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after-witch · 3 years

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Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Title: Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Synopsis: You’ve broken up with Ransom Drysdale, and you mean it this time. But the freedom that comes with the breakup leads to a series of unexpected coincidences that leave you wondering: was it worth the price?

Word Count: 8955

notes: yandere, mentions of physical abuse, financial abuse, comfort sweaters

Nothing lasts forever. Not even relationships--and certainly not love. What might start off as an intense, passionate relationship can (and did, in your case) eventually fizzle; things that you were willing to overlook when you were absolutely besotted would wear down with time, and eventually they became too much to ignore.

That’s what you tell yourself, what you remind yourself, in the moment after you tell him:

“It’s over, Ransom. We’re done. I’m leaving.”

It couldn’t last forever. Not with his inability to stay sober, not with his tendency to cheat on you with meaningless flings that somehow hurt more than any steamy single-minded affair. Not with his flare-ups of controlling tendencies that left you in tears on the bathroom floor as he asked you to please stop dressing like a slut in front of his family, is that too hard to ask?

You’d asked him to change. He swore he would; he never did. You forgave him, more than once, more times than you could count. But enough was enough. Maybe he thought you were too weak to leave him, especially three years into your relationship, when your lives were becoming so integrated, pushing you towards a potential permanent future. It was a future that left you feeling numb and anxious. Stuck in a marriage with someone who wanted to stay with you but treated you horribly, all the same. And that wasn’t even getting into the family dynamics that left your head spinning.

He stares at you now, and his mouth opens just a little bit in what you know is going to be a barrage of questions, insults, maybe even threats spurred on by your words. But instead he closes his mouth and shakes his head, letting out a soft, bitter chuckle.

“Well, damn. This sucks.” You can see the indent of his tongue in his cheek before he clicks and shrugs. “Guess that’s it then. Need help packing your shit or what?”

His response is so blasé that you’re genuinely shocked and, you must admit, a little hurt. He didn’t even ask for a second chance or beg you to stay or argue with you about your terrible timing because our-vacation-to-Hawaii-is-coming-up. So it’s your turn to look surprised, and you shake your head.

“No, I… already took care of it. It’s at a storage locker.” You didn’t have family left, and your close friends had pulled away from you one by one once you stayed with Ransom time and time again--so you’d had to pay movers to help you pack and transport everything to storage over the weekend, while Ransom was away and you were free to make a clean breakup.

He nods, sticks his hand inside his jacket pockets. He’s looking around the room, avoiding direct eye contact in a clear show of his discomfort. It’s weird seeing Ransom like this--the normally self-assured, cocky Ransom, looking for any excuse not to look at you.

“So… see ya around?” His tone is sincere, if still confused. The idea of you leaving must have really never crossed his mind. The look on his face when he finally faces you again appears genuinely puzzled.

He sticks out his hand and it feels almost comical for things to end this way, particularly considering the nights you’d spent imagining some big blow up, some big fight with Ransom screaming and you firing off the many reasons why it had to end no matter what he said.

But it didn’t go the way you expected at all. It was calm. Easy. A clean break-up.

So you shake his hand and grab your purse and the small roller-suitcase and give a half-hearted wave as you walk out the door; the taxi you’d hired to pick you up is waiting, car running, meter going. You would be staying at a hotel for two weeks, which would hopefully be enough time to find a semi-decent apartment; your credit score had improved so much since Ransom added you to his cards, to a shared checking account, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to get approved.

A new life, one where you could focus on yourself for once, was just around the corner.

"I'm sorry, miss, but it's definitely not the reader. The card is declined."

You've had this nightmare before. No, you've lived this nightmare before--years ago when your credit was shit and you ran up your cards and had to face the music in a publicly humiliating display with the longest checkout line you'd ever seen behind you. Only that was years ago, in a little grocery store, and since getting together with Ransom you never had to worry about problems like this. You never had to worry about the shame of not having enough, not being enough.

But this? This was happening now. In an upscale hotel. With your nice purse (a Christmas present) and designer clothes (casual, comfortable) and your cheeks flushed undeniably warm.

The hotel clerk has a tight, sympathetic smile on her face. A coworker who walks behind her glances at you, judging, and you just know he's going to head into some break room and tell everyone but yet another piece of discarded army candy with a declined credit card. You wish you'd kept your sunglasses on.

"Did it, um, say why? I don't--" you plaster a smile on your face, hating the way this all feels familiar, like a part of your past coming back to haunt you. "I don't understand, the card is good."

The clerk's smile flickers, just a bit.

"It says there's a fraud alert on this card. Perhaps you'd better call the company. Or would you like me to call them?"

Fucking. Ransom.

"Oh, oh no, don’t worry about it. I’ll call them myself. I'm so sorry about this." You turn away from the clerk as quickly as possible and step away from the counter, away from the person waiting behind you who will surely have no trouble with their card, away from the clerks giving you a passive side-eye. You lean against a cool cement pillar in the lobby and you know what you have to do.

You have to call Ransom.

You haven't deleted his number yet--you'd planned on calling him today or tomorrow to figure out how to split up your shared finances--so it's easy enough to find the number. It's not so easy to tap his contact, but you have to, so you force yourself to do it and stare at his photo as the call rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello?” Your breath catches but in an instant, when the message continues, you feel stupid. It’s his voicemail. Fuck.

You text him, instead. Emergency. Call right away. And of course: He leaves you on read. Fuck.

You call him again. And again. He picks up on the sixth call, but your heart is racing too hard and sweat is beading down your forehead and it takes you a moment to confirm that the "Hello?" wasn't part of the voicemail message this time. Fuck.

"Um. Hey," you say, keeping your voice as un-royally-pissed-off as possible, because if he did put in a fraud alert then you don't want to risk any additional asshole moves. "So there's something wrong with the card? The one that ends in 8921? The hotel said there was a fraud alert and--"

"Did you really think I'm going to keep paying for your shit if we're over?"

His voice is quick, biting--exactly what you'd expected from him earlier. Somehow it stings even harsher over the phone, where you feel more helpless, unable to avoid his words.

"I thought..." you wet your lips, trying to maintain your cool. "Look, my name is on them, so I thought send you my part of the payments until I can get cards in my own name."

He chuckles, low and short. "Yeah? What, you want to create a payment schedule or something?"

You fight back the annoyance in your tone. You hate having to be the bigger person, but your finances--your life--is on the line. "Yeah, actually, that'd be perfect. It wouldn't be for long. You know I'll pay them on time, I'm not looking to screw you over."

"You're going too pay me on time? For all the stuff you've bought, the stuff I’ve bought for you, this hotel room and god knows what else? How are you going to afford all that?"

He knows you recently earned a promotion at your work. He knows this, because you were so excited about it, and his half-assed congratulations over lukewarm leftovers left you feeling bitter and sad and useless. So you can't help it when bitterness seeps into your voice with your answer. "You know I just got a promotion."

"Did you?" It's said in such a casual tone that it gives you pause, but a moment later he simply hangs up on you.

Fucking. Ransom.

You shove your phone back into your purse, and the clerks at the counter are staring at you. Sweat has trickled down your back and your shirt sticks to your skin ever-so-slightly as you pull away from the pillar and approach the counter, awkward smile and cheeks hot.

"There is an issue with the card, they're working on it, so I’ll just call for a new reservation when it's fixed. I'm so sorry for the mix up!" Your voice is so peppy and high-pitched and fake and you feel like you’re back at your old job, feet aching with falling apart shoes, forced to deal with people returning old toasters laden with crumbs, calming they’d “just bought it the day before and it didn’t work.”

"Of course," the clerk says, and you know this is hotel clerk code for "You're a shitty liar."

You roll your suitcase out of the lobby with tears in your eyes and you shove your sunglasses on as soon as you've cleared the building. You feel exhausted, drained--so you use what little energy you have left to start googling for cheap motels.

The room smells musty. You pin the plastic sheet you’d snagged at a dollar store over the comforter and pray it will be enough to protect you from whatever is on the likely unwashed fabric. The TV is broken, there’s no WIFi, and there’s a few suspicious stains on the floor that make you wonder if this hotel has ever been featured in a porno, true crime show, or both.

But it’s all you could afford with the cash in your wallet. You only had enough cash on hand for 2 nights at a ragtag hotel that offers nightly and hourly rates. You didn’t dare use your debit card or any credit cards with Ransom’s name or information on them.

You just need some sleep. A good night’s sleep to feel renewed and ready to tackle retaking your life, bit by bit. In the morning, you need to go to the bank and withdraw your money from the joint bank account. Then you can reopen an account in your name, get a new debit card, and apply for a few credit cards afterwards.

Sure, it would have been nicer to do this without Ransom being an asshole. But deep down, you suspected he wouldn’t let you have a clean, lets-still-be-friends type of break. Not after all the times he’d pressured you into staying, manipulating you with words and gifts and promises, promises. Promises that were worth shit.

The sheet crinkles underneath you as you scroll through your messages. You’d texted a few formerly close friends about the breakup earlier, hoping that they’d maybe want to reconnect. So far, you’d been left on read, blocked, and received only one response: “New number, who is this?”

So much for that. Not that you can blame them. There are only so many times they can rush over for a late night intervention in which you tell them every horrible thing Ransom does (he’s controlling, he doesn’t want me to meet with friends without permission, he tells me what I can and can’t wear, he cheats, he lies, he pushed me--)--before they get tired of you returning to him, again and again and again.

The only one who’d been texting you recently--okay, for the past year--had been Ransom. Mostly dick pics. And demands for you to send him something back, which you always did after a while, because you didn’t want to deal annoyed texts or voice messages accusing you of clearly cheating on him or hating him because why else wouldn’t you be willing to send him so much as a sexy selfie to your boyfriend?

But in between those, there were conversations. Sometimes sweet ones, sometimes thoughtful ones that always made you remember why you fell hard for him in the first place. Late night conversations from when he was off on trips. You try not to wonder if he was fucking someone on each of these trips, if while you were sending him a late night ramble about a TV show and he was humoring you with jokes and quips, he was actually snuggled up with someone else. Laying in bed, naked, laughing at your dumb ass waiting at home.

The not-so-sweet conversations were ones that you had screenshotted and sent to your friends more than once, before they pulled themselves away. Texts asking where you were. Asking who you ate lunch with, and whether or not you were fucking them. Asking why your new office was connected to a certain co-worker’s, and how many blowjobs you had to give to get said new office because you didn’t tell him about the new office until after you were moved in, so you were clearly hiding him. Asking you to send him outfit pics so he could approve them or make you change if they were too slutty or not slutty enough or if you were only clearly wearing that halter dress to try to get with the bartender.

Yet your mind had always returned to the nice Ransom, the Ransom who made you laugh and squeezed you hard when had a shitty day of work and let you bury your face in his sweater as you snuggled on the couch. Maybe that’s why it took so long to leave. You were waiting for him to stop being Ransom and start being the fantasy of Ransom you’d conjured in your head.

Your eyes feel heavy so you plug in your phone, turn the sound off, and lay down on the uncomfortable plastic sheet that crinkled over the pillows. It feels strange to lay on a lumpy mattress covered in plastic, after years of custom-made beds and memory foam pillows and all the other luxuries that Ransom was able to provide.

You try not to think about it too much. While you won’t exactly be indulging in all the luxuries you had with Ransom, but your job pays you well, and you won’t ever have to go back to living hand-to-mouth like you did before. You won’t have to worry about late bills and debt collectors and landlords who come late at night and demand inspections while you’re in your pajamas.

You have work in the morning. You have to get to the bank in the morning. Your thoughts are still buzzing with anxiety as you fall into an uneasy slumber.

“I’m sorry, but the account has been closed.”

You feel years of customer service training cracking underneath your skin. You can’t freak out. If you freak out, they won’t feel inclined to go the extra mile. You know this, from firsthand experience.

So you take a shaky breath. “Um, this just--it isn’t possible. It’s a joint account. I’m on the account. There was money in there, you can check--”

“I’m sorry, but the funds were transferred and account has been closed by the other account holder. There’s nothing I can do. I suggest contacting the other party in the account.”

You swallow and nod and walk away, this time having been smart enough to keep your sunglasses on to hide your humiliated expression. Why didn’t you insist on having your own account? Ransom said it was better to keep it joint, so you could just buy stuff whenever you wanted. You’d agreed because it was so generous, something you’d never thought possible at the time, when you were used to having to pay overdraft fees and cringing whenever you checked your balance.

Your fingers tremble as you bring up his contact on your phone. You tap. No answer.

You don’t have time to call him two, three, ten times--you have to get to work. So you steady your nerves. You breathe in, you breathe out. You get in your car and plug your phone in and decide to contact your lawyer. Fuck--your lawyer was Ransom's lawyer. But the anxiety eases when you remember that you’d paid him a retainer fee months ago, and Ransom couldn’t do anything about that. You could at least get a basic consult out of the retainer.

The call ringing sounds muffled through your car’s speaker but it isn’t long before someone answers, and you’re transferred to the lawyer Ransom insisted you have--gotta have a lawyer when you have money, babe--and that you hadn’t spoken to in ages.

“Hi,” you say, voice artificially bright, “this is--”

You don’t get a chance to finish.

“I know who this is.” The lawyer sounds tired, and his tone is curt and clipped. “I’m sorry. I’m no longer able to provide you with any legal counsel.”

You almost miss a red light and regret calling the office while you were driving.

“Is this about the debit card? Because I paid the retainer months ago--”

“The retainer has been refunded into the connected checking account.”

Your voice looses its artificial cheeriness and you stumble over your words in frustration. “That’s--it’s--it was a joint account, which is why I called, Ransom drained it and took everything. Isn’t there something we can do, because that was my money too and--”

“I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel.”

You want to cry. You hate crying, as an adult. It makes you feel weak. Especially on the phone.

“I don’t understand. Why was the retainer refunded? Did--did someone call you?”

He clears his throat into the phone. “I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel. Goodbye.”

He hangs up. Your hands shake.

You pull into the parking lot of your work and park the car and as soon as you do, you hunch yourself over the steering wheel and simply shake in frustration.

You have no bank account. Ransom drained it. You have no credit cards. Ransom blocked them. You couldn’t even talk to a lawyer, because--shock--Ransom made sure you couldn’t. Everything was in Ransom’s name. He insisted on adding you to his accounts, closing out your own paltry ones; insisted that he pay off your credit card debt, and making you close those, too, instead adding you to his cards. It was all to help you out, he said, at the time.

Wasn’t it? He was shockingly not judgmental about the state of your finances, and while you’d put up some protest, you didn’t exactly argue with him when he suggested wiping your debts clean and getting your credit back up. And considering that he wasn’t immune to needing a bail-out now and then (late night calls to his grandfather, snarky comments at his parent’s dinner table, come to mind) maybe he could sympathize with being in over your head. Even if your issues were rooted in poverty and shitty jobs and his were rooted in a total lack of financial discipline and, as you’d later found out, a drug addiction.

Still. He helped you before. He would help you now, once he realized how serious it was. For now he was just--reacting like an asshole, acting childish and ridiculous. He was an asshole. You know this. You’ve known this. You need to call him and meet with him and make him realize how ridiculous he’s being, and he’ll sigh and snark but he’ll agree to stop acting like such an ass.

But first you have to work. Life goes on. Even without Ransom--even with Ransom, screwing you over out of pettiness.

The air conditioning in the lobby is on blast, and the familiar smell of clean furniture and floor cleaner from the late-night cleaning crew is surprisingly comforting. Here, you can forget about Ransom--forget about the cards and the lawyer and the fact that your life has been upended in mere hours. If only until your lunch break, at least.

Anthony is working the front desk and you give him a a soft, if strained smile. There’s something in the smile that he gives you in return that reminds you of the hotel clerk. Sympathetic and judgmental.

Ah. You probably look like--well, less than your best, you realize. You did pack some toiletries in your suitcase but the water in the motel had streaks of brown and you didn’t shower, opting instead to rinse your face with what was left of a water bottle you’d bought earlier and layering on more deodorant to make up for the lack of a proper scrub. You probably looked a bit tired, haggard, not unlike some of the employees who got stuck with big clients the night before their paperwork was due.

Still. Nothing that freshening up in your private bathroom--thank god for the new office--can’t help. So you hit the button on the elevator and take deep breaths as you ride up, intent on working as productively as possible. The doors open and you navigate the familiar maze of open-plan desks for the lower-tier workers, desks surrounded by half-walls that always kept you staring straight ahead, lest you accidentally glance over and see a co-worker picking their nose.

Yet as you weave in-and-out of the familiar rows, heading towards the back of the room where the real offices, the ones with full walls and doors and privacy glass lay, you can’t help but feel that something is… off.

No one calls out to greet you, though that can be easily attributed to the jealousy over your promotion. You’d been working there for far less than most of the lower level workers--Ransom got you the job, with his connections and a hefty revision of your resume and, you assume, some personal phone calls--and you’d already been promoted to senior management. That wasn’t technically Ransom’s work, though. That was all your own effort, your own blood, sweat, tears and intense devotion to each project that came your way. Sure, the connections he helped you make, the dinner parties, all that helped--but if it weren’t for your skills, the connections wouldn’t have made a difference. Right?

Still, whatever bitterness existed in the people hunch in open-air cubicles, the receptionists always greeted you. But today they caught your eye then awkwardly glanced down, or pretended to be looking for something in their drawers. It was odd. Did you look that bad? That out of sorts?

You shake off the heavy feeling in your stomach and for once, you shut the door to your office instead of keeping it open for passers-by or people needing approval for this-and-that. It feels good to lean against the solid wood door and take a breath, a deep one, invigorating and calming.

A quick trip to the bathroom has you staring at yourself from all angles. You don’t look that bad, you reason. Just tired. But who wouldn’t be, sleeping on a plastic sheet in the shittiest motel in the area? You take a quick sniff under your arms but even that reveals nothing much but a faint hint of sweat and powdery deodorant.

There’s a firm knock at your office door and you glance at the mirror for a final once over before opening it up. It’s your boss. Did you have a meeting? You try to do a mental scan of something you’ve missed, but nothing comes to mind.

“Hi,” you say, wavering with uncertainty at the threshold. Should you invite him in? “What can I do for you? We didn’t have a meeting, did we?” You let yourself chuckle, dry and quick. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit scattered this morning.”

Your boss doesn’t return your chuckle, which immediately raises the hairs on the back of your neck. Something was wrong. Shit--you were working on a major project for a seriously important client. The type of client that could genuinely make or break a company, if you got on their bad side. You press your lips together and make a silent vow to keep it serious.

“I’d like to keep this conversation private.” His tone is low and serious and you invite him in without a second thought, shutting the thick door behind you, trying to ignore the way everyone was shooting glances as it closed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your thoughts race--no wonder everyone was giving you the stink eye. Something was wrong with the client, and you were the one making primary contact with them.

Your boss takes a seat on the leather sofa pushed up against the wall and you immediately set yourself down behind your desk.

He sighs. Short. Frustrated. Annoyed.

“We have to let you go.”

The words don’t register.

“Go where?”

It’s only after you say it that you realize what he said, what it meant, and you feel like a colossal moron in every respect.

“It’s not working out,” he continues, staring at your desk and not at your face. “Since you’ve only been in this position for a month, you don’t quality for senior severance. The best we can do is to pay you what you’ve earned this week.”

Your mouth is so dry that you don’t know if you can talk. Your hand fumbles on your desk for a water bottle you’d left overnight, and that’s when you see it--the photo frame. You keep a photo of yourself and Ransom, cuddled together for a selfie, on your desk. The photo was lying on your desk, frameless, ripped in half--leaving only your vacantly smiling face staring up at you.

Ransom was here.

“Did he put you up to this?” You whisper. “Did Ransom tell you to fire me?”

You know he won’t answer. But you stare at him so fervently that he can’t help but look up at you, and you see it all in his eyes, in the subtle, embarrassed expression of his face.

You can imagine Ransom strolling in--maybe he called first--and settling in for a private audience with your boss in his office. He’d probably pull the chair up to the desk and put his feet on it, just to be an ass. Then he’d bring up… you. And why you had to be let go. Did he give a reason, did he tell your boss why a respected employee who he once secured a position for, who shot up the ranks through intense effort and work, needed to be fired? Did he even need to give a reason?

“This is absolute bullshit,” you say, finally, voice dry and hoarse and bitter. You want to say you’ll be contacting a lawyer. That this won’t stand. But you know--and he knows--that there’s nothing you can do.

Your boss stands, slow, and sighs again. “I’m sorry it had to end this way. Pack up your things as quickly as possible.”

He leaves, and you keep your eyes trained on the ripped photograph to avoid seeing the expressions of the people in the doorway before your boss mercifully shuts the door.

It takes all of your effort not to cry.

You don’t have much effort left.

Your things consisted of a handful of personal items, little touches you’d brought in to make your office feel more like “you.” A nice picture print. A pastel afghan to drape over the couch. A stapler with a floral design. You have the strong urge to dump them in a trash can, but that’s quickly quelled by the realization that you can’t afford to buy new things, or any things, at this point.

You don’t care if wearing your sunglasses as you power walk to the elevators makes you look stupid. You know someone, somewhere in this office is filming you and probably captioning it with something stupid to post to their Reels or TikTok, and it just makes you leave faster. A few people murmur comments your way, sympathetic in tone, but you’re not really listening. None of their platitudes matter, because Ransom was here, in your workplace, in your office, and he stole the thing you were most proud of from under your feet.

To his credit, when you reach the bottom floor, Anthony practically fumbles out from behind his desk and holds the door open for you. He mouths a “Sorry” and he probably is, but he’s probably used to dealing with rich assholes like Ransom who get what they want, when they want it; even when what they want is to fire a good employee on demand for very personal reasons.

The sun is beating down hard, even for the morning, and the stress of your situation makes you blast the air conditioning as soon as you get in the car. God, the car--how are you going to afford the payments? You wish you could call your mom. You wish your friends--are they even your friends, anymore?--would call you back.

You grab your phone from your purse and stare at the black screen. Maybe you should call the friend who didn’t block you. She would answer, if you called, because she knew you didn’t make calls unless it was serious. She might not rush to your side, but maybe she can offer you a place to stay, a couch, some advice. A kind word would do, right now, with how much anxiety and frustration has been packed into the last 12 hours.

But when you unlock your screen, your gut sinks. Five missed calls. From the storage company. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You tap their number and bring the phone to your ear and pretend that your hands aren’t shaking.

The man who answers is the same one you talked to on the phone before, when setting up your move. “Hello, Move’nSecure Storage Company. This is Steve speaking. How many I help you?”

“Hi Steve!” You hate how chipper you sound. “I actually just got a few missed calls from you guys, I’m sorry, I was in the office and--”

“Oh.” His voice is surprisingly flat, suddenly flat, losing its customer service inflection in an instant before picking it back up. “Yes. We’ve been trying to reach you. For confirmation, the storage locker your purchased is A443, correct?”

You fumble in your purse for the receipt and confirm the little numbers printed neatly on the paper. “Yes, A443. Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.” You’re grateful that you didn’t have much for breakfast because you know it would be clawing its way back up at this point. “The card you gave us for the storage fee was declined.”

The debit card. You’d paid in cash for the move, and paid for 1 month of storage with the card. The card that was now useless, connected to an empty and closed bank account.

“Is there another card you can give us?”

“No, but...” You say, because no, there is not. There is not a card. There is not a job. There is nothing. “But if you could just hold my stuff, I’ll be there in less than a hour to get it.”

“We don’t hold items,” Steve tells you, a rehearsed banality to his tone. “Your items are currently outside the unit.”

You instinctively want to yell at Steve but, fuck fuck fuck, you’ve been there, behind the counter, dealing with people who couldn’t pay for shit and then had the nerve to get upset with you. “All of it?” You ask, your voice cracking slightly.

“Yes.”

You hang up, and toss your phone onto the passenger seat. The quicker you get there, the less chance that something will get broken or stolen or who knows what else.

The trip to the storage unit seems to take forever, and when you arrive you don’t even take a second to lock your car doors. Instead you sprint inside, startling Steve--looking at his phone, then at you, then at the sign plastered up on the wall leading to the storage locker floors. He points. Row A, separated into 100s, 200s, 300s, and--your number--400s.

You don’t remember if you say ‘thank you,’ because you’re speed-walking down the hallway and following the signs and it isn’t long before you see it: a storage locker with tons of stuff piled up, dumped, outside the now-empty unit where it was supposed to be safe and sound. Waiting for you to get an apartment and pick it back up and rearrange it into your new life, your new “you.”

The problem is immediate: You can’t fit all this in your car. You don’t know anyone who could take the stuff for you. You mind reels for options and the only thing you can come up with is ferrying your belongings to and from the hotel. You can pay for a few more days once you cash your partial paycheck. After that… you don’t know.

Pawn your things? Yeah. That might work. You can get enough cash by pawning most of your stuff, the good stuff. Enough money to get you into a shitty apartment with leaks and a bad landlord. Then you can a job that barely pays rent and you’ll be right back where you started, before you met Ransom. Before you thought leaking ceilings and $20 paychecks after taxes were a thing of the past.

You ignore the humiliation that makes your stomach curl as you take your things out to the car, handful by handful. Steve doesn’t bother holding the door open for you. You mention that you’re going to be back on your way out, and he offers a non-committal hum.

At least when you get to the hotel, the owner sees you fumbling with boxes and offers to help you out. It takes less time with two hands to get everything in the room, and once it’s locked up you head back out to the storage units.

You keep your sunglasses on for the second trip into the storage unit, even though you don’t know Steve or care what he thinks. He doesn’t look up when you walk in and it’s just as well, since you’re only heading back to the A-400s and don’t need his non-existent help.

But the sight that greets you when you round the corner to your unpaid-for storage locker makes your blood run cold.

Your stuff is gone. All of it.

You rush back to the desk, where Steve does look up, startled by your urgency.

“My stuff,” you spit out, “My stuff is gone! Someone took it!”

Steve shrugs. “Sorry.” He points to a sign behind him: “We are not responsible for the loss of items inside or outside storage lockers.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” You can’t the anger in your voice this time. “You just watched someone walk off with my stuff and didn’t say anything?”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “If it was that important, you shouldn’t have left it here. Or you should have given us another card.”

You feel like throwing your hands up but you just clench your fist and storm out the door, huffing as you reach your car. The anger melts into the sense of loss, the realization that you only have a few meager items that you’d managed to collect; you picked the lightest stuff, first. And in retrospect it was things that didn’t matter much at all. Clothes. Hair supplies. Makeup. You should have grabbed the box with your USB sticks, your memory cards, your photo albums; your personal mementos and sentimental shit. Instead you grabbed the box with your shampoo.

At least the clothes might get something in a pawnshop. The makeup, too, on Facebook or Depop or Instagram. But it wouldn’t be enough to put you up in an apartment. You’ll have to live in your car. Until they repossess it for lack of payment.

You don’t have your bank account, your credit cards, your job, a place to stay, or your personal possessions. And soon, you won’t have your car.

You have no friends. No boyfriend. No family.

All you have $20 left in your wallet and well, fuck it. You grab some McDonalds on the way home because, fuck it, and eat all the fries before you make it to the motel. The thought of eating in your dirty room makes your stomach turn and you decide to eat everything else you bought, the burger and the shake and the chicken nuggets too, tossing the wrappers on the floor. It feels like deja vu--getting cheap fast food to make you feel full, tossing trash on the floor of the passenger seat, all bringing back the way you used to when you’d grab something from the dollar menu on your way to work at the call center.

You almost wish you could stay at this hotel, brown water and all. The owner is decently nice. He smiles at you when you enter and doesn’t bring up that you didn’t come back with more boxes, like you said you would.

You’re surprised at how grateful you feel for the dingy hotel room now that you won’t be able to stay here more than another day. Now that the alternative is sleeping in your car, then sleeping on the street, if you were lucky.

Your phone feels heavy when you set it on the table and stare at the home screen. Another photo of you and Ransom stares back up at you. You haven’t had time to change it up yet. He’s grinning. You’re smiling. It’s a good photo. You try to place it in your memory, try to remember what beach that was, but your trips blur together and you can’t.

Should you call him? If it was just the cards, just him being petty over credit and finances, it was one thing. You could try to placate him with returning gifts, just asking him to give you what you put in from your own paychecks. But making you lose your job? It was too far, too fucking far. And there was no going back from that. Fuck, someone was probably moving into your office as you sat in this dimly lit room mourning the loss of your entire life.

For a brief, very fleeting moment, you consider calling Harlan. You weren’t exceptionally close, but he seemed to like you well enough. He’d even asked you once, puling you aside at a tension-filled family party, if Ransom treated you right, told you to tell him if he ever got to be too much. Harlan felt like Ransom’s keeper--in more ways than one. You could never tell Harlan about the shouts or the occasional bruises from when Ransom really, really lost his temper--it’s not like you could prove them, anyway, as Ransom made sure to keep you away from his family when he lost control like that. No need for excuses about running into doors when he made sure you looked your best at family functions.

But the thought of breaking the uneasy stasis that Ransom had with the most significant member of his family made you want to vomit. There would be no coming back from that, and you knew better than to cross any line involving the great Harlan Thrombey.

You could call your friend--ex-friend? The one who didn’t block you or forget your number. You should. No, you will. Because what else do you have to lose.

But before you can bring up her number, you get a text--Ransom. It’s a photo and your curiosity gets the better of you as you click the notification.

“What the fuck?”

He’s sent you a photo of his car, trunk open. It’s filled with boxes, odds-and-ends. It’s filled with your stuff.

You text him: What??

He texts back: Hey. I’m in front of the hotel. Come out? Bring your suitcase. :P

It’s your stuff. It’s his car. He’s here. All reason is thrown aside as you grab your suitcase and purse and rush down the hallway, ignoring the owner’s confused response from behind his desk as you push open the front doors and look around the parking lot.

His car is parked to the side, not in front of the hotel’s glass double doors. He’s standing outside his car, leaning against it. He takes off his sunglasses and tucks them in his pocket when he sees you approaching, face confused and fuming all at once.

“What the fuck, Ransom, what the fuck is your problem--”

“Hey, hey,” he says, hands up in defense, “You’re not even going to thank me for picking up your stuff?”

You feel suddenly, impossibly rooted to the spot.

“What do you--what? You took my stuff?”

He shrugs. “C’mon, did you really think I’d just leave your stuff in some shitty storage unit? Someone would’ve taken it if I didn’t get there first.”

You swallow. “Why?” You ask, because Ransom never does anything for no reason. Or so you’ve learned.

His expression loses a bit of its cocky casualness. He tilts his head a bit, looking at you as if you’ve asked a particularly offensive question.

“Why do you think?”

To lord it over you? To make you think your stuff was gone and make you worried, sick, crazy?

��I don’t know,” is what you settle for in the end. “I really, really don’t. You--” You lick your lips, and try to calm down, calm the pitter-patter of your heart, and think before you speak. “You’ve done some pretty messed up stuff today. My job?” The last question comes out soft and pained, and you know your eyes are starting to tear up.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and placating and it makes your stomach flip as he approaches you, standing there on the sidewalk with your purse and suitcase. “Hey, c’mon. Don’t cry on me.”

You know this Ransom. The Ransom that holds you and pets your hair and offers to get Thai food delivered even though he doesn’t like it just to make you happy.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and you jerk it away. “Don’t.” That Ransom is a fantasy. Or an incomplete version, the version that pretends he doesn’t lie and cheat and hurt you in more ways than one. “Don’t you fucking dare, especially not after what you pulled today. My job? My job, Ransom? You’re a--a fucking asshole.”

He puts his hands up again, defensive, and takes a step back. But he doesn’t return to his car, and stays just a few steps in front of you.

“Look. Call me an asshole. Sure, fine, I can admit that. But do you know what else I am?”

He waits a beat, waits for you to look at him, before he continues. “I’m a realist. I like facts. And the fact is? You aren’t much without me. No job, no credit cards, no bank account. Without me, you’re just some broke chick scrambling to get an apartment in the shittiest part of town, working a dead-end job that don’t pay shit. With me though…. “

He leaves the words unfinished, but you know what he means. Flashes of your life, cocktails and smart business outfits and dinners at restaurants you didn’t even dream about attending before you met him. Phone calls with shakers in the industry and social media requests from people you’d never dream you’d meet. Connections that meant something, a career path, dinner parties with people who could offer tangible benefits to your career and your life.

It wasn’t that he spoiled you. He wasn’t a sugar daddy. You weren’t getting gifts for blowjobs. It was that his presence in your life boosted you, socially, financially, mentally, physically, in every which way possible.

His presence got you a job that you loved, which meant you weren’t burnt out when you came home, which meant that you had the time and energy to spend hours catching up on books or redecorating the house or watching movies. Good money meant you could order in whenever you felt like it, meant you didn’t have to worry if you burned dinner because you could just buy new steaks or order-in or go out, last minute, and still get a great table. It meant you had all the clothes you wanted, stylish and personally tailored; it meant you had easy access to a gym and exercise equipment and an indoor pool to keep you healthy. It meant you had a life that provided comfort in every way possible.

Being with Ransom Drysdale was like… like a little shot of privilege directly into your arm.

Privilege that he took away just as easily as he gave it. Just as easily as you took it. Just as easily as you took it and eagerly ignored the dark side underneath. Or maybe you didn’t ignore it. Maybe you liked it, maybe it reminded you of who you were underneath the designer clothes and expensive dinners.

Maybe you wanted to fix him, like he fixed you? He wasn’t totally bad, after all, he did make sure no one took your belongings. Maybe it was your presence that gave him the idea for that touch of sympathy, maybe with Ransom change was slow and muddled, not picture-perfect sweeping changes like the kind in movies.

“So?” Ransom’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Are you going to come home or,” he waves his hands around dismissively, at the hotel, at you.

You feel very, very less-than right now. You look awful, your hair mussy and your makeup mostly melted off with sweat and sun. You probably smell more than you normally do, thanks to the lack of a shower. Your muscles, sore from the motel bed, ache for the large spa bathtub that Ransom had installed in the master bathroom just for you, stocked with bubbles and salts and overpriced bath bombs that were $10 a pop.

But your muscles had hurt before, when he pushed you against the dresser.

You have nothing, and no one. Except Ransom. Ransom who didn’t judge you when you instinctively saved plastic bottles and boxes, but merely nudged you towards recycling and took you out to splurge on a reusable water bottle and proper storage containers the next day. Ransom who asked you what sort of job you wanted, really wanted, and made it happen for you. Ransom who shrugged and wiped away your credit card debt without making you feel like shit.

Ransom who didn’t let you leave the house if your wrists were sporting fingerprint shaped bruises. Ransom who argued with you about talking to men, even men at work. Ransom who held you tight at night and said he never wanted to let you go, and wouldn’t you just make a fine-ass addition his crazy family. Ransom who took care of you, now that you had no one else.

“What do you want me to do?” The words feel slow, sluggish. Like they wanted to stick to the roof of your mouth and it took everything in you to get them out.

His voice turns low and serious as he stares at you with an characteristic expression. “Well, the first thing is to get down on your knees…”

You feel your eyes practically bugging out.

“What the fuck, Ransom?”

He laughs. He always did have a nice laugh.

“I’m just messing with you, Jesus. Take a chi-I-il pill. Just grab your purse and come sit your sweet ass in the front seat. Let’s go get some burgers, I’m starving.”

Your legs feel like jelly when you take that first step, and the sound of your roller suitcase as you pull it along seems louder than ever. Ransom pops the truck and you just manage to fit it inside with the handle closed, jamming it in between some boxes at an odd angle. The handle of the passenger side is familiar, warm from the sun.

You open the door and practically shove yourself into the seat, closing the door as fast as possible. You can’t do more than glance at him as humiliation and anxiety and just the smallest bit of relief washes over you. It’s been less than 24 hours since you broke up, and here you are--again.

He’s staring at you quietly, his expression difficult to place. He looks relieved. He looks annoyed. He looks like he wants to kiss you. He looks like he wants to slap you. Maybe he wants to do it all at once and can’t decide which to pick.

Instead, he puts his hand on your thigh. Gives it a squeeze. Hard, bordering on painful. He’s staring straight ahead, at the worn-out sign on the hotel’s front door, one hand gripping the flesh of your thigh. He looks good in profile. “Don’t ever try to pull something like that again. I mean it. I really mean it.”

You turn, glance out the window, familiar tears at the edge of your eyes.

“I won’t,” you whisper, dreaming of the tub and bubbles and how good a warm soak will feel on your back, on your thighs, on your soul.

“Good girl,” he says, patting your thigh firmly. He plucks his sunglasses out of pocket and puts them on in a smooth motion. The car starts smoothly, its fine-tuned and expensive engine a familiar sound, and your hands feel robotic as you pull the seatbelt over your chest and click it tight.

“Let’s get dinner and get home. You have some unpacking to do.”

#ransom drysdale x reader #yandere ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #knives out #yandere x reader #afterwitch writes

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127-mile · 3 years

Text

For all the wrong reasons.

Pairing: Doyoung x female reader.

Genre: Exes, enemies to lovers | Fluff, angst.

Warnings: Strong language, brief non-explicit mention of suggestive content.

Plot: Filing for divorce was probably the best decision you ever made with Doyoung. Having to marry him a second time for an inheritance wasn't on your post Doyoung to-do list.

Word count: +7.1k.

A/N: This is part of the Be your enemy collab hosted by @treasurehobi. | I wish I could remember where I saw the original prompt I used as an inspiration.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you spit when you see Doyoung outside of the building where you work. "You know I'm working, why the fuck would you ask me to come out?" Doyoung rolls his eyes, and you see the way he clenches his fists. It is so easy to rile him up, even though he probably already was before you joined him. "We need to talk."

"Talk about what? If it's not about all of the shit you still have in the garage, then I don't want to hear a word about it." he nibbles on his lower lip, an habit he always had when he is nervous, or ready to explode. You witnessed it way too many times. "You are rambling, you idiot!" you do not have the time, or the faith to keep up with him, so you turn on your heels, and when you put your hand on the doorknob of the heavy glass door, he calls out for you. "Wait."

"Doyoung, I have to go back to work, what do you want?" you ask in a long sigh and he mumbles something you can't quite understand. "Can you repeat, I can't hear anything you say when you mumble between your teeth." he takes a step closer, because he doesn't want to have to yell for the whole world to hear. "My aunt is dead." oh, that was not was you were expecting.

"Which one? The sweet one, or the old bitter bitch?" you ask as you turn to face him once again. "The sweet one." that's too bad, because this was probably the only member of Doyoung's family that you always liked, also the only member of his family that liked you from the minute you stepped inside of the house when you were 15. "I'm sorry, I know you loved her."

"I thought you deserved to know, she always adored you," he starts, and you cross your arms over your chest, maybe you should have taken your jacket before going out. "but this is not the only reason I came here." You do not try to think about why he is here, so instead, you prompt him to keep talking. "She left a will, and you know how all of her children were assholes so she gave them the bare minimum, and she gave me the rest."

"Good for you, I guess, you always wanted the lake house." he shakes his head, because yes, the lake house is a sweet addition, and he can only dream of the weekend he is going to spend there for the rest of his life, but this is still not why he is here. "You have to know, that if I had the choice, I would not be here, trust me, you are the last person I wanted to see." alright, that hurts. "Then what do you want from me?"

"We need to get married."

Your eyes open wide, and you throw your head back to laugh heartily. "Doyoung, we got divorced last year." he rolls his eyes, and you follows the movement of the tip of his tongue wetting his lips with your eyes. "I know, this was the best day of my life. But my aunt believed in us, she believed in our relationship, in our marriage, and the will stipulates that if I want to inherit everything, we have to be wedded."

"That's a joke, right?" you ask and he shakes his head. You know it is not a joke, you have known his aunt for many years, and to be honest, you are not even surprised to hear that. You do not know how many times she reminded you that your marriage to Doyoung was the best thing that has happened in this family. "I guess you'll have to say goodbye to your inheritance."

"Oh come on, I'm not asking you for the fucking moon! I never asked you for anything, can't you do me one fucking favor!" he exclaims and you look around, you do not want any of your coworkers to see what is happening, because you'll never hear the end of it. "And if I do it, what do I get in exchange?" you ask in a sigh.

"Her car, money, that necklace she promised you, I don't know, whatever you want." the corner of your lips curl into a smirk, and he takes a step back. He knows you better than anyone else on this stupid planet, so he knows that this smile doesn't bode well. "Everything?" he knows he shouldn't, but he nods nonetheless.

"I want the lake house."

"What? You will never get the lake house!" he says, almost offended that you would have the audacity to ask for the only thing he ever wanted. The house where he grew up, the house he spent so many vacations in with his aunt and his cousins. The house where he proposed to you. "I'm not asking for the fucking moon, Doyoung." you imitate Doyoung, but unlike him, you speak in a much softer voice.

"I hate you." he mutters when he understands that you are making fun of him, and you shrug. "Tell me something I don't already know." you stay silent for a moment, and Doyoung, still waiting for his answer, shifts from one leg to the other. "If I do it, will I finally get rid of you?" Doyoung doesn't show anything, but hearing this does something to his heart. He doesn't know if it's relief to finally be able to move on after this, or the closure that it'll bring. "Yes, you won't hear from me after that."

"Alright," you start in a huff. "Let's get married. Again."

What a stupid idea, you both think as you part ways.

You know you should not be doing it, you know you should not get close to Doyoung again, and he knows it too, you both suffered too much before, and even after the divorce, that it will not bring anything good. You got married because of love the first time, and you are going to get married because of all the wrong reasons, the second time. Hopefully, this time, divorcing won't hurt as much.

"You look fucking stupid, who knitted this sweater, your mother?" you say as soon as Doyoung steps inside of the café. Doyoung does look stupid, but not because of the pink sweater, but because of his messy hair and the crooked glasses on the bridge of his nose. "My girlfriend made it for me," he says in a low voice as he sits down on the chair in front of you. "and it's not stupid, it's a pretty sweater. She spent a lot of time working on it."

"Your girlfriend? Poor soul. Does she know you are currently having coffee with your ex wife?" you ask, straigtening up on the chair. You did not know he had a girlfriend, and maybe it is for the better, because you would have told him to fuck off last week when he came to see you. "Yes, he does know." you hum sipping on your cup of tea. "And fo I have to expect a crazy girl banging on my door at three am, asking me to stop sleeping with her boyfriend, or did you finally find someone normal?"

"Do you always have to remind me of my past?" he asks, but you know it is a rethorical question, that he is not waiting for an answer, but there is no way you are missing an opportunity like this one. "Doyoung, we took one break in our relationship, and you found a way to date the most jealous girl on campus. She was fucked up, and she tries to push me down the fucking stairs, so yes, I have to remind you of your past mistakes."

"You are the worst." he brings his own cup to his lips, and he sips on the coffee he just drowned in milk and sugar like a kid who never had caffeine before. "So, I contacted the town hall, and we can have the ceremony there tomorrow at 2 pm." oh, how romantic, the complete opposite to your first wedding. So big, luxurious and filled with love and laughter. "Sounds like a dream. Do we have to get dressed, or what?" he shrugs. "I don't know. Wear something nice, not that ugly hoodie of yours."

"Fuck you. You were happy to steal my hoodie when we were still in university." he sighs with exasperation, he did not come here to be reminded of his youth. Of the time they could still hold a conversation without cursing at each other at the first opportunity, without wishing the other was somewhere else, or worst, dead. Of the time you did not hate each other as much as you do now.

"Do we need witnesses?" you ask and he seems to think about it, or to recall everything the town hall secretary told him on the phone earlier. "Uh, yes, I think we do, to sign the papers." that's where it will get complicated, you think. "Amazing, I can't wait to ask Yuta to sign the wedding papers. A wedding I put an end to last year." he is going to be so mad at you, and you can already hear him yell. "Eh, don't act like you are the only one who'll have to get yelled at! I have to ask Johnny, and you know how he gets when we do something he does not approve of."

"Why don't you ask your girlfriend to marry you for the inheritance?" you ask with genuine curiosity and Doyoung tilts his head to the side, and he looks at you like you just said the dumbest thing he had ever heard in his entire life. "Are you stupid, or are you trying to waste my time? The notary will not accept to give me anything if it's not your name on the marriage certificate." yes, you expected as much.

"Why does he even need a marriage certificate? That's stupid, there is no proof that we are not married anymore." he shrugs, putting his cup back on the old wooden table. "He is a notary, he is probably going to do some research to be sure we are not going against my aunt's will." you drink the last of your tea, and you stand up under Doyoung's gaze. "Alright, I have to go and talk to the Devil. If you don't see me at the town hall tomorrow, it's because he sent me straight to hell."

"Same goes for me. Good luck."

When you find yourself in front of Yuta's door, you try to muster everything you have to push the door. This is not going to be fun, but it has to be done, you can't ask some stranger to be your witness, because you probably need the signature of the same person who was by your side during your actual wedding. What were you thinking when you asked Yuta? Well, maybe because at that time, you did not think you would file for divorce, and get married to him again, a year later.

"Oh, hello, pretty stranger." Yuta says when he sees you in front of the door, lost in your thoughts. But his voice is enough to bring you back were you are, and to remind you of what you have to do. "Yuta, we have to talk." you whisper, and he heads for the living room. "Do I need to sit, or can I stay up?" he asks with the shadow of a smile on his face, he thinks it is not that serious, but it is, and he is in for a surprise.

"I think you should sit down." oh, his smile fades right away, and you nibble on your lower lip. You should have rehearsed what to say, because you find yourself stupid in front of Yuta who is waiting, nervously playing with his fingers. "Can you please start to talk before I start thinking all type of crazy things."

Before you can open your mouth to say anything, Yuta speaks again, and he asks the dumbest question he could have asked. "Oh my god, are you pregnant? Yes, that's it, you are pregnant! Am I the father? No, it's been too long, and we were careful every time. Wait, we did it last week? Isn't that too short to know? Oh my god, I'm going to be a father!"

Your eyes widen at his words and you shake your head furiously. "Yuta, what the fuck? I'm not pregnant, and we did not even sleep together last week!" he heaves a sigh of relief, and you roll your eyes. He gets excited really easily, but hecan also calm down as quickly. "Oh. Then who did I sleep with last week?" you should file for divorce with your friends too. "I don't know Yuta, I do not live here to see who you bring home every day."

"Are you calling me a slut?" he cackles and you shake your head, at least, the tension is way less tense. "Yuta, I did not come here to slut shame you or anything, I do have something important I have to tell you. And to ask you too, if you are willing to listen to me until I'm done before getting mad."

"Why would I get mad? I never get mad!" he says, offended, and you grab a chair to sit in front of him, you can't stay up for that, your legs are already shaking.

"Doyoung and I are getting married tomorrow, and I need you to come to the town hall at 2 pm to be my witness and sign the papers." you blut out and you cover your mouth with your hand, because you wanted to explain the situation before coming to this part, but you apparently do not have a brain to mouth filter.

Yuta stands up so fast that he almost trips on his own feet, he opens his mouth a few times but no sound comes out. You did expect as much. "What the fuck!" he says first, and you were expecting him to start yelling, but no, his voice is barely above a whisper. "You are back with Doyoung? Why would you do something like that? Are you masochist or just plain stupid?"

"Call me stupid one more time, and I swear to God that I will kick you in the balls right here and there!" you mutter and he rolls his eyes as he sits back down. "Listen to me, understand everything, and then you will be allowed to judge me."

When he stays quiet, you start talking again.

"Doyoung's aunt passed away, and she decided to give him pretty much everything she ever had, but it is stated in the will that if he wants to get the inheritance, we still have to be wedded. So he came to me the other day, asking me if we could get married again, so he could get the inheritance."

He hums and he crosses his arms over his chest. "And what will happen after?" you shrug. "We did not talk about it just yet, but I guess we are going to divorce. Again."

He heaves a long and deep sigh as he stands up, only to pace around the living room this time. "I understand what he is asking you. If he is doing it, it is because the inheritance is worth it. But have you thought about the consequences? Do you think you are emotionally strong enough to go through another divorce?" he asks in a soft voice.

"I don't know, Yuta. But I guess I will be? I mean, this time there will be no problem with separation of property, or anything. It's just a wedding of convenience, nothing else. No feelings involved." he stops in front of you, and he puts a hand on your shoulder. "Are you sure about the last part?" you hate when he asks this question. "Doyoung is my first love, and despite everything that happened between us, he will always have a special place in my heart no matter what I say, or show, but this is over. And he has a girlfriend."

"If you promise me that you won't let your heart get broken again, then you can count on me, I will be there tomorrow to sign the papers. Again." you wrap you arms around his waist, burrying your face against his toned stomach. "I promise." you whisper, and if you had your fingers crossed behind his back, this is nobody's business.

"Look who's here."

You turn your head when Yuta speaks, and your eyes meet Doyoung's. He is closely followed by a clearly annoyed Johnny who does not look up from his phone, and you wonder how bad it was yesterday. You would give everything you have to be able to witness what happened in the confine of Johnny's apartment when Doyoung asked him to come today. Did he punch him? That probably did not happen, but it's a thought that warms your heart.

"Are you wearing the fucking suit?" you ask and he stops, a bright smile illuminating his face. "Well, it is a wedding, it's only fair to wear the suit of our first wedding." what a little shit, he told you to dress nicely, but to not go all the way like it was real fucking wedding. "I wanted to burn it a few weeks after our break up, and honestly, I'm happy I didn't do it. Maybe I'll do it during the first weekend I'll spend in the lake house to celebrate my inheritance and our second divorce."

"What if I punched you in the face?" Yuta asks, stepping out in front of you, and you have to grab his wrist to be sure he is not taking another step. "I'm sure the suit will look way better with your blood on it!" you meet Johnny's gaze and he smiles, he has no intention to step in between them, and because you know it, and won't do it either, you smile back. "What's up Y/n, it's been a while."

"I'm getting married to my ex-husband for money, you know, the usual." he chuckles and you let go of Yuta's hand when him and Doyoung seem to relax. "I almost punched him in the face when he told me. "Johnny adds, and yes, it is basic Johnny's bevahior. "You should have done it, but I guess you still have time. Maybe you could do it when we get out of the town hall, as a wedding gift?" Doyoung looks at you, and at Johnny, in time with a frown. "That's a great idea! I'll do it, and I'll give you time to take a photo."

"Maybe I should marry you instead of Doyoung." you concede, when you enter the town hall. "Maybe you should, but it's not like I never asked you before." Doyoung stops, and you almost bump against his back and he turns on his heels. "What do you mean, it's not like you never asked her?" he asks in between clenched teeth. "Why do you care man?" Johnny answers and you chuckle.

Johnny is Doyoung's best friend, and yet, he loves pissing him off as much as you do, and that's probably why you get along so well. He puts an arm over your shoulders as you climb the stairs to the right room. "You should not touch her like that, we are supposed to get married." Doyoung says in a breath, and Johnny takes a step back. "It's a fake marriage, I can do whatever I want with the bride."

"Come on kids, right now is not the right time to fight." you say before the doors open on the mayor. "You can do it later." you enter the room, Yuta on your heels and with a pretty angry Doyoung beside you.

You come out half an hour later, your old wedding ring around your finger, and Doyoung with his. You are surprised he did not throw it away. "Well, that sucked." you mumble so as not to be heard by the mayor you smile at.

"Your first wedding was more fun. Taeyong got drunk and fell into the pond." Yuta says and you laugh at the memory. Yours and Doyoung's families left pretty early, so it was only the newly neds and your friends for the whole night, and things got out of hand pretty quickly, you probably will never forget any of it, even though you should.

"So, what are we doing?" Johnny asks, burrying his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "We have an appointment with the notary tomorrow morning, so we have the rest of the day." Doyoung says with a shrug and you turn your head to watch him. "Shouldn't you go home to your girlfriend, tell her everything about how you said "I do" to me for the second time of your life?"

"Fuck off, Y/n. Do you always have to ruin everything?" you try to stay quiet, you really try, but you can't. "Do I have to ruin everything? You are the reason we got a divorce, Doyoung! Our relationship turned to shit because of you, and you have the guts to tell me to stop ruining everything? You did it first, so suck it up."

"You do whatever you want, I'm going home, I'm tired of seeing his face." you say before kissing Yuta's cheek, thanking him for being here, as always, and before disappearing in the corner of the street, you look at Doyoung one last time. "You have the certificate, you can go to the notary on your own tomorrow. Good riddance, asshole."

You know this is not part of the deal, but you really do not want to see him for something you do not have to actually be there. The certificate will be enough for the notary to understand that you are married, and Doyoung, oh all mighty stupid Doyoung will find a good lie for the date on the certificate, you do not doubt that one bit. He is a good liar after all.

It is around 2 o'clock when someone knocks on the door, and nuzzled in a blanket on the sofa with an horror movie playing on the television, you do not feel like moving to open the door. Whoever it is, they can wait, or call you if it is urgent.

You heave a sigh of relief when the knocking stops, but then, it is your phone who starts to rind and you whine loudly. You pout, but when you see Doyoung's picture on the screen, the pout turns into a frowns and you pick up. "What do you want? Another wedding?" you hear him sigh from the other side of the line. "Open the door." oh god, now you have to stand up, and for who? For Kim fucking Doyoung.

You hang up, and after a minute or two of weighting the pros and cons, you stand up, and head to the front door that you open slightly. "What?" without saying a word, he hands you a letter and you look at him without taking it. "What is that?" he rolls his eyes, arm still stretched. "A letter for us, from my aunt, that the notary gave me earlier. I didn't think it would be nice to open it without you."

"You can come in, but I want you gone in five minutes." you mumble as you push yourself from the door to let him in. "Where is the carpet my mom bought you?" he asks as he takes his jacket and shoes off. "I unfortunately dropped a few glasses of red wine on it, and it became impossible to wash out, so I threw it away. What a shame, a beautiful carpet." of course you did, he knows you never liked anything coming from his mother.

"If you have the letter with you, I guess the appointment with the notary went well?" you go back to the living room and you sit down on the armchair. "He was a bit hesitant to accept the certificate as it was dated from yesterday." that was expected. "And what did you tell him?" he heaves a long sigh as he sits directly on the ground, like he used to do when he still lived here.

"I told him we had a flooding at the house, and that our certificate got ruined. I also said that the town hall lost some files, so we had to ask for a new one." that's smart. "You should open the letter, you only have 3 minutes left before I kick your ass out of this house."

He opens the letter and he looks at the words, written prettily by his aunt probably a few years ago, when she was still here, when she had hope about their relationship.

"My loves," Doyoung starts to read out loud. "if you are reading this letter, it means I am no longer in this world, but fear not, I will always be close to you, no matter where I am. You must have been surprised when you learned about the will, about the inheritance, but let me explain. My children, well, you know them, you know how they are and they do not deserve even half of what I have. Well, had. But you, you do deserve it. You are young, full of love, and ready to start your life together. As I am writing this, you are about to get married, Y/n is also in the room with me, she is getting her makeup done, and Doyoung, she is absolutely beautiful, you are the luckiest man."

Doyoung either takes a break to catch his breath, or to let the words settle.

"So, as I was saying, you are about to start your life together, and you only deserve the best. This is why I decided to give you everything I had. Doyoung, you grew up in the lake house, you even proposed to your beautiful wife there, it is only normal for you to get it. My car, that Y/n always loved, you can have it, as well as the necklace I promised to give her when my time would come. And the rest. You can keep what you want, you can sell the rest, or give it away, make someone else happy, I trust the two of you to do what is good."

You cross your arms over your chest, lowering your head when Doyoung starts to speak again.

"You two fell in love really young, and unfortunately, the families were not supportive enough, and made you feel like what you felt was not real, that you would get over it at some point. Y/n, I want to apologize for everything they ever said, or done to you, you never did anything to deserve any of this. You both never deserved the treatment they gave you. You only deserve the best, and all of the happiness the world can give you. I hope I will help a little bit on that. Be happy, always, be there for each other, and never forget that you should never go to bed mad. Doyoung, you are stubborn, so please, take the time to listen to Y/n, and turn your tongue seven times in your mouth before speaking, you would not want to lose her. The love of your life. I love you both so much, thank you for always being by my side."

When Doyoung puts the letter back inside of the envelop, you sigh. "I did not even notice her writing back then." you say in a whisper. "But now, I understand her decision, she really was rooting for us, uh?" Doyoung nods, and he is touched by the letter, if the way his eyes are shining is anyhing to go by. "She was the only one who believed in us. She would be incredibly disappointed if she knew."

Because yes, if the situation is this tricky is because you did not tell her when you decided to break up. It was only supposed to be a few days/weeks break, but it turned into a divorce, and you were so busy with the divorce in itself, the lawyers, the moving and everything that you both forgot to tell her, and maybe it was a good thing, at least, she did not pass away sad or disappointed. Because if she knew, she would have changed her will. And to be honest, you are not even sure Doyoung's family knows.

"She would be, yes." you stay silent for a minute and when Doyoung stands up, you look up at him. "What are we doing now?"

"We should go to the lake house, so you can get whatever you want from the house, the necklace, and the books you loved so much, and then I guess we'll call the lawyer." what does it hurt so bad to hear him say that? You did not want to see him again, but after hearing what his aunt thought about you, about the relationship, it feels different, you head and your hearts are a mess.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow around 8am, so we won't come home too late, alright?" you nod, and without another word, Doyoung leaves the house, leaving behind him a heavy silence and a lot of things to think about for you.

"I hate you."

Doyoung's eyes widen at your words, and he turns his eyes but being the one driving, he can't watch you for too long. "What have I done? I did not say anything for over an hour!" he exclaims and you shrug as you look at the landcape behind the window. The city long gave way to the country side, and you have to admit that it is way prettier than all of the buildings of the city.

"The music sucks, and I still don't like your sweater."

"You need to stop hating on my sweaters, because you did not complain about them when you were cold!" he answers and you stick your tongue out at him. "Yeah well, maybe if you had agreed on letting me keep them, then maybe they would not look so ugly." he chuckles as he shakes his head. "You are impossible."

"Can I ask you a question?" he nods. "Did you tell your parents, about the divorce?" well, that was not was he was expecting. "I did, a few weeks ago." a few weeks ago, when you have been divorced for a year now, yeah, sounds valid. "They were probably very happy to learn the news." well, you were not happy about getting a divorce at such a young age, but you were definitely happy to get rid of his parents. So it's only fair that they felt the same.

"You know how they are, they told me it was for the best, that we were not made to be together, you know, what they always told us." you can hear his mother's voice in your head, and you wince at the thought. "At least I succeeded on making her happy once in my life."

You stay silent for a few minutes, but you open your mouth mouth. "And now I'm mad, because I promised myself to never do anything to make her happy! Fuck me!" Fortunately, he is at a red sign, because Doyoung starts to laugh to the point where his vision becomes blurry with tears.

"Stop laughing idiot!" you say when you hear the horns of the cars behind Doyoung's car. "Don't yell at me, it's your fault!" you can't help but to laugh along with him and it takes you a few minutes to calm down, and it's been a long time since you laughed with Doyoung, and it makes you feel.. light? And definitely happy.

"Oh my god, I don't remember the last time I came here." you say as you get out of the car when Doyoung stops the engine. The lake house is typical of a lake house, made of wood, old and yet beautiful. The flowers are blooming and it makes the entire area colorful and it is hard for you to close your mind to the memories that come with the view. "Honestly? I don't remember either."

Doyoung opens the door, and he starts to cough when it moves a cloud of dust around him. "Oh wow, I don't think my aunt came here for a long time." the house used to be clean, and smelling of fresh flowers and laundry, but today, it smells of nothing but dust and wilted flowers on the coffee table. "I have a few days off, next week, we can come to clean, if you want." you propose.

"We?" you shrug as you nudge him to enter the house, and even if it's not what it used to be, it still feels like home. And you know Doyoung feels the same, he told you so many times that he wanted nothing more than to finish his days here, with a family, and a dog. "I spent as much time in this house as you did, it's normal that I help you. But you can refuse, and clean by yourself, I don't mind."

He rolls his eyes and without another word, he climbs the stairs only to come back a few minutes later with a wooden box. "Here, take it." you take it, and you smile when you see his aunt's jewelery. She had incredible taste, and she never wanted to leave the house without wearing them.

"I'm only taking the necklace. You should give one of these rings to your girlfriend, I'm sure she would love it." you put the box on the coffee table and you take out the necklace you had fallen in love with at the second you saw Doyoung's aunt wear it. "What did you say?" you ask when Doyoung says something, but with the way his teeth are clenched, it is impossible for you to understand something.

"I said, I don't have a girlfriend." you do something you should never have done, you flop down on the couch, waving your hands to get rid of the dust around you. "What? But you said you had one the other day." he heaves a long sigh as he sits down on the ground, grimacing when he realizes how bad of an idea it was. "I know, but I did not think, I only wanted to piss you off, I guess." you roll your eyes. "You guessed right, because it did piss me off."

"For real?" this is the conversation you wish you did not need to have, but you also know that Doyoung is stubborn and he will keep hasking until you give him the answer he wants. "You know it well, I don't need to explain."

"Please, do." of fucking course.

"Doyoung, you are my first boyfriend, my first husband, and of course, my first love. And you will remain my first love, no matter how much we hate each other. No matter how much we hate each other, I will still love you." you could say, no matter if you are married or not, you will still love him, but you do not see yourself married to someone that is not him, honestly.

"I don't hate you, you know." Doyoung says, and you tilt your head to the side. "Well, you do act like you hate me, so it is a bit hard to believe what you are saying." he brings one of his leg against his chest, his chin on his knee. "It's true though, I only act like that because you hate me, and I don't want to give you another reason to hate me even more."

"So you are telling me, that you only pretend to hate me, because I hate you?" he hums. "When I only act like that because you hate me." his eyes open wide, and it is almost comical, especially when he understand what you are saying. "So you don't hate me?"

"The last months of our relationship, and of course, the divorce, it hurt me a lot, way more than I thought it would, but that never meant that I hated you. Of course, I did hate you, for a while, but like I said, you are my first love, and I always wanted you to be my only love. So no, I never hated you as much as I tried to show you for the past few months."

Doyoung chuckles. "We are idiots." but his smile slowly fades. "By the way, I wanted to apologize for what I said the other day, when I said you always found a way to ruin everything." oh yes, that hurt like a bitch, and it still hurts, thinking about it. "It's fine, Doyoung, I know you only said that because you were mad at me, but please, don't say something like that again, because it hurt. And also because I'll punch you in the throat next time."

"Threats, threats, you always threaten me, but you never do anything about it." he says in a sigh, and you gasp. "Don't push me, Doyoung, because I will act on one of the threats."

"You're all bark and no bite."

You stand up, and you pounce on Doyoung whose mouth opens in a silent scream, he was not expecting you to act on your words. "I'm not going to punch you, because you still have to drive us back home, but I will do it, one day, trust me." you say, straddling his lap.

You only realize your position on Doyoung when he stops breathing. "Oh." you could move, stand up and sit back down on the couch, but something tells you that you should stay here. You meet Doyoung's gaze, and your eyes close when his fingers brush against your cheek. "What are you doing?" you ask in a whisper and you feel him shrug. "I don't know. But tell me if you want me to stop."

You wonder what he means by that, but soon enough, you feel his lips grazing against yours and your breath hitches in your throat. Don't do it, you want to scream, you are going to ruin everything, but you find yourself unable to speak. Why? Because you are dying to kiss him. You have been dying to kiss him for so long now, you were just stubborn, and too hurt to stop denying the truth.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks in a soft voice, and you open your eyes. You can see so many emotions in his eyes, so many emotions you had not seen in a long time. And you know you shouldn't, you know you should stop whatever is happening, get your stuff and ask him to drive you back home, but something is stopping you. Your heart is taking over your brain. "Please."

The feeling of his soft lips against yours is enough to bring back so many memories. The nights you spent in this living room, in front of the lit fireplace, kissing and giggling like teenagers trying to not wake up his parents and his aunt. You were in love back then, and the world did not exist around you. It was the two of you and only the two of you.

And it still is the same no matter what happened the past few months.

"I love you, I always loved you, and I will always love you." Doyoung says against your lips.

Four months later.

"What the hell are you doing? There are people around!" you explain when you see Doyoung kneeling on the ground, in front of all the friends you had invited for a weekend at the lake house. "Doyoung, come on, get up!"

He shakes his head, and he takes out a red silk case, the same one you have seen so many times placed on his aunt's dressing table. The one her husband proposed to marry her when she was barely 18. The same age you were when Doyoung first proposed to you. The conversations around stop, and you are pretty sure you heard a gasp.

"I know we've done it twice already. Once for love, and once for this house, but I want this time to be the one for eternity. This past year without you has been the worst, since you weren't by my side, for the first time since our teenage years. Life without you makes no sense, and I intend to take this second chance to redo everything, and to redo everything perfectly. My aunt said we deserved it, and you know what? I agree with her. That's why I would like to ask you to be my wife. Again."

He takes a deep breath, and he almost loses his balance but you are quick to put a hand on his shoulder to help him out. Even though it is not the first time, it does feel like it, you feel butterflies in your stomach, and your heart is pounding in your chest. "Of course I want to be your wife, Doyoung." you say and his smile is so bright that you almost have to look away, but you do not. This is the smile you love more than anything in the world.

This is Doyoung's smile. And you always loved him. And you know that whatever life throws at you, you will overcome everything, as long as you are together. And as long as you communicate.

#nct #nct imagines #nct scenarios #doyoung imagines #doyoung scenarios #nct angst

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marveldc-imagines-hub · 3 years

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Imagine Singing Shower Duets With the Stranger Next Door and Then Your Water Goes Out:

A/N: What an unnecessarily long imagine title, lol. And it still doesn’t quite explain the imagine. Oh well. I saw this prompt on Pinterest last night and immediately thought of this silly, quick idea with Sam.

Prompt: “So we’ve never met but our showers are on opposite sides of the same apartment wall so sometimes we’re showering at the same time and we sing duets AU.” - @awfulaus

Tip Jar

It wasn’t unusual for showers to be a favorited part of the day. It was unusual for the reason showers were one’s favorite part of the day was because you shared a fairly thin bathroom wall with the stranger next door who happened to shower around the same time as you and enjoyed singing duets with him. It was even more unusual that your next-door neighbor, who you’ve been singing in the shower with—separate showers bordered by the wall, of course—for several months now was still a stranger. The two of you were always apparently just missing each other in the hallway or going downstairs to check the mail, and the few times you’ve gotten the nerve up to go and knock on his door, he was gone for work, which could last anywhere from a day to a couple of months. All you had with your stranger-neighbor was a name—Sam—sporadic texts with a number exchanged via shower conversation, and the shower duets.

And yet here you were, excited to hop in the shower and chat or sing with your shower buddy. You leaned into your shower and pounded on the wall separating yours from his and waited for a minute until you heard a muffled voice from the other side of it, then a couple of pounds back. Smiling, you started up the water and adjusted it to the correct temperature, then began to strip. It was harder now to hear Sam’s voice over the water but he was talking to someone else—perhaps his equally elusive coworker, Bucky—so you didn’t mind.

You were flipping through music choices on your phone before getting in when you heard the other shower turn on. Another pound sounded from the wall and you leaned in to give one return, narrowly avoiding water splashing on you and your device, then hollered a hello.

“Sorry about that,” you heard Sam’s deep voice holler, “Bucky’s complaining about a job we have in the next couple of days.”

Hearing that you’d be without your singing buddy soon, for who knows how long, made you a little sad but you tried not to show it. Instead, you stepped into the shower, keeping your upper body out of it until the music was decided on, and hollered back, “How is your friend Bucky?”

“Hey, he’s not my friend!” Sam said, clearly offended. His voice was closer now as he got into his own shower.

“I’m not so sure about that,” you replied, “The two of you spend way too much time together to just be coworkers. Coworkers, maybe. Friends, clearly. Roommates? … Oh my god, they were roommates.”

You could hear Sam’s short, wonderful laugh from the other side of the wall. “I’ll show you friends. Also, shut up, we’re not roommates!”

“Maybe someday,” you admitted, ignoring his demand for quiet, “after you’ve returned to your natural habitat once again.”

“Maybe it’ll align with the rare moon that you decide to stop chickening out and coming over to say hi.”

“Hey! You’re hardly around and you could come over and try to say hi too!”

“I have!”

For some reason, hearing that Sam had also tried to visit you while you had been out made your heart flutter. You tried to play it cool, as if Sam could see you attempting a casual lean on the shower wall while you dipped a foot under the running showerhead to lightly splash the water.

“So, what’s on the music agenda?” You glanced at your phone and picked out a random name. “I’ve got Twenty One Pilots because my playlist apparently chose emo rights today.”

Sam laughed again, this time a more genuine one. It was deep and smooth and you bet his chest would do that rumbly thing if you’d ever get the chance to put a hand on it while he did so.

Clothed. Completely clothed. In a completely normal, clothed situation. Why would you ever be nude and touching your stranger-neighbor-friend’s chest? No one said the situation was nude.

Boy, were you glad for the wall separating your shower from Sam’s at that moment because you were just… on fire today.

Sam, completely oblivious of your mental infighting, answered your music question, “I have… whatever the first playlist my finger touches says I have.”

“Ah,” you said with an understanding nod, “Playlist Roulette. I’m down.”

You quickly flew through your recommended playlists and, without looking, let your thumb land on one. The duets were afoot.

===

The universe had brought you and Sam together for shower duets and casual conversation in any scenario that wasn’t face-to-face. That could only last so long before Madame Universe decided she wanted some better entertainment, so she decided to shut down your water just before shower time, only minutes after Sam texted you and told you that he returned from his week-long job.

You stood in front of his apartment door now, hands gripping your towel and travel bag of toiletries so hard that your knuckles turned several shades lighter. You were rehearsing what you were going to say, trying to remember how to talk like a normal person, and debating whether you really needed a shower right now or not.

You really did, so you knocked.

The door a couple of minutes later and you were finally face-to-face with the buff, gorgeous, sweats and tee-wearing, boyishly smirking Sam that you had been singing shower duets with.

You didn’t know that it was possible to feel your stomach all the way down into your toes. It was happening anyway.

“Why, [Y/N],” Sam drawled teasingly and held out his hand, “how nice it is to finally meet you in person.”

You tried to be normal but you couldn’t help but focus way too hard on how your hands were suddenly clammy as you took his larger hand in yours for a shake.

“Wish it was with better circumstances,” you managed.

Sam stepped to the side and beckoned you inside. He didn’t seem bothered by your clammy hands. “Do you know why you lost water?”

“Apparently the universe hates me,” you joked as you glanced around; his apartment was almost identical, mirrored image of yours, minus his considerable lack of decor. “No, but actually I was scheduled for water maintenance because of some trouble in the apartment above mine, but no one decided to inform me of this, and also no one decided to inform me that the maintenance guy had stopped by while I was at work, so I missed him.”

Sam gave you a sympathetic nod. He walked past you and into the open kitchen, where he leaned his hip against the island counter. “How long do you have to wait?”

You gave him a strained smile. “He has Friday, Monday, and the weekend off this week and next. Using up his vacation days before he loses them.”

It was Thursday today.

Sam made a face but then came to the same conclusion you had, that there was nothing to be done about it, and shrugged. “Well, good for him.”

You snorted. “Bad for me.”

He placed a hand over his heart and gave you an offended look. “Excuse me, I thought this was a wonderful opportunity for us to get to know each other.”

“Oh, my bad for not considering this over the fact that I can’t use my shower or sink or toilet for the next few days.” You rolled your eyes.

Sam smiled and it hit you like a ton of bricks. How dare he be so goddamn attractive in your greatest time of suffering.

“Well,” he said, “you’re welcome to use mine, although I’m sure the lack of duets will make it much less entertaining.” He snickered, then nod towards the hall. “First door on the left; I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“Thank you, by the way, I really appreciate the help.”

“No problem. Like I said, nice to meet you in person finally, and it is an opportunity. You want a drink when you’re done?”

You blinked. He actually wanted to hang out?

“Sure.”

Sam nodded and gave that smirk again.

You spun around and started walking to the bathroom and tried to play it cool as you felt his gaze follow you, slowly looking you over and lingering a little bit longer than needed. Not that you really minded.

You made it into the bathroom and immediately got down to business; you didn’t want to keep your host waiting, after all. You were about to step under the rushing water of the shower when you hesitated, then grabbed your phone to put on a song. Then you got in, started singing and scrubbing, and a couple of minutes later, you heard Sam singing too, from the other side of the wall that the kitchen and bathroom shared.

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namluve · 4 years

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↳ right on tide | seokjin x reader | 16.5k | oneshot | 18+ genre: smut, crack, angst & a little fluff, e2l, coworker au warnings: near death experiance (drowning), oral sex (m+f), fingering, swearing, praise

❝ as a passionate surfer instructor at one of the most glamour’s vacation resorts there were two things you hated. bad weather and kim seokjin. jin always steals your summer hook ups, leaving you in a dry spell for the whole summer each year the two of you work on the resort. this time, you decided things would be different, this time, you would get revenge. ❞

note: this is my late bangtan boardwalk fanfic finally seeing the light. I want to thank everyone who encouraged me and a speciall thank you to @spicykoreantatertots, Hannah, who helped me beta read it. without you, this would have been a hot mess. enjoy!

Laying on the beach, you listen as the waves hit the shore, the sound comforting as you try to relax. Kim f-ing Seokjin was arriving at the island today, two weeks after everyone else because, why not? As far as you're concerned, this just meant two weeks of not having to deal with his ass.

Being passionate about surfing, you were blessed to be able to have a job as a surfing instructor during the summer. A nice break from the rest of the year that was spent at university. The summer was the highlight of every year because you were able to share your passion with others. Teaching beginners how to surf as well as giving more experienced surfers tips. Your workplace was a famous vacation resort set by the beach, surrounded by small islands. Attracting all kinds of people, but mostly middle aged singles looking for a good time.

These first two weeks of your summer, however, had been a little different. With Jin gone, you had to step in and cover some of his shifts, which you honestly didn’t mind. Diving had always been something you’d find relaxing. You loved to be able to watch the ocean underneath the waves as well as on top of them. Seeing entire ecosystems flourish and live peacefully, even if there was a storm raging on the surface. It always seemed to be quiet down in the sea.

That’s why you didn’t mind taking some of Jin’s shifts. Having missed diving and seeing the ocean from below, it was a win. Well, besides all the extra workouts you got from working double shifts. Your body, that was happy whenever you walked instead of taking the bus, was untrained and not ready for such intense exercise. Your muscles were sore, and you thanked God for the waves being too high to ride today. Giving you a day to rest and recover. To let go of your worries.

This year, you wouldn’t let Kim Seokjin ruin your summer. That you were sure of. You had packed all of your most daring outfits. Swallowing all of your insecurities, this year would be the year that Jin wouldn’t get in the way of your hook ups.

He was always so shameless about it, stealing them right in front of your eyes. The first few times he had done it, you were convinced the boy was gay. So, you went after a girl that, just like the guys, eventually left your side to go with him.

What was annoying about it though, was that he always waited until the end of the evening before making his move. Stealing them at the very last minute. Not giving you a chance to find someone else.

This year, however, you had a plan. A plan to ruin your enemy’s mischiefs for good. This year, your dry summer spell will end. This year, you will get revenge.

Jin’s first week back, things are as usual. He flirts with and gets together with everyone, leaving you to feel like a plastic bag that’s just floating in the air while nobody cares about the environment. So, you just keep on floating, never getting picked up.

In all fairness, you barely tried. Too tired after work and your mood was instantly brought down at the sight of Jin. Why did someone so handsome have to be so cruel to you?

You were even convinced that one time he brought you a drink at the last party was some kind of apology for being dick. Only for him to scare away the cute girl you were talking to.

“What? She obviously had a boyfriend. I really did you a favour.” Was his response when you confronted him about it. What a dick.

“Please don’t ever come near me again. I don’t even want to breathe the same air as you right now!” You angrily shouted as you stomped your foot before walking away from him.

Jin chuckled as you walked away. God his crush was a maniac. He could have chosen to like literally anybody else. Yet, every summer he came back, he couldn't help but to be drawn towards you. More and more so for every time you annoyingly rolled your eyes at him. He couldn't help but to think you were adorable.

After the first month of the summer had passed, your boss gathered around all team leaders for a quick meeting. Wanting to check the progress of each department. Making sure things were going smoothly. Your boss was not at any fault for having these meetings, but it did mean you had to spend time with Jin. Which… you weren’t excited about it, considering how mad you were at him for his behaviour at the last party.

“Y/n! how is it going for our new guests?” Your boss asks, all eyes shifting towards you. You glance over at Jin. A coy smile on his lips. You wanted to gag at the sight, turning your attention towards your boss.

Jin was probably really happy about being in the same room as you. Especially when last time you spoke to him, you said you didn’t want to breathe the same air as him. Only to be forced to be in the same room as him four days later.

“Good. Most of them really have a talent for it. I’m fully booked for the next two weeks.”

“I’m glad to hear. Jin,” the focus shifts to Jin and as you look at him, your eyes meet. His eyes had never seemed to shift their focus from you. Not until your boss spoke again and he turned towards him. “How is it going for our new recruit?”

Had the diving team gotten another employee? While you and Taehyung were on your knees with how overbooked you were? This had to have been Jin’s doing. He probably knew about your department's situation and got another recruit for the laughs of it.

“It’s going well but it is going to take some time until he can swim out with a team of his own. Together we can keep track of two more people so that’s been a relief.” He speaks and you scoff., rolling your eyes at his words. So their new recruit couldn’t even handle a team on his own? Useless to hire him in the first place, you thought.

“Something you wanna say y/n?” Jin asks and suddenly all eyes are on you again. That fucker. A smirk on his lips. His prolonged plan to make your boss hate you going really well right now you thought. If looks could kill, Jin would’ve dropped dead on the floor.

“Nothing.” You quietly said, the kind warming smile on your bosses’ face turned towards you. You turned towards him, your face softening. The glares you had been sending Jin gone the moment you turned your eyes away from his.

Your boss could be, at times, hard to read. He wanted to hear improvements that could be made to the resort. Well... as long as he didn’t have to put any time or money into it. Complaining about your work hours would probably not make a difference. Your boss milked out as much as he could from your department each year.

“Come on y/n, you know you can speak your mind freely here. We want everyone to be a part of the meeting and voice their concerns.” Your boss tried and you thought, well… When he puts it like that…

“We could really use another person on my team.” You begin hesitantly. “As I said, I am fully booked for the coming two weeks and Taehyung is as well. In between that, I somehow need to find time for my paperwork. And also time to clean all the equipment.” You explained, seeing the cogs turn in your bosses’ head at your words. “We could just really use some help…”

A silence was left in the room as your boss was thinking. Jin still had a smile on his face. You thought it was because he was taunting you, but really, he was proud to see you standing up for yourself. Speaking up about the issues you so loved to talk about with your colleagues. He actually wanted for you to have some free time, to not have to work overtime everyday.

“You’re right,” Your boss suddenly says. Surprised to hear him say those words, you looked at him confused, “since Jace can’t dive on his own with tourists yet, he can help out with cleaning and organizing all the surfboards at the end of the day. Gives you more time with the paperwork, sounds fair?”

You nod, never having expected to get anywhere with your comment. Happy that finally, you might not have to stress everyday to make sure everything stays afloat. Your boss was probably pleased with the solution, not having to hire another worker and just moving around the ones he has. Like he usually does in any situation ever. You wouldn’t be surprised if he threw you around the departments this summer as well, despite your busy schedule. Oh well, you guess you’ll just have to wait and see.

The meeting went on as usual. You looked at Jin a final time before you ignored him for the rest of the meeting. He still had that stupid smile on his face. In a way, it was his push that led you to get some extra help in your department. Never in your life would you admit that though. You would never give credit to Jin.

As the end of the day slowly approached, you decided to sit down and look over your paperwork. There was much more paperwork to your job than you initially thought. Having to look over the next day's bookings, plan out lessons, keep track of the weather and make sure everyone paid.

Yesterday’s meeting was forgotten, the stress of today’s work wearing heavy on you. Your shoulders tense, legs sore and skin almost burning. Of course you wore sunscreen when you were outside but sadly, that didn’t always help. Today was one of those days.

You didn’t even notice when the door to your little hut opened. Jin stepped in, looking around the place. This was where it all began for him. He started his career as a surfing instructor before it got boring and he moved on to diving.

He knew the passion you held for the sport, always looking so happy out on the waves. He knew you held some kind of grudge against him, and he kind of knew why. Jin honestly just liked to deny it. Stealing your crush’s dates maybe wasn’t the best way to get them to like you, but it sure got their attention.

Also, you looked super cute mad. Brows furrowed together, jaw clenched, eyes piercing through him with rage. Often placing your hands on your hips as you scold him. In all honesty, Jin didn’t even listen to half the things you were saying while you were shouting at him. He was just happy to be able to see you eye to eye. You couldn’t ignore him when you were mad at him.

Jin had already sent off Jace to help Taehyung, he really didn’t have to go inside the hut but he wanted to see you. Concentrating on your work, you huffed the strand of hair that had fallen down onto your face. Trying your best to piece together the schedule. A new family booking three lessons last minute, screwing over your entire schedule.

It wasn’t until Jin started walking towards you that you noticed his presence, sighing in annoyance. Looking at him as he stood in front of you. A white t-shirt clinging slightly to his chest, dirty blond hair still a little wet, beige shorts going down just above his knees. He had probably just ended his shift while yours was on for at least another hour. Yet another petty thing you could be mad at him about.

“I cannot deal with you today.” You tell him, rolling your eyes and he laughs. Showing off his white teeth as he smiles brightly.

“In all fairness, you say that to me everyday.”

“And I mean it every time.” You snapped back and Jin sighed. Well, he wasn’t getting anywhere closer to you with this conversation. Looking at the papers splayed out around the table. Your work computer open with the booking tab, Jin sensed there was something more to your attitude today.

“Tell me what’s really bugging you,” Jin said, a seriousness and caring tone to his voice, “I know there is more to this.”

“Well…” You began, contemplating whether to open up to Jin or not. Looking up at him through your tired eyelids, you decide what the hell. You had no problem complaining to all the other employees, why not to your arch nemesis. “There’s just this family who booked some lessons last minute, screwing up my plans completely.”

“I see...” Jin said, looking like he was thinking. Holding his chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “Have you tried seeing if the family has any previous surfing experience?” He asks and you sigh. Of course Jin wouldn’t be of any help, just mock you with the most basic questions.

“It’s the first thing I check, they haven’t written anything in their booking.”

“Not that, but the database that stores all bookings. So… you can check those made a long time ago.” There was a database for it? Wow, you thought, this really showed how poorly your boss had educated you before throwing you into the job. You had almost been completely independent already on day one.

“Should I have?” You ask, feeling suddenly small and not so bold against Jin anymore. There was just something about his relaxing nature, never stressing about things, knowing quite a lot about the resort and how it works. Yes, you were willing to bury the hatchet for a little while if that meant your job would get easier.

“I mean… I could show you if you want?” Jin quietly suggested and you nodded, sliding your chair to the right so Jin would have space to work on the computer. He walked over. Even though you had moved your chair, Jin still had to bend down over your shoulder. His chin almost resting on your shoulder as he began typing something on the computer.

You closed your eyes for a moment, Jin’s scent completely taking over you. His perfume was sweet, but with a hint of musk in it. The warmth of his body makes your cheeks heat up. Suddenly, you felt like a highschool girl about to get her first kiss.

“Y/n.” Jin said your name, snapping you out of your thoughts. As he turned his head towards you, you were suddenly painfully aware of how close his lips were to yours. Ears red, you answered him, “yes?”

“The family that’s coming are pro surfers, they just don’t know how to book the surfing boards without adding the lessons.” He speaks and you look at him, stunned. Hypnotized by his beauty, never seen him this up close.

Tilting your head to the side, you allow yourself to be drawn to him as you ask. “How do you know that?”

“I taught them how to surf many years ago, they are pro surfers and friends with one of the managers.” Jin’s words were what got you out of your trance. No way would you play into his little games.

“What do you mean you taught them?” For as long as you could remember, the four years you had been working at the resort you hadn’t seen Jin surf, not even once. He was probably just playing with you right now, as usual. Jin sensed your change of tone, realizing you were probably going to be annoyed with him in a few seconds again.

“I started out as a surfing instructor, before I moved on to diving.” Jin explained and you scoffed.

“Why? Was loch ness calling you back to your home?” Jin was a bit taken aback by your words. For some reason they sounded harsher than usual. He shook his head, exhaling a deep breath as he stood up. Disappointed in himself for thinking he had the smallest of chance with you.

“What?” You questioned, confused by Jin’s reaction. He wasn’t teasing you back and it made you feel weird. You couldn’t describe it, but it was almost as if you felt bad for him. Jin began walking towards the door, having to intention to stay any longer in your presence.

“And here I thought you would be nice for five minutes.” Jin almost spit out, a clear anger behind the tone of his voice. “Not even a thanks for the help.”

And with that Jin left. Leaving you alone with your paperwork. The room almost felt cold despite the heat that radiated from the sun outside. Your stomach twisting and turning, feeling as if there was a lump in your throat. Jin had just helped you, and you had, what? Been nothing but a dick to him. Your rivalry aside, he wasn’t that bad of a person, and you knew that.

Your colleagues telling stories about how nice and helpful he was would often make you want to gag. But matter of fact, Jin was a nice and helpful person, you were just too caught up to notice it most of the time. Never thanking him when he opened a door for you, made sure you always had water at the meetings. Leaving his leftovers at your door when he knows you're working all the time.

The first few times he’d done it, you thought it was to poison you or something. When you tasted his food for the first time however, you were blown away with how good it tasted. A smile on your lips each time you found a container outside your door. Not sending him a glare the next time you’d see him after he’d left some food. Jin noticed it of course. It was one of the few things he knew wouldn’t get on your nerves.

Now he was helping you with work, and you did nothing besides be a dick to him. Sighing, you tried to go back to your paperwork. Ignoring the bad feeling that was upsetting your stomach. Your schedule, more or less saved thanks to Jin. Now, you just had to pull through the rest and do some cleaning, then you’re good to go.

“We’re all done!” Taehyung chimed in as you closed your laptop, finally being done with the paperwork after an hour. Confused, you looked at the bright smiling boy who most of the time looked like a lost puppy.

“We?” You question and Taehyung just nodded, smiling brightly.

“Yeah, Jin left Jace with us so he helped me out. Once you’re done with the paperwork we can head back.” Your mood was now drastically lifted, a wide smile on your face as you packed your things. The first day ever since you got here this summer that didn’t end in overtime.

Taehyung packed up his things as well and once the two of you were out the door, you locked it. Feeling the warmth of the sun as you step outside. Even thought the sun was setting,the warmth from it almost burned your feet as you walked over to the apartment complex with Taehyung.

As you walk down the hall, you glance at Jin’s door, wondering for a second what he was up to. Was he mad at you? Was he sad? You couldn’t exactly go up to his door and ask so you decided to do the next best thing.

After cooking dinner for yourself, you wrapped a box up for Jin as well. You left a note on top of the plastic container, writing ‘thank you’ on it. Would Jin even know it was you? I mean, yes it was your iconic yellow dotted containers he would receive the food in, but how would he know for sure?

Deciding to write your name in the bottom corner, you head outside of your apartment, and take the few strides it takes to walk over to Jin’s door. Placing the container on his doormat. Hopefully, he will accept your apology. Hopefully, you might have a chance to make things right with him.

There were parties essentially every night at the single resort you were working at. Tonight, however, the resort would host one of their more famous ones. This meant a lot of people would attend it. since the weather would be bad tomorrow, you didn’t have to get to work that early. You had the best conditions that could’ve been given you to get revenge.With your makeup on point. Eyeliner so sharp you hoped it would cut into Jin’s perfect face. You looked at yourself one last time in the mirror before you made your way down to the beach.

Your dress shimmering in the moonlight as you stepped outside. Following the stonepath on the ground, you make your way over to the party tents. What if Jin was still mad at you? You hadn’t really seen him after you tried to apologize to him with your cooking. He must have gotten over it, he usually did when you were rude to him. You’d never know why though, especially when you didn’t deserve it most of the time.

As you arrived, you thankfully accepted the welcoming drink. Shaking a little as you grabbed it. Most of your friends were not up to the party, meaning, you were on your own. As you sipped on it, you spotted Jin. Talking with two girls, he looked perfect as usual. Laughing at some joke one of the girls probably told him. The feeling that set in your stomach at the sight could only be described as green. Luckily, you were already wearing it on your face, the green makeup showing your true colours unintentionally.

Jin was dressed as Eric as far as you could see. A dashing prince. The two girls around him looked stunning as well, although, they didn’t put in as much effort as you and him to the masquerade bit. Wearing simple dresses and nude makeup, they didn’t stand out quite as well as the two of you did. You’d overheard Jin telling Taehyung how excited he was for the party because he loved to dress up. Why was he spending his time with people who didn't even put in half the effort he did?

Jin was wearing Prince Eric’s signature white loose shirt. A red scarf that it seemed like he diy’d into looking like Eric’s belt. Dark blue loose trousers with almost knee high black boots. To top it all off, he’d changed his hair colour into black. Probably spraying it with some wash off colour, same as you with your red. Your green dress that barely covered your butt went well with the green and blue makeup you’d put on your face. Using fishnet stockings to create a fishscale pattern on your face to finish it all off, you were ready for tonight.

This year, it was time to switch things up. This year, you would take his conquests from him. Not the other way around. You decided to finish your glass of champagne in one go, hoping it would give you a boost of confidence as you started walking towards Jin. You had one goal in mind, ruin Seokjin’s chances with those two girls.

As you made your way down the beach, Jin noticed you. Eyes locked on yours for a second before they trailed your body up and down. It was most certainly a win on your part. You had checked Jin out as well, but he didn’t know that. Jin’s mouth was slightly open, his reaction more obvious with the three glasses of champagne in his body. He most certainly thought you’d never looked better.

Jin had let go of all the anger he felt towards you when he had gotten your apology meal. You had tried after all, and he couldn’t be mad at you for that. Especially considering this was the first time you had even tried to apologize to him, Jin thought that he might have a chance now. If not at pursuing you, at least at becoming your friend.

“My prince,” you announced as you reached him, and the girls took half a step back. Thinking that the two of you might be a couple of some sort. Well, you did wear matching outfits after all. A smirk on your lips as they did. Your plan was going as planned.

“Princess,” Jin answered, bowing down before you overdramatically. One hand behind his back, one foot in front of the other before he stood up again. His hand reaching forward, you hesitated before you placed your hand in his. Remembering what you’d told yourself earlier. You weren’t going to let him have an affect on you at all. You couldn’t be thrown off by a little hand holding. Besides, it would probably increase the chances of the two girls to leave.

He took hold of it, never breaking eye contact as he placed a kiss upon it. It shouldn’t affect you at all, but the way he was looking at you got you feeling butterflies in your stomach. You’d forgotten why you walked over in the first place. Forgotten about how this was not supposed to affect you at all. Forgotten how this was all just a chance for you to get revenge.

The girls had left by now, not really understanding what was happening and left for some more drinks. A little sad that the dashing prince was already taken by you.

“You look stunning Ariel.” Jin complimented and you felt your cheeks heat up. Happy that the green makeup probably covered it. Keep it together, you thought to yourself.

“So do you Eric.” Two could play this game, you thought. Jin looked surprised by your words, well, most often you only called him names and was angry at him. This surely was a nice change.

“Care for a dance?” He asked, knowing he was probably risking it. You could turn at any given moment. Get mad at him. Scold him, as you have done for years but you shrugged your shoulders. A ‘sure’ leaving your lips even though you were far from sure. Your mission was already completed, then why did a tiny voice in your head tell you to dance?

These were uncertain waters you had never explored before. Sure, Jin had flirted with you a few times before but that was just to annoy you, right? Like that time he’d shamelessly checked you out when you were by the swimming pool the first summer you worked at the resort. Sending a wink your way when your eyes meet. The two of you didn’t know each other back then and as the summer went on, your annoyance for Jin continued to grow.

At the first party you ever attended at the resort, Jin stole your date for the first time. You’d gathered courage to talk to the cute guy that had brought you ice cream earlier that week. Only to have Jin swoop in and steal him right under your nose, take him to his room and spend the night with him.

As he led you out to the dancefloor, your coworker started looking at your direction. Ready to call 911 in a second, knowing how heated you could be at times. You got self conscious under their stares. Jin looked at where your eyes were directed. Seeing the hesitant look on your face. How could someone so confident in front of him feel so small in other people’s company? You took half a step closer to him, searching for safety without realizing it. Jin was more than happy to provide it.

Taking your hand, he placed it on his shoulder, and you took the hint. Placing your other hand on top of his shoulders as well. As you turned your eyes to meet his, your surroundings suddenly seemed to disappear. His hands moved to rest on your hips. Swaying to the music, his eyes almost burning through yours and you feel the need to look away. Flustered at having him so close to you.

“Don’t shy away from me now princess.” Jin chuckled and you thought, how could I not? Besides the fact that you hated him, you couldn’t deny that Jin was handsome. Stunning even. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was infuriating, you would have jumped his bones a long time ago. Whenever Jin wasn't making you mad, he was always making you feel things you couldn’t quite understand. It had always been easier to just hate him.

But right now, you and Jin were in the situation you were in. For years dancing around each other to finally dance with each other. You had to admit it, it was nice. Not to be angry, not being on your toes around him. Just enjoying his company. Just being.

Jin had a hard time believing this was all real. He knew you hated him. He just didn’t know why. I mean yeah, he teased you a lot, but he didn’t know how else to catch your attention. To have you practically in his arms, flustered, not being able to look him in the eyes was a blessing. He never wanted it to end.

“This is quite nice,” Jin said and you finally looked at him again. Muttering a ‘what?’ as you had been too deep in your own thoughts to acknowledge what he’d said.

“I said it’s quite nice, dancing like this. Not fighting.” Jin spoke again and as he did, he felt your hands clench, your whole body stiffening. He knew his moment with you was over.

“Well it’s not my fault we began fighting, is it?” You snapped back and Jin couldn’t read your expression one bit. It seemed as if you were in a conflict with your own thoughts and words. Wanting one thing and saying another.

“So, who started the fighting?” Jin asked, wanting your honest thoughts. Wanted to know what he did to make you hate him so much. You were already looking for your escape by then. You wanted nothing more than to just be alone and swallow your feelings. This was exactly why you didn’t allow yourself to be nice around Jin. Things got messy.

Spotting Kyle, your colleague that you didn’t exactly get along with either, you made your exit.

“I’m just gonna check on Kyle,” you said letting go of Jin, moving past him. He took hold of your arm before you could move out of his personal space. His eyes pleading as you looked back at him.

“Please just tell me what I did,” he begged, and you harshly pulled your arm from his grasp. Looking in his eyes for one more second before you headed straight towards Kyle. Your feet moved on your own as you moved past him and started walking back to the resort.

You didn’t need this. Not at all. You were supposed to make him feel bad, not the other way around. As you reached the lobby, you were met with a handsome face. The brown haired tall boy looking at you up and down as you walked over to him.

“Wanna be my distraction for the night?” You asked him and he nodded. Taking out his hand so you could shake it.

“I’m Matt,” he introduced himself and you shook his hand, introducing yourself.

“Nice to meet you, what’s a beautiful lady like you doing running from the party like that?” He asked and you shrugged.

“Just avoiding my co-worker really. Care to show me to your room?” Matt nodded and you small talked on your way over. Finally, you had managed to get a hook-up of your own without Jin interrupting.

Spending the night in Matt’s room you were treated to adequate sex. You know the one that’s not bad but doesn’t leave you quite satisfied? Yeah, that one. You woke up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep because of Matt’s snoring, so you decided to head back to your room.

Walking with your heals in your hand down the halls, going to the staff area, you passed Jin’s door. Wondering who had been the lucky lady or guy to follow him back to his room tonight. Could have been you if you weren’t so stubborn. Jin had his eyes set on you.

Walking over to your door that was almost at the end of the hall, you unlock your door. Going inside, you threw your heels to the side and took off your dress. Finally getting to remove your makeup and put on your softest pyjamas. Climbing in under the covers, you fell asleep quickly. Dreaming of dancing with Jin.

You woke up because of loud knocking on your door. Looking at the clock, you realized it was only seven in the morning. Your first day off in what felt like forever as well. What a joke your life suddenly seemed to be.

Grunting, you got up. The lack of sleep gives you a headache that is pulsating, making it feel like your head was about to explode. Your limbs were still asleep as you dragged yourself across the floor to your door.

Opening it, you were met with an equally tired very familiar face.

“What do you want Jin?” You snared, not quite happy about being awoken so early. Jin looked down at your pyjamas, smiling. Finding it cute.

“Boss said we need to dive and check on one of the reefs,” he explained, and you scoffed. A week was all it took before your boss started moving you around as usual. You didn’t expect it to be in Jin’s team, however. It was probably because you covered for Jin those first two weeks that he missed. Where was he those weeks anyway?

Being reminded of his absence, you grew even more annoyed at the situation. “Does he know about the storm-“

“Yes he does, and he doesn’t seem to care, he wants us to do it before the storm comes.” Jin interrupted, seeming burdened as the words left his mouth, obviously agreeing with you. It was dangerous to go out on the waters when there is a possibility of a storm. It wasn’t even a possibility today, it was well known along the whole coast that the storm would come.

“It’s a reef close to one of the new living areas that’s opening in a few days. Apparently, some fishers did some damage to it…” You saw the sadness in Jin’s eyes. You knew how much he cares about the ocean, just as much as you. “…and we need to check on it.”

He continues explaining and you nod. Of course, your boss cared the most about his precious resort more than anything. More than his summer employees. But still, you cared about the ocean too, having a deep respect for the waters and the animals living in it. It contributes to you being able to carry out your sport.

So, you agreed to help Jin. You didn’t really have a choice in the matter. You just hoped that you could be done just in time to miss the storm. Scared of what would happen if you didn’t make it back in time.

Out on the boat, the waves had already started getting worse since the crew got out on the water. The two old men driving the boat hadn’t said a word to you or Jin since you sat down in the boat. Probably not that happy about being out on the water today and you totally understood that.

Looking over to your right, you focused on Jin for a while. He looked good in the diving suit, you had to admit that. Almost more so than the prince Eric costume if you’re being honest. The wetsuit clinging to his body in the most appealing way it probably could. Showing off his toned body.

“Yah… if you’re going to stare at me, you have to make it a little less obvious.” Jin suddenly spoke, turning to you. Your ears and cheeks turned red as you kept eye contact with him. You were not going to let him make you feel flustered this year, no.

“I was just thinking about if I should throw you off the boat or not… It’s really moving towards ‘yes’ right now.” Jin laughed at your comeback. Muttering a ‘sure’ under his breath as he began to look at the ocean again. The island where the reef was located got closer with every second as the boat traveled across the waters.

“You know all the signals, right?” Jin suddenly asked, mostly just to have a conversation with you, but also as part of his routine. You wouldn’t be able to speak under water of course, you would have to rely on being able to signal things with your hands to one and another.

You scoffed at his question. “Do you even know who took care of your shift while you were gone doing God knows what?” Jin never meant to question your abilities but he quickly realized he hit a sensitive spot. You were probably the most overworked employee. He knew that because you knew the place inside and out. The boss of course loved to use that, throwing you around wherever he needed you.

He sighed, turning his head towards you. Looking at you with a pleading face, asking you to drop the hatchet for just a moment. Just for a bit so you really understood that he meant every single word.

“I’m thankful for that. I know you didn’t really have a choice, but I want you to know that it meant a lot to me.” Jin’s words caught you off guard, his genuine appreciation making you stutter over your next words. Wanting nothing else than for the conversation to be over.

“Wha… Whatever… Let’s just get th-this over with…” You almost mumble, looking down at the bright wooden floor on the boat. Kicking your legs as you sit restlessly for the rest of the ride. Avoiding a conversation with Jin at all cost. The sun was still out. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad out on the waves today after all?

Jin was smiling the rest of the boat ride, happy to have finally caught you off guard and made you flustered. Maybe things could finally change between the two of you. Maybe, just maybe… you being forced to spend time with him had a positive effect this summer. The last two summers had only drifted you further apart.

This year it seemed like the waves were crashing in, the ocean’s current too strong for you to fight against it. Drawing you closer to Jin, making you see him from a new perspective. And the view was surprisingly nice. When you allowed yourself to look, instead of turning a blind eye to it. Appreciating what had been in front of you this entire time. What had always been there and what you had never noticed. Yeah, maybe the view wasn’t so bad after all?

“Here it is, in you go kids. Don’t stay out too long or we’ll leave your asses here.” The captain of the boat said as he turned off the engine. You wanted to scold him for saying such a thing but Jin beat you to it.

“You’ll stay put here for as long as we want you to. Wouldn’t want the boss finding out his best instructors somehow went missing because of a moron?” You smiled. Best instructors, so Jin did admit you were good at your job? It was a nice feeling, being recognized for your hard work.

The captain muttered a ‘whatever’ waving Jin off. Jin turned to you as he shook his head, scoffing. All that was left for Jin to put on was his goggles. His eyes soften the moment they meet yours.

“You ready?” He asked and you nodded. “Let’s go then.”

You take a sitting position on the edge of the boat, falling backwards into the ocean. Your oxygen tank feelt lighter the second it was submerged into the water. Taking your breather in between your lips, you took a deep breath. Testing so it all works before you dive deeper into the ocean. Your legs made slow kicking motions to keep you close to the surface.

Looking at Jin, you saw his thumbs up and you gave him one back. At the reassuring signal that everything was alright, you and Jin began swimming further down, quickly reaching the ocean floor where the coral reef flourished. You followed Jin’s lead as he knew the area better than you. Enjoying your quiet time in the ocean. Allowing yourself to spend time with Jin without arguing. Yeah… you could actually get used to this.

You and Jin went around and checked on the coral reef for about an hour. Luckily, where the boat had hit the reef it was mostly just big rocks that nothing really lived on. The reef was lucky this time. A while ago, you noticed the light getting darker but didn’t think much of it, too focused on your task at that very moment. It was not until you and Jin began to swim towards the surface that you realized why it had gotten darker.

When you reached the surface, the wind made the waves crash over you. You tried to keep your head above water level, searching for the boat, trying to find your ticket back to safety. As you looked around, you couldn’t see the boat anywhere. You started to panic. Had they really left you and Jin in the middle of the fucking ocean? In the middle of a storm?

Jin was mad, beyond furious but he put all his feelings aside the moment he saw you. Struggling to keep your head afloat, waves crashing over you as the rain poured down. He had to think of something. He had to think of a plan real fast. Otherwise, the two of you could actually die, the realization made Jin sick to his stomach. His body filled with fear as he thought about the options he had.

While you were still panicking, looking around frantically, occasionally screaming your lungs out for help, Jin got an idea. The new living area on the island was close to the coral reef.

Looking around, Jin was able to find the island pretty quickly. A barrier of rocks surrounded it. Of course the fishers had damaged the reef on the opposite side of the beach and pier of the island. It would take too long to swim around the island. The currents were too strong, and you could in worst case die out of exhaustion trying to make it. If only there was some other entrance…

The caves. The underwater caves leading to the lagoon, the island's future main attraction. If he could only navigate the two of you there. He knew the entrance was around here somewhere. He had, after all, been here last week to check on the cave system.

He swam over to you. One hand taking hold of your shoulder to gain your attention. Stopping you right before you were going to scream for help again. Jin’s touch felt comforting, but left you all too soon. Removing his hand once your eyes met, he knew he had your attention.

“Follow me!” He screamed. The wind made so much noise that you could just barely hear him. As Jin made a down motion with his hand, you understood what he meant. Giving him a nod. When Jin dived back into the calm waters below the waves, you followed. He brought out his flashlight to light the path in front of him, and you did the same.

You swam close to the rock walls and you quickly realized Jin was searching for something. Matter of fact, he found it within a minute. Doing a ‘follow me’ motion with his hand, he started swimming into a hole in the wall. You followed him closely. The cave system was a little too narrow for your taste really, but you didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

Jin swam slowly, following the air bubbles. Air that desperately tried to find the closest way to the surface. In other words, leading to the lagoon. As you took a deep breath, you suddenly heard a beep. Indicating you only had five breaths left before your tank would run out of oxygen. Shit.

You tapped Jin on the foot and he stopped in his tracks. The space in the tunnel was big enough that he could almost stand as he turned around. You took a breath, pointing towards your oxygen mask and then showing him four fingers.

Shit, Jin thought as well. He forgot you weren’t as an experienced diver as him. He nodded. He could give you his air if needed. Pointing towards his tank and then towards you, you got his message. Relieved, you swam after Jin as he began swimming again.

Jin stopped after a little while, taking his mouthpiece towards your mouth and you breathed in. You still had four in yours and was grateful for Jin giving you some of his. He probably had a lot left you thought, he was more experienced after all.

The smile that Jin had as he saw your relieved face when you took a breath of his oxygen died quickly. As he took a breath, he heard the beep. You had four breaths left and Jin was now left with five. The situation got more deadly in a matter of seconds. Jin ignored it. He had to make it, he had to get you two to safety, no matter the cost.

With each breath both you and Jin grew more paranoid. As you took your final breath that was left from the tank, you suddenly saw light. The surface was close and Jin knew this as well. One final breath was left in his tank as he swam out of the cave. Looking behind him once he reached the lagoon, he saw you struggle.

You needed more air, muscles straining and working against you as you looked up towards the surface, desperate to reach it. Your vision started to darken, you felt a mouthpiece being pressed against your lips. You took a deep breath, finally having enough oxygen in your body to swim above the surface. You looked at Jin for a second before you swam as fast as you could.

Reaching the surface, you breathed heavily. Trying to catch your breath, you almost started to cry out of happiness. You made it. You were in some random cave, but you made it. Looking behind you, ready to throw yourself at Jin, you noticed he wasn’t anywhere to be found.

On his way up, Jin inhaled water just before he reached the surface. The lack of oxygen shutting his brain down as his lungs begged him for something. Upon your realization, you quickly dived down, finding Jin’s limp body sinking towards the cave floor. No. You would not allow this. Throwing your thousand dollar equipment off your body as fast as possible.

You reach Jin in a matter of seconds, throwing his tank off him as well. The weight of the metal made the oxygen tank sink as you grabbed hold of him and swam towards the surface as quickly as possible. Your body found an immense amount of strength, propelling you towards the edge of the lagoon. You had done this a few times with your students, swam with them to safety on the beach. It had always ended up well. So why were you worried to death all of the sudden?

Dragging Jin’s body up on the hard rock floor, you checked his breathing. Your mind was completely focused on the task. You had to save him. When you couldn’t feel him breathing, you checked for his pulse. Your middle and pointing finger applying pressure on the artery vein on his neck. He had a pulse. You just needed to get him breathing again.

You pinched his nose, restricting his airflow, and tilted his head upwards. After taking a deep breath, you placed your lips over his, filling Jin’s lungs with air. When nothing happened, you placed your lips over his again. Filling his lungs with air one more time.

Jin finally began coughing and you quickly let go of him. Your worried hands brushed the hair out of his face, watching for the life that was returning to his eyes.. Jin was trying to breathe while also coughing up all the water that he had taken into his lungs. Water was coming up with each cough, but eventually his lungs cleared.

When he started breathing normally, you threw your arms around him. Having no strength left in his body to support the two, Jin fell backwards with you clinging to his chest. He winced as his body hit the cold, rock hard cave floor. He wanted to complain, his head hurting from the fall, but he stopped himself. Your arms squeezing even tighter around him as you start to sob into his chest.

“I thought you were gone…” You choked out and Jin felt a sting of pain in his heart. Hearing you so heartbroken and scared… He placed his arms around you. With one around your body, he brought you closer to him. While the other hand softly petted your head, reassuring you.

“Shh, it’s okay. We’re alright.” Jin whispered and you allowed yourself to relax. Exhaustion quickly overcomes your body. Jin felt you relax, your body going limp as you started falling asleep.

He let you sleep. Allowing himself the moment. To finally have you in his arms. To finally have you look at him with concern and not hate. For you to care about him. Yeah, all Jin could wish for really was to live that moment for a little longer. His body tired, mind empty, he fell asleep as well shortly after you.

You both laid there sleeping for almost two hours before you woke up. Confused, you looked around the cave. Not quite remembering where you were at first. Not until you became aware that you were sleeping on Jin. His chest rising as he takes a deep breath. His mouth was slightly open, eyes effortlessly, beautifully closed.

He looked so peaceful like this, so beautiful. As if he had been sculpted by the God Poseidon himself. His beauty was remarkable. His dirty blond hair was still slightly wet. Skin a little paler than usual, probably from the lack of oxygen. Lips red and puffy.

His lips. You look at them for a while. They looked way too inviting. Your hand moved up to your lips. Two fingers tracing your lips as you were reminded, they had touched Jin’s. Sure, it was because you were trying to save him, and you couldn’t really remember much of it. But you wanted to. Wanted to know how his lips felt. How they tasted.

As Jin let out a slight snore, you were brought back to reality. Almost throwing yourself backwards and away from his body. What were you thinking? This is your arch nemesis. The reason for your dry summer spell. Well, you did break it this year, but Matt barely counted. Not when he couldn’t even fully satisfy you.

Okay focus, you told yourself, you needed to figure out what to do next. So, you went through the facts. You were stuck in a cave with Jin. A cave that was… where exactly? Had Jin just told you to follow him into a random cave? Shivers going down your spine as you felt a slight breeze. Your body instantly started to shake.

Great, you were in a random cave, with Jin, and you were freezing. Your day couldn’t get much better. Looking over at Jin, you realized you had to wake him up. You needed to know where the hell you were.

You approached him, slightly shaking his body. Your hand gripping his arm. He just grunted and you sighed. No way were you just going to let him sleep peacefully while you were freezing. It was his fault anyway that the two of you went out into the ocean in the first place. He should have stood up to your boss, you thought.

You shook his arm more violently, Jin finally opened his eyes. A confused look on his face as he sat up. Looking around the cave slightly before his gaze looked onto yours.

“Where are we?” He asked, still half asleep and very much confused about the situation. You slowly shook your head, scoffing. You slap his arm lightly, trying to get him to focus. Jin whines, confused as to why you’d hit him.

“Oh, but shouldn’t you know that? It was your brilliant plan to take us here, after all.” At your words, Jin is reminded of what had happened. Reminded where you guys were. Reminded that everything was back to the way it was before.

“Yah… I brought you here, to safety, so you wouldn’t drown… I almost drowned in the process, and this is how you thank me?” He questioned and you were suddenly filled with guilt. Jin was right but you didn’t have a chance to apologize before he spoke again. “We are in the new resort islands lagoon, meaning we can get out of here and spend the night at the new houses built on the Island.”

No words could describe the feeling in your stomach. You were sickened by your behaviour. How selfish of you to think that Jin would do anything but bring the two of you to safety. You wanted to say something, anything that could make the situation better. To let Jin know you were sorry.

“I should have just left you in the ocean.” Jin muttered as he pushed himself up from the cave floor. It wasn’t meant for you to hear. He’d just said it out of anger, but you couldn’t help the sadness that washed over your body. So, as he started walking, clearly familiar with the place, you followed him. Like a stray puppy, looking for someone to bring them in. Anyone to give them shelter.

You didn’t say a single word as Jin led you up towards the surface, the storm still raging on. You could hear it in the caves, more and more so the closer you came to the surface. Nothing could have prepared you for the real deal however.

The rain was lashing down on the island. The water pressure in your shower was like a slow drip compared to this. The force it struck down was enough to make it hurt when it hit your skin. The wind took hold of the trees, making it look like they could snap in half at any second. You needed to find shelter, fast.

Jin looked to his left, instantly finding what he was looking for. One of the guest houses stood only 10 meters from the cave. He turned toward you, sighing, and roughly grabbed your hand. He didn’t say anything, still clearly upset with you. He had every reason to be, but still, he didn’t want to risk losing you out in the storm.

He started sprinting, his free hand held over his face, shielding him from the lashing rain and wind. You did the same, covering your face as you followed him closely.

When you reached the house. Jin lifted the mat in front of the front door to reveal a key laying under it. He unlocked the door, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. He opened the door and waited for you to get in before he closed it. The sound of the storm could still be heard inside the house and you were both thankful to have a roof over your head. Especially with night time approaching.

While trying to catch your breath, you began looking around at your temporary shelter. The decoration of the house had a modern style mixed with tropical vibes. The white fabric of the couch matched the curtains and the frames on the paintings that covered the walls. The furniture in the living room and adjoining dining space were made of bamboo. The walls of the open concept room had oak paneling, giving the place a rustic island vibe.. Green plants were placed around the house to give it a pop of colour. Your mouth was slightly agape, it was much more beautifully decorated than the guest rooms on the main island.

While you were busy looking at the house, Jin was busy exploring it. Checking the kitchen for food and water first. Not much there besides a welcoming basket and some food the construction worker must have left behind. The toilet was plain and simple, toilet,sink, and shower. The bedroom only had one double bed. Why couldn’t any of the big family houses have been any closer? Jin let out an annoyed sigh.

He now had to fight you over the bed. There was no way your stubborn ass was just going to hand it over to him. You started walking around the house quietly, looking into the bedroom and Jin braced himself. Ready for an argument that he had to win. No way was he going to sleep on the small couch with his wide shoulders and suffer all night.

“You can take the bed. I’ll take the couch.” You suddenly announced, walking past Jin to get to the bathroom. You were freezing and you needed to change into something warmer. Dragging your cold soaking wet wetsuit down your body, you placed it on the shower floor. Your bikini following suit. Taking the white kimono that was hanging beside the shower to wrap around your body. The white silk felt expensive and breezy around your body. Probably made for the beach under the hot glazing sun.

While you had been changing, Jin had taken off his wetsuit as well. Going around in his swim trunks as he tried to make sense of you. Almost shaking his head at himself for not having his priorities straight. He needed to eat and drink. His basic human needs that were somehow overthrown by you. He couldn’t help it. He just couldn’t make any sense of you.

One minute, you are screaming at him, telling him that you don’t even want to breathe the same air as him. Next, you are dancing with him, well, you could have been drunk out of your mind that time actually. Arguing again but for some reason agree the next morning to help him? To throw yourself in his arms and later on, shout at him again.

And now, you had just given him the bed. Without a fight, without anything. Jin couldn’t understand anything. He couldn’t understand you at all. So, he decided to do something he did understand and knew how to handle. Cook some dinner for the two of you, well, with whatever he could find in the kitchen.

It would be an early dinner, but he didn’t think you would complain. You did go out on the waters with him without eating any breakfast, wanting to get out on the water as soon as possible in fear of the storm. And later on, sleeping through lunch in the caves.

As you walked out of the bathroom, you were blessed with the sight of Jin shirtless in his swimming trunks. Hanging low, so low you could see the beginning of his v-line. You wanted to get closer. Wanted to know what he would feel like against your skin. To have his body move against yours.

He was cooking something on the stove. The faint smell of vegetables reached your nose as you took a deep breath. Your mouth salivated at the thought of finally eating something. Jin hummed as he stirred the two pots. You wanted to know what he was cooking and so, you walked up to him.

He didn’t notice you until you stood next to him. As he looked down on your body, he could see the outline of your boobs through the thin fabric. His cock instantly twitched at the delicious sight that was now in front of him.

Jin was quickly drawn from his thoughts when one of the pot’s contents started to boil, the hot drop of water landing on his arm. He jumped back, his reflexes doing all the work for him. His other hand pressed against the area where he’d burned himself.

“Are you okay?” You hadn’t quite understood what had happened, but your instinct told you to take hold of Jin’s arm. With your small hands compared to Jin’s, you moved his hands away. Examining the area where the water drop had hit. A little red but otherwise than that, it was fine.

At your sudden caring nature, Jin was caught off guard. He was supposed to be mad at you, but how could he be when you held his arm so tenderly? With your fingertips that grazed over his skin so lightly, checking for any bruising.

Pulling his arm back from you he muttered ‘I’m fine’ before he went back to cooking.The house, just like every house on the island, where stored with canned food. In case of an emergency or storm. Canned beans, rice and some sauce was enough for Jin to make a stew for the both of you.

Jin took the pots of the stove. You blinked a few times, confused at Jin’s sudden outburst before you heard him say- “Dinner’s ready.”

The two of you eat in silence. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as you thought it would be. Jin’s cooking skills were really good, given the few ingredients he had, he managed to make something really tasty. For that, you were grateful.

When you finished eating your dinner, you waited for Jin to finish his. Sitting at the dinner table, you looked out of the big window. Rain poured down, wind catching the trees of the island. Making them sway. Oh, how you were thankful at this very moment to be inside with a roof over your head.

Jin watched you, when your focus was somewhere else, he could admire your beauty. If only that beauty could match your personality. He knew you weren’t as cold as you tried to be towards him. You were one of the most liked workers on the resort, your bright caring personality being behind it. So, why were you so hell bent on hating Jin?

“Why do you hate me?” Jin spoke, breaking the silence. You looked at him confused, not catching what he said at first.

“Why do you hate me?” He repeated. You gulped as you looked down on the floor.

“Why is that important now?” You asked, and he scoffed.

“Don’t I deserve to know after I saved your life? Come one y/n, you always dodge this question whenever I ask you. Just be honest for once.” Jin had a point. You did always avoid the question. Most often, you got mad because he didn’t already know. Well, maybe it was time for you to just tell him.

“The first summer I worked here…” you began, looking away as you could not look him in the eyes. “You stole my date.”

“Your date?” Jin questioned, trying to think about what you could have meant by that. You quickly grew annoyed.

“Yes, my date, the boy I was with all night at the beach party. The boy you stole from me and took back to your room doing God knows what.” At your words, Jin started laughing hysterically.

“What?!” You questioned. The boy shook his head, fighting tears coming out of his eyes from laughing to hard.

"You are not gonna believe me when I tell you. This is so funny.” He said and you waited for him to continue. Wanting to know what he meant by that.

“You flirted with my friend Sam, who happened to have a girlfriend at the time.” He explained and an ‘ohh’ left your lips.

“So yeah… I took him back to my room so he could sleep it off. I knew he had been fighting with his girlfriend that night and didn’t want you to get caught up in anything.” Well, that did explain a lot, you thought. Still, it didn’t explain why Jin started to steal your hook ups after that.

“Okay, I get that…” you started, “but why did you continue to steal my hook ups over the years?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was jealous?” Jin’s sudden honesty surprised you. It would make sense yes, but why would he be jealous? Unless…

“I’m just gonna head to the bathroom, be back soon.” Jin announced as he left the dinner table, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Focus y/n, there is no way Jin liked you, you thought. Standing up from the table as well, you took both yours and Jin’s empty bowls to the kitchen. As you placed them in the sink you quickly realized you needed to do something to distract yourself. Anything to take your mind off the fact that Jin might like you.

You tried to brush your fingers through your hair, fingers instantly getting stuck in it. You sighed. You hadn’t had enough time to brush your hair before getting out in the ocean. Your hair now a mess. In true little mermaid spirit, you opened the first drawer. Taking a fork, you sat down on the couch, trying your best to detangle your hair.

The sight of you brushing your hair with a fork made Jin chuckle as he opened the bathroom door. His mood instantly lifted. Watching you from afar as you struggled, the fork getting stuck with each stroke.

“You are really taking the Ariel thing to the next level.” He chuckled as he approached you. As you looked towards him, the fork got stuck in your hair. Wincing, you tried pulling it away to no avail.

“Let me help you.” Jin said as he saw how you struggled. He sat down next to you, placing his hand over yours. You removed your hand, allowing him to hold the fork. He sat there for a little while. Removing the hair strands that had gotten stuck around it.

“What’d you try to do? Brush your hair?” He asked and you muttered a ‘yes’. You felt stupid now. To have Jin baby you like this. When you felt the fork being removed, you tried to stand up. Only to have Jin place his hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down.

“Sit still.” He’d order you, and you’d listen. Feeling your ears turning red as carefully separated your hair into smaller sections with his hands. Working his way through it with his fingers, separating what had gotten tangled up earlier today. Skilful hands that worked quickly, but carefully.

Eventually, you started to lean into his touch. Jin’s hands moved over to massage your scalp once they were done untangling your hair. You let out a quiet moan as you took a deep breath. The sound made Jin want to bend your over this couch right here, right now.

He stopped massaging your hair, ready to move away from you before he wouldn’t be able to resist those urges. Before he could move, you’d already turned your head. As you looked him in the eyes, head tilted upwards, you wanted nothing more than to have him closer. Jin felt the same as unknown forces pushed you together. No longer able to deny the obvious.

You looked down, staring at his lip. Oh, how you wished you could just taste them. You bit your lip, silencing the whine coming from your mouth at the thought of it. As Jin looked where your focus was, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

Grabbing your face with one hand, he roughly placed his lips over yours. You were surprised for a second but quickly melted into the fierce kiss, kissing him back with even more desire. Taking hold of your hair with his other hand, Jin pulled your head to the side. Your lips disconnected as he started working his way down your neck, kissing every part of it.

“This okay?” He’d ask as he placed a sweet kiss just below your ear. You hummed and that was all Jin needed to continue working on his art. He wanted to mark you. To let everyone know you were his. You let out a moan when his lips brushed over your sweet spot. Jin smirked against your neck before he sucked roughly on your sweet spot. Earning yet another moan from you.

“You like it princess? Like it when I mark you up so everyone knows who you belong to?”

“Yes Jin.” You moaned, allowing lust to completely take over your body. As Jin continued to mark you up, leaving hickey’s wherever he pleased, his hands started to trail your body.

“Let me know if you want me to stop.” You trusted him, knowing you could stop at any time. But hearing those words made you feel butterflies in your stomach. You felt reassured, happy and safe.

Jin’s hands moved to slip under your kimono, your nipples already hard as he began playing with them. Circling, twisting and pulling, Jin took his time with them. You could feel your arousal when you shifted your legs, desperately trying to find any friction that could relieve your aching core.

Jin noticed how you squirmed, and he could barely believe it. He had you all to himself now, squirming under his hands. Your body moved on its own accord. Breathless moans and whines leaving your mouth that only made Jin harder. You could feel him now. As you pressed your backside backwards, you could feel his hard cock against your butt cheek.

He wanted to devour you and he couldn’t wait any longer. You started growing impatient, complaining as Jin started to move away from you.

“What’s taking you so long?” You whined only to hear him scoff. As you turned your head around, you were met with his burning gaze.

“I don’t remember Ariel being able to speak on her vacation to the surface. I think we need to change that.” Jin spoke and you were reminded of the movie, how the princess voice was taken away from her in exchange for her to be able to walk on land. You couldn’t believe he was still referencing it. “On your knees princess.”

You did as you were told. Jin parted his legs, allowing you to sit in between them. You got down on your knees, looking up at him with pleading eyes. You were, however, not short on your snarky comebacks.

“Now what?”

“Now… we put that mouth to better use. Open up.” Opening your mouth, you waited while Jin took off his swimming trunks. The second his half hard cock springed out, your pussy clenched at the sight. It wasn’t the biggest you’d ever seen but it was definitely above average. Your mouth watering at the thought of having him inside any of your holes.

His hand grabbing hold of your hair, this time not as roughly as he guided you to his cock. With your lips wrapped around it you teased the tip for a bit before Jin pulled you further down on it. The feeling so heavenly that you closed your eyes. Still holding your hair, Jin bobbed your head up and down his length. Your moans muffled by the cock in your mouth.

“It seems like we solved our little problem. Your voice seems to be gone princess.” You only moaned more at Jin’s dirty talk. Feeling your arousal drip down your thighs at this point as there was no underwear to stop it. The kimono being your only piece of clothing. Your pussy clenched at the thought of being so wet that you were leaking down on the floor.

“Can’t talk with your mouth stuffed with cock, now can you?” As he mocked you, you swirl your tongue around his tip. A firm grip with your hand around the base, pumping what you couldn't fit in your mouth. Earning a moan from Jin, his head thrown backwards against the couch. His eyes closed as he breathlessly asked you. "Can you take it deeper princess?"

You responded by taking him further down. The tip of his dick resting at the beginning of your throat. Taking a deep breath, you tried taking him further, only for your gag reflex to kick in.

Gagging on his dick, you pulled him out. Still holding your hand firmly around his dick. Pumping his length as you rested your mouth and throat for a while. Jin sat up, stroking your hair before tilting your head upwards. His hand resting on your chin as he did.

When you met his eyes, you saw that they were filled with concern. His gaze soft as he looked into your tear filled eyes.

"Hey, hey… You don't have to…" He reassured, but you shook your head. His hand letting go of your face as you did.

"I want to." You wanted so badly to take his dick down your throat. To watch him fall apart because of you. You weren't even in the mood to tease him. You just wanted to make him cum.

It just that it had been a while since you… well… had given anyone a blowjob. Too busy studying at university and Jin cockblocking you all summer. He wasn’t exactly small either.

Determined, you tried again. You almost choked at first, suppressing the feeling as you heard Jin groan. This time, you took him down your throat a little further than the first time. Taking a deep breath through your nose, holding it in. The sounds that came out of his mouth were more than enough to encourage you.

This time, you could almost take all of him down, bobbing your head up and down his length. His cock grazing your throat each time, your cheeks hollow. Wanting Jin to cum, wanting him so desperately to be at your mercy. To be the only one who could pleasure him like this.

“Oh fuck, just like that…” Jin moaned and you felt his cock twitch as you repeated the action. Sucking in your cheeks as much as you could. Hearing his breathing getting more and more ragged the closer to the edge he got. His hands gripping your hair desperately to hold onto anything as he got right to the edge.

“So close… gonna cum…” He warned and you backed away a little, focusing on swirling your tongue around his tip as you let your hands take care of the rest of his girth. Jin cumming inside your mouth as you squeeze his dick a little harder, milking his cum into your mouth. Letting him ride out his orgasm as you sloppy kept one of your hands on his dick, moving slowly up and down. Jaw tired from all the work you had to do.

As Jin slumped down onto the couch, you let go of him completely. Swallowing his cum as you slumped down on the floor as well. Exhausted, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and rest for a bit.

Well, that’s until you felt Jin take hold of you, his hands firmly placed on the side of your boobs as he lifted you up on the couch. Laying you down on the couch as he climbed on top of you.

“Don’t you dare think for one second I’m done with you.” He growled as he wrapped his lips around your niple, sucking on it while he played with the other one with his hand. Taken completely by surprise, you moaned at the sensation. Jin switched between sucking and circling your nipples with his tongue. Occasionally, grazing them with his teeth. Always giving attention to the other nipple that he didn't have his mouth on with his hand.

Your pussy aching to be touched by now, your legs rubbing together to try and create any friction for your neglected clit. Jin noticed it right away, a smirk on his lips as you started to whine.

“Please Jin…” You pleaded, asking for anything at this point. Taking hold of one of your legs, he hoisted it up on the couch backrest. His other hand taking hold of the other leg, pushing it towards you, spreading you wide open for him. Your pussy clenching and leaking as he kissed your thighs with feather like kisses.

"Don't worry princess, I'll take care of you." His voice deeper as he cooed you. His eyes looked up only to see your glistering pussy, groaning at the sight. The sweet smell of it made him want to taste you even more and stop teasing you.

Giving in, he dived in, parting your legs even further. Spreading you out for even more as he put two of his fingers between your folds, separating them. His tongue vibrated against your clit as he moaned when he finally wrapped his lips around it.

You cried out. Throwing your head back as one of your hands desperately took hold of his hair. Any other day Jin would scold you for ruining his hair but today he couldn’t care less. Not when it felt so good everytime you tugged at it every time he would suck a little harsher, lick a little faster on your clit. The sounds you made, God, you sounded like an angel that was brought down from heaven for him and him only. The sound was like music to his ears.

You truly felt as if you were in heaven. Your orgasm approaching quickly thanks to Jin’s skillful mouth and your general absence from sex. It had been way too long someone had treated you this good. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, you felt Jin tease a finger at your entrance. Tracing it with circle motions, but never entering you.

“Please Jin… just give it to me…” You pleaded and Jin stopped working on your clit. A whine leaving your lips. Bucking your hips into his face in a desperate attempt to get him back where you wanted him. A smirk on his lips as he watched your naked body, the sight of your breasts moving up and down as you breathed heavily. His finger still teased your entrance as you tried to get it, moving your hips.

“Why? So you can rip my hair out even more?” At Jin’s words, you looked down on him. His hair being a mess with your hand gripping it tightly. His dirty blond strands were all over the place. When did you even grip his hair? You thought as you let go of it.

“Sorry…” You mumbled, brushing through it with your hand in an attempt to make it better. Jin only smiled sweetly at you. His lips even more plump, glistering with your wetness. Eyes full of mischief and care.

“It’s okay… You close princess?” The endearing nickname making butterflies fly around in your stomach. You nodded, not trusting your words as Jin was still teasing your entrance.

“Hmm… What else could I do for my princess to make her feel good?” Jin asked playfully and just as you were about to answer him, he slipped his finger inside you. The unsuspected action making you moan. Moving his finger in and out of you slowly.

“Oh maybe that?” Jin playfully said, one of his eyebrows raised as he observed you. A smile on his lips as you kissed your thigh harshly, a whine leaving your lips as he did. Looking up again once he was done with leaving another mark. His finger still moving in and out at a slow pace.

“It’s better where it’s wetter, isn’t it princess?” Jin joked. Of course he would make a fucking ‘the little mermaid’ refrence as he was fingering you, you thought. Wishing he could just stop teasing you and make you cum.

“Bet I could just slip in two… or even three fingers right now… You’d like that princess, wouldn’t you? To feel full?” Jin spoke as he let another finger enter you. You arched your back at the sensation as Jin continued. “Fuck you’re wet, you’re taking my fingers so well princess. Could you handle another?”

You chanted out ‘yes, yes, yes’ as you wanted was more of Jin. More of him. He added a third finger and you clenched around them, loving how full you felt. Moaning when Jin curled his fingers inside you, finding your g-spot.

“Does it feel good like this?” He asked and you responded by moaning, a satisfied smile on his lips. Happy with your response. “Just you wait until I finally get to fuck you and you’ll feel my dick inside you. Oh what I would do to be inside you right now.”

The thought of Jin being inside you was too much, you almost came at the thought of it. How he would probably put you in whatever position he pleased, anywhere and everywhere he wanted. Fucking you so deep and hard you wouldn’t be able to walk for days.

“Please… Just make me cum… I can’t…” You pleaded, asking Jin to have mercy on you as your legs started to tremble. Feeling as your eyes started to water. The overstimulation was almost too much for you.

“Shh princess, I got you. You can let go whenever.” He cooed before going down on you again. Speeding up his fingers just a little as he wrapped his lips around your clit. Taking you over the edge the moment he started sucking on it. Slowing down his fingers and kitty licking your clit as you rode down your high quite literally. Bucking your hips as you tried to get away from Jin, your oversensitivity quickly kicking in once you came down.

Jin pulled out his fingers as he continued eating you. Long strokes with his tongue as he collected all your wetness, savouring the taste of you. Cleaning you up until you started pushing him away due to the slight pain coming with your oversensitivity.

“Alright, alright.” Jin laughed, getting up from the couch. Standing in front of you, he held out his hand for you to take.

"Want to join me in the shower?" With the wonderful bliss that you felt after your orgasm still lingering in your body, you nodded. You had just seen him naked and he had seen you. There was no harm in it, right?

Taking his hand, you followed him into the bathroom. Jin had already turned on the water in the shower as you entered the bathroom. Both of you stepped into the shower once the water was hot enough. The water soothing against your burning skin. Still hot from all your previous activities. You closed your eyes for a moment.

While you were standing there, content, Jin observed you. Watching as the water dropped down your body. Making your skin look like it glowed. A sigh of relief leaving your lips as you brushed your hand through your detangled hair. Jin thought he was the luckiest man on earth.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, and you opened your eyes. His gaze was soft and you felt safe under it. As if he was some angel sent to watch over you, to make sure you were safe. Despite the near death experience and the storm raging on outside, you did feel safe. Because of him. His presence, caring nature and genuine concern for you.

Who were you to deserve a man like that? Your thoughts started to spiral, the smile you had on your face faded. A sigh of disappointment leaving your lips, and Jin noticed it.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just need some space, some time… I’ll just go to sleep and we’ll talk about it tomorrow?” You quietly said, biting your lip. Holding in the tears that so desperately wanted to roll down your cheeks. Jin didn’t deserve your crap, and you certainly didn’t deserve him.

“Yeah… of course.” His voice, equally quiet as yours. Jin didn’t know where all of this came from, but he wasn’t going to push you. Much had happened in the last 12 hours after all. Maybe you didn’t have any feelings for him. Maybe he was just imagining it all. A bitter truth that Jin was beginning to accept as you nodded at his response before you left the shower. Leaving him alone with his thoughts.

As you laid on the couch, covered in a blanket that barely gave you any heat, you waited for Jin to go to bed. He spent more time in the shower than you thought he would. Holding in your tears, hiding underneath the blanket as you waited for Jin to go to sleep.

When you heard the bedroom door close, you let all of your feelings out. Sobbing into the blanket, your body shaking from all the sadness it had been filled with. You wanted to let it all out. Pouring your heart out as the storm drowned out your cries.

You didn’t deserve him. The moment he had called you beautiful, you couldn’t help but to think it was all unreal. It was just a dream. A moment the two of you had shared. Nothing more, nothing less. Tomorrow, when the building crew that is working on the island comes to work, you’ll be saved. Everything will go back to the way it was. Right?

But how were you supposed to hate him when you… No. There was no way you had fallen for Jin. Kim Seokjin who made it his life mission to make your life as difficult as possible. Who always stole your hook-ups for selfish reasons. Yeah, there was no way you were falling for him.

But if you weren’t, then why did it hurt so much? Why did it hurt so much to see him disappointed in you? See him sad, see him hurt, see him almost dying. Why did your body ache at the thought of not being good enough for him? Why did you feel as if you wanted to throw up when you thought about all the hurtful things you’d told him for years. Jin was right about one thing, he should have left you in the ocean.

You said you wanted space which was the only reason Jin didn’t leave the bedroom to console you. Hearing your cries made his heart ache, but he began to understand why you’d said you needed space. It was all probably very overwhelming for you. While he might have had a crush on your for years now, this was most likely all new to you. Or so he’d like to think. Why else were you crying on the couch right now instead of joining him on the bed?

Two sleepless hours of crying later and you admitted defeat. You wouldn’t be able to ever fall asleep, at least not like this. You needed to make things right with Jin. How else were you supposed to be able to wake up tomorrow? To face him?

You threw off the blanket and got up from the couch. With goosebumps on your skin, just the thin kimono covering your body, you made your way over to the bedroom. You dragged your feet across the floor, head hanging low knocking lightly before opening the door. Jin was laying on his side underneath the covers. His hair splayed out on the pillow, looking like an angel from what you saw in the dark. The occasional flashes from the lightning giving you a glimpse of his features. Almost asleep as you quietly made your way over to the bed.

He opened his eyes to see you awkwardly standing beside the bed. Looking for the right words to say as you twiddled with your thumbs. Looking down as you took a deep breath, not daring to look Jin in the eyes.

“I’m sorry…” You begin with, unsure what you were apologizing for really but you knew you had a lot of apologizing to do. “... for the things I’ve said… and done… I just-”

“Shh it’s alright.” Jin interrupts you, taking hold of the covers, pulling them aside. “Just come here, we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

He invited you to his bed, despite everything, without hesitation. You really didn’t deserve him, you thought as you climbed into the bed. Laying down next to him, he pulled the covers over the both of you. His arm sneaking around your body to pull you closer to him. You almost let out a yelp out of surprise but quickly relaxed in his embrace. His body flushed against yours.

“I’m so sorry Jin, for-”

“I know, I know y/n… You’re forgiven, I promise... Just try and get some sleep okay?” Jin promises and you respond with a quiet ‘okay’. Jin rarely said your name and so, you felt that his promise to you was genuine. Finally, you were able to breath without it feeling as if someone was sitting on your chest. Closing your eyes, you moved your head around a little before finding a comfortable position to sleep in.

“Good night y/n.”

“Good night Jin.”

The following morning, you woke up in Jin’s arms. Hearing him snoring slightly behind you. You chuckled, your chest vibrating, waking Jin up. Groaning, he pulled you even closer to him, almost squeezing you.

“Don’t even think about leaving the bed for another hour.” He warned, voice hoarse and you snorted.

“As if, you’re so warm and the rest of the house is so cold.” As the words leave your mouth, Jin let’s go of your body a little. His voice being more steady now as he starts to tease you.

“Yah… are you using me for my warmth? I’m deeply hurt.” You chuckled and Jin couldn’t help but to smile as he felt your whole body being filled with joy.

“Maybe…” You teased back. You hadn't felt so happy in several months as you did right in this moment. With Jin beside you, the sun suddenly wasn’t as bright. Jin’s warmth was brighter than anything you had ever felt before.

“That’s it.” You heard Jin say before he attacked you. Strong arms gripping around your body to give him all the leverage he needed to tickle you. His hands skillfully drawing out high pitched screams from you as he tickled your stomach. Your legs and arms fly everywhere as you try to get away from him.

“JIN... NO... PLEASE…” You managed to say in between laughs. Being the gentleman he is, he stopped at last. Growing tired of holding you still enough for him to be able to tickle you.

You weren't convinced that he was done however, thinking you finally somehow escaped his embrace. One idea came to mind. You climbed on top of him. Taking hold of his wrists to either side of his face. His goofy smile shined back at you.

“Pinning me down first thing in the morning. If you wanted me that bad you should have just told me princess.” He teased, knowing you would be embarrassed. With your ears now red you looked away from him. Letting go of his wrists as you bit your lip. Suddenly thinking of last night's thoughts.

“Aww… and I thought we were just about to get kinky...” Jin whined and you ignored him, too caught up in your own thoughts. Suddenly painfully aware your core was right above his dick. You needed to have a discussion about this, about what the two of you are before you could do anything else. You needed to focus.

You turned your head towards him, meeting Jin’s eyes. “Can you have a serious conversation with me, even though I’m sitting on top of you?”

“Is that even a question?” He snorted and you slapped him lightly on the arm. Offended, Jin rubbed the area where you’d just slapped him with his other hand. Letting out a sigh as he sees you crossing your arms. Ignoring how delightful your boobs looked underneath the thin kimono as you did so. Reminded of last night's events suddenly.

“Yes I can.” He said, knowing you probably had things you wanted to say. Considering he didn’t let you last night.

You think for a few seconds before you begin. “Jin… You’re so much more than I ever thought. So much better than whatever villain version I was painting up in my head and I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I probably don’t deserve you or this, whatever this is and I’m honestly scared…” You confessed. As you had started speaking, Jin had soothening rubbed circles on your things. Looking into his eyes as you continued.

“I think I want something… But that’s only of course if you want something... Maybe this was just a one time thing for you…” You started to ramble and Jin takes you by surprise as he sets up.His face being only inches away from yours. Staring deeply into your eyes, he caressed your face.

“Of course I want something with you.” He soothed and you let out a breath of relief.

“Okay that’s good… Well… I guess what I wanted to say was… Can we take it slow? Figure it all out before we move further?”

“What’s further than my dick down your throat and my tongue inside your pussy? Me inside you? Assplay?” Jin joked and you shook your head out of disbelief. Though you couldn’t help that the thought of it awoke a certain type of need in you.

“I seriously can’t with-” Before you could finish your sentence, Jin had already pressed his lips against yours. Softly and playfully kissing you as you giggled into the kiss. Annoyed that you weren’t able to focus on him, only laughing in his face (literally) he moved onto your neck. Pressing feather light kisses to it. Only a man could stop himself for so long when he had a beautiful girl confessing she wanted something with him, half naked on his lap. He wanted you, and he wanted you now.

You were both interrupted by loud noises coming from the outside. As you tried to listen, you suddenly heard your name being shouted followed by Jin’s. The rescue team was here. You almost threw yourself off the bed in surprise. Jin groaning as you left his lap, his head thrown back.

“Really? We are about to be saved from being stranded, and you’re complaining?” You questioned and Jin scrunched his face shaking his head lightly.

“Yah, why do you have to say it like that? I wouldn’t exactly mind if they came an hour later or so. That’s all.” Jin said as he got up from the bed. Stretching his back as he yawned with his arms up in the air. You laughed, shaking your head before you replied to him.

“Come on now… let’s go home.”

The rest of the day was spent in meetings with your boss and other people higher up at the resort. They apologized profusely for what you and Jin had to go through. Offering you a week off to just enjoy your time at the resort. Jin had denied the offer quickly, saying you will work as usual and that they will be contacted by his lawyer regarding the incident.

You’d left the meeting earlier than Jin, he reassured that he would take care of it. It was enough for your exhausted body to give in and go back to your apartment. You wanted nothing more than to rest for a little while, to let your sore muscles heal.

As you changed into something a little more comfortable, you couldn’t help but to think back to the last 24 hours. You and Jin had almost drowned. You were stranded on an island. Well, inside a fancy hotel resort condo but nonetheless still stranded. You’d spend so much time with Jin. Seeing a different side of him as you finally allowed yourself to open up to him.

With your mind filled with blissful thoughts of Jin, you fell asleep. Not even bothering to pull down the blinds as the sun shined through your window. Exhausted, you allowed yourself to relax and sleep. To heal from all the bad that came with all the good.

You were woken up from your nap by a knock on the door. Looking at the clock, you realized several hours had gone by and it was suddenly evening. Your room was dark, the sun had gone down already. You were confused as to who could want something from you at this hour, so you dragged yourself out of bed to look. Opening the door, you were met with Jin. A bright smile on his lips as he held two containers of food in his hands. The beginning of something new.

From that point on, Jin didn’t leave the containers outside your door. The two of you always ate dinner together. Making new routines, getting acquainted with the idea of being something other than enemies. Something sweeter. Something more joyful. The best part? You had two months left of the summer to spend together. Two more months of just you and Jin. Bound together by tides that just happened to be right on time.

#bangtanhq #bangtanidx #smutcentralnet #thekimlinenet #BB2020 #seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #seokjin x reader

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p-artsypants · 3 years

Text

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (4)

You’ve Got Me VooDoo’d

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Ao3 | FF.net

“Have either of you talked to Adrien lately?”

Nino scoffed from his place on the couch. “You mean Mr. Roboto? Yeah, he’s been a blast. What did you do, Marinette?”

“Me?! I didn’t do anything!”

“Well he wasn’t this weird until your failed date night.”

“I know that! And I also know that I did nothing wrong!” She scolded.

“Mari’s right,” said Alya. “Sunshine’s transformation is probably a side effect of his dear old dad.”

“What did Gabriel do?” Asked Marinette.

“Don’t you remember? He’s a great designer, and apparently a cool boss, but he’s a super shitty dad.”

“Yeah. But ever since Adrien turned 18, he’s mellowed out. Somewhat.”

“So? He probably cranked it back up. When was the last time you saw Adrien outside of the mansion?”

Marinette blinked. “God, like two weeks ago, before ‘my failed date night’.”

“Exactly. If you ask me, Sunshine is depressed. Or forbidden from showing emotion.”

Marinette clutched at her chest, the very notion sending a throb to her heart.

“I’m going to talk to him tomorrow. I’ll sneak up on him, so Nathalie doesn’t know. Maybe without her talking to him beforehand, he’ll feel more relaxed.”

“That’s a good plan! And if he has a camera in his room?”

“Um…I’ll write a note! Not an email, in case his dad is monitoring it, but an actual, physical note.” It was as good enough of a plan as it could be, though she had neglected to mention to them the tiny detail of Adrien’s document.

‘Your name is Adrien Agreste’ it said.

Why would he be reading such a thing? Did he have amnesia and Gabriel was trying to keep it quiet? Extremely early onset Alzheimer’s? That’s the only thing that made sense.

Still, Marinette opted to not mention this. It was her clue to the mystery. Maybe later.

Just like some magic potion

You fill me with emotion

You control my very soul

You've Got Me Voodoo'd

“You could at least respond with ‘k’.”

The reply was immediate. “K.”

“Oh, so now you’re talking to me?”

“K.”

“Did I do something?”

“K”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“K”

“You’re really pissing me off, Agreste.”

“K”

Marinette put her phone down for her own health. After a morning in the office, and not getting a response from Adrien, she was beyond frustrated.

If he had a problem with her, fine, but they had work to do! He still had a job at the company, outside of being a model, and some of her work relied on him.

It was coming in, slowly, poorly, and mostly wrong. Besides modeling, he was an assistant in sizing, making sure that their clothes were made to be close to the market standard, and flattering for as many possible body types. They did do custom orders, of course, but for the average consumer, it was important that they ordered what they wanted, and received what they expected.

But Adrien’s measurements were wildly wrong. Women’s extra large shirts didn’t gain inches in the bust, waist, and arms respectively, but the whole outfit scaled evenly.

Meaning that if an average small was 16 inches long, instead of gaining one or two inches, it reached down to the knees. Shoulder seams fell halfway down the bicep, and sleeves continued a few inches over their hands.

The models in testing looked like children wearing their parents' clothes.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, I have to ask you about this collection and the…interesting sizing you’ve decided to take.” One of the sales reps asked, right outside her office.

“It’s wrong,” Marinette clarified. “It should have been caught before prototypes were made, but there’s been a hiccup in the production.” She stood, and put on her purse. There was no way to solve this problem without talking to Adrien. And goddamnit, she was going to make him talk!

“See to it that it’s corrected immediately. With Gabriel’s nearly complete absence, this collection is way behind. Aubrey Bourgeois already has her fall collection out!”

“Yes, I know. I’m heading over to the manor now to get some concrete answers. Hopefully by tomorrow, we’ll get our sizing corrected.”

“I hope you do.”

Marinette hurried down the hall, coworkers giving her concerned glances.

It was pretty obvious, even to those who weren’t immediately in the office:

The company was a sinking ship, and Marinette was the only one who had a bucket.

You knew the goddess Venus

Would start this love between us

You inspired me with desire

You've Got Me Voodoo'd

Marinette let herself into the manor, though it wasn’t her day to work there. Thankfully, it seemed like Nathalie was too busy to notice her arrival.

Up at Adrien’s bedroom door, she was about to knock. Then she noticed his door was cracked open.

Surely spying on him slightly wouldn’t be wrong?

She pushed the door open a little more for her to peek through.

On the other side of the room, staring out the window, stood Adrien. And that’s all he did. He just stood looking out the window. The lights in the room were off, backlighting his silhouette. She watched him for a moment, waiting. Nothing.

Then she knocked. “Adrien? Are you decent?”

“Yes, I am.” He spoke formally.

She opened the door fully, and he turned to look at her with the most plastic smile she had ever seen.

He didn’t have his dimples.

“Hello Marinette, it’s nice to see you. I didn’t know you were working here today.”

“Nice to see you too. I haven’t had the chance to talk to you properly the last few days, you’ve been so busy.”

“I have been, I apologize.”

“It’s not your fault. I know how your father is.” She took a seat on the couch, and pulled out her salad from her bag. “Sorry, I’d wait to eat with you, but I’m so hungry.”

“You may eat. I understand.” Though he just stared at her, still smiling, and still standing.

“Are you going to sit?”

“I can.” He sat next to her, leaving a cushion of space in-between. Normally, he would practically be in her lap.

“You don’t need to be so formal, you know. We’re alone.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

She frowned slightly. “You don’t need to apologize. Just like...relax.”

Adrien looked at her, before exhaling loudly and sinking into the couch more. “Is this relaxed enough?”

She shrugged.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Doing?”

“Yeah, you’ve been acting super weird lately.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Weird? How so?”

“I don’t know, stiff? Formal? Just kind of...stand off-ish. And forgetful. There've been some pretty obvious mistakes in sizing for this collection, and you approved them. You haven’t been in the office the last few days, so I was worried.”

He considered this. “I’m sorry if my absence caused you any inconveniences. I wasn’t aware I needed to be at the office.”

She blinked a few times, incredulously. This was absolutely bizarre. “You don’t need to be there, you just usually hang around after shoots or fittings and keep me company.”

“Oh, because we are friends, right? My good friend Marinette.”

“Yes!” She slammed her Tupperware down. “This is what I’m talking about! It’s like you don’t know who I am!”

He frowned, the expression running lines in his face. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I’m having a hard time right now, and I’m kind of exhausted. I’m…kind of confused.”

She took a calming breath. “Okay. I get it. You’re stressed. Let’s talk this out though, okay?”

He twisted up his mouth in thought. “Okay, what would you like to talk about?”

“What’s got you stressed? Is your dad breathing down your neck? Are deadlines too much to handle with modeling too? Do you need a vacation?”

He stared at her, blankly. “I’m not sure. I would have to think about it.”

“Well, you know you can talk to me about anything. I care a lot about you, Adrien.”

“Oh…that’s nice.” He smiled and patted her hand.

It sounded incredibly patronizing. And it hurt.

“What is up with you? You’ve been acting so strange! You’re not the boy I know!”

You knew you had the power

And even picked the hour

When the full moon was up above

I was hypnotized when I looked into your eyes

My heart was filled with love

The unbelievable plastic smile shifted then, relaxing ever so slowly, until it was gone, and it almost seemed like it was never there.

“You should go.” Adrien said, hollowly.

“What?”

“You should leave now. I don’t think you should be here. Does Nathalie know you are here?”

Marinette swallowed. “No, she doesn’t. I mean—I didn’t think you’d mind. You usually like it when I come to hang out…” she looked to the floor, “at least you used to.”

“Please give me thorough warning the next time you need to speak with me.”

She snapped the lid back on her lunch, the second time she had done so. She only had a few bites, just like last time.

And food just didn’t taste as good without him around.

“Fine. You know what? I won’t bother you again. Next time, I’ll send an email, like I do with all my other co-workers.” She slid her lunch into her bag, and stood. “The sizing for this collection needs some serious work, and I’ve been the one to have to fix it, on top of all my other responsibilities. Please do better next time, Mr. Agreste.” She shouldered her bag, and walked out.

Once the door slammed behind her, she let the tears gather in her eyes, but didn’t let them fall.

So it was over then. Her friendship with Adrien, her best friend, was over. And she wasn’t getting an explanation.

“Marinette,” Tikki said, sadly. “It can’t be your fault. You didn’t do anything.”

“I know. And that’s the worst part. Because that means I can’t fix it.”

She left the Agreste mansion that day, not knowing the next time she walked through those doors, life would be completely different.

Just like the siren Circe

You've got me at your mercy

Always to be brave and bold

Mama, You've Got Me Voodoo'd

It was late. Too late for anyone to be calling, and yet, here her phone was ringing. Marinette fumbled for it. Grabbing it and blinding herself with the screen.

It was 3am, and Adrien was calling her.

She loved a late night confession as much as the next girl, but she had a presentation in the morning. What was he thinking?

She hoped it was an apology. Maybe he was finally going to break down and tell her everything that was going wrong.

Or maybe he was going to confess he didn’t actually know how clothing measurements worked and he’d been guessing the whole time.

“Hello?” She grumbled.

“Marinette.” His voice was so stern, so cold, it gave her goosebumps. “Did I wake you?” He asked, softer.

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, but it’s important.”

“Okay. What’s up?”

“I’m sorry.” He breathed. “You were right. I’m not the boy you knew.”

More awake now, she sat up in bed. This had obviously been driving him wild for a while. “We all change, Adrien. It’s okay. If you’re going through something, I’m here for you. Just be honest with me.”

“That’s not—“ he sighed, a growl at the end. “Look, just…I don’t have much time. I don’t know what he—what I was going to tell you that night, but it probably wasn’t good.”

Another voice was on his end of the line. “What are you doing?! Who are you talking to?!”

“Shit. Just look in the basement!”

“What?!”

“How dare you!”

“Let go of me!”

And the line went dead.

What. The. Hell.

She called him back, now completely wide awake.

“Hey there, it’s Adrien, I’m not available to answer right now…”

All the chapter titles are songs from my spooky halloween playlist that inspired this fic (and their lyrics will be in the chapters)! You can find that playlist here. The playlist will be updated as the fic goes on.

I hope to post the last chapter on Halloween!

#ml #miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #adrienette #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #the ghost of Smokey Joe

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hatterstan-shameblog · 3 years

Note

Here is the first one

Second :D

And last..he's looking at you 👀💦

ALRIGHT you know WHAT—

There’s…a lot going on here. So much so, that I have decided to create

CONTEXT

for these three images that is

COMPLETELY FAKE

because I think it’ll be a fun writing exercise. kind of a cringe move on my part, but consider: i have fun making up ridiculous lies about characters who don’t exist in real life.

(which is how I’m treating these, by the way. yes, they are pictures of kaneko nobuaki, but for my purposes, they are NOT actually him. they are distinct fictional characters who are not real.)

so if you’re feeling adventurous skip below the cut and watch me break it down:

Image 1: Accidental “Date” Makes Cousin’s Wedding Less Terrible Than Originally Expected

The year is 1999. Your cousin (who you are not particularly close to) is getting married…on a cruise ship. Your mother insists you attend. You insist upon spending 90% of your time sipping margaritas on the deck and flipping through the latest issue of Marie Claire while trying desperately not to think about the fact that you are surrounded by nothing but open ocean.

One of the (very drunk) bridesmaids tries to toss you a beach ball because you have been, and I quote: like, a total bummer this whole time. She misses. It hits the person next to you in the face. Great. Awesome. You think: well now who’s being, like, a total bummer?

Luckily the person who got hit in the face laughs the entire thing off. He says your friends seem…’lively.’ You say that’s pretty rich coming from a guy who looks like a rejected member of ‘The Clash.’ He insists that he left them, not the other way around.

You slip into conversation. You tell him that you’re here for a wedding. He offers his condolences. You accept them. He says he actually likes weddings—something about two people making a life-changing commitment speaks to him on a soul-level. That and the open bar, of course.

You suggest he crash the wedding. He says he’s not sure if he can make it—there’s a shuffleboard tournament that evening that he would just hate to miss, plus the latest issue of Soap Opera Digest is waiting on his bedside table just begging to be opened. You say that’s perfectly understandable, but, if he suddenly finds himself caught up on the latest All My Children gossip, he can meet you back here at four.

Surprise, surprise: he shows up. He’s wearing the same shirt he was before, but buttoned up this time—and with one of the most hideous neckties you’ve ever seen, which he apparently borrowed from the kind old man next door. Instead of complimenting his attire (because it is truly un-compliment-able), you take the opportunity to mention that this is a Titanic-themed wedding. He says that having a Titanic-themed wedding on a cruise ship is “kind of fucked up” and you solemnly agree.

Everyone is very surprised and pleased to see that you’ve brought a date—even the bride, who tells you that you’re “just like Jack and Rose.” You agree, much to her delight…until you say that, if the ship goes down, you also won’t share the door and let him freeze to death in the icy water. He insists he’d be the guy who jumps off the ship and hits his leg on the propellor—that’s his favorite part of the whole movie, and it’d be an honor to re-enact the scene.

The wedding is…a wedding. Vows, toasts, pictures—and you’re sipping champagne through the entire thing. The two of you spend the evening getting completely wasted and telling everyone a different story about just who your ‘mystery date’ is. Highlights include: the captain’s unruly son whose been tasked with following in his father’s sea-faring footsteps; professional cave-diver who discovered a new species of slug and is spending his reward money on a nice vacation; head of marketing who gives all those clever names to the nail polishes at OPI; the guy who folds everyone’s towels into animal shapes.

You end up where you started: on neighboring lounge chairs, with a margarita, and talking to this stranger who has recently crossed into “acquaintance” territory. You chat about how “My Heart Will Go On” is actually a good song, and he promises not to tell anyone that you said that. He also says that this is the best Titanic-themed cruise ship wedding he’s ever been to, and he can’t wait until somebody decides to do Jaws.

Eventually, you both stagger back to your rooms with promises of seeing each other at breakfast. Unfortunately, you have the worst hangover of your life the next morning and even the thought of ‘breakfast’ makes you want to roll over and die, so you don’t manage to stumble out of bed until it’s time to disembark.

You see him at port, and you each offer each other a little wave before going your separate ways. Six weeks later, you get a Polaroid of the two of you together, sitting at the bar and laughing at something that must have been very, very hilarious.

You don’t remember most of what happened that night, but you remember it was not as terrible as it could have been.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Image 2: Extremely Weird Guy On The Street Has You Questioning Your Sanity

It’s 6:00 in the morning—a truly terrible time to be awake, but a necessary evil. Your flight leaves at 10, and since it’s an international thing, you want to make sure you get there in plenty of time to get to your gate (and maybe sample all the fancy perfumes you can’t afford at one of those high-end stores that are always in airports.)

The streets are mostly empty, save for a few random pedestrians and a handful of passed-out salarymen snoozing on the curb. The sky a rainy gray-blue as the sun tries to rise behind the springtime cloud cover—it’s no doubt going to be another dismal day, as is common during this time of year. Hopefully there’s not too much turbulence on your flight…

You stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the little walking man signal to show up on the light across the way. You’re soon joined by another person—a man in a soft-looking jacket who supplies you with a small “good morning” bob of his head. You respond in kind, throwing in a small smile for good measure. It’s nice that he too understands that it’s entirely too early to be having any kind of conversation, even if it is just a simple verbal greeting between strangers on a street corner.

The light changes, and you both begin your trek across the street. Your fellow walker is faster than you—or, more likely, has longer legs and, ergo, a longer stride than your own—and is nearly halfway across by the time you get your wheeled suitcase over the curb. He seems decent enough. You hope he’s going somewhere nice.

It’s then that you make the mistake of looking up. It would have been much better if you had just continued watching the white painted lines on the road and thinking about how it reminds you of piano keys—and how you hated the six months of piano lessons your parents forced you to take in the first grade.

But no. You noticed someone walking towards you, and you just had to look up.

The first thing you notice is a rainbow tie-dye shirt. The second thing you notice is that the rainbow tie-dye shirt is on a very cheerful looking gentleman, who seemed to be bobbing his head in time with a song only he could hear.

The third thing you notice—and this one’s the real kicker—is the large blue-and-green reptile sitting on his shoulder. It’s bulging eyes are hooded in pleasure as it’s red-pink tongue darts out to eat the green something—maybe a grape or a small piece of melon?—from the rainbow tie-dye man’s hand. It is nothing short of a spectacle, honestly, and you feel a piece of your sanity evaporate.

The rainbow tie-dye man continues on, uncaring of your confused stare at his strange pet. You even turn around to make sure that you weren’t somehow hallucinating, and sure enough, there is definitely some kind of creature draped over this stranger’s shoulder. It’s tail even sways in time with the man’s steps, which is both cute and confusing.

Because it would not do to stand in the middle of the street all day, considering the existence of rainbow tie-dye man and his exotic pet, you do the only thing you can do: turn back around and continue on your journey. You need a coffee. Maybe with an extra shot of espresso, after witnessing whatever the hell that was. Something to set you right again.

“Was that…?”

The other man—the soft-coat long-stride one—is speaking low enough as to not draw attention, but loud enough for you to hear as you make your way towards the sidewalk. His expression reads ‘concerned, but trying not to show it’ which you suppose is the polite and mature way of handling the situation.

“…an iguana? Yeah,” you answer him, “I saw it too.”

The man’s brow furrows. His mouth puckers into a small frown as he considers…well, something.

“…Okay, then,” he concludes, shrugging his shoulders, “Hell of a way to start the day.”

“Yeah.”

And you both continue on your way. He turns left at the next intersection, you turn right—but even though your paths may now be different, you will forever share an unbreakable bond over the fantastical sight you’ve witnessed today.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Image 3: Near Death Experience At Open Mic Night

You are not a poet.

Well, not professionally, anyways. You’ve been known to dabble in the written word, often scribbling little snippets of rhyme in a notebook over your lunch break or tapping a verse or two into the notes app on your phone. It a kind of outlet, you suppose—a way to keep the creative energy that bubbles inside of you from boiling over.

It’s also worth mentioning that you are not a confident public speaker. Not since that unfortunate incident in the third grade where you forgot the single line you had in the school play and ran off stage, tears streaming down your face and—actually, no, you’re not going to think about that right now. Or ever again, hopefully.

So when your (tipsy) coworkers decide that it’s a good idea to push you onto the stage at the local dive bar’s open mic night—while shouting at you to “read the one about the night-blooming jasmine”—you freeze up. There are at least seven strangers staring at you, expectation rising with every passing second of your inaction. It’s nerve-wracking in the way that the third-grade incident was not, and you gulp against the nervousness that rises in your throat.

Shaking hands scroll frantically through your phone, looking for the requested poem—and after a few agonizing moments, you manage to find it. Your voice cracks rather embarrassingly as you begin to read, trying your damndest to get the words out right so you can slink back to the bar and drown the rest of the night in Chardonnay.

Everything is going well—or, at least, as well as can be expected—until you notice that the room is suddenly feeling very hot. That’s the last coherent thought you have before the room goes dark and everything falls silent.

Next thing you know, you’re staring at the ceiling. A man who you do not know is leaning over you, and his mouth is moving—oh, he’s probably trying to say something to you, but it’s very difficult to tell what he’s saying over the throbbing pain in the back of your head.

You ask him if you’re dead. It’s a possibility after all, that you’ve somehow died and landed yourself in some kind of special public-speaking hell. That’s what this feels like, anyways.

The man says no, you are not dead. You say ‘dammit’ in response. He tries to hold back laughter, offering to help you up by extending his hand. You take it and—ouch, ugh, ew, going from laying to standing is not a fun experience.

You thank him (albeit awkwardly) for helping you up, and he insists that ‘it’s cool.’ Passing out in front of an audience is not even remotely cool, but you nod and thank him again, anyways.

Before you’re able to converse with the helpful stranger any further, your coworkers have come to collect you. You are whisked away by someone from accounting, who offers to escort you home—an offer you gladly accept, very excited to leave the site of your failure behind you.

Safe to say, you never go back to that particular bar again.

#writings and such #thought you’d get me with a thirst post WELL I JUST THREW DOWN AN UNO REVERSE CARD BAYBEEEEE #‘he’s looking at you’ YOU TRYNA MAKE ME BLUSH CUZ ITS WORKIN OKAY???#fun fact: the second one was inspired by MULTIPLE real-life events #can’t wait to wake up tomorrow morning and regret this <3

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prorevenge · 4 years

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I help someone get revenge on their gold-digging ass of an SO

This happened some years ago but was just reminded of it, so here you go Tumblr!

I worked as a front desk agent in a large luxury hotel chain for some years. One particular hotel I worked at was located really close to the downtown area and so we got a large number of young, very wealthy, business people who loved to party. I usually worked the 2nd & 3rd shifts which meant I got to see loads of drunken hookups, breakups, cheating, hookers, and more.

This particular one though...this is one I will never forget.

I was working at the desk when a group of young, well-dressed men come walking in. They've all clearly been drinking, but aren't so drunk that they can't walk right and hold a conversation.

One of them comes up to me and tells me that while he and his friends were at the bar, a woman was hitting on him, and even though he told her no multiple times she wouldn't stop. So he and his friends left and it wasn't until they got in the Uber that he realized he didn't have his room key anymore. He thinks she took it and he's concerned that she may come up to his room, he asked that I deactivate his keys and if she does come up to the hotel to not let her in.

When he was telling me all of this, it didn't sit right with me. He and his friends were all grinning about it and snickering amongst one another. Then he gave a clear description of her, without being asked. Told me height, body shape, hair color, and style, the kind of dress she was wearing. All while saying it in a mocking tone.

Now, this could have easily been because he thought the whole thing was ridiculous or was too drunk to take it seriously, but it really didn't sound right to me. Either way, I did as I was trained in that situation. I pulled up his reservation, deactivated the keys as requested, made him a new set when he showed me his ID, and even offered to move him to a new room if that would make him feel more comfortable. He and his buddies all laughed a little at that and he declined, took the keys and they went to their room.

About an hour or so later, the woman he described showed up. Now, by this point, my relief for the night had also shown up and was sitting at the front desk while I was in the back office counting down my cash drawer. I hadn't had a chance to tell him about the woman. Just as I'm walking out of the back office with my bag and about to leave, I see my coworker buzz the doors open and the woman comes rushing in, cuts through the lobby and down the hall to the elevators. She was barefoot, holding her heels in her hands, and knew exactly where she was going.

I rushed up to him and told him what the man from before had told me about her. My coworker looked at me confused. He then pointed to the screen that had the reservation pulled up and told me that when the woman arrived, she went to use the room keys and they didn't work. So he asked for her room number and last name, she gave both and her name is on the reservation. I looked at the reservation and down in the notes, there was a woman's name listed. The man from before was listed as the primary, but her name was listed as secondary with his consent to be in the room.

I was confused, I thought maybe she wasn't the same woman he was talking about. But, to be on the safe side I called the man in his room and told him the situation and that we allowed a woman, fitting that description he gave, to enter the building because she confirmed her name was on the room. He laughed, said he forgot her name was on the room and asked that I remove it. I was now super confused, I asked to make sure:

Me: "Sir...just to be clear, the woman you met at the bar tonight was with you at check-in hours ago and was allowed keys then, but now she is not?"

Him: (laughs to all his friends in the room) "Awww....guys I confused the poor girl." (gets back on the phone with me) "Yeah sweetheart, she's banned from the room. Don't worry about the other details, just take her name off."

Me: "...I see. Then, if she isn't going to be on the room anymore, would you like us to call the police and have her removed from the property?"

Him: "Hahaha...woah! That's too far there. Don't worry, she'll get the hint soon enough."

We ended the call there and I got really suspicious of this. I told my coworker to not do anything and that I was going to stick around for a bit to see if anything happened.

A short time later the woman came off the elevator, pouring tears, sobbing while on the phone with someone. She sat down in our lobby and my coworker and I tried to look busy while eavesdropping hard on her phone call.

She was sobbing on the phone to her mom and sister. From what she told them, she was invited out to spend the week with her boyfriend meeting all of his old college buddies. This being their first-night they all met up for dinner and drinks. After a bit, she went to the restroom and when she came back she caught her boyfriend hitting on another woman. His friends all bet that he wouldn't do it. When she confronted him pissed off, he called her a bunch of names and humiliated her in front of his friends and the entire bar. All of his friends joined in on mocking her and he threw in her face that she was "nothing without him" and dumped her right there. He and his friends then took an Uber back and left her stranded at the bar with no money and no way back. She then had to use her phone's GPS and walk back to the hotel from the bar, barefoot (she had heels, and walking 2 miles in those was not going to cut it). She was asking her mom and sister for help as he wouldn't let her in the room to get her luggage or her wallet.

My heart broke. I felt horrible. I helped this guy treat this poor woman like crap and now he and all his friends were up there laughing at her while she's sitting in our lobby sobbing and with nothing. I went over to our snacks area in the lobby, grabbed her a bottled water, and brought it to her. I told her that I couldn't help but overhear the conversation and was very sorry for her situation and asked if she would like us to help. I informed her that if he was keeping her from getting to her things, we could call the police and have them force him to hand over her things so she could leave if she'd like. Or if she wanted to let her mom or sister pay for a room we'd be happy to give her a very low rate in a room far from him.

She thanked me, took the water, and tried to calm down and talk to me about what all was happening and what her options were. Eventually, we decided on her staying in the hotel for the night and figuring out the rest in the morning. As we make it to the desk, she asks me to try and run her credit card to see if it has enough on it for another room. I ask her what she means by "another room" and she tells me that she's actually paying for the room he's in. That his name is on the room because he booked it, but it's her card paying for everything.

This intrigued me. I asked why she was paying for the room if it was in his name. She told me that she's the one with a job, not him. That he hasn't been able to find a job in his field since graduating from college and is essentially living off of his parents' money. But just after they started dating, his parents cut him off, so he's been living off of her money. That's why she was so upset and confused by how he had been acting all night, he was sweet and doing everything for her back home, but since he met up with his friends he did a 180 and hasn't been the same guy the entire time.

I wanted to tell her that it was obvious he was using her for the money and that he would probably blame his friends for all of this and try to get back with her later on. But I doubted she would have listened to me or cared for a complete stranger to butt in on her personal life like that. So instead, I offered up a sweet piece of revenge.

I informed her that, considering she's the one paying for the room, if she can confirm that it is her card on file with some sort of photo ID and verify the last 4 digits of the card number (That's honestly all this hotel company required) then she could, if she wanted to, kick him out of the room and keep it all to herself. But, considering how poorly her night has been, if she were indeed able to prove she is the one paying for the room, then I'd be more than happy to provide for her the biggest luxury upgrade we offered at our property. Largest suite we had, full hotel ammenity access, I'd even have my coworker fish out a bottle of champagne and some fresh strawberries for her to have sent to her room. All free of charge.

She was taken aback by the offer and was very sincerely tempted, she looked like she was about to say no. Then I told her that since she would be upgrading her room, that would require moving her things from that room and into her new one. Which mean the room that she is currently listed in would need to be vacated immediately, if anyone were to remain in the room after we have demanded it be vacated, we are required to have them escorted off the property or they pay for the room. Their choice.

She then thought about it, pulled up her card's banking app and showed me the screen. It had a photo of her, her full name, the card's full number, and the hold from our hotel for the room. She asked if that worked. It was good enough for me.

I quickly upgraded her, moved everything over in the system and before I could say a word to my coworker he was already grabbing a set of master keys, a bell cart and was asking her what her luggage looked like since he would be the one retrieving it for her to deliver to her room. He didn't want her to have to deal with her ex again. She smiled and told him which ones were hers and that she hadn't unpacked yet.

My coworker runs down to the elevators and up to fetch her things. While I make her a new set of keys and send her off to her new room. Once she's on the elevator, my phone at the desk starts ringing. It's the ex-boyfriend and he's very angry about why my coworker has entered the room and is taking her things. I calmly explain that I cannot give out the private information of any of our guests and that if he would like to remain in his room he will need to pay for it as there is no longer a method of payment on his room.

He. Blew. Up.

He's making a ton of demands and at the same time yelling at my coworker to stop what he's doing, but its obvious from the way he's yelling at him that my coworker isn't listening to him. I can even hear the guy's friends telling him to chill out and just pay for the room.

I then explain that we will give him a courtesy 10 mins to make a decision. At which point, if he doesn't have payment ready then he must vacate the building or we will be forced to call the authorities and have him evicted. He continues to yell at me. He screams, swears, threatens, and yells for a solid minute before taking a breath. I then tell him he has 9 mins remaining and asks if he has come to a decision yet. He hangs up on me.

9 minutes later I call the room and he doesn't answer. I call again, no answer. I call a third time, he picks up, then immediately hangs up. I call the police and tell them what's going on and they said they're on their way.

The officers arrive, I tell them what's going on, we go up to the room together and the man and his friends are all white as ghosts when they see the cops. The cops explain to the ex-boyfriend and his friends that they're being evicted. The ex-bf starts trying to talk to me but the cops stop him and tell him to only talk to them (I told him about his attitude on the phone before). The friends are all offering to pay for the room at this point and the cops look to me and ask if that would be acceptable. I smile very sweetly and say "no" and the cops nod and start rushing all of the guys to grab their things and leave the room. The ex-bf is the last one out the door carrying his 2 bags and complaining that he isn't even given a luggage cart and has to carry his own things. His friends all look pissed at him.

I go with the officers to escort all of them out of the building and run into my coworker in the lobby. He waits until they're all outside in the parking lot to tell me that the woman is in her new room, loves it, and said no to the champagne, she just wanted to sleep.

I didn't get to see her before she left town the next day, but the ex-bf did try calling our hotel to complain a number of times and even tried leaving some bad reviews of us online and lied through all of it. I hope she doesn't have to ever deal with him again.

(source) story by (/u/Anonymous_Annie5523)

#prorevenge #by /u/Anonymous_Annie5523 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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imaginesandinserts · 4 years

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Irreverent Pt. 32 - The Ball

Title: Irreverent Pt. 32 - The Ball Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: R Words: 3024

Irreverent Series Masterlist

Jack had had a sleepover the night prior and his friend had just left. The two boys barely slept all night and you and Hotch could both tell that Jack was exhausted. So, at the first sign of a yawn, you nudged him towards his room for a nap. You'd come over in the morning to help with breakfast because Aaron had been on his own the night before. You would've joined, but he'd insisted he could handle it and had pushed you to go hang out with Penelope and Emily instead. You hadn't told the team - even Emily - about the two of you yet. It had only been a couple of weeks since your first date and both of you wanted to keep this to yourselves for the time being.

You had, however, discussed telling Strauss. With the Ball nearly upon you, you figured you should tell her and make the relationship official sooner rather than alter to avoid having it seem as though you were hiding it. Aaron had agreed, though you could tell he didn't love having Strauss know his business. The two of them still had somewhat of an antagonistic relationship ever since she'd questioned his ability to lead the team soon after his divorce. When he'd told you about this, you'd been shocked. That would have been right around when you joined the team, and while yes he had been more subdued and quick to anger those first few months, you had hardly seen reason for Strauss to have questioned his leadership.

"Jack's asleep," you told him, when you found him in his room, finishing up folding the laundry. The yawn you'd been suppressing for a while finally came out.

He smiled at you as he folded the last shirt. "Sleepy?"

"Mm a little. Emily is seeing someone new and so of course Penelope pulled out her computer and now I know that he has a cousin in Utah that was arrested for a misdemeanor charge in 2006," you explained, as you helped him put the clothes away in his closet. You appreciated that Aaron was a very neat and orderly person. Everything had a spot and it was just how you would've done it yourself.

"Well," he said conspiratorially, as he came and hugged your from behind, "Jack is taking a nap. We could also take a nap."

He was holding you so close and he smelled just like his Irish Spring soap and musk and something sweet that was uniquely him. "I hope you actually mean a nap," you mumbled, as you felt his lips against your neck "because that sounds amazing."

He gave a low chuckle as he dragged you over to the bed so you both could lay down. You laid down right next to him, his arm under you as you slung an arm over his stomach and your leg over his. You were quiet for a few minutes, as he tried to let you actually sleep. His hands played gently with your hair and Aaron always ran so warm it was like sleeping with a personal heater. However, now that you were actually lying down, sleep was elusive. You tilted your head up to see him watching you with a slight smile on his face.

"That's not sleeping," he murmured, as he continued to gently massage your head. You'd always liked having someone play with your hair - it was so soothing.

"I'm not actually sleepy anymore," you admitted with a small pout.

"Hmm." His voice was still low and quiet, in the hope that you might be lulled into a nap anyways.

You reached up to his face, a single finger tracing the outline of his face, down his perfect nose, across his pink lips. You'd really allowed yourself to appreciate him lately and it continued to amaze you how breathtakingly beautiful he was. Part of you couldn't believe you hadn't noticed it before but the other part knew that you hadn't let yourself go there. He seemed to be enjoying your exploration as he closed his eyes and just let your fingers ghost over his features.

"Aaron?"

"Mmhm."

"Where do you want to be after the BAU?"

He opened his eyes to look at you, not expecting the question. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know…I guess with the Ball approaching and us talking about my career and future and all that…I guess I just kind of wondered. What's next for you?"

He let out a large breath as you sat up slightly on your elbows to look at him properly.

"I don't know. When I first started I wanted to do the whole move up thing, but the longer I'm here I don't know if I'm suited for that." He had a far away look on his face - like it was a thought from so long ago that it was entirely removed from the person he was now.

"Why not?" you asked, as you watched him carefully.

"It's a lot of paperwork and a lot of…difficult decisions. With the BAU it's more clear cut - we catch bad guys. Occasionally things are more complicated, but overall I feel like I do good in the world and I get to go home and not worry about the politics of moving up."

"Hmm," you said, coming back down to lay on his chest again.

"What is it?"

"I think Director Hotchner has a nice ring to it," you shared, pressing a kiss to his chest.

"Director?" You could hear the amusement in his voice.

"Yeah, you'd be a great Director for the Bureau." You really truly believed that. He was such a great leader who commanded respect - yours and everyone else's.

"Well I'm glad I have someone's vote," he laughed, trying to brush off what you'd said. That was an ambition for the old him - the one that had just had a kid and was married to Haley and had a whole life in front of him.

"You'll always have mine," you confided, as you hugged him closer, burrowing in more to his side. "McKinney should be scared."

He had a really soft, perfect, I-am-Aaron-Hotchner-and-I-make-women-swoon smile on his face as he looked at you. Aaron brought his arms around you at that, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sure he's shaking in his boots as we speak."

*------------*

The meeting with Strauss had gone as well as could be expected really. You and Hotch had asked to meet with her early in the day, before anyone else got there and when you'd explained that you needed to declare an official relationship, she hadn't seemed all that surprised. Which was surprising to you at the very least.

"Have you told your team yet," she'd asked, as both you and Hotch sat in her office and filled out the required paperwork.

"No, not yet." Aaron had responded quickly, not looking up as he said it, concentrating on filling out all the details.

You smiled and looked at her, knowing you had to compensate for his utter dislike of this whole situation. "We just want to keep it to ourselves for now," you'd explained. "It's hard enough working with profilers without everyone knowing everything."

She'd nodded understandingly, but added, "Well, I doubt anyone would be too surprised. I wouldn't wait too long if I were you."

Aaron had simply smiled and stood up, but Strauss asked you to stay behind for a moment.

You looked at her in question as he walked out and closed the door behind him.

"You should know that this could impact the tapping process. I will do my best to ensure that it doesn't, however situations such as this can raise some eyebrows. Are you sure about this?"

You thought about what she was implying, turning to look at the seat Aaron had vacated just a moment ago, before looking back at her. "He's worth it." The answer came easily. It was just that simple.

*------------*

The night of the FBI Director's Ball came sooner than expected. You'd chosen to get ready beforehand with the girls, and the four of you had made a day of it. Aaron saw you when you entered the venue, having arrived only minutes earlier himself. You walked in with Emily and you were wearing a dark green gown which complimented you perfectly.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

Aaron startled, only to see Dave standing next to him in a matching tux, with a shit-eating grin on his face. Sometimes he forgot that Dave knew, since the rest of the team still didn't. He grabbed the drink proffered by Dave and rolled his eyes good naturedly. No use denying he'd been staring. "How're you liking her odds tonight?" he chose to ask instead, changing the subject.

It was common knowledge that the annual Director's Ball was where up and coming talent was recognized. Aaron himself hadn't gone through the tapping process, but had heard of Bureau stars who were tapped at the Ball, go on to lead new taskforces, teams, and missions - have great careers within the Bureau and beyond it.

"Good," Dave responded, taking a swig of his drink. "I spoke with Erin about it and she still seems pretty confident in her recommendation. She did have to bring up the matter of you two to McKinney, and the final decision will be his."

Aaron nodded as he saw you approach with the rest of the team. Everyone had decided to meet up early on and grab a table together, so you all began to walk over. Aaron conveniently made sure to find himself right beside you. "You look beautiful," he said, leaning in just barely. He saw the slight blush rise to your face as he complimented you, his eyes running appreciatively over you again.

"Thanks," you smiled, "you look pretty good too." He really did. The man could always pull off a suit, but a tux was just a whole new level of attractive.

He pulled out your chair for you as the group found an empty table in the main room and grabbed the seat right next to you. Emily had grabbed the one on your other side and everyone else had found a spot around the table. Past years, the Ball had been nothing more than an excuse to drink and eat on the Bureau's dime and have fun with your coworkers. This year, however, you had to network and get to know other Section Chiefs and anyone who rolled up directly to McKinney. Both Hotch and Rossi had told you that having all of those people on your side was of the utmost importance. Aaron had already been helping you out in that regard, making sure to bring you along to some inter-departmental meetings and getting your name and face out in front of other leaders. You'd asked if he was giving you special treatment, as you couldn't recall him having done this for anyone else. However, he had assured you that he was not, and that if Reid or JJ to want to move along a similar path, he'd do the same for them. Prentiss and Morgan had a lot more experience and connections of their own, so they wouldn't need him to run interference as much.

Once dinner concluded, the string band started playing ballroom music. You all watched as some coworkers began to lead their partners out onto the dance floor. Derek quickly asked Penelope to dance as well, and the two of them were off, with Will and JJ joining them soon after.

"Alright kiddo, let's do this." Rossi reached for your hand across the table and you quickly accepted, allowing him to lead you out onto the dance floor. He knew that with you, he'd at least be guaranteed a decent partner - Emily had both left feet.

"He's right, you know," Rossi said, as he gently spun you around the dance floor, "you do look beautiful."

You smiled. It was nice having someone know about the two of you.

"You really think I have a chance tonight?" Dave had some experience in this matter - more so than you or Aaron.

"They'd be idiots not to pick you." As he said this, the music changed, and Director McKinney had walked over to ask Rossi for your hand. Rossi graciously handed you off, swaying back to the table for his tenth drink of the night.

McKinney smiled at you and respectfully took your hand in his, his other at your waist. "Hello Agent L/N."

"Good evening, sir." Your heart was thudding in your chest, knowing this was the moment.

"You dance very well," he remarked, as he easily led you through the motions.

"I used to dance as a kid. Not easy to forget." You quickly flashed back to the numerous recitals and lessons - most of which your parents had missed.

"I see." He looked contemplative. Sighing, he says, "You should know, the recent revelation of your relationship complicated the decision making process slightly."

You choose to just nod, not trusting yourself to say anything constructive.

"However, I would like to inform you that you can consider yourself officially tapped."

You felt your heart jump as a large smile broke out across your face. "Thank you sir! I really appreciate it."

"You will be working with me directly. You should also know, the only reason this process was not pushed off the tracks is because it is Aaron you're with."

You looked at him in question, imploring him to continue.

"Agent Hotchner is above reproach. Were it anyone else, we'd have questions about the recommendations and reviews. However, I trust Aaron and so I trust that the two of you have done your due diligence and kept everything above board."

"We have, sir. Thank you. I very much appreciate the opportunity."

As he continues to spin you, you catch Aaron's eye over McKinney's shoulder. You quickly shoot him a grin and a wink, indicating that you got it. His face breaks out into the biggest smile, and you can see him making his way towards you through the crowd. He reaches the two of you right as the music changes, and seeing Aaron approach, McKinney stops.

"Aaron, good to see you."

"Director, how are you?"

The two of them shake hands and exchange pleasantries, before McKinney takes your leave to tend to other guests, promising to have his assistant get in touch with you very soon. Aaron takes that as an opportunity to grab your hand for the upcoming dances, pulling you in much closer than Rossi or McKinney had.

"Congratulations sweetheart," he whispers into your ear as he holds you close, swaying along to the music.

You look up at him and it takes everything in you to not kiss him right there in front of everyone. He catches the look in your eye, because he maneuvers the two of you to a corner of the dance floor where no one on the team is around. Squeezing your hand, he quickly looks around, before leading you off the end and out a side door. Having seen a supply closet across the way, he urges you to follow inside, closing the door behind.

Before you could take another breath, his mouth is greedily on yours, tasting you and drawing out a breathy moan, his name on your lips. Your back is pressed up sharply against a shelf, but the need to just touch him and feel him far surpasses the discomfort. You find yourself unbuttoning his shirt, just to be able to feel skin while he continues to explore your mouth.

His hands have worked their way under the dress and his hands roamed upwards and came in contact with your bare ass. Aaron pulls away, a little surprised at the thong, before returning to his exploration.

You'd managed to open up the collar of his shirt and move your mouth from his, resulting in a whine that turns into a moan as your lips come in contact with his neck. The desire to mark him as yours is something new you're experiencing, but your dedication to the task at hand rewards you with more sounds.

Not satisfied being alone in his ecstasy, Aaron's hand grazes over your breast, drawing a sharp inhale from you as a knot starts to form in your stomach.

"Do you like that?" his voice smooth despite him being a moaning mess a second earlier. You watch as his fingers ghost over your breast and your nipple hardens under his touch. "What about that?" He looks up finally to meet your eyes and his pupils are dilated beyond belief. Briefly you wonder what you must look like.

You'd never really pegged yourself for being much of a talker, but having Aaron talk to you as he touched you was definitely a turn on. You nod shakily, prompting him to cup your breast and run his thumb over the bud, maintaining his eyes on yours. You're afraid you're going to be too loud, so you reach up and kiss him again, allowing him to swallow your moans as he continues his ministrations. You can feel the dampness growing in your underwear and you swear you blacked out for a second when he breaks away from your mouth and takes a nipple into his mouth instead, biting gently through the fabric of your dress.

"Aaron!" You meant for it to be a sharp rebuke but instead what came out could really only be a groan of pleasure.

He looked up at you with false innocence, knowing exactly the effect he'd had on you. However, taking note of where you two were at the moment, he returns his attention to your mouth with promises of continuing later.

By the time the two of you leave the supply closet, trying not to look as though you'd spent the past thirty minutes engaged in intense foreplay, the party was dwindling down and your friends had been looking for you for quite some time.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds reader insert #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotchner imagine #hotchner x you #hotchner x reader #irreverentseries

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lyssismagical · 4 years

Note

Could you write a prompt for Peter having a bad mental health day and Tony being there for him?

Peter doesn’t have bad days frequently. Not anymore, at least. Spider-Man has been the greatest outlet for all the dark clouds, and he rarely ever has the time to think, let alone fall into the bad.

If he doesn’t think too much, the thoughts, the bad thoughts, don’t have the time to chance to prey. They don’t have the chance to dig their claws into his chest and drag him down.

So when winter hits, worse than it normally does, and his heater breaks after he takes a tumble into the river again, Tony forbids him from patrolling for a week.

A week over winter break, without homework or Spider-Man. He can’t even use Ned as a distraction because he takes a vacation to Hawaii with his family every winter break. Even MJ, who’s notoriously unoccupied, always prepared to stitch Peter up whenever he shows up on her fire escape, even she’s busy. Her dad took her on a road trip to Florida to get away from the nasty New York snow.

And as though the universe doesn’t hate him enough, May offered to take up a bunch of shifts at the hospital to give her coworkers some time off over winter break. Meaning Peter’s at Tony’s for the whole week with just his thoughts to keep him company.

So when Tony slips into his room at nearly two in the afternoon, he’s really not surprised to find the heaviness that curls around his chest has returned, the ache behind his eyes has returned, and his throat feels clogged with apologies for ending up back here, back in this dark pit he sometimes stumbles into.

“Hey, kiddo. Friday told me you were up and I kinda figured this was some sort of teenager thing to stay in bed until the afternoon, but I was a little worried when you didn’t come down for any lab time,” Tony explains as he sits down on the edge of Peter’s bed.

Every ounce of effort has disappeared, lost somewhere in the wreckage left behind. The silence that creeps along makes the apologies swell in his throat, threatening to spill out in a mess of uncertainty and fear, he’s sure he’d be apologizing for the wrong things anyways.

“You okay?” Tony asks. He leans down to gently brush a curl off Peter’s forehead, touch careful but warm and easy. “You being quiet is never a good thing in my books.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter says. There’s a lot to be sorry for. “I’m really sorry.”

He wants to apologize for everything. Everything from the time he spilt ice cream on his mom’s pretty yellow dress to Ben’s death to failing Tony time and time again to now for not being enough.

None of that comes out. Instead, he just stares, listless and unfocused, at the wall behind Tony. It’s still grey, not having been painted a nicer color since it changed from a guest room to Peter’s room. There’s an old Iron Man poster thumbtacked to the wall, corners curling in and color fading.

Peter thinks about how he’s just like that poster, curling into himself and fading.

“What’s going on, kid? You’re not hiding any injuries from me, are you?”

Peter wonders if that would be better. If injuries, if making the internal pain external, if turning the invisible visible, if that would be better, if that would change the outcomes.

He shakes his head anyways because he can’t really feel, let alone hurt.

This, though, makes Tony’s shoulders droop a little bit, a quiet hum escaping him like this is worse.

“Bad day?” Tony guesses.

It’s like a secret code.

He remembers Ben saying that after Peter’s parents died. Ben used to lie on the couch somedays, unkempt and tired more than anything. May would brush back his hair, plant a kiss on his forehead like she had the magic touch of true love that would fix Ben up, and she’d ask Bad Day?

Peter picked it up, he supposes, because he used to do the same to May after Ben died. He was too young to carry the weight on his shoulders, but May was too tired to do it, so he wasn’t given a choice. He went out as Spider-Man and he did his homework, he’d buy takeout and do the chores, he even learned how to do the laundry to keep the weight off May’s back.

When he’d get home to find her curled up on their old couch, quilt tucked around her shoulders, and old gameshow reruns muted on the TV, he’d brush back her hair, plant a kiss on her forehead, and ask Bad Day?

Tony, on the other hand, doesn’t kiss his forehead. Peter’s too old to believe in the magic of true love’s kiss with its capabilities to fix anything, anyway.

“Yeah.” Peter’s voice is hoarse and scratchy when it comes out, and he wants to draw the word back in as soon as it’s in the air. He’s used to lying when it comes to questions like that, used to bearing the weight on his shoulders, used to asking the question not answering.

“Oh, buddy.”

Tony manages to sound sadder now than he did a few nights before when he’d fished Peter out of the Hudson.

“I’m sorry,” Peter repeats, a broken record of apologies.

Tony shakes his head, slipping into the space beside Peter, laying down with their sides touching from their shoulders to their knees.

This changes everything. It throws the entire universe of sorry’s and bad day’s and repetition offbeat. Instead of forcing him out of his safe haven, Tony’s simply joining him.

It’s not about trying to drag him out of the dark pit he’s dropped into, it’s just keeping him company in his misery.

“You wanna talk about it?” Tony says eventually, after the silence has settled and time had started to blur.

Peter blinks a few times, slowly and pointlessly, like he used to do back when he still needed glasses and wasn’t wearing them. Tony nudges him in the ribs a little bit when Peter takes too long to answer.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Anything you want. Pepper always got me to talk about it, there was always something, you know? Once it’s off your chest, it’s easier to deal with.”

There’s so many things Peter could say, so many admissions, so many apologies. His mouth stays shut, though. There’s so many, but none of them are the right ones to pick.

On one hand, nothing causes these days, there’s no reason for Peter to have fallen again, but, on the other hand, it could easily be argued that it’s the buildup of everything that’s caused it.

Either way, words aren’t particularly easy.

“Thank you,” Peter says because it’s the last coherent thought he’s had, the only thing that bounces around his head amongst the sea of apologies. “For- For being here, for doing this. I, uh, I’m sorry.”

Tony, instead of answering or trying any of the pointless pep talks or attempting words of comfort, he takes Peter’s hand in his.

Eventually, Tony will drag Peter out of bed. They’ll go to a nearby all-day breakfast place in their pajamas at four in the afternoon. Tony will tell the corniest dad jokes he can come up and Peter will eat all the pancakes he can, movements becoming less mechanical and more subconscious, eyes sparking with light. By the time they get home, it might as well be dinnertime, but Tony puts on Lilo and Stitch instead and digs some ice cream out of the freezer, Blue Raspberry Spider-Man with his signature red and blue colors, and they’ll curl up on the couch together. Peter will talk about all the whys and they’ll properly make an attempt to fix all of it.

For now, though, it’s enough for Tony to run his thumb over Peter’s knuckles and for Peter to let his head fall onto Tony’s shoulder.

It’s enough to lay side by side in Peter’s safe haven until he’s ready to face getting up.

It’s enough to simply have company in his misery.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina @spideygirl2003 @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester @emo-girl10

#lyss answers #lyss writes #this is kinda messy but i'm writing with a migraine at 5am so??#oops can you tell this is a vent fic #unrelated but my eye has been twitching for nearly three months and im losing my mind please #irondad #irondad fic #Irondad and Spiderson #spiderson #tony stark #peter parker #irondad fanfiction

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hankwritten · 3 years

Text

No Thru Traffic

Gen, 1k

Part of the DontNeedADiscord Pride Week, Day 6: Parade

“I’m really sorry Administrator,” I coughed into my tissue. “It really is- achoo-! It really is that bad. But at least it came after I got all that work done yesterday, right?”

The slightly pixelated Administrator on the other end of the Zoom call did not chime in in agreement. She narrowed her eyes, and I swallowed, hoping the sweat beading down the side of my face added to the charade.

After several tense seconds, the Administrator said, “very well. But I expect you early tomorrow morning to make up for the lost contracts.”

“Oh d-definitely,” I sniffed. “I’m sure it’ll be c-cleared up by tomorrow,”

“It better be. Administrator out.”

Her face hung frozen for a half second before the call dropped, replaced by a black void on my screen. I cautiously closed the webcam cover, just in case.

Then, I flew into a frenzy, wiping off the makeup I’d used put fake bags under the eyes. From my nose I removed two stubs of tissue, and took in a glorious breath now that I was freed from stuffy-nostrils. The sweat was real though. I’d never lied to the Administrator before, never to her face, and the sudden adrenaline as I realized what I’d just pulled off threatened to jitter me out of my skin.

“Yes!” I said, punching the air. “Ha! I did it!”

The exultation was short lived, as my head whipped to where my laptop was still sitting open. The call was over but…better be extra safe and power that off before I go.

I changed out of the grubby, sick-girl pajamas, and went to my closet. Habitually, my hand went to one of my numerous purple tops, but stopped just short of the hanger. Was this what I was going to wear, today of all days? Same boring work clothes I did for the other three hundred sixty-four days a year? I drew my hand back and frowned.

Screw it. Who knew when the next time I’d work up the nerve to do this again?

I began shoving hangers aside, heavy with their deep whooshing as I sorted through dozens and dozens of painfully similar button downs. Sometimes there was even a dress! How original! So I just kept searching and searching until-

There! Right at the back: an orange Hawaiian shirt I’d worn exactly once, back when I’d been forced to take my government mandated vacation. I pulled it on with gusto.

The tangles came free from my hair—I hadn’t brushed it yet that morning in order to give it that “sickly” look—and then I was in front of the bathroom mirror. Biting my lip, I looked down at the facepaints I’d bought on an impulse, thinking at the time I could paint little flags on my cheeks, but now that the time was upon me I wondered if it was too much. Already I was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, how much more wild was I willing to get?

But, well, since I’d already bought them…

Fifteen minutes later, I examined myself in the mirror again, and gave a relieved sigh. Hadn’t managed to smudge a thing!

Sensible shoes, my bus pass, and then I was off.

The parade was vibrant, so much better in person instead of looking at YouTube clips later and sighing wistfully. My first day off to coincide with it ever, and all I’d had to do was a little office subterfuge. Now, as long as I didn’t end up in any photos, no one would know I’d been here at all! Everything was going to be absolutely-

“-Oof, entschuldigung, I did not see you there.” The man who’d just bumped into me adjusted his glasses. “Miss Pauling?”

“Medic?” I gaped. “What are you doing here?”

“I am here for the parade of course,” he said, gesturing around. He was dressed for it, his usual vest replaced with one of horizontal rainbow stripes. “As are you, I assume.”

“Yes but,” I stumbled over my words. “What about work?”

“Ah, the Voice? I simply told her I was sick.”

I felt my spirits sink. “Did you now.” I rubbed my face, only remembering to avoid the facepaint at the last second. “It’s fine. Great to see you actually. As long as no one else recognizes us I’m sure we’re-”

“Doktor! Miss Pauling!”

“Aw jeez.”

Pushing through the crowd to greet them was the Heavy Weapons Guy—even worse, Engie appeared to be tagging along behind him, discussing a brochure with a unicorn-costume clad Pyro.

“Did not expect to see you here,” Heavy said as he made it to our side of the street. “Thought little Pauling must work.”

“Could say the same to you guys!” I said, irritation creeping into my voice. “Don’t tell me you all just played hookey together?”

“Naw,” Engie replied. “Didn’t know any of these fellers were coming until we all ran into each other.”

“This is bad,” I began to titter. “If we’re here, then who’s at the office?”

“…Is this a bad time to tell you that Demo ‘n Soldier are coming at us from down the street?”

I whipped around. Sure enough, there they were: Soldier with rainbow-striped American flag tied around his shoulders, and Demo with his afro dyed a deep commitment to purple.

“Ahhhhh!” I couldn’t help but let out. “Why did you all have to skip work at the same time as me?”

“We all wanted to come to the parade, lass.” Then, noting my distress, Demo added with a wink, “don’t fret! The old woman won’t know a thing. Currently, I’m home in bed with the measles.”

“The measles,” I deadpanned. I turned to our now rather obstructing group. “And what did the rest of you say?”

“Gingivitis,” Soldier offered.

“Chicken pox.”

“Halitosis.”

“Cat Scratch Fever,” Scout said, taking a bite from a hot dog.

“Scout!” I demanded. “When did you get here?”

He shrugged. “Don’t blame me, I was just following Spy, seeing why he was sneaking around and crap.”

“And I told you,” Spy’s voice replied, “that I was merely following the bushman and seeing what he was up to.”

“Wankers.”

Maybe I should just stop turning around. Then my coworkers would have to stop randomly appearing behind me, right?

“That’s literally everyone,” I berated them all. This time, when I rubbed my palms under my glasses, I did end up smudging the paint, streaks of white and pink running up my cheeks. “Uhg, we’re so screwed. What is the Administrator going to think when she walks in to the office and sees-”

“Absolutely no one?”

Okay. It looked like I’d have to turn around in a horrified manner one more time.

The Administrator parted the crowd around her, not the least because her shoulder pads threatened to stab anyone who got too close. Everyone shrank before her, except for Heavy maybe because I don’t think he has it in him to shrink before anyone.

“Helen,” I started, then cleared my throat. “I guess you uh…took a guess where we all went huh?”

“That I did.” She blinked down at her employees. “I must say I am disappointed. Of course, I expect something like this from these idiots, but from you Miss Pauling? Couldn’t even engineer a decent structural emergency in order to justify shirking your work. At the very least you could have flooded the building, or released feral opossums into the ventilation.”

“HEY NOW,” Soldier barked from the back of the group. “Have you been reading my itinerary? Because it very clearly says SOLDIER’S DAY PLANNER, DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU ARE SOLDIER OTHERWISE I WILL KILL YOU!”

“…Are you saying you wanted me to fabricate an emergency?” I asked, perplexed.

“It would at least have been more convincing than nine separate emails from my employees, all claiming different maladies. One of which was,” she looked at her phone, “‘A Case of the Mondays’.”

“It is actually proven that worker productivity is up to thirty-three percent lower at the beginning of the week,” Medic justified.

The Administrator stared at him. “It’s Thursday.”

“Alright, alright,” Engineer butt in. “I think we can all agree that we may have messed up a little. Told a few harmless lies about medical issues we may or may not have. But that ain’t exclusive to Miss P here! We all’ve been lying ‘round here, and it ain’t fair to single her out.”

“The laborer is right,” Spy agreed. “The blame should fall on all of us.”

One by one, to my amazement, the others spoke up, or nodded in agreement. When I glanced up at the Administrator again, she had an eyebrow raised, as though I had somehow orchestrated this as well.

“I could instruct you all to return to work, you know,” she said. “It is only fair that your recrimination should begin there. However…”

“You showed up, saw how sick it was, and decided you’re going to hang out and eat hot dogs with us instead?” Scout asked.

She glared at him. “I still have work that must be done before the end of the day. But, it appears Miss Pauling has tripled her workload in the week leading up to today, she has effectively removed any urgency from the rest of your duties. Thanks to her foresight, you are technically not needed at the office today.”

“Aih! Way to go lassie!” Demo said, squeezing me around the shoulders until only my toes were on the ground. Similar congratulations were offered, everyone getting in a pat on the back.

“You inspire great loyalty, Miss Pauling,” she said. “But do not let this happen again.” With that she turned, and disappeared into the revelry.

“Wow,” I said. “I think I’m going to have a heart attack now.”

“Have one when the parade is over!” Soldier demanded. “Look! Floats!”

There certainly were floats. As the chatter died down, and everyone celebrated their good luck, I was left standing among my friends with a new appreciation, these people who’d stuck by me when it’d counted. They were a bit of a colorful bunch but, hey, who better to celebrate pride with than them?

#dnadprideweek2021 #tf2 fanfiction

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littleredlie · 3 years

Text

Intervention (S1P4)

Series Masterlist | Master Masterlist

Chicago Med x doctor!OC Morgan Fitzgerald is a doctor at Chicago Medical and she returns back after a two week break. However, we learn that she didn’t spend her entire break off and instead focused on her sister’s murder. Based off S1E11 of Chicago Med

2.3k+ Words (Short chapter)

Featuring: Morgan Fitzgerald, Hayden Everett (mentioned), Will Halstead, Maggie Lockwood, Connor Rhodes, Kevin Atwater, Adam Ruzek, Jay Halstead (mentioned), Sarah Reese Warning: mentions of rape and murder, idk what else ??? A/N: Yikes, I started writing this chapter and ended up writing the next chapter so I had to write the end of this one and the beginning of part 5. This part was hard to write because the episode didn’t have much action to put Morgan in and so I made it a kind of Morgan-centric episode. It’s very shot, I had no idea what I was doing. Part 5 is better and I’ve already started part six. Sorry in advance. And we will never talk about this chapter again.

Part Three

“Hey Morgan, welcome back.”

“Hey Mags, how’re you?” Morgan tosses her stethoscope around her neck and picks up a few papers sitting on the desk.

“Nope, nada. I wanna hear how your vacation went. You’re gone for two weeks and not a single person hears from you. You do not deserve to hear about any work drama until you spill.”

“I think you are being overdramatic. And not that you need to know, but Connor heard from me,” Morgan shrugs, not daring to look at the nurse. Maggie had an eyebrow raised and was giving her a look; it was similar to the one she did during Jay and the doctor’s interaction.

“You two really have history don’t you?”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other for almost 15 years. He knew my sister first, but he and I were just closer.” At the mention of her sister, Maggie sends her friend a soft but the latter still isn’t looking. “And we made this ridiculous promise while we were drunk about how we were always gonna be there for each other, and yet, neither of us have broken that promise.” Morgan is quiet for a second as she thinks about the time she and Connor had as friends, but then she moves on. Like she always does when it comes to her personal life. She never lingers on it long enough for people to try and figure her out. “My vacation though was very quiet. Hayden and I drove up to a resort up north and rented a cabin. We skied, went to spas, ate luxurious food. She had to leave for an assignment early so I just relaxed and did a little research too.”

“So you went all the way to a resort just to work, eventually.”

“The work’s never done Maggie,” with that Morgan leaves with a smile, heading to the first patient of her day. Maggie just watches her receding back.

Before Morgan can make it into her assigned examination room, someone walks up to her, placing a gentle hand on her lower back.

“Hey Fitz,” Connor says, a small smile on his face.

“Fitz? No one’s called me that since med school,” she chuckles fully stopping to look at him. “What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to welcome you back. You look good.”

“Yeah, I guess time off was vital. But I have to know,” she pauses, the anticipation building and Connor waiting. “Does everyone know about Olivia? I’d suspect everyone would come to you for some clarification.”

Connor pauses, contemplating whether or not to spew out a white lie. It was true a few people came and prodded for the truth. And he briefly heard whispered conversations among colleagues before they would stop when he got near, but he knew what the topic was. Connor also knew how private Morgan was. She always had been, and after Olivia’s death she just became more closed off. But she also didn’t like being lied to. “Yeah, people know. I’ve tried to handle it, but it has its own life.”

“I guess it’s okay. I just…. I don’t know.” She shrugs and Connor rests his hands on her upper arms.

“Will you be okay?” His voice is sincere and Morgan wants to hug him, but maybe not right now.

“I will be,” at that Connor is about to pull away but Morgan stops him. “Hey, I wanted to apologize for being a bitch before I left. You know how my family gets me.”

“I understand. I do. And I’ll always give you the space you need.”

“Yeah, I know. But I probably shouldn’t push away my best friend. I need you, especially now.”

Connor pulls Morgan into a quick hug and is going to say something but a commotion arises from the ambulance bay.

“Dr. Rhodes, can you get this, please?” The two doctors pull apart and turn to the pleading charge nurse. “We’re slammed.”

“I’m on it!” He answers back and throws a ‘talk later’ look to Morgan over his shoulder.

She nods back to him and finally turns her direction to her primary goal. With notes open about the patient on the tablet and a smile on her face, Dr. Fitzgerald returns to work.

❦

Three hours later, Morgan is on a roll. Treating patients as quickly and efficiently as she could. She had seen her usual coworkers, except Will. She may or may not have been avoiding him. And it was about to get easier, because after her lunch break she was heading up the OBGYN. She loved emergency medicine, but always felt that there weren’t enough available people in the emergency room that specialized in the field. Just like Connor was pursuing cardiothoracic surgery and Natalie was focused on emergency pediatrics, Morgan focused on obstetric and gynecology emergencies. It interested her just as much as emergency medicine did and after losing a pregnant patient when she first got her match, the choice came easy to her.

“Dr. Fitzgerald.” Maggie calls, pulling the doctor in her direction.

“Yes ma’am. What can I do for you?” Morgan leans her body on the desk as the ensuing chaos of the emergency room flutters around them.

“I just need a signature here for your last patient’s discharge papers.”

“No problem.” Morgan pulls out a pen from her pocket and signs the paperwork. During this, Will siddles up to her. Maggie notices first and wants to usher him away, since she (along with everyone) noticed that Morgan was ignoring him, but the redhead ignored the nurse’s glares and he turned to Morgan, who still hadn't noticed that he was there.

“Morgan.”

Morgan’s plump lips fold into a thin line as a breath catches in her throat, she was avoiding this. Slowly placing the pen back into her jacket, she finally lays her eyes on him. “Dr. Halstead.”

“It’s good to see you back.” He starts, trying to catch her eyes which were fluttering around the hospital floor, evading. “I was hoping we co–” a ringtone interrupts his words and Morgan notices it’s coming from her. She breathes out a sigh of relief when she pulls it out. It may have been petty, but she wanted to stay angry at him a little longer.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” Without a response, she answers the phone without looking at who it is, and walks away. “Hey, are you here?” She asked.

“Yeah, we’re in the parking garage, top floor.” His answer beckons her to start walking to the hospital employee parking lot.

“We?” Morgan questioned.

“Yeah, Adam’s here.”

“Kevin!” She screeches, annoyance bubbling inside her. There was a reason she didn’t ask for Adam’s help.

“He’s my partner Morg, I couldn’t blow him off.” Kevin answers back and she pushes out an agitated sigh.

“Ugh, whatever. I’ll be up there in a few.” Morgan hands up and stuffs her cellphone back into her lab coat pocket.

The weather isn’t bad when Morgan hikes herself up to the top of the parking garage. She can see the two policemen leisurely enjoying a cup of coffee. She’d met Kevin years ago through his younger brother Jordan. The younger kid ended up in the hospital and Morgan was the one to treat him. They got to talking, found out they had some things in common, and it was one of the closest connections she made when she first moved out here and after Olivia’s death. Dating wasn’t an option between them, the way the two cared for each other was something close to two siblings and again, the fact that she dated Jay wasn’t helping. She didn’t want to dip her toe into the police dating pool again.

Morgan knew Adam through Kevin and Jay. And she made the mistake of introducing Adam to her roommate. Those two were quite the pair. Hayden used him as an inside source when it came to her articles and he used her to do things that he as a police officer legally couldn’t do (Morgan wasn’t necessarily supposed to know that though). Together, they made an agreement to warm each other’s bed when it was needed. Morgan of course thought it was stupid as Adam was a mess when it came to his love life, Hayden reassured that it was no strings attached and they were practically best friends when they weren’t sleeping together.

Other than that, Morgan and Adam didn’t have a bad relationship, she didn’t want to ask him this favor because she knew he’d tell Hayden. And Morgan doesn’t want her roommate on her back.

“Hey boys,” Morgan called out to them, her body leaning through the open passenger window. She gives a strained smile to Adam and he gives her one back, knowing why she didn’t ask him to do the favor. Without saying anything, Kevin passes the folder she asked for.

It was surprisingly thinner than what she expected it to be. This killer has been on the loose for a while and she’d hoped that the police would listen to her anonymous tips that tried to tie together all his crimes. But the evidence showed that they didn’t.

“This is all they have Kev?” Morgan flips through the pages, disappointment written on her face.

“Yeah. I tried digging up some more, but that’s all that was available.”

“God, cops are so fucking useless.” She huffs out, completely missing the offended faces on the two detectives. “I have more in my own files than this. I tried taking it in, but I keep getting shut down.”

“Morgan, you can’t do this by yourself.” Adam finally speaks up, placing a hand on her wrist. She pulls her eyes away from the paperwork to him.

“But it seems like no one else wants to do the work. Olivia’s case has gone cold and I feel like the longer that it goes unsolved, the harder it will be to get justice.” Olivia’s throat aches as a sob threatens to creep out. There are tears brimming in her eyes and she turns her body away from the two men.

“I understand that, doc. But, you already have to worry about your patients and yourself.” Adam starts, glancing at Kevin, trying to get his partner to say something. The black man is unsure what to say, he’d recently learned about Morgan’s sister when she first asked him to acquire the files.

“Why don’t we take a look into it?” Kevin says and Adam wants to hit him upside the head. Adam had promised Hayden that he would help Morgan move on, which meant getting Olivia’s investigation out of her mind. If he and Kevin pursued this case, Morgan would never let it rest.

“Would you really do that?” Morgan almost throws herself into the car, hope filling in her chest. “You’d do actual investigating?” Kevin hesitates when he meets eye contact with Adam, but the look on Morgan’s face destroys him.

“Yeah, I’ll try to do some work in between my regular caseload.” There’s a soft smile on Kevin’s face while Adam sighs out then turns his head to look at the giddy doctor.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me Kevin. You too, Adam.” Before the second man could say anything, Morgan’s phone goes off indicating the arrival for one of her pregnant patients. “Looks like I have to go. Why don’t you come over tonight and I’ll give you everything that I have.” She smiles at both of them. “And Adam, please don’t tell Hayden or Jay.”

“Jay?” Adam questions. He understood why she didn’t want him to tell Hayden, but Jay?

“Yeah, Jay. The two of us are in a really good spot right now and I don’t want to jeopardize that anymore that it already has been.” Adam nods, understanding. “I’ll see you guys later.” With that, Morgan makes her way back into the hospital.

❦

Between patients Morgan finds herself peeking into the folder that Kevin gave her. One name stands: Isaac Elway. Apparently, his sister was a victim to the same killer that ended Olivia’s life. Details of the horrific crime, along with her sisters, were displayed in the paperwork. Morgan’s read the information about Olivia’s case numerous times before, but it still breaks her heart and it constantly keeps her up at night.

When she has no more patients, she pulls out a card with number on it. It’s Elway’s. She dials the number, her fingernail being demolished by the teeth in her mouth. She didn’t know why she was so nervous, she’d been searching for answers for years. This was the first time she had heard of Elway and she had to know what he knew. Why was phone number in the file? Was he that important.

The phone rings and anxiety rises in Morgan’s throat. Eventually she had to get answers, that’s why she had Kevin looking into more details. No one answers the other line, just the automated voicemail message and a beep. Morgan quickly debates in her head whether or not to leave a message, but ultimately she does.

“Hi, Mr. Elway this Dr. Morgan Fitzgerald at Gaffney Chicago Medical Center. I am calling in regards to Sabrina Elway’s case file and it’s relation to another case. This isn’t a topic would like to discuss over the phone so I’d appreciate it if you would give me a call back. Thank you.” She hangs up the call and shoves the phone back into the pocket of her scrubs.

“Dr. Fitzgerald, I need an OB consult on a patient?” Dr. Reese pokes her head through the door, oblivious to the emotions ripping the attending.

“Yeah, give me a moment. I’ll be there.” The intern nods her head and retreats back towards the nurse’s central desk.

Morgan watches Sarah leave and then her eyes graze over the presence of her fellow doctors and the patients inhabiting the emergency room. She needed to accept that she will get her answers soon and that she could not speed the process of the world. She couldn’t afford getting distracted or she’d put herself and her patients in danger. She leaves the doctor’s lounge and heads back to her job, finally relinquishing control of her sister’s case.

Part Five

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 4 years

Text

Not Joyce or Monet

PART THIRTY-NINE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: major discussions of parent death/death in general, smoking, drinking, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 6.3K

Summary: Jess publishes his second book and Ella receives a troubling call from Stars Hollow.

Flopping face-first down onto the bed, Ella breathed a sigh of relief. It would have felt strange not to have a little champagne at Jess’s book launch party. But, she was a lightweight. She was floating somewhere between tipsy, buzzed, and drunk. At least she was still capable of slipping off her shoes before making her way to the bedroom. She’d even managed to change into pajamas, brush her teeth, and wash her face. A far cry from the screwdriver incident at Liz’s baby shower. A heavy winter snow fell outside the windows and a touch of cold air seeped into the draughty apartment. Goosebumps rose lightly on her skin. In her state, they felt nice instead of uncomfortable. She was already dozing when Jess came in, having taken a quick shower. His hair was still damp as he climbed into bed next to her, the movement shaking her from her haze.

“Did you like your party?” she murmured, watching as he shut off the lamp and rolled over to face her.

His face was aglow with the bluish light of the snowy Saturday evening. “Mhm.”

She snickered a bit at his nonchalance. “I know you hate parties, but Chris insisted it was the best way to drum up business. And you do like surprises, Mr. Spontaneity. Matthew and I made it as lowkey as we could.”

“It wasn’t so bad, Eleanor. Really,” he said, shrugging. “You’re remembering that you whispered lines from Catch-22 in my ear all night, right?”

“I figured you’d need some Joseph Heller to make it through,” she explained, slightly sheepish.

Jess smiled. “Of course. And watching Chris and Leo get so drunk they do their acapella version of ‘Under Pressure’ could never be bad.”

“Leo does do a damn good Freddie Mercury,” Ella agreed, chuckling. “I didn’t realize the publishing agents would all go blackout level, too.”

“Oh, yeah. You should’ve seen what Chris did for the Subsect launch. It was like that scene where E.T. gets drunk. But if there were fifty aliens in the movie instead of just one,” Jess said flatly, begrudgingly.

“You must be a little drunk if you’re letting a cheesy eighties movie slip. Or have I finally converted you?” she teased, snuggling deeper into the pillow.

Jess smirked. “Not yet. Chris made me try his Manhattans to see if they ‘tasted too much like gasoline.’”

“I have a sneaking suspicion that they did,” Ella said.

“Someone give the lady a prize,” Jess shot back tiredly. “Good thing we walked there.”

“Yeah. And good thing I got to watch you catch a snowflake with your tongue on the way back.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed, cutie,” she said, forcing her laughter down. “I’ll be eating my words when you watch me fall on my ass while we’re ice-skating with April.”

She knew if he’d been entirely sober, he wouldn’t have gotten so caught up in his wonderment at the storm. But Ella had also seen him sticking out his tongue awaiting a snowflake in an old, yellowing photo album Liz had shown off during her baby shower. In it, Jess had been no more than three. Dressed in a raggedy winter jacket on some grimy corner of New York City. He and Liz were sticking their tongues out together. Seeing the photo had given Ella’s mouth a bittersweet taste. It was hard to imagine Jess ever feeling so relaxed around his mother. She saw the same rare awe from him on the walk home. Most of the time, he was so weighed down by the world he could barely come up for air. She thought she had never seen him look so young at heart before.

“Can’t wait,” Jess hummed, mocking. It was nearly time for April’s winter break, and Anna had somehow agreed to let her spend it with Luke, Lorelai, and Rory. Ella and Jess had opted to return to Stars Hollow for Christmas, after the bumps in the road on Thanksgiving. Two more days, and they’d be braving the icy roads on their way up to Connecticut. April had already called them to schedule a time for ice-skating. The proper, analytical way the little girl spoke never failed to amuse Ella.

“Me neither,” Ella quipped as her eyelids began to droop again. She could smell the minty scent of Jess’s shampoo.

As he watched her begin to drift off, he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. From what Matthew had said, Ella had essentially been put in charge of the party when Chris’s trademark irresponsibility made an appearance. Matthew had jury duty and couldn’t assume his usual role of organizer in the wake of Chris’s chaotic decision-making. What she’d managed to throw together, though, was one of the better parties Jess had ever been to. The publishers they knew usually sent younger employees to the underground press launches, and Chris had ended up making friends with most of the usual suspects at the launch for Jess’s first book. Ella had made sure the guest list only included familiar faces. If they just had to throw him a surprise party, which Chris demanded (normally, she wouldn’t have listened, but if it was a matter of getting his book better exposure, she was willing to risk it), she’d try to make it as comfortable for him as possible. Or, at the very least, bearable.

And she’d just gotten done with finals two days earlier. He could see how tired she was. Her nerves over the possibility of seeing her father during the winter holidays hadn’t helped her sleeping recently either. Though Jess wasn’t sure how it would actually pan out, she claimed she wanted an attempt at apologizing for what she’d said at Adam’s graduation. She was sick of family nonsense, she said. Maybe if she levelled the playing field, they could begin to understand each other again. Ella herself wasn’t sure exactly what had sparked her desire to try again with her family, but suspected it might have been Thanksgiving. Jess, simply put, was someone she admired. Seeing him trying to mend his relationships (even though he didn’t have to, even though it was difficult), made her feel just a little more confident. Maybe not everything turned out bad, after all.

Shutting his own eyes, Jess slipped his hand beneath Ella’s shirt, his fingertips ghosting over her back. She smiled softly at his touch, feather-light. A pleasant shiver rolled through her.

“Thank you for the party,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Well, thanks for writing my new favorite book,” she answered instantly, sleepy and sincere. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

. . .

There were still a couple hours left until lunchtime when Ella slipped through the door at Truncheon, but it wasn’t entirely uncommon for her to show up and work a little. Especially when she was on break from school and got antsy. Jess had debated giving her the easel he’d bought her for Christmas early, so she would have something new to focus on while he tied up the odds and ends at the book press. But, ultimately, he wanted to wait until the morning after they returned to Philadelphia. It would be far more surprising to wake up and find a Christmas present wrapped up in the living room on the morning of New Year’s Day than on the actual gift-giving holiday.

When he’d left for his last day of work prior to their trip to Connecticut, she’d still been half asleep. Her sketchbook was open on her bedside table, a pencil drawing of a child with hollow eyes having yet to be shaded. She’d been up late working on it the night before, on a roll. He hadn’t even shut the door to the apartment before she was out cold again. He’d been anxious to get back home, to pack and prepare for the trip. In his opinion, there was no use in only opening for a Monday and then closing for the holidays the rest of the week, but Matthew’s stickler spirit won out. Jess wasn’t going to be skipping around the store in merriment as the rest of the world took a vacation, but he also wasn’t moping around like Chris. He was in the midst of diffusing an argument between his two coworkers when Ella arrived.

He wanted to smile when he saw her, and almost did. But then he got a good look at her hazel eyes, and immediately he could tell something was wrong. It wasn’t that she was sleepy, though she looked a bit haggard in with her peacoat tied around her haphazardly and her hair wild, dotted with the snowflakes falling steadily outside. Instead, she looked almost unreachable. His Eleanor who was always so present and vivid and alive, even in the midst of drudgery. And she wasn’t daydreaming, either. She wasn’t off in her own thoughts, thinking of Emily Dickinson or James Joyce or Claude Monet. No; she was simply not there. Not really.

“Hey, honey. You’re early,” he began as she approached him, where he stood in between Matthew and Chris. The two of them didn’t even notice she’d come in until Jess addressed her, still too caught up in their argument over where to place the new books of free-form poetry.

Swallowing harshly, Ella gave a weak smile and raked her fingers through her hair. She walked up to them, wringing her hands together. Jess didn’t need to see her hands to know she had already bitten her nails down to the quick. At the interruption, Chris gave a frustrated huff and turned to Ella.

“Ella, please tell Matthew it makes zero sense to put the free-form poetry anywhere near the sonnets! They should be on opposite ends of the store, as far as I’m concerned,” he exclaimed in exasperation.

Matthew rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as his jaw clenched. “I’m glad you’re here, Ella. Please tell Chris that we don’t only sell poetry, and free-form or not, it has no business anywhere near science fiction!”

Furrowing her brows, distracted, Ella shook her head. “Um...I don’t know...but I….”

“What?” Jess asked as she gestured slightly with her hands. Her face was pale, and she almost seemed confused, at a loss for words. It didn’t happen to her often, to say the least.

Blowing out a breath, she tried again, jerking her thumb back over her shoulder. “Back at the apartment...I just got a call from my brother. My dad’s dead.”

Jess’s heart dropped into his stomach. “What?”

“Yeah,” Ella said, nodding. As she continued, she took a hair elastic from her wrist and began pulling her locks into a ponytail. “Adam said he was in a car accident this morning. Driving home from some bar in Maryland. If I had to guess, he was still a little drunk from last night. No one else got hurt, which is good. He hit a patch of black ice, and he was going too fast, and I guess he just went right off the road. Into a tree. And he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt.”

Her speech became more urgent with every word, as they heard it sink in for her in real time. But she was never frantic, only determined and stern. The spacey fog was fading from her demeanor, though it remained in her eyes. Only in her eyes. She didn’t give them time to respond, just kept thinking out loud.

“Noah’s already on a plane from Oregon, but I don’t think he’s gonna be any help. And Adam said Fiona’s freaking out, so I’m almost definitely going to have to make the arrangements. I know you guys have work and stuff, but we need to pack up and get there before the rest of the family does, or everything will probably just explode on principle. Fuck! This is just like him. To die a week before Christmas!”

“Whoa, hey, Eleanor, just slow down for a second, okay?” Jess began, taking a hesitant step towards her and grabbing her hand. He squeezed once, hard, hoping to calm her down at least a little.

“Jesus, Ella-” Chris began.

“I’m so sorry,” Matthew said.

Ella shook her head, her face stoic. “Don’t, okay? Don’t be sorry. No one needs to be sorry. He was a fucking drunk, and it finally caught up with him. I just need to get back to Stars Hollow to take care of this, and then maybe Christmas won’t be completely ruined. Sound good?”

“Elle, just hold on. You should sit down and-” Jess said, but she cut him off.

“No, Jess. Seriously, I’m fine. Let’s just go and get it over with, and then it’ll be done,” she said, her hand never leaving his though she didn’t squeeze back. Her tone was tight, clipped, but she didn’t sound angry. He recognized it from the night on the bridge when she’d told him about the days following her mother’s death. The way she held it all together, and blocked it all out. Numb and headstrong.

“Do you want us to come with?” Matthew asked, watching with uncertainty as Ella began to tug Jess towards the door, grabbing his bag for him and handing him his coat.

“What? Of course not,” Ella said, insistent, as though it were obvious. “All I need to do is steal Jess for a few days. You need to do whatever it is you’re gonna do with Mabel. And Chris needs to do whatever it is he’s gonna do with Leo, and you need to tell me about it when we get back. I can pretty much guarantee your stories will be more fun than mine.”

“Are you sure?” Chris chimed in, brow heavy with worry. Her iciness surprised him. He had never heard someone react to a parent’s death quite so flippantly before.

“Yes. Jesus, Chris, keep up,” she replied, in a way which would have spurred a playful argument on a normal day. Again, her nonchalance unnerved all three of them.

Jess interlocked their fingers again instantly once he had his bag and his coat, almost heading out the door already. She was moving too fast for him to process much of anything, only reacting. He hadn’t seen her in such a frenzy in a very long time. “Eleanor, wait. Stop.”

“I can’t stop, Jess. I told you, we’ve gotta get there before my uncle has time to hit on Fiona and before Noah has time to piss off Adam. It’s fine. I promise. I’m fine.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but she pulled him out the front door instead. As they went, she shouted over her shoulder to Matthew and Chris: “Happy holidays! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

And then, she and Jess were gone. Chris and Matthew exchanged concerned, flabbergasted glances.

. . .

Flashback was the word that came to the forefront of her mind, as she stared up at the ceiling in the Gilmore living room. Luke and Lorelai were trying, and she appreciated it. They could both tell she didn’t want to talk about it, only wanted a bit of normalcy after the long day. And they’d obliged. After all, they’d had practice. Lorelai knew exactly what to do. She’d had Luke bring dinner home from the diner: turkey sandwiches and sodas. She’d suggested they watch a movie after dinner, something campy horror. Finally, they had settled on The Lost Boys. Ella knew how much Jess hated the movie, especially Kiefer Sutherland’s mullet, but he never complained once. A large part of her wished he would. She wanted it to be the way it was supposed to be. She wanted to have Christmas in Stars Hollow with the people who felt more like her family than her father did. Adam celebrating with one of his school friends in Boston, Fiona with her sister, Noah with his finacée in Oregon. But, of course, things never went as planned. Not in Ella’s experience at least.

At some point during the movie, she’d fallen asleep on the couch. No matter how much she wanted to stay awake until the end, she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Dealing with Fiona’s blubbering and Adam��s silence and Noah’s anger had pretty well exhausted her. Not to mention the business setting up the funeral at the church. She’d spent nearly two hours with the pastor, but the service was only halfway planned. She wished Aunt Julie could arrive sooner, but the girls were in school until Tuesday. Erin had some big recital she was pitching a fit about missing. Ella couldn’t blame her. She wouldn’t want to be there if she didn’t have to be. No, they would arrive on Wednesday morning. Two hours before the funeral, set for noon. At some point before then, Ella would have to sort out the flower arrangements and the music and the programs. At least Luke was providing the food. She assumed he would before he even offered. And she would have to write the eulogy. But she wasn’t even thinking about it yet. Every time the idea of writing it entered her mind, she would start humming a Stevie Nicks song and pointedly ignore it.

It was all too familiar. The planning, the writing, the consoling. Since they’d arrived in Stars Hollow that afternoon, it had been a non stop barrage of tasks and tears. None of it was surprising. And it almost made her want to laugh. The minute she heard that her mother was dead, she had burst out laughing, a nervous reaction she couldn’t control. Granted, the laughter came from deep inside her, and probably resembled a pained shriek more than an actual giggle. But it was laughter nonetheless, and her father had recognized it as such. He’d yelled at her until his voice became hoarse. She knew it wouldn’t happen again. He was the dead one now, after all. But still, she didn’t let the anxious laughter escape. She didn’t let anything escape. After the punishment she’d received for letting go last time, she knew not to do it again. No one was there to smack her, to scream, but she just couldn’t bring herself to forget how it had felt. Like she couldn’t even grieve right. And the best way to grieve became to not grieve at all.

She laid with one hand on her stomach and the other behind her head, analyzing the popcorn ceiling. She’d awoken with the room dim and the TV shut off. A quilt which she hadn’t fallen asleep under was draped over her, and there were hushed whispers in the direction of the kitchen. She hadn’t planned to wake up until morning, but she hadn’t planned to fall asleep there either. They were supposed to be sleeping in the apartment above the diner for the vacation, while Rory and April took the spare beds in the Gilmore house. But neither girl had yet to arrive, and Lorelai insisted Ella and Jess stay over after dinner. It was no use driving over in the snow, even if Luke’s was only about a minute away. Ella couldn’t believe how similar it all was to before. Sleeping alone on the Gilmore couch as others worried over her a few feet away.

She listened, in spite of herself. It was too tempting not to eavesdrop when she’d already heard her name so many times. Luke was concerned about her forgetting to eat. Lorelai was concerned about her shutting everyone out and being overwhelmed by the funeral preparations. And both of them were concerned about her coming to blows with Fiona at some point in the next few days.

Sighing, Ella ran her tongue over her teeth and remembered she hadn’t brushed them. She debated not doing so, but decided to just bite the bullet. With everything else on her mind, she thought it best to eliminate all the outward elements which might impede her from getting back to sleep. She rolled over on her side, preparing to sit up, when she saw Jess. She thought he’d be in the kitchen, talking with Luke and Lorelai. Instead, he sat on the floor with his back against the sofa. His head was near hers, leaned back. His eyes were closed, but he wasn’t snoring. She doubted he was fully asleep, but nonetheless attempted to get past him and rummage through the bag on the armchair to find her toothbrush. Her stealth proved lacking, however, when he began to stir as soon as she reached the bag.

“Hey,” he said quietly, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands and doing his best to seem lively. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied, fishing her toothbrush out from the sea of clothes she’d thrown into the duffel before they sped away from the apartment in Philadelphia. “I just forgot to brush my teeth.”

“Oh,” he said, nodding and hoisting himself up. His neck was already sore from the position he’d dozed off in, unwilling to follow Luke and Lorelai into the kitchen with Ella asleep on the couch. “Me too. I’ll come with.”

She nodded back, grabbing his toothbrush as well. The whispers didn’t cease until they made their way into the kitchen, Luke and Lorelai looking up at their entrance. Ella debated using the upstairs bathroom, not disturbing the two of them. But she didn’t have the energy to climb the stairs, and it would be the first time she could get a good look at the new half-bathroom they added next to Rory’s room. The smell of the diner food lingered, and it made Ella’s chest feel just a touch less tight. Lorelai broke out into a small smile at the sight of the two of them.

“You need anything, sweetie?” she asked, speaking only to Ella.

Though she felt a bit uncomfortable under everyone’s gaze, Ella smiled back. There was a warmth in her stomach at Lorelai’s voice. She focused on that feeling, and only that feeling. “No, we’re fine. Just brushing our teeth. The dentist would be pissed at me if I broke the pattern after over twenty years.”

“That’s true. Always best to avoid the Sweeney Todd dentistry possibility,” Lorelai agreed, nodding. Then, she yawned theatrically and looked at Luke, who only rolled his eyes at the dramatics. “I think we’re gonna head upstairs. It’s past our bedtime.”

“Still got those four o’clock deliveries, huh?” Jess asked sullenly, eyeing Luke. Many a morning when he was a teenager, he’d been awoken at half past three by the sound of Luke’s alarm.

Luke sighed. “For the business that housed and fed you for two years? Yeah, I do.”

Ella snorted a laugh, and nudged Jess playfully in the ribs. “Like you’re not always up before the sun, even on Saturday.”

“Where do you think that started?” Jess shot back, pointing an accusatory finger at Luke. “He screwed with my internal clock for life!”

“I think that’s enough fuel for future therapy sessions for tonight,” Lorelai announced, rising from the table, Luke following.

“Agreed,” Luke grumbled.

As they exchanged goodnights, Lorelai gave Ella a kiss on the cheek. Immediately after, she scrunched up her nose and smudged the lipstick from Ella’s freckled skin with her thumb. To Ella’s shock, Lorelai also gave Jess a short hug before making for the stairs. Luke hugged Jess, too. The two of them still had trouble showing physical affection for each other, as they probably always would. Ella had to stifle a laugh at the awkwardness between them.

When Luke hugged Ella, though, she felt tears prick at her eyes for the first time all day. She recognized his familiar smell, the soft feeling of his flannel, his strong arms around her. Somewhere in her mind, it occurred to her that the way it felt for Luke to hug her was what she had always wanted it to feel like when her own father hugged her. And she knew for sure she would never get it from him. She could finally be certain there was nothing left to do to repair her relationship with him. There was no time left for Jake to make her feel as safe as Luke made her feel. As he never had, even in her childhood. But by the time she and Luke broke apart, she had gathered herself enough. She cleared her throat and blinked away the glassy sheen in her eyes.

Luke ruffled her hair as he stepped back from her. If he saw that she was upset, he didn’t acknowledge it. “Don’t worry, kid. We’ll get everything figured out tomorrow.”

“I know, boss,” she replied.

. . .

The cigarette smoke made her a bit nauseous, but it was also comforting in a way she was slightly ashamed of. The winter air was crisp and biting, and her cheeks were frosted roses. Embers glowed orange in the darkness as she took a long drag, burning her lungs. She was already regretting it, but she simply felt too tired to think out the actual consequences of what she was doing. She had tried. She really had. But falling asleep, with Jess snoring softly beneath her as they lay on the couch, was absolutely impossible. Fatigue was weighing down her bones, and there was a perpetual ache throbbing behind her eyes. But each time she got close to sleep, the thought of her father would flash across her mind, and she would be wide awake once more.

Once she gave up, she had managed to sneak outside unnoticed. The wind whispered past her, hollow and haunting. But maybe everything was feeling spookier because death was at the forefront of her mind. Then again, when wasn’t it? Though the shock had certainly hit her with full force when she heard the news, she couldn’t bring herself to be surprised. The other shoe had dropped. She knew it would, just when she let her guard down. The moment she forgot to worry, the universe had knocked her down again. She flicked her cigarette and watched the excess ash melt a small spot in the snow below the steps.

At the sound of the front door creaking open, she startled only a little. For a wild moment, she wanted to put her cigarette out and hide it behind her back, pretending to be innocent. Especially if it was Luke. But she had to remember she was a grown up. And the feeling disappeared entirely when she saw only a disheveled Jess wrapping himself up in his jacket as he came out onto the porch and sat down next to her.

“You’re gonna catch a cold out here,” he remarked, holding her peacoat out to her.

She took it with a trembling hand.

“Thank you,” she said solemnly, breathing out a long stream of smoke as she spoke. The coat was old and cheap, and did little to help a Connecticut winter, but she shrugged it on anyway.

He nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. “Don’t mention it.”

They sat in silence, an owl hooting somewhere in the trees beyond the house. Ella didn’t put the cigarette out until it got so small it began to burn her fingers. After she’d discarded it, her breath still puffed out, along with Jess’s, in frigid white clouds. Flurries of snow fell in scattered sprays, but the night was mostly quiet and overcast. Jess crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.

She spoke, as he knew she eventually would, after a few more minutes. Gesturing down to the crushed cigarette, her tired eyes met his. “Do you want one?”

“No, thanks,” he said, shaking his head. “Where’d you get those in the middle of the night in Stars Hollow, anyway?”

A thin smirk ghosted over her lips. “Snatched ‘em off Bootsy’s newsstand.”

“Really?” he asked, laughing slightly, with eyebrows raised.

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Don’t act so surprised, Mariano. I was sneaking out of my bedroom window long before you got here.”

“Touché.” His eyes lingered on her, hair glistening golden in the soft light and eyes still far off somewhere miles away. He hesitated before he continued. “Did you walk all the way to Bootsy’s without a coat?”

She shrugged, glancing down at the Doc Martens on her feet. “I’m fine. I had my good shoes on. Besides, it’s only like a minute away.”

“Alright.”

“Seriously, Jess. I’m fine,” she snapped after a moment.

“Okay. I get it,” he said instantly. “You’re fine. You’re not cold.”

Ella ran her hands through her hair. Her body shook as she yawned.

“You wanna go back to bed?” he asked.

“No,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus, Jess! Stop trying to take care of me! Stop asking me questions! Just let me fucking sit here!” Ella exclaimed, huffing in frustration.

Jess recoiled slightly, and he nodded at her again. He ran a hand over his mouth and swallowed down the million other questions which were rising in his throat. The ones she’d refused to ask on the drive up, and the ones she apparently still wanted to avoid. “Sorry.”

She rolled her eyes, mostly at herself. “No, I’m...I’m sorry. I’m just tired. I couldn’t fall asleep.”

“We don’t have to sleep if you don’t want to. We could watch one of Lorelai’s cassettes in there,” Jess suggested, fighting hard to keep his tone light, bracing for whatever reaction she was going to have.

“I love that she still has cassettes,” Ella said wistfully, though not smiling. Her voice was low and raspy as she stared out ahead of her into the darkness and the lightly falling snow.

He nodded a little. “I know you do.”

Ella’s hands were itching to hold another cigarette, but she fought the urge. The pack which sat on the porch steps next to her would almost certainly be crumpled up and thrown in the trash the moment she reentered the house. Along with the lighter. But it was nice to have them there. If she wanted. They sat wordlessly, listening to the rustle of the wind in the evergreen trees. Jess didn’t make a sound. He was just far away enough not to touch her, almost in silent askance of whether she wanted space. She did. And she didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to talk almost as much as she didn’t want to write the eulogy. She wanted to be able to push down the sorrow and the rage until they just dissolved and she was as happy as she had been just a day earlier. Yesterday, she may have even been hopeful. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt hopeful about her family. But, now, she had to stop herself from reaching for a cigarette yet again. And she felt herself wanting a drink. A drink stronger than champagne at a book launch. And then the words started flowing before she could overthink them, before she could lock them away in her heart forever.

She swallowed thickly, looking down into her lap at her nail-bitten hands. “This is just like it was the last time.”

“Oh yeah?” he whispered, shifting a bit closer to her.

“Yeah,” she echoed, so quiet he almost couldn’t hear. She sniffed. “I mean, last time my dad was the devastated one instead of Fiona. But Adam still got pissed at Noah, and Noah only got more pissed because Adam was mad at him.”

Noah had only made it to town an hour before Ella left to go back to the Gilmore residence for the night, but he and Adam were at each other’s throats pretty much as soon as they saw each other. Upset that his Christmas vacation was being disrupted, Noah had insisted on staying at a motel instead of at the little blue house in which they had grown up. Adam wasn’t happy about it, accusing Noah of acting as though he was too good for them. In turn, Noah asked Adam why he wasn’t mad at Ella for staying with Lorelai. Adam had shot back immediately, saying Noah had abandoned the entire family the minute he could, while Ella stayed behind. At that point, Ella knew there was no way to diffuse the situation. She’d only offered to walk back with Noah to the motel, leaving Adam to sleep in his old room. Luckily, Fiona’s sister was already in town for the holiday. So, it didn’t wholly fall to any of the three of them to console her.

Jess and Luke had both offered to go over to the house with her after helping with the arrangements, but she’d insisted on meeting her brothers there alone. The surreality of the moment didn’t dawn on her until she saw Adam’s teary eyes and Noah’s flushed face. It was like she had stepped into the past. She’d come back to the Gilmore house to find Jess sitting in the living room, halfway through the Russian novel he’d brought with. In the face of his questions, she’d only given him the liner notes and then fallen mostly silent for the rest of the evening.

“And Lorelai and Luke won’t let me brush my teeth without asking me if I need anything,” Ella continued, with a scoff in her words. “And, I love them. I do. And I’m so fucking grateful that it hurts. But, I’m fine. I’m totally fucking fine.”

“So I’ve heard,” he quipped.

“You’re hilarious.”

“I’ve heard that, too,” he said.

She laughed breathily, lifting her head to look up at the sky. “Shut up.”

“Will do.”

Then, after a moment: “I just wish...I wish it wasn’t like this. I mean, he was a shitty dad. But he was still my dad.”

He watched as she chose her words, carefully. Her voice had more emotion than he’d heard all day. Bringing his arm around her shoulders, he hoped to lessen the trembling of her hands just a little. She leaned into him, letting herself feel his warmth but fighting the wateriness in her voice. Of all the things she didn’t want to do, crying was at the top of the list.

“And now...I don’t have parents. I don’t even have a dad who hates me and never calls,” she continued.

“He didn’t hate you,” Jess interjected.

She shook her head. “Yeah, he did, Jess. He fucking hated me. Because I looked like my mom and I didn’t like Fiona and I wouldn’t quit talking back at the dinner table. But it doesn’t bother me. I hated him most of the time, too.”

He hummed in response, listening.

Her face crumpled for only a moment. But, again, she regained her composure. A couple silent tears threatened to slip over. “But at least I had someone to hate, y’know? Now, it’s just...no one.”

She took in a shaky breath, and Jess began to rub circles over her back. He recognized that her shivering was no longer due to the cold but from the sobs she wouldn’t let loose. Ella’s stomach did a flip, as she clenched her hands into fists. But she just couldn’t hold it in any longer. She let a single wimper pass her lips. And then, the levee broke. She put her head in her hands and finally began to weep, cries from deep within her escaping at last.

“I just...I don’t have p-parents anymore,” she spoke through sobs, trying to get her voice under control but failing miserably. “I’m not anyone’s daughter anymore. I don’t belong to anyone anymore.”

Jess shut his eyes for a moment, feeling a crack in his heart as he heard her anguish. But a part of him was relieved she was finally letting it out. He knew not all of her tears were for her father, but for her mother as well. He’d never seen her cry so hard before, so hard she couldn’t catch her breath and she was beginning to feel sick to her stomach. She stopped being able to talk after a while, only crying, folding in on herself.

“I...I don’t...belong to anyone anymore,” she repeated.

Gnawing on his bottom lip again, Jess smoothed an affectionate hand over her hair. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Though he couldn’t see her face, Ella felt her cheeks heat up at his seeing her sob so openly. Jess spoke in a clear, strong tone.

“Listen, Eleanor, I know it feels like you’re alone without them, but that’s not true, okay?” he said.

She let out a tearful scoff.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m serious,” Jess continued, placing a hand on her damp cheek and turning her face gently so she would look at him.

She wanted to avoid his eyes, embarrassed, but simply couldn’t bring herself to look anywhere else. The sight of him almost made her physically relax.

An earnest crease stood out between his eyebrows when he spoke again. “You belong to me, and I belong to you. That’s how it’s always been, hasn’t it?”

She stared at him for a moment, stunned at his words, as tears kept rolling steadily down her cheeks. But then, her lip began to quiver and she closed her eyes. Jess was worried she was about to get angry again. But instead, she slumped weakly against him. He could feel her tears begin to wet the neckline of his t-shirt as she rested her head on his chest. Breathing out long and slow, Jess wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t know whether his words had helped, but he was doubtful. No amount of talking was going to make her feel any better. He couldn’t crack a joke or start a playful argument or do a magic trick. He could only be there. He simply sat and held her against the wind.

#gilmore girls #gilmore girls au #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls oc #jess mariano #jess mariano x oc #jess mariano oc fanfiction #jess mariano au #jess mariano x original character #oc fanfiction #luke danes #lorelai gilmore

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atlas-tries · 4 years

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Shatter Me Chapter 3: Shatter Me

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Summary: Patton finds a painful memory and Janus has a vision. Will it be enough to thwart the outcomes that await?

Notes: Redundant, no? Not gonna lie, fam, it's about to get to the darkest point. Trigger warnings for character death.

“Patton, are you sure you aren’t a hoarder?” Virgil asked, pushing aside a mountain of plushies where he had been unfortunate enough to land. This was the first time the anxious side had been in Patton’s room since he moved to their part of the Mindscape (also the first time he had ever been to Patton’s room) and Patton was beside himself to have him here.

“Absolutely! I just like to keep a few sentimental things around to look at when I’m feeling down,” Patton replied. “But I guess it uh, wouldn’t hurt to clean up a little. Gotta make room for more memories, right? I actually have the energy to do it now!”

Virgil looked at Patton with a lopsided grin. “Wait, what? You, not having the energy to do something? How’d that happen?”

“Ah right, you weren’t here for uh … all of that. Let’s just say I was recovering from an injury I got several months ago,” Patton said, instantly noting the worried change in Virgil’s expression. “Hold on, it’s alright, I’m alright now, see?” He lifted his shirt to showcase the few tiny cracks that remained. “I’m almost completely healed. Logan even gave me his seal of approval!” He pulled out a little medallion with Logan’s bespectacled brain signet on it. “See?”

Virgil breathed out a visible sigh of relief. He shook a finger at Patton. “Awesome,” he said, his voice cracking a little at the end.

“Alright, so you said you were looking for …” Patton started.

“… this one angsty poem Thomas wrote in high school. I thought I’d uh, spice the ruminating up a little when Thomas heads to bed tonight,” Virgil replied. “No better way to fall asleep than thinking about everything that’s gone wrong or that will go wrong, am I right?”

Patton smiled. “Sure, kiddo, as long as they’re balanced with happier thoughts during the daytime! Let’s see, I think what you’re looking for is over here.” He ran toward his version of the staircase that was piled high with boxes and other larger memorabilia that wouldn’t fit on the bookshelf. He glanced through a few of them, perking up a little when he came to the box on the fourth stair. “I think this is it!” He grabbed the box and ran back to Virgil.

“Keep them as long as you need them,” Patton said with a smile. He handed it over to Virgil, who nearly doubled over from the weight of the things inside. Virgil choked out a thanks and quickly sank out.

“Well, that’s one box temporarily dealt with. Now, about the rest of this marvelous mountain of memories …” Patton, though he would never outrightly admit it, didn’t like moving things around very much. It filled him with dread just thinking about moving something somewhere he would inevitably forget about it. Maybe it would be better to start smaller? He looked around for somewhere less cluttered to start. Finally, his eyes landed on the overflowing box labeled New Memories. “That’ll do for now.” He took the box carefully upstairs to his bedroom and got to work sorting its contents.

In around half an hour, everything was categorized into neat little piles that could be easily transferred to other more fitting storage spaces. Patton began collecting everything from the Friends and Coworkers pile and carried them to his dresser. The top drawer was for everything related to Joan. Admittedly, this one was getting a little bloated from all the fun stuff they and Thomas had ever done together. Still, Patton managed to find space for the newer memories in the crevices that remained. The rest made their way into their respective drawers, packed in tightly with all the rest of them.

Patton closed the drawers, smiled, and put his hands on his hips. “Perfect!” he said. Now all that was left was to take the box back to his version of the living room. He picked the box up and startled when it hissed at him. Something was still in there. He peeked into the box at the thing that had just slid toward him, an upside-down picture frame from the looks of it. Steadying the box with one hand, he reached in and flipped it over.

The last memory he had of Thomas’s now ex-boyfriend stared up at him from the bottom of the box.

His hands trembled a little as he stared at this frighteningly still image. “Nope nope nope, not today,” he said, closing the box and walking as quickly as he could to put it back where it belonged. Despite ridding himself of the visual, this memory was still going to make itself heard in the only way it knew how. Patton clutched at his chest hard and the box crashed to the living room floor. “N-not again …”

He sat down on the stairs a moment to regain control of his breathing. Searing lines thrummed in time with his heartbeat, dulled but not forgotten. This was another reason why he never bothered to clean up: too much of a chance to reopen old wounds. Patton rose with a wince to get that recording of the Rainforest Rap. That song always helped cheer him up. He kept the song on repeat until he felt some semblance of normalcy again.

For the rest of the week, Patton lay awake during the nights, praying that the darkness would somehow take away the memories that hurt him so. It, as many spectral entities do, provided no such reprieve. Certainly not enough to quell the ache settling further into his core as the days passed. Taking liberties in his duties here and there made things far more manageable. Just yesterday, Patton suggested Thomas indulge in a half a pack of Oreos and he listened. The day before, he had come thiiiiiis close to getting an actual bouncy castle! And today, Patton had one little plan he thought everyone would jump for (but not in a bouncy castle).

If everything went according to Patton’s plan, they would spend the next 48 hours rewatching The Office in a blanket fort with Thomas’s closest friends. They could all use a break right about now, what with Roman steamrolling through coming up with new concepts, Logan pulling all-nighters researching for new videos, and Virgil making sure everyone was staying on time with Logan’s schedule. He couldn’t wait to see how everyone else liked this idea! He was already out the door and nearly to the stairs when he heard muffled shouting coming from the living room below.

“—not seriously thinking of going along with this latest plan, are you? I have far too much to plan if we’re to keep this project at its utmost quality!”

Patton stopped dead in his tracks at the top of the stairs.

“I know, Roman, I’m concerned about this, too. We’re woefully behind schedule as it is,” Logan added. “If we don’t do something about this, my carefully constructed calendar will collapse under the weight of his impulse decisions.”

“But how are we even supposed to bring that up to him? He’s been acting weird all week, I know,” Virgil bit, “but you know how Pat takes these things, L.” Patton bit his lip to keep from making noise as the cracks grew once more.

“The best way to do that is to do like you said earlier Virgil, rip it off like a metaphorical Bandaid. This isn’t the first time we’ve had to do this.”

So. Patton had gone overboard these past few days with his contributions.

How many other times had he put the other sides in this exact same situation? They were all supposed to be in this together. Weren’t they …?

There was only one way to fix this. Fixing his cardigan and his expression, Patton plodded heavily down the stairs to announce his arrival. “Hey kiddos! Oh, good, you’re all here together, that’ll save me a few trips back upstairs,” he said cheerily.

“Don’t tell us, Padre, you have another idea?” Roman asked. His smile looked so forced.

“Kinda! So I was just thinking that since we are so behind schedule, a 2 day binge-fest might not be the greatest idea I’ve come up with. So instead of that, how about we work on this next concept together tonight?”

Jaws all around the room dropped. “Wait, what? I thought …” said Virgil, looking to the others.

Roman picked up where Virgil left off, “Patton, I believe that’s the best idea you’ve had all week!” He stepped closer. “How shall we go about it? At the dumb boring regular table here, or at the Round Table in the Imagination to help stimulate all the best thoughts?”

“Hmm, that’s intriguing, Roman. It would certainly be easier than trying to keep track of all our thoughts on paper,” Logan added.

“Hey Logan, I guess you say it’s a …” Patton started.

Logan’s eyes widened. “No.”

“Oh, this’ll be good,” Virgil snickered.

“… well-Round-ed idea,” said Patton.

Virgil and Roman couldn’t help smiling watching this play out. Logan groaned. “I will ignore that this one time because you made a worthwhile effort to get us back on schedule, but I do hope that you’ll spend a little more time thinking about what words you want to arrange in a sentence. And make them less … pun-filled.”

“I’ll try not to have too much pun, but I can’t make any promises!” Patton said.

Logan said nothing further, opting instead to vacate the premises as quickly as possible. “I’ll uh, go with him and we’ll get everything set up in the Imagination,” said Roman, running after him.

“Well, I guess that just leaves you and me, kiddo! Whaddaya say we make some snacks for everyone? We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us today!”

Virgil nodded. “As long as I can spit on something meant for Roman,” he said.

“I’ll let you have the cookie batter bowl,” Patton replied.

“Deal.”

Between the two of them, Patton and Virgil were able to make somewhat quick work of a heaping plate of hot cookies and several plates of sandwiches for everyone to enjoy. Sure, they may have gotten more flour and other assorted foodstuffs on them than into the finished products on the counter, but it was the fun they had doing it that mattered. Both of them decided that it would be best to change out of their dirty clothes before carrying everything into the Imagination.

Patton sunk into his version of the kitchen, which was considerably more cluttered than the common area kitchen. He stepped over a few stray memories before making it into the clearer living room. That was when he noticed Deceit sitting on his couch worrying his gloved hands. Softly, Patton called out, “Dee?”

Deceit startled and turned quickly to see Patton. “Um,” he said, clearing his throat and brushing down the front of his cloak, “you certainly didn’t sneak up on me.”

“What brings you back to my neck of the ‘burbs?” asked Patton.

Deceit stood from the couch. “We’re just getting so well acquainted that I thought I’d stop by for tea— and to give a warning. I know they’ve been growing again.”

Patton smiled sadly. “I guess I can’t really hide this from you. But you should know, this time—”

“It’s not their fault, I’m well aware. But doesn’t this make it the best time to tell them? The pressure is off. You don’t even have to tell them in a direct way!” Deceit said, taking Patton’s hands in his own. His eyes were alight with worry. “You just need to tell them.”

“I know I need to, but … it’s so hard to do. I’d be hurting them, I know I would.”

Deceit looked down and sighed. He brought his gaze quickly back up to Patton’s, staring with an intensity that Patton had never seen from him before. “You need to tell them,” he whispered slowly. “I saw something on the horizon. Something bad. As much as it pains me to say it, I don’t want that vision to be about you.”

That was a bit startling. Patton knew it wouldn’t get that far, but … could it? “Okay,” he said. “I’ll tell them.” That earned him a split-second smile from Deceit.

“That’ll do, Patton. That’ll do. What in the world is on my gloves?” Deceit said, sinking out.

“Cookie dough!” Patton called after him. “And probably some mayo. Oh, he probably didn’t hear me. Now what was I doing again? Oh yeah, clothes, brainstorming, Imagination!” He quickly ran upstairs to the bathroom to get changed and emerged from his room less than a minute later and grabbed what food Virgil hadn’t. Maybe if he busied himself enough, he would be able to forget Deceit’s visit. He wouldn’t think about the panic behind his crumbling facade, or the thinly veiled pleas he made.

But that would all be a lie. Something had him deeply troubled, and when Deceit was the one giving out a warning in earnest, it bode better to listen. But how to go about it? Patton sighed. “Alright, Patton, let’s just focus on getting to the others right now,” he said to himself. He closed his eyes and thought about the others, and about castles, knights, and everything that made Roman happy.

When he opened them again, he was in the Imagination.

Or rather, he was in a field in the Imagination, right in front of Roman’s towering castle. It was a perfect amalgamation of Gothic architecture and pure Disney magic that made Patton’s nostalgia meter burst through the roof. He ran through the front gates with appropriate gusto and was thrilled to see the others there around the table already, quietly chatting amongst themselves. “Ah, Patton, we were starting to think you forgot how to get here again. Come, let us formally begin this brainstorming bash!” Roman said cheerily.

“That’s the spirit!” Patton squealed, trying to sound as normal as possible. He set down the cookie platter and took a seat in the high-backed chair with his new symbol on it.

“First things first, let’s make sure we’re all on the same page before we begin,” Logan said, summoning papers for all of them. “In order to maximize our output, Roman, Virgil, and I have decided to remove some of the thought filters from the castle for this session. This means that any particular thought, if it’s focused enough, will manifest in here for all of us to review. According to my own independent research, this should boost our productivity by 42% with a .03% margin of error.”

Patton’s eyes widened a little. He really didn’t want to interrupt their work, but this new system would definitely cause problems if he didn’t come clean now. So, Patton gathered every last bit of gumption that he had and shouted, “I have a confession to make!”

The others backed up a little, startled that Patton could be so loud, but quickly recomposed themselves. “Go ahead, Patton,” said Logan, straightening his tie.

Patton thanked him, doing his best to not squirm in his seat. He knew they wouldn’t react well, but maybe saying it now would keep thoughts about it from popping up later. “I uh, wanted to get this out of the way before we get down to business. But um … I think I might be breaking again.”

“Come again?” Virgil asked.

Patton slid the collar of his shirt down enough to reveal several deep fissures. “These things. They’re growing again,” he said. “Started earlier this week. I just didn’t want that popping up without warning and ruining our work. Anyways, um, what ideas are we working with here, Roman?”

“Wait, breaking? Like, breaking breaking? Oh God, Patton, are you dying? You’re dying, aren’t you? Oh God, no! What stops death?! Logan?!” Virgil cried frantically.

Patton quickly said, “Virgil, Virgil, breathe, I’m not dying. In for four seconds, there you go, hold it for seven seconds. You’re doing great. Just listen to the sound of my voice. Out for eight. Good job, keep it up.”

Logan got out a pen and notepad. “Again? And you say they started earlier this week? Do you remember which day it was?” he asked.

“The day I started cleaning up my room. Uh, what day was that again?” Patton said, still doing his best to softly coach Virgil back down to a calmer state.

“Padre … I thought there weren’t going to be any more secrets about this,” said Roman. The hurt look he gave to Patton about killed him where he sat.

“It wasn’t so much a secret as it was an ‘I-got-a-little-busy-and-kept-forgetting’ kind of thing. I never meant to keep it from you, any of you,” Patton replied. A tiny, glowing orb dripped from Patton’s chest. A thought. He pushed it down between his hand and the seat to trap it, knowing that it would unveil his lie. For good measure, he slung a leg over his hand.

“You were cleaning that day…” Logan mused. “I may have some theories that explain this phenomenon, though it is currently up to speculation. Allow me to elaborate. Patton, it seems that stressing yourself beyond your limits could potentially be the cause of this. You have certainly been going out of your way with your work this week. I believe we all recall the … bouncy castle idea. This could be leading to a lack of self-care needed to perform adequately.”

Patton nodded slowly with as real a smile as he could muster. “Yyyyyeah, that could be it,” he said, shoving down another treacherous thought as it popped out. It brought up memories of all the passing comments Logan made about his character.

“Uh, Pops? Whatcha … doin’ over there?” Virgil asked.

Patton stiffened. “Nothing, just, uh … Practicing a new kind of exercise?” Another one flitted out, pointing to being too overbearing with Virgil. “Hey, is that a dragon coming up to the castle?”

Everyone turned to look while Patton conjured a slingshot, flung that icky thought out the other window. and recaptured the one that had come out from beneath his leg.

“No, that’s a tapestry, Padre. It literally couldn’t hurt you if it wanted to,” Roman said. “Not that I would ever let it!”

Patton smiled. “You’re my hero, Roman,” he said.

Roman blushed a little to that. “Aw, Pat,” he gushed.

Another thought came up, a memory of a time Roman had taken him on one of his adventures. He had wanted to tend to a little wounded animal they came across and nearly got them killed because of it. Patton clapped his hand painfully over his heart to keep that one from surfacing. With a whimper and a slight grimace, he replied, “I mean it, Ro.”

Virgil was getting extremely antsy where he sat. “Okay, um … This is weird, right? Like, this just feels wrong.”

“Virgil has a point, you are behaving rather strangely, Patton,” said Logan. “Do you have something you’d like to add?”

With the focus being on what started this, another memory surfaced. The one that had started it again. Patton tried to bite that one as it meandered past. Curse these full hands! He missed by a mile, leaving it to float effortlessly to the center of the table.

“A thought?” Logan said. “Unconventional, but it’s an intriguing choice.”

It began to play. Patton was in his room, sorting through the new memories box. The last few were being tucked away. It skipped to him looking back in the box to see what was left. It showed him, holding the picture. Him, clutching his chest. Him, stumbling to the floor. As if on cue, the cracks thrummed in recognition. Thank goodness he already had a hand over them because it almost took his breath away. The memory evaporated, leaving the others to simply look with jaws slightly agape.

Patton could only look down at the table. These old wounds were reopening in the worst of ways, and now his closest friends would find out the truth. Logan finally broke the silence. “So, that’s how it happened.”

Patton nodded wordlessly.

“This was months ago,” Logan said.

“It was a busy time for me,” Virgil added. “Switching from everything Thomas did wrong to worrying that Thomas will never find love again got to be so exhausting.”

“I admit even I became a bit disheveled by his absence,” Logan said, looking down.

“I nearly ducked out over this. I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you, Patton,” said Roman.

Patton still couldn’t bring himself to look up. He knew there were pent up tears threatening to fall if he did. “It … it was hard … and seeing a reminder of it …” he whispered.

Logan sighed. “I believe your best course of action is clear,” he said. “You simply need to let the past be the past.”

“But … what about all of the good times we had with him? I don’t want to leave them behind,” Patton said softly.

“Patton, these memories are physically hurting you. I can’t understand why you would rather suffer endlessly instead of just letting one person go.”

You’re too sentimental to save yourself from dying.

Patton’s face contorted and a small whine escaped his throat. Those insidious cracks lengthened once more, each one feeling like a knife tracing its way through his skin.

Roman stood abruptly. “Now look what you’ve done, Quantum of Soulless!” Roman cried, motioning to Patton. Logan rose from his seat, trying to get a better look from across the table.

“Roman …” Patton lightly scolded. “Pl-please be nice.”

Roman huffed. “Sorry. What I mean is this situation needs a bit more delicacy than Logan’s robotic demeanor could ever hope to provide.” Roman walked over to Patton and put a hand gently on his arm. Logan was making his way over, too, notepad in hand. “Now Padre, you know how much I came to you when this was all fresh. We did our best to hold each other up, but even now, I still feel lost. I can’t tell you how much I yearn to have our beloved return, or how much I want to call him after all this time.”

Patton sniffled a little, putting his hand over Roman’s and leaning his head against his arm. “I know, I want him back too,” he said.

“I think we all do. But I think it might also be time to start boxing up some of those old memories. We can even help you start!” Roman said. Virgil shook his head. Logan rolled his eyes. “Okay, I can help you start.”

“But I don’t want to forget … I wouldn’t even know where, or how, to start. We had so many good memories together that I don’t want to lose,” Patton blubbered.

“I know it’s difficult, but we aren’t children anymore, Padre. I know the relationship ending was for the best and I’ve been striving every day to remain strong. I also know that you wouldn’t be leaving everything behind if you do the adult thing and let the ghosts of the past go.”

You’re too naive to understand what needs to be done.

Patton doubled over, groaning as the cracks split further down his limbs and up his neck. Bile burned at the back of his throat, and he could taste the coppery twang of essence. He felt another wary hand on him. “P-Pops?” came Virgil’s wavering voice. “I… Thomas was being too overbearing. That wasn’t your fault!”

YOU were being too overbearing. YOU were what drove him away.

Patton cried out in agony as his skin split down to his fingertips and over his face to the top of his head. Small chips of skin were beginning to fall away with tiny tinks as they hit the floor, displaying the bright blue beneath. He could feel the front of his shirt begin to dampen.

“I don’t get it! We’re trying to help, why isn’t this working?” Virgil cried. “Why are they getting worse?!”

Logan came up to Patton, attempting to lean him back with utmost care. “Perhaps just talking about the subject of his pain is what’s causing them to worsen,” he said. As soon as he looked at the frail fatherly side, his demeanor changed. “Virgil, get a first aid kit. Roman, help me lay him on the table. Now!”

The others, at first too stunned to move, burst into action as quickly as they could. Patton screamed as they repositioned him on the table, hyperventilating from the pain. “Hang in there, Padre, please hang in there!” came Roman’s muffled voice. Logan was reaching for the hem of his shirt. He mouthed something to him. Patton felt something glide across his skin from his navel to his neck. Wait, when did Logan get scissors? And where was his shirt? And why did the others look so horrified? Those questions seemed inconsequential to the truth staring down at Patton, demanding he tell it.

“It w-was my fault,” Patton croaked.

Logan started threading a needle. Virgil was carding his fingers through Patton’s hair anxiously. Roman looked at him with incredulous eyes. “What are you talking about?” asked Roman.

“Th-the breakup,” Patton replied. Warmth was trickling down over his ribcage and soaking his back. “A-and everything e-else.” Logan tried his best to stick the needle through solid skin, but it just chipped further. Patton coughed, a bit of blue making its way past his lips.

“Everything else? Patton, you’re not making sense,” Logan said, trying the same thing again with the same result.

Patton whimpered, “I-I know that I’m always … messing th-things up. I forget s-so much … I kn-know that you think I’m t-too sentimental t-to do my job. Th-that I’m too … naive t-to see the truth right in … front of me. That I’m s-so over … o-overbearing that I drove him away. If it w-weren’t for … all of you t-to rein me in … I-I’d make Thomas into a… w-worthless mass of a man.”

You are worthless.

“C-Compression. Let’s try compression,” Logan said.

“Pat … is this … is this what caused all of this?” Roman asked. His eyes shimmered.

“You can’t seriously think that,” Virgil said, his hands becoming shaky.

Patton cried as Logan pressed firmly in the center of his chest. More fragments broke free and with them, Logan’s hands went straight through into Patton’s chest. Patton nearly passed out. Logan quickly withdrew his hands.

“Ohhhh my God, oh my God, Logan, what did you do?!” shouted Virgil. “What do we do now?!”

Patton coughed violently, essence spluttering from his lips in a steady stream.

Logan could only stand there, frozen in horror, staring at his blue hands.

“Logan?!” Roman cried.

“I … I don’t know …” came Logan’s voice, barely above a whisper. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks.

“You can’t die on us, Patton, please, we need you!” Virgil sobbed.

Roman grasped Patton’s hand delicately. It began to shatter like porcelain barely held together. Despite the jagged edges, Roman still lifted it to his cheek, holding on like it was the only anchor in a violent sea. “Y-you’ll … all be … alright … without me … Just … p-promise me … y-you won’t … blame yourselves …” Patton gasped.

He couldn’t hold it together when bigger pieces of him began breaking away from the rest of his body. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t hear.

He couldn’t see. But still, his mouth made the words.

“I… l-love… you.”

With a final shuddering breath, he was gone.

---

Janus knew that meddling with what his foresight told him never aided the outcome.

He knew this, but he tried anyway.

It wasn’t that he particularly liked Patton. He found him to be overly saccharine and ridiculously optimistic in the face of surefire doom, not to mention he stood by socks and sandals as a fashion choice. However, things always seemed to run smoother in the Mindscape with the fatherly side around. Someone had to be there to tend to the others and moderate their senseless bickering, he supposed. How would anyone get any sleep otherwise? And Patton wasn’t one to pass judgement when he was caught alone. Perhaps his near-blind acceptance was what endeared Janus to him in the first place.

Whatever the case, he didn’t want whatever was going to happen to go through like it wanted to. He could never determine much from these visions. Just … feelings. Notions. The occasional coherent thought. This most recent one should’ve been par for the course. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what came. He couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was being ripped apart. And there was nothing else around but the pain, searing a fiery blue, and those three intrepid words.

I love you.

A swan song if there ever was one. And now, standing here amongst the shadows outside Roman’s castle, he knew the swan had sung.

Taglist: @celeste-tyrrell @taxicabinmemphis @angeldiaries @somehow-i-got-an-account

#atlas writes #patton angst #sanders sides angst #shatter me #patton sanders #character death tw #are y'all ready to stone me to death yet?#shatter me story

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