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bvidzsoo · 4 months

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Love Me Like A Rockstar (5)

Chapter 5: Avalanche

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

Warning: cussing, mentions of suicide

Word count: 8, 084

Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Updateee, hehet. Now, now...this chapter is emotionally loaded, but at least we can notice some progress in their relationship lol, it was about time if you ask me. Please listen to Avalanche before or while reading this chapter, it's really important as it portrays Mingi's story and feelings in the past, so please don't skip it! I can't promise the next update will be soon because I have a deadline by next week, but if I won't be too burned out then I might just update towards next weekend. ALSO G U Y S!!!! Tunnel?!?!?!?!?! SONG MINGI'S SOLO???? ARE WE FINE?!?!?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE RELEASES T H A T WHILE I'M WRITING A STORY EXACTLY LIKE THAT???!! No, but seriously, I'm completely not fine, I still can't believe this happened BECAUSE IT'S NOT THE FIRST TIME I WRITE SOMETHING AND IT HAPPENS. Okay, I'm done screaming, sorry. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, I tried my best and I hope it turned out okay. Feedback is appreciated, enjoy now!!

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @juicy-red @scarfac3 @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @okokmaybe01-blog

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

There was a beat of silence, of nobody moving, of nobody blinking or saying anything. My heart shouldn’t have picked up its rhythm so fast, but as my eyes briefly ran over Mingi’s tall form standing in the doorway opposite mine, I realized he looked the same as in the video I have seen on Seulgi’s Instagram story, the only change to his outfit was the black hoodie covering his broad frame—and wet, almost see-through, white shirt.

“What are you doing here?” My mouth was moving before I could think, mind suddenly a puddle.

“Picking up some food since I’m headed home from Outlaw.” Mingi’s explanation came quickly, his own eyes taking in my appearance as they briefly ran over my body. My grip tightened around the doorknob as I suddenly felt embarrassed. I knew I didn’t look like my usual self; my eyes were still red from crying, and I couldn’t help but sniff every other few minute. And I was completely soaked in rainwater.

“What are you doing here?” Mingi asked at once, eyes finally meeting mine. His expression was neutral, but there was something in his eyes—he seemed tired. Black eyeliner rimmed his already sharp eyes, creating the illusion of them piercing right through you. I suddenly felt naked under his attentive gaze, too exposed for my liking. I cleared my throat and stepped away from the doorway finally, circling my arms around my body, just now noticing the teetering of my teeth. I tried to offer my body some comfort by hugging myself, but it wasn’t exactly working.

“I was on a walk when it started raining, so I took shelter in here.” That wasn’t a lie at all, yet under Mingi’s watchful gaze, it felt like one. My eyebrows slightly furrowed at the thought, wondering why it felt like I was lying. Perhaps it was the doubt in his eyes as he looked over me once again, clearly questioning why I was drenched from head to toe if I took shelter in here, but I would not further explain myself to him.

“Right,” His voice conveyed nothing and I tried to hide my surprise as he didn’t prod further, “I understand.”

He stepped outside the men’s restroom finally, making me press myself up against the cold wall of the hallway as it was narrow, sniffing as another shudder ripped through my body. Despite having warmed my hands and cheeks with the warm water, I could feel the cold seep through my bones once again as my clothes clung onto my frame uncomfortably. Mingi didn’t cast me any other glance as he took off towards the main hall and I found myself following after him, licking my dry lips as I tried to hug myself tighter, rubbing at my side clumsily. It was my last attempt to warm myself up. My eyes were trained on the floor as they were burning, but I found them drawn upwards soon, curiously watching the back of Mingi’s head. His black hair was damp, and the blue sheer sunglass I saw him wearing in the video was put on backwards, making me frown as I stared at it as it rested against the back of Mingi’s head. Couldn’t he just take it off? Why wear it backwards? Was this a new trend he was following to become more famous? I scoffed at myself quietly as Mingi and I rounded the corner, walking back inside the main hall of the diner, the lady at the front counter looking up from a notebook she was writing in, cash placed next to it. Her eyes were trained on Mingi only, and I rolled my eyes subconsciously, awaiting her to act like one of his baboons—fangirls—from Outlaw and even from our university, but instead, her eyes held warmth as she leaned down and grabbed something from behind the counter. I found myself rooted to my place, watching the interaction—just slightly intrigued—as if I were a child waiting for their parent to finally move and leave the diner. It was silly, really, why was I waiting for Mingi? It’s not like him and I would be leaving together—yet my feet refused to move despite my thoughts telling me to do so.

“Steak with mashed potatoes and some side dishes, just the way you like it.” The lady said kindly as she placed a casserole inside a bag on the counter, pushing it towards Mingi. My eyes were glued to the side of his face, watching his reaction, waiting for his usual arrogant and flirty self to come to the surface, but instead, a small smile made it onto his face as his right hand slipped inside his pocket. Huh, that was new, I’ve never seen Mingi act like—himself—in front of a woman before.

“Thank you, Dahyun, you always seem to know what I’m craving.” Mingi told her quietly and I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt a sneeze trying to fight its way out of my nose, it burned.

“No, you just always ask for the same meals on the same days,” She chuckled as Mingi extended the money towards her, “You’re a simple man, and my memory is simply too good—it’s on the house tonight, Mingi.”

“But—”

“I already closed the register.” Dahyun winked at him and pushed Mingi’s hand back, ignoring the noises of complaint he made, “Seriously, do you want me to overwork myself?”

“Fine,” Mingi sighed, his eyebrows furrowed. My head started to lightly thump and I found myself leaning against the wall, eyes heavy and burning. My mother would kill me for getting sick for such a dumb reason as to staying out in the rain without realizing it was even pouring. Damn Yunho, it’s his fault, “But at least let me leave a tip.”

Dahyun gave Mingi a pointed stare before her eyes fell on me, suddenly realizing I was there too. I cleared my throat awkwardly as I stood up straight, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. Mingi turned his head, his eyes falling on me as well, and suddenly I felt—so small. Both of them were looking at me with concern in their eyes, and I couldn’t help but look away as my eyes were suddenly burning with tears in them. Why was I in such an unstable state all of a sudden? My chest felt lighter, my throat wasn’t closing in on me anymore—I was fine, so then why?

“Can you make her some tea? If I’m not asking for too much.” My eyes snapped up in Mingi’s direction as he was looking at me, face still emotionless, but eyebrows furrowed.

“Of course, we’ve still got like five minutes until we’re closing.” Dahyun answered him cheerily and then turned around, opening some cabinets as she got to work.

“Okay, but accept the money this time.” Mingi muttered and placed some bills on the counter, pushing it towards the notebook she seemed to be busy with before we disturbed her.

“Whatever.” Dahyun huffed and cast me a quick glance as Mingi turned to look at me again.

“Are you cold?” Mingi asked and I tensed my muscles, trying to stop the trembling, but it was hard—and it wasn’t even working. But I just gulped and pulled myself together, walking closer to him.

“No.” My teeth clanked against each other again and I sniffed as Dahyun turned to face me, a plastic cup in her hands.

“We only have wild berry tea; I hope you like that.” She said with a smile as she placed the cup on the counter and pushed it towards me. I cleared my throat and looked down at it, the steam hot and inviting as I reluctantly reached out for it. It was embarrassing—this whole situation. I was looking like a mess, on the verge of another breakdown, because why not—my brain decided that I simply wasn’t finished crying over nothing—even if it wasn’t exactly nothing, I refused to acknowledge it. I reluctantly reached for the cup, slightly annoyed that Mingi and this Dahyun girl were looking at me like I was going to break—or explode—at any given moment. I let out a frustrated sigh as my fingers wrapped around the hot cup firmly, skin slightly burning, but I welcomed the feeling as I have stopped feeling my fingers a good few minutes ago.

“Stop looking at me like that, Mingi, I’m fine.” I didn’t mean to snap, but my tone was sharp as I sucked in a sharp breath, bringing the cup up to my lips and blowing on the hot water, the steam warming my skin.

“I’m not looking—anyways,” He cut himself off as he grabbed the bag with his food inside and stepped away from the counter, “Thank you, Dahyun, we won’t be holding you back for longer.”

“No problem, see you soon!” She said with a smile, waving a little as Mingi nodded at her, barely returning her smile. It seemed almost like there was something wrong with him, but I couldn’t tell, I didn’t know him well. He could’ve been simply acting to gain our sympathy—I could see Mingi doing something like that, it didn’t seem too far from his atrocious character.

“Uh, thank you.” I thanked the girl quietly as I slightly bowed my head and she just smiled, waving at me as well as I quickly hurried after Mingi, who had stopped in the doorway, apparently waiting for me.

His hand reached out for the handle, but he hesitated for a second, not opening the door just yet, “It’s still raining…and you don’t have an umbrella…”

I raised an eyebrow as I took a sip of my hot tea, taking a glance at Mingi. He was looking ahead, eyes trained on the road through the glass doors. The sweet taste of wild berries exploded in my mouth and I bit my lip as the warm tea flushed down my throat, warming me up from the inside as I eagerly took another big gulp, slightly burning my tongue.

“Yeah, I don’t have an umbrella.” I said, the two of us looking at each other at the same time, “But it’s fine, I’m already drenched. I’ll just run home—”

“You’re already shivering and shaking constantly, Y/N.” Mingi said matter of fact, and I rolled my eyes almost instantly, “Let me drive you home.”

“You don’t have to, it doesn’t matter.” I muttered with a shrug and took another sip of my tea, but Mingi just shook his head and turned his body slightly towards mine.

“You keep sniffing and you are clearly cold, even if you say you aren’t.” He raised an eyebrow, pointing towards my flushed cheek—I could only hope I wouldn’t have a fever, “You’ll catch a cold at this point, just let me drive you home. It’s not a big deal, really.”

“Mingi,” I sighed loudly, giving him a glare, “I’m fine, I’m not cold and I won’t catch a cold—”

Almost as if the Universe—or my own body—was having a laugh at me, a sneeze forced its way through my nostrils, loud, and an obvious sign that I wasn’t doing too well currently. Mingi’s lips pressed into a thin line as he tried not to smile and suppress his chuckle, making me grumble to myself as I quickly drank the remaining tea, feeling slightly warmer.

“Still going to pass on that ride?” Mingi quirked an eyebrow as a smirk appeared on his lips and I scoffed, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“Lead the way, Prince Charming.” I mocked, but it only made Mingi giggle as he pushed the door open, the breeze freezing as it suddenly hit me. I instantly shivered and made myself smaller, clutching myself around my middle.

“That’s my car.” Mingi pointed towards a black car across the street and suddenly he took off, pulling his hood over his head, running out into the rain. There was no oncoming traffic, so I quickly left the shop and ran across the road, headed for the passenger seat. As I got there, the car was unlocked and Mingi was pulling the key out of the lock and opening his side of the door quickly, jumping inside. I followed his lead and slammed the door closed after sitting inside, shivering and groaning at the cold gripping at my skin again, pressing myself back into the leather seat of Mingi’s car. He placed the food in the backseat, putting the keys into the ignition. He looked at me, lips slightly pursed.

“Uh,” For the first time in my life, Mingi looked embarrassed as he scratched his nape, “The car’s old so uhm—we’ll have to wait a little bit before we take off. For the engine to warm up and shit, you know.”

I hummed and gulped, grip tightening around the plastic cup I was still holding onto. I did not want to prolong my time spent together with Mingi, so why couldn’t his car work just fine? I watched him as he turned the key, but the engine didn’t start right away, screeching for a second as Mingi tried again, groaning with his eyebrows furrowed. I remained silent as I watched him struggle for a few more seconds until the engine finally rumbled to life, the sound louder than I expected. But it only lasted for another second before it settled down, the pouring rain overshadowing the sound of the old engine. Mingi went and pressed a few buttons on the dashboard and I allowed my muscles to relax slightly, noting the way I was still shaking. When will it stop? It was getting annoying. As if Mingi sensed my train of thoughts, he turned his head towards me and cleared his throat.

“Are you cold?” He asked, making me sigh as I shook my head no, refusing to admit that I couldn’t feel my feet anymore. Maybe if this old wreck could warm up faster I wouldn’t be shaking so much—and I knew Mingi’s car had zero faults right now, but I had to pour my irritation onto something instead of admitting defeat in front of him, “You’re very obviously cold, Y/N.”

I scoffed and my eyes snapped to him as he suddenly leaned more towards me, reaching for something in the backseat of the car, “If it’s so obvious, Mr. Obvious, do something about it—”

My mouth clamped shut the second Mingi was holding a black denim jacket in his hand with a lopsided smile, extending it towards me, “I am doing something about it, here, wear it.”

He let it fall into my lap before I could refuse him and suddenly my cheeks were on fire—and not from the cold. I cleared my throat loudly and averted my gaze as Mingi settled back into his seat with a small grin, watching me as I rolled my eyes, fumbling with the heavy jacket he had given me. I didn’t want to wear it—that was the last thing I actually wanted to do, but a violent shiver racked through my body and I was suddenly moving faster than lightning, groaning as my clothes were still stuck against my body. It was a horrible feeling, but at least Mingi’s seats were leather, easier to clean. I pulled the black denim jacket around my shoulders before putting each arm through the sleeves, trying to ignore Mingi’s eyes on me, and the amused smile he had on his face. It wasn’t funny—but it was probably entertaining to him. I wonder how many girls he took home like this before me, letting them wear his jacket only to flirt with them afterwards as a means of getting to sleep with them. Men were easy, and Mingi was one of them. I could see right through his bullshit, and so, despite the warmth and masculine scent enveloping my senses, I gave Mingi a sharp glare, making him chuckle.

“You’re so predictable,” He said quietly, almost as if to himself, but I heard him, and I scoffed, “You won’t thank me, right?”

“I’m still cold.” I evaded his question instead, giving him a look, but Mingi just giggled, the sound low and deep inside his chest. I watched as his features relaxed and found my heart beating faster once again as I realized that I was enclosed in a tiny space with him, barely a few feet away from each other. There was something different about Mingi all of a sudden as he threw his head back, sighing loudly and gripping the wheel. His eyes fluttered close and I couldn’t will myself to look away, suddenly curious of the man sitting next to me. Who was he? Why was he like this? But the confusing butterflies deep inside my stomach sent me into distress, and I averted my eyes as Mingi opened his, and realized it was becoming suffocating. The silence. I didn’t like it. Mingi wasn’t saying anything, the engine was still dully rumbling and the rain was hitting the roof of the old Honda Prelude loudly. It didn’t feel as restricting as earlier, but my throat was squeezing in on itself and without asking for permission, I reached forward and pressed a button on the stereo, turning the radio on.

The instrumental wasn’t something I have heard before, and the harsh beat of the drums resounded in the car loudly, making my heart jump. Soon, the drum was accompanied by the lively but soft melody of the guitar, guiding it through. It felt like a storm, the loud and harsh beats of the drums lead by the soft yet determined guitar. It was almost as if two sides of the coin were leaning on each other for support—almost as if one was desperate to be shown some light in the darkness. I saw Mingi shift in the corner of my eyes, and I was startled at the intense look in his eyes as he looked at me, lips parted and eyebrows drawn up. He seemed surprised but at the same time almost angry, it was a look I couldn’t read well yet. I didn’t understand why he was looking at me like that. Suddenly, the drums slightly softened, until they became silent, and the guitar guided the melody smoothly, bringing it a comforting feeling. Mingi and I were still looking at each other and I was about to ask why he was looking at me like that, but suddenly the raspy, yet warm, voice resounding in the car took me off guard as my eyes widened, leaving me gaping at Mingi.

『Cut me open and tell me what's inside

Diagnose me 'cause I can't keep wondering why

And no, it's not a phase 'cause it happens all the time

Start over, check again, now tell me what you find

'Cause I'm going out of frequency

Can anyone respond?』

His voice was smooth as the drums and guitar accompanied it, dropping lower at times and feeling like the caress of a whisper at the same time. Mingi’s face had turned emotionless once again as his eyes locked with mine, and I tried to give him a glare, but my mind was focused on the words he was singing—on the message behind his lyrics.

『It's like an avalanche, I feel myself go under

'Cause the weight of it's like hands around my neck

I never stood a chance, my heart has frozen over

And I feel like I am treading on thin ice』

The beat picked up again, the drums louder as the melody grew more aggressive, Mingi’s voice reflecting it and gliding with it. His voice was powerful and held sincerity as he sung, his words ringing through my mind as the raspiness of it became more hearable. I couldn’t hold Mingi’s gaze anymore and I swiftly turned my head, playing with the cup I had in my hands as I gulped, the melody slowing down once again.

『Am I broken? What's the chance I will survive?

Don't sugarcoat me 'cause I feel like suicide

Just give it to me straight, 'cause I'm running out of time

I need an antidote, now what can you prescribe?』

My eyebrows furrowed the longer I listened to his words, wondering if this is what he actually felt like. Wondering when he wrote this song. Wondering why and how was Mingi hiding such feelings locked away in himself, in a way that nobody would be able to see the real him. Why were his words so relatable and why did I suddenly find myself teary eyed, biting my lower lip to try and get a grip of myself again.

『It's like an avalanche, I feel myself go under

'Cause the weight of it's like hands around my neck

I never stood a chance, my heart has frozen over

And I feel like I am treading on thin ice, and I'm going under』

I wonder who made him feel like that. Who had hurt Mingi so much that he felt like he was on the verge of giving it all up. Did he still feel like that? Were the two of us not so much different from each other after all? I sniffed, turning my head to look out the window instead, scared that if I hung my head down the tears would actually fall.

『I need a cure for me 'cause the square doesn't fit the circle

Give me a remedy 'cause my head wasn't wired for this world

I need a cure for me 'cause the square doesn't fit the circle

Give me a remedy 'cause my head wasn't wired for this world』

My grip around the cup tightened and I heard Mingi shift in his seat again, but I didn’t turn around to look at him. Emotions and thoughts of all sorts were whirling in my head, and I couldn’t stop thinking. I haven’t really paid attention to what he sings in his songs before—not that I had many occasions to do so—but this one suddenly felt so familiar, as if there was at least one person in the world who understood my struggles too. I’ve had low points in life before, especially after Yunho left me, and I really felt like there was no way out for me. I didn’t know how to cope and what to do with myself, I became uncaring and closed myself off to the world, only talking to those necessary, and barely doing anything if I could. That was the only time in my life when my art didn’t help at all, when I couldn’t pick up my pencil out of fear of what my mind would conjure up to torment me with. My life revolved around Jeong Yunho, and I knew because of missing him, he would be the only thing I would be drawing. He was my muse, and I hated it for such a long time not realizing that it was in some twisted way helping with getting over him. I have memorized every single feature and flaw of his, knowing it by heart. It was freeing when I was able to highlight all the things I knew he hated about himself, it made it easier for me to remind myself that he wasn’t as perfect as I thought he was. It was just the idea I had created of him in my head.

My fingers were tapping against the cup, following the rhythm of the song as Mingi’s beautiful voice carried on singing, the melody wrapping me up in my thoughts, almost getting lost to the point where I wasn’t paying attention to the song anymore. But it was actually impossible to do that, Mingi had a way to keep you focused on himself even if he was just simply singing, his raspy and warm voice keeping you in a vice grip, making you yearn for more. As the song came to an end, I released a breath I didn’t even realize I had been holding. Mingi was swift as he leaned forward and turned off the stereo, clearing his throat loudly. For a few more seconds nothing was said between the two of us, silence enveloping around us once again. But I didn’t feel uncomfortable anymore, I felt—almost sad, but mostly curious of the making of this song. Of what prompted Mingi to write it. Why were his emotions so raw in this, and who caused him to feel like this.

“It wasn’t bad,” I found myself speaking up, not really thinking through my words first, “you’re not too bad at this, Mingi.”

I didn’t expect him to laugh, and as I turned my head, he was already looking at me with an amused look on his face, covering his mouth as his laughter got louder for a second. My eyebrows furrowed, and I was about to say something less nice to him, but I realized my compliment sounded oddly similar to the one I had gotten from him back at the library. Despite fighting against the smile wanting to appear on my lips, I quickly let out a chuckle, our eyes with Mingi connecting. Despite the depth of the song and the somber atmosphere it created, Mingi seemed to be almost ecstatic as he shrugged, drumming his fingers against the wheel. Subconsciously, I nuzzled further into the collar of the denim jacket, the cologne stronger as I inhaled it, reminded that I was wearing Mingi’s jacket. I didn’t miss the way a fond smile appeared on his face for a few moments, quickly disappearing as he cleared his throat and looked ahead, pressing some other buttons on the dashboard.

“Thank you, getting a compliment from a fine arts genius certainly feels like I have won a Grammy or something.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes as Mingi chuckled, grinning at me for a second before he turned his body fully towards me, taking me off guard, “I wrote this song a long time ago, when—well, there’s nothing to hide here, when Yunho left for college. When I—remained alone at home, here in this town. Nothing was set in stone yet, to be honest, I had absolutely no idea what to do with my life back then. I was eighteen and I was confused and scared. The pressure of figuring out what you wanted to do with your life at such a young age was frightening and breaking me down, to be honest. I’ve always struggled mentally—you know, with depression and anxiety—and I think that period of time was the lowest I had ever been.”

I was soaking in every word Mingi was saying, mind silent and eyes focused on him, wanting to hear more as he continued talking, “Yunho was always the stronger one between the two of us and he always knew from a young age what he wanted to do, so when I realized I hadn’t planned my future ahead like him, I lost myself. And he—left, to college—in a different city. Hours away, leaving me all alone. I know I might sound dramatic, but I don’t deal well with change. I never have and I never will, I’m afraid. It took me almost a year to finally get used to living alone and sometimes I still struggle, it’s really frustrating. So you can imagine how badly I took my best friend, whom I have never been separated from before and we’ve known each other since kindergarten, leaving and abandoning me in the small town I have always hated and had no future in. I fell into deep depression and nothing was helping, like at all. Not even Yunho returning home out of the blue after two weeks of no contact on my part. When he saw the state I was in, we—we cried for hours, Y/N. It was horrible. I hate making him feel like that, because it wasn’t his fault, it was all mine.”

My eyebrows furrowed and my heart clenched upon hearing Mingi’s words, quietly letting out a breath which felt like it was restricting my lungs. In this moment, I heard my own thoughts and feelings in Mingi. His struggles and pain, I understood them. My fingers crushed the cup accidentally, but thankfully Mingi didn’t seem to notice as he took a deep breath and continued, “I wanted to kill myself. If Yuyu wouldn’t have come home in that exact moment—I don’t think we’d be having this conversation right now.”

My eyebrows furrowed and without really thinking, my left hand reached over the center console and I found myself gripping Mingi’s right hand, his skin so much hotter than mine. He bit his lower lip, eyebrows twitching as he averted his gaze all of a sudden, turning his hand upwards so that my fingers could slip over his palm. It was weird how easily my skin tingled at the contact; thoughts silent for once.

“He suggested I find a way of getting these thoughts and feelings out of myself. And after he left once again I knew I had to do something unless I planned on completely losing my mind, so…I took a pen and paper and started writing. Everything I felt, everything I thought. And miraculously, it worked. Slowly, of course, but it started working. I found a good therapist as well and suddenly I could see a way out of this dark cloud hung up around my head, fogging my thoughts up. I searched for a beat on YouTube and realized I could turn these thoughts and feelings into music. And they didn’t even sound bad, but what was most important was that I enjoyed doing it. I felt free, I felt like I could finally say anything I ever wanted. And I knew if this helped me, then it would help others as well, let them know they weren’t alone, and that you can go on even if it seems like you can’t. I wrote this song right before signing up to our university and sent it in as a sample. I was granted access to the studious a week later, and two weeks later accepted to the university. It’s probably one of my happiest memories, especially since Yunho surprised me that day by coming home and celebrating it with me.”

As Mingi was done talking, silence settled between the two of us. Comforting, understanding. I looked down at my lap, mind a whirlwind of thoughts all of a sudden, threatening to rush out at once. The sudden thumb sweeping against my knuckles made me slightly tense, realizing that I was completely holding hands with Mingi. My cheeks burned all of a sudden and my heart jumped, yet despite my thoughts telling me to pull my hand out of his, I didn’t move just yet. The feeling—wasn’t so bad.

“My sketchbook—the one you flipped through without my permission—” I sent Mingi a small glare as he snorted, cutting me off for a second, “is like my journal. I doddle in it daily, sometimes I even write little messages next to the sketches, noting down the things on my mind or just simply how my day went. When I draw, my mind is completely silent, I feel at ease. There’s nothing bothering me and I don’t have to worry in that moment of what the next line will illustrate or what the overall drawing will be. My thoughts are often too loud and I get overwhelmed by them, it’s hard to ignore them, you know? But by drawing, I can escape them and free myself even for a little while, it’s similar to what you must feel when you write music. Just letting go and releasing everything you feel.”

Mingi’s eyes were warm and soft as a small smile appeared on his lips, his skin suddenly burning mine and as my heartbeat showed no signs of slowing down, so, I carefully slipped my hand out of his, turning ahead and staring out at the pouring rain, feeling exposed and too small, “I understand what it must’ve felt like going through all of that. There was a time in my life, when—my whole world revolved around one person only and when—when he left, I thought I would die. I didn’t want to continue on living, to be completely honest. But with time, and thanks to my mother and Seulgi, I built myself back up. It’s fine now—I mean, I’m fine now.”

Mingi just hummed and I could feel his gaze on me as I leaned forward in the seat, rubbing my face as I felt fatigue settle over my whole being. At least I wasn’t shaking anymore, the car had warmed up significantly and my clothes weren’t sticking to my skin so violently anymore.

“Everyone has their story, Y/N.” Mingi spoke up, and I could hear the smile in his voice, “And it was very obvious to me that your attitude towards me is just a defense mechanism—”

“Oh, don’t get too cocky now that I’ve shared something so insignificant from my life.” I snapped as I turned my head, giving him a small glare. Mingi chuckled, holding his hands up in a way that said he wasn’t trying to attack me.

“I don’t think it’s insignificant—”

“Mingi.”

“Tell me something…” He trailed off and I sighed loudly, not in the mood to converse anymore. I wanted to go home, “Are those eyes really Yunho’s in your sketchbook? Because I really don’t think they are. I mean, I know what my own eyes like look and—”

“Whatever, they are yours, okay?” I snapped defensively as I crossed my arms in front of my chest, cutting Mingi off. I knew I should’ve never confessed to him that those were indeed his eyes, because now the shit eating grin he had on his lips and the way his eyes sparkled weren’t worth it. Not when my cheeks felt on fire, and I knew it wasn’t from the warmth inside the car.

“I knew it!” He said triumphantly, giggling a little, making me role my eyes.

“Just because you have pretty eyes doesn’t mean I’m in love with you.” I scoffed and suddenly Mingi froze, staring at me like I said something wrong. I raised my eyebrows at him in question.

“I never said you were in love with me.” Shit. I scoffed and rolled my eyes again, giving him a deadpan look.

“Very well, can’t have you thinking that now that you know those are your eyes.” Mingi laughed, again, as he playfully leaned towards me, making my glare deepen.

“So, you think I’m pretty?” He bit his lower lip and my brain blanked for a second as my eyes ran over his face quickly, taking in his features. Yes, he was very pretty—what the fuck?!

“Just because you have features which are easy to draw, Mingi, doesn’t mean I think you’re pretty. Have I told you already that you’re self-absorbed?” I raised my eyebrows mockingly as I clicked my tongue and Mingi chuckled as he faced forward, turning on the windshield wipers.

“Yes, quite a few times, actually.” I scoffed, putting on my seatbelt when I saw Mingi doing the same.

“Just take me home.” I muttered as I turned my head and looked out the window.

“Tell me your address first.” Mingi’s tone was playful as he turned on the stereo again, this time a channel of a radio playing music in Mingi’s vintage car as he slowly drove off.

After arriving home I had taken a very long and very hot shower, letting my body stay under the stream for a long time, probably making my mother think that I was drowning. I could feel my muscles finally relaxing, the shivers completely gone from my body as I dressed into my warmest pajamas once I got out of the shower, blow-drying my hair quickly, eager to get underneath my warm blanket. Thankfully my mother wasn’t angry at all by the time I got home, she was waiting for me with two mugs of hot chocolate with marshmallows, and a big hug. She didn’t want to tell me where her sudden affection was coming from, but she said she knew there was something wrong, and that I could go to her the next time I’m struggling. It’s funny how she always knows what the problem is, yet I don’t want to burden her furthermore with my own dramatic emotions.

After drinking the hot chocolate and having a laugh with my mother over the comedy show she was watching in her room, I finally retreated to my own room, under the oh, so warm blanket. I couldn’t help but sigh contently and nuzzle even further into the pillow under my head, grateful to be finally able to rest. But as if the Universe was out against me tonight—and it probably was hence the shitshow today was—sleep never came to me. I was beyond tired, yet I couldn’t sleep. I felt slightly restless, as if I had to do something and I wouldn’t be able to rest until I have done it—and that was drawing. The image in my head was begging for me to be released onto a blank canvas, but I wished it could wait until tomorrow—but it couldn’t, so, with a loud sigh, I sat up and turned on my lamp. The sketchbook was bigger than the one I use as a journal since I rarely use it outside of class, but for what I wanted to draw tonight I needed the bigger one. I flipped it open to a new page and grabbed my pencil, twirling it around my fingers as I sectioned the blank paper, searching for the right angle to start the drawing.

First, I settled on drawing the outlines with faded lines, the background not the most important but since it played a part in the spacing of the drawing, I had to start with that. I went and first did the outline of the car from the inside, adding shading to show where the streetlamps couldn’t reach as the car drove down the empty road, gloomy clouds raining down on us, making the roads slippery and reducing visibility, but Mingi was an attentive and calm driver as he hummed and nodded his head to the beat of the music playing on the radio. His jaw was set and eyes focused up front, on the road, eyebrows ever so slightly furrowed and lower lip quite often between his teeth as he bit into the supple flesh, his lips cherry colored and plump. His jawline long, and sharp; and cheekbones well defined, yet not too sharp; his brow bone more forward, giving him an intimidating look from the side with his eyebrows drawn together. His nose, tall, and long, and pointy—too pretty. I cleared my throat and shook my head, focusing on drawing the rest of Mingi’s features and willing my brain to shut up about whether Mingi was pretty or not—he wasn’t. I couldn’t help but draw the sunglasses he wore so hideously backwards, ruining his overall nice look, making me grimace as I darkened his hair by adding more shading to it. I illustrated the shadows falling over his face as well, his gaze slightly obscured from my view. His long fingers gripped the wheel tightly, the gemstones of his rings glinting whenever the light fell on it in a peculiar way, and I couldn’t help but recall the feeling of his skin against mine as drew the lines defining the muscle of his hands. Just as I went to draw his neck, my phone pinged, slightly startling me as it was loud. It was placed on my nightstand and I groaned as I had to lean over half of my bed to reach it. And as I took my phone into my hands, my heart skipped a beat.

I hate him: are u asleep?

I glanced at the clock and realized it would be soon midnight, I had to get this drawing done and then go to sleep as I had class early in the morning tomorrow. Besides, I didn’t want to talk to Mingi. Why was he texting me? Just because we shared a few sappy stories about ourselves doesn’t mean that we have suddenly become best friends, sharing even more life stories with each other—and most certainly Mingi had no business texting me this late at night. With a huff, I let my phone fall next to me as I continued to draw, focusing on my creation instead. Drawing the neck was easy and quick and I focused on adding little details to it instead, the silver chains he had hanging against his neck tonight, peeking through the collar of his black hoodie. I continued drawing the rest of his body, his arms and torso as well as I could as they weren’t too essential to the drawing as of now. I only wanted to draw Mingi’s profile as he drove, the darkness combined with the streetlamps casting beautiful shadows over his flawless face. But drawing Mingi, knowing that Mingi had texted me all of a sudden felt weird, and I sighed as I dropped my pencil, grabbing my phone again as I unlocked it. He had sent the message five minutes ago, that was enough time for him to fall asleep so even if I text him he’ll only see this in the morning and if he’ll answer I won’t have to text him back anymore—because I didn’t want to be texting with Mingi, at all.

Me: no. u?

As I went to close my phone, his reply came instantly, leaving me surprised. There goes my plan of Mingi being asleep and not having to talk to him tonight…

I hate him: nope, why aren’t u sleeping? Me: i can’t sleep. u?

I chewed on my bottom lip as I shuffled around for a second to be able to sit cross legged in my bed.

I hate him: yeah, same. the rain makes it hard for me to sleep…i hate rain, actually, especially the thunder.

I almost went ahead and typed back that I knew, but Mingi wasn’t supposed to know that. Mingi had no idea Yunho and I had dated back in highschool—Mingi had no idea how much I actually knew about him due to Yunho, and I intended on keeping that a secret from him. I didn’t want to wake up old ghosts in my heart which would bring pain once again.

Me: ig i’m fine with rain as long as i’m somewhere inside, but the humidity kills me. it’s the winter time i actually hate…i can’t deal with cold weather, i get easily sick…

I rubbed my forehead as I pressed send and sighed as I lowered my phone into my lap, suddenly aware of the weird butterflies in my stomach, making me almost nauseous. As I glanced back down at my phone, the three bubbles signaling that Mingi was typing back appeared, and I had to take a deep breath to settle my erratic heartbeat. What was happening? Why was my body reacting in such a weird way?

I hate him: oh, yeah, i totally get the winter thing as someone who loves dressing light. i feel like i am more myself in the summer time lol; my style rocks during the summer and then gets okay-ish during the winter, it’s sad actually…

I chuckled and smirked as I quickly typed back.

Me: why? cuz you can’t show off your biceps during the winter? I hate him: ha-ha aren’t u so funny tonight? Me: i’m always funny, mingi…

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I quickly sent the message despite Mingi still typing.

I hate him: u wish u were always funny, doll…if someone’s funny then that person is me, y/n Me: yeah, right, u wish, prince I hate him: aren’t u just in a delightful mood tonight, doll?

I scoffed but couldn’t fight off the amused smile from my lips.

Me: it’s all thanks to you, idiot I hate him: i think I prefer u calling me prince, actually… Me: u wish, idiot. I hate him: anyways, what’s your favorite season?

I raised an eyebrow as I read the text from Mingi.

Me: interesting question I hate him: well u said u didn’t like winter, so what do you like then? Me: not u, that’s for sure…

I couldn’t help but cackle at my own reply, feeling proud of myself over such little thing. I could imagine Mingi chuckling and shaking his head at it, perhaps glaring down at his phone.

Me: autumn or spring, really…not too cold nor too warm, in-between, just perfect u know?

There was a second of nothing until the bubbles popped up again, making me realize I was smiling down at my phone, so I quickly cleared my throat and got it together. There was nothing to be smiling at here.

I hate him: i get it, those seasons are really pretty…talking of pretty…do you really think i’m pretty?

I couldn’t help the loud scoff which left my lips at the same time as I rolled my eyes, very tempted to leave him on read and just go to sleep right then and there.

Me: i have already told you, mingi, i don’t think u are pretty because u a r e n ‘t, get it???

The reply was instant.

I hate him: hahahahahahaha; u are cute!

My body froze for a second, eyebrows furrowing as I reread his reply. What the fuck? Me? Cute? Yeah, sure, cute my ass—this idiot was testing my patience and kindness, once again.

Me: u’re disgusting, I’m blocking u I hate him: whatever u say, gorgeous, I know u a r e n ‘t!!!

My jaw clenched at the blatant mocking and I scoffed loudly as I looked ahead, glaring at nothing particular as my blood was boiling. He really thought I wouldn’t block him? There was nothing holding me back from doing so—suddenly the bubbles appeared again, and I looked down at my phone—just slightly curious.

I hate him: sorry if that was too much, i was just joking. i wanted to ask something all night, but i just didn’t know whether the timing was right or not or just whatever, but…are u okay? like…do you feel okay?

I gulped, my anger dissipating like it never even happened, leaving me confused. Was he now worried about me? Why would he be?

Me: i’m ok, why?

It took a little time for Mingi to answer, and it made me gulp as I read it.

I hate him: bcz your eyes were red when we met in front of the restrooms and idk…u just kinda felt off or smth…i just wanted to make sure. Me: i had a rough day, but i’m fine… thanks for asking ig… I hate him: ofc, anytime

Did he mean that? I couldn’t help but wonder. But there were so many things about Mingi that I didn’t know yet and…something changed tonight. I couldn’t completely hate him like before. The conversation we had in his car, the things he willingly shared with me were so personal and hard, yet he trusted me with them. I couldn’t help but feel good about it, thankful in a way, that despite my demeanor he still found me worthy of knowing about his past—of knowing of the backstory of said song we have listened to. I thought Mingi was all smirks and a cocky attitude, nothing in that empty and self-centered brain of his—yet he pretty much proved me wrong today, and for some reason I didn’t seem to mind too much. I couldn’t help but bite my lower lip as I looked down at my phone, realizing that it was past midnight now, I had to go to sleep.

Me: goodnight, i have classes early in the morning… I hate him: sweet dreams, y/n…see u at uni.

『I'm going out of frequency

Can anyone respond?

'Cause I'm going out of frequency

Can anyone respond?』

❱❱ Next chapter

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fluffallamaful · 2 years

Note

Locked-In AU: it’s like the Healing AU, but worse! :D

So, similar situation to the Time Travel AU, actually: everyone’s sent back in time with their memories + Limbo Lessons intact, except for Dream. But the only difference is that Dream was not unscathed. Instead, his body and mind have deteriorated so much in the future that his present self just — shuts down. He can think, feel, understand, but he can’t move a muscle. In this condition, it’s easy for Sam and Quackity to make the case for one another that Dream needs serious care. And this leads to more honest conversations much, much earlier on. No 3D chess, no extreme clownery in attempting deception, just an honest attempt to right past wrongs and make the future a brighter one.

But Dream doesn’t understand what’s going on. He doesn’t know why Sam and Quackity are acting different, or why everyone else is suddenly speaking to his motionless body in soft, faux-cheery voices, or why — anything is happening. Hell, he doesn’t even know why he can’t move! Nobody has these conversations in front of him — it doesn’t feel appropriate — so he’s left to assume the worst.

Dream is given comfort. Plenty of it, actually. He’s settled in a plushy bed and surrounded by pillows and also Sam, he’s bathed twice and fed good food through a tube thrice a day, and even though nobody’s aware that he’s still conscious they often come by and sit with him, either to talk to his “unconscious” body, or to lie next to him and cuddle a bit (Sam in particular will spend hours grooming his hair), or just to sit there and read in silence. Everyone is trying to make sure he’s as cozy as possible, even if he can’t actually recognize any of it.

But slowly — and starting about a month or two later, Dream begins to regain some sense of mobility.

First it’s his eyes. Then his fingers and toes. Eventually he can sit up, stumble across the room, move — and nobody knows, because he always waits until they’re gone to practice it.

One day he moves to escape. It’s way before it should logically be, sure, but — it’s Dream. He’s stupid. And so he stumbles, and he almost falls, and he somehow manages to get out of the community house before someone sees him and shouts his name — at which point he tries to run, fails, falls flat on his face twice and yet somehow manages to scramble up the nearest tree before anyone can reach him.

What follows looks like something out of a Looney Tunes script. Dream is stuck in a tree, trying desperately to look intimidating while dressed in a hospital gown, battered to bits, and visibly shivering so violently that everyone below is panicking and trying to make sure they’re in position to catch him if/when he falls. They’re tripping over one another. Half of them are trying to appease him (“Yes, I’m scared! I surrender!” “You win, Dream! You’re the strongest here, there’s no beating you!” “Please just come down so we can discuss terms?”) and the other half is screaming at him for being an absolute moron (“Dream you come down here right now or so help me —” “You fucking idiot, get down here so I can kick your ass!”).

Eventually Quackity announces that he’s coming up. Dream screams “No” so loudly that everyone kind of freezes. Quackity listens. Dream doesn’t expect that, but he does.

The standoff continues into the night. People are taking shifts. They’re trying to lure him down with food. Bad talks about how tasty this rabbit stew is, and loudly bemoans that there’s nobody to share it with. Dream is starting to doze off and Sam calls up to say that if he’s tired he can come down and they’ll all go to bed. Nothing works.

Eventually Dream tries to make a break for it. He trips and falls flat on his face before he can take three steps. He’s caught immediately, and just — gives up. He’s so tired, and there’s nothing he can do. He starts crying.

Sam carries him inside. He’s cold and shivering: hospital gowns are shit at heat retention, and he was out there all night. It might have rained, even. He’s settled down back in his bed, and expects the worst — but nothing bad happens. He’s fussed over, and cooed at, and cuddled by someone desperate to warm him back up to a reasonable temperature. Someone wipes away his tears and kisses him on the forehead. He’s fed soup, able to swallow on his own for the first time in months. He tastes it. It’s good.

:(((((( this oneee :(( what the heckkkk this one’s even more confusing for himmmm 😭

but it’s super interesting coz i feel like i’m this one he’d learn about the limbos so much faster? unless of course they only visit him in small groups? maybe for the sake of the storyline they all just conveniently don’t talk about the limbos around him? just coz they’re more focused on him?

(more belowwww)

🦙🦙🦙…

it would be so scary for him to not know why he can’t move :(( but also very in character for him to only try to help himself recover while no one’s in the room. still planning an escaping even though everyone’s being nice to him coz it’s just. too. suspicious.

THIS TREE CHASE WHAT THE HECK THATS SO CUTE LITTLE DWEAM clinging to a tree branch in his hospital gown with goosebumps and knees knocking :((( what the heckkkkk 😭 and everyone actually listening to him for once and just trying to get him to come to them this time??

his stumbly scurries make my heart ache 😖 omg,, but they take him back to his blankets and wrap him up so tight and soothe and comfort him and give him SOUP. eventually someone manages to ask him how he managed to regain his strength and for how long? i feel like it could be extra heartbreaking if he goes non-verbal during this. just too scared and confused and helpless-feeling to feel comfortable opening up yet :((

but then you get all these cute acts where people are trying to gently explain what has happened to him, while also trying to get him to respond ☹️

🦙🦙🦙…

#llama asks #soup the destroyer #Soups Locked-In AU

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aishangotome · 16 days

Text

Main Story Chapter 15-05: A Murder (一次謀殺) | Light and Night 光與夜之戀

Please consider reading Chapter 15-03 before you proceed

In the coming days, I spent all my time helping Sariel pack and clean up his office.

You: Sariel, can I have this ruler?

Sariel: Yes.

You: You didn't finish using the rest of this notebook, do you still want it? If not, then I'm also going to take it with me.

Sariel: Okay.

You: This pen holder, can I---

Sariel: You're the one who brought me this pen holder.

I glanced at the tender silk and color of the pen holder, then smiled with embarrassment.

You: Oh yeah, I forgot.

Sariel finished taping up a cardboard box and stood up.

Sariel: Has nobody asked you why your desk turned into a recycling bin these past few days?

You: Nope. However, somebody did borrow a pencil that you've used before and said they wanted to get lucky from it.

Sariel: How unreasonable.

You: I'm going to put these things back at my desk first, and then I'll come back.

Sariel gave me a nod. I was hugging a big box of items close to my chest and walked unsteadily outside the office.

Sariel: Are you sure you can go back like this? You---

As soon as he stopped talking, my toes kicked something hard on the ground. Fortunately, my other foot took a step forward, barely stabilizing myself.

*KADA, KADA -- DING!* The sound came from something that seemed to have rolled to my feet. I lowered my head to see what I had tripped over, and suddenly felt a chill come over me.

It was the crane flower that was originally on his door.

The dirt was splattered all over the ground. The pot didn't shatter, but I was unsure if it had any cracks. The most heartbreaking thing was that the lush, oily leaves and branches were broken, all from me stepping on it.

You: Oh no!

I quickly crouched down and picked up the fallen leaves. But no matter how much I fiddled with them, the leaves continued to droop downwards.

You: Sariel, what should we do?

Sariel also crouched down beside me. He carefully examined the leaves and broken parts of the plant, then shook his head.

Sariel: These leaves are already dead.

You: It's all my fault, is there really nothing we can do to save it?

Sariel: Cut off the dead leaves. Perhaps new ones will grow in place of them.

He turned around as his gaze stopped on my face.

Sariel: Something as small as this can cause you this much distress?

You: The flower pot has a drawing of me on it, of course I want it to continue being displayed here.

Sariel rubbed his forehead, and I thought he was about to say something like "This is a drawing of a bird, not you."

But he didn't. Instead, he simply stared at the drawings of a few birds on the flower pot for awhile.

Afterwards, he bent down and picked up the flower pot with the plant, placing it back on his desk. Specks of dirt scattered along the edge of his clothes, leaving some stain marks behind.

I curiously watched as Sariel's slender hands touched the fallen leaves.

Slowly, very slowly... he finally removed his hand.

The stem stood upright for a second before promptly returning to its' drooping posture.

You: It really can't be helped.

You: Forget it, I'll use scissors to trim the leaves so I can use them as bookmarks then.

You: Embrace change, this is what Director Qi personally taught me.

I noticed that he let out a smell, gentle smile, but he did not respond to my remark. He remained lost in thought, staring at the flower pot.

You: Director Qi? Sariel?

I waved my hand in front of his eyes.

Sariel: I heard you.

Sariel: There's no need to fix it right now. Let's transplant them to the garden first and see what we can do.

I nodded in understanding. Perhaps the garden would aid in its' recovery.

Sariel: As for the flower pot, it can be used to grow a different plant.

You: Can I choose the plant?

Sariel: Once you choose one, you have to grow it yourself.

You: Deal!

I picked up a stack of discarded paper and tape and quickly fixed the potted plant, then looked around and discovered that this was the last item in the office to be put away.

I was speechless for a moment as I stared into the empty room.

Sariel was also taking in the same image as the sunlight came in from the window and casted a glow on his hair.

Sariel: Let's go.

You: Okay.

As I followed Sariel out the door, I quietly waved my hand at the empty room in the last few seconds before the door closed.

The large desk, the sofa that we would nap on, the door that I had knocked on countless times before, as well as the sunlight that casts on his shoulders- thank you, and goodbye.

The weather had turned hot as summer arrived, I thought to myself as I placed a cardboard box in front of Sariel's front door.

Sariel had said that he didn't need help with this part.

I told him that "If I knew that I couldn't follow you home, I wouldn't be able to help myself chasing after your car and run 800 meters to see you off."

The familiar figure in the distance parked his car and walked over. As he was approaching, I noticed a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

At the same time, I noticed that he was still wearing his coat and dress shirt.

You: Sariel, do you have a habit of checking the weather each day before heading out?

Sariel: No, and there is no need to.

You: No wonder you are wearing so many layers, today is the hottest day of the season.

Sariel: I've always dressed like this.

You: Now that you mention it... I guess that's true.

He had always been reluctant to put on or remove clothing, unless it was the peak of winter or during scorching summers. Only then would he change his outfit to blend in with the crowd.

No matter how calm one's mind is or how strong one's physique is, the body should still have a limit on how much it can take.

I watched as Sariel pulled at his neck collar and sighed to myself.

You: If you want to unbutton the neck collar, you don't have to mind me.

You: We aren't in office right now, so it should be fine.

Sariel's hand paused for a moment, but the expression on his face did not seem troubled. Instead, it was as if this thought had never occurred to him before.

His expression was so funny that I couldn't hold my laughter in.

Sariel's expression suddenly turned serious. He glanced at me angrily and turned to entered his house.

And that is how I ended up in the current situation.

I sat beside him, watching him wipe the dust off a non-working fan that he found from the basement, completely ignoring my presence.

You: Sariel, I'm really sorry.

You: I know that even though you've left Wan Zhen, you are still my mentor, and I should still respect you.

Sariel: If you say one more word then you can clean this yourself.

You: Okay I won't say anymore.

I pulled an invisible zipper across my lips and went to tease the little gecko near me instead. He was leaning comfortably against the window, humming to himself.

It had been quite awhile since I've last visited Sariel's house. The little gecko's tropical residence seemed to have undergone an expansion, with more plants and flowers scattered around.

That's right, I know his real name now. His name was Qi She.

You: Qi She, since you can transform into a little dragon, and you can transform into a human, don't you feel uncomfortable living in this tank?

Qi She: I'm not sure why either, but I really enjoy living here. There is a sense of safety, and it looks so pretty.

Qi She: Plus, ever since the time I pretended.... uh, I mean ever since I accompanied Sariel to drop off your medicine, there seems to be more things as the weeks go by.

Qi She: Look at this area. This decoration is something that everyone would envy.

You: This is only right, patients should certainly have privileges.

Qi She: Patient... oh, right. But you definitely shouldn't give me any special treatment, you should reserve the special treatment for that patient.

He picked up his little arm and pointed towards Sariel.

Qi She: We should stop talking here, miss. He'll get jealous again, you should go back now.

As I was banished by the little gecko, I had to return to where I came from. Just as I took a few steps, he spoke up again.

Qi She: Oh yeah, when the fan is fixed, can you bring it to me so I can feel the cool breeze?

You: Of course I can.

I returned to where Sariel was and sat down beside him. He was still cleaning off the leaves of the plant, with a slight frown on his face. The fingers that were typically kept clean were now a bit dirty and rough.

It was so quiet around the house that I instinctively wanted to make a noise. Even if we weren't speaking, any noise would've been good.

The first melody that popped into my mind was the one that the little gecko had just hummed. I only listened to it for a little bit, but I seemed to remember it.

I couldn't remember the lyrics to the song as it sounded like some ancient poem, but the melody was exceptionally pleasant to listen to.

You: hm~ hm~ hmhm~ hm~~~

Sariel: Who taught you this melody?

I pointed at my lips, reminding him that I had been silenced by him. Sariel let out a sigh.

Sariel: Speak.

You: Qi She was humming it, so I am just copying him.

Sariel did not show any displeasure, so I presumed that he liked listening to it. I had liked it very much as well. The melody seemed to carry a sort of magic, letting those who listened to it feel more calm and at peace.

Qi She: But I didn't hum this much of the melody earlier. I only hummed a few notes.

Qi She: Miss, you are so creative, but I don't think Sariel likes to listen to this song.

The little gecko didn't finish his sentence before closing his mouth as if he thought of something.

You: Oh, Sariel doesn't like listening to it?

Sariel: That's not it.

As soon as I spoke, he had cut in immediately, ending the conversation. He continued to clean the leaves and gently put them aside.

I looked at Sariel, and then at the little gecko, confused as to what was true. But since Sariel says it wasn't true, then I guess it wasn't.

You: As I was saying, it's such a nice melody.

The little gecko turned over, exposing his belly to the sky, as if he was remembering something.

Qi She: That is true, but that is still not the best melody.

Qi She: It requires some musical instruments and a few more vocal parts to make it better. This song was originally written with these additions.

You: Little gecko, I didn't know that you were also a musician!

Qi She: I'm clueless about music, it's Sariel and---

*DANG* I heard a small sound behind me. I quickly turned my head around and was met with a crimson red color.

Sariel's right finger had a cut and blood was seeping out of it. It must've come from the blades of the fan when he was trying to fix it.

He only stared at the wound without moving, as if something else was on his mind.

Why is he so out of it today, I thought to myself.

You: Sariel, where is your first aid kit?

Sariel: I don't have one.

You: What?

Sariel: I don't have that kind of stuff at home.

You: What about Band-Aids? Or medical gauze?

Sariel: I don't have them. Don't worry about it.

You: How could we not? The blade that cut you had so much dust on it. At the very least, we need to disinfect it.

Fortunately, I found a bottle of iodine and clean cotton pads. I placed the two items on the table.

Sariel: How annoying.

Although he said that, he still opened the bottle of iodine with one hand, using the force of his index finger and thumb.

There were no cotton swabs, so he took a the cotton pad and dipped it into the bottle, then pressed it against his wound.

After that, relying on his left hand and the two fingers on his right hand, he skillfully wrapped up the wound with a piece of cloth.

Sariel: Are you satisfied now?

You: Yes, I'm satisfied.

Sariel: Don't overreact like this next time.

You: Next time, you should have a first aid kit at home.

I sighed.

You: On the first day of quitting a job, luck is usually not very good. This is what metaphysics teaches.

Sariel: That is called superstition, not metaphysics.

I pulled on his sleeves.

You: Maybe it would be better to check out the basement.

Sariel: What are we going to the basement for?

You: To see if the flowers have bloomed. If they have, then we need to transfer them to the garden.

Sariel: Right now is not their blooming season.

I don't know if I was looking too much into it, but Sariel's expression seemed to show acceptance, a bit of longing, and also a bit of sadness.

The same wide and ancient looking basement. The same windows, mountain scenery, clouds, and blue skies.

And the same two people standing in front of the windows.

Except this time, the flowers did not bloom.

It was already golden hour time when I left Sariel's house. I turned back and looked at the character "Qi," imprinted on the wooden sign at his door.

The first time I came, this place looked like a mysterious forest. Now, it just looked like an ordinary house.

You: Ordinary...

I stood still at that spot.

I had finally realized why I had felt a sense of unease all day.

The leaves that could not be saved, eating more, a thin layer of sweat, and a wound that would not stop bleeding---

This version of Sariel was just like a normal human, a real human being.

You: Am I just overthinking it?

You: In the past... it's not like he was that unordinary though.

Sariel stood by the window, staring at the flowers that were planted right outside. "Can you guys bloom now?" he asked in his heart.

But he knew the answer as soon as he thought the question.

This was the tone that the girl would use. In the past, this is how she would urge the flowers to bloom, without them needing to say a word.

Sariel returned to the house and moved the crane flower to the garden, removing some dead leaves and roots.

Qi She: Sariel, this plant is already dead.

Sariel: I know, I just want to try planting it again.

Qi She: Do you really have no more powers at all? Not even a little bit?

Qi She: I have never heard of this being a result of degeneration.

Sariel: Me neither.

Qi She displayed a look of worry on his face, something that he couldn't do when he was in his gecko form.

Qi She: Even if that is the case, do you really still have to go to Lin Island? The security there has become particularly strict.

Sariel: I have to go no matter what.

Qi She: Forget it. It seems like your old friend will have to come help you one more time.

Sariel avoided his wound and washed the soil off the rest of his hands. He then took the fan that he had repaired and placed it on the top of the window next to the gecko's tank.

Sariel: Do not come with me. Stay home.

Staring at him with a dumbfounded expression, the first thing that came to his mind was---

Qi She: So you really were eavesdropping when I was talking to the girl!

In the quarterly news that was sent out last Thursday, there were a list of names who passed the assessment and would be participating in the promotion ceremony. Among the list was my name. The office was filled with warm sounds of "congratulations" and teasing all around.

Perhaps it was because I had already known about this awhile ago that I did not have a reaction when I first saw my name. But while the initial joy had passed, pressure soon arose.

Sometimes, I'd wonder if I could really handle the work of being an Intermediate Designer, such as leading a team. Then I would remember the responsibilities of being a brand manager and realized that just being an Intermediate Designer would probably not be enough.

Time quickly passed by as I sat with the emotions of joy and anxiety.

Ever since I lost all contact with Charlie, I had developed a habit of checking various news outlets every day.

One week, then two weeks, and there was still no contact. No news on anything related to the case.

It has been awhile since Charlie last contacted me. I know he had several other businesses, but I never tried to look for him either.

I no longer believed that I could escape that snake-like gaze. I was not strong enough. All I could do was protect myself and not become somebody else's weakness.

The only place I've been to that was related to Charlie would be the hospital. I had asked Doctor He for a key to Charlie's office so that I could occasionally visit and spend some time in there.

I would tear off the past days on his calendar, so that it would be up to date when he returned.

A few more days had passed, and it was time to find out the results of the lottery ticket that Charlie had helped choose the numbers for. This was also a day that I had been waiting for. This ticket was one of the few things left between us.

You: We actually won $100!

Looking at the redemption rules, it seemed that there were only 3 days to redeem the prize. I had no other choice than to go claim it first.

You: Winning a lottery prize is such a rare thing, but Charlie can't even come to claim the prize. It seems that he is a little unlucky.

As I was mumbling to myself, I couldn't help but to smile. I could already imagine Charlie's face, stubbornly refusing to admit it.

After redeeming the prize at the lottery kiosk, the shop owner suggested that I use the prize money to exchange for another lottery ticket to continue my winning streak. I declined and opted for a check instead.

This way, Charlie would have something to keep as a memento. I carefully put the check into a separate compartment in my wallet so as to prevent it from being mixed in with the other bills.

It was at this moment that I felt something tug at the corner of my shirt. I looked over and saw a young child standing there, holding a bouquet of multi-colored roses in his arms.

He raised his head and handed the bouquet over to me.

You: ?

Child: An uncle wearing sunglasses told me to give this to you.

You: Uncle?

Child: Yes. He told me to give it to the Miss standing at the lottery counter, and said she was the most compatible person for him.

Why did this phrase sound so familiar. I looked at the child and let out a smile.

You: Then, how did you find me?

Child: Because you are the only Miss here. Everyone else is an Uncle.

You: ... ...

I looked around me and saw that he was right. I received the bouquet of flowers and noticed a paper card, shaped like a heart, sticking out from the middle. The card had a sentence, written in script, and it also released a sweet fragrance into the air.

You: Ah...

It was Charlie! There was no question about it. It was his clumsy handwriting and the scent of cologne. Two things that I was familiar with.

Why did have to use this method to contact me all of a sudden? Could he have run into danger?!

I raised my head and wanted to ask the child where he met Charlie, but the child was already gone. I looked back at the card and noticed he had written the name of a nearby MRT station, along with the numbers 03046.

The station was not too far from here. I soon arrived, but did not see Charlie.

You: 03047... ... could it mean that we are meeting here at 3:47?

No, it couldn't be. The station would have already closed by then, and he could've just directly written it in a time format.

You: Could it be referring to the schedule of a specific train?

I found a staff member nearby and briefly asked them about it, but could not find any connections between the string of numbers and their train schedule.

You: What could these numbers be referring to... ...

??: Please come back again.

It was in that moment that I heard the sentence, spoken in a robotic voice, and I suddenly realized what it was.

You: Of course, the lockers!

A lot of new lockers had been placed in the MRT this year. It could easily be accessed by scanning a code with your own cell phone, then setting a password. After that, you could store your items in there for a period of time.

I turned towards the lockers and took a look at the lock. It had exactly 5 spots for the passcode.

I entered 03047 and suddenly heard a beep. The door to a locker opened, and two small, round objects appeared before me.

You: What is this?

I took them out and carefully examined then, before double checking the locker to make sure that there was nothing else inside.

The round objects were black, very thin, with small protrusions around the edges. It looked like it could be made of metal, but it didn't feel like metal.

I was puzzled and deep in thought when a message popped up on my phone.

Unknown (SMS): Fiancée, I need your help.

You (SMS): Charlie?!

Charlie (SMS): Inside the station's locker are two listening devices.

So they were listening devices after all. I was not familiar with these things and it was the first time I had seen something like it.

I quickly closed the locker door and walked to an empty corner of the station.

You (SMS): I already have them. What do you need me to do?

Charlie (SMS): Just like that? You don't have any questions for me?

You (SMS): Other questions... oh yeah, are you safe right now?

Charlie (SMS): I am very safe. But that's not what I'm talking about.

Charlie (SMS): You should have refused me first, and then tried to understand the situation before readily agreeing.

My fingers lingered on the keyboard. The tone that he used was very relaxed, but I still felt a sense of restlessness in them.

Idleness and rejection were two very different things.

I had a feeling that even if he was safe right now, the situation was probably not very good.

You (SMS): You've once said that you would ask me for help only when you had no other choice.

You (SMS): I also trust that you must have considered my safety before making this decision.

This time, it took a little while before Charlie sent another text back.

Charlie (SMS): Has anyone ever told you that you are starting to sound like me?

Charlie (SMS): So good at speaking, leaving the other person at a lost for words.

You (SMS): He who stays near ink is stained black.

*This is a poetic figure of speech in Chinese meaning that people are easily influenced by their surroundings and the companions they hang out with.

Charlie (SMS): My hair is a sterling silver, my eyes amethyst, my heart the color of ardent fire, so whatever colors it may be, it still wouldn't be black.

I could not help but to laugh as I stared at his response. My heart felt a little less anxious.

You (SMS): Tell me what you need me to do.

Charlie (SMS): Yes, ma'am.

Charlie (SMS): My father has been moving between hospitals recently, and his conversations with the higher ups will be very important.

Charlie (SMS): But he is very discreet, so I can't find an opportunity to get close to him. And now, with my identity, I cannot enter these places either.

Thus, the need for wiretapping is explained. And the best place to do this would be---

You (SMS): You want me to help you plant the listening device on your father?

You (SMS): But how would I do that?

Charlie (SMS): A suit. Remember you told him that you would make him a suit?

You (SMS): But would he still trust me now?

Charlie (SMS): I cannot be certain, which is why you need two listening devices.

Charlie (SMS): But I know that he WILL see you, and he will try the suit on in front of you.

You (SMS): How are you so sure?

Charlie (SMS): Because he is arrogant, and he uses his knowledge to manipulate others. Except, he is not the only one with this trick.

I stared at his message for a bit, and noticed that I could not imagine the tone he would be saying it in.

You (SMS): And then what?

Charlie (SMS): Then you leave it to me. Remember to delete this number and erase our history of messages. I will not be using this number again.

You (SMS): Wait... since you can text me, why didn't you just text me the station name and locker passcode?

Charlie (SMS): Because I feel that acting like a spy to deliver information would be more romantic.

Charlie (SMS): Also, I wanted to see you up close. There are a lot of people here, and two of the cameras are not working.

Charlie (SMS): Fiancée, your absent-mindedness and smile are still as adorable as ever.

I instantly raised my head and looked around, but only saw strangers everywhere.

I knew that Charlie must be close by. Although we could not talk face-to-face, this arrangement still made me feel calm and happy.

You (SMS): I will get this done. Also, the flowers are beautiful, but how could you still be buying such expensive flowers during this time?

Charlie (SMS): Tell me, were you happy when you saw the flowers?

You (SMS): Yes.

Charlie (SMS): Then the money was well spent.

You (SMS): What if I said I wasn't happy?

Charlie (SMS): Then you'd be lying, because I already saw you smile.

The screen showed that he was still in the chatroom. I felt like next message would tell me that he was going to leave soon. Instead of continuing the conversation, I reluctantly erased my message and replaced it with a reminder for him to stay safe.

At this moment, a broadcast came over the speaker saying that the station would experience a brief power outage, which would not affect the train operations. Everyone was asked to patiently wait for a few minutes, and all the lights flickered off.

Charlie (SMS): Fiancée, the electricity is out.

You (SMS): I've never heard of the train station having a power outage, could it be related to the fact that you are here right now?

Charlie (SMS): I know you think that I am extremely unlucky, but I feel quite the opposite. Do you want to guess why?

I looked to the side, and saw that the locker that was lit just now had also turned pitch black.

You (SMS): That's true. Good thing I was able to pick up the items you left for me before the power outage.

Charlie (SMS): You've only guessed correctly by 1/9999.

Then what was the 9998/9999? I waited for him to respond, but no text message came again.

What came was a burst of sweet and spicy aroma, along with the outline of a tall and familiar figure in the darkness.

I could not see his face under the dim light from the phone screen. I could only faintly discern that he seemed to have slimmed down in the same coat that he always wore. He was looking at me, his gaze filled with warmth.

He stood a little bit closer. Although I didn't have to, I couldn't help but to close my eyes. The sound of laughter came gently into my ears as I felt Charlie lean down and give me a hug.

Charlie (SMS): I've wanted to do this from the moment I saw you walk in earlier.

--The Chairman's Office of NOVATEN Pharmaceutical Group--

Before me sat Charlie's father. His face wore an expression of deep concern and sorrow, imitating the features of a caring father.

Zha Zhao Peng: I understand Charlie's personality too well. He must have some sort of misunderstanding and is stuck on something trivial.

Zha Zhao Peng: So Miss Y/N, if you hear any news about him, you must immediately tell me. Or at least help me persuade him.

Zha Zhao Peng: I don't want my son to inadvertently become a criminal.

Liar.

I held the cup of tea that he made me, but did not drink it. The residue in the cup seemed like a pool of thick, viscous poison.

It took me a week to make this suit, and then I had to go through Uncle Ji to schedule a meeting with Charlie's father.

As soon as he saw me, he asked if I knew the whereabouts of Charlie, or if I had heard from him. He said that nobody was able to contact him, making him extremely worried.

He said that the police were waiting for Charlie's testimony in regards to Sun Tai Zhong's case, and that if he did not go, there would be a risk of being wanted by the officials.

Liar. He was already wanted on the night of the incident, on that same evening. But I just nodded my head in response.

You: I will. I am also very worried about him.

Charlie's father let out a big sigh.

Zha Zhao Peng: This will make me less worried. After all, only you young'uns can best understand one another.

Zha Zhao Peng: Look at me, I almost forgot why you came to visit.

He patted the gift box that was sitting beside him.

Zha Zhao Peng: Do you mind if I try the suit on?

You: Of course not. It makes me so happy that you'd be willing to try it.

I watched him put on the suit jacket that I brought. When he saw the double padded buttons, he looked very pleased.

Zha Zhao Peng: You are a very talented designer. This is one of the best button designs I have ever seen.

You: You are too kind. Does it fit well?

Zha Zhao Peng: Extremely well.

Zha Zhao Peng: Since this is also a gift from Charlie, I think I should wear it more often to important events.

That's as good as it gets, I thought to myself.

You: I won't take up any more of your time then. You must be so busy with work.

I stood up and gave him a wave as he also stood up across from me.

Zha Zhao Peng: This is no bother at all. Let me have somebody drive you home.

You: No---

Zha Zhao Peng: I insist. Let me express my gratitude by doing this for you.

As he stood by the window, he watched a black sedan disappear from view. The corners of his mouth frowned as a cold smile flashed across his eyes.

He ran his fingers over the black buttons on the suit, pinched one in particular with a little force, and it fell onto his hand.

The button split open under his grip, emitting a crisp sound.

Zha Zhao Peng: Obvious trick.

??: Obvious trick.

While there was a hiss coming from the half-tuned signal, a voice began to emerge more clearly into Charlie's earpiece. Given the variation in it's volume, the transmission was likely coming from something near the junction of the suits' shoulder and his fathers' arm.

To create a better fit on the suit's upper portion, this part was purposely sewn to be stiffer, allowing a small space to insert a tiny object.

Charlie: You did amazing, fiancée.

The father would, as he had said, wear the suit gifted by his son to attend important events. Although he was suspicious, he was also extremely conceited, so conceited that--- Charlie lowered his eyes.

He could sense that the power outage at the station was no accident. He was not the only one being watched. This time, the other party did not detect the two-piece listening device... or did they?

He needed to be more careful, Charlie thought to himself. He leaned back against his chair and started to wonder how long he could rely on the brief embrace with her before they could meet again.

In the underground passage, dim yellow lights scattered the hallway, casting down on two shadows. Jesse was silently following a man.

The Lian Shan Association has different architectural styles around the world. This is based on local and cultural considerations, but the internal layout was essentially the same, and the headquarters were no exception.

When he was in France, Jesse had researched the blueprint of Lian Shan's building. He committed to memory every room in the layout, including the areas that were off limits.

He was confident in his own memories, and was sure that this narrow hallway they were walking in did not appear in any of the blueprints.

Jesse suddenly felt dizzy, causing him to abruptly halt his steps, the soles of his feet scraping along the floor with a sharp hiss.

Minister Jiang: Jesse, watch your step. There are a lot of bumpy spots here.

Jesse: I will, thanks.

He maintained his usual voice and tone, but a thin layer of sweat seeped out from his back. He knew that he did not crash into or hit anything. This was a consequence of controlling the soul of a living being.

Three days earlier, deep into the night, Lin Shan Association Secret Archives.

Administrator: Minister Wang, what are you still doing here so late? Why don't you turn on some lights? Do you need me to turn them on for you?

Minister Wang: No need, I'm about to head back.

Minister Wang nodded at the administrator and walked away with no expression. But after taking a few steps, his body began to sway and he fell against the wall. The administrator hurried forward to stabilize him.

Administrator: Are you okay?

Administrator: You're awake now. You fainted just now and really gave me a scare.

In an instant, consciousness returned to the body. Jesse coughed violently a few times, bending over and dry heaving. Trying to suppress his discomfort, he lifted his head and looked at the clock on the wall.

Jesse: Seven minutes... ...

He had burned the talisman paper in just seven minutes. This was the first time that he could not control a borrowed body and return its original place on time.

Learning incantations, using them repeatedly to build proficiency, this is the true path of spell cultivation. However, the more he used these forbidden techniques, the lower the effectiveness became.

Jesse clenched his palm tightly, trying to perform the same technique again, unable to muster any strength this time.

It was impossible to go through the data related to the solar eclipse project in the archive room this way. But the investigation was imminent, not only containing information about his father's past, but also---

He closed his eyes. In recent days, the scene from that night had become deeply rooted in his heart, waking him up in the middle of the night through nightmares countless times.

Lu Ting --- the leader of the Blood Clan, an important role in the solar eclipse plan. Why did he make a move against the girl?

He wanted to know too much, and there was only one way to find what he needed. In his pocket was something sharp, coming from the corner of a piece of folded paper.

Jesse took it out and stared at it for a long time, despite the room being dark.

And this was how he ended up here.

Yesterday, he had submitted a formal application to join the Lian Shan Association. Minister Jiang soon contacted him, hoping to meet in person. It was not difficult to guess that this topic would come up during the meeting.

Unknowingly, they had walked to the end of the hallway, facing a metallic wall.

On the wall were devices used to verify identification, which appeared out of place compared to the classical carvings adorning the wall.

Jesse: Minister Jiang, this place is...?

Minister Jiang: Oh right, this must be your first time here. This is one of the earlier offices used by the Lian Shan Association.

On the right side of the wall, a door that measured approximately two meters high had swung open. It might've not been two meters high, as Jesse felt that he had almost hit his head when passing through.

Upon entering the room, the image of the archive room and its' entirety came into view. There was a dome, three other stone walls, and numerous cabinets that formed around the perimeter, some of the yellow steel locks on them already rusting.

Minister Jiang: What do you think? It looks old right?

He pats Jesse's shoulder with a joking tone.

Minister Jiang: Now that you're here, can you help me see if there are any lingering ghosts or spirits in here?

Jesse: From what I can see, there is none.

Jesse: However, I did see the ghost of a middle-aged woman as we were walking down the hallway earlier.

Jesse: She was not malicious, and was just watching us in sorrow.

Minister Jiang's face changed slightly when he heard the words "middle-aged woman," but he quickly recovered and looked at Jesse with appreciation.

Jesse: Unless the soul is damaged during the extradition process, I am able to sense them.

Minister Jiang: Good, good. You really are from the Xia family. You have the same demeanor as your grandfather from when he was young.

Jesse looked at the Minister Jiang's hair, unsure of whether the shiny black color was natural or dyed. From his appearance, it didn't seem like he would have met Jesse's grandfather when he was young.

But he held the highest position in the Lian Shan Association, and according to the internal system, he did have a lot of experience.

As he was thinking about this, Minister Jiang already retracted his smile and walked over to a wooden table. He pulled out a chair and gestured for Jesse to sit down.

Minister Jiang: Jesse, you should have a few years of experience already from helping out the division in France, right?

Jesse: Yes. But I didn't do that much, I just occasionally went to help look at crime scenes.

Minister Jiang: How did it feel? Some crime scenes can be very terrifying.

Jesse: I am pretty indifferent to it. Perhaps I am naturally just more carefree.

He scratched the back of his head, revealing a somewhat embarrassed smile.

Minister Jiang: Young people... carefree is good, you have less worries.

He placed a form on the table, and Jesse recognized it as the application he had submitted. The column for stamping approval was blank, indicating that it had not been approved yet.

Minister Jiang: You said that you didn't do very much for the other division, but you're being too modest.

Minister Jiang: I've seen the reports from their department. Just by obtaining evidence from the deceased, you've helped crack many unsolved cases and avoided many wrongful convictions.

He was expecting a "however," but there was no "however" that came after the sentence. Jesse looked as if he had not realized this, and earnestly looked at Minister Jiang.

Jesse: Does this mean you are willing to approve my application?

Minister Jiang: For what reason would I be unwilling to at this point? I've even brought the stamp with me today.

He chuckled heartily, and then took out a stamp, placing it next to the application form.

Minister Jiang: At times like this, I wish that I had never met your grandfather, or that I at least did not get along with him.

Jesse: What do you mean?

Minister Jiang: Stop being so formal, just call me uncle.

Minister Jiang: You are my old friends grandson, so I have to consider this carefully and discuss with you the pros and cons of this job.

Minister Jiang: I'm sure you already understand the purpose behind Lian Shan Association's existence?

Jesse: I've attended several meetings and roughly understand that they intend to preserve the welfare of humanity, while hiding the presence of gifted people, or people with special abilities.

Minister Jiang: Correct. Do you have any questions about it? This is the time to ask them.

Jesse hesitated for a moment. He was judging whether the person in front of him was being sincere or simply testing him.

But from the sincere expression on Minister Jiang's face, he felt that they had already expected the questions that Jesse would ask, and had also prepared answers in advance for them.

Jesse: I do have one question. Why is our purpose to hide evidence of the gifted, instead of--

Minister Jiang: Coexistence.

Jesse: Or reduce evidence. If you are to look at the whole picture, this could be another method.

Minister Jiang casted a surprised glance at Jesse, then looked up at the towering dome.

Jesse followed his gaze, and only then did he notice the colors covering the wall paintings, with vaguely discernable figures wearing varied clothing and having somewhat different appearances.

Some humanoids were bound to a wooden frame, burned by flames, while others had their chest impaled by long spikes, and even more being beaten with sticks by several others wearing the same attire.

Minister Jiang: The paintings on this wall all depict historical events. You should be able to recognize at least one of them.

Jesse: Was this a witch hunt?

Minister Jiang: Some call it witch hunt, some call it witchcraft hysteria. Whatever the name, in essence, they all referred to the same thing.

Jesse: Uncle Jiang--- do you mean that their appearance is related to the groups of gifted people?

Minister Jiang: The lifespan of a human being is short, leaving only rumors behind, and the truth debatable.

Minister Jiang: However, one thing can be certain. This is related to humans perceiving those around them as "others" who do not belong to their own group.

Minister Jiang: For this reason, compatriots harbor mutual suspicion, impose punishments, and would even slaughter one another.

Minister Jiang: What you see now has been documented over the last thousands of years.

Minister Jiang: It is not easy for humans to believe in their own power. Breaking the rules are not as simple as repeating the same mistakes.

Jesse: And that is why concealment is the safest way to preserve life.

Minister Jiang: You could say that, yes.

Jesse: But this type of concealment will still have its' consequences.

Minister Jiang looked deeply at Jesse and did not immediately respond.

Jesse: They do not adhere to the rules of human society, even if they appear to be human.

Jesse: For example, if they use their powers to commit murder, they can also leave no traces at the crime scene, making it impossible to pursue criminal investigation and legal proceedings.

Minister Jiang: This is the responsibility of the Lian Shan Association. They are to provide a fair and reasonable explanation to the family of the victims.

Minister Jiang: We punish these individuals to the best of our ability-- let's call them human beings.

Jesse mulled over the phrase "to the best of our ability."

Minister Jiang: This is the most important point, that all of this has to be carried out in secret.

Minister Jiang: You should have discovered overseas that the Lian Shan Association can mobilize police and give them orders.

Minister Jiang: But ordinary people do not know much about our existence.

Minister Jiang: I heard that you've achieved quite a lot in the performing arts industry, so you should be used to being noticed and recognized, right?

The implication was that one could not adapt to working in the shadows, right? Jesse lowered his eyes, thinking about how to respond.

Jesse: You worry too much. Musical theatre is my passion, but it does not mean that I enjoy the feeling of being in the spotlight.

Jesse: I play these roles precisely because I do not want to expose myself in front of others.

Minister Jiang: Then have you fully considered the dangers of joining the Association?

Minister Jiang: You will not be able to resume your former lifestyle.

Minister Jiang: The most fundamental part of this is that after joining, whatever you encounter depends on your luck.

Jesse glanced over. To Minister Jiang, the youth in front of him began to show signs of hesitation.

Minister Jiang: This is not a small issue to be overlooked. You must consider it carefully.

Jesse: I've already---

I've already gotten used to it. Jesse stopped himself from blurting that out.

He would bear a heavy price, betting on a precarious future, past and present. He seemed to always do things this way.

However, there was nothing wrong with that. Instead, it made him feel more at peace. He smiled at Minister Jiang with the most sincere smile he'd shown up until this moment.

Jesse: Uncle Jiang, thank you for thinking about me, but I've made a decision already.

Jesse: I understand the risks you speak of, and I am ready to accept them.

Minister Jiang stared at Jesse's face, as if trying to find some trace of difficulty in it. After a moment, he let out a small sigh.

Minister Jiang: Your determination at such a young age truly makes me ashamed of my old self.

His tone was full of praise, but what followed was not what Jesse had expected. Minister Jiang did not continue discussing the application, but fell silent instead.

Is Lian Shan doubtful of its' own abilities? Or is was it too hard to believe in having too much determination?

Jesse carefully observed the man's expression and demeanor.

Jesse: Uncle Jiang, do you have any other concerns?

Minister Jiang: I am not worried about your abilities, but what may be needed to handle these cases may require more than just abilities.

Minister Jiang: I really want you to think about it a little more. I think letting you work on a case might give you a clearer picture of what to expect before making a decision.

Jesse: You mean...?

Minister Jiang: Before we officially approve your application, I want you to try handling a case first.

Jesse: I understand.

Jesse: On one hand, my ability can be tested. On the other, this will allow me to make a more informed decision.

Minister Jiang let out a sigh, absent-mindedly tapping his fingers on the table.

Minister Jiang: I'm glad you understand.

Minister Jiang: We happen to have a case right now. It is not too serious, but has sparked a lot of debate in society.

Minister Jiang: Most of the public opinion pertains to the supernatural, and if this continues, then there could be negative consequences.

Minister Jiang: The Association plans to take over the case from the police and resolve it as soon as possible. Your ability should come in handy.

Jesse: I will do my best. If everything goes smoothly and we close the case, could you be the one to stamp my application form?

Minister Jiang: Of course I can.

Minister Jiang smiled helplessly, took out a pen from his suit pocket, wrote an address on the back of the application form, and handed it to Jesse.

Minister Jiang: Young people nowadays... I'm advising you to consider it carefully for your own good, but it sounds like I'm deliberately trying to stop you.

Jesse: I'm sorry. I am just too excited at the prospect of potentially joining the Association.

Minister Jiang: Okay, then I won't take up any more of your time.

Minister Jiang: You can begin by heading to the police station.

Minister Jiang: They've already obtained some preliminary evidence, and the victim's body has also been placed there.

Minister Jiang: I will give them a heads up and ensure that they cooperate with your investigation.

Jesse arrived at the lobby of the police station, but nobody paid much attention to him. The policeman brushed past him hurriedly, leaving behind only fragments of their conversations.

They were about to pick up a suspect, which seemed to be a significant step in the case, but it was more important for Jesse to examine Sun Tai Zhong's corpse at this time.

He smiled as he approached the consultation desk.

Lying in bed, I held my phone up high, swiping through a news story.

You: The case is under investigation, and the results will be reported to all citizens who are waiting for official information.

This was the official statement from the authorities, but it contained nothing else that was noteworthy. There was still no mention of the warrant for Charlie, which probably meant that he was right about this being the work of his father's.

*Ding Dong* -- The doorbell rang.

??: Is anybody home?

When I looked through the peephole, there were two men standing there. They were both wearing navy uniforms, with badges on their hats.

You: Is there something I can help you with?

Officer A: Hello, I will explain.

Officer A: Recently, we have been handling a case in Guangqi City in relation to the First Union Hospital.

Officer A: There was a witness who testified that you had entered the hospital building during that incident.

Officer A: Because of this, I hope you can come to the police station to make a statement and help us with the investigation.

He took out an identification card from the pocket of his jacket, showing his photo on it, along with the words "Police Building Security Identification."

My heart clenched tightly. The events that happened that night could not be explained easily in just a few words. Even if I told them the whole truth, they would definitely not believe things like "illusions" or the like.

Officer A: Miss Y/N, are you listening? If you have any concerns, please don't hesitate to speak up.

He moved a bit closer to the peephole, his expression not stern at all.

Officer A: Normally, you should be able to choose where you want to give your statement. But due to the unique circumstances of this case, we had to arrange for it to take place at the station. I hope you can understand.

Officer A: If you have concerns, you may first contact a lawyer before deciding what to do next.

It was just for a statement. If I didn't go, it would only complicate things.

You: Okay, I understand.

I was sitting alone in the interrogation room, the surrounding air freezing cold, and the one-way glass window isolating me from the outside world. The two police officers who had brought me here had already left.

The door suddenly opened, and an older police office walked in. He sat across from me without looking at my face, opened the folder in his hand, and turned towards me.

Older Officer: This is your name and other personal information, correct?

Older Officer: Last Saturday at 7PM, you and another male figure visited the First Union Hospital, is that correct?

You: I don't remember the time, but I did go to the First Union Hospital.

Older Officer: Who was the man with you?

You: He is one of my friends.

Older Officer: His name is Charlie, correct?

Briefly hesitating, I nodded. After all, withholding too much information might only arouse more suspicion.

Older Officer: Why did you guys go to the hospital? What did you guys do during the time you were there?

You: We were looking for someone, but did not end up finding them, so we just left.

This was not entirely true. My palms were starting to sweat. This is not a place where I should have been lying.

However, I really could not discern between what was part of the illusion and what was reality. Also Charlie... these "illusions" should not be used as evidence against him, so I could not talk about it.

Older Officer: Who were you looking for?

You: Zha Zhao Peng.

Older Officer: Were you and the man working together?

You: No.

Older Officer: Have you seen this pair of medical scissors before?

He pushed a photo in front of me, displaying a pair of blood-stained medical scissors packed in an evidence bag.

You: I have seen medical scissors before, but they all look the same. So I can't confirm if I've seen this particular pair before.

Older Officer: During your time at the hospital, did Charlie see Sun Tai Zhong?

You: I am not sure.

This was the first time he had looked up and glanced at me. His eyes betrayed no emotion, yet I was feeling apprehensive.

Older Officer: You are not sure, not "no" or "I don't know," why?

You: Not being sure is the same meaning as "I don't know."

Older Officer: There is a big difference between those two phrases.

Older Officer: I hope you can be more honest with me. What did Charlie do in the hospital?

You: I already told you. He was looking for his father but could not find him, and I don't know about anything else.

Older Officer: Okay.

He closed the folder, stood up, as if done with the interrogation.

You: Am I allowed to leave now?

Older Officer: I'm afraid not.

Older Officer: Miss Y/N, through the interrogation just now, we have already confirmed that you are suspected of criminal activity, so we need to detain you.

Older Officer: If you intend to change your testimony, you can inform a personnel at any time.

A glaring white light filled the entire room, so I held up my hands to shield my eyes instinctively. In a brief moment of emptiness in my vision, I heard the sound of a door closing.

I'm suspected of criminal activity? How could he make such a judgement just by asking a few questions?

I had not processed the information yet, but a strong sense of panic began to rise in my heart.

How long would they detain me for? Would I have to stay here until I "changed my testimony?"

I sat there, dumbfounded, for I don't know how long. At some point, I realized that I wasn't restricted to the chair, so I stood up and paced around the room.

You: I have been telling the truth. I really don't know what happened that night.

You: How could you guys decide that I am a criminal suspect so easily? How long do you guys plan to keep me here?

I stood in front of the one-way glass, talking incessantly, but only my own voice could be heard. In the solitude of that empty room, the flow of time became unclear.

I could feel that somebody on the other side of the mirror was looking at me, but only chose to remain silent.

Who would notice that I was missing? Before I left home, I didn't send messages to anyone. Today is Saturday, and I have work on Monday. Would my colleagues notice that I was missing?

Unsure if it was my own delusion, but the light seemed to be getting brighter, and my nerves began to tingle in pain.

My chest was filled with two conflicting emotions, feeling so restless to the point that I had wanted to break open the door with something, but also so terrified to the point that I wanted to kneel down on the ground and cry.

You: Is there anyone outside!

There was still no response.

I took a few steps backwards until I was far away from the glass window and closed my eyes, but the lights would still shine through, making me feel like I was constantly being watched.

*BANG* The door suddenly opened with a force, hitting the wall. It wasn't actually loud, but to me, it sounded like a clap of thunder.

A black shadow loomed outside the door.

I opened my eyes wide in fear. There was a figure standing in the shadows.

The figure was tall, with a slender and straight posture, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and draped in a black vest.

I immediately seized the opportunity and rushed to the door.

You: Please listen to me. I did not commit a crime, there must be some misunderstanding!

Running too fast in a panic, I almost stepped on the stranger's foot, but the person did not move.

You: I'm sorry.

I looked up and then saw his face, making me freeze in place for a moment.

The hat was too big on him, covering more than half his forehead, revealing only a few strands of orange bangs.

The outline of his face was round, but the lower jaw was sharp and angular.

The pair of eyes that I was so familiar with were now a deep green at this moment, as if countless thoughts were flowing through them, too quickly for me to distinguish. Only one word came out of my mouth.

You: Tangyuan...*Reminder: Tangyuan is MC's nickname for Jesse.

??: What are you doing? Go sit back down!

A terrifying voice sounded, and only then did I notice that Jesse was standing in between the two officers who had brought me here earlier.

When they came to pick me up earlier, they were very friendly, but now they seemed to have changed their demeanor.

You: I really did not do anything!

You: No matter what, can you please release me first? I am willing to continue cooperating with your investigation.

Officer A: You are currently a criminal suspect, what makes you think you can make requests? Sit back down.

He stepped forward and gestured as if to push me back into the interrogation room.

*SNAP* As soon as the officer moved, Jesse grasped his arm with a snap.

He applied more strength, knuckles turning white. Unsure of when this happened, he had taken my other hand, which was lightly trembling.

Jesse: Do not touch her.

Officer A: What is the meaning of this? Weren't you the one who said you wanted to see the suspect and interrogate them some more?

Jesse: And I've seen them.

Jesse: This case is now under Lian Shan Association's jurisdiction. I want to take her with me.

Officer A: You can't take her just because you say you want to. She is a suspect of this case.

Jesse: And I will take her with me now.

Officer A: No, I already told you, the suspect needs to stay here---

He didn't finish speaking, because Jesse's expression had turned extremely terrifying at the mention of her name and "suspect" together.

He clenched his left fist, with a reddish hue emerging around his joints, and the veins on his arm bulging out. Even with shallow breathing, each breath seemed to pulsate vigorously.

Jesse: She would never hurt anyone for as long as she lives.

Jesse: What are you doing locking her up in this room? What are you trying to make her say?

His hand grasped mine tighter and tighter. I wanted to reach out and help him loosen the grip, telling him that it's okay and to not start a conflict.

But he firmly held onto my hand, keeping me close to him, leaving me hardly any room to move.

??: Stop! Stop! Stop!

Just then, the other officer who had been silent this whole time, made a pause gesture, standing between the two men, and let out a nervous laugh.

Officer B: What are you guys doing? Do you want to fight here and have others laugh at you? Don't be so silly.

Officer B: This representative of Lian Shan Association---

Officer B: There might have been a misunderstanding in relation to this case, but we really do not have the authority to let her go.

Officer B: How about this? You take her to the nearby lounge to rest for a bit, and we will figure this out right away.

He took out a key and held it in front of us, with an earnest look on his face.

Jesse did not take the key right away. The corner of his eye still retained a hint of red, as if the anger were still there.

However, we were dealing with police officers after all. It would not do us any good to go against them, so I gently tugged at Jesse's sleeve.

You: Tangyuan, I am a little bit tired, and I don't have the energy to move right now. How about we go sit down for a bit?

Jesse turned back, the stern look in his eyes slightly softening as he nodded.

Jesse: Okay.

Jesse turned off the lights in the lounge and drew the curtains, creating a dim space. The only thing shining in the room were his eyes.

I sat on the sofa, with two cushions behind me, my whole body almost sinking into them.

Looking at the clock on the wall, I noticed that it had been four hours since I left home.

I stretched my legs to get up. Jesse, who was originally leaning against the wall, saw this and stood up at once.

Jesse: Hey, don't move. What do you need?

You: I am just a little bit thirsty so I wanted to pour myself a cup of water.

Jesse: Just let me know, I will go pour it for you.

He walked up to the water dispenser and pulled out a stack of paper cups from the drawer below. He did not use the cup at the top of the stack, but took one from the middle instead.

Jesse handed me the warm cup of water, enough to warm up my palms.

Jesse: Here you go.

You: Thanks, you should also quickly---

--Sit down. Before I could finish speaking, he suddenly remembered something, ran to the corner of the room, and moved a bench over.

Jesse: Would you like to try putting your legs on here? It might be more comfortable.

You: I am really okay. Why are you trying to cheer me up as if I were a child?

Jesse: It would be great if you were a child. Then I would be able to watch you all the time.

Jesse: And you wouldn't have had to be detained here for four hours.

You: It's just four hours, not too bad, not too bad...

He made a frustrated expression and was about to say something. However, I noticed the brim of his hat had somehow tilted to one side, so I waved my hands in front of him.

Jesse: What's wrong?

You: Tilt your head this way.

Jesse obediently tilted his head towards me. I adjusted the hat for him, and at the same time, used my fingers to tidy up his messy hair.

Jesse: What exactly happened? How did you end up at the police station? Did they do anything else to you?

One after another, more and more questions came to Jesse's mind, making him seemingly more urgent. I quickly reached out and pinched the corners of his mouth on both sides.

You: You have so many questions. I need to answer them one by one.

You: First, what happened... this one is a bit complicated. Can I tell you a short version of what happened?

Jesse: Absolutely not. You need to tell me the whole story, with every detail.

You: Okay, let me think about where to begin.

First Union Hospital. Sun Tai Zhong. I tried to extract as much information as possible from my chaotic memories.

At the beginning, Jesse just listened quietly. Halfway through the story, he took my wrist with his grip getting tighter and tighter, rubbing the skin and making it tense.

When I reached the part where I ended up at the police station, he finally relaxed a little.

Jesse: It's all my fault.

After a while, he didn't speak. When he did speak, it was still the same response. I shook my head vigorously.

You: It's not your fault. How could it be your fault?

Jesse: It is my fault.

Jesse: Every time you encounter danger, I'm not able to be by your side.

Jesse: Just like today. If only I had arrived earlier.

You: It's already timely, really. You don't know how relieved I am to see you. It's just like seeing a superhero.

Jesse: A superhero?

He repeated the word, eyelashes curling slightly, and then sighed deeply.

Jesse: All right. I am the orange hearted tangyuan, coming from the mochi planet just to rescue the princess.

Jesse: Luckily, your enemy isn't too strong so I was not too late.

Jesse: Then princess, are you feeling unwell anywhere?

You: Not at all.

Jesse: Really?

He stared into my face, gazing at me in a way that made my words feel uneasy.

You: Well, I guess my eyes are a little sore. I can just go home and apply a hot compress, then it will feel better after a little bit.

Jesse: Why do you need hot compresses? I can also do it for you.

Jesse reached out and gently covered my eyes with a piece of cloth. It seemed as if I had already anticipated his unpredictable movements, and I closed my eyes before he got too close.

His palms felt warm, and in front of me was a comforting darkness, almost making me forget that I also had questions for him.

You: Speaking of which, how did you end up here anyway? You said something about the case being transferred to some Lian Shan Association...

I seem to have heard this name somewhere before, but could not recall from where at the moment.

Jesse: Lian Shan Association is a government agency.

You: Government agency?

Jesse: They were established to handle extraordinary cases and matters that are usually confidential to the public.

You: Like a secret agent?

Jesse: Kind of.

You: And you---

Jesse: I've joined the association, and I am now in charge of Sun Tai Zhong's case.

You: But aren't you a musical theatre actor? And aren't you still studying?

Jesse: How do I put this... I guess it's like a side business. It just so happens that my abilities come in handy.

Jesse's palm suddenly began to sweat.

Jesse: Are you surprised?

You: Of course I am. Our tangyuan has really grown up.

A small sigh came from beside me, sounding like he was dissatisfied.

Jesse: Can we rephrase that?

Jesse: Such as, Jesse, I didn't expect you to be doing such cool things.

Of course. Not only this, I could say something that was a thousand or ten thousand times better, because it would be the truth.

I held his hand and felt the distinct outlines of his bones on the back of it.

You: Jesse, I didn't expect that you would be doing such cool things.

He did not respond immediately, and his fingers just moved awkwardly. I blinked.

You: What's wrong?

Jesse: Nothing. It's just... your eyelashes are making me itchy.

His voice was hoarse, and when I saw the light again, I was met with a pair of silky eyes, serene in color, but it seemed as though there were waves of flames surging on the inside.

I felt hot for a moment, the heat spreading to my face, so I quickly looked away.

The police officer did not lie. Two hours later, he came into the lounge and told us that he had consulted with his superiors, letting us know that we were now allowed to leave.

The one who saw us off at the police station was the chief himself. What surprised me even more was that he was the older officer who had interrogated me, and he introduced himself as Chief Liao.

Chief Lao and Jesse shook hands.

Chief Lao: This case is indeed complicated, and the inefficiency of the bureau is to blame. I deeply apologize for today.

Chief Lao: We will have to rely on the Lian Shan Association to work hard for this case.

Jesse: No, Chief Lao, you have already handled the matter with much diligence.

Jesse's eyes and mouth corners drooped, but his gaze was sharp, piercing straight towards Chief Liao.

Jesse: So diligent that you'd use methods such as illegally detaining tactics.

Chief Liao seemed to have been caught off guard by Jesse's response and took a brief pause. He let go of the hand that was holding onto Jesse's.

Chief Liao: We will do better in this area in the future.

Jesse: Then we'll be off.

Chief Liao: Please stay a moment.

Chief Liao sighed deeply. His majestic and indifferent expression seemed to be cracking.

Chief Liao: I deeply regret what happened to your father.

Did he know Jesse's father? I was a bit surprised and turned to look at Jesse's expression. He seemed just as puzzled as me.

Chief Liao: I've kept this in my heart for many years, and I can finally say it out loud now. I can consider it a burden released.

Jesse: You knew my father?

Chief Liao: Ten years ago, I was your father's supervisor. He called me big brother.

Chief Liao: Afterwards, he was transferred to Lian Shan Association, and I had less opportunities to meet with him.

Chief Liao: I don't believe the two of you recognize me.

His gaze paused on us for a moment. He said, "the two of you." Did this mean he had also seen me before?

I had no impression of him, and it seemed like Jesse obviously didn't either.

Chief Liao: It makes sense. He didn't like to talk about his work with children.

Jesse: It's all in the past. If my father were still alive, he probably wouldn't want to worry about an old acquaintance either.

Jesse nodded to Chief Liao in acknowledgement. As he turned away, I noticed from the corner of my eye that Chief Liao was still looking at us.

Can a person simultaneously experience deep concern and a sense of relief? This was the impression that Chief Liao gave me at the moment.

After being detained for almost half a day, I longed for sunshine and fresh air. I walked out of the police station and took a deep breath. Jesse didn't look at the road. Instead, he was looking at me.

You: Is there something on my face?

Jesse: There is nothing on your face. But you walk as if you're about to fly.

As he said this, he pulled onto my sleeves as if to stop me from leaving the ground.

You: I feel like I was just released from being in prison for ten years.

??: How long have we been following this case? We stayed up late every day, never taking a break.

??: The chief originally said that there was finally some progress, but now someone else gets to take the credit again.

These were familiar voices. It turned out to be the two police officers from earlier. It was lunchtime now, and they were standing beside an ashtray.

Officer B: The chief is an old acquaintance of his father, so of course he would give the case to him.

Officer A: So he can just ignore the rules? And do whatever he wants?

Officer B: Didn't he end up still going through the procedures before leaving? Just say less, okay?

They seemed to be chatting casually, not noticing when we walked out. But there was something in their conversation that made me uncomfortable.

☼ Light: Do not escalate the conflict, tolerate it for awhile

☾ Night: Confront them

☼ Light Choice: [Do not escalate the conflict, tolerate it for awhile] I really wanted to tell them to stop speculating about people that they did not understand. But Jesse's current job probably involves having to work with them at some point. I kept it in, suppressing the impulse to argue over what had already passed. To my surprise, when I looked up, I found Jesse standing next to the two officers. He whispered a few words to the two of them, and I watched as the helpless expression on one of the officers face shifted from hostility to embarrassment. You: What did he say... ? Jesse ran back to me, with the hem of his shirt fluttering with the wind, and bent his eyes towards me. You: Why are you smiling like that? Jesse: I told them that the decision to judge you is not theirs to make. Jesse: They said they were wrong and wanted to apologize to you, but they felt embarrassed so they told me to convey it to you. You: Let bygones be bygones. I was afraid that you would pick a fight with them. Jesse: Of course not. Now, you're safe and they won't bother you again. It's great.

☼ ☾ [Night Choice: Confront them] I secretly glanced at Jesse, whose expression remained unchanged. The implication that he was taking away their credit was more difficult to hear than me being accused of a crime. I strode forward, stood in front of the two officers, and stared at their faces. You: Excuse me, nobody wants to take credit from you. Everyone just wants to solve the case and catch the real culprit. You: Jes-- this Mr. Xia received the case and is the person in charge, which has nothing to do with his father. Jesse: You're right about one thing. My eyes opened wide as Jesse appeared next to me without me noticing. Jesse: At first, I was in a panic and did not act according to the rules. Jesse: However, this started with your violation of rules to begin with. If you apologize to her, then I will apologize to you, how about that? The two officers exchanged a glance, then look at me with an awkward expression on their faces. Officer B: Regarding what happened to you earlier, we realize that what we did was wrong. Our eagerness to solve this case got the better of us. We apologize. After speaking, the two officers turned and went back into the police station. Jesse looked at me and smiled. Jesse: And to think I was worried before. You said I was impulsive, but it seems you're no better than I. You: That's because... what they were saying had to do with you, so I couldn't help it. Jesse: I know. When it's related to you, I can't help it either.

☾

You: In the future, you need to pay attention and not be so reckless. What if you met a person who was narrow-minded and held a grudge against you?

You: Have you joined the Lian Shan Association for awhile now?

Jesse: It's not really considered joining yet. It's only official after I complete this case.

You: So you are a new "official" with a weak standing. Even more reason why you shouldn't be offending anyone.

Jesse: Okay, whatever the Miss says, I'll obey.

Jesse: Plus, I've already figured out which fire to put out first.

You: Is it this case?

He nodded.

You: Then how is your investigation coming along?

You: Since you can see souls, don't you just need to find Sun Tai Zhong's soul and ask him?

Jesse retracted his smile, his brows furrowing.

Jesse: That's what I thought too. But this time, I was not able to find his soul.

You: You couldn't find it?

Jesse: The soul of a recently deceased person should instinctively linger near their bodies.

Jesse: Sun Tai Zhong's corpse is stored in this police station, but there was no trace of his soul around.

Jesse: All I can do now is to investigate the area where the incident took place.

You: Is it possible that his soul has already been reincarnated?

Jesse: That is a possibility, yes.

Jesse hesitated for a moment, as if there was still something left unsaid. But he ultimately chose not to say it.

Suddenly, I thought of another possibility.

You: The solar eclipse project...

Jesse's shoulders trembled slightly, indicating that he was thinking about the same thing.

The last time we discussed this term was at Yang Yang's house. At that time, I didn't know how many people or years were centered around the eclipse project, or how many tragedies had resulted from it.

But now-- what was originally a feeling of peace, like a bubble, had now been effortlessly popped.

You: If the disappearance of his soul is related to the Solar Eclipse Project, then it would be even trickier to investigate the case.

Jesse: Mhm.

Did this mean that Jesse would have to use a formidable spell, just like the night he had faced off with Lu Ting? That's right. Lu Ting is from the Blood Clan.

Suddenly, a look of seriousness passed over Jesse's face. Following his gaze, not far from us was the symbol of a bright red cross.

The First Union Hospital was not too far from the police station. If we continued to walk along this route, we would reach it in no time.

The empty pair of eyes and the bleeding hand appeared in my mind once again. Before I could process the memory, the words had already left my mouth.

Since we're already here, let's go check out the scene together then.

Jesse seemed to have anticipated that I would make this suggestion and turned away his face.

Jesse: I knew you would say you wanted to go.

You: I know some information regarding the solar eclipse project now, so perhaps I could be of help.

You: Also, if you use those spells---

You: In case of physical exhaustion or the need to leave your body, there should always be someone watching over you nearby.

You: After considering it carefully, there is no better assistant for investigating this case than I.

I spoke as casually as possible. Jesse looked at me for a long time, closed his eyes for a moment, and seemed to have thought over many things by the time he opened them again.

Jesse: Yes. You are my best assistant.

We used to argue over whether we should go together or not. Afterwards, we had learned to compromise with each other many times.

As we walked towards the hospital, I couldn't help but to wonder if he recalled the same memories I did.

We went through the back door of the emergency department, climbed down a slightly damp staircase, walked along a long corridor, and finally reached the floor where the incident occurred.

There had been no progress in this case thus far, and the scene was well preserved, but the hospital would not be able to close this room off indefinitely.

Fortunately, this floor did not have any hospital rooms, only laboratories. Therefore, the staff had blocked off entrance to this floor, leaving only the emergency exit accessible to the public.

The on-duty officer seemed to already know that we were coming, so he placed the evidence he had into a folder before handing it to us and went back to do their own work.

As soon as we walked into the connecting hallway, I felt that it was darker than the other rooms and areas.

You: Have you heard the theory about how it was a ghost that committed the crime in this case?

Jesse: I have.

You: Can spirits actually cause harm to people?

Jesse: They cannot directly harm people, but they can possess physical substances and communicate in that way.

You: Physical substances?

Jesse: For example, a person's body, or a statue that has been revered by many, could both be used as as vessel.

Jesse: The evidence I saw only showed Sun Tai Zhong's fingerprints on the medical scissors that were used to kill him.

This is something that I had never heard of. Could it be that these weren't the scissors that Charlie had used? When he picked up the scissors, he definitely wasn't wearing a glove.

Jesse: Typically in such cases, we can suspect that the murderer may have wiped off their fingerprints, or wore gloves when handling the weapon.

Jesse: If a soul is involved...

You: Then is it possible that they possessed Sun Tai Zhong, causing him to commit suicide? Or perhaps they possessed the scissors and used it to stab him?

Jesse: The scissors do not contain the characteristics of having been possessed by a soul, and the conditions for an ordinary soul to attach itself to something is also very strict.

As we were discussing this, we had already arrived at the entrance of the laboratory. Jesse slowly opened the door.

Jesse: So we should first examine--

The moment the door opened, a gust of wind hit me, and the temperature in the room seemed to have dropped to a freezing point, chilling me to the bone.

Just as I was about to ask what was going on, a series of roars echoed in my ears, resonating on my nerves.

Almost simultaneously, Jesse reached out and covered my ears, blocking the sound from the outside.

Jesse: It's okay, everything will be okay soon.

The discomfort gradually dissipated, and the surrounding air and temperature returned to normal.

I raised my head while Jesse remained in his position, his eyes unusually bright.

In the laboratory, there were glass shards scattered all over the floor, with red liquid everywhere. On the ground was a white outline of a human figure, with a large pool of blood in the center of the outline.

Next to it read "Yu Da Academy," and the words "blood debt must be repaid in blood." It looked like they were written with blood, having turned into a black-brown color by this point.

Oddly, Jesse's gaze did not fall onto the writings on the ground. Instead, he gazed steadily in the middle of the air, as if there was a person conversing with him.

My heart trembled, and it suddenly felt like there were several extra gazes all fixed on me.

You: Jesse, are there really spirits in here? Why do I feel like... I'm being watched?

Jesse: Yes.

He raised his hand and waved it in front of us, as if asking for something, then let it fall after a moment's pause.

Jesse: In fact, there are a lot of them in here. I can't even count how many there are.

You: Are they talking to you?

Jesse: Yes.

You: What are they saying?

Jesse: They are demanding that we leave.

Although I didn't understand the world of spirits, they were still living, human beings at one point. Therefore, their words should hold the same meaning as the words we use and understand, so this could not be a good sign.

You: Can... you ask them why?

Jesse: Of course. After all, this is my line of work.

He made a complicated hand gesture with his fingers, murmuring something under his breath. He stopped halfway through his monologue.

He looked at me hesitantly.

Jesse: Does this make you uncomfortable? There are people in front of you, but you can't see them at all.

You: I don't feel uncomfortable, just a little weird.

You: However, I can deal with it. You focus on what you need to do and do not worry about me.

Jesse: What if I can allow you to see them?

You: You mean you can allow me to see the spirits?

Jesse: Not just spirits, but also incantations, symbols, and various clues.

Jesse: Anything I can see, you would also be able to see.

You: Then of course---

Of course I wanted to see.

This is what I had wanted to say, but this is not something to be taken lightly. Otherwise, why would Jesse hesitate so much? The answer came quickly.

Jesse: Not all of them look whole or beautiful.

Jesse: Some are very friendly, and some are scary. This time, it's more like the latter.

Whenever he feels complicated, his eyebrows tended to furrow together.

You: I want to see.

You: No matter whether it is good or bad, I want to see what you can see.

Jesse: Okay.

Jesse remained silent and locked eyes with me for awhile, then solemnly agreed. He took out a golden talisman from his pocket, bit his fingertip, and drew on it.

After finishing the drawing, he handed me the talisman. I smelled the faint scent of incense, mixed with a hint of blood.

Jesse: Close your eyes.

I did as he requested. After a few seconds, I could feel a warm fingertip touching my forehead, moving awkwardly.

It drew a circle, then an arc, seemingly the same pattern that was on the talisman.

I concentrated on the feeling, and felt Jesse's unstable breathing at the same time.

One horizontal stroke, a falling stroke, a vertical stroke... I easily recognized the many complex and intricate strokes as his name, Jesse.

The final touch gently burned onto my eyelids, before being released, leaving a lingering sensation.

Jesse: It's done.

I opened my eyes and began to see the world that Jesse lived in.

You can now read Chapter 15-07 here!

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theunquenchablethirst · 3 years

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Hooked (Jerome X Reader)

Ok, so this is a thing. I was kinda surprised nobody had used this scene yet, because the Gotham fandom seem to collectively agree that Jerome is BIG KINKY and yet the one scene where he canonically has people cuffed up and hung from the ceiling... nobody has touched??? Y'all have been sleeping on that scene! It's fanfic gold! Anyway, enjoy the hedonism. Much love xxx

Warning: SMUT, 18+, GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, BDSM, bondage, cuffs, dom/sub, vaginal fingering, oral sex, biting, spanking, slapping, pussy slapping, light choking, spitting, belt whipping, praise/degradation, marking, mention of scratching, Jerome is big meanie pants mean man

The new mayor of Gotham is having a meeting with his council members, but things take a turn when the Legion of Horribles show up to kidnap them and reader. When the victims are being unloaded from the truck, Jerome Valeska notices reader, because she isn't exactly on the guest list.

Tag list of lovelies: @gabile18 @valeskaduh @fangirl--writes @persephoneblck

Masterlist

I had been working as a housekeeper for the new mayor. It was a good job, but I wasn't appreciated. I was just there to clean and serve when needed. I don't think he even knew my name. I was just hired help to him. To all of them.

He was hosting a dinner for his council that day. I had been placed in the corner of the room with a bottle of expensive wine where I was to wait until wanted. He gestured for me to come forwards and fill their glasses while they started talking about their displeasure with the rising foul play in the city, like it was anything new for Gotham. The chairwoman wanted to know what he was going to do about it. Very little in my opinion. He was just coasting. In too deep over his head. He had been appointed far too fast and everyone knew it. He wasn't going to last.

He made an attempt to save face and talk about how he too was disturbed by the recent goings on and was doing everything he could. Trash, utter trash. As he rose from his seat, the lights fizzled out. I stopped pouring. Had this been any other city I would have assumed it was a simple power outage, but nothing was that simple in Gotham. The security guard closed us in and went to see what was happening. The air turned icy. No, this was not good. Gunshots and screams came from the hallway and everyone rose from the table terrified. We quickly started walking towards a door hoping to make an escape, but there was something about the windows. They were freezing over.

The doors burst open and I dropped the wine. It smashed into pieces as a blueish man in some kind of robotic suit and a weird looking, but huge gun stepped into the room. Was that Victor Fries? Then through the second set of doors another man in a top hat who I recognised as Jervis Tetch burst in with some other strange looking friends.

Before I could comprehend the situation, we were all being cuffed and taken outside. Our kidnappers pushed and pulled us towards a huge truck, all the while the mayor tried to buy his way free. He was showing just how little he really knew about the underbelly of Gotham. I knew just by looking at them that they were probably Arkham escapees and couldn't be bought like a sane man could. They had their own plans and you can't bargain with crazies.

We got to the truck and they opened the back door. My blood ran cold when I saw that standing there waiting for us was Jerome Valeska. Of all the criminals Gotham had seen he had been the only one that had scared me, truly and thoroughly. He didn't have any kind of reason for what he did. He just enjoyed death and chaos. And after his last escapade he looked like madness personified, his scars circling his face and eyes and giving him a permanent evil smile. Dread consumed me as I realized that he was no doubt the leader of this operation and if that was true, we were already dead.

I felt myself jolted forwards. The mayor had pushed me in front of the rest of the council to get whatever was coming first. If I wasn't cuffed, I would have turned around and broke his nose. I was lifted into the truck, my hands were pulled above my head and fixed to two hooks. I had to stand on my toes to keep standing which made it awkward and difficult as they pushed me to the back of the truck.

Was that Penguin? What was he doing here? He didn't belong here. I had gone to Penguin looking for a job in his club when I was 16. He was impressed with my audition, but when he asked my age, he rejected me.

"This establishment is not a playground for children. It's a nightclub." He had told me. At the time I had been steaming mad, but in hindsight he was probably right. Even if he was rude. So, after that, I found it hard to understand why he was here and working with Valeska. Maybe he had been kidnapped too?

The rest of the council were loaded on and hooked. The mayor was still trying to offer them money and pardons. When he saw it wasn't working, he resorted to empty, unintimidating threats. Jerome was completely unfazed and even a little disappointed in the lack of smiles.

"Nobody knows how to have fun anymore, right?" He said putting his arm around Penguin. So, he was a part of this.

Jerome pointed to a scary looking figure dressed like a scarecrow. Johnathan Crane? Crane released some kind of purple gas in the face of a member of a council. She started laughing and convulsing violently.

"What have you got to lose? Except your sanity?" Jerome joined in the crazy laughter. So, this was his plan. He'd figured out a way to forcefully drive everyone insane. With a gas.

I silently prayed to God in my mind for any kind of help.

After sufficiently terrifying us half to death, they left us in the back of truck. None of us could say anything and after a few minutes the truck started moving.

"Is she ok?" I asked looking towards the victim of the insanity gas.

"Who cares?! We have to figure out what they want and get out of here." Replied the mayor.

"Maybe they want publicity for whatever that gas is. Offer them some TV time." Guessed the chairwoman.

"Don't you get it?! This isn't a situation you can buy your way out of!" I snapped, frustrated with their idiocy.

"These aren't normal criminals. They don't want your money. They want chaos and madness." They stood there silently stunned. They had never heard me speak with such confidence, but in that moment, they knew I was right.

After what felt like hours the truck finally stopped.

"What's going on?" The mayor whispered.

Everything was quiet. We listened for any noise or sign of life. All we could hear was our own breath.

Then suddenly the doors flung open once again and in hopped Valeska, Tetch and Crane.

"We're here!" Jerome grinned.

The other two started to pull the council one by one off the hooks and walk them out of the truck, closely watched by Jerome. Until they got to me.

"Wait..." He stuck an arm out to stop Tetch from unhooking me.

"Who's she? She wasn't on the party list." He took a few steps closer to me.

"This poor young girl is an unlucky maid. Wrong place, wrong time. Very bad day." Jervis explained looking at me.

"Would you like me to... dispose of her?" Asked Crane, stalking close to me and lifting needle covered fingers to my throat.

"Not so fast, Mr Potato Head." Jerome said pulling him away from me.

He came so close that we were only inches apart. He looked down at me as if he was thinking for a few seconds then smirked and turned around to the others.

"Guys, go and see that our guests are comfortable, will ya? Get everything ready." He ushered them out of the truck. Fear travelled up and down my body. This had all been a bad situation, but being alone with Valeska scared the hell out of me.

"You're lucky I have a soft spot for pretty little girls." He closed the truck doors and turned to look at me.

"Freddy Krueger there... not so much." He relaxed, leaning back against the doors with his hands in his pockets. "You got a name?"

I stayed silent, more out of fear than defiance. He sucked his teeth and stood up straight.

"I get it. You're scared. Who wouldn't be, right?" He started slowly walking closer. "But things will go a lot smoother if you just play nice."

I still couldn't find any words.

"Aw, come on, doll! I'm getting awful lonely over here." He brought his hands up out of his pockets and leaned against a wall of the truck.

He was quiet for a few seconds and I noticed that his eyes were making their way up my legs. Being held up by my wrists on my tip toes had pulled my uniform skirt up and almost all of my thighs were exposed. I blurted out my name in an attempt to distract him from my bare legs. He smiled.

"What a pretty name. Now, was that so hard?" He pushed himself off the wall and came a little closer.

"So, you're the mayor's dust bunny, huh? I gotta say, doll, I can see why he keeps you around." He chuckled, eyeing me.

My whole body flushed and my face turned hot and red.

“But, uh, the thing about mayors in this town, they don’t last very long.”

"Please let me go." I whimpered.

"Oh, but we're having such a good time! Plus, if I did that, you'd scamper off to the GCPD and I can't have good ol' Gordon crashing the party early."

I scoffed at his suggestion. Not likely. I had a distinct distaste for the GCPD. They hadn't helped me when I needed them. I would never need them again.

"What's the matter? He book ya before or something?" Jerome smiled with intrigue.

"My parents... they... did things to us. When I ended up in the hospital one too many times..." Tears stung my eyes as I remembered. "They left me there and disappeared with my little brother. No one ever managed to track them down."

I didn’t fully understand why I was opening up to Jerome, but for a second, I saw a spark of humanity in his eyes. Like he understood my pain. I'd heard his first kill had been his mother, so maybe he did?

"I'd give anything to see him again." I sniffed and a tear rolled down my cheek.

"Yeah, I had shitty parents too." He sighed. "I killed them both."

I had thought about what I would do if I ever saw my parents again. What I would say, what I would ask. I could never think of the right words. But the thought of killing them, well that made me smile.

"What was it like?" I asked.

Jerome grinned from ear to ear and stepped closer so that we were toe to toe.

“Have you ever stood at the edge of a really tall building? You know that little voice in the back of your head that says ‘Jump! You can fly!’ even though every other part of you is screaming ‘No you can’t! You’re gonna kill us!’”

I nodded shakily.

“It’s like finally giving in to that voice. Like jumping off Gotham Bridge and finding out you can fly. And realising you never have to walk again.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and my heart felt like it was going a million beats per minute. His eyes were locked on mine and it felt like he was looking straight into my soul.

“You wanna fly, doll?” He brought his hand up to cup my jaw and ran his thumb along my bottom lip.

It wasn’t humanity I saw in Jerome Valeskas eyes. It was freedom. A freedom that I had wanted for as long as I could remember. And I could have it right now. He was offering it to me. The only thing standing in my way was myself.

“Yes.” I breathed. “Yes, I do.”

The next thing I knew, his lips were crashing into mine and he had hooked his hands under my thighs and was holding them around his waist. His kiss was desperate and hungry, like he had been starved for days and his grip on the bare flesh of my thighs was rough enough to leave bruises. I locked my ankles together behind him to steady myself from swaying underneath the cuffs. When I did, he drove his crotch forwards, grinding into my centre, a quiet moan escaping me as I felt him.

He slowly trailed a hand from my thigh, up my back and to the nape of my neck, before balling my hair in his fist. I gasped as I felt the sudden, sharp tug of him pulling my head back.

His eyes wandered down to settle on my exposed throat, before yanking my head to the side and nestling in the crook of my neck. He must’ve left a hundred open mouth kisses, but as he started to suck, I felt his teeth sink into my skin. I pulled back with a hiss at the sting, but he wouldn’t let go. He just kept on leaving harsh, red bitemarks and pulling my hair, all the time grinding harder into me.

He licked over the bruises he’d left and gently kissed them, before trailing his tongue up my neck to nip at my ear. He smiled darkly and pulled back away from me, dropping my legs back to the floor. He stalked around me, eyeing me up and down like a predator. I felt him behind me, his hands softly holding onto my waist, pulling me close to his chest.

“You know what’s great about this?” He cooed. “You’re already pre-cuffed.”

I flushed and my core swelled hot, his breath so close to me made my skin tingle all over. He pulled at the top of my skirt and dragged it down my hips, letting it fall down around my feet. He caressed my thighs and then stepped back, tugging at my underwear, playfully letting the elastic snap back to me.

“Y’know...” He said, before the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling. “Marquis de Sade said ‘sex without pain is like food without taste’...”

My eyes widened at his words and my heartbeat quickened.

“So, let’s make this... delicious.”

A million thoughts raced through my mind, but before I could process any, I felt the sharp snap of leather against my ass. I jolted forwards and let out a high pitch yelp.

Even though I couldn’t see him, I could tell he was smirking. I could hear it in his voice. I bit my lip in an attempt to brace myself and he landed the belt across me again.

“Please, Jerome...” I whimpered at the sting, closing my eyes.

He brought it down again, making me arch my back in a gasp. A couple of tears rolled down my cheeks and I realised there was little point in resisting the torment. So, I gritted my teeth and prepared for another lick of the belt.

He whipped me once more, harder this time and a small scream escaped me.

“Please!” I begged.

I heard him chuckle with dark delight. The bastard was enjoying this. Of course he was. What else had I expected from someone like him? I tightened all my muscles for the next sting...

But it didn’t come. Instead, I felt him pulling my underwear down. Relief washed over me when I heard the belt drop to the floor and I realised Jerome was finished and was now crouched, ready to inspect his work. He ran his fingers over my burning flesh, taking in the bright red lashes he had left on me.

“What a pretty picture?” He said, landing a spank. “I wish you could see too doll, but having you cuffed is half the fun.”

His voice was dripping with venom and arousal and I could practically feel his grin in the air. He traced the marks with his fingers a little longer, before grabbing my flesh in fistfuls and sinking his teeth in. I gasped loudly at the hard bite. I wasn’t sure how many more of Jerome's surprises I could take. He laughed and ran his tongue over the new bruise.

“Yep. Definitely a pretty picture.” He smiled, giving me another spank. “I like those little noises you make, doll. Why don’t you make some more for me?”

He snaked his hand up my inner thigh and began stroking along my slit, relighting the fire in my stomach. I moaned, biting hard on my lip and tried to bring my thighs together, wanting friction.

“Naughty.” He said, landing a swift slap on my entrance causing me to let out a little yelp. “I need you to keep those legs open for me.”

It wasn’t as bad as the belt. In fact, it felt quite good. The heat inside me swelled as Jerome returned to running his fingers back and forth in my slickness. I hummed softly in my throat, fighting the urge to close my thighs again, my knees starting to shudder underneath me.

“Look how wet you are and I’m barely touching you.” Jerome chuckled darkly. “I wonder what happens if I do this?”

Jerome plunged two fingers deep inside me and slowly started pumping them. I let the warmth roll through me, moaning blissfully. He gently started to pick up speed, making it nearly impossible for me to keep my thighs apart. The faster he got, the deeper he dove, making me tighten around his talented fingers and struggle to keep steady on my toes.

My legs were shaking and despite my best efforts I just had to squeeze them together. As soon as I did, Jerome removed his fingers from me, leaving me feeling empty and spanked me hard.

“What did I say about that?” He barked, laying down another spank.

His spanking felt different this time. It felt pleasurable and sent a thrill up my spine.

“Sorry.” I whimpered.

“Sorry for what?” He spanked me again. “For being a needy little whore? Hm?” Another spank.

“Yes!” I gasped. “I’m a needy little whore! I just...”

“What? You just what?”

Jerome landed another slap at my core. It made my muscles clench, but it also aroused me so much more in a way I’d never thought I’d experience.

“What? What do you want, whore?”

“Please...”

“Big words, princess. What...” Spank. “Do you...” Another spank. “Want?”

“I want... I want you...” I forced, breathlessly.

“You want me? What do you want me to do, princess?” Jerome teased, tracing a finger along my burning entrance, just barely touching me.

“Please... Make me feel good, Jerome... Make me cum.”

“Are you gonna be a good girl?”

“Yes...”

“Are you gonna do as I say?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Exactly as I say?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Just please...Jerome.”

I couldn’t take it any longer. I felt so pathetic and needy. I needed him to touch me.

“So desperate.” He giggled sadistically. I supposed he loved seeing me beg.

Then, finally, he spread me open and dove his tongue deep into my wanting warmth. I closed my eyes and bit down hard on my lip as he swirled his tongue around inside me. I wanted to grab his hair and feel it in my fingers, but all I could do was squeeze my fists together in empty frustration.

Jerome grabbed a hand full of my ass, gripping it tightly, digging his nails in and rose his other hand to my pelvis front, pulling me down further onto his tongue. I squealed, a delightful mixture of pleasure and also pain from the tugging on my aching forearms. He ran his front hand down to play with my swollen clit, circling his fingers around beautifully.

He grinded his face deeply into me, sliding his tongue up, down, around and around inside me. He pressed his fingers down harder on my clit, forcing a loud moan out of me. I felt the pressure inside me build, coiling and tightening like a burning spring. I squeezed my thighs around his head in a desperate attempt to pull him deeper, his tongue nestling inside finding all of my sweet spots and lighting them on fire.

I could feel myself ready, ready to burst. He was pulling an amazing orgasm out of me and I wanted nothing more than to just let it go. All it took was one more upward jolt of his head, pushing his tongue that last little bit deep enough to push me over. I screamed out in erotic pleasure, letting the feeling flood me like warm water. My back arched and my legs convulsed until I withered, letting myself dangle from my cuffs in a breathless defeat.

Jerome slid his tongue out of me and pulled his face back away.

“You sing so pretty, dollface. Like a little birdie.” He said, squeezing the flesh off my ass.

He gave me one more light bite and a spank, before he rose back up to stand, snaking his hands along my sides all the way. He let his hands wander up to cup my breasts, massaging them softly. He leaned in close and began leaving wet kisses in the crook of my neck. I shuddered, his touch sending a cool tingle down my spine. He let his hands squeeze my breasts slightly harder, then pulled away and crept back around in front of me.

He stood facing me, his eyes locked on mine. They seemed to burn holes right into my flesh, creating a sense of fear in me. I was scared of Jerome Valeska, I truly was. But everything he was doing to me right now... The way he touched me, kissed me. I wondered how he managed it. How he was able to both terrify and arouse me in equal amounts.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t register his hand rising until it was firmly wrapped around my throat. He leaned down to kiss me, dominating my mouth with his tongue, making me taste myself. Once again, I felt the familiar warmth build in my core as I sensed we were not quite done here. He finished the kiss with a little nip to my bottom lip.

“Are you scared of me, doll?” He purred.

I swallowed hard, unsure if truth was wise here. Then I felt him increase the pressure around my throat, not wanting to wait for an answer.

“Yes.” I breathed.

“Good.” He said through an evil smirk.

He crashed his lips to mine once again, his free hand picking up my thigh to wrap around him. I locked both my legs around his waist, wanting to feel him close against me. I felt his erection hard, under his clothes, grinding into me and I wanted it. Badly. He pulled away from the kiss, leaving his taste on my tongue and raised his hand from my throat to grab hold of my face. He took his other hand away from my thigh and pulled at his tie. I didn’t drop my legs this time, instead I gripped tighter as he slid his tie from around his neck and scrunched it in his fist.

“Open your mouth.” He ordered.

I did as he said and he smiled, before spitting into my open lips and gagging me with his tie. I’d never had anyone do that before and it shocked me a little, but then again, I’d never had anyone like Jerome Valeska before.

He backed up slightly, just enough for him to reach down and unzip his trousers and pull down his underwear, freeing his erection. I couldn’t help but look down at it. It was bigger than any I’d taken before and I wasn’t sure how prepared I was. He started to slowly stroke himself, lifting up my chin to look at me.

He gently stroked a single finger across my jaw and then, suddenly, landed a harsh slap across my cheek. I yelped at the slap, causing a dangerous smile to form on Jeromes mouth. I should’ve been repulsed by him. He killed people and was aroused by my pain and fear, so why was I so attracted to him?

He angled himself underneath me so he was lined up and ready. He wrapped his hand back around my throat and then pushed forwards into me, causing us both to let out deep moans.

“You like that?”

I nodded and whimpered through the material of the tie. Jerome giggled darkly and with his free hand, gripped onto my waist.

“Brace yourself, princess.” He warned, through a poisonous smile.

He pulled back slowly, until he was almost completely out of me and then, like a bullet, ploughed himself right back in, jolting me backwards with force. He continued his thrusting rough and fast, making me whimper and bite down hard on the tie. I closed my legs tightly around him, pulling him closer and forcing him in deeper.

He let out a low, guttural groan and moved his hand upwards from my waist to slap me again, spitting at my face as he did so. I closed my eyes to endure the onslaught of him pounding inside me like a raging animal. I felt like a toy, dangling there for him to use as he liked, but still the searing pleasure of it all made me moan lustfully.

“Open those peepers, princess.” He commanded. “I want you to see exactly who’s in charge here.”

I opened my eyes and saw him grinning at me like a man possessed.

“You like this? You like me fucking you?” He growled, gripping my throat tighter.

All I could do was whimper and moan in response.

“I cuffed you and hung you up, hurt you, spat on you... even made you cry! And you still let me fuck you?” He laughed through shallow breaths. “You’re pathetic, you know that? A pathetic little whore.”

Jerome threw another slap at me and I felt myself tighten around his considerable length, taking him all deep inside me. He drove up into me like he was trying to break me open with his girth and I welcomed every inch of it.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He moaned.

I clenched my walls around him, the feeling of being filled by him sending flutters through me as he pushed in deeper and laughed.

“I don’t think your pussy ever wants to let me go, doll!” He grinned. “But I already know you like taking my cock like this, cause you’re such a good girl for me... I like that.”

I flushed at his words. I didn’t know why, but it made me feel good to please him and, in that moment, I would have done anything for him. I could feel my ecstasy creeping up on me, like magma rising inside a volcano. I cried out wantonly, the heat rising as he worked me, exploring every detail of my canal with his thick shaft.

He let go of my throat and moved both his hands to grab onto my ass and squeezed, steadying me so he could pound me harder and climb to release. His thrusts became erratic and sloppy and I could tell he was just as close as I was. I moaned loudly as he rammed into me harder and faster, burying himself deeper and making my arousal burn.

I could feel it coming, so close. I was about to boil over and all I needed was him. Just him. He continued thrusting like a raging animal, digging his nails into my flesh and scraping them along my ass, stinging sweetly. I whimpered at the sensation and tightened my legs.

“Cum for me, doll.” He panted. “I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

He plunged into me, pushing the magma higher and just so close to bursting. It was coming. I could feel it.

He pounded again. So close. Again and again, so hard inside me. Just a little more...

I screamed out, closing my eyes and letting everything go. The feeling of my orgasm washed over me like a tidal wave of pure elation. My whole body shook from the force of it and I trembled like a leaf. Jerome continued to thrust into me until he too reached his climax. He growled like a beast and I felt him throb, releasing his hot load of sticky lust deep inside me.

We both relaxed, catching our breath and he stared down into my eyes. He unlatched his hands from the flesh of my ass and brought one round to gently stroke my cheek with his fingertips. It was quiet, but only for a minute.

He threw his head back and laughed like the madman he was, before pulling out of me and stepping back. My legs dropped to the floor and he began to put himself away and zip his trousers back up.

“Well, that was fantastic, dollface. Thanks for playing nice with me.” He said, throwing me a wink.

There was a loud metallic knock at the truck doors and I guessed whoever it was, was trying to get Jeromes attention.

“It’s been fun princess, really. But time waits for no man and I’ve got a party to attend” He said, smiling at me. “Well, more like crash.”

When he turned to leave, I tried to speak, but all that came out was intelligible muttering. He wasn’t going to leave me here, dangling, half naked and gagged like this? Was he? He began walking to the truck doors and I tried to call out.

“Oh! Wait, almost forgot.”

I felt a flood of relief when he began walking back to me.

“I’m gonna need this back.” He said and pulled the tie out of my mouth.

I was glad to finally be rid of it, but my joy was short lived, because he was starting to leave again.

“Hey...” I croaked; my mouth dry.

“Yeah, I’ll have someone come get you later.” He said, too nonchalantly for my liking. “For now, you can just... well, why don’t you just hang out?”

He laughed at his joke and opened the doors.

“Hey! You can’t leave me here!” I tried to shout, but my throat was too dry.

And then... he was gone. He really did just leave me alone, half naked in the back of a truck. How long would it be before someone found me? An hour? Two? The rest of the day?

All alone with my thoughts now, I decided the only thing to do now was wait. Wait and try and go over what the hell just happened between me and Jerome Valeska.

#gotham #jerome valeska #jerome x reader #fanfic #smut

547 notes · View notes

letarasstuff · 3 years

Text

Ranting

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it :)

Summary: In the middle of midterms, Spencer's daughter has enough and for the first time in her life, she rants to the team

Warnings: one swear word, school, school stress, mental breakdown, shitty friends, a bit of angst (but there is fluff to balance that out), weird grammatical sentences that are according to google correct

Wordcount: 2.3k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________ As a teenager, Spencer was pretty closed off. But this had several reasons, like being a child (or moreover a teen prodigy) at college and getting his first Ph.D, or that he hadn’t had a safety net of people he could have gone to. So as he became a father himself, he tried everything possible to assure his own daughter that her feelings and thoughts are always welcome and valid.

Unfortunately (Y/N) herself has developed the same habit starting high school and ever since Spencer can’t do anything to get her to open up to him. It’s not like they don’t have a good relationship, they have one of the strongest father-daughter bonds the BAU has ever witnessed. The girl simply has other ways to cope with her feelings and how to act them out in the safety of her own four walls. Her father learned to accept it, knowing that he can’t and won’t force her to talk to him.

So what follows now not only shocked Spencer. But also his work family.

It’s the time every teen in high school dreads: Midterms.

A word a teacher can mutter and a shiver goes through the rows of students in the classroom. Or at least it feels like it to (Y/N). She takes her school work very seriously. In her mind every single grade determines her future.

The rational part in her knows that the grades in her sophomore year doesn’t matter. That they are even long forgotten when she graduates. There is just so much pressure on her. But it isn’t coming from her father.

Spencer is pretty laid-back regarding school. He knows his daughter is trying her best and that it’s just the tenth grade and not the end of the world. School is not everything life has to offer, especially he has to know it as a scholar and profiler flying through the country in a jet back and forth.

It’s (Y/N)’s classmates, who pressure her to get good grades.

“We depend on you and your notes”, Tyler exclaims as he jogs next to her through the busy hallway. “Ty, I know. But I don’t have the time to get them done for all of you to understand by tomorrow. They are still a mess that only I know to see through. I still have to finish my history project and I go to my Dad’s work this afternoon, which means I won’t get much done and I still have to do the homework I got today before sorting my notes for the test in two days.”

At her locker, the boy still doesn’t let go of the subject. “Do you want to say that our grades don’t matter as much as yours? Because this would be a true selfish statement.” Maybe it is the lack of sleep, because she pulled three all-nighters in two weeks, or the fact that she is slowly getting fed up being treated like an unpaid private teacher, but (Y/N) can’t stop her sassy answer. “Tyler, you wouldn't even know how to tell apart your ass from your head if it weren’t for me and my help in biology. You wouldn’t even know how to spell selfish if I didn’t let you copy my answers in spelling tests in elementary school.”

Done with the day and her friend’s shit, she slams the door of her locker shut and leaves a flabbergasted boy behind. Half an hour later the teenager enters the bullpen with her visitor badge clipped to the pocket of her sweater.

On the way there she was fuming. The audacity of her friends. It’s not only Tyler, who tried to get her notes of a unit, she was the only one listening, even though the teacher said loud and clear that this will be important for midterms. A few other friends out of the group she usually hangs out with texted her the same question of when her notes will be given to them. Understandably, (Y/N) comes into the office in the worst mood anyone from the team ever saw, including her own father.

“Hey Sweetheart”, he tries to greet her with a hug. Even though both of them are not big on touch, they are extra affectionate with people they are close to.

To everybody’s surprise, the girl takes a step back, effectively avoiding his open arms. “Hey”, she grumbles out before taking a seat in the chair already waiting for her. Nobody is allowed to sit in this one, except for her. Not even Derek has ever put his butt on this one, knowing the sacredness of it.

Without sparing anyone another glance, (Y/N) gets the needed stuff for that history project out and continues working on it. The team resorts to throwing a questiongly look to Spencer, who shrugs his shoulders with a look of despair. So everyone resumes their work without even daring to say a word.

The general silence is occasionally broken by an unnerved sigh leaving the teenager’s lips. “Is the conference room occupied?” She asks, her voice clearly showing how annoyed she is. Her father shakes his head. “No, not that I know of. Do you need help with your school work?” This is obviously the wrong thing to say. “Do I look like a baby? I don’t need anyone to help with that, I have been going to school for ten years now, I think I can handle this project as perfectly fine as I did since day one. It’s just your keyboard typing that will be the reason for my first grey hairs if I don’t get out of here soon.”

Quickly (Y/N) gathers her stuff and storms off into the conference room. Immediately the team crowds her father’s desk. “What happened?” “Who hurt her?” “Go, talk to her!”

“Guys, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m at the same loss as all of you. The only thing I know is that (Y/N) is under pressure, because it’s midterms. But judging by the way she reacted, I don’t want to go near her. It’s safer to try to defuse a bomb than talk to her in that mood. Last time I saw something similar, her favorite show was declared finished, got a revival and then didn’t get one and nobody mentioned it again. She was so mad, I think it took three years of her life.” A silence of uncertainty spreads through the room.

“What about we give her some room until she calms down?” JJ suggests, being unsure herself how to deal with a teenage girl. But the rest agrees and goes back to filling out their paperwork.

This continues for about 20 minutes, till a loud bang and a frustrated scream is heard followed by “DON’T THEY WANT TO GET IT OR ARE THEY JUST STUPID?!” Alerted by that, seven people (yes, even Dave and Aaron leave their offices, while Penelope was already in the bullpen) storm into the round table room only to see a more than outraged (Y/N).

“Sweetheart”, Spencer speaks to her in the gentlest voice they ever heard from him and slowly moves towards his daughter, “What’s going on?”

Her response is delayed by several deep breaths she has to take in order to be able to talk without seething. “ALL OF MY SO CALLED FRIENDS ARE ASKING ME FOR MY NOTES, like do I look like a personal tutor? And when I tell them that I got a life, a life outside of school and grades, because otherwise I go completely bananas, just like all of you say, they get mad. Now they act like I’m the most selfish person in the whole world. I’m so done, can’t they understand that they are old enough to take care of their own stuff? I’m not responsible for them, their grades or anything regarding their lives. Otherwise I would be the mother of at least four toddlers and one baby and at the age of sixteen I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I know friends are there for eachother, and I really don’t mind helping them from time to time. But what they are doing is terror. Terror.

“Oh and don’t get me started on their tormention if I get something lower than an A-. Then they suddenly transform into geniuses, like they suddenly know everything possible. Of course, I’m the dumb one. I should have studied more.

“I am under an insane amount of pressure, because I know they rely on me, but enough is enough. I tell them that if anyone asks me for anything school related again and they act like I owe them an answer, I’ll cut off all ties to all of them. What am I, a roboter just there for their needs, without some of my own?”

After her long rant, (Y/N) takes a couple more breaths. It’s pretty much the only sound right now, because the team is stunned. None of them heard her talking, no ranting, like that. Not even her Spencer has seen her like that.

Realizing what she just said, the teenager fidgets nervously with her hands. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know, blow up like that. I, I really don’t know where this came from.” Nervously she scratches the back of her head. It really wasn’t her intention to let it out like that. Her plan was just to come home tonight and deal in the confinement of her own four walls with all of her feelings. It’s easier to be honest to yourself when you are alone than having an audience watching you losing it.

Suddenly (Y/N) finds herself engulfed in a massive bear hug. “Oh, my sweet sweet summerchild. You needed to rant to us and I’m so happy you did. Even though your uhm, friends, sound like big douchebags, we can help you sort something out”, Penelope tells her while keeping her arms around the teen.

“Just like lil mama said, we are here for you, Baby Reid. Don’t ever be afraid to tell us something, may it even be as small as you having stubbed your toe.” Morgan ruffles her hair and gives her a reassuring smile.

Just like them everybody shows her their support, be it encouraging words or affectionately gestures. Rossi invites her to a calm and quiet dinner at his mansion, cooking class included. Hotch assures her that she will get through this rough patch, with or without these fake people. JJ suggests (Y/N) comes over to her home and she can participate in a family game night at their home.

When it’s Emily’s turn, she makes sure to get her message loud and clear by looking the teen in the eyes (not as deep as it sounds, because some people make an intense stare really uncomfortable): “If those kids give you a hard time again, tell me. I’ll pay them a visit in classic protective godmother fashion, because nobody traits MY godchild like this. Just give me their names and I’ll handle the rest.” Obviously she doesn’t say this aloud in front of everyone, else Hotch will have her head, knowing she goes through with her threats. Instead she whispers it into the teen’s ear. Still, it makes (Y/N) smile, having such a strong support net.

Sensing the family’s need for time of their own to talk about the whole situation, the team leaves the room. Spencer gestures to her to take a seat after moving two chairs opposite each other. He wants her not to feel trapped.

“Do you still want to talk about it? It doesn’t have to be now, we can do it tonight, tomorrow, in a week or in a month. Just, please don’t shut me out. I know it’s difficult to be a teenager, especially in times like these. But it won’t do you any good keeping all of this for yourself. Today you took it out through anger. How will it look next time?

I don’t want to pressure you into talking. We don’t need to. We can find other coping mechanisms. We can try and reduce your stress. Anything. But we both know that this is not the right way.” While speaking, he takes his daughter’s hand, making her look up to him.

(Y/N) nods. Her eyes fill with tears. “I just can’t keep going like this.” She whispers, feeling all the stress, pressure and the intensity of the last few weeks crashing down on her. Quickly Spencer gathers her in his arms, letting her cry in his embrace.

After calming down, she looks up to her father with bloodshot eyes. “We can talk tonight. But I need you to do me a favor.” “Anything”, he assures her, stroking a hand along her back. “I, uhm, I need a new phone. I may or may not have thrown mine against the wall after getting a text from Tyler.”

Spencer looks at the crooked cell laying on the floor, the screen cracked. “I think we can get that sorted”, he tells her with a smile and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

The two of them leave the office earlier, having many things to talk about and many problems to solve. But with the help of her family (Y/N) gets through this, a time where people unfortunately only like her for her smarts and not being herself.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #Emily Prentiss x teen!reader #Penelope Garcia x teen!reader #Derek Morgan x teen!reader #x teen!reader #x daughter!reader #reid!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #reader insert

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harry-writings · 3 years

Text

The Happy Years

- The one where Y/n is unhappy in her engagement and finds an escape with her former lover

Part 1

Masterlist

(A/N) IM SO EARLY IM SORRY I KNOW I SAID 9PM BUT IM DONE SO MUCH SOONER THAN EXPECTED OKAY IM SORRY LOVE YALL <3333

Three years later.

The heaviest of thunderstorms hit the city of London by early morning, the loss of the sun and the gloom of the day leaving Harry bedridden for the first time in weeks.

He always tried his best to avoid days like this — trapped within his home, caged in memories that make every step he takes heavier than the last, wishing for just the smallest taste of salvation — because it’s when he’s left alone between these walls that the darkest parts of him come out, ravaging, feeding off of what’s left of him.

Rain reminds him of the day Y/n left. Thunder reminds him of Malibu. Malibu reminds him of all the things he ever used to do with her — on the bed, on the couch, in the hallways.

There’s no escape from what he’s done.

But when the time hits two in the afternoon and Harry still hasn’t gotten up from under his blankets, he decides that doing even the bare minimum with his day would be some sort of accomplishment.

He decided to get the mail.

And what a terrible decision that was, Harry thinks, as he sees an envelope addressed to him in unfamiliar handwriting by an unfamiliar name. Something about it upsets his stomach and throws him off key, knowing in his heart that he shouldn’t open it, but it’s heavy in his hands and he can’t ignore the temptation of it all.

Another terrible decision he’s made.

Please join us for the wedding of Alfie Lexington & Y/n Y/l/n.

Saturday, September 25, 2021 at 3:00 PM.

Dartmouth House. Mayfair, London.

The downpour feels like a drizzle compared to the cries Harry lets out as he reads the wedding invitation, his worst nightmare playing out right before his very eyes and if he wasn’t already so fucked up, he’d try his best to ignore it.

Y/n played her move. She wants him to strike back. She wants to win and watch him lose more than he already has. That’s all she has left of him.

His lips tremble as he sniffles, the invitation shaking between his palms as he lets reality sink in.

Y/n is getting married.

Y/n is happy.

Y/n is going to spend the rest of her life with somebody other than him — somebody that was once his friend.

It's unfathomable to him. The connection him and Y/n shared was unlike any other. They were drawn to each other instantaneously, their feelings of infatuation never once dying down because it was simply incapable of doing so.

They put each other first. They made each other better people, helped each other grow through all the droughts and winter days, and continuously found ways to become closer to one another. They were so comfortable and confident in their company, and so every day they spent together within those four years had never been anything less than pure happiness.

They were meant to be. He didn’t see it then, but he sees it now, and now that’s all he sees because everything he sees is her.

To know that it’s no longer the same for her kills him from the inside out, because now she really doesn’t belong to him.

He lets out a sound that can only resemble what would be a whine and a groan made together, sobbing as he flips the invitation around, only to find another saved date he just doesn’t have the heart to see — an engagement party for all the invited to join.

He’s so overwhelmed with devastation that his brain becomes fogged, his body disassociating from itself as he rips the invitation apart, growling and screaming and wailing as he just keeps ripping it and ripping it and ripping it.

He’s destroying it in the same way it destroyed him until he gives up, slamming his fists down upon the counter, losing control of himself beneath all his pain and regrets. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to happen. This isn’t what was supposed to come from this life.

He’s barely surviving as it is.

And he just needs to see her again.

But he doesn’t know how he’d react once he does. Whether he’d want to kiss her, to hate her, to love her all over again, he doesn’t know. His entire world is collapsing and he doesn’t know how to save it from falling apart. He can’t take any more risks when it comes to her.

But what is love without fear and danger? What would it say about him if he were to walk away from this now instead of trying just once more with her?

So with a heavy heart and a sobbing chest, he doesn’t take his chances.

And Y/n simply just couldn’t believe the sight in front of her.

Harry is standing at her doorstep, soaked head to toe, shaking in his bones. His lips are a light shade of blue and his eyes an alarming shade of red, somehow wetter than the rest of him. And as the thunder rumbles beneath her feet and nearly sends her to her knees, it goes to show her that he really is here, standing at her doorstep, and it’s not just a dream.

And she must have been struck by the shock of his presence because her tongue is suddenly tied, her throat dry, her lips fallen open yet forgetting how to breathe.

She just looks at him, soaking him all in, trying to understand what exactly led him back to the biggest mistake of his life.

“Harry?”

“So that was your way of getting back at me?! After three fucking years?!”

Her mouth falls open in disbelief, her eyebrows furrowing in defense. How he could possibly accuse her of something she didn’t even do — considering she hadn’t made any attempts to reach out to him since the moment she left Malibu — makes her feel even more betrayed than before.

He should know her better than this. He should know her from the inside out at this point, but she supposed three years really is a long time, because she’s never seen this side of Harry before. He seems so different to her now.

“Don’t you dare come to my home and try to make an ass out of me! Since when have I ever been the kind of person to get back at somebody?!”

Harry stutters for a moment, his anger and jealousy and hurt blinding him from the truth that Y/n never goes out of her way to get even. Her heart is too big, but he can’t shake this feeling that the person who sent him the invitation was out to do him harm.

And nobody had more of a reason to hurt him than Y/n.

“So the wedding invitation, then? You had nothing to do with that?”

He speaks it condescending, as if he didn’t believe a word she said, but that’s not what it comes down to. It comes down to the fact that she has moved on and found herself somebody so much better than him, and he has no one.

She shakes her head as if to gather her thoughts, confused about how he even found out about the wedding considering Harry quit the firm just hours after he left Malibu, leaving him with no contact to anybody that had any string tied back to her.

“Of course I had something to do with the wedding invitations! I’m the one getting married!”

She pauses then, her cold demeanor dropping into something Harry wants to say resembles a hint of relief, but it’s much more cross than that, much more serious, and he doesn’t expect what’s coming next.

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Me getting married?” She speaks it through a small, bitter laugh. “I should have known the only way you’d fight for me was by being with somebody else. You never could stand being second to me, as ironic as that is.”

“I could give two shits about you getting married.” He lies through clenched teeth, his stomach sick at the mere thought of it. “But I do have an issue with you inviting me to your wedding after walking out on me.”

Her head snaps back up to him.

“Wait, Harry, what are you talking about?” She frowns, trying to make sense of it. “I didn’t invite you to the wedding.”

Why would she?

They are no longer friends, no longer much of anything, so for her to take time out of her day to sabotage anything but herself wouldn’t feel right to her. Besides, it was her decision to never speak to Harry again, she wouldn’t ever take her word back.

Harry frowns then, too, because she isn’t faking her emotions. She’d always been terrible at doing so, and the way her eyes scream and beg for answers can’t go ignored. He, again, feels like the absolute worst person in the world.

“Then who did?” He whispers.

There’s only one possible answer.

Seven months ago.

Alfie insisted that he and Y/n had a New Year’s Eve party. They’d never had one before, as Y/n much preferred staying in with a bottle of champagne and celebrating with a lobster dinner and late night reruns of The Honeymooners.

But Alfie was persistent. Very persistent. Too persistent. So persistent she had no choice but to give in, and she just didn’t understand why.

She didn’t understand it as days passed and all Alfie talked about was the stupid party. She didn’t understand it when he rented out one of the most expensive venues. She didn’t understand it when he laid awake the entire night before, too anxious to fall asleep. She didn’t understand it when he asked her to wear his favorite dress.

She wished that she did the moment it happened.

The clock was ticking.

“Five!”

Alfie reached for Y/n’s hand.

“Four!”

Y/n noticed something shift in the air.

“Three!”

Alfie reached his other hand into his pocket.

“Two!”

Y/n knew what was coming.

“One!”

Alfie dropped to one knee.

“Happy new year!”

It was every girl’s dream — the fireworks, the balcony, the view, the prince charming that would whisk her away to spend the rest of eternity together — yet it couldn’t have felt any more like a nightmare.

It wasn’t what she wanted. Not then, not ever before, not once during the span of their relationship, and time seemed to have stopped moving forward.

There she was, in the center of the universe as everybody stopped and stared, gasping and gushing at the sight of a man on his knees for a woman. An act of vulnerability, of love, of submission, yet it didn’t feel like any of those things.

It all felt so wrong.

She began to cry.

To everyone else, it seemed as though she was crying from happiness. Her devoted boyfriend of two years finally asked for her hand in marriage, to be the mother of his children, to spend the rest of their lives tied together by a vow, unable to be broken. So it was no surprise when everybody let out an awe of endearment, nobody (not even Alfie) knowing her well enough to distinguish the difference between her happiest and saddest cries.

Harry would have known.

And that was all it seemed to come back to in that very moment in time.

Harry.

What she would have given to feel his hands on her waist, blocking her body from view with his, taking her away from all the unwanted eyes on her fragile body. He would have done it in a heartbeat because he always did — he always found a way to help her escape her horrifying realities, even the sweetest of ones.

What she would have given for it to be him kneeling in front of her… this all would have been so different.

Her lover of two years was promising her a future, yet all she could think about was somebody stuck in her past, yet so heavily prevalent in her present.

But she couldn’t say no. How could she when everybody expected the answer he was looking for, ready to toast to the bride and groom? How could she when phones captured the beginning of the rest of their lives, ready to share for all to see?

But she couldn’t say yes, either.

She settled for a nod of her head.

The crowd cheered, some clapping, others clinking their glasses, lovers kissing. She only caught a glimpse of those celebratory moments before everything around her drowned in her tears, voices of congratulations so distant beneath her heavy, hyperventilated breaths.

Alfie embraced her, then, and she felt his laughs of euphoria rumbling in his chest as hers met his, and she couldn’t even pretend.

She rested her chin on his shoulder, her expression void of everything that she should have been feeling. And her eyes went blank as they caught a reflection of her through the balcony windows — the last time she ever saw herself for what she truly was.

That same day.

Y/n was a mess waiting for Alfie to get home.

Seeing Harry again filled her with so many different emotions, she didn’t know which one to start with. She wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to destroy everything and everybody that dared get in her way, she wanted to disappear. Yet she had done none of it. All she could manage to do was pace around her bedroom, biting at her nails and getting lost in her scrambled thoughts, her mind and body moving at a million miles an hour, unable to be tamed.

This is precisely the reason Y/n never wanted to see him again.

He does things to her, he always has. She hardly has any control over herself whenever it comes to him and she fucking hates it. No matter how sad, how mad, how hurt or how upset, there was something about his presence that made her see past all of that. It saddens her how much she used to love it.

But her moods swing at her relentlessly, the sadness turning to anger because yes, she is angry. She’s angry that he still has this much of a hold on her, especially after everything he’s done, and she’s even more angry that he hasn’t yet apologized for it.

Because it was all getting better. The constant wondering about what he’s doing or who he’s with and the continuous string of thought always leading back to him was all finally falling into its place. She was finally finding her place.

And then her fiancè did this.

When she hears the bedroom door open, she hardly gives Alfie any time before she starts a fight, wishing nothing more than to take it all out on him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Y/n fumes, everything tainted red with anger as she looks into his eyes and feels nothing but hurt and betrayal. “Inviting Harry to our wedding behind my back?! Do you not remember what he did to me?! Do you not realize what you just did?!”

He frowns, not sarcastic or menacing, but he genuinely seems upset that she’d ever even ask him such a question.

“Y/n…” Alfie sighs, and she suddenly hates the way he’s always managed to remain calm in the most heated of arguments. She wants to start a war with it, to go for the kill, to make him crawl and beg and bleed for her forgiveness. “Of course I remember what he did to you, which is exactly why I did it.”

Her hands turn to fists.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“I wanted to hurt him for hurting you! God damn it, Y/n… after finding out what he did to you all I could think about was ripping him to pieces and that urge never left me, especially after we got together.”

He slumps himself down at the foot of the bed, loosening the tie around his neck, almost too aggressively. And if she wasn’t so out of her mind enraged, she would try her hardest to understand his side.

But there is no excuse for this. There’s no excuse for any of it.

“So now you use our marriage as a way to get back at him?!”

Y/n may not love Alfie the right way, but she had never stooped so low to treat her marriage like a weapon, ready to strike at any moment in time. It wasn’t something she used to inflict pain onto anybody else but herself, no matter how hard it had gotten.

And though she once believed their engagement meant more to him than it ever meant to her, she can’t help but feel as if that’s just another lie she’d been forced to live with.

He went behind her back deliberately to hurt somebody even she never intended on hurting. He knew what was to come of this and yet here he is, letting it all happen for satisfaction’s sake.

It feels like all she will ever be is used.

“Is that what this is to you?! A point on your scoreboard?! A big ‘fuck you, i won!’?”

“Isn’t that what this is for you?”

“Don’t you dare turn this into my problem.” She spits through clenched teeth, punching at the dresser beside her with the side of her fist, face burning with fury. “I’m not the one sending him our wedding invitations!”

“And I’m not the one staying up past midnight scrolling through pictures of him on my phone!”

Her mouth shuts then, her hard and pressed features softening at the unexpected turn of the conversation.

She had been looking at pictures of Harry almost every night since Malibu, she just never expected to get caught. She could physically feel Alfie fall asleep against her, so she always waited thirty minutes before she took her phone out, looking back at everything that once was.

It was the only thing she ever truly wanted.

It’s what she kept going back to — a habit that came as naturally as telling her best friend about her day, about her perspectives on the world, about the lack of guidance in her life — like a phone call at the end of the day as a way to unwind.

She had make believe conversations with him as she scrolled endlessly through her favorite photo album, the thickness of his accent engrained in her mind as she thought of everything he’d say to her if he were still around. And if that wasn’t enough, she’d live vicariously through the memories they made together and replay those moments all night, until they lulled her to sleep.

“I told you from day one that —”

“That you’re never going to let him go, I know. I know that he was the love of your life at one point but this is just pathetic now, Y/n. Absolutely nothing short of pathetic.” She frowns, his choice of words making her heart sink because he knows exactly how to do it. And he sighs, rubbing his hands up and down his face as if he were in agony. “I didn’t know this was the kind of shit I was signing up for.”

Her eyes brim with tears but don’t offer anything more, only upset that he couldn’t find a way to understand her when she’s trying so hard. But he never has and he never will — not in the way she needs him to and not in the way that could ever make this work.

“I’m not sorry for what I did.” She confesses sadly, her bottom lip between her teeth and fingers picking the skin around her nails as she tries, yet again, to make him see. “He was my best friend before he was anything else to me. There was a time in my life where he was all I had.”

And though her heart is still with Harry in every aspect of every way, it’s true. He was her best friend and that’s what she misses the most. There was so much to him that meant so much to her and none of it could ever be replaced, not even by Alfie.

“You know I love you but you also know I'm not the same woman you fell for in Malibu. I’m my worst self when I don't have him around and your favorite parts of me don’t exist without him. Don’t pretend like you don’t see that.”

His hands twitch against his lap, his shoulders slumping because it’s true. The most lively and brightest parts of herself had died the first step she’d taken away from him that night. Sure, she’s still the most resilient and beautiful woman Alfie had ever known, but she’s never been the same since then.

She’s still in love with him and there’s nothing for him to do about it. He didn’t see it until he saw the way she sulked over Harry that night, all those years later, with a diamond ring on her finger that just seemed to weigh her down even more.

None of this means anything to her.

“It’s been three years, Y/n. Just find yourself a new best friend and move the fuck on already. I’m getting sick and tired of this.”

What he doesn’t understand is that she is, too.

Two weeks later.

Y/n shouldn’t be this alone at her own engagement party, but it’s the impossible things that always manage to find their way to her.

The party consisted mostly of Alfie’s friends, considering Y/n is much more of an introvert than he is and the small number of friends she does have seemed to have disappeared within the sea of unfamiliar faces. She felt lost for a moment, but when she finally found her fiancè, he had been too invested in his own friends to spare her a single one of his glances, and it soon became disheartening to wait for him to acknowledge her when the thought of her never once crossed his mind.

So she ends up on the steps of their back porch, sipping on a glass of champagne, overlooking the garden, breathing in the silence.

She closes her eyes and succumbs herself to the summer breeze, wondering what she has to do to find a single glimmer of happiness. Her life is just so sad, a labyrinth of betrayal and hurt and heartbreak she can’t ever escape.

Darkness is all she sees when she thinks about her future. There is nothing for her to look forward to. Every day will come and go the same way it has been — unwanted, dreaded, wasted, another failed attempt of contentment. It all seems so hopeless to her now.

The champagne doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to a lonely Y/n, and it isn’t nearly enough to curb her mood, either as she huffs at her empty glass, wishing she had taken another.

She sets it down next to her, placing both her elbows on her knees, getting lost in her world of sorrow, long forgotten by her lover.

Harry is the first one to find her.

He had parked his car across the street from her shared home with Alfie, and even from his distance he knew Y/n wouldn’t be inside. He knows her too well to know she wouldn’t find her place in crowded rooms where the attention is all on her, even if it was all in the comfort of her own home.

And the fact that Alfie didn’t know her senses of belonging well enough to accommodate them made him seeth. She is an independent, a lone wolf, a woman who moves solely in her own way and anybody who’s ever loved her knows that above all else.

He doesn’t care for her.

And he doesn’t need to go looking for her because he can feel her, as if the universe somehow bent its laws of gravity and pushed him straight to her back porch steps, where he finds her all alone.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels a hand fall softly on her shoulder, but immediately sinks into comfort when she sees that it’s Harry moving to sit beside her, his hand refusing to pull away.

Finally, she has a friend.

“Hey.” She says softly, one of the corners of her lips turning slightly upward at his unexpected visit. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

He smiles briefly at her before he overlooks the garden, his fingers squeezing at her shoulder before resting his palms over his lap. And there’s something about being next to her again that makes everything around him fall back into place. This is where he’s meant to be.

“Honestly, neither did I, all things considered.” They both let out a chuckle, the atmosphere between them so horrifically sad yet so incredibly right. “But I just really felt like I had to be here for you tonight.”

Despite the years that had passed and everything that drove them apart, Y/n remains who he loves most in this world. His connection to her never died, so the sudden gusts of off and disturbing feelings Harry used to get whenever Y/n was troubled had never left him. He felt it all just as strongly — her anxieties, her fears, her tears and everything in between. And he’s glad that part of them never died because the look in her eye tells him everything he needs to know.

She’s absolutely miserable.

She sighs, the corners of her lips falling as she stares at her engagement ring, her thumb and pinky twisting it around her ring finger, itchy and heavy no matter which way it's worn.

“Me and Alfie aren’t doing so well.”

She didn’t have to say it because he can already see how treacherous they are together, but that doesn’t make it any easier for him to hear.

He lost his right to be selfish with her in Malibu, and though he does gain a sense of happiness knowing he may have a chance with her again, it’s significantly outweighed by her sadness. Nothing had ever pained him more than that.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She shakes her head, her fingers reaching up to tuck fallen pieces of hair behind her ear.

“Don’t be. I don’t really know why he decided to do this, anyways.”

Harry’s lips fall.

“Marry you?”

Y/n’s leg begins to shake, her greatest and most absentminded nervous habit. And Harry had always been quick to place his hand over her thigh and rub at the surface, meeting her eye halfway and taking a deep breath in, to which she would always follow. He hesitates to do so tonight, but settles for it anyway.

She looks appreciative beneath it all.

She’d forgotten about Harry’s subtle favors over the past three years, so to feel it all again when she has been so low and neglected feels like a blessing to her. It feels like somebody finally cares for her, and that’s all she had been wanting all along.

Harry, she feels, is the only one who ever truly has.

“We just never talked about it. It was this big, ginormous, unavoidable, life changing question thrown at me with no warning at all.” Her forehead falls to her palms, as if humiliated by the memory. “In front of everybody.”

Harry’s heart crumbles from within him because nothing Alfie has given her has been anything she’s wanted, and that’s not what she deserves.

He remembers it so distinctively now — the way she poured her heart out to him just a few months before Malibu. It was the third Valentine’s Day they’d spent together and Y/n got so drunk, she spent nearly the entire night venting to him about everything she’d feared when it came to her future relationships.

With her head on his shoulder and her leg slung over his hips, Y/n’s thoughts were so destructive, she couldn’t bear to entertain them any longer, so she decided to let it all out.

“And what if my boyfriend proposes to me in a room full of people? I’d drown in sensory overload. And what if I want to say no? Or maybe? Or yes, just not right now? With all those people looking at me? I think I would pass away.”

Harry looked down at her in subtle curiosity, his fingers playing with her hair in the way they always liked. She was the only thing in his sight that wasn’t spinning out of his control.

“So how do you want to be proposed to?”

She hummed, as if contemplating her answer. But she knew. She already knew.

“In bed, probably. It’s so intimate and private there. So non-traditional. You’re the most done down at your first hour and something about someone wanting you at your worst, forever, is so poetic.”

She looked up at him with doe eyes merely seconds after.

“Will you make sure he does that for me, please? Promise me you’ll try.”

He smiled the best he could at her, pressing his lips down to her forehead. They lingered there for a moment, and Y/n’s breath was taken away.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

What makes the memory even worse was how much he really did love her and how blinded he was to it. He kissed her. He held her. He played with her hair. He slept beside her that night. He kissed her again goodnight. He brought her breakfast in bed the next morning. He did it all over again.

It couldn’t have been any more obvious.

But there’s something about the way she hasn’t expressed any of those concerns with Alfie that doesn’t sit right with him. It just doesn’t make any sense to him.

“Been with him for how long now, two years? And you really didn’t expect him to propose to you? Have you met you?”

She sulks herself deeper into her knees.

“I don’t know. I guess — I guess I just never really thought about it.”

Never thought about it?

“But you’ve always wanted to get married.” He says it more like a question than a statement, genuine concern and confusion in his tone of voice as his eyebrows furrow, trying to comprehend it.

She looks up at him with a void, empty expression.

“Yeah, but never to him.”

Her eyes linger on Harry’s for just a beat longer — just long enough to catch a glimpse of the way his lips fall and the way his face drains of color — before she blinks away from him, turning her gaze back toward the garden. The flowers have never looked so lifeless.

“Y/n… if I had known how you felt, I —”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Y/n shakes her head, looking back down at her trembling hands, tears now burning in her eyes as the sudden sadness of the conversation starts to weigh down on her. “You had four years to feel the same for me and you never did. My feelings would have done nothing to yours.”

“And I never did?” Harry asks incredulously, his voice low and faltered behind the heaviness of her words. “Is that really what you’ve been living with the past three years?”

Loose tears begin to fall down her cheeks because yes, she has been living with his unrequited love for six years and no, it’s never gotten any easier. It’s pathetic and ridiculous and the most unexplainable form of grief she’d ever carried, but it’s the most devastating kind. “How could I think any differently?”

“Because it was real, Y/n. Fuck.” He lets out a strangled, dry chuckle upon his words as he runs his shaking fingers through his hair. He’s nervous, absolutely terrified because if he fails to show her how deeply he feels for her now, he may never get the chance to again, and losing her is no longer an option for him. Not when she’s so close. “Because you know me better than anybody else and you know I wasn’t faking it with you. How could I have been? You would have seen right through me and you know it. You always do.”

Perhaps the love blinded her. Perhaps her heart was so invested it deceived her to see only the things she wanted as a subconscious form of self-preservation. It’s not an impossible possibility, and it’s certainly one she believed in throughout all this time, but a part of her can’t help but find a hint of truth stuck somewhere between his words.

The kissing, the touching, the tasting, the laughing and the loving did feel real to her. It felt real when she saw the way he smiled after every one of their kisses, and the way he reached for her when it was just to two of them, like he couldn’t get enough, and the way he moaned against her, and the way he told her he loved her, like he meant it.

She knows all of his movements and all of his habits — knows all the signs of his stress, his sadness, his tension, his ease. She knows the emotions he wears and the ones he doesn’t, notices everything he does and doesn’t do, and never once did anything he did with her seem anything less than genuine.

She hates that it’s taken her so long to see that, but it doesn’t fix all that he had broken now that she does. She wishes that it could, this life would be so much easier for her to live.

“You really hurt me.” Her voice quivers, low and quiet as she speaks her truth, and it breaks his heart all over again. Never has he heard her sound so sad in his life, and it’s all because of him.

“You think I don’t know that? I hate myself for everything I put you through because you didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

He pauses, waiting for her to say anything else, but it doesn’t come. All there is for her to offer are her silent cries and waterfall eyes.

“That night with Lydia… nothing happened. She caught me off guard and I panicked because how could I not? She was giving me everything I thought I wanted yet all I could think about was how I wanted it to be you.” Y/n’s breath falters then, a knot forming in her chest as she revisits the sight of that horrific night. “I tried so hard to talk it out with her, but she wouldn’t let it go. She kept persisting and persisting and she didn’t give me the chance to explain myself before you walked in on us.”

She didn’t truly know what happened between him and Lydia, but she had her ideas. Whether they kissed, touched, confessed their love or crossed bases, the truth would have only made it worse for herself. Ignorance was bliss when it came to them.

But she didn’t think nothing happened, either, especially when the first words that Y/n heard Lydia say to him that night was I love you, too.

Too.

Like he said it first.

She really hopes he didn’t, but she’s so afraid of his answer that she doesn’t ask.

But she doesn’t say anything else, either, because there’s so much more she needs to hear from him but she doesn’t know where to start. She doesn’t know what to do, yet she wants to know everything.

“You were all I ever wanted and I’m so sorry for the way I had to find that out. I’m so sorry that I had to hurt you to realize how ridiculously in love I am with you.”

And how ridiculous it’s gotten.

“It haunts me. It follows me everywhere I go. Every morning, I think about the way you slept beside me in Malibu and how perfect you looked before you even had the chance to wake. I still reach for you even when I know you’re not there just so I can say I tried. Every time I walk the street, I somehow convince myself that I see you walk past me and I always turn back just in case I missed you. Then I spend the rest of my day wondering where you are and how much happier I’d be if you were with me.”

And it’s all so true.

She is around him at all times. Her spirit lingers in the air he breathes, her shadow alive in every ray of sun that touches his skin, unable to be soaked away. The ghost of her is everywhere he is, always, and it pained him just as much as it comforted him.

“I come across all these women and go on all these dates in hopes to find someone that makes me feel half the things you do, just to go home hours later and watch all the stupid videos and photos I’ve taken of you throughout the years because it’s you that my heart is after. Nobody else.”

She melts into herself at his confession.

To know it wasn’t one-sided — the longing, the missing, the wanting so bad that he couldn’t help but look back at all their memories together. Whether he was beside those women or not, she had done the very same thing, and it’s almost as if those hidden moments of desperation were a silent call to one another.

He reaches his hand to her thigh again, his skin warming her to her bitter core, setting a fire in her that had burnt out many years ago. And she doesn’t stop staring at it.

“I love you, Y/n. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything else in this world. I love you so much that it drove me crazy to think about you spending the rest of your life with somebody else because I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of mine without you. But that’s my heartbreak to live with, not yours.”

But it is. It is because he’s the only one she’s ever wanted and living her life with someone else was once unimaginable. It still is. Even through her relationship with Alfie and everything they’ve built together, it wasn’t ever the same.

And it’s not a matter of her not loving him, because she does, just not in the way she loves Harry. He is a high she constantly fiends for, an intoxication that keeps her wild and free, an addiction like no other. Being without him makes her feel sober — in a constant state of withdrawal, falling down deeper into her urges, dependent solely on her relapses — and Alfie is just the mild distraction.

All of this is her heartbreak.

His fingertips rub softly at her leg.

“You’re the best person I’ve ever known. I don't know how I’m ever going to find a way to move on from you, and I don’t know if I ever will, but at least I had the chance to tell you everything you deserved to know. I didn’t think I’d ever have it.”

She still doesn’t answer him, but he didn’t expect anything more.

He wishes he could stay with her for just a bit longer, but he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome (if he could even call it that). And he starts to cry as he thinks about leaving her alone again.

She’s forever going to be his hardest loss.

“I have so much more I want to say to you, but this is your night with Alfie. I don’t want to be the one to hold you back from it.”

He squeezes the top of her thigh, dreading the let go. This may be the last time he sees her or speaks to her for a while, and that in itself is enough to make this so much harder on him.

“I’ll miss you everyday.”

He can’t even look at her as he says it.

His eyes are flooded with sadness as he stands from where he sat beside her, shaking fingers wiping at his tears, his heart the emptiest it’s ever been yet his chest heavier than ever before.

It suddenly dawns on her that she never wants to see him walk away from her again. She doesn’t want to go another dreaded day without him beside her, or go the rest of the night thinking of everything she could have said, but didn’t.

She wants him. She loves him. And she doesn’t want him to go.

“Wait.” She grabs his hand in both of hers before he can make it too far, her eyes wet but the brightest he’d ever seen them. “The party doesn’t end for a while and — and Alfie hasn’t come looking for me since it started, so…” She hesitates, his hands still in hers, and everything is right in the world again. “Do you want to take a walk with me? It doesn’t matter where just, please stay here with me?”

And how could Harry ever say no to her?

He lifts her up from where she sits, the first real and genuine smile he’s seen out of her since they’ve reunited spreading on her lips, and he wouldn’t trade this for the world.

They stray further than expected, catching up on everything they’ve missed throughout the years. It all feels so easy and so right, as if time had hardly passed between them, yet they’ve never felt more apart. Never once did they expect to live in each other’s world through late night storytelling and clandestine getaways.

They laugh. They cry. They reminisce. And they don’t let go of each other’s hand the whole night through.

Y/n returns to the back porch a couple hours later, grabbing the finished champagne glass she’d left on the top step to seem as inconspicuous as possible. Not that she necessarily has to, she doesn’t feel as though she’s done anything wrong, she just couldn’t imagine what would come from this if Alfie was to find out.

She slides the back door shut quietly behind her, the remaining guests only giving her a small smile of acknowledgement, none at all suspicious. Some offer her hugs and mingle with her, congratulating her as if it were their first time doing so, telling her how perfect of a marriage she and Alfie are going to have.

If only they knew.

But it isn’t until the last of the lingering guests make it out the door that Y/n and Alfie are left alone — the most dangerous place for them to be. And neither of them speak a word to each other, just meeting eyes for a brief moment in time, as if avoiding everything else that came with the night.

The air is heavy, the chill brutal, but it’s what Y/n is so used to. This is her normalcy.

“I’m glad you had fun tonight.” Y/n says plainly, gathering all the littered champagne and wine glasses floating around the kitchen.

In any other circumstance, she would have stood her ground much more strongly, but the bitterness inside her subsided to something much sweeter after her time with Harry. The weight of the world is gone, it seems, the moon and sun and stars aligned perfectly in her universe. She is weightless, floating, her spirit dancing along the edges of her own personal heaven.

The silence Alfie responds with doesn’t strike a nerve like it usually would. It rather goes unnoticed, only furthering her into her illicit dreamland.

Harry’s touch lingers on her skin and she can feel it all the same even though he’s gone. A shiver runs down her spine as she thinks back to the way his lips pressed against her cheek before parting ways, muttering the quietest goodnight, lovie against her skin, leaving her breathless.

She is endlessly hypnotized by him, forever under his spell, as if his lips were made of magic.

And Alfie’s heart sinks when he sees the look on her face. It’s been years since he’s seen it, yet it’s all so familiar once he does. It’s the same look he fell in love with when he first met her in Malibu.

It’s all so clear to him now.

“So we’re just going to pretend that you didn’t leave our engagement party with Harry?”

Y/n lifts her head to look at him properly for what seems to be the first time tonight, his question catching her off guard since she had so rightfully assumed he wasn’t concerned about her whereabouts, and Harry didn’t make his presence known to anybody but her.

But she doesn’t fight it, doesn’t deny it, doesn’t try to scrape for excuses that’ll only dig her in deeper because she doesn’t regret what she did or why she did it. She has no reason to.

“And we’re just going to pretend that you didn’t completely exclude me from our engagement party?”

Alfie’s hands slam against the kitchen counter, a bitter and sarcastic laugh falling from his lips, as if she had said something untrue. “So I don’t give you attention for two minutes and you decide to run off with some other guy?”

“Two minutes? Try two hours on a night that was supposed to be for us.” It’s her turn to slam her hands down, except hers land on her thighs. “I was sitting on our back porch all night and nobody, not even you, came looking for me.” She sits down on the island stool with burnt-out eyes and heavy shoulders, drained from the reality of their relationship, tired of trying for somebody that’s never held her heart the right way. “Harry was miles away and even he found a way to find me.”

And just like always, it all circles back to Harry.

She’s never been one to compare — verbally, at least — so there is a gloom that hovers over her after she says it, the guilt settling in her bones, but it’s the reality of their situation. An old lover held his hand out to her while Alfie refused hers, and it ended up exactly where it had always belonged.

“All you had to do was ask me to be with you.” He sighs, depleted, because it’s true. He would have been there the second she called his name. It’s the fact that she didn’t that shows him how incompatible he is with her wants.

“I shouldn’t have to.” She frowns, fingers fiddling with the skin around her nails as she contemplates what there is to say next. “Is that how this marriage is going to work? Me begging you to be there for me all the time? Because I’ve never been that kind of person. I will never be that person.”

Alfie breathes heavily in response but doesn’t know what else to do or say to get her to stay. She’s slipping right through his fingers and he can physically feel it — can feel the way she feels for another man, can see the way her eyes refuse him, as if hiding away from something.

But this isn’t about him, it can’t be because it was all going so well, so much better than ever before and nothing ever pushed her away, until Harry.

This is all him.

“You know he doesn’t love you, right?” Alfie breaks the silence, her heart along with it, because she needs to be reminded how badly he had done her wrong. She wouldn’t be turning him into the villain if she did. “He lied to you. He used you to get what he wanted. He —”

“He does love me.” She interrupts him because she doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want him to talk her out of this, no matter how much she should. But it’s on the tip of her tongue, almost breaking from its resistance, and she can’t swallow it back down now. “He was there for me more than you were tonight and he’s not even the one I’m engaged to.”

Another deafening silence.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He understood her, loud and clear, but she’s speaking between the lines. There’s a part of her that’s holding back from something and he already knows what it is, he just needs to hear her say it.

So she does.

“I’m in love with him, Alfie.”

If the confession of her disloyalty wasn’t enough to tear her apart, the choked back sob she heard from Alfie undeniably did so.

She shuts her eyes, pained, unable to take it.

He doesn’t deserve this, but she’s left with no choice. She’ll only hurt him more if she stays.

So she doesn’t.

The morning after.

Harry didn’t know what was to come after he confessed his love to Y/n — whether it be a new day of a new life away from her, or the beginning of something so beautifully timeless, he had no idea.

The closure warmed him enough to lull him to sleep, to keep him deep in a dreamstate where all he envisioned was sunny days and the touch of her hand in his. He had never felt so light, so free, so liberated from the cage of guilt and unspoken truths that even if he were to never see or hear from Y/n again, it would have been okay.

He said what he needed to say, she heard what she wanted to hear and that’s all he could have done without interfering with her relationship.

But what he wakes up to is far from anything that ever crossed his mind.

Seven missed calls and five text messages. All from Y/n.

H, please tell me you’re awake. I need you.

I ended it with Alfie.

I don’t have anywhere to go and you’re the only person I want to see right now. Can you meet me at the coffee shop? I really need to talk to you.

Please wake up.

Harry sits himself up in a state of panic, his eyes jumping between the time she had messaged him last and the time it is now. And he springs himself out of bed when he realizes that he hasn’t missed out on her yet, planning to get to her as fast as he can as he throws yesterday’s outfit, not at all caring about how it makes him look.

She ended it with Alfie.

He’s the only person she wants to see right now.

She needs him.

That’s all he can process as he scurries down the street, thinking of everything he has left to tell her to try and win her heart again. He knows he’s undeserving of it, and she does too, but that doesn’t stop him from loving her the way that he does.

His life is meaningless without her, so dry and bleak and depressing he can’t live another day like it. He can’t and he won’t because he’s going to fix this. He has to fix this.

And it doesn’t take him long to find her because there she is, sitting at their usual outdoor table, a large hot tea held between her hands, her leg shaking, her eyes distant. It's such a heartbreaking sight, and he suddenly wonders if she ever sat there after their breakup, waiting for him, hoping he’d do the very same.

The thought makes his head twitch to the side and fingers twist with guilt because no, he never did. He never went back to that coffee shop since the goodbye. It would have hurt too much, it would have reminded him of everything he’d ever done wrong and he couldn’t bear to face the person he once made of himself.

That person died along with her.

She stands from her seat when she sees him walking toward her, exhausted mentally and physically enough to nearly fall from her feet in the process. But her heart is racing a million miles an hour, her stomach fluttering as he grows nearer, her senses of anything but the love she has for him disappearing to nothing, as if it were just the two of them.

And she just needs to know if it feels that way for him, too.

“Y/n —”

“Did you mean it?”

Harry hesitates then, stopping in his tracks, his head tilting at her in curiosity but his features are softer, sadder, as if the question somehow broke him down further than before.

She doesn’t need to elaborate because he already understands what she’s asking. It was his mistakes and his selfishness that led her to question all his intentions, to doubt every sentiment he’s ever given to her, to wonder what was real and what was pretend.

But he doesn’t know what to start with, he doesn’t know what she needs to hear from him to be satisfied with his answer, or know if what he doesn’t say is what breaks this relationship.

“I need you to look at me and tell me that you meant it.” Y/n demands when he fails to answer her, tears flooding yet her face pressed and hard, committed to hearing every last bit of truth he has left. “Because I gave up everything I had for just the smallest possibility that you did. And that may make me weak, that may make me pathetic, and I may hate myself for the rest of my life knowing I made that decision but I can’t help feeling the way I feel for you.”

This is his last chance.

The window of opportunity is open and he is more than willing to dive head first out of it, but he can’t get ahead of himself. One wrong move, one wrong word, one wrong anything and he will have to endure an eternity of misery without her.

So he gives her more than she demands.

He grabs her face between his two hands, gently stroking her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, his gaze set on hers so that she can see how deeply he feels for her and how desperate he is for her forgiveness.

“I meant it.” He breathes out, his lips so painfully close to hers, she can feel his breath as he talks and it makes her legs shake from beneath her. “I’m in love with you. You’re all I think about. You’re all I want.” He leans in closer, ever so slightly, just so the ghost of her lips can meet the ghost of his. “There’s never been anybody but you. Just you. Only you.”

Her breath stammers, quivering and cracking as she flutters her eyes shut at his words, unforgiving tears pouring down her cheeks. And she doesn’t know why she’s reacting this way — the love of her life is giving her everything she’s ever asked for and yet all she can manage to do is break down from everything she’d been keeping inside for so long.

He knees buckle as a particularly violent sob nearly takes her down, and if it wasn’t for Harry’s strong hold on her, she’s sure she would have collapsed to the floor.

Her tears, his shirt, his hands, her back.

This is the closest they’ve been to each other in so long, his heart nearly shatters along with hers. He missed this more than he missed anything else in this world.

“Don’t cry, baby. It’s alright. You’re alright.” Harry shushes her, his lips settling on the top of her head as he presses chaste kisses on it, his fingers combing through her unbrushed hair. “I’m with you, okay? I’m never leaving you again.”

And he holds her for a while, tying her together as she falls apart in his arms, vowing to her over and over again that this is all over. All the pain is over. Everything will be different now.

And it was.

It felt different when Y/n and Harry spent the rest of the morning sitting in their favorite coffee shop, at their favorite table, drinking their favorite lattes. It felt different when Harry reached his hand over to hold hers, this time with no ulterior motive.

It felt different when she held his hand back, and when she smiled down at where they were intertwined, as if they were an extension of each other.

And unlike the last time they were there together, he doesn’t have to let go.

#harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #IM EARLY I KNOW IM SORRY BUT I FINISHED SOONER THAN EXPECTED #WHOOP WHOOP #LOVE YALL

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chocolateheart · 3 years

Text

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

Tag list is open! :)

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Tag list: @deanwanddamons @jay-and-dean @katehuntington @winchest09 @talesmaniac89 @roonyxx @bunkerconfessions @akshi8278 @snffbeebee @lady-pswrld @rvgrsbrns @polina-93 @teresa-67 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @mrspeacem1nusone @flamencodiva @cutiecowgirl @waywardbaby @flashxspn @lyarr24

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hallelujahmeatgod · 3 years

Text

GUILT

+Keisuke Baji x reader

+Baji seeing you cry for the first time.

+warning/s: lil' angst, cursing.

+word count: 2723

You tapped your pen anxiously against your desk, more than ready to sprint the fuck out of the classroom.

You kept looking back and forth to your phone, your teacher and the clock. No control at all over the anxiety creeping into your system as time passes by.

Earlier, when you were just about to answer an exam you received a message from Mitsuya. You almost ignored it because you want to be as focused as you can be on the exam because you're not one to take studying lightly.

But thank goodness you did peek at it, but when you did your heart literally fell to your stomach and the whole world felt like it crashed down on top of you, full weight all on you, crushing you.

The message goes: Hey, you're probably taking an exam right now so I don't want to bother you, but I know for a fact you wouldn't forgive us if no one informed you about this right now. Baji, he's badly wounded right now. He confronted the men from the other gang that had disrespected Mikey, and he got beat up, pretty badly. It's so bad we needed to take him to the hospital. I can't really tell you not to panic or worry, but please try to stay as calm as you can. We got him. We'll look after him until you can come.

So there you are contemplating whether you should be relieved that you had read it right away or maybe you should've just read it after the exams so that you wouldn't feel like just fleeing right now. You never answered an exam so fast in your life.

After what seems like an eternity, the papers are finally submitted and you're dismissed. You fled the classroom in a flash, not even bothering to put your stuff back in your bag properly.

You power walked to the hospital, your heart pounding hard through your chest as if it's about to jump out. On your way there, there is nothing on your mind but Baji being in a fucked up state right now, because they don't usually have to be taken to the hospital. Even if they're all messed up they never really get patched up in the hospital, so Baji being admitted to the hospital means he's just NOT OKAY. He might just be in a gruesome state.

"You better be fucking okay or I'll beat you up even more." You mumbled through gritted teeth, sniffling, holding back the tears threatening to fall.

When you finally got to the hospital and got that hospital scent, shivers ran down your spine. You hate hospitals.

When you got to the floor he's in you saw the members all waiting outside the emergency room.

"Y/n!" Emma called, ushering you.

"He's in there right now. He's in really bad shape, I'm gonna be honest with you. He could barely breathe on his own when we saw him. But thankfully, we got to him quickly so we were able to get him here right away. You okay?" Mikey filled you in, holding you by the shoulders. You looked back at him, nodding, not really showing much emotions because honestly you're lost right now. You don't know which emotion to feel.

He could barely breathe. That played in your mind nonstop, making you just want to drop down to the floor and weep. But you can't be a weeping mess when he's fighting for his life inside. You have to be strong, so you can punch him in the face when you get to him. How stupid to confront those men by himself.

You looked around the guys, some of them giving you worried looks in which you returned with a weak smile, nodding at them to assure them you're fine. You're fucking not. You're far from it.

Your eyes fell on Chifuyu who's sitting on the ground, head hanging low. He's the only one who didn't greet you, when usually he'd be the first one to do so. You walked to him and sat beside him on the floor.

"Are you okay?" You asked the blonde who's literally burning holes on the ground by how intense he's looking at it.

His features softened when he heard you. He slowly looked at you, giving you a defeated look. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't able to protect and help him. I should've been there with him. I didn't know." He said, almost choking as he fought the tears.

You brought your hand to his head, caressing it lightly. “Nobody knew, so don't beat yourself up for it. Let’s be strong and beat him together when he’s better, then let's share peyoung noodles by ourselves, how about that?” Chifuyu instantly lit up, nodding his head like an excited puppy who’s owner just came home.

You guys waited for hours, which felt like an eternity. Some guys were eventually dismissed by Mikey though they didn't want to leave, since you guys were cramming the waiting area.

You just sat there in silence, not being your usual loud and talkative self. I mean, how could you? That very stupid, hard headed guy who you love so much is in the emergency room in whatever fucked up state he's in.

"Who are the relatives of Keisuke Baji?" A doctor finally came out, looking around the room.

All of you stood up, looking at the doctor expectantly. The group made way for Mikey, Chifuyu, and you to step up to the doctor. "We all are." Mikey answered for all of you.

"Well" The doctor cleared his throat. "He was in such a bad condition when you admitted him, which is why it took quite some time to tend to him. There was a moment when he couldn't breath by himself and his pulse was too weak."

Every single one of you looked down, Emma and some men including Chifuyu started tearing up. There's really nothing you can hear but the doctor flipping through the pages on his board and their sniffling.

"H-how is he now?" You found the courage to speak up. Your voice never sounded so low, so weak, and fragile. Lord knows you're more than ready to have a breakdown right now. But you just have to find out this instant how he's doing, because one more moment of not knowing might just make your head explode.

"He's not in the best condition." The doctor announced. If your heart had already sunk earlier, now your heart feels as if it's just been shattered.

"He's got bruises all over his body as well as broken bones. He's probably not gonna be able to move or do very physical activities for quite some time. But he's a lucky guy. Though bruised up and fractured, we didn't see any serious problems that might put his health at risk, and that's because you were able to admit him here right away. He just needs to rest up and let his wounds and injuries heal."

There it is, the rainbow after the storm, the light at the end of the tunnel.

A breath all of you unknowingly had been holding was released all at once. The sad cries are now replaced with happy ones. You engulfed Chifuyu in a warm hug, keeping him up for his legs had given up on him. You eventually felt a tap on your shoulder, and when you looked back it was Mikey.

"Doctor said we can go check on him now. You should go." He smiled at you and you gave him back a smile, understanding what he's trying to say.

"Fuyu, wanna come with me?" You looked back at Chifuyu just as you were about to enter Baji's room.

"You should go" Chifuyu gave you a knowing smile. You smiled weakly at all of them and they returned it with nods of encouragement and reassurances.

You took a deep breath, trying to clear your mind before entering fully.

There he lies, whole body, from head to toe wrapped in gauze. If this were any other occasion that isn't serious you would have probably even joked that he looked like a mummy.

He instantly felt your presence so he whipped his head towards your direction, briefly forgetting that he's in no good state so he ended up wincing from the sore neck.

"Take it easy there" You made your way to him, voice filled with concern.

He just gave you one of his strong stares, almost like a glare, not saying a word.

"A-are you feeling much better--"

"I am, stop worrying." He said in an almost annoyed tone, turning his head to the side to avoid your gaze. Which confused you. Why's he acting this way? Is he in any position to even act this way?

"What's the problem, Baji?" You asked as calmly as you can because the last thing you want is to fight him in his current situation.

He clicked his tongue, confirming that he was annoyed. "Just leave me alone" He said in a very dismissive way that really made you stare at him in shock.

You didn't move. You don't even feel like you're breathing. You just looked at him trying to decipher the situation in front of you, trying to decipher him.

All the emotions you’ve been trying hard to control have just sprung free, not giving you any more chance to control them. You’re starting to get so overwhelmed that you didn't even realize that tears are falling down your eyes. You only realized it yourself when you heard your own sob escape your lips.

Baji looked at you in a flash when he heard that sound. A sound he's never heard from you before. When he looked at you, you were dropping to your knees as you sobbed uncontrollably.

This is the first time he's seeing you cry and he hates it already.

All the attitude, annoyance, and frustrations he has was suddenly washed away with panic. He tried propping himself up but he physically just can't. The sound of your sobs is so painful that it feels as though he's being stabbed in the heart.

"Y-Y/n, w-why-- I-I" He stuttered, unable to speak properly.

You looked up at him from the ground, vision cloudy because of the tears pooling on your eyes. "D-don't ask me to leave you alone, Baji. Not wh-when I felt like I was g-gonna die when I found out y-you're hurt." You sobbed harder. "I was w-worried sick, Baji! When I found out about you being beaten up there's nothing else I want to do but be where you are and save you. I wanted to leave everything earlier, it took everything in me to not storm out of the classroom to get to you. My fucking world COLLAPSED, I was scared as shit, just imagining you fucking beaten black and blue. Imagining you heaving for fucking air while you lay on the cold, hard concrete fucking broke my heart. I was shattered completely because there's a small voice in my head that says I can lose you. AND I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING LOSE YOU. You're the only one I've ever loved like this, so If I were to lose you how am I going to continue living? I don't want to be in a lifetime without you in it, because then I'd just be existing, not living." You looked into his eyes, tears still falling from yours. He's also got tears running down his cheeks as he laid flat on the bed, can't really do anything because his body wouldn't let him. All he could do was cry out as he felt the guilt creep up his chest, swallowing his heart whole.

No words were said nor exchanged for a while after that. The only sound to be heard in the room are both of your small sobs, sniffling, and the beeps from the monitors connected to him.

“Come here.” Was the first thing he said when he managed to calm down a bit.

You slowly looked up from the floor, wiping your tears as you blink the remaining tears on your eyes away. He just looked down at you waiting for you. You didn’t ask anymore, you just stood up and walked to the side of his bed, towering over him.

He patted his chest looking at you with guilt. You didn’t put up a fight and gently laid your head on his chest, carefully wrapping your arms on his torso. This is what you’ve been meaning to do ever since you laid eyes on him. This is what you’ve been wanting to feel, his warmth and his beating heart giving you the reassurance that he’s right here.

“I-I’m very sorry” He breathed out, voice shaky. “I shouldn’t have acted like that, it was very immature. I just hate worrying people and I saw it all over your face when you came in. But what I hate even more is seeing you cry, and knowing that it’s because of me broke me even more. I’m so sorry for worrying you, for making you feel helpless, and for making you cry. I love you.”

You just sobbed on his chest, nuzzling more onto them as he wrapped one of his arms around your torso and the other to your head. Feeling his gentle breathing and the beat of his heart under you instantly washed all your worries away.

“I love you too.” You said, lifting your head, kissing the hand he has on your head before resting your chin on his chest so you can look at him. “Don’t do that shit again, Baji. You’re in a gang for a reason, you have like a hundred other guys with you so you should’ve asked for their help or talked to them about it first. I know you got offended on behalf of Mikey but I'm pretty sure he didn’t want you ending up in this state for him. This is seriously a stupid stunt. You even made Fuyu cry, you jerk!” You fully stood up, hitting him lightly on the chest. Light but hard enough for it to hurt, because you want that shit to hurt.

“OWWW!” He yelled. You just rolled your eyes at him, but then brushed some hair out of his face.

“I’m serious, don’t do that again.” You said, looking deeply into his deep dark eyes. He nodded at you leaning on your hand that’s still brushing his hair. “Promise?”

He tugged on your hand and connected your lips. Your lips danced slowly yet passionately. Everything else that he can’t put into words you completely felt through the kiss. “Promise” He breathed out. You gave him a warm smile and stood up straight.

“You better keep that promise because if you don’t expect me to beat you up, and I know Chifuyu wouldn’t think twice helping me”

“You guys are mean” He pouted.

“And you’re stupid” You retorted. Before the conversation could turn into a full blown argument, Chifuyu’s head popped inside the room.

“BAJI-SANNNNN~ Nice to see you’re still intact, considering you’re a dumbass.” Chifuyu chirped, standing beside you making you laugh.

“So everyone’s really gonna slap it to me that I’m stupid huh?” Baji groaned.

“Oh for sure. You’ll probably even get an actual slap from Mikey, maybe even a kick, who knows?” Chifuyu shrugged while lifting a plastic bag. “Y/n, look what I got!” He said fishing out the content inside. You snickered when you figured out what it was and you gave Baji a devilish look.

✨PEYOUNG NOODLES✨

“You know how we plan to share one after we beat him up when he’s all good? Well since it’ll take time for us to beat him up, might as well eat now since he did exhaust us” Chifuyu grinned and you pat his head, giving him a proud parent look.

“Good call, Fuyu! Let’s eat!” You chirped.

“You guys aren’t seriously going to eat that in front of me right?” Baji gave you and Chifuyu a desperate look but you two just shrugged.

“ITADAKIMASU!!!” You and Chifuyu exclaimed, digging into your shared peyoung noodles.

“I’d rather be beaten up by those guys again than endure this torture. You spawns of the devil!” Baji groaned.

#tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revenger imagines #keisuke baji #baji keisuke #tokyo revengers baji #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revenger x reader #tokrev baji #baji x reader #tokrev #toman baji #baji imagines #i freaking miss baji huhu i cant bye

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spinster-sisters · 3 years

Text

Criminal. khj

TW: Violence kinda, weapons kinda, illegal stuff obviously, exhibitionism, marking, posesiveness, gang? au? possibly, I honestly dont know what this is.

WC: 6k

I normally dont do summaries but I got a funny one:

You and your boyfriend escape a bank robbery.

The toe of your shoe clicks against the marble floor as you tap your foot. Across the room, high up on the wall there is an analog clock ticking down the seconds. It’s getting late, and the bank teller couldn’t be going any slower. Only two people ahead of you now.

You check your phone for the fifth time in the past 10 minutes, no update. Must not be running as late as you thought. You shift your weight to your other foot only to start taping once again. Ok sure, you weren’t late, it doesn’t mean you like how long this damn lady is taking.

The line moves up as the teller begins helping the next person. You attempt to swallow your impatience as best you can, pulling out your phone again to quickly slide between apps, but the longer you stand there the louder the ticking of the clock seems to echo around the room.

Looking away from your device, you take another look around the room. Nothing has changed since you came in. In between the doors and the lines, there was a seating area filled with two uncomfortable-looking couches facing each other and a coffee table between them. There were still 3 tellers sitting at their desks, 10 customers in line counting you. Two in the first line, three in the second, yourself, and two others in the last. About as busy as you would expect at this time of day. But the waiting still sucked.

Finally, you hear the teller ask “is there anything else I can help you with?” And you know that soon it will be your turn at the window. Pulling out your phone again you shoot a quick text.

[ it’s my turn next, hopefully, I’ll be out of here soon ]

1:24pm

Just as the woman in front of you steps away a notification dings on your phone.

[ See you soon ;) ]

1:25pm

You sighed at your boyfriend's message, thinking the winky face was a bit on the nose for your taste. But Hongjoong liked to tease.

Dropping your phone back into your pocket, you look up just as the teller motions you forward. The click of your shoe against the tile seems almost deafening in the quiet room as you step forward, trying to mask the small smile Hongjoong’s message had given you.

“what can I help you with today?” The lady at the counter-question with subdued chirpiness. Clearly, she has had a long day, already ready for it to be over. The thought made you wince.

“Hi, there seems to be a problem with the direct deposit on my account. My last paycheck didn’t go in.” You start, placing both hands on the counter.

The teller nods, with mock understanding, clearly just an impulse for years of customer service. Somewhere outside several car doors slam, but no one inside seems to notice the sound.

“Could I have the number of the account?” The teller asks, placing both hands on the keyboard and frowning at the screen, prepared to type whatever comes out of your mouth. You don’t have time to say it.

All the lights on the monitor suddenly shut off. The woman helping you looks taken aback for a second, looking over to her coworkers only to see them doing the same. The hairs on the back of your neck shoot up as nerves build in your stomach.

The next thing happens so quickly you barely register it. The glass door slides open and a metal canister flies into the room. Acting on instinct your hands fly to your ears, your eyes screwed shut, and you drop to your knees. Even with your ears covered it does little to silence the ear-splitting bang that rips through the room. It sends the rest of the room's inhabitants to the floor seconds after you, either from shock or from the disorienting mix of light and sound that came from the small device.

Flashbang.

Your heart jumps up to your throat. You open your eyes but did not let your hands drop just yet. The ring was still sounding in the room, but the blinding light had gone. Just as the last of the ringing fizzled out the doors slid open again.

A group of masked figures took confident strides into the room. Your eyes searched the street behind them, looking for anyone who might notice what’s going on. There was no one. Your stomach dropped again. The others in the room finally seemed to be regaining their hearing and sight, only to shriek when the men came into view. Swallowing your nerves you do a headcount of the patrons. Three tellers, ten customers including yourself. All adults, no children. That was good, children would cause problems.

After assessing the situation and taking a few deep breaths, you look over to the group of men who were starting to spread out around the room. The more you looked at them the more frightening they appeared. Each of the men were were dressed head to toe in black with a mask covering the bottom half of their faces, but even as you sized them up you avoided looking at their eyes, drawing attention to yourself now would be stupid.

Every one of them carried a gun. But as they fanned out across the room only one had it pointed. The same one that spoke.

“Anyone not on the ground better get that way. We don’t have all day.” The voice that spoke was calm but had a clear edge. The tones meaning ran clear in your ears as much as everyone else’s, calm does not mean forgiving. You kept your head down, trying your best to sink into the shadows trying to avoid drawing attention to yourself, that’s what people always said to do right?

You heard a few thuds as the few people in the room who remained standing dropped to the floor. None of the other patrons or staff said a word. Thank god, fighting would make this much more difficult.

“Great, now I want everyone’s hands on the ground in front of them. Try to call anyone and one of us will put a new hole in your head, so why don’t we make this easy and nobody make a sound.” The voice continued in that same tone. Your eyes shot up to make sure everyone was following orders as you placed your own hands on the cold tile next to your bare knees, they were already getting stiff and you hoped this would be over quickly.

A few of the men began walking through the people on the floor, hands on their guns but not drawn, checking just as you did that everyone was behaving. As one of the taller ones drifted toward your spot you stared at the same tile a few feet ahead of you, matching the other patrons around you.

You heard the heavy thuds of footsteps as they paused in front of you, just for a moment. You felt the gaze burn into the top of your skull as you stared forward, holding your breath.

“You don’t look nearly scared enough.” The new voice spoke, completely nonchalant. The next moment, a heavy leather boot pressed down onto your hand, crushing it against the tile. You winced and let out a small cry as pain shot up your arm. It stung as he dug his foot harder onto your hand. Both hands started to shake as the pain built, the knot that had formed in your chest from the moment the flash-bang fell through the air tightened till your breath became choked and shaky. Suddenly the pressure was gone.

“Much better,” the voice all but giggled before moving on.

You took a heaving breath as soon as the boots left your field of vision. You felt sweat start to form on your brow bone. You looked up again. A few terrified faces of other patrons looked at you with fear, clearly expecting that the man was going to blow your head off.

The man who spoke first stepped forward and motioned to the middle teller who was watching petrified from behind his desk, head barely peeking over the edge.

“You,” he started again, taking long strides across the room, walking within a few feet from you on your right side to the opening that led behind the counter, “Why don’t you show me to the safe?” He asked, voice still disconcertingly cordial. The teller gapped for a moment, and the man tilted his head expectantly. The teller stumbled to his feet, eyes not moving from the shiny gun trained on him. He did little more than gesture vaguely for the man to follow him before they both disappeared behind the doors that lead to the back of the bank, 2 of the other men followed behind him.

The room was stiff with tension. For the patrons at least. All of you seemed to be holding your breath, but the men could not seem calmer. Their postures were relaxed, many of them had their arms crossed over their chest or were leaning against furniture. None of them even had their weapons drawn, but they were still visible. Enough to keep everyone shaking with fear with their heads down. It was bizarre but effective for the time being.

Your head was absolutely swimming. Trying to keep notice of the positions of everyone in the room, taking shooting glances around for a few seconds at a time, checking the faces of your fellow hostages. Everyone knows in situations like this it’s best to just comply, you sure fucking hoped the others knew that as well. You tried to lead by example anyway. And then there were the men. You didn’t dare look any one of them in the eye, knowing what kind of consequences that would bring. But you tried to keep tabs on them. They weren’t moving much in the few minutes since the three men disappeared with the teller, but any slight movement they gave was noteworthy into your mind. You had to keep things under control.

The minutes ticked on in almost complete silence, save for the one man who was humming of all things. How could they possibly be relaxed right now you did not know. The sound was harsh against your ears for how gentle it was, it kept distracting you from your thoughts.

The thought in question was a dangerous one. Your back was beginning to ache from being hunched over and your palms were sweating uncomfortably against the marble. From where you sat against the furthest teller window you were blocked from the direct view of every robber by either furniture or walls. What you wanted to do was risky, any slight movement on their behaves would land you in their line of sight. That was an opportunity for anyone who could take it.

You need to text Hongjoong. He needed to know what was going on. You watched the men carefully for the next few minutes, looking for any sign that they might start looking around, but they all seemed perfectly content in their places. With a shaking hand, you slowly began reaching into your pocket. You managed to pull the device out without anyone noticing, but as you slid it into your lap and under your shirt one of the other patrons saw, and their eyes shot wide open. Shit.

They looked at you with frantic, pleading eyes that screamed call for help. They were looking too obvious. You swallowed and shook your head, trying to get them to look away, but they didn’t.

“Heads down,” a deep voice called. Both you and the other patron snapped your eyes to the floor, but after listening for a few seconds it didn’t sound like anyone was moving toward you. You were still blocked from view. With a shaky breath, you slowly pulled the phone out. Unlocking it silently, you pressed on the messages app.

“Well, what’s this?”

Dread shot through you. The man had reappeared from the back, slinking quietly to your side somehow without you noticing. Your head shot up to look at him as he stood, barely 5 feet away from you staring down at your phone. The entire room's attention was now on you. You felt your blood freeze in your veins as the eyes above the mask narrowed into a glare. You didn’t even move to hide the phone, you didn’t move to do anything. You just sat there, staring dumbly back into his eyes. You heard the distant sounds of fear from the hostages and soft chuckles from the men.

The bag he had slung over his shoulder was tossed to the nearest member of his crew, the two that had followed him into the back of the back reappeared, took one look at the scene, one shaking his head before they both carried on out the door with the three bags.

A hand shot into your hair, grabbing it by the roots and pulling you to your feet. Your scalp burned, the pain was so sharp and sudden your eyes screwed shut and you lost Yoruba balance. Disoriented, you let out a shriek at the pain and if it weren’t for the grip on your head you would have fallen right back down. The phone was ripped from your hand. The man slid his hand from your hair to grasp the back of your neck firmly as he looked over the screen. When your eyes opened he was scrolling through the messages from half a moment before laughing a full and wicked laugh.

“Texting your boyfriend? How cute.” He all but cackled. He observed your face, your eyes hard and pricked with tears, and he giggled again. Shoving your phone into his pocket, he motioned to the others before pulling you towards the door. You stumbled over your legs multiple times, letting out cries and hisses as you went but doing little to resist.

The other hostages, let out distraught sobs but you blocked them out, their sympathy would do nothing for you now.

You were pulled out of the building at the same moment the sound of engines roared to life. In one quick glacé you saw that the street was still deserted.

Your back was slammed against the wall of the bank, just out of view of those inside and the barrel of the man's gun was trained on you. You shut your eyes tight.

You heard a bang. And the wailing cries of the hostages inside.

Then familiar lips crashed onto yours. It wasn’t really a kiss, more of a peck. The man's lips moved against yours for only a few seconds, so little you had no time to react before they were gone.

You opened your eyes. His mask was pulled back up, and he had taken a step back. His gun was already holstered at his side.

You didn’t have to see the bottom half of the man's face to know he was smirking. You pushed yourself off the wall and glared at him. At that moment two cars pulled out of the parking lot, one stopping directly in front of you. With a huff you pushed past the man who you could almost guarantee was still grinning.

Opening the door you slid into the backseat against the far window and crossed your arms over your chest. Seconds later the man got in and closed the door. And you were off.

“Come on your not actually mad are you,” he giggled, pulling down his mask.

“You damn near pulled my hair out Hongjoong! Of course, I’m mad!” You spat. You heard the two in the front seat chuckle.

“Oh don’t think you're off the hook Yunho. What the fuck was that? Since when was breaking my hand apart of the plan?” You hollered, kicking your foot against his seat. This only lead to more giggling. You resiliently stared forward, not looking at to boyfriend. He didn’t seem bothered by this in the slightest. Hongjoong slid across the back seat to wrap an arm over your shoulder that even in your rage you didn’t have the heart to shake off.

“But it’s not like I was lying! You looked way too calm. If any of them had looked at you it would have been obvious something was up.” Yunho defended, gesturing with the hand, not on the steering wheel.

“Come on, darling. You know we have to make it believable. I can’t have my best spy get their cover blown because I’m too gentle with you.” The arm around your shoulder tightened, urging you to look at him. Finally, you turned to him, smiling at you so brightly you’d think you were on a friendly road trip.

“Besides, I thought you liked it when I pulled your hair?” Hongjoong said with a cheeky wink. At that Wooyoung howled with laughter from the front seat. You blushed crimson and promptly reached your foot over to kick his seat as well.

“Oh shut up. You were going overboard and you know it.” You grumbled with much less enthusiasm. Hongjoong smiles softly at your pout before leaning back in his seat, giving you a bit more space. Comfortable silence lasted only a few minutes as you drove on before Hongjoong spoke up again.

“Why did you pull your phone out anyway? That was dumb, even if you are on our side.” He asked, fingers rubbing circles comfortingly against your shoulder. You sighed.

“Because the rest of the boys fucked up.” You replied plainly, but still easing into your boyfriend's touch. Both Yunho and Wooyoung made offended noises from the front seat, but you carried on.

“The way they were positioned was wrong. There were blind spots, several actually. You’re just lucky I was the only person in one. I figured I should let you know in case it became a problem.” You continued.

“Hmm,” Hongjoong muttered. While he heard the sound of your voice, you doubted he was listening, as his hand instead taken to playing with your fingers in your lap.

“Isn’t the whole idea of having someone undercover on the inside, so they can tell us where the blind spots are?” Wooyoung asked from the front seat, still clearly offended at your statement.

“I told Yeosang, it’s not my fault you guys planned to take him in the safe this time instead of keeping him in the lobby like always.”You shot back. But even that was half-hearted. Your body really did ache after being hunched on the hard ground for 10 minutes without moving, and the comforting touch of your boyfriend's hands made you melt into the seat, all the tension and worrying about ways it could go wrong eased off your body in waves.

You all could talk about how it went and what needed to be tweaked next time later, right now you just wanted to rest. Hongjoong pulled you against his chest by your shoulder sensing your quick drop in energy.

Just as you were about to doze off a thought popped into your head.

“Hongjoong?”

You could feel the hum he gave in response against your cheek, telling you to continue.

“Are you sure you should have pretended to shoot me? I mean, best case scenario local police add murder onto our rap list. Worst, they find out you have a man on the inside. Either one is bad.” You murmur into his chest. Your group had never killed before as there had never been any need to, and it wasn’t something that any of you really wanted to do.

“That’s only a problem if they catch us.” He replied. Sounding, as always, perfectly certain of himself.

Living like this had its pros and cons, much like anything else. The main con being having to drive long ways away for jobs, just as a way to keep yourself safe. Which sometimes meant pulling over on the side of the road at any ditch or shitty motel for the night before getting back to your homes.

As your vehicles pulled into a run-down motel about a mile off the main highway, Hongjoong and Seonghwa had gone into the lobby parading as drunk college students on a road trip to rent the rooms for the night. Needless to say, it had been a long day, the other boys meandered to their rooms and probably fell asleep the moment their heads hit the pillows. But not you.

You had been patiently waiting on the hood of the car you arrived in, for the moment Hongjoong got back. And when he did reappear and the others disappeared, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to go lay down as quickly as they did.

As the crunch of their footsteps on gravel faded till they were indoors, you turned your head upwards to the sky. It was late at night and in the middle of nowhere like this, you could see millions more stars than in your home. Hongjoong kept his place, leaning on the car hood next to where you sat, looking up as well but not at the infinite sky like you. No, he was watching your face.

You don’t know exactly how long you sat there, looking up at the sky but you know your neck had begun to ache when Hongjoong finally pulled himself onto the hood of the car next to you. You naturally came to rest your head on his shoulder, still looking up at the stars, but now in your peripheral vision, you could still see Hongjoong studying your expression carefully.

“Something on your mind?” You ask in a quiet voice, still looking up. Hongjoong stirred, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. You tear your gaze from the stars to look at him. The moon cast a pearly light on his face that in your eyes made him glow.

“Sometimes I think I ruined you,” though his words were serious the giggle he gave at the end showed he had no real remorse. You still scoffed.

“I was a criminal long before I meet you Kim Hongjoong, don’t go thinking you

drastically changed the course of my life.” You reply in a dry tone, even if he was joking, it was still a point you wanted to drive home. He had no reason to be guilty with how you turned out, you were probably safer with him and the others than where you were before. He laughed at you again.

Hongjoong laughed at everything. And his laugh was one of the best things about him. Looking at him now, it gets harder and harder to imagine what your life would have been like without him.

“Babe, you were a petty thief, I turned you into a serial bank robber. I consider that pretty drastic.” He shot back, reaching up to pretend to fix your hair.

“If it wasn’t you, it would have been somebody else, and between us? I’m glad it was you.” Your words came out slightly more sentimental than you had anticipated and when Hongjoong fell silent next to you, you promptly blushed and turned back to the stars.

You and Hongjoong very rarely spoke about stuff like this. Even if neither of you would ever admit it, the truth of living life like this is that all it takes is one day, one mistake, for the family you created and the life you live to come crashing down around you. The span of a few minutes could be the difference between running off into the sunset and quite literally never seeing each other again. And after the slight hiccup, you had today that only you had noticed at first, that thought was at the forefront of your mind.

So basically you liked to live in the moment.

It was quiet for a few minutes, him watching you and you watching the sky. There was a very slight breeze in the air, but the summer air was made it more of a gentle cool wind than an uncomfortable chill.

“It’s getting late, you should go to sleep,” Hongjoong muttered. Quieter than his usual quip.

“I slept in the car.” You replied easily. Which was true, and while that nap had been anything but restful with the constant bumps in the road, he didn’t need to know that.

“Oh well, here I was trying to get you in bed but I guess you don’t want to.” He sighed, regaining some of the playfulness from earlier while running a teasing hand up your spine. It gave you shivers, but you had no desire to give in to him so easily.

“Who says we need a bed?” You ask matter of factly. Turning to give him the same wink he had laid on you earlier in the day. Jobs like the one you did today always put you on edge, no matter how many times you did it. Unlike the rest of them, it took you hours to fully relax and admit safety enough to let your guard down. You would never call Hongjoong carefree, but he did have a habit of trying to jump you the moment you were a safe distance away. Hongjoong leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Are you asking me to take you on the hood of this car? Because trust me, darling, I would.” Shivers his your spine once again, but you weren’t quite down bantering yet. You turned your head away from him to look at the beat-up old motel and the deserted parking lot you sat in. Motioning to it all you replied.

“Is this the most romantic place you could find?” You ask, each word oozing with how unimpressed you were by the scenery. At that Hongjoong placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head up to look at the millions of shining stars once again. You could feel his next words before they came.

“I don’t know, I think I did a pretty good job.”

It’s true, looking straight up and nowhere else gave the impression that you were sitting on the top of a mountain, the entire world below you and nothing but heaven above. Cheesy, but effective.

Hongjoong accurately assumed your silence meant he had won. Pushing you by your shoulder till your back hit the cool metal, your eyes stayed trained on the sky above. Your legs hung over the front of the car, pushed up only slightly till you lay with most of your body on the hood. Hongjoong’s moonlight face still hung in your peripheral, hanging over you slightly.

You stared straight into the sky as Hongjoong slung his body over yours, trapping your hips to the metal with his own.

“Please tell me you're not going to be super dramatic about this?” You as with your last dreg of defiance. He smirked at you.

“Babe, this is going to be the most dramatic moment of your life.”

And with that, Hongjoong leaned down over you, connecting your lips with a heated kiss. Your arms automatically slung around his neck, pulling him closer. Your breath hitched almost immediately, feeling all strength leave your body as you melted into the kiss. Hongjoong took time to switch between a long slow-paced drag of his lips across yours, to nipping and sucking gently at your bottom lip as he pleased. The air no longer seemed like a necessity, when staying like this forever got more and more appealing.

Running his lips down to your jaw you almost rolled your eyes when you felt Hongjoong suck a rather impressively sized hickey right onto the underside of your jaw. It would perfectly match the fading ones that dotted your collar bones and the base of your neck, though the placement of this one would be much more visible.

Hongjoong’s hand took hold of your waist, slipping his fingers under the hem of your shirt and pushing it to bunch up over your chest, exposing you to the cool night air. He hadn’t removed it completely, but nonetheless he leaned back to admire. The ghost of a smirk wormed its way onto his lips as he ran his soft fingertips along the marks he gave you.

Staring at the ones lower on your stomach, trailing up your body with feather light touches. Your eyes screwed shut when he brushed over the ones on your breast. The bra you had been wearing today was nothing special, if not a little plain, but you could barely stand the heat of his gaze as it traveled up your body along with his hand.

Eventually, he reached the newest addition to the collection of purple splotches on your body. Cupping your cheek with his hand he urged your eyes open.

“I go through all this work to get you out under the stars and here you are with your eyes closed. That’s rude of you.” He stated with an exaggerated frown.

“It’s rude to tease,” you tried to sound as playful as him, but it came out as more of a whine. He giggled at you and carried on.

“I’m not teasing, I’m admiring. Now let me continue or you’ll get nothing.” He replies sternly. The mood suddenly shifting as the sparkle in his eye shifted to a darker hungrier look. You gulped slightly before letting your head fall back against the metal to stare up at the sky again. You felt Hongjoong’s mouth on your body again. His warm lips giving new life to some of the more faded marks on your chest. The cool air suddenly felt incredibly hot as your boyfriend's hands ran up and down your sides, occasionally stopping to squeeze whatever flesh he could grasp. Each time pulled another sound past your lips, although you did your best to muffle them.

“You look so pretty like this baby,” he remarked, barely pulling away, “I want to hear how pretty you sound too.”

It wasn’t spoken like a command, but you took it as one. Letting your mouth hang open in a moan when Hongjoong took one of your breasts in his palm, kneeling it slightly before pulling your bra down just enough to free it. He wasted no time in dragging his tongue over your nipple, then sweeping back down to suck a mark directly on the underside of your boob.

Your legs clenched together as he worked, the small amount of friction it gave in your shorts only served to drive you to more extremes when you rolled your hips against his. You groaned startlingly loud at that, the sensation of his hard dick pressing against your core even through the denim of both your pants pulled wetness from your core quicker than you would ever care to admit.

Hongjoong pulled away with a laugh, sitting up straight to look down at your already keening expression.

“Calm down baby, we have all night. No need to rush.” He chuckled at you. Despite his words, he took almost immediate action, running his hands up your bare thighs till his fingers hook on the waistband of your shorts. He pulled them down, but only just enough. Slipping his hand between your legs to cup your heat, while palming himself over his jeans. You whined again and clamped your legs around his hand, holding it in place. Despite your body’s subconscious efforts, he slid his finger over your cunt through your damp underwear.

Under any other circumstances, it would have been incredibly embarrassing how wet he made you from just touches to your body, but at the moment all you could think about was how desperately you wanted him to continue.

“Your soaking wet already, it feels like cheating with how quickly your body reacts to me.” He mutters, pressing two fingers against your hole, with nothing but a thin scrap of fabric keeping them from pushing inside you.

“Hongjoong, please fuck me. I’m begging you.” You groan, rolling your hips against his hand repeatedly. He broke out in a wide smile.

“I like the sound of you begging. Do it again for me.” He commands, voice laced with honey. You took a shuddering breath, turning your eyes to meet his with a pleading look.

“Please, I need you to fuck me.” You beg with all the desperation you have.

“Oh course baby, all you had to do was ask.” He lilts, tilting his head to the side with a sickly sweet smile.

Hongjoong pulled his hand from your core, which left an unhappy feeling in your stomach. But he used said hand to assist in pulling his dick free of his pants which spurred your legs even further apart. Your hands had been hanging uselessly at your side since this all began but as he leaned over your body once again, staring straight down into your wanton face, your hands flung themselves behind his shoulder to hang off of him.

Hongjoong pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, running it through your folds twice, watching as your face shifted from bliss to desperation each time he almost slipped in. And of course, he laughed. But that was the last bit of torture he gave you before sinking into your cunt.

Your synchronized groans sounded throughout the empty parking lot when he finally filled you to the hilt. And with his own patients starting to run as thin as yours he wasted no time in pulling out and thrusting again.

Your back arched more each time he pushed into you, feeling him stretching your walls and brush against the most sensitive spots inside you made your toes curl. And as he began to build pace his deep pants and groans rang in your ears.

He was doing anything but going fast. Long hard and deep thrusts shook your body in a steady rhythm. Your nails dig into his shoulders through his shirt and your mouth hung open as he fucked into you.

“Come on baby, you're not that far gone already are you?” His voice carried a teasing tone, but his own breath had gone shaky. You both stared into each other’s faces, watching each other’s expressions shift with bliss at every thrust. You were moaning and whining freely now. Words have failed you.

You felt the muscles on Hongjoong’s shoulder strain beneath your fingers, and with your orgasm fast approaching your nails practically clawed down his back. Hongjoong hissed above you, but the action did nothing but spur him on.

“Your gonna cum baby? Gonna cum already on my cock? How desperate you must be, to let a criminal have his way with you like this.” He growled the words down at you. His words shot to your core, making you clench around him, with a whine you forced words past your lips.

“I don’t care, just want you.” The words were barely a whisper. But the effect was the same. With a ringing cry, you came undone underneath him. You shook and threw your head back, staring directly into the stars above you. Your body moved of its own accord, but that was all beyond you. The only thing you could think about was the look on Hongjoong’s stunning face as he came hovering above you.

You both basked in the feeling of waves of pleasure rolling over your bodies. Continuing to grind against each other subconsciously as you rode it out.

The cool air returned with a nip. Hongjoong had all but collapsed above you. As you came back to reality the cold metal of the car suddenly felt so comfortable you could fall asleep right there. You felt your eyes being to drift shut.

“Oh no baby, I’m taking you to bed for real this time.” Hongjoong chuckled, pulling himself up to look down at you again. He gave a small smile at your pout.

“Your pretty cute for a dangerous criminal.”

You gathered up the last of your strength to hit him on the shoulder.

and this my friends is why I dont make a habit of writing longer things, they just get away from me.

I meant for this to be a short hot sexy lil thing and it turned into this long ass sappy thing

#ateez smut #hongjoong smut #ateez scenarios #ateez au #hongjoong scenarios #ateez timestamp #hongjoong timestamp #hongjoong au

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crackheadgeminibby · 3 years

Text

mistakes were made

pairing: chris evans x black!reader

warnings: language, age gap, angst, mentions of sex TW body insecurities and talk of weight gain

word count: 2.9k

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform

picture credit: screengrab from "Captain America Dinner Party" on youtube

You finish getting dressed and pick up everything you need to go for a run. As you’re walking down the last steps, you see that Chris is sitting on the couch, working on something on his computer. You come up behind him and softly kiss his temple before saying,

“Hey baby. I just put Emma to sleep and I’m gonna go for a run. Can you just pay attention and make sure she doesn’t wake up, please?”

Chris absentmindedly nods and mutters a “be careful”. You faintly smile and roll your eyes at his unwavering concentration but make sure to turn the volume of the baby monitor all the way up before leaving.

You go out through the garage and smile up at the sky, feeling the heat of the sun warming up your face.

You start to run the route you used to before getting pregnant with your baby girl. Last Sunday, it had been five months since your bundle of joy had been born. As much as you utterly adored her and the experience of carrying your own child, you had not appreciated the effect that the pregnancy had on your body.

On the contrary, most mothers-to-be were described as glowing and full of new energy but while you were pregnant, you always felt like you were about to get a cold and you had put on so much weight that you could barely recognize yourself. You had thought that it was only the pregnancy hormones changing your body that way as you were still very young, but today, five months after giving birth, your body had stayed the same and that certainly was not helping your confidence.

You weren’t sure if Chris had noticed your insecurities that manifested themselves by you eating almost the same meager meals every day and pushing away all sorts of sexual interactions with him. Since he had never mentioned anything or ever seemed frustrated with you, you thought he simply didn’t notice it or just didn't mind it.

Lost in your thoughts, you’re back home before you know it. As you’re entering the garage, you faintly hear Chris’ voice travel through the house all the way to you. Slightly confused, you assume that he must have forgotten to tell you he had an appointment or something, so you make sure to be as silent as possible to not disturb him.

“Bro, I know, it’s fucking crazy. I actually have my own child now.”

You smile softly at his excitement. You’re downing a bottle of water you took from the fridge when your ears perk up at your name coming out of Chris’ mouth.

“Oh, Y/N? Yeah, you know, she’s fine, she's good.”

Tilting your head slightly, you try to understand the sudden shift in Chris’ mood: even from two rooms away, you could feel his energy change.

“No, it’s fine, it’s just that she’s been kind of weird since the baby.”

You frown at hearing Chris say that. He never mentioned anything to you so why the hell was he talking about it with whoever was on the other end of the phone?

“No but like bro, look, it’s like this. I’ll be out all day doing whatever, and then when I come home, she’s all over me, being super clingy and all. Like, she will literally not let me go anywhere. But then, whenever I try to ease the mood into, you know, something more sexual, she just shuts down and says that Emma needs some food or something and she leaves. Then, when she comes back, she’s practically running from me like I have the fucking plague or something!”

As Chris is listening to what the person on the phone is responding, you start to feel a knot in your throat and you know that if you don’t do anything soon, you’re going to be full-on sobbing. As you’re working on your breathing and a plan, you hear Chris say,

“Dude, I literally thought the same thing. I swear. But, when we went for her check-up a little after she gave birth, the doctor said we couldn’t have sex for 6 weeks. It’s been like 20 weeks now!”

Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you leave your water bottle on the counter and run back to the garage, as silently as you can. Once in the safety of the garage, tears stream down your face as you let out a sob that brings you to your knees. You let yourself cry for what feels like forever, but you know it must not have been more than 5 minutes.

When you start to calm down, you focus on finding a plan to make sure Chris didn’t know that you were eavesdropping on his phone conversation. You take deep breaths before wiping your face and fixing your appearance as best as you can while using the rear-view mirror of your car.

Once you’re certain that you can’t do anything more, you take a final breath before opening the door and slamming it loud enough for Chris to hear that you’re in the house. As you’re approaching the living room, and thus, the staircase leading to your room, you faintly hear Chris say, “Yeah, man. I’ll talk to you later.”

You pass behind him while keeping your head held high and not giving him a single glance. As you start to climb up the stairs, you see that Chris is turning towards you.

“Hey baby, I didn’t hear you come back. How was your run?”

You take a deep breath before answering as calmly as you can, “Fine. I’m going to take a shower.”

Chris hesitates for a second before responding, “Um, okay, I’ll start dinner then.”

You don’t answer and run up the last couple of stairs as you feel your resolve crumbling. You hurriedly take some random clothes and a towel before locking yourself in the en suite bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you put your hand over your mouth as a cry escapes you again. You put your clothes and towel on the counter before sitting in front of your bathtub. You don’t know how long you stay there, stifling your cries, but you suddenly hear the doorknob jiggling before a loud knock resonates through the bathroom.

“Y/N? You okay in there? I heard some weird noises.”

You clear your throat as softly as you can before answering, “I’m fine, I just stubbed my toe.” You cringe as your voice breaks halfway through your sentence.

The doorknob jiggles again before you hear, “Are you sure? And why is the door locked? You never lock it.”

“Uh... I'm on my period.”

You roll your eyes at your dumb and illogical excuse but it was going to have to do for now.

Before Chris can say anything else, you start the shower, rapidly take your clothes off and step inside. Both Chris and you knew that when the shower water was on, it was almost impossible to hear anything else in the bathroom.

You spend at least an hour under the scalding water, and you finally get out as you see a glimpse of the time on the bathroom clock: 6:45pm. It was time to start getting Emma ready for bed and you knew that she rarely slept through the night if you weren't the one to put her to bed. Knowing that this meant that nobody in the house would really get any sleep, you reluctantly turn off the shower water and get out of the shower.

As you’re toweling off, you can faintly hear music coming from outside of the bathroom. You put on the clothes you had taken from your room and put them on.

How ironic. You were wearing the same shirt from the first time Chris had told you he loved you. You smile bitterly as you look at the shirt in the mirror and pick up the rest of your things before getting out of the bathroom.

You walk into your shared bedroom with Chris and immediately recognize “Wicked Games” by The Weeknd. You roll your eyes as you remember the time you had told Chris that, for whatever reason, The Weeknd’s 2010s phase could always get you in the mood. You take your time doing your skincare routine before taking care of your workout clothes.

After finishing in your bedroom, you close the door and head to Emma’s room to get her ready for bed. However, you frown confusedly as you see that everything in Emma’s room is clean and organized. Emma is clearly changed, dressed in her nighttime pyjamas, tucked in and soundly asleep while Dodger is snoring in front of her crib. You smile softly. Even before Emma was born, Dodger was extremely protective of her and when she was born, he was practically attached to her hip. Wherever Emma was, Dodger was also there.

You’re watching Emma and Dodger sleep, a seemingly permanent smile on your face when you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn around rapidly and slightly jerk away from Chris when he attempts to put a hand on your arm. He frowns slightly before saying,

“I got Emma ready for bed and dinner’s ready downstairs.”

You sigh and walk around Chris before making your way downstairs as you hear his soft footsteps behind you. When you turn the corner to enter the living room, your breath slightly hitches as you see that Chris has set a candlelit dinner table. Chris softly sets his hands on your shoulders and starts to gently massage them as he says,

“I made spaghetti with chicken parm, your favorite. And extra cheese, just how you like it.”

As your resolve starts to crumble, Chris’ words from earlier in the day echo in your mind. The memory makes you instantly tense up and you let out a shaky breath while trying to control your emotions. To take the focus off of you, you sit down and start to serve Chris and yourself some water. You hear Chris sigh loudly before he sits down in front of you. He serves you a hearty serving of pasta with a whole chicken breast before serving himself. Chris looks at you, clearly hesitating to say anything for a couple of seconds while you’re poking at your food before saying,

“So, I thought you would like the chicken parm tonight since you seemed kind of down after your run.”

You let go of your fork, which loudly hits your plate, and put your head in your hands before you say, “Oh my God, Chris, I can’t fucking do this.”

“Woah, Y/N, you can't do what? What's wrong?”, Chris asks, shocked.

“What’s wrong, Christopher, is that I heard you on the phone this afternoon. Talking about how I’m supposedly clingy and never want to have sex with you anymore.”

Chris visibly tenses up as he hears your statement and stammers trying to find an excuse to justify his behavior.

“Wait, I… I can explain.”

You hold your hand up, signifying to Chris that you’re not done.

“First of all, you have absolutely no right to talk to anybody about our sex life without at least asking me first, which you know I would absolutely not agree with. Second of all, you should know by now that if you have any problems with me, you come to me. You don’t go talking to some random person about it behind my back.”

You angrily get up from the table and narrow your eyes at Chris as you continue.

“And third, not that you deserve any justification whatsoever for me not wanting to have sex with you, but I gained weight, Chris. Way too much weight. I find myself fat and gross and I didn’t want you to see my body and think the exact same things I think every single time I see myself in the mirror.”

You sniffle as you realize that you had been crying.

“And you can help yourself to the couch tonight.”

You walk up the stairs and, mindful to not wake Emma up, you softly close your bedroom door. You immediately snuggle into the covers while soft sobs rake through your body. You’re not sure how long you lay there crying but you eventually fall asleep from exhaustion.

You groggily wake up a couple of hours later while the sun is starting to rise as you hear Emma’s cries on the baby monitor. You rub your eyes as you get out of the bed and head over to her room. You take Emma out of her crib and immediately identify that her diaper is full. You feel your headache from crying developing further as you’re changing Emma.

When you’re finished, you take Emma in your arms and bounce her up and down while softly humming to help her fall back asleep with Dodger dutifully following you.

You head downstairs in search of painkillers for your headache while continuing to hum to Emma. While passing through the living room, you can see Chris’ head resting on the couch armrest. As Dodger spots him, he heads over to him and whines softly before setting himself at the end of the couch, prepared to fall back asleep.

You chuckle slightly before downing the painkillers and heading back up to Emma’s room, ready to put her back in bed. You set her down and tuck her in before exhaling softly and heading back to your bedroom.

Your headache and the painkillers had effectively made you exhausted again as you fall asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillow.

When you finally wake up for the day, you groan at the faint traces of your headache still present. You look over at your nightstand and see that it’s now 7:30am. You roll your eyes at this. You had barely slept an additional hour.

Figures. You never really slept that well when Chris wasn't in bed with you.

As your senses start to really awaken, you smell some coffee and hear the shower running for a couple of seconds after which, it stops.

Before you know it, Chris walks out of the bathroom, body steaming, with a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. He suddenly stops in his tracks as he realizes you’re awake.

God… Even when he pissed you off, he was still hot as fuck.

He lightly clears his throat before saying, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I just wanted to take a shower after my workout.”

You gently shake your head before responding with a raspy voice, “You didn’t wake me, it’s fine.”

Chris nods his head once before tightly smiling. You can feel the tension in the room as Chris stands in front of the bathroom door and looks anywhere but at you. After a couple of seconds, he softly sniffles and croaks, “Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

You sit up in the bed and lean on the headboard as you frown softly. Chris makes his way to you and softly sits on his side of the bed with his head hung. You can see from the various expressions that are passing on his face that he’s trying to find the words to talk to you

“I didn’t really sleep last night because I kept thinking about what you said. And I realized how much of an asshole I was.” He balls up his fists as he shakes his head and continues, “I never should have talked about any of those things with Matt and I’m so sorry that I did. I’m also sorry that I never came to talk to you, like a grown man, and instead just talked about you behind your back.”

Chris hesitantly reaches for your hands and takes them into his when he sees that you’re not negatively reacting to him while tears are dropping on the covers.

“Above all, I’m especially sorry that I ever made you feel like I wasn’t there for you and like you couldn’t come to me. I really didn’t know how you felt about yourself and it breaks my heart that I let you go through this alone when I should have been there to support you after Emma was born."

He shrugs gently before finishing with, "And for what it’s worth, I think you’re as beautiful now as you were while you were pregnant and before you got pregnant.”

Chris looks up at you with red eyes as he waits for you to say something. You open and close your mouth multiple times as you’re trying to find the right words to respond to him.

You finally settle on, “I don’t know that I can forgive you right now, Chris. What you did really hurt me. Like a lot.”

Chris’ head slightly hangs down before you finish with, “However, I don’t think it would be beneficial to our family for us to be apart right now.”

As soon as he hears this, Chris’ head snaps up, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“I’m gonna need space and time to work through this but I believe that our relationship is stronger than this.”

Chris nods excitedly and bites his bottom lip before asking, “Is it okay if I hug you?”

You lightly nod your head and chuckle slightly as Chris practically throws himself at you. He rests his head in the crook of your neck before whispering “I love you so much, Y/N.”

Without hesitation, you whisper back, “I love you too, Chris.”

If there was something that you knew would never change is that you loved Chris, forever and always.

#chris evans #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfics

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lexie-cameron8 · 3 years

Note

hiiiii!!!

Can I get a request for rafe x reader based on the song favorite crime by Olivia Rodrigo please!

I love your writing!

A/n: Uh yes! I hope that this fits what you were expecting! This is where Rafe kills Sheriff Peterkin in season 1.

Summary: Rafe X Reader! Based on the song by Olivia Rodrigo, Favorite Crime! Fluff/Angst I think.

Warnings: light swearing, mentions of murder

Somebody once told me that the worst pain in the world is a broken heart, but they were wrong.

***

"Y/S/N! I know that your on your phone, so when my name pops up on your screen answer-" I went completely quiet, feeling slightly embarrassed when I made eye contact with the blue eyed boy who lived neighborhoods away.

My younger sister, turned around slightly giving me a sarcastic smile.

It was strange to see this boy in this neighborhood, especially on my doorstep.

I'm pretty sure that the light blue polo shirt and the golden ring on his pointer finger gave away the fact that he was definitely on the wrong side of the island, whereas he belonged on Figure Eight.

"What's a Kook doing on our doorstep?" I questioned, cheeked reddening when I realized I had said that out loud.

Y/S/N had stared at me, closing her eyes in my lack of class. "Y'know not all of us Kooks spend all of our time at country clubs...we have other things to do." The boy with the name of, Rafe, had his hands resting on the door frame as he slightly leaned forwards, making him appear slightly shorter than he actually was.

I walked a few steps forwards, taking Y/S/N's spot by the door. That was her queue to leave me to deal with the unexpected visitor.

Before she completely stepped away, a whisper came from her. "Those fucking Kooks don't know when to stop," I simply nodded and whispered back an, 'I know, fucking hate 'em.'

"What does a spoiled little rich boy have to do?" I asked.

Rafe ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek and slightly nodded his head at my 'not really expecting an answer' question. "Well for starters...you." My eyes widened at his confidence, who did he think he was talking to?!

I placed my hand on his chest, pushing him gently out of the door frame while taking a few steps forwards so we were both outside now. Closing the front door of the Pogue-style home, I reached my arms around Rafe's neck, letting my body press against his. "What the hell are you doing here?" I asked him sweetly, our noses barley touching.

"I was in the neighborhood so I thought I'd stop by," He said, leaving his mouth slightly gaped open after he finished speaking. I'm not sure what it was about his sharp k9's showing in his smile, but it was hot.

If only it were that simple. "Rafe you're never just 'in the neighborhood'. What's going on?" I sighed, stepping up on my tip toes to press a quick kiss to his soft, loving lips.

Suddenly, all of the good faded away. Rafe and I were a secret. What was worse than Pogue on Pogue macking? Pogue on Kook macking.

Never in a million years would Rafe be caught with a Pogue, but somehow he made a simple change within himself and his ego.

One big rule that we had was that he was never to come in any close perimeter to my 'house'. It was more than strange to see a Kook in such a poor neighborhood and there was no way nobody would connect the dots.

Despite that rule, he came today, for the first time...ever. That couldn't have been good, right?

Rafe's fingers interlocked, very discretely keeping my body close to him. But, not discreet enough for me to understand what he was trying to do. "It's a small island, somebody's gonna see us." I said. My hands were now over his, practically forcing his fingers apart.

Rafe was still completely silent, he hadn't even answered my question, even the one I actually wanted an answer from. "Rafe...what did you do?" I asked him, seeing the way his eyes were red from some sort of high and mixed with emotion.

"Y/n...I-I need you to understand, okay?" He'd finally taken his turn to speak, but left me utterly confused. "M-My dad was in trouble and I-I saved him." I'd never seen him so broken and emotional.

I stood there just hoping for him to elaborate and explain the whole situation. "My love...what happened?" I gently took my hand and caressed his cheek, letting his face lean into my hands.

“I-I’m…I’m a proactive type of person okay? My dad…he was in trouble a-and I saved him…I saved him y/n.” He sobbed into my hands before I pulled him into a hug at a loss for words.

Rafe’s arms snaked around my waist as his face was buried in the crook of my neck. My eyes teared up at the sound of the sobs that left his mouth, but there was something he wasn’t telling me, I just knew it.

“I killed her.” His voice spoke leaving me breathless. My mouth gaped open, but no words leaving it. The fact that he said ‘her’ scared me. But who? Who could he have possibly killed for his dad?

All of a sudden, his arms loosened. “Please…don’t leave me.” He sobbed.

I put my hand behind his head, pushing him back into my embrace. “I won’t…god don’t ever think that again.” I cried. All the things that everyone had told me about Rafe, they were all real. But they don’t know him, the real him.

***

A broken heart isn't the worst pain in the world, but loosing all just to love one is.

I did everything just so we could be together. I made excuses for you knowing deep down that everyone else was right. Out of all the things you did, I hope I was your favorite crime.

#rafe cameron smut #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafecameron #obx2 #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron sad #sad fluff #sad angst #sad imagines #sad imagine

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sleepy-dreamers-inc · 3 years

Text

Being Exiled with Tommy Headcannons!|| 🥀

irl/ in-game

Genre| angst + comfort

h e a d c a n n o n s||

Sypnosis|

Both you and Tommy ended up getting exiled together.

Artist| OliverSonder on twitter!!

Warnings] mentions of manipulation, character death, spoilers for Tommy’s Exile Arc and the Season 2 finale!!

[can be seen as both platonic or romantic!!]

||gender neutral reader!!||

(also this was not grammar checked and im to lazy to watch through hours of footage so if anything in here is wrong blame it on the DSMP Wiki OKAY LETS GO-)

So i think its pretty established that if you end up getting exiled with Tommy your one of two things.

- Really sweet and loyal friend that will stick up for in-justice and be there when someone needs you the most

- A total fucking gremlin that will steal your kneecaps and toes and eat your shower curtains in the middle of the night.

There is no inbetween here you guys.

I did end up going for Reader A, though. But you guys tell me if you want headcannons for a gremlin!reader because i will gladly do that!!

But anyways just... enjoy exile!

Exile|

- It was about his third day in exile when Y/N appeared through the nether portal, bags, pouches, tools, armor, etc. on their person. Tommy thought they either were here to beat him up or got exiled themselves.

- Tommy was pleasantly surprised when he learned that Y/N was actually there on their own accord, helping him through exile and being his shoulder to lean on. The first few days we’re rough, fighting back mobs in the night and farming crops all day. His clothes we’re starting to get dirty and torn by the time Y/N got there.

- Y/N ended up making a little bunker about 30 blocks from where they’re tent was, where they hid all theirs and Tommy’s valuables, such as armor, diamonds & iron, and rations. Although Y/N never gave into Dream and gave him they’re stuff, Y/N simply refused, they wouldn’t be giving in that easily.

- Most of they’re days are spent in caves mining away, chatting and fighting off Creeper’s as they tried to keep the moral high, always keeping Tommy company. Y/N never let him go anywhere alone, they we’re always with him, like his own bodyguard of sorts.

- One time they both find a Mineshaft though and got lost, they ended up at the surface two dayd later with torn clothes, cuts and bruises and we’re in bad shape. Thankfully Y/N had a brewing stand at they’re camp though, so Healing Potions we’re semi-easy to make/get.

- After the duo end up going to the artic though... things got... weird.

- Techno was not expecting to open his door to find the heathen Tommy and sweetheart Y/N at his doorstep shivering and begging to come inside, bags thrown on they’re shoulders as they teeth chattered from the cold wind and snow.

- Whenever Dream comes to visit Y/N always has to hide with Tommy, reassuring him that its okay and they’ll always be there for him, and protect him at any cost, which he highly appreciates.

- The ‘gapple-eating’ thing Tommy did was a cute, yet depressing thing. Seeing him hasitly munching on golden-coated apples was funny and caused giggles, but the meaning behind it always left Y/N with a lump in their throat and a hole in their heart.

- Whenever Tommy is in danger and calls for Dream, Y/N always has to stop him and bring him back to reality, making Tommy realize Dream isnt his friend, and never was. Many nights have happened where the two talk about Tommy’s feelings with Dream, not only for Tommy to vent and let everything out, but also for Y/N to understand whats going on in his head.

- When going into the Nether Tommy always grips Y/N’s hand, as his fear of lava and heights consumes him whole in that firey dimension.

- When Tommy gets up close to Dream in the cabin? Y/N is scared spineless, if people could see them, they’d see the palest, most terrified and worried being on earth.

- Y/N having a heart attack when Ghostbur slips up

- Ghostbur is just a whole thing and just. Y/N needs a break, okay?

- Y/N begrudgingly helping Tommy build his cobblestone tower outside of Techno’s cabin.

- Y/N apologizing soon after to Techno only for him to laugh and ruffle Y/N’s hair, saying he knows how Tommy can get anyone to any situation.

- Very rarely does Y/N ever leave Tommy’s side, when they do its usually to get supplies or visit they’re friends. So when Y/N was walking back to the Nether portal to see Tommy, Techno and Dream all standing there, looking like they’re about to slit the others throat, well...

- Nobody has ever seen Y/N drop kick a person so fast.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Y/N yelled, they’re sword at Dream’s neck, as he laid on his back, his mask covering his shocked expression.

“Answer. Me.” Y/N gritted through their teeth, pushing their swordfurther against the masked mans throat. Techno soon chimed in, reassuring Y/N that nothing to terrible happened.

“It’s fine, Y/N. He didn’t do anything, why not we head back home? Wouldn’t want that homeless man to be to scared spineless, eh?” Techno said, hand on they’re shoulder as he looked Y/N in the eyes.

The 3 walked back to the Nether portal, purple mist engulfing Tommy and Techno as Y/N stood in front of the portal. Back turned towards Dream, Y/N shifted they’re head and glared at Dream with eyes that could kill.

“Don’t do anything you might regret, you megalomaniac.”

- When Tommy and Tubbo decide to go fight Dream, Y/N is both excited and scared. They hope Dream will finally be taken down, but they dont want Tommy (& Tubbo) to be taken down as well.

- So like any amazing best friend, Y/N brews up a bunch of potions of Strength, Healing + Regen, Invisibility and more. Even if Tommy thought he was going to be walking out of there alone, he wasn’t going to be. Y/N would make sure.

- Y/N watched from afar as Tommy got his disc out of the jukebox, laughing in success. All Y/N did was clap quietly, making sure they’re Invisibility didn’t wear off. They we’re making sure Tommy stayed safe, even if he didn’t realize it. Y/N loved him with they’re whole heart, and everyone knew that.

- At Dreams secret base, Y/N was just getting there as Tommy took Dreams first canon life.

“Tommy. Stop. Dont do anything you might regret.” Dream snarled, looking at the teenage boy, his blue eyes dull, yet full of passion and vigor.

All Tommy did was pursue forward, as everyone waited for what was to come. Tommy took one step to close though, because Dream had decided that he had enough.

Dream brought his arm into the air, hand curled into a fist, he was about to hurl his hand into Tommy’s face when Dream suddenly fell to the ground, arrow in his forehead.

Dream was shot by Y/N

Y/N stood there, enchanted bow in hand, infront of the nether portal that swirled with an eerie purple mist. Y/N lowered their bow, staring at the man who tortured Tommy for weeks now. Y/N simply stepped forward and towered over Dreams corpse before it disappeared in thin air.

Lets just say Dream wouldn’t be hurting the blonde heathen anytime soon.

a/n: howdy everyone how we doing? Decided to do Tommy x Reader for this post, although i am MAJORLY simping for Wilbur atm and i have brainrot so that’ll most likely be the next post (if i dont do a pt. 2 for this one but even so WILBUR).

Anyways i hope i did racooninnit justice, i have no idea how to do headcannons since half the time i ramble (its the adhd) so this was new for me. Definitely not my strong suit but like you live ya learn. Also, sorry if i left out quite a lot, i might make a fic about this and include more events, but this is really long for headcannons (because of my layout) so i didn’t include to much. I dont want people scrolling for like 20 seconds to go to another post (i write on mobile so undercut is not a thing for me RIP)

Anyways have a lovely day and dont let Tommy eat all your gapples!!

#tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit fanfic #tommy x reader #tommy imagine #tommy fanfic #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagine #dream smp fanfiction #dreamer posts ♠️

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ratcatcher0325 · 2 years

Text

Nobody’s Fool Bonus (Chapter #2A)

A third bonus chapter! Woo hoo! This is all of Chapter 2 from Penn’s perspective (minus the bit at the end of the original chapter that’s already in his POV). I enjoyed writing this one.

Original Chapter: Chapter #2

Previous Bonus Chapters: Chapter #1A, Chapter #2A

CW: Adult language, dehumanization, angst, references to abuse, blood

Reblogs > Likes. Thank you!

________________________________________

NOBODY’S FOOL

Chapter #2A: When Hell Freezes Over

Word Count: 3,630 Read Time: Approx. 28 mins

[Penn’s POV]

She carefully pulled the lapel of her winter coat around me as she stepped outside. With my pitifully thin undershirt and boxers being my only protection from the cold, I was grateful to be shielded from the wind and snow. Still, my mind was racing, trying to understand just what she was planning on doing with me. She’d seemed kind. She’d fed me, bathed me, bandaged me. So why suddenly toss me outside now? I’d die if I was left out in the cold, but maybe I could find some crack in the building or some insulated place to wait out the night. That is if she wasn’t, for some reason, planning on killing me first. But no, she didn’t seem to be headed toward the bushes that skirted the side of the building, or even lowering down to the ground below her. No, she was headed somewhere else. Her car maybe? No. She carried me into the breezeway and took the concrete steps up to the second story.

Oh no. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. Turning whiter than my shirt, my vision blurred as I gripped the flesh of her hand. Please let me be wrong. She can’t be taking me back there. I’ll die if I go back there. Claire will butcher me herself! I had never tasted true fear until this moment. My whole frame quaked as each step got us closer and closer to that dreaded threshold. I held my breath as I found myself in front of that familiar, dingy, green door with the 2B metal plate screwed in just above the peephole. As the woman’s free hand, raised in a fist, prepared to knock on the wood, I looked down. Would leaping from this height kill me? Probably. And even if I didn’t die, I could just as easily shatter both legs or be crushed to death under foot. I wanted so desperately to run. But how? And where? I was stuck, held captive by this woman I’d almost dared to trust.

The knocking of her knuckles on the door, over the sound of the party still raging on, sounded to me like a death knell. I was being sent to slaughter. I just hoped Claire killed me quickly and got it over with. As the doorknob ground in its socket, and the door creaked open, I identified her, immediately. My eyes flashed instinctively between her line of sight and her hands. I knew them all to be unrelenting and deadly quick. She stared above me into the eyes of the woman who held me, my body still somewhat out of sight tucked between the woman’s chest and coat. She was even more hammered than when I’d been thrown out on the balcony and toyed with by those two smokers.

“Whadd you want???” She leaned closer in the doorframe. I jumped almost reflexively. That caught her eye. Suddenly, those awful, piercing blue eyes, almost always rimmed in crimson red, were boring holes into my very soul. I couldn’t help my bodily reaction as I looked into the eyes of the cruelest creature I’d ever had the misfortune of knowing. Quaking from head to toe, I cringed as I felt the sudden warmth between my legs. She watched as I humiliated myself with a malicious smile playing on her lips, “Mmm h-heyy lil dude! Th-Thought you broke your neck down there…. Ha! Guess yer stronger than you look!!” Suddenly her massive finger thrusted forward, aimed right at my heart. I shouted pitifully, absolutely beside myself with terror. Instead of absorbing the shock of the blow in my clavicle or sternum, I felt the surface of the hand I was perched in rock back. The woman was stepping away, out of Claire’s reach to keep her from touching me. If she didn’t want me to be harmed, why the hell were we at this door in the first place? Couldn’t she see how dangerous my owner was for someone as defenseless as me?

The woman holding me proceeded to scold her, “You, you need to take better care of him, Claire. If I hadn’t found him who knows if he would have survived the night? He’s not being fed enough, and he was filthy. I cleaned him up and gave him something to eat…. You should really be more careful…” If I’d ever dared to speak to her in that tone, I’d have ended up as nothing more than a tiny, sun-bleached skeleton in some local landfill years ago. I guessed that was the advantage of being able to look her in the eye, they were on equal footing.

Claire listened with a cocked eyebrow before laughing in this other woman’s face. She was struggling to stand steadily, “Are you giving him back to me? Cuz I don wann him. If you don’t either you can toss him off the balcony again, bonus points if he splatters on impact…” she beamed, proud of her sick joke. “Nah, but I don’t—-I don’t give a fuck. Sell him or somethin’, I’m tired of dealin’ with his ass. He's way too fucking needy…. And ‘spensive…” I froze. It was now all up to the whims of this stranger holding me... what was the rest of my life going to look like? What would she do? Insist on giving me back? Do as instructed and throw me over the ledge for fun? Or take me with her to do with as she pleased? None of these sounded appealing at all, but at least I had a chance of survival with the last one. I trembled in her hand, awaiting her answer.

She spoke again to the drunken blonde woman in the door, her tone biting and fierce, “You are seriously fucked up, Claire. All of you! It’s four in the goddamn morning!! Shut the fuck up and go the fuck home!” No one spoke to Claire that way, not even a fellow human. Every muscle in my body tensed as I waited to see what she would do to the woman holding me. This stranger’s cupped hand being the only line of defense between myself and my torturer.

She lunged forward and I prayed it wouldn’t get physical, because I was certain to be lost in the shuffle, but, suddenly, her eyes glazed over and just as the other woman recognized the signs and sidestepped the disaster, Claire threw up. Nothing I hadn’t witnessed before, but at least I wasn’t covered in it this time.

“Have a good night…” And with that, this stranger turned on her heel and headed back downstairs. I gripped her hand, panting and completely unable to recover from the shock of everything that had just happened. In the blink of an eye, we were back inside, behind closed doors.

It was probably a combination of being exposed to freezing temperatures for too long, cracking my head on concrete and the sheer overwhelming amount of fear and stress I’d just experienced at the hands of these two women tonight, but I just couldn’t take it anymore. My mind had officially broken along with my body.

She’d almost given me back. I’d been inches away from certain death. My face twisted as tried to fight it, but nevertheless, the tears burst forth in a violent wave and I just started to weep.

Her voice pierced my ears, “Hey little fella…. Are you mad at me? For trying to return you? I only brought you back because I thought that’s what I was supposed to do…I, I’m sorry. I see now how abusive it was….”

I just wanted everyone and everything to disappear. I was so tired of being jostled about by giant fingers. Poked, prodded, pinched and played with. I just wanted to be fucking left alone and on solid ground. I didn’t have the strength to scream, so I just curled up into myself and cried even harder.

The woman never said another word, but simply draped that familiar washcloth over my shoulders before setting me down on the heating pad. I didn’t bother looking up, the tears blurred my vision anyway. What a horrible, miserable little life I led, with no choices of my own. I was now stuck in some new, unfamiliar place, with a woman who’s true intentions had yet to be determined, but who I still relied on for practically everything. My body racked with uncontrollable sobs. I hated being so little.

I cried until it physically hurt to continue. Then I just laid there, back pressed to the arm of the couch, a bundled mess of pitiable man (if I was even allowed to call myself that). My spine stiffened again when I suddenly realized I didn’t know where the human was. I’d kept my head tucked inside my knees and hadn’t been tracking her movements. I whipped around as I scanned the room for a sign of her. I never wanted to leave her out of my sight, if I could help it. That way I could always anticipate fits of rage and incoming blows or hands seeking to pluck me up. I saw her, across and a bit behind me to my left, perched on the other couch. Immediately, I darted my gaze away, hoping to avoid her eyes. But I wasn’t fast enough, she’d caught me looking.

Her voice, warm and sweet like honey, cascaded across the room, “Hi, little guy…”

I refused to turn around. Maybe she’d drop it and leave me alone if I was too boring to play with. After all, it looked like she’d been busy working on something. Instead, I took in my surroundings, trying quickly to calculate possible escape routes if needed. Not that I could get very far, all the doors were closed.

I could feel her eyes darting from me back down to the page in her lap and then returning to me. It made my skin crawl. What was she staring at me so intently for? Was she taking notes about my behavior? I didn’t like it. I had to know what she was doing. After a good long while, I finally mustered up the courage and cleared my throat, before speaking to her for the first time, “Ma’am? May I ask…Why do you keep looking at me?” I didn’t dare to look in her eyes, for fear that I may come across as too bold. She paused, my heart leapt into my throat, had I pissed her off? Would she punish me for speaking without being spoken to? Finally, she replied.

“I’m sorry…. Do you not want me to?” I had to see her expression, to gauge how much trouble I was in. I turned toward her, but still kept from meeting her gaze, both out of fear and an attempt at showing respect.

“No ma’am, I just wondered what you were doing….” I wished I hadn’t said anything.

Her voice became softer, more gentle, “Can I come closer? Can I show you?”

Closer meant within arm’s reach. I didn’t want to be picked up anymore. But once again, what choice did I have? I was no bigger than her hand, if she wanted to hold me she’d get her way, even if I cried and spat. She clocked my discomfort immediately. “It’s okay, little man….” She sure was observant. As though she really didn’t want to frighten or hurt me. As though she were actually looking for signs of distress and doing her best to mitigate them. I relaxed a tiny bit. Maybe if I seemed less fearful she’d be less tempted to caress or cradle me. I nodded my head up and down to let her approach. She lit up at that, crossing the room slowly, so as not to frighten me. She sat down on the floor her back to me up against the couch. She scooted so that I could see over her shoulder. To my relief she didn’t get as close as she possibly could, there was enough distance between our bodies that my heart could pound at a steady pace.

She opened up her pad of paper, propping it up on her knee so I had a clear view. What I saw gazing back at me were tons of sketches of my own form, huddled up in the washcloth. My jaw dropped slightly. The pencil markings, simple and expertly set down, somehow resembled me almost exactly. I couldn’t help crawling forward on my hands and knees, just a bit, amazed by what I saw, “…. That’s me?” She nodded yes. “Is that what I look like? So small…” I really was quite a pathetic little creature. I couldn’t imagine how I must’ve appeared to her: weak, terrified, emotional, desperate. But instead of seeing these traits and immediately taking advantage of them, she’d sat quietly while I cried and turned me into tiny works of art.

I was struggling to figure out the type of person this woman was, but I supposed that fact made her seem kind, compassionate, even. I still wasn’t sure what to make of her, but her drawings did warm my heart. She was looking straight at me now, her hair cascading about her face as she turned over her shoulder. Her gaze was bright, and sorrowful.

“Hey, it’s okay. I, I owe you an apology… for, for taking you back there… it was wrong… I’m so sorry for what she did to you….” I felt a pain in my chest, as tears sprung up again in my eyes. No. I didn’t want to relive that nightmare. Not now. Not just when I was beginning to hope, against all odds, that I might not stand on death’s door every day while under the care of this new human. Please don’t take my hope away from me by reminding me of the hell I just came from. She was still looking at me. I hung my head, unsure what to do.

“What’s your name?” Her question took me by surprise, I furrowed my brow.

“Huh?”

“What’s your name? What would you like me to call you? Or I can just keep calling you little guy if you like that better…” I couldn’t tell if she was joking or genuinely meant that.

What answer do you want? I’ve had at least 8 different names over the course of my life… but I assumed she wanted the most recent, “She…. She named me J-Joey, after some tv show character…” I had barely finished my sentence when the pad of her finger came to rest on my head. I stiffened but tried my best not to squirm. “No, what’s your real name?” Her finger suddenly started to move from its perch on my head, down my cheek and, finally, up under my chin. With a tiny amount of pressure from her, she guided my head until our eyes met. I clenched my teeth. You can be brave. Don’t be such a frightened little mouse. I swallowed but kept my gaze fixed, “Penn… my name is Penn… ma’am” she seemed to like that, her face blossomed into a bright smile. My shoulders relaxed a bit. It felt so nice to say my real name aloud for the first time in so long.

My victory was short-lived, though, because suddenly her face was getting closer and closer. Her mouth, in particular, was aiming right for me, descending directly on top of me! Horrified and fearing being bitten, or worse, eaten, I scrambled away into my little corner, unable to run any further. My eyes were wide and my nostrils flared, as my chest heaved. Her voice was as calm and sweet as ever, “Shhh, relax… calm down, you’re okay…” before I could beg her to reconsider, she pressed a finger into my chest, and pinned me up against the couch, making any escape impossible. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she leaned in for a second time, her target now immobilized. But no pain came. Instead, two warm, soft lips pressed sweetly against the top of my head. She hovered millimeters above me and whispered, her breath hot and sweet as it cascaded around me, “Hello, Penn. Nice to finally meet you…” Then, all pressure was released and I slumped to the ground. “I’m Eveline. But mostly people I know call me Ev. You don’t have to keep calling me ma’am, just Ev will do... You okay? I didn’t scare you that badly did I?” I was terrified out of my mind, of course. But I couldn’t deny the absolute thrill of hearing my name, my true name, the name my mother had given me when I was a little boy, said out loud, honored and revered. I paused to catch my breath before shaking my head and trying to pretend that I was fine.

“Penn?” There it was again! My name! I couldn’t help smiling at the sound of it. “You, uh, wanna hand me those boxers so I can wash them?” Oh. I’d completely forgotten about that. “Hey, nothing to be embarrassed about. Its okay. It wasn’t your fault. I’m certainly not holding it against you, you poor abused little thing….” She was only making it worse. I did as I was told, all while avoiding her eyes. She disappeared for a moment before returning, crouching back down as she had before. My breathing had at least calmed down by the time she returned.

“Tomorrow I’ll take you to pick out some clothes, how does that sound?” I’d have something to wear? It was certainly more than I expected. I was grateful.

“Thank you… thank you, ma’am.. er…” Fuck! She’d told me not do that. I searched her eyes and watched her hands carefully. Would she punish me for that mistake?

She seemed to think my terrified reaction was funny, as she laughed, “It’s okay. It’ll be hard to get used to at first.” Her fingers did approach me, but I quickly realized they were there to caress me along my spine.

After a moment of this, as I tried to relax, she spoke again, “I’m so glad I found you tonight… You sure are a cute little fella…” My face stung. Was I going to be okay here? Or would she treat me like an object just like everyone else? And for that matter, was she even planning to keep me? She had immediately tried to return me. Maybe she had no interest in keeping me at all. Maybe she didn’t want the responsibility. Did that mean she’d give me away to a friend or relative? Would she simply turn me out of doors to fend for myself? Or would I, once again, end up in a rescue center, whiling away my days in a metal cage, unable to avoid the ear piercing sounds of dogs barking and cats howling along the prison-like hallways, consigned to an existence of restless boredom and a never ending cacophony of noise that threatened to drive me insane?

“So…” I practically choked on the words.

“Go ahead…”

“So… you’re going to keep me?” I was scared to look at her expression. I stared at my own toes instead.

“Of course, little one. You got me to rescue you, now you’re stuck with me. You’re not going anywhere if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Oh thank god. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. That sigh turned, reflexively, into a yawn. I felt half dead from all the shit I’d been through this night. My body desperately needed to sleep.

“Oh! I saw that little yawn! Yeah, I think you’re right…. It’s sleepy time…. Poor little fella, poor, sleepy, little Penn… come here, come help me make your bed…” She was babying me, sure, but it was like water in a desert to me. She was kind, she was thoughtful and she was doing her best to take care of me. I was becoming less and less afraid of her. Maybe her warm tone was genuine after all. She grabbed my torso between two fingers and lifted me into the air. I was nude but I was so tuckered out I didn’t have the energy to protest. I just wanted to be put to bed. Her grip on me, however, did make me writhe in pain. She’d managed to press into fresh wounds from earlier in the night. “I’m sorry, little man! You okay?” Struggling to breathe, I nodded. She set me down on my hands and knees in the flat of her hand. I gripped her pinky and the flesh of her pointer finger for balance as she took steps towards the closet. She let me pick out my own blanket. She probably could never understand it, but something as simple as getting a choice in what I slept in was a luxury few pets afforded their whole lives, myself included. I was grateful for that gesture.

Soon, I was settled into bed. She crouched before me, eyes sparkling with delight, like a small child wishing her favorite doll a good night and sweet dreams, “Get some rest, little one. You’ve been through so much. Sleep in as long as you like. I promise you’re going to like being here so much more than… well, you know. Sweet dreams, Penn.” she leaned in and kissed my hair. I only jumped a little as she first came towards me. As she pulled away, my heart suddenly skipped a beat. For some very odd reason, I didn’t want her to go.

After everything that had happened, and praying with all my might to be left alone, now that I was faced with solitude, I didn’t want it. I was starting to not hate the warmth of her fingers or the feeling of her lips pressed against my head. They could actually be almost comforting after I pushed past my habitual fear. I wished I could ask her to stay. Or to take me with her. But I didn’t know how. And what if I ended up regretting it? I thought better of it and shut myself up before I had a chance to ruin everything.

And just like that, I was left all alone in the dark.

#Everything is TRAUMATIC when you’re five inches tall #it’s weird writing this after he’s had his growth journey #returning to terrified Penn is both nostalgic and upsetting #g/t writing #giant/tiny #g/t #g/t community #g/t related #size difference #g/t au #g/t fluff #g/t angst #nobody’s fool

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jeonggukkiepabo · 3 years

Text

CRYSTAL SNOW ❄ MYG

SUMMARY: Christmas has always been a stressful time for Yoongi: buying presents, decorating the tree, baking cookies, you name it-Yoongi does it. It wouldn't be so difficult if Yoongi had someone to help him, but all he has left in his life is his beautiful daughter Ara.But maybe this year, he won't be all alone.

GENRE: christmas fluff ❄ a bit of smut

WORD COUNT: 7,3k

WARNINGS: f l u f f, single parent yoongi, kindergarten teacher y/n, oral, satoori, domestic christmas vibes :(, mentions of death

AUTHOR’S NOTE: the secret collab is finally here! thanks @kimtaehyunq for letting me join💞 i’m so excited to read the other fics as well! & thank you Mags for doing this amazing banner I think this is the prettiest banner I've ever had. 🤧 Tysm love💞

MERRY CHRISTMAS

People usually say she looks a lot like her father, but all Yoongi sees in Ara is his wife. Wherever his daughter goes, his wife's ghost follows, the memory of his teenage love and the wonderful years they spent together until she left their lives.

Min Dasom died almost one year after Ara was born, her death coming too sudden for anyone to bid their last goodbyes-leaving her husband and baby heartbroken and alone.

It was awful, Yoongi won't be able to forget that one night the police called him, telling him that his precious wife drowned in the ocean during her monthly trip to the beach with her friends.

Ever since that call, Yoongi has never stepped near a beach again, never felt hot sand between his toes again, never went swimming again.

It was hard, being a single parent and Yoongi was tempted to give up many times, but seeing Ara grow and bloom into the beautiful girl she is now, Yoongi is beyond thankful that he survived the pain and sorrow.

He never drowned his thoughts in alcohol because his sunshine always looked at him with her sad little eyes, almost as if she knew what he wanted to do and hugged his legs tightly until Yoongi set the bottle away and picked Ara up and spent the night cuddling her.

Things got easier as soon as Ara was old enough to finally go to kindergarten, allowing Yoongi to work more hours and on a daily basis again. It's not like he needed a lot of money, it's just that Yoongi needs to work.

He's used to working all the time, he's always been-because working doesn't give him time to think about the tragedy that is his life.

Money wasn't an issue for the Min family, Yoongi used to be one of the most successful pianists and producers in South Korea, but he gave up on that as soon as Ara was born, just to have time for his family.

His friend Hyunjin offered him a job as a songwriter and composer at his own label JinHit Entertainment.

Yoongi could work from home whenever he wanted and needed to, but the studio Hyunjin set him up was way better and filled with new technology that Yoongi loved playing and experimenting with.

The acclimatization to her new daily routine wasn't easy for Ara because she wasn't used to having women in her life-until now, it has always been Yoongi and Ara. They ended up switching kindergarten two times before Ara came into the one that you've been working at for a while now-instantly falling in love with you.

The first few days with your new reference child we're quite… interesting because the little girl was full of action and so curious about every little thing in the room that you couldn't sit still and talk to her father for a while because Ara grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the next game she wanted to play.

Her father, Min Yoongi, sent you an apologetic smile as he watched you play with his daughter from a distance, giving you time to get used to each other and build a bond. You winked at him as you took a seat next to Ara and started to explain the rules of the board game to her-impressed about how well she was understanding them.

It didn't take Ara a long time to send Yoongi home, waving him goodbye and pressing a loud kiss onto his lips. "Go and work, Appa! Uncle Hyunjinnie waits for you to make good music!"

Yoongi looked at her with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're telling me to leave? Just to go and work? That is rude, princess."

You giggled and hugged Ara as she ran over to you, Yoongi long forgotten.

"Would you like to bring your dad to the door, Ara? I think he might be sad if you won't. Remember: he won’t see you for a few hours and you don’t want your dad to be sad during lunch, right?"

Ara giggled but nodded nonetheless and grabbed Yoongi by the hand. "Hurry!"

Yoongi looked at you in shock, desperately trying to hold in his laugh. "I think you gave me Ara's evil twin instead of my sweet little princess! Where is my nice girl that always kisses Appa goodbye?"

You shrugged your shoulders playfully as one of the other kids asked for you to help him with building a big tower out of building blocks. "Have a nice day, Mr Min. Oh and make sure you won't forget about our appointment on Thursday! I don't think it'll take longer than an hour, it's just to talk about Ara's development so far."

Yoongi was one of the few parents that were always punctual, not even a minute too late-and the only parent you've never felt any kind of rage towards. Not only that, but he attended every kindergarten fest, always prepared little cupcakes for Ara's birthday to bring with her to kindergarten and share with her friends.

May was rolling around quickly and you were as eager as always to craft some little gifts for the children to give their mothers.

You prepared some candle wax and melted it so the kids could fill it in plastic forms and add glitter and scent to their preference, just to have a nice little gift to give.

Most of the kids had fun, some of them were a bit grumpy because they got glitter all over themselves, but there is one little girl pouting and trying not to cry in front of them, not even touching the wax.

Ara.

It breaks your heart every time, knowing that Ara's mother died years ago and that she probably had no other woman in her life because you’ve already heard that her father works quite a lot.

Squatting down next to the little girl, you gently pinch her stomach just to hear her little giggles.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Don't you want to make a nice candle?"

Ara looks up at you, one single tear slipping out of her eye. "I don't have a mom, so no candle for me."

You coo, playing with Ara's hair as you stand up again, leading her towards the crafting table.

"That doesn't matter, Ara. I think your dad will be happy to get a candle too! We can pick a different color than pink, what do you think does he like the most? I’m sure we will find something!"

Ara taps her chin, smiling slightly as she thinks about Yoongi's favorite color. "Black! He wears black clothes! Always! Do we have black glitter, Y/N?"

She scrunches her nose at the first few oils, but one scent really lights up her face. "This smells like Appa! Can we use this?"

"We do, I didn't put it on the table because usually nobody wants it so it sits on the shelf, all by itself. I think the glitter finally deserves to be used!" You smile at the kid, grabbing the small container of glitter from the shelf and handing it over to Ara.

"We do have a few scents, would you like to smell them? Choose whichever you think smells the best and we can put a few drops in the wax,' you offer the bowl of different oils to Ara and help her open the lids.

Ara holds up the little bottle of rose oil and you smile to yourself. Black roses, that really seems to fit the impression you have of Mr. Min.

"Of course. Now, let's mix the glitter with the wax and we can put it into the mold. Alright, now stir it while i put in a few drops of the rose oil, okay?"

You guide her through the process, talking to her and listening to her rambling about the piano lessons Mr. Min gives her on a regular basis, just because Ara wants to be like her favorite man in the world.

"He is a great dad, Ara. You're so lucky to have him, I know that he must be sad sometimes too, but you're such a sunshine and help him as much as he helps you," you hug her from the side, enjoying the way Ara leans into the hug as well.

"I want a mom, but Appa is almost like a mom! He lets me paint his nails, goes to ballet with me and always bakes princess cookies for our tea parties!"

Ara giggles as she dips the wick into the liquid wax.

"Appa needs a woman to love, the only dates he goes to are work-dates with uncle Hyunjin," she says.

And yes, you think so as well.

One day around September, you decide that it’s definitely hot enough to prepare the blow-up outside pool for the kids, allowing them to change into their swimsuits and let them play around, even adding some bubbles to the water to let them experiment.

Mr. Min smiles at you, his gums fully showing and you can’t help but smile as well as you hear his words.

“And I think there’s no job that you could do better than this one.”

You’re sitting next to the pool on a bench in the shadow, reading some books to those few kids that don’t want to hop into the water as Ara jumps out of the pool.

“Y/N, come inside as well, it’s so nice!” She jumps up and down, her wet ponytail dripping onto her shoulders.

You pout, pointing to the kids next to you. “I can’t, you know that some of the kids are still afraid to go into the water with so many other children around. Maybe next time. Now, go and enjoy it, it’s super hot and I don’t know when autumn will come around and surprise us with bad weather!”

Ara nods quickly, hopping back into the water and continues splashing some water around with her friends, but she glances at you every few seconds. Then, she whispers with her two best friends before all three of them nod as they look at you.

Suddenly, they run towards you, surprising you with wet hugs and loud giggles, leaving your white summer dress almost see through.

Suddenly, there’s someone clearing his throat right behind you and you wish you could sink deep down into the pool once you see that it’s Mr. Min.

“Girls!,” you can’t help but yelp, the cold water causing you to jump up from the bench. Yet, you laugh with them, the cooling really helping you with the heat.

“You can’t just do that, Ara. Look at my dress now, you can almost see through it, you’re lucky that the parents won’t come in within the next two hours, otherwise they would see me like this,” you try to look stern, but to be honest: you would have done the same if you were Ara.

“Ara, why did you do that?,” he asks with his calm voice and tries his best not to look at your hardening nipples under the dress.

Ara’s bottom lip trembles as she looks at you with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just thought it would be funny…”

Mr. Min turns to you and bows slightly. “I’m sorry, she shouldn’t have done that. And well, I came to pick her up earlier because we will visit her grandparents over the weekend. I should’ve informed you earlier. Is there any way I can help you with your… erm, dress?”

Mr. Min nods at you, picking up his-still wet-daughter as he looks you up and down slow enough to leave goosebumps all over your skin once again.

You blush, shaking your head as you grab Ara’s clothes and hand her to her father.

“It’s alright, Mr. Min, it’s not your fault-and a water fight is too much fun to just not do it, right, Ara? It’s sunny enough so I’ll just bring the bench into the sun and I’ll be dry soon enough! I hope you’re having fun with your grandparents, Ara! Have a nice weekend, Mr. Min.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Min, really. You don’t know how many children happen to call one of us mom without realizing it. It’s nothing too wild, I’ve gotten used to it and I think especially in Ara’s case… It was supposed to happen, you know? I mean, I don’t want to intrude on your private life, but I suppose you’re not seeing another person and Ara isn’t growing up with other females, so she takes those she sees here as a female person to bond with, you know?”

“Thank you, mommy! Oh… I mean Y/N..,” Ara quirps as he turns around in her father’s arms, even though it doesn’t look like she’s really sorry at all.

“Ara!” Mr. Min gasps as he looks at his daughter.

Yoongi shakes his head. “I haven’t seen another woman ever since my wife died. Ara is the only woman in my life, the only one I give all my love to. She deserves it,” he sighs. “But you’re right, I think another female person would really help her with growing up. I just don’t want to introduce her to some random woman I might not even want to spend the rest of my life with. Is this egoistic?”

His honest words hit you, knowing how lonely he must be, all alone with his little girl and a bunch of work he has to do. “It’s not, Mr. Min. You don’t have to date just because you think it would be the best for Ara. There are many single fathers that raise their kids perfectly fine and I think you’re one of them! Ara never tells bad stories about you and I think you’re doing a really good job, spending all of your free time with her and allowing her to experience so many fun things. I’ve met so many ‘happy’ families that didn’t even manage to pack breakfast for their kids, so really, don’t break your head over something like this! I’m happy that Ara accepted me so much and that she always comes to me whenever she has a problem. This is why I chose my job.”

Over the next few months, Mr. Min is all that’s on your mind, even though you know how unprofessional it is, but he’s even kinder to you than he’s been before. You usually have a small chat with every parent whenever they bring or pick up their children, but Mr. Min makes sure to always catch you and ask you about your day, if there’s anything new in your life and you can’t help but ask him about his work and the songs he’s been working on as well.

“Ah, it’s really stressful right now. I’m working with this band that’s debuting soon and we have to prepare and finish the entire album I wrote about five songs for. They’re really good but still so young, I think the oldest is 16? Or was it 17? Whatever, that’s like ten years younger than me! I think I’ll grow grey hair soon when I keep on working with such young idols,” he sighs playfully as he helps Ara to put on her shoes and jacket.

“I mean, you’re not that old, Mr. Min. Don’t worry-as long as you keep that handful smile you will look like you’re straight out of some perfume poster. But I’d love to listen to one of your songs! I mean, if you’d let me,” you smile with honesty as you hand Ara her backpack.

Mr. Min shrugs, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he opens his Spotify account. He types something in and turns the screen towards you. AGUST D, it says. You scrunch your eyes at the name, trying to remember where you’ve known it from, but it doesn’t ring a bell right now.

“I’ll make sure to listen to some of your songs, I hope they aren’t too sad though, I prefer my music to be more… pop and rock?”

You cringe at your own words, hoping that the man knows what you were trying to say.

And fuck, you did like it. Turns out that AGUST D wasn’t some softie that plays guitar lullabies, no.

Yoongi cracks a grin, then winks at you playfull before he takes Ara’s hand after she said goodbye to you.

“I think you’re going to like it.”

AGUST D seems to be one of the best rappers in the music industry that you’ve ever been listening to. He sounds so aggressive and fast that you needed to listen twice to some of his songs to understand what he was saying, but you ended up adding much more songs into your playlist than you’d like to tell him.

But you did tell him.

“Oh, I’m not doing that crazy rap thing anymore. It was a phase, I guess. By now, I use the name to help smaller musicians and trainees, produce their songs and write their lyrics. It’s better to do so with a bigger name, but AGUST D died a long time ago, I guess I killed him.” Mr. Min says the next day.

"I mean, as long as you keep all of them on Spotify, I'm alright with that. Most of those songs match my aggressive driving vibe and I can't imagine driving to work without it." You try to joke before you realize what it must've sounded like. "Oh lord, I didn't mean it like that!"

You blush, trying to hide your reddened cheeks in your palms, but Mr. Min just laughs it off.

"Don't worry, I get what you mean. I usually play Love Talk as soon as i leave this building."

He even has the audacity to wink at you before he leaves with a grin, causing Ara to coo.

"Appa really likes you if he teases you!"

And the teasing goes on and on, there’s almost no day without a snarky comment from Mr. Min or a sarcastic comment from you-but neither of you takes those words to heart because that’s what you need in your lives, someone to laugh with, someone to make jokes with.

Even though there are plenty of other children in your group and so many parents you talk to daily, the only one you’re happy to see in the afternoon is Mr. Min.

The summer is long gone and fall said goodbye a few weeks ago, December came around and your little crush on Mr. Min isn’t as little anymore-and you can’t help yourself but wonder if he might be into you as well. You’ve shared a few noons talking about Ara’s development and if she’s ready for school next September, but most of the times you didn’t talk about the girl for more than thirty minutes before one of you switched the topic to something more private as the man leans closer to you and locks his gaze with yours.

You’re not as nervous around him as you were before and you can feel him starting to open up towards you as well. Yet, you’ve never met outside of the kindergarten, knowing it would be way too unprofessional and you’d never want to ruin the wonderful bond you share with Ara just because you’re desperate to jump into her father’s lap and call him Daddy too.

You’re not one of those women to go into a club and have a dirty one night stand with a random stranger, but you’ve been too busy to actually go and meet people, so you’ve kind of gotten used to being alone, even though you’re really missing late night cuddles and Disney marathons.

It’s Saturday afternoon and you’ve been strolling through the mall for a while now, looking for some christmas presents for your friends and family-but also wanting to treat yourself because work has been more than just exhausting lately.

You’ve been handling the entire group alone, having a lot more smaller children because new kids have been coming to kindergarten and having to deal with so many parents alone can be pure hell. Sadly enough you’re living all by yourself, only having a few close friends that don’t understand why you’re even doing this underpaid job and your last relationship crashed almost two years ago.

The mall looks amazing, beautiful christmas ornaments are hanging from the ceiling and there must be someone playing the piano somewhere because the soft melodic tunes fill the entire mall, reminding you of Mr. Min once again.

You just stepped out of a lingerie store, something you’re really passionate about even though nobody but yourself sees you in it, but you love the feeling of lace on your skin, love how beautifully the soft colors compliment your skin and love imagining Mr. Min ripping the soft material off you.

The small paper bag in your hand, you look around for another shop that might hold the next christmas present for one of your friends.

“Appa, please! I already have a picture but we need you to have one too!”

You know that voice too well to ignore it, searching the area for the small owner of it, giggling as you found her. Ara and Mr. Min are in the Santa area of the mall that gives you the ability to sit on Santa’s lap and take a picture with him as you tell him your biggest christmas wishes.

But the little girl is not sitting on Santa’s lap, she’s trying to push her father towards the man with the fake beard, clearly wanting him to sit down on that lap.

You giggle, walking towards them just to find out what’s going to happen.

“Ara, I’m too old and heavy for poor Santa, I think he prefers girls your age-wait, no not like that. I think he likes boys and girls-ugh. You’re driving me crazy, princess. Look, there’s a few other kids wanting to have their time with Santa as well, why don’t we just leave and try to find some more presents from the giftshop here, hm?” The man tries to talk his daughter into leaving the uncomfortable situation, but Ara is as stubborn as ever-she always gets what she wants, especially from her father.

“But… I want you to have pictures with Santa too!” She pouts, looking over at the confused Santa before she hears your giggle. “Y/N!”

Mr. Min turns around, a shocked expression on his face and a soft pink tint on his cheeks.

“Oh, Ms. Y/L/N. What a surprise.”

You giggle even more, stepping closer towards them. “Hello Ara, good afternoon Mr. Min,” you bow slightly before accepting the little girl’s hug.

“I see, you really want to sit on Santa’s lap, but Ara doesn’t want to let you because she’d be embarrassed.”

Yoongi hums in agreement. “Horrible, those children. I mean, I just want a nice christmas picture with Santa, but you know how they are… right before puberty hits them.”

“Y/N, Appa doesn’t want to take a picture with Santa, would you sit on his lap and take a picture for me?” Ara looks up at you with her big eyes and like always, you can’t say no. Instead, you hand Mr. Min your bags-not thinking about the fact that one of them is from the lingerie store-before taking Ara’s hand and walking over to the smiling Santa.

The picture is quickly taken and not even five minutes later, Mr. Min hands you your bags, whispering, so Ara wouldn’t hear you. “I think the peach one will suit you the best.”

Ara nods and rips the bags out of Mr. Min’s hands to show you her cute dresses and bows while the man just stares at you with an open mouth. Did you really just say that to him?

You gasp, hiding the bags behind your back but who are you to deny the fact that this man is the exact reason you stepped into the store?

“Thank you, I hope someone will get to see them before Christmas. It would be a shame to waste those pretty pieces for some lame mirror selfies,” you smile innocently before squatting down next to Ara. “Did you buy something nice yet?”

“Appa, we wanted to get hot chocolate, can Y/N come too please?”

Yoongi is speechless once more as he quietly follows his daughter and her kindergarten teacher towards the mall’s cafe-realizing that he shouldn’t have chosen his tightest pair of skinny jeans because somehow, they got quite uncomfortable as soon as you arrived.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at his daughter before he picks up all the dresses that Ara tried to shove back into the bags. “If she wants, she’s welcome to join, but I think you should ask her first, maybe she is busy.”

You blush at the invitation, not sure whether to accept it or not-but you’re not one to decline on hot chocolate. Smiling at Ara, you nod. “Show me where to get the best hot chocolate, I’m craving something sweet and thick down my throat.”

He watches you as Ara grabs your hand and swings them around with a soft giggle, heart warming as he sees your fond smile.

Ara talks about you a lot-hell, Yoongi asks about you a lot whenever Ara doesn't want to talk about you but watch her favorite show.

It's unprofessional and probably not allowed, Yoongi knows, but Ara leaves for school in March anyways, so who cares?

It's obvious to the both of you that you're interested in each other, the flirting and teasing coming to a point where Yoongi can't wait for another snarky remark of yours.

And now that he has the chance to sit and talk with you outside of your workplace, you just chose to buy a bag full of fucking beautiful lingerie (yes, Yoongi looked inside, no, he doesn't regret it).

Ara leads you into this beautiful cat cafe that apparently has "The best hot chocolate and bubble tea, but it's too cold for bubble tea… Can they make hot bubble tea?" as Ara says, earning a harsh "no" from Yoongi, because that's something he wishes for as well.

"Go find a place with Mr. Y/L/N, Ara. I'll get your order, yeah? What can I order for you?" Yoongi looks at you as he pulls out his wallet, giving you some time to read the menu.

"Oh, the candy cane hot chocolate, please! And please, as long as we are not talking inside the kindergarten, call me Y/N. I mean, you've seen my underwear, I think you deserve to call me by my name."

Yoongi blushes, nodding and rushes towards the cashier to order your drinks. You smile at the man, then at the cats-they look somewhat similar-before you sit down next to Ara who is currently petting four cats on her lap.

"They're adorable," you coo, "Do you have any pets?"

Ara nods with a big smile and hands you one of the cats, a pretty one with orange fur and big eyes.

"I have a turtle! Gukkie gave it to me and Appa didn't like it first, but I love her!"

You enjoy the cat's purring as you gently stroke her chin. "A turtle sounds lovely, I hope you can show it to me one day."

"Oh, that won't be a problem, I can invite you for dinner and Appa will get shy and red in the face, but he wouldn't say no because he's super soft for-" "ALPACAS! I'm soft for alpacas, haha, here we go, three hot chocolates."

Yoongi appears with a pained expression as he places your hot chocolate right in front of you.

"Thanks, Yoongi," you smile at the man and Yoongi swears that his heart stopped beating for a second. "I'm soft for Alpacas as well."

Right after you all finished your drinks, Ara decides that it’s time to walk through the mall once more, just to make sure that Santa is still there and will take another picture with hot chocolate-filled Ara.

“Did you enjoy your date with Y/N, Appa?” She looks up at her father as you walk towards the mall. Yoongi trembles, blushing brightly. “I’m pretty sure this wasn’t a date, Ara. Don’t assume things like this, it’s rude,” he mumbles as he gently pets her head to make sure she isn’t hurt by his comment.

You giggle, whispering loud enough for Yoongi to hear. “I really liked it, Ara. Your Appa can be funny if he wants to.”

The picture with Santa comes out pretty, even though the man groaned as two grown adults decided to sit on each of his legs, the bright smiling Ara kneeling in front of them. But it’s really worth it, because Yoongi’s smile never leaves his lips this evening, gums showing beautifully on the picture and you quickly make sure to get a copy of that picture as well.

Yoongi’s eyes widen. “So was this a… you know?” It’s endearing, how shy he suddenly seems to be. You’ve never seen him like this. Stressed, overworked and happy - yes. Shy and blushing? Never.

You nod with a soft smile as you lay your hand on his shoulder.

“Yes, I’d like that to be a ‘you know what’, Yoongi.”

You can't even tell when the two of you officially started dating, but you'll never forget the first kiss you've shared during one of your walks-thanks to Ara for snapping a picture of it. Yoongi's hands wrapped around your waist, eyes clenched shut and lips curled in a soft smile as fresh snow fell down on you.

Seeing Yoongi at work wasn’t as weird as you had expected it to be, it’s quite the opposite. He’s attentive and lovely, bringing you fresh croissants or donuts every morning or puting little chocolate for you and Ara in his daughter’s lunchbox.

He’s caring, picking you up after your shift to invite you to dinners and walks through the forest with Ara, because that little girl just loves walking in the fresh snow that has started to fall recently. She takes pictures of your footprints with Yoongi’s phone and makes him promise to print it for her to hang up.

“Of course I can, Ara. You’re already wearing your sleeping clothes and you’ve brushed your teeth with Appa, so hurry up and pick out the book you want me to read!”

Ara grows closer and closer to you, until that one day where you stay over the Min’s house for dinner, she asks you to bring her to bed.

“Can she, Appa? I want her to read my favorite bedtime story to me! Please, Y/N,” Ara looks up at you with a pout, her beautiful eyes-that remind you of Yoongi-sparkling with admiration.

That girl really makes your heart melt, combined with the soft smile that Yoongi gives you. And suddenly, you feel like you’re meant to be here, helping that man that you’ve grown so close to, helping the girl that lost her mother way too early and maybe even helping yourself with accepting that love really comes unexpectedly.

You gently tuck the soft blanket over Ara and place her favorite stuffie next to her as you smile at the girl fondly. "Sleep well, Ara," you whisper quietly, trying not to wake her up.

"Kissies, please," she mumbles sleepily and makes grabby hands towards you.

"Ara, I-" "Please," she whines and opens her eyes, tears starting to build up.

"Okay, it's okay, Ara." You swipe her hair out of her face before you plant a soft little kiss onto the girl's forehead. "Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Y/N. Will you be there tomorrow morning?"

Your smile fades, unsure if you really want to tell the little girl the truth.

"Probably not, I have to get ready for work. You know that I love to wear dresses on Thursdays and I didn't bring mine. But we will see each other in the kindergarten!"

"Okay," she whispers before she falls back into a quiet slumber.

Yoongi has cleaned the kitchen in the meantime and poured more wine for the both of you to enjoy in front of the fireplace.

"She really adores you," he says as you sit down next to him, sipping the rosé Yoongi bought just for you.

"And I adore her. She's an angel. Thank you for allowing me to spend so much time with her, Yoon."

Yoongi blushes again, shaking his head. The greyish blonde hair got messier as the evening passed. "No, Y/N. You're the first mother-figure Ara has, I have to thank you in both mine and Ara's name. I know that dating a single father is a lot, but you're accepting my family so well… I never thought I'd find another woman in my life again. Ever since my wife died, it was hard for me to even look at other women, let alone build up something like a relationship with them because I always felt bad. But that's what she would have wanted for me. To love again, to not waste my last handsome days," his lips curl into a smirk before he shakes again.

Then, his sharp eyes met yours and soften within seconds.

"I… I don't know if it's the right time, we've known each other for two years, we've been officially dating for only three weeks, but I think I won't change my mind about it-no I know that I won't change my mind. I love you, Y/N. And I know that Ara loves you too."

You gasp, lips beginning to tremble once your eyes meet Yoongi's. "Yoongi…," you whisper before you place your glass on the table and basically jump onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I wanted to be the one to tell you first. I love you so much, Yoongi. I've had this stupid crush on you ever since you saw me in that wet dress, ever since you've shown me your music. Ever since I've seen you being the wonderful father you are-and that's so sexy, you can't even imagine."

Yoongi smirks as his hands find their place on the curve of your ass. "Sexy, huh? Me, doing the laundry and cooking dinner? Or me walking Ara to kindergarten with the homemade lunch boxes? That turns you on?"

You laugh, hiding your face in his neck as you lean closer to press your lips against his ear.

"All of that-and the way that you love Ara with all your heart, that's maybe the sexiest thing about you."

The man groans as he grabs you even tighter. "I never thought that sweet talk would turn me on even more than dirty talk," he laughs shakily as he wiggles his hips slightly to get into a more comfortable position that won't suffocate his hardening erection.

You sigh, sit up and run your hands through his hair. "Isn't all of this too early? I always tell myself that I shouldn't fall so fast, but here I am, ready to go every step with you."

Yoongi nods before he presses a peck on your nose. "Same, but we have all the time on earth. Ara wants us to get married by tomorrow, but I'm sure she'll survive it if we decide to postpone it for a few weeks."

You giggle as you look over your shoulder to the fireplace. "Did someone ever suck you off in front of a fireplace? Isn't this the definition of Christmas?"

The man underneath you gasps in shock. "No, but… I mean, I… You don't… have to?"

Laughing, you slide out of his lap and onto the floor, thankful for the soft carpet. "I want to, bubs. I wouldn't do something either of us isn't comfortable with. I assume you're alright with it?"

"Of course, but… I guess nobody ever did it because they wanted to, but because they feel like they had to?"

You raise an eyebrow at him, obviously disappointed in his previous partners.

"It's as much fun and pleasure for me as it is for you, believe me, Yoon. Now lay back and enjoy, yeah?" You give him a calming smile as you open his pants carefully, then sliding them down his toned legs.

You press kisses all around his thighs to warm him up to the feeling, knowing that it has to be overwhelming to have some that close after all that time. Then, you gently remove his boxer shorts as well, leaving him bare and proud in front of you.

You groan as you start to stroke his cock, earning a low growl from Yoongi. "So beautiful," you whisper, then you take him into your mouth, getting a feeling for the weight on your tongue before you start bopping your head.

Yoongi tries to contain himself, knowing that Ara could wake up every second, but alone the sight in front of him could make him come with a scream.

Instead, he cups your cheek, feeling the bulge that he causes there. Another groan leaves his lips.

You look up at him, smirking-or trying to, with a mouth full of cock-and leading his hand into your hair, using it to push you down even more.

Yoongi's eyes lighten up. "Really?"

You almost laugh out, but you're doing your best to contain yourself and nod, placing your hands on his thighs to stop whenever you can't take it anymore. Yoongi is long and thicker than the average you've had before, but it's a challenge that's worth it.

He pushes you down slowly, enjoying the hot warmth of your mouth and then your throat as he pushes in-surprised that you didn't really gag around him.

Spit trickles down your chin as he moves faster, thrusting his hips to meet the movements of his hand and enjoying the gurgling sounds you make.

He comes far to quick for his own liking, shooting his load down your throat with a quiet groan. "Fuck."

You giggle as you swallow what he gives you, standing up to sit back on his lap to kiss him.

"You're welcome."

Then, before you can grab your wine again, he flips you around and goes on his knees in front of you. "My turn," he smirks, eyes shining dangerously behind his fringe.

"Yoongi, I-," you try to say, but he shushes you with a sloppy kiss.

"I know that I have to, but believe me: I love giving pleasure more than receiving it."

You pout, hands running through his soft hair.

"I didn't shave…," you whisper, a bit ashamed because you didn't come prepared, not thinking that this would be happening today.

The man in front of you raises an eyebrow.

"Do you think I am a 15 year old, pre puberty fuckboy that cares about shaved pussies? It's natural, love. Even if you can't believe it: I grow hair too, nobody is freshly shaved every day. I don't mind that, okay? Now, stop pouting and let me do my work, will you? Can you be a good girl and do that for me? All you've got to do is lean back, open your legs, throw them around my shoulders and let me devour you."

His shameless words turn you on, you can't even deny it-especially not when your panties are that damp. So, you naturally obey and help him to remove your pants.

"I told you, peach is your color," Yoongi groans in his deep Satoori as he looks at your clothed core. The peach colored lace has darkened from your arousal and the man can't help it but press his face against the material, licking one bold stripe over it.

Nobody has ever done that to you, rather pulled them off in a hurry because they thought that body fluids were disgusting, but Yoongi didn't seem to mind as he gently bites your folds through the lace.

"God," you moan in pleasure as Yoongi finally pulls your panties to the side and spits onto your pussy, making it even wetter.

You're a whimpering mess as soon as Yoongi's tongue is on you, flicking and playing with your clit, collecting your juices and spreading them all over your pussy. You've read about that before; men eating pussy like they're starving, but Yoongi is somewhat different.

He eats pussy like he wants you to always remind it, to make you obedient and never being able to enjoy anyone else doing that job.

He does it well-of course. His tongue is as fast as he's been spitting rhymes on his mixtape, and you're more than thankful for that.

He doesn't even get to use his fingers before your orgasm approaches you, strong waves of pleasure hitting you as Yoongi keeps on kissing and slowly licking you through your high.

Then, he grins at you. "Round two, here we go."

And this time, it's not only his tongue working wonders, but also his fingers stroking you on the inside until they found your spot.

You press your hands on your mouth to keep yourself from screaming out loud, hips bucking wildly as you come for a second time within less than ten minutes. And again, Yoongi guides you through it and softly caresses your stomach.

"Fuck, I love you," you pant as he comes back up and steals a kiss from you.

"I can't wait to have you in my bed properly," he whispers and takes a large sip from his wine.

You can only agree.

You've started to spend the nights at Yoongi's more often, bringing Ara to work with you and helping Yoongi with her and the household whenever you can. Your relationship blooms beautifully and Ara is the happiest little bean when you're around.

Obviously, you spent Christmas with Yoongi and Ara as well, buying little presents and enjoying the comfortable atmosphere with the family.

Yoongi gave you a spare key to his house, so you're always able to visit them, spending the nights there and soon enough, you moved in.

❄❄❄❄

The Christmas after that, you surprised Ara with the adoption papers, telling her that now that she's in school and not one of your kindergarten kids anymore, she'll be able to finally call you Mommy (not that Ara minded before, you just felt weird and guilty about it).

And here you are now, preparing the huge breakfast for your third Christmas around, smiling at the ring that adorns your finger.

"Smells fabulous, Mama," Ara says as she runs towards you and falls into your arms.

"Do you want me to help you with dessert, Mrs Min?" Yoongi asks as he presses a kiss onto your cheeks. You lean into his touch, shaking your head. "It's almost done. You can go into the living room, I'll be there in a minute to open our presents, bubs."

Yoongi prepares the fireplace, lightens some candles with Ara and lets his daughter hand out the presents.

"I have one more for you, Yoon," you whisper as you hand him a small box.

"Oh? Can I open this first?" He tilts his head curiously, shaking the light box.

"Open!" Ara squeaks and sits down between her father and you. You nod with a fond smile as Yoongi lifts the top. Then, silence.

"Really?" He whispers with teary eyes.

"Yes, finally," you smile, "Ara, you'll become a big sister!"

Yoongi sniffs, hugging his family tight.

"And she'll be the best sister in the world. Merry Christmas, loves."

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