#anyways just. Sitting in the dandelion hotel. Thinking. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gukyi · 4 years

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the heiress and the hotelier | ksj

summary: when you share a kiss with a mysterious but gorgeous stranger on the night of your unwanted, lavish masquerade birthday party, the last thing you expect is for him to vanish at midnight on the dot. but when, as punishment for always arguing with him, your father assigns you to oversee the company’s newest resort hotel, you begin to realize that the handsome stranger may be closer than you think.

{cinderella!au, heiress reader!au, hotelier seokjin!au}

pairing: kim seokjin x female reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 21k warnings: alcohol consumption (nothing major), workaholic characters, face blindness, idiots to lovers a/n: hello and welcome to guyi is a nonstop writer!! that’s the fuck right !!!! thank you so much to @aurawatercolor for commissioning me for this (again!) and for being genuinely wonderful. happy birthday! oh--and i’ll be on a socially-distanced vacation this upcoming week, so i’ll be a little more inactive than usual, but here’s this fic to keep you occupied while i’m gone!

Your birthdays have never belonged to you.

Not when you were little, when your mother was always the most excited for you to open your presents and host your birthday party. Not when you were older, and your parents started using your age as a reason for you to start learning the inner workings of the family business under the understanding that you would one day inherit it. And certainly not when you’re an adult, when all your birthdays ever remind you of are the years gone by, blowing past you like dandelion wisps, glimpses of memories that are too nimble to catch between your fingertips.

When people say that time goes by faster as you get older, they aren’t saying it because your life is getting exponentially more interesting with each day that passes. They aren’t saying it because you’re having more fun or doing more things, things that distract you to the point of looking out your window and realizing that it’s dark outside.

They say it because the more years that you have lived, the more years you have to remember. And when you have to recall something as overwhelming as your life, your brain makes shortcuts. The days, weeks, and months blur together, leaving behind snippets from events that your memory deems worthy, events that have become less and less frequent with time. You can’t remember the last major celebration you had. Perhaps your university graduation?

The thing about birthdays is that you know that there will always be one next year. So why bother with celebrating now?

You would give anything to have everyone pretend that your birthday is just a normal day.

Unfortunately for you, you are the only one in your family who seems to have adopted this mindset.

Heaving out a sigh, you look at yourself in the mirror, reflection bathed in the white light of the bathroom, stark and unforgiving. In the merciless glow of the bathroom, you barely recognize yourself. Gone are the deep eye bags that you’ve so dearly acquainted yourself with, tired eyes covered with contacts to bring back the shimmer that has long been lost. You gaze into your eyes and they don’t even feel like they’re yours anymore.

In your hand sits the masquerade mask you had ripped off the moment you entered the bathroom, having been desperate to take it off from the minute you arrived at the hotel. The feathers brush against your skin, soft and black, a custom-made accessory designed to match your gown, an ink black floor-length piece with onyx gems that sparkle silver in the light.

Hoseok was going for a black swan theme—said that it would match your personality perfectly. You’re not exactly sure what he meant by that.

Frantically, like there is a timer ticking down inside of you that you cannot turn off, you pull the mask back on, adjusting it over your eyes until it sits just right, resting atop the bridge of your nose. Hiding behind it, you can almost deceive yourself into thinking, if only for this one night, you are someone else.

The door swings open next to you, revealing a guest that you don’t recognize, someone on the list of hundreds that your mother invited, none of whom you know very well and could certainly not identify beneath a masquerade mask. She smiles in that polite, awkward way as she rushes into a stall, deep maroon train trailing behind her, leaving you stuck between a rock and a hard place, having no desire to go back out into the fray but also not wanting to stay in the bathroom and listen to other people do their business.

Thank God she didn’t recognize you. Your mother was insistent that you be recognized as the guest of honor despite the whole point of a masquerade party being the inability to correctly identify people, so you might as well be walking around in a t-shirt with your face on it. At least the mask is doing something.

You blink at yourself, hoping that maybe if you close your eyes enough, when you open them you’ll be someone else. When that doesn’t seem to work, you take a breath and fix your mask one last time before heading back into the ballroom.

Immediately, amongst the crowd of people, all of whom are only here to elevate their own statuses by being associated with an event hosted by your family, you spot the back of Jungkook’s head, deep brunette tufts of hair deftly styled by a whole team of people, a slicked back, Phantom of the Opera style. He’s got on a tuxedo and mask to match, but even with that on you could recognize him in your sleep. He is your brother, after all.

He’s talking animatedly with the pianist, an old mutual friend of your family’s named Yoongi, who isn’t wearing a mask and is thus immediately identifiable. Not to mention the fact that your family has known his since before you learned to walk. As you get closer to them, you notice that his maskless-ness is because Jungkook’s got it snatched up in between his fingers, dangling it in front of Yoongi like the taunting claw of a rigged toy machine. You decide not to bother them. He’s always been closer with Jungkook, anyway.

You really wish your mother better understood what a masquerade-themed party meant. You can’t get more than three steps in before being stopped by someone you can hardly recognize, all smiles for the birthday girl. They wish you a happy birthday and give you a lifeless compliment that goes in one ear and out the other before going on their way, positively thrilled that they’ve been invited to an event as grand as this and determined to make the most of it.

Eventually, after far too many interruptions, you make it to the catering table, helping yourself to a piece of the five-tiered, golden-iced cake your parents had ordered. At least they got your favorite flavor right—chocolate and vanilla swirl. You wait happily beside the rest of the catered food as you eat, hoping that you are just out of reach enough to go unnoticed. The least your birthday party guests could do is leave you alone.

“Y/N!”

Never mind.

You look up to the source of the sound and find only your father approaching, all dressed up in a crisp suit from the same tailors that made Jungkook’s. He isn’t wearing a mask and apparently doesn’t need one, since it is your birthday and not his. Not a good enough excuse, in your opinion.

“Dad,” you say with a smile, wiping away the icing you feel sitting just off the corner of your lips.

“Enjoying yourself?” He asks heartily, all smiles because he’s always felt rather at home surrounded by this sort of grandeur, almost as much as your mother. No wonder the two of them get along so well.

“The cake is nice,” you dodge the question.

“Ah, glad you like it,” he says, helping himself to his own piece. “We were going to get red velvet but then Jungkook reminded us your favorite flavor was the swirly one,” he laughs to himself, like it’s funny that they almost got it wrong. “Had to call the bakery last minute and change it.”

You purse your lips together in a tense smile, fork picking at the crumbs left on your plate.

“Have you been chatting with your friends?” He asks.

“Here and there,” you respond. Nobody here, except perhaps Jungkook and Yoongi, would be people you considered friends. Acquaintances at best. And besides, it’s not like you can even identify half of the attendees anyway. “You?” You always do much better when the topic of conversation is not your social life.

“Ah, yes, of course, you know me,” he jokes, always the aristocrat. “I was just speaking with Mr. Oh about that corporate investment deal that I had been arranging with him.”

“Dad,” you say, exasperated, “You know that I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Y/N,” he says, already beginning to get frustrated. You and him have shared this conversation countless times already. “You aren’t the final decision maker. You know that.”

“Yes, but you value my input, don’t you?” You challenge. He nods tensely. “So listen to me. I don’t think this deal will be good for us. Even though the Oh’s have more money in their investments, they aren’t transparent with it. If you make this deal you won’t know where our money is going.”

“Nonsense,” your father rebukes. “Mr. Oh and I have known each other for years. I trust him. You’re just saying this because you don’t like their son.”

“Sehun has nothing to do with this,” you argue, even if it is true. Your mother had set you up on a blind date with him a couple of years ago and from the moment he walked through the door, you knew it would go south. He’s got the same conceited attitude his father has. “I don’t think it’s a wise business decision.”

“You mustn’t let personal grievances get in the way of your work and you know that,” your father commands sternly, eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you. “What will you do when you are the CEO of Jeon Group? Are you going to let pettiness get in the way of major advancements for the company?”

“No!” You insist, though you are far too gone for your father to believe you.

“This deal is happening and that’s final, Y/N,” your father declares harshly, eyes narrowed at you.

“But, Dad—”

“I don’t want to hear another word from you about this,” he directs. “You should know better than to argue with me about this sort of thing. Especially here. Your mother worked very hard on putting this party on for you, and you should be grateful.”

You exhale, incensed. “I am, Dad, but the business means more to me than—”

“Stop. You can’t change my mind.” Your father sets his finished plate down on a cart an arm’s length away, piled high with discarded dishes, glasses and utensils. “Go talk with your friends instead.” You frown at him, nose scrunched up in contempt. He gestures you away from him. “Go.”

Sighing, you wipe away the sweat that has gathered along your temples and go back out into the center of the ballroom, watching begrudgingly as your father steers you from him, having deemed your conversation over even if you weren’t finished talking. It’s obvious that there’s no more getting through to him. Unless all of the Ohs are suddenly arrested for embezzling funds or mail fraud, that deal is happening.

Standing in the middle of the room, you turn around once and you’re immediately lost amongst all of the guests, surrounded by people everywhere you look. You turn back to where your father was standing but he’s vanished, and when you turn the other way, Jungkook has disappeared from beside the grand piano as well. It feels like you’re outnumbered, like you’re trapped in a maze of people with no end in sight, like one wrong move and suddenly they will all turn to look at you, stare you down like camera lenses, relentless flashes of light. Nobody to talk to, nowhere to run.

You’re stuck.

Now that you think about it, you sort of always have been.

The room gets blurrier.

“Hey, are you alright?” A voice asks.

You feel like you spin around several times before your eyes focus in on the man it belongs to.

“Here, come on, let’s get out of here.”

Your feet move against your mind’s better judgement, the man ushering you away from the center of the room and out of the crowd. You barely notice the direction he’s taking you in until you feel the cool late night air blow past you, tickling your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

It’s the balcony.

The glass door shuts behind the two of you, sending a stream of wind against your back as it effectively removes all of the background noise of the party, containing it within the ballroom, leaving the both of you shrouded in the stars’ silence.

Out here, you have a perfect view of the city. Even though it’s nearing midnight, the lights are still on, coating the town in a twinkling glow, yellow lights flickering on and off, as if someone were looking at the universe from far beyond it. Some parts of the city go to sleep when the sun sets. Others are just waking up.

Next to you, the man removes his suit jacket and drops it ceremoniously on the floor at his feet, arms resting on the balcony’s railing as he gazes out into the distance. As you look out into the same deep navy sky, it’s almost as if the rest of the night has faded away. You don’t know who he is and you can only hope that he doesn’t know you either, hope that he has rescued you from the crowd to talk you down rather than talk you up. But you don’t miss the way he hasn’t said a word to you since you stepped foot outside, hasn’t dared to initiate contact just in case you were looking for a respite from all of it.

At this angle, you can turn your head just enough to get a good look at him, at the way half of his face is enveloped in shadow while the other half is letting the moonlight do all of the talking. From here, the light from the full moon is faint, a barely-there silver glow, but it casts him in just enough light to make him seem as though he belongs in a dream. Like he isn’t even real. It highlights the sharpness of his jaw, the peaks of his cheekbones, his round button nose. But what it really makes gleam are his eyes, almost pitch black in the night. They reflect the sky like nothing else, glimmers of faint starlight in an ocean of ink.

Quite frankly, you wouldn’t mind staying like this for the rest of the night.

“Thank you.” You breathe out the words and immediately feel his gaze jerk sharply towards you. “For getting me out of there.”

“Of course,” he says, and oh, goodness, his voice is thick and warm and comforting, like a fireplace on a cool night, like a blanket after a nightmare. “You just seemed like you needed a break.”

“You could say that,” you say, shrugging to yourself. You could use more than a break. A general pause on life is something you certainly wouldn’t object to—if only it was that easy. But hey, you take what is given to you and never miss an opportunity if you can help it. There’s a lot that you can (and do) complain about but even more than you should be grateful for. Your father was right. This party took a lot of planning on your mother’s part and you spent half of it in the bathroom wishing you were anywhere but here.

“A lot on your plate?” He asks with a smile, a real one, one that isn’t forced like everybody else. Almost like he’s smiling because he’s actually enjoying himself.

“I feel like it’s endless,” you say, keeping it vague because, as it stands, this gorgeous man does not know who you are, and you would like to keep it that way.

“As is all of life,” he says sagely, almost as if it’s a reminder to himself as well. You wonder what he must have on his mind. You wonder if it’s worth sharing your life with a stranger. “It looked like you had a lot on your mind back in there.” He gestures weakly back towards the door.

“I have a lot on my mind no matter where I am,” you correct, and you try to make it sound funny but instead it just comes out sounding sad. Normally you wouldn’t be cracking jokes at your expense in front of someone whose name you don’t even know, but you had a couple of drinks tonight and the taste is still fresh on your tongue, sitting alongside all of the words you want to say but don’t know how to.

The man leaves it at that, not wanting to push any further, but you aren’t finished yet. Someone might as well know how you feel, since you bottle it up around everyone else.

“Do you ever wish that you could just… I don’t know. Disappear?” You turn to look at him, heaving out a sigh. He doesn’t say anything, simply gazes back at you, like he’s willing you to carry on. It, in a way, worries you. “Ugh. I feel ridiculous saying it out loud.”

There’s a tense, pregnant pause between the two of you. It makes you feel like talking was a mistake.

“It’s not ridiculous.” It almost sounds like the words are coming from someone else. Like this whole thing is just a figment of your imagination, created by your mind to keep you company because there’s no one else to turn to.

He’s staring out over the balcony now, waiting for you to continue.

“I don’t know,” you say, feeling utterly idiotic, like a fish out of water. “Sometimes I just wish that I could go somewhere else and be someone else and not have to worry about all of the things in my life. Things like my family, and my work. There are so many things that people expect of me. All the time. It feels like I’m living for them instead of myself.”

He nods along, holding back to see if you have anything else to say. You must sound like such an ungrateful little rich girl, you think to yourself. Complaining about this fabulous party and incredible life that you live, a life filled with wealth and grandeur and power, a life that most people dream of having. What will he think of you?

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “I probably sound like such a spoiled brat.”

“You don’t,” he immediately assures you, taking a step to his right and closing the gap between you two. “It doesn’t sound like that at all.”

“Then what does it sound like?” You muse to yourself, forcing a laugh.

“It sounds like you have a lot that you feel like you owe to other people,” he says organically. “You know, like you feel like you have to do all of these things because you can’t let other people down. I get it. I know that everyone nowadays is all, ‘You shouldn’t give a shit about what other people think of you, just do whatever you want,’ but it’s hard not to think about what other people think of you. And what other people expect from you. Letting them down sucks.”

You chuckle. Sounds about right. You may not be completely satisfied with your life right now but that doesn’t mean you’re going to fling your responsibilities onto the shoulders’ of other people. Your father works hard, your mother works hard, your brother works hard. The least you could do for them is offer up the same diligence.

“You’re quite the smooth talker,” you joke, looking him up and down and nodding your approval. He’s definitely figured you out, at least.

“I’m just a people person,” the man admits. “I like talking with people.”

“And here I was, thinking that I’d be confessing my secrets to a brick wall,” you say, making him crack a smile, another real one. You like the look of them. A part of you wants to do it more often.

“Secrets, huh?” He asks, sliding another inch closer, daringly so, teetering on the edge of territory that you haven’t touched in years. “I like the sound of that. Got any more for me?”

You smirk up at him, a grin playing on your lips. “Only if you have one for me in return. No freebies.”

He laughs, loud and clear, the sound ringing out in the nighttime air. “Alright,” he says, obliging. He leans in close, lips hovering above your ear. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

You’ve been listening to compliments all night but this one makes the heat rush to your cheeks like nothing else, a fire set alight in your veins.

“That’s a secret, is it?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy, looking all around you just so you don’t have to look him in his eyes and feel your legs turn to jelly.

“Not anymore,” he reminds you. “What about you? Anything else to share with me?” He’s standing dangerously close to you now, barely half a foot of space between your bodies as he leans into you, hands hovering above your waist.

Slowly he begins to tilt his head towards you, and while you’ve never been one for dramatics, you have to admit that you haven’t felt this way since your schoolgirl crush days back when you were a teenager, giddy and electric and desperately craving more.

You watch as his lips flutter above yours, feel transparent underneath his steel gaze, and you say, “I think you’re gorgeous, too.”

The fireworks thing had always been over the top for you. Like it was impossible for a kiss to feel that explosive to anyone, setting you alight over and over and over again. But his lips pressed against yours come pretty damn close. It makes your whole body go weak, like you can barely hold yourself up, hands clutching onto his sleeves just to make sure you don’t go topping off the balcony. He kisses you and you swear that you would never do this sort of thing normally—go about your romantic interests like a professional, a couple of dates and then perhaps a kiss on your doorstep—but goddamn, it feels like you might just give up everything for him. It feels like there are sparks running all across your skin, sending jolts of life into your heart. It feels like he is someone you are going to miss.

It lasts too long and ends too quickly all at once. You distantly hear the party celebrate the clock striking twelve indoors, cheers and screams and shouts as people rally themselves to continue long after the mark of a new day, and feel him pull away from you at the very same instant. Shamelessly, you instinctively reach up to try and meet his lips again, refusing to believe it’s over, but already he’s separating himself from you.

“Hey, what’s wrong—?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing, I promise,” the man says, the words barely registering in your kiss-drunk haze. He scoops up his jacket from the floor and immediately begins to head back inside. “I just have to go, really. It’s nothing.”

You freeze, mouth agape. “Wait, I don’t even know your—”

“It was really nice meeting you, I hope that we can see each other again!” He pulls open the door with one final grin, one beautiful, brilliant smile, and then suddenly, he’s gone.

You feel the rush of wind blow against your skin, holding you hostage on the balcony as you stare at the closed door, almost like he had never been here at all.

It wasn’t a dream. It couldn’t have been. He was real, and he was here, and then he was right in front of you, his hands were on your waist, his lips were on your lips. And still, it’s almost as if it never even happened.

You blink back at the door, trying to convince yourself that you are still awake, that you haven’t gone mad with loneliness, when you feel yourself step on something.

It’s his mask. A plain, black one with a couple of decorative touches. The string meant to secure it to his face is broken, having probably snapped in half in his rush to leave, leaving it as the only reminder that you didn’t dream up the entire ordeal to begin with.

You reach down to pick it up, letting it rest between your fingertips, and you laugh. Here you are, having fallen for a man whose name you don’t know and whom you don’t think you’ll ever see again, the only piece left you have of him being a broken, forgotten masquerade mask. Like the worst rendition of Cinderella ever.

Leaning back over the balcony, you sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that even if tonight was more eventful than you thought it would be, you will have to get up tomorrow morning and go to work, just the same.

And you suppose that that really is what the man was talking about when he said life was endless.

It’s not that it has no end. It’s just that it doesn’t really feel like you’re ever beginning something new.

You wake up in a cold sweat and are convinced you dreamt of the whole thing until you see the mask sitting on your chest of drawers, grounding you back to reality.

You wonder what it is about him, about last night, that so easily deceives you into thinking it never happened. Perhaps it was the time, or the alcohol on your tongue, or how storybook the whole thing felt, from the talking to the kissing to the disappearing into the night. Or perhaps it was the fact that you can’t remember the last time someone made you feel the way that he made you feel, can’t remember the last time someone kissed you like he did. Like your brain was convinced it would just never happen.

At least you know that there’s still a little hope for you.

A part of you almost thinks that, for the rest of time, you won’t be able to think of anything but the mystery man and his excellent kissing skills. Even the morning after, the tingling feeling on your lips still lingers like lint on a blazer, like a scar that won’t fade. It feels like it won’t ever go away, dancing along your lips every time you look in a mirror. You hardly remember anything else about that night besides him, besides talking to him, besides his lips on yours.

You continue to live in this post-kiss bliss for another ten minutes as you help yourself to breakfast and hum a mindless tune. Then your phone lights up.

“Hey, Dad!” You say cheerfully, practically bouncing on your feet.

“Y/N,” he says gruffly. “You haven’t left for work yet, have you?”

“Nope,” you say, stuffing a spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios into your mouth. “Why? Do you need me to bring something?”

“Actually, Y/N, you won’t be coming to the office today.” His tone is stern and sharp, no-nonsense. The same way he speaks to interns who have fucked up.

Oh, no.

“What do you mean?” You ask, trying to keep your tone positive even though you already know you’re toast.

“I’m assigning you to watch over the new resort hotel at the edge of the city.” Your father has never been known to beat around the bush.

“What?” You gasp out, shocked. “Dad, you know that I—”

“You wanted more independence and more input in decision-making, didn’t you?” He says pointedly, a reminder of last night.

“Yes, but I—”

“Good,” he declares. “This resort is going to be your responsibility and I want to see that you are doing well with the tasks at hand.”

“Dad, that sounds good, but you know I much prefer more corporate responsibilities—”

“And at this resort, you will have that,” he informs you. “It’s high time you take on your own tasks instead of doing the ones that I hand down to you. I expect to see this resort flourish.” You don’t understand his logic. Isn’t he literally handing you an entire resort to oversee? A brand new one, too?

“But wouldn’t you rather manage such a new hotel? What if it starts to encounter deficits?” You plead, a final attempt to get him to take your name off of this project so you can go back to doing what you’re used to instead of being flung a brand new resort you definitely aren’t keen on overseeing.

“Then I should hope to see you solve them quickly,” he clips, effectively dissolving any hope you had that he would change his mind. Normally, you love your father’s typical hands-off approach when it comes to business, usually because it allows you to gain working experience without him carrying you every step of the way, but right now, you just wish he was more of a selfish businessman. For once, it would actually work out quite well for you.

“Dad—”

“I’ll be checking in.”

He hangs up.

Standing in the middle of your kitchen, you huff, nose scrunched up and eyebrows furrow as you try to think your way out of this. Getting through to your father is impossible, getting through to your mother, even more so. She’s always preferred to stick to philanthropy, anyway, having zero interest in what you and your father do. You scowl to yourself, already beginning to run out of options. Is your list really that short? Who else in your family could help?

Suddenly, you smack your head, shocked at how forgetful you’ve been. You grab your phone from where it sits on the counter and dial his number.

“Y/N?” Jungkook asks from the other end, voice still groggy. At least he gets to sleep in.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you say, sighing out your hello to sound more casual.

“What’s up?” He asks in between yawns.

“Listen, Dad just assigned me to oversee that new resort hotel on the beach just outside of town,” you say economically. You’ve always gotten straight to the point with your brother. It’s the only reason the two of you aren’t constantly at each other’s necks anymore.

“Really? That’s awesome!” Jungkook says excitedly, voice jumping up half an octave.

“I mean…” You begin, because it’s really… not.

“This probably means that Dad’s going to retire soon, don’t you think? Since he’s giving you such a big responsibility, right?” Jungkook asks, a suggestion that nearly sends you into a coughing fit at the mere thought of it. Retirement?

“You think so?” You ask, a little terrified.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook says, and you can hear his nonchalant shrug through the phone. “Maybe. He has been talking a lot recently about what’s going to happen when you take over the company.”

“Don’t you want that same responsibility, though?” Jungkook has never been treated as a business equal the same way you have, despite having the same expensive education as you and being much better with people. You’ve always wondered if that’s bothered him.

“Not really,” Jungkook tells you, and you can hear the familiar log-in sound of his computer in the background. “I mean, I’ve always known you were going to inherit the company. This sort of thing just makes sense to me.”

You frown to yourself. “You don’t want to be involved with the business at all?”

“No, it’s not like that,” Jungkook says with a sigh, voice still groggy. “I’m happy that I’m getting the work experience and everything. But it’s just never something I’ve seen as part of my future.”

Mostly because it’s always been yours.

The fact of the matter is that Jungkook, even if he is younger, and a little more rambunctious, and a little bit more impulsive, has always been the better candidate to take over the family business. He excels at task-driven jobs and has charmed the pants off of everyone he’s ever met, from Yoongi to your florist to the nice woman at the customer service counter at your local grocery store. He’s a quick decision-maker and never second-guesses himself. He also has zero problems with his love life and potential partners, something that your parents are desperate for you to figure out. He’s perfect for the position.

So why are you the heir?

“What, are you just going to livestream video games for a living, then?” You ask snarkily, already knowing that he’s sat at his desk, ready for another match.

“Probably. I could probably double the family’s fortune, you know,” he says, and he’s right. What he does is equally as profitable as what you do, and he gets bonus points because it’s something that he genuinely enjoys.

“You better get started then, gamer boy,” you say, hearing his bubbly laugh echo through the phone before you hang up.

Jungkook would take over the resort hotel management if you asked, and you know it. He’s got the experience and the expertise to do it flawlessly, no questions asked. But he won’t, because you won’t ask that of him. Because even if you don’t want to do it, it is better you than him. Someone in this family deserves to do what they love for a living. And nobody deserves that more than him.

The Honey Nut Cheerios slosh around in the milk in the bowl in front of you. You aren’t very hungry anymore.

Your father has always had an eye for design, a trait he never seemed to pass on to you. It’s no wonder why he’s the one the architectures and interior decorators run everything by while you manage the finances. It’s something your mother always says she loves about him. So, even if you are assigned to oversee a resort hotel that you have zero interest in whatsoever, at least it looks nice.

“Whoa, this place is fancy,” Hoseok says, gasping as the two of you step out of the car beneath the golden awning that covers the hotel entrance. There are little lights lining the structure, something to bathe the canopy in a sparkling glow when the sun says goodbye for the day, light it up like stars in the night sky.

“You’ve been to my house, this is nothing,” you say with a shrug, making him laugh as the doors open for you, carpet plush and hardly touched. From what you read in the file your father sent you, this place hasn’t been open for more than two weeks.

It looks like it’s barely been occupied.

The security guard, a gruff, stout man, nods a hello to you as you enter.

“Uh, your house doesn’t have security guards,” Hoseok whispers into your ear as you pass him, pointing rather conspicuously to the man behind you. “Your dad really went all out on this one.”

You huff, gritting your teeth. Good thing it’s not an eyesore, otherwise you don’t think you’d last a week here. “Well, he’s always loved the beach.”

“Why does that not surprise me,” Hoseok lilts, whistling as he gazes away from you, guilty.

You smack him with the back of your hand in the middle of his torso. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he says, backing off even though he knows he’s the only person (well, besides Jungkook) who can get away with saying that sort of thing in front of you. “You two have always been polar opposites, I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, well, say it in your head,” you sulk, hitting him again so that he straightens up. You both have a duty to make a good first impression, though Hoseok’s red suit is doing half of the work for him.

As you enter, all of the staff behind the desk scramble to get to their positions, hands together neatly in front of them as you peer over your wire-rimmed glasses to get a good look at the place. It’s clean, elegant, with touches of luxury here and there, a golden coffee table, an accent along the lining of the walls. It smells faintly of lemon and mostly of the ocean, a scent you are going to have to get used to. Everything seems to be in order.

You stroll up the front desk, eyeing everything closely. Behind it, the three employees currently on front-desk duty wait patiently for you to speak. Their names are written in capital letters on gold-plated tags, pinned to the pockets of their blazers. You nod as you memorize their names. Irene, Seohyun, and Seokjin.

Seokjin looks positively wide-eyed, flabbergasted to be seeing you, to be standing in front of you. There’s this faint sort of recognition on his face, like he’s just realized something life-altering, and he’s doing a rather poor job of hiding it. Perhaps he’s just starstruck.

“Well, we might as well get the introductions over with,” you declare, clapping your hands together. The sound makes the three of them jump. “If you didn’t know, I’m Y/N, and I’ll be overseeing this hotel for the foreseeable future. So let’s get along well together. For all of our sakes.”

They nod, polite smiles on their faces.

“Which one of you is the hotelier?” You ask, looking between the three of them. Your father had written it down in that file somewhere but quite frankly, you were so exasperated that you had been assigned the hotel that you hadn’t really looked it over properly.

“That would be me,” the man, Seokjin, says with a tense, small little grin, nodding his head when you turn to face him. He looks strikingly familiar, this sort of picturesque nostalgia that you can’t quite place, angles sharp in the bright light of the hotel. You wonder where you’ve seen it before. Possibly in some magazine or at an event. He certainly is worthy of being photographed.

“Excellent,” you declare happily. “Then you’re on my staff, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I just received word about that last night,” he affirms.

“Wonderful,” you say, fingers tapping against the granite countertops. “I can tell that this will all go smoothly, so long as we all make sure to stay on task. Sounds good?”

“Of course, Miss Jeon,” Seokjin says.

“Please, call me Y/N. I do hate formalities,” you request. “So, shall we get started? I trust that you all know exactly what you’re doing. But I would like to receive a few updates here and there about the goings-on here. Mostly, I would like all total daily income numbers to be faxed to my office, transcripts of all of the customer service requests, and an updated menu. The pizza is far too cheap and the lobster just as expensive. How’s that for a starting list?”

“Would you like those numbers in an Excel sheet or graphed?” Irene asks, eyebrows raised.

“Both,” you answer. She and Seohyun get right to work, leaving you feeling confident that this won’t be a complete train wreck. “Seokjin, you are with me.” You gesture for him to come out from behind the desk, and begin to walk around the lobby of the hotel, hoping to put some distance between you two and the other employees. He stays a solid two feet behind you the entire time, taking quick, short steps so he doesn’t dare start to catch up.

“How can I help, Miss Jeon?” He asks, eyes wide.

You smile, shaking your head. “I told you that Y/N is fine. In any case, since you are the hotelier, I will need a little more from you.” He nods. “First, I need a summary of all expenses and income since you opened, preferably in Excel and formatted cleanly. I’ll also need a list of all of the employees, their respective positions, and their salaries. It would be great if we could begin to eliminate the part-time slots and allow the employees to become full-time so that they receive the same benefits as you and I. I’ll also need information on their schedules.”

You notice he isn’t writing any of this down, simply bobbing his head as you lift off everything you want and a few things that you’re throwing in just so you don’t have to do them.

“I assume that you don’t have constant contact with my father, but I don’t mind being the messenger in regards to hotel infrastructure and design. Any and all malfunctions should also be reported to me. It would also be great if we could maybe lose the curtains in the lobby. I think they close up the room. But, your choice.” You narrow your eyes, looking around to see if there’s anything else that needs urgent attention, when you see Hoseok already beginning to hunt through the concessions room, picking up bags of different themed Jelly Belly. “I think that should be enough for now. Update me whenever possible, please.”

“You got it,” Seokjin says, heading back to the desk as quickly as he had walked away from it, concentration washing over his features. It does, at least, bring you comfort that nobody seems particularly incompetent.

Behind you, you can hear Hoseok muttering a few things at the front desk, most likely having to do with you and your attitude. But you don’t think it’s that big of a deal. You’ve always been work-oriented. It’s always been your biggest focus. Lingering in the lobby, you gaze out the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at the entrance, the slick, newly-paved asphalt, the tropical flowers that surround it. You have always preferred a city to a beach, but at least the time might pass quicker here with people who know how to do their jobs.

Perhaps this might not be so bad after all.

Then, your phone vibrates in your pants pocket.

“Mom,” you greet, surprised that she’s calling you during work. “Hey, how are you?”

“Wonderful!” She shrieks, always the energizer. “Your father told me all about how he assigned you to oversee that new resort. I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks,” you respond, lifeless.

“You know, you have a lot of responsibility now,” she reminds you, as if you had already forgotten how much work goes into supervising something like this. “Directing a hotel and its staff is a big deal. I don’t want you to think that you can just slack off.”

“Mom, I’m not going to slack off,” you explain. “You know I care about this stuff, just like Dad.”

“I know, I know, I’m just making sure. We want to make sure the company is in good hands when your father retires. He doesn’t have too many years left, you know.”

“Well, whenever he’s ready, I’ll be too,” you assure her, a promise you have vowed to uphold, no matter what becomes of you or your social life.

“Good.” The conversation ends there. Or, more takes a quick pause, which can only mean one thing. Your mother has something else she needs to tell you. “Speaking of seeing you off…”

“Yes—?”

“Your father and I both think it’s high time you start to settle down with someone. You know we don’t want to see you end up all alone,” she begins, the same argument that you’ve had with your parents time and time again.

“Mom, you know that I’m not really interested in going out and finding people right now.” Or ever.

“Yes,” she begins, sucking in her breath between her teeth. Oh, goodness, what’s she going to say now? “But luckily, you don’t have to. You’re so busy, we can’t expect you to just drop everything. So we did.”

“You what?”

“Your father and I have set you up on some dates—just a couple!—with some of his associates’ sons,” she explains, but you are already livid. “We just think that you should be taking more time to see—”

“See what?” You demand. “See his friends’ bratty sons tell me how much money they make? See their cars and their clothes and their stupid Italian leather shoes? See them tell me how I work too hard and that I should just stay at home while they go out and change the world? No thank you.” You can’t name a thing in this world less appealing. Except perhaps supervising a resort hotel against your will. But even that’s better, because the men here actually know what they’re doing.

“Honey, you just aren’t giving them the opportunity—”

“Mom, they don’t deserve an opportunity. I don’t need to be dating people right now. At all!” You exclaim. “Like you said, I’m busy. If Dad is going to retire soon then I need to be ready for it. I have other priorities.”

“Your happiness is our priority,” your mother insists, convinced she’s doing you a good deed by setting you up on blind dates with rich men who care more about their watches and Italian leather shoes than they would a woman.

“Working makes me happy,” you say between gritted teeth. “I’m perfectly happy as I am.”

“Will you please just give them a try, honey? You never know,” she pleads, desperate to get you to agree with something.

“Fine,” you say, caving in just to get her to stop talking about it. “But don’t expect anything out of it.”

“Yay! That’s all I wanted to hear.” You can hear her relief through the phone.

“Anything else?” You ask, rubbing at your temples, wishing desperately for this day to be over so you can just go home and take a nice, hot bath, and dream about the mystery man in his black masquerade mask. You’re not interested in dating, sure, but for him, you think you'd make an exception. If only you knew who he was.

“That’s it. Love you, honey, congratulations on the new resort!” She hangs up in that same voice that she started with, bubbly and animated, and the moment you hear the line go dead, you throw your dignity to the dogs and groan to yourself.

“God almighty,” you mutter angrily, shaking your head as you rest your head in your hands, fingers massaging at your forehead. Another blind date? How could you possibly have agreed to that? The more you think about the more you wish that this part of your life was the dream instead. Fairytales are overrated but quite frankly, you certainly wouldn’t mind if that man from the party waltzed right into your life and swept you off your feet. He certainly had no trouble doing it last night. You wonder what he’s up to, now—

“Miss Jeon?”

You jump at the voice, scaring both you and Seokjin as you turn, a little cry escaping your lips instinctively. “Oh my God, you frightened me. And please, Y/N is fine. Better, actually.”

Seokjin looks like a deer in headlights, terrified to even talk to you, let alone address you by your first name. You appreciate the professionalism but have never been too fond of the whole ‘Miss’ thing. As if you or your parents need any more reminding that you’re single. Your first name feels much more natural. He flounders twice, opening his mouth to say something before shutting it again, as though whatever he says will suddenly enrage you.

“Do you… need anything, Seokjin?” You ask, prompting him since he doesn’t seem to be taking matters into his own hands.

The sound of his name from your lips snaps him out of his daze. “Oh! Yes, I do, actually. I just wanted to ask if you wanted me to include personal expenses on the part of the hotelier in the Excel sheet.”

“Personal expenses? Did you receive a credit from my father?” You ask, an eyebrow raised in surprise.

“Yes, it was mailed to me just last week. I’ve only used it for a couple of items, though—”

“Like what?” You ask, head tilted.

He blushes red, cheeks rosy like cherries in summer. “The curtains in the lobby.”

You bark out a laugh, amused at how unexpected this whole thing is. The one thing Seokjin spends money on, you instruct him to take down. At the sound of your chortle, Seokjin backs away, like a cat scared of thunder claps. “Of course,” you say, looking up at the sky and exhaling. Fate. “Please include those.” He nods, already making to scurry back to the front desk, but another sentence from your mouth stops him in his tracks. “Oh, and if you think that the curtains look nice, then leave them. I was never good at interior design anyway.”

You crack a smile, hoping that Seokjin will at least recognize that you’re attempting to be funny and grin, validating you and your lacking sense of humor. He doesn’t, but he does nod once more, and you at least feel like the ice between you is beginning to crack.

Seokjin rushes back towards the front desk, taking on the enormous list of tasks you’ve assigned him without so much blinking an eye. You watch as his eyebrows furrow in concentration, knitting themselves together above the scrunch of his nose, as his eyes zero in on his computer screen. It’s obvious that he knows exactly what he’s doing and has no issues regarding his work whatsoever. Good thing he’s the hotelier.

From here, you can use supervision as a cover for the way that you are blatantly ogling him, his figure and his face, finding yourself rather impressed at the sight in front of you. Here, in this lavish, modern hotel, he looks like a prince rather than a manager, clean button-down shirt and fitted slacks, tailored to fit his short torso and long legs. His hair hangs in front of his face in strands, the same sort of hairstyle that the attractive male love interests get, messy and tousled but still fresh. It looks good on him. He certainly wears it well.

You don’t think being here will be too bad, so long as you have him.

“Hey.” You feel Hoseok wrap his arm around you, joining you as you stand by the windows. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you promise. “I am.”

Hoseok motions back towards them, where they work diligently behind the front desk as they wait for the next guests to arrive. Seokjin, thinking you aren’t looking, steps back from his computer for just a moment to take some breaths, catch some air. He stretches, arms above his head as his shirt is pulled out from where it’s tucked into his pants. Even from here, you can see the toned lines of his torso, his healthy, slim figure.

Something about him is so familiar. Maybe you met him in a past life.

“I think you’ll be fine, Y/N,” he promises, bright white smile gazing back at you, happy as always. “You don’t have anything to worry about. They all look like they know what they’re doing. Especially that Seokjin guy.”

Being here wasn’t your first choice. It wasn’t even your second. But you have people that you can’t let down, and responsibilities to uphold. Besides, you don’t think it’ll be that bad. At least, not with someone like Seokjin around. Perhaps there is always a silver lining.

“Yeah,” you repeat again, exhaling. Hoseok turns to look at you, fondness lacing his features, and you smile to yourself. “I know.”

Very seldom are you shouted at by people that your family has employed. The fear of being fired due to disagreeing with your boss is enough to keep many people quiet. Submissive, even.

But not Hoseok.

“What is with these eye bags, Y/N?” He exclaims at you, exasperated as he picks up the color-correcting pot from his kit and turns around to face you. “I thought we agreed on eight hours of sleep per night. Getting less than that is a death sentence!”

“I’m fine, Hoseok,” you insist, even though the bags underneath your eyes are deeper than the Grand Canyon. You, admittedly, have not been sleeping as much as Hoseok has insisted upon.

“No, you’re not, look at you! Earlier today you shoved your toothbrush into your ear when I called you while you were about to start brushing your teeth,” Hoseok reminds you, an embarrassing moment in your life that you would prefer to keep just between the two of you. Sometimes you just mix up what’s in your hands. It happens.

You frown. “I thought we agreed not to mention that.”

“Your skin is looking dry, too,” Hoseok says, dabbing on the product underneath your eyes. “These are all signs that your body isn’t doing well.”

“Okay, Dr. Jung,” you say with a roll of your eyes, making Hoseok scowl playfully at you. “But I’m fine. I’m just working a little bit harder right now. That’s all.”

“That’s what you always say,” Hoseok points out, unimpressed with your measly excuse. “Every time I talk to you about how you aren’t taking care of yourself, you always go, ‘It’s because of work, I’m fine,’ or ‘Don’t worry about me, I just have a lot to do right now.’ It’s not healthy.”

“I don’t sound like that!” You object, offended at his mocking high-pitched impression of you. You don’t sound like Hoseok on helium. You refuse to accept that.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hoseok says, shrugging you off as he pulls out the concealer. “I’m serious, Y/N. You work yourself way too hard. This event is supposed to be a fun business gala and you’re probably going to spend the whole time checking your email.”

“I will not!” You will.

Hoseok frowns, seeing right through you. One of the many benefits of being your personal assistant is the fact that he can read you like a children’s book. He also knows that he can say whatever he wants to you without fear of getting fired—not that he cares about that, either, because he’s probably got enough money in his bank account to put three kids through college. If he ever wanted to have kids, that is. So this is how conversations like these usually go.

“If I didn’t like your live text updates on the stupid things people wear to these things so much, I would make you leave your phone at home,” Hoseok tells you. “You really do need to take time for yourself.”

“I do take time for myself,” you rebuke with a pout, thinking about how you’ve started waking up five minutes later so you have more time to sleep in. It means that you don’t get to read the morning news like you used to, but sometimes putting off politics until after you’ve had coffee is a good thing.

“A once-a-month ten-minute bath while you put on a rose face mask doesn’t count,” Hoseok tells you pointedly. “You need to be incorporating this sort of thing into your everyday life. By taking time off. All you ever do is work.”

“It’s not my fault,” you huff, closing your eyes so Hoseok can do some eyeshadow. “I have a whole hotel to oversee after my dad assigned it to me. There’s a lot that I have to manage. Plus, my mom is making me go on these stupid blind dates with their associates’ snobby sons who still think that the pay gap isn’t real.”

Hoseok tuts to himself, shaking his head as he brushes color onto your eyelids. “Your parents have such bad taste in men for you.”

“I know!”

“This is even further proof that you need to relax more,” Hoseok says economically, brain immediately connecting your predicament to his agenda to get you to take more time off, as always. “Because men stress you out.”

“Just them, but yes,” you correct.

“What do you mean ‘Just them’? Is there someone you’re interested in that doesn’t stress you out?” Hoseok demands, tapping your cheek to get you to open your eyes. You do and the first thing you see is Hoseok’s face, two inches from yours, staring at you as he waits for an answer.

You sigh. You might as well tell him about the mystery man. Clearly, you underestimated his power, because it’s been a week and you’re still thinking about him. “Yes, but—”

“‘Yes’?” Hoseok asks, shocked. “What the fuck, when did you meet him? What does he look like? What’s his name? Job? Is he rich?”

“At my birthday party,” you say. You can picture the scene perfectly in your mind. The balcony, the stars, the mask. The feeling of his hands on your waist, his lips on yours. They’ve been etched into your brain. “We talked on the balcony for a little while and then we kissed.”

“You what?”

“Don’t overreact, it’s not that big of a deal,” you order. The mere recollection of it is already making your body restless and your cheeks burn.

“What do you mean? It’s a huge deal!”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” you interrupt, sighing to yourself, “because he ran off at midnight Cinderella-style and I don’t know his name, or his job, or even what he really looks like because he was wearing a mask the whole time.”

Hoseok stops dead in his tracks, the loose power leaving a puff of smoke in between the two of you as his words sink in. Yeah. That’s how you feel too. You finally develop an interest in somebody after years of going it solo and you don’t know a damn thing about him. Other than the fact that he is a fantastic kisser. Which is not an appropriate identifier. You suppose that you could use the mask, but you don’t even know half of the people your mother invited. How are you supposed to narrow down who was wearing a black mask and who wasn’t?

The fact is that unless a miracle happens, you don’t have any way of figuring out who that man is. Yet another thing that you have to dwell on while you worry about everything else going on in your life.

Hoseok sits on his words for a few more moments, trying to figure out the right thing to say. Eventually, he settles on, “Damn. That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“Can you do anything to find him?”

You shake your head, resigning yourself to a life where the mystery man will forever remain a mystery. “No. I don’t even know who was on the guest list.”

“What if you ask Jungkook?” Hoseok poses. “Maybe he knows him.”

“Jungkook does not need to know about my barely-there love life,” you say with a self-deprecating chuckle. You and your brother typically keep your conversations far away from that realm of topics, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Jungkook is rather flush with admirers. Many of whom have gotten to know him a little bit… closer. “It’s no big deal, ‘Seok. I’m not really desperate to find love. I just need to focus on work, right now.”

“I wish you wouldn’t work yourself so hard, Y/N,” Hoseok says with a melancholic smile, knowing that no matter what he tells you, you’ll always be too determined for your own good. At least he tries.

You purse your lips in understanding. Hoseok just wants what’s best for you, but what’s best for you right now is being ready for your father’s impending retirement. “There’s just too much that I have to do.”

“At least you’ll have help with the resort,” Hoseok offers, always looking on the bright side. “That Seokjin fellow seems like he really knows what he’s doing.”

You think back to your visits to the resort. Your longest stay was the first day you arrived, but you’ve been making frequent trips back to check in. And every time you arrive, Seokjin is waiting dutifully for your next orders, always getting your completed requests back to you on time, formatted perfectly. He listens to your every word and asks the right questions. He knows exactly what to do and he has no problems admitting when he doesn’t. He’s even started bringing you the occasional coffee.

He’s also terribly handsome, but you try to think about other things when you look at him.

Hoseok’s right. At least you have Seokjin. His impeccable work ethic is half the reason you aren’t wearing yourself thin worrying about the resort. He was definitely meant to be a hotelier.

“I guess you’re right.” You nod, letting Hoseok brush a deep maroon lipstick onto you as he finishes up with your makeup. “It could be worse.”

Hoseok mumbles in agreement, stepping back. “Let me look at you.”

You stand up, gown, heels, makeup, and all, letting Hoseok gaze at you to make sure that everything is flawless. You’ve never liked the events you have to attend, but getting dressed up is always something you rather enjoy. Especially when Hoseok is the one doing it.

The dress drapes down your figure perfectly, hugging your sides as it gathers on the floor, leaving just enough space for the tips of your heels to peek out. Your necklace hangs low on your torso and your earrings dangle, soft golden strings with gems at the base. Your eyes sparkle with the help of the glitter that Hoseok has added, touches of shimmer on the high points of your face. You look into the mirror and for once, you feel satisfied.

“Wow,” Hoseok says, proud and beaming. “Look at you.”

There you are.

Days at the resort hotel pass by faster now.

Granted, no work day could ever top the speed at which the days passed when you were younger, playing outside with friends or running around in the yard during recess. But being here isn’t as terrible as you had first made it out to be. At least you don’t have your father constantly looking over your shoulder, even if he does call you every day to ask for updates. And at least the people here have integrity, more so than any of the usual executives you work with up in the central building in town. The people here aren’t brown-nosing you every minute of every day.

And yes, getting to see Seokjin every day is also rather enjoyable. From a professional perspective.

Hoseok says you need to take more time for yourself and relax more but quite frankly, being at the resort hotel is a vacation. It’s a respite from the hustle-and-bustle culture that your father has cultivated in his office building. It’s a break from the neverending business deals, the meetings, the agreements and bargains and contracts. And most importantly, it’s something that you can do without your father’s help.

For once, it almost feels like a little taste of freedom.

Of course, Hoseok would also tease you terribly about the fact that you consider overseeing a resort hotel a break, as opposed to an actual holiday where you take real time off. But he must know that that’s never going to happen. At least, not anytime soon.

You hadn’t realized your father’s retirement was so close. The years pass by in a blur but you have always thought that your father has much too much to finish, tasks and projects, and events that will take another few years to come to fruition. Too many loose ends that he needs to tie up, deals he must close and finances he must track. You’ve been groomed to take over for him since you were young, even before you graduated, but retirement has always felt like a distant future.

Not an imminent happening.

Jungkook hadn’t even sounded surprised when you told him that you would be overseeing the new resort.

You wonder if you’re the only one in your family who hadn’t expected your father to be planning his retirement so soon. The money and savings isn’t an issue—he will continue to invest long after he leaves his office—but the time is. Perhaps he has finished more than you thought he would. Accomplished more goals than you expected he’d do.

Or perhaps, you just grew up too quickly.

Time has always gone by much too fast for your liking. When you were little, when you were in school, when you graduated. You closed your eyes and suddenly all of your youth had whizzed by. You woke up and suddenly you were in and out of four years of college and two years of a Master’s in business. You blinked and suddenly you are about to inherit a company you thought you never would.

The fear of everything ending is enough to keep you away. Away from that skyscraper in the center of the city, where your father’s office sits at the top floor, where he works nonstop to make sure that everything is ready for your arrival. Away from a future you thought you could avoid, until it reached you.

Having this resort hotel, a brand new building in the beachy part of town, with efficient, competent staff and a gorgeous view, is enough to make you want to live in the past forever.

Your phone screen lights up with your father’s contact for the third time today, the green ‘answer’ button and the red ‘decline’ button waiting patiently for your decision. Staring down at it, you frown. You normally aren’t one to purposely miss your father’s calls, but today is the day that the deal with the Ohs is finalized, something that you have zero desire to celebrate.

After a few more moments, your phone stops vibrating in your hand, the screen going back. You roll your eyes and stuff it into the pocket of your pants, not wanting to wait for it to light up once more. You have a feeling that your mother will be phoning shortly to berate you for not answering your father’s calls, a call that you have every intention of ignoring just like the previous ones. You aren’t sure how to make clearer the fact that you think the deal is a bad idea. A terrible one, even. Mostly because the Ohs are horrible people.

Still, you cannot resist pulling your phone out when you feel it buzz against your side.

[Today, 12:27PM]

Jungkook: dude dad’s flipping out because you aren’t answering his calls

Ugh. Not Jungkook, too.

You: Tell him that I will congratulate him on the deal in person later. You: I’m busy right now.

Jungkook: he’s calling just to check in on the resort

You: I give him weekly updates and forward him any pressing news. He’ll manage.

Jungkook: just call him or mom’s gonna call you

You: Tell her that I will congratulate him on the deal in person. You: Later.

Jungkook: are you gonna be like this until dad retires?

You: Like what?

Jungkook: -_- Jungkook: don’t play stupid Jungkook: you’re being stubborn and you know it.

You: Dad already knows that I didn’t approve of him going through with the deal. I don’t imagine he’s expecting a party from me.

Jungkook: you can’t keep ignoring him just because you didn’t approve of one thing Jungkook: how is that professional???? Jungkook: you’re inheriting the business soon Y/N Jungkook: you need to start acting like it

You: Don’t tell me how to act when you aren’t the one busting your ass trying to make sure the business is ready for when he retires. You: You have your own life to lead and your own things to do. It’s not your place.

Jungkook: as a businessman, it isn’t Jungkook: as your brother, it is

You scowl at your screen. The brother card. Jungkook pulls it whenever he and you both know that you’re being unreasonable, and the worst part is that it always works. It always works because Jungkook only ever wants the best for you, wants to see you succeed as a businesswoman, as a future CEO, and as his sister. And who are you to deny him such a simple pleasure?

You: I just have a lot on my plate right now. Dad and I can talk later.

Jungkook: yknow Jungkook: like, occupationally, you are more than ready to inherit the company and you know it. Jungkook: you work so hard 24/7 and you never take breaks, you know exactly what you’re doing and you can command a room better than anyone i’ve ever met Jungkook: but Jungkook: oh idk

You: What?

An impromptu psychoanalysis from your wise-beyond-years younger brother is certainly not something you had been expecting today. But Jungkook always has and always will know you better than anyone else, something that is both a blessing and a curse.

Jungkook: you are so fucking ready to inherit the business Jungkook: i just wish you would realize it

Silence. You pause, watching the three dots appear and disappear over and over again, Jungkook typing and deleting what next he wants to say. Chuckling to yourself, you read his message over and over again.

What’s Jungkook on about? Doesn’t he know what you do? The position you have? Just because you’ll eventually take over the business doesn’t mean you’re ready for it. Isn’t Jungkook aware of how much work you have to do? About how your father assigned you this resort hotel as punishment for disagreeing with him?

You aren’t ready.

You’re barely halfway.

You: Yeah, right.

Jungkook: i’m serious Y/N Jungkook: can’t you see how prepared you are

You: I still have lots to do, Jungkook. Just because I’ve been given more responsibility doesn’t suddenly mean Dad’s going to retire tomorrow and that I’m ready to take over.

Jungkook: that’s not what i meant and you know it

You: I don’t feel like talking about this anymore. Tell Dad that I’ll talk to him about the deal later.

Jungkook: … Jungkook: fine Jungkook: but don’t say i didn’t try to tell you

You angrily switch your phone off, fuming at the fact that the deal’s gone through, fuming at how Jungkook thinks that suddenly because you were given a resort hotel to oversee it means that you’re ready to take over from your father, and fuming at how, above all, there’s a part of you and a part of Jungkook that both know that he is, as usual, right.

There’s a knock on the door to your makeshift office at the hotel and you lose it.

“What?”

You look up just in time to see Seokjin jump slightly at your shout, coffee sloshing around in the cups in his hand. Ah. You hadn’t meant to scare him like that.

Exhaling, you rub at your temples as you set your phone down on the desk, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, Seokjin. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Please, come in.”

“Coffee?” He offers, a small smile on his face as he holds it out.

“You are a lifesaver,” you declare, taking the cup from him happily and having a sip. Perfectly scalding. Seokjin waits patiently behind your desk until you’re finished, swaying slightly. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh, no,” he says, shaking his head. “Just thought that I’d let you know that I’ve just got more files on the finances.”

“Oh, excellent,” you declare happily, accepting the small manila folder from underneath Seokjin’s arm. You open it just to browse, and everything seems to be in order. An easy thing to file away for future reference if necessary. And there’s no doubt in your mind that Seokjin’s already faxed you an electronic copy as well. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Seokjin nods. He turns to leave but seems to linger, noticing the tension in your shoulders and the irritation on your face, the way you drink up the boiling coffee like it’s nothing, relishing in the burn down your throat. He almost stops himself, opening his mouth slightly and then closing it, but then he just sighs, and he asks, “Are you alright?”

You sputter out the coffee all over the manila folder in front of you. “I’m sorry,” you say over coughs, the beverage going down the wrong pipe in all of the chaos. “What—what did you say?”

“You just seem more stressed than usual, is all,” Seokjin says, rocking back and forth on his feet with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his ink black slacks.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been snappy recently,” you say, admitting it. “There’s just a lot I’m dealing with right now. Mostly to do with work.”

“I hope I’m helping, then?” He says hopefully, a hesitant grin on his face.

You nod in agreement. Without him, you definitely wouldn’t be sleeping half as much as you do now (which is apparently still not enough, according to Hoseok). At least Seokjin’s there. “You definitely are. I don’t think I’d have made it without you,” you chuckle.

Seokjin smiles. “If you need me to do more, I’d be happy to. Just ask.”

“Thank you, Seokjin. I really appreciate that,” you tell him. In the short time you’ve known him, Seokjin’s kindness has outshone even his stellar work ethic, a trait that you’ve come to admire in him, mostly because you know you can only dream of being as generous as he. “It means a lot.”

“Anytime,” he says, and he means it, too. “I’ll always be here for you.”

And standing here, in your makeshift office, with a matching cup of coffee in his hand, and a gorgeous, toothy smile on his face, you know that he means that, too.

Sometimes, you can’t even believe a man like Seokjin exists. He’s practically flawless.

“I will bear that in mind,” you promise. “You really are a wonderful person, Seokjin. Really.”

Seokjin grins, the compliment going straight to him, blushing furiously as he exits your office, waving a tiny goodbye on his way out. You return it, watching fondly as he nearly crashes into the door frame, hand slamming onto it before he realizes. He laughs at his clumsiness and even from here you can see his cheeks get redder, heating up like the coffee in his hand.

Work is hard. Being the unprepared heir to an enormous conglomerate even harder. But Seokjin’s right.

At least you’ll always have him.

You’ve never been one to develop friendships with your employees, but there is something about Seokjin that’s different. Something about him that makes him a confidant first and a hotelier second. Something about him that pulls you in, an electric, magnetic touch.

You feel like you’ve known him longer than you feel. Feel like you’re closer than you really are.

Some people are just like that, you suppose. Some people just make you wish that you had known them forever.

Quite frankly, you don’t think you could name a single thing wrong about Seokjin even if you tried. He gets your coffee order perfect (not that it’s hard, it’s just that you’ve never told him what it is), he does all of his work before you’ve even asked, and he runs the damn resort hotel better than you do. He’s obviously a people-person and can make others laugh without trying. He’s even figured out how to compliment you, a trait that not even grown businessmen have learned.

The days pass in a blur, made quicker by the ease of working with him. Of being around him. Seokjin lifts up your spirit and he doesn’t even have to try. His competence in the workplace is enough to have you coming by the resort daily instead of weekly, hourly instead of daily, just so you can spend time in a place that, for once, makes you feel relaxed.

Hoseok would say that Seokjin is a miracle-worker.

You would say that he’s just brilliant.

Honestly, sometimes you think that even Seokjin is more well-equipped to run your family’s business than you are. And you’re the heiress.

The differences between Seokjin and all other men you’ve had the displeasure of interacting with (besides Jungkook, because he’s your brother, and Hoseok, because he’s the best) become abundantly clear after your second mother-mandated blind date.

The first one that you went on a couple of weeks ago was alright. He wasn’t an asshole, but also he had the same amount of flavor as the plain white bread that you were served prior to the meal. But no points is better than negative points, right?

You mentioned to your mother that you probably wouldn’t be interested in a second date with him. She didn’t sound surprised.

Unfortunately for you, your second blind date was not nearly as uneventful.

The good part about your date was that it was a brunch arrangement, which is unabashedly your favorite meal of the day and also saves you the trouble of having to get all dressed up for a fancy dinner in the center of the city. But that is where the good parts end.

You don’t know what your parents were thinking, setting you up with a man like Sangmin. Every single thing that you have ever complained to them about a man, Sangmin either did or was. The first red flag was how he showed up to your brunch meeting wearing a navy blue suit. It didn’t get any better from there.

You know that your parents just want you to find someone and settle down, someone who can take the weight off of your shoulders and get you to stop working so hard, someone who will make you happy and who can keep you comfortable, someone who is something that you genuinely will want to spend time with, but you can’t explain why, with this knowledge of your preferences and dislikes, they still send you on dates with men like Sangmin.

Men who boast about their money with every chance they get, checking the time just so they can flash their Rolex watch even though their phone is right there, telling you how many fancy cars they own that deserve a woman like you in the passenger seat. Men who try to explain economic practices that your family pioneered to you. Men whose eyes flash with dollar signs when they hear that you’re going to be inheriting your family’s company.

Your parents want you to find someone who can take the weight off of your shoulders and keep you comfortable? They should let you pick.

At one in the afternoon and not a moment later, you storm into your office, flinging your bag onto your chair as you groan aloud, staring out the window and fighting the urge to punch right through the Plexiglass. There’s no word for the way you’re feeling, the unintelligible growl that you let out. You just aren’t having a very good day.

Your desire to interact with men is at an all time low, and yet, you can’t help but turn around when you hear his voice.

“Knock, knock,” Seokjin says from the doorway, two cups of steaming coffee in his hand. He strolls up happily to you, placing the plastic cup in your outstretched hand. “How’d it go?”

“Bad,” you spit, not wanting to say anything else.

“Oh, no, really?” Seokjin asks, genuinely disappointed. At least someone was rooting for you. You don’t even think you had been rooting for yourself. “Worse than the first guy?”

“Say the first guy was just… slightly stale white bread, okay?” You begin to explain, because Seokjin doesn’t need the details and you don’t need to relive the experience. “Then this guy would be… how would you put it—?”

“Really stale white bread?” Seokjin offers.

“A rotten egg mayonnaise sandwich that’s been sitting in a dumpster for two weeks,” you correct.

Seokjin winces. A perfect reaction, as always.

“It was just bad. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” You decide once and for all, moving to your desk and slamming the coffee cup onto the wood. It sloshes over the edge and splashes around the side, leaving behind a ring that you know you’ll have to clean up later.

Seokjin goes to stand by the window, looking out into the back gardens of the resort, all tropical red flowers and vibrant green leaves. “You have a third one, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you groan, the mere thought sending shivers down your spine. And not the good kind. The fact that the dates aren’t even over yet is enough to send you into a tailspin. “God, my parents are just desperate, at this point.”

“Why?” He asks, turning to face you, brown eyes wide and curious. “Are they worried about something?”

“Ugh,” you begin, on the verge of slamming your head onto the mahogany. The problem isn’t that your parents are worried you won’t find someone. It’s that your parents think that it’s their job to find someone for you. “I think they’re scared that I’m never going to marry, or that I work myself too hard and need someone to spend time with to calm down. I don’t understand. Even if I were to never marry, that’s not a bad thing. I can do what I want. I’m perfectly capable of running my family’s group without someone else.”

“Do you not want to get married?” Seokjin asks. The reason, you realize, that Seokjin is so refreshing, a respite from the rest of the executives that constantly surround you, is because he doesn’t expect anything of you. He doesn’t assume that you’ll eventually marry and become disparaging when you suggest otherwise. He doesn’t assume that you constantly need guidance on official matters that you alone have been tasked to handle. He doesn’t assume that you aren’t capable.

(He did assume your preferred coffee order. And he is an excellent judge.)

“I mean,” you begin, rubbing at your temples in a desperate attempt to relieve your body of the stress that sits upon it, “I suppose that eventually, it would be nice. But I’m in no rush if I haven’t met the right person, you know? Like, I’m not going to force myself to if the time isn’t right. There’s no deadline to get married.”

Seokjin nods in agreement, mouth shut. One of your favorite things about Seokjin is how, whenever you begin to speak, he begins to listen.

“My parents are just putting all of this pressure on me to get married because they think that I’ll need someone’s help when I take over after my father retires. Or they just think that I’m sad and lonely. Which, maybe they’re right about the second part, but I just hate how they’re putting all of this pressure on me to go on dates and get married and work hard when there isn’t even a timeline for me to take over yet. I don’t even have real confirmation that my father is planning on retiring anytime soon. I just—ugh!” There really is no better way to put it than to just shriek and throw your hands up in the air. You sigh, dragging your hand down the side of your face. “Do you ever wish that you could just… I don’t know. Disappear?”

Seokjin’s eyes widen when he hears your words, like they’ve set something off in his brain. Even sitting on your tongue, they feel familiar to you. Where have you heard those before?

He seems to wait for another few moments, contemplating what he’s next going to say, like if he just opens his mouth and lets the words flow out he’ll say something wrong. Little does Seokjin know, in your eyes, nothing he could ever say would be wrong to you.

“You aren’t sad and lonely,” he begins, a nice, comforting pep talk even though you sort of are both sad and lonely. You work nonstop and have three friends, two of which are employed by your family, the other one being your brother. “And you don’t need to rush into getting married if you don’t feel like it, no matter what your parents say. I mean, at least I think you don’t. You’re obviously much more focused on your career and how you want to succeed in the future, and that’s good. It’s something that means a lot to you.”

He takes a few steps towards you, setting his coffee cup on your desk. You look up to him from where you’re sitting in your office chair, letting his words carve themselves deep into your heart, rest within your soul.

Sometimes, you don’t realize you’ve gotten yourself down until someone is trying to pick you back up.

“You do have control over your life,” he tells you, and for once in your life you actually feel yourself believing it. “What you are doing, what you have been doing, is right. Things will come with time. You’ll learn and grow more as you keep living. And even if you aren’t looking for them right now—” he says, eyes wide and knowing and promising, looking at you so desperately because God, he just wants you to listen to him. To let his words mean something. “—there is someone out there who will love you.”

The sound of his voice dissipates into the air, sinking into the floor, dust after a storm.

“You really think so?” You ask, hopeful. You never believed in soulmates but you have always believed in love. Believed that when the feeling was right, you would know.

(That kiss still lingers in your mind, like morning dew after a rainy night. Like frost settling over the grass. Is it possible that you can feel like that again?)

Seokjin nods, firm and true. He does think that. He does. “I do,” he says. “I really do.”

The third date is forgettable.

Or perhaps Seokjin has just enchanted you. So much so that your brain doesn’t even choose to remember interactions with other men. They just aren’t as memorable.

You finish up this round of parent-mandated rich boy blind dates and get back to work, knowing that you might as well make the most of your now-unoccupied time before your mother decides once again that it’s time for you to go on dates again with men you have no interest in. Work, unlike so many other things in your life, will always be a constant. For better or for worse.

Today, it’s barely even dawn before you arrive at the hotel. In recent days, the resort has become your hub for all of your work, even the work that doesn’t have anything to do with it. There’s just something calming about being here. Something that makes you feel more productive. That makes you want to work more.

You slide into your office with ease, coffee in one hand and messenger bag in the other, surprisingly awake considering the sun is hardly over the horizon, soft orange rays peeking out from between the trees and skyscrapers. You don’t imagine there’s a lot of tasks of immediate priority waiting for you on your desk, but there’s always other work to be done. Administrative orders, emails to send, requests to be made. Even here, there’s no shortage of items on your never-ending to-do list.

Seokjin’s not due to clock in for another several hours, at least. But he works long days and longer nights, and he deserves at least the morning off. He should at least be afforded that small luxury.

Sitting down in your office chair, you pull yourself into the desk, elbows resting on the hardwood, head in your palms. The smell of coffee wafts through the air, thick and potent, waking up your nerves, one by one, sending small waves through your brain. You close your eyes, almost drifting back to sleep, sighing happily.

Today feels like a good day.

The hours pass quickly when you’re here, the sun rising slowly in the sky as it always does, day in and day out. You rely on it as much as it relies on you, wakes up this little corner of the world, says hello to the people stepping out of their doors and onto the street. No matter what, you know that the sun will always be there to greet you when you wake and say goodbye before you sleep. Within thirty minutes your coffee is finished, within the hour your emails are answered.

One by one, you check the tasks off your list, responding to a phone call or two, forwarding some files to your father, rejecting a business proposal and requesting changes to another. You don’t even notice the minutes blowing past you until the sun is high in the sky, and the clock is chiming twelve. Noon, already?

“Knock knock,” a voice from the doorway calls.

You feel your body relax when you see Seokjin standing there, peeking his head into your office like he always does. He looks much more casual today, a sweater vest over a button-down shirt, looser beige pants in place of his usual tailored slacks, hair sitting in a tousled mess atop his head, forehead peeking through the strands that hang low over his face, brushing his eyelashes. Instinctively, you glance down to your usual pantsuit attire. Did you miss a memo?

“What, no coffee for me today?” You tease, an eyebrow raised as Seokjin enters, coffee cup-less.

“Not today, sorry,” he says with a guilty smile. “I thought that maybe we could get something else to eat.”

“Oh!” You exclaim happily. “Sure, we can order some delivery. What are you feeling? Sushi? A burger? Oh, I know this wonderful brunch place that’s just a few blocks away—”

Seokjin laughs, a hand reaching out to push your phone done. The mere sensation of his fingertips upon your skin are enough to have you looking back up at him, shellshocked, heart frozen in place. “I was thinking something a little different.”

“Like what?” There are plenty of options for the two of you to pick from.

“How about you and I take a break this afternoon?” He asks, eyes wide with ambition.

You frown, nose scrunched up at the notion. “A break? You mean… leave?”

Seokjin nods. Oh, so you did hear him correctly. “You’re always working so hard. You should take some time off.”

“Ugh,” you respond, rolling your eyes, having had this conversation thousands of times before. “You sound like Hoseok.”

“Hoseok’s right, Miss Y/N,” Seokjin points out, much to your chagrin. “You’ve been working so much lately. Just a little break, alright? We can get out of here and do something fun.”

“Nice try, Seokjin,” you say with a scoff, turning back to the work in front of you. “Maybe some other time.” Which means never, so long as you can help it.

“Oh, come on,” Seokjin says, a pleading lilt to his voice. He’s beginning to pout in front of you, lower lip turned outwards. “Just a couple of hours, please? We can go into the city and walk around for a little bit. Eat some food in the park, or something.”

You look up to him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. That does sound good… but you have work to do, items to cross off your list. This hotel isn’t going to manage itself, and neither is your life. “A couple of hours?” You clarify, interest piqued.

“Just a couple,” Seokjin promises, fighting off the grin that’s etching its way across his face. “Please?”

You sigh.

Twenty minutes and a Lyft ride later, you and Seokjin are standing in the middle of the city, along the streets known for their high-class fashion boutiques and expensive restaurants with afternoon tea. There’s a park a couple of blocks to the north. It’s a part of the city that you rarely get to spend time in, usually trapped in the business skyscraper sector a ten-minute subway ride away, but for that reason alone, it feels brand new.

Seokjin buys you both a cup of expensive coffee despite your objections, and the two of you walk along the sidewalks side by side, sipping from your paper cups with plastic lids, letting the warmth wash down your throats.

It’s nice, being out here. Away from anything that reminds you of work. With someone you’ve wanted to spend more time with for a while, now.

Out here, you can almost pretend. Pretend that you aren’t the heiress to a major global conglomerate, pretend that you aren’t being groomed to marry up, pretend that life is just a little more normal.

Out here, you can almost pretend that you and Seokjin are more than just friends.

“Oh my God, Y/N, look at this shirt!” Seokjin gasps, stopping in his tracks in front of the window of one of the most expensive luxury boutiques you can name. You’re pretty sure that Jungkook shops here sometimes.

The shirt in question is a satin white button-down with hand-stitched birds decorating the fabric, wispy little designs that seem to be fluttering off of the material itself. It stands front and center in the window, a masterpiece meant to have people stopping in the streets just to gaze up at it in awe. It’s doing its job rather well.

“You wanna try it on?” You offer, motioning towards the door of the shop, a sleek, black one with metallic silver accents.

“What?” He asks, turning to you with an eyebrow raised.

You smile, pointing up at the shirt, eyes tracing the drape of the fabric. “Come on, just for fun.”

It doesn’t take much more convincing to have Seokjin marching up to the door and pulling it open, giddy like a child walking into a toy store. He spots what he’s looking for immediately, a single shirt on a silver rack, hanging from a simple wire hanger. Other than the one on the mannequin in the window, there seems to be no other option.

“It even feels expensive,” Seokjin sighs happily, hand brushing over the satin fabric. He holds it out to you, and it’s so light and pliable that you can barely feel your fingertips touching the material.

“There’s the fitting room,” you say, pointing to the back corner, black velvet held up by a rod, muted gray paint lining the walls. Seokjin grins excitedly at you before rushing off, disappearing behind the curtain with a flourish.

Instinctively, your eyes trace the interior, jumping from the hangings on the walls to the decorative shelves, the pastel cashmere sweaters and shiny leather loafers, the silken white button downs and navy striped ties. Every item in this room practically screams Seokjin’s name, and even when he isn’t in front of you can you picture him wearing each piece, picture him in an oversized light pink sweater or a sleek white suit.

It’s weird. You’ve never been able to imagine things like that. Not even on you.

The clothes in here are some of the most gorgeous garments you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on and yet there is something else in this room that outshines them all.

“Ready?”

You turn back to the fitting room, watch as the curtain shifts slightly. “Ready,” you say.

A hand comes out to push the curtain to the side, satin sleeves covering his wrist, but not even that glimpse of skin could really prepare you for the sight before your eyes.

Seokjin steps out of the fitting room and you almost gasp aloud at the sight.

The funny part is that he isn’t wearing anything else designed to complete the look. His hair is loose and floppy, like he had brushed through it with his fingers once or twice before deciding it was good enough. His pants are a roomy beige, hardly even complimenting the monochromatic shirt, white with black accents. He’s wearing sneakers.

And yet, he looks stunning.

Standing in front of you, Seokjin looks like the kind of person that your parents would want to set you up with. Rich, well-dressed (not that he isn’t already), powerful, educated. But he looks like more than that, too. He looks like someone straight out of a painting, like a sculpture that belongs in a museum. He stands tall and mighty, the hero after defeating a villain, the love interest in an old-timey film.

God, he looks amazing. Looks like he belongs in those clothes, belongs in this store. Belongs in the kind of life that the usual clientele of this store live in. Something about him is just so familiar. Like he has always fit into the crowd that your parents want you to associate with. Like you’ve seen him before, once upon a dream.

“So,” he says, interrupting your thoughts with a smug smile. “How do I look?”

He must already know the answer to that.

You’re speechless. “I—Wow, Seokjin. You look great.”

A hand comes up to rub at the nape of his neck. “You think so?”

“I know so,” you correct. “It fits you perfectly.”

The fabric shapes his shoulders but drapes over the rest of his torso, including his ridiculously small waist. It both hangs loosely and hugs all of the right places. Your family regularly gets clothing tailored and yet you still don’t think you’ve ever seen any item of clothing fitting someone as well as this one does him. It’s as if the damn thing was made for him.

“It feels like I’m wearing a cloud and a blanket all at once,” he says dreamily, relishing in the feeling. “If only the price tag made me feel this way too.”

“How much is it?”

Seokjin holds out the sleeve to which the tag is attached for you to inspect, and the moment you see a comma in the cost, you understand why. No wonder Jungkook’s fine with shopping here. To your family, that amount is pocket change.

“But you really like it, don’t you?” You ask, looking back up at him, closer now. Seokjin nods, lips pressed together in a thin line, wanting something that he knows he can’t have. You know that feeling, too.

“I would get it if I didn’t mind taking out a loan for it,” he jokes, admiring the detail at the cuffs, the way it cinches in towards his wrist.

“Then let me buy it for you,” you say before thinking twice, because you have more money than you realistically know what to do with and Seokjin deserves it. He looks gorgeous in it and more importantly, he feels gorgeous in it. He emerged from the fitting room and it was almost like there was this white glow surrounding him, this fluorescent halo that made it seem like the shirt was melting into his body.

Seokjin’s eyes widen. “What? No, I can’t let you.”

“Please?” You plead, eyes gazing up to him. “You deserve it. Plus, you look amazing.”

“It’s so much money,” Seokjin reminds you, shaking his head. “I can’t. No.”

“Seokjin, do you even know who I am? I can afford it, don’t worry,” you assure him, already pulling him towards the register, his old sweater vest and button down still hanging on the rack inside the fitting room.

“No, I can’t let you. It might not be a lot of money to you, but it is to me,” insists Seokjin, refusing to back down.

You roll your eyes, figuring out the game that he’s playing. “Then consider it a thank you. For all of the things that you do for me. The least of which is bringing me coffee every day.”

“That’s just my job, Y/N—” He reaches out a hand to stop you from getting out your wallet, his enormous palm cupping yours as you stare at him, fighting over the shirt like two friends with a restaurant bill.

“No,” you tell Seokjin, because his job is to be a hotelier but he became a friend instead. And he didn’t do it just because he was told to. “You deserve it,” you say, placing your free hand on top of his. It makes him look at you, eyes glossy and big and beautiful. “You really do, Seokjin. This is the least I can do to say thank you for being there for me.”

“Ma’am?”

The lady behind the counter catches you both off guard. “Will you be buying this shirt?”

Seokjin looks down at you in disbelief, almost like he doesn’t expect you to say yes. Like he doesn’t think he’s worthy of a shirt with such a high price tag.

But little does Seokjin know, if you could buy the whole universe for him, you would do it in a heartbeat.

You walk out of the boutique with a light heart and a lighter credit card, with Seokjin by your side and his old clothes in a cardstock bag with ribbons for handles. Even if he had resisted at first, you’re happy that he caved. He looks stupidly handsome. You’re actually somewhat regretting agreeing that he should wear the shirt out instead.

A block away from the park is a little macaron store with more available flavors than you can count on both of your hands and toes. Feeling insatiable, you buy a box of twenty-four and decide on the spot that you won’t be leaving the center of the city without having finished them all. The mere scent of the shop as you walked in was enough to send you into a tizzy.

Seokjin scopes out an open spot on the grass, in the shade of a big Japanese maple tree, and the two of you immediately settle down in the park, the blades tickling your ankles as you set the box of macarons in between the two of you and get to work filling your stomachs.

“All of my friends are going to think that you’re like, my sugar mommy for buying me this,” Seokjin says, taking a bite out of the lavender one.

“If you’re really that embarrassed, you could always say that I just gave you a raise,” you offer, peering over into the box to pick your poison. The problem is that you just want to shove all twenty-three into your mouth.

“No way,” says Seokjin over a mouthful of macaron. “A sugar mommy is way more exciting. I’m just lucky I have a boss with a bank account.”

“Well, unlike all of the other men that my parents have sent me on dates with, you actually deserve to have someone treat you once in a while,” you say happily, eventually deciding on a lemon flavored macaron and popping the entire thing into your mouth. “I’ve met very few men who are as charming as you, Seokjin. Charming and kind.”

“‘Very few’?” Seokjin repeats, interest piqued. “Who dares upstage me?”

You laugh at his brazenness, his attractive confidence. “Oh, no one,” you say with a shrug of your hand. “There was this one guy I met at my birthday party, but I didn’t even catch his name.”

“Too busy mingling to ask?” Seokjin teases, looking sufficiently less confident than he did ten seconds ago. Like someone you had just said caught him off guard.

“Yes, actually. And you don’t really need to know this, but he was an excellent kisser, too. Really sent me into a tailspin,” you say, feeling the faint sensation dance across your lips, the ghost of his mouth on yours. “But he ran off at midnight like Cinderella and left only a mask behind to remind me that I didn’t dream up the whole thing.”

“Ah,” Seokjin says with a nod, a strangely succinct answer for a man as wordy as he. A silence settles over the two of you as you continue to eat, slowly emptying out the box of macarons between the two of you, a light snack to keep you occupied when your mouths aren’t running circles around each other. “My dog gave birth a few weeks ago,” he says randomly. “Want to see some photos?”

At your enthusiastic reply, Seokjin pulls his phone from his pocket and opens up his camera roll to reveal a gorgeous terrier with four equally adorable puppies nursing from her, and your heart nearly melts. Nearly all of his most recent photos are pictures of them as they’ve grown older, opened their eyes and learned how to walk, started play-fighting with each other and eventually tracking into new territory (the living room), but you don’t miss the couple of selfies you see here and there. Even with the warped iPhone camera does Seokjin still look positively flawless.

“They’re adorable, Seokjin,” you tell him, heart soft. “I’m in love.”

“Me, too,” Seokjin says happily. “Two of the puppies have future homes but I think I want to keep one of them. I just love them too much to let them all go.”

“You’ll make a great dog dad,” you assure him, sighing contentedly. “God, don’t you even know how perfect you are, Seokjin?”

He is silent.

“Like, you bring me coffee every day and do all of your work and never talk down to me or assume that I don’t know what I’m doing. You’ve raised a family of dogs and have shown them more love than anything else. You even got me to leave the office for once even though you knew that I’d be really annoying about it,” you declare, partially to him, partially to you, and partially to the world, who deserves to know that there is someone out there like Seokjin that is equal parts wonderful and generous and kind and handsome and funny and lovable.

It’s not just the fact that most of your interactions with men your age go sour. It’s the fact that Seokjin is good just because he is, not because he tries to be. It’s the fact that he cares so deeply and loves so much. It’s the fact that for once, there is someone out there who really does understand you.

“You deserve a break,” Seokjin points out. “You work too hard.”

“Hoseok will be so angry that you accomplished what he’s been trying to get me to do for months, now,” you say. You’ve already missed three phone calls and seven texts from him within the last couple of hours.

“It’s my charm,” Seokjin teases, a soft watermelon macaron grin on his face.

“It really is,” you agree, feeling the gap between you close, inch by inch. “There’s just something about you, Kim Seokjin.”

“Mmm, do tell,” Seokjin murmurs, beginning to lean in, your bodies moving of their own accord. Your mouth tastes like lemon and sugar and coffee, but you can’t find it in yourself to care any less. “Because there’s something about you too, Miss Y/N.”

Slowly, you feel your eyes begin to drift shut, craving more than what you already have, itching to feel his lips press against yours, to feel that same fire in your feins. Of course, the next time you kiss someone would be here, underneath a giant Japanese maple in the middle of a city park, the furthest cry from a hotel balcony beneath a starry sky. But something about this is distinctly familiar in a way that you can taste, in a way that you will know once his lips press against yours. Beside you, Seokjin is barely an inch apart from you, pink lips with macaron crumbs hovering over yours. God, he’s so close.

You want him to be closer.

And then—

“Aw, what the—?”

The two of you jerk apart to find a giant stain on Seokjin’s shoulder, courtesy of an unknown flying park visitor who has long disguised themselves amongst the leaves of the maple, waiting for the right time to do its business.

“Seriously?” Seokjin groans, looking down at the white and brown stain that now rests squarely on the fabric of his brand new shirt, an unpleasant splat front and center. “Thank you, bird,” he declares, throwing his hands up in the air.

You fight the urge to laugh at how uncanny all of this is. “I’ll pay for dry cleaning.”

“No, it’s alright,” Seokjin says, grabbing a couple of the napkins from the macaron shop to dab on the stain. “A little soap and laundry detergent will be enough. No big deal.”

“I just feel bad,” you tell him.

“Me, too,” Seokjin agrees, pressing gently against the fabric. “Great timing, too.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, dejected.

Perhaps, if you were a little bit bolder or a little less fearful, you would try again. You would throw caution to the wind and press his lips against his, bird business and all, and never look back. You would relish in the sensation of his mouth on yours, of his hands on your waist, itching to feel that same feeling again. Itching to know that there really is someone out there who will love you.

But you aren’t, and the moment is over. And you can’t, because you just don’t know how to. And you ponder if you will forever wonder what he tastes like, what he feels like.

The clock strikes three.

Some days you come in early, and some days you stay in late.

Later than usual, that is, because you regularly stay past eight in the evening without blinking an eye.

But some nights, you just don’t feel like going home. At least, not yet, you do. Some nights, you would rather stay here.

Home is where you’re supposed to feel at ease, where you’re supposed to relax and unwind, take off your heels and jacket, pour yourself a cup of tea. And that is what your home is to you, a place that you try to keep as free of your work life as possible.

But sometimes, you would rather just work.

Rather work and feel productive and get home a little bit later than go home and feel like you still have so much to do. Rather work than dwell on all of the other parts of your life that don’t involve work, things like marriage and retirement and your family. Things that you feel like you have no say in, no control over. You go home and waiting for you is another phone call from your mother telling you that you need to find someone. You go home and your father drops by to hand you a pile of late-night tasks reminiscent of how hard he’s been working lately. You go home and even if you’re all by yourself, your thoughts take control over your mind. Your worries and fears are magnified.

So some nights, you would rather just work.

Peering out the window of your office, you notice that the stars are just a little bit brighter out here, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Not nearly as clear as they were on your birthday, at a hotel overlooking the town from afar, but clearer. There isn’t a cloud in the sky as the stars twinkle above you, waving hello from millions of light years away.

Nights like these are too rare to spend indoors, huddled over your computer as you draft another email. Just because you’re still at work doesn’t mean you still have work to do. Well, you do, but you’re trying to be kinder to yourself. Trying to cut yourself a few more corners of slack.

The rooftop is not off limits to guests. But you know a couple of secret places that can afford you the privacy you want, the space to lie back against the cement and feel the breeze tickle your skin.

When you arrive, there’s already someone there. A familiar tuft of brown hair, an oversized pink sweater. You wonder how long he’s been out here.

“Knock knock.” Your sounds like a whisper but feels like a shout, the wind carrying the words from your lips to his ears as he turns around, hardly surprised to see you here.

Seokjin laughs when he sees you, this fond, wonderful smile as you stroll up beside him, where he’s sat with his legs crossed on the rooftop’s edge, looking out over the distant city, the waterfront. “Didn’t think you’d still be here,” he says.

“I could say the same for you,” you retort easily, setting down beside him. If you were any braver, you’d rest your head on his shoulder.

You’re not.

“You must know by now that I practically live here,” Seokjin jokes.

“Well, I’m starting to pay rent as well, so you better get used to it, don’t you think?” You tease back, looking out into the same city, illuminated by the same moon.

Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I thought that you were going to start taking it easy on yourself,” he reminds you pointedly, one of the lasting lessons you had learned from the day out on the town. The other being not to sit underneath Japanese maple trees.

“What can I say, I just love to work,” you say, and even though you try to make it sound like a joke both you and Seokjin know you’re not kidding. Work always has and always will be your biggest priority. Never have you lived in a world where anything else comes first. Never have you cultivated that sort of life for yourself.

“How’s your family?” He asks, a broad question with a loaded answer.

You don’t even feel yourself letting out a sigh until the groan leaves your lips, settling like dust. “The same as always,” you say, not even attempting to sound cheerful or happy about it. “They work me hard because they want me to succeed. And I want that, too.”

“But don't you ever want something more?” Seokjin asks, but it’s not the sort of question where he wants you to give him a yes or a no. It’s the sort of question where he already knows that you want to say yes, that there is a whisper deep inside of you that wants to have a life outside of your job, your workaholic family. But you can’t. Because your family is counting on you.

“I just can’t let them down,” you say instead, because you and Seokjin both already knew how you were going to respond anyway. “There’s so much that they expect of me. What kind of heiress—no, what kind of daughter am I if I don’t at least try?”

“It sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot,” Seokjin muses.

You force a chuckle. Obviously you have. Whenever you aren’t working, you’re thinking about what next you must do, what next is on your list. You’re thinking about how your family is counting on you to succeed. And how you want to do it for them. “I’ve had my moments.”

“Do a lot of people know how you feel?” He poses, looking at you curiously.

You shrug. “Not really. My parents, no. Jungkook, sort of. Hoseok, yes. And I suppose you, now, too.”

Seokjin cracks a small smile, this lopsided grin that makes you feel like you’re missing something. “So I guess they’re secrets, aren’t they?”

“Secrets?” You respond naively, an eyebrow raised in bewilderment.

“Secrets, huh?” He asks, sliding another inch closer, daringly so, teetering on the edge of territory that you haven’t touched in years. “I like the sound of that. Got any more for me?”

You smirk up at him, a grin playing on your lips. “Only if you have one for me in return. No freebies.”

He laughs, loud and clear, the sound ringing out in the nighttime air. “Alright,” he says, obliging. He leans in close, lips hovering above your ear. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

“Oh my God,” you say aloud, dumbfounded. “Oh my fucking God. It’s you?”

Seokjin laughs out loud at that, clapping his hands together at your positively shocked face, mouth agape like a fish out of water. He seems very amused by this, for some reason. A reason you can’t ascertain, mostly because you had no idea. “Honestly, I’m surprised you even figured it out from that. It took you forever to realize.”

You’re so scandalized you don’t even have the right words to respond. “What do you mean, ‘it took forever for me to realize’? Why didn’t you say something?” You demand.

Seokjin’s still fighting off the remnants of his laughter, hiccups escaping from his parted lips every few seconds. “Because it was obvious you didn’t recognize me at first! And I had no idea it was you until you showed up at the hotel that first day anyway. And I didn’t want to bring it up, because I was worried it would have made things weird.”

“Look at us now!” You cry, positively mortified. Seokjin knew it was you the moment you stepped through the sliding glass doors and you still hadn’t figured it out, not even after weeks of knowing him, of getting to spend time with him. “God, I just—I can’t believe this.”

“The funny part is how I knew you had no idea who I was and yet I fell for you anyway,” Seokjin says, but his words aren’t making you laugh whatsoever.

Your heart freezes in place as they sink in, etching themselves into your thoughts. “You—you what?”

“You befriended me without knowing that I was the man you kissed on the balcony that night, let me bring you coffee and confided in me and bought me the most expensive item of clothing that I currently own,” Seokjin says, a list of things that you loved him for all the same, “and I realized that it didn’t take that kiss to get me to fall for you. It took knowing you. Learning who you are. Who you want to be.”

You feel your heart getting lighter with every syllable that leaves his mouth, every breath that he takes.

The truth is that no man had ever made you feel the way that the mystery man did when you kissed that night. But no man had ever loved you the way that Seokjin did. Treated you the way that Seokjin did. The kiss was a spark.

The friendship was the fire.

“All this time you were right here,” you muse, looking at him. Here in the moonlight you finally understand why he looked so familiar, why the light hit his skin in all the right places, why the sound of his voice had always struck a chord within you. He glows silver in the moonlight and yellow from the halo above his head, he sits beneath the navy sky and lets the starlight decorate his irises, sparkles in a deep brown ocean. “All this time, and I had no idea.”

“I’m sort of glad you didn’t know,” Seokjin admins sheepishly. “We got to fall in love another way.”

Love?

Could it be?

You’ve never truly been in love. Not the way that your parents are, or the sneaky way you see Yoongi looking at Jungkook sometimes when he’s not looking. But if it feels anything like this, anything like electricity beneath your skin and embers inside your chest, then you think you might be on your way.

“You’re in love with me?” You ask.

“Kinda, yeah,” Seokjin admits crudely.

You feel your cheeks heating up, your heart bubbling within you. You lean in close, watching faintly as he does the same, eyes trained on your lips. “Do you have any other secrets for me?” You murmur, the words hot and heavy on your tongue.

He inches closer to you, lips hovering above your own, this soft, contented smile on his face as he gazes down at you, at the way that you are beginning to love him back, at the way that you already do.

“This.”

The words barely leave his lips before he’s pressing them against yours, and the moment you touch him you know, you know that it’s him, that it’s Seokjin, that he is the man that you have been waiting for. Immediately your body lights up, electric shocks tearing through your veins, blood set alight. He is so familiar, smells and tastes and feels so familiar, like you have known him for a thousand years and you’ll know him for a thousand more. You get the same sensation you had when you last kissed him, all those nights ago, your body going weak, your skin turning to flames, but there’s something else, too.

A burst in your chest. A puff of smoke in your heart.

A fireplace. A little room in your heart, just for the two of you. For you. For your love.

You think you could get used to this.

He pulls away after a few moments and immediately you feel dizzy, like his lips were the only thing keeping you stable, closing your eyes as you burn the feeling into your brain, memorize how his mouth presses against yours.

When you finally open them, there Seokjin sits, kiss-drunk and in love, this goofy, wonderful smile on his face.

“I’m still angry at you for not telling me. You could have saved us so much time,” you declare, not wanting the moment to last too long for fear that you’ll become obsessed.

Seokjin laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your nose. “Even if you forgot who I was tomorrow, I wouldn’t tell you,” he says, this stupid perfect grin on his face, this gorgeous, brilliant grin, “because I would happily fall in love with you all over again.”

God, he is so beautiful. A dream come true. A happy ever after.

The following morning your father saves you the trouble of having to awkwardly explain why you don’t feel comfortable continuing to oversee the resort hotel by letting you know that you’re welcome back in the central building in town and that he’ll have another executive replace you. Thank God, because that would have been one strange phone call.

Luckily, when your parents do eventually meet Seokjin, they are pleased to see that he’s been a loyal hotelier to your family’s conglomerate for several years now, and that he excels at his job. You also think that your mother’s just gotten softer over the years, wishing more for you to be happy than for you to be married to someone you hate.

It’s a good thing Seokjin’s charming. Otherwise, you have no idea what could have happened. But he’s here, and he’s with you, and your parents are happy and so are you. What more could you ask for?

“Your mom really didn’t have to throw this whole party just for me,” Seokjin whispers into your ear as the music plays on inside, this soft classical sound that Yoongi had composed not too long ago.

You turn around to look back in through the window, watching all of the guests waltzing along to the song. Jungkook’s in the back corner, behind the grand piano, and you can see him throwing winks Yoongi’s way every now and then. The sound of the party is barely audible from out here, in the stars’ silence, in the faint way the night whispers, this distant white noise.

“Throwing parties is her thing,” you explain helplessly. “Besides, you’re part of the family now, aren’t you?”

“Hey now, we aren’t married just yet,” he reminds you pointedly. “Unless you—?”

“Only after my father’s retirement next month,” you tell him for the umpteenth time. It’s not that you don’t want to be married. It’s that you don’t have time. You’re about to inherit an entire empire. You would prefer not to be juggling two major life events at once, if you can help it. “Besides, you don’t even have a ring.”

“How do you know that?” He asks innocently.

You smack him in the torso with your satin-gloved hand, shocked. “What?”

“I never said anything,” he teases, looking off to the side far too guiltily for your liking.

You place your hands on your hips and turn firmly to face him. “Kim Seokjin, do you want to marry me?” You demand.

Seokjin laughs, twirling you around before pressing a kiss to your lips, the two of you giggling. “Always!” He declares to the world. “I think about marrying you every day of my life.”

You grin. “Then we will. Then let’s get married. After my father’s retirement, of course.”

“Of course,” Seokjin agrees.

“What do you think the theme should be?” You ask, racking your brain for potential options. You like the idea of a rustic, cottage-y wedding. Or perhaps a more celestial one. Or maybe, if you wanted to go full circle, a masquerade.

Seokjin smiles. It’s clear he already has his answer.

“How about Cinderella?”

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damselofblueroses · 3 years

Text

The Children of Paradise

Summary: Set three years after the Rumbling, a young captain of Paradise Island, Anna Doukaina suddenly learned that her husband alive during the Paradisian Revolution.

Chapter Summary: After one month that Anna spent in the Doukaina's (Levi's Tea Shop) she was more than ready to explode. One day she decided to visit the Library and she had to face a couple of realities which she had no idea. This chapter contains a temporary health issue, if you can be negatively triggered by fainting, becoming numb or the loss of conscious please do not continue :)

Warnings: MANGA SPOILERS AND ESPECIALLY CHAPTER 139, Descriptions of Depression and Grief, Mentions of Death, Emotional Hurt. Progress of the fiction contains nsfw / Smut, minors please do not.

Note: The idea of Paradisian Revolution and the transformation of Historia Reiss are the offspring of my imagination, I would like to think about how would Levi’s aftermath of the Rumbling be in my head after I read chapter 139 :)

Word Count: 6.5k

Chapter Two: the Ouroboros

“Mrs. Ackerman?” I heard the voice of little kid, Sofia and turned to the source of voice. She was jumping to me by holding a bunch of daisies and dandelions. “Paul told me to give you these flowers.”

I kneeled down to blond girl who was always so lovely, her brown eyes were shining, and her checks were flushing with pink. I patted her head then gave her a piece of chocolate.

“Thank you very much, Sofia. When you and Paul visit me again?”

“We will come in the afternoon, Mrs. Ackerman.” she danced around me. “Gabi and Falco said that they will take us from school today and we can assist them in order to run the café.”

“You are a good girl, you know that.” I smiled. She could be my child. “But do you remember what I asked? Do not call me Mrs. Ackerman, I prefer to be called as Anna but if you want to call me with a surname, call me as Doukaina.”

“I cannot do that!” her eyes instantly became wider, stopped leaping around me like a cannibal. “We are told that we always have to call you by Mr. Ackerman’s name.”

“Who told you this?” I could feel my hands automatically turned into fists.

“Mr. Ackerman.” she was too naïve. “He is very serious, and also Paul strongly advises me to not cause Mr. Ackerman’s anger.”

“Yeah.” I murmured to little girl. “He is a short-tempered man. Anyway, Sofia, call me Anna whenever you will feel more relaxed, okey?”

Her face was telling me that she never would dare to go against Mr. Ackerman’s orders, but I did not say anything on the issue. Instead, I talked with her nonchalantly, made her more excited for the afternoon we were going to share then accompanied her till her house where was two apartments away from Doukaina’s.

Yes.

That bastard dared to name his fucking café after my name.

After leaving Sofia to her house, I came back to the café and tethering my teeth to the name. I was storming to the upstairs.

In the last one month, which I spent by refusing to talk with that motherfucker instead of expressing my thoughts on divorce and grunting a lot, I had a first-handed report on how much that bastard continued on his life without me.

I was in everywhere and nowhere.

The café had been under the Rules of Doukaina that Onyankopon had a civilized conversation with me after that bastard literally seized me in his home. He explained the rules while he was hoping that it would be a catalyser for me to calm down, nope, but I just listened to him without showing an expression. Basically, the rules included what I would like or not, and Captain Ackerman decided to run his own business by accepting my tastes as the standards.

His strategy works very well, Onyankopon shamelessly says.

What the heck I was, his strategy? His experimental rat?

I was fuming after that conversation, but I could manage to hold my anger and pain inside of me. Instead, I remained silent, ignored him when he came back to home, I refused to have dinner with him, I rejected every kind of proposes from him.

After Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco came to me.

Their visits were always hard because of two reasons.

Falco was a sweetheart; I could not refuse his kindness and Gabi had no idea on giving up even if when the occasion called for it. And trust me, my mental and emotional situations definitely called for silence, but Gabi did not get any signals. She told me a lot of stories on a vast range, starting from how horrible Mr. Ackerman was to how much he had been getting through.

Their visits always rip a brick off my invisible wall against him.

When I stayed by myself, and I generally chose to be alone, I realized the real reason of my presence here. It was the most painful part, I could not leave but it was not because of Levi had captured me against my will, I could not find the power of leaving him even though I have already refused even wishing a good day to him.

I cannot leave him, if I will set my foot on my way back to Paradise, I know that I cannot survive this time.

Everything I said, everything I had been doing did not mean a single thing. I was aware of my love to him, although I was broken into pieces because of him.

In this one month, every day I could see his face. Grumpy, unhappy, full of scars, deeply wounded, not like Captain Levi Ackerman who I knew in the past.

But, to my dismay I always loved Levi Ackerman, not the humanity’s strongest, not that legendary and reluctant hero.

I loved that fucking surly, petulant, grouchy, peeved, easily pissed off, clean freak, bossy, dominant and bad-mouthed Levi Ackerman who was always on my side. I loved that shorty who was reliable, extremely strong, capable of many things, careful, kind when the occasion calls for it and very clever.

He was my partner on the battlefield, my friend in the Headquarters, my lover in our tiny place.

Bearing witness of our separated 3 years did not help me to keep my anger against him, however, I had been trained by someone who was famous to hold grudges and has a small piece of forgiveness in the heart.

I was not only Levi’s but also Levi’s sculpture. He craved me with his heart and mind during the years of my training and beyond. Even our marriage bed was a training field.

Oh Jesus, when I remembered that night, a sudden flush attacked to my face, I could feel the heat on my cheeks.

I vividly remember Levi’s voice when he was praising me for being the best one for him although I was inexperienced till that night.

Can you stop remembering unnecessary memories?!

No.

I grunted to my useless brain and moved out of my tiny room. Levi gave me a room in his place when I refused to be in the same area with him. What a gentleman!

He knows you cannot afford a house, and he would kill someone instead of letting go to a hotel. He wants to keep you in front of his eyes, you were absent for a long time, Onyankopon said to me. He always believes he never see you again but all of a sudden you appeared.

If he wanted to keep me with him, why he did not come to fetch me after war, I asked to Onyankopon. He half smiled to me and told me this is a question to be asked to Levi himself. Only he could give me an answer, Onyankopon did not want to interfere our personal lives at this level.

Well, I guessed he interfered a lot but still I did not force him to tell me.

Levi’s flat was the second floor of his café, so I came down of the stairs in order to get fresh air. Levi was working behind Doukaina’s counter, he was dealing with bunch of customers whose I was getting familiar with some of them. When they saw me, they greeted me with their heads, I reciprocated by denying Levi’s strong presence. His eyes were piercing my back, I could feel it, but I refused to take a look back, I grab my coat and bag, then I stepped out of Doukaina’s.

He named his fucking café after me, how should I feel about this? Proud? No fucking way, every time I looked at this name, I lost my nuts.

He managed to be happy without me but living with my shadow. How could I forgive this?

I took a deep breath and started to walk on the street. My foot knew the way, the direction. I was heading to the library. To be honest, I was really so bored because of sitting on my back, it was not something I was familiar with. I had to keep myself busy, and I had to figure a way out in order to be back to Paradise.

With or without Levi.

After one month, observing him without talking, taught me that I could not be that cold-hearted bitch even if I desperately wanted to be. I could not tear him off his life, there was no possible option to try. He built a life for himself, Gabi and Falco, and Onyankopon.

How could I be so heartless taking them into our hell again?

They sacrificed a lot.

Sometimes I looked at Levi and I saw a middle-aged man who spent his life on battlefields, who lost everyone dear to him. His scars telling me how bad he hurt, sometimes he had been making a low-pitched grunt because of pain caused by his leg. He kept working on, but I could easily tell how much physical pain he was in. Falco secretly told me he was seeing a doctor, however there was no treatment to cure his wounded muscles.

And his eye.

I could not forget about his gleamy, metallic grey eyes and piercing look he could give with them. Now, he lost one of them, all the scars on his face, I bet my life on he felt like he was a beast.

Well, he was always a beast but a handsome beast.

Now, I could bet even my life on he felt like cannot be loved because he was no longer the humanity’s strongest, he was no longer Captain Levi Ackerman.

He was only Levi from Doukaina’s, the owner of a little tea shop, a semi-quasi father for a Marleyan kiddo gang.

How can you explain that to Armin? He believes you are trying to persuade Levi to comeback.

I have zero fucks to give the Revolution.

I was in a really darker mood when I reached to the library. The familiar scent of books got my senses immediately and eased my temper.

“Hello, Ms.” I heard the lady at the desk. “How can I help you?”

“Hello. I want to renew my membership to library.” I took my old card out of my purse. “Actually, I was a member, but it has been too long, so I do not know if I have to get a new card.”

“Let me see.” she reached to my membership card, and she gasped. “Miss Doukaina? Is that you?”

“Um, yeah?” I was confused because of her reaction. “Is that something wrong?”

“No!” she yelled and realized where we were and pressed her hand into her mouth. “I am sorry, but we have heard a lot about you. The headmaster will be extremely happy to see you again!”

“Is Angelo still here?” I proclaimed. “Really?”

“Yes, he did not retire yet.” she beamed. “Let me call him, or do you prefer to visit him by yourself?”

“I can go to his office.” I grinned like a Cheshire cat for this unexpected piece of news. “If you allow me, of course.”

“Be my guest.” she looked like I was a very good present and she definitely looked like she wanted to tell me something. I raised one of my eyebrows to push her, she could not hold it back anymore. “Forgive my boldness but I really admire your works!”

“Thank you.” I was surprised but I had to admit that I liked her boldness. I always liked to hear someone liked the works of my brain, it really meant a lot after killing titans and people like an endless string. I did not wish to be praised because of being a good fighter but hearing a praise because of being a good student or librarian was something else. “I am glad to hear that, I did not know they still have my work.”

“Your books are highly demanded both from colleges and individuals.” she smiled like a freak. I easily recognized the pattern of being a fan of someone, her face reminded me my face when I was trained by Levi. I know these shiny eyes, this excitement, this admiration. “I never think I could see you in person.”

“Maria,” another teenager appeared from the door behind of desk. “Headmaster calls for yo- Oh. I am sorry I did not see you Ms.”

“Fred,” she exhaled. “Do you know who is she? She is Miss Anna Doukaina!”

“What?” the young boy’s face went into blank he was literally frozen. “Who?”

“Anna Doukaina!” Maria repeated. “She came back!”

“A-An-,” Fred shuttered. “You must be kidding me; everyone knows she lives in Paradise!”

“Well, you are right.” I interrupted. “I am currently visiting Marley since there is no restriction on visiting people.”

“Yeah. You. Anna. Wow. Doukaina. You are right.” Fred’s eyes became widest, for a second, I thought he could manage to gauge them out only by looking at me. “Wow. Anna Doukaina is here.”

“What Fred means,” Maria stood up by giving her colleague criticizing look. “We do not expect to see you in Marley again after the speculations.”

“Speculations?” I cocked my eyebrow again. “What kind of speculations if I may ask?”

“Well, your husband lives in Marley without you, right? Both of you are famous names, he was a hero amongst people, you were named as a genius and people talks.” She at least managed to seem as embarrassed, but I could see the curiosity burned in her eyes. “You got your degree from Academia while your husband opened a café in the capital, but no one saw you guys together. Everyone believed that you guys divorced, after you went back to Paradise, most of us thought that you would not be back.”

“Holy shit.” I could not hold it. “I did not know we were a material for gossip.”

“You were topic number 1, actually.” Fred spilled the beans. “Especially when you refused to see Mr. Ackerman, a lot of husbands were condemning you.”

“What?”

“When you refused to see Mr. Ackerman,” Fred repeated himself like he was talking something quite natural. “A lo-

“Could you give me a moment, please?” I raised my hand.

“Are you okey?” Maria reached to me with a genuine worry.

“I am fine, thank you.” I replied but I could feel the panic attacks on the way, my breathing was becoming heavier, and my heart was pounding too fast. Bad combination.

“Fetch me a glass of water.” I heard another voice while the room is really starting to spin around me. “Quickly!”

A voice that was familiar to give orders.

A voice that was extremely grumpy but always managed to give me thrills.

The room was becoming darker, I knew that I was losing my sight and conscious for the first time in the last 5 years. Strong, muscled arms held me between their protection, before I fainted, I knew who was holding me.

Levi.

Levi Ackerman, an hour ago

“Oi, brat!” I looked at Falco, he was breathing too fast, and his face was totally red when he made an entrance to Doukaina’s. And his shoes are dirty, fucking hell. “What happened?”

“Mrs. Ackerman!” he yelled. “She is going to the library!”

“Shit.” I hissed between my teeth. Fucking woman. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Gabi saw her on the road. Does she know these people’s thoughts on her?”

“Of course not.” I untied my apron and throw it to Falco. “You are on charge, handle the rest.”

I did not waste a second, rushed to the road. I was definitely fuming, she did not know a single thing about the gossips on our not-so-well relationship, but for a while we were a quite popular topic for every living creature of Marley.

She does not know the curses of patriarchal system of Marleyan society about her, she does not know they label her as the cold-hearted bitch of Paradise.

She had been acting as a tough nut but there was a very fragile little girl inside of her heart, I knew it very well. If she were going to learn those gossips, she would be broken deeply. Even though, she has been ignoring me, I was aware of her true feelings, she did never want to be apart from me.

That’s why she could not forgive me, but she stayed with me.

I never want her to get caught up my mess, and I knew she would fight for me for her dear life, so I thought the only way was leave her to believe that I was dead. It would be better if she were not around me, but the only way to make it possible was building a barrier between us. There was no need for her to learn how many days I spent just missing her, just longing for her, hating myself so bad for letting her to go.

Yet, even with my rightful excuses and reasons, I deeply acknowledged the dire need of apologizing her over and over, begging for her forgiveness which I barely contained inside of myself.

Not seeing her around me was a hell of journey.

But seeing her around me was the worst scenario one could imagine, and I was being caught in really horrible situations since I was a boy in Underground.

She was my devoted girl, in terms of Hange’s very obvious language. She dedicated all of her to me with an incredible fidelity. When we were tying the bow, before the ceremony, before she vowed as my wedded wife, she was already the bone of my bone, the blood of my blood.

“Fucking hell.” I buzzed at my goddamn leg while I was walking to the library. It was making me slower, I hated being unable to do what I want as physically.

If I could have my body and strength as usual, the only thing I would do was taking her into my arms and having her over and over again like a fucking ouroboros.

I cursed behind my mouth and tried to walk faster. I had to catch that idiot before she was getting in touch with those poisonous vipers. However, I had to admit that what made me obnoxious more than I supposed to be not only those vipers, but also my unconscious contribution to that fucking cauldron of gossip. While I was keeping myself as invisible from her eyes when she was having an education here, I did not think of the things people could figure it out. They learned about Paradise, they learned about us, they talked about us, and everything was combined with each other.

In the end, she was labelled as an ungrateful bitch, and I was upgraded to faithful husband. I could not fix anything since I was bloody busy on hiding but hearing those comments about her fed me with pain.

She can be anything but being an ungrateful one? Do not make me laugh.

When I reached to destination, I quickly prayed for anything which could help me. I dearly hoped for she was not having any undesirable piece of information; I directly went into the entrance.

Godfuckingdamnit, she heard.

That was the first thing came to my mind when I saw her posture. Her shoulders were fallen down, her hands were shaking, and her face was nothing but full of agony. There were a couple around her, a boy and girl, they were trying to ask her if she was okey or not.

Do you think she is okey, you motherfuckers?

“Fetch me a glass of water!” I howled to them and attempted to catch Anna. “Quickly!”

Her body replied to my body immediately, fucking hell, her tensed muscled became a little bit softer when I grasped her between my arms. She was getting numb; her knees were twisting.

We had been here before.

Last time she fainted on me; we were butchering a bunch of titans.

I wonder if she carries the ODM scars still on her waist…

Is there anyone sees those little strings after me?

What the fuck I am thinking?

“Do not fucking dare to faint on me again.” I grunted but I held her as tight as I could dare of. She belongs to me, she is my bloody wife, damnit. “Keep calm and take deep breathes.”

“I am not going to faint.” she whispered, her voice was really weak, but I could hear her in every situation. Holy shit, I heard her voice when she fallen into a shitshow of titans and covered by her own blood during the clash of battlefield sounds!

We shared too many things.

“Yes, last time you said you were not going to faint, I had to carry you back to headquarters.”

“You were happy, weren’t you?” she mumbled. “I gave you the change of touching my body.”

“Hella, if I wanted to touch you, I would do before you found yourself between a titan sandwich.”

“Only in your dreams.” she said but her voice was getting weakest. I knew she was going to faint before the water, she closed her eyes, her hand dropped to the ground then the boy turned from the corner.

“Where did you get the water?” I yelled. “From Paradise?”

“I am sorry, Mr. Ackerman.” he shuttered. “There is a line in front of automatons.”

“Put that glass.” I turned to the girl. “I have only two questions to both of you. What did you say to her, and do you have something like cologne?”

“I have cologne!” the boy rushed to the back of counter desk. He left his colleague to my definitely dreadful gaze, what a companion, the girl started to slightly shake. I just looked at her by cocking my eyebrow.

“What did you say to her?”

“We did not sa-

“She fainted, let’s give up on acting and tell me what she learned from you enough to make her to lose her conscious. Before I am going to get angry.”

“She told her about the gossips.” I heard the boy’s little squeaks. “She left you, didn’t she?”

“As I thought.” I mumbled and stood up by carrying Anna’s body. “How much you told her? Tell me the whole story.”

“I swear I just talked about the speculations!” the girl angrily looked at the boy. “He told about Mrs. Ackerman’s refusal to see and its impacts on communi-

“How much you said?” I walked into the bench. “How much?”

“Just refusal!” he really screamed; his face was completely whitened. “I did not tell anything about her nickname, cold-hearted bitch!”

“If you will use that nickname again, you will not have a tongue to speak again.” I pressed on every letter of the sentence. “Tell this to everyone you know, if I hear a single word against my wife, you can be sure of I am capable of slicing living creatures like you can slice a bread.”

“O-okey!”

“Now, hold the door for us.” I turned to the main doors and walked out of the building by carrying Anna.

Carrying Anna?

What?

Anna Doukaina, after 4 hours

I woke up with a terrible headache.

Let me rephrase. I woke up because of a terrible headache.

“Here.” I heard a grumpy voice and a hand without two fingers came into my sight. “Swallow.”

I tried to move but his hand pressed me on the soft layer, a bed I guess, again.

“Feel free to lie down there. You have to rest according to the orders of doctor, so no sudden movements but you will spend a day here.”

Why a doctor came to see me?

My mind was foggy, slow to recall the last memories I had, however while I was having the pills that Levi gave me, I remembered the very last moments before I lost my conscious.

I was fainted.

Okey.

I was fainted on Levi.

Damnit.

I was fainted on Levi after I asked him if he was happy with me or not.

Godfuckingdamnit.

My mind corporate with me in the worst way I could imagine of. Those words of two receptionist, labelling me as an ungrateful wife, careless woman who did not consider her beloved one reminded me everything.

“I cannot open my eyes.” I lied to him. I know Levi is here and I am sure he did not leave me for a second, he waited me to open my eyes. I do not want to see him. “But I am pretty well, so you can go back to work.”

“I do not want to.” he plainly answered. “I will stay, and I know you can open your eyes if you want. But I respect your decision to keep them closed. I am not someone who is worth to look.”

“What?” I fell on his bloody trap and immediately looked at him.

“Oi.” he smirked. Smirk? “It is good to see you are awake.”

“How many minutes I was unconscious?” I asked but I could feel all the heat of embarrassment as I hopelessly tried to change the subject. This is why I hate being with Levi, I become a stupid, lovesick girl!

“Almost 4 hours passed after you fainted on me.” he seemed nonchalant as he informed me; my chin was dropped. 4 hours?! “I have to say, I am impressed. The last time you were fainted for almost half an hour.”

“It was not the last time.” I could not catch what I said, then I pressed my hand onto my mouth, but it was fucking too late. Levi’s eyebrows furrowed and he gazed at me while he was trying to figure what I meant.

“I will not force you to tell me,” he murmured, and he took my hand off my mouth. You are damn close, Ackerman! “But I really appreciate if you can share when you were fainted after that incident.”

“When I heard about the explosion.” I replied. I was too tired of being hiding from Levi. “I thought you were dead.”

Levi did not answer to me, instead of words, he was using his goddamn eyes. I always believed his eyes could see my heart and soul, even the deeps that I did not know anything about.

“Were you,” he cleared his throat after looking at me for a while. “Upset?”

“Ha?” I inhaled while my mind just left the building. “I thought you were dead; I was not upset. I wanted to die but I had to wait for you to be back to me. What would happen if you appeared in our home and could not find me? That was the only thought kept me alive.”

“How much you heard about explosion?” his voice was cracked. Full of fear. Anxiety.

“I knew that monkey exploded himself. No one told me in detail, no fucking one tell me that you are alive. I guess, they think I am nothing to you even though I carry your name.”

“I wanted them to shut their mouth about me.” Levi was a sweet talker as always. “I did not want my situation keeping you back from living your life as fully.”

“And what does it mean?” I managed to lift my upper body by gaining strength from my elbows. “Do you know how many days I spent mourning for you? Do you know how it was, believing that you were dead because of a monkey, because of Commander Smith, because of our goddamn world’s cruelty? An I had to continue on that way until the end!”

I could not control myself anymore, it was too much, overwhelming and suffocating. I just wanted to scream everything I have been holding inside out off my chest. I was definitely not in my best physical condition, and I really preferred to have this conversation in a situation which I would be at my best self-confidence time, but no. It was too late for that.

“Do you know how much I cried? Have you ever thought about me even for little while you are exactly aware of my devotion to you? How could you decide leaving me behind, in a total darkness by yourself? Not because once I was your wife, I was your comrade and you left me with the feelings like how you felt after Commander Erwin passed out.”

“Look at me!” he literally grunted towards me. “I am not the guy you have been knowing in the past anymore, I cannot give anything to you, unless you are fine with a small tea shop where is full of tea leaves, two Marleyan kids and a retired soldier’s company. And me, as wrecked, wounded to death, like a scumbag. How could I comeback to home like nothing happened to me, and face with you when you just having a change of living a normal life after war?”

This was the longest speech Levi gave to me till now, and we had almost half of our lives together.

“Do you think I could take you out of my mind even for a bloody second after I woke up in a fucking, dirty and cold barn? You were the last thought of me when that motherfucker exploded my cart, you were fucking crying and lamenting for me, you lost your smile, I knew that you could not overcome my death although the promises we gave to each other, I cold-heartly killed my subordinates before the explosion after they became fucking titans, but I cannot deal with the idea of you being dead. You are the only one I cannot sacrifice of. Do not act like you were alone in pain, I carried that burden, you have no idea how much I missed you, you were carved into my eyelids, I did not spend a fucking minute as not dreaming of you.”

“You should have let me know.” I gritted my teeth. To be honest, I was impressed by his honesty. Levi was always honest; however, he had never been vocal about his own feelings, I knew for once he loved me, but I had never ever heard those three words, eight letters. “There is nothing left to be said by you, you cannot find an excuse for your choice.”

“I do not try to find an excuse.” Levi said. “I explained how I felt to you until you appeared in front of my door, for a long time I strongly believed that you were a ghost.”

“What do you expect?” I hissed at him. “Do you think I can easily forget your misbehaviour? I know you like knowing the back of my hand, you always choose the way that makes you less regretful and you chose to leave me behind.”

“I did.” he inhaled. “And that was the best choice to make. I could not drag you into my shit.”

“How could you do that?” I asked but all my anger left me. I suddenly started to feel like I was empty, there was nothing but pain. “How could you, Levi? I was your wife.”

“You are my wife.” he grabbed my hand. Did he really believe that he could change our hiatus? My emotions were remained untouched, maybe he could be right on his mindset, maybe he really thought about me and tried his best in order to keep me out of his personal hell, however it did not help me to overcome all the sleepless nights I had. I pulled my hand back out of his fingers. I was searching for this hand during the long nights he caused, and there was no guarantee he would not leave me again. If he would decide on leaving me behind was the best thing to do, he would do it immediately. He would not ask my opinion, he would leave me alone with only my thoughts, my memories of him and he would let me to eat myself alive. I could almost taste the bitterness on my tongue, I could not let his poor reprimands to break my walls while my wavering feelings of abandonment conquered me.

Rain hitting the windowpane above, not a playful and soft type of rain. That was cruel rain that beating the life out of city. Suitable for us.

“You are my wife, Anna.” he repeated himself. “Should I remind it to you, goddamn, I can happily do it.”

His face transformed into something I have ever seen in his features. His Aegean eyes turned into a stormy sea in a second, burning with unnamed desires which I was also feeling in the deeps of my heart. Determination conquered his fucking handsome face, and there was fear. Self-hatred. Regret. But much to my dismay, there was a dire need of teaching me a lesson that set his soul on fire.

I have been knowing this face of Levi. I have been there before.

I knew when he got me and he knew he did.

In a blink of an eye, before I could take any position to defend myself, he grabbed my wrists and pulled me to his arms. He was fucking strong for a man who lost his strength! I quickly realized the potential danger I was in. If he would touch me, I knew that my heart did not spend even a second to betray my mind. That would be the nail in my coffin.

Even though the haziness of my mind slowed my reactions, I covered my face with my hands.

“Do not fucking dare.” I dropped my voice tone as I was informed on, I looked more intimating when I threat someone with lower tone. I did not tone down my wording, there was no place to be gentler with words, I was going to use my curses and I had quite a vocabulary. “If you lay even a finger on me, that’s going to be only way makes you regretful.”

“Maybe.” he did not try to take my hands off my face, and he literally locked me in his embrace. “I assume so.”

“If you do,” I struggled to get rid of his arms around me. “Why don’t you use your brain and let me go? For a better life?”

“So smart.” he huffed once in laughter. What the fuck? The tension of the room changed into something I really did not want even to think of naming it. “I do not have intention to let you go. Never again, brat.”

“Levi, I swear on everything you can believe, if you do not le-

“What will you do?” he interrupted me. “According to you, I already fucked the things up and you told me you will never give me your forgiveness. What makes a difference between not being forgiven for a sin or for two sins?”

“This is the shittiest logic I have ever heard, and I was in Military Police for a while.” I forgot to press my hands onto my face due to his unexpected, unpleasant, and twisted thought about forgiveness. “I do not know where you learned about sins, asking for forgiveness or literally remission, but I think you lost couple of important points.”

What I missed was while I was lecturing him on forgiveness, I let my hands down and I had been sitting on Levi Ackerman’s thighs.

More importantly, he was definitely not the type of man who miss a chance to perform what he aimed for.

He caught my hands immediately and he pressed his lips into mine.

When I felt his velvety lips on my mouth after fucking years, that sensation made me numb in a nanosecond. My logic just left the room, left me with my dire need for Levi. His hands. His lips. His love. Everything about him, I just need Levi, Godfuckingdamnit he always affected me like anaesthesia.

He kissed me and it made me felt like I was breathing again.

I could feel he loosened his tight grip around my wrists by the fact that I was definitely not fighting with him, on the contrary, I was responding to him in the way he wanted. I knew that I was going to be extremely ashamed of what the heck I was doing right now, but even the sorrowness eating me every day refused taking the control of my body back, I felt like my flesh gained an independent character who was begging to my soul for keeping the things as they were happening right now.

Levi was kissing me. His goddamn lips made me feel like I was alive.

The Ouroboros that living inside of me started to comeback into life. With every move Levi made, I could feel Ouroboros biting itself inside of me by releasing the poison.

“No.” I broke the kiss and pressed my hands to his shoulders in order to keep him away from me. He was heavily breathing, his beautiful face became pinkish while his lips shading with darker red, and his eyes, goddamn, his eyes were burning with passion.

He looked like a god, and I hated him for his level of good-looking to my bits.

I was burning too but my fire was caused by different reasons except one, the reciprocated hunger for each other was remained same between Levi and me, to my dismay I strongly felt it. However, the anger was growing in me was for both of us. To him, for his fucking departure and leaving me by myself and his shitty excuses, building a life without me, living a life in the shadows, and running away from me. The list never ends. To myself, for loving him as much as the first day I realized how much I devoted my heart to him and never manage to overcome my love for him even though I had to.

“I love you.” he said. “You fucking know, I spent my life by loving you, brat.”

Maybe there was an earthquake.

Maybe there were bombs exploding all over Marley or Paradise.

Maybe there was a chain of natural disasters which happening right now.

But I could not understand even if I would be brutally killed in this very moment.

He finally said that he loved me.

“If you say no, I will not do anything.” he murmured. “Just tell me.”

I stared at him, how could he be a total moron and did not see how I was amazed by his long-awaited confession? Inside of me, I was screaming, swearing, crying, laughing, and cursing at full speed but I was frozen in reality.

Let me introduce Levi Ackerman to you.

A blockhead, humanity’s strongest and my Ouroboros literally and figuratively eating me alive.

My Levi.

“May I continue to kiss you?”

#levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fic #levi #levi ackerman headcanons #levi fluff #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi heichou #aot fanfiction #levi aot #snk #levi attack on titan #attack on titan levi #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #levi ackerman oneshot #shingeki no kyojin

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lifeofroos · 3 years

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Part 11. Still Hades. Shoutout to this background music generator.

In short: Nico gets therapy from Dionysus. The rest is here.

This might be crazy - part 11: Sweet Iced Tea

I wasn’t going to sleep tonight, I could feel it. Instead, I got up, grabbed a juice box from my closet and shadow travelled out of my cabin, to the Big House. A few minutes later, I was at Denny’s with Dionysus.

‘I thought it would be a good idea to make use of this time instead of just laying in my bed and thinking about tomorrow.’

‘Yeah, sure, but there is a tomorrow for me as well. A tomorrow in a very busy camp filled with teenagers.’

‘I mean, we don’t have to…’

‘Yes, we do. You want to talk right now, and there are important things for you to talk about.’

‘Hades.’

‘Yes, Hades.’

‘Can I just begin?’

‘If you feel like you know what to talk about, you can begin.’

‘Than I will not hold you up,’ Mary, our regular server, piped in. She put down a sweet tea, winked and dashed back to the counter. I looked at my sweet tea and took a breather. Alright. I got this. ‘So, last time… last time we got to the point where I actually had to live with my dad. And how he… was not the nicest to me.’

‘Yes. We talked about that.’

‘Yes. I also told you he… told me he had wanted Bianca to survive, rather than me.’ So. That. ‘But… I do not think he fully meant it. I think he was grieving, or disappointed because he thought his plan to let his children save the day could not go through. He…’ I bit my lip. ‘He… he definitely wanted that last thing. He even locked Percy Jackson into a dungeon in his palace, because he wanted me to get up and do what Percy was slated to do. That…’

‘Telling you that he would rather have Bianca survive than you is unacceptable, no matter what he was feeling or what his intentions were. I already said that last time. Even if he did want one of his kids to succeed so that they would be respected, he could have done that by actually training you instead of releasing you from the Lotus hotel when he thought your time was ripe to be useful. And locking Percy Jackson in a dungeon, no matter how attractive, is also a terrible way of solving things.’

I thought about that. ‘Yes. But, at some point during those months I was there, he seemed to… comply with the fact that I was what he had. He, and Persephone…’ Oh, man, Persephone. Help me gods. ‘And… and Demeter, she was also there… at some point, they decided to listen to me and helped with defeating the army attacking Olympus while the other gods were off fighting Typhon. That.’ I looked at the table. ‘I mean to say that he began to listen to me. After the war, I got my own cabin in camp Half-blood and the other campers began to accept me, but I was still not in camp very often. Some of the time, I was in camp Jupiter and sometimes in the Underworld. The contact with my father… became less as when I lived in the Underworld for an entire year, of course, but we kept it up. Now, I am in camp half-blood more often, but I still go to the Underworld now and then. Sometimes it goes well, sometimes not. He… Hades… he gave me a French taxi-driver. He is dead. The taxi driver. I… don’t know if that means anything.’

‘He did not coach you more? About your powers, or just as a father?’

‘No. I think he is trying to be a better dad now, but he is not really sure how to do that. But…’ I shrugged and took a long sip of iced tea. Dionysus took a moment to think about what had been said. ‘Do you want to forgive him for how he treated you?’

‘I don’t know.’ I have been defending him and I would actually like a relationship with my father, but...

‘Nico, whether you forgive him or not is completely up to you. I won’t tell you how I feel about the situation. As long as he does not hurt you anymore and if you really think he changed his ways, or at least tries to do so… it’s up to you.’

Hm. This was one of those moments where it would have been easy if he had done all of that thinking for me. Alas, I nodded. ‘I’ll have to think about that some more.’

‘Take all the time you need. It is not something you need to rush to a conclusion for.’

‘No. Until that time, I… I just mentioned Persephone. I want to say something about her as well, now that I am talking anyway.’

Dionysus nodded. ‘That’s okay if you want to.’

I swallowed. The talking was more difficult this time than it had been last time, even if what we were saying had mostly been said before. ‘I don’t know when Persephone learned that we existed, but when she did, she ignored me until I was moved into the palace and she simply could not do that anymore. Which, can I give her credit for that?’ It seemed weird, giving someone credit for ignoring me. But it was better than being hunted down.

‘I wish I could say you could not.’

I showed him a small smile. ‘Well, I am. While I was living in the Underworld… she still ignored me. From the few words she did say to me, I could make up that she did not like me, but she accepted that I was in the palace. She was not going to punish me for what my father did. That, or she was afraid that he would get angry if she tried to touch me.’ I looked at my cup.

‘I could not tell you which one of those is true, but I can tell you that Persephone was never a harsh stepmother,’ Dionysus filled in.

‘Hm. In the time after the titan war, she did once get fed up with my presence in the Underworld, so she changed me into a dandelion.’ He was trying not to laugh. I was telling about my trauma and he was trying not to laugh. ‘Hades found out quite soon and ordered her to change me back. Afterwards, she did give me the pomegranate seeds that saved my life while I was in the jar that the twin giants put me in. I think they were meant as a make up gift, and at first I thought it was worthless, but boy.’ A few loud-talking people passed the restaurant. I looked over my shoulder until they were gone. ‘So, it might seem like Hades and Persephone are kind of… they both try. Hades to sort-of be a good parental figure and Persephone to accept me, or at least not make my life more difficult. But both…’

‘It is the same thing as I said before. They are both trying now, and it is up to you if you accept that or if you find that it is too little, too late. But it does not erase the fact that they hurt you in some way. In order to really work through that, you’ll have to talk to them as well.’

‘... Alright. But…’

My sentence was cut off by a herd of drunken twenty-somethings hurdling into the Denny’s. I turned around so I could take a look. A few of them were laughing, one was crying and what seemed to be the least drunk guy of the bunch winked at Mary. ‘A stack of three waffles for each of the boys, please.’ Mary sighed. ‘Coming right up. What kind of toppings do you want?’

‘Nothing but you, darling.’ He winked again and I cringed. That almost physically hurt.

Mary was completely unfazed by it. ‘Alright, that will be six plain waffles. Do you want anything to drink with that?’

‘Nothing but your…’

‘Alright, alright, I know you can go on for the entire night, but that is more, more than enough.’ Dionysus stood up and walked towards the herd of drunken men. The ‘leader’ looked at him from head to toe. ‘And who do you think…’

‘Actually your lord and savior, seeing how you are drunk in a Denny’s at the moment, but I really wish I wasn’t.’

‘My… what?’ The guy was just drunk enough to get confused by that statement, it seemed.

‘I’ll give you this.’ Dionysus tapped the guy on his forehead. His pupils grew creepily wide. ‘You go to the door. You’ll just wait outside, aghast, until your friends have finished their waffles. Then, you will never be able to find this place again. Your pals will know about the restaurant, but you won’t. You’ll never know what they are talking about and it might make your mind break in the future - who knows!.’ He twirled the guy around and pushed him in the back, towards the door. ‘Now leave.’ The guy left without a look around.

Mary arched her brow. ‘I assume that is just five stacks of waffles, then.’ Dionysus smiled at her. She rolled her eyes and disappeared to make the waffles. I picked up my iced tea, stood up and walked over to Dionysus. ‘That… I mean…’

‘There are loads of people who make the party scene unsafe for the other party-goers. It is quite literally my job to root those people out. They, again quite literally, ruin my health.’

‘Right.’ I drank my sweet tea until there was no more. ‘Is the session over?’

He nodded. ‘Just one more thing: Do you want to talk to Hades?’

‘I’ll have to think about that.’ I put my cup on the counter. ‘But I might.’

‘If you decide that you want to, I’ll make sure you have extra free time.’

‘Does Chiron agree to it, then?’

‘Chiron finds it just as important as I and your sunny boyfriend do that you get proper help.’ He gave me a reassuring smile. I nodded, after which I yawned. ‘Alright.’

‘Good, then we can go back. But first…’ he pointed at the waffle makers. The next moment, five plates with plain waffles were standing on the counter.

Mary came walking back, with her eyebrows raised. ‘That’s special.’ She looked at Dionysus. ‘Well, thanks.’ In reaction, he put a fifty dollar bill on the counter.

‘No, you thanks. For letting us sit here, for serving us and for putting up with scum like that.’ Mary looked at the money. Then she smiled the warmest smile I had seen from her yet. ‘I am really, truly glad to be doing it.’ She waved us goodbye, while Dionysus transported us back to camp.

A/N: next chapter, he won’t be talking about, but with Hades. Thanks to Rickandrowling28 for that idea! I also hope I did not skip anything that happened between Hades and Nico. Fandom wiki had been a real help, but it does not erase the fact that it is at least three years ago that I read the books (I got the first one from a friend on my fourteenth birthday and binge read the rest in three weeks or so after that).

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dear-felony · 3 years

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i’m gonna put my notes for you here, just in case i’m not here when you are. i’m so sorry i only was able to do them for the first three weeks. ilysm, i’m gonna miss you with everything. @lovely-demon-loved-by-knight

~~~

I realized that you wouldn’t have hugs from me while you’re gone. So I’m gonna leave some hugs right here and whenever you need one, you just use it then, okay?

>> *wraps u in a soft blanket and sits down next to you. puts both my arms around you and holds you close for as long as you need*

>> *holds u very tight to me n rubs your back*

>> *soft, long and safe hug*

5/25

Dear Felony,

I know today is probably so hard for you. I don’t want to add to your anxiety or your pain about leaving, so I’m just gonna make you a little calm place instead. Imagine we’re sitting together on a picnic blanket in the grass under a big tree. The picnic blanket is light blue and soft, and we’re both cross legged and leaning against each other. I’m laying out lemonade and cucumber cream cheese sandwiches I made before you woke up. (You slept in today, because there was no need to get up, and the sounds of me in the kitchen and the birds in the trees kept you so calm.) You’re telling me a story and I’m giggling. A squirrel runs past us. Everything is calm and safe. You’ve got this, Covi. I love you so much.

5/26

Dear Covi,

Since this is a road trip, I’m guessing you’ll be in a car at some point today. If you are, would you do me a favour and look out at the trees as they pass? Looking out of car windows is so universal. You’re looking at the trees and ground rushing past there, and however many miles away, I will too. We’re together in that moment. And since I’m with you, know that I’m squeezing your hand and telling you I’m proud of you.

5/27

Dear Covi,

Today I’m gonna tell you some of my favourite colours. Maybe when you get back, you can tell me yours. Or you can write them down somewhere now and send them when you get wifi. I’d like to hear them. My collection of colours: passion tea, the sunset, sunlight shining through leaves, the farthest water away from the shore, wet moss, male mallard ducks’ feathers, theatre popcorn, fox fur, honey, brick, and rose quartz. I hope you’re doing okay my Felony, and I hope you find a new colour for your own collection today.

5/28

Dear Felony,

Today I’m gonna tell you about a stuffed animal. I have a buffalo named Bull-Bull from when I was very little. (I couldn’t figure out if he was a buffalo or a bull so I called him a buffalo and named him Bull-Bull.) I remember the first time I went to the orthodontist I had him with me, and I was crying cuz I had to get an appliance and tonsil surgery and I was scared, and my orthodontist told me I could get a special case for my appliance with a buffalo on it. I never did get it, but at the time it helped calm me down. I like telling you stories. I wanna tell you all the stories of me. The little memories that maybe don’t matter but maybe do, you know? And I want to hear all of yours.

5/29

Dear Covi,

I think I will draw you lots of pictures while you are gone. Then when you get back you will have them all. Or maybe I’ll make another sideblog and post them on there each day, so I can feel closer to you. Maybe you can draw a picture for me if you want to, just to remind you that you’ll get back to me, and everything’s okay. I’m very very proud of you, Covi. I love you so much. You’ve got this.

5/30

Dear Felony,

At the dollar store near my house you can get a big bag of theatre popcorn. I really want to get that and maybe apple slices and cheese and just have a movie night with you. Or maybe you could show me Julie and the Phantoms. I would love to watch it with you. Not only am I sure I’ll love it, I’d adore just seeing you happy and being able to lean into when I want. It just sounds very soft. When you get back, if you’re still into JATP, I am definitely going to watch it. It’ll be summer, so I’ll be able to. I love you.

5/31

Dear Felony,

I hope you see a dandelion today. I don’t know if it’ll be the season for them yet, but if it’s one of the fluffy ones that’s even better. I used to hate dandelions, but it’s tiring hating things. They’re bright and pretty and I like them. I hope you see one. It will be my little forehead kiss for you.

6/1

Dear Felony,

You’ve made it through the first week!! I’m so proud of you. You can make it through the rest. I’ll give you some things to help you keep going: my soft blue blanket you can wrap around your shoulders, an aero chocolate bar (my favourite), a woven bracelet that I made you with the help of a ton of youtube tutorials, and a few of my favourite gel pens to colour with. I’m sorry they can only be imaginary, but I hope they help a little anyway.

6/2

Dear Covi,

Today I am going to give you some song lyrics. I am pretty sure I have sent you this song before, but it’s important to me you hear them now.

/ Sweetheart, you look a little tired

When did you last eat?

Come in and make yourself right at home

Stay as long as you need

Tell me, is something wrong?

If something's wrong, you can count on me

You know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat \

6/3

Dear Covi,

I’m going to be honest, I’m really sad as I’m writing this. I’m thinking of how hard it’s going to be without you. I’ve tried to make these positive as much as I can, because I know you don’t deserve more worry. But it’s hard. Just know that if you miss me, I am over here missing you too. But as long as you get through, so will I. I love you so much.

6/4

Dear Felony,

It’s really late here. I wonder what time it is where you are, whether you’re cuddled in a hotel bed or in the back of your car or sneaking peeks at your phone during a long walk. I hope wherever you are I can bring you some comfort. Just imagine me under a blanket in the middle of the night, blinking away sleepiness so I can write to you. The light is on outside my door and it’s shining through the pride flag, which is pretty cool. I bet it’d make you happy. I hope you’ve seen lots of things that made you happy this trip. I want to hear all of them when you get back.

6/5

Dear Covi,

I’m proud of you, you know that? I hope you know that. I’m so, so proud of you. You have dealt with a lot, you are dealing with a lot, and you somehow still light up the world. You really do. And you don’t have to always be in touch, or always be ready to help people, to light up the world. Your existence is enough, your perseverance is enough. You deserve to take care of yourself, and to be taken care of. I’m so proud of you.

6/6

Dear Covi,

I have this really big amethyst and sometimes tiny pieces of it will break off on the edges. I save the pieces in this small box I have and they mean a lot to me. I wish I could put them in a locket and give them to you. So whenever I was holding my amethyst I knew wherever you are you’d have part of it right there too.

6/7

Dear Felony,

I wanna walk in the rain with you. I wanna run through it shielding each other with our hoodies and laughing, or walk slowly under an umbrella together watching the little streams that gather on the sides of the road. I wanna twirl you around in the soaking wet grass and then make hot chocolate with you to warm up when we get inside. I just think that’d be nice.

6/8

Dear Felony,

Two weeks!! I don’t know how you’re doing right now. I really really hope it’s alright. I’m proud of you for this, I know it’s hard. You’ve got this, I love you so much, and you know I’m thinking of you.

6/9

Dear Felony,

I wanna build a little cottage in minecraft with you and have a bunch of dogs and sheep and cats and parrots and a lil cute farm and a windmill because it’d be adorable. And I would go collect a bunch of flowers for you because I can. Ily :>

6/10

Dear Covi,

I have a little rainbow pin and it is very very cute. This is important for you to know. I wish I could get you a little one to match it.

6/11

Dear Covi,

Your daily I love you, m’person *tips hat* you are wonderful and perfect and amazing and I love you. Thank you for lighting up my world every day, even when you’re not here.

6/12

Dear Felony,

I wish you could play with my hair. That’d be… so soft. I would even let you braid it if you wanted to, even though I don’t usually let anyone braid my hair. But I just trust you. So much. And I know I’d feel so safe.

6/13

Dear Felony,

I want to memorize your handwriting. I want to read enough little notes from you that I could recognize each letter anywhere. And I want you to be able to know mine. If I could write you little notes in paper airplanes and send them to fly to your lap I’d run out of origami paper in a week.

6/14

Dear Covi,

I want to bring you little gifts every day. Like a little rock I found or a flower for you to tuck behind your ear or a little origami animal or your favourite candy that I walked to get from the store. I just love you so much and I want to show it.

6/15

Dear Felony,

You’ve made it through three weeks! I’m so frikin proud of you. You can make it through the rest, okay? And soon you’ll be back, and I will require many many long cuddles after your absence.

I’m so sorry that I didn’t have time to write a note for every day you’re gone. I hope these at least help a little, and that you can reread them if you need me. I’ll miss you so, so much. I love you with all of my heart, my knight, always.

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gwaciechang · 4 years

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Ungodly Hour (3/5)

Slightly delayed because I wanted to wait until Joey wasn’t online anymore to post this, for obvious reasons.

Trigger warning for poorly-negotiated kink, human furniture, and consensual noncon, which I’ve never done and hopefully it doesn’t show. For once, I will accept content criticism if you want to advise me on how to write a scene. It should go without saying that this chapter is Explicit. Read below the cut, or here on AO3. Grammar and stylistic criticism gratefully accepted, content criticism regarding anything other than what was requested is not. Enjoy!

“Here we are,” Callum gestures to a turquoise door covered in stickers from heavy metal bands. “You’re not going to get in trouble for not going to your hotel, are you?” he asks as he takes out his keys.

“My company’s paying for my entire three-day hotel stay, so the only thing I’d be missing is a dry, flavorless breakfast,” you answer. “I’m sure yours will be much tastier.”

“That was a terrible come on,” he informs you frankly.

“Yeah, I know,” you laugh, because his considerable bulge has not subsided, and you wonder how strong his knife kink is if your corny lines can’t break it.

Very strong, it turns out, because the second the door is locked behind you, he kneels and bares his neck. “Put the knife right here,” he points to his Adam’s apple. “I want to feel it when I swallow.”

You thumb your knife open and press the dull end it against where he pointed. He exhales heavily and closes his eyes, but there’s still a line of tension running down his shoulders.

“If you’re going to be kneeling, you’ll need a pillow, because I don’t plan on letting you up for a very long time,” you say in a low tone you hope sounds threatening. “Get up.” You accompany this order by putting the very tip of the knife against his chin, just enough to see it dimple.

When Callum is standing again, you return the knife to his neck and look around the room for something with a cushion. Unfortunately, all his chairs are wooden, and there’s two plastic white lawn chairs on the balcony. The only thing left is the threadbare couch in front of, oh my god, that television has to be older than you are.

“Come with me,” you hold his gaze while you walk backward toward the couch. “Take the cushion and drop it on the floor,” you hate that you’re looking up at him when you give the order. But you’ll rectify that soon enough.

He obeys you without breaking eye contact. His knees buckle like he’s about to drop straight onto the cushion, but you press the knife just a little bit tighter against his skin. “Did I tell you to kneel?”

“No, boss,” his throat bobs in a swallow, and his eyes flutter at the sensation. Then his eyes fly open and he goes entirely still, like he’s afraid of what’ll happen if he moves even a little. You feel bigger than him despite the height disparity, a sensation you’re starting to enjoy, so you let him hold his breath for a few more seconds.

“Kneel now,” you say finally, lowering the knife just a bit.

He kneels slowly, going at your pace, and keeping his eyes on yours the whole time so you can see them get all soft and adoring when his knees hit the cushion. You almost kneel in front of him too, but at the last second you manage to correct yourself and sit down on the couch instead.

“What do y-tell me what you want to do.”

“Just this,” his voice is hoarse, like he’s asleep. “Just give me orders.”

Well, that won’t be difficult. At this angle, the buttercup on his nose glitters when he breathes and his nose flares just a little.

“Do you have piercings anywhere else?”

He opens his mouth obediently, and you don’t know how you missed the little ball on his tongue. You’re so busy thinking about how fun it’ll be to lick it that you don’t notice he’s having trouble removing his shirt until he starts making distressed noises.

“Arms up,” you bark, and you lift the shirt over his head. He has little dandelion charms through his nipples, which you drop the shirt to play with. This close, you can feel when his shallow, hitched breaths turn into a hiss. You look down, and he’s trying to undo his jeans with shaking hands.

“I said arms up,” you remind him. Immediately, he raises his arms in the air and freezes. You cup his groin and give a squeeze to see what he would do, which was apparently sound like you just punched him in the stomach. But his arms stayed up, and besides his rapid breathing, he didn’t move anything else. “Good job, Callum,” you whisper in his ear. Goosebumps dot his skin, but he doesn’t shiver. “I think you deserve a reward, hmm?” You take off his pants, and Callum Jr. is standing at full attention with a-

Holy shit. You have to force yourself to stop staring the little bead on the reverse Prince Albert, glimmering in the light. It would probably feel better than it looks, anyway.

“Play with the little dandelions, darling,” you press the knife against his neck even harder, enough for even the dull side of the blade to leave a red mark, “or else.” Callum’s mouth falls open, and you take advantage to lick the ball on his tongue. You run one finger down his side, until your hand is right next to that beautiful piercing, and he’s shivering with anticipation. So you reach up and stroke his hair instead. He sobs into your mouth and you can feel his tears trickling down your cheek.

“I know you want more, but you’re going to have to earn it,” you say, drawing back. “Tell me what your favorite food is that you have in this apartment.”

“Chocolate-covered pretzels,” you think he says. His tongue doesn’t seem to be working.

“Speak clearly, and tell me where they are,” you do your best imitation of a drill sargeant.

Maybe it works, or maybe Callum’s just slipped into that space where any reprimand is too much. “Th-the cabinet next to the fridge, bottom shelf.”

“You’re so obedient and sweet,” you pet his head again and you swear, he honest to god purrs. “Get on all fours and wait for me, I’ll bring you something sweet, too.”

You don’t bother turning back when you get the treat, because you know he’s going to obey you. Sure enough, he’s on his hands and knees, the perfect place for you to rest your feet. So you do. You turn the television on to something that’s hopefully not the news because you don’t want to get distracted by the state of the world, open the bag of pretzels, and grab one to slide into his mouth. His lips are warm over your fingers, and you can feel their imprint long after you withdraw your hand.

#callum ballimore #shakespeare and hathaway fanfic #joey i am literally begging you not to look through this tag #into the joeyverse

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itonlyhappenstome · 4 years

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Coronavirus UK Lockdown Homeschooling Day 2

Well we survived day 1, and day 2 started with Home Economics as mummy was too hungover from surviving day 1 to get up and make breakfast… But we survived! Mentally and physically! And I think we can ask no more really!

I think I can already predict/see a pattern starting in my new schedule, suppress the anxiety and panic and urge to scream until 3pm and then start the countdown to having a drink.

Firstly every day put the new bottles of Tonic water in the fridge and refill the ice cube trays ready for drink o clock.

Try to not check your multiple whats app groups too often and compare yourself to how other parents are doing it. As the cracks are starting to show with everyone… And you can guarantee if you are feeling like you may have a mental breakdown — then others are feeling it also, and they are mostly acting how they want to feel or what they want others to think they are feeling and doing. So do not depress yourself further at this stage by even pretending you have to pretend or compete if you cannot mentally cope, you have nothing to prove to anyone.

But we are all united and completely the same in that we are all just trying our best and doing our best — and 100% in that we are all aligned, and in this together. There is no manual for this shit, there is no precedent for this situation, the only experience we have to go on are for people maybe days or weeks ahead of us. They are our future…

Lockdown coronavirus future prediction

So yesterday, Day 1, I tried, I really did, and I have had reflection on the day… And it started so well with so much enthusiasm. We were ready for the Joe Wicks work out at 9am, and the children nearly did a whole 4 minutes before moaning. We then did maths, english, reading, writing, educational games, encouragement and even a bit of gardening. And then I realised it was only 11am and the children wanted lunch, we had gone through all of the stuff I had planned — and I was actually desperately praying to need a Poo just so I could sit in a room with a locked door alone for 5 minutes — albeit with the kids sat outside asking me how long I would be.

By 4pm I said through gritted teeth to my husband “Take them out. Please. I need just 30 minutes peace” and he replied “But we are on lockdown, I cannot take them out!” To which I responded through gritted teeth “We live in a sodding tiny village. Find. A. Fucking. Isolated. Field. JUST. GO. NOW” and he left looking a bit scared.

It is really hard for couples to be together, the whole dynamic of the house, work, jobs, life is on its head. And I know we are only hours into the lockdown, but we are on the “Coronavirus upward curve of irritation” here in the marital sense. My husband has already made the following comments “Wow I never realised or noticed your stomach digested food so loudly…” and also “Crikey, you swallow and yawn so loudly, its making me shudder, can you stop that?” Forget rising birth rates, Divorce and spousal violence is going to go through the roof!!

But anyway that was Day 1 in retrospect, and we are now on Day 2. The eldest is a super star and sticking to her schedule, the youngest two started at 11am (when I say started I mean I locked them in the garden on the trampoline in a sort of baby Thunderdome way) and they have ramped up the arguing to violence, even balloons on sticks had to be confiscated as god only knows what we would do if a trip was needed to A&E.

I made it into clothes just before lunchtime. It has helped being selective with information I have read about all of this, and going with humour, and finding friends who are on the same level of admittance that they are struggling with this mentally.

And it’s great the way life evolves, already my evening social calendars are filling up with whatsapp and video Quiz nights and wine bar style events. And it is bringing out the best in the community with everyone helping each other. There is indeed a positive in everything, we all just need to keep our chin up (or chins, in my case as I have already started on the kids Easter eggs and the Gym is shut).

I say that in a slightly hysterical clutching at straws way of course!

Anyone know of a nice hotel thats still open?!?

This afternoon we went on our once daily outing (I am sure it is advised that dogs go outside and exercise more…) paranoid about meeting anyone and 1) being judged for being out and 2) wondering how we were going to stop the children flinging themselves at friends and 3) Did we actually know how far 2 metres was visually and should we have bought a tape measure.

Simple pleasures, the children found a massive boggy swamp, so this afternoons lesson when we got back was learning how to get the washing machine going.

We were also worried about running out of guinea pig food so went picking dandelions — which as now as I type has occurred to me are probably covered in pesticides and dog piss, bloody distracted by virus and taking my eye off the ball for anything else!

We combined schooling with the walk and made them run around to work in PE as we were too hungover (adults, not the kids I hasten to add) at 9am to face Joe. And then made them spell everything we saw “Mud” “Grass” “Dirt” “Bird” “Dog Shit” , “rubbish”- all the stuff you find in English nature!

And that is Day 2 done. I have realised that as long as I lower my expectations then every day is a winner and reduces the panic and self loathing!

I have also realised that myself and everyone else in the world has to compulsively end every message of any medium with “Stay Safe”. This is all a fascinating social experiment that I am sure will be ponderised over for years to come!

#lockdown #homeschool #surviving #covid #parentinghell #winningatlife #Parentinghungover

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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631

General Randomness What's the weather like right now? It’s very bright and sunny out, but January is typically one of the colder days of the year so I’m not feeling uncomfortable right now. It’s the perfectly chilly temperature I would have liked to have all year long. What are you currently sitting on? I am sitting on a chair at our dining table, which is usually where I take surveys. How many times have you brushed your teeth today? Just once.

When did you get up? I’ve been up since 8, but didn’t get out of bed until 10.

Have you been in a vehicle for more than 45 minutes today? I haven’t been in a car at all today cos I’ve only stayed home. Angela invited me to go out for some drinks but I didn’t feel like drinking or being out today, so I’ve been home the whole time.

Where is your best friend? I think Angela is at home but I’m sure she’s getting ready to go out for the aforementioned ^ drinking. I’m not sure where Gab is. How many days until Christmas? Oh wow, barely missed it, chief. There are 355ish days left, I’m guessing? Have you kissed someone today? Nope. Is your mom over 50? No, and she still has a year to go. How old were you 7 years ago? I was technically 14, but was about to turn 15 in a few months. Do you know what 'C'est la vie' means? Yep. In Gen Z lingo, it essentially means, ‘it be like that sometimes’ lmao. Do you usually take showers or baths? Showers, because we don’t have bathtubs and also because I find it much more efficient anyway. I only take baths when I’m out of town, in a fancy hotel, and want to pamper myself with bubbles and fancy body wash. What kind of bottoms are you wearing right now? I’m wearing shorts just meant for the home.

Are you wearing anything red? Yes, the pair of shorts I just talked about. What was the name of your first pet? I didn’t keep track of my first goldfish’s name but a good guess would be Goldie. I wasn’t a very creative kid, so I wouldn’t be surprised if that turned out to be right. Do you live in an apartment? Nope. I’ve been living with my parents under their roof. What color is the floor in the room you're in? Cream-ish. What was the most irritating thing to happen to you today? My thesis professor being a headache to talk to. I am genuinely baffled at how she was able to secure a very high position in my university’s administration, considering how erratic she can get. How do you feel about your most recent ex? She’s great. Do you wish at 11:11? No. Do you wish on shooting stars? I would, if they often visited on this side of the world. But they don’t, so. Do you wish on dandelions? No. There aren’t a lot where I live. Are you drinking anything right now? Mmm no, not at the moment. I finished my coffee a little while ago and while I want to make a second cup to keep myself awake, I have an early morning tomorrow so I’d want to sleep early tonight. It’s back to work for me, ugh. About how tall is your father? Not too tall. He’s like, 5′5 or 5′6. How old is your oldest living grandparent? I only know the age of one grandparent, and that’s my 73 year old maternal grandmother. I don’t get to see my paternal grandparents a lot cos they live quite far, so with that comes my insufficient knowledge about them. Do you know anyone who has lived to be 100+? Gab’s great-grandmother, but she passed away last November. Have you had your birthday yet this year? Nope. There’s been a mere three days into the year, so very few people would already have had their birthdays hahaha. Do you read your horoscope on a regular basis? No. You do you, but I was never a fan. It’s also a pet peeve when people use their star sign as excuses for their shitty behavior. “Sorry I acted up, I’m a Scorpio,” “I hate everybody because I’m an Aquarius,” “I ghosted them because I’m a Cancer” no it’s because you’re a bitch, Karen. Do you like the color yellow? I hate it a bit less than green (my least favorite color) only because I love the song Yellow by Coldplay and because mustard yellow isn’t that bad of a color. Are you an aunt or uncle? If my friends start having kids soon, then I’ll be an aunt. Why is your best friend your best friend? They both understand my weirdness and all my quirks and never made me feel like I was being judged. What is your hair like at the moment? Tbh it matches my top pretty well so as frizzy as my hair is at the moment, it still looks good with the tank top I have on lolol. How many times have you donated blood this year? Zero. I’m scared of needles, and even if I get over that phobia I wouldn’t be able to donate anyway because I’m underweight. Are you wearing any jewelry? No, not right now. Are you a video-gamer? I wouldn’t call myself that. I play GTA just to be a law-abiding citizen and not actually do the missions lol, I get tired of playing The Sims after ten minutes, and I only play a handful of Nintendo games. Who got married at the last wedding you went to? My mom’s brother and his then-fiancee, now one of my favorite aunts except for the facts that she’s a hardcore Duterte supporter and Marcos apologist. Do you like Chinese food? Yep, it’s one of my favorite cuisines. How far is the nearest Walmart? I can’t walk nor drive to it, that’s for sure. Have you ever been a designated driver? I’m always DD by default because I’m the only one among my friends who has a car other than JM, who also has a (much bigger) car but is terribly low-tolerance and will absolutely pass out. I get tipsy easily as well, but I sober up real quick and always make sure I’m 100% back to reality by the time I drive. Which means that I typically have to stop drinking earlier than the rest of my friends, but so long as that means I get to take everyone back home safe, it’s okay with me. What is something that always brings tears to your eyes? My mom yelling at me. Who is your 20th phone contact? My contacts aren’t numbered thus I’m too lazy to count manually. Do you have any plans to get a tattoo? It’s not completely off the table, but I’ve definitely toned down my original plans of getting tattoo sleeves and getting myself generally covered a la CM Punk (and I have to tell ya, I’m so glad I grew out of that phase). These days I prefer to have small tattoos to memorialize significant people or events, and some of my plans include my dog’s pawprint and a plate of nachos. Or a new piercing? Probably not. What would your name be if your last name was the color of your shirt? Brown. If you could find out how you would die, would you want to know? Yes. I hate the unknown and would rather be certain, no matter how ugly or nasty the certainty holds. Do you make your bed regularly? Every morning. Do you look forward to the weekend? NO. I have a 2-day meeting for my 2-day weekend. I am so dreading it. I just want to stay a lazy couch blob for another week. How much do you know about the mechanics of cars? I know how to turn a car on, go forward, reverse, brake, and open my gas tank... and that’s about it. Has anyone ever told you you should be a model? Model and beauty queen, yeah. How old was your mom when she had you? She was 26, but was turning 27 that year. Do rainy days get you down? No. I thrive on rainy days lmao. Who is the artist/band you're listening to at the moment? No music keeping me company at the moment. Do you ever take aspirin when you 'feel a headache coming on'? Not aspirin but I take a Biogesic. I dunno if those two or the same thing or not. Is there a calendar in the room you're in? Nope. Do you prefer to be in a relationship or be single? I’ve been seeing a person for technically six years, so now I prefer a relationship after being accustomed to having one for so long. If you're single, do you wish you were in a relationship? Have you ever had your heart broken? Sure. Do you live within an hour of the beach? No. I’m very far away from the beach :( How do you like your steak? Rare or medium-rare. Were you born in the 1980s? I was not. A Few Firsts What was the first sound you heard when you woke up? I woke up to the sound of my mom calling me on my phone. I was half-asleep and didn’t feel like answering, so I muted it and went back to sleep. I feel guilty now that I remember, but she didn’t call back or text me so it probably wasn’t a big deal. Who was your first best friend? It was a girl named Kaye from kinder. We were good friends for like two years, and then we got sorted to different sections in Prep and drifted apart after that. Who was your first boyfriend/girlfriend? I’ve said her name so many times on these surveys already. Y’all know. Who was your first date to a formal dance? I haaaateeeeed the idea of asking guys out and being in a relationship for most of high school, so I made sure I only asked my cousin for my prom. How bad was your first break up? Pretty messed up. There was a lot of tension and resentment and confusion in the beginning. Throw in my grandfather’s sudden death and me taking the UPCAT, and you have my mental health completely rattled! What was your first favorite movie? High School Musical, for sure. How old were you when you had your first kiss? 16. What was your first trip to the emergency room for? My platelet count was really low, I was in danger of getting dengue, and had to stay the night at the hospital. Then there was sticking the IV onto my wrist, upon which I made a complete scene in the emergency room and thrashed and kicked around while my (very frail) grandma (sorry, Lola) tried to hold me down with a lot of patients watching lol. Where was the first place you went today? The kitchen. Who was the first person you saw? My sister, I think. What was the first thing you thought about when you woke up? I wondered why my mom called, realized I was too sleepy to care, and went back to bed. Do you remember the first time you spent the night away from home? Yupppp. I was in third grade, my club had an overnight camping thingy as its culmination activity, and it was the first time ever that I was allowed to spend the night somewhere else. I remember being around a campfire, roasting marshmallows for the first time, having to share a sleeping mat with Katreen, and her kicking me in her sleep.

Where was your first big vacation to? Boracay. What was your first job? None yet. I’ll make sure to update you by the end of the year. What was the first thing you had to drink today? Coffee.

Some Lasts Where was the location of your last kiss? My girlfriend’s car, when she dropped me back at my place. How old was the last person you kissed? 21. What was the last movie you rented? I’ve never experienced renting a movie, which definitely confirms my status as a Gen Z kid lmao. But I can tell you that the last movie I watched was Knives Out. Where was the last place you went? Other than around my house, we went to church last Tuesday night for New Year’s Eve mass. What was the last restaurant you went to? Yabu. Who was the last person to call you? My mom, this morning. Who was the last non-relative you spoke in person to? Gabie. What was the last thing you bought? I got dinner from Yabu, haha. When was the last time you drove more than an hour somewhere? December 14th. That evening was INSANE. It was Saturday + Christmas traffic, and it took me two hours to travel from Antipolo to Rita’s place in Makati. JM and I drove separately cos we were a big group - his drive took FOUR hours. Why did you last get angry? My thesis prof was doing us so fucking dirty and I couldn’t do anything about it. What color was the last vehicle you rode in? Blue-green. How long ago was your last birthday? NIne months. When did it last rain? It drizzled a little bit yesterday. What was the age difference between you and your most recent ex? A month and a half. When was the last time you used a dictionary? Maybe an hour ago for a word I used in a past survey lol. Mini iPod Shuffle: Don't Cheat, Use Whatever Song Comes Up, No Matter How Ridiculous (I have several playlists, so I’ll just use the Spotify-curated playlist made for Gab’s account called Your Top Songs 2019 hahahaha) My love song: Love song - Lana Del Rey (Wow.) My fight song: Swim Against the Tide - The Japanese House My break-up song: New Light - John Mayer The song for when I'm sad: Money - Leikeli47 The song for when I'm angry: Constant Conversations - Passion Pit My song to have sex to: Bad Girls - Tennis The song about my ex: Just the Same But Brand New - St. Vincent The song about my best friend: Juice - LIZZO The song about my crush: Seventeen - no rome My 'feel good' song: Venice Bitch - Lana Del Rey The theme song of my life: Formation - Beyoncé I literally know four of these songs, which I’ve since bolded just so y’all know that I have no idea what the other seven songs are and if they make sense with the situations at hand. Gab clearly uses her account more than I do, which should be the case anyway lmfaoooooo.

#survey #surveys

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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Elastic Heart - Part 7/10 (Branjie) - Mia Ugly

A/N: I told you I was going to post the rest quickly before the show changed it up too much, so here we are. Thanks again to this amazing group, with its brilliant mods and incomparable writers. And as an aside: I may have some feelings about Dr. Ganache, but she is NOT a villain here. She is a problematic and protective friend. No tea. No shade.

Brock drives to Orlando.

He stops at West Palm Beach, digs his toes into the white sand and then dips them in the ocean. The beach is crowded with tourists (Brock knows that he’s one of them) and he wishes briefly for a wide brimmed hat. He leaves before he can burn too badly, though he takes a couple selfies at the shoreline. Give his manager something to work with at least.

He drives slow along the coast. Around noon he stops at a fresh fruit stand and buys starfruit (for some reason, even though he’s never tasted it, it just seems like the thing to do.) He buys some peaches and a bag of pecans too because the lady at the stand is sweet and nosy and reminds him of his grandmother. Later on, when he finds a pretty place to pull over, he sits on the hood of the rental car and eats the peach, skin and all. It tastes like summer, tastes like being young. Brock took family trips through the Okanagan as a child, can remember the fresh fruit that fell apart in your hands, turned to syrup on your tongue.

In Orlando, he finds a cheap hotel and he naps for a few hours (sleep is precious and rare, a religious icon) before he showers. Dresses in the butchest, most invisible clothing he brought with him (he’s got a lot of options and that’s a bit distressing.) If Jose’s not there, Brock doesn’t really want to be recognized, doesn’t want it to turn into a thing. And if Jose is there, well, he’s seen Brock in a lot worse.

Brock eats the pecans he bought (he needs to google ‘How to eat starfruit’ and decides it’s too much work for the situation) and the other peach. He finds a bar nearby and drinks one drink (just one, he’s got to stay focused) slowly, and alone. No one looks at him. No one recognizes him. The worn grey sweatshirt is apparently doing the fucking trick.

He takes an Uber to Vanjie’s club, because he doesn’t want to worry about driving. There’s a poster of her in the window, dressed in some sort of bejeweled body-suit, and it makes Brock smile. Build your brand, girl (the smile feels unfamiliar on his mouth.)

The bar is crowded. Loud. There’s a DJ playing and crowds of tanned men in tanktops grinding on the dance floor. It makes Brock feel older than he is, and he slinks through the knots of people to get to the bar, squeeze into the inch of available space and order a vodka soda.

He stirs the ice in his drink, and tries to come up with a plan. Jose’s here. He’s here, or he will be here, and Brock can see him. Hear his voice. Just for tonight, and then he’ll leave it all behind him like exhaust fumes.

The drink disappears too quickly, and Brock orders another. He keeps his head down, tries to be inconspicuous. He must give off some kind of heartbroken vibe because no one has the time or energy for him tonight.

He’s glancing around anxiously - wondering when the show will start and whether Jose will make an appearance before then - when someone clears their throat loudly. Leaning up against the bar, only a few handsy drunk guys between them, is Silky fucking Ganache.

Great.

“Miss Brooke Lynn Hytes.” Silky’s in full face, sickening hair, and a purple-sequined mermaid gown. She comes toward Brock, pushing the people between them out of the way as if they were dandelion fluff. “Now what might you be doin’ here?”

Brock should be surprised to see her, but he isn’t. Silky and Jose seem connected at the hip lately, and that’s good. He’s glad Jose has someone he loves close by, someone so clearly protective of him.

Brock air-kisses Silky on each cheek, unenthusiastically.

“Just in the neighbourhood.”

“What neighbourhood is that? Last I heard you were up in Canada, couldn’t cross the border.”

Brock rolls his eyes. “I had a show yesterday. Thought I’d come say hi.”

“Ain’t you sweet. And lookin’ so fine too.” She gives his sweatshirt an understandably critical eye. “The good stuff ain’t started yet, honey, but that’s what it is. Suppose you’re lookin’ for Miss Vanjie.”

Brock doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t.

“Don’t know if she’ll want to see your ass,” Silky continues. “She still tryin’ to get her head right after everything.”

“Yeah. Things got messed up.” Brock stirs at the ice in his drink, wanting to keep his hands busy. “I messed them up.”

“You don’t got to tell me that.” The expression on her face leaves Brock with no question as to what Silky thinks of him, and that’s fine. Or - understandable anyway.

“Is she backstage?”

“Nah, baby, she left already. Canceled her appearance, went off with some fine piece of ass. She probably off sucking his dick in a car somewhere.”

Brock almost drops his drink. A part of him wishes he had; the sound of breaking glass could’ve drowned out all the other things that are breaking.

But then he hears a laugh across the crowded bar, a laugh that he would recognize anywhere - ninety years old and deaf and blind, he would still know Vanjie’s laugh by the way it raised goosebumps on his skin.

“Or did she?” Silky frowns. “Oops, my bad.”

Brock looks in the direction of the laugh, a group of people that have just emerged from the green room. For a moment he can’t see anyone clearly - and then Vanjie’s blonde bombshell wig catches the lights, and he can see her face. Clearly, for the first time in months. She’s smiling and has some kind of silvery lipstick on, and to cross the floor to get to her would probably take him thirty seconds.

But.

But she’s leaning into someone, a muscular dark-haired guy with tattoos winding up his arms. She’s smiling as she looks at him, as she moves closer, as her lips find the corner of his mouth.

(He knew, of course. Yvie told him. He’d heard rumours online. He thought that forewarning would take some of the bite out of seeing it in person, but he was wrong. There are teeth at his throat, all of them filed into points.)

“You think she wants any of your sad-boy bullshit right now?” Silky snorts. “I dunno. Seems to be having herself a good time.”

Brock holds his breath. Plays out all the ways this could go. Vanjie hasn’t seen him yet, and her smile is wide and white-toothed. If he crosses the floor right now, he knows that smile will drop, that her eyes will go hard, that her back will stiffen. He could go over there, cross the floor and have her within hands reach. He could touch her shoulder (Brock’s heart might live behind walls, but his body does not) and completely ruin her night.

But she looks beautiful. She looks happy.

“She ain’t even spotted your ass yet. You ain’t got to cause no drama.” Silky looks between Brock and Vanjie, eyes narrowed. “Tell you what, why don’t you run along, Miss Brooke Lynn? She don’t even got to know you were here.”

Brock gives Silky a flat look. The two of them aren’t friends, won’t ever be friends, but they have one thing desperately in common. That one thing cuts through all the bullshit, right through to the bone.

“How’s she doing?” Brock asks, and Silky shrugs.

“She fine as hell, what you want me to say? She getting on with it. She got her girls looking out for her.”

“How are you doing?”

Silky laughs. “Just waitin’ around to collect my prize money. Baby, you should see me in a crown.”

Silky might be convinced of her certain victory, but she’s as in the dark as everyone else. Brock didn’t know until he got to Drag Race that production films multiple endings for the series, that the top queens don’t find out who wins until the last episode airs.

Of course, it could never be said that Silky lacks in confidence.

“Will you - tell her I was here? That I didn’t want to interrupt her.”

“Nah, bitch. You in her head too much already, and I ain’t your messenger.”

Across the bar, Vanjie laughs - loud and gravelly and gorgeous. Brock wishes he could capture that laugh like a jar full of fireflies and keep it. Visit it whenever he got tired, whenever he forgot that there were good things in the world, and once he had been part of one.

There’s maybe forty feet between Brock and Vanjie. It feels like an ocean (but she looks happy. What more can he ask for?)

“Take care of yourself,” Brock says to Silky. “See you on tour.”

“How will I ever survive the wait?” Silky waves him away. “Yeah, go on home, Brooke. We good here.”

And it’s only because Brock can’t bear to see the smile fall from Vanjie’s face. It’s only because he didn’t let her know he was coming, and doesn’t want to surprise her and throw off her act. It’s only because she’s running her hands over another man’s shoulders with those dark, smoky eyes she gets sometimes - that’s the only reason Brock leaves.

He isn’t afraid.

He calls himself the worst sorts of names as he gets a ride back to his hotel. Then he raids the minibar and tells himself it’s all for the best.

He got to see her. She looked beautiful (but she always looks beautiful) and happy. That’s all he can ask for.

Nina has texted him twice since that morning.

“Brock?”

And then: “BROCK???”

Brock wants to drink some more vodka and then blissfully pass out.

Instead.

He phones a friend.

* * *

So.

There’s a music video challenge, and Brooke Lynn bombs it. It’s not as bad as Snatch Game, but she’s nowhere close to the talent of A’Keria and Silky, and Yvie’s not as strong but she’s better than Brooke. Brooke’s gotten in her head again, hearing that voice on repeat telling her she’s not funny, she’s awkward, she’s letting people down (this is for the Top Five WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING -)

So. She’s prepared to lip sync. It’s not like the last time, the time against Yvie. Today she knows with one hundred percent certainty that it’s coming.

And she knows she’s going to be up against Vanjie. The great moment of television that Yvie predicted is finally here. Give us all a fucking Emmy.

Vanjie is struggling with even the mini-challenges lately, and Brooke is trying to convince herself that it’s not her fault. They haven’t spoken privately since that night in Vanjie’s room (and that was a fucking mistake but Brooke still is having trouble regretting it. She wanted her. She still wants her. And fuck, it wasn’t the right time but Brooke would get on her knees for Vanjie in the middle of the werkroom if the other queen asked. Which she won’t, but.

Brooke would do it.)

There’s defeat in Vanjie’s eyes now, like she’s waiting to get called out by the judges, like it’s inevitable that she’ll be the next one sent home. Even though she’s survived two lip syncs already, even though she’s changed up her silhouette so Michelle can’t keep reading her - Vanjie’s not having fun anymore. From the outside looking in at least (and Brooke is certainly on the outside now) it seems like she isn’t.

Did Brooke do that? Or was it just the show? As the production keeps going, Brooke feels her own spark dimming as well. She wants to celebrate each elimination that she survives, but she’s also really fucking tired and - she’s in it until the end, of course, but she’s glad that the end is in sight.

So.

Top Five.

They leave the runway while the judges deliberate. Vanjie doesn’t say a word, just walks off on her own with her earbuds in. A’Keria gives Brooke an anxious look before she follows her.

Brooke gets a cocktail, drinks it too fast.

She knows tonight’s song by heart, has danced to it before. She waits until A’Keria comes back to the couch, whispers something in Silky’s ear before raising an eyebrow at Brooke.

“You better have a word with your girl,” A’Keria says. “She ain’t right.”

She’s not my girl, Brooke wants to say, but she also wishes that it were true. She wishes Vanjie was hers, that they’d met somewhere normal and boring and didn’t have all this extra shit in between them. It would have been different then. Brooke would have been different, not so in her head, not so reserved. They would have been able to touch and fuck and spend time alone like normal people.

They might have made it. Could have made it.

Brooke resists the urge to build a pillow fort when all she wants to do is bury herself, so deep she disappears. Instead, she gets off the couch and goes after Vanjie.

The impossible object of Brooke’s affections is sitting at the mirrors, eyes closed and earbuds in. She looks like a scene from a painting, a still from a classic black-and-white movie. Brooke puts a hand on her shoulder to get her attention (and they both pretend they don’t notice her flinch.)

When Vanessa opens her eyes, they’ve got that dark, glassy look that Brooke recognizes. It’s the same look she had when Yvie suddenly turned on her in the backstage lounge, all those nights ago. It’s the look she had after the Snatch Game, when Ru told Brooke she was up for elimination. It’s pain and surprise, swirled together like ink.

“You doing okay?” Brooke asks.

Vanessa takes out one of her earbuds and nods, tightly. She doesn’t look at Brooke.

“And you’re ready?”

The other queen takes a deep breath before she answers. “I ain’t gonna let you off easy just cuz you’re pretty.”

Brooke laughs, startled, and the corner of Vanjie’s mouth curls. It’s like they’re okay for a minute, like they’re back on the beach, that sunny afternoon when Brooke first realized that her heart was not her own anymore. That it had somehow stretched itself into Vanjie’s hands, wound around her fingers.

For a minute, it’s like that.

“I wish I’d met you earlier,” Brooke says because she has to, because the words are burning through her throat. “At a club or something. Not here.”

She won’t cry, she tells herself. She can’t cry.

“Well. What you gonna do?” Vanjie still has her eyes fixed on the mirror, fussing with her wig (her hands are shaking). “Gotta go out there and do what you do best, bitch. It’s what you came here for.”

“That was before-“

“Before what? Before you met me? Don’t expect me to believe that Miss Brooke Lynn.” Vanjie finally looks at her, a hint of her old self bleeding through the armour she’s put on. “You’re here for a crown. So go and get it.” She gives Brooke a stare that’s part challenge, part longing, and all heartache. “If you think you can.”

Brooke swallows around the tightness in her throat. Then she nods (when what she really wants to do is take Vanjie’s hand and pull her out of her chair, kick down the door and get out of this studio. Fight off the P.A.s, find a cab, go to LAX, run the fuck away. Together. Leave this all behind and start over.)

“Kill it,” she says instead. “Show ‘em why they brought you back.”

“You know I fucking will.” Vanjie puts her earbud back in, goes back to her own world.

Brooke doesn’t dare touch her again, and walks away to a separate corner of the lounge. She realizes suddenly that the other girls are quiet. Even Silky. There’s none of the shouting and laughing that usually fills the air backstage. When they talk, it’s almost in whispers. It feels more like a funeral than a reality show.

Brooke puts her earbuds in, turns up the volume. She can taste her heart thumping in her throat. She told herself she wouldn’t get distracted. This thing with Vanjie wouldn’t become a problem.

And now the moment has come. And it’s so much more than just a problem.

In her ear Sia sings: “And another one bites the dust. Oh why can I not conquer love?”

Brooke loves this fucking song. She doesn’t need to practice; she knows exactly what she’s going to do.

Go out there on that stage and slay.

Go out there and break her own heart.

(If she had met Vanjie in a club, she would have heard her before she saw her.

She would have clocked that laugh immediately and thought up a million reasons to go talk to her. If she had met her at a club, Brooke would have bought her a drink and asked if she wanted to get out of there ten minutes later. She would have taken her to the beach, to a bookstore, to the park, to a thrift shop. She would have wanted to hear her voice and ask her questions - how did you start doing drag? What’s your favourite song? What were your grandparents like? Who was the first person that broke your heart?

What keeps you up at night? Who are you when your paint is off and the lights go down and you’re alone at home and tired? Who do you think about? What were your pets named? How do you feel about cats?

If she had met Vanjie in a club, they would have talked about Monique Heart in AllStars, and the miracle of seeing Latrice live, and how Drag Race could be problematic AF but make a queen’s career. Change their life. How they’d give anything to get on it.

If she had met Vanjie anywhere else, Brooke would have still wanted her.)

It hits her like a punch, driving the wind from her lungs. Vanessa had told her to figure out what she wanted. And at last - Brooke has.

Just when everything’s about to fall apart, Brooke has.

“I’ve got thick skin and an elastic heart

but your blade it might be too sharp.”

“Five minutes,” a P.A. calls, and the other queens start to get their heels back on, finish the last sips of their cocktails.

Yvie pats her on the shoulder as she walks by. “It’s you and me in the Top Two, girl. Deal with it.”

Even Yvie’s encouragement comes off as a bit threatening, but the consistency is enough to make Brooke smile.

This is it.

She intercepts Vanessa before she goes back onstage. They stand inches apart, breathing in each other’s air. They do not touch.

(“Hi Papi.”)

(“Shoulda known you’d be a Pisces.”)

(“Y’had something on your face, Hytes.”)

(“I like the way you are.”)

“Hello, hello, hello Miss Brooke Lynn,” Vanessa says finally and Brooke swallows a laugh that might be a sob.

“Miss Vaaaanjie.”

“I’ma hold you to that Oliver Garden dinner,” Vanessa smiles wide but her eyes are shining. “You made a promise, ho, you ain’t done with me.”

Brooke shakes her head ‘no’ (will she ever be done with Vanessa? She can’t imagine a world where that would be possible, where she could look at Vanjie and not fall utterly to pieces.)

Brooke holds out her hand. Vanjie looks at it a bit dubiously before she takes it. Their fingers lace as if they never were apart.

They’re still holding hands when they go back to the mainstage.

After it’s announced that they’re both up for elimination, Ross Matthews starts covertly wiping away tears. It’ll make for a great episode, Brooke thinks, and wishes that the voice in her head didn’t sound so bitter.

“Brooke Lynn Hytes. Vanessa Vanjie Mateo. The time has come for you to lip-synch for. Your. Life.”

Brooke can feel Vanessa’s pulse fluttering like a bird against her fingertips. She’s terrified, Brooke realizes.

Brooke is too.

(“You be careful girl.” A’Keria’s voice rings from somewhere in the background of her memories.

“You know what you’re doing?” Yvie is scowling at her on the beach, and Brooke swallows down every instinct she has that’s screaming “NO.”)

“Good luck. And don’t fuck it up.”

Brooke lets Vanjie’s hand slide from her grasp. It feels like saying goodbye.

And the music plays.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #smut #angst #canon compliant #eventual happy ending #elastic heart #mia ugly #tw alcohol #concrit welcome #submission #on set fic #s11

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runningwhump · 5 years

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This is Very Long and continues from this (also i promise I’ll make a masterpost of all of these soon)

anyway, here is 6367 words of Liam being stressed!

(content warnings for threats of harm to children but none are actually hurt or scared)

Liam must’ve passed out at some point, tied up in the boot. The road felt different. It wasn’t the pot-hole filled, run down roads of his hometown, they were smoother, newer. The car was definitely moving faster, or at least that’s what it sounded like. There were more cars around too, he could hear them racing beside them. So, definitely out of town. The furthest away he’d ever been before was the big town 40 minutes away to get a suit for a funeral.

He was so tired. It had only been about a month since he’d been taken, but it felt like a lifetime. It might as well have been, considering how different of a person he figured he must be. He was always accommodating to others, never really wanting to take up more space than necessary or promote himself in the place of others, a learned behaviour after living at his parents’ for so long. After moving out into his shitty flat, he had started to get more assertive, more likely to try and do something himself before asking for help but feeling less bad when he did need it. But throughout it all, if someone was trying to hurt him, he would stick up for himself. The rare confident moments he had was when someone tried to tear him down - Blake once described it as him being one of those cartoon trees that would only bend back so far before flicking up and flinging the character across the sea.

Now?

Now he wouldn’t even consider trying to fight back or even disobey. Even if Keanan was just… not insulting him, but just saying things he wouldn’t otherwise accept without a comeback - that he was precious, that he belonged to keanan, his ‘Little bird’, his canary. He felt weak for breaking so soon, although the logical part of his brain reminded him that he has been tortured near-daily for a month. Four weeks. And that was only an estimate judging by some of the things his captor had said, no real evidence. He didn’t even have a clock down there.

He didn’t even know where they were going. He would pretty easily break free, get someone to notice him, but what if when the cops pulled them over keanan hurt them? He didn’t exactly like cops but their families didn’t deserve whatever would be done to them. What if when he was taken out of the boot, they somehow found out what he was and handed him back? That would make everything so much worse, and if he could placate keanan by doing nothing then so be it. Maybe he could try and make a break for it when keanan opened the boot, if he wasn’t already in a house. It wouldn’t work, but maybe… no, it wasn’t worth it. The only thing that would happen would be keanan catching him, dragging him back where ever, and making it so he couldn’t ever run again. Liam shivered.

It was colder than when the car first started so he guessed it was getting to evening, but they were still driving, albeit slower. Were they getting close? Did Liam want them to get close? At least with being in the boot he knew he was safe, that Keanan wouldn’t come bursting in without warning and almost kill him.

Oh, oh no. he spoke too soon. The car had rolled to a stop.

He heard and felt Keanan’s door open, but no matter how hard he strained he couldn’t hear any other cars. This was it, then.

The boot was yanked open, and the sudden burst of light into the formerly pitch black boot bled through his hood. Liam could feel Keanan standing there, staring down at him. He was still shirtless, had been ever since the first week when his shirt had been destroyed, and he felt it now in the breeze slicing icily over his scars.

He was helped up to sitting on the edge of the bonnet, and Keanan removed his hood after opening the ties of his wrists. Liam tried not to look at him, unsure if it would be read as defiance or whatever, but keanan gripped his chin and forced him to. From what he could see around keanan’s face, the were along a rarely used dirt road, forest behind them, farms ahead. There was grass and little flowers in between the worn tire tracks, dandelions just starting to bloom.

Neither of them spoke. Keanan was just casting his gaze over Liam’s face and shivering body. It was only partly from cold - keanan was only ever quiet when he was planning something and Liam felt fear pickle over his skin along with Keanan’s gaze.

The older man’s longish, dirty-blond hair was down, one of the first times Liam had seen it like that, and it was whipping about his face with every strong gust of wind but he didn’t seem to notice as he sat down beside Liam. he tensed, waiting for something to happen, refusing to move. He must’ve looked like a mouse next to a cat.

“Liam, I’m going to trust you with something important.” he said, looking off into the field beyond them. Liam didn’t really know what to make of it. So far, keanan had only ever treated him as a pet, as something to play with every so often, not as a person with thoughts and the ability to be trusted. He wasn’t sure which he preferred at this point.

“We aren’t going to get where we’re going today. It’s already getting late, and I don’t want to drive down little country roads in the dark. So, I’m going to have you heal yourself so you have no visible marks, give you a shirt, put you in the passenger seat, and drive to a hotel.”

Ah. that’s why keanan was ‘trusting’ him. Trusting him not to run off or call for help. He would have to check into a hotel with his kidnapper, be surrounded by potential help, and let keanan keep him.

The man in question had turned to face Liam again, dead green-brown eyes turned questioning.

“Are you going to behave, or am I going to leave you in the car boot overnight?” he asked, not a little bit joking.

“I’ll behave” Liam answered, voice creaking from having not drunk anything all day. Keanan smiled in response, a sharp-toothed grin peeking from behind pale lips. He was going to enjoy this, Liam realised. Had he planned this from the beginning?

And where the hell were they going that was a two day drive away?

Keanan told him to start before getting up, and Liam did as he was told with only a minor sting of embarrassment. Ge decided to focus on this all being to protect others. If keanan spotted him trying to ask someone for help, and he certainly would if he tried, he would kill them. Liam didn’t want anyone else to get hurt.

As he was finishing healing the bruises around his wrists from his ropes being too tight, keanan came over with a plain white shirt and a pair of black jeans before turning away to give Liam at least a little privacy, which he was very thankful for. The jeans were identical to what he had kidnapped Liam in, which was disturbing to say the least. Liam’s own were blood-stained and unsalvageable, so he did really need new ones if they were going somewhere, but it creeped him out that they were just… a new pair of the same trousers and he couldn’t really word why. It was the same with the shirt, it was the exact correct size and almost the same as the one he’d been kidnapped in, although that made more sense as he could’ve looked at the label. Liam brushed it off as just something keanan did. It felt good to have clean clothes and a shirt, more secure. He hoped he was allowed to keep it when they got to wherever they were going.

Liam cleared his throat, and keanan started walking to his door without turning around, telling Liam to shut the boot and get in the front.

It was strange to sit next to him in the car. Here was this man, this monster, that had kidnapped and tortured him, that had convinced his only close friend that he was dead, that murdered for money and fun, was just sitting there, driving down a small road in the countryside with a random pop song playing quietly through the radio. He looked relaxed but his face was blank. The windows were all closed, so his hair just hung around his shoulders, messed up from the wind.

The car wasn’t even that nice - dark blue, scratched bumper, kind of dirty, not expensive; Just a normal car. The only thing strange about it was despite the old exterior, the seat coverings, foot-wells, the whole interior, looked completely new. Same with the inside of the boot when Liam had closed it and looked inside. It didn’t even smell like old or new car, just a strange and vaguely nauseating mix of both. Liam suddenly had a sick realisation as to why - had he shoved Blake in there? He was bleeding quite a lot, and blood covered seats wouldn’t be great if someone looked in the window. He wondered how often he had replaced them. Did he have to go to a specific place? Surely going to a normal garage with blood stains in a car would raise some questions.

Keanan merged onto the motorway, and Liam distracted himself by looking at the plants Lining the road and scanning for birds. He felt immature, but this was the first time he’d seen outside in too long and he didn’t want to waste it. Who knew how long would pass before this could happen again, if ever? What if he died before he ever went back outside? He shook his head slightly. There was no point thinking like that right now - what would happen would happen, and he would just have to deal with it. No point in looking to the future.

They passed a field, and Liam saw a kite hovering above and had to suppress the urge to point it out. Anytime he’d been in the front seat of a car, he’d been considerably safer, with someone he trusted. The last time had been with blake, driving out of town to watch a meteor shower. Blake always loved hearing about all the different things he spotted. Liam had to bite his tongue and turn his head further to the window - it would be bad if Keanan saw him trying not to cry.

Can’t think about the past, then, either.

Thankfully, keanan didn’t notice, and soon they were pulling onto a slip road to head to a service station with one of those chain hotels shoved in the corner. It was long past what could reasonably be called evening, but the hotel lobby was warm and brightly lit, and the tired but kind looking lady at the desk helpfully informed them that dinner was still being served, or they could order room service if they preferred. She shot Liam a kindly look, almost asking if he was ok. He assumed that she was worried because he was a young-looking guy traveling with a clearly unrelated man old enough to be his dad, so he did his best to send a reassuring smile back, desperate to keep her out of danger from the shark beside him. Keanan, for his part, pretended not to notice.

After being given the keys by the receptionist who still didn’t look convinced, Keanan threw an arm around Liam’s shoulder.

“Come on, kiddo. I think we could both use as early a night as we can get - thank you, jane.” he smiled. Liam was astounded, Keanan had mastered the voice of ‘kindly-but-over-enthusiastic-step-dad’. The receptionist - jane - looked relieved and Keanan’s arm around his shoulder was just a little too tight to be comfortable, so he smiled at his torturer and nodded a thanks to jane. He knew he was shaking, so he shoved his pale hands into his pockets as keanan led him to the room he’d been assigned.

It was immaculately clean, the sheets on both beds looking soft and inviting, but he stayed where he was after keanan let him go, waiting to be told which one would be his. The decor was a little outdated, purple fabric bed frames, a wooden board hiding LED lights hung on the wall behind them. 70’s style furniture made up two chairs and a desk with a shelving unit attached, a small kettle sitting on one of the shelves and some stock-photo esque flower paintings dotted around the walls. The beds were identical, separated by about a foot, one closer to the door to the hall and one nearer to the deep, net curtained window.

Keanan let out a self-satisfied humm, before setting his backpack on the bed closer to the door and gesturing for Liam to settle on the other bed.

“I’m going to get us some food and take a shower, feel free to wander around the room as you please, but don’t leave.” he explained as he picked up the phone on the table in between the beds. Liam didn’t really want to go any closer to keanan then he already was, so instead he sat on the white-painted windowsill. They were about three stories up, high enough that he doubted the window was able to open more than a few centimeters even if he thought he could jump without dying. It was too dark to see more than the headlights on the motorway just past the car park, but that was better than staring at a wall like he’d been doing for the past month. He lost himself in the passing of the cars, focusing on the movement rather than any depressing thoughts he would otherwise have.

He heard the shower start running, and was struck with the realisation that he was effectively alone and unrestrained in easy reach of help with none of the repercussions that existed while they were driving and someone had already tried to check if he was ok a few floors down.

He didn’t move and he wasn’t really sure why. He was scared, he supposed, but that had become his new normal so it kind of melded into the background. Thinking or trying to move from his seat on the windowsill brought it back in a tidal wave. But why? If he got out of the room, ran down to find jane and ask her to call the police she would, and keanan would be arrested. He probably hadn’t been reported missing because of the videos, blake was smarter than to risk that, but he could show his scars if he had to, and if he tried he could probably find the house.

But he stayed still.

If he failed, the consequences would be - well. They would be worse than anything he’s ever been put through done before, and would probably end with Liam dead. He had heard enough of keanan and Blakes conversation to know what keanan would do to his body if it came to that and he really wasn’t a fan.

Not to mention, his death would leave keanan free to take on more ‘jobs’ and hurt more people, and it would be entirely his fault. If he decided to keep someone else like he was doing with Liam he would never forgive himself.

Sighing, he drew his legs closer to himself. The room suddenly felt very cold. Liam looked up to the moon hanging low in the sky, just shy of full. He hoped blake was ok. They had left only a few hours after keanan drove off with him and, judging by the road signs he saw on the drive to the hotel, it had been around four hours since then. Was blake awake yet? If he wasn’t that would be bad, probably would mean he had a concussion, that he needed help. He could die out there. Hell, Keanan could’ve lied and killed him anyway…

Liam buried his head in his knees, pressing his eyes into them and tightening his arms. He couldn’t afford to think like that. What he had figured out over this journey was that he couldn’t let himself think of the past, the future, or blake. He should probably extent that list to include anyone not in his immediate vicinity too.

The shower shut off, and Liam raised his head to see keanan emerge from the room, damp hair swept back into a low ponytail, black sweatpants and a dark grey long sleeved top. It made a lot of sense, Liam had seen Keanan’s arms before and they certainly did not fit his current act - there were thin scars from what he assumed were knives, some thicker ones that he tentatively guessed were bullet grazes based on his TV show knowledge, and one on his left upper arm that was definitely a gunshot wound. There were scars on his hands too, mostly his knuckles, but people didn’t tend to look at hands in his experience.

“You can shower after we eat if you want. I have pajamas in the bag that should fit you.” keanan said. Pajamas. Keanan had bought him pajamas. This trip was getting more and more surreal as it went on, Liam was almost waiting to wake up.

A knock at the door had Keanan getting up and gestring with a semi-aggressive hand wave for Liam to do the same. He complied, and started moving the two water glasses off the desk in case keanan wanted to sit and eat.

Keanan grabbed the food without much conversation and closed the door gently. He set Liam’s plate down on the desk but retreated to his bed to eat his own, and Liam took it as a cue that he was ok to eat it wherever, so he made his way back to the windowsill.

Liam didn’t pay attention to the food, mainly focusing on keanan out the corner of his eye but he wasn’t going to lie, it was the best meal he’d had in a while. Keanan didn’t not feed him, but mostly it was just sandwichs or soup, occasionally an actual meal if he’d cooked too much for himself but it was always cold by the time he gave it to Liam, everything was cold down there.

here , on the other hand, directly above the radiator in clean clothes with a warm burger balanced on his lap, the plate warming through his jeans, was basically the height of summer. It was a welcome change. He wasn’t sure if it was just knowing that he was safe - keanan wasn’t going to hurt him in such a public place - or if it actually was just this warm. Was this normal room temperature? It felt weird to admit it to himself but he’d forgotten what that was. He finished the burger quickly, almost afraid it would disappearance he would wake up back in the cold.

He decided to take keanan’s offer of a shower after finishing and setting his plate down on the desk. The only ‘shower’ he’d had the last month was keanan aiming a freezing cold bucket of water at him and he wasn’t going to pass up the offer to get actually clean for once. Maybe that’s why jane had been so suspicious - He must look a wreck.

Oh, damn. He hasn’t looked at himself in a month, since this whole nightmare began… he wasn’t sure if he wanted to or not.

Taking a deep breath, Liam entered the bathroom, closed the door and turned to the mirror.

He was thinner than he had been, but not enough to look unhealthy, although he supposed he wouldn’t be sure until he took off his shirt. His skin however, was paler than it was even in midwinter to the point it looked sickly like bone. His hair looked thinner, in a way? If that’s something that can happen? He wasn’t sure, but the pale brown strands fell flat and greasy to just above his shoulders. His eyes were dull, dead green. He’d noticed that after a while, his magic had begun to glow less bright when he used it and he supposed it showed in his eyes. The necklace with the dead canary’s feathers still hung from his neck, and he reached up to touch it. He was trying so hard to keep it’s determination in mind but it was so hard. The poor thing had cried and cried for who knows how long for help and no-one came, no one but him cared, and now it was dead. Was that all his own cries were doing? Was there actually any point in holding out hope if he was only going to die like the bird? He sighed, and dropped his hand down. He didn’t want to think about anything like that anymore. Honestly, he didn’t want to have any thoughts at all anymore.

He removed his shirt with perpetually shaking hands, feeling vulnerable without it and with keanan being so close despite the locked door. His torso was now covered in scars where it had been mostly bare before, marks showing where he had begun to run out of magic but still having to heal himself, ends tapering off into his skin. He ran his hands over them softly, remembering what had caused them.

Knife.

Match.

Whip.

Bone.

He didn’t deserve this.

What had his life come to, that he had these scars? If you talked to anyone from his past, anyone at all they would never think him to have any scars that were not from him being stupid and falling down a hill or something, and now he had the marks of potentially endless torture marring his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out another shaky sigh, turning away from the mirror to continue to undress. He took his necklace off last, setting it gently on top of his folded clothes on the edge of the sink.

He was quick to figure out the shower, turning the dial to be wonderfully warm. Couldn’t he just stay here forever? It was nice, his hair was finally clean, and he wasn’t covered in a layer of basement grime and sweat anymore. He was safe here, he supposed. As long as he was in this building no harm would be done to him because he would make noise and someone would call for help.

Unless keanan gagged him.

What if he was just waiting for Liam o get out before hurting him again - What if keanan got bored of waiting? What if he came in while Liam was completely defenceless, without even clothes to hide his skin? He didn’t want to get out, but he was driving himself mad. He just wanted to put his one layer of defence back on.

He had already washed his hair so he jumped out of the shower, bundled himself up in the fluffy white towels and hurriedly dried himself off. He still had a few scabs that he hadn’t gotten around to healing but thankfully none of them opened as he dragged the fabric over them. Liam grabbed at his trousers and shirt, pulling them on before he was fully dry so they clung to his skin but he really didn’t care - he needed them on right now. He felt stupid for it, how frantic he was when the thin fabric provied literally no actual preotectiong - the fate of his last shit proved that much - but he felt mildly better for having them on. He stood staring at the necklace on the counter for a long time.

Liam picked up the thin leather cord gently, and kept staring at it. It suddenly felt like it weighed ten tonnes, dragging him down into reality. Keanan had killed the bird for no reason. Keanan was torturing Liam for nor reason, and he would kill him for no reason. The bird had cried for help and had still died. If that bird had an opportunity, it would’ve escaped.

If he ever had an opportunity, it was now.

At some point he had sat down on the floor, back against the cabinet with the handle pressing into his mid back. He was still holding the necklace carefully in his shaking hands, bright yellow feathers the only spot of colour aside from the blue-green of his veins. That bird had never gotten out alive, but maybe it could still get free through him.

Bringing the feathers close to his face, he whispered a vow into the filaments. He would escape, he wouldn’t stop trying, and he would get the little thing to safety.

With a breath and more stable hands, he tied the cord protectively around his neck. That little bird had always been singing its defiance, so neither would he. Just, maybe he would be a little quieter about it. He still didn’t want to get up though.

He would have to go back out eventually, but surely he could just sit here for a moment, be safe for a moment longer? He would have to plan where he went before he opened the door, how to skirt the edges of the room without keanan noticing before he could reach to windowsill again, then he could figure things out more -

“Liam? Are you ok?” came keanan’s voice through the door with a knock.

He swallowed thickly.

“Y, yeah - I’ll be out in a moment.”

Getting up took almost more effort than he could spare, walking to the door left him struggling for breath. He held onto the handle to catch his breath but he had to do it or keanan would get angry and he was going to escape and he couldn’t do that hurt. He turned it slowly, took another breath, and pulled the door open fully - only to see keanan standing with a smile directly in front of him.

He let out a sudden squeak and jumped backwards, eyes wide and hands up. Keanan just laughed, shook his head and padded back to his bed.

“I’m going to get some rest - I suggest you do the same.”

Liam was more focused on where keanan was than what he was doing, so when the room suddenly went pitch black he gasped sharply and made a noise he wasn’t going to describe as a whimper, followed by another small laugh from his captor.

Ok, ok. He just had to remember where the besk and chairs are, figure out where his bed it and get in as quickly as possible. Simple. Suddenly the image of a canary flying through a coal mine waved into his brain. Why did they do that again?

What if keanan didn’t get into bed? What if he was just waiting in the darkness, what if he’s somewhere that Liam will run into him - what if he never gets into his bed and just watches him?

Oh, right. They put canaries into the mine to hear them sing, and if they stopped it meant there was gas and they had died. Which is… fitting. And terrifying. But if he stayed right here in the doorway, keanan would definitely ask why. Deep breaths, go slow.

Liam planted his sweaty palms on the wall, at the height he was assuming the desk was at, and began to creep towards the other side of the room. Had keanan planned this? Liam swore he could feel his eyes burning into him and half thought that if he turned his head he would see two red laser sights peering from the dark. He stopped, shivered. Don’t think about it, don’t think about him. Just cross the room. He closed his eyes.

Had the wall been this long before?

His heart rate spiked as his overly sensitive fingers hit something and he sucked in a short breath in shock - just the wooden edge of the desk. Not a human. Keanan made no noise, which scared Liam more than anything else - was he trying to hide his position?

Just keep walking.

He tried to take another deep breath but found he couldn’t - the same fast feeling that made him throw his clothes on so fast had taken over again and he clutched the edge of the desk in a death grip, half worried he’d break his own fingers.

Just keep walking, just keep walking. Try to loosen your fingers, don’t get a splinter. His foot hit a chair leg and he almost fell in fear, but he stayed upright, stayed silent. Just keep walking, just keep memorising. He had to know the exact position of all of the furniture if he was getting out.

Edge of the desk. Onto the wall. Nothing to hold you up, just keep walking. The floor was different here, slightly bendy - potentially creaky.

A sudden noise from the darkness and Liam froze - was it breathing? A laugh? It was definitely a laugh but it sounded weird, not like His laugh, like…

Like a child’s laugh. Other side of the wall.

He forced his feet to move again, and when he eventually found a corner he almost cried in relief. That much closer. When his fingers curled over the to the windowsill he had to force himself to stay on the ground rather than jumping onto it to get as far away as he could. His fingers hummed with the texture of the wall but it hardly compared to the screaming of his mind to run, jump, get away!

He pulled back the covers and slid onto the bed. He kept his body above the covers despite the screaming to cover himself. This wouldn’t work otherwise. He pryed open his eyes, fear receding now they had adjusted. It was still dark but at least he could make out the edges of the furniture now. He could see flowing shapes in the darkness, his brain constructing figures to try and force some sense into him. He just hoped none of them were actually keanan.

After he thought enough time had passed for keanan to fall asleep, then he moved.

Quiet as he physically could, Liam climbed from his bed and crept close to the wall. The floors closer to walls and heavy furniture were always less likely to creak after all.

Silently, he made his way to the door. He wouldn’t be able to open it quietly so he would have to run as soon as he started, but it would be worth it. Someone could call the cops, someone could hide him. He would be safe as soon as he was behind a locked door. He reached the desk and swiftly passed it careful to avoid shifting a chair. So far so good. He didn’t know the exact location of the door handle, but it wouldn’t take much to find it. He was so close!

His fingers brushed the handle to the bathroom - only about a meter left and he was out.

One step, then another, quiet and slow, hands outstretched. He flinched back when they hit something - the door! He managed to curl his hand around the handle, and take as deep a breath.

Then two large hands landed on his shoulders

Shit.

Liam felt keanan shift his weight, now pressing down painfully on his bony shoulders, until his breath cursed his ear.

“My pretty little bird, what are you doing out of bed? It’s late…” he he asked, voice dripping fake confusion. He knew exactly what Liam was doing.

Suddenly, the hands were gone and keanan stood up fully.

“Liam, you’re free to leave if you wish. But i think i should tell you something before you make your decision - a choice made in ignorance is hardly ever a good thing, wouldn’t you agree?”

Keanan paused for breath, then turned Liam around with a firm hand.

The hand reached under his chin, tipping his head back to look at the slightly darker black shape directly in front of him. All keanan was in this moment was a blood-thisty shadow, like all his skin had run away and his soul was the only thing left showing.

“There’s a little family next door,” He intoned, “two young children - twins, I think - and two loving parents. I’d bet that I could get them screaming for death before the police could get here. Hurting children in front of their parents is a quick way to do it. they’ll give you anything, everything, if you stop hurting their precious little ones. Do you really think a locked door would stop me?” he continued with a small laugh.

“No one else could get in and they’d all be dead by the time the police managed to break down the door - I could probably take down a few of them as well…” He sounded contemplative, almost dreamy now and Liam though he might throw up.

“Now, you can keep trying to open that door my sweet, but I would keep my words in mind.

Liam swallowed thickly.

“They would arrest you, though. They would be your last - the last people you hurt.”

Keanan chuckled in response.

“Do you really think i’ve never been arrested before? We all have to start somewhere Liam and no one is perfect to begin with! They have never managed to keep me for more than six months so far. I’d come for you, as soon as I got out, then i would go after Blake, and i would make you watch as I killed him. After that, I would someone else entirely, and it would be your fault. For dying so quickly.”

Liam went blank. He had been so close to freedom, to going home. This was his chance and now it was ruined - what had tipped keanan off?

Keanan sighed and patted his shoulder, casing Liam the flinch back with a startled little noise.

“Go back to bed, dear.”

The walk back to his side of the room took no time at all compared to the walk to the door. What was going to happen to him for this when they got where they were going? He wrapped himself in the covers as tight as he could bare, hoping they would muffle his sobs. This had been his only chance, and he had blown it. Shit!

Liam didn’t sleep much that night but it seemed like only a few minutes before the sun was creeping through the net curtains and he heard keanan move. Liam stayed still even as he felt the tall man’s eyes bore through the fabric.

He yawned and rolled Liam over in his cocoon, forcing him to look at keanan.

“Get up, Liam. we still have a long drive today and i want to get there before noon.” he said as he stretched. “I’ll get us food as you get changed - oh, and wash your face. All your crying has made you look a mess.”

_______________

The time passed in a blur. Liam was exhausted, upset and scared - more so that what had been his recent life. He did as keanan had asked then sat on the edge of a chair waiting for him. The clock on the wall said 6:30am, the pamphlet on the desk said breakfast started at 6:00am. Keanan had left at around 6:15am. Liam just sat there watching the second hand tick, trying not to think. Keanan had locked the door when he left, but liam wouldn’t have tried. He could hear the two kids next door giggling and trying not to wake up their parents.

If he was ever going to escape he would have to be very far away from everyone else.

Keanan came back about five minutes later, and started packing up the few things he’d gotten out. Liam stayed still, so tense he may as well have been made of the same material as the chair. At 6:40 and five seconds, keanan tapped him on the shoulder and told him it was time to go.

There was no one at the reception desk when they went through the lobby.

There was no one in the car park apart from them.

Keanan put Liam in the passenger seat, rambling about how Liam was going to love the new house and ‘it was a shame he would only see one or two rooms of it, but there was so much to do and oh he did like a project’, and Liam tuned him out.

Keanan shut up at some point, and eventually pulled over.

The site was empty, a layby on a rarely used road, but Liam couldn’t see a house, but keanan got out anyway - had he said something when they arrived?

Keanan yanked open Liam’s door and dragged him from the seat, wrestling him out of the still done up seatbelt. Liam panicked and started flailing around, unsure of what was going on. A sharp crack had him on the floor with a grunt of pain, keanan split knuckled and bored above him.

He sighed.

“If your going to be rude and ignore me, you don’t get to be in the front seat. Your on thin ice after last night, my sweet so i would chose wisely”

Liam didn’t respond. He kept his face tired and dead, not that it took a lot of effort, and watched keanan clench his fists. Defiance may not be the best idea but it felt good and he needed that right now. The canary never did what keanan asked of it.

“Ok.” Said keanan with a sigh, hauling Liam to his feet. Liam made no move to help. The most defiance he could muster was non-cooperation.

Even as keanan opened the boot and shoved him in, the most he did was move his hand away from the slamming lid - to which keanan paused mid-slam, and glared.

Then it was back to darkness for who knows how long.

#my stuff #liam #keanan #fear #stress #emotional whump #beaten up #child abuse mention //#exaustion #whump #whump fic #whump drabble #I'm sorry that this has decided not to use the cut I put in #idk how to fix it bc it shows there is one when I go to edit the post???

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livingmybestfictionallife · 7 years

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Decrepit Paperback

Anon Request: I love your writing can you please do one where Seb and Bucky both exist in the same universe and the reader is dating one of them but hangs out with the other. Then the one she's dating gets jealous and ends with fluff?? Random idea I had and I couldn't get it out if my head.

Warnings: some language, jealous!Bucky, fluffy fluff

Tags: @yourgayonlinemom, @broken-pieces, @bubblyanarocks3, @yessy2012

Bucky grumbled as he walked out of the hotel’s bathroom wearing just his swimming trunks and a pair of flip-flops. His long dark hair was tied into a bun yet small strands fell in front of his eyes, only adding to his irritation. (Y/N) giggled at the beach going appearance of her boyfriend. Unconsciously, a pouting face fell across his lips which caused (Y/N)’s laughter to turn into sympathetic hugging.

Bucky hated the beach. Oddly enough, spending so many years in the tundra and in cryo lead to a strange, psychological phenomenon where he feels safer during the winter months. Everyone would have expected Bucky to be the most excited about the short vacation to Florida, but his disdain for beaches and the ocean had yet to subside. His complaints were always the same: too salty, too sandy, and too many people. (Y/N) knew that somewhere deep down Bucky was still afraid of his mind betraying him and did not want to be burdened with the responsibility of the HYDRA controlled Winter Soldier.

When it was announced that some of the Avengers were planning a small getaway, Bucky was reluctant to agree to anything. Staying in the tower and completing missions was about all he felt energized enough to do until he met (Y/N). She had been working with Coulson as an agent of SHIELD when he introduced her to Sharon Carter who immediately decided to bring her to Steve and Natasha offering little explanation to secure her a spot on the team. After getting to know everyone, it was apparent that (Y/N) felt the most comfortable around Bucky and he wasted no time in ensuring his happiness with her, even if that meant he had to go to Florida for some stupid trip to the beach.

“Buck,” (Y/N) sighed while wrapping her arms around his neck. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” Her voice was delicate and reminded him of dandelion seeds floating through the wind.

“I know,” he grumbled and dropped his arms around her waist.

“I know how much you hate beaches and all things fun,” she teased while twirling a strand of his hair and the tucking it behind his ear. “And if you’re worried about me, Steve and Sam will be there; they’ll make sure I’m safe.”

“Just because I don’t want to do something doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do it for you,” Bucky replied and lowered his lips to hers.

“I love you, Bucky,” she said, gazing up at him as a knock sounded at their door and Sam barged in.

“Let’s go love birds! Your makeup session is cutting into my beach time!” (Y/N) and Bucky both rolled their eyes at Sam’s demanding presence and took one another’s hand as they followed Sam to the lobby. The walk to the beach was hardly longer than a block, which gave Bucky a limited amount of time to complain.

“Who chose Florida anyway?” he asked as a gnat buzzed around his head and a mosquito landed on his neck. He hurried to help Sam and Steve pitch their awning tent as Natasha, Wanda, and (Y/N) unfolded lawn chairs and laid towels out along the white sand.

“The actors,” Wanda responded as she fell into a lawn chair as soon as the boys finished securing the tent. Bucky’s lips pursed and his eyes focused on (Y/N) with deadly precision. She was lying on a towel, her eyes closed, relaxing to the sound of rolling waves and she looked so peaceful. In the distance, as he had expected to see at some point, emerged two figures bearing a striking resemblance to himself and Steve: the actors who were going to be portraying them in an upcoming film regarding the Avengers post-Sokovia Accords.

Bucky quickly squatted to the ground and laid himself out beside (Y/N), making sure their bodies were close enough so that others would get the hint that they were together. As he noticed Chris and Sebastian getting closer, Bucky propped himself up by his hands and leaned over (Y/N), pecking her on the lips with soft and possessive kisses. Ever since he met the actor who would be attempting to portray him, Bucky hadn’t been sure if he was playing offense or defense. Sebastian had shown up one day at the compound, wanting to sit down and get to know Bucky in order to accurately present him to the public. Bucky distinctly remembered telling him he’d never be able to understand what he went through with HYDRA, and stormed away, leaving the actor confused and relatively disappointed. (Y/N), being the kind and compassionate person she is, hurried to apologize and explain Bucky’s behavior to the actor, stating that he sometimes can’t even tell her what’s going on because it’s too painful to say out loud. After that, (Y/N) became Sebastian’s go-to on all things James Buchanan Barnes, but Bucky saw their interactions as something much more than platonic on Sebastian’s end.

“Buck,” (Y/N) muttered through the smile on her face and his lips as they continued to graze against hers. “We can’t do it here,” she whispered into his ear so quietly he could hardly hear her. As soon as her words registered, his face flushed.

“I wasn’t getting at that, but if someone wants to get dirty,” he suggested while sighing back into her ear so low it was as if they were just breathing against one another.

“Sorry we’re late,” Chris’s voice called out.

“Hey guys,” Sam called out leading the others to acknowledging the two actors’ presence with a collection of ‘hellos.’

“Hey, (Y/N),” Sebastian said as he stood as the edge of her towel.

“Hey Seb! Glad you could make it,” she smiled in return as Bucky flopped onto his back and stared at the tent in an attempt to control his frustration.

“Who could pass up such a great opportunity?” Sebastian smiled. He had been hopeful (Y/N) could get Bucky to come on the trip so that he could finally get some face time with him before Sebastian had to start filming, but Bucky was becoming more and moe livid as the context of (Y/N) and Sebastian’s conversation remained unknown to him. “Mind if I set up here?” he asked as he gestured to the ground beside her.

“Fine by me,” she said in return with nothing more than a hint of kindness but all Bucky heard was a sultry siren’s voice calling Sebastian closer to her while subsequently forgetting Bucky’s existence. Sebastian laid out his towel and tore his shirt from his body before lying down. Slowly, he leaned over to (Y/N) and began to whisper.

“So when do you think--”

“Maybe tonight if we can sneak away,” (Y/N) said, cutting him off. Bucky could feel his fists tightening and quickly grumbled.

“I’m going to swim,” he stated before sharply rising from his spot tossing his shirt onto the towel, and stomping toward the sand, not quickly enough to ignore Sebastian’s comment asking ‘can he get that thing wet?’ Everything Sebastian or (Y/N) said, Bucky misinterpreted more than sarcasm is through text. On one level of consciousness, he knew he was overreacting. He trusted (Y/N) with his life and knew she’d never deliberately do something to make him so uncomfortable, but on the other, he hadn’t taken too kindly to Sebastian since he arrived.

Bucky wadded out into the ocean waist deep and allowed the waves to crash against him, hoping they would wash away his anger and unnecessary hatred. Slowly, he turned to face the group he’d come with only to see that (Y/N) and Sebastian had disappeared. “Fuck no,” Bucky grumbled to himself as he tried to hurry back to shore. He made it a few paces toward the beach before he felt someone’s arms around his shoulders. (Y/N) had snuck into the ocean behind Bucky and was waiting for her chance to jump onto his back, but Bucky had turned too quickly and now her legs were wrapped around his waist but they were facing one another.

“Hello there, soldier,” she cooed before placing a kiss on his lips. Immediately, she could feel his lips quiver beneath hers and knew something was wrong. “Buck, what happened?”

“Sebastian happened,” he growled as he tried to escape her grasp. He knew he shouldn’t be mad at (Y/N) but he wanted nothing more than to be furious.

“What?” she asked with a dumbfounded look on her face.

“Don’t look at me like I’m crazy, (Y/N),” he begged. “I see how often you two are together. I notice that you spend a lot of time with him--more than any other one of your friends.”

“Buck,” she sighed. “I love you.”

“Then prove it,” he demanded, knowing that had he had the chance to calm himself down he wouldn’t be sounding so harsh and irrational, yet he was still not able to control his tone. “It’s him or me, (Y/N),” Bucky stated firmly. At his words, (Y/N) sank from his body and gracefully stood in the sand as waves slapped against her body.

“You can’t do that to me,” she stated.

“Because you’d chose him!? Why? What is it that makes Sebastian so special?” he asked, his voice getting softer but his tone sharper. “Is it because he’s more toned and less thick than I am? Do you think he's funnier?”

“Bucky,” she sighed as the ocean water began to mix with the small tears threatening to fall.

“Is it because you think he’s better looking than me?”

“Bucky stop,” she begged while reaching for his left arm.

“Or is it because of this,” he snarled while holding up the arm her hands gently rested on. “That’s it, he’s not some monster.” At his last accusation, (Y/N) lost her patience. Torn between crying and screaming at Bucky, she allowed the waves to carry her back to the sandy shore where, thankfully, only Sebastian remained under the tent. Seeing her from afar, he noticed her eyes were red and instantly tried to joke about closing her eyes when she goes underwater, but as she got closer, he could see her jaw clenched and her eyes puffy.

“What’s wrong?” he quickly asked her, rising from a vacant lawn chair and walking closer to her. She knew that Bucky would no doubt be watching to either subside his worries or justify his jealousy.

“Bucky,” she stammered before catching her composure and looking Sebastian dead in the eye. “Bucky thinks this is more than professional or platonic,” she continued. “He thinks we’re trying to develop something and he’s being erratic. Can you please explain what’s going on?”

“Yeah, of course,” Sebastian said and then glanced over (Y/N)’s shoulder toward the gleaming metal in the sea. “I’d offer you a hug but given the situation--”

“It would be best to mend things with him first,” she completed.

Bucky groaned louder than before as he noticed Sebastian entering the water and making his way toward him. Bucky knew he had been harsh on Sebastian the first day they met and had intended to apologize for his actions, but since that day he’d been forced to sit by and watch his girlfriend fall for another man and by that point, his apology would be worthless since he still wanted to knock Sebastian’s teeth out.

“What do you want?” he grumbled as Sebastian approached.

“To talk,” Sebastian stated. “(Y/N) explained what was going on.”

“And you’re here to cover your ass?”

“No,” Sebastian stated sharply, “I’m here to explain what’s been going on between us.” Bucky’s heart sank at Sebastian’s words but his ears perked up like a dog hearing a whistle. “(Y/N) is crazy in love with you. I’ve never met a person so devoted to and supportive of their partner the way she is to you. The only reason she and I are close in any way is because I’ve been going to her to figure out the best way to play you on screen. I would never imagine trying to take her from you because that’s impossible! There is nothing I could ever offer her that would break her from you and I would never try. (Y/N) is my friend and just that. Yes I care about her, but like I would if I had a sister. You’re the person she cares most about, the one she’d drop anything for, and the one she has so much pride in.”

Bucky was floored in Sebastian’s response and quickly glanced toward the beach, hoping to catch a glimpse of the woman who drove him crazy.

“Based on what she’s told me, she’s not going anywhere, Buck. She believes too much in the good in you to do anything to betray your trust. If you don’t believe me, just talk to her. She was nearly in tears at the thought of you thinking she’d cheat on you.” His words caught Bucky’s attention.

“Sh-she was crying?” Bucky asked softly.

“Almost,” Sebastian replied just barely audible for Bucky to hear him as he trudged through the waves and toward (Y/N), dry sand clinging to his legs as he ran to her side.

“(Y/N),” Bucky sighed as he threw himself on the towel beside hers. Quickly, she wiped away any evidence of her sorrow and faced him only to see his bright, big, blue eyes filled with regret. Without thinking, he pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “I should have known better,” he whispered into her ear through her sandy and salty hair. “I know you love me, darling. I know you would never cheat on me, I just...he’s the complete version of me, the one that hasn’t been damaged physically or mentally. I’m just a crumpled, decrepit, paperback book that’s falling apart at the spine whereas he’s bound in leather and has golden leafs for pages.”

“Buck, you’ve seen my book collection,” she chastised, “you should know which one of those I prefer.”

“I know but it’s hard to believe you’d choose me and my baggage over the simple life you deserve,” Bucky sighed against her neck as his chin rested on her shoulder.

“Simple is overrated,” she said and turned her head so that she stared at his chest. “You know I like a good challenge and one I’ve been prepared to take on is taming the Winter Soldier.” Bucky leaned his head away from her and stared into her eyes.

“Well when we get back to the hotel, I hope you’re up for the challenge, because I’m not known to go down easy,” he teased with a wink.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she shot back, prompting Bucky to press his lips against hers and kiss her like it was the first time their lips had met one another’s.

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #winter soldier #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfiction #fanfic #fan fic #fan fiction #fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic

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everlarkficexchange · 7 years

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Everlark Fic Exchange: Masterlist

Springtime Edition (2017).

Unexpected by @xerxia31

Prompt 1. I’d like an AU with Peeta as a single dad with a kid who’s always getting in trouble. Katniss is the kid’s teacher. Love follows :) [submitted by Anonymous]

The Aim of Artemis by @pinksnailsaver

Prompt 2: Before the Quarter Quell. The victors decide to include Katniss and Peeta in their plans for the rebellion. [submitted by Anonymous]

Reformation by @wildlyglittering

Prompt 3: Historical everlark (Georgian or Victorian era) and with Peeta as a ‘reformed rake’ and a jealous Katniss at one point… an E rating would be the icing on the cake(!) thank you so much for what you do!❤️ [submitted by Anonymous]

The Misunderstanding (Part Five) by @mega-aulover

Prompt 4: Any Everlark honeymoon fics for Valentine’s Day? [submitted by @amazinglovers747]

In the Waiting Dark (The Red Moon Rises) by @katnissdoesnotfollowback

Prompt 5. Everlark fairytale au of Little Red Riding Hood, preferably similar in tone to the film “The Company of Wolves”. [submitted by Anonymous]

Not a Walk in the Park by @booksrockmyface

Prompt 6: Hi! I’d love to see the toast babies as bratty teenagers. Thanks :) [submitted by Anonymous]

Perhaps… Maybe? by @everllarkingnewtina

Prompt 7: Everlark Fifty Shades AU but Peeta doesn’t have emotional hang-ups, Katniss does. So Katniss will be reluctant to have a real, emotional relationship with Peeta 👀 [submitted by Anonymous]

Never Been Kissed by @thegirlfromoverthepond

Prompt 8. Practice kissing - (BFFs, 16ish) Peeta gets a first date and admits to Katniss he’s never kissed a girl and he’s nervous. She offers to help him learn after telling him she hasn’t been kissed, either. It’s magical! I’d like Peeta to go on the date and realize he doesn’t want to kiss anyone but Katniss. ;) [submitted by @peetabreadgirl]

Perspective by @roseymama

Prompt 10: A coworker of one that is a friend of the other tries to set Katniss and Peeta up not knowing that they are already dating. [submitted by @booksrockmyface]

LBJ by @peetabreadgirl

Prompt 12: Katniss is trying to study in the library, but she can’t keep her eyes from wandering over to Peeta, who’s reading a comic book a few tables over. [submitted by Anonymous]

No Rain by @ally147writes

Prompt 14: I’d love to read a story where either K or P has done something stupid and has to grovel (but not infidelity)… [submitted by Anonymous]

Dandelion in the Spring by @everllarkingnewtina

Prompt 15: Canon-Divergent where Katniss realizes she loves Peeta the night before the Quarter Quell, she tells him and they have sex. In D13, she finds she got pregnant, and while she’s sad that Peeta isn’t with her, she’s happy to be carrying Peetas child. Because should he not return to her, she has a piece of him with her to love. It also gives her the strength to try to rescue Peeta. And to help him constructively recover from the hijacking :). [submitted by Anonymous]

Fight to Get Him Back by @albinokittens300

Prompt 16: Au where hijacked Peeta is told he killed Katniss and has to deal with the guilt of killing the only girl he’s ever loved, and then later once he’s mostly back to himself he’s told she’s actually fine [submitted by Anonymous]

Spin it Around Again by @moviefangal

Prompt 19: Visual Prompt [submitted by Anonymous]

Clash by @peetazeus

Prompt 20: The Amazing Race AU where Katniss & Gale are teammates, Peeta & Madge or Delly are one of the other teams. They’re neck and neck in the contest, but Peeta & his partner are having more fun because hotheads Katniss & Gale keep fighting/are too competitive. New challenge! Switch partners. What happens next? ;-) [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Mockingjay Inn by @burkygirl

Prompt 25: Katniss and Peeta are both frequent pop-in guests at an out of the way little B&B or boutique hotel. One weekend it is surprisingly booked up and the manager asks if they can share a suite in an effort to be less of an inconvenience for such loyal customers and since they sort of know each other. [submitted by @roseymama]

When There’s Nothing To Lose by @nancymay

Prompt 26: “A drabble where Peeta is from the Seam and Katniss is a Merchant but he’s still the one with the crush??? Sorry if it’s too specific ahah i just never read something quite like that ” (sent to me many moons ago via anon). [submitted by @titaniasfics]

Funny How it Goes by @thestuckinbed

Sanctuary by @titaniasfics

Prompt 27: Katniss’s father is an undocumented worker, Peeta is a sympathetic federal agent sent to investigate or an employer willing to do anything to help. [submitted by @567inpanem]

P.R.I.M: Pranks Resulting in Matrimony by @ghtlovesthg

Prompt 28: Noting tension between Katniss and the baker’s youngest son, carefree and mischievous Prim can’t resist pranking her annoyingly uptight and very responsible sister. [submitted by @567inpanem]

Calling It by @cascadingpearls

Prompt 31: “Okay so I’m in the mood for some slight angst so I was wondering if you could possibly do Everlark breaking up because of a misunderstanding but of course they get back together after it’s resolved.” (anon request) [submitted by @titaniasfics]

A Glass Coffin by @andthisisthewonder

Prompt 34: “I know how to fire a gun, patch up bullet wounds, hide in plain sight, find food, rob stores; you need me and you know it.” [submitted by Anonymous]

The Misunderstanding (Part Four) by @mega-aulover

Prompt 36: Visual Prompt [submitted by @567inpanem]

The Misunderstanding (Part One) by @mega-aulover

Prompt 40: Katniss and Peeta are enemies and competing against the other. Can be as kids or adults. [submitted by @peetaspikelets]

The Misunderstanding (Part Two) by @mega-aulover

Prompt 41: Katniss and Peeta are strangers/or enemies at a theme park. They end up sitting next to each other on a ride before it breaks down and they can’t get off. [submitted by @peetaspikelets]

The Misunderstanding (Part Three) by @mega-aulover

Prompt 42: Everlark gets a puppy/kitten/other baby animal. Kill me with cuteness :) [submitted by Anonymous]

What Goes Around by @wildlyglittering

Prompt 44: Peeta has a gf before entering college where she meets Katniss. K&P are both in the same major/dept. They break up and he and Katniss become really close and everybody thinks they’re a thing but part of Katniss thinks he’s not over his ex so he never asks her out even if they have chemistry and all. Something happens and the ex ends up transferring to the same major/dept and Katniss is extremely frustrated because she’s fallen for Peeta but the ex is trying to make sure Peeta never gets over her [submitted by Anonymous]

Mellarked by @mellarkablegirl

Prompt 48: "You just got Mellarked, baby.“ [submitted by @littleevilisa]

4 Dinners and a Funeral by @historywriter2007

Prompt 49: Haymitch has died and Katniss and Peeta , who are just acquaintances, have to drive across the country together to take his ashes to where he wanted them scattered. Haymitch may appear at times during the journey in spirit form. [submitted by Anonymous] by @historywriter2007

Why I Went to the Woods by @javistg

Prompt 51: Postwar: isolated Katniss did not sit frozen in that quiet tomb of a house, suffocating! She ran madly into the woods. It’s years before anyone sees her again. What’s become of 12, Gale, Haymitch, mom…of Peeta? [submitted by @567inpanem]

The Naked Truth by @peetaspikelets

Prompt 53: Dialogue prompt: this has got to be the strangest day of my life… [submitted by @xerxia31]

The Misunderstanding (Part Six) by @mega-aulover

Prompt 56: We know that Katniss has always feared becoming a mother, but what if Peeta starts to become nervous about being a father when he remembers how his family treated him when he was younger? Katniss knows she is better with actions than words so, to prove that he will be a good father, she gathers up some of the children Peeta has interacted with at the bakery/ snuck extra sweets to:) [submitted by Anonymous]

Tripple Dog Date Him! by @alliswell21

Prompt 57: I would love a fic where Katniss is dared to ask ‘nerdy Peeta’ out on a date and she actually ends up enjoying her time out with him :) [submitted by Anonymous]

Innocence Within by @alliswell21

Prompt 59: So a lighthearted canon divergent story where Snow’s hijacking kinda backfires and instead of Peeta being murderous and crazy he reverts into a childlike state and he pulls on Katniss’ braid and draws her pictures to let her know that he LIKES LIKES her [submitted by @elaine-spades]

The Maiden and the Scoundrel by @appleblossomgirl0305

Prompt 63: Historical AU: Katniss has been engaged to Peeta’s older brother since they were children, but upon meeting a Capitolite, the groom-to-be breaks the engagement, leaving Katniss devastated and feeling rejected. To avoid more scandal and loosing K’s dowry, the Mellark’s hurry to offer a new betrothal to their youngest son. Neither P or K are very happy about the new arrangement, P is a known womanizer and K is too puritanical. They gradually fall in love… make it as smutty as you like :) [submitted by @alliswell21]

Would this have happened anyway? by @florence68blog

Prompt 66: Would love to read a canon divergent fic that explores what Peeta says about "a lot of guys liking Katniss”. This could cover a lot of tropes: no games, arranged marriage, friends to lovers, or this would have happened anyway. Would love to see Katniss more open to her feelings and the possibility of love. Would love to see how Peeta would win Katniss over with more than just Gale as competition. [submitted by Anonymous] by @florence68blog

Together by @albinokittens300

Part 2

Prompt 69: Hijacked Peeta with an everlark toast baby in D13. Enough said [submitted by @elaine-spades]

#Springtime Edition 2017 #masterlist #our fics

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hymn2000 · 6 years

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Called To Be A Rock - Frostiron feat. Spiderson AU fanfic - C11

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Comments/reviews/questions welcome as always

Overall Desc.: Peter is staying with Tony and Loki one summer while his aunt is away working/travelling.

Chapter Desc.: Tony decides on a spontaneous night away. Domestic bliss is always easier in theory than in practice

Ship(s) involved: Tony x Loki aka Frostiron

Verse: Personal AU

Ongoing Warnings/themes/cw mentions: sickness, domestic, fluff

Chapter 11 - On The Edge Again

Tony burst into the reading room, making Loki and Peter jump.

“Right, you two” he said. “You need your overnight bags packed. Go”

Peter jumped up immediately, no questions asked. Loki wasn’t quite so eager. Tony took his book from him.

“Come on, my little bookworm, hop to it”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. Come on, you don’t have all day”

Loki frowned. “I’d rather stay here”

“Tough. Go and get your bag ready”

“And what if I don’t? What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, spank you?” he saw the look on Loki’s face. “That wasn’t an invitation! Come on, get up, get cracking. You’ve got twenty minutes and I want both of you down to the garage, ok? Move it!”

Loki sighed and finally gave in.

Peter pushed open Loki’s bedroom door, dropping his bag in the doorway and bounding up to the god.

“Where are we going, huh? Did Mr Stark tell you? Do you think it’ll be good?”

“I haven’t a clue” Loki said, zipping his bag up. “I suppose we’ll find out”

“I think we’re going overnight, so like, will it be a big hotel or something? Or is he taking us to a conference, or-”

“I said, I haven’t a clue. There’s no use in asking me: you’ll just have to wait and see”

“Ok, ok” Peter nodded.

Tony poked his head round the door. “Ready? Stop yakking and get down to the car. I’ll be with you in a minute”

“Why does he need so many cars?” Peter asked, looking at the selection of vehicles down in the large garage.

“He doesn’t: he just wants them. One for every day of the week, I think”

Tony soon joined them. “Right, we’ll take the scout. Shove your bags in the boot”

Loki wasn’t feeling too clever, but he did as he was told and reluctantly opened the car door. Peter stopped him.

“Aren’t you sitting up front?”

“He prefers the back” Tony answered for him. “More room to stretch out”

“Oh”

Peter decided on the back too, partly to keep Loki company. He was going over so many possibilities of their destination in his head, not sure whether or not he should be excited.

The engine came to life, and Loki gripped the car door armrest. Peter noticed this, and at first considered the possibility he didn’t like Tony’s driving - but Peter himself had never had a problem with it.

They’d barely gone five miles before Peter noticed that Loki had turned very pale.

“Mr Loki? Are you ok?”

Tony glanced at them in his rear view mirror, and passed Loki a bottle of water.

“He just gets travel sick, don’t you, pet?”

Loki nodded, accepting the bottle of water gratefully.

“Really? But like, don’t you all go flying about in spaceships where you’re from?”

“Yes, but I can manage that. I can do the ships, and planes and trains and boats, and buses and trams. It’s just cars, they really get to me. I don’t know why” Loki said, sounding tired.

“Weird. So, you can travel fine any other way, but cars get you? That’s odd. What about, like, fairground rides and stuff? Do they make you sick too?”

“No. But then, I can’t say I’ve been on very many”

“Ok. So, do you just feel sick, or do you actually-”

“Peter” Tony interrupted. “Don’t keep going on about it: you’ll make it worse. If you are going to talk, try to take his mind off it”

It wasn’t long before Loki started to feel really ill. Tony noticed.

“Drink your water, sweetheart: it’ll help”

Loki sipped the water weakly, and it did help a bit, but he felt very tired now too. Tony reached into the bag in the passenger footwell and pulled out a worn ikea pig, which he passed to Loki.

“Here. Why don’t you cuddle up and try to get your head down for a bit?”

Peter watched, amused. “You’ve got a cuddly toy? That’s adorable”

Loki wasn’t in the mood to banter with him. He took the pig and positioned it against the car window ledge where it could act as a cushion, and promptly buried his face in it.

“I think he’s fallen asleep now” Peter said after a while.

Tony nodded. “Just as well, really. We can make a bit of progress while he’s out for the count. Why don’t you go to sleep for a bit as well? I don’t want you waking him”

“I’m not tired. I’m not gonna wake him up either”

“See that you don’t”

“Is this why he didn’t want to come?”

“Probably” Tony said. “Hates it, driving. I don’t blame him: I’d hate it too if it made me ill”

“Can’t you get travel pills or something?”

“Usually do, but we’ve run out. Which is a shame, because they’re pretty good”

Peter looked at Loki. “I know it’s horrible. But it’s kinda reassuring seeing that he can be just as human as us sometimes”

Tony paused, glancing at him. “I know what you mean”

Loki woke up after about an hour, feeling a little disorientated.

“Hey, sleepyhead” Tony said. “Ok?”

Loki didn’t reply. He felt sick again already. Truly, dreadfully sick. He buried his face in his pig again, trying to breathe evenly. The road they were on was very bumpy and winding, and Loki soon started to feel very shaky and hot as well as highly nauseous.

“Do you need your water?” Peter asked.

Loki swallowed heavily. “Tony... Can we stop for a minute?”

Tony quickly found a place by the side of the road to park up. Loki undid his seatbelt and threw the car door open. He went to get up and was overcome with a dizziness which caused him to sit back on the edge of the seat, head in his hands. Tony got out of the car, going to him.

“Ok?”

Loki tried to breathe deeply, but it wasn’t enough. He was forced to push himself up from his seat and get out of the car. He breathed very heavily, one hand on the car to support himself, and doubled up. Tony rubbed his back as he was badly sick.

“Alright sweetheart, alright. You’ll be ok in a minute”

Once he’d finished, Tony helped him sit back down. Peter moved closer, passing Loki what little remained in his water bottle. Loki accepted it, but it had gone warm from being in the hot car, and so didn’t help much. Tony squeezed his shoulder, looking around them. There was a sign nearby for event parking, and another one detailing a little fair going on in the village.

“Ok darling, we’re going to park up and then get out for a bit and have a walk. Fresh air will do you good. Just a couple more minutes in the car, ok?”

Loki nodded. He didn’t really have any other option.

They parked up and got out of the car. Loki was still feeling very shaky and found he had to hold on to Tony’s arm to support himself. It had turned out to be a very warm day, but as they began their walk to the village, a cool breeze picked up, which was very welcome. Loki was grateful of the fresh air, and he was starting to feel a little better.

“Where are we, anyway?” Peter asked, looking around with interest.

“Haven’t a clue” Tony answered. “Now I don’t know about you, but I think I’m ready for something to eat now”

Peter nodded. “I’m not massively hungry yet, but I wouldn’t say no to a snack”

They walked through the stalls, and soon stumbled across a bakery. Peter and Tony took advantage of the coffee and cake offer. Loki insisted he’d lost his appetite, and just had a can of dandelion and burdock. They found a wall in the sun to sit on, watching the band play. It was very calm, even though the village was relatively busy. Loki soon found he was quite happy sat sipping his pop and watching the world go by, and he was feeling mostly better.

Tony didn’t want to crowd him, so talked with Peter instead. Soon, Peter gestured to the other side of the square.

“There’s a pharmacy over there”

“Ooh, good thinking. Here, keep an eye on my drink” Tony stood up, ruffling Peter’s hair. “Won’t be a minute”

Once he’d gone, Peter took his place on the wall, closer to Loki.

“You feeling better now?”

“Mostly... I’m sorry”

“What are you sorry for?”

Loki shrugged, raising his drink to his mouth. “I always feel like I ruin things, getting sick like this. I think it stunts a lot of opportunity”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s hard for Tony to want to take me out when I can barely go two minutes without feeling ill in the car”

Peter didn’t see it as a problem. “Well, just stock up on travel pills and be done with it. It’s an easy fix”

A smile tugged at Loki’s lips. “I like having you around: you’re so relentlessly positive”

“Oh, I’m just seeing the obvious. You worry too much. Plus, I think he wants to take you places. I’ve seen him looking on hotels.com recently. Maybe he’s after a weekend away. Unless this is it. I don’t know”

Tony reappeared. He handed Loki a box of Kwells.

“Get a couple of them down you” he looked at Peter. “You’re in my seat”

Peter moved aside obediently, letting Tony sit down. Loki took a couple of pills and leant back against Tony, draining the rest of his drink.

“What’s in your bag?”

“Hm? Oh. Barley sugar. And a few drinks”

“Have we still got long to go?”

“Not really” Tony said. “Well, at least another half hour. Maybe an hour, depending on traffic”

Loki sighed. He didn’t want to get back in the car, not now he was feeling better. But, he’d had the travel pills now, and he had the drinks and barley sugar to help him through, so maybe it wouldn’t be too bad after all.

The next leg of the journey was much easier. Peter started up a game of I-Spy, which kept them occupied, and caused a few arguments over who had guessed the right answer first. After they’d exhausted all the obvious spies, it all got a bit obscure. Peter and Tony got stuck on Loki’s turn for quite a while. They’d already guessed Tree and Truck and Tire and Tony, and suddenly finding anything else beginning with T seemed utterly impossible.

“Tractor!” Peter burst out, suddenly spotting one in a field they were passing.

“No” Loki said, relishing in the defeated look on his face.

“Telephone” Tony guessed.

Loki shook his head. “No”

There was another silence. Peter looked round the car, and out of the car, trying to spot something - anything - beginning with T. He was feeling very competitive.

“Turkey”

“You’re just making stuff up now” Loki said. “Come on, it’s such an obvious one”

“Evidently not!” Peter said. “Give us a clue”

“It’s inside the car”

That didn’t help much. Tony was starting to get annoyed. He couldn’t for the life of him think of anything.

“Twat”

“Uhh, there’s young ears present, remember” Loki spluttered. “Plus, you’ve already guessed yourself”

“Oi, you cheeky git!” Tony reached behind him, slapping Loki’s leg. He glanced at Peter. “Don’t you go copying us”

“I’ve heard worse” Peter said, not really paying attention to them. He sighed heavily. “I give up! I can’t think of anything else”

“How have you not got it? You’re both rubbish”

Tony rolled his eyes. “What it is then?”

“Thermometer”

Suddenly they both saw it - the window sticker thermometer on the front windscreen. They both growled in annoyance, and Tony slapped his leg again.

“Trust you to pick something so obscure”

Loki merely laughed.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see that! It’s so obvious now” Peter whined.

Loki laughed at him too. “Ok, I won that round, so my turn again. I spy with-”

“No, we’re not doing this again!” Tony interrupted. “You’ll pick the screw in your sunglasses or something silly like that”

“You’re just a sore loser”

“Maybe so! Anyway, we’ll be there in a minute”

They pulled up and parked on a private drive in front of a house. It was pretty, but it didn’t seem to be anything too spectacular from the outside. It was quite big, but still relatively cosy looking. They climbed out of the car, and Loki and Peter looked at each other, and then back at the house.

“Tony”

“I felt we needed a break” Tony said, answering his unspoken question. “I only booked it last night, just kinda like a last minute thing, but I thought it was nice. It’s only a two bed, I’m afraid. But it was last minute, as I said”

“It’s nice!” Peter said, looking up at it. “Good job we set off so early! So, is there anything to do nearby?”

“I didn’t really look” Tony said, opening the boot to get the bags out. “But the house itself is good. Fire pit and swimming pool in the back, and sports equipment in the shed. And the weathers good, so we can just hang out here, unwind a bit”

“Woah, no way! I haven’t been swimming for ages!”

“We’ve got a pool at home” Loki said.

“Wait, really?” Peter looked at him.

“Yes, but we never really use it” Tony said. “Come on, lets chuck our stuff down and get changed. May as well make the most of it”

“Ok!” Peter said eagerly - and then his face fell. “I didn’t bring swimming stuff...”

“I didn’t think you would, so I grabbed stuff for both of you. And a couple of others things you were bound to forget. Come on, key should be under the mat”

Loki had started to feel a bit fed up, and the bedroom situation annoyed him.

“Stop moping, Lolly” Tony said, throwing a pair of swimming trunks at him. “What’s up?”

“Why didn’t you get a three bed?”

“It was last minute, like I said. I’m sure you’ll survive having one night sleeping in the same bed”

“I like my space” Loki said.

“Oh give it a rest, lolly. Are you still feeling sick, is that it?”

Loki nodded. Tony sighed, giving him a quick hug.

“Get changed. You’ll feel better for a bit of exercise”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, now hurry up before I follow through on this mornings threat”

Loki couldn’t help laughing at him.

Peter was in his element. The pool was out the back, with blue gradient tiles, sparkling in the sun light, and it was a good size too. Tony laughed at him as he jumped in, making quite the splash. He emerged from the water, pushing his hair back over his forehead.

“I’d forgotten how much I liked pools!”

Loki went to sit down on one of the deck chairs, but Tony grabbed his arm to stop him, taking his book and throwing it aside.

“Oh no you don’t! Come on, come for a swim”

“I’d really rather not. I’ve said this already” Loki said.

“Aww, come on, Mr Loki!” Peter hauled himself out of the pool, grabbing Loki’s hand. “You may as well make the most of it!”

He pulled Loki towards the edge of the pool.

“I’m happier just paddling” Loki said, trying to take his hand back.

“Can’t you just have a little swim? It’ll be fun! Just, yknow, jump in”

Peter went to do just that, but slipped on the tiles, falling into Loki and knocking them both into the pool with an almighty splash. They emerged a few seconds later, both coughing a bit, while Tony stood at the side, almost wetting himself with laughter.

“Your faces!”

Loki glared at him, holding onto the edge and pushing his hair back out of his eyes. He wasn’t happy at all. Peter tried to laugh it off.

“Whoops! Oh well, may as well have that swim now you’re in!”

“He’s right about that” Tony said, sliding into the pool with much more dignity. He was still laughing.

Loki wasn’t impressed. “I’m happier just paddling. I’ve already said this”

Tony sighed, but decided not to push it. “Suit yourself” he gave Peter a poke. “Race you”

“Ok!”

Loki hauled himself back onto the edge, grabbing a nearby towel to dry his face. He wanted to storm back inside and recluse by the hearth with his book, but he sat paddling anyway, watching Tony and Peter.

He was quite relieved that they soon seemed to forget about him. They were too busy playing recklessly; racing and splashing and laughing. After a while, Loki found himself smiling fondly at them. They were certainly enjoying themselves, and it was rather nice to see Tony’s paternal side in full bloom.

Eventually, Tony left Peter practising his backstroke and pulled himself up onto the side next to Loki.

“Hey baby” his voice was husky - he was still evidently a bit out of breath.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Tony nodded. “He’s a strong little swimmer. He’s tired me out a bit. I think it’s your turn now”

“I think not”

“Why not, eh? I think it’d mean a lot to him if you did. And the exercise is good for you. Best exercise you can do, swimming”

“I’m fine here”

Tony watched him for a moment. “Don’t you like swimming?”

“I just don’t fancy it”

“Come on, five minutes! Humour me” Tony slid back into the pool, turning and taking Loki’s hands. “Please?”

Loki looked at him. Peter raced over to them.

“Are you coming in now?” he asked, breathing heavily.

“Yes, he is” Tony said, pulling him into the pool.

Loki wasn’t expecting it, and he panicked a bit, grabbing hold of Tony’s arm.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Loki snapped. “Idiot! I’ve already told you no!”

“Aww, please Mr Loki! Just one race!” Peter begged.

“No” Loki said firmly, feeling for the ledge with his free hand and making a tight grip on it before letting go of Tony. “I’ll play with you some other time”

Peter pouted. Loki pulled himself out of the pool, sitting back on the edge. Tony sighed.

“Leave him. If he’s going to be a sourpuss, let him” he gave Peter a little push. “Best of three, ok?”

Peter looked at Loki, who was trembling. He gave him a little smile and then turned back to Tony.

“You’re on!”

Once he’d been forgotten about again, Loki moved over into one of the deckchairs, retrieving his book. He felt much better for it. The sun was hot on his skin, and Tony and Peter’s antics made for good background noise. He was happy to settle with his book and forget the world for a little bit.

Eventually, Tony and Peter left the pool. Peter flopped down on the tiles, watching the sky as he caught his breath. Tony put a hand under Loki’s chin, tipping his head back.

“Hey beautiful. Are you gonna come inside for a bit? We’re gonna dry off and get changed, grab something to eat”

“Is there a shop nearby then?”

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know. I brought some stuff with us” Tony said. He called over to Peter. “Come on, better get changed”

Peter pulled himself up, grabbing a towel and wrapping it round his shoulders.

“Whew! I’m proper knackered after that! I need to go swimming more often”

Loki was much happier once they’d all gotten dressed and were sat in the big rustic kitchen.

“I’m cooking properly later, so I’ll just do something light for now, ok? What do you two fancy?” Tony asked.

“To be honest, I just want a cup of tea” Loki said.

“You can have a cup of tea, that’s no problem” Tony said, switching the kettle on. “But you have to eat something too. Peter?”

“Pancakes. Can we have pancakes?”

“Sure”

“You’re lucky he’s good at them” Loki said, putting his arms on the table and resting his head on them.

“Oi, I’m not a bad cook all round, you know” Tony said, waving a spatula in his direction. “Well, not now I’ve actually learnt something more than toast”

“You used to be rubbish” Loki said. “No wonder Pepper made you take those classes”

Peter was quite amused by this, but decided not to say anything. He got up and sorted Loki’s tea for him while Tony got cracking on the pancakes. Loki sat up again when Peter handed him the mug.

“Which one did you go for?”

“Chia”

“I think you mean chai” Loki said. “Thank you”

“No problem. What’s this one like?”

“Christmas” Loki said, breathing in the spiced scent. “Always reminds me of Christmas”

He took a few mouthfuls and handed the mug over for Peter to try.

“Ooh, you’re right! Definitely Christmassy” he said. “I like this one”

“Well, please help yourself. I’ve got loads of tea to get through: may as well have a helping hand”

“Thank you!”

He handed the mug back and went to make himself one. Tony looked at them, at Peter struggling with the kettle lid, and Loki staring quite intently into his mug.

“You two are great, did you know?”

“Aww” Peter smiled at him.

“Of course I knew” Loki said. “You’d be a fool not to see it”

Tony laughed at him, turned back to the stove. “First one’s nearly ready”

Tony quite enjoyed playing the domestic goddess. Once everyone was well fed, he stood doing the washing up, Peter at his side, drying the clean stuff and chatting nineteen to the dozen.

The scratch of a lighter igniting was heard.

“Oh, Lolly, sweetheart, you’ll have to pop outside if you’re doing that” Tony said. “It’s a non-smoking property”

“Ooh, sorry. I’ll just-”

Loki went outside. Peter watching him, turning to Tony once he’d gone.

“I wish he wouldn’t do that. I mean, weirdly, I do kinda like the smell, but still. It’s not a good thing to do”

“I know. I’ve tried talking to him about it, but he never pays much attention” Tony said, draining the sink and drying his hands.

“Has he always smoked?”

“No. I think I’m slightly responsible for it. When we first got together, we had a bit of a partying phase, lots of late nights, you know. Anyway, clubs get pretty hot, so we’d step outside for some air, and one night we got talking to some bloke, and he offered Loki a cigarette. Loki looked at me first, for permission, like, and I nodded. I didn’t really think anything of it. After that, he used to smoke on nights out, because he was always offered, and I think he quite liked the way it looked. I don’t know. But anyway, since it was only on nights out, I didn’t mind. But we slowly moved out of that stage, and a few months later I found a box on his bedside table. Even then, he wasn’t a heavy smoker. Used to just do it every couple of weeks. It’s only fairly recently that he’s started doing it more. He’s had quite a few bad days recently though. I think that’s why”

“You think he only does it because he’s sad?”

“Partly. I know he’s not addicted. He can go for ages without one if he wants to. No, I think he does it - started doing it - because it reminds him of good times. He used to love our nights out. He’d come over and we’d stick on an old 80s CD while we got all dressed up. We definitely had a couple of favourite venues. He used to have a great time - we both did” Tony laughed slightly. “He was so funny that first time. He’d never done anything like it before. He didn’t really know what he was doing. It shocked him a bit, having people coming up wanting to dance, wanting to talk and hug and stuff. He soon got used to it though. I think he liked the attention. And the drink. He was amazing, really. I’ve got loads of pictures somewhere. I’ll have to dig them out”

“It’s hard to imagine Mr Loki in a nightclub”

“He always looked the part though. He didn’t really have many clothes before he moved in, so I started buying him a load of stuff after we made things official, and they stayed at mine. It was proper stuff too, designer, independent stuff. I used to do eyeliner on him, too. Just a black liquid eyeliner. It made him look very striking” he led Peter over to the sofa at the back of the kitchen.

“So, did you both gets loads of attention then?”

“Yes. It’s obvious why I got it - I mean, look at my bank account! But Loki wasn’t high profile. He always got very surprised by it. We were pretty open about things on nights out back then, so he got to take full advantage of all the attention. He always dressed so he stood out, and especially with the eyeliner, he had such a look going on. He got lots of kisses”

“Didn’t I just?” Loki himself had appeared.

Tony looked a little worried at first, but Loki seemed happy enough for Tony to be talking about it. He sat down next to Peter on the sofa.

“You were seriously cute” Tony said. “Especially those first couple of nights. Didn’t have a clue what you were doing”

“It was all new to me” he looked at Peter. “I still don’t know how to dance. People would pull me onto the dance floor, and I used to freeze up a bit at first, not sure what to do”

“You just copy people, really” Tony said. “That little go-to thing you ended up with was so cute. God, you really were something. I used to love watching. You’d’ve laughed, Peter. He used to be so nervous, getting into the dancing with whoever had approached him, looking so cautious, and as he got into it, he’d get this little smile on his face, always looking at his own feet more than the other person, but looking so sincere and nervous when he did look at them. It was quite mesmerising. No wonder it usually ended in a kiss”

“Up against a rainbow pillar” Loki said.

“It was a good look”

“So, you let him kiss other people?” Peter said, looking quite confused.

“At first, yes. I think it’s a big part of the whole night-out scene, the whole experience. I didn’t mind, and I was always on hand in case someone tried any funny business”

“The kisses were nice. Mostly” Loki said. “But they were inconsequential: they didn’t matter, not really. I never thought about going home with anyone other than Tony”

“Exactly” Tony agreed. “We both agreed to that little bit of openness. At the end of the night, it was always us. Sure, we usually went off to McDonald’s with whoever we’d made friends with that night, but after that, he was always under my arm in the taxi on the way home. That’s just how it worked”

Peter understood now. “Are they actually as fun as they sound? Nights out, I mean”

“If you’re in the right company, yes” Tony said.

“And if you control yourself. Our favourite bar always had really good drinks offers on, and it can be really easy to go overboard when they’re staring you in the face” Loki said. “You’ve gotta know your limits”

“Never go out clubbing on your own. Always go with someone, and if you’re drinking - really drinking - make sure you’re with someone you trust to look after you if anything happens” Tony warned. “Nights out can be great fun, but you have to look after yourself for them to be good”

They were all quiet for a moment.

“I miss it” Loki said. “We used to have a great time”

“Yeah, we did... I miss it too”

“Why don’t you go again?”

“I don’t know. We’ve got you to look after, for one thing” Tony said. “It’s been so long since we’ve done it”

“I wonder if those regulars still go”

“Maybe. Maybe they phased out of it too”

“You two are gonna make me sad, going all nostalgic on me”

Loki smiled at him. “We’ve got some photos somewhere. We’ll have to show you some time. Oh” he looked at Tony. “Shall I show him some stuff?”

“Uh, no! Don’t you go using your funny memory-sharing mind trick thing on him. You’ll weird him out”

Peter looked at Loki gone-out, and then turned to Tony for an explanation. None was offered.

Loki was true to his word and played with Peter. While Tony settled on one of the deck chairs with a large whiskey, they raided the shed, and after rejecting the cricket and golf supplies, found a couple of tennis rackets and tennis balls, and an old football.

They decided to start with tennis. Neither of them were very good at it, but it didn’t really matter, even though it meant they spent twice as much time running after the ball than actually hitting it. The afternoon was quickly turning into evening, the sky turning dusky. They didn’t really notice. Eventually the inevitable happened, and the ball landed in the pool.

“I can get that” Peter said determinedly, seeing that it was floating quite close to the edge.

He knelt down by the side of the pool, trying to retrieve the ball. He overreached, and toppled into the pool fully clothed. Loki absolutely lost it, and even Tony started laughing despite himself. Peter wasn’t very happy.

“It’s not funny!”

“It really is!” Loki grinned, holding out a hand to him.

Peter took his hand - and tugged hard, pulling Loki down into the pool. It took him by surprise, and he fell awkwardly, plunging into the water and swallowing a bucketful as he did so. He fought clumsily, the water rushing in his ears. It took him a good seven seconds to resurface, though it felt a lot longer. He grabbed at the side of the pool, trying to cough, but not quite managing it. Tony came over, pulling him back to dry land and thumping him on the back a couple of times. Loki coughed and spluttered, initially bringing up a fair amount of water.

“Ew”

Tony glared at Peter, but quickly turned his attention back to Loki. He continued to pat his back as he stopped coughing, shushing him gently.

“Alright sweetheart?” he helped Loki into a more upright position. “Don’t keep your mouth open next time”

Loki smiled weakly, but it didn’t last long. He was shaking all over and still felt quite panicked, and his throat hurt. Peter had crawled over to them.

“Are you alright?”

Loki shoved him in the chest, knocking him back into the pool.

“Mm. You deserved that” Tony said, watching Peter’s annoyed face as he pulled himself out of the pool once again. “I think that’s enough excitement for one day. Back indoors, both of you. Go and get into your night stuff”

Loki hadn’t packed any nightclothes, but he searched through Tony’s bag and soon found his old, barely-worn silky pyjamas. He dried off as best he could with shaking hands and got changed. He was still a bit quivery when he went down to the kitchen where Tony was.

“How’s your throat?”

“Feels weird. Kind of hollow”

Tony nodded, grabbing a jar and spoon and coming over to him. “Here, have a bit of this”

“What is it?”

“Honey. It’ll help, I promise”

Loki wasn’t convinced, but he let Tony give it to him anyway - and was surprised to find that it did indeed help. Tony smiled at him.

“Better? You are alright, aren’t you? You’re still shaking”

“I’m just still feeling quite shaken up”

“I’ll bet. You gave me a bit of a fright:- for a moment I thought I’d have to jump in after you. I think it took us both by surprise” Tony gave him a hug. “You’re not hurt at all, are you?”

Loki shook his head. “No, I’m not hurt”

“Good. I did worry a bit. It’s not nice, is it? Choking”

Loki just looked at him. Tony let go of him for a moment, grabbing a towel.

“Let’s get your hair dried, ok?”

For once, Loki didn’t protest it. Given the situation, Tony wasn’t as rough as usual.

Peter came down to the kitchen not long afterwards.

“Sorry I pulled you in, Mr Loki, sir”

“Oh, it was just a bit of fun. I know you didn’t mean it maliciously. Still, I’d rather you didn’t do it again”

“It was very silly of you” Tony said. “Although I must admit, it could’ve been pretty funny, if it hadn’t’ve gone wrong”

Peter turned and put the kettle on, not sure if it would be wise to say anything.

“Here, Peter, grab the comb out of that bag for me, would you?”

Peter did as he was asked. Tony took the comb from him, gave Loki’s hair one last rub, and chucked the towel aside.

“It’s getting pretty long again” Tony said, dragging the comb through his hair. “Best make you an appointment soon: you’ve neglected it for long enough”

Loki wasn’t really listening. He was still trying to calm his nerves, and it was taking a lot of effort. Peter came over, handing him a mug of tea.

“Peace offering?”

Loki took the mug from him. “Thank you. I already got my revenge anyway”

“What has he given you?” Tony asked, putting the comb down.

“Earl Grey”

Tony nodded approvingly. “A good choice for an apology”

“Mr Loki, can I ask you something?”

“Not now, Peter” Tony said firmly. “Right, living room, both of you”

Tony lit the fire and sat Loki and Peter down on the rug in front of it. He went through the shelves of board games, finally selecting snakes and ladders and plonking the box down on the rug.

“Right, have a little game and try not to injure each other while I get tea started, ok?” Tony gave them both a quick squeeze and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Peter set the board up.

“What colour do you want to be?”

“I don’t mind” Loki said, moving closer to the fire.

“Hmm. You can be green then. I’ll be red” Peter said, placing both game pieces on the starting point. “Mind if I start?”

“Be my guest”

They played quietly for quite a while, the only sounds being the clatter of the dice and the tapping of the playing pieces. Eventually Loki broke the silence.

“What did you want to ask me?”

“Huh?” Peter looked up. “Oh! Um, well, it wasn’t really a question; more an observation”

Loki looked at him, gesturing for him to continue.

Peter swallowed. “You can’t swim, can you?”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous! Of course I can swim” Loki scoffed indignantly. “I just didn’t want to swim earlier”

“Sorry, I just thought-”

“Well you thought wrong” Loki snapped, getting quite irate. “It’s your turn again”

They finished the game in silence, even though neither of them really felt like playing any more. Loki won.

“Want to play again?”

“Not especially”

“No, me neither...” Peter packed the game back into its box. “We could find something else to play. Something else to do”

“I think we’ve had enough games for one day” Loki said, lying down on his back on the rug, close to the fire. “I’m tired”

“You’ll burn yourself if you’re not careful” Peter said. Loki didn’t reply. “I’m tired too”

It had been a long day. Packing that morning felt like it had happened days ago. Peter looked at Loki for a moment. He shuddered a bit and crawled over, flopping on Loki’s chest. Loki sighed, but put his arms round the boy anyway.

Tony was reluctant to disturb them when he saw them curled up together. Still, he walked over and knelt beside them, giving them a little shake. They soon woke up, whining tiredly.

“Come on you two, tea’s ready”

Peter sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. “I’m too tired to eat”

“Hey, I’ve been slaving over that stove so you’re both gonna appreciate my efforts, ok?” he ruffled Peter’s hair. “Come on lolly, up you get”

Loki didn’t want to move away from the fire, but he was hungry enough to give in and go out to the kitchen. He and Peter sat on the bench at the big dining table, both half-asleep. Nothing quite felt real. Tony had made one of his specialities - a pasta dish with red pepper and chorizo. It was one of Loki’s favourites, so he was quite happy settling down to it, still feeling like he was wandering through a type of dream world.

After their very quiet meal, Loki and Peter sat back quite contentedly, leaning against each other and fighting to keep their eyes open. Tony stood up and touched Peter’s face gently.

“I think it’s bedtime for little spider-people” he said gently.

Peter nodded slowly. He wriggled round and knelt up a bit on the bench, giving Loki a quick, clumsy kiss. Loki gave him a hug in return.

“G’night, Mr Loki” he said sleepily, standing up and giving Tony a quick hug. “G’night, Mr Stark”

“Goodnight, kiddo” Tony said, giving him a gentle push towards the kitchen door. “Sleep well”

Tony turned back to Loki, who seemed a little absent.

“I think it’s nearly bedtime for Loki’s as well” he said, giving him a hug. “You look wiped out”

“I feel it” Loki mumbled, resting his head on Tony’s chest. “It’s kinda nice”

Tony kissed the top of his head. “Go on; you head up. I’ll just tidy up down here and then I’ll be with you”

Loki brushed his teeth sleepily and crawled into bed. It felt unbelievably soft, and Loki was unbelievably sleepy. He turned onto his side and grabbed his book, hoping to keep himself awake until Tony came up.

Tony finished up downstairs, locked up and turned the lights off. Once upstairs, he checked on Peter. Finding him fast asleep, he went to the other room.

“Kids knocked out” Tony said, closing the door. “Anyway, I was thinking - oh. Looks like you’ve gone the same way”

Loki had lost his fight with sleep. Tony smiled fondly, going over to the bed.

“Tired yourself out today, didn’t you?” Tony took the book from him, putting it on the bedside table, and pulled the covers up over him properly.

Tony changed into his nightclothes, turned the lamp on, and the big light off. He climbed into bed, cuddling up close to Loki, wrapping an arm round him and kissing his forehead.

“Goodnight sweetheart”

#my writing #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #frostiron #more fluff fuck yeah

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