#so now he lives clear across town instead of around the corner

[butterballbuttnakey]

🥲

[onlymingyus]

Bound to You (fall-ing for you collab)

pairing; yoon jeonghan x f!reader 

genre; smut (minors dni), angst, supernatural au, soulmate au

warnings; warlock!jeonghan, wonwoo side character/family member, mentions of magic, curses, death/murder, auras, soulmates, death of parents, complicated family dynamics, borrowed story point from Goblin, protected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), cum eating, orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, very light bondage in the form of binding hands/tying to the bed, marking/biting, pet names, aftercare

w/c; 12.9k and some change 

svthub fall-ing for you collab masterlist 

a/n; thank you to @wonwussy and @wooahaeproductions for beta/proofreading -- if you have been following me for a while you might notice this fic is in the same universe as Lavender Tea and Honey. I hope you enjoy this. 

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

Jeonghan’s slender fingers run over the pages of the book in front of him as he lifts the cup to his lips. The warm vanilla latte runs down the back of his throat before he settles the cup onto the table, getting lost in his own world once again. 

Two weeks and three days—that was how long Jeonghan had been in this new town. He didn’t hate it but it was different than where he had lived before. He didn’t mind being around his extended family. He was enjoying the benefits of their cafe and the quiet ambiance that came along with the little corner he had stuck himself into but there were reasons he had ended up here. 

Say one thing wrong when you are what Jeonghan and his family are and know the wrong people, you might end up cursed or dead. It wasn’t entirely Jeonghan’s fault that he had the attitude or the mouth that he had. No, those were passed down to him by his parents as parting gifts.

Maybe this would be better in the long run… Jeonghan thought to himself as he traced a small doodle he had scribbled in the margins of his book a few years ago. A fresh start never hurts anyone. A little peace and quiet never hurts anyone. 

“Hi Wonwoo. Can I get —” 

“A chai tea latte?” 

Your laugh is soft and like bells, drawing Jeonghan’s attention up towards the counter. He hadn’t paid much attention to his cousin's work or anyone else ordering but for some reason now he couldn’t look away. Jeonghan watched as you tilted your head at the tall, dark headed barista. It wasn’t like you were flirting with the man; instead, it was clear you were friends. 

“Yeah, please. Am I that predictable?”

Wonwoo grins, turning from you to start making your order. His hands are precise with years of training and muscle memory. You came in almost every day and almost every day you got the same drink. So yeah, you were predictable. 

“You want the truth or do you want me to just make your latte?” 

Jeonghan watches, not realizing a smile had caused his lips to lift at either side. You were effortlessly beautiful. The type of beautiful that someone doesn’t even realize how beautiful they are until someone explains it to them. 

“Mm, my latte. If I want the truth, I’ll visit my family.” 

Sliding the exact change across the wooden counter, you smile at Wonwoo once more before turning to lean against it. The barista laughs as the sound of milk steaming causes you to feel warm from your head to your toes. You loved this cafe. Not just for the drinks but for every part of it—the employees, the other patrons, the sounds, the smells, and the familiarity.  

Hearing Wonwoo’s gentle, deep sigh, you turn back towards him, taking the cup from his hands. With a soft thank you, you turn towards your usual table to find the usual familiarity of your favorite cafe is broken. A man with dark hair and eyes watches you from your usual corner, a slight smile on his lips that makes the pit of your stomach feel deeper. 

The feeling is a confusing one. It wasn’t a feeling of dread. Not even a feeling of fear. Instead, this was a feeling somewhere between anxiety and desire. Smiling back at him, you quickly lower your gaze, deciding to pick a table close to where you usually sit out of the desire to be close to your favorite spot and this unfamiliar man. 

When you smile at him Jeonghan feels his breath get caught in his throat. He was no stranger to women. He knew he was attractive and charming so the fact that you caused such a reaction from him with just a simple smile and your mere existence was baffling. Taking in a deep breath, Jeonghan watches you walk closer towards a table next to him to take a seat. The calming scent of your chai tea latte wafting to his nose causes him to let out a soft sigh as he lowers his eyes to his table in an attempt to not make you feel uncomfortable. 

The overwhelming desire to look up at you, watch you, or perhaps speak to you was causing Jeonghan’s stomach to twist into a knot. Licking his lips, Jeonghan closed his eyes, his fingers shakily spreading across the wooden table in front of him as he tried to bite back on his whims when your voice shocked him out of his trace. 

“Your latte smells delicious. I’m always so tempted to try something new, especially something vanilla, but I’m a creature of habit, I suppose.” 

Smiling into an amused scoff, Jeonghan is ready to answer you before he meets your eyes but that is when any intelligent thought he once had fades into nothingness. He hadn’t noticed it before. Perhaps you were too far away? Perhaps it had been because you hadn’t spoken to him yet but a ribbon like maroon aura was spirling around your left arm and hand. 

“I–what?” 

Furrowing your brows, you wonder if you had read the room entirely wrong when the man speaks to you. He had seemed so confident not a moment before and now he seemed awkward and confused. Swallowing hard, your eyes downward at your own cup, you run your left index finger around the rim of the cup, not having the courage to look back over at him just yet. 

“Just…was talking about your drink. Making conversation. I’m sorry if you wanted to just be alone. You were looking at me; I thought it would be okay to talk to you.” 

Jeonghan shook his head at your words. He didn’t want you to be sorry. The knot in his stomach was so tight, he felt like he could fold in half if he didn’t figure this out. He had seen auras before but they were rare. 

Usually, if witches or warlocks were going to do something unthinkable, they would give off an aura of danger to those who could see them. Humans could give off auras if they were considering ending their lives or if they were bringing new life into the world. Jeonghan had only seen a handful of auras in witches, warlocks, or humans in his entire life, and they had never been focused around someone’s hand like yours was. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to leave me alone. You just–-it’s really impossible to explain. You were talking about my drink. I get the same one every time too. I’m so used to the taste; it's familiar. What is your name?” 

Smiling a bit to yourself as the man rambles, you take a sip of your drink, letting out a pleased sound to the taste before licking your lips of the sweet foam. You're startled by how handsome the man truly is when you finally lift your head to see his eyes.

“I’m–my name?” You had one—a name. At least you had one up until the moment before you looked up into the man’s eyes. Now you weren’t sure if you remembered how to breathe, much less speak or think straight. 

Jeonghan smiles, feeling himself becoming more enamored with you as you look confused and as scattered as he had felt just a moment ago. Did you feel it too? The sudden, odd connection? Biting at his bottom lip, Jeonghan slides his chair closer to your table, turning it towards you as his fingers delicately trail along the handle of his cup. 

Your eyes are drawn to his fingers; your pretty eyes are almost entranced by the movement as you take a steady breath, seeming to come back to reality. “Y/N. I’m Y/N.” 

You hadn’t asked for his name but Jeonghan didn’t mind. You were looking at him like he was the first and last thing you wanted to see on any given day and he knew the feeling. Taking his own deep breath, Jeonghan glances back down at your fingers and the maroon ribbon of magic swirling around them. 

“I’m Jeonghan. It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

Your name on Jeonghan’s lips was better than any music you had heard in a long time. It was reverberating in your ears, causing goosebumps to erupt along your skin. He was so handsome that you were having a hard time keeping your thoughts organized. Everything seemed jumbled, speeding towards him, and at the same time, everything was in slow motion around you. 

“I–” You laugh softly, shyly looking down, before you force yourself to look back at Jeonghan once again and into his pretty dark eyes. “It’s nice to meet you too. I come here all the time, and I feel like I would have seen you here before. Are you new to town?” 

Meeting your eyes, Jeonghan can’t help the way his smile exposes his enthusiasm. He wanted to play it cool and be some attractive man you had met in the coffee shop that you would pine after for weeks. Instead, he couldn’t help feeling like some schoolboy with a crush as his stomach tightened when you smiled back at him.  

Leaning his arm on the table, Jeonghan bites at his bottom lip, drawing your attention towards it briefly before he laughs almost as if he’s trying to consider his next words carefully. His eyes move past you towards the counter where Wonwoo was talking to a customer before he furrows his brows and shakes his head. 

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve visited before. Many times, actually. My family…extended family owns this shop. Wonwoo is my cousin; it seems like you know him pretty well. I just recently moved here, though. I’ve been spending a little more time here in the shop, at least for the past week or so.” 

That made more sense to you as you nodded along, staying quiet. Your eyes move to Wonwoo, who seems to notice, giving you a friendly smile, only to glance towards Jeonghan with a curious look in his eye. There was a bit of caution laced in his gaze but he didn’t seem to linger, instead going back to his tasks. 

“I see, I was out of town a couple days. I normally come in almost every day to get my drink so I probably would have seen you sooner.” 

You smile again, making Jeonghan swallow hard. There was no way that if you had stepped into this cafe before today, he would have missed you. There could be 100 people surrounding him now and he would find you again. 

Looking down at his own drink, Jeonghan lets out a soft, breathy laugh as you seem to study him, waiting for what he will say next with baited breath. You had never cared that much about anything anyone would say. It wasn’t like you needed a partner. It wasn’t like you came to this cafe or any cafe for that matter, looking for someone to be with. Especially not someone that you needed to speak to you so that you could breathe, but that is how it felt after just fifteen minutes of sitting at a table near Jeonghan. 

“I wish you could have come in sooner...  Fuck, I can’t explain what I’m about to say. I–I swear, I’m not a creep.” 

Almost afraid to meet your eyes, Jeonghan laughs, only to fall silent when you shake your head, letting out your own soft laugh. 

“For some reason, and I really can’t explain why I’m even saying this but I think no matter what you are about to tell me...I think I’ll understand. I sound like a crazy person.” 

Jeonghan shakes his head this time, lifting his eyes to yours to meet them with a persistent look, trying to shake away that feeling from you. You weren’t crazy. He knew crazy; he had met crazy, and that wasn’t you. Crazy couldn’t hide from him. 

"No, you don’t. Not to me. I was going to say I’d like to get to know you better. Could I get your number? I’d like to take you out.” 

Normally, you could hide your enthusiasm about situations. In this sort of situation, your friends would tell you to play it cool and play hard to get. Yet here you were smiling at this handsome man you had just met, like he had asked you to marry him when all he had asked for was your number and the chance to see you again. 

Jeonghan watches you rub your lips together, your pretty smile only dimming slightly with effort before you nod. His eyes follow your hands, the maroon ribbon swirling like water around your fingers as you slide your phone from your purse and look at him expectantly.

“Only if I can have yours too.” 

With numbers exchanged, conversation came easy until drinks were finished and your cheeks hurt from smiling. You had learned more about Jeonghan, yet you still knew nothing. He was still just as much a mystery as he had been when you spotted him at your table but the spiral of nerves and fluttering of butterflies in your stomach begged you for more. 

Keeping his eyes on you as if you were vanishing into thin air, Jeonghan couldn’t help the way his brows knitted together as he watched you return your cup to the counter. His chest felt tight and heavy listening to your voice as you said your goodbyes to Wonwoo, promising to be back tomorrow. Even though Jeonghan knew he had a way to contact you and the promise of plans with you, it was hard to bear the idea of the meeting ending already. 

Turning back to the tables, you stop when you find Jeonghan standing, a similar tightness in your chest, realizing what was happening. Smiling in an attempt to shake off the feeling, you sigh when he moves to meet you halfway, mimicking your sigh. 

“Thank you for letting me sit in your spot, Y/N.” 

Jeonghan smiles as you laugh, walking towards the door beside him. His hand reaching it first so he can push it open for you, the chilly fall air hitting both of you, causing you to shiver and wrap your sweater around yourself a bit tighter. 

“Mm, you’re welcome. You can join me anytime you’d like. The company wasn’t half bad.” 

Biting at your lip, you wrinkle your nose at your attempt at flirting. Your eyes fixed on the sidewalk, as neither of you can bear to make the first move to part from one another just yet. Jeonghan just laughs into a small sigh watching you, his eyes moving over your beautiful face even as you look down from him. He wanted so badly to reach out to tilt your chin up to him so you’d look at him but he finds himself tightening his fist instead to push away the instinct. 

“No? I hope I can keep being “not half bad company” then. Uh, how ‘bout tomorrow? Do you have any plans? Or is that too soon?” 

Finally lifting your head, you smile at Jeonghan like you had before and he feels his heart ache. If he didn’t know any better, he’d call the feeling love. 

“Yeah? I mean, no. I–let me try this again. I would love to see you tomorrow. I do not have any plans, so I would love to spend time with you.” 

Heat creeps along your cheeks as you stumble through your words, Jeonghan’s lips pulling up into a smirk and then a full smile. Stepping closer, he laughs and shakes his head, keeping his eyes on yours. In his mind, you were impossibly perfect. Every stumble of your words was you stumbling right into his life and he was ready to catch you. 

“Then it’s a date. Do you want to meet here tomorrow afternoon? Around 4?” 

Nodding, you take in a breath, finding your knees feel weak with Jeonghan so close to you, even though you are grateful he is blocking the wind. You were happy not to feel as much of the cold air on your face but the overwhelming scent of vanilla was clouding your thoughts and making your mouth water. 

“Mmhm, I’ll be here. I can’t wait.” 

Taking in his own deep breath, Jeonghan nods along with you, Chai invading his senses and making his head swim with desire for you. How hadn’t he noticed before that you even smelled like chai tea? It was delicious and almost overwhelming. 

“I–me either. I should…get going. It’s getting cold. You are going to get too cold standing out here because of me. I’ll see you tomorrow, beautiful.” 

Swallowing hard Jeonghan speaks before he thinks, his lips and brain not seemingly connected as the scent of you clouds his judgment. Taking a step back, Jeonghan takes in a breath of fresh, crisp air before smiling at you and lowering his head as you watch him bewildered as he walks away, leaving you with your thoughts and how he had called you beautiful. 

Out of nerves, you had gotten to the cafe early. It was even colder so despite wanting to wait for Jeonghan outside, you had to give up on that idea and wait inside, where Wonwoo had quickly put a togo cup in your hands to warm them up. 

“Oh…I–thanks, Wonwoo. I didn’t even tell you I wasn’t staying today.” 

Shaking his head, the barista pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he moved around the counter with a damp cloth in his hand. You smiled at him, watching him clean off a table as you listened to him talk, your eyes moving to the door every time the bell would ring. 

“You are meeting my cousin. He’s pretty prompt, so you have a few minutes. Hang out and get warm before you leave again. I was kinda hoping to talk to you before you met him again.” 

Your smile faded slightly with Wonwoo’s wording, causing you to clear your throat before you brought your drink to your lips and took a sip. Was this one of those be careful and don’t hurt my family kind of talks? You weren’t sure why this was making you so nervous. You liked Wonwoo and he had never made you uncomfortable before, but now you were afraid to disappoint him. 

“Mm, okay? Am I in trouble?” 

Wonwoo’s laugh sends a wave of relief over you but it’s brief and fleeting as he sighs, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. 

“Course not. It’s nothing like that. It’s just... You’re my friend and I just wanted to... Damn, no matter how I say this, it sounds bad so I’ll just say it.” Nodding mostly to himself and gaining the courage to keep speaking, Wonwoo gestures with his cloth before continuing. “Jeonghan is a great guy. He’s my family and I love him but he’s had a rough past. He’s had a hard life at times and I just want you to remember that going into whatever this is you two are doing.” 

Watching from outside through the window, Jeonghan rubs his fingers together inside the pocket of his jacket as you talk to Wonwoo. The conversation seemed casual enough but something Wonwoo said caused your brows to furrow in a way that made Jeonghan’s stomach tighten. 

Wonwoo rubs his lips together, looks over your face and sees how your brows are knitting together as if you were trying to piece together a puzzle right in front of you. He wasn’t trying to scare you away from Jeonghan. He didn’t want his cousin to not find someone to be with; he just wanted you both to be careful and he could see something was moving quickly between the two of you that neither of you understood. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, if I upset you. That is not my intention. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, and I’m certainly not saying not to see Jeonghan…” 

“I’d hope you wouldn’t be saying that, Wonwoo.” 

Jeonghan’s voice seems to break through the tension, pulling you away from Wonwoo, who sighs at meeting his cousin’s gaze. You had almost expected him to be angry at Wonwoo but instead you find him smiling as if it were expected and part of a joke. Wonwoo shakes his head, glancing down at the table in front of him and picking up a tea cup, then turning back towards both of you. 

“I’m not. I’m just talking to my friend. You want a drink to go?” 

Not waiting for his answer, Wonwoo walks behind the counter, leaving you with Jeonghan, who laughs under his breath, rolling his eyes out of slight annoyance. 

“Yeah, please.” 

The sounds of Wonwoo working on Jeonghan’s drink become background music as you swallow hard, finally looking up at your date to find him watching you curiously. His dark eyes move over your face almost as if he were checking you for sighs of pain or injury, though there was clearly no need before he finally smiles, causing you to do the same. 

“Hey, I feel like I’m late.” 

Laughing, you feel warmth rush over your cheeks at Jeonghan’s words. You start to explain yourself when Wonwoo says his name and Jeonghan sighs out "just a second,” leaving you to watch him move to the counter. His hushed voice and Wonwoo’s are enough to tell you that you should mind your own business but you find yourself trying to turn your ear in to hear them better, only being able to catch a word here and there. 

“Just–she’s not like you. She’s not like us. Be careful with her.” 

“I’m not an idiot. Thank you for your concern.” 

When Jeonghan turns back towards you, you put your drink to your lips in an attempt to look as if you hadn’t been trying to eavesdrop on his and Wonwoo’s conversation. Your eyes move from his face to Wonwoo at the counter as the barista shakes his head, muttering something to himself and Jeonghan finally makes his way to you with a long sigh. 

“Ready to go? It’s pretty cold, and the wind is making it even colder. Here…” 

Nodding, you start to speak when Jeonghan offers you his drink, making you tilt your head like a confused puppy. It’s only when you take it that you realize why he offered it to you to hold. His hands move to the jacket zipper, pulling it upwards before he fiddles with your scarf, making sure it is against your neck, keeping you warm and protected against the cold air. 

“Oh…I–thanks.” 

Jeonghan smiles at your softly spoken words, his fingers slipping over yours briefly to take his drink back. Your eyes follow him to the door, where he holds it open for you, gesturing his head towards it and taking in a deep breath of the crisp, fall air. 

“No problem, can’t have my date catching a cold. Wonwoo might kill me.” 

You can tell it’s a joke while also taking a stab at his conversation with Wonwoo but even as you move out onto the sidewalk with Jeonghan, you can’t help but feel bad about the conversation you had shared with his cousin. Chewing on your cheek, you walk beside him for a moment before finally letting out a breath and a whined sound as you speak. 

“I’m sorry… You know if that was my fault? I don’t want you to fight with your family because of me. I know I’m friends with Wonwoo so if that’s too weird and it means you can’t see me or something, I totally get it.” 

Jeonghan’s eyes widen slightly at the whine in your voice, his lips pulling up in a smile as you start to ramble out your apology as well as his “out”. Shaking his head, the man laughs, glancing over at you and lifting his brow curiously. 

“If you think I’m going to let Jeon Wonwoo get in the way of something or someone I want...Y/N, you need to get to know me. Yeah, he’s family, but that’s it. I value family, sure, but blood is just blood. It doesn’t mean everything.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat as Jeonghan watches you, his eyes falling to your lips before they move back to your eyes. He laughs again into another sigh as the two of you turn towards the entrance of the park. Soon, it is just the soft sounds of traffic, quiet, distant conversations, and the crunching of leaves that fill your ears as you walk. 

“Was that too much? The family thing?” 

Shaking your head at Jeonghan’s question, you lift your head to look at him, finding his brows softened. You hadn’t realized the two of you had been walking in silence for a few moments; you had just been lost in thought. 

“No, not at all. Family is complicated. People are complicated. If we weren't, we’d be made of plastic or something.” 

Jeonghan can’t help but scoff in disbelief at how easily you seem to understand him. Nodding, he furrows his brows before leaning his head back towards the sky as he walks beside you. The sky was gray, but the maple trees in the park looked like they were on fire, all red, yellow, and orange. With each new burst of cold wind, more leaves shook loose from their branches, making their way to the earth, reminding Jeonghan of how easy it was to fall. 

You watched Jeonghan for a moment before looking up at the sky yourself. The trees made you smile as the leaves drifted to the ground around you and the man beside you. It was beautiful because, where he saw falling, you saw possibility. 

“The leaves are so pretty, don’t you think? You know, I was told once that maple leaves are special.” 

His eyes falling back to you, Jeonghan stops walking with you. He watches you standing with your eyes towards the sky, your hand out in front of you, a smile on your face as the chilly air brushes by you both. 

“Yeah? Whys that? 

Your smile seems to get bigger at his question and Jeonghan feels that feeling of his heart aching—that sensation of falling in love. You laugh, and your words are spoken with that same laughter, as if you are trying to believe them as much as you are trying to get him to believe them. 

“I was told if you catch a falling maple leaf, you will fall in love with the person you are walking with.” 

Jeonghan smiles at your words, his eyes moving to the falling maple leaves as he reaches out to catch one. 

“Yeah? What if you have already fallen in love with someone and you catch a maple leaf?” 

You shake your head. Another laugh is on your lips when you look at Jeonghan as he catches a maple leaf walking towards you. Falling silent, you press your lips together, feeling your cheeks heat up even as the cold air nips at them like kisses. 

“Well? Do you know the answer to that one?” 

Watching your lips pull up into a smile, Jeonghan offers you the maple leaf as he leans down to brush his lips against yours like a question. Even with his face so close to yours, he meets your eyes as your fingers brush against his, taking the leaf from his fingers before you answer his question by pressing your lips to his. 

The kiss is warm and safe. Nothing feels rushed and yet you feel like if you don’t keep kissing him, you might cry. Jeonghan smiles against your lips when you whine softly, feeling him pull away from you. His thumb rubbing the back of your hand as he leans back to look at you and your wide eyes. 

“I–don’t know the answer to your question.” 

Jeonghan laughs, his hand dropping from yours to lift to your face when you notice something that startles you. Your shocked gasp as you lean back from Jeonghan causes him to look at you, concerned that he has hurt you. 

“What’s on your hand?” 

Shaking his head, Jeonghan looks around for other people, pleased to see the two of you alone when you take his hand and study it. He watches as you run your finger along his left hand, tracing something he couldn’t see but somehow, because of what he had seen with you and what he knew, he had an idea. 

“Tell me what you see, Y/N. I don’t see anything; that doesn’t mean it’s not there. Trust me, okay?” 

Your hands were shaking. Jeonghan knew then that Wonwoo was right; you weren’t like them. Not completely anyway. He had wondered if you had a little magic in you, so in a way, they were both right. 

“It’s impossible. I’m going crazy. It’s like...gold ribbons? Gold ribbons around your wrist, your hand, and your ring finger? Jeonghan…I swear I don't—I'm not insane.” 

Sliding his fingers through yours, Jeonghan shakes his head once more, leading you towards a nearby bench to sit down. Taking the maple leaf from you, he puts it into a small book before putting it back into his pocket and turning to take both of your hands, meeting your eyes. 

“I know you aren’t crazy. I’d never call you insane. I don’t like that word. It’s used far too often for people who can do things that others can’t, for people who can see things others can’t.” Sighing into his next words, Jeonghan smiles at you. “I can explain this to you but it would take time. I would need more time than I have in this park and honestly, what you saw... I'm not even sure what it means.” 

You knew logically that you should be scared of what he was saying about what you had seen, but then there was something about you that made you know there was nothing to be scared of. There was something inside of you telling you that he was telling you the truth and that you could trust him. Taking his hand back into yours, you watch the gold ribbon shimmer along his skin as Jeonghan watches the maroon ribbons on your left hand. 

“I want to understand it.” 

Nodding, Jeonghan reaches up with his free hand to brush his fingers over your cheek. His thumb resting on your cheekbone, the man sighs, hoping he isn’t overwhelming you, feeling like he can’t lose you just as much as he doesn’t want to lose you already. 

“Then I’ll explain it to you. We have time. I’m not planning on going anywhere.” 

Jeonghan’s words were comforting, just as comforting as watching the gold ribbon move around his hand. Smiling, you nod, finally looking up from his hand to meet his eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you see more leaves fall and you can’t help but think about how they seem to fall slowly at first when they first leave the branch and then all at once the closer they get to the ground. That was how you felt about Jeonghan, even in a short amount of time. 

Daylight was shorter so by the time Jeonghan walked you back to your apartment building, it was dark. Your fingers were laced with his, the taste of chai in your mouth, though you were beginning to wonder if it was still lingering from the tea you had had earlier or if it was something else Jeonghan needed to explain to you.  

Jeonghan’s eyes moved over the door that seemed to want to take you from him and his fingers tightened to keep you with him for even just a moment longer. He knew it was selfish but he didn’t care anymore. He had already had so much taken from him in his life and now you had been placed in front of him like a gift. Why couldn’t he hold on a little tighter for as long as he could, even if it seemed too quick? 

“I’m beginning to think we should have met at the beginning of the day.” 

Your pretty laughter makes Jeonghan’s heart beat faster as you let go of his hand in place of wrapping your arms around him as if you had known him for years. Taking in a breath as he leans to rest his face against your hair, Jeonghan closes his eyes, wrapping his arms around you in return, feeling that urge to hold on tighter once again. 

“Next time, we will meet at the crack of dawn. I can learn about your entire life.”  

Jeonghan smiles against your hair before shaking his head. He would tell you anything, even things he didn’t want to but he wanted to know about you. He wanted to be part of your life and your family. He wanted to keep his family here but now there was you. There were those ribbons. 

“Mmm, I’ll tell you whatever you wanna know, Angel.” 

You smile, moving to nuzzle your nose against Jeonghan’s neck, when he calls you Angel. You hadn’t expected him to call you something like that. First, it had been beautiful and now, Angel? He really knew how to sweet talk you. 

Feeling the warmth of your cheek against your skin, Jeonghan laughs, leaning back to look down at you. His fingers press into your jacket, wishing he could get closer to you, touch your skin, and be skin against your skin. 

“What? You like that? Angel?” 

Jeonghan watches you nod shyly, causing him to laugh. You were perfect and you were his; at least that was how he felt. At least that was what he wanted. Swallowing hard, Jeonghan couldn’t fight his urge to kiss you again. He had to do it at least once more before he left. 

When Jeonghan’s lips meet yours this time, you can’t help the soft moan that slips from between yours. Between how warm the kiss felt and the gentle brush of his tongue against your upper lip, you find your knees going weak, needing his arms to keep you upright. 

Furrowing his brow at your reaction, Jeonghan tightens his grip on you, deepening his kiss. He becomes braver, daring to let his tongue explore your mouth. His tongue glides along yours, causing goosebumps to erupt along his skin when the taste of vanilla spreads along his taste buds. You were unlike anyone he had ever been with in his entire life. 

It is almost painful when Jeonghan forces himself to kiss you one last time, knowing he's saying goodnight. One last chaste kiss that lingers before he pulls away, watching your smile fade even slightly as he does. Jeonghan smiles still, brushing his nose against yours as you speak softly. 

“Would it be weird to tell you that you taste like chai?” 

Laughing Jeonghan shakes his head, leaning to rest his forehead against yours as your fingers slide into his jacket to get as close to his skin as possible through the layers of his shirts. 

“No, I was going to tell you that you taste like vanilla.” Sighing, Jeonghan then lets out a groan almost in pain when he leans back to stand up straight. “I guess I should say goodnight. Your cheeks and nose are getting really cold standing out here.” 

You laugh, furrowing your brows, learning that you taste like vanilla, only to frown when Jeonghan says he should say goodnight. You knew that he was right. You were cold; you were starting to shiver but you wanted to say you didn’t mind. You wanted to say, “Come upstairs?" and so you did. 

Jeonghan swallows hard at your request. He knew he should be the gentleman and say no. He should politely decline and come back another day. He shouldn’t go upstairs until the two of you know each other much better than you do now but looking at you now, Jeonghan can only nod. 

Two flights of stairs and a few seconds of fumbling with your keys out of nerves later, you stood in your living room with Jeonghan. Jackets and shoes discarded, you watched as he looked around at your life. A smile was on his handsome face as he moved to look at pictures of you with your friends and family. Hushed comments about how beautiful you are and how you looked like you had so much fun and were so loved. 

“Yeah…I’m pretty lucky, I guess. I’ve been here my entire life so I’ve always had them. I wanna know about you, though…You said you’d tell me if I asked. You said you could explain this?”

Moving back to Jeonghan, you lift his left hand, showing it to him. Though he couldn’t see the golden ribbons, they still spiraled around his hand, just like the maroon ones moved around yours. Jeonghan’s fingers flex before he sighs, furrowing his brows, leading you towards your couch to sit down. 

“Not going to run away from me or kick me out?” Laughing, he watches you shake your head no, a sweet smile on your curious face even though the nerves were eating him from the inside out. 

“Uh, ok, well, here goes. I–” 

Holding up his finger, Jeonghan leans from you to reach into his jacket, lying on the nearby armchair, to take out the book he had stored your leaf in. You watch as he opens it, offering you the leaf once again before placing the book on his leg. 

“If my mother was still alive and she knew I was showing this to someone who wasn’t a witc–well, someone who wasn’t fully… Fuck how do I even say this?” 

Turning the leaf in your fingers, you furrow your brows, hearing that Jeonghan’s mother isn’t alive, only for them to deepen when he struggles to find his words. Shaking your head, you lean to put the leaf on the table, moving to slide your legs under you so you can turn towards him, resting your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating hard and quick in his chest. 

“You do it at your pace and truthfully? I swear to you, I’m not going to run away from you or be afraid. Jeonghan, your hand is glowing gold, so if you are about to tell me magic is real, I think you are a little late. I think you are a wizard, Harry.” 

Jeonghan stares at you for a moment before starting to laugh. You watch, amused but also concerned, until he finally calms down and shakes his head. 

“Did–did you just quote Harry Potter to me?” 

You nod, and Jeonghan scoffs lightly, leaning to kiss you softly, shaking his head as he leans back, feeling his chest lighten as his heartbeat slows and the panic subsides slightly. 

“I don’t know how the fuck I got lucky enough to meet you. I certainly don’t deserve you.” You start to speak and Jeonghan shakes his head, lifting his hand to stop you. “I–please, it’s how I feel. I can explain it.” 

You didn’t agree with him. There was nothing he could do or could have done to make you agree with him. Furrowing your brows, you want to comfort him but you aren’t sure how so instead, you press your fingers against his chest and just listen. 

“Yeah, magic is real. It’s not what they have in Harry Potter. Most of that is bullshit. But I’m a warlock; I was born that way. Anyone with magic is born that way. I think you were born that way too.” 

Leaning your head back, you scoff, causing Jeonghan to lift his left hand, letting you see the gold spirling around his hand. Your brows soften and Jeonghan knows his point was taken, allowing him to continue. 

“Perhaps not to the degree of some witches but everyone has a little magic in them. All humans, just a little bit. Deja vu is magic…but you there is a little more—fuck,  maybe a lot more. We can figure that out together, okay?” 

You just nod, feeling your heart quicken at the idea of having some magical potential. You had always wanted to believe in magic. That was something that any little girl or boy would want to believe in but you had never truly let go of it and now it was staring you in the face. 

“This…” Jeonghan gestures to the book on his lap, “is my grimoire. I’ll let you look through it later. It’s really personal to each warlock and witch. We can start you one, if you want, once we figure out what’s going on with you.” 

Jeonghan glances at you once again, watching you press your lips together. He knew it was a lot of information, even if it was just basic things. He didn’t want to overwhelm you but you had asked. Flipping a couple of pages, Jeonghan sighs and taps the page, causing you to gasp lightly as some words shimmer and then fade back to normal ink. 

“Some warlocks or witches have little things about them. My mom could transfigure into her familiar form. My dad could perfect any potion that he tried on the first try. I–I can see auras.” 

Glancing down at your hand, Jeonghan slides his fingers over your hand, tracing the ribbons as you watch him. 

“Auras? Like, you know when someone is good or bad?” 

Tilting his head back and forth, Jeonghan purses his lips, trying to think of how to describe it before he looks up at you. 

“It’s more than that and it’s rare. I can’t always see them and they aren’t always that simple. I saw an aura in a warlock who visited my house when I was little. It was dark green and it scared me. I didn’t know what it meant.” 

You watch as Jeonghan looks down at his grimoire, your eyes scanning over the Latin that you don’t understand as his voice shakes slightly. 

“I should have asked my parents because I had to find out later that dark green auras mean not only greed but to the point of ill intent. That warlock cursed my parents and a few weeks later they were both gone.” 

Feeling your heart tighten with Jeonghan’s grief, you look up at his face as a soft "oh" slips from your lips. You aren’t sure what to say and Jeonghan understands by just shaking his head and whispering that it’s okay. 

“When I said that I don’t deserve you, Y/N…I mean that because there is a reason that Wonwoo was telling you to be careful around me. There is a reason I moved here. I saw my own aura.” 

Sliding your hand over Jeonghan’s left, you tighten your grip on his and he feels the warmth spread through his arm, though he doesn’t have the courage to look at you, feeling like if he tells you the truth, he will lose you. 

“I searched for that warlock until I found him and followed him for months last year. I had decided that I would do it indirectly. That’s worse, you know? Cursing someone else to kill someone.” Jeonghan swallows hard, nodding to his own words, feeling your eyes on him even if you don’t speak. 

“My aura was black in the mirror. Pitch black, and I knew that was death and it should have scared me from doing it but I did it anyway.” 

Lifting your hand from his, you turn Jeonghan’s face towards you, tears running down his cheeks. You watch him close his eyes in an attempt to hide his shame, even as you push away his tears with your thumb.  

“Jeonghan…Did you come here to start over?” 

Nodding, Jeonghan keeps his eyes closed, leaning into your palm. The brush of your fingers like the rungs of a ladder helped him climb out of the darkness of the hole that he had been in for far too long. 

“Then start over. I don’t care about what you did. I care about your past but not that. Open your eyes and look at me.” 

Slowly opening his eyes, Jeonghan meets yours, almost afraid that you will be angry with him despite your words but instead he finds you looking at him lovingly. A sigh of relief escapes between his lips and Jeonghan turns his head to press his lips to your palm, whispering, “Thank you.” 

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, the story of Jeonghan’s past lingering like a breath before the weight is gone and Jeonghan can smile seeing the ribbons on your hand once again. 

“You have an aura on your hand. I think that’s what you are seeing too, on mine.” 

It is your turn to tilt your head as Jeonghan turns to sit towards you, offering you his hands and trying to explain the ribbons. The words on his lips seem to fall short when you gasp while watching the gold of his finger extend towards your finger and a ribbon of a different color come into view on your own hand. 

“Holy shit…you can see that?” 

Jeonghan watches you nod, your mouth open in awe, as his own hand spirals with gold. You watch as your hand shimmers with maroon warmth, extending up your arm and into your chest. Moving his hand from yours, Jeonghan scoffs in disbelief as the gold ribbon from his hand extends from his finger to meet the maroon trailing from yours, tethered. 

“What does it mean?” 

Jeonghan laughs at first, shaking his head. He wanted to be able to tell you something that sounded less like a fairytale but all he had was magic. Jeonghan recalled being young and his mother telling him about soulmates and how they were incredibly rare. How some witches and warlocks were very lucky and were tethered to another witch or warlock. 

“Do you believe in soulmates?” 

Furrowing your brows, you smile at Jeonghan’s words. You wanted to laugh and shake your head, tell him no, but instead you feel it in your heart that you do believe. You believe full heartedly. You hadn’t before. You hadn’t believed in anything like that or love at first sight and now here you were staring at him. 

“Yeah…I do.”

That hadn’t been what Jeonghan had expected. Your words were welcomed but they had thrown him off. He hadn’t expected you to accept him as a warlock or to accept him past and now you were accepting him as your soulmate? You took his breath away. 

“Yeah?” 

You smile and nod as Jeonghan smiles too sliding his hand along yours, the ribbons fading into your skin. Gold and maroon meshing and becoming invisible to the naked eye. You could feel they were still there if you wanted to but right now you didn’t need to see or feel the ribbons to know Jeonghan was yours. 

“Shit–I…this is not how I thought today would go.” 

Jeonghan’s words are spoken on a breathy groan as you slide across his lap to sit across his leg. His hands working their way along your thighs towards your hips feeling your body against his for the first time. It was familiar in a way that shouldn’t make sense. 

“I trust you. I–don’t understand any of this, not really but god that’s all I know, Jeonghan. I trust you and in my heart all I know is you’re mine.” 

It was what he had known and had been afraid to let himself accept all day. You were his. He had felt bad for thinking it, feeling it but there had been a reason. You were his. You were born his. 

Groaning at the feeling of your hips sliding over his, Jeonghan leans his head back, trying to keep his cool, unsure of how quickly you want this to go despite your words, “I trust you,” echoing in his mind. 

“Baby…fuck. You’re mine, I know. If you don’t…I’m trying to be good. Let me kiss you.” 

You wanted him to kiss you but you didn’t want Jeonghan to be good. You wanted more than that and you could feel that he didn’t want that either. You knew it was fast but that didn’t matter. Sliding your hand along Jeonghan’s arm, your nails scratching at his skin, you lean down to brush your lips over his hearing and feel his hiss into your mouth before he mutters against your lips. 

“I said I’m trying to be good.” 

“And I said I trust you.” 

You had lit a fire in Jeonghan and now you were fanning it hotter with your kisses. He remembered how much he had wanted to touch your skin while standing outside of your apartment. How many layers of clothes had been in his way and now here you were sitting in his lap, his fingers pushing your shirt up your back so that his skin could finally brush over yours. It was like pure electricity connecting you to him. 

Jeonghan smirks against your lips when you moan into his mouth. His hands pull you down by your waist over his hardening erection trapped in his jeans. Your leggings were allowing you to feel every bump and ridge of his jeans and how his cock had gotten hard for you so quickly between your legs. 

“Please…please… touch me, Jeonghan.” 

His brows furrowing, his lips pursing into a silent groan, Jeonghan feels his cock twitch in his jeans when you beg him to touch you. It was beautiful, and you were beautiful. He could listen to you say that all night long. He wanted to listen to you beg for him until the sun came up and maybe even longer. 

“I am touching you. See, don't you feel my hands?" 

You whine, squirming on Jeonghan’s lap, feeling his fingers under your shirt as he trails them along your back. It wasn’t what you wanted and you knew that he knew that. The smirk in his voice told you that. Sliding your hands along his chest, you lean back to look into Jeonghan’s eyes, your voice full of want to the point where you almost sound like you could cry. 

“Touch me everywhere. Take me to bed.” 

Jeonghan had half a mind to make you beg him again but your lips brushed over his and then his cheek, causing him to lose his resolve. He laughs under his breath before nodding, feeling you slip from his lap to take his hand. The warm feeling of magic, ribbons tangling and spinning around your hands and fingers, makes Jeonghan take a moment to pause before he finally does stand, letting you lead him toward your bedroom. 

The scent of vanilla and chai overwhelms him for a moment as he watches you take a step away from him. Your pretty smile enraptures him as his eyes follow you backwards to your bed. Jeonghan breathes out your name, taking a step towards you before stopping to glance at your bedside table. Three candles are placed in a triangle, each a different color. 

“Do you want me to light them?” 

Your voice is soft and sweet, almost innocent in your question. You clearly didn’t know what they were or what you had been using them for. 

“I can, Ignis.” 

The Latin word is half whispered and half just a breath but each candle flutters to life with it, causing you to gasp with wonder. Jeonghan smiles at your reaction, moving closer to step between your legs, his fingers once again sliding to the end of your shirt but this time he drags it up your torso, urging you to lift your arms so he can pull it over your head as he speaks. 

“Why did you pick those colors? White, red, and pink?” 

Shrugging, you shake your head, biting at your bottom lip as your shirt leaves your fingertips. Jeonghan’s eyes are searching your face before he glances down at your body. His fingers glide along your shoulder as his eyes follow until he looks back into your eyes. Your back arches to the feeling of his hand running over your spine, a small laugh slipping from between your lips as his fingers make quick work of your bra clasp, causing the straps to slip from your shoulders. 

“I just like the colors. They look pretty together.” 

Jeonghan gives you a skeptical look. His fingers trailing back along your shoulder to guide your bra strap further down your arm as you let it fall from you completely. 

“God, you are so beautiful, Angel. Lay back on the bed for me?” 

You watch Jeonghan drop your bra onto the floor on top of your shirt as you scoot back onto your bed. His eyes follow you, listening to your steady breath while his hands move to his own clothes. You find yourself being jealous of his hands while also enjoying watching him undress himself. You wanted to run your hands over his skin but you also knew you’d get your chance. You knew you’d only get this chance once. Seeing him like this, undressing for you for the first time, only once.

Jeonghan runs his fingers through his hair as he drops his shirt onto the growing pile of clothes, a sigh on his lips. His eyes glance over you as you lay half naked on the bed in front of him. He wanted to get you out of your leggings and panties to be between your legs but he was going to savor this. He wanted to savor all of it, every discovery. 

“I think it’s more than you liking the colors together.”

Shaking your head, you give Jeonghan a confused look. Your fingers slide along your stomach towards your breast as his slender fingers undo his belt and jeans, pushing them door. Jeonghan smirks, his dark eyes following your fingers every move as he kicks his pants from his legs and repeats the process with his boxers. 

“White candles represent new beginnings. Like a blank canvas. Red, well, that’s an intense color and an intense candle choice, especially paired with white and pink.”

Sitting up, you whine softly, somewhere mixed between Jeonghan’s name and a moan as you see him fully. His body was perfectly sculpted, from his head to the toes. You feel your mouth all but water as your eyes shamelessly look over his cock, hard and leaking for you. While you were listening to him about your candles, you also wanted him in your bed. You wanted his mouth on you, his hands on your body, and him inside of you. 

“I know, Angel. I’m right here. Be a good girl for me…be patient.” 

Jeonghan walks beside your bed, his fingers trailing along your hand and arm as you reach out for him. A smirk on his lips as you try to hold on to him, only for him to keep just far enough away. Without asking, as if he had been in your room a hundred times, Jeonghan opens your nightstand drawer and tilts his head. You watch as he sighs softly, pushing a couple things to the side before opening a box of condoms and taking one out. 

“The red candle represents fire. It means protection, strength, and courage, but also lust and power. So it’s fitting for a bedroom. I keep one in mine as well. 

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment and desire at Jeonghan’s words. Your eyes are fixed on him as he lays the silver square on the nightstand before finally looking at you and resting his knee on the bed to hover over you. Jeonghan’s fingers glide over your stomach and his touch feels like the fire he had been talking about. It’s almost as hot as a candle to your skin but you arch towards it, begging for more as his fingers splay out, inching towards the top of your leggings. 

“Pink is an interesting choice next to red. It’s like the flip side of the coin. It’s the candle I would choose for you. It represents tenderness, compassion, and acceptance. If you were a candle, you’d be a pink candle.” 

Sucking on your lips, you let go with a small moan as Jeonghan’s fingers dip below the waistband of your leggings. He watches as you lift your hips, your head shaking slowly to his words, before you smile and push your head back into your pillows. 

“So I’m a pink candle and you are red?” 

Tilting his head, Jeonghan purses his lips, adjusting his fingers into the elastic of your panties as he tugs your leggings down. Jeonghan finally smirked once again, dropping the rest of your clothes off the side of the bed as he answered you. 

“That’s a good way of saying it. Do you still trust me?” 

Sliding his fingers along the side of your face, Jeonghan stops to rest his thumb against your cheekbone as you look up at him. He knew the answer before you even spoke, but hearing your soft "yes" made his heart beat quicker and his cock jerk against your thigh. You were so innocent and his. 

“Mm, yeah? If you ever want me to stop, I want you to say so, okay? I want to try something.” 

Jeonghan was moving away from you again, causing you to whine but he didn’t go far. You watch as he picks up your silk scarf from a chair near your bed. You hadn’t given much thought to the scarf in some time; the deep red accessory had been worn a handful of times before you had tossed it on the chair, out of sight and out of mind. 

“Hands above your head. I promise, I’ll be gentle. I just want to see…just how much you trust me. Is that bad of me?” 

He watches as you shake your head, your arms lifting so that you can cross your wrists above your head. Jeonghan’s breath hitches as your fingers wrap around the wrought iron headboard slot. The cold iron under your fingers causes your skin to erupt with goosebumps as you watch the man in front of you curiously. 

“It’s not bad. I said I trusted you. I know you won’t hurt me.” 

Shaking his head, Jeonghan smiles a bit at your words, moving to his knee on the mattress next to you. You were right; he’d never hurt you. Not in any way you wouldn’t enjoy it, and certainly not in a way you wouldn’t like it if he could help it. 

“This is why you are the pink candle. So tender and trusting. You have your white light around you and yet... you choose a maroon scarf and your arua is the same color? What’s hiding inside of you, my angel?” 

Jeonghan’s fingers glide over your skin as he loops the silk around your wrists and finally around the slot between the headboard, loosely tying you to the bed. You were a vision to behold like this, laid out bare and vulnerable for him. So perfectly innocent, yet as he met your eyes, a small smirk played at your lips. 

“Oh? Is there something I am going to like when I go looking? Something you might not be able to keep hidden once I’m between your legs?” 

With his hand trailing along your side, Jeonghan slowly moves backwards on the bed towards your feet but he keeps his eyes on your face. He didn’t expect an answer but he didn’t need one. The way your breath hitched when his fingers traced over your hip and grazed just shy of your pussy answered the question just as well as anything you could have said out loud. 

“Spread your legs for me…” 

Closing your eyes, you feel a rush of embarrassment wash over you at Jeonghan’s words. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him between your legs or that you wouldn’t do as he asked; it was that he wanted you to do it for him. He wanted to see you; all of you lay bare in front of him and you could feel how wet you were. You could feel it running between your legs and on to the comforter beneath you, almost as if someone had left a faucet dripping overnight. 

“Baby…spread your legs. I won’t force them open. Not tonight, not this time.” 

Jeonghan slides his hands along your shins to your knees, watching you consider his words before you let out a slow breath and let your legs fall open in front of him. His eyes drift down your body and fall to either side of him as he moves to kneel between your thighs with a groan. 

The candlelight was just enough light for Jeonghan to see how wet you were and he couldn’t help himself. Leaning forward, Jeonghan mutters how beautiful you are as he brushes his fingers between your folds, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. Using what had dripped on his fingers, Jeonghan rubbed his fingers and thumb together before pressing his thumb against your clit, his middle finger sliding back towards your already throbbing entrance. 

“This okay?” 

He didn’t have to ask. Once again he knew the answer from the way your body was reacting and the moan that spliled from between your pretty lips but he wanted to hear it this time. It was important. It was the first time and it was going so fast. 

Pulling at the headboard, the scarf bites into your wrist gently as you feel Jeonghan’s middle finger circle your pussy when he asks for permission. Nodding you whine out yes pushing your hips towards his finger in order to get what you want. You wanted more than just his fingers. You wanted Jeonghan’s mouth, his fingers, his cock. If it were possible to have it all at the same time, maybe then you’d be satisfied. 

“More…I can take more. Don’t be so gentle.” 

Jeonghan smiles against your knee as he leans to rest his cheek against your leg. His finger is slowly working into you as your walls clench around his single finger. You were greedy. There was the red candle. There was how you were like him. 

“You want me to leave marks on you? Remind you who was in your bed when I finally go home? Is that it, Angel?” 

Working a second finger into your gummy walls, Jeonghan groans, hearing your whines as you nod and beg him for more. He had never felt like this with anyone else in bed or in a relationship. There had been others in the past. The sex had been intense but there was never this much passion or this much territorial instinct. 

He wouldn’t fool himself into thinking he was the first person you had ever been with. He wouldn’t even ask you. Instead, he would fuck you so hard and good that you’d forget their names. He would erase them from your memories so that even if he did ask one day, you’d only be able to say, “I think there was someone…” 

Arching your back from the bed as Jeonghan’s third finger slides into you, you cry out in pleasure. His mouth latching onto your thigh hard, somewhere between a bite and a kiss. You can feel the way your skin is going to bruise under his mouth and yet you want spots like that one to paint your entire body like a map that you can revisit in the morning. 

“So–I’m so close. Don’t stop…” 

Your words cause Jeonghan to smirk against your leg. His tongue runs the length between the love bite and your mound before he replaces his thumb with his tongue. Your mind was hazy with bliss. You were right on the edge when….nothing. Jeonghan kisses your folds but his fingers slide from you, leaving your thighs trembling—your first orgasm taken from you. 

“No…no no no… why?” 

A quiet laugh and warm breath fanning against your wet folds draw your eyes downward, though you aren’t able to lift your body enough as you strain against silk and iron. Jeonghan lifts his brow at you, his fingers lazily playing with his spit and the wetness dripping from your wanting pussy as you whine at him confused. 

“You beg so beautifully. Nothing worth having was given so easily. Try again, Y/N.” 

Throwing your head back against the pillow you close your eyes feeling Jeonghan’s fingers slipping back into you slowly, one by one. The pressure slowly beginning to build once again. He wanted you to beg? You could beg for something you wanted, especially when it was him. When it was this. 

Jeonghan groans to the taste of you, his tongue running along your folds to his fingers before he finally wraps his lips around your clit sucking lightly. You were panting his name and begging under your breath but it wasn’t enough just yet. He could get you to do more. With a curl of his finger, brushing the spongy spot on the roof of your walls, Jeonghan smirks, his tongue resting against the throbbing bundle of nerves at his mouth as you cry out his name loudly. 

“Oh fuck! Jeonghan! Please? I need it. Please? Please, can I cum? Let me cum for you. I’ve been good. I can be better. I–ah! Please!” 

Your words were urgent. Tears fell over the rims of your eyes from feeling overwhelmed and the pleasure that ripped through your body as Jeonghan finally gave you what you wanted Groaning against your pussy, he buries his fingers in you deeply over and over again until finally the floodgates keeping your orgasm back break. 

Jeonghan’s warm, soft, wet tongue runs to your entrance, collecting your cum on his tongue as he moans in appreciation. His hands slide under your body to pull you closer to his face as he eats you out as if you were his last meal. Alternating between his tongue and his lips, Jeonghan takes his time to clean you of every last drop of cum as your thighs tremble around his head, your muscles screaming from overstimulation by the time he is finished. 

Moving between your legs, Jeonghan smiles, reaching up to wipe his hand along his mouth and chin as you look up at him with lustful eyes. There was what he had been searching for. That look in your eyes. 

Reaching towards the nightstand, Jeonghan swipes the condom from it, bringing the corner of the silver square to his lips as you watch him catch your breath. Carefully, he rips the foil open as if he’s done it a hundred times, making you roll your eyes playfully. Jeonghan grins, the latex in hand, his eyes moving from yours only for a moment as he reaches between your body and his to roll the condom onto his length as he speaks into a groan. 

“What? Was that too cheesy?” 

“You reminded me of a college fuckboy, but I think I might love you anyway.” 

Your words stop Jeonghan from moving and cause his breath to hitch in his throat. He had hinted at it earlier in the park. The leaf had fallen within his reach and you had mentioned the story about catching them and falling in love…But what if you were already in love with who you were walking with? 

Lifting his eyes to meet yours, Jeonghan finds you looking away. You had clearly realized what you had said and you were trying to hide your face without the use of your hands. Your fingers were straining against the silk that kept you bound to the bed but he didn’t need you bound to the bed anymore. 

Using his right hand, Jeonghan quickly unties the scarf, letting you pull your hands from the headboard but he is quick to catch them before you can cover your face. You watch as he shakes his head, lifting your left hand to his lips to press a kiss to your fingers as he does. 

No, he didn’t need you bound in anyway, except to him, which you already were. The maroon ribbons of magic swirling around your fingers again caused a glow against his lips as he let them rest there but you could see how the fibers of the ribbon trailed off and down to the bed where his left hand rested next to your body. 

“You think you love me?” 

Swallowing hard, you feel your heart beating hard and fast in your chest. You knew that Jeonghan could feel it against his own skin as he lay on top of you. There was no point or reason for you to lie, so you nod. 

“Yes.” 

Jeonghan smiles, pressing another kiss to your fingers. His hand slides along your arm until he lets go of it completely, instead of trailing his hand along your leg to your knee. Pulling it up to his hip, Jeonghan groans, leaning down to brush his lips against yours as he rolls his hips towards yours. Your soft moan fans hot breath against his mouth when you feel his cock press against your folds but not quite hard enough to push into you just yet. 

“I think I knew that I loved you the moment I caught that maple leaf. You were and are so beautiful. You were smiling up at the sky and the stupid trees and I was jealous of them. Then you were telling me about this fairytale..." 

Whispering Jeonghan’s name, you start to tell him that you love him again but fall short when the head of his cock finally gets the perfect angle and he is able to slowly thrust into you. Jeonghan closes his eyes, his fingers digging into your skin at your hip, feeling your warm walls clenching around him with each slow inch that you take inside of you. 

“Fuck…baby. You feel so good. I–god…You were telling me about falling in love and leaves and I was falling in love with you. I fell in love with you because we were born for one another. You were born to be mine. No one elses.” 

And he would never let anyone else have you. Not now, not ever, Jeonghan thought to himself as he bottomed out into you for the first time. Your hand sliding along his waist to rest on his back, pulling him closer to you as you gasped out a moan, feeling full of him. 

While Jeonghan’s words and the magic of it all didn’t make complete sense, what did was the feeling that he was describing. You knew it too. You knew it the moment he walked away the first time at the cafe. That man was yours. This man…is yours. 

Scratching at his skin lightly, you nod and mutter his name on a moan before throwing your head back, feeling pleasure rush through you when Jeonghan starts to pick up his pace and deepen his thrusts. He was beginning to learn about you. He could feel it now, every time your pussy would tighten around his cock if he moved just the right way. So he would move that way again and then purposely make you wait before he would do it all over again, just so he could listen to you cry his name against his lips. 

“Are you gonna cum for me again?”

Nodding, you wrap your hand around the back of Jeonghan’s neck, trying to keep his mouth near yours but he laughs at your instance. There was your greed that he loved so much. He wasn’t leaving you. He would kiss you every day for the rest of your shared life together but right now…he wanted to watch you fall apart on his cock for the first time. 

“Angel, I love how you cry for me like this. Is it that good? You like my cock that much?” 

His words were making you feel shy but still, you nodded and whined out a yes as tears ran down your cheeks. The pressure of your orgasm building in your abdomen as Jeonghan reaches between your legs to circle his thumb around your clit only causes your thighs to tremble even harder. 

“Ah…Jeonghan! Please…” 

The last of your words are whispered, almost tearfully between a moan and a sob, as you try to keep your orgasm at bay, though it hurts to try. Jeonghan hisses back his own groan. His climax is on the edge, barreling behind yours as he tightens his grip on your thighs, thrusting into you harder and pushing your head towards the headboard with each powerful thrust. 

“Cum baby. Do it… I’m not going—fuck, I’m right behind you.” 

Your hands clench on the bedding under you as you tightly close your eyes, seeing white the moment your orgasm washes over you for the second time. The intensity of pleasure is so intense for you and Jeonghan as you clench around him like a vice that any attempts he has at holding himself back are futile. 

Jeonghan groans, feeling warm, thick cum spill into the condom with one final thrust before he falls over you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You are grateful for the weight of his body as you come down from your high. Your legs slowly stop shaking as Jeonghan’s hand runs along the length of your outer thigh. His lips work soft, tender kisses along the span of your neck before he makes it to your lips, catching his breath on the way. 

Smiling against your lips, Jeonghan knows he has pulled you. He knows he has to take care of the condom and that he needs to get you cleaned up but when you smile back against his lips he can’t make himself move just yet. Instead, he runs his fingers from the side of your face and neck to the back of your head, pulling you closer to his mouth. The kiss never rushed, feeling like it took your breath away while also giving you all you would ever need to survive, up until the moment Jeonghan finally pulled back to whisper against your lips. 

“I love you.” 

You had a feeling he would say the words. The two of you had been playing around with the words the entire time. You knew how fast it was. You knew how crazy it was but how crazy could it be when there was something bigger than both of you telling you it was meant to be? 

For your entire life, there had only been a handful of people you had ever spoken those three words too and meant them completely. Now you knew that as you said them to Jeonghan, you meant them for the rest of your life. 

“I love you too.” 

Closing his eyes for a moment, Jeonghan takes in the feeling of hearing the words on your lips. His fingers slide along the back of your head and over your hair before he kisses you once more and pulls from you at last. You watch with fond curiosity as he takes care of himself, disposing of the condom, cleaning up the wrapper, and moving towards your bedroom door, searching for something. 

“What are you looking for?” 

Sighing into a yawn, Jeonghan stretches his left arm above his head to feel the muscles in his back extend, knowing all the while that your eyes were taking in every inch of his skin. He had no reason to feel shy or embarrassed after what had happened. In fact, he was loving every moment of your eyes on his bare skin; he was taking pride in your enjoyment of him. 

“Your bathroom. I wanted to start a bath or shower for us. Something…” 

Sliding up in the bed, you smile, pulling your legs up towards your chest as you watch Jeonghan as he finally turns back to look at you. There was still so much to learn about one another but you knew there were many hours left in the night and many years left for the rest of your life. 

“Next door on the right. I’d prefer a bath.” 

Nodding, Jeonghan glances towards the door you mentioned before looking back at you fondly. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his entire life at that moment. The moonlight shining on you from the window, the candle light in the reflection of your eyes, and that maroon arua around your hand that signified you were his. 

“Then a bath is what you get, Angel.” 

You follow Jeonghan for as long as you can with your eyes until he is out of your view. Just the sounds of water filling the tub and his humming as you lean back on your bed, lifting your hand to look at the magic swirling around your hand. All that maroon and a spot of gold at the tip of your left finger to let you know he was bound to you. 

“This is crazy.”

You laugh at your own hushed words, lifting your other hand to run it over your fingers. You don’t notice as Jeonghan comes back into the room, leaning against the doorframe for a moment to watch you. 

“No, it’s just a little magic, baby.”

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed

[daechwitatamic]

1. Asterism || KSJ

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: Amalthea (Masterpost) - Part 1: Asterism

Rating: NSFW - minors go away i mean it Genre: best friend's older brother!au, angst smut fluff trifecta Pairing: Seokjin x female reader Beta team: @yoongiphoria, @here2bbtstrash, @kookstempo

Summary: You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

Warnings: language, drinking, angst, kissing, fingering, explicit protected s*x WC: 9.5k

Part 1: Asterism Asterism: (noun) a recognizable pattern of stars that does not make up the full constellation

Things start when your mother texts you asking for a favor.

To be more historically accurate, things started when you were a child. But for the sake of brevity, for a tighter focus on the now, it starts with this text -

[5:41 PM] Mom: can you do me a big favor?

When you send her back “sure”, she calls you, which you expected all along. You’re surprised she texted first at all, instead of going straight to the phone call. She’s a creature of habit, your mother. 

“I cooked a few dishes and stuck them in the fridge,” she tells you. Pacing across your own kitchen, a fifteen minute drive from her place, you squint as you pass through the one exact spot where the afternoon sunlight assaults you from the window every day around this time. You’ve lived here for years - you’ve just been too lazy to put curtains up in this room. Your mother continues, her voice coming through your phone so loudly that you can hold it like it’s on speaker (although it’s not) and still hear her loud and clear. “You’ll see them, they’re in the tupperware with blue lids? Can you bring them over to the Kims’?”

“What?” you say - not because you didn’t understand the directions, but because you didn’t understand the why. She starts to repeat herself but you cut her off, clarifying, “Why are you making food for the Kims?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” she asks. “Or at least Minji? Mr. Kim had his knee replacement today.”

You call Minji from the car, but she doesn’t answer. You’ve been best friends since kindergarten; her dad’s house is just across the street from the one you’d grown up in, where your parents still live. You kids have all grown up, and away - you, Minji, and her two brothers - but Mr. Kim still lives in that same house, the light blue one that you can see from your childhood bedroom window. 

You still live close, and Minji’s just a few towns over. Her brothers moved far - requiring planes and trains to get back. You see Minji at least monthly, if not more often - usually you meet for brunch at a place between your houses. Sometimes, though, you meet back home home - for holidays, usually. The last time you were at her dad’s house with her was for the winter holidays two years ago; you’d rung in the New Year on her back deck. 

You try not to think about that night. 

You let yourself into your parents’ empty house with the code and head straight for the kitchen. As promised, there’s a small stack of blue-lidded containers, and you load them into a reusable grocery bag you steal from the cabinet beneath the sink. You lock the house back up and head across the street on foot. 

Once upon a time - for most of your life, really - you would have just let yourself in. You and Minji grew up in each other’s homes. This was your second home, her dad your second father. It had been like that your whole life. But once you and Minji went away to college, things changed - just slightly. Part of it’s just becoming an adult. You don’t barge in anymore, you knock. 

You expect Minji, or maybe one of her aunts if they’ve come to help, to answer the door. Instead, it swings open to reveal her older brother, Seokjin - full lips frowning slightly, strong brow furrowed as he tries to piece together why you’re standing on his father’s doorstep holding a grocery bag. 

The moment stretches, stills. It can go one of two ways - you can let it be awkward, or you can be sure that it isn’t.

“Hi,” you say, hoping it sounds breezy. “My mom cooked some dishes for you.”

Seokjin takes a minute step backwards, lips parting to speak, but then you hear your name squealed from over his shoulder and you brace yourself for impact. 

Jin acts fast, grabbing the bag of food from you and flattening himself against his open front door as Minji launches herself past him to hug you, laughing.

“I called you on my way over!” you scold her, smiling, hugging her tightly back. 

“Sorry!” she says, still holding you, still laughing. Jin’s still holding your food, just to the side of you, watching this display with a blank face. “I was helping my dad lay down. I left my phone in the kitchen, I think? You should see his knee, it’s disgusting. Is that food?”

She releases you and turns, heading through the house towards their roomy kitchen. You know you’re expected to follow. You reach to take the food back from Jin, shooting him a thankful smile. Your fingers brush as you take the bag, and you drop your gaze, hurrying to follow the sound of Minji’s voice as it floats through the house. Seokjin stands in place as you leave, and you hope he doesn’t see you shudder against goosebumps as you hurry away.

He’s had that effect on you since you were fourteen years old.

But that’s ancient history.

There’s a lot you want to ask him, starting with how long he’ll be in town, ending with… well. Not now. 

In the kitchen, Minji is trying to make room in the fridge for everything your mom sent over. You sit at the table, watching her absently, answering whenever her chatter pauses to ask you something. 

Jin joins you two wordlessly. He reaches over Minji’s head and then turns and holds out a beer bottle, offering it to you.

“Ooh, yes please,” you say, taking it from him. Minji looks up to see what you’re talking about and then nudges Jin’s shin - which is next to her head - to indicate that she wants one too. He sits across the table from you and sets a beer for Minji at the seat to his right. When she’s done in the fridge, she sits heavily next to her brother and they both look at you as they drink.

“So,” you say, because you have to say something about now, have to keep yourself from getting swept up in twenty-something years of memories that this house holds for you. “How’d the surgery go?”

“Great!” Minji beams. “The surgeons said it was exactly as expected. He’ll start physical therapy next week.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” you tell her genuinely. Mr. Kim was always important to you. You turn your attention to Jin, who’s downed half of his beer already. “Are you staying long?”

He nods, swallows, then answers. “A few weeks, probably,” he tells you. “I got approval to work remotely through the end of the month. Hopefully by then he’ll be back to a point where he doesn’t need someone here 24/7, and Minji can just pop in on him…” 

He trails off, his eyes going over your shoulder, watching a few birds hop from the bird feeder to the deck railing. The deck railing where you’d hung wet bathing suits to dry on never-ending summer afternoons, where you’d placed soda cans with rivulets of condensation running down their sides, where you’d leaned with Minji as you talked about boys and school and boys again, where you’d buried your hands in Seokjin’s hair as he’d - nope. 

Not going there. Not unless you want to drown.

“Do you want to eat dinner with us?” Minji asks, throwing you a life preserver by dragging you back to the present. 

“Ah,” you say, letting your regretful tone do the answering for you. “I’d like to, but… I should get home.”

I should get out of this house, you think. I should get away from your brother. 

She grins at you slyly. “Got that man to feed?”

You laugh in surprise. Seokjin is suddenly very interested in the label on the beer he’s almost finished. 

“No,” you say. “He’s out of the picture.”

Minji narrows her eyes at you, assessing. “We don’t seem sad,” she observes finally. 

You shake your head. “We aren’t sad,” you confirm. Jin gets up wordlessly and opens the fridge again, reaching for a second beer. His shoulders take up almost the whole space. You try not to notice, try not to think about the muscles of those shoulders rippling under your fingertips - enough. Enough, now.

You stand, needing the escape, needing to get away, draining the rest of your beer in one long drag that would make your college-self proud.

“Listen,” you say to the room at large, to both of them, after placing the empty bottle back on the table, “call me if you need help, okay? My place isn’t far. I can pop over if you need an extra pair of hands, or a break, or some errands handled. Okay?”

Seokjin’s still hiding in the refrigerator, taking a million years to choose between two of the same beer. Minji, oblivious, takes your hand gratefully.

“Thank you,” she says warmly, giving you a squeeze. 

You start to head back towards the front door, Minji still clutching your hand. 

“Bye, Seokjin,” you say over your shoulder.

He glances up at you around the open refrigerator door.

“See you,” he says. There’s something hollow in his voice. 

You get it, though. 

The last time the three of you were here together, two years ago, he’d welcomed in the New Year buried inside you against the back of their house, gasping your name against the inky dark of the frigid December night.

You’ve never told a soul, and you don’t think he has, either.

You’ve never talked about it at all.

You and Minji spent New Year's Eve out at bars and clubs together almost every year. The year you were twenty-six, though, something had changed. Suddenly, the idea of vying for bar space, in heels, for overpriced drinks and sleazy dudes seemed abysmal. 

“We could stay in,” Minji had suggested. “Pretend we’re sixteen, sneaking booze into dad’s basement again? Seokjin is back in town for the week because he dumped that shitty girlfriend of his for the sixth time, might be kind of fun to all hang out.”

You’d pretended to dislike the idea, grimacing a little as you thought it over. Your brain snagged on dumped his shitty girlfriend. 

“Come on,” she’d said cajolingly. “We can put on 90’s music and play card games, like we used to.”

You knew the whole time that you’d go; all you needed to know was that Seokjin would be there. Since he’d left for college, he only came home twice a year - Christmas holidays, and over summer breaks. Since he'd moved far, even those weren't promised.

Minji ended up with a small crowd - a few that you were friends with in high school, but most of them you thought were friends of her brothers. 

You’d spent most of the night trying to avoid staring at Jin - or at least avoid getting caught staring. It had been about two years since you’d seen him last - four years since he moved away. He was twenty-eight to your twenty-six that year, and you weren’t sure if it was the way he was aging or if it was the tequila, but he seemed - somehow - even more handsome than you remembered. 

It had gotten more and more difficult as the night went on to focus - on conversations, on card games, on how to balance as you walked; your brain wanted to spend its energy cataloging the quirk of his full lips when you said something funny, his windshield-wiper laugh when Minji dropped a whole tray of lemon slices she’d spent twenty minutes cutting, the strip of bare skin his shirt revealed when he bent down to help her pick them up. It was like your brain was trying to soak up every little detail of him that it could after so many years of distance, of him being somebody you used to be close to.

Eventually, you’d retreated to the back deck, alone, just minutes before midnight. Outside, the noise of the party fell away, and you took in deep gulps of cold air, your hands gripping the splintery wood of the railing. 

When the door opened behind you, you expected Minji. Instead, Seokjin stood there, staring at you like he’d asked you a question and was waiting for an answer. 

Maybe, in his own way, he had. Maybe it had been all the quick glances he’d given you that night. Maybe it had been the way he’d stuck close, listening when you talked, smiling wryly when you cracked jokes. Maybe it had been the way his eyes had followed you from room to room, the way his fingers had tightened around his glass when you bent down to grab one of the wayward lemon slices.

You’d stared back at him, unsure what the right move was. This was Minji’s brother, and you’d promised her almost fifteen years ago to never get tangled up with her family. This was Minji’s brother, who had bought you girls beer before you were old enough, who had once driven to pick you up from the mall on a rainy day when your date had gone badly. This was Minji’s brother who’d once held your hand in the backseat of your dad’s car as you sobbed over a broken wrist, who’d often let you sit and watch him play video games even after he’d told Minji to bug off and leave him alone.

This was Seokjin, who was staring at you so intently that for a moment you weren’t sure if he hadn’t asked you something.

“Seokjin?”

His eyes met yours.

“Explain to me how you got even more beautiful?” he’d murmured, and your heart had leapt into your throat.

“I - what?”

He was close enough to touch. You’d dreamed of this for so long - pathetically long, really. You’d never dreamed that he’d want you.

He stepped closer, and you did touch him - one hand acted without permission, coming up and resting lightly on his chest, over his heart. It had thumped beneath your tentative fingers. 

Your fingers had curled in the material of the thick hoodie he’d been wearing, had pulled him just closer.

And then his mouth was on yours, searing, and your hands were in his hair, and that deck railing was pressing into your lower back as he pinned you against it, and one of his hands was creeping beneath the hem of your shirt, and you could feel him hardening against your lower stomach, and -

And through the window, you could see the party carrying on.

You broke the kiss, pushed gently on his forearm to extract his sneaky hand from inside your shirt.

“They can see us,” you’d gasped, and he’d followed your gaze somewhat dumbly, like it hadn’t occurred to him that everyone else existed in the same place as the two of you.

Then he’d taken your hand, pulling you down the deck steps, away from the glow of light from the house’s windows, down into the darkness, where witnesses would have to work a little harder to see what was going on.

He’d pressed you against the wall of the house, beneath the deck, and as you’d tipped your head back to allow him access to nip and soothe lines up and down your neck you’d thought of all the summer nights you’d spent in this exact spot. This is where the keg usually goes, you’d thought absently as that sneaky hand returned to the bare skin of your belly beneath your sweater.

You hadn’t felt even remotely cold, despite the threat of snow in the air. 

You’d kissed until your lips hurt and you wanted it to hurt just a little more, your hands starting to toy with the waistband of his jeans as his thumb rubbed determined circles around your puckered nipple beneath the fabric of your bra. 

“Tell me what you want,” he’d said, the words mumbled against your lips. He’d pulled back just enough, just enough to watch your face as you told him -

“Anything. Everything. All of it… all of you.”

His hand had traveled up the back of your thigh, beneath your skirt, fingers pushing the cotton of your panties aside before stroking through your center. You’d moaned, low, aware that anyone could come out onto the deck above you without warning. His breath had hitched in response, and his hand had left your pussy long enough to tug you to him again, pressing you against his hips for just a second before returning. This time he didn’t toy with you, pressing his index finger into your messy heat, followed quickly by a second digit.

You’d mouthed his name against his jaw, trying to keep yourself upright as he pressed you against the brick of the house, as he pumped his fingers leisurely, fingertips rubbing circles against your front wall until he found the place that made you gasp and buck against his hand. He’d laughed, asked, “Yeah?” in a cocky voice you’d never heard on him before. It’d made you, impossibly, wetter. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” you’d whispered, half delirious, and he’d laughed again, like he knew already.

There had been a flash of foil between his teeth, the sound of his zipper echoing across the frozen backyard, and then he was pushing inside you, fingers still wet from you now gripping your hip to keep you in place. 

You’d groaned in unison as he slowly bottomed out. The brick had bit at your back, the winter air had bit at your face, and Seokjin had bit at your lower lip as he pounded into you steadily. 

It had been hurried. It had been hushed. 

Your name on his lips when he came took the air from your lungs.

You’d wanted this, wanted him, in silence for as long as you could remember. Before you had words to put to it, before you were old enough to understand why your stomach hurt when he left the room. 

It had hurt, after. The scrapes from the brick wall. Your sore hamstrings. Your chapped, cracking lips. 

His silence.

You’d both missed the countdown. Happy New Year.

You don’t know what you had expected after seeing Seokjin at his dad’s house unexpectedly. Apparently, some foolish part of your subconscious thought he’d reach out to you, because you find yourself disappointed when he doesn’t.

Stupid, you think. I don’t know what you were thinking. Aside from that one slip on New Year’s Eve two years ago, you’d done a stellar job at orbiting Seokjin in silence, keeping your feelings under control and out of sight, never pushing yourself into his path but never letting him stray so far as to forget you, either. Nothing’s changed. 

You tell yourself this for two days, until Minji’s name lights up your phone as you’re packing up from work on Thursday evening, your stomach growling and your feet aching to get out of their heels. 

“Yeeees?” you answer her as you power down your laptop and cast your gaze around your cubicle for anything else that needs to come home with you.

“Are you still at work?” she asks, sounding a little breathless, a little irritated.

“Packing up right now,” you tell her, rising and pulling your bag onto your shoulder. You give Dale, your cubicle-mate, a silent wave goodbye and head for the elevators. “What’s up?”

“I tried your mom first, but your parents are apparently out to dinner tonight,” she says. “Is there any way you can swing by my dad’s? I think Seokjin is having a hard time with dad, and I’m stuck here at least another two hours -.”

“No problem,” you tell her, cutting off her explanation. It isn’t needed. “I’ll head there now. Tell him I’ll be like…” You glance at your watch for the time, “...twenty-five minutes, tops, if traffic is bad.”

“You’re a saint,” she breathes in relief. “Thank you. Seriously, thank you. I’ll get there as soon as I can. I promise I’ll hurry. Did I tell you that deal with Mr. Lee fell through? I have been non-stop -”

“Don’t worry about it,” you tell her, meaning it. “I’m happy to help. I’ll be there soon. See you later, okay?”

You grew up on a dead end. You never tell people that, now. You always fancy it up if it’s brought up in conversation - you call it a cul-de-sac, though it isn’t according to the yellow sign that marks where you turn left to reach your parents’ house. 

Every inch of this street is steeped in memories for you - memories of growing up with Minji and Seokjin, running wild through these streets whenever the weather allowed it, learning to ride a bike, having snowball fights and water balloon fights and - once - even a foodfight. Thinking of your childhood with those two, you think mostly of chaos and laughter. 

You miss it, a little, and that’s only a little bit nostalgia talking. Maybe the lack of chaos is nice, but the lack of laughter kind of sucks. 

It takes Seokjin forever to answer the door when you knock. When he does, it’s evident immediately why Minji had called for backup. 

He’s sick as a dog; his nose is red, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy and sleepy. 

“Minji sent me,” you explain. “She said you need help with your dad.”

“I don’t,” he protests, just a little whiny. “We’re fine. Why’d she call you? I told her we were fine.”

This clear untruth is punctuated by a fit of coughing. You purse your lips and raise an eyebrow, waiting. 

He shakes his head, recovering. “It’s just a cold,” he says, doubling down. “I’m sorry you drove all the way here, but I don’t need help. I was just about to help Dad get showered - I need to get back up there, he’s waiting.”

He starts to turn to go, but you reach out, catching his sleeve. He turns, brows furrowing in frustration, but you cut him off.

“Jin,” you say seriously, “come on. I came here to help. What needs to be done? Do you want me to start heating up dinner while he showers?”

He sags back against the wall behind him, raising one hand to rub wearily over his brow, his eyes, down over his mouth. You let his sleeve slip between your fingers and you wait as his resolve cracks. 

He sighs heavily, eyeing the ceiling. “Could you strip his bed and put on clean blankets? So when he’s done showering, I can put him back in a clean bed?”

“Absolutely,” you say, relieved that he’s delegated a task. He leads you upstairs silently. Your feet remember the way to Mr. Kim’s bedroom. You weren’t often allowed to play in there as kids, but you have to pass it to get to Minji’s room; you think you could walk the path in your sleep.

Halfway up the stairs, you pause, stopping by one of the dozens of framed photos on the wall. You smile, putting your finger on the glass. 

At the top of the stairs Seokjin pauses, turns to see why you stopped. Something on his face softens when he sees. 

“Yeah,” he says. “That one’s still up.”

You give him a small smile. The photo your finger rests on is a group shot with blue water meeting blue sky as the backdrop. 

Mr. Kim stands in the middle, beaming, one arm around Minji and the other around Seokjin. Minji’s little brother Jungkook - only a year behind you girls in school - sits on the ground at Seokjin’s feet, grinning with a scrunched nose. You’re behind Minji, peeking around her shoulders, your eyes closed as you laugh. You’re all kids in the picture - Seokjin, as the oldest, is probably around ten. 

You’d been shy to be included in the picture, but Mr. Kim had told you that you were one of his kids in spirit if nothing else. You’d all been at the lake that day. Seokjin had been the one who made you and Jungkook laugh as the camera snapped. You remember it like it was yesterday. After the picture had been taken, you girls and Seokjin had dug a hole in the sand and buried Jungkook up to his neck. You’d splashed in the water, squealing over the slimy rocks that lined the lake’s floor. Later, you’d all eaten thick slices of watermelon, the juice dripping on your bare legs as the summer sun set over the horizon, the four of you sitting in a row on the picnic table bench like a matched set. You’d chased fireflies until Mr. Kim called your names, ready to pack you all into the car to return home, smelling like sunscreen and lakewater. 

It was one of your favorite memories, that whole day. 

You strip the blankets and sheets from Mr. Kim’s bed and toss them in the hamper. You collect a clean set from the linen closet in the hallway without needing to be told where they are. You spent as much time in this house as your own growing up. In the ensuite, you can hear the shower running, the low murmur of both men’s voices as they chat. You make the bed, fluffing the comforter, and then take the hamper down to the basement, where you dump them into the washer and get it started. 

When you head back upstairs, Seokjin is in the living room, slumped sideways on the couch, eyes closed. You’re not sure if he’s awake, if he knows you’re standing behind him. He has that hand pressed to his brow again, and you know a headache when you see it. 

You pad quietly up the stairs and into the hallway bathroom, where Mr. Kim used to keep all the over-the-counter stuff - bandaids, pain-killers, lozenges, even tampons back when Minji still lived here. 

Heading back downstairs, you grab a glass of water from the kitchen and find Seokjin exactly where you left him, pressing his face pitifully into the arm of the couch.

You nudge him gently, and hold out your offerings - fever reducer and the water. 

He grumbles as he takes them, pushing himself to a more upright position so he can drink from the glass without spilling.

When he sets the glass down, he looks over at you somewhat warily. “How have you been?” he asks, and there’s something resigned in his voice. Something defeated. You wonder what battle he’s lost, to make him sound like that. You feel - have always felt - that so much of what goes on in Jin’s mind is kept behind the curtain. For someone so loud, he’s the most private person you know.

“I’ve been fine,” you shrug. “Normal.”

He looks sideways at you for a long moment. “Is that a lie?” he asks finally, voice low. 

“No,” you say, trying to keep your voice light. It isn’t, right? You’ve been fine. What happened between you was two entire years ago, the lid closing tightly on a lifetime of maybes. You’d had your moment together and it hadn’t led to anything. What choice did you have, but to accept it and move on? So, there you have it. You’ve been fine.

You make the decision, right there, not to bring it up - what happened two years ago. His lips on yours, his body under your hands, the way your legs had trembled as they’d struggled to hold you up. Better to let it stay dead. If Seokjin had wanted to talk about it, he’s had two years and four months to do so. If he wants to pretend he didn’t fuck his sister’s best friend and then ghost her completely, who are you to mess with the plan? 

You need something sweet; you’re far too bitter.

But honestly, you can’t even hate him for it. He hadn’t promised you a thing, so logically there’s no reason to feel like a toy played with and discarded - even if you’re left wishing he had never picked you up to play with at all.

You look him over, taking in the sheen of sweat on his brow, the haze you can still see in his eyes. “You look like shit,” you tell him.

He lets out a single puff of a laugh, his eyes closed. “Now I know you’re lying,” he says, lips quirking into a smile. 

“You look like you have the flu,” you say flatly, ignoring his nonsense. 

“It’s just a cold,” he says.

You lapse into silence. He keeps his eyes closed, that hand still resting on his head. Finally, you say, “How about you? How’ve you been?”

He shrugs. “Been fine. Working. You know.”

A tiny smile tugs on your lips. “What are we playing these days?”

The smile creeps sideways across his face and he opens his eyes to actually look at you, sending you a conspiratory smirk. “Now you’re asking the right questions,” he says, and starts to tell you about a console game he got last week. 

You head to the basement when it’s time and move the sheets you were washing into the dryer. You pause in the doorway when you return upstairs, looking Seokjin over from afar. He looks better than he had when you’d arrived - eyes less glassy, cheeks less pink. 

“I think your fever’s down,” you say, as you return to where you’d been sitting before.

“I feel better than I did,” he agrees. He looks at you appraisingly, like he’s seeing you clearly for the first time. And, considering the fever, maybe he is. “So Minji said you live pretty close?”

You nod. “Not far. That apartment complex over behind the plaza with the grocery store? You remember, the one that we used to go trick-or-treating at?”

“Wow,” he says, giving an appreciative whistle. “Those are swanky.”

“I’m swanky these days,” you joke, smiling. 

Just then, there’s a soft beep from outside - someone locking their car.

“That’s Minji,” Seokjin observes, and you find yourself standing, feet carrying you towards the kitchen. 

“Do you need anything to drink?” you call over your shoulder. Jin is watching your sudden departure, clearly bemused. You busy yourself in their fridge, even though you don’t have a real reason to. You just didn’t want Minji to enter the house and find you and Jin having domestic hours on the living room couch.

The front door opens, and Minji calls your name through the house.

“I’m in here!” you call back, and head for the doorway of the kitchen. 

Minji hurries to you, setting her bags down on the kitchen floor and flopping dramatically onto the doorjamb. 

“I am so sorry,” she says. “Thank you so much for coming over.”

“Your brother’s sick,” you tell her flatly. “He had a pretty high fever when I got here.”

Her eyes widen, and she turns to look over her shoulder at Seokjin, who gives her a cheery thumbs up. 

“He says he’s fine,” you inform her, “but he’s got about two more hours before the fever-reducer wears off and then he’s gonna be useless again.”

“Thank you for the warning,” she tells you, while Seokjin squawks from the living room, “I am not, and have never been, useless!” 

You give Minji a quick hug goodbye and head for the front door. 

You meet Seokjin’s eyes as you pass through the living room. They’re sharp, now that the fever’s receded, locked on you and looking. 

“Feel better,” you tell him. “Make sure you hydrate.”

“Hey,” he says, making himself comfortable against the couch cushions, “thanks.” Then, an afterthought - “Seriously. Thank you.”

You give him a tight smile and slip out the front door.

Going home doesn’t stop you from worrying, even though you know Minji is home and capable of taking care of everything. But at work the next day, your eyes keep darting to your phone screen, as if you’re expecting updates on how Jin is feeling, if everything is okay at the house. 

No one texts you. 

You can’t ask Minji. She’s too fucking smart. If you so much as said, “Hey, is your brother feeling better?” she’d be all over it. 

You try your mom instead, texting her, “How’s Mr. Kim doing? Any updates?” 

She answers, “Haven’t heard anything!”

You groan, tapping the corner of your phone on your desk in frustration. You try to focus on work for a little bit, but it’s truly a lost cause. With a defeated sigh, you open your phone and thumb through your contacts. 

Kim Seokjin. 

You’ve had his number in your phone since you got it - your mom was the one who programmed it in for you when you were fourteen, citing Jin as someone you could call if you had an emergency. As if by being two years your senior, he qualified as a helpful adult. 

You haven’t used his number in over five years - not since you were still in college, probably. 

Actually, you realize, you remember the last time - though there were definitely parts of the night you didn’t remember. 

It was your senior year, the first weekend of December, and you and Minji were drinking in some girl’s dorm. You’d never even met this girl before, but there you were, perched on her desk with a bottle of flavored vodka in hand, watching her LEDs change color along the ceiling.

You and Minji were both wasted, even though it was relatively early - not even midnight yet. You leaned against each other, holding the other up, both of you giggling and tapping around on your phones as the conversation flowed around you.

That’s what had happened - you’d noticed it was about to be midnight, the clock about to change from 11:59. And despite being so drunk that Minji was mostly propping you up, so drunk that you had to close one eye to read the letters of this girl’s alarm clock, so drunk that you’d be throwing up in just minutes - a little part of you brain informed you that midnight meant it was officially December 4th. 

You’d texted Seokjin happy birthday at exactly midnight, one eye closed to make sure you were typing actual words. He was hundreds of miles away, had graduated and moved out already, and you hadn’t talked since the day the Kims had loaded all of his shit into a rented moving van, about five months ago. 

And he’d answered - “thank you! what are you doing up??”

To which you’d replied, “getting baja blasted with your sister” and he’d replied, “i do not want to know, thank you!!”

And then Minji had looked at you drunkenly and narrowed her eyes. “Who are you texting with that smile?”

The floor had swooped below your feet, and you’d run for the bathroom. Minji had forgotten about interrogating you, and you and Seokjin had never texted again.

Now, at your job, you stare at his name on your phone screen, wracked with indecision. 

“This is ridiculous,” you finally sigh. Behind you, Dale glances over his shoulder to determine if you’re talking to him or yourself. Ignoring Dale, you tap Seokjin’s name and type, “how are you feeling today?”

You don’t even have time to feel nervous about it - his response is almost instantaneous. He sends you a picture of a gaming screen, where he’s clearly playing a shooter POV. He follows it up with the sunglasses emoji. You laugh out loud, trying to keep your chuckles quiet to avoid calling attention to your cubicle. 

“What a nerd,” you mutter affectionately. You type back, “you must be fine then 🙄”. 

Seokjin’s played video games his whole life; it’s one thing you do know about him. How many hours of your childhood had been spent with him, Jungkook, and Minji crowded around the tv in their basement, fighting over whose turn it was to play?Usually Seokjin got to play the first controller (since he was older, stronger, and technically the console belonged to him), which left you and Minji and Jungkook to fight it out over the second one.

But you remember other times, too - especially as you got older - when you’d just sit in silence and watch him play. By the time you were a teenager - fourteen to Jin’s sixteen - Minji was over wanting to join him. She’d argue for use of the tv, and when she lost she’d flounce upstairs to her room to sulk about it. Sometimes you’d join her - usually, you’d join her. But sometimes you’d cast a glance at Seokjin, see if you were welcome. He’d always play it the same - look at you sideways, give you a tiny nod, pat the couch behind him like an invitation. (Seokjin played video games from the floor, letting the base of the couch prop him up. He said he focused better that way.) 

You’d sit, quiet, watching him work the controls, listening to him whine and groan and complain and shout his way through each map. And you’d feel special, because he let you stay after he’d told Minji to fuck off, because he didn’t mind your presence, because sometimes he’d ask if you wanted him to teach you how, even though you always said no thanks. 

You text your mom and ask what she’s making for dinner.

“Why?” she sends back. “Are you asking me to feed you?”

“Maybe,” you send back. 

You join your parents for dinner, “just because”. It’s not that uncommon for you to join them for a meal now and then, considering how close you live. You go because you love your parents and you want a home-cooked meal - definitely not because you know it puts you back in proximity to Jin.

Your mom glances up at you from across the table approximately every four-tenths of a second through the entire meal, until finally you slap your palm on the table and snap, “What?”

She purses her lips, amused. “Nothing,” she says, feigning innocence. “We just don’t usually see you on Friday nights.”

“Jagi,” your dad warns, his voice full of affection. Like he knows it’s a lost cause but he thinks he should try to rein her in for your sake. 

“I’m just saying!” she says, still all innocence, eyes wide. “I’m not complaining! It’s nice to have you here.”

You grumble a response, aggravated that she seems to be onto you. To escape their scrutiny, you rise and move to bag up the full garbage, tying the top of the bag and heading out to the trash cans at the end of the driveway. 

You pause there after hefting the bag up and into the bin, taking a second to breathe. It’s a nice night - the sun has mostly set, the sky deep and dark above you but still clinging to shades of pink down near the horizon. It’s warm, too, for April. 

You’re standing there, arms crossed, watching the sky inch closer and closer to darkness, when you hear a door shut across the street. Your eyes follow the sound immediately, and you see a man’s silhouette do the same thing you were doing - make its way down the driveway, a trash bag in hand. 

Romantic, you think wryly. A garbage date. You stay rooted to the spot, watching as Jin - just an outline, a shadow - tosses the bag into the bin and brushes off his hands. Then, he stops still, seeming to notice you.

You hold your breath, not sure how this will go, and then he starts to lope over, and you exhale in a whoosh.

“Hi,” he says simply, as he gets close enough that you can finally see his face through the dark.

“Hi,” you say around a tiny smile. “You seem better today.”

He scoffs. “I told you it was just a cold. I just needed to sleep it off.”

“I’m glad,” you tell him softly. Maybe it’s dangerous, maybe it’s stupid - to be soft with him. To act like you didn’t already get your answer from him, years ago. To pretend your affection for him is still as pure and untainted as it was when you were a teenager. 

But it feels safer, out here, away from his dad’s house. In there, the memories of that New Year’s Eve are too fresh, too strong - they cling to the air, slide down the walls. The heating unit sighs to life and you hear your own sighs as Seokjin’s fingers danced along your bare skin. The refrigerator grumbles and you hear the grumble of pleasure that originated low in Seokjin’s throat as he felt you squeeze around his fingers. Someone’s footsteps crunch gravel outside, and you hear the crunch of gravel as Seokjin made his way back to the front of the house in the dark, leaving you hidden in shadows, clutching the bricks and gasping for breath.

It’s better out here. In the fresh air, away from that house, the memories are looser, less focused - bike races, raucous laughter, chalk drawings, bouncing beams of light from flashlight tag.

“Thank you for the help yesterday,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck like he does when he’s embarrassed. “I know I kind of gave you a hard time.”

“You didn’t,” you say, letting him off the hook. You’ll always let him off the hook, for everything. You always have. “How’s your dad?”

He glances back at the house over his shoulder, like he needs to verify this answer before giving it. “Not so good today,” he admits. “He’s in a lot more pain, starting to get frustrated needing so much help.”

“Hmm,” you deadpan. “A Kim man who gets frustrated at needing help. Interesting.”

Seokjin laughs, full from his belly. “Shut up,” he says, but there’s no ire in it. “Can I help it if I’m a chip off the ol’ block?”

“We’re supposed to learn from our parents’ mistakes,” you tell him, like a reminder. “Not continue them.”

Just then, a car turns around the corner, the headlights casting you in blinding white light before throwing you back into shadow. You both turn to look - since it’s a dead end, traffic doesn’t just pass through here. 

You recognize the car - it’s Minji’s. She parks and pops out, calling hello to you, ignoring her brother. He makes a face at you like, what am I, chopped liver? 

“I have your mom’s tupperwares, do you want to take them?” she asks, pressing the lock button on her key fob and making the car behind her beep once, loudly. 

“Sure,” you say, following her into the house. A glance over your shoulder tells you that Seokjin is following, too, a few feet behind you, his hands in his pockets. 

Inside, Mr. Kim is sitting sideways on the couch, his leg propped up on a small stack of pillows, a bag of ice over his knee. He perks up when he sees you, lowering his phone away from his face and pushing his spectacles further up his nose. 

“How are you, sweetheart?” he asks. “I’d come hug you, but -.” He gestures at his leg.

“I’m doing fine,” you assure him. “I heard you had a rough day today.”

Mr. Kim shoots a dark look at his son, who looks innocently at the ceiling. “Just a little pain today,” Mr. Kim demures.

Seokjin glances at his phone. “We might want to get you upstairs soon,” he tells his father. “You know you’ll be asleep in about fifteen minutes, so unless you want to spend the night on the couch…”

You watch, feeling awkward and unable to help, as Seokjin helps his dad swivel and stand, an arm over Seokjin’s shoulders. They make their way slowly and laboriously up the stairs, and you feel a little anxious watching. 

“Are they okay?” you ask Minji as she returns from the kitchen, pushing your mother’s empty tupperware back into your hands.

“They’re fine,” she says easily. “It takes a while but they’ve got it down to a science. Hey, listen, do you want to go grab a drink? It’s Friday, and I’ve had a hell of a week, and what I would really like to do is Uber into town and drink like college-Minji.”

You laugh at this. “I’m not sure I’m prepared for the return of college-Minji.”

“Pleaaaaaaaase?” she begs, blinking her lashes at you. “We haven’t gone out together in ages.”

“Alright, alright,” you laugh. “Let me go tell my parents goodbye and drive home and change. Text me the details and I’ll meet you there.”

“Yessss!” she cries, dancing in place a little. You feel a swell of affection for her; you love Minji with your whole heart. You’ve been through a lot together. You’ve been through a lot separately, but always side by side.

There have been many times through your life where you felt like you were clutching Minji’s hand through the fire. 

You still remember clearly the way she’d bounded up to your locker, back when you were thirteen, squealing and excited because the most popular girl in your year had asked her for her number, had invited her over. 

You still remember clearly Minji sobbing on your bed weeks later when it came to light that the girl - who wouldn’t be the last to try - was just trying to get an “in” with Minji’s hot older brother.

“You know I would never, right?” you’d promised her. Stupid, at fourteen, not clarifying that you mean never use you to get to him. Stupid, because then you were sixteen and then eighteen and then twenty-one and then twenty-six and you weren’t sure what you had actually promised - had Minji heard it as I would never get involved with him? 

“I know,” she’d sobbed, reaching one hand blindly to clutch at yours. “I know you wouldn’t.”

And now you’re twenty-eight and the secrets you’ve kept keep piling up - each day you loved him, another pebble atop the pile. The slightest shake could topple the tower, and you’d be absolutely buried. 

You could never let Minji know you loved him. Not when you were fifteen and he was untouchable. Not when you were twenty, and he was the best part of coming home. Not when you were twenty-six, pressed between him and the deck railing. 

Not now, after two years of existing outside his orbit again. 

The bar she picks is small, but quiet - quiet enough that you can actually carry on a conversation from opposite sides of a wooden booth, which is exactly what you do.

What you hadn’t banked on was that Seokjin would join her, sitting on her side of the booth, complaining loudly that he’s not going to come out with you two ever again, he’s never been such a third wheel in his life.

“You could have stayed home with dad,” Minji says, giving him a swift elbow to the ribs. “Don’t be such a complainer. You jumped in on my plans.”

“Can we please talk about something besides your hot coworker, then?” he begs. “Anything, anything else.”

“We could talk about my hot coworkers,” you offer, even though you have none. But this - teaming up with Minji to push Seokjin’s buttons - is a song and dance you know by heart, something you’ve done since practically infancy.

He narrows his eyes at you. “Believe it or not, that’s not better,” he deadpans. 

You laugh, knocking back the rest of your drink and sliding out of the booth to go get another, leaving the Kim siblings to bicker in your absence.

You don’t expect Seokjin to follow; you don’t expect him to press up behind you as you stand at the bar, waiting for the bartender’s attention. 

But he does, his body heavy and warm against yours. The blood rushes to your pussy so fast it almost makes you mad. All he’s doing is standing in close proximity, can your body get it together?

“What are you doing?” you murmur, trying not to meet his eyes in the mirrored wall behind the bar.

“Minji wants shots,” he answers easily. Like his body isn’t pressed against yours, like he isn’t causing your heart to hammer against your ribs.

“You’re too close,” you manage to say, because it’s the best option you can think of. Better than she’ll see us. Better than you still aren’t close enough. Better than don’t do this if you’re just going to leave again. 

He does catch your eyes in the mirror, then. He must read something honest on your face, because he shifts sideways, leaving you cold. The bartender comes by, takes both your orders. You take your drink back to the table. Seokjin follows with a tray of bad decisions poured into tiny glasses.

Even though he gave you the reprieve when you asked for it, it’s clear he’s got a mission to ruin you. You’re sure of it, more and more sure as the night wears on. Sure of it when you reach for the same shot glass, your fingers brushing, his lingering. Sure of it when his eyes on your face make you so warm that Minji accuses you of having a drunk flush. Sure of it when his foot hooks around your ankle beneath the table, slides up and down your calf, slow and tantalizing, inches from Minji’s stilettoed feet. Sure of it when this causes your breath to hitch and his fingers tighten around his glass and his gaze goes to the opposite wall, anywhere but towards you.

You’re drunk, but it’s Seokjin that’s sending you spinning. 

You’ve made this mistake before, you remind yourself sternly. Nothing good can come of it. 

You excuse yourself and head for the bathroom, a marked up door at the end of a narrow, poorly lit hallway. You grip the sides of the sink and breathe deep, closing your eyes. The room sways and you press your forehead to the mirror, trying to ground yourself. 

“You cannot fuck him again,” you whisper to yourself, eyes still closed. “It wouldn’t mean anything even if you did.”

The alcohol catches up to you as you whisper these words; the truth of them slam you harder than normal. You blink away tears, taking a few shuddering breaths.

“Time to go home,” you tell yourself firmly, turning off the water and wiping quickly under your eyes in case any makeup ran. 

This is what it means to be in Seokjin’s orbit, now: to crash into each other, to fight with yourself - fight with the truth that he doesn’t want you, and then run away scared until he’s too far away to hurt you again. Spin idly along until the next time your circles cross paths. Do it again.

He’s in the hallway when you emerge, arms crossed as he leans against the wall. You have to pass him to get back to the table. He pushes off the wall when he sees you coming, stumbles a little. A tiny, sensible part of your brain whispers that he might be drunker than you are as you sidle into his personal bubble.

“What are you doing, Seokjin?” you ask him for the second time that night. 

His eyes comb your face. You don’t know what answer he’s looking for, what question he’s secretly asked you in his mind. 

“You tell me,” he retorts, which doesn’t make a lot of sense, but speaking somehow brought him looming closer and you’re drowning in the smell of him, the warmth of him, the desire to feel his body hard against yours again, to feel him split you open again, to have his mouth hot on your skin again -

You close your eyes, sag a little. His hands come to your elbows quickly, holding you up. “You’re confusing me,” you whisper, and then look up at him through your lashes. 

There’s something aching on his face, and then he whispers back, “I’m sorry. Y/N, I’m so sorry - I never meant -.”

The click-clack of high heels approach and round the corner. You and Seokjin leap apart like you’re burned, your arms tingling where his fingers had been.

It’s not Minji. The stranger murmurs an apology and brushes past you both, towards the bathroom.

Spooked, startled out of the moment, you turn to head back to the bar, back to Minji. 

Seokjin grabs your arm, pulls you back. You teeter back a step, then look at him expectantly as you regain your balance.

Seriously, so seriously, he tells you, “I swear, I never wanted to hurt you.” Then he releases your arm with a tiny push, guiding you back out of the dirty hallway and into the light.

You Uber home alone. You brush your teeth, remove your makeup. You change into pajamas, drink a glass of water. 

You wake up to your phone buzzing incessantly next to your head.

[10:14 AM] Jin 😎: oh [10:14 AM] Jin 😎: my god [10:14 AM] Jin 😎: i think i am dead? [10:15 AM] Jin 😎: are you dead too? are we ghosts? [10:15 AM] Jin 😎: can ghosts throw up??? 🤔

You giggle despite your own headache. 

[10:15 AM] You: whats wrong old man, you can’t hang anymore?? [10:16 AM] Jin 😎: WOW [10:16 AM] You: 😇

You check all your other socials, answer a few emails, and then finally drag yourself out of bed and head for a hot shower. As you stand beneath the hot water, you think about your first hangover, when you were sixteen. 

You’d woken up next to Minji on her basement floor, a hoodie balled up beneath your head like a pillow. You’d closed your eyes again, hoping the splitting pain in your head and the roiling adrenaline in your stomach were a bad dream. 

They were not.

You spent most of the next hour in the basement’s tiny bathroom, curled up on the floor next to your porcelain jail. When you felt like you could stand, you rinsed your mouth and pulled the pillow-hoodie onto your body, taking comfort in the way it swam on you, the hemline brushing your thighs just below your cutoffs. 

You’d made your way upstairs, hoping to sneak past Mr. Kim and your own parents and make it unscathed to your own bed. You wanted nothing but to sleep for the next fourteen hours. Or years. 

You got busted at the top of the stairs. Luckily, it was Seokjin bustling around the kitchen, not his father.

He had taken one look at you and started laughing, low in his belly. “Too much fun?”

“Shut up,” you’d whined, literally covering your ears against the noise. “Or I will throw up again, I promise.”

Jin had smiled at you, open and easy. “Sit down, kid,” he’d said kindly, jerking his head towards the kitchen table. “I have an age-old remedy.” 

And actually? It had worked.

After drying your hair and throwing on some jeans and a t-shirt, you scavenge your kitchen. You have most of what you need, and you toss it all into a tote bag and hunt for your keys. You finally find them on the floor next to the kitchen counter - chances are you’d tossed them at the counter last night and missed - and head out.

Your parents are home when you let yourself in. They both stare at you, baffled, then exchange a sly, knowing look.

“You’re back, I see,” your mom says, something sneaky in her tone.

“Do you have any bean paste?” you answer. “I’m going to go make Minji hangover soup.”

Only one word was a lie.

This makes your mom laugh, and she rummages in her cabinets and helps you complete the list of ingredients you need. 

The Kims’ front door is locked, so you make your way around the side of the house and fish the key out of its hiding spot, letting yourself in the side door that leads to the kitchen. 

The house is still and quiet, and you try not to clang any pots and pans as you get to work. When you finish, over an hour later, you set up the table - a bowl of hangover soup, and a mug of steaming hot coffee, black.

You text Seokjin, “come to the kitchen”, and set your phone back down, turning to start on the dishes. 

You’re informed of his presence by his laugh. You turn, hands red under the hot water and covered in suds, to see him sitting down at the spot you’d set up. He looks up at you, amazed, an uncertain smile playing across his face. 

“It’s an age-old remedy,” you tell him seriously.

“You are…” he trails off with a quiet laugh and reaches for the coffee. 

You’d love to know the end of that sentence. 

When you finish the dishes - save for the pot with the remaining soup, still on the stove for when Minji wakes up - you pour your own mug of coffee and sit across from Jin, watching as he finishes his soup. He closes his eyes and sighs happily, then sets down his spoon reverently.

“Thank you,” he says, like a prayer, but also like a joke. “That was so needed.”

“Consider it payback,” you tell him. 

It feels different, sitting across the kitchen table. Different than sitting across that booth at the bar. Less charged. Like it wasn’t something physical burning between you, like you’d thought, but the need for catharsis, for apology. Even if you don’t know what he’s sorry for, even if you still don’t know what exactly happened with him two years ago.

He’s thinking about it too, apparently. He says your name quietly, and you look up to meet his eyes. You can read the apology all over his face. The house is still still and quiet, no one awake but you and Jin. Like no one exists but you and Jin.

You’ve felt that way before.

Sitting beside him in the basement. In the passenger seat of his car, driving through a rainstorm. In his backyard, in the dark, your breath visible in the air as it leaves your mouth in desperate puffs.

“I kind of wanted to talk,” he admits, and your stomach twists. Maybe you should have had some of the soup. “About -?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you say quickly, already standing, already moving to gather up the tote bag you’d used to carry ingredients. You shrug back into your jacket, ignoring Jin’s wide-eyed look of surprise. “I should get going,” you say, still not looking at him. You go back to the kitchen door you’d entered through, picking up the key so you can return it to its hiding place outside. You pause on the threshold, turning, eyeing the stovetop thoughtfully. 

“Tell Minji you made the soup,” you instruct, and then you close the door behind you. 

Next ->

Thank you so so much for reading - i hope you like this one as much as I do! Please don't feel shy about letting me know what you think!

Part 2: Retrograde will post next Friday, June 2nd. Hope to see you there!

[antimonyandthyme]

martian; retirement (as told by oscar)

They do a massive barbecue at the end of Seb’s visit. Mark’s steaks have been soaking in some special homemade marinade for precisely six hours. He’s got enough potatoes to feed a farm.

He forgets the salad.

“You forgot the salad,” Seb says. He sounds absolutely delighted. He’s sounded this way ever since Mark picked him up at the airport. But even more so at the moment. “All that talk about this being the best meal I’ll get this side of town, and you forgot the salad.”

“He’ll never let me live this down,” Mark says.

“I won’t,” Seb confirms.

Oscar owes it to Mark to help, just a little bit. “Isn’t there a Woolworths just around the corner?”

Mark’s face does something very funny. It takes a moment for Oscar to realize Mark’s sulking, like he’s genuinely upset he has to get salad from a store. Like it’s not going to be good for Seb or something. As if Mark could put a burnt steak in front of Seb, and Seb wouldn’t eat as if his life depended on it. How do you go from crashing into each other to this?

Seb checks Mark in the hip, and pries the tongs out of Mark’s unwilling hand. Oscar watches as their fingers tangle, not so briefly, before they separate. “I won’t let the meat burn, I promise.”

Mark sighs, and goes to grab the car keys.

“Do me a favour,” Seb says, “accompany him for me, will you? Don’t let him get lost at the salad bar.”

“Do my best,” Oscar says. Something in Seb’s tone makes Oscar look. Really look. At Mark standing in front of the chilled chafing dishes containing coleslaw and mixed greens.

At Mark staring right past, lost in thought.

Oscar reaches for a takeout container, and ladles a heap of Caesar salad in. Decides to get a little fancy and scatter some goat cheese atop. He clears his throat, and Mark nearly jumps.

“I’ve had this before,” Oscar tries. He’s gunning for it blind here. “Totally decent salad. I’m sure Seb wouldn’t mind.”

Mark lets out a small chuff of laughter. “You could give him a slice of toast and he’d thank you for it.”

“Okay,” Oscar says. He clicks the tongs in his hand for something to do. Ting ting. Then he reaches for another takeout container, and spoons the Thai salad in. The more the merrier, Seb would agree. “So why—?”

“I keep trying to convince myself this wouldn’t be the last I see of him for awhile.”

“It won’t,” Oscar protests. “He’s retired now. He has more time.”

“For his bees, and the sailing, and the exploring, and the whatever that comes after retirement. So what should I say? Stay here instead?”

There isn’t an answer for that. Oscar can’t pretend he’s ever wanted that of someone. Maybe someday. Maybe never. Seb and Mark don’t seem to be enjoying it. The wanting that of someone.

The containers are getting ridiculously full. Mark doesn’t reach for them yet. So, delicately, Oscar sprinkles a layer of sesame seeds on top.

“We’ve been apart so often,” Mark says, unprompted. “We’ve had our own schedules most of our lives, and this isn’t any different. I know I’m being silly.”

“You’re not,” Oscar says. It doesn’t feel strange, saying that to someone he looks up to in every which way possible. Someone in charge of his future. He wants that devastation wiped off Mark’s face. “I’ve seen how you look at each other.”

It’s how Mark’s gaze is turned upwards whenever Seb’s telling a story, like a plant searching out the light. It’s how Seb’s eyes dance across everyone in the room before landing on Mark. Floating away, then settling back. Floating away, then settling back again. It’s never grandiose declarations like, Stay here with me forever. It’s the drifting, through landscape after landscape, and the returning each and every time.

“Maybe,” Oscar says, “if you asked.”

“If I asked, he would.”

Which is why Mark will never. Oscar knows that much about love, at least. Something about letting go. He snaps the lids of the containers shut. Mark trails after him, and only shakes out of his stupor when Oscar tries to pay for the salads.

Seb greets them at the door with an anxiousness Oscar’s familiar with. Tongs in his hand, Ting ting.

“Did you get lost?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Oscar says. Next to him, Mark stiffens. “Do you know how many varieties of salad Woolworths has?”

Mark presents the containers to Seb with a flourish. Their fingers overlay. Oscar imagines pressing his own hands on top, like Stay, stay.

Stay if you know what’s good for you.

“Oh my god,” Mark says.

The barbeque smells as if it’s caught fire.

“You like your meat well done, right?” Seb looks hopeful. He also looks like he’s on the verge of panic. Like the brief moment away from Mark had done him in. Made him forget his name, and all that comes with it, reputation and inheritance and legacy.

That gaze of Seb’s again, darting away, lingering on Mark, darting away, lingering on Mark once more.

“One forgets the salad, and one forgets the meat,” Oscar says. He kinda wants to yell at them for being idiots. He’s almost embarrassed for them both. Mostly, he’s just hungry. “The two of you deserve each other.”

But Mark’s laughing now, and Seb’s joined him, shoulders shaking. Oscar grumbles and goes to rummage around the kitchen for something edible. No one has ever said ex-Formula 1 drivers were smart. They’ve spent too long driving around in circles to understand that the quickest way from point A to B is a straight line.

Hah. That’s a good one.

There’s linguine in Mark’s cupboard, and two tins of unopened tomato sauce. Nothing goes better with potatoes than even more carbs.

“Expired in 2021,” Seb reads.

“I don’t care,” Oscar says fervently. “Can I leave the boiling of water to you, or will you burn that too?”

“I like him,” Seb says to Mark brightly. Mark gives Seb a look, watery and resigned and so fucking fond. “You’ll continue giving him a hard time for me, won’t you?”

“Do my best,” Oscar says.

[angryschnauzer]

As Sweet As Honey - Chapter 1

Summary: Finding a new life in a new town, you stumble upon a Honey farmer at the town market. You both have pasts that have shaped the way you now live your lives, but can you find a way of putting them behind you to find happiness?

Pairing: ‘Lucas’ Syverson x Female Reader

Fandom: Henry Cavill, Sandcastle (Movie).

Ongoing Genre: Fluff, Angst, and Smut

Warnings: None for this chapter

Here is my masterlist and AO3

Wordcount: 3073

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll then get an alert each time i post something new. My AO3 also has my entire back catalogue of stories (going back to 2013).

A Sweet As Honey

Walking slowly through the farmers market you inhaled deeply, the crisp morning air filled with heady scents. From the stall selling baked goods to the one from the fruit farm piled high with berries, you were tempted to buy one of everything. Crafters showed off their wares, hand knitted scarves and carefully crafted leather purses, the array of skills on offer was mind blowing. 

Strolling along you turned the corner and saw the bright sign for a honey stand, the retro font proudly proclaiming its name as ‘Akia Honey Farm’. Before you could go any further a familiar face popped into view;

“Hi there Sweetie!”

“Oh hi Mrs Roberts”

The friendly old woman volunteered at the local library, guiding people to the sections they needed, helped at the front desk and was pretty much known as the person that could point you in the right direction of whatever you wanted;

“I had someone asking if i knew of anyone that sold lavender, i didn’t give them your details but took theirs, i know you mentioned that the bushes in your yard are in full bloom”

Taking the piece of paper from her you glanced at it, a single name and number;

“Thanks, i’ll give this Lucas guy a call… the bushes are covered in bees at the moment so they’ll have to wait until they’ve finished feeding”

“I’m sure it’ll be ok, you take care now sweetie!”

Watching the older woman as she walked away she started to chat to other people, you got distracted by a flower stall, being drawn to the bright blooms tied into bunches.

Having made your purchase after much deliberation you recalled your initial intention and approached the honey stand, your attention focused on the produce, so when a soft deep voice greeted you, it made you jump a little;

“Good Morning! Looking for something sweet?”

“OH! Hi!”

The face behind the voice had you mesmerised, the man was tall - at least 6ft - and dressed in soft flannel, blue eyes that sparkled with a hint of mischief and a strong jawline covered in a soft beard. A warm smile spread across his face;

“How are you doing today?”

“Good, great! It's a beautiful morning”

He looked around and smiled again;

“It is indeed, this weather will bring the blossoms out, the bees will love that…”

You were so entranced by the handsome man in front of you, that you’d practically forgotten what you were there for, your brain finally catching up with your heart as you looked down at the produce;

“What would you recommend?”

“Depends what you’re using it for… are you adding it to cereal, or baking?”

“I like to add it to herbal tea, i have herbs in my garden and make my own blends”

He smiled at this and reached over the produce to lift a jar of clear yellow honey;

“You’ll find this the best option then, it’s got a subtle taste and aroma that isn’t overpowering, would you like to try a sample?”

Nodding you watched as he pulled a honey stirrer from an open jar, before nodding to a basket of freshly cut bread to which you picked a piece, holding it out as he drizzled the liquid gold over the soft dough, a small drip landing on your finger. Swapping hands you licked it off your skin before trying it on the bread, the soft flavours hitting your taste buds and making you let out a quiet moan;

“Oh this is so good! I could just lick it off skin , it's so good!…”

The man actually blushed a little at your words and you didn’t know what to say, instead just stuffing the rest of the bread into your mouth and you nodded, muttering like a hamster with its cheeks stuffed that you’d take a jar of it. Noticing that he had other products you moved your attention to those, taking in the beeswax candles before you spotted some waxy fabric squares;

“What are these if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Beeswax Wraps, they’re reusable food wraps, rather than using single use plastic”

“How do they work? They seem really stiff” you frowned at the one in your hand

“Let me show you” he lifted the wrap from your grasp and set an empty bowl on the table in front of you, holding the wrap over it he slowly smoothed it down until it wrapped around the bowl.

“Oh i see! Can i try?”

He passed you another wrap and you tried to mimic his actions, but the fabric wouldn’t behave;

“Why won’t it work?” you muttered to yourself, however you were surprised when he laid his hands over the top of yours;

“You just need to hold it a little longer, let the heat from your palms soften the wax”

You were transfixed by the sheer size of his hands as they covered your own, warm and a little rough from working manual labour, you could have stayed like that all day. When he finally pulled away you had to stop yourself whining at the loss of his touch, but when you looked down your wrap was securely holding around the bowl;

“Oh, it worked!” you picked two fabrics you liked the designs of and handed them over; “Can i take these two as well?”

“Of course, that's great, thank you”

He packed your purchases into a small paper bag with bees printed on it, handing it over as you paid him and he handed you the change;

“Thank you, and if you get a chance please leave a review online or tag us on social media, that’d be great”

You glanced into the bag and saw he’d put a business card in, nodding you smiled at him;

“Absolutely! One last thing, where did you get that bread? Was it at this market?It's amazing!”

The man smiled, the blush returning to his cheeks;

“Actually i baked it myself”

“Oh… Ok, thanks anyway”

As other customers appeared you took your leave, wishing you hadn’t felt quite as awkward around such a handsome guy.

Your walk home was a pleasant one after spending another couple of hours at the market, you lived on the outskirts of town but as the area was known for its hiking trails there was sidewalk well past the town line meaning you didn’t have to walk on the verge of the road. As you strolled along you absentmindedly scrolled through your phone, remembering to pull up the instagram page for the honey seller, and what you saw stopped you in your tracks;

“Good god…” you muttered as you scrolled through his feed. You weren’t sure if it was deliberate, but almost every other post could be considered a thirst trap; from the reel of him using the hand cranked honey spinning centrifuge and the tight white tank top he wore showing off his impressive arms and torso that seemed to be patterned with the occasional scar, to the close up shots of his hands, whether he was gently letting the bees climb over his palms, to the one where he dipped his finger in a jar of honey and sucked it off, his plump lips wrapping around the digit as he held eye contact with the camera.

When you finally looked up from your phone you realised you’d walked past your house, letting out a small laugh you turned and backtracked the hundred feet or so before you finally stepped into your yard, letting the small white gate shut behind you. For a moment you took in the beautiful flowers and herbs you’d so carefully tended, until your attention moved to the long line of Lavender bushes that ran along the back perimeter of your property. They were teaming with bees feasting on the rich nectar, the hum from the insects, a low background noise that added to the calls of the wild birds and the occasional cry of a deer as it strayed from the woodland.

Once you were settled and had packed away your purchases, your flowers happily in water in an old mason jar in the kitchen window you found the slip of paper Mrs Roberts had given you. Glancing at the purple haze the Lavender gave off you dialled the number and listened to it ring, hearing the automated voicemail before you left a message;

“Hi this is a message for Lucas, Mrs Roberts at the library passed me your number that you were looking for Lavender blooms. I have quite a lot in my yard but they are covered in bees at the moment…” you continued the message, leaving your address and suggesting that he come look to see if it's what he was needing before you committed to anything. Hanging up you set your phone aside before making yourself a tea and grabbing the novel you were halfway through, heading out to the wicker chair you had on your little porch at the side of the house, ready to settle in for a while in the sunshine.

-

Sy finished packing the last of the equipment away, smiling to himself as he saw the number of boxes of product he was loading into the back of his truck were considerably lighter than they had been that morning. With the takings safely locked away in the glove compartment of his truck he sought out the market organiser and paid for the pitch, before calling out for his German Shepherd that had spent most of the day happily snoozing under the table unbeknown to his customers;

“Akia, c’mon Girl!”

As the dog made the rounds of the last few traders that were still packing away in the late afternoon sunshine, Sy checked his phone. Dismissing the social media notifications he saw that he had a voicemail, listening to it as he opened the passenger side door and Akia jumped into the cab;

“Okay, we’ve got a stop to make on the way home, just round the corner from the hives though”

As he pulled up at the small wooden cottage, Sy spotted how it was nicely painted and the gardens tended to perfectly, but if you looked a little closer there were things that needed to be done; shingles loose on the roof, the driveway needed to be re-gravelled, the gutter pipe was loose from the down spout, meaning the rainwater would run down the end of the porch.

“Wait here girl”

The dog didn’t respond, she was back to snoozing again on the wide seats of the truck, Sy gently shut the door so as not to wake his furry best friend. Opening the small wooden gate he noticed that the hinges were worn and that the latch could do with being oiled, but let it quietly close behind him. As he turned the corner of the house two things immediately came into view; the masses of Lavender bushes that filled the senses, and the owner of the cottage quietly sleeping in a chair on the porch, her book hanging from her hand where she’d nodded off mid chapter. 

It took him a moment to recognise you, but as the realisation set in he felt a warmth through his body. Curled in your chair with your feet tucked under your legs, your dress had ridden up and he could see the soft curve of your thighs. Without your jacket he could see how your dress clung to your body, accentuating your breasts. Your mouth sat slightly open, your lips plump, and he could imagine himself running his thumb over your bottom lip as he uttered soft praises. 

Realising he was now not only staring, but also standing in a strangers garden as she slept, he shook himself;

“C’mon Sy, you’ve seen the Lavender, time to get going”

Quietly leaving the garden he made a mental note to message you back, before driving the short distance home, as it turned out he lived in the plot next door… it just happened that his fields backed onto your property.

-

Sunday morning rolled around and you were woken by your phone chiming with a text message, reading it through bleary eyes and you saw that it was the guy that wanted some Lavender, suggesting he come over late morning. Typing out a short reply that you were fine with that, you switched to Instagram and sleepily watched the stories, before one came up for Akia Honey;

“Oh what’s he been up to now?”

Tapping through the tags and shares from the previous day's market, you came to a reel he’d posted just a couple of hours earlier, captions showing he was going to be making honey bread. With clips of him mixing the ingredients by hand, before it cut to him kneading the dough wearing what looked like just an apron and jeans. Well, that and a light dusting of flour your fingers just wanted to dust off and feel the heat of his skin beneath. Shaping a loaf it was then captioned ‘time to shape the buns’ and your eyebrows shot up they almost hit your hairline;

“He can shape my buns any time he likes…” you muttered, your vision transfixed as his massive hands shaped the globes of dough, before he placed them onto the baking tray. The reel ended with a shot of the finished loaves, a steaming mug of coffee sat next to them as the morning sunlight streamed in through the window; “Well, I don't know if I now need sex, carbs, or coffee… thank you very much!” you muttered sarcastically, before you finally threw the covers off and headed for the shower.

You were mid way through your 2nd cup of coffee when you heard footsteps on your porch, and a quiet voice saying ‘no, sit, stay’. Peering out of the window you saw Mr Akia Honey outside, to which he saw you and waved.

Stepping out of the side door you smiled;

“Um, Hi…”

“Morning, you called me about the lavender yesterday? Sorry it took so long to come back to you, the market was really busy”

“You’re Lucas?!”

“Lucas Syverson, but just Sy is fine” the man smiled at you and held his hand out to shake, which you cautiously took, hoping as you shook hands you weren’t shaking too much from nerves. At that moment you heard a quiet woof from behind him, and much to your disappointment he withdrew his hand as he stepped aside; “And this is Akia, my trusty bee-hound”

“Bee-hound? That’s a breed? She looks a lot like a German Shepherd to me”

Laughing Sy shook his head;

“No, she’s actually a rescue that I brought back from overseas but i’ve trained her to scent out wild honey, plus her colouring means that ‘Bee-hound’ fits well”

The dog came up to you slowly and sniffed your hand, before she sat in front of you expectantly;

“If you’re comfortable with dogs, she’s waiting for a head pat…”

“Oh! Of course!” stroking the top of Akia’s head she started to wag her tail, before sneezing once and getting up again; “I guess that’s her way of saying that’s enough?”

Laughing, Sy smiled at you;

“That’s about right. So, the Lavender? I swung by yesterday after i’d finished at the market but you were…”

Your heart dropped into your stomach at what he was about to say;

“Oh god, was that when I was asleep on the chair? I’m so sorry about that”

Again with his soft laugh breaking the tension; “It’s fine, it’s your home, it was a long day, it's the weekend. You can do whatever you want, its me that should be apologising for just turning up without calling first”

You both paused for a moment before you nodded to the purple pushes that ran alongside your property boundary line;

“Anyway, how much Lavender did you need? You can take as much as you like”

The pair of you stepped off the porch and onto the soft grass, Akia taking the chance to explore your yard as she sniffed out behind trees and shrubs. Standing a few feet from the purple haze you watched as Sy slowly extended his hand to the sea of blooms.

“Watch out for… bees…”

Smiling at you he turned back to the insect covered flowers;

“Its fine, they’re my bees anyway” you watched as he let the little striped creatures crawl across his hand before buzzing off elsewhere; “I hadn’t realised that your property backs onto mine”

“It does?”

“This is my field” he nodded to the meadow that surrounded your property; “My cabin is just behind those pines” he nodded into the meadow to which you looked into the distance, just able to see the red tin roof of his home; “You see those little blue spots in the distance? They’re the hives”

He turned back to the Lavender and let out a small sigh;

“I’ve never seen blooms quite this vivid. Would you be offended if I made you an offer?”

You couldn’t help it but an eyebrow shot up your forehead, to which Sy turned almost beet red;

“No, no… not that kind of offer… i mean, i’d like to take all of it, the Lavender that is… oh god…” he laughed and raked his hand down his face before taking a deep breath and putting his hands on his hips; 

“This crop of Lavender is amazing. I've been looking to add Lavender to a number of products, but it’s so expensive. I was wondering if we could work out a bartering exchange or something? I noticed you have a few shingles loose on the front of your property that I could fix for you, and I can supply you with as much honey as you could ever wish for…”

Standing there you pretended to mull over his offer, knowing full well you would happily accept whatever terms he wanted;

“Throw in a loaf of that amazing bread and you have yourself a deal”

Grinning, he took your hand and shook it;

“Deal”

Ten minutes later you were watching Sy and Akia walk back to their cabin through the meadow, he’d promised to swing by later that afternoon to harvest some of the lavender and bring his tools to fix the shingles on the front of the house. Now you just need to keep yourself busy until then.

Chapter 2 >>>

[iamprchung]

'Grateful'

Fluff Alert.

Scully, with a mischievous pregnancy craving, calls a grumpy-but-secretly-soft Skinner in the middle of the night. Tacos and lottery tickets later, their late-night ritual unfolds, filled with playful jabs and unspoken worry. As Scully gets closer to her due date, the question of where she'll stay hangs heavy in the air. Will their late-night talks and midnight deliveries lead them to a solution that keeps everyone safe and happy?

"Grateful"

by PR Chung

It was... what time?

The phone was... ringing.

Who's calling? Skinner thought, groggily reaching out from his sleep for the

receiver.

"Yes?" His voice was rough with sleep. "Is everything okay" he asked after a

moment, and sat up in the darkness of his bedroom.

He listened for another moment, rubbing his face. "All right," he answered and turned on the light. "Sure. No, it's all right. I'll... be there in a while," he promised slowly as he looked at the time; 12:34. "I'll see you in a whi-- And a what?” He listened, and repeated, “A Power Ball ticket? Sure. No problem."

He hung the phone up, shook his head to clear the sleep. He sat for a second, an amused grin growing across his expression. “A Power Ball ticket,” he said, and chuckled.

Skinner stood, ready to dress and his cross-town journey.

-----------------------X---------------------

"Who is it?" Scully's voice sound through the door.

"The Taco Man," Skinner called back, dryly.

The apartment door came open and Skinner's eyes immediately went to Scully's round belly-- It was an unavoidable reaction each time he saw her now.

Self-conscious, he lowered his gaze and lifted the bag from Murphy's 24/7 Taco Haven. "As you requested."

"You're a saint," Scully said and grinned, reaching for the bag.

"That's arguable in some circles," he replied, following her inside and shutting the door behind himself.

"Oh, did you--?"

Before she could finish Skinner produced a Power Ball lottery ticket with a magician-like flick of his fingers, holding it up for her to see.

Scully smiled and went back to exploring the bag of food she'd set on the kitchen table. After a moment, she stopped and frowned at the contents. "I didn't need this much food," she said, glancing at Skinner.

"You're assuming an awful lot," he said with a smirk as he came into the kitchen, "some of those tacos are mine."

-----------------------X---------------------

They ate at the kitchen table; Scully wolfing down her special delivery midnight snack, while Skinner ate at more leisurely pace. Once she finished, Scully slowly looked up across the table, a self-conscious spark of realization in her blue eyes.

"Did you taste your food?" Skinner teased.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Scully said, trying to rise as gracefully from her chair as her pregnancy would allow. "And it was delicious."

Skinner finished his food, watching her move around the kitchen with careful slow steps, cleaning, and straightening. Nesting was the word that came to his mind after a moment of watching her. He would have offered to help, if he hadn't before and been shot down by her vehement refusals. She was determined not to grow weak just because she was pregnant, but she was going to have to

relent at some point, and Skinner only hoped it was sooner than later.

At least she'd called on him to make the cravings run instead of going out late on her own; this fact, although a little frustrating at times, made him feel more secure about her and the baby's safety.

Scully went to the living room and settled into a corner of the sofa and turned on the television. Skinner followed, settling next to her to watch whatever she decided on, in companionable silence. This had become a sort of ritual with them in the last few weeks; the late-night food deliveries and then television for a while before one of them fell asleep. Scully needed the company, and so did Skinner, plus being with her helped ease his mounting concerns about her being alone as she neared her due date.

Skinner glanced at her, and her tummy; very round and cast in the soft blue glow of the television. It wouldn't be much longer, he thought.

Scully flipped channels, settling on the weather channel until the area forecast was over then moved onto Headlines news. Skinner waited until after the sports segment before he moved or spoke. Bringing his arm up to rest on the sofa behind Scully, letting her nuzzle into his side.

"When will you come stay with me?" he asked her, making no effort to mask his displeasure or concern.

"This is my home," she answered.

"I'm not asking you to abandon it."

"I know," Scully said glumly, and sighed.

"I could come here," he suggested, rubbing her arm softly.

"You wouldn't be comfortable here, and it wouldn't be fair to make you stay."

Skinner placed his hand on her hair and began to caress her head. "There's plenty of room at my place."

"I know," her voice grew softer, lower.

"I'd feel better," he matched her tone, nearing a whisper, "I think you would, too."

"I'm fine here," Scully hesitated, looking up at him. "You just don't want to be driving around getting food at all hours."

Skinner chuckled softly. "I'd still be driving around at all hours getting your food no matter where we were. The only difference would be how soon after the trips I'd be able to crawl back in bed."

"My sofa's not as comfortable as you thought it would be, huh?"

"No," he smiled, looking down into her eyes. "You know you're running out of time," he said seriously, "you need to decide what's in both yours and the baby's best interests now."

Scully lowered her gaze slowly and snuggled deeper at his side, saying nothing.

Skinner allowed her the time to mull it over.

"There's a lot of things I need," she said after a moment.

"Excuses."

"Well, what about you? Don't you need things when you're here-- a shaver and your clothes?" Scully lifted her head and looked at him closely. "It was like the end of the world when you woke up late that one morning--"

"I remember, you don't have to remind me again."

Scully put her head back down on his chest. "I won't," she said quietly.

Skinner glanced down after a while, seeing her eyes fluttering shut then forced wide open only to fall shut once again.

"Thank you for getting the food," she said, sounding very drowsy.

"You're welcome," Skinner whispered, resting his mouth against the top of her head.

"You're going to stay again," Scully asked, "aren't you?"

"Of course," he whispered, and placed a kiss into her hair.

Scully was quiet a very long time before Skinner checked to see if she was asleep, but when he moved she lifted her head and looked around the room until her gaze found him. She looked at him a second, as if she wasn't certain who he was, then smiled kindly at him. "Thank you," she said, putting her head to his chest again. "I'm so grateful for you."

Her breath grew deep and slow, and Skinner carefully took the remote from her hand to turn off the TV. The room went dark, and silence dowsed the two of them.

Skinner listened to Scully's steady breath, resting his cheek against her head once more. He exhaled softly, quietly and with so much weighing on his every thought. "Me, too."

------------------------------ xXx -----------------------------------

'Grateful'

A one shot fic.

[xxwitchylanexx]

One Wheel Short Of A Carriage- Cloud x Reader

Side quest spoilers for Junon Region

Rebirth Retold Chapter 4

Taking care of Gabe's Ranch

Again very little dialog is taken straight from the game to keep it as close to the canon game as possible.

TW brief mention of assault

Masterlist

Chapter 5

*~*

After a long uncomfortable night at the mouth of the mythril mines the early morning sun began to peak over the crest of the jagged mountain tops in pinks, oranges, and yellows. The steep inclines, its metamorphic ore only traversable by the sharp talons that black chocobos possessed, cut this area off from the rest of the continent, and with the aid of the ferocious sea the people who lived here were imprisoned on this corner of the Planet. Unless you had the funds to purchase a ticket to cross on one of the many cruise ships under Shinra’s command, or you were a fisherman, soldier, or a Shinra employee.

The area had flourished at one time, however the natural flora was now dried up and barren from years of pollution and prolonged mako use. The wildlife were thinning over time due to the growing number of mutated fiends hunting at a staggering pace which in turn affects the food supply of all local towns, Under Junon especially. And in your opinion, the worst feature was the long flat terrain of the plains between the mines and city fortress. There was little to no shelter to hide among or set up camp. If you needed a break you’d have to take your chances in broad sight and hope to Shiva no fiend would see you. If you were adept enough you could clear out the fiends in the old rusted workshops that were abandoned here and there, but the risk usually out weighed the potential benefit.

So it should be of no surprise that the first stop in the Junon region would be a chocobo ranch. What better way to get around this region’s atrocious landscape than by chocoback?

You’ve never actually been to this specific ranch. You preferred to cross between the city and mines quickly, often times forgoing a rest and camping inside the safety the mines provided, well until recently. You had heard about this ranch from Bill though. He often talked about how the owner had fallen on harder times a little while back, but lacked the drive to pull himself out of trouble so you had added it to your list to of farms to visit which just coincidentally worked out this time around. Now that you were here you wished you had come sooner.

The stalls and pens themselves appeared structurally sound, but inside the birds looked thin and restless. Their eyes felt hollow just like the dark empty depths of the mine you'd just crawled out of. The metal troughs were empty and a greenish film clung to the sides, long dried onto the metal from sitting in the sun. The ones that did have water in them had flies buzzing around and was murky like the swamps. Piles of hay and feed were scattered haphazardly and appeared to be inedible. You could clearly make out the shape of a boot track in one that was soggy. You circled around the main barn in search of any attendants and when you finally found one the woman quickly scampered away in shame under your scrutiny.

The others crowded around the house in the back and seemingly struck up a casual conversation with the one in charge. You had to stop yourself from stomping up there, and ripping him a new one. Instead you took steady measured steps up to the back of the crowd they'd formed. Aerith chattered on like a perfect ray of sunshine like she often did as you shuffled your way through your friends till you stood the front next to Cloud and Aerith.

He was unimpressive, like many of the other self involved old bastards you've encountered. Dry and peeling wrinkled skin like sun cracked leather faded in desert heat covered the man head to toe, except for the smoothness of his balding head. Black tattoos ran up his arms, across his shoulders and highlighted his collar bones before weaving down his torso, the lines creating an image of a man holding the fate of his world on his shoulders. You guessed he was in his mod to late forties though his appearance was very similar to people well into their sixties.

“I’m Gabe, by the way. Owner of the ranch here, and before you ask, my birds are not for rent, ain’t worth the risk.” You nearly scoffed as you crossed your arms across you chest. What risk? At this rate they had a better chance in the wild. “Used to run deliveries, but Shinra put the kibosh on all that. Still tryin’ to keep it goin’ best I can… well, was tryin’, till my carriage shit the bed. And since I don’t have the parts to fix her, both she and my business are as good as dead. Even the chocobos’re feeling down.” No shit, you thought.

“What if I fix it. ” You interjected, having no patience for the sob story of why he ‘cant fix it’. Both Cloud and Aerith turned to gawk at you with wide eyes and open jaws, clearly surprised you said anything at all.

“Kind of you to offer, but nah.”

“You’d rather let the chocobos starve? How responsible.” You snapped as you pinched the bridge of your nose. You knew what he was playing at. He wanted you to play this back and forth game before he would eventually “cave” and accept your help. You decided to save yourself the headache, and jump right into the details. “Just need parts, right?”

“Says the girl who ain’t gotta fix it… but even if ya were some kinda secret grease monkey, I wouldn’t be able to pay ya for your time. I’m flat broke.” You exhaled the rising anger through your nose. This conversation would get you nowhere. You turned to leave, someone else here would have the details, though his scratchy baritone clawed against your eardrums before you got a step in. “Curious about my birds? I’ve tried settin’ ‘em free, but they just keep comin’ back. Force of habit.”

You looked him dead in the eyes and held his gaze. Your words nearly spat at him. “You’re an ass. If you knew anything about chocobos you’d know they’d rather die than abandon their faith in their owner, no matter how displaced that loyalty may be.”

“What’d you sa- I know you! You’re that assistant girl from Bill’s farm ain’t ya?” His brows pinched angrily and nose scrunched in distaste. You could practically feel the waves of hostility roll off him.

You blinked once, twice, in disbelief. ‘Assistant girl’? “He was right about you. You’re just another deadbeat who can’t get off his ass,” You name flew out of Aerith’s mouth in a shocked gasp, “and fix his own damn problems.” His cheeks puffed and face grew as red as a tomato, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides, as you held him under your stern glare, disgust no doubt written all over your face. “I’ll fix your damn carriage, and save your birds. Not that you deserve it.” You left all of them there to watch him flounder like a fish as you set off to work. You wanted to check in on the barn before you set out to run around and fix his shit.

The gravel crunched under your stomping feet as you finally reached the large creaking door to the main stable. Chocobos were pretty adaptable creatures. To see them in such a bad condition meant they suffered from prolonged neglect. You've seen it before; ranches often run out of funds to care for their birds. Shinra was known for cutting off travel between regions and monopolizing travel so there was no need for people to rent chocobos anymore. No customer equaled no income which resulted in sick and dying chocobos. Hopefully you made it in time to turn this ranch around.

The employee you saw earlier was now hunched over herself with a pitchfork gripped tightly in her hands. She grunted in exertion with every shovel and shake as she worked hard to muck out the stall. She looked younger than your thought from your first glimpse, maybe fifteen or sixteen. Not that out of the ordinary around Gaia. Most kids had to start working around thirteen to survive these days, thanks to corporate greed and rewarding the ass kissers that rose within the ranks of Shinra. “Excuse me.”

She yelped and banged her head against a support beam. A sharp hiss slipping through her gritted teeth before she rubbed at her head and reluctantly moved to approach you, her straight brown hair swishing back and forth with her movement. “C-can I help you?” She asked, her quiet and meek voice wavering.

You gave her a gentle smile, as you studied her body language. Her swirling chocolate eyes flickering away from your steady gaze, her bottom lip wavering slightly under the pressure of her teeth, and her shoulders hunching inward with tension. She had dirt smeared across her mocha skin, one calloused hands clenching the pitchfork, and the knees of her overalls were stained with grass and dirt. You felt for her. A hard working girl like her didn't deserve to be under the weight of the crushing pressure of caring for so many chocobos alone, and by the subtle shake in muscles you're confident that Gabe must take out a lot of his anger on her. “Do you run the stables?” You asked calmly in your most soothing voice you could muster.

“Um, yes. It-it’s embarrassing to say that since it’s falling apart.” Her face fell as she refused to tear her eyes from her shoes.

“What’s your name?”

She leaned her equipment against the wall and leaned onto the gate in front if you. “Calla.”

“Hi, Calla. I’m Y/n. I travel all around the planet, and help out stables when they need it. I’d like to help you. Can you tell me what’s been going on here?”

“Um, sure, but I-I can’t pay you.” She said as she kicked at some of the straw lining the ground.

“Don’t worry about that.”

She nodded, a fiery determination simmering in her weary eyes, and her bottom lip trembled but she straightened her posture and began to break down the struggles shes been facing. You admired her resolve to work through her emotions, especially at her age. If you had one wish for the future of Gaia it would be to allow the youth of the future to be a child, to have a childhood instead of being thrust into the hardships adulthood to survive.

Anyhow, from your understanding all of Gabe’s clients brought their business elsewhere since the carriage broke down six months ago. She urged him to branch out and allow chocobo rentals to the influx of tourists who came from the central continent, but he deemed it too dangerous for the birds and closed the business down. The ranch wasn’t making any money so all the other stable hands quit leaving Calla in charge of everything. She was left with twelve birds to care for and no funds in either of the business accounts so she hasn’t been able to purchase enough greens to keep the chocobos well fed. Not to mention the troughs are too heavy for her to move by herself so the drinking water often got too warm and stagnant. As a result the chocobos weren’t getting enough water and one by one they were starting to get sick or too fatigued to do anything. “I just love them so much, but I don't know what to do.”

“That's why I'm here.” From outside the barn you could hear your friends discussing what to do next. You inhaled deeply and pushed that to the side for now. This was something only you could do, and if that meant being left behind, so be it. “First things first, you need to clean the troughs, thoroughly. Do you have any oats or wheat?” You asked, placing one hand on her shoulder.

“Oats, in the main house, I believe.” Calla sniffed and wiped at her nose with the back of her arm.

“Great! After you clean the bins, fill them up. You’re going to take whatever you have and mix it with any greens you have in stock. Three parts oats, one part greens. Got it?”

Calla fumbled out of the stall, nearly knocking her head on the wood again, and over to the small desk tucked into a corner of the room. She shuffled through the paper laying around for a pen and notebook then quickly jotted down your instructions. “Got it.”

You reached into your satchel and fished out a small glass container, crossing the room as you did so, and handed it to her. “These are for the ones that refuse to eat or if you feel like they’re getting sick. You only have to give them one of these, unless they don’t start eating in a few hours. In that case give them another. The treats stimulate appetite and help boost immune systems.”

“Oh,” Calla waved her hands in front of her in protest. “I can’t take something that valuable.”

You persisted. “Take them. Its really no trouble. I can make more if I need them.”

Calla’s attention momentarily faltered as her eyes darted behind you, to the new people entering the room, before her focus was back on you. She hesitantly took the stimulants from you in a shaky hand.

“Then I want you to empty the water container, clean them very well, and refill them. When I get back I’ll help you move them.”

“Are you sure this is okay? I really don’t feel right about letting you do this all for free!”

“Calla,” you waited till she looked at you, “You need help, and this is what I do. Let me help you.” Her bottom lip wobbled, before she nodded weakly. “You’re doing a great job. I’ll be back soon.” You paced towards your group, before slowing down and turning to address Calla once more. “And, Calla.” You paused until she peered over at you. “Give yourself some credit. These chocobos would be dead if it weren’t for you.”

She nodded weakly before ducking away to immediately start on her part, but the way her eyes sparkled with a newfound pride and a pep to her step you knew shed be okay. You faced your friends with a heavy sigh. You didn’t want to part from them, but you didn’t feel right asking them to come with you and delay their plans any longer. “I need to take care of this for now, so you guys can go on ahead. I’ll try to meet up with you later.” You pushed your lips into a thin line and shrugged.

Equally disappointed frowns pulled at their faces as well, except for Aerith who smiled brightly at you, and Cloud who was as stoic as ever. Not even the ghost of a frown on his blank face, and why is she smiling? Your brows furrowed, and an uncomfortable disappointment gnawed at your heartstrings. This could possibly be the last time you'd see each other, and neither seemed to care. The thought had you recoiling for a second. Since when do you care?

“Nope!” Her singsong voice captured your attention. She approached you and grabbed your hands firmly in hers. Her eyes reminded you of the ethereal greens that look like the dancing wisps of the lifestream. Her warmth always reminded you of a love from the mother you never had, and homesick for a life that could have been yours. “We’re in this together. You helped us with jobs in the grasslands, only fair we help you here. Right, Cloud?”

“Right.” The lack of attitude took you by surprise, but his eyes showed the honesty of his statement. You’re in this together. You looked around to each if them gathered around you. Barrett, Tifa, Red, Aerith, and Cloud each offering a nod or smile, Red even showed some teeth.

You caved easy. You didn’t try to change their mind, and you were sure you didn’t want to anyway. For the first time, you felt like this might be where you belonged. “Alright. First things first, we need to find a Mountain Chocobo.”

“Gabe said that a chocobo by the name of Belle and her pack was seen north of here.” Tifa explained. “He said she should be able to get us where we need to be.”

“Perfect, and everyone, thank you.” You bowed your head softly, hoping your gratitude could be conveyed properly before a big meaty hand clomped over the back of your head and ruffled back in forth pulling strands of silky h/c strands free from your braid. After trying to swat Barrett’s tree trunk of an arm away unsuccessful he pushed at your jaw line to lift you eyes to meet his, a cheeky grin stretched proudly on his rugged face.

“None of that, now. We got a job ta do.”

*~*

So… how do we catch her?” Tifa asked quietly from somewhere behind you. The group had found its way north to an abandoned, yet unexpectedly sturdy, ore refinery on a cliff that over looked the sea. The mid morning sun shone bright yellow rays that reflected off the crashing waves. that opened up into a field. You stood just inside the gates and crouched down behind a wall of barrels staking out the patterns of the chocobo flock frolicking inside the circular loop of cart tracks. At one time they were used to bring ore into the building and then once done was carted back out to the storage building, now it was just an obstacle keeping you from the alpha bird.

“Sneak up on her, I suppose.” You tracked her movements as she leisurely grazed between large tufts of grass. She was smart enough to graze in the center of the field where there wasn't a lot of shelter for predators to sneak up on her. She was a beauty. Her midnight black feathers looked as sleek as night itself. Her beak the color of a Junon sunset that was sharper than a yellow chocobo, and her shanks were larger in size and talons as sharp as razors to pierce the rock of the surrounding mountains.

Occasionally she chirped and chatted with the surrounding birds, but mostly minded her own business as she looked for the best looking grass to eat. “Well, she seems to be laid back,” you spoke your eyes never leaving the black beauty, “but she must be pretty headstrong to lead the flock.” You finally looked back towards them, your lips pressing into a thin line as you ran through your plans in your head. Before you said anything else a different chocobo began to squawk as it neared your group. You turned your head in its direction. If you could just distract it.

“What’s wrong?”Cloud asked as he crouched on your left and leaned towards you to get a glimpse at what held your attention.

You blinked at him once, twice before you sighed. He was beginning to be able to read you, and you weren't sure how you felt about that. “Those ones there,” you pointed to the two that were scampering in your direction, “seem excited to see us, but we’re not likely to get close to Belle if they’re making a fuss.” You tucked in a breathe when you looked over at him. He was so close, the mako hue made his eyes shine like the sea, his scent invaded your nose. You blinked hard and turned back to the two.

“So only one of us goes then.” He stated rather than asked.

“You got it. However, we might as well befriend them. We need six of them after all. Plus it’ll keep them distracted.” You nearly whispered.

“Give us a job.” You never thought Cloud would follow your lead. He always seemed like he needed to be the one issuing commands, though you suppose at one time he probably had to follow someone’s order given hes a military man.

“Yeah!” Aerith happily agreed with Cloud. You nodded, having no trouble setting your plan into motion.

“Why don’t you three,” you gestured to Tifa, Red, and Cloud, “go give those guys some love. Barret can you stand guard here? It should keep them all from taking off, and Aerith come with me? I’ll have you throw rocks to distract the ones closer to Belle so they don’t see me.”

“You got it.” Tifa answered as she slowly stood from where she hunched over and put her hand on your shoulder briefly before she and Red carefully advanced towards the cluster of chocobos. Meanwhile Cloud gave you one last nod before following after them.

Barret shook his grafted arm in an arc motion, going so far as to aim at random targets to make a show of it. “They won’t get past me!”

You chuckled at his enthusiasm, and rolled your eyes before thanking him. You looked towards your partner. “Ready?”

“You bet!” She held up her hand in search of a high five knowing full well you'd never leave her hanging. With a satisfying ‘clap’ the two of you crouched back down, as low to the ground as feasible, and slowly snuck up against one of the mine carts. You paused there, leaning around the corner of the cart, and searched for the next nearest chocobo. You looked to the other side at Cloud’s group to make sure they succeeded in drawing attention of the other two.

You smiled to yourself at the sight. The only one the birds were interested in was Cloud, he even drew the attention of two more. Two in front of him and two more around his back and side invaded his space. They pressed their beaks into his torso to sniff at his uniform, one of them sniffing at his ear and hair. His arms were raised and pushing gently against them, but even his soldier strength couldn’t rival an eager chocobo. Tifa was doubled over herself and clutching her stomach as she laughed while Red sat next to them with the biggest toothy grin you've ever seen on his face, and tail wagging at a rapid pace.

“You like him!” One of Aerith’s finger jabbed at your cheek.

You recoiled at the accusation and fell back on your hands. Your eyes wide as they darted between Aerith’s as you accessed if she was joking or not. You scowled at her laughter your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Wha- no! It’s not like that!”

“Oh, please! I see the way you look at him!” Aerith brought both hands to her face and pointed at her eyes. “Do you think I’m blind? Every time you see him, your eyes get all dreamy.”

You huffed like a child. “You’re delusional.”

“You know I’m right!”

“How on Gaia- I haven’t even- I’ve only known him for a couple weeks! You know what-never mind.” You brows knit together in irritation as you stared blankly at the grass in front of you.

She sighed wistfully, “I knew the second I saw my first love.” You reluctantly looked at her again, her expression ‘dreamy’ and far away. She smiled softly, almost sad. He must’ve been quite the guy to have the most positive girl on the planet look so lonely. You almost asked, your lips parted and the question on the tip of your tongue yet the loud ‘kwehs’ that chirped from Cloud’s group carried your train of thought, and your eyes, away.

Your pulse beat violently in your throat, and your hands grew clammy. His eyes focused on you and not the chocobo head butting against his hip. Shit, do you?

He gave you a small nod, his way of saying they were good to go. You exhaled deeply through your nose. No use thinking about it now. “Come on,” You shook your head and focused on the task at hand. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Right.” She dragged the word out implying that you just wanted to avoid the conversation, but quickly shifted into work mode. “You want me here?”

You made sure to look closely at the terminal and showed her the correct lever to make the carts travel forward or backwards. “Yeah. When I give the signal, hit this lever.”

She nodded. “Got it.”

One last quiet high five and then you began moving slowly along the carts on all fours to balance yourself. The dried grass pricked at your knees caps, and tiny pebbles molded tiny indents in your flesh. Your grit your teeth and crawled through the mild stings until you finally reached the end of the line. At the last cart you shifted your weight onto your legs and carefully poked your head around the hard edge to get a look at the space on front of you. Just one more chocobo ahead then smooth sailing to Belle.

You looked back to Aerith and gave her a thumbs up, the signal you two had agreed on. A moment later the cart you were behind lurched forward and you crawled besides it as it followed the tracks. As you neared the next chocobo you slowly switched to the other side to stay out of its eyesight. The gentle munching lightened your heart and had you smiling to yourself. Oh how you loved chocobos. You kept at it for another minute, keeping in pace with it before the cart screeched to a stop just a few yards from the target.

Belle looked up at the cart and you sank to the ground so no part of your body could be seen. You waited there for one minute, then two. At the three minute mark you seriously started to sweat that she might not look away, and you'd have to improvise. Then, finally, she straightened out her neck with a sassy chirp and averted her sight towards the old rusty building that’s been long forgotten. You inched forward, slow and steady trying to avoid anything that made noise.

You counted down the feet between you and her. The anticipation grew within you, the rush of taming a new chocobo one of the very things that drew you in to training in the first place. You were so close, literal inches away, when you stepped on a rock and twisted your ankle. A pained hiss slipped from between your clenched teeth, and Belle shot upward and twisted around to look at you.

Her wide saucer eyes stared at your slumped figure with childlike curiosity. Her head slightly turned towards you and a low cluck of her beak had you mirroring her inquisitiveness. Deep blue eyes, much like your solider friend, darted between your own searching you for an malicious intent.

“Hey there, Belle.” You spoke softly yet with confidence to convey your conviction to her safety with an outstretched hand and tranquil demeanor. A mirthful giggle bubbled in your chest as the cool beauty took a step forward, then another until her smooth beak nuzzled into your palm. “You’re not scared at all, are you?” Your other hand came up and twisted gently through a few of her midnight feathers before she knelt and offered her neck to you to help you stand.

Her eager chirps buzzed in your ears as she rose to her full height, lifting you up along with her, and quickly circled into your torso nudging at your satchel for the delicious aroma that wafted through the leather.

“I didn’t need to sneak up on you at all did I?” You fished out one of the homemade treats from your choco proof pocket and offered it on the palm of your hand. “Or did the others scare you?” Belle kweh’ed eagerly in response. “It was Barret wasn’t it?” You laughed a little more, scrunching your nose in a faux disgust look. “I promise, he’s a big softie just outwardly rough.” You patted her neck twice with a firm touch. “We could use some help getting around the area. Are you up for an adventure?”

She jumped in excitement, before moving into a position that would allow you to climb easily onto her back. She hardly waited for you to be seated properly before sprinting out towards every other chocobo she traveled with, chirping directions to her fellow flock members.

By now your friends have also found a feather friend to care for except for Barret, which was no surprise to you, but when the last chocobo realized it was him or being left behind the bird lumbered over and leaned down to offer Barret a ride.

Now equipped with your latest companions, the six of you kissed the rusty building and creaking carts goodbye. Barret shouted out a loud and melodious victory cry, which had Cloud groaning weakly besides at Barrett’s silly antics. You laughed so hard you almost fell head first off of Belle, the other girls joining in. You really haven’t ever had this much fun in your life, and you really didn’t ever want it to end.

Da du du daa duhn duhn du da daaa!

*~*

It was well into the afternoon when you arrived at the wainwright’s residence after two treacherous mountain climb which Belle scaled with ease, and an insanely close rock slide.

You started having doubts about this master craftsman when you seen the state of the ‘house’ he was living in. The shack was built out of old discolored wood that was worn down, and for some reason he used rusted corrugated metal to reinforce what was left of the door instead of replacing the damaged entrance, but the icing on the cake was the person sized hole in the roof that he patched up with a tattered tarp. The only thing that was noteworthy here was the view of the Meridian Sea.

You truly lost hope when you met him. He had to he quickly the planet’s laziest business man. The sheer audacity this man had to turn you away because he wanted to keep sleeping in the middle of the day. How on Gaia has he managed to stay in business? There was a stack of orders a rulers length tall on his for Odin’s sake. You had to crack your knuckles to keep yourself from giving him a wake up call he’d never forget.

“Think a swift kick’d get him up?” Cloud scoffed the corner of his lips ticking up in a wry smile.

“I like the way you think.” You agreed as you placed your hands on you hips.

“How about some magic?” Aerith questioned, pulling out her staff and waving it about as if she was putting on a show. The man cracked one crinkled eye open catching a flash of her weapon and jerked violently to an upright position and the head of the bed.

“Scared me half to death!” He screamed waving his hands side to side rapidly. “Look, you wanna get my ass up? Then you bring me exactly what’s on that list, got it?” He waved his arm, after shooting you the finger, over to the desk you snooped through. Without another word or further explanation he rolled onto his side so his back faced you and returned to his lazy past time .

“Well?” Cloud leaned his weight on one side and brought his hand to his hip. He must be as annoyed with this as you are.

You plucked what looked like a crude map with a tiny list of materials off the top of the stack. You puckered your lips to the side for a moment as you looked through the list before tucking the paper into your back pocket. “I say we get his ass up.”

Everyone shuffled back outside, and saddled back up without a word, eager to get this over with as quick as possible. Until you actually started to travel when Barret started ranting about how much of an ass that guy was, and how he was completely unprofessional. “If you didn’t want to do the work, why the hell would take the orders?!”

After collecting the materials at the first location Tifa shared your sentiment on the matter. “A nap on the job can’t possibly be good for his image.” She said as she dusted her hands of against her high socks.

At the second location, even Aerith chimed in. “The guy’s a jerk. Business requires amazing customer service, and building connections! Like how i gave Cloud a flower on the house the first time we met, and look at me now! He comes to me for all his flower needs.” She joked, as she scratched the top of her chocobo’s head for a job well done.

The only one who didn't have anything to say even after locating and digging up the parts of the last place on the list was Cloud.

Your attention wandered to him as you made the trip back, your gaze studying him from behind as you stayed in formation. It was still difficult for you to get a read on him. He was almost always cool and collected, almost stoic. Though there were times where you got a glimpse of what lied beneath the act. He could be quite the smart ass, and arrogant. He was cocky though with his skills he earned a little bit of slack there, not that you’re one to talk. He acted aloof, but you've seen the gentleness, and kindness that dwells in the depths of his soul.

You were becoming fond of the tiny wrinkle that formed between his knit eyebrows, or the way the tiniest of smirks would appear on his face when he did something that looked cool. Ever the showman, you’d joke. You guided Belle forward to bridge the gap between him and the rest of you.

“Hey, Cloud?” A rumble emanated from his chest to let you know he was listening. “Sorry for this.” You grabbed his attention then. “I know you were in a rush.” Your hands gripped the leather reigns harder.

A singular golden ray of the now lowering sun painted his face in gentle yellows, the front spikes of his hair falling into his gorgeous smoldering eyes. Your eyes fell down to trace the lines of him lips as he spoke. “Don’t mention it. We’re even.”

You squeezed your eyes tight. “Well, thank you.”

You’re not at all surprised that the guy was snoring loud enough to rattle the walls when you returned. You were a tad worried his snores would shake the foundation apart, like a giant earthquake would. Half the group waited outside, Barret too worked up from the earlier conversation and Tifa to keep him calm- ahem- company, while you, Cloud, and Aerith went in. You quickly crossed the room with the burlap sack, you’ve used to haul the parts with, pulled taut over your shoulder. At the edge of the rickety bed you dropped the heavy bag on top of his stomach. “Special delivery!” Aerith called out the second you gave him the bag.

He folded on impact with a loud umpf, then lots of groaning before finally looking through the sack.“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!” He exclaimed. He shoved the stuff to the side as he swung his legs over the side of the bed frame. “Name’s Freddie. So what was it ya needed again?” You inhaled sharply. Maybe it was because it looked like you wanted to slap the life right out of him, or maybe it was just the planet’s way of tagging you out, but Cloud grabbed you by the arm before stepping in front of you.

“The parts for Gabe.” Cloud’s words were flat and his irritation rolled off him in lukewarm waves.

“Uh, yeah. You did mention that. This’ll just take a sec.” Freddie hopped off the mattress and sauntered over to his workbench in the corner. You rolled your eyes as he made a show of crafting each part. You paced around the small room impatiently looking at the random diagrams that were hung to the walls. You honed in on the faint melody that seized your concentration, eventually zeroing in the origins to Aerith, as she too waited with bated breath. The tune vaguely sounds like something you'd heard back in the slums, and gently tugged at your heart strings.

After thirty or so minutes he finally presented the promised commission. “Tell me she ain’t a beauty. Got a wheel, bed, and brace. Nobody makes ‘em like I do, and that’s no lie. Go on- take it.”

You tugged the part from his grip and carefully inspected the quality of the parts carefully as Aerith chatted the guy up. You didn't want to admit it, but they were pretty damn good. At least his product makes up for the lack of customer service, though if it were you, you’d take your business elsewhere. This guy wasn’t worth the hassle. You shuffled everything back into the burlap and stretched your arms to the ceiling. You exhaled a relieving breath as the pain in your muscles subsided from the prolonged stiffness over the course of the day. “We good to go?” You asked.

With a curt nod Cloud replied “Yeah.”

You didn’t waste time thanking or giving a goodbye to the wainwright. You just wanted to finish up and hopefully make it to Junon before nightfall. What you would give to sleep in an actual bed for the night.

*~*

It wasn't until the evening that you returned to the ranch. You beelined straight to the barns to help Calla with the remaining tasks, opting to trust Aerith and Cloud to deliver the parts to Gabe. Calla’s hard work exceeded your expectations and brought a toothy grin onto your face. It seemed that the little bit of affirmation you offered her was the key to bringing out her natural talents. You believed she has what it takes to own and care for her own ranch one day.

Each trough was scrubbed so clean your own reflection stared back at you. Fresh food, prepared to the perfect ratio, filled each one, and most of the chocobos were chowing down. The stalls were entirely emptied out, wiped clean, and replaced with fresh straw. The birds inside were swaying from side to side content that their bellies were finally full, and energy slowly returning to their bodies. On your way out to the paddock you scratched one of them lightly under the beak, a sense of purpose being relit within you as it eagerly chirped at you for more.

Outside you found Calla hunched over the two feet by 10 feet silver water container, her lanky form kneeling in the dirt and arms working furiously at the mineral build up on the bottom.

“Hey. Nice job!” You complimented, taking up a spot against the wooden planks of the fence, looking in on her from the outside.

Her smile said it all. Brilliantly bright as she beamed up at you as you swiped at the sweat beading at her hairline, unknowingly smearing a streak of algae across her temple. She set the wire scrub brush down, and pushed herself to a stand, brushing the harsh pebbles and dirt off her knees. “Thanks! You were right about that supplement. Chochi is usually really stubborn but one of those treats and he gobbled the feed right up!”

“Glad to hear it.” You scaled the side then hopped into the pen next to her. “Let’s get this moved.”

The two of you moved the sixty pound rectangle to the side of the barn under the overhang from the roof so it’s shadow would always cast its shadow over the box. She thanked you profusely for all of your help with hugs, a handshake, and even a few tears. She made you promise that if you ever needed any help to search for her. You ruffled her hair a bit, internally nostalgic at finding yourself in the mentors position for once, and thanked her, but ultimately telling her not to worry about you. She’d do anything to return the favor. You wished you had more time to get to know her full story, but promised one day you’d seek her out to see how she’s doing. With a heavy heart, and a few more tears on her end, you parted ways. Before you could continue your journey you needed to have a serious discussion with the man in charge.

When you rejoined your friends Gabe had just finished installing the new parts on the carriage. You gave Aerith another high five for a job well done before he cleared his throat in a pathetic cry for attention. Your nostrils flared angrily with the low breath you inhaled, a whiff of motor oil lingering on the breeze.

“Good as new. I gotta say, that old dog really outdid himself this time. Helluva job. Don’t think my carriage has ever looked even half this good!” He gave your a once over with a discreet flash of false superiority before dismissing you as he turned his attention back to Aerith. “‘Preciate it, kids. I can finally get the business back up and running again.”

“That’s great.” she said, “But before we head out, I just wanna ask one more thing. If we hadn’t showed up, would you have even tried to give your birds a better life?” You nodded with her question. Part of you was curious, or maybe hopeful, he had a suitable answer, but deep down you knew he didn’t. If there ever was a time to pull his shit together, it would’ve been when his chocobos livelihood had been jeopardized.

“Maybe.” Gabe shrugged, his lack of empathy and morality had you seething with a white hot rage.

“Not good enough.” you barked through grit teeth, hands clenching at your sides.

“I see, but I get it.” Your face morphing from angry to genuine bewilderment when Aerith’s words regarded him with honest understanding. What? “Shinra’s a big company- and what they say goes.” Your jaw loosened when you realized what she was doing. “I can’t blame you for being too scared to fight back.”

“Hey! I ain’t scared of those sons of bitches. Not one bit.” His rasp rising an octave in defense.

“Oh?” She asked, her voice laced in thick honeyed mockery as she caught him in her carefully spun web. “Then why did you shut down the business?”

“It’s like I told ya- my carriage broke- and getting the parts to fix it sounded like a real hassle, so. So there ya have it! I just… let it go.” The deep frown on your face slide up in a sly smirk. This is why you loved Aerith.

Despite his fumbling you still had a bone to pick. “So you’re birds aren’t worth the ‘hassle’?” The revulsion you harbored for this winkled leather bag seeping into your words. His posture grew rigid at being challenged, his jaw squaring with the effort to keep his mouth shut.

“How responsible…” Aerith sarcastically scolded.

“Okay, fine!” He screamed, his decibel making her flinch though she recovered quickly. “I shouldn’t’ve been so quick to throw in the towel! Ya happy? Starting today, I’m giving this job my all. I’ll stock up on parts so I can keep the carriage moving, and make sure my birds never get bored again.”

“You hear that?” Aerith addressed the distant chocobo near the carriage, before turning to you for confirmation. “Then the deal is sealed.” She shook Gabe’s hand.

With the job done each one of your companions broke off to stock up on anything they needed by the nearby store counter. Eventually it was just you and Gabe, the latter returning to a the carriage. He crouched down to inspect the wheel he had just replaced, the wrench in his hand tightening the jiggle of one of the bolts. You discreetly confirmed none of your friends were in earshot before you stalked over to him. You hovered above him, your voice lowering and taking on a sharp dangerous pitch you only used on rare the occasion you needed to intimate a selfish prick. “Aerith might believe you turned over a new leaf, but if I find out you quit on those birds again, I won’t be so forgiving next time.”

“Yeah? And who the hell asked you? Old Bill send you to scare me?” He huffed and threw the wrench onto the ground the metal clinking roughly against the dirt. “Guy nev’r could mind ‘is own business.”

You sank to his level to glaze straight through his uncaring eyes to the pit of his rotten soul. “I don’t work for Bill.” You spat. “I save chocobos, and the next time you throw in the towel and just let them suffer because it’s ‘a hassle’ will. be. your. last.” You seethed enunciated the consonants of the last three words very clearly before bouncing back up and on the balls of your heels and sauntered to the crumbling staircase only halting your descent when his slimy voice grated against your ear drums.

“Ya know, ‘ere’s this rumor about a jockey could read a bird ‘n get it ta do whateva she wanted. Choco Whisperer they called ‘er” He paused to pick the wrench back up and to continue to fiddle with the bolt. “Guess she was somethin’ real pretty, the jockey that is. Everyone wanted ‘er. Turns out she was sponsored by Choco Sam himself!” The blood in your veins ran down cold. “Gotta wonder how she got his attention, eh?” A sickly cackle had you turning back at him. His implication both horrifying you, and lighting a match to your unrivaled temper. “Guess it don’t matter though. Went missin’. Nobody knew why. Though people say its cause she almost killed ‘nother jockey.”

You gritted your teeth and swallowed your fury. It wouldn’t help anyone if you lost it here. “Your point?”

His prying eyes scanned your body, leaving you feeling dirty and uncomfortable. “Well that was round the time Ol’ Bill hired you, wasn’t it?” A smug toothy grin stretched across his face like he caught you red handed.

Your face didn’t betray the faux confidence as you held his challenging stare, though internally a frantic claw worked through your chest and settled in the pit of you guy. “Must be a coincidence.” You left then. You spent the last four year visiting ranches, and leave it to this bonehead to connect you to the harsh past of your jockeying days. You walked at a brisk pace away from him as the distance between you would rewrite your actions that night.

You tried so hard to leave your unique talents behind when you left the slums, but that night four years ago, the underlying atrocity in you surged. You didn’t regret it, not in the slightest, and you’d do it again if it meant keeping that poor girl, or anybody, safe.

It didn’t happen like he was implying, and thanks to the security cameras in the gilded stall room saved your reputation.

You had stumbled into the stable to check on the chocobo you had raced an hour prior, it was an intense obstacle course and you were worried about a prolonged fatigue might effect your partner, only to find the one jockey you couldn't stand already within. You thought nothing of it at first. You tried to avoid him when possible. You had heard rumors he couldn't keep his hands to himself, and while the other women might not, or couldn't, fight him off you would never let anyone touch you like that again. Not ever. So you were brushing your bird when an unsettling ruffling of clothing caught your attention. As you strained your ears to assess what was going on you realized he wasn't alone. You still hear her cries as she pleaded with him to stop like yesterday. The dark creeping fingers still echoed across your skin as you watched her try to push him off, but she was frail and he was far too strong. Hells, he was twice your size.

There was no way on Gaia you were just going to watch him take advantage of her. So you took care of him. You applied extreme force to his joints, and pressure points before he even turned around. He crumpled to the floor in complete sobs, but you didn't stop there. You crushed his femur, and the hand that he had snaked under the woman’s blouse. He was far from death when you left him, but you later found out from Sam that you had damaged the ligaments in his arms and he needed emergency surgery to save his leg.

You turned yourself in immediately, completely mortified with yourself, however even though you were protecting someone you were no longer permitted to jockey. The saucer had made an exception that aloud you to remain employed, but only to train and care for the chocobos. Which you still do from time to time, but you make sure you never stay for too long. He was completely disqualified ever work at the saucer again. The last you heard, he had recover and took up a residence in the Dustbowl and make a living betting on the races.

Suddenly your arm collided with a solid wall of muscle, your eyes snapping up to the swirling mako pools peering down at you. His scrutiny was unclear, and stormy in a whirlwind you haven’t seen in them before, though you hadn't had the energy to decipher their meaning. The only thing repeating in your head was the fear that he overheard what Gabe had said.

“Y/n, you alright?” His timbre was smooth and calm that soothed the overwhelming emotion bubbling beneath your skin.

You swallowed the thick lump that had formed in your throat. “Uh… yeah. I’m fine. Sorry. Lost in thought.”

Cloud hesitantly stepped backwards to give you more space. “Alright.” His hand hovered in the air, the concern in his eyes trying to convey something to you that his lips couldn't speak. You gave him a tight lipped smile before you staggered away to stock up on your own supplies.

Cloud looked back at Gabe with hardened eyes, a compelling since of protection urging him to take action. He only wished he knew what the right action was. He’d spent the past sixteen days trying his best not to notice you, but he’s done the exact opposite. He quickly realized you were quick to act, your reflexes like lightning, before he’d even seen you in action. You ability to perceive danger and avoid any harm was a skill he so rarely seen in others, and the way you moved in combat was like art. Your body swaying between fiends, only leaving death in your wake, was like the perfected ballet of Loveless- he’d reluctantly seen when he had first enlisted at Shinra. To see you fogged over and dazed was unsettling. You looked so empty like a night without stars, and felt just as cold as the northern continent, that he nearly followed after you. To do what, he didn't know but when he looked into your glassy far off eyes, his heart clenched like someone had ripped into his chest and squeezed.

He continued to watch you from afar, and you seemingly returned to normal. You gave Tifa a long hug, and bantered with Aerith like always. You returned Barret’s playfully punches by trying to push him over, before you finally took a seat and the old blue bench with Red, giving him a few scratched behind his ear as you waiting for everyone else. You appeared to be just fine so why was the bleak feeling still lurking with in him, and why was the only thing he wanted to do was to wrap his arms around you and hold you close until whatever pain or sadness you felt disappeared?

[heartbeatan]

The Art of Revenge (Chapter 2)

Return to Chapter 1.

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Jungkook Fanfictions.

Return to One Nights Series.

Return to Masterlist.

Chapter 2

Two days ago, you walked in on Chris and Stephanie. You had spent the next day visiting your lawyer, who was a friend of yours from college, preparing a formal eviction notice for Chris, since you weren’t common law and your name was the only one on the deed. When you pulled up to the tiny curbside firm, it was clear by the unsurprised and sympathetic way she greeted you that she had heard the news. You visited a realtor, who was also a friend of yours, and it was clear she knew too. Word had obviously spread around your circle of friends. Nonetheless, she started the paperwork to put your home on the market - since you wanted nothing more than to escape the image of the deflowering of your kitchen. You also went about canceling everything you possibly could cancel about the wedding, pocketing every last cent that hadn’t been put towards the deposits.

By the late afternoon, you returned to the hotel room - not daring to stop by your house, knowing Chris would be there waiting for you. Instead, you looked to your phone again to find your email inbox ransacked, which could only mean one thing… the mothers had been informed. They had clearly received some sort of hint of infidelity, but had somehow warped themselves into a mindset that you were somehow responsible, and even more so irresponsible for not telling anyone where you were. Chris and Stephanie had clearly been yapping to get ahead of the scandal. It baffled you how two people who betrayed you would so shamelessly air their crimes to the whole damn town. It was yet another prompt to just power down your device. Last thing you needed was some bullshit lecture on how to save face by continuing to live a lie. There was some relief in your inbox, however. Your rapid STD test came back clean.

You sprawled your body across the bed, groaning as your sore muscles and joints stretched over the flat mattress. You were exhausted, and mindless - yet you also found yourself to be incredibly restless.

You were afraid of that moment - the moment when you stopped moving, and would once again be alone with your own thoughts. You feared your mind would be swarmed with the images of what you had seen in your kitchen, or would obsess over every little detail of your past that your paranoia could twist into signs of this affair. You didn’t know if it had been going on for weeks, months, or years, or if you had walked in on a one-night stand. But it didn’t really matter, your soul didn’t seem to care. Surprisingly, instead of thinking about them, all you could think about was Jungkook.

You had told him you would be up there in three days. It was at least a day's drive to get to him, and you had wanted time to get your break-up affairs in order before you made the long trek. But laying there, ignoring the list of things you still had to do, all you could think of was how you could escape. How he could help you escape.

You looked at your phone again, now noticing the condolence messages flooding your inbox from the effects of the town’s gossip line. You ignored them too, and pulled up Jungkook’s number.

You didn’t call him this time, you decided on a text.

Y/N: Is it alright if I come tomorrow instead of Friday? 8:49 PM JK: Of course. Text me when you’ve got an ETA. 8:49 PM

You hesitated about what to say next - unsure of how you were supposed to sign-off after you rescheduled your revenge dick appointment. You settled on a thumbs-up, and decided not to care if it was the wrong answer. You were supposed to be out of this Tinder-esq stage of your life, so you balked at the idea of diving right back in and learning the day's latest formalities. When Jungkook replied with a winky face, you felt the corner of your lips tug into a faint smile. It was strange… you were used to smiling everyday… but in the short past 26 hours you had spent miserable, you felt like you had forgotten how to. But somehow, a simple emoji from a man you hardly knew was breaking you back in.

You looked at the clock. It was already dark outside, and Jungkook was at least a fourteen hour drive away. The wise thing would be to go to sleep, and leave first thing in the morning. But again… nothing you were doing was wise. You were impulsive, and angry, and vengeful… and restless…

Without thinking much about it, you peeled yourself from your bed, padded your way into the bathroom to take a shower - and within the hour, you were packed up and checked out of your hotel room, on the highway north towards Jungkook’s remote town.

You drove through the night, and stopped early morning at a discount store in one of the passing villages. You didn’t have much with you - just the clothes on your back, and the bag of honeymoon lingerie which you had picked up on your way back home when you discovered the affair. It had been mocking you the whole ride with its no-return presence. Regardless, if your night with Jungkook was going to go as planned, clothes weren’t going to be a necessity, so you didn’t need much. You grabbed some $8 leggings, a few $3 tank tops, deodorant, toothbrush, hairbrush, razors, and underwear. You would have liked to grab something sexy, but there wasn’t much the discount bins offered in terms of intimates, and your bridal lingerie felt too perverse to wear.

As you rolled into the final hour of your trip, a mysterious feeling began to crawl through your system. All the negative energy from home and your relationships had been chasing you the whole way down the empty highway. But it was like those demons were blocked by an invisible salt line that guarded the border into Jungkook’s county. You were no longer angry, or bitter, or sad. You were… excited. Excited in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. Excited in a way that only the prospect of pure, uninhibited, no-strings attached sex could bring you. Like those first few times with that college fuckbuddy of yours - before you caught your agonizing feelings for him. In all these years, you hadn’t let yourself fantasize about Jungkook - even though deep down you wanted to. Thinking about him that way ironically felt like a betrayal to Stephanie. But now you could let those flood gates open. You wondered what kind of lover he was. Was he sweet? Rough? Both? Did he talk dirty? Have kinks? Did he like pleasuring women or did he use them like his personal fuck toy? What kinds of noises did he make when he slipped his cock into a woman? Did his body twitch and pulse when he came? As a person, he had always been such a mystery to you, and since Stephanie had never hooked up with him, he was a mystery as a lover as well - a mystery you were about to uncover. The purpose of fucking Jungkook was to leave Stephanie a jealous, spiteful mess on the floor, but it would be even more karmic if the man had the power to fuck you into forgetting she existed at all.

So, that’s how you found yourself parked on the shoulder of the highway, staring at your engagement photo, just thirty minutes away from Jungkook’s house.

you had another million missed calls, the most recent being from your step-mother. You hadn't heard a thing from your father, so you figured she was acting as his agent. He would be worried, you knew that, but he wasn't great at having difficult conversations, so you weren't surprised that she was the one calling you - but you were nonetheless disappointed. Before calling her back, you decided to check her last email to gauge where she currently stood.

It was a mistake...

She ranted about how you needed to forgive Chris, and how if you didn't, you would be expected to reimburse her and your father for all they had expended on your wedding - which was nothing... She must've been referring to hotel deposits and her dress.

"Bitch," you muttered into the car, just as a truck whizzed by you on the highway. You scrolled through a few more notifications, assessing their general context by the first few paragraphs which were visible from the homepage, but ultimately decided that you would continue to ice everyone out for a few more days. Then you came to the winky face...

Jungkook.

You hadn't spoken to him since the rescheduling the night before. That was probably stupid on your part. He likely expected you to arrive early evening, but since you had impulsively decided to drive through the night without sending word, you were now only thirty-minutes away, and he might not even be home, nonetheless awake.

You typed out a simple message, letting him know how close you were, then hovered over the send button as you questioned whether or not you should send it. You thought about finding another motel room and just holding up there until the afternoon – maybe take a well needed nap. You also thought again about just turning around and leaving this place and Jungkook all together.

Your phone sprang to life, as Chris' name popped onto the screen with an incoming call. You sighed, forgetting about your Jungkook dilemma, now focusing on the should-I-finally-talk-to-Chris crisis. What could he possibly say? Was he going to leave you for Stephanie, or was he going to try to make this right? How could he even begin to make this right? Did you want him to make it right? Had you worked out what you wanted to say to him?

After the fourth ring, you swiped the "pick-up" button, and put the phone to your ear. You didn't greet him, but you didn't really need to, because Chris' voice immediately began to call to you through the receiver.

"Y/N? Y/N are you there?" he asked repeatedly, his voice strained and remorseful.

Good, you thought. You were happy to hear his agony. Regardless, you felt the urge to hang right back up, figuring things could only go downhill from there. But you didn’t. Instead, you waited silently on the other end, feeling your breath begin to lengthen and tighten in a seething hiss. You didn't want to say anything, didn't want him to have the privilege of hearing your voice, but as he pleaded and begged for you to give him some indication you were listening, you eventually responded.

"I'm here."

"Babe, I'm so sorry! Please come home, I can explain everything."

You rolled your eyes. What on earth was there to be explained? He had sex with another woman, just a month away from your wedding. "You can explain now. You have 3 minutes."

He choked, a clear sign that he wasn't prepared to actually explain anything. "Please, we should talk face to face. I'll come to you, just tell me where you are - everyone is so worried about you."

You then felt a new rage bubble up inside. The only reason why “everyone was worried” was because Chris had the nerve to spread your humiliation across town before you even had the chance to process it. You swallowed, trying to keep your words from escaping your lips in screams.

"Exactly why is everyone worried about me, Chris?"

He paused again, hearing the venom in your voice, and realizing he was treading into dangerous territory he hadn't anticipated. "Because, um, they know you're upset."

"And how would they know I was upset, Chris? I certainly didn't tell anybody that you were caught fucking my best friend."

"I… we… We were just worried about you, that's all. We were calling around, trying to find out where you had gone so we knew you were all right.”

You felt your face heat. We. He was talking about him and Stephanie as a "we" now? On top of that, he was seriously suggesting you would become "unsafe" because of them? Like they had that sort of power over you? You were utterly insulted by the implication. If you could've teleported yourself in front of them both right then, you would show them exactly how "unsafe" you could become. But you couldn't...

You looked at your surroundings, appreciating the remote, frontier feelings you got from the old, tall green trees and rocky landscape before you. You were miles away from Chris, and Stephanie, and your stepmother, and everyone who either pitied you or blamed you. You were not far from a man whom you hardly knew, but somehow you knew he wouldn’t pigeonhole you into either of those categories... He just wanted to fuck - that thought made you smile and caused a naughty tingle to reverberate through your guts.

"Please, Y/N," Chris pleaded with you. "I love you. I want to marry you. This was just a stupid mistake. It only happened once and it'll never happen again, I swear. Just come home, and I'll answer any questions you have."

You placed the phone on the dashboard and set it to speaker. You then began shuffling through your bag to find your emergency makeup products. "I'm not coming home,” you announced. “I'm up north."

"Why?" he asked. The confusion in his voice painted a clear picture in your mind of the stupid look he currently had on his face.

"I'm visiting Jungkook. You remember him. Your brother's friend."

"Your..." he stuttered again. He was seriously confused now. That name would have been the last thing he'd have expected to hear. "Why are you visiting him?"

You flipped down the mirror and began inspecting yourself, applying a light stain to your lips. With your limited supplies, there wasn’t much else you could correct about your appearance, but pretending to fix yourself up felt like something a powerful, cold-hearted seductress in a movie would do, and that was the confidence you craved right then.

"Because," you chirped as you gently wiped away the errant line of your lip colour, "I called him."

The phone went silent, and you smiled menacingly as you imagined how tortured Chris was becoming.

He started to say one thing, then stopped, then tried to ask something else, then stopped, until finally he settled on asking simply, "Why him?"

You considered telling him the real reason: to get back at Stephanie. But you decided since Jungkook was also irritating Chris, you wanted to twist the dagger.

"I just really needed someone to talk to,” your tone was condescending, and laced with implication – just enough for Chris to understand that sex was a possibility, but enough nuance to drive him crazy wondering if you were really going to fuck another man.

“I didn’t think you two were friends,” Chris said after a beat.

“Well, it didn’t take a lot of convincing on his part. I guess he wants to get to know me better.”

The moment you said it, your insides began to flutter. You and Jungkook were going to get to know each other better – you were just going to get to know each other better in the biblical sense. The notion somehow granted you a modicum of relief from your anger, and replaced the gap with erotic excitement. You were now bored of this conversation with Chris, and you knew now that you weren’t going to be checking into another motel room.

“Please, Y/N, don’t do this,” Chris spoke slow, and his voice shook. You were impressed that he wasn’t angry, and glad that he was hurting. “We can fix this. I will do anything. I love you. Please just come home.”

You took a deep inhale, then exhaled long and slow. You really had no idea what you should be doing. Was turning the car around and hearing Chris out the "right thing to do?" Was throwing away your two-year relationship too rash? Was fucking another man for revenge too ruthless and reckless? You really didn’t know the answer to what you should do – but you did know what you wanted to do…

“Goodbye, Chris,” you said, clicking the end call button. Before Chris had the chance to call you back, you dialed Jungkook’s number, and were pleased when he picked up on the second ring.

“You on the road?” he asked, not bothering with the formality of a hello.

“I drove all night,” you announced without a hint of remorse. “I’m half an hour away.”

“Mm,” Jungkook hummed in amusement, and you weren’t quite sure what it meant.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all. It’s a welcomed surprise.”

You bit your lip, unsure if he was flirting with you or pacifying you. “I just couldn’t sleep last night. I know, I seem insane.”

“No, you don’t,” he said. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want. I’m just… glad what you’re doing is working out in my favour.”

You bit harder on your lip as the corner of your mouth fought to wind up into a grin. He was definitely flirting, and it felt pretty damn good.

“Here I thought it was you who was doing me a favour.”

“Ha!” he laughed, and a part of you wished you were there to witness it. You hadn’t seen a lot of his smile over the years – but on the rare occasions that you did, you found it to be infectious. “Well… we haven’t done anything yet. So, how about you get here, and we can sort out whose reaping the greater benefits.”

Your face and shoulders scrunched as you felt the onset of a giddy blush. “Sure. I turn left at the mill, right?”

“Yeah. You want me to meet you so you don’t get lost?”

“No, no. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Alright. Call me if you need help and I’ll come find you.”

“Thanks,” you said, then paused as you once again wondered how to end your communications with this man. “See you soon then I guess.”

“Yeah. I look forward to, uh... seeing you,” he responded, rounding the words with salacious implication. Then he hung up.

You reached into your shopping bag for your deodorant, some wipes, toothbrush, and one of your new tank tops – desiring a costume change and a little freshening up in case you got to Jungkook’s house and things got hot and heavy quickly. Your phone rang a few more times while you did, and you ignored it. You didn’t care who was calling or what they had to say. You also didn’t care that you had flashed a pick-up truck full of redneck frat boys as you switched out your top.

Quickly enough, you were back on the road, powering along the highway feeling refreshed in every sense. Your bitterness was gone, your libido was in full swing, and your pits no longer smelled like you had spent 14 hours in a car.

The road into Jungkook’s house was basically a narrow, dirt path, and you had to drive rather slowly to avoid the potholes and forest debris – but it was difficult to keep a slow pace, since your heart was pounding a mile faster with each passing minute. You were relieved when you recognized the turn into his hidden driveway, and you felt your knuckles relax over the steering wheel as your car crested into the clearing, and his cabin-esq house came into view. You crawled the car into what looked like a parking space. You wanted to take another minute, or two, or twenty, to sit in your car and hype yourself up to just get out. But Jungkook would surely know you were there already. The front of his vaulted home was mostly comprised of floor to ceiling windows, which looked out over the lawn and valley far beyond the tree line. You already looked insane for calling him, propositioning him, then driving through the night – you didn’t need to become another untouchably sweaty mess while you physically and emotionally melted down in his driveway under the hot spring sun. So, you grabbed your shopping bag, which you had stuff with all your present belongings, exited the car, and walked up to his front door.

You stood on the stoop, staring at the door as you took another heavy breath, then reached forward to ring the bell. The house was quiet from inside for a long time, making you worry he was going to force you to ring the bell again. But eventually, you heard the soft padding of movement as someone crossed the floor towards the front door. You heard the click of the doorknob, the snap of the sticky weatherstripping as the door broke away from the frame, and then… he was there.

Jungkook, standing tall and solid before you, with every ounce of his sex appeal on display. He had changed in so many ways since the last time you saw him. His face was sharper and more masculine. His arm which was once covered in dainty tattoos was now covered from wrist to shoulder in an array of heavy ink and colour. He was bigger… everywhere. The simple act of holding his door open put his solid biceps and the veins that traced his forearms on full display. His neck was thicker, and the solid plains of his chest were noticeable beneath his plain white t-shirt. Hell, it was possible he even grew taller – you felt tiny in his shadow. His hair was longer than you had seen it before – almost shoulder length, the top half held back in the epitome of an artist’s bun, aside from long strands which acted as bangs to fall carelessly into his eyes.

You stopped breathing for a millisecond. Not long ago you thought you were nearly invisible to this man. Yet, in your time of need, this Adonis had invited you of all people to his home and promised you an exchange of unadulterated pleasure.

He looked you over, just as you looked him over – but his face gave away nothing, whereas yours you were sure gave away everything. He may have changed in many ways since the last time you saw him, but his impassive, signature nonchalance was still very much present. Or was it? For just a brief moment, your eyes locked, and you thought you saw heat burning behind his cool-guy visage. You really hoped that’s what you were seeing. Fucking this man would be great, you were sure, but being truly desired by him would be fucking magnificent.

After a silent moment between you - one you were surprised wasn’t at all awkward - he stepped aside, making way for you to enter his home. Without a word between you, you stepped across the threshold, and into the foyer as Jungkook closed the door behind you.

Go to Chapter 3.

[revclations]

open to: @angeldcgs

featuring: jude welch, forty-four, bisexual but closeted, catholic priest, he/him.

plot: after their encounter at the library, jude invites winnie to his home that night to properly discuss the terms of their new relationship, and how they are going to hide it from the rest of the town.

that particular morning, jude had woken up feeling as light as a feather. he still hadn't fallen back in favour with winnie, he'd kept his distance and kept his thoughts as pure as possible. he had every intention of keeping his word and saving both of them from any more heartache as a result of their sinful divergence. it seemed to be going fine, that was until he spotted her with perhaps the dullest boy in town and a jealousy dead for years resurrected within him. he wasn't proud of how he'd acted, so cold towards winnie for no reason other than her moving on exactly like he'd wanted her to, and yet it was that regret that had softened him and allowed for that next step in their relationship to blossom. if he hadn't been so standoffish, they wouldn't have had to shelter away in the library in an attempt to calm winnie's sudden influx of emotion, and she wouldn't have had the opportunity to corner him and press for an answer about their relationship. his isolation from her had allowed him to pretend as though everything was fine, like he hadn't spent the last few weeks dedicating his every waking thought to her, he could act as though that night in the church had cured him of his fatal flaw but not to her face. as it turned out, he wasn't nearly as strong as he'd hoped he could be, and accepting that was surprisingly easy in comparison to the struggle of holding his head high in the face of his monstrous want. they'd succumb to their desires once again but it was different that time, they were being honest not only with each other but with themselves about what they wanted. jude couldn't deny winnie, that much was clear and once they'd cleaned up and made themselves presentable to return out back to the festivities, the priest suggested that they find some time to actually discuss what they were going to do now that they'd claimed dedication to each other. it was dangerous to sneak around but it was worth it, it had to be otherwise the risk would be too great. if someone saw winnie heading towards his home they could make up an excuse, people wanted to trust him more than anything but it brought him great discomfort to lie, it would be better if they could avoid any questions altogether. once it was dark, jude waited anxiously in his living room for the young woman's arrival, pacing back and forth across the tattered blue rug, a gift from the priest who had served before him, until a quiet knock brought his attention back from his thoughts. he didn't dare ask if anyone had seen her, it was easier in the moment to fake comfort till it felt real and instead invite winnie in with a hand laid on the small of her back as she scurried past him.

[scratchandplaster]

FEBUWHUMP 2023 DAY 6 - Secrets revealed

CW: recapture, mentions of a cult, reference to non-con touch (non-sexual), drugging, alcohol, Whumpee being awkward

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The bass nearly deafened all other noise surrounding them. He took two full hours to let his longing gaze finally turn into a pickup line, a stuttered mess about fallen angels or whatever corny phrases he googled beforehand. He had thoroughly prepared for this, even written it down on his forearm to not mess it up.

Embarrassing, but she still laughed. Maybe about him, but she did nonetheless, until they laughed together.

Now their bodies were moving closer on the dance floor, basking in the beats drumming from the speakers, which acted as an ever thinning layer between them. Everything around them was like a new taste hammering onto his senses: the music, the drinks, the people…

God, he didn't know any of them, different faces hitting his eyes like a refreshing splash of water, clearing his view. Everything adding up to outline the person now mere inches away from him, inviting him closer to dance, to touch-

He waited so long for this, to finally decide for himself when and how he would show his affection. But there was something that stopped him from moving closer, a very familiar sensation: Fear.

"So what are you looking for tonight?", she practically screamed into his face, when his movements started to turn into more of a tense flinching than anything else.

"Umm...just some company." he replied nervously, probably way too quiet, judging by her lost expression.

Instead of sputtering further, she pulled him by his sleeve and off to the side, between the cocktail bar and the toilets.

Very nice, I bet the stench of piss will make me look more sympathetic, he thought with a sour expression.

Careful to pull his cheap dress shirt down to cover the notes, that were currently getting smeared around by a combination of sweat and iridescent glitter, he felt like the biggest idiot in town.

"Um… I thought about getting one of those," he pointed at an electric blue chalice of unknown contents, currently held by a woman dressed in the shortest skirt he'd ever seen. It looked like the fur of some animal. 

A tiger maybe, he pondered, or a cheetah, they are known for-

"Ah, yeah. They're great. Ever had one?" The little reflective umbrella on top almost waved at him.

"No, but if you recommend them, I'm sure I'll like it!"

Her round face turned avid at that comment. Dragging herself through the crowd, she made her way up to the counter. He continued to look for her between the illuminated shapes that swayed and jumped all around him, using her glitter-freckled skin and wild red hair as an anchor in this unfamiliar environment.

It was calming to know that he didn't waste his evening tucked away in a corner watching, like he used to often enough.

Don't be such a freak, act normal, the desperate voice in his head kept yelling at him. It never revealed something new, even when following him across state lines.

Lifting his gaze off the bar, he took the time to take in the view. Hundreds of people, all different in the most unique ways he'd ever seen: hair, clothing, make up. Now collected in one place for the sole purpose of having fun, being free to express that in any way they liked. He still wasn't part of that mob, but gradually learned how to better take part in this life, the life he always wanted. Finally, finally being on his own, escaping his so-called life and moving far away to start living-

"This is a Blue Lagoon," she explained, ripping him away from his line of thought.

She leaned against the wall holding a bulbous glass in each hand, gradually moving one towards him. Bright liquid sloshed around inside the glass and made the ice cubes softly clink against each other.

"I can't wait for you to try it!" she kept on going, all the while the nauseating presence at the back of his neck started to make itself even more present, "But be honest, it's not for everybody."

Danger. Danger. Danger.

"Mhh...can we...can we maybe switch?" he finally pressed out.

A long stretch of silence followed, he could see her face gradually starting to lose its smooth features. He was not able to place the expression that slowly turned her smile into a grimace of aversion...disgust even? He knew that he ruined it, every chance of living out here was just a thinly veiled lie.

You know where you belong, don't fool yourself.

Wordlessly shrugging, she outstretched her other hand, now holding nearly the same drink as before.

Stop acting like an asshole was the only thought left in his mind, as the thick tension between them was getting worse and worse by the second.

"Sorry," he tried in a last attempt to save himself from being ridiculed, "I just really like the green one."

His fingers grabbed the drink out of her hand, the cursed quiet between them slowly began to dissolve, as her eyes started to widen with insight.

"It's okay, really. It's not a big deal." She looked down at her own glass, decorated with a purple umbrella tucked between an orange slice and a maraschino cherry, and back at him.

"Suits you. So, what are you doing here in Nashville? You don't look like a tourist."

Tell her something, don't be a fucking idiot.

What was he supposed to say: Escaping a cult in Cincinnati? Google didn't encourage that kind of chit-chat.

"Just visiting an old friend." Come on, keep it going.

"Sounds fun!" It was apparent that she was trying her hardest not to turn around and dump him on the spot. A beat of uncomfortable silence started to announce itself again.

"Thank you for being so patient with me, I'm not really great at this kind of conversation," he admitted at last, slowly sipping the alien liquid through the funny shaped straw. Being honest was the least he could do.

A sudden punch of sugary alcohol hit him, making his nostrils burn from the inside out and letting him cough like a high schooler trying their first beer. It truly was great.

"That's alright," she smiled, followed by a quick wink and slurp of her own drink, "It's not the small talk I'm here for."

--------

"I'm so glad I met you tonight."

They hadn't stopped after one cocktail, he could feel the fruity aromas the bar had offered them still enclosing his tongue. She showed him all her favorites, each coming with their own ornament he secretly put into his pocket, evidence of his adventures.

Now, sitting on the passenger's seat of her old Ford Fiesta, he never felt so free in his life.

"Me too, I waited so long for this!" he breathed through a pleasant shiver, the tingly heat all across his body slowly sinking deeper into his bones. She sat on his lap, straddling him while holding his heavy head between her palms. The copper curls framing her sparkling blue eyes lovingly stared back at his, searching his gaze.

He hugged her waist softly, dragging them both close once again, but not moving down any further. He would never do anything she wouldn't request, exactly as he hoped he would be treated.

She would stop; if I'd tell her that I didn't like it, she would stop.

A notion he never had dared to think back then.

The little voice that mocked him for a good part of the night finally shut up, being replaced by the bliss now warming him from the inside. His vision had long turned fuzzy from the vodka or whatever juice the barkeeper had filled them up with, little black dots dancing up the in the air like TV static. Motionless in their embrace, they remained. She was better than any company he could have hoped for.

"Oh, I have to pay you back still-" he slurred, his hands suddenly breaking contact with her soft skin to fumble for his wallet, "...the drinks, y´know?"

His fingers tucked at the zipper of his fleece jacket, but slipped every time they got a hold of the little slider. If he'd known that being wasted would make him this weak, he would have abstained from one Malibu Sunset...

But only one!, he silently smiled to himself.

"Don't worry about that," she whispered, her weight lifted off his thighs as she placed herself back into the driver's seat, "I just hope you had fun tonight."

He did, but couldn't find the strength to tell her that. His mouth wasn't moving on his command anymore, he felt himself weightlessly sinking into the darkness creeping in at the corners of his heavy-lidded eyes.

"We all missed you so much!", was the last thing he heard before gently drifting towards the void of unconsciousness, thinking nothing at all.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Febuwhump 2023 Masterlist]

@febuwhump

[deancodedinthewater]

Shadow Part 2

“Sam! Is that really you?” Meg yelled as she threw her arms around his neck, having to jump to reach, and pulled him down to her height. “Oh my God!” Sam really wasn’t sure what to make of her being her. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m just in town,” Sam said and then realised he probably needed more of a reason than that. “Visiting friends.”

Meg pulled away and glanced around, her brow pinching as she frowned. “Where are they?”

“Well, they’re not here right now,” Sam said, with an awkward laugh. “But what about you, Meg? I thought you were going to California.” Sam could feel Dean hovering at his shoulder.

“Oh I did,” Meg said and she gave Sam the same exact lecherous grin Dean gives him when he’s been... Well, Sam didn’t want to think about that. “I came, I saw, I conquered.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh, and I met- what’s his name? Something Michael Murray at a bar.”

“Who?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” Meg said, dismissively waving her hand. “Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I’m living here for a while.”

Over Sam’s shoulder, Dean cleared his throat. Sam and Meg both ignored him.

“You’re from Chicago?”

“No, Massachusetts- Andover,” Meg replied. “Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we’d run into each other?”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam said, he was actually running the odds in his head and it was getting less and less likely the more he thought about it. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Well, I’m glad you were wrong,” Meg said, with a bright smile that had Sam nodding and smiling back at her. Dean cleared his throat again, louder. Meg glanced over at him. “Dude, cover your mouth.”

“Sorry, Meg,” Sam said, stepping to the side so Dean could be included. Sam caught sight of his brother dropping back to his actual height out of the corner of his eye. Had Dean been standing on his tiptoes so he could look over Sam’s shoulder? “This is- This is my brother, Dean.”

Meg’s eyes went wide. “This is Dean?” she asked, mouth agape.

“Yeah,” Sam said, glancing sideways at his brother.

“So,” Dean said, with a grin. “You’ve heard of me?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard of you,” Meg said, folding her arms and glaring at Dean. And really, if looks could kill Sam would be scraping his brother’s corpse off of this bar's floor. “Nice-” she looked him up and down. “-the way you treat your brother like luggage.”

Sam flinched as hurt passed over Dean’s face. His fist circled his heart in the most heartbroken sorry Sam had ever seen him do.

Meg barely noticed as she kept ploughing through. “Why don’t you let him do what he wants to do?” she yelled, on her tiptoes now so she could yell right in Dean’s face. “Stop dragging him over God’s green earth!” She was gearing up to continue so Sam pushed his way between them.

“Meg, it’s alright,” Sam said, holding his hands up as if he was calming a startled horse. Meg backed down but all 5’3” of her was still raring for a fight.

“Okay, awkward,” Dean said, rocking back on his heels. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna go get a drink now.” He shot Sam a look that portrayed far more hurt and confusion than Sam ever wanted to cause in his brother, before he made his way over to the bar.

“Sam, I’m sorry,” Meg said, her frame softening. “It’s just- the way he treats you... if it were me, I’d kill him.”

“It’s alright,” Sam said and he couldn’t help the way his eyes cut across the bar to Dean’s hunched form as he perched himself on a bar stool. “He means well.”

Meg nodded, giving in. “Well, we should hook up while you’re in town.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed.

“I’ll show you a hell of a time,” Meg said, wiggling her eyebrows again.

“You know what, that sounds great,” Sam said, he pulled his phone out and tried to redirect his uncomfortable energy into typing on it instead of bouncing. “Why don’t you- why don’t you give me your number?”

“312-555-0143,” Meg recited from memory.

“You know what, I never got a last name.” And that totally wasn’t obvious. Sam was proud of himself for that. He’d definitely gotten better at subtly asking for information since he’d done pre-law.

“Masters.”

“Masters?”

“So, you better call,” Meg said, pointing at him in mock anger.

“Scout’s honour,” Sam replied, holding his hand up in the scout’s salute despite not having been one.

“I hope to see you around, Sam,” Meg said with a smile. She pointed to the bar over her shoulder with her thumb. “Maybe leave the ginger downer behind next time.”

-

Eventually, Sam had joined him at the bar and apologised for whatever her name was and they had made their exit.

“Who the hell was that?” Dean snapped as they crossed the parking lot.

“I don’t really know,” Sam said with a shrug. “I only met her once. Meeting up with her again? I don’t know, man, it’s weird.”

“And what was she saying? I treat you like luggage?” Dean turned till he was all but walking backwards so he could glare at Sam. “What, were you bitching about me to some chick?”

“Look, I’m sorry Dean,” Sam said, he signed as he said it. And Dean got the feeling that was meant to make it a more authentic apology. Or something. Not like circling your fist over your heart was difficult or anything. “It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that’s not important, just liste-”

“Well, is there any truth in what she’s saying?” Dean snapped, interrupting Sam. “I treat you like luggage? I mean, am I keeping you here against your will, Sam?”

“No, of course not,” Sam snapped back, emphatically. Dean’s steps faltered in surprise. He hadn’t actually expected that response. “Now would you listen?”

“What?”

“I think there’s something strange going on here, Dean.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Dean said, rolling his shoulders as he turned to face forwards again. “Nobody watched me as I left, tragedy.”

“No, man, I mean like our kind of strange,” Sam said, waving a hand between them. “Like, maybe even a lead.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road,” Sam explained. “And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don’t think that’s a little weird?”

“I don’t know, random coincidence?” Dean said with a shrug. “It happens.”

“Yeah, it happens,” Sam agreed. “But not to us.” And maybe he had a point. Their lives felt like a narrative sometimes. As if everything that happened had to relate to some as of yet unknown plot line that was hanging over their heads like a blade. “Look, I could be wrong, I’m just saying that there’s something about this girl that I can’t quite put my finger on.”

“Well, I’d bet you’d like to,” Dean said with a smirk. He nudged Sam in the ribs. “I mean, maybe she’s not a suspect. Maybe you’ve got a thing for her, huh?” Sam rolled his eyes but Dean kept teasing. “Maybe you’re thinking a little too much with your upstairs brain.” He tapped the side of his head and grinned.

“Maybe you don’t know shit, Dean,” Sam said and Dean felt like he might have hit a nerve. “Maybe I don’t get out as often as you because I don’t feel that way about people?” Dean’s eyes widened. He had actually hit a nerve. He hadn’t meant to do that.

“Sam, I’m-”

“Do me a favour,” Sam cut him off. “Check and see if there’s really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can’t dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith’s floor.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I’m going to watch Meg,” Sam said.

Dean laughed and resisted the urge to continue teasing properly. “Alright.”

Sam heard the teasing anyway. Probably what comes from learning to communicate silently. “Dude!”

“I’m going,” Dean said, throwing his hands up. “I’m going.” The car was parked across the street so Dean crossed it, shaking his head. He did hope Sam at least had some fun, even if it was just chatting with this Meg girl. He clearly liked her and if that meant bitching about him then Dean could deal with that. Maybe. He had no issues with it at all.

Who was he kidding? He’d absolutely hate it if Sam spent all his free time telling strangers how much he hated his brother. He hoped that wasn’t what Sam did.

“Dee,” Sam called back as Dean opened the driver’s door. “I’m gonna need the car.”

“You’re gonna make me walk back?” Dean asked, hand poised on the roof ready to swing into the driver’s side of the bench. Sam gave him that kicked puppy look and Dean sighed. If his brother bitched about him now he had a right to feel annoyed about it.

-

Dean had commandeered Sam’s laptop - maybe it was time he got his own? - and took over the little table in the kitchenette of their motel room to do research. He could do research. He already had some information. About the girl and the symbol. Which meant - check in with Sam. He grabbed his phone and dialled Sam’s number.

Sam picked up within three rings. “Hey.”

“Let me guess,” Dean said, teasing lilt to his voice though not quite going as far as he had earlier. “You’re lurking outside that poor girl’s apartment, aren’t you?”

“No,” Sam replied, too quickly. Dean waited, pointedly. Eventually, Sam changed his answer. “Yes.”

“You ever thought about asking her on a date?” Dean asked, half teasing and half genuine.

“Did you find anything on her or what?” Sam snapped. Dean grinned, spinning in his seat till he was facing the door instead of Sam’s laptop.

“Sorry, she checks out,” Dean answered with a shrug. “There is a Meg Masters in the Andover phone book. I even pulled her high school photo. Now, look, why don’t you go knock on her door and, I don’t know what nerds do, invite her to a poetry reading? Or whatever.”

Down the line, Dean heard Sam sigh and allowed himself a self satisfied smirk. Seemed he’d hit his mark with not pushing too much but still teasing his little brother. “What about the symbol? Any luck?”

“Yeah, that I did have some luck with,” Dean said, he wouldn’t admit that Bobby had been the one to point him in the right direction. He’d done most of the legwork himself, but without Bobby this would’ve taken so much longer to find. Dean made sure all his notes were in the right place and lifted up his journal so it was at the top of the pile. “It’s uh-” he flipped the page of doodles out of the way so he could see his actual notes. “-it turns out it’s Zorostrian. Very, very old school, like two thousand years before Christ. It’s a sigil for a Daeva.”

“What’s a Daeva?”

Dean skimmed through the notes on the page, wishing he had a little more organisation. “It translates to “demon or darkness,” he explained. “Zoroastrian demons. Rejected gods. They’re savage. Nasty attitudes - kind of like if Darth Maul was a shadow entity.”

“How’d you figure that out?”

“Give me some credit, man,” Dean complained. Okay, maybe the direction Bobby had pointed him in was Caleb. “You don’t have a corner on paper chasing around here.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sam asked, disbelief coming through loud and clear. “Name the last book you read.” The Two Towers.

Dean sighed in defeat. “Alright, I called Caleb. He helped me, alright?”

“Yeah,” Sam said and he sounded both self-satisfied and distracted.

“Anyway, here’s the thing,” Dean said, gesturing with his pen as if Sam could see him. “These Daevas, they have to be summoned. Conjured.”

“So, someone’s controlling it?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying,” Dean replied, throwing his free hand out to the side and accidentally dropping his pen. “And from what I gather-” He bent down and picked the pen up before he could accidentally kick it across the room. “-it’s pretty risky business, too. These suckers tend to bite the hand that feeds them. And, uh, the arms, and torsos.”

“What do they look like?”

“I can’t really get a concrete answer on that,” Dean explained, twirling his newly picked up pen in his fingers. “Nobody’s seen them for a couple of millennia. I mean summoning a demon that ancient? Someone really knows their stuff. I think we’ve got a major player in town. Now, why don’t you go give that girl I don’t know- a kiss on the cheek? Take her to a movie? Private strip-o-gram?”

“Bite me,” Sam replied.

“No, bite her. Don’t leave teeth marks though-” The line went dead. “Sam? Are you there?”

-

Sam shook his head as he dropped his phone on the bench and glanced up at Meg’s window again. Just as the light turned on and Meg walked across the pane in nothing but a black lace bra. Sam glanced away, trying to look at anything but her. But he found his eyes tracking her as she crossed the room, pulling on a t-shirt. He couldn’t name the feeling rolling in his gut but he knew it wasn’t sexual. He hadn’t known her that long so what was-

Someone cleared their throat at his window and Sam turned to find a woman standing just outside the car with a foul expression on her face. She flipped him the bird.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Sam tried to defend himself. “I’m just-”

“Pervert!” the lady yelled before storming away. For a moment all Sam could do was watch her in stunned silence. But then he heard Meg’s apartment building’s door open and he dropped down onto the bench. He peered up over the ledge of the door and watched as Meg crossed the street and made her way down the road. Once her back was turned, Sam sat up and got out of the car. He followed her.

At a seemingly abandoned building, Meg stopped and looked around. From just around a corner, Sam watched her open a camouflaged door hidden in the graffiti covered wall. As soon as she was inside, Sam followed her.

Once inside, Sam was faced with a set of stairs. There was nowhere else obvious that Meg could have gone so he climbed them. When he reached a door he tried it but it was locked and he had left Dean’s lock picking kit in the car. Sam glanced around, trying to find another way to get through when he spotted a broken down elevator, grate pulled aside just enough for him to squeeze through and start to climb. Inside there are decently spaced bars for foot and hand holds which made the climb less of a challenge.

Just above him, Sam could see an opening from another elevator gate. He pulled himself up until he could see through the grate into the room. It’s empty. A large space with equally big windows and nothing but a tiny altar table filling the space. Meg was there too. She crossed the room to the altar and picked up a goblet from the black altar, swirling her finger in whatever was inside. When she pulled her hand away blood dripped from the tip of her finger.

Meg spoke into the bowl but Sam couldn’t quite hear what she was saying. But then she spoke louder.

“I don’t think you should come,” she said. There was a pause. “Because the brothers, they’re in town. I didn’t know that-” she stopped as if interrupted and Sam realised whatever the goblet was she was using it to talk to someone. “Yes, sir.” She paused, listening to whatever was on the other side of that goblet of blood. “Yes, I’ll be here. Waiting for you.” Sam’s brow pinched as he watched her set down the goblet, blow out the candles and leave.

With Meg out of the room, Sam shuffled his way over to the wall, where the gate had been left unlatched. He hoisted himself up and into the room proper. When he approached the altar he found it decked in gruesome artefacts; human hearts, animal bones and other assorted witchcraft implements. But right in the middle, drawn in blood, was that same Zoroastrian  symbol that Dean had been researching.

“What the fuck?” Sam whispered.

Masterpost

[starredeclipse]

Home, Sweet Home: a story continuation

(warning blood! Wound mention: previous chapter link: here ) Spring didn’t know where he exactly was, he had no built in gps or map of the town, all he knew was the name of the town itself and that was about it. He knew her address now but he had no clear direction on how to find that address so the animatronic just kept on walking nervously, his eyes looked around the different houses, some houses had lights on inside but some did not. He came across a street corner where there was some signs “West Anderson Road?” Her home has west in the address but it wasn’t this road, he paused to think…..she’s just a kid….he didn’t see any bikes outside the pizzeria so his natural thought process told him that she walked here. A child isn’t going to walk miles upon miles to get someplace so he assumed that she had to live nearby…..so instead of turning he crossed the street and kept going straight, he had no clue if this was even the right direction.

Madison wasn’t awake right now, she was in and out of consciousness and her temperature was still flaring, maybe the cold of the outside would help break her fever? Though he sensed it wasn’t really cold enough, he just had to get her home no matter what…..but…..then what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just….leave her there by herself in a house where she had nobody to take care of her….he knew he wouldn’t really be needed at the pizzeria and….it just seemed like this kid needed him more.

Sure nobody asked this of him but he seemed to decide on his own that he would take care of her, he wouldn’t leave her like her parents did….whatever that exactly meant…..he knew it could mean two different things, both just as equally bad but one was more confusing then the other option. As he thought about things he walked, looking up at the stars that decided to shine, the sky was getting less dark now….within a hour the day would come in full swing….at least he guessed he had at least a hour, he could be wrong, he could only have a few minutes before the day revealed his presence to the neighborhood. The girl made a sound catching his attention as they started walking past a school “my….school” the rabbit paused as she fell back into unconsciousness for a little bit “School? Do you live near the school?” All he got was a “mhm” from her, so she went to school here…..that schools not very far from the pizzeria so…..the street she lives on has to be somewhere around here, he walked to the end of the road before he found another street sign “This way?” He turned going across the street, there was no cars out driving yet so he didn’t have to worry that much about watching for them.

As Spring walked he saw a few things, a gas station…..a small grocery store and a small doctors clinic…..didn’t Madison mention something about a local doctor? They weren’t open right now so he couldn’t just step in and get her some help but he felt he was on the right track as he looked at the street sign “This is the street” a sense of relief washed over him, he felt a little more confident but the sky was starting to turn more blue “I got to hurry” she walked more quickly looking at the house numbers as he went past, when he finally saw the right number he stopped and looked at the house, there was no car in the driveway. He walked closer making his way to the front door, he reached for the doorknob before giving it a turn and finding it was in fact locked, that wasn’t good…..what was he supposed to do now? he stood there for a moment before Madison stirred “Are we home yet?” She asked still burning up “Yeah we are but the doors locked” he could try breaking the door open but part of him felt like the kid might want a functioning door to her house, she moved reaching into her pocket and pulling out a key “Here” she gave him the key “Thanks” he inserted the key until one could here a click, he removed it and tried the doorknob again, this time the door opened and he went inside.

Spring closed the door behind them and proceeded to look at the house “hello?” Did her parents really just up and leave a kid by herself? He walked through the house until he found her bedroom “Your rooms nice” he found it only right to put Madison on her bed where she was more comfortable, when he sat her down he made sure to carefully move her to where she was laying on her stomach, she whined a bit but that was understandable……the medicine he gave her was probably wearing off now if it hasn’t already “It’s okay, it’s okay” he reassured as she moved her head more comfortably on her pillow, he went and took off her shoes, he placed her shoes under her bed so nobody would trip over them before be put his hand on her forehead and let his sensors calculate her temperature “It’s still high” he removed his hand “I need to get her fever to go down…” he paused before he went to the kitchen and rummaged around, he found a lack of contents in the kitchen, the only thing that seemed to be a normal amount was the food but as for all the other things you normally find in a kitchen there was a great lack of it besides a few things, he eventually found a wash rag in one of the hallway closets. Now he just needed cold water, he went back to the kitchen and turned on the sink, he was happy to see the water was still running.

He put the washrag under the water, he watched the water droplets fall off of his hand as if water itself couldn’t stick to it before he turned the water off, he rung out the washrag before he returned to Madison and placed it on her forehead “You just rest here, I’m going to…..” what could he do? “To see if I can find the number to that doctor, they weren’t open when I walked past them but maybe if I keep calling somebody eventually will pick up?” She opened her eye for a moment to look at him before she closed it again, he paused watching her for a moment before he left the room again, he went walking around and notice a lot of things were missing “They really just packed up and left….” He almost couldn’t believe it, he went rummaging through things until he found a list of phone numbers in the drawer of a table in the livingroom “Hopefully these are current numbers” he looked at the many labels and numbers until he found that clinics number so he gave it a call but nobody answered “Not open yet…” Spring went and put the list of numbers on the fridge with a magnet, though the magnet sort of stuck to him at first but it wasn’t very strong so he just pulled it off and put it on the fridge.

He looked at where he was standing “Now what?” What is one supposed to do until somebody picks up the phone? He went back to Madison checking her temperature again “Still hot” he took the washrag and cooled it down again with cold water, he placed it back on her forehead, wasn’t there medicine for fever? He hasn’t seen anything like that yet, he went back to rummaging but didn’t find any medicine in the house for fevers or even in general, no instead he found chores and things that needed to be done so he constantly bounced between doing the cleaning and calling the clinic, by the time anybody answered the phone he was already done with three different chores “Hello how can i help you?” The lady one the other end up the line greeted with a fake cheerfulness “Yes uhm” Spring didn’t know what to say so he just faked a story on the spot “This is Madison’s dad” did they even know who Madison’s dad even was? “My daughter got herself in some trouble and she got hurt and is now running a fever…” he paused and the lady said “So did you want to bring her in? We can make a appointment” he paused, no that wouldn’t work “Uhm actually can you do a home visit today? It hurts her whenever I move her and it seems serious” was Spring doing good so far? “How bad?” The lady asked so she would know the level of urgency that this needed to be scheduled under “Oh I don’t know…..needs stitch’s sort of bad maybe?” The lady on the other end paused “Stitch’s get done in clinic sir” yeah he was afraid of that “But I can’t come into the clinic, can’t it just be done here?” You could tell the lady on the phone didn’t want to deal with this “I’ll see what the doctor says, for now give me the address and I’ll give you a time that she’ll show up at” Spring gave the address before the conversation went on and he hung up since the call ended.

He went to go check up on Madison “Hey, I got through to the doctor, she’ll be coming by soon and we can get that wound taken care of” he got a tired grumble in response before he realized…..wait shouldn’t she be in school right now??? What day was it??? Drats! He left the room again and went to the number list before he called the school.

When somebody answered he told them that Madison was sick today and wouldn’t be going to school “Alright and how long should we expect her to be absent for?” He paused, how long did wounds like this take to heal??? “Two weeks” he decided that that was a safe number to go with “Sir your daughter is missing too much of school from the last time she was sick, she can only be gone for a week” that made the animatronic a bit angry, so what was he supposed to do if she wasn’t ready to go to school in a week??? “A weeks not long enough” Spring grumbled before he heard the lady sigh “It’s all we can give before you start getting into trouble” he was about to say something else but the lady hung up leaving him to be mad on his own, he decided to take his frustrations out on some more chores while he waited for the doctor to arrive, he wondered how he was going to do this without the doctor seeing him.

[tigorrrr]

𝗦𝗸𝗶𝗻-𝗗𝗲𝗲𝗽 || 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗧𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗔𝗿𝗺𝘀 𝗗𝗼?

           It was an early morning, shops in the street had yet to open for customers but the owners were already busy with preparations inside.

           Nejteri watched the boss of the ice-cream & drinks shop Lin Kuei jog across the quiet road, seems like he got here later than usual which wasn't like Bi-han to oversleep and have an unfocused look clouding his dark eyes.

           His employees were there in time though, preparing the breakfast menu in the kitchen and the tables but his startling presence threw them off their peaceful work as far as Nejteri could see through the big windows.

           At the sight of the shop had her taste buds yearn for some good coffee that would help her get through this day's deliveries. She'll get something before leaving to the next district of this town, is what she promised to herself. An Ice-coffee with whipped cream and ice-cream scopes really sound good right about now.

           Not being known for waiting, Nejteri had already opened her cargo van to reveal a horde of boxes of all sizes, as soon as she was inside she inspected the first boxes and began to move them out to Kenshi's door and his apprentice Tomáš will collect them whenever he'll have the time.

           Nejteri looked over the "千渡 タトゥー (Sento Tattoos)" sticker on the glass door before giving it a firm knock, but there was not ever a sign of a living soul.

           It is still early but when Kenshi Takahashi is expecting a delivery he's usually up and running with his apprentices around the shop. But if he wanted to sleep in today then good for him.

           A man usually meets her there ever two weeks or so to pick boxes of car parts for a carengineer that owns a shop that is around the corner and two blocks down and apparently he sometimes works there as a welder, he helped with boxes that are as big and heavy as her - Nejteri believes it's out of pity. He keeps telling her to wait for him but she never listened.

           She was already at the third box, a big one with a fragile sticker ordered by Tomáš himself. Maybe it's that mini-fridge he was relentlessly pleading his boss to order the last time Nejteri had visited for her appointment.

           Nejteri had to tilt the package to lift it against her chest, arms barely embracing it, and tucked it under her chin. Her already aching back strained as soon as she held up the weight, it was just a few kilos heavier than the heavy toddlers she carries each in one arm.

           An unexpected shake of the van had her nearly topping over other packages if she hadn't regained her balance quicky. Normal people would worry this was a sign of thieves trying to get in for the cargo or highjack the car but her sixth sense had her at ease, it even gloated that the sound of a familiar grunt confirmed its certitude.

           "You are quite stubborn, you know that?"

           Facing the tall man with a clear conscience and a tiny smile to match on her pursed lips, Nejteri took a step closer, the box bumping into his broad breast when he chose not to step away and instead his scowl of disapproval met her gaze head-on.

           Shao was a big man made 80-ish percent of sculpted muscles, he'd have towered over the cargo van if he weren't bent, folded arm on the hood supported his weight and Nejteri was at an eye level by standing in the trunk.

           With a balding haircut faded from sides to his cheek sideburns — it's said that bald men are scary, and he does look intimidating, that type you never have anything positive to say about at a first glance given his rough facial structure but there is a weird speck of charm about him. It could be the hooded eyes of brown like those of a teddy bear that makes one second-guess the feelings of first impressions of such a built guy.

           It's not that almost-two-meter tall Shao is one of those gym obsessed body-builders, or at least, not anymore, in a way, but he has some decent bulkiness in places that made his baggy clothes still look tight. He's an eye candy, Nejteri can admit as much but never had a thought of trying to lay hints she doesn't have the right mindset for things such as relationships.

           Juggling jobs and paying a debt occupies most of her thoughts, especially at night.

           Shao took the package from her hands and Nejteri didn't bother to even fuss about it, she stopped arguing about it just a month ago, it gets quite tiring after a while.

           "I told you to leave the heavy boxes to me." his lambasted Nejteri before he left to put the box with the rest by the tattoo shop's door. The package looked smaller in his hold, without the slightest of sweat he could carry it in one hand if he wants to show off.

           With a sigh and resignation easing tense muscles she returned to the boxes. "I'm a big girl, Shao, I'm used to lifting things that are alike to ya. 'Sides, what if ya'd get sick one day? I'd have to do it on my own anyway."

           Nejteri pushed one big box behind her before getting a hold of two smaller packages, Shao soon enough returned and grabbed the package she prepared for him.

           He waited for her to crawl out of there to answer her as soon as they walked side-by-side to the small apartment buildings. "Tch! That won't happen. I don't get sick."

           Nejteri rolled her blue eyes at him, ringing an apartment whose name tag matched the same on the boxes and waited for an answer. "Sorry if my doubt offends ya, but even the healthiest people can get heartattacks at a considerably young age."

           Shao couldn't argue with that, he had some old friends that unfortunately had met that kind of road end.

           An older man suddenly opened the big doors for them, a baby with reddened, wet cheeks and puffy eyes rested against his hip. The little boy sucked anxiously on his pacifier and stared at the strangers on alert.

           "I'm sorry, the intercom is busted on both ends. You- you can leave the boxes here. Thank you for waiting."

           Both Nejteri and Shao shared simpathy towards the tired father and carried the boxes upstairs out of kindness but they didn't think too much about the genuine thanks for the help the father stuttered their way while maneuvering his baby to keep the boy still.

           Shao was the one leaving without a proper goodbye first before the father would swarm them in a longer conversation past the small-talk.

           Nejteri caught up to Shao on the stairs soon enough, now that they are alone again she wanted to adress one thing that rubbed off of her the wrong way. "Why do ya always have to sneer at my back when I lift and put down the packages? Ya ain’t bein' subtle about it either."

           Shao was a man of few words, or as far as she knew him. Now and then it seems like he's not comfortable with talking to her specifically. Maybe he's shy?

           "... Stop lifting with your back or you'll end up in the hospital by the end of the week." Shao fleetingly looked down at her, drinking in her small size of an adult.

           Although used to his son when he was a small kid years ago, he grew up nearly to his size. Shao doesn't know how to act around people that are kid-size and smaller, it's almost both awe and intimidation?

           He's not good with new people either, it took time to open up this much to her, get his tongue to loosen up. But maybe that's because his mother always taught him to hold back his cards for as long as he can, to know for sure if the person can be trusted. Words of wisdom from a successful CEO woman.

           "......... You do care about me." Nejteri twirled in place to face him, walking backwards and shooting him a smug grin. "'Bout a stranger like me?"

           Shao looked at her with his wide, brown eyes before quickly throwing his gaze at the other side of the road with a sharp scoff. He sometimes found her mocking infuriating.

           Nejteri's body turned after his and she stood behind him while he picked up two packages, two in each hand. Shao raised from a squat for his back to do less work as he brought the one paper box against his hip and the other on his shoulder before he carefully walked away to the next destination.

           Picking up the last small packages for this street mailed to the Tarkata, the automobile engineering company that Shao seems to be working at, perhaps he's just an errand boy that goes his way every four weeks to help a small gal in need with the heavier stuff when there is any.

           She put the package on her lap as she sat on the cargo's trunk and rubbed at her itching silver septum. As soon as he got back for his packages she decided to voice her observation. "So, you were like a body-builder weren't ya?"

           Shao froze right by her side, towering over her. He was genuienly suprised. "Who told you?"

           Snorting softly her choked laughter, she shot him a ludic smile before looking forward at the road again. The sun began to rise above the horizon and she still have so many roads to drive on. "Your body was pretty much a give away."

           Unexpectedly, Shao didn't snatch his employer's packages but only eyed them as he was sitting down beside her, leaning forward on his elbows. The van slightly shook and dipped under his weight, the back left wheel put under a big pressure that he needs to survive for Nejteri's sake to finish today's deliveries on time.

           "Hrm, alright. Good point, I guess.... I was a weight-lifter, actually."

           "Was?" Nejteri perked up, pupils enlargening ever-so-slightly but he would have noticed if he'd have been facing her.

           Shao loosened his pursed lips before he decided to reply, trying to play his cards right. "I had to stop to raise my son."

           Nejteri hummed and nodded in understanding, smiling softly for herself. She'd have never guessed he could be a parent, at all. It was very impressive actually, now she sees him as a different person entirely.

           "How much can ya lift now that ya ain’t doing it anymore?"

           "Oh, a lot. Still pretty close to Paul Anderson's record, if that name rings any bells to you, that is." Shao looked at her over his shoulder, even leaned in closer to her side so he'd see her face better.

           Nejteri took in his impressive body build before she leaned forward to look at him directly over his massive arm, her shoulder touching his. An intruding, intrusive question nagged at her brain until she gave in. "So... lifting me would be like holding a basket of fruit to ya?"

           Shao shook his head, a small smile blooming on his thin, rough lips. "Lighter."

                             Part 2?

[bl6ckr0s3]

Finding My Happy Place

I have been in such a deep mental depression that I couldn’t get myself to vent on here. I haven’t picked up the phone to called to speak to a counselor the way I said I would, but something is holding me back from going that route for some reason even though it may be more effective in dealing with my stress & anxiety. One of the bids that I put in at work actually gave me a break in getting out of tour 1. I got a tour 3 bid at the 010/020 area. Apparently, that bid assignment involves going to clear the mailboxes and the mail from the lobby and processing them through the big purple machine in the corner of the building across from one of the dock doors. It’s a 3pm-11:30pm shift. This will definitely be a big break for me going back to my regular shift. I hope that this job will be a lot better, and it will surely be a relief having to be stuck on Robot 3.

I hated my job so much to the point where I called out every week and I gotten an II last week. An interview investigation is basically sort of a write up. My main reason for missing work is because my body is not liking the shift and it has messed up my sleeping schedule. It would be nice not to have to drag my feet going into the workplace late at 11pm anymore. They wonder why so many people called off work at night? They need to use their common sense. 

During the safety meeting last night, my supervisor talked about a fight happened during one of the orientations. How did that happened? I have no idea. Maybe the company needs to use their brain and stopped lowering their standards in the way they hire people. I remember having to take a test and a drug test in order to be hired. Now they are not doing either. This is a federal job and they are supposed to. 

Josh has finally gotten hired with Graceland, his dream job that he can actually retire with if his dreams never came true. His mom even told him it wasn’t a good idea to be doing that, so now I gotta go through the trouble of waiting to be transferred to Memphis, one of the worst places to be around because it’s considered the #2 highest crime rate area. I heard stories of shootings and things that have happened there. Why couldn’t Elvis have his Graceland in Nashville instead of Memphis? Memphis is basically like South Central throughout the whole town, maybe except for part of downtown. Even downtown itself looks all runned down. I’m worried about something happening there more than I was worried when I was in Los Angeles considering I grew up and lived around the area most of my life. 

I ended up missing my court hearing when they said it would cost $72 to be at the hearing telephonically, what a bunch of bullshit. I would’ve expected them to charge somewhere between $20-$50 but not close to $100. I was sitting here wondering if I will actually get to see my son because his father is a controlling asshole douchebag. When I messaged Wilma and she completely ignored me, now I see how she’s playing that game. After all that being nice to her face, allowing her to meet my family, I should’ve known maybe she was just being fake. So I decided that from now on, I’m not really gonna put any trust in her even if she does take good care of my son. Sometimes I wonder if she enjoys taking my son away from me beside his father? If something happens between those 2, I’m gonna ignore her and not give a fuck. If she only wants to talk to me everytime Ricky hurts me, she’s got bigger issues. I sort of hope he fucking hurts her and I hope they are still arguing and are miserable everyday. I will just sit here and say, I wouldn’t know what else to tell you. I told her everything she needed to know about how he is and his past and she made a choice to still stay with him for my son. It’s on her. I will keep her message open and unblocked, but I won’t really socialize with her anymore unless I truly have to. I have to remember that she’s sided with my enemy. This Saturday is suppose to be the first video chat I have with my son since I left California. His father actually messaged me to make plans for the video chat. He will plan on leaving his laptop near his crib so I can at least watch him. I’m not sure whether Lim will be able to understand that I am going to try to communicate with him over video chat. I have to start messing with the Zoom and see how I am able to open up a chat thing through it. If I have problems with it, I can always try Skype or something. There’s plenty of free video apps to use. 

[phantomrose96]

For Pennies

Warm-up mini fic. Consider this a doodle.

....

The Fentons were selling their house for pennies.

The “For Sale” sign out front was easily missed against the ostentatious display of the op center, and the “FENTON” sign, and the Fenton RV. Or perhaps, all that made it more noticeable. It bolstered the weird and unsettling mundanity of a standard-issue For Sale sign dictating the fate of a house so indescribably odd.

It took only a few curious gossips to find the listing, and to spread the news further when the listing asked for hardly a fifth of standard asking price. Real estate agents weighed in on town facebook pages that, yes, this was abysmally low. Others rationalized it. “It’s only natural. Those house modifications have killed the resale value. The basement is uninhabitable according to the listing. They’re selling an extreme fixer-upper.”

And when the house did not sell in the first week, the price dipped again. And when rumors spread that the house owners were responsible for the town’s ghost blight, the price dipped once again. Then nearly overnight, the op-center vanished, and the FENTON sign disappeared from sight. The Fentons were, if nothing else, impressive engineers, capable of undoing a lifetime’s work in a weekend. Soon after, the listing sold.

The buyer, Peter, was looking for fixer-uppers to flip and rent. He knew about the Amity Park rumors, but if the renting market proved stale for the fear of ghosts, he knew the airbnb market would thrive with curious tourists, so the property was a safe bet regardless.

He met the family once, in the house, when he came to inspect it and sign paperwork if he was satisfied. The husband was perhaps the biggest man Peter had ever seen, portly yet rock solid, clad head to toe in neon orange. The wife matched him in jumpsuits, a powder blue one. Their daughter seemed normal, though she and Peter only exchanged a handful of words.

“Where are you folks headed once this place is sold?” Peter asked, cordially, eyes flitting between the contract before him and the couple seated across the table.

“Westward, a bit. Um, Maddie’s got a sister out there. We’re trying to be closer to family.”

Peter nodded. “Always good to have family around.” He glanced in the daughter’s direction. “Are you excited to be moving closer to your aunt?”

The daughter met his gaze, level. “I’m not going with them, actually.”

“Oh?” Peter asked. “Headed to college? That would make sense.”

“I’m a rising senior,” the girl answered.

“Jazz is—” the mother, Maddie, cut in. “It’s well, it’s about to be her senior year of high school. Hard time to switch schools, you know? She’s going to be renting a place nearby so she can finish school here.”

“Oh? First time living all on your own?” Peter asked, initialing a page of the contract.

“I’m 17. It’s not that weird.”

“Never said it was. I remember my first place pretty fondly. It’s an exciting milestone, don’t waste it!”

Peter initialed another page. He spun the document back to the Fentons to sign as well.

“Well, I really like the place, is what I’ve got to say. The newly redone flooring on this floor was a perk I wasn’t expecting, can’t have been cheap. You still managed to keep the price amazing though. Don’t worry about the dings and scratches – I’ve got the art of fixing up places down to a science. I’ll take a crack at the basement too.”

“We’d rather you didn’t,” Maddie answered.

Peter waved her off. “I know it was some kind of lab, yeah? You won’t be liable if I say, spill acid on myself or dunk myself in radiation or, whatever you had going on down there. We can go over that clause of the contract again if you want. Ghosts, right?”

“It’s dangerous—”

“If I can’t hack it, I’ll seal up the basement for good. But I won’t know until I try. Seriously, don’t worry.”

The Fentons signed the final page, and flipped the contract back around to Peter. He pulled an envelope from his coat – a check made out with the full amount. No loan needed. No mortgage. Their asking price was practically pocket change.

The daughter excused herself from the room.

…

The Fenton basement had fewer wonders than Peter was expecting.

He swung a flashlight around, as the bulb hanging overhead had been cut from the main power supply. Most everything had been cleared out, leaving a room hollowed out. His feet clicked across the metal floor. Walls of bolted steel rose high on all four sides. On the opposite wall, the scars of heavy bolting remained, along with the smoky stain of something huge, and geometric, no longer bolted to the wall.

He swung his beam wide, across every which wall beveling with bloated shadows, until he pinned the electrical panel.

“There you are.”

It took some tampering, and some patience, because something had physically demolished the box before him. Peter knew his way around basic house wiring, so it took only a few experimental adjustments until he threw the breaker, and the industrial light overhead clunked to life.

Peter turned, surveying the mouse cage of pure, uninterrupted steel sheeting, bolted together wall to wall, across the floor, across the ceiling. It was an impressive expanse of space, and under the proper flood lighting Peter could make out the deeper shadowy stains of where industrial cabinets used to be affixed to the floors, the walls. He was staring into the burnt out afterimage of what, he could only conjecture, had once been an impressive scientific facility.

It wasn’t above being carpeted and turned into a rec room.

Peter paused, his eyes training to the back corner near the octagonal imprint left in the wall. Something seemed amiss, something with color, popping bright against a display of pure ash and silver.

Peter stepped forward, flashlight still pointed though it served little use now. The space took shape – a rectangular impression on the floor, about as large as a twin bed, formed a negative image. The rectangle was spotlessly clean, silver and shiny, as though recently cleaned and polished and recleaned and repolished.

It was the edges of the rectangle, the spatters of space stretching beyond it, that held Peter’s attention.

Green, verging toward a rusty brown, splattered the floor. He stepped closer, and knelt, and stared at the pattern. Like a dropped vial of green chemicals that shattered and spattered the floors, the neighboring wall. Like radioactive spill left to eat into the floor. Peter thought back to his radioactive quip, and wondered if he should perhaps back away.

He set a nail to one of the stains and scratched at it. It would not lift. It would not budge. He swung the flashlight beam, and he found the stains glittered, and then dulled where they edged closer to rust.

And it was the rust that confused Peter the most. That copper color, like pennies, that morphed away from the green. It wasn’t uniform. It did not eat away symmetrically at the edges of the stains. Instead it spattered, and dragged, and molded from droplets to long streaks dragging across the floor like chalk dust on a blackboard.

Peter followed them. The streaking ended. Beyond that, he caught a single droplet speckled into the floor a foot away. Another, when he swung his beam. And another. He followed them, one by one, tracing them back to the basement stairs, up, up, up, up.

At the top of the stairs, the trail vanished. The brand new hardwood flooring that stretched through the whole first floor was immaculate.

[sj-ficrecs]

fic rec 11!

just a random collection of what I’ve read and enjoyed lately. as usual, no specific order.

This is purely a fic rec blog, always reblogging fics I enjoy. usually Bucky x reader, sometimes Steve x reader, Chris Beck x reader, etc. So check out more I’ve reblogged on this page. :) See my past fic recs below:

PREVIOUS FIC RECS HERE! // Q & A

(divider by @bwbatta)

Bucky x reader:

Flashing Lights by @pellucid-constellations​ Paramedic!Bucky x reader

“Bucky’s worst fears come true when he’s called to a scene. If he’s the one with the dangerous job, then why is it your life that’s hanging in the balance?”

Operation: Freefall by @constantwriter85​ Bucky x reader

“When Bucky fell from the train in 1945, he didn’t just leave behind his family and friends. He left behind the girl he was going to marry, a girl he never stopped loving. Decades later, Bucky continued to search for her, only to find out that she had disappeared without a trace in 1955. But when Steve hands over the shield to Sam Wilson, he also has something for his childhood friend—a redacted S.H.I.E.L.D. file code-named Operation: Freefall, a file with more questions than answers. With Sam’s help and a handful of Pym Particles, the file sends Bucky on a trip to the past, trying to solve the mystery and save the woman he still loves.”

Recovery by @wicked-mind​ Biker!Bucky x reader

“After going through rehab and recovering, you move back to town to live with your mother as you sort out what to do with your life, but your mom has other plans that include hooking you up with a hot biker by the name of James ‘Bucky’ Barnes”

Teacher’s Favorite + Sharing My Sweetheart by @suitk0via​ Single dad!Bucky x teacher!reader

“You are first grade teacher and Bucky is a single dad who wants to be involved with everything his little girl - Elaine - does. He’s the dad all the parent’s and faculty drool over. You quickly become Elaine’s favorite teacher and Bucky’s just gotta meet you.”

Uninvited by @mymoonagedaydream​ modern!Bucky x reader

Reader is a close friend of Sam’s. Sam and Bucky are roommates, so reader spends a lot of time with them. Bucky becomes colder towards reader and they ask Sam about it - finding out Bucky, who is taken, is falling out of love w/ his gf because he has a crush on reader.

You Know Me Too Well by @nexusnyx​ Tattoo Artist!Bucky x reader

“there is a thin line between pain and pleasure. that line is real and palpable, except for the times when you sit in bucky barnes’ table and feel his hands holding your skin. his job demands him to hurt you, but the only problem is that you enjoy it. a lot.”

The Slip Up by @justkending​ dad!Bucky x reader

“After a last hurrah to graduating college with a future to be a family practitioner, a little slip up happens… Seven years down the road, just when things just now seem to be going smoothly, Y/N approaches that slip up from all those years ago. She’s not looking for anything right now. She is just where she wants to be in life. It seems the universe has a different idea though. One called James Barnes.”

Invisible String series by @dirty-holy-things​ Bucky x reader

“You were fairly certain that landing a date through court-ordered therapy was some sort of HIPAA violation, if not just an ethical one, but you couldn’t help but be intrigued by the mysterious storm cloud of a man who you shared the waiting room with every Thursday.”

Sacrifice by @wkemeup​ Bucky x reader

“In the midst of an attack, you’re dosed with an unknown chemical and your healing ability becomes compromised.”

Purgatory by @wkemeup​ Bucky x reader

“While on a mission, Bucky becomes dissociated into the Winter Soldier. But instead of becoming a threat, his instinct is to protect.”

Behind the Storm by @wkemeup​ Bucky x reader

“On a mission, you’re hit with a spell that takes away your ability to see. Bucky does what he can to make you feel safe.”

We Were Screaming in Color by @samwlscns​ Bucky x reader, soulmate au

“james buchanan barnes was your soulmate and you were his. despite everything the world threw your way, bucky always kept his promise to make his way back home to you. even if that meant having to lose him more than once.”

Bulova by @babycap​ Bucky x reader

“In the five years between the two snaps that changed it all, life had moved on, as life is want to do. In the aftermath of that final battle, you discover that time waited for no one (least of all you), and those you loved marched forward into it without you. Sam suggests you volunteer at the local retirement community to keep you busy, keep your mind from lingering on what—and who—you lost. In giving back, you find that time can be just as generous as it is cruel. A non-canon compliant, friends-to-lovers fic.”

And They’re Roommates by @golden-barnes​ Modern bartender/roommate!Bucky x reader, New Girl au

“Your boyfriend cheats on you, and now you have nowhere to go. So when you found an ad for a shared loft, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. Come to the realization that you will be sharing it with four guys. Four guys, one of them who is extremely hot and zero brain cells between any of them. What else could you ask for?”

Keep Me Cool by @chouettedubois​ Bucky x reader

“You and Bucky are on your third undercover mission acting as a couple. Things go awry when you fall ill. Cue caretaker!Bucky to the rescue.”

Love in the Workplace by @cxddlyash​ Gardener!Bucky x Receptionist!reader

Working at the same hotel, a new gardener is recently hired.

“Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of the new gardener. 

“What is it?” Sarah asks you and you clear your throat before tearing your gaze from the man.

“Uh, nothing. I finally see the gardener that the hotel hired,” you mention while walking closer to the place.”

Dad Biker!Bucky being adorable with his kids blurb by @angrythingstarlight​ dad biker!Bucky x reader

dad biker Bucky and his kids making pancakes and breakfast for mom :)

Tap by @houseravenclaws​ Bucky x reader

“bucky never talked much. he fell in love anyway.”

Teach Me How to Love by @thefalconthatcriedwolf​ Godfather/single dad!Bucky x teacher!reader

“Natasha leaves behind her precious daughter, Yelena, and with her dying breath asks Bucky to look after her. You happen to have Yelena in your class this school year.”

To Build a Home by @buckyjamess-archive​ @buckyjamess​​ Mechanic/single dad!Bucky x single mom!reader

“a mechanic and a nurse walk into a schoolyard..both new in the single parent life, chaos arises when the two come together but they wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A Good Kind of Fire by @dolcezzasfantasy​ Modern!Bucky x reader

“Character A runs a flower shop downtown. Character B is terribly allergic to flowers.”

If I Could Fly by @ceeellewrites​ actor!Bucky x actress!reader, social media au

“Bucky Barnes is an actor with a small (just a tiny) celebrity crush on Y/N L/N, one of the industry’s well-known actress. Well, it’s just a celebrity crush, what could go wrong?”

The Rumour by @sidepartskinnyjeans​ Bucky x reader

“after a, mostly, chance meeting with Sergeant Barnes starts a rumour around the compound that soon gets out of hand.”

See the World the Way You Do by @vanderlustwords​ Bucky x reader, soulmate au

“You start to see colour when you meet your soulmate. Bucky thinks that soulmates are a one of a kind thing—you get one and that’s it. His world used to be colourful once and then he lost that. He’s resigned to see black and white for the rest of his life…until flashes of colours would appear from the corner of his eye. And it seemed to happen more and more as Bucky spends time with you.”

Crawl Home to Her by @nexusnyx​ Bucky x reader

“when bucky finaly returns from his mission, he finds you sleeping in his sofa and the apartment much different than when he left. much prettier, with a touch of home. apparently, while he was away you took his advice to “do what you want with the place, doll” seriously - or as a distraction - and now he got to come home to this.bucky’s heart takes a leap and he stands there for a second, frozen in his spot.”

Signed by the Author by @wintersfilm​ Bucky x reader

“on a mission to improve his conversations with sam, bucky wanders brooklyn and into a bookstore where he finds his new favourite book and the most adorable bookseller he has ever laid eyes on.”

Seasons of Love by @constantwriter85​ Army vet!Bucky x reader, modern au

“Bucky gets a service dog, but Winter’s only got eyes for the dog across the park…and her owner.”

One Single Thread of Gold (Tied Me to You) by @pietrotica​ Bucky x reader, soulmate au

“on your sixteenth birthday, the first words your soulmate will speak to you appear on your wrist. in a world where it’s quite common to get a simple ’hi what can i get you’ or common phrases, you’ve managed to get their name. that doesn’t make it easier to find him.”

Sunday is a Family Day by @lazyangeltreemoney​ Bodyguard!Bucky x rockstar!reader

“You’re stubborn, annoying and hot as hell which seems to be an awful combo to mix with Bucky Barnes. However one day he realises he got you all wrong and now there’s a little kid in the mix that needs both of your help.”