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etherealyoungk · 11 months

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third time's a charm - kim mingyu

summary: you and mingyu are rivals, having restaurants near each other and just hating each other's guts for wanting to be the top restaurant in the area. but life's not always fair and you and mingyu end up having to work together. a little bit of angst, spice, fluff, and mutual pining turns into a cute one-shot.

pairing: chef!mingyu x chef!reader

warnings: enemies to lovers kinda, fluff, angst, kissing, suggestive and suggestive language, implied smut, mentions of alcohol, use of curse words, and mingyu being an annoying ass but <3 he's so fine

word count: 6.5k // lowercase intended

a/n: a repost of my chef mingyu series as a one-shot. i had so much fun writing this, i hope you enjoy reading it.

chef!mingyu and you are rivals, having restaurants near each other and just hating each other's guts wanting to be the top restaurant in the area. but then one day you both get hired for a private event because the person who was getting married likes both of your food and couldn't choose. they asked if you both could maybe collaborate and work. you would have said no but the money was too good to lose out on. so here you are bickering with mingyu as you sit late at night in his restaurant trying to decide the menu for the wedding event. he'll just be so fucking cocky with a stupid smirk plastered on his face because he's just that confident about his skills and cooking and you both just can't seem to agree on anything.

"you're so annoying god, how am i supposed to work with you", you mumble. "come on baby, let's both put aside our differences and work like professionals hm", mingyu says.

"i swear if you stress me out i will kill you", you say. "ah don't worry, besides i know some ways we can destress", he says giving you a wink and making you almost choke on the water you were sipping on.

you both have to taste test the menu first before finalizing it so you head to Mingyu’s restaurant the next day and it’s just you two alone in the kitchen as you cook the dishes, mingyu is in charge of starters and mains while you were in charge of the two desserts. mingyu will not shy away from taunting you and just trying to flirt and mess with you because he's a jerk like that but fuck he looked so hot when he was in his element cooking. he tastes your dishes and will be surprised at how good it is. "it's pretty good", he admits. "duh what did you think", you reply annoyed. "thought it would taste like shit", he says and you smack his arm. "i told you not to get on my nerves", you warn and he just chuckles saying sorry as he licks the plate clean.

then on the day of the event somehow you ended up with missing ingredients so you had to make do with what you had, having a full panic attack as you try to stay calm and finish cooking in the time given. mingyu surprisingly wouldn't be a jerk that day and would come to help you re-plan your menu and dishes and once his service was over, he'd come and help you plate the desserts. finally done with the hectic day, you both head home and you end up crashing in mingyu's place because you had a little too much to drink. you would wake up wondering where the hell you were in the morning until you see a shirtless mingyu in front of you and the smell of something sweet in the air.

"are you awake baby? i didn't know if you liked pancakes or french toast so i made both", he says with a smile. you can't seem to remember anything from the night before but seeing mingyu shirtless and you in one of mingyu's shirts in his bed makes you start thinking things.

"did we...sleep together?", you ask and he just smirks. "why baby don't you remember?", he teases, putting the plate down on the table. "n-no", you mumble. "if you're teasing me i swear i will kill you", you say giving him a death stare. "i mean you were pretty much all over me last night", he says and your jaw drops. "liar". he shakes his head. "i had to lock the guest room and sleep because i was so scared", he adds and you roll your eyes. "but if you do want to sleep together, i'd be more than happy to oblige", he says with wink as he grins, leaning forward making your breath hitch. god, he was so annoying.

after you woke up in mingyu's bed that day you're just not able to stop thinking about him and it just annoys you even more because his stupid smirk is engraved in your mind. "if you want to sleep with me, i'd be happy to oblige?" that fucker. you mumble to yourself and head to the restaurant that day and try to tune out mingyu. but then just when you thought your day couldn't get any worse, it does. your ex-partner decided to give you a visit because they were 'missing you' and you're just even more ticked off because of the way they're pitying you and thinking your life sucks because they’re not with you anymore. the way they’d be just boasting about their life now and just thinking you didn't move on was infuriating.

"so did you move on from me? i know you loved me so the breakup must have hit you hard", they say, making you absolutely seeth with anger. who the hell did they think they were? just then you spot mingyu from the corner of your eye. you had forgotten you had asked him to come over because you had forgotten your wallet at his place and he offered to come to drop it off back to you that evening.

so you put on your fakest smile and do something stupid but desperate times call for desperate measures.

"baby, you're finally here!", you say loudly, walking over to mingyu as he comes up to you both. you latch your arm around mingyu's, leaning your head on his arm. "i was waiting for you", you add looking at mingyu as you bat your eyelashes at him. mingyu would just be so confused and literally, just be like wtf as he looks at you. you give him a small nudge with your elbow, as you side-eye your ex hoping he'll get the message and play along. and thankfully he does. he smiles, and his arm goes around your waist, pulling you closer than you already were. "were you waiting long? the traffic was horrible", he says. your ex just watches all this unfold. "oh, you should meet my boyfriend", you say as you look at your ex. they just gives you both a stiff smile. "we should head home soon hm, i have something special planned", mingyu adds, leaning in to kiss your cheek, catching you off guard. you ex excuses himself and finally heads off. you watch as he leaves, rolling your eyes.

"that asshole", you mutter. "who do they think there are huh, can't believe i actually dated a piece of shit like them", you add, clearly frustrated. a few more profanities leave your lips while mingyu just looks at you, amused at the situation he's been caught in. you don't even realize that you're still holding mingyu's hand until you feel him squeeze your hand ever so slightly. so you look down and look back up at him before letting go of his hand. not going to lie, he would be a bit :\ because of how fast you let go of his hand but he won't say anything.

"so i'm your boyfriend now hm", he says with that stupid smile as he raises an eyebrow. "noo", you defend and he'll pout. "kidding, anyways who was that guy?", he prompts. "my ex, that little shit", you say and mingyu can tell you're extremely annoyed. "here's your wallet", he says as he hands it to you, fetching it from his pocket. "thank you", you say, really grateful this time, because as annoying as he was, he was still a nice guy.

mingyu would offer to drive you home and you agree because it was raining and you didn't really have any other means of transportation so late at night. "i could really use a drink or two", you say as mingyu drives. so that's how you end up in a bar nearby, having a heart-to-heart conversation with mingyu - your rival in business and the guy to who you refused to believe you were attracted. and once again, you find yourself waking up in an unfamiliar bed, only to realize it's mingyu's bed...again. "fuck", you mutter as you try to get out of bed, but mingyu enters - shirtless of course.

"awake baby? i think i'm having deja-vu", he says, his arms crossed over his chest as he looks at you. "i'm sorry...you could have just dropped me home", you add. "but you basically passed out on the couch, how the hell was i supposed to drop you off home in that state", he counters. fair point. "okay im sorry. i'll treat you to lunch and dinner for letting me crash the night", you add and he smiles satisfied with the deal.

"so...do you remember what happened last night?", he adds, with a glint in his eyes. "hm what happened?", you ask, confused. you again have no recollection of the night before. he clicks his tongue. "im disappointed baby, i thought you would remember", he says as he walks up to the bed. "why...what happened?", you ask, unsure. "you really don't remember?", he frowns and shakes his head. "you don't remember asking me to sleep with you? i had to pry you off me", he says and you are horrified. "what…i would never....i didn't", you stutter. "hell you even tried to steal a few smooches". "stop lying i swear i will actually strangle you", you tell making him chuckle, showing his pretty smile. "no but you really did ask me to sleep with you baby", he says completely serious this time and you can feel your cheeks heat up because what the fuck. you really must've had too much to drink.

"it must've been a while since your last partner if you're so desperate for me", he'll tease. asshole. "i'll happily oblige if you ask me sober though", he adds with a wink making you whack him with the pillow.

you'll go home that day annoyed, hot, and bothered and won't be able to stop thinking about mingyu and his stupidly handsome face and body.

doesn't it suck to have the person you hate on your mind constantly? expect it wasn't exactly hate with mingyu. it was more how you just refused to believe you were attracted to him that made you think about him even more. not to mention you were business rivals, so you didn't want to do anything stupid.

it's been a few weeks and as much it pained you to admit it, you did wish mingyu stopped by but he hadn't in the last few weeks. and just as you were locking up and about to leave, you see a familiar figure strolling inside your restaurant - mingyu.

"what do you want?", you ask coldly, tired from the long day. "now is that how you greet a friend?", he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. you noticed how the shirt he was wearing just hugged his body and arms, showing off his biceps. and he was wearing glasses too. fuck he looked so hot tonight. you cleared your throat before speaking.

"im tired okay, what's up?", you repeat. "just came for dinner", he prompts and you're lost. "sorry what? we're closed", you say. "did someone forget they owe me lunch and dinner? how ungrateful", he says, shaking his head with a scoff. right, you promised him you'd treat him for letting you crash in his place.

"right...what do you want?", you ask. "i want you to cook me something that you love to eat", he asks. "i'll buy you something how's that?", you bargain. "no can do baby. or do you want the whole world to know that you're dying to sleep with me", he asks with a raised brow making you narrow your eyes at him. "you're such an ass", you mumble, purposely nudging your elbow into him as you walk ahead.

you lock up and mingyu would drive you back to your place where you decide to cook your favorite pasta for him. it was simple, easy to make, and super yummy too. mingyu would hang around in the kitchen as you started cooking, and maybe give you some unsolicited decor advice, making you roll your eyes. and you notice how mingyu's hands would just automatically start helping you gather ingredients or things - i guess that’s what happens when you cook for a living. you'd have to smack his hands off, telling him you'd manage to make him pout.

he'll lean back on the other end of the counter as you stand chopping some vegetables and doing some prep for the pasta. "so did your ex pay you a visit again?", mingyu asks, looking at you keenly. "that idiot did come in the morning again, and was asking where you were", you say. "what did you say?", "nothing, just that you had worked", you add. "but i don't think he'll come again, hopefully", you add.

"was he good in bed?", mingyu asks, like it's the most normal question in the world, catching you completely off guard. "excuse me? what kind of question is that?", you say, looking at him. "what, can't i know about your loser ex? i'm guessing he was pretty shit seeing as you've been dying to sleep with me", he adds with a smug smirk. as he pushes his glasses up. "what- firstly i am not dying to sleep with you and secondly i don't see why that actually matters to you", you say, getting annoyed. mingyu did an excellent job getting on your nerves.

"yeah so he was shit in bed", mingyu concludes when you avoid the question. "fuck you mingyu", you say, giving his a side eye. "oh, so you want me to? i'll gladly do it, just ask", he says nonchalantly. "like you're that good in bed either", you mumble to yourself but obviously mingyu heard you.

"is that a challenge baby? do you want me to show you", he asks with a raised brow. "whatever oh my god, just let me cook", you snap back at him, getting your focus back onto prepping for the pasta.

after a few seconds of silence, mingyu speaks up again. "baby if you need help, i'll be more than happy to. it feels awkward just standing here doing nothing", he asks again. "firstly, my name is -", you start, looking up to glance at mingyu. and maybe it was because you looked away for a second or because you were tired, your hand slipped and the knife sliced your finger. "OW", you yell, dropping the knife on the counter as you clutch your finger to your chest.

mingyu would be by your side in an instant. "what happened?", he asks and he gets his answer from the drops of blood on the countertop. "shit", he mutters. he can tell by the way your finger is bleeding that it's deep and bad cut. "where's your first aid kit", he asks urgently. "top shelf on the right", you mumble. he'll clear the countertop, pushing all the ingredients and chopping board to the side to make some space for you. you feel his hands on your waist as he gently hoists you up so you're now sitting on the countertop.

"here, let me see hm", he asks softly. you open your hands and hear him take in a sharp breath. it was pretty bad. you had cut not one, but two fingers and they were pretty deep slices, ouch. he'll wipe your finger with a wet cloth first. then he'll dab the disinfectant on, and you close your eyes because it burned like shit. "oww it hurts", you whine. "let me do it, i can manage mingyu", you huff but he won't let you. "don't - just let me help you".

he'll clean your other cuts and it just burns so bad you end up leaning your forehead on mingyu's shoulder, as he's standing in front of you. he'll gently bandage your fingers and make sure you were all okay. "done, you are okay baby?", he asks as you're still leaning your head against him. "hm", you manage to say. you lift your head up but you're still so close to mingyu, you gulp as you look at him. "sorry, i guess i was just tired", you tell softly. "you should have told me, we could have done this another time", he scolds. "i owed you though", you mumble, looking down. and i wanted to spend time with you.

"i'll be okay, it's no big deal", you add and you're hyper-aware of mingyu's hands resting on your thighs as he stares at you. "you're really stubborn you know", he adds making you scoff. "stubborn? me?? have you seen yourself, you're so damn cocky about everything", you counter. he won't say anything but he did love seeing you all feisty, he thought it was hot. "what can i say, i like being the best in everything i do", he counters, giving you a little smirk.

and you can't take it anymore. you couldn't take his stupid smile and how stupidly attracted you were to him. you couldn't take the tension anymore, so you just grabbed mingyu by the collar of his shirt and pulled him forward, kissing him. he would be caught off guard for a second but he'll smirk into the kiss, kissing you back as he moves his lips against yours. his hand moves up to cup your cheek as your fist where you held the collar of his shirt tightens, feeling giddy with the kiss. you pull away.

"we shouldn't be doing this", you say breathlessly. "give me one good reason why we shouldn't", he responds as he captures your lips again, his other hand going to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him. "fuck...because we're rivals and i'm supposed to hate you", you mumble between kisses. "let's just screw that and start over", he says as he leaves a trail of soft kisses on your collarbone. but your mind is too fuzzy to care anymore. you look at him, his lips pink and plump from all the kissing. he starts to kiss your neck, making you gasp as your eyes flutter close. he leaves a trail of soft kisses on your collarbone. "m-mingyu", you whisper. "hm tell me what you want baby", he groans softly, kissing up to your jawline as you grip his arm. "you're so annoying"softly, kissing up to your jawline. he moves his hand to remove his glasses when you stop him. "don't, i like how they look on you", you say, looking at him as you bite your lip. "oh really? how does it look on me?", he asks, fully knowing the answer but he just wanted to hear it from you. "makes you look so hot", you mumble against his lips, kissing him. he kisses you back as he moves his lips against yours. his hand moves up to cup your cheek as your fist where you held the collar of his shirt tightens, feeling giddy with the kiss.

you don't know how you made it to your bed, as mingyu hovers over you, his shirt thrown somewhere to the side. "i'll fuck you so good that the only name you'll remember is mine", he taunts, whispering in your ear before kissing you again. his cheeks flushed and his hair falling over his face as he looks down at you. with such passion making you dizzy.

you stir awake and open your eyes to see mingyu soundly sleeping next to you. his arm is lazily around your waist, his hair falling over his hair in a cute mess. the events of last night are still clear in your head. what was going to happen now? what were the two of you?

you gently move, trying not to wake up mingyu, but he stirs slowly beside you, his arm tightening against your waist as he pulls you closer. "five more minutes", he mumbles and you can't really do anything to get out of his killer grip, so you lay there in his arms, admiring his pretty face.

"your five minutes are up", you say, pushing against his chest to get out of his hold, making mingyu open his eyes. "you're so mean", he mumbles, letting you get out of his grasp.

your clothes are scattered on the floor from the night before and you reach out for the closest thing near you - mingyu's shirt. you can definitely see him check you out as you are draped in his shirt as he shows his pretty grin to you. mingyu makes breakfast and soon you both part ways, having to attend to the restaurant.

that night, you crash in bed and you can't stop thinking about what happened between you both. what was going to happen? how could you possibly stay friends with him? would it be weird? and mostly, you were scared. you still didn't want to admit how you felt about him. and after last night's events, you were even more confused and unsure. so you do the worst thing anyone can do - try to avoid mingyu and pretend like it didn't happen.

it's easy at first because you're both busy with your work. but mingyu would leave you occasional texts to which you would just reply with short sentences, making up excuses that you were busy or tired if he asked if you were free for dinner or coffee. but then mingyu obviously picks up on your behavior and maybe starts to feel bad. and he decides to finally do something about it.

you wrap up for the night and are heading out the door when you bump into someone since you were looking at your phone as you walked. "ouch-oh", you let out upon seeing whom you had bumped into - mingyu.

"hi", you say, gaining your balance as you step back. "hi" he says as he looks at you. "what's up?", you ask. "i'm here to get my second treat from you", he adds and when you give him a confused look he elaborates. "did someone forget they owe me two meals?", he prompts with a raised eyebrow. this annoying asshole.

"thought you forgot about", you mumble under your breath. "how could i, what do you take me for hm", he teases making you glare at him. since you'd been avoiding him, you forgot how cocky and annoying he was, even though you hated to admit how much it turned you on and how much you found him insanely attractive.

"what do you want? i'll buy you dinner", you tell. "nope, you've to make me something", he tells, not budging. "fine i'll make you ramen", you tell. he raises his eyebrows. "are you flirting with me right now?", he asks. you simply push past him and walk ahead mumbling under your breath as he laughs and follows behind you.

you both are in your apartment now. taking a pot, you fill it with water and wait for it to boil as mingyu leans back against the counter. you're about to chop some green onions when mingyu steps in. "let me hm, don't want you cutting yourself again", he says as he takes the knife from you, chopping them neatly. you just hoped he didn't bring up what happened last time now because you would die on the spot if he did that.

"so...can i ask you why you've been avoiding me?", he finally asks. your leaning against the other side of the counter now as mingyu turns back to look at you. great, here we go.

"what do you mean, i haven't been avoiding you", you lie, trying to sound convincing but mingyu can see right through you. "don't lie baby, it's very obvious", he says crossing his arms across his chest, which only emphasized his biceps even more.

"is it because of what happened between us last time?", he asks as he looks at you. the way he looks at you and waits tells you that he did genuinely have feelings for you. you liked him too, he definitely made your heart jump. but you both were supposed to be rivals and you're feelings were complicated, and you didn't know how to say it.

"i'm not going to lie, i did feel bad. i thought there was a spark between us you know", he says. the water is boiling now but mingyu didn't move and neither did you.

"yeah, it was fine. just... let's just treat it like a one-night stand and move on okay. forget about it", you tell, dismissing the topic and your feelings completely, and you didn't miss the flash of hurt that reflected in mingyu's eyes.

you come forward to put the ramen in the water along with the flavoring packets as you try to ignore mingyu's presence next to you. "wow", he finally says. "so that's all it was to you? it didn't mean anything? because from what i remember i clearly felt something and so did you", he adds, not letting go of the topic.

"it's just something that happened-" "did you want it", he asks cutting you off. the ramen is still boiling but neither of you pays attention to it anymore. "i mean yeah but that doesn't need to define our relationship", you tell. "what are we now?", you ask.

"i don't know but i thought it could be the start of something. but seeing how you just thought about it as a one-night stand and have been ignoring me ever since tells me all i need to know", he tells as he runs a hand through his hair. you finally turn back your attention to the ramen, which is clearly been boiling for too long. turning off the stove, you serve some for yourself and mingyu and push the bowl toward him.

neither of you talk as you both eat, mingyu inhaling the noodles. you can tell he's pissed off but he still helps you clean up before leaves, only telling you thanks for the ramen as he steps out the door of your apartment.

that week mingyu doesn't text you or call. it was selfish of you to think that he would. but still, you unconsciously found yourself waiting for his text or his goofy face to pop by your restaurant. and that's when you realized you missed him. you really did like him alot. that night after a long day and a long week, you find yourself drinking alone in the corner of a cute restaurant, just drowning in your sorrows. you were pretty tipsy at this point and some random person decided to sit next to you, annoying you and was trying to make small talk with you.

"can you leave, please? i don't think i know you", you tell but they don't seem to listen. that's when you hear a familiar voice. "i think you need to go", the voice says and you look up. "who are you?" "they're my partner", you hear the voice say as the person gets up, walking off as the person glares at him.

the mystery person who just saved you takes a seat opposite you and you stare at him trying to figure out where you've seen him before. "you look like someone i know", you tell, taking another sip of your drink, only to find the glass empty as you ask for another drink. "yeah you look like this guy mingyu", you tell and he chuckles because it was, in fact, mingyu who was sitting in front of you.

after taking a few sips of your refreshed drink, you launch into an explanation about mingyu...to mingyu because you're too drunk to realize mingyu is in front of you and you just needed to get things off your chest.

"who's mingyu?", he asks. "this guy who's super annoying but also so attractive. and i just fucked up big time with him. we ended up sleeping together but then i just told him to forget about it basically. and now i'm just going to die single", you tell. mingyu smiles softly at that. " but how do you feel about him?", he asks, curious to know what you really felt and thought about him.

"i do like him, even though he's too cocky for his own good and annoying, he's pretty cool. i can't seem to think straight when i'm around him. i was just scared to admit my feelings after and screwed up, causing a mess. but i really really do like him", you tell, as you down your drink. mingyu stops your hand when you ask for another drink. "i think you've had enough for tonight baby, let's get you home", he says and soon he's driving you back home while you're passed out asleep in the passenger seat of his car.

you stir awake in bed, your head heavy from last night's drinking. you open your eyes and look around. since when did you have yellow walls? you look around and get up, realizing this isn't your room, but why does it seem vaguely familiar? just then a head peeps into the room - mingyu.

what the hell? he sees you awake and gives you that toothy, stupid, pretty smile. "you're awake i see", he tells, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorframe. "you should just move into my place hm i can see that you love it so much", he adds, being sarcastic and teasing you. "why am i here?", you ask, confused, not being able to recall how or why you even ended up in mingyu's house. you're just hoping you didn't do anything stupid last night.

"bad memory again baby?", he prompts and you give him a small glare.

"shit", you mumble under your breath as you wrack your brain and try to recall last nights events. "sorry i keep crashing at your place", you add, feeling guilty. "i made breakfast, eat before it get's cold", he says before retreating back to the dining hall. you follow him after a minute and you're about to just walk away.

"it's fine, i'll eat later", you say but mingyu just puts the plate in front of you, guiding you to a seat and pushing you down to sit. "you're really going to refuse my world famous french toast?", he asks.

you take a bite and nod because it was actually very yum. "how'd i end up here anyway?", you ask, looking at mingyu. "you texted me", he says and you wait for him to explain more. "or like left me a few really misspelled drunk texts which i had to put together to figure out where you were". then you remember. right, that's what i was doing, trying to forget about mingyu, yet here you were at his house.

"and then you passed out in my car when i was driving you home and you wouldn't wake up so i had to take you back to my place", he explains between bites of his toast. you cringe at the memory. "sorry", you mumble out.

later that week you still can't stop thinking about mingyu and even more so. he was just so sweet and charming. and you missed him. you're laying down in bed and it's late. you're staring at the ceiling and thinking about mingyu and your feelings. what was i so scared off? was i going to push away somehow just because i was unsure and scared, and maybe lose out on something because of that? and then regret it. you didn't want to. you'd done that plenty of times before and knew how it ended. so you get up. you were not going to make the same mistake with mingyu.

you threw on a hoodie and shoes and took the bus, making your way to mingyu's house. you run from the bus stop to his place, not caring if people gave you weird looks. you were just hoping that it wasn't too late and that mingyu would still listen and maybe give you a chance.

you run up the stairs not caring to wait for the elevator and ring his doorbell, leaning your hand against his door as you catch your breath. the door opens and you lose your balance, falling right into mingyu's arm. he catches you. "woah woah", he says seeing you. "y/n?", he asks, seeing you breathless. "are you okay? did something happen?", he asks again. you step inside, the door closing behind you.

"let me get you some water and-", "i like you too okay", you tell, catching him off guard and he just stares at you. "i like you a lot mingyu. i was just scared of my feelings and pushed you away and i was an idiot but now i realized now. i'm sorry about the other day, i shouldn't have said that but now i can see it, that i really like you", you continue in one breath as you look at mingyu.

mingyu falters, trying to hide the smile that so desperately wants to burst across his face. "damn, i didn't think you'd be so upfront about it", he tells as he smiles at you finally. "so you finally decided that you like me huh", he teases, taking a stride ahead as you take a step back until you're backed up against the door. mingyu stands in front of you, his arms on both sides of your body. he leans in ever so slightly. "y-yeah", you reply softly as you look at his lips.

mingyu smiles and you can't take it anymore. you lean forward and kiss him, melting right into his arms as his hands move to your waist, pulling you against him. god you had missed this. his lips were soft and they moved against yours making you dizzy. "i missed you", you whisper against his lips and he lets out a soft grunt. "me too baby but i knew you'd come around", he says. he sees your furrowed brows and realizes you didn't remember the drunk confession you had made to him.

"you don't remember? that night you called me over and like told me everything and confessed when you were drunk. i was just waiting for you to tell me when you were sober", he tells, kissing your jaw. "i really need to cut down on alcohol", you mutter and he chuckles. you find his lips again and kiss him. "you're really darn stubborn you know", mingyu tells you once he breaks away making you whack his arm.

he grins as he chases after your lips again, guiding you to the couch, pulling you on top of him, never once breaking away, making you breathless once again. "you now owe me another meal", he mumbles between kisses. "hm", you mumble, pecking his nose.

"be my boyfriend?", you ask, looking at him and he grins at that word. "whatever you want baby, i'm all yours", he tells as he kisses you again and you get lost in the feeling of his kisses and how his lips feel on yours.

it's been about three months since you and mingyu have been dating after you finally came to your senses and finally acknowledged your feelings about him. and honestly you were so happy. mingyu was sweet, funny, honest, passionate, and still annoyingly attractive but who were you to complain because you had him all to yourself now.

you're at mingyu's place because you're finally keeping your end of the deal and cooking another meal for him because you still owed mingyu one last meal, and he wasn't going to let you forget about it. after months of nagging and forgetting, remembering and nagging again, here you are, cooking him a meal.

"i really didn't think you'd make me cook for you again after i admitted how i felt like that's just petty", you tell. "we made a deal hm and it still has to be fulfilled", he counters. "i was glad you forgot about it...until now", you mumble and he chuckles.

you had prepared pork tonkatsu with some sides and you set everything on the table. "looks good", he says. "of course, this is like my specialty", you tell proudly with a smile. you watch as mingyu takes a bite and chews. "it's...better than i expected", he admits and you smile. "see, everyone loves it"

oh, and mingyu still loves to tease you about how you were 'playing hard to get' on purpose. "you know i still don't get why you hated me", he asks after dinner, where you both are sitting on the couch, having some cake mingyu bought.

"i didn't hate you", you defend. "liar, you totally hated me like i swear i saw lasers shooting from your eye the first time we met", he counters and you roll your eyes at his exaggeration.

"i just...i don't know, i thought you were so full of yourself and too cocky...and too good looking", you tell mumbling the last part. "hm what was that baby?", he prods, as he puts his plate down. "nothing", you tell. "speak up baby", "that you were too good looking oh my god", you tell, annoyed.

''you left out the most important part". "what?", you ask, confused. "that you were dying to sleep with me", he completes, with a stupid smirk.

"mingyu!", you exclaim, whacking his arm as he laughs. "i was not okay", you tell, putting down your plate too. "i just-" "was so desperate for me", he says, finishing the sentence for you, making you glare at him as he leans closer, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

"you're so annoying", you huff. "only for you", he replies, as he leans in to kiss you and you get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours.

"you need to cook me something next time", you mumble as you pull away. "hm whatever you want", he says as he chases after your lips again, making you melt in his embrace.

taglist: @joshuaahong @naaaaafla

i'd love to know what you thought :) reblogs appreciated <3

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kaicubus · 1 year

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All That You Want | Hantengu Clones

This is a choose your own path style fanfiction!! At the end of this post there will be four links with descriptions of where you want to go, and what character you’ll end up reading about. All of these outcomes are 18+ so readers beware.

cw : mentions of killing, actual killing, cursing, demon slayer activities.

Art by Mdwyer5 on DeviantArt

You are a hashira. You reside amongst the strongest team of swordsmen that have been trained for years to put an end to all demon kind, no matter how vile, disgusting, big or small, the creatures can be. It is your duty and purpose to kill each and every single one.

At first, you had joined the Demon Slayer Corps to find out who you wanted to be in life. While others had their own personal motives, yours was somewhat introspective and thoughtful, not wanting to cause any disruption in the peace that was unknowing to your peers. You tended to float around quietly, observing everyone as they planned, trained, and feasted with everyone else, making memories and laughing with each other.

A part, no, every part of you wanted that. But even when you had passed all the tests and gained your title as a hashira, you still felt like a lowly swordsman and nothing else. You had thought there was just a few more tasks that needed to be done in order to find your own personalized breathing technique that each other hashira possessed. Some unbeatable task never done before.

Everyone had always made light of the situation to help boost your spirits, but it always reminded you that no matter how anyone looked at you, they would always pity you. With no breathing style, there was a severe disadvantage and low chance of you actually fighting the demons your fellow hashiras slayed. This time was different though.

Over the past few days, you had overheard one of your fellow hashiras talking about a demon of the twelve kizuki, a hierarchical ranking of only the most strongest demons. More specifically, the fourth Upper Moon. Hantengu. From what you know, Hantengu is a demon that holds great power, despite keeping the appearance of an old, frail man, with a growing bulge on his forehead. His blood demon art enables him to split himself into individual clones of himself and create entities that represent four main emotions : rage, pleasure, joy, and sorrow. Each of them hold their own incredible power through their thoughts and feelings of the main body, Hantengu, or the cowardly emotion of fear. You didn’t know how his demon blood art was activated, but there was only one way to find out.

No other hashira has worked their way up to meet or even seen the fourth Upper Moon, but not even the strongest of your peers were quick enough to act as you did.

There was only one way to prove to them that you are worthy of your status as a fellow hashira, and only one way to finally find your breathing technique, alone, and on your own. That was to find Hantengu and slay him, all of him.

The journey itself proved to be long and boring, as per usual. Yet you refused to think of anything other than Hantengu. Nothing else could take your attention off your sword, all the sharp edges that could seamlessly cut through any demons flesh. It was unbreakable, and it’s never met it’s match before. If Hantengu is who everyone says he is, be heading him would be easier than any task you’ve had, you’re confident.

When you arrive to Hantengu’s hidden location, you’re able to sneak in quietly and quickly, practically merging with the shadows. A faint smell of dust and mothballs fills your senses, an indication of just how untouched the rest of the area must be besides the single room Hantengu would be hiding in. Your eyes follow the ceiling and trace the walls above and you start to search for the demon, not making any sound as you do so. To catch him off guard would give you an even better advantage that you already had, but your element of surprise almost always goes undetected.

You start walking around and looking in possible rooms he could be in, and after a few minutes of searching, you let out a deep sigh and come to the conclusion that Hantengu isn’t here and you wasted your time.

That was, until you stood face to face with Hantengu himself, or what at least appeared to be a miserable, frail demon—fitting his description perfectly. He’s crouched and hiding…under a table? You knew what he was capable of, but looking at the heavy lidded eyes of an emaciated entity, you can’t help but feel pity on it. Just like you’ve done for yourself for so long.

Taking a step forward, your feet glide against the bamboo flooring, crunching down on the thin material. Hantengu, now aware of your presence, skitters backwards and falls on his back. The sight makes you cringe. He sounds like bones clattering. His greasy, shoulder length hair appears to be thinning, and his sad head seems to be deprived of all hair follicles.

You hold your ground. Surely, this had to be Hantengu’s true form. The cowardly nature of such a miserable creature fits how he’s described, but you can’t help but wonder how he’s capable of such power.

He’s covered in veins and wrinkles and his horns are barley larger than the diameter of his arms. If you blew on him, he would vanish.

“What…What are you doing here…you…human?” He sounds unsure of himself, still, his voice squeaking and breaking as if he hasn’t spoken in years.

“My name is Y/n, I know exactly who you are Hantengu.” You point an accusing finger at the shivering demon. He instantly falls to his face and bows his head.

“I know of no such thing! I’m innocent! Completely innocent! You can’t take me away! I did nothing wrong!”

Your eyes flutter as you’re taken off guard. “Uhm. Woah, calm down. This won’t hurt. Jeez…”

Hantengu looks up from his vein clustered hands, pointing a slender finger towards you, “It’s hashiras like you who made me! You! You’re responsible for this! Look at me!” He lurches forward but steps on his black kimono and trips on the throbbing bump on his forehead. He makes a muffled ‘ouch!’ sound and tries getting up, but gets stopped when he realizes his horns pierced through the flooring.

“Just…answer me. Why are you here?” Hantengu plucks himself from the bamboo floor and hunches his back into a protective shell-like posture, almost like a loafing cat, all for security.

“Hantengu of the fourth Upper Moon, I’m sorry, but I have to—“

Suddenly, he cries out, “I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna! I was hiding from you demon slayers! Why did you go and have to find me! I didn’t do anything wrong!!!”

Your eyebrow twitches. “You’ve taken multiple innocent lives, feasted on their flesh and blood, and now you’re hiding because you’re too scared to admit what you’re doing is wrong. Really fucked up. Don’t you know, or have any bit of consciousness left inside you to know that?”

“No!” He shouts but scurries back into a wall, “I don’t know what you’ve heard but it’s not right! Don’t accuse me of something I didn’t do! That’s wrong! You’re the villain here!”

“I’m no villain!”

“Yuh huh.” Hantengu covers his face with his hands and hides, “You’re trying to kill me!”

“No! Well, yes! But—“

“HA! See! You’re trying to kill me!”

You let out a loud groan that spooks the demon, “I’m going to kill you because all I want is to be someone! I’m not letting you stand in my way of getting what I want.”

He stares at you with his sunken in, red eyes, and through his prominently downward placed eyebrows. “Well, that’s a selfish reason.”

“IT’S NOT!” You stomp your foot and Hantengu screeches, lifting his arm protectively over his face. “I’ll make it quick. This has gone on long enough and you’re fucking annoying.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You’re so fucking old but you act like a child. Having a tantrum like this, you’re a coward!”

“You act like a child. You’re a coward!”

Hantengu’s mocking pushes off you the edge of insanity. To the point where you can’t take it anymore, he keeps whining and begging for his life, shaking and shivering with the fear that embodies his entire existence. Your head starts to spin.

“Enough! Enough! STOP IT!” You grab onto your sword tighter and fix your stance, “You’re so annoying!”

“No!” He chokes on his tears and coughs, hacking phlegm and saliva onto the tips of your shoes, “I’m not! You are! You aren’t leaving me alone!”

“That’s because—you know what.” You stop talking and bow your head, tilting the nichirin blade of your sword lower down to the demon, “Hantengu of the twelve Upper Moons, rest easy now and don’t ever come back.”

You quickly approach Hantengu, clutching your sword handle in your curled fists. The blinding blade flashes the demons fearful reflection into his eyes and glistens yours on the other side. He opens his mouth to beg for his life one last time, but by the time you see his teeth, the job is already done.

With a swift slice of your sword, you deliver a clean cut blow to the middle of Hantengu’s neck. Just like you trained to do. Seeing all his blood spill out of his neck and head felt good, relieving to say the least since you won’t be able to hear the squeaky, whiny voice of him ever again. His blood paints the walls and every surface it can touch, demon blood soaking the withered bamboo flooring and paper doors. You almost felt bad for making such a mess.

But, when you think it’s finally done and over, suddenly Hantengu’s head smacks against the floor and bounces up, making a disgusting ‘splat!’ sound before remaining afloat in air, giving enough room for his demon blood art to begin.

Hearing all the bones crackling and breaking sends shivers down your spine, squishing and squelching sounds emitting from Hantengu’s new slowly forming body. Unable to look away, you’re forced to watch as a new entity sprouts and grows, rather quickly, from seemingly nothing. Only this time, it was no where near as weak as Hantengu was. This time, the demon forming and standing in front of you was nearly twice your height, and from what you can tell, dressed in nothing but black hakama pants, stronger horns and closed eyes.

That’s all you manage to see before your instincts come in and you start running. Where to? You decide.

> Up the mountains, hopefully fast enough he won’t catch you.

> Into the forest, where you can hide behind the trees to catch a breath.

> Into an open area, where you can have all sorts of ranges and motions.

> Out into a flower field, where hopefully you’ll have an advantage that gives you an upper hand.

#kaicubus #demon slayer #demon slayer fic #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer fanfiction #fanfiction #kimetsu no yaiba #kny fanfic #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #hantengu #hantengu clones #choose your path

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protectionsquad24601 · 6 months

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People who say "I don't like asoue bc it's formulaic" miss the point bc

-it starts as a formula, a cycle of the Baudelaires being abused and mistreated bc IT'S A CYCLE THAT THEY'RE STUCK IN!! A cycle of evil and ignorence. They're being tossed around by the world and they need to get out of the cycle themselves.

-the cycle: they go to a new guardian, led by Mr. Poe, who ignores the problems about the situation. Count Olaf is stalking them, trying to kill the Baudelaires and steal their fortune.

-as is the rules with poetry and writing, you have to repeat something a few times to mess around with the formula, which you see is changed as early as the Miserable Mill. There's a poetic quality to the repetition, as well as when and how it changes.

-as it goes on, you see their passiveness being increasingly replaced with action that culminates at the end of the Vile Village, where they run away. In doing so, they've cut off the "new guardian" element to the cycle.

-they're trying to save the Quagmires and figure things out on their own. But two crucial elements to their cycle haven't been broken: they still are trying to contact Mr. Poe and they are still being hunted by Count Olaf.

-in the Grim Grotto, they break Mr. Poe out of the cycle.

-in the first chapter of the Bad Beginning, Mr. Poe meets the children on Briny Beach to inform them of the death of their parents. They come with him.

-at the end of Grim Grotto, they meet him again at Briny Beach and refuse to come, choosing instead to listen to a mysterious stranger and coded message. They choose autonomy. They choose to try to learn and figure things out. Active, not passive.

-in the Penultimate Peril is an effort to cut ties with Count Olaf once and for all as well as obtaining roles from both sides of VFD.

-but they can't get rid of Olaf and they can't let him go. Bc the last part of the cycle needs to be permanently put to rest.

-YES; Olaf hunts them throughout every book. That's. The. Point.

-Olaf needed to DIE before they could leave the island in The End.

-Olaf needed to die before they could move on.

-Olaf's death cut the final current in their cycle, ending the formula and therefore ending the series. Cutting out all the "repetitive" elements of the series made it finally end.

-they broke the cycle. That's why they could be free.

UGH I have so many thoughts

One day I'll write up this theory more cohesiveness.

#a series of unfortunate events #asoue #averse #lemony snicket #yes this is just a straight up rant #but im so sick of ppl complaining abt the formula #THATS THE POINT #rant #one of these days ill say this in a cohesive manner lol

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zeldasnotes · 1 year

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ASTRO OBSERVATIONS PART22🎄

For some reason Ive noticed that Virgo women adoooore Taurus men and vice versa. I know they trine but there is something special here.

I also noticed that Sagittarius Moons and Cancer Moons adore eachother. Once they meet they are inseperable.

If you have planets in the 8th house my advice to you is to always think about yourself first. Be extremely egoistic. Because you transform people. When people meet you they become better and then they leave. People want you to be their therapist, friend, personal trainer, personal advisor because they can sense your power. They want to take from you and have it to themselves. So be careful what you give and to who. Wait with giving your partner stuff until after you are married.

People with Mercury aspecting Pluto grew up in a home where there was a lot of backhanded comments or where the communication was toxic and sneaky and thats why Mercury/Pluto people think everything people say is a hidden dig towards them. They learned that behind every sentence there is a hidden meaning and now they analyze every word.

Biggie Smalls 11th house ruler is conjunct his Sun. He was very known for his friendship with tupac, also a suspect of Tupacs shooting. His image revolved a lot around friendships and groups.

I got my Moon in my 11th house and I will always respect a person whos humanitarian and fights for equality even if I dont like the person for personal reasons. While I could never respect someone who doesnt care.

My Valentine(447) conjunct a guys Sun got me acting crazy. Like I was so in love with him it was scary. It was the ”I would die for you” kind of love.

A pattern Ive noticed with men and their Venus sign when it comes to settling down:

Leo Venus: Goes for looks and confidence when choosing a life partner. They are the kindest and most generous men but they just NEED someone to show off.

Capricorn Venus: They need someone to build and empire with, they will choose stability and ambition over looks. They need the Blair Waldorf kind of woman. They need to be a powercouple.

Scorpio Venus: Sad but settles for someone who were not their first choice. The one who saves them but they never end up with ”that girl” and they keep dreaming of that special girl and stalks her on fb until they are like 80 years old.

Pisces Venus: They spend too much time dreaming of that perfect person while not even working on themselves to be someone that person would even want. Settles down with someone whos kind and feels bad for them.

Aquarius and Leo placements can sense when something is going to be fashion. They start wearing something and one year later everyone is wearing it.

Men with moon & venus in my 1st house always treats me like a Queen. I love them😭 They make me feel so beautiful❤️

In my opinion 8th house synastry is only nice when its with someone you are physically attracted to or have good synastry with otherwise its just annoying.

Every Sagittarius Venus Ive met had some kind of charm that made them very very popular without trying. They were also gorgeous. Two of my friends from high school had this and there were always some guy madly in love with them.

Ive met so many men with Venus aspecting Saturn who asked too much about my economy. Which was a huge turn-off for me. I showed them the door🚪

Lilith in the 2nd house cant go out without people commenting on their body or asking them where they bought their clothes. People are obsessed with their stuff.

Ive seen so many royal people who got Jupiter conjunct their IC. Or IC in Taurus. Example: Prince Harry, Queen Elizabeth, Kate Middleton.

Venus is pretty, Neptune is beautiful, Moon is cute, Mars is hot, Pluto is sexy, Saturn is perfect, Uranus is gorgeous, Mercury is foxy.

I notice that a modality, sign or even element can be prominent in a whole family or even a whole bloodline. In my family there is a dominance of cardinal energy. A lot of Aries Risings, Capricorn Risings, Cancer Moons and Capricorn Midheavens. So my family cares a lot about acting properly and to be respected. In my friends family there is fixed/scorpio dominance so there is a strong sense of loyalty and secrecy. In her family most family members dont even have social media, you never talk about a family member to outsiders, you spend holidays with family and dont invite friends etc. In my family image is everything and everyone is invited to make more connections. But in these families there is usually someone who lacks that energy and that person might be the black sheep of the family.

Pluto shows strong and intense emotions in the house it sits in. I know someone with Pluto in the 11th house and she got her best friends initials tattooed.💀

People with conjunctions to jupiter are just naturally funny.😂

People with personal planets in the 8th house experience more intense relationship because people who have conjunctions to their planets will also have planets in their 8th house. So they experience 8th house synastry even stronger than others. And if they have Lilith in the 8th house it will be extra strong because then they will have Lilith synastry with those who put planets in their 8th.

#astro notes #astrology #astro observations #astronotes #lilith #ascendant #lilith aspects #birth chart readings #astrotidbits

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mapoeggplant · 1 month

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skip to loafer chapter 60 analysis and brief character study on shima // spoilers

a light and fun chapter that hides something between the lines: how frankenstein's loneliness and revolt becomes a mirror for shima's feelings

(since the translation is very fresh, very very close to the release of the chapter, i will try to use the raws more. this is a way to make you curious to read the translation and also to support sensei in a way! hope you guys understand)

it's actually funny how much i'm surprised by every skip to loafer chapter. of course, some things i feel were expected to happen, but others appear suddenly and drive me completely crazy — that's the gift of takamatsu, who’s able to have fun with her own characters to the point of unfolding a delicate writing, that's much deeper than it appears to be.

i think it's cute and fun how shima's jealousy starts to be used as a comic relief in the story. it's something very innocent, which doesn't harm either party, but rather makes something new bubble up inside him, a feeling he wasn't familiar with before. he knows how it hurts to see mitsumi with other people and how he wants to be close to her, but he still doesn't have the necessary repertoire to express exactly what he feels.

and then, to add an additional element to the plot, sensei chooses frankenstein as the play for the school festival, shima's second great performance. she chooses a story of loneliness and desire, of a monster made of scraps of other people who tirelessly seeks his space in the world while being denied by his own creator — doesn't that sound a little familiar to you?

shima is, whether we like it or not, a fragment of other people's expectations. he is everything his mother wanted him to be, but also his broken expectations. he’s also made up of all the desires he represses and the times he was used by people as an object to be displayed. shima is a monster made of other people's expectations who seeks in other people's warmth a way to find a cure for his own loneliness.

and this ends up being even more explicit when he shows that he is truly happy and fulfilled when acting in the play. for the first time, he's not doing this for his mother or any adult's validation: he's doing it in the name of himself, his wants and his own way. he is slowly making peace with acting and his complex feelings surrounding it.

but, like it or not, shima still hasn't gotten rid of all his traumas, and this becomes slightly clear when sensei chooses to make a game with the lines of two different characters: shima and his internal monologue versus ujiie, a person who has slowly been causing him some complex feelings.

"i thought to myself it would be nice if i could perform this role better than anyone else" followed by "isn't that the bare minimum?". it's as if ujiie, unintentionally and through no fault of his own, was embodying a mixture of shima's personal ghosts and all the expectations that were thrown at him throughout his life.

isn't that the bare minimum? you've lived your whole life playing the role of someone who wasn't you, of a puppet. so...isn't that the least you could do? facing the scientist who created the monster, wouldn't that be a way of being able to face everything that was built in its place?

i think it's beautiful the way that sensei plays between shima's old feelings and these new ones that he's been discovering little by little. yes, he is finding happiness in acting again, finding his space in the world, but he is also developing a new feeling that he has never felt for anyone before. seeing mitsumi surrounded by so many other people gives him a somewhat irritating itch, which he himself doesn't know how to resolve — after all, he's a teenager, no teenager really knows how to resolve such complex feelings.

this makes him expose his neediness. seeing mitsumi, the girl he likes so much, surrounded by people who aren't him, makes him act like a needy teenager who doesn't know how to ask for attention.

different from what the girls thought at first, i don't think shima tried, in any way, to manipulate mitsumi. i really agree with yasaka on this part and i'll add even more: i believe that even he doesn't really know what he's doing. not even he knows exactly how he feels about mitsumi. but what he feels, at the moment, is an enormous desire to be with her and have her all to himself. he just needs to find a way to express his feelings in a clearer and more rational way (but i think that will take a while). It’s almost like the monster on his journey to find his beloved.

now about the other parts of the chapter: seeing the girls come together to discuss something that mitsumi was so afraid to tell before makes my heart fill with joy. seeing a group of girls so unique, so concerned about each other and so comfortable opening their hearts to each other makes me happy in a surreal way. i love, love, love the way in which sensei develops their friendship and how she always, always tries to show how much the girls are willing to help mitsumi even without knowing exactly how.

reading "yeah, none of us have that much experience with dating" is so cute to me. they are teenagers, they are also, for the first time, facing a wave of new feelings, new challenges — and the great luck is that they have each other to support and seek help.

i'm also very happy how yazaka is, little by little, gaining new friends and opening up more. i confess that in the past i didn't know exactly how to interpret her character, but now i want her to get more and more involved with girls. she deserves to have a group of friends who count on her to express doubts and seek help, just as she also needs that same support system.

well, as the girls said "all we can do is watch over them" and that's exactly all we can do too. i believe that this journey of self-discovery, for both shima and mitsumi, still has a long way to go and i think this is extremely special. this just shows how much they both love each other as people and are willing to try to meet each other halfway so that all their feelings are equalized.

once again, we have an amazing chapter in our hands. sensei keeps getting better and better, surprising us every damn time. i'm just so happy to be able to read such beautiful story and lucky to experience all of this. we're so damn lucky. remember: please support sensei if you can, by buying the chapters (via comic days or the online version of the magazine or the volumes). thank you SO MUCH for reading!! will love to discuss more with you all 💛

#skip to loafer #skip and loafer #skip to loafer chapter 60 #skip to loafer spoiler #skip and loafer spoilers #stl spoilers #A SHIMA CHAPTER IS A ME CHAPTER #I COULD ANALYZE THE SHIT OUT OF HIM FOR DAYS #MY BABY MY SON #I LOVE HIM SM #AND I LOVE FEMALE FRIENDSHIP SO MUCH #TAKAMATSU THE GENIUS YOU ARE #duckmetas

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oh-austin · 2 years

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lift a finger (austin butler)

summary: in which you're heavily pregnant on the set of elvis and austin is set on making sure you the most comfortable you can be

ask / prompt : Hi! Can you please do one where the reader is pregnant and Austin is just super overprotective and cute! You choose if you want to include the birth and make it extremely fluffy. I just thought this would be amazing.

authors note / warnings: mentions of pregnancy and vomiting! I chose not to put the birth and labour in because I have another piece planned for my inez and austin series coming soon!! we love dad!austin here <3

────── ∘◦❀◦∘

Nearing the end of your pregnancy, you thought you had faced the worst of it and it would be smooth sailing from here on out. Boy were you wrong.

It was hard being pregnant and married to an actor, the busy schedules and flying from location to location was hard to keep up with, but when you’re married to the man portraying Elvis Presley.. that’s a whole other story.

Austin constantly doted on you whenever he was given the opportunity, but since you were often at home whilst he was shooting- you never really gave him the chance. But since you were met with braxton hicks last week, your doctor has recommended always being in someone’s company; Austin made sure he was that someone.

If Austin was filming a scene in the hot sun, you were sitting under a sunshade in his chair. If the call time was until eleven o’clock at night, you were asleep nearby. Austin made sure he always had you close and somewhere that he could see you.

Usually, you wouldn’t complain about getting to see Austin work. Watching him in his element was truly something special, but over the last few days you’ve just wanted to lounge around in bed and maybe finish the nursery. But here you were, sat next to a bail of hay nearing nine pm as Austin and Tom filmed the carnival scenes.

“How you feeling, mamas?” Austin looked just delicious walking over to you in his black lace shirt. Reminded you of how you got pregnant in the first place. “You’re glowing,” He complimented you.

“I don’t feel like I’m glowing,” You admitted to him. It was a warm summer night in Queensland, the humidity was not your friend. Being in the northern parts of Australia came with its perks, the heat wasn’t one of them- especially when you’re eight months pregnant. “Your child has been kicking me all day,”

“My child, huh?” Austin laughed, he almost seemed offended. “How’s your stomach? Still feelin’ sick?”

“I don’t know if I’m just nauseous because I’m pregnant or because they’re moving so much,” You rubbed your hand over your belly, “But I’m starting not to care,”

“Did you want to head back to the trailer? Have you got water?” Austin looked around, “I asked to get you water like three takes ago,” Austin’s voice became frustrated when he noticed you only had your bag next to you, no water in sight.

“Hey, it’s okay! These people are here for you, not me,” You reminded him, “I don’t need water, I’m fine,” You reached for Austin’s hand the best you could and placed it on top of your belly. Like your baby knew that their daddy was there, a strong kick made you jolt in your seat.

“Hey!” Austin laughed, “You should be asleep, little miss,”

“We don’t even know if it’s a girl yet,” It was true, your gender reveal idea was canned as soon as filming picked up. Everyone that you really wanted to attend was in a different country anyway, so there really wasn’t much of a point. That and Austin loved surprises, but he was set on your baby being a little girl.

“Oh, she’s a girl,” Austin crouched down, giving your belly a kiss, “Ain’t that right, Pres?” Austin had been adamant that you were going to name your child Presley. She was made on set baby, only fair we name him after the man who brought us here, he would argue. You weren’t letting that happen.

Austin Butler, the man who played Elvis Presley named his daughter after him? You could see the headlines now.

“We’re not calling her Presley!” You tilted his chin up to look at you.

Austin’s face broke out in a cheeky grin as he stood back up, “You said she’s a girl,” He sang. As Baz called him back over to reshoot the scene, Austin danced away from you joking whilst softly chanting ‘girl, girl, girl’. You shook your head at him and laughed.

Soon, Baz had Austin film some solo shots at the carnival, making use of the set whilst they were here. Whilst Austin was busy shooting, Tom soon made his way over to you.

“Y/N, how are you?” He asked. Tom might have been one of the most genuine men you had ever met. Soft spoken and kind, he had the ability to make anyone feel safe and calm.

“I’m tired,” You admitted to him, “Probably not as tired as you are in that costume,” Tom looked barely anything like himself, it was incredible really.

“You get used to it,” He chuckled, taking a seat down in the chair next to yours, “How much longer now?” He asked.

“Three weeks,” Your eyes widened, your heart would always race whenever you admitted it out loud. Soon, you and Austin would no longer be a family of two- forever three of you.

“Wow!” He marvelled, “Not long then. The first one is always an adventure,”

“She’s been a pretty big adventure,” You laughed, patting your belly, “I’ll tell you that,” You felt a kick back in response.

“So you’re having a girl! How exciting,” Tom sat forwards the best he could, he was always so attentive in any conversation. “My second child was a girl, I love being her dad- Austin’s gonna love it too,”

“Well, we don’t know if it’s a girl, Austin just thinks it is,” You told him. Tom watched as you looked across the carnival and over at Austin, he could see the admiration in your eyes for him. Reminded him of his wife and himself. “We don’t even have a name yet,”

“Well what names do you like?” He asked.

You thought to yourself for a second, “I like Harper for a girl, Austin doesn’t like it though,” You laughed, “He says it doesn’t ‘work’”

“You’ll know when you find the right name,” Tom admitted, “You’ll understand what he means when he says ‘it works’, I promise you that,” He laughed.

“Thank you, Tom” You turned back to look at him. After a few more minutes of conversation, Baz called Tom back for another couple scenes and you were sat alone once more. Well, not completely alone- and your baby was definitely trying to remind you of that.

The longer that you sat, the more sick you began to feel. Your stomach felt like it was cramping and turning at the same time. You tried some deep breaths to calm yourself down, but you couldn’t.

Austin’s manager noticed that you weren’t feeling well, once you had to rest your head in your hands.

“Y/N, you okay?” James leant down and spoke with a quiet voice, knowing you weren’t someone who wanted the attention on themselves.

You shook your head and swallowed the lump in your throat. “I think I’m gonna be sick,”

James, with a gentle hand on your back, lead you back to Austin’s trailer and helped you into the bathroom. It was hard for you to get close to the ground these days, but at that moment- your body knew you needed to.

You threw up your dinner, your throat burned as you dry heaved over the toilet. James was kind enough to hold your hair back for you. After a few minutes, you were rested against the wall of Austin’s bathroom, James passing you a bottle of water from the miniature fridge. You thanked him softly and apologised to him.

James asked if you would be okay as you begged him to go back to work, not needing people to watch over you. You were pregnant, not helpless. So James went back to set as you sat there taking slow sips of your water.

As Baz yelled cut and announced that they were now wrapped for the night, Austin was relieved that he could now spend the rest of his night with his wife and their baby. But as he looked over to where she was supposed to be, he found his chair empty.

He should’ve noticed you were gone. Austin mentally cursed himself, always his own biggest critic. He was too invested in filming the scene he could spare a single glance over at you, he was so stupid, he thought to himself.

“James!” Austin called over to his manager. James looked nervous as he rushed over to Austin.

“I’ve just come from the trailers,” James explained, Austin noticed his uneasy nature, “Y/N has been sick, so I’ve left her in there to rest,”

“Shit!” Austin sighed, already leaving the conversation once he heard you weren’t well, “Why don’t people come and tell me these things!” He shouted back at James, “She’s pregnant!”

Austin wasn’t an angry person, he wasn’t someone to express his feelings of frustration. Rather keep them to himself and write them down in his journal later. But when it came to you and his baby, it was a different story.

Austin was overcome with anger when he saw you sitting on the bathroom floor, struggling to get back up. “Mamas, what are you doin’ down there?” Even when upset, the Elvis drawl stayed with Austin. He rushed over to you and put an arm underneath you, ready to help you to your feet.

“I was sick, I’m just trying to get up and brush my teeth,” You explained to Austin. As soon as you were back on your feet, your ankles ached once more- oh they joys of motherhood.

“Sick? How bad?” Austin put his hand to your forehead, trying to feel for a fever, “You need me to get the doctor? She’s probably not left yet-“

“Austin,” You cupped his face with your hands, “I’m okay,”

He seemed to calm down visibly in your embrace. Austin leant into your soft touch. “Promise me you’re okay?”

“I promise! I’m just pregnant, pregnant people throw up” You talked slower to try and bring Austin back down to earth. You took a few breaths with Austin before letting go of his face, going to grab your toothbrush from the bench.

“No,” Austin beat you to it, “You’re not allowed to lift a finger for the rest of the night, you’re on my time now,”

You rolled your eyes at him, taking your toothbrush back. “Aren’t you on the clock?”

“As of five minutes ago? No, no I’m not,” Austin smirked, “So, brush your teeth and get in bed,”

“Did you want to brush them for me?” You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Shh,” Austin grabbed your face softly and kissed your head, “Get brushing,”

Although Austin was doting and protective over you, you knew that Tom was right- Austin was going to be a great dad to your little girl.

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #elvis 2022 #austin butler one shot #austin butler x reader #austin butler fluff #austin butler drabble #dad!austin #celeste writes fics

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netherfeildren · 5 months

Text

The Cassandra Complex : Interlude : Tartarus

Series Masterlist

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence; Torture; Murder; Blood and gore; Self harm; Suicidal ideations; Depression; Unreliable narrator; Alcohol and drug use; Overall very dark themes

A/N: The chapter is what the tags warn. Please, heed them carefully. Short because it's only an interlude, but the next chapter is almost done!

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 3.5K

Read on AO3

INTERLUDE : TARTARUS

Can you eat winter? […] Can you live six months inside a frozen pear? […] Can you punctuate yourself in silence?

Anne Carson, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry

You are captured at the start of the cold season.

The first man you ever killed had been old. Weathered and beaten down by the galaxy and life, and forgotten or absconded to a decrepit and abandoned planet. Once thriving and rich, it had been bled dry and starved by the Empire, and now remained to stand only as a reminder to others as what not to be, a warning of how you’d end up if you did not submit.

Your master had hunted him for months, a mania about the search that was mouth slicked ravenous and vicious. Something sick about the way he’d obsessed about the man, murmuring his name over and over again at all hours until you were sure you knew the vowels and consonants of it better than your own. You’d never discovered the root of the obsession, the reason for the killing, and when you’d finally found him, he was not at all what you’d expected; brittle boned, white of hair, skin soft and folded over so that it sagged and drooped around his frame, seeming to hang around him out of mere sheer habit.

You’d swept into his mind, pilfered and pillaged and violated it; his past, his whole life, his family, cradled in the blink of your eye. You’d pulled his joints from their sockets, his fingernails from their beds, and his eyes from their cavities. You’d taken him apart piece by little piece, a slow going saturation of pain until little remained of the creature. Until the final piece you’d pulled from him was his breath, his very life, swallowed and settled heavy into your own soul.

You had been very young when you’d killed him, a girl of only seven years old.

You’d once heard that stars are made of a different matter than the four worldly elements – a quintessence – that also happens to be what the human psyche is made of. Which is why man’s spirit corresponds to the stars. You’d swallowed so many souls thinking they might be stars during that time. Perhaps, in an attempt to take some light within you, infuse yourself in the goodness of another’s quintessence. Young and naive and untried. You’d learned eventually how wrong you were. The damage you’d unknowingly wrought upon yourself. And when you remember it all now, the unending reaping, you think: I was young once, and you wish you could cling to that child, beg her to forgive you, beg her to run earlier.

Perhaps, that had been the beginning of the end, and everything after that had been nothing more than one eternally futile battle towards inevitable failure.

For some idiotic reason, you return to Corellia after you part ways with him. Idiotic or desperate, who can really tell, but without a doubt, bitter and angry and devastated. Filled with a keen missing and a fury and an outrage that he’d left you, that you’d allowed yourself to be left. That you’d pushed him away. That really, the destruction of everything was your fault. The day it had suddenly hit you that you’d destroyed everything for nothing, that you’d destroyed the two of you for no real reason at all except for petty and inconsequential fear, had been a monumental sort of devastation. You’d not been able to make it out of your dingy rented bed for days afterwards. And so you’d chosen to believe that this was the end of destiny, rather than the beginning of what had always been fated to you. For choosing to believe that you’d destroyed it yourself was better than the truth, that he had never really been meant to be yours in the first place. And if it were anything else, you’d finish it, destroy it to completion. It if was something less, you’d smash it like a rock, tear it as if it were a piece of parchment, but it is not, for it is your heart, your very heart, your memory.

The only thing left.

While you’d been with him you’d thought that you were healing, that you were healed. That you’d been made whole in his image. That after everything, after so much darkness, one single silver flame to illuminate the night would shine a light on your newfound completeness. But you’d realized, later, when it was too late, how wrong you’d been to think so. Love does not mend the torn seams back into rightness – it fractures the whole thing wide open, splits you down the middle.

And you’re so full of the most poisoned sort of regrets, a living, breathing, fire filled thing that seemed to exhume you from your own misery and would not let you exist peacefully in the deathlessness you’d have chosen for yourself. But it was impossible to go backwards now. Like any unloved thing, you’d not been sure if you really existed until he’d put his hands on you, and now, to have been forced to return to that half life, to be forced to exist in the purgatory of his aftermath – it was fury inducing, rage awakening.

All my hurts hurt worse now, and there is no escape and no reprieve, and it always feels as if the sky seems to peer down on me in a strange and pitiful way. How did that feel? It asks. I’m sorry I caused harm, I reply.

Time no longer exists, and so all you know is that it’s been an unknowable amount of nothing since you’d last seen him.

You ache all the time, try and forget, can’t help but remember

You’d always known exactly how it would play out. Step by step the course your life would take – the Force guided you, and yet, you were still lost. You were still confused. You’d known that he would leave, you’d always known. Just as you’d known you would be the reason he left. You’d waited for it, and yet, when the moment arrived for him to go, you were shocked. And hurt. You were hurt that he would leave you even though you had pushed him away, even though you had always expected it to happen, even though you were the perpetrator of your own abandoning and had always known that you would be.

And so, perhaps, you’d continued to return to Corellia despite knowing it was dangerous for you there, that there were whispers of a dark creature scurrying along the planet’s underbelly, that they’d seen your face all that time ago and rumors still abounded. But it had been the last place you’d found each other, and so some idealistic, stupidly desperate part of you thought that, perhaps, fate would look upon you kindly once again. That dark red thread of fate woven into action one more time, ringing taut with purpose and destiny.

Perhaps, you return looking for a fight or a beating or some form of punishment, certain that you’d find it in that cesspool of vice and crime and corruption. In that place that knows what sort of creature you pretend not to be.

Eventually, however, you get more than you’d bargained for. Or maybe, precisely what you’d wanted.

You’re betrayed by a slippery little Twi’lek. One who’d pretended at being interested in some easy, fun drinking and debauchery. One who you were not aware had awaited the return of a prize such as you for a long, long time. One who’d held the image of your face and your power in the cradle of her mind, ravenous for the moment when she’d finally be afforded a taste and a pay out.

If you could not lose yourself in anything else, him, or even something worse – the dark called to you again so often now, it frightened you – then you’d lose yourself in a bottle, a game of Sabacc, even, on occasion, or when things were particularly dire, a little bit of Spice, just to take the edge off. To make you forget. The smell of the past is everywhere, the smell of too many illusions, too many truths, and you try and resist all the time, you feel yourself actively resisting. But you lie in the awareness of it so often, in the miserable hold of rented beds where no comfort and no warmth is ever to be found on so many nights, that at any moment something terrible could happen. It’s not gone, that coldness inside of you. It’s not gone, the dark side, and it calls to you louder now that he is absent.

You consider yourself in new and strange lights now. A miasma of girl and power and tragedy and myth, always, always the myth of you. You are aware of yourself, of that myth, in so many lights.

Violence has changed me; my body has grown cold. Now there is only mind, cautious and dim, with the sense it is being twisted. I have never loved being alive, and it is difficult to remember that I should.

Din has changed me; my heart is half stone, half devoured. The sun has gone away, tucked inside of him, and I am always cold now, and even though I can't see it anymore, him, it’s comforting to know he’s still out there, somewhere. That the sun still exists.

And so, in need of credits, the Twi’lek finds it easier to sell you off to the highest bidder when she first captures you – that being a league of fanatics who had, at the height of the Empire, venerated the Sith as lords – Gods even – who bent the knee to the dark side in hopes of a power greater than they even really knew the truth of.

Drugged and cuffed after you’d been too stupid or uncaring to even try and defend yourself, you let them take you. You let them take you. You remember that first night in the hole in the ground you’d sentenced yourself to, before she’d left you to your fate with your captors, arm broken, bone jutting grotesquely from your skin, she’d looked down at you from her great height as you lay limp and ready for more breaking on the dirty ground of the cell deep in that Tartarean pit, brow split open and drooling crimson, glassy eyes wide and unseeing, filled only with the memories of gleaming metal, she’d called you a monster with the greatest of contempt and hatred in her eyes. And you’d laughed and laughed and laughed at the reality of you now, sanity gone away, only a little bit, only a little bit; after all, there had always been more madness than goodness anyways.

And you’d wanted to cry: I am not a monster! I am not a monster! But you knew she would not believe you.

This is only what you deserve, creature. Spit from her mouth like venom. You think of the Thalassian crone, all that time ago, or only yesterday: How does it feel to be nothing? She was kinder to you than you know this will be, and for a brief moment you pretend to miss her, fantasize with the idea of him coming to save you once again.

You’d wanted to lie and say that you were not a monster any longer, that you’d changed, that you were better, different, but that would have been a lie, for at your core you knew there would always live within you something of a slightly monstrous countenance, no matter what you did or made of yourself. And what you wanted to say, even more than that, was that perhaps a monster was not such a terrible thing to be. Perhaps, if you’d ever been given the chance, you could have served as a shelter and a warning, all at once, for a family you’d never been allowed to have. Perhaps, if you’d ever been given the opportunity to have been that, nothing much else would have really mattered.

You want to tell her his name. To let it serve as proof of the only goodness that has ever lived inside of you. But you do not. And you let them keep you for far too long, lying in that dark, damp hell, letting them hurt you.

She returns often, the pretty, purple Twi’lek with the sharp teeth. She takes Din’s earrings from you, that first day, and if you’d still had tongue and teeth and voice to thank her for the chance to look upon them, you would have.

They pull your skin from your bones and your bones from your skin, over and over again, and you try and lie that you don’t know what you did to deserve this, but you do. You do know. You remember the old man, the very first one, you think of all the countless others after him, the flash of shrieking beskar. You remember every single crime and sin and face and scream. Every scream, but loudest of all, your own.

You exist only in thousands of agonies.

And they’re creative in their torture and punishment, caring in the imagination of it. They burn the flesh from your bones only so that the Force can heal you back to strength. Slowly, excruciatingly, keeping you drugged and chained, diminishing your connection to yourself. Beaten and flogged and savaged over and over again. You think, or you tell yourself, that you feel little of it, or none at all.

More than anything, you feel so acutely how little it all matters.

Why have you done this to yourself? You’re sure you should ask. I don’t know. What is this all about? Be honest. Anger. Are you angry? Yes. You already knew this.

Perhaps, your mind has finally broken and fragmented in a real and irrevocable way. Perhaps, this is finally destiny finding itself.

You lie in the dark and let it hold you as it did when you were a child, alone and enslaved. You watch the water snake through the cracks of the stone walls, and you are so small, and suddenly, there’s a hole in your cheek and you heal and heal and tear apart again; taste the outside air with your newly grown tongue, and the blood that pools in your mouth reminds you that you’re still alive and made of nothing but regret.

You hold one single comfort like a newly blooming flower in your mind, the only thing that remains: We were together once. I forget the rest, before, now, it no longer matters. We were together once.

For an interminable age, you allow yourself to be poked and prodded, cut and flayed, experimented on – the silly notion these cultists hold that perhaps they could harness your power for themselves, bottle it. Hurt, you allow yourself to be hurt for too long. They never break you beyond repair, but they get very close, many times, and sometimes, you hope it’ll be too much, it needs to be too much just once, and then it could, perhaps, all end.

Your bones ache and wounds open where the too sharp edges of you abrade against the too hard stone, and you relish in the healing and reopening, relish in the suffering. You remind yourself that you chose this, that you continue to actively choose this, that all your choices are yours now, even the losses, and you caress that secret piece of you in the furthest, darkest recess of your mind, your lifeline, and it feels so good to finally be in control of the things that hurt you. Even if it is a false sense of control, even if it’s all only a reality of your mind's own making.

And sometimes, when the delirium has sunk its fangs in you entirely, and you almost don’t know who you are, you think: surely he’ll come to get me. He doesn’t know you’re here. Surely I didn’t fall in love with him just for this. He doesn’t know you’re here. If he knew, he’d come, he would, he would.

Two years is a very long time to be away from a thing you need so much.

I no longer care what sound it makes when I am silenced.

Two years is a very long time to forget.

If I die, it is not this life I will miss, it is him I will miss.

But an even longer time to remember.

How to forget? How to forget? How to forget?

Eventually, you lose yourself, and the brightness of torture becomes the brightness of night, and you’re gone within it.

You consider yourself: the myth, the archetype, the soul, me, me, the Cassandra, the Cassandra.

[Scream] [Scream] [Scream] [Scream]

Din.

You cling to him through the night, through the brightness, through the nothing. You dream of his hands and his hair and the vividness of him. You dream of that pure, golden heart. You dream of beskar and space and being loved.

You dream of being loved.

You do not choose the way you live. You do not live; you are not allowed to die.

You don’t know how long you allow yourself to be held within this womb of punishment, but you know that it is a very long time.

And then one day, unbidden and unexpected: one moment, you’re hungry, a strange and cold and gnawing hunger like something you’ve never felt before. A hunger of the soul. Your mind, so hazy that sometimes you don’t know if you remember your own name, that at certain instances the only image you can recall is the gleam of beskar – you smell vetiver and sweat and blaster smoke and the leather oil of his gloves. You hear his voice. The feeling of his hand in yours the second before you wake, and for a single moment before your eyes open, you’re somewhere else besides this damp Tartarus you’ve condemned yourself to, somewhere green and alive with him.

The third time you meet: You blink, and it’s all darkness and steel bars, and then, a dim light far in the distance? No. A blade of silver beskar.

He’s here. Near.

She had said to you once, your now made sweet Twi’lek: You’re going to die here. Surely, not soon. But one day, we’ll pull your life from you. Once we’ve pulled everything else, taken all we can, we’ll take your life too. And then you’ll be nothing, erased from memory, erased from myth. Nothing at all forever.

You’d taken her words with consideration. You felt strongly that you could not die any longer in any way that truly mattered. If nothing more, than for the memory of him, the memory of that togetherness could never be taken from you, it would always exist and could never be killed, and so what more mattered after that? Nothing really. They could take your life, your power, but they could not take Din, they could not take the myth of what the two of you had created together.

And always the myth, always the myth. You understand now, after an age in something worse than darkness, that you are yourself the creation of myth, and myth is indestructible.

She is made sweet and venerating in the end, and she dies so beautifully, your Twi’lek, and in the singular instant before you pull her heart from her chest, you recall her words from before, how like the Thalassian she’d seemed, nothing at all forever, and you tell her the second truth you’ve now come to understand more surely than anything else: “Only a Sith deals in absolutes, and I am no longer a Sith.”

You free yourself from the cruel and unforgiving hands of the dark for the second time in your life.

You’d thought once that you’d never again let yourself be captured, never again enslaved, and to have let yourself end up here like this of your own volition, your own wanton stupidity and miserable desire for punishment, this is the lowest a creature has fallen in a millenia, surely, and he’s on the same planet as you now, and you’re filled with the sudden blinding terror that he’d somehow know you’re here. That he’d find you. And that he should see you like this, brought so low and so broken, it would be worse than anything, any pain or suffering or torture you could have ever endured.

And so you call to that dormant tether you’d held this entire time, to the Force, to yourself, and you kill your captors. All of them. In one fell swoop. Without much of even a single thought on your part. And you thank her, when you pull his stolen, blood splattered earrings from her ears, for teaching you so much, for reminding you that power without conscience is a terrible thing, and that you know this better than anyone. And you walk out into the cold and dark night, silent and obscure as a shadow can be, even more so, if possible, prepared to make your unnoticed escape from him.

But of course, he finds you anyway.

Chapter IX

Netherfieldren's Masterlist

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thevillainswhore · 8 months

Text

Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

Pairing: Stalker!IT/tech!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

(snippets/mentions of Carter Bazien x F!Reader and Ending, Beginnings!Frank x F!Reader)

Summary: Bucky, the IT and technology expert of your office, has been secretly obsessed since the moment he set his sights on sensitive, naive, little you. But, your only fault is your repetitive ability to get your heartbroken by fuck boys. So, naturally, he has to do whatever it takes to make you see he’s perfect for you… right?

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Stalking, mentions of smut (p in v, male masturbation) violence, grievous bodily harm, dark elements, possessive behaviour, hacking, reader is very naive, Bucky is a hell of a warning here (will add more with the upcoming chapters) PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS - THIS IS A DARK FIC!!!

A/N: We are finally here!! 😭 incase anyone doesn’t remember, I teased this fic a longgg time ago and it makes me so happy to announce its now live 🥹 as mentioned before this is a multi part story - I’m aiming for 3 parts but it could be more with me who knows 🤣 I also changed the my moodboard bc my last one did not include inclusivity and that is the goal here 💗

So now onto my appreciations ❤️ first of all I need to thank @mickeyhenrys for helping with the fic title - she’s a genius and I’m so thankful! Next, I need to thank @sgt-seabass for the help with the IT/cyber security aspect of things - she was absolutely amazing with providing all the information I needed and I’m super grateful for it. And last and certainly not least… my beautiful @rookthorne. my god I can’t even begin to thank you for all the help you’ve given me on this. To beta’ing this fic, helping me a lot with my moodboard even when I was a pain the ass 🤣 and just supporting me in general with my crazy ideas - this fic sprouted from our brainstorming and looking back from then to where this has flourished now is amazing 💗 thank you for being the beautiful person you are and inspiring me to grow as a writer. I love you so much 🥹

Now onto the fic, please enjoy the start of this crazy, wild ride and good luck - you’re gonna need it… 👀

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

Bucky glances over at you through the window that seperates the two of you, gushing about your new date already. It took you a week, maybe two, to get over the last guy. And here you were, yet again, in the same conversation with the same co-worker, debating about which dress you were gonna wear tonight.

Did it matter anyway?

The same shit happens every time. You go out with a new prize idiot, get laid, wait for them to text you back (spoiler: they never do), and you sit there, crying and wondering where you went wrong.

It was frustrating.

You only ever go out with the conventional ‘fuck boy’. The same three-piece suits and quiffed hair that looks like it’s been cemented to their skull with product and arrogance, both in equal measure.

When were you going to get it? You choose the wrong type of guy, every single time. And yet, you wonder why they never stick around long enough to make things official, or to settle down.

You were gullible; so naive.

The perfect girl that Bucky has kept his sights set on from that very first day that you begun working in the same office.

That’s when you walked into my life, Angel.

It wasn’t all that new for it to rain in New York. Heels clicked and splashed through the deep puddles of the pavement, and leather briefcases bumped against each other in the chaos of the crowds as Bucky made his way to work.

He found he didn’t so much mind the repetitive routine – his life had never been exciting. It gave him peace of mind to hear all the usual sounds and to witness the usual frenzied rush from his run down apartment all the way to his office.

He liked his job, truly. It’s what he’s always excelled best in and it’s what has kept him in his comfort zone. There was never no real need to talk to people as all communication or pleas for help were addressed in an email. Those who didn’t email always dragged themselves to his office and slammed their technology down on his desk, grunt or curse at him, before primly walking back out again.

That would anger most people – the blatant disregard for his existence and the treatment similar to that of a scolded dog, but Bucky’s been there for ten years now, and over those many, many days, he had gotten used to it.

It was a bonus, however, that nobody questioned him once on how he managed to fix every problem with their device with so little information as a curse and a demand to get it working.

Pushing the door open, Bucky expects to be walking into a normal day at the office. Paying no notice to the hustle and bustle of his colleagues at work.

That is until he’s stopped in his tracks.

The surprise of seeing the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on; a woman that was sunshine and everything he dreamed of personified standing in the lobby. He watched you speak to anyone that paused to say hello.

The errant thought of such an innocent bunny smiling for all that gave her attention made his cock twitch in his pants. He wanted to give you that attention that you craved.

Never had he been so entranced by and enamoured in anyone. He thinks he could stay like this forever, almost blown over by his new found obsession that made his hands shake and the whole volume of blood in his body to rush to his rapidly swelling cock.

That obsession called and rooted for him to take the few steps and cover the distance to reach you, when he was abruptly shunted forward by another body slamming into his back.

He spun around, ready to curse the person for being so oblivious, when he saw Brock. “Hey man, why the fuck were you just stand- Oh, I take it you’ve seen the new hire, hot isn’t she?”

The predatory smile on Brock’s mouth physically made him recoil. Looking Brock up and down, clear disgust in the sneer and glare of his expression, Bucky turned and stalked away towards the stairs in a bid to head to his office.

His closest safety net, the office where he spent his days, came into view and he slammed open the door, only to fall back onto it, his breath coming in sharp pants. Wildly, he glances around him and then out of the blinds that shroud his office from onlookers. Nobody was paying attention to his moment of crisis and doubt, except, he finds you glancing over your cubicle wall.

You send a small wave, one of which Bucky can’t believe is directed at him, and you smile broadly – a kind gesture. He can’t remember the last time someone smiled at him like that.

Bucky hastily looks away and strides over to his desk, adjusting the sudden tent of his slacks before he turns to sit in his desk chair to start his day.

Who the fuck is she?

The day starts slow, each task as mundane as the last, when you finally get a chance to talk to Sasha, your favourite co-worker. “I really think he’s going to be the one this time.” You can’t stop grinning, wiggling in your seat from excitement to be going out with Frank this weekend – the party that you met him at still fresh in your mind.

“Girl, you said that last time! With... What was his name again?” Sasha groans, her chair swivelling so she could face you fully. You stare at her with a furrow in your brow while she stumbles to remember the name. “Chad? No, I don’t think that was it… Chris?”

“His name was Carter.” There's heartbreak evident in the way your voice turns to a solemn whisper when speaking of him, and your eyes start to water as you begin to think about how your previous date left you high and dry after your night together – only to ghost you the next morning. Your lips start to tremble at the memory. “And I thought we said we weren’t going to speak about him anymore.”

Sasha notices your dejected expression. “Shit honey, l’m sorry. I just want you to be happy.” You nod once, wiping your cheek with your palm. “Car-” She hesitates, and then frowns. “He-who-shall-not-be-named was a rich asshole, he doesn’t deserve you and he can choke on a dick.”

The crass statement shocks you. “Sasha!” you admonish, glancing around the office for anyone milling about that may have overheard. Although you were never one to bad mouth, you couldn’t help the small giggles spilling out at her vulgar words.

Sasha’s abrupt and scandalous nature has always been the exact opposite to your docile character, but she was the first true friend you had made in the office – always looking out for you, taking care of you, and with your doe-eyed persona, the men can’t help but desire to have a piece of you.

It is a blessing that she always knew how to pick you back up when you were down, no matter how many times you would come to her in tears over the same problem.

“Anyway, I promise this one is different,” you promise. The sadness that gripped you a second before fades with the humorous nature of your friend. Sasha shoots you a look. “I didn’t even match with him on Tinder! We met at that party–the one I told you about, Daphne’s?”

“I remember,” Sasha murmurs, nodding.

The memory flashes across your mind, and you shake your head slightly. “He looked so silly with the little tiara on his head. He came up to me and we talked a little–said I looked really pretty and that we should meet up sometime,” you explain, almost imploringly – you desperately want her to understand that it was a good thing. “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it–for me to get myself out there?”

Pride makes your voice strong, unwavering in it’s conviction. Stepping out of your your social circle is a huge step, and by the softening in Sasha’s gaze, she thinks so, too.

The night you met Frank swirls in your mind, clouding it as you stare dreamily at the wall beside Sasha’s head.

The party was in full swing – loud cheers and clinking bottles and glasses filled the night air, while the pounding bass music rattled your chest. Your friend, Daphne, had left to go smoke in the corner, abandoning you to your own devices by the pool.

Fairy lights had been strung up from pole to pole above you and you were admiring them, when Frank caught you by surprise.

“Hey doll,” he greeted, and you glanced at the six foot Prince Charming in a wool coat and tiny tiara. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing all alone in the corner?”

Frank had thrown you a dashing smile and you found you couldn’t maintain eye contact with his intense gaze – you swore you fell in love on the spot.

To say you were flustered would be an understatement. “M-Me?”

Frank almost looked amused. “Well, just between me and you dollface… I don’t see anyone else nearly as pretty as you here.”

As the night went on, Frank continued to sweep you off your feet. You genuinely had no clue how desperate you made him over your sweet little dress riding up your thighs when you fiddled with the the hem. Or when you started to feel shy and you crossed your arms to try and hide yourself – only to squeeze your tits together. It gave him the perfect image of how they would look bouncing up and down on his cock.

The way he stared at you so sweetly, acting as the perfect gentleman made the butterflies in your stomach swoop and flutter up a storm. You had planned a date with him at the end of the night and you were beyond excited.

Snapping out of your daydream, you focus back into the present, aware enough of your surroundings to see Sasha clicking her fingers sharply in front of your face making you blink. “Hello? There she is!” She sits back and rolls her eyes. “Jesus girl, I was calling your name for ages. Where did that cute head of yours wander off to this time?”

“Sorry! I just got caught up in Frank again,” you sigh, dreamily.

Sasha scoffs. “C’mon, he can’t be that cute. Show me a photo of him.”

You clap your hands and squeal, rushing to search through your bag for your phone to show her just how lucky you are to have someone as wonderful as Frank interested in you. Scrolling through the photos you’d taken that night, you finally find the one you couldn’t stop admiring; him with that silly tiara sitting atop his soft, fluffy hair that you could imagine running your hands through all day, wrapped in a snug jacket with a cigarette between his fingers and blowing out smoke the side of his perfect lips.

His eyes fixed intently on one thing. You.

The image sends a shiver down your spine, and before you get too carried away, you turn your screen to face Sasha.

After a whole minute of considertory silence, she finally speaks up, her voice aweful. “Holy fucking shit, babe. I wanna lick his face.”

Your jaw drops. “Sasha, oh my god, you can’t just say that!” Laughter threatens to bubble over and your cheeks heat in response.

“Watch me,” Sasha teases, and you both dissolve into laughing fits.

Bucky is seething. He doesn’t think his teeth could be grating together any harder; grinding to dust until his jaw clicks. While your laugh is melodic to his ears, and his heart leaps and bounds at the sound of your voice, even muted from his vantage point of his office, he saw how upset you looked when your co-worker mentioned him.

Carter.

Even thinking his name gets his blood boiling. But, he wills himself to calm down. To just breathe. There was no point in getting worked up over that spoiled prick anymore, he’s dealt with after what he did to you – the very lengths Bucky had to go to get that video Carter took on his phone deleted.

You, the not so innocent whore on your knees for someone who wasn’t him, begging for Carter’s dick down your throat until you were suffocating; saliva drooling from your chin and dripping down onto your heaving tits.

Bucky can feel his cock twitching in his trousers at the thought of you being so submissive. Pity floods him – you didn’t even realise how Carter had not only ignored your texts that morning, but he had also planned to send that precious gift you had so willingly given to him, to all of his friends and ultimately ruin your life. Leaving it in shambles for you to pick up the debris of your professional career and sociality with so little care.

Bucky wasn’t the most pleased with you after seeing that video in the first place. It was such a foolish decision to trust and allow that sleazebag to film you.

He took it upon himself to remove every trace of the video. After all, he was a good person, what a man should be.

Such a good man that he paid a visit to Carter, leaving him with a few of his own gifts. A black eye, fractured skull, and a break in his right femur that may, or may not have, resulted in him taking residence in the local intensive care unit fighting for his life.

“All I want is for you to be happy. And who better to make you happy than me?” Bucky wonders quietly at his desk, the door to his office wide open so he can hear you chatting to your friend. “I would treat you so good–dote on you every hour of every day, never let you out of my sight, either.”

The next train of thought is one he will not voice aloud, but the vision of him fucking you hard and rough, just as you deserve, until you cried for more – for all of what he could give.

“You’re better off with me,” Bucky grumbles. His lips turn down into a grimace and he glares at the cubicle wall that separated you from him. “You just don’t know it yet, bunny.”

Nevertheless, here you are, flaunting your latest boy toy off to your friend.

The pencil he’s been tapping absentmindedly on his desk stops suddenly and small pieces of wood splinters by the second until it snaps in half, almost capturing your attention – head whipping side to side in search of the noise until you give up and go back to your conversation.

Pain laces through his hand when the wood scratches his palm, reddening lines etching themselves in retaliation for his daydreaming.

He’s got to be more careful with his frustrations.

You have hardly ever looked in his direction, let alone spoken a single word to him. Why would you? Not many people did, if he is honest with himself. His shoulder-length dark hair that is always covered by the same black cap in combination with his piercing and brooding stare didn’t give off the best impression, or invite conversation.

Bucky was not a popular man, even thinking back to his early school years. He was always considered the loner, the nerd, the creep. No sisters or brothers to grow up with; distant parents who paid no mind to him or bothered to foster and nuture his affinities.

The lonliness of his childhood paved the way to the depths of his desperation. Intelligence was something he had an abundance of, and weaponising the skills of his cyber skills was an underutilised talent of every one of his past employs.

It never assuades or lessens the burden of need for affection. A craving that naws like a festering wound in his barren heart, for something that could make up for the miserable nights of self reflection and doubt; wondering why he was never enough for his parents, or popular at school where the girls would fawn over him.

Something for his own; to be just his and unable to be taken from him, not by anybody.

I’m right here, Angel. You just don’t ever see me.

Bucky has done nothing short of pine after you from afar; stealing glances and furtive wanders to get close in any way he can.

He knows you wouldn’t go out of your way to talk to him – you don’t run in the same circles and you are definitely not socially compatible. That doesn’t stop him from imagining how soft your skin must be, or how flawlessly your body would melt against his as he railed you into his bed. Your heavenly little cries of his name, breathless chants pleading him to “Keep going!” and “Don’t stop!” never leave his mind. They fuel his needy desires at night until he can get the real thing, whimpering your name until his voice is hoarse as he fucks his fist over and over and over – the thought that it was your hand or your pillowy lips guiding him into ecstacy pushes him to the very brink of insanity.

The dreams will do for now, he thinks privately as he stares at you through the glass pane of his office wall, straight to your cubicle, the sound of your laughter echoing down the hall and muffled through the glass. He’s managed for the last six months since he first saw you, it’s fine.

Impatience chips away at his resolve, though, and his fuse is shortening by the day. No matter what it takes, no matter who you think is good for you right now, Bucky will have you, and when he does… He’s not ever letting you go.

281 notes · View notes

zepskies · 3 months

Text

Being Human - Part 3

Pairing: Alec McDowell x F. Reader

Summary: Your life made sense before Alec slipped his way in. He unravels your threads without even trying. He frustrates you as easily as he weasels back into your good graces. But you soon realize that this man is worth the challenge.

AN: Remember that in this point in the season, we're in the year 2020 (DA season 2 was released in 2001). And we're about to dive into some rocky waters...

Chapter Summary: The weight of Alec’s secret is starting to create fractures. Because now, you have a secret of your own.

Song Inspo: “Attention” by Avant (ft. Snoop Dog)

Word Count: 4,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! For smut, elements of mate claiming, fluff, angst, perilous situations, and a cliffhanger...

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 3: Complications

These are the nights you live for.

The gang’s all here at Crash. You’re accompanied by Max, Logan, Original Cindy, and a fruity cocktail Alec got for you. Though you roll your eyes at the way your boyfriend is trying to hook people into playing a game of pool with him, clearly so he can hustle them. The man has freakish skills.

He’s already won two or three paychecks’ worth off Sketchy, who bows out by necessity.

“Come on. Anyone, anyone! Step right up and test your skills!” Alec calls throughout the back of the bar.

“Babe, would you give it up?” you say, even though you’re smiling. “No one wants to get swindled.”

He turns to you, zeroing in with a flirtatious grin.

“Want to try your hand, sweetheart?” he asks.

You snort. “I think not.”

“Aw, come on. We don’t even have to play for cash. How about sexual favors?” he offers. The more he thinks about it, the more he likes that idea, with a growing smile. His gaze locks on yours.

“I wouldn’t even mind losing,” he says, giving you a cocky wink.

You smile, fighting a blush. Max and Cindy roll their eyes. Logan ducks his head in amusement.

“That white boy nonsense actually works on you?” Cindy asks.

You take a decided sip of your cocktail in lieu of answering.

In the end, Logan steps up to the plate, to much cajoling. When he actually wins, Alec is forced to accept a bruised ago as he forks over $50.

You beckon him over and he joins your half-booth table. You lean against him after he slides in behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist. He presses a kiss to the side of your head, and you know he doesn’t care all that much about the game.

You all cut up as usual for a while, laughing and telling stories from the day of package slinging. Logan patiently listens to all of you Jam Pony alumni commiserating over how each of you would choose to prank Normal (if there were no repercussions). Sketchy ends up with the best idea: putting super glue in the glue stick the man uses on his hair.

When the laughter dies down, Alec offers to buy the next round of beer. He often does, you’ve noticed; he’s a generous person, whether he thinks of himself that way or not. Logan gets up to join him at the bar, wanting to chip in for the pitcher with his “new winnings.”

You shake your head at that. Alec’s pride probably won’t allow competition from Logan for a second time tonight.

“We’re about to be short-staffed again,” says Cindy, earning your attention. “Jenny got knocked up.”

Max’s brows raise, while you give a happy clap and a sound of excitement.

“Oh, good for her! She and Carlos have been trying for months.”

“Hmph. That is one thing I’m not envious of,” Cindy says.

“No kids on your wishlist?” you ask.

“Not a chance, boo,” she replies.

You turn to Max next. “Are you in Miss Anti-Family’s camp too?”

“Hey, ain’t nobody said I’m anti-family,” Cindy cut in. “I believe it comes in all shapes and sizes, and they don’t gotta be your blood.”

You take a moment to think about what she’s saying, and you conceded with a nod and a smile.

“Fair enough, OC. You’ve got it right,” you gestured at her with the hand that held your drink. She clinks her half-empty beer with your glass. Both of you then turn to Max with expectant gazes, still waiting on her answer.

“I’m not into all that domestic stuff, really,” she says. Though her gaze drifts toward Logan, who’s still arguing with Alec at the bar. “My life’s complicated enough.”

Cindy snorts into her glass. You don’t quite get it; maybe because you don’t really know Max all that well, for how often you guys hang out. It’s like she keeps you at an arm’s length. It hurts you sometimes, when you see how close she is with Cindy, but you suppose it’s her right to keep her circle small.

The world’s become a lot tougher after the Pulse. The more people know about you, the more they can use it against you. That’s why finding people you can trust, and even love, is all the more precious.

You glance over at the bar again, where Logan and Alec have seemed to come to a consensus. (Logan’s bowed out of paying for beer.) Alec has a victorious little smile on his face. He looks over, as if sensing your gaze, and he shoots you a wink. Your smile grows.

Meanwhile, Max and Cindy watch you with twin looks of wry amusement.

“So you want the family package, huh?” Cindy asks.

You twirl your straw around your glass.

“I haven’t thought all that hard about it, but…I wouldn’t mind, with the right person.”

Max chortles, pointing a finger towards the bar. “You think that’s Alec?”

Cindy’s brows furrow slightly as she shoots her friend a warning look. You bite your lip and look down at your drink.

“Now’s not the right time but, maybe someday,” you reply.

Later that night, you treat yourself to a bath in Alec’s apartment. The heater here is amazing. His place is so spacious, with a huge TV in the living room worthy of his obsession with cartoons and soap operas.

He has another one in the bedroom, where he’s made himself comfortable watching some old sitcom.

When you eventually get out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around you, Alec is predictably glued to the TV. You don’t even think he’s noticed you when you walk by him to grab the change of clothes from your overnight bag, but he pulls you into his lap before you can get dressed.

“Why the hell do you need clothes?” he says, stealing a kiss. “Those cumbersome things.”

You giggle, and he smiles against your lips. He rolls you underneath him on the bed and you help divest him of his clothes, down to his boxer briefs. He’s in a good mood tonight, you can tell.

He takes one corner of your towel and peels it off you slowly, until your body is bare for his gaze. His eyes take in every inch of you before they make it back to your lightly blushing face.

He smiles, and he takes down the messy bun from your head to have your hair fanning wildly across his pillows. Your hands move across his chest and further down, but he puts a stop to your exploration. He grasps your wrists and pins them down to the bed with a strength you can’t escape.

You raise your brows. “Alec?”

“Trust me,” he says, dipping down to kiss your neck. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

You suck in a breath. Far be it from you to argue with that.

“Is this one of those sexual favors?” you tease.

He laughs against your skin. “You’re about to find out.”

Then his mouth drifts away from your neck, burning a hot, wet trail across your dewy skin. He finds his way between your breasts, before he lavishes attention to each one. While his tongue swirls around one pert bud, he rolls the other under his thumb and pinches just hard enough to elicit a gasp from you.

Your back arches off the bed a bit; your fingers rake through his sandy hair, clenching whenever he finds a sensitive spot. Both your grip and your voice spur him on, letting him know he’s in the right direction.

You don’t know this, of course, but before a few months ago, he wasn’t so well-versed in this arena. He’s learned his way down a woman’s body with much practice. And he’s come to find that every one of them is different, each with their own set of tells, as he likes to call them.

For example, he knows that even you don’t mind it fast and rough, you prefer it slow, like this. You like a full work up, with his lips dragging down below your navel and his thumbs guiding your knees open, so he can slot himself between your legs.

Already you’re breathing deeper as he makes his way down, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the inside of your left thigh. His tongue licks a languid stripe up the seam of your pussy.

“Alec,” you whine, like you want him to speed up the pace. Maybe you do, but all he gives you is a smirk from between your legs.

“Patience is a virtue,” he teases.

You huff and will yourself to be virtuous, closing your eyes with deep breaths. “Please…”

He chuckles. “I gotcha, baby. Don’t worry.”

His hand slides up your lower belly, both to comfort you and to hold you down. You cover his hand with yours, but your nails soon dig into his skin as his fingers deftly slip past your folds and find your entrance.

“Already drenched for me, I see,” he remarks approvingly. He gathers some wetness and finds your clit, circling with the pads of his fingers. He searches for the right angle, using the sound of your voice to guide him.

When you suck in a gasp and shudder, he knows he’s found the right spot. He replaces his hand with his tongue, while he slips two fingers deep inside you. As he works you over, unrelenting when your hips threaten to raise off the bed, he holds you down with a firm hand. Your hands fist in his hair as your eyes close and your mouth drops open with your moans.

Finally, you buck against his chin and let out a wordless cry. He feels your wetness coat his tongue and knows he’s making you come. Your inner walls are still quivering around his fingers when he slips them out of you. He actually licks them clean, making you shiver again at the sight.

Alec crawls back up the length of your body while you catch your breath. He smiles down on you and brushes your cheek with the back of his hand.

“Not about to pass out on me, are you?” he asks. A teasing gleam is in his eyes. “I think I can resuscitate you.”

You laugh breathily in response and pull him down to you, crashing his lips to yours. You taste yourself on his tongue, which isn’t unpleasant. Your nails drag down the back of his neck. Alec groans into your mouth and sinks his fingers into your hair.

Now he’s more on your wavelength as you reach for the waistband of his boxer brief and quickly roll them down. He helps you by kicking them the rest of the way off, allowing you to wrap your thighs around his hips tightly.

“Hey, wait a second,” he says, laughing with his forehead pressed to yours. He grabs your hips and angles you a bit higher, then he reaches between your bodies and holds the painfully hard, weeping head of his cock at your entrance.

He meets your eyes, and you smile and squeeze the back of his neck in encouragement.

As slowly as he can manage, he pushes inside you. He stretches open your inner walls inch by inch. Both of you take in deep breaths and utter mingled moans as he continues to push inside, until the head of his cock reaches the very depths of you.

You toss your head back against the pillow with a heavy breath.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you nod, licking your lips. “Just move, baby, please.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He likes when you call his name, but he thinks he likes even more when you call him baby. He knows that you mean it, unlike women he’s had to pay for.

But he doesn’t want to think about any of those exploits when he’s with you—there’s no comparison. He slides out almost the full length of his cock, before he pushes back in. He builds a slow, sensuous, steady rhythm that serves both of you well.

He actually works up a sweat, and you help him by meeting his thrusts, encouraging him whenever you give him your voice, your instructions and praises, your hands attempting to squeeze the circulation out of his arms.

He's so focused on rocking your world (and his own) that he doesn’t realize what you’re about to do.

He’s deep inside you when you brush your hand along his jaw and utter the truth.

“I love you,” you whisper.

Alec pauses.

Both of you are breathing hard, but the fact that he doesn’t say anything makes you freeze. Neither of you have said that before. You hold in your breath.

Alec’s pupils are blown wide as he dips down, nosing along your throat before he begins to move inside you again. You moan in response as your legs squeeze his hips. He sinks his teeth just above where your neck meets your shoulder, making you gasp and arch against him, gripping his hair tight.

The way you’re squeezing him so tightly, from the inside out, means he reaches his shuddering end before you do, but he still makes sure you get there for a second time. His fingers reach between you to press and circle around your clit before his last few hard thrusts. It has you coiled tight, before you gasp and moan your release.

He licks a long stripe along your neck. You hiss in pain when he laps over tender flesh.

“Sorry,” he pants.

“You got me good, Count Dracula,” you quip.

Alec breathes warmly against your ear. He pulls back and examines the bite mark on your neck. He barely remembers doing it.

It’s like…some kind of claim.

Like an animal, he thinks wryly. For the first time, he wonders just what the hell they put into his cocktail at Manticore.

He clears his throat.

“Uh, I’m sorry,” he says, contritely. “Didn’t mean to…”

You slide your hands up his arms and catch his gaze. You smile in amusement, even though you’re blushing.

“Didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

The two of you don’t talk about what you said.

Or what he didn’t say.

You don’t know what’s happening, but you think it stems from that night.

Alec begins to pull away from you.

Dinner plans get “rain checked.” Trips to the farmer’s market, to the park, to Pike Place get cancelled.

For the next few weeks, the only time you see him is at work or at Crash, or occasionally in the line for boxed and canned goods in Sector 2.

Max can’t give you a straight answer on what’s going on with him (and really, you should be able to figure out your own boyfriend without her help). So you finally have to put your foot down.

You try to pull him aside at work, in front of the Jam Pony building. He’s on his way in, while you’d been on your way out.

“Alec, can I talk to you?” you ask. He gives you a strained, apologetic look.

“I’ve gotta pick up my next deliveries.”

“Alec, please,” you implore. You squeeze his arm enough to hold his attention. “I feel like…like you’re avoiding me. Is there something going on?”

His expression dims further. “I’ve just been really busy.”

“We’re always busy. That’s not it.” You frown, and your body tenses. “Is there…someone else?”

Alec briefly closes his eyes, emitting a short sigh. “No. Nothing like that.”

You let out a subtle breath of relief, because you do believe him this time. But that just makes your next question even more difficult. Your arms cross, to disguise the way you’re bracing for a figurative blow.

“Then…have I done something wrong?” you ask.

That hurts Alec even more. Though his training, so deeply ingrained, allows him not to show it.

“No. No, it’s not you,” he says, wiping a hand over his mouth. “It’s… Listen, I just think we needa slow down a bit, you know?”

“Slow down?” you ask. A trill of panic laces down your spine. “Is it about…what I said?”

Alec doesn’t want to answer, but you both know then that you’ve hit the nail on the head.

“I just need some space,” he says. “I think it’ll be better for both of us.”

“Really?” you ask. Your voice flattens, and hot tears well up in your eyes.

It threatens to undo him. Somehow, he’s able to hold firm in what he believes he has to do, in order to protect you. Even from himself.

Alec reaches for your cheek. He hesitates just slightly, but he drops a kiss on your forehead.

You don’t want to let him. You can’t help it though; you savor his touch. You feel his warm lips on your skin, and then he’s gone by the time you open your eyes.

A few days later, you still feel like hell. You manage to reach your locker and you lean against it. Your stomach churns with nausea—the constant sign of your stress as you try to get through your morning.

On the TV, some government agent is exposing a genetics company called Manticore. That it created “transgenic” subjects as genetically engineered soldiers, often using animal DNA. They escaped almost a year ago now.

They’re not human. They’re living among you. They’re dangerous, and you have a right to be scared.

You’re only half-listening, because the truth is, this sounds like a bunch of fearmongering bullshit, and you’re too tired to be all that alarmed. Humans are dangerous enough, as far as you’re concerned.

The government is probably trying to cover up something even more heinous by concocting this ridiculous story.

You rest your cheek against the cool metal of your locker and just stand there for a while in time in space. You don’t care much about the world around you, until Max comes into your line of vision. She touches your arm.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m fine.” A vast overstatement, though you know that you aren’t convincing anyone.

You look up just in time to see Alec standing at his own locker. He’d been glancing at you and Max, but being caught by your gaze makes him turn away, closing his locker as he leaves.

Max’s lips press together. She returns her attention to you in thinly veiled concern.

“What happened exactly?” she asks.

“Max, I don’t know,” you confess. “Things were fine. They were good.”

You let out a deep, exhausted breath.

Oh yeah, you haven’t been sleeping much lately either.

“Deep in my gut, I have this feeling. Like he’s going through something,” you say. “Or he’s hiding something from me. He just won’t talk to me. Every time it feels like we’re headed somewhere good, solid, he pulls away. I can’t fucking do it anymore, Max. I just can’t take it.”

You slam your locker closed and try to get on with your day before your tears fall. Max sighs and watches you go.

She doesn’t know that you head to the bathroom and heave your breakfast into the toilet bowl, spilling what little you could keep down this morning.

You haven’t been sighted at Crash in weeks, but Alec comes here every night, Max notices. He drinks alone tonight, once again looking more woe is me than ever.

It boils her blood.

She takes a seat next to him and punches his arm with a heavy dose of her transgenic strength. Alec flinches with a cry of protest, but she just glares at him.

“Why are you doing this to her? To yourself?” she demands.

Alec wants to glare at her, but he doesn’t have it in him. He just quirks his head and sips his drink. He doesn’t even know what kind of liquor this is, but the bartender promised it’s the strongest thing he has back there.

“Leave it alone, Maxie,” Alec says, as he takes a sip. Though strongest be damned, he’s slammed down four of these and he’s still not drunk. Ain’t that a bitch.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says.

“I don’t?” Max raises her brows. “You’re fucking with her head and her heart. And for what? So you can have a little pity party?”

Alec does glare at her this time. “You know what, why don’t you just leave me the fuck alone?”

“Not until you tell me,” she demands. “Why’re you pushing away someone who clearly cares about you? Not that I get why. If this selfish, pigheaded, asshole behavior is supposed to be charming, then maybe she’s better off without you.”

He slams down his glass hard enough for liquor to slosh out over his hand.

“Don’t you get it?! That’s exactly it,” he hisses, low enough that only the two of them can hear. “When are you going to understand that we’re a threat to them? We’re being hunted every damn day. You think Ames White and his cult cronies’ll think twice about a little collateral damage?”

“Alec—”

“You think you and Logan are any different?” he adds. “Let me remind you, you were a danger to him even before a genetically engineered virus came into the picture.”

She’s angry, but he knows she can’t argue with logic. They both know that Alec is speaking from a place of experience.

“So you’re just gonna break her heart?” she asks. “Again?”

Alec shakes his head and casts his gaze down into brown liquor. Max leans toward him with a steely glower.

“You’re a coward,” she says, before she slips away.

Alec wipes his wet hand on his jeans.

…Maybe she’s right, he thinks. You’ll probably end up regretting the day you ever met him, but at least you’ll be alive to hate him.

“Oh God,” you utter, a hand covering your mouth.

You haven’t been to the doctor in several years, but you managed to scrape enough money together to afford this little test. It gave you a more definitive answer on why you’ve spent the last few weeks fighting sickness and fatigue in equal measure.

How could this have happened? You were on birth control. What could possibly have…

You don’t know what possesses you to go hunting for the little round packet in the medicine cabinet. You examine its contents and confirm that you haven’t missed even one pill of your pharmacy-issued birth control.

On the bottom of the packet, however, you spy something small in the fine print: EXP – 02/2017.

Expired…THREE YEARS AGO?!

Apparently, you can’t put it past pharmacies to sell outdated meds now.

You sit alone on your couch in silence for nearly an hour. You run down every scenario, every path you could possibly take and try to consider its most likely outcome.

Medical care is a joke nowadays, unless you're still part of the wealthy 1%. That also includes...termination.

Even you did try to find a way to do it, somehow scrounging up the money to end this, the thought alone makes your heart ache.

Alec is young, and so are you. You two had barely been together for six months before he basically broke up with you, and you're not even sure how he'll react when you tell him. (At this point, you don't have high hopes.)

And yet, it hurts. What you'd told Original Cindy was the truth; you want a family. You're tired of being alone, even though the two options laid out before you scare you in equal measure.

A thousand thoughts are still running through your mind, contradicting each other with brutal logic, versus what your heart tells you. But one decision is certain...

You need to talk to Alec first.

You wait until the morning at Jam Pony HQ, when you’ve settled your nerves enough to see Alec.

He never shows up for work, even an hour into shift. Damn it.

Okay, you suppose you’ll have to do this another way. You grab your phone, and you call him.

Thankfully, he picks up on the fourth ring. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you reply, a bit awkwardly. The two of you haven’t spoken in nearly a month.

“What’s up?” He doesn’t sound like himself. He sounds guarded, almost hesitant.

“We need to talk, Alec.”

He blows out a sigh. “Look, I haven’t changed my mind.”

You swallow past the pain.

“I know," you dully reply. "It’s not about that, but this isn’t a conversation I want to have digitally.”

“...Okay,” he relents, with another sigh. He sounds a bit distracted. “Uh, I’m taking care of something right now, but I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you stop by my place after work?”

You nod. “Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

Of course, it’s hard to focus on your work after that. You wonder how many months you have until you can’t work anymore. Until you’ll have to fend for yourself…and for your child.

With or without Alec, you plan to do whatever it takes.

So you do your best, as you always do, to get through your day. You fight exhaustion and nausea and anxiety with every delivery, but at the end of the day, you have a clipboard full of signatures and a clean docket.

You leave right at 7:00 p.m. to head over to Alec’s apartment. You use your spare key to unlock the door and find the apartment shrouded in darkness. You flip on the closest light switch before you turn to shut and lock the door behind you.

The door pushes open abruptly.

It knocks straight into you and throws you off your feet. You crash with a pained cry into a wooden table, knocking off a half-empty glass of whiskey that cuts into your arm when it breaks.

A pair of strong hands take hold of you and haul you up, spinning you around. You stare up with wide eyes into the face of a man you think you’ve actually seen before. He’s tall, white, dark hair, piercing eyes.

On the news, you realize. You saw him on the news.

“Where is 494?” he demands to know.

You blink in confusion and fear. “What?”

The man rolls his eyes.

“Alec McDowell,” he says.

Your breath stills in your lungs.

“Why’re you looking for him?” you ask. “You…you work for the government.”

“That’s right.” His smile is thin. “It’s a federal matter. And I suggest you tell me what I want to know.”

His grip on your arm tightens enough to make you whimper.

“I don’t know where he is,” you blurt out. Mostly because it’s the truth.

He raises a brow. “He lives here, doesn’t he?”

You refuse to answer, but the man lowers his gun and seats you forcefully on the couch.

“Then we’ll wait.”

Minutes turn to an hour. Alec’s late—a fact you’re half relieved about, and half cursing him for. You turn to the man who holds you at gunpoint without even looking at you. Though you instinctively know that any attempts to run will be short-lived.

His men wait by the door with guns at the ready.

“Who are you?” you ask.

The man turns his head and gives you a cold smile. “Agent White, at your service.”

“Okay, Agent White. Why are you after Alec?”

“Oh, I’ve been looking for him for a long time,” he says.

You frown, with pursed lips. “Why? What do you think he’s done?”

“It’s not what he’s done. It’s what he is,” White says. “Him, and everyone like him.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” you snap.

White rolls his eyes. He lets out a sharp sigh before he stands. He grabs you up along with him. Fear churns inside you, tightening in your throat.

“I have a better idea,” White says. “Instead of using you as leverage to make him come quietly, I think I’ll just let him walk in, nice and easy. He’ll find you gutted. On the floor. And then I’ll do the same to him.”

Frightened tears well up in your eyes when his grip moves and tightens on your jaw, like he’s thinking about breaking your neck.

“Wait, please!” you plead. “I’m pregnant!”

White actually pauses, tilting his head. He smiles.

“Interesting.”

AN: Ames White has entered the chat...

EDIT (2-05-24): I made some edits here on the reader's thoughts of what she should do after her discovery. In hindsight, I realized I'd left out some aspects of the world. Specifically how access to medical care would influence her decision vs. what this particular character wants for herself.

Next Time:

“Hello, 494.” A man’s voice—one that Alec would know anywhere. It prickles his skin with unease and makes his blood boil all at once.

“Ames White.” Alec’s teeth grind. “What game are you playing now?”

“This isn’t a game. It’s business,” White claims. “I have something you want. How much are you willing to pay to make sure she stays alive?”

Alec forces himself to calm down, even though his pulse is racing.

“What do you want?”

“You. And 452. With no bullshit on your end,” the agent replies. “Or this girl is going to pay that price for you.”

Keep Reading: Part 4 (Finale!)

Series Masterlist

Alec McDowell Masterlist

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