trying to piece together who “S” is for month to no avail- but when you meet a handsome and helpful sales clerk you think you might have found your man!

Part 1 of 5 ; Part 2 (I will link the updates as they come out!)

You woke up at the sound of your alarm. It was six am- which wasn’t any cause for excitement- but it was also Friday. Fridays were the best days. Fridays were when a new book would appear on that certain aisle, beyond the landing of the second floor of Calypso’s Bookstore, cradled within the wire holder that said “Recommendations ~ S” in chalk letters.

“S” you always had liked how that letter was turned, not quite cursive but not quite print either. It was crookedly curved and yet- yet at the same time it was perfect.

Imaginative? Artsy? Creative?

It was crazy how easy it was to attach a personality to that “S”- to someone you didn’t even know. You see Calypso’s was a busy place- a community- filled with university professors, students, employees and hipsters. “S” could be anyone of them and you had reluctantly given up long ago trying to seriously figure out who it was. You could ask- that’s true- but then what if they weren’t who you expected- what if it somehow it got awkward and things turned wrong- what would you even say if you met them:

“I noticed that you were having a crisis back in September?”

Because you had noticed. They usually liked the classics- history too- and every now and again a few excellent thrillers. But in the middle of September the flow changed to “The Myth of Sisyphus,” “On Death and Dying,” and “Notes from the Underground.” No one reads those back to back by choice. Unless, of course, the choice is made for you by some existential panic...

Maybe you were reading too much into it. But there was something fantastic about trying to piece together who they were and what was going on with them. It was like a secret conversation- a private and personal aside with a stranger. And that didn’t just happen every day- well- except on Fridays.

Breakfast that morning was quickly hurried through, as even though the shop didn’t open till ten, you were impatient. Grabbing a stack of your class notes, you shoved them in your bag and wrapped up your in coat and picked up your umbrella. It was nearly summer- but the clouds were still going to have their final say before vacating for the hot month.

The rain was warm and steady as you walked down the campus side street past the Arts buildings and into the coffee shop that was across the street from Calypso’s. As you drank your favorite drink and half read through your assignments, every so often you’d glance through the foggy window of the shop, letting your eyes drift across the street. You could feel yourself hoping- hoping almost beyond your own acknowledgement- to spy movement on the second floor- like a child peeping down the stairs on Christmas Eve. But no movement was seen, to your expected but still irksome disappointment.

Returning, more earnestly to your work, the hours ticked by and soon it was 10:30. Quickly, you packed up your things and waved goodbye to your favorite Barista. In a half-skip half-jog you splashed through the rain and bounded up the curb to the bookstore. Pushing through the weathered door, the bell rang above you, a nice and familiar sound.

Inside the store was already bustling with the regulars- who were already taking up their common haunts. While you were an avid patron, you couldn’t beat the dedication of some of them. The romantic lit professors practically ran their office out of Calypso's and could, without fail, always be found nesting in leather armchairs with stacks of papers and red pens by their side. Near them were the groupie grad students, mimicking every word the professors said and eagerly shuttling coffee back and forth across the street. They were all on the first floor today- as always.

You shuffled your way by them and around the displays of best sellers towards the back, passing the Wiccan Craft Club- they gathered here every Friday too. Today it was Sigil cross stitching. Spooky- but fun. One day you had the notion to join them and see what it was all about. Maybe they could help you find who “S” was you mused.

Taking the steps two at a time, you wound your way up the spiral staircase to the second floor. The worn rugs that lined the upper aisles softly gave way under your steps, as you followed the familiar path. Your eyes lit up.

“The Spy Who Came in from the Cold”

Well, that was an interesting selection. They usually didn’t pick espionage books. Excited, you picked up the book and began reading the summary- even though you knew you were going to buy it anyway. A wry smile formed on your face. It was about East Germany. Two months ago “S” had recommended a nonfiction book “Anatomy of a Dictatorship” that was all about the Soviets involvement in East Germany. You could put some of the pieces together.

Tucking a copy under your arm, you went back downstairs to the checkout. It was 10 till 11:00 and your lecture began at 11:20, so you couldn’t really linger any longer. Placing the book on the counter, you began to shuffle distractedly through your bag for your money.

“Great choice,” Hummed an unfamiliar voice.

Your attention quickly redirected to the register. Leaning over the counter, happily scanning the book, was an unusually tall and lanky guy with bright eyes that shone right through you. You had never seen him before, and you were sure of that because you would have remembered it. As he moved his long unruly swirls of chestnut hair made a bob and you could feel your ears turn red.

“Have you read it?” You managed to say, your mouth suddenly dry.

“Yes, actually, I have read that one- and I venture to think that you’ll enjoy it too,”

He smiled. His face was by no external metric perfect- but it had wonderful sort of charm- a charm that was making your brain go all fuzzy.

“Y’know,” He mused putting the book in a bag, “It is surprisingly hard to actually read when you work in a bookstore.”

“Too many choices?” You laughed- a nervous god awful laugh- but he didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s the agony of my existence!” He exclaimed with comedic air, “Sometimes- y’know- I’d rather walk into the sea then make a decision.”

You giggled, pressing your hand up to your mouth to stop it from running away from yourself.

“That’ll be 13.95,”

“Oh!” You jumped, forgetting that there was an actual transaction going on, and swiped your card. In between the digits of your pin you stole several glances upwards at his name tag.

“Shane,”

Your ears got redder with the realization- Shane! Was “S” for Shane? The anxiety of being around such a cute guy soared- neigh skyrocketed- in an instant.

Taking the bag from him you blurted out a shaky: “Thank-you”

“Don’t mention it-” He beamed, “Come back soon!”

You nodded. There needn’t be any worry. You would be back- and on more days than usual. Ripping your eyes away from him, walked out of the store and into the rain. Putting your umbrella up, you began to walk slowly towards your lecture hall- and for once you were thankful that it was on the other side of campus. The long walk there would give you time to cool off from whatever had just happened.

He might not even be “S” you told yourself. So what- he had read the book- he works in a bookstore- of course he is well read- of course he reads things. On top of that, you had never seen him before today and you had been reading the recommends for almost eight months now. In all likelyhood it wasn’t “S” and to think so was just wishful dreams… dreams…

A smile formed on your mouth. Even if he wasn’t “S” he was still something- you could feel it- definitely- definitely something. As you rounded the sidewalk and strolled up the library lawn, “Come back soon” replayed in your mind and you knew that you wouldn’t hear a word of the lecture. And you didn’t.

#shane madej #buzzfeed unsolved #shane x reader #BFU #BFU x reader #reader insert #bfu fanfic #bfu au #shane bfu #shane madej x reader #buzzfeed unsolved x reader #buzzfeed unsolved fanfiction #bfu fanfiction

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bamiiib · 3 years

Text

Ethereal | Jung Jaehyun

Masterlist

Sorrow and uncertainty become your only source of reassurance, everything is different, and yet he continues to move forward, only to a direction that you fear for. What has now become of your once beautiful romance?

Words: 5.8K

Category: Modern!AU, Angst, Fluff

Song Rec: A Soulmate Who Wasn’t Meant to Be — Jess Benko

Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of alcohol & addiction, Mentions of slight depression, toxic relationships

A/N: OMG! Is it true? YES, I’M ALIVE! I’m not sure if y’all are interested in what has been going on, but I want to bring this back, and finish it! Stay tuned for updates, I’ll try my best to keep them as consistent as I can, and I promise I’ll be posting sneak peeks of future chapters as well. Thanks for continuing to support me for those who have been reading this since the beginning. Anyways, happy reading! —Bambi

You woke up to the rays of sun beating down your eyes. With a groan, you rubbed your eyes until they fluttered open. You stretched, a tiny whimper escaping your lips as you stared at the ceiling. Your arms flopped to your side, you thought back to everything that happened last night. How Taeyong had almost kissed you—how you almost let him. You shut your eyes in regret and guilt. You could only see the chubby boy that he used to be when you thought back to high school.

The boy who was new to your class, and how no one wanted to talk to him, and how you looked at him with a smile when he dropped his books one day and introduced yourself. Since then, to you, Taeyong had only become another familiar face in the hallways who you’d say hi to once in a while. You never thought he’d be interested in you, let alone be his highschool crush that he never got over. You sighed, wondering if things would truly be different if you weren’t so afraid of love back then. But then you remember back to the flood of memories that rushed through you in that moment when Taeyong stood inches away from your lips.

Jaehyun.

No matter what happened, no matter what you did or thought about in the past, he always came to mind. He became a part of you, and you hadn’t realized until now. He helped you with your fears, made you see that love wasn’t going to hurt you. Jaehyun made you believe that love was a beautiful thing, and that despite everything that’s been happening, you were convinced that somewhere in the person he’s becoming now, the same man you know and love is still there.

You opened your eyes when your apartment was filled in silence. You couldn’t hear his soft snores, or his gentle breathing. You turned around, sleepiness still entrapped in your eyes, it made your vision blurry for only a second when you saw the empty spot next to you, where the sheets felt cold between your fingertips. Your heart instantly ached, wondering where he could’ve gone. Jaehyun had always stayed in bed until you woke up. He’d always be there to give you a kiss and whisper a gentle, “Good morning.”

But to your surprise, there was nothing. A sigh. You got up, out of bed to change into simple jeans and a graphic tee. You made your bed and walked towards the kitchen, still hoping in the back of your mind that you’ll find Jaehyun.

He’ll be in the kitchen, making surprise pancakes like he did once for your birthday with a bouquet of flowers resting on the table. He always was someone who likes surprises. You could feel your heartbeat rise to your throat, anticipation and desperate hope filled you. Your heart dropped when you saw nothing more but the furniture, and your paintings peeping through from the window that led to the balcony. Another sigh. Maybe he went somewhere. He probably just went to the grocery shop to buy more food to fill the fridge.

Or buy more liquor so he can lose himself like he does every night.

Maybe he went to go buy you more paint.

Or went with his band that replaced you with ease.

He wouldn’t leave without telling you. He never did. No matter where he went, Jaehyun had always let you know where he’d go, and give you a kiss or text you a heartwarming message if he had already left. Maybe he did, and you were probably too focused on other things instead. You rush towards your bedroom where your phone lies on your nightstand, you turn it on, praying desperately for there to be a text, to see his contact glowing on your phone screen.

Nothing.

Your chest felt heavy. You couldn’t breathe without panting. Your lips curled in a tight line. You gulped down the knot in your throat, you looked around, unsure of what exactly you were even looking for. You raked your hands through your hair, and with a deep, relaxing breath, you pulled your hair up to a ponytail and walked towards the balcony where you already set up a blank canvas from the last time you finished your last painting.

You sat down, trying to ease your troubled mind, you reached for your acrylic paints, spreading them on the piece of cardboard that rested on your lap. Without thinking twice, you dipped your freshly clean brush in a color you’d pay attention to later. And so you painted, not caring whatever color you got on your canvas, not caring whether it looked appealing or not.

You painted, not because you wanted it to catch a seller’s eye, or because you were bored, you painted because you don’t know what else to do. You painted what you felt. You felt unsure, you felt doubt, rage, sorrow, desperation. You felt like you were drowning, no matter how much you screamed, no matter how violent each brush stroke became the more you added more and more paint, you wanted to be heard. You wanted clarity.

You wanted the ones you loved, back.

You wanted your freedom, because you knew that even if you move houses, or put your head out of the car to taste the fresh air, or kiss the lips that promised you that freedom, you would never get it. You just wanted to taste it all again, but now your lips tasted like nothing more but of bitter venom and alcohol.

You continued to paint, trying to get a taste of that freedom again, but only liquor filled your thoughts. How the scent followed you everywhere, how that green glass bottle would never leave you alone. How it followed you no matter where you went; never with you, but the ones you love.

You were too focused on the violent brush strokes against the canvas to realize the amounts of green you poured onto the cardboard. The amounts of black that splotched every corner and empty space of that canvas, how it decorated your skin, much like the darkness that intertwined in you.

It would never leave.

This grief, sorrow, and pain.

You wanted it to go away.

You tried to run away from it all, you took Jaehyun’s hand, expecting to find adventure and beauty and love, hoping to find everything that he promised, but found an empty bed, and paint on your skin. You didn’t feel the tears that trickled down your cheek, crashing onto your piece of cardboard and into the paint, making your artwork look more like the mess you were feeling. You couldn’t hear the door open when your sobs whispered through your lips, the brushstrokes now stabbing into the canvas, you wanted to scream, you wanted to disappear. You just wanted to forget. You wanted all of your pain, gone.

Taeyong had put you in a tight embrace. Your paintbrush dropped for your fingertips, crashing into the solid concrete of the floor, rolling towards who-knows-where. Your chest tightened, and the tears you became tired of couldn’t stop falling.

“It’s okay! You’re okay! Please, breathe…” Taeyong’s breath was shaky, his hold he had on you trembling. You could feel his heartbeat pressing against your back. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, his eyes shut tight. Everything stood still, and when you felt his breath whisper against your skin that ran cold, you realized you had been holding your breath up until now. The air had never felt so refreshing in his embrace. You brought a hand to hold his, your grip tighter than what you anticipated, you noticed that you began to tremble as well.

“Taeyong… What are you doing here?” You mumbled within sobs. Your head hung low, ashamed to look at him. He shook his head, refusing to talk until your cries subsided. It fell silent, you took a deep breath and wiped away your tears.

“Johnny texted me to tell you that he couldn’t come over, but he wanted me to tell you something about your art.” He sighed, pulling away to look at your face, grabbing your wrists to pull them away as you had your face buried in your hands.

“He wanted me to tell you that he found someone who owns an art gallery, and that they really want your artwork to be displayed there, along with buying some of your pieces for a good price. Your dream is coming true..” His voice was gentle and patient. A smile tugged the corner of his lips, Taeyong let out a breathy laugh. You didn’t want to believe your ears, your heart raced, and suddenly everything you were thinking of in the past had immediately come to a blank. You were processing everything that had just happened in the span of a couple of seconds, and once it had finally hit, once those words echoed in your ears, your tears came back again.

“Someone actually wants my artwork in an art gallery? Holy shit… holy shit!” You couldn’t believe it, it all felt like a surreal dream. One moment you were crying, stained in green and black paint, staring at the bristles now destroyed with your violent strokes onto the canvas that had a couple of scratches here and there. You didn’t hesitate another second as you pulled Taeyong into a tight embrace, laughter echoing in the balcony, you heard him grunt a little in surprise before his laughter mixed with yours, hugging you just as tight.

“W-Wait so when is it?” You pulled away to ask, a wide, dorkish smile etched onto your lips. Taeyong looked into the distance in thought, his brows furrowing.

“This Saturday. I’ll text you their contact information so you can confirm and plan everything out!”

“W-Will you come?” You asked, mostly out of pure excitement, but you saw the adoration that burned in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He said as he grabbed a strand of your hair and tucked it behind your ear. You dismissed the action, and pulled him into another hug, tears now filled with joy that wouldn’t stop falling.

“Thank you so much… thank you, thank you.” You repeated, and the weight that pushed down on your chest had seemed to have gone away.

But only for that very short moment.

“Hey, um… we need to talk—” Jaehyun’s voice resonated throughout the apartment walls, his hand that scratched the back of his neck fell to his side, his gaze locked on you and Taeyong.

You knew what pain looked like. It was in your paintings, in the liquor that stained the breath of your father, and when you turned to Jaehyun, you found pain in his eyes.

“What the hell…” He whispered. His jaw tightened, everything had been moving too fast. Taeyong got up from where he knelt down in front of you, his hands up in defense, Jaehyun was walking towards the two of you in silence. You stood up from your seat, you found yourself between the two; Jaehyun gripped tight onto the collar of Taeyong’s shirt, pulling him inside the apartment and slammed him into the wall right next to the balcony door.

“You have five seconds to explain why the fuck you were holding her like that before I beat the absolute shit out of you.” His voice was low, something dark and sinister laced his sentence. Your heart dropped. Rushing towards the two, you shook your head, opening your mouth to talk—but nothing. Instead, you placed a hand on Jaehyun’s arm that held Taeyong, shaking him to bring him back into reality.

“Jaehyun, stop…” You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to yell, but your voice had come out so tiny when you spoke. You’ve never felt so small until now, when he looked at you and you remembered back to the first night he had gotten drunk. That empty, dullness that filled his once beautiful eyes. Your breathing turned heavy, your eyes still glossed in tears. His face softened when he noticed the puffiness in your eyes. Though it returned once more when he glared over at Taeyong.

“You made her cry? What the fuck is your problem!” His voice roared through the apartment. You turned to look at Taeyong, whose face remained neutral until he said those very words. The same anger, the same deadly spark flashed through his eyes. His brows wrinkled in frustration, a dry laugh seeping through his lips, you watched his Adam's apple bop, holding onto Jaehyun’s wrist.

“I made her cry? No, none of this is my fault. She’s crying because of you! I was here to comfort her, when you clearly failed to do so because you’re that much of a piece of absolute shi—!” Taeyong’s shouting was cut off by the loud crack that resonated through your ears. You watched him fall to the ground with a grunt, a hand cupping his mouth, he slowly moved to see the blood that littered his palm.

“Fuck you…” Jaehyun whispered. You shook your head, the tears threatening to come back again when he lunged at Taeyong. The two didn’t stop. They punched, slapped, and kicked each other. Cursing at each other; it tore your heart into pieces. Your feet felt rooted to the floor, your stomach twisting in knots, your mouth that ran dry. Your tears felt never ending, and time felt still. Each blow they took, each punch they threw, you could feel your heart pounding violently against your ribs.

“Stop it…” You whispered, shutting your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see anymore. You shut them tight until you saw stars. Their shouts still filled the room.

“Stop it.” You whimpered, your jaw clenched, your hands balled into tight fists until you could feel your nails digging deep into your skin, the warmth of your blood being your only reminder of the reality of everything that was happening.

They didn’t stop. Jaehyun’s screams had overpowered Taeyong’s. His cursing turned to incoherent screaming. Pure anger roared, his throat raw; when you opened your eyes, you watched him tremble as he threw Taeyong down, punching him over, over, and over. It was when you saw Taeyong’s doe eyes become dull, and the blood seeping through his nose and lips, when you looked down at your bleeding palms, you had enough.

“STOP IT!” You threw yourself over to Jaehyun, grabbing his arm that he lifted, his knuckles already blooming bruises, you shouted over and over until saliva dripped from the corner of your lips. He didn’t stop. He wasn’t going to. You turned to meet his eyes, and saw that the man you loved, wasn’t even there. Instead, you saw nothing more, but a monster.

A loud thud, and then silence. Your palms slammed against the tile floor, bracing yourself when Jaehyun flung you down. You barely managed to dodge the impact, your head touching the cool floor. Your breath shaky and deep, you stared at the blurred reflection of yourself, then turned to look at your hands, moving around the tile to see the red that smeared against it.

“I-I…” Jaehyun started, removing himself from Taeyong. Both of them had their eyes glued to you, as if everything that just happened had meant nothing when it had come to seeing you injured.

“Are you okay?” Taeyong asked, sitting up with a pain-filled groan, he reached towards you until Jaehyun pushed his chest.

“You don’t have a right to ask if she’s okay, look what you fucking did.”

“I’m not the one who pushed her, you asshole! Sorry I actually care for her!”

“You talk like you’re so madly in love with her!”

“So what if I am?”

“You just don’t know when to fucking quit you—”

“Enough!” It took your shouts to finally shut them up. They turned to look at you, your name whispering from their lips like a gentle song. The pity that filled their eyes. The guilt that filled Jaehyun’s. You pushed yourself off the floor, standing up with your chin held high, desperately holding onto the crumbling dignity you had left. They followed after you. Taeyong’s nose was bloody, and Jaehyun’s lip was split. The bruises were already forming on the two of them, you looked the other way so you wouldn’t have to deal with the sight before you.

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” You started, voice laced in darkness, sorrow, and pity. You wiped away the tears with a shaky hand, your blood smudging against your cheek. “You two used to be best friends… and now look at you! You’re fighting! And all for what? Me?” Your voice crescendoed into a shout. They averted their eyes away from you like two children who were being scolded. But you knew it was much deeper than that.

“I don’t have to explain anything to the two of you. I want you out… Get out of here.” You curled your lips in a line, you couldn’t stop shaking. You shut your eyes, wondering when the hell were your tears that you were so sick of would stop. Jaehyun whispered your name, as did Taeyong. Jaehyun had reached a hand towards you, and you flinched when he did. He frowned, reverting his hand away, you watched guilt gloss over his eyes you once found beautiful and sincere.

Taeyong had called your name once more, and just hearing it alone set your heart to ache, unprepared for what he had the strength to say. “Please, you’re making a mistake… just pick me. I-I was a coward to let go of you then, but I won’t let go of you now.” He was desperate. You knew, as you could hear it with each syllable that rolled off his tongue. Jaehyun watched, and the anger that rose all over again.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me…” He whispered your name, reaching towards you again, he managed to get a hold of your hand. The gentleness he held with his hold, it was like the old Jaehyun was looking at you again. You were ashamed to admit that if it weren’t for the bruises that bloomed on his knuckles and face, and Taeyong standing right next to him, you knew you’d pick him in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, no matter how much you wish that could happen, you faced the truth that appeared to you now.

“I’m sorry…” That was all that Jaehyun could say. You knew that even he didn’t know what he was apologizing for. Maybe he was only sorry for when something affected you physically, and you remember back to the painting, to the splotches of black and green of the paint that dried on your skin; Jaehyun had not noticed, not even once, that you were hurting deeper inside. You couldn’t believe it. They were making you choose.

“No. No, I can’t believe you guys. You can’t expect me to choose… because if you do, then I choose neither.” Silence again, they looked at you with pleading eyes, and that was enough for you to say with a trembling voice, “I don’t want to talk to either of you. I want you out. Go! Get out!” Your voice cracked as you shouted. They flinched at your sudden change of tone, the pain that mixed in the sorrow of your sentence. Taeyong was the first to leave.

Your breathing hitched, your vision blurred with tears. Jaehyun looked at you, his brows furrowed in sorrow, he opened his mouth, whispering your name with a broken heart. You held up your hand between the two of you to stop him from going on further.

“Don’t,” Your voice lulled back into a whisper, “just go.” You crossed your arms over your chest, hugging yourself tight when you heard him sigh in defeat.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered. You couldn’t stand the sight of seeing him walk away, so you faced the other way, listening to his footsteps, you cupped your hand against your mouth to muffle your sobs when he passed by your shoulder, and the door shut.

That night, you couldn’t fall asleep. You decided to stay at Johnny’s, sending a text to Jaehyun that he can have the apartment until you were ready to face him again. Johnny showed you your room, and stayed with you that night, listening to you when you poured your heart out. You told him about the darkness that followed you, about Jaehyun’s drinking, and Taeyong’s confession; how you almost kissed him, the fight, and the depression that never left you since you were a child. It felt like you had fallen into a dark pit. Something you couldn’t get out of, no matter how hard you tried, or how desperate you were to find light in the end of the tunnel. Johnny could only listen with a heavy heart, he frowned.

“So what are you going to do?” He asked, pulling you into a side hug. You sighed, shaking your head, your lip quivered. You just wanted it all to stop.

“I don’t know. I can’t even look at Jaehyun, and Taeyong—I don’t know.” It was all you could say, and all you could do. Each time you thought of either one, your mind was drawn to a blank. You were too ashamed and guilty to look at Taeyong, and too enraged to look at Jaehyun. You didn’t have the courage to confront either one of them. You looked down to your palms, studying the tiny crescent shapes that dug into your skin from your nails.

“What about the art gallery? Have you sent a message to the owner?” You had almost forgotten about that. Your back straightened, you wiped away your tear stained cheeks, and with a deep exhale, you looked over at Johnny and nodded.

“I’m still doing it.” You said with a strong nod. You couldn’t back down from an opportunity like this. Finally, your art was going to be shown, your voice would be heard, and despite the art you held dearest now being your only fondest memories of a man you onced loved, you couldn’t wait to show the world the story that had once been of you and Jaehyun. Johnny smiled, he pulled you for a full embrace, rubbing your back reassuringly.

“That’s my girl.” He muttered, and your brows raised. A smile. You held tight onto his shirt, burying your face in his chest, you could finally breathe. You finally felt at peace.

“Johnny, I can’t thank you enough… for everything. I’m sorry I pulled you into this mess, but you’ve always been there for me. You’re an amazing friend… I love you.” You whispered, sniffling.

“I love you too booger. There isn’t a single thing in the world that I wouldn’t do for you.” He let out a breathless laugh, holding you tight. Johnny had never left your side. Despite your unloving mother, your father who gave up everything for liquor, to the love of your life now succumbing to the same fate. Johnny has never left, and he’s never changed. Maybe there was some light, and maybe there was an exit to this void.

Ten knocked on the door, leaning against the doorway, he crossed his arms over his chest. “You guys are too mushy for me. C’mon, I made some popcorn for the movie night.” Johnny turned, smiling instantly as he let go of you to run towards his husband’s side. He pressed a kiss against his cheek, where Ten chuckled, pushing him away.

“That doesn’t mean for you to get mushy with me you freak, let’s go.” He snickered, rolling his eyes and looked towards you. Your lips curled to a smile, and his expression reflected yours.

“We’ll be downstairs. Take your time, okay?” Ten nodded his head towards you, as if to tell you, ‘Everything is going to be okay.’ Surely at this moment, you appreciated the reassurance, even though you knew that things weren’t okay. You’d like to believe that they would be. After having a moment of silence to yourself, you took a deep breath, recollecting yourself, and with your chin held up high, you mustered up enough courage and strength in you as you got up, and walked down the stairs. That night was the most you had ever been at peace in what felt like forever.

The week dragged on. Each day felt endless, each minute had felt like an hour. You were counting down the days of your gallery walk. You contacted the owner who was also the buyer, and he managed to explain everything down for you. It was to be a formal event, so you had to dress your best, and only one person could accompany you to the party that was to happen after.

Well, it was more of a small social gathering than a party. Either way, Johnny had convinced you to go since he believed it’d be another great opportunity to get your name out there.

Originally, when Taeyong had first told you about the show, you were excited to take him; it wasn’t until the fight where you didn’t want anything to do with him after. It felt like weeks since it happened, though it was only five days ago.

You never wanted your Friday night to be spent in Johnny and Ten’s house, lying down on the guest bed late at night where you couldn’t fall asleep. They offered to keep you company, but you kindly refused. Nonetheless, with Johnny being the stubborn best friend you knew and loved, he said he’d stay up in the living room watching movies with your favorite snacks in case you ever changed your mind.

You laid in bed, bags decorating underneath your eyes, you listened to the silence that echoed in your room. The silence that never went away. The silence that accompanied you, and never left unlike everyone else in your life. Much like the darkness that followed after the silence, it clung onto you with a heavy weight. Each breath felt short, your chest tight, it was hard to breathe. You gripped tight onto the silk sheets before you, rubbing your cheek against the softness of your pillow, memories of Jaehyun flashed through your mind.

The night in the car. The day he sang to you. The moment he opened his heart and told you of his dreams. The decision he made when he chose the liquor, over you.

You didn’t realize the tears that crashed beneath the sheets, a puddle forming below. You shuddered in sorrow. When was this going to stop? When would the tears come to an end? You didn’t know anything anymore. You didn’t know about your future. You didn’t know where life was going to take you next, be it if there were ever to be light found in this deep, endless tunnel, or if an empty void followed after.

You brought your knees up to your chest as you laid there, hugging yourself tightly, you never realized how much you had missed Jaehyun’s warmth until now.

A part of you wanted to reach for your phone and text him, talk it out, and try to reach an understanding—but each time you were reaching towards it, you could only see Taeyong’s blood and Jaehyun’s bruised knuckles.

That’s what made everything worse.

You still loved him, nothing was going to change that fact. You loved Jaehyun, but it was because of his actions, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him in the eye. You were angry at him, but more so, you were ashamed of yourself.

You knew what was happening, you knew what you were doing, yet you didn’t stop.

Couldn’t stop.

From the moment Taeyong had almost kissed you, confessed everything to you, things weren’t the same. And you hated that.

“Hey.” Johnny had called your name gently, knocking on the door with delicate strength, enough so that you barely heard it. You wiped away your tears so he wouldn’t see you and question if you were alright for the umpteenth time.

You sat up, rubbing your eyes as if you were asleep, though you knew you’d fail at trying to fool Johnny. You were expecting him to bombard you with questions, to walk up to you and ask if you were feeling. Instead, he sighed and curled his lips to a line before nudging his head towards the hallway.

“Someone wants to talk to you.” He said. Your heart dropped, and the only person you could think of at that moment was Jaehyun.

“I don’t want to see him.” You shut your eyes; your head hung low as you fumbled with your fingers until you looked back up to see Johnny shake his head.

“It’s not Jaehyun. C’mon, he’s waiting for you in the front yard.” Johnny smiled shortly, looking out towards the hallway where Ten walked, pulling Johnny to a side hug, he looked at you and nodded.

“Maybe it’ll be some reassurance.” Ten said, and Johnny nodded his head in agreement. You eyed them both carefully, confused as you got up on your feet and walked past them with furrowed brows. You gulped, adjusting the silk robe that Ten had lent you, deciding it best not to let whoever was at the door see you in your tank top.

Johnny called out your name. You hummed, turning around as he looked at you with a dark glare in his eye. “We’ll be in the living room. If he says something that you don’t like, just call me and I’ll kick him out in a heartbeat.” You knew what he was saying was serious. The sinister, intimidating glint that glimmered in his eyes, you still laughed and nodded.

“Don’t worry John. I’m still a tough nut.” You reassured, bringing your arm up to flex. He laughed and nodded.

“I know you are.” He grinned. You smiled, giving him a quick thumbs up, you took a long, deep exhale as you opened the door to the front yard, and much to your surprise, you weren’t expecting to see Doyoung.

“Hey… how did you know I was here?” You asked when he turned around, his arms crossed over his chest. He raised his brows, his mouth agape before letting out a breathless laugh, scratching the back of his neck in thought.

“Well, Jaehyun kind of filled me in on what happened between you guys, so I figured to come over and clear some things up.” He shrugged his shoulders, hands falling to his sides as he patted his palms against his pants. You watched, only feeling more confused at this point. You nodded your head, but remained silent. You stepped closer towards him, as he decided best to stay a couple of feet away from the house.

“I’m going to be honest with you, I didn’t exactly like you in the beginning. I didn’t know much about you, and to be frank, you seemed fairly comfortable with Taeyong, more than you were with Jaehyun.” He explained, his face hard to read, but you saw something foreign burn in his eyes.

“Excuse me?” You sniggered, at a loss for words. Doyoung’s sweet smile that he flashed at you when you first saw him was long gone. He took a large step towards you with a menacing glare.

“You wanna know why Jaehyun doesn’t bother going home after the gigs? Because he finally sees this as a good opportunity, and wants to get along with the band and meet some fans. And clearly, you’ve been having a problem with that.” He spat the sentence out as if the words itself were filled with venom. You blinked, once, twice. You didn’t know what to say.

“He told me what happened with you and Taeyong. The kiss, the fight—everything, and it’s clear that he doesn’t need someone as horrible and two-faced as you.”

You shook your head, taking a deep breath to control the raging anger that bubbled in the pit of your stomach. Your hands curled into tight fists, your nails finding solace in the familiar crescent shapes that marked your palms.

“Is that all you came here for? To tell me how much of a horrible person I am?” Your lip quivered, jaw clenching, you held in every urge in you not to yell at him, to tell him everything that you’ve been feeling, and suddenly you’re the one being called selfish.

“I came here as his friend, and I’m doing this for his own good. You’re no good for Jaehyun, and it’s best that you stay away and never show your face to him anymore. You’ll be doing everyone a favor.” He walked away towards his car, opening the back door, he held a cardboard box in his hands before dropping it in front of your feet.

“I also came to drop this off. It’s clear enough that he’s too heartbroken to see you in his apartment anymore—and if this doesn’t make it official, then I don’t know what will.”

You looked down to the box, kneeling as you took out the acrylic paints, the tiny piece of cardboard that was covered in greens and blacks. Your fingers lingered on each item, until you saw a canvas turned the other way. With a trembling hand, you reached towards it, turning it around, you saw it was the painting of Jaehyun’s face. Your first painting that made you realize that this was your true passion.

“Have a nice life, because Jaehyun will now—without you.” Your head snapped up to look over at Doyoung. You reached out a hand towards him, but his back was already facing you as he walked into his car with a grimace, and drove off into the streets.

You sighed, sitting down on the gravel, your fingers traced the shapes on the canvas. Caressing the painted skin of Jaehyun’s face, you curled your lips to a line. Your vision had become blurred with tears, you shut your eyes before they could even crash, and held the painting close to your chest, sitting there that night, you whimpered to think that maybe things were over with the two of you. And nothing pained you more than that fatal truth.

Johnny watched you with a pained, sorrowful glance. He sighed as he looked down at your phone in which he held onto, pressing it against his ear as he listened to the voicemail.

“Baby… please. I’m so sorry. I fucked up, I was selfish—please just give me another chance. I’ll quit the band, I’ll stop drinking. Whatever gives me you, I’ll do it. Please… please just call me back.”

Johnny frowned as you looked through each trinket in the box outside. A sigh breathed through his lips, he turned to look at Ten who was standing in the hallway, patiently waiting for his husband to return to bed with him.

He smiled, turning back over to the phone; his smile faltered, Johnny had deleted the voicemail.

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atinytokki · 3 years

Text

Dreamer

ii. Mermaid Song

(Just a reminder that several of Jongho’s thoughts about blame and ways of coping in this work are not healthy!!)

Jongho hated thunderstorms. Where he lived, they were common, occurring several times per week. Ever since he was small, the flash of lightning that invaded his bedroom and the following loud thunderclap that shook the house sent him diving under the blankets with his heart pounding.

But the worst part of the thunderstorm was the fact that it forced Jongho to stay inside.

He had made a horrible mistake neglecting to buy rice yesterday, and compounded with the negative mood of the soldiers’ unexpected visit, the guilt of the incident weighed heavily on him from the moment he awoke.

It was a dreamless sleep— at least if he had dreamed, he didn’t remember it. Feeling unsettled in his stomach, he lay under the blankets for a few minutes just listening to the rain hit the roof tiles and trying to go back to sleep.

The sounds of Father moving around in the kitchen reached his ears and he stayed put until he surmised breakfast was made and finished and Father had moved into the smithy to begin the day’s work.

It had been too much to hope that there would be food waiting for him, though sometimes Father did so after a punishment in a gesture of apology. Today, he must be busy making new weapons, possibly to gain the favour of the Navy this time.

Jongho simply toasted some bread and took it back with him to his bedroom, huddled under the blankets where the thunder could not touch him.

He finished his schoolwork as quickly as he could, plowing on even through the subjects that didn’t come as easily to him so that he could flip through his book of sheet music and try to decipher it.

The book was a secret purchase, one he had lied to Father about, saying it was required for school and managing to get away with it. Lessons or an instrument to put the music to use could not be so easily obtained, however, so Jongho settled for turning through the pages and doing his best to follow along, putting names to symbols and tunes to words.

“A Mermaid’s Song,” he read in a whisper when he turned to the next page for him to scan. There was a short note above the staff that he read as well, curious that an origin story should appear where usually there were only performance instructions. “Sung to me by an old pirate, long ago taken by the sea.”

Excited at the prospect of discovering what to him was nothing short of treasure, Jongho quickly went about discerning the proper key and rhythm for the song before picking out the notes from their intervals and stringing them together one by one.

He was interrupted halfway through by the sound of the front door opening and Father entering the kitchen, and hurried to stow his music away underneath his mattress and check the time.

Somehow it was noon already, midday’s light hidden behind storm clouds, and there was still no rice for lunch. Wincing at the irritated huffs he could hear from his father, Jongho went to peek out his bedroom door at the sight of him trying to throw together a meal.

He stumbled dizzily over himself and had the bottle in his hand, so Jongho swallowed thickly, hoping he hadn’t been seen, gently closing the door and pulling on his shoes.

It was still pouring rain, but it didn’t matter. Jongho couldn’t stand waiting around at home with an angry father while it was his fault there would be no food on the table.

He would just have to go out and buy the rice anyway.

Careful to remain quiet, he unlatched his window and escaped through it, shivering the moment a particularly cold stream of water ran down his back from the eaves of the house. He was a fast runner, and the market wasn’t far. He may even be back before Father finished cooking.

It would have been preferable to bring a coat with him, but instead Jongho tried to run along the cliff face, hoping some overhanging rock would shield him from the bulk of the rain.

Under the tents in town he received some respite, and, shivering, counted out his coins to pay the rice merchant with and prepared to haul the stuffed bags home with no wagon and without letting them be soaked.

“Do you think it will let up soon?” He asked the seller with a small grain of hope.

The man shook his head and pulled his own cloak closer. “My bones tell me it’ll rain all day and most of the next.”

Frowning, Jongho shouldered the bag and sprinted back out into the storm. To make up for the rice weighing him down, he picked up the pace and ran faster, a decision he regretted as soon as his foot caught on a loose rock and he came crashing down face first.

Scrubbing away pained tears, he grit his teeth and rose to his feet again, thankful that the bag had not leaked and returning to the path in the hopes of arriving soon.

He had made a decision and he’d have to live with it. There was no sneaking in through the back this time, front door thrown open and rice bag deposited in the kitchen.

Father was sitting at the table and scowled when he saw his son soaking wet and dripping rain in the entryway, but his expression eased as he took notice of what had been brought.

Wordlessly, he rose to open the bag and cook some of the rice, adding it to the meat he’d already grilled while his son was out and Jongho waited patiently for the verdict.

Father may not be speaking to him at the moment, but he would address him soon, Jongho could tell.

When Father sat himself down with a steaming bowl and finished the long awaited first bite, he finally looked up at his son, still dripping in the doorway.

“Thank you,” he said simply, and Jongho’s eyes filled with happy tears.

Hurriedly he blinked them away and bowed his head respectfully before returning to his room to look for a towel.

There weren’t any clean ones. The housekeeping lady was still visiting the archipelago until next week.

Feeling the afternoon lull take him over with a sudden warmth, Jongho dropped his soaking clothes in a pile on the floor and wrapped himself in blankets instead, holding his eyes open as long as he could but inevitably drifting into sleep as his shivers subsided.

It was nearly nightfall when he awoke from what felt like a very well earned rest. Hungry and craving some attention, Jongho dressed in dry clothes and ventured into the main room to see a sight that spiked his sleep-addled brain into full awareness.

Father was sitting at the table with a scowl again, the bottle in his hand. An empty bottle.

It was too late to reconsider, so Jongho crept forward until those darkening eyes landed on him and narrowed.

“Where have you been all afternoon?” Father snapped, motioning to a bowl of stew that sat, uneaten, on the other end of the table. “I rang the bell for supper and you did not come. Is this how you treat your Father?”

Jongho’s mouth fell open as he glanced at the bowl, and he didn’t know what to say in his defence.

He had made him supper. Father hadn’t done that in months.

“I was… asleep…”

Father scoffed.

“Asleep? I thought to be merciful and show you forgiveness but here you are dragging your feet when you should be thanking me.”

“I’m sorry,” Jongho began to apologise. “I don’t mind eating it cold, I truly am thankful—”

“No,” Father snapped, getting to his feet and snatching up the bowl only to dump it out the window, washed away in the rain. “You missed your chance. To bed without supper, and I’ll see to it you don’t sneak out.”

Father grabbed him by the arm, a sharp pressure in his skin from where he dug in his nails, and marched him back to his bedroom, locking the window and then the door behind him.

Jongho sat, stunned for a moment before falling back on his bed.

He couldn’t believe he had let such an opportunity pass him by.

It was Father’s way of showing him kindness by making him food and waiting for him to claim it, and Jongho had slept through the bell, an ungrateful child.

There was nothing to do now except wait until morning and pray for a second chance.

Jongho had a small stash of oatcakes in a bag in his top drawer saved up for emergencies, and when he’d remained still for an hour and deemed it safe, he tiptoed to the dresser and pulled them out, eating silently.

It wasn’t the first instance of being banished to his bedroom, but the first time in awhile.

Once, Father had been tired of looking at him and locked Jongho in the smithy for an entire day with nothing to eat. He had to be grateful that wasn’t the case this time, and nor was a beating and chores.

Instead, he looked around his room and brushed the crumbs away, settling in to sleep so that at least he could forget his shame.

Sometimes the room was a refuge, sometimes it was a prison. He did not cry. This was his life, after all.

Jongho awoke the next morning sniffling and with a pesky sneeze that wouldn’t go away.

Just as the man in the market said, it was raining still— though less than yesterday— and Jongho had contracted a cold as a result of running around in it.

It was a slow morning again once he arose, and Father had been in the smithy an hour at least before Jongho emerged to make himself breakfast.

Careful to check frequently for Father, he continued poking through his sheet music for the rest of the morning, too wrapped up in the mermaid song to put it aside for school.

“Come beyond the silver flash,” he read aloud in a whisper. “Fear not the grave and sunken deep. Over tide and ocean splash, dream my song and love to keep.”

It gave him chills to sing it quietly with only the silent house and the rain as witness. The song was starting to sound as it was intended, a haunting melody to lure sailors to their deaths.

The sound of the back door sent Jongho scrambling to hide the sheet music in his room, and when the coast was clear to return to the table, he saw Father had left a note for him.

“Buy bread and vegetables,” Jongho read in a pout, trying not to sigh too loudly and pocketing the money that was left alongside the message. So it was another trip to the market.

At least the rain had let up, though cloudy skies remained.

Old woman Soomi happened to be at the bakery when Jongho was, and he greeted her politely with thanks for the recipe she had offered the other day.

“My pleasure, boy,” she smiled at him gently before glancing up at the overcast sky. “Hope all this rain doesn’t force the athletic tournament to be postponed.”

“Athletic tournament?” Jongho perked up at that, mind straying to those runners he’d seen on the beach the other day. They had appeared to be running just for sport, but the thought that it had been a training exercise for an even more exciting event was a pleasing one.

“Yes, the whole town will be turning up for it,” Soomi chuckled at his excitement. “Except you and your busy father. Always holed up in the smithy, you boys.”

“Right,” Jongho remembered, biting his lip as he considered his options. Father would never let him go, it would be better to give up the idea now before he dwelt on it too much. “I suppose I won’t be coming this year.”

“Well, if you’re interested then you should go,” Soomi snorted before bidding him farewell to saunter to another stall. “Life is more than survival, you know.”

Her words stayed with him all the way home.

Perhaps that was what life ought to be, but his life was survival first and foremost. It was an endless cycle of being beaten for being useless, and continuing to be useless because he was being beaten.

Soomi had always been kind to him, ever since she found him wandering in the market, a mere six year old lost and left behind by his father when he couldn’t keep up on the walk home by the cliffs. She’d pointed him in the right direction, that day and ever since.

The confidence to ask Father for permission to participate couldn’t have come from anywhere else.

“You think she pities you for being beaten?” Father said when he finally paused his pumping of the bellows. Jongho had done his best to explain that he wanted to go, hiding behind Soomi’s recommendation in the hopes that Father wouldn’t deny them both, but didn’t know how to respond to such a question.

Father shook his head with a sly smile and continued with his business. He knew Jongho was only inclined to ask at all because he felt supported in that request.

“Old Soomi has lived much longer than you or I, she knows the way of the world. Insolent boys have been punished for generations, Jongho. I was beaten as a delinquent youth and it taught me obedience and discipline. I didn’t wail and look for pity, I took the lesson to heart and became stronger for it. If you’re going to hide behind her skirts, you had better hope she actually wants to defend you.”

It was harsh but true. Even if Soomi knew what Jongho’s life was like at home, there was no certainty she would rescue him, and Jongho had to do everything in his power not to appear in need of rescue.

“Stronger…” Jongho whispered. Father’s speech wasn’t unusual, but the suddenness of it, the way of switching tacks to another conversation, betrayed his fears about something; being judged for beating his son despite how commonplace it was in their day and age.

Jongho had a choice; play it safe and abandon his desire, or use Father’s fear against him, risking greater reward but also greater punishment.

“I do want to be stronger,” Jongho admitted. “I don’t want to be seen as the boy who’s locked in the smithy every day. Let me train and run, not to escape punishment but because I want to be part of this town. I’ll only go after everything else is done.”

Father snorted and put down his sword.

His face was unreadable, just as it almost always was when Jongho was speaking to him of his own volition.

“Very well,” he said after a moment. “Represent the family well, or there will be consequences.”

Not that any of Father’s threats were empty, but this one had much greater impact.

Gulping, Jongho thanked him profusely and went down to the beach to have a run. He had a few hours until supper time and didn’t want to push his luck, even if he was vibrating from the excitement.

There were the cliffs, still a bit slippery from the deluge of days past, but waiting for him to sprint across. He passed his little palm tree and followed the curve of the coast, deviating slightly off the path to run on the beach.

Jongho kept a rhythmic pace with the tune in his head, the mermaid song for some reason instead of one of the many work songs also found in his book.

He slowed down as he reached the very tip of the peninsula, the easternmost point of the mainland, to take a few deep breaths and rest his burning legs. Despite all the lifting of rice bags and dragging of wagons he did back and forth, he didn’t often run as fast and as far as this.

The view was spectacular, and the sound of the wind and waves battering Ulso’s cliffs was striking.

Another sound carried over the ocean to him, and he wondered at first if it was his own voice singing the mermaid song aloud instead of silently like he’d thought he was doing.

The tune was unmistakable and the words could just barely be heard, but Jongho followed along until a cloud crossed the sun and snapped him out of it.

There was no one singing but him, and it was time to turn for home.

___

A/N: What a rollercoaster ride! The chapter took a long time mostly because I took it upon myself to actually write the song for some reason. More spinoff chapters on the way in the near future but let me know what you thought in the meantime, here or on Twitter (@tiny_tokki)

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ladyreapermc · 4 years

Text

Fic: Sympathy for the Devil (John Wick x Reader) 2/4

Summary: Your best friend is getting married and you’re very excited until you find out that your ex is coming to the wedding. After a night of too much drinking and without a date for the big day, you summon a demon to make a deal.

Part 1

Author’s notes: I was gonna wait until Wednesday to post this, but you know what? F*ck it! Let’s be chaotic! Have some more demon!John my good people! I was pleasantely surprised at how many of you responded to this. Thank you for being as interested as Demon!John as my crazy brain and @toomanystoriessolittletime (but she doesn’t really count because we already established we share the same brain! lol Kidding! I love you). So here’s chapter 2 and a brandnew cover! Thank you @themanthemyth-thelegend for lending me your photoshop skills to add the title. Love you lots!

Wordcount: 3470

Warnings: once again mentions of alcohol and nausea and hangovers (but no one throws up, I promise!)

It took you a moment to finally open your eyes after the kiss. You didn’t think anything could feel that good and that might have been the best kiss you had in a long time. Maybe in your entire life. You were almost disappointed that John had broken away because it made you feel a strange sort of loss.

When your mind finally stopped racing enough for you to pay attention to your surroundings again, you noticed John was nowhere to be found and there was no trace of him. No sign he had even been there in the first place. Maybe your inebriated and horny brain did conjure him up after all. Shaking your head, you returned home, setting the jewelry box on your bedside table and crawling under the covers. As you closed your eyes, you were convinced the entire thing had been a weird dream.

The next morning your head was pounding, your stomach churned with every movement and your mouth tasted like something had died inside. You stumbled blindingly into your bathroom, fighting off nausea. The shower made you feel a little more human and awake. The fresh pot of coffee, the stack of pancakes and a bottle of aspirin waiting for you when you got to the kitchen finished off the job.

“Didn’t hear you come in last night,” your mother commented while you shoveled pancake goodness into your mouth.

“Went drinking with the girls,” you replied around a mouth full and your mother grimaced in disgust, making you roll your eyes. It wasn’t like you were doing that in public. It was just you and her, but she always made a big deal about your manners. It wasn’t as bad as in your pageant girl days, but it was still annoying.

Back then your mother would control every aspect of your life and behavior, because being a pageant queen herself, she always dreamt of passing on her legacy to her daughter. You lost count of how many times she told you how she and her dad struggled to conceive for years and had pretty much given up hope when she found she was pregnant of you, their little miracle, and her dream had come true at least.

You kind of enjoyed at first, the whole pageant life. All the tiaras and pretty dresses were fun, but as you grew older, your interest shifted and you always felt like she never had forgiven you completely for not going forward with it, choosing college and police academy instead of state and national pageants.

“I ironed your dress for tonight and hung it in the laundry room,” she said conversationally bringing you back to the present and you winced, appetite gone.

“Thanks, mom,” you said pushing the plate away from you.

You had blissfully forgotten the entire wedding/rehearsal dinner and the fact that you’d be running into Ryan on both but here was your mom bringing it all back. It wasn’t really her fault. She didn’t know he was in town, much less the details of your breakup. All you told your parents was that you two were done. They didn’t ask for details too relieved that it was finally over.

After washing your plate and refilling your mug, you went back to your childhood room, planning on doing some work before it was time for dinner, but stopped at the sight of the jewelry box and book of shadows.

Part of you wanted to believe you didn’t go to the middle of the street like a lunatic to play summoning demons, but the cut on your finger was still there, so was the box. That did happen. Could John had been real? He couldn’t be, right? What was more plausible? That you summoned a demon from the pits of hell or that your hallucinated a gorgeous man due to too much alcohol?

You cleaned the box and put your necklace back on with snort before powering your laptop so you could write up some reports, being confronted with the low battery light. You dug through your bag, searching for your charger but apparently, you had left at home. This was so not your day.

“I’m heading into town,” you called out from the front door as you put on your shoes. “Anybody want anything?”

“Could stop by at Callum’s, see if the books I ordered arrived?” your father asked and you called a quick agreement before you stepped out into the sunny spring day.

You considered taking your car but decided that a walk would do you some good so you put your earbuds, blasting one of your playlists and after twenty minutes you were at the heart of town, waving at familiar faces as you made a beeline to the electronic store to buy yourself a new charger, before heading to the antique books dealer a couple of blocks down the road.

Callum’s bookstore was a little place that had been standing for as long as you could remember and it was one of your favorite places in your home town. As you stepped inside a small chime rang out, announcing your arrival. To your surprise, it wasn’t Callum that stepped out to meet you, but a young man who smiled brightly at you.

“Welcome to Callum’s books. How can I help you?”

“My father ordered some books,” you said, offering your last name and watching as the man – Clark according to his nametag – typed on a computer. Apparently, Callum was beginning to modernize his business.

“They’re in the back. I’ll pack them up for you,” Clark replied with another smile, before disappearing behind a door.

You wandered aimlessly, browsing the book spines, picking up random titles that caught your attention to flip through it. There was something magical about reading through words that someone else had read one day or even made notes. It was a unique story inside a story.

As you read through a dedicatory in one of the books you picked up, you felt the familiar prickling on the back of your neck, the strange, uncomfortable feeling of being watched that always made the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on its ends.

You breathed slowly left hand falling to your waist but coming up empty. You didn’t have your holster with you because you weren’t on duty. This wasn’t New York, this was your hometown a city where the worst kind of crime that had ever happened in the last ten years was someone vandalizing the high school principal’s car.

Setting the book back, you turned around, breath catching in your throat when you saw John there, leaning against one of the bookcases and watching you with his intense dark eyes.

“Hello, darling.”

Your mouth moved wordlessly for a couple of seconds as you tried to make your brain work through your shock. He was real? You didn’t hallucinate or dream him?

“No, you didn’t,” he said, lips drawing into a smirk as he took a step towards you. “We did indeed meet at the crossroads and make a deal.”

“Right,” you croaked, the memory of kissing him enough to make your knees weak.

Fortunately, you heard Clark calling your name and had an excuse to look away from John and focus on the friendly seller instead. As you reached for the pile of carefully wrapped books, John swiped in, picking them up for you.

“Why don’t I give you a hand, darling?” he said, not giving you a chance to answer, his gaze shifting to Clark. “Tell Callum I’ll meet him tomorrow to see the other book.”

Before you had a chance to protest, John had already stepped outside his long legs giving him an unfair advantage and you had no other choice but follow. He made his way to a gorgeous Mustang holding your books under his arm, as he opened the passenger door for you.

You stood there still too stunned to know what to do. Were you really about to get into the car of a strange man, possibly a demon? Before your mind could finish processing that thought, your legs had already moved you forward and you got in. John flashed you a smile as he handed your books before closing the door.

“You look like you could use a drink,” he teased, turning on the engine and you snorted. It was ten in the morning and you were still nursing a hangover but he was absolutely right.

“I’ll settle for some coffee,” you said instead and John nodded, driving the short distance to the same diner you had been at with your friends yesterday. The two of you even sat at the same booth nursing the burned coffee as you just stared at each other, the air heavy with tension.

“You have questions,” John said, finally breaking the silence. “Ask them.”

“You’re really a demon?” you blurted out and he chuckled, giving you a quick nod. “Prove it.”

“You want me to grown horns and a tail or something?” he asked with a smirk and you snorted. That would be quite funny and ridiculous. “It would.”

“And you can read my mind.” It was an assertion, but John still nodded. You wondered how that would feel, to listen to everyone’s thoughts.

“A little bit like listening to a radio that’s picking up interference,” he replied, startling you and he even looked surprised himself like he wasn't expecting to tell you. “I can hear yours much clearer. Other people, they’re usually just whispers, and I need to focus a little more.”

“So, I guess I have to be careful about what I think around you, huh?” you said with a smile, which John returned.

“Probably.”

And just because you could, you conjured up a mental picture of him with bright red horns sticking out of his dark hair. John nearly spat out of coffee, laughing and you chuckled too, relaxing.

The silence stretched between the two of you again, but strangely it wasn’t uncomfortable. John set your nerves on edge, but not in a bad way. It was more like eager expectation, the same you used to feel every Christmas morning before coming down the stairs to find your presents. He was a fascinating surprise you were anxious to unravel.

“What exactly happens with this deal?” you asked, drumming your fingers on the table, just to have something to do.

“You get what you want and I get what I want. Simple as that.”

“And what you want?” you met his gaze that seemed to electrify your body and steal your breath with its intensity.

“What you think I want, darling?” he asked, tracing the brim of his cup as he watched you and you swallowed hard, looking away.

“My soul?” You guessed and for the third time, Joh just nodded. It was refreshing to meet someone this honest. “But I didn’t give you that in the deal.”

“True. But there are other ways to get it. Just takes longer.”

“Is there a way to break the deal?” you asked.

“Do you want to?”

You thought about it and you should want it. You were sitting across a literal demon who just told you point-blank that he wanted your soul. You should want to stay as far away as possible end this before it even began but something was stopping you. A sort of morbid curiosity, the same one that pushed you to the crossroads last night. That part of you wanted to see how far John would go to have your soul and how far could you push back, challenge him.

“No,” you said finally and John smiled, it was almost wolfishly, predatorial and made you shudder.

“Then what time should I pick you up tonight?”

---

Eight on the dot John pulled up in front of her house, dressed in one of his best dark suits, his hair pushed back and away from his face. He surveyed the two stores Greek revival style construction, the picket white fence and perfectly manicured lawn. The embodiment of the American dream.

With a smile, John walked up the stone pathway to the front door and before he could even reach for the doorbell, it was pulled open and there she stood in a navy-blue dress falling just above her knees and a deep neckline that commanded his eyes to take a peek at her generous cleavage.

The dark color of the dress complimented her porcelain skin, just like the dark shade of red of her lipstick that kept pulling his eyes to her full lips and the way her hair was pulled up exposing her neck almost dared him to kiss it. She looked irresistible and John couldn’t help but want to wreck her, taint the pristine purity he could feel on her.

“You look beautiful, darling,” he said and she actually blushed, lowering her gaze, a shy smile across her lips.

“Thank you.”

She took the hand John offered her, letting him lead her to his car. He could feel her hesitation, doubt filling her mind again, along with concern for her friends at the thought of bringing a demon to the rehearsal dinner.

“You have nothing to worry about, darling,” John reassured. “I’m bound to you until our deal is completed. I will not harm you or anyone you care about. I have no reason to do so. Not unless they threaten me.” John could tell she was inclined to believe him, but there was still a hint of uncertainty. “Rest assured that I will never lie or deceive you. Not when the truth can get me everything I need.”

She met his eyes, holding his gaze for a moment, searching for the truth in them. John knew she was very apt at spotting lies if due to her training or natural talent, he had yet to discover, but John was very happy that he was being completely honest with her. Apparently satisfied with what she saw in his gaze, she nodded and got into the car.

It was a short drive to the Italian restaurant the rehearsal dinner was being held and when John handed his keys to the valet, he also included a healthy tip. It was much easier to assure the safety of his car by being generous than being threatening.

He offered his arm, noticing how small her hand looked tucked by his elbow as he guided the way to the entrance. As they stepped closer to the door, John was flooded with her anxiety, the fear of running into her ex and his new girlfriend and uncertainty about her looks. It was overwhelming and unsettling and John was getting nauseous himself, so he entwined their fingers together and squeezed lightly. She looked over at him almost surprised as John offered his reassurance.

“Everything will be fine,” he said against her ear, making sure his lips grazed her skin just to see her shiver and gasp. Once again he was overtaken by her scent, making him unsteady with want. He pulled away, noticing the way her eyes were a little glazed too. It was good to know that he wasn’t the only one affected.

They quickly located their table, sitting side by side and John ordered her some sparkling wine to settle her nerves and bourbon for himself.

As the night progressed and conversation flowed, John could tell she had relaxed considerably as she talked and laughed with her friends. He piped in every now and then, but his focus was mainly on her, making sure she was enjoying herself, that her glass was always full, but alternating with water so the wouldn’t get sick.

He kept an arm around her shoulders, fingers either playing with the loose strands of hair on her nape or with the delicate chain of her necklace as he sipped his own drink. John didn’t quite understand his need to have a constant point of physical contact with her but didn’t question it and she didn’t seem to mind. As a matter of fact, whenever he pulled his hand away for any reason, she searched for it, leaning against his touch like a cat starved for affection.

When she stood up to make her toast, John tried to ignore the loss, focusing instead on scanning the rest of the guests. He had noticed a blonde man staring at her all night and wondered if that was the ex-boyfriend. Regardless, John made sure she remained oblivious to him and he didn’t dare to come closer.

From the corner of his eye, he saw her hugging the bride after her speech, the two of them exchange quiet words. A rush of pleasure shot through his body as she lied about him to her best friend. It was small, but it was a sin and her guilt tasted like rich coffee in his tongue, bitter but delicious. He grinned into his bourbon, glancing to where he saw her, but finding the spot empty.

As John looked around for her a sudden ache in his chest chased away any enjoyment that came from tainting her soul, confusing him because he never felt bad about corrupting anyone before. Then again, he never really met anyone like her before.

He took a moment to tune into her thoughts, listening to how she chided herself for lying to her friend and for being smitten by John. He almost smiled because she was a very intelligent woman. She could tell John was manipulating her, using his ability to be privy to her thoughts and feelings to give her everything she wanted, but she still couldn’t fight her attraction any more than he could fight his.

There was a moment of silence and then John was overcome by panic. It squeezed his gut and made him stood up in an instant, ignoring the strange looks he was receiving. She was terrified and the need to find her grew impossible to ignore or fight against. John let their bound guide him, finding her cornered by the blonde man just outside the restroom. Apparently, he was indeed the ex.

She looked like a deer caught in headlights and it brought forth a savage urge in John to ripping this man to shreds. He could actually feel the thrum of power barely contained under his skin and knew that if he looked into a mirror right now he would find his eyes were pitch black.

John pushed down at his impulses, a little shocked at his lack of control and protectiveness towards her. He never cared about the ones he made deals before. They were just meat sacks carrying around the prize he wanted. Not her though. She was different to him and he didn’t know why.

“There’s something you need to know about our breakup.” John heard the man said just as he moved closer to them, making the other man shut up.

“There you are, darling,” John said catching her gaze and her relief was obvious.

He moved towards her with sure steps, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close to his body, giving into the possessiveness he seemed to be feeling for her. He was rewarded by the feel of her tense muscles relaxing in his embrace as she hugged him back, her thumb hooking on the belt loops of his trousers.

Once he felt she was safe and protected, John shifted his attention to the ex-boyfriend. Examining the other man and enjoying way too much the terrified look in his face as he confronted the darkness of John’s eyes.

“Hello. I don’t think we’ve met,” he said offering Ryan a hand. “John.”

“Ryan,” the blonde said, his voice cracking slightly, and John smiled. Spineless asshole, not worthy of his time. He shifted his gaze to her, dismissing Ryan.

“Are you ready to go? It’s getting quite late.” She nodded quickly, letting John guide her away from Ryan, her relief growing at each step they took.

“Thank you. How did you know?”

“We’re bounded, my darling. I will always know when you need me,” he said caressing her arm soothingly and pressing a quick kiss to her temple. The action surprised both of them. John didn’t mean to be this gentle and he realized she wasn’t the only one getting too involved.

He waited while she said her goodbyes to the bride and groom, another lie slipping easily through her lips. The rush of sin wasn’t as big, neither was her guilt. Once she was ready, John led her outside where his car was already waiting. This time, she didn’t hesitate on getting in the car, as a matter of fact, as John took the driver’s seat, all he could feel coming for her was comfort and relief.

tbc

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