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#i standby what i said back then but i try i TRY to be politer now
singwithkaianderin · 5 months
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Day 7 - Multiple songs - Iso (I know very late lmao but its 2.6k so eh)
See you again, Sunflower, rises the Moon, The Shade, Backyard Boy, Universe, Honeypie
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Working in Valorant means you'd have your provided room, training area, and friends who would spill tea in the room beside you. Iso, a new member of Valorant recently recruited a few weeks ago. You, were one of the first people who joined Valorant, but you weren't in the front lines but worked backstage. Like cooking meals for the team, repairing their communication devices when Killjoy can't, Brimstone's 3rd in command after Sage and their strategist. You were also Killjoy's partner in making the training ground and most of the time, the duelists' sparring buddy. While you don't work on the front lines, you do your share of work back scenes.
 Learning the new agent had joined, you were in charge of picking him up and that's when you met.
 --
 -Agent Iso: I'm here, where are you? (read)  -Agent 3rd: almost there. standby. -Agent Iso: Copy. (read)
 --
Iso shuts off his phone, and his reflection shows before his phone is placed in his pocket. Seeing as he's on standby for now in the meeting place, he spots a boba tea shop, the landmark used for the pickup sight. It wouldn't hurt to take a drink first, right? He enters the boba shop, pushing the door and the bell above him rings, signaling the entrance. It was relatively a slow day for the cafe, and his ordered drink came fast. He pays the drink and thanks the shop before leaving the same way he came. He punctures a hole just at the middle of the drink, taking a sip with a smile. Satisfied with his order. A vibration comes through his phone and he checks it again.’
--
-Agent 3rd: slight delay, meet you at the boba shop just near the meeting place. what're you wearing?
--
That's.. odd. Well not exactly that uncommon to ask when your meeting someone for the first time, you would ask them for what they’re wearing to find them easier. Iso clutches his backpack strap.
--
-Agent 3rd: slight delay, meet you at the boba shop just near the meeting place. what're you wearing?  -Agent Iso: White hoodie, black cargo pants, commander mx. (read) -Agent 3rd: copy. wearing brown color palette, brown shirt, brown patterned cardigan and light orange-brown slacks. -Agent Iso: Copy. (read)
 –
 He continued sipping on his drink as he waited, scrolling on his phone while still paying attention to his surroundings. He settled by the wall of the boba shop, a slight shade just covering his upper body. It was relatively quiet in the area, and hearing footsteps rose Iso's guard. His eyes narrowed, putting his phone away before clutching the Sheriff in his holster. Someone from the same shade he was under, brown color palette, brown shirt check, brown cardigan check, light orange brown slacks check. It was you.
"Good morning, agent. I hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long." You say, a formal and polite smile on your face. You stride towards him and your face is revealed in the daylight. "I- no, no I haven't, Commander." He said, fuck, was his nervousness showing? ‘No stop it, I shouldn't be nervous about this.’ You glance towards his hand holding his almost empty boba drink. "I see you enjoyed waiting for me. Now let's go, the bike is just around the block." You said, chuckling at how the new agent got nervous. It was understandable, it was the same when Reyna and you picked up Gekko. Wait, a bike?
After a few seconds of silence, you pass by as you walk to the car, and it is a bit far since the street market doesn’t have any available parking spaces nearby. You can sense the nervousness behind you and you smile in amusement. “Relax, Agent Iso. I don’t bite.” You say to try to ease him, which worked but still it was leaning towards a ‘Yes still nervous about this new job’ vibe. “Are there any questions you wanna ask? I’m open to answer.” You say as you look at him before turning a corner and it reveals a beautiful, beautiful white superbike, Kawasaki Ninja H2R with 2 black motorcycle helmets on top.
 You swing the keys to the bike around your finger. “Ready for a ride?” You cackle again as you make your way to the bike, your back turned to him as you pick up one of the helmets and give it to him. “Connect your phone to the helmet and we can share music. I know you like your playlists, let me listen to them.” You say as his hands hold the helmet. You start up the bike while waiting for Iso to finish connecting to the helmet, revving the bike, and putting on the helmet. Just in time Iso finishes and puts on the helmet, and you talk through the comms.
“C’mon, we have a long way to your new home.” You say as you watch Iso get on the bike behind you, obviously even more nervous now that he’s riding a bike. It was obvious that this was one of his first bike rides or his first ride. He didn’t know where to hold so you smiled again in amusement before you reached behind you to grab both his sweaty hands, ‘Their hands are warm… wait no my hands are sweaty!’ You wrap his hands around your waist before you put your hands on the handles, “Get ready, this will be a long and fast ride, Iso.” You said before you removed the foot break off the ground and you started the ride. The rev of the bike echoes in the air around you as you speed on for 90 kilometers per hour, not going too fast in case the new agent gets overwhelmed.
His music matches the speed of your ride, and his arms are clutched around your waist firmly. An hour into the ride you are currently on a red stop light, letting the many citizens walk on the crossroad across you. “Commander 3rd, how much longer till we get there?” Iso’s voice echoes in your helmet. “Around a few more hours, Agent. I’d say around 4 or 5? Maybe 3 if we’re lucky there's no traffic.” You say, looking at the watch Chamber gave to you after a bet. It was a little past 12 pm, and you were currently in an urban area.
“Do you wanna grab food before we start a long journey again?” You ask Iso, straightening your back while waiting for the minute on the street lamp timer for the ones crossing the street. “My treat.” You say. He thinks for a moment before you hear a growl through your helmets. Even if he’s wearing a helmet, you can feel his body temperature rising and you can see the bright flush on his face. You playfully laugh, “Alright we can get some food, don’t worry.”
You take a detour after the red stop light. You pass by a few restaurants, looking for a place to get takeout and you notice Iso eyeing a fast food chain. It just so happens to be your favorite as well. You pull up the drive and you both order, quick and fast. You get your order and park in, of course, the parking lot. Putting the foot brake down you get off and sit on curbs, Iso just beside you.
Do I make small talk? What should I even talk about? “So I, actually heard from Brimstone that you don’t fight in the front lines? Why is that?” Iso asks before taking a bite of his food, a slight embarrassment blush still on his face from earlier. “I work best backstage, really. I’m in charge of sparring with everyone, your cooked meals at headquarters, and so on and forth.” You explain and you follow Iso, taking a bite of your own food. “But if ever that you guys need help, I’ll come as backup.”
Iso hums as you explains, listening with almost a child’s eyes watching magic. Your heart melts as you finish your food, and you check the time. 12:56 pm… which means you would arrive in time for dinner at head quarters. You look to your side and you see Iso almost done, a small blush remains on his cheek as he enjoyed his food. “Alright, I’ll start up the bike while you finish up. We still have a few hours before the head quarter’s dinner.”
His head perks up on the mention of about to leave so as you start up the bike, revving it a few times, he stuffs the food as fast as he could in his mouth. “Chill, chew yo food, chimpmunk. I can wait.”  How many times have you chuckled because of him already, and how many times he’s blushed in embarrassment already. He covers his mouth and he chews before an audible gulp was heard. “Thanks.” He mumbled before he threw away his paper bag of trash into the proper disposal and put back the helmet on. Just as you were waiting for him on your phone, you see Iso, the black helmet matching him perfectly contrasting with his white based outfit.
You both get on the bike and you rev it, this time Iso’s hands wrap around you from behind, no longer embarrassed about it. He prepares himself for the ride behind you and you cough to try to let your blush out. You rev the bike as you leave the parking lot and continue on the highway going miles and kilometers per hour. You feel Iso’s warmth behind you contrasting to the cold and fast air around you, his chest pressed up behind you as he clutches on to you for dear life.
An hour later into the ride, and the pace is slower now compared to on the highway, now entering the next urban area of the country. Iso’s arms around you seemed stationary for a while, so while at a red light you looked behind you and Iso is there sleeping. You couldn’t hear his soft snores over the loud city and road noises. You smile as you conclude that Iso was comfortable enough to sleep around you. The red stop line turns green, you move the bike and continue straight on.
The third hour and now half of your gas is used, you still have around 2 or 3 hours more of driving. You are on the highway now with Iso still heavily sleeping on your back, the sun will start to set in an hour so you better hurry because driving at night with a bike is scary. You speed up and hope you can make it to the Headquarters welcoming party.
The fifth hour is in and you’re in the city where the headquarters is located, it's getting darker by the minute so you make your way quickly through the streets with street lights guiding your way. And now you see the headquarters in the distance in the suburbs of the city. You quickly made your way down to the streets and you met with a gate that had Killjoy’s turrets and Cypher’s camera in the corner. You wave at the camera and the gate opens, you enter and the smell of food instantly makes your mouth water through the helmet.
You park the motorcycle inside and wake the new recruit up. “Psst, Agent Isooo, wake up.” It was already dark, and the lights of the building through the window gave you a bit of lighting. His eyes flutter open and he’s met with the darkness of the helmet so he lets go of your waist to remove the helmet. He finally removed it after a few hours of wearing it and his face was covered in a thin layer of sweat and a few markings on his skin from the helmet. He blinks a few times before he realizes what is happening.
“Hope you had a good nap, Agent. We’re home.” You say as you smile at the markings on his face, almost laughing and you get off the motorcycle with Iso following. You hold your helmet in one hand and the keys to the bike in the other, Iso on the other hand had his helmet on one and kept his earbuds in his case.
Iso realizes the smell of food inside and his face lights up, he gulps audibly and you laugh. “C'mon let's go, I’m hungry! Can’t wait to have Harbor and Reyna’s cooking. They have the best cooking when I’m not around.” You explain as you turn the doorknob and the smell of food crashes over you. You were met with the familiar hallway and a big dining table with a big feast on it. The duelists set the table with cutlery and plates, the sentinels helped serve the dishes on the table, the initiators helped set the table with dining cloths and the controllers set the drinks. From the entrance, you can see a banner that says ‘Welcome!’ You lead Iso inside and he’s flabbergasted at the amount of food on the table and the effort they took to welcome him.
Everyone finishes setting the table, and you join the group and turn to Iso. “Welcome to Valorant, Agent!” You all shout. The smiles on your faces when Iso was welcomed, made him want to cry but he didn’t, he gave a thankful smile and the most polite gesture. “Thank you.” He says as everyone smiles triumphantly then Brimstone steps forward.
“Alright, we’re all hungry here,” Brimstone said as he eyed Jett and Gekko staring at the food intently. “To not keep the foodies away from their food, let us make a toast,” Brim said, raising a glass full of beer, the others with expensive alcohol bought with Chamber’s money. You hand Iso a glass and he accepts it. You all raise the glasses above the dining table. “To our new agent, Iso…” Brim started.
“Cheers!!!” Everyone celebrated, the glasses clinking and the audible gulps heard after. Breach and Brim slammed the glass on the table and a ‘Whoooo’ followed after.
The food was free for all, and all types of dishes were served. Indian cuisines made by Harbor, Hispanic dishes made with the help of Gekko and Reyna, Chinese hot pot made by Sage, and Japanese cuisines shared by Yoru. West African dishes made with Astra’s recipes, Filipino famous Adobo and Sinigang made by Neon, Turkish delicacies brought by Fade, Norweigian brought by Deadlock, French desserts by Chamber, and Russian dishes by the help of Sova’s recipes paired with Cypher’s Moroccan dishes. Skye, Brimstone, and Phoenix helped in the cooking since you commented that their food had no spices or it was bland.  Different types of food around the world are displayed on the table.
Everyone had a taste of everyone’s culture. Neon and Gekko happily eat Phoenix and Brimstone enjoying everyone’s food. You of course had a taste of everything especially Sage’s hot pot and Neon’s Sinigang.
Around 2 hours later everyone was wasted, except for those who didn’t drink like Killjoy, Cypher, Omen, Sage was sober, and Deadlock. You were sober given the only few shots you had compared to Brimstone and Breach. You see Iso on the couch dozing off, so you approach him again. “Iso, wake up, I’ll take you to your new room.” You see Iso’s flushed face again and you’ll never get tired of seeing it. You help Iso up and he clutches his bag in one hand. “Your other stuff will be brought here by the end of the week, c’mon.”
You open the door that leads to the dormitories, and after a few seconds of walking, you meet with a door that only you, Brimstone, Sage, and Iso can open. Iso opens the door with his handprint and is met with a hotel-like room. “I’ll let you settle in for the night, get some rest, Agent.” You say as he observes the room, sitting on the bed and setting his bag aside.
“Oh and I know we said this earlier but.” You say, preparing to close the door before you leave. “Goodnight Iso, welcome to your new home, and welcome to Valorant.”
(Later on that evening you had to fix the table and get everyone to their dorms which left you exhausted the next day, making you sleep the whole morning off. Well done agent!)
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twst-drabbles · 9 months
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Azul 22
Summary: Azul, in a fashion you’re awfully familiar and annoyed with, tried to be condescendingly coy about your position as janitor.
(So, the heat’s getting so bad that I haven’t stepped into the kitchen at all. There’s no AC there, and with temperatures climbing even higher next week due to my proximity to Mexico, I’ve been relying on snacks and precooked meals. 100 F. On average. I hate it. So much.)
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“Though, I do find it rather interesting how you can stay so arrogant in a place where you stand above no one.”
Azul says that like he doesn’t constantly rub his thumb over his contracts. Like he hasn’t panicked when you did a deep clean of his office—at his request—that included touching his safe. Like he isn’t eager to lure in the next scrub that needs something done and willing to give something precious away. Like he hasn’t muttered furiously under his breath when he suspected a contract was missing when in reality, it was in the back of the safe.
You stay away from the business of others because you know of the trouble that will come out of it. This college, from the moment you met the eyes and fake smiles around you, reeked to the skies of egos that that never had to be popped. Because the headmage here refused to dip his hands into the very business he signed up for.
You have a shitload of work to do. You haven’t sat down since you got out of bed this morning. The restaurant Azul owns has just finished for the day and now you’re being paid to do a deep clean again as though he didn’t have any other workers on standby to do that.
You don’t know what the fuck’s going on with this man, but you don’t give enough of a shit to be polite.
“And yet you laugh at me like you’re not my neighbor in this supposed pit.”
Azul didn’t flinch, not like you expect slimy business men such as he to do so. To do the shady stuff he does, he has to be made of tougher stuff, or at least skilled enough with his tongue to turn thing in his favor. Still though, the light pause was enough for you to pick up.
He really thought you were somebody that lets thinly veiled insults fly because of fear of breaching some sort of social etiquette rule.
“…Of course I’m not laughing at you. I have no reason to do such a horrible thing. Though, I have to say, your image of me is quite warped.“
There’s always something grating about people that try to word their insults in this disassociated way, like they’re a birdwatcher or a scientist. Just making an interesting observation, no need to pay them any mind, because if you do, you’re the asshole for supposedly putting words in their mouth.
“Like you know shit about me and what I think. And you don’t even care to know. You’re just pissed and looking for something fun.”
You’ve been temporarily placed in Octavinelle to clean it up for the time being. You can say you’re fairly used to students trying to add more work than you’re required to do. This included Azul, who somehow expected the restaurant he has all rights to be part of cleaning up the dorm.
And you, with every other person that made these assumptions, made them pay extra. Lot of them said no, but Azul said yes with a very low tide of loathing when you didn’t budge an inch.
Authority has never made you give into anything you didn’t want to do. You weren’t going to start now.
“Angry? What gave you that impression? I’m not one to get angry over anything trivial, if that’s what you’re implying.”
Ah, now he’s probing for something. A slip up, any sign of hesitation, perhaps a momentary lapse in confidence? Or maybe he wants you to explode in anger. Oh well, you’re not gonna bother.
“Pay me,” you reached out to Azul with an open palm.
“…What?”
You have to admit, there’s something satisfying about the way he clenched his jaw, like speaking to you was the same as pulling teeth.
“You want my advice on how I can stay ‘arrogant’ in this college while you struggle with your ego, you have to pay me for it.”
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babyhatesreality · 1 year
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The Sinner and the Saint Ch 4
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Pairings: Slow Burn Mob!Boss Bucky x f!reader
Warnings: NSFW, f!reader, language, fake names (for now), reader is referred to and goes by her stage name, sarcastic talk of mafia violence, everybody has secrets, reader says unkind things about herself, reader is an exotic dancer, slow burn relationship. There will be many, many more warnings for future chapters including mafia and all the stuff that comes with that, kinks, and smut. ALSO- narrative focus will go back and forth between Bucky and reader from here on out. 
YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. MINORS DNI. THIS IS AN 18+ STORY ONLY AND IS NSFW. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE COPIED, REPRINTED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY PLATFORM EXCEPT MY OWN.
Previous- Chapter 3
Chapter 4
“Here you go, Mr. Barnes,” Natasha said with corporate formality. “She’s all yours.”
Bucky Barnes scanned the print out of the week’s schedule quickly, trying to find your stage name and start planning. Then it hit him. He looked up at Natasha quizzically. 
“‘MR.’ Barnes?” he said, his forehead furrowing in confusion. “What the fuck, Red? Since when am I ‘Mr. Barnes’ to you?”
Natasha returned to her formal smile with her hands politely folded behind her back. “You’re the one who stormed in here like Pacino with a grudge,” she said sweetly. He could practically see the sarcasm radiating off her, and it made him scowl. “I just thought we were moving in a more professional direction, that’s all.” She tilted her head and gave him her empty, saccharine smile. 
Bucky suddenly chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “Remind me again why I haven’t murdered you yet?” he said, looking at her affectionately. 
“Because you love me,” she said, slugging him on the arm in a sisterly way and dropping her corporate stance. “Also because who else would keep this place running like a top? Don’t you like owning the most successful exotic dance hall in all of New York City?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Bucky said, going back to the list, waving her away with a hand. She chuckled and gave Steve a quick wink. She grinned at the slight blush that crossed the blonde’s face, but he remained perfectly stoic. She’d get him to crack one of these days, she thought to herself. 
Bucky made sure to catch your stage name everywhere it was printed on the list, even going so far as to take a quick picture of it and save it to his phone, just in case. He carefully folded up the print out and put it in his jacket pocket, right next to his heart. He turned to Steve, a strange and fascinating glint in his eye. 
“She’s new in town, only been here a little while,” he said, answering his right hand man’s unspoken question. He and Steve had been best buddies since the cradle, and no hierarchy in the family could or would ever change that. “She didn’t recognize me.”
“For the amount we pay the press to keep your face out of it, I’m glad to hear it,” Steve replied, the tiniest smile curving at the corner of his lip. He gave a slight nod to Bucky’s gloves. “She didn’t think anything of the gloves?”
“Nope. Gave her the old standby,” Bucky said, shrugging with a smug grin.
Steve looked at his best friend, slightly exacerbated. “Don’t tell me you used the-”
“Poor circulation,” Bucky interrupted proudly. “Works every time.” Steve just rolled his eyes- being one of the only people in the world who could do that in Bucky’s presence and live- but didn’t comment further. Bucky turned back to Natasha. 
“Make sure none of the girls tell her who I am. You tell them all to keep their mouths shut,” the Don ordered, the power radiating off him as it always did when he was in full boss mode. “Especially Nebula. She tries to fuck with Angel and she’ll be sorry.”
“Done,” Natasha said, folding her arms. A soft smile bloomed on her face. “I’ve never seen you like this over a woman before, Buggy.”
“How many times do I gotta tell you, Red? Stop calling me Buggy.”
“Then stop calling me Red. What is it about Angel that’s got you so smitten?”
Bucky ran his index finger around his mouth as he got lost in thoughts of you, too caught up in the last hour to remember he was annoyed at his little surrogate sister for calling him that stupid childhood nickname. A slight grin pulled at the corner of his mouth as he thought about your honesty, your passion, and your nervousness. The sparkle and snap of your eyes. Those insane legs that just would not quit. There were a few other things he’d noticed too, but it was too early to think along those lines...in company. Finally, he turned to them. 
“That’s my business,” he said with finality. They both knew better than to challenge that. He reached into his other inside jacket pocket and withdrew an envelope. “Make sure she gets the whole thing. And that she knows she’s mine for the rest of the week.” He wanted to give you something to think about tonight. He wondered if you would dream of him.
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“You’re KIDDING.”
You stared at the contents of the envelope. It was easily three times your rent in cold, hard cash- and in New York City, that was saying something. Your gaze shot back up to Natasha in disbelief. She seemed to be enjoying your confusion. 
“I told you, if you made a good impression you’d walk away plush,” she said, grinning at you. “And you made a really good impression.”
“Is this what it costs to be in the VIP Champagne Room?”
“No, that’s just your tip. Your cut of the fee will be in your check.”
“THERE’S MORE? I....Jesus...what-”
“Take a deep breath, Angel. You did good, kid.”
“But I barely did anything!”
“You talked. You were honest. You gave him what he wanted. Why is that so hard to understand, honey?”
“I just...” your words failed you. It wasn’t real- couldn’t be. You finally just held up the envelope. “I’m not worth THIS.” Natasha’s face took on a sternness you had never seen before. 
“You listen to me, Angel,” she said, stepping deliberately towards you. You were suddenly aware of how powerful she was- something you’d never really noticed before. She was not someone to be fucked with. “You are absolutely worth that. And more. And you better hope that whoever made you think that you aren’t never meets me. Because it will not end well for them.” She stared you down, daring you to contradict her. When all you could do was blink in wonder at her, she held her position for one more moment, before relaxing and chuckling, instantly breaking the tension. She lovingly chucked you under the chin. “Got it slugger?” she said in a joking tone, making you giggle in relief. “Oh. Also, he’s booked you for the week,” she added nonchalantly, her smug smile making a reappearance. 
“WHAT?!” you shrieked, back to panicking instantly after the sweet but tense moment.
“Keep your voice down, there’s still a show going on,” she scolded gently, before shrugging and grinning again as you obediently snapped your mouth shut. “What can I say? You did good, kid. He’s also coming to watch you dance tomorrow night, too.”
“Natasha, who IS he?”
“I told you. He’s a frequent flyer around here.”
“Yeah, but he’s got to be more than that. He told me that you two know each other, that you’re...how did he put it? Work colleagues?”
“He said that?” she asked, looking surprised. 
“Actually, he said you were like a sister to him.”
“That one I find hard to believe,” she said, arching her eyebrow sarcastically at you. “What did he actually say?”
“Um...”
“Just tell me.”
“That you were like the sister he never wanted.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” she chuckled. You could have sworn you heard her mutter “Dick,” but had turned her face away for a moment, before refocusing on you. She chewed on her lip for a second, like she was thinking. “We’ve known each other for a very long time.”
“Is he an investor in the club or something?”
“He’s here enough, he ought to be.”
“What’s his real name?”
“Oh, no. If he didn’t tell you that, there’s no way I will.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because no.”
“Is that a normal thing for the VIP room? No one uses real names?”
“It can be. Don’t stress over that one, honey. Instead, you should be thinking about what song you’re going to perform tomorrow night. You want a classic, or something new?”
Your brain instantly thought of fucking him senseless after you’d performed all the song possibilities that you had. What in the world were you going to choose?
And then, the perfect song came to you. You only hoped Natasha would go for it. It wasn’t the typical fare- but then again, neither were you. 
****************************************************************************
The next day, you were a bundle of nerves. There was a giddiness combined with anxiety that reminded you, strangely, of an opening night buzz. Something was about to happen, something big. Or maybe you’d flop and fail. Either way, your life was about to change. 
You picked out your performance outfit carefully, as well as a special one for the Champagne Room afterwards. Just because you were already booked with this gorgeous and mysterious stud didn’t mean that you didn’t want to try to look your best. Although you were probably fooling yourself. Maybe he really did just want to keep talking. Maybe this was all for nothing and he just needed a sympathetic ear. 
Then you thought about the way his bare finger traced your cheek before he left the room. And your heart beat its new rhythm. 
Or maybe not. 
Sprite came to give you the heads up that you were on deck. You marched out of the dressing room, took off your robe, hung it on the hook next to Sersi’s who was currently onstage, and took a deep breath. You barely noticed the applause and hoots and hollers as Sersi exited, but you managed to give her a smile and a kind word as she passed, almost as if you were on autopilot. Rhodey announced your name, and you slipped through the mylar curtain. Your stage persona took over then, and you felt your face bloom into that mysterious, alluring smile that drove the patrons wild. 
You couldn’t help but quickly scan the room. And there he was. Tucked into a smaller booth in the back, over to the side, with a perfect view of the stage. You’d never have noticed it if you weren’t looking, but now it seemed to draw your attention like a siren’s call. He was wearing a dark suit tonight, black shirt with no tie, but still with the leather gloves. And you nearly lost your cool when his deep blue eyes instantly locked on yours. 
Summoning up everything you had in you, you marshaled your professionalism and shut out everything but the moment. You subtly brought your right foot behind your left, and looked down. You were ready. 
The music started. You looked up slowly. Right into those blue eyes. Your lips twisted into a devilish smile. 
Chapter 4
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Nights at the Circus: Part VIII
Sparks fly at the Stark Investors Soiree, but will fists? Or will, perhaps, something entirely unexpected happen instead? With Steve on your arm, all you know is that Loki’s jealous eye is stalking you throughout the party, and you’re not sure what he’ll do next. 
PART VII, Masterlist 
Content Warning: Jealous AF Loki, public teasing, descriptions of exhibitionism and spanking, sex magic, Dom!Loki Word Count: 3.3k
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You decided not to tell Loki when he came home that evening, instead avoiding him entirely by watching a movie with Thor and Tony. Instead, you chose to wait until the next morning, and after you completely an hour in the gym, warming up for what was probably going to be another muscle-achingly intense session later, this time with Natasha.
You almost expected Loki to slip in and watch you, but it wasn’t until you were almost finished with a simple floor exercise that you heard the elevated voices from the corridor outside.
“What are you doing up here, Loki?”
“I was about to ask you the same, Rogers.”
Ugh, all men are babies, you thought to yourself. I feel like I’m in school again.
“I was coming up here to see if Y/N needed a sparring partner,” Steve explained. “And you? I can think of only one reason you’d be up here. After all, she is the only one on this floor.”
“Just like you to inject rash assumptions into my motivations. You truly are Captain America,” replied Loki.
“You haven’t said one polite word to her since she’s arrived. I don’t know what you two have against each other, but we are adults here, and it’s on you to act like it. If you’d pulled a prank while she was up in the air, she could’ve fallen and broken an ankle.”
You smiled, and you could see as you quietly walked up behind Steve that Loki knew what you were thinking.
“I’m not going to let you mess with her anymore,” Steve continued. “We’re going to the party together tomorrow night, and you can bet I’ll be watching out for her.”
Loki’s expression went neutral. You stopped in your tracks, still a good ten feet behind Steve.
“How sweet,” Loki said behind gritted teeth. “Love seems to be in the air as well as the little Fire Bird’s acrobatics.”
“Don’t go there,” Steve grunted. “If you aren’t going to treat her with respect, then just let her be.”
“Actually,” you chimed in, making Steve sharply turn around, “I’m glad he’s here, Steve. I was planning on talking things through with him myself as soon as I found him. I don’t need you to be my white knight, you know.”
Steve looked sheepishly at the ground and nodded. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“And no time like the present,” you continued. “Steve, I’m training with Nat this afternoon. We can talk about the party at dinner.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me on standby?” Steve offered. You shook your head quietly. “Alright, but if he gives you any trouble you’re not ready for, I’m going to be helping Bruce in the lab later.”
Steve turned and walked away from the temporary defeat. You turned back to Loki.
“So,” he mumbled. “You’ve got a date for the soiree.”
“I’ll admit, I was only half-paying attention when he asked,” you confessed, “but I also don’t plan on rejecting the invitation.”
“Let’s retreat to my room to discuss this in private,” Loki proposed.
You took a step back and vigorously shook your head. “No, I’d prefer we do this on neutral ground.”
“Very well, Bird,” Loki scoffed. “So, you’re just going to try and fuck your way through the whole Initiative, are you? Who’s next, my brother? Natasha?”
You growled angrily. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? You seem the type to like to watch people.”
Loki smirked. “On the contrary, I prefer when people watch me. Why? Were you considering inviting Steve into our trysts? So you can suck his cock and mine at the same time? Oh, it IS a little slut, isn’t it?”
You couldn’t stand it anymore. You walked right up to Loki and struck him on his right cheek, which instantly reddened. “Listen here, Loki, we may have some warped ‘thing’ going on between us, but NO ONE talks to me that way! I ought to tell everyone about us right now, and we can see how they feel about it.”
“All that would do, little girl, is let everyone know how easy it was to get you to take your clothes off for me. Maybe Steve will hear that and think he can finally lose his virginity,” he joked half-heartedly.
“Fuck off, Loki,” you swore. “You’re acting like we’re married! Well, if that happens, please drug me and drag me to the psych ward first.”
Loki pouted and waited a moment, planning his next barb. “You only wish you could be so worthy as to be my wife.”
“I don’t want to be your wife! I don’t want to be here! If fucking you behind closed doors is going to lead to this Dawson’s Creek shit, I may as well set your ass on fire and leave you here in a pile of ash.”
“Such language,” Loki purred, closing in on your again and speaking seductively, his signature move to win an argument. You knew it well, now. “Next time I have you naked in my bed, I’m putting a gag over that pretty little mouth of yours.”
“WILL YOU STOP THAT!?” you yelled, putting a hand on his chest and igniting it, forcing Loki to stumble back. He looked up at you with genuine surprise, and perhaps a little hurt. “Every time we get into this, you just go with the whole forbidden tempter schtick to make me succumb! I’m on to you!”
Loki looked around a moment. “Well then, if you have me so thoroughly figured out, what do you propose, Little Bird?”
“That you let me go on this date with Steve. I don’t like him romantically. I don’t even want to sleep with him, ok? I made a commitment, accident though it was, and I’m just going to honor it. Besides, it’s not like you’ll see me much there anyway. Tony asked me to do a demonstration for the guests.”
“Oh, how lovely,” Loki quipped. “You’re going to set yourself aflame and shake your pert little ass for the elites of New York society! Such dignity!”
You sighed, exasperated. “For fuck’s sake, it’s my debut as an Avenger. They need to see me.”
You and Loki spent moment looking at each other, almost as if a staring contest would determine who was in the right. “I’ve already told you, I don’t do the jealous type.”
“Except you already have, twice,” Loki responded with a small smile. “It’s who I am. I don’t share well, and I never have.”
You snarled, “Well, it’s exhausting. Can’t you just let me do this? As I said, I didn’t exactly raise my hand and jump up and down when he asked me. If I assure you that I’m not actually dating him, will you not lose your head for once?”
Loki bit his lip and cocked his head to the side as he thought it out. “You…you do know what the rules are, remember?”
“Rules?”
“If you disobey me, I punish you. If you go with Steve tomorrow night, I suppose I can behave myself…but I already told you how I felt about him, so don’t be surprised if seeing you with him makes me twitch.”
You felt your spine tingle and your skin go hot. “Does this mean you’re fine with it?”
“Absolutely not,” Loki answered. “As I said, I will need to punish you later for the insolence.”
You looked around the corridor, as if someone was going to round the corner at any moment and bust you.
“And how do you suggest we do that?” you asked meekly, turning your submissive character on.
Loki grinned and his shoulders dropped as you finally gave him the inch he wanted. “Just wait.” With that, he spun around on his heels and began leaving your presence.
“Wait!” you called after him. “When will you teach me my lesson?”
Loki slowly turned back to you and winked. “At the party. In front of everyone.”
Before you could protest, he turned away from you and retreated, leaving you perplexed, furious, and horny as hell in the middle of the hallway.
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The finale of Stravinksy’s Firebird Suite swelled as you completed 16 fouettés and let your hands and ankles glow with blue flames as you spun. You’d spoken with Tony, who suggested throwing together something with more dance elements than acrobatics (the space was too small), and to a soundtrack that “the Boomers” wouldn’t find offensive. Luckily, the dance training you’d had in the circus was enough to bring together a five-minute tableau (set to music you picked unironically in spite of the name). You were no Misty Copeland, but it was the fire you knew they wanted to see anyway, so you biggest worry was not setting the place ablaze.
Steve was in the front row, a big admiring smile on his face. Though you couldn’t see him, you knew Loki was somewhere in the crowd, possibly about to do something drastic. You hoped, however, that he wouldn’t stoop so low as to destroy your presentation.
As the final chord reached a climax, you took your final pose, stretching to the ceiling with one arm, holding the other out behind you, your feet in pointed fourth position. The party goers cheered and applauded, and you could even hear a few “bravas” in the crowd. You took a quick bow as Tony came out onto the floor to join you.
“See? We don’t just smash buildings and save your asses,” Tony spoke up. “We know how to relate to you. The Initiative wants to work with you all to make the world a safer place, so be sure to keep that in mind as we get you drunk and ask you for money.”
The party laughed, and Tony brought up a sound system with a more standard gala soundtrack. He leaned over to you. “I think The Cap was impressed.”
You swallowed hard to stop yourself from sighing. “Okay,” was all you could muster as a reply.
Tony gave you a puzzled look, but he didn’t have time to say anything else before Steve made his way over. The lights came up, and you could see Loki on the other side of the room in an all-black suit, his hair combed back, leaning against a wall with an empty shot glass. His eyes were laser-focused on you from all the way by the door.
God, what is he going to do to me here? You shuddered in anticipation. Shit, he’s hot.
“Y/N, that was a stunning display,” Steve commented.
You felt yourself blush. “Thank you. I needed a little bit of dance training if I was to make anything of my circus act.”
“Well, you were quite a vision,” he admitted.
Oh rats, you thought. He’s actually into me. Am I leading him on?
“Thank you. I have to admit, I’m nervous about meeting some of these people,” you confessed. Steve nodded. “I hope I don’t say something wrong to someone and piss them off.”
“I’ve met some of these people. Only about half of them are snobs, so if you just let them talk about themselves, it’ll work out. Stick with me tonight and you’ll ace it.”
You giggled and let Steve lead you into the party, where several minutes went by with you making small talk in between recitations of the story of how your fire came to be. People were, for the most part, fascinated by you, and you played your role as the ‘relatable’ one rather well. Every other minute, you flicked your eyes over to Loki, who was still hyper-focused on you, but hadn’t moved from the wall.
Maybe he’s just tormenting me by making me THINK he’s going to pull something….
“Good evening,” you heard Loki say as he suddenly appeared at your side.
Damn.
“Oh, Loki, I didn’t even realize you’d made it,” Steve said with a smile. “Where have you been? You must have missed Y/N’s performance.”
“I’m not one for small talk. I prefer enjoying the revelries from the periphery,” he answered. “And no, I did not miss the show. I stood in the back. No sense in being selfish and taking up the front seats when the display is for the investors, yes?”
You held back a laugh as Steve nodded awkwardly. Was a cat fight going to break out?
“However, I did come over to you with a purpose. I must speak with Y/N for a moment,” Loki insisted, looking at you with a wink. You raised an eyebrow as you felt your stomach flutter excitedly.
“You must? Loki, there’s no reason to start something here, you need to—”
“—I’ll be right back, Steve,” you interrupted, breaking free from his arm and standing over by Loki. “For fuc—heaven’s sake, I will be five minutes,” you assured him, making sure to look Loki in the eye and emphasize the last words. Loki smiled and nodded.
“Okay, but call me if he touches you,” Steve requested.
“Oh, there’s no need to worry about that,” Loki replied slowly. “I don’t intend to lay a hand on her.”
You noticed Loki wiggle his fingers discreetly, and suddenly, you felt your cunt go hot with need, a dull, pleasurable ache radiating down your core. It took everything to not react to your sudden arousal. That. Bastard.
Loki motioned for you to follow him back to where he had been standing by the wall. “It will be easier for you to hear me from here,” he reasoned.
“Loki, what the fu---uh---huuuuh!” you began to scold, but instead began moaning as Loki waved a finger again. You were beginning to feel yourself slicken. “No fair!”
“I gave you plenty of warning,” Loki chuckled. “Now, you’re going to stand here with me and listen to me tell you what I’d be doing right now if I didn’t have to mind my manners in front of these people. You’re going to listen to me tell my story, okay, pet?”
“Oh, Loki,” you whispered. “You’re going to drive me insane.”
“Also, that tingle that I know you feel between your legs right now? It’s not going away until I say it is.”
He flicked a finger again, and suddenly the growing heat inside you began pulsing weakly.
“Now, I won’t be forbidding you from doing anything, Fire Bird,” he continued, “but keep in mind, we have to be on our best, most appropriate behavior for our rich friends.”
“I’m getting you back for this, asshole,” you responded. Loki tsked and shook his head.
“My pet, if I could, I would throw you over my shoulder, bring you to the center of this room, tear your dress off, and take you over my knee and spank you until your cheeks were red. In front of everyone here.”
You weren’t flaming, but your face was still burning.
He went on. “Then, I would flip you over and claim your cunt in full view of anyone who wished to watch, so the whole room would know that you belong to me. I would make you shout my name so loudly that the music wouldn’t be able to drown out your shrieks of love for me. I would show our lusty audience what happens when Master’s Pet displeases him.”
Your walls were trembling violently. You were conscious that you were already flooded with desire inside.
“I would make Rogers sit in the front row to watch as I fucked you over and over, so there’d never be any mistake again who owns your pussy and who never will. I’d make you cum over and over, and every time I did, I would look up into that child’s toy mascot’s eyes as you quivered under me and moaned my name, asserting my dominance and skills that he couldn’t possibly aspire to.”
Your knees began shaking, your twat aching for Loki’s cock to fill it in.
“Do you think that bloat of a man could fuck you the way I could? Because I’ll make a confession: I can’t stand the thought of him having what’s mine. Imagining you milking his cock instead of mine irritates me to no end. I want you all to myself, and I would prove it in front of the whole world by going inside you, here and now, giving those investors a presentation of our own.”
“Damn you,” you mumbled.
“You wouldn’t be able to walk for three days after I got through with you, and you would squirm and squeal and enjoy every single moment of it, my little slut,” Loki mused, painting such an overwhelming scenario to punctuate the burning ache between your legs. “Now, tell me, pet, are you still dripping for me down there?”
“Yes,” you breathed your answer as softly as fathomable, pressing your thighs together and trying not to show how turned on you were. “I want your dick inside me, Loki. Hard.”
“That’s interesting,” Loki said. “Because I stopped casting my spell on your desperate, soaked cunt at the Rogers part of my tale, a few moments back.”
“Hey Loki, its been five minutes, now will you leave her alone?” said Steve, having briskly walked over upon seeing the heat rise in your face, which he took for genuine embarrassment. “Do I need to remind you that you are under our responsibility? I’m not in the mood to explain you to anyone.”
“Explain me?” Loki sneered. “What exactly does that mean?”
“I think you know what I mean,” said Steve. “I have you figured out.”
“Oh, you do, now?” Loki raised an eyebrow. “Do share your conclusions with us.”
“You’re in love with Y/N,” Steve spat out his accusation. “But you know you’re too far beneath her, so you resort to what boys all do in school and pick on her to gain her attention. Well, we aren’t children, so unless you plan to grow up any time soon, stay the heck away from her.”
Loki’s face went white at the charge of love. Something inside you got the feeling that Steve’s blunt indictment hit a nerve with him.
“Hey, I can speak for myself, Steve,” you barked at him. “And I’ll thank you to quit trying to be cavalier with me. That’s certainly not the way to my heart, so maybe you’re the one who needs to think again!”
“You looked upset,” he said, defending himself. “What was he saying to you?”
“Why is it any of your business, what he said to me?” you rebounded. “Steve, we can talk in the morning, but I’ll be honest…I just want to leave. Loki was only saying that my dance style was similar to a kind they have on Asgard.” You were beginning to feel a headache coming on as a result of all of this drama, and you began rubbing your temples with your fingers to try and stave it off.
“Y/N,” Loki said softly, his dominant demeanor melting away upon seeing the distress beginning to build behind your eyes. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I will once I get into bed,” you sighed. “Steve, please don’t antagonize Loki anymore, just because you don’t approve of him. It doesn’t make you appear any more manly to pass down judgement like that.”
Steve frowned, a humbling blush creeping up his face. “I apologize, Y/N.”
“Tell Tony I said good night, and that I would have stayed longer, but I got a headache,” you said, making your move to leave.
Before you left the room, you turned back to see Loki’s eyes following you, as you expected. Steve’s back was to you. You held up a subtle finger and mouthed the words “one hour, my room.”
You could barely make it out, but Loki gave a subtle head nod to affirm the appointment. By the time Steve turned around to see who Loki was gesturing at, you’d already slipped off to go upstairs and make ready for the rest of your punishment.
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@huntress-artemiss @el-zef @lokisgoodgirlbackup @lokisninerealms @mischief2sarawr @michelleleewise​ @toozmanykids​
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etheshadowlord · 5 months
Text
The Festival of Shadows: Emergence.
[The following is a short companion piece of written fiction for the Festival Shadows Event on E_TernalShadows twitch channel. I'm just writing it because I want to and creating lore for my Avi is fun.]
Oct 19th, 2023 10:30 PM
The night was eerily still, even for the city. It left him on edge as he vividly recalled the nightmares he had been having for weeks of a man... no it was something that was no longer a man. A being that had surpassed mortal bounds and was twisted for it. Of legions of dark cackling things with glowing gold eyes.
He rubbed his temples as he stood with his partner as they continued the night watch. His partner being more animate than him. "I really don't understand what they think is going to happen." He commented making him realized how long he had been sloppily inattentive.
"I'm sorry, could you say that again?" He asked politely.
"I'm saying I don't understand what the big deal is with that relic." His partner reiterated. "Sure it's a relic from back during the mythic ages, back when Dragons and other monsters walked this earth. However, magic like the rest of those things is now extinct so what's the point?"
"I mean...yeah? But isn't it strange that all of those that used to exist just....disappeared? Like one day we had wizards, then next thing the history books are writing about how civilizations collapsed as magic just poofed."
"Like it will just suddenly reappear." His partner scoffed. "Listen to you, rookie. I know that some are talking about how you're the seventh son or something but magic is gone, it ain't coming back."
He opened his mouth to respond however he was stopped by a sound coming from nearby. Like a pulse, one that they felt more than heard.
"Did you feel that?" He asked as his partner seem to stiffen like he was given a full dose of the heebie-jeebies.
"Yeah, hold on, Rookie, I'm calling this in." His partner said as he pulled out his radio while preparing his gun just in case. "Security office, this is Officer Martin, I'm in the back entrance with the Rookie, Watchman Richards. We just heard....felt something. Is everything going on okay inside? Over."
"Officer Martin, we also felt it. It's like it's right on top of the building. We're planning on evacuating the building immediately. Standby, over." The lady in the security office ordered over the radio.
"Roger that, over." Martin responded before he moved to Richards. "Okay, Rookie, we're going to be evacuating and waiting for help. So make sure you stay calm and fol-." Martins began to say to Richards before all hell seemed to break loose. The pulse from before returned, now a erratic heartbeat of energy that consumed the building they were charged with guarding. "Fuck!" Martin cursed as he began trying to reach those still inside but only got radio silence. Not that they had much time before they were suddenly accosted.
Creatures made of shadows with eyes of gold surrounded them. And though Martin's efforts with a gun were valiant, the horde didn't seem bothered by his bullets. Richard swung at what was in reach from his club and struggled. He couldn't back down though.
He reached for a store of energy that wasn't there before and with a yell his club turned into a blade of glistening light that banished the creatures and cleared a way for them before vanishing. Though Martin was stunned, he quickly recomposed himself barking at the Rookie to hurry so they can regroup seeing that they were not in a defensible position.
As they got away from the building, Richards looked up at the building and saw how the once squat four floor reasearch center now became a towering enigma into the abyssal night.
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𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐚
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Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: When Y/N visits Harvelle’s, she’s not feeling her best. It isn’t until another bright-eyed hunter joins her for a drink that things start to liven up...
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Y/N sat on the rickety barstool. She eyed the spirits lined up on the top shelf and glanced around Harvelle’s Roadhouse. It was empty save for a couple of ragged hunters hustling at the pool table.
“Something on your mind?” Ellen asked from behind the counter.
Y/N turned back and smiled wearily. “Not really. Just wondering how I ended up here.”
“Honey, I haven’t even served you the good stuff yet,” Ellen winked.
Y/N stretched in her seat and sighed. “You know what I mean. Hunt. Drive. Sleep. Repeat. I never thought my life would end up this way.”
Ellen laid down a drying cloth and leaned against the counter. “None of us ever did,” she said softly. “Our job might be a burden but it’s all we’ve got. Now, how bout’ a drink?”
Y/N smiled weakly and gave a thumbs up. “Sounds good to me. I’ll get a Coke. Hold the rum, I’m driving.”
Ellen rolled her eyes. “Coming right up.”
“Tell me I’m dreaming.”
Y/N gave a start and looked to her left. She hadn’t noticed that a young man had taken a seat on the stool next to her despite the line of empty spots.
She quirked a brow. “Is that your idea of a pick-up line?” she asked, unimpressed.
The man turned away from her to wave at Ellen. “Double shot of whiskey. Rocks!” he called out.
“On it!”
He turned back to Y/N and grinned. “Course’ not. I just can’t believe you ordered a can of Coke at a bar. Just making sure my eyes aren’t deceiving me. You know that they sell booze here, right?”
“I like pop.”
“I can see that. Just take it easy on the sugar, something tells me you’re sweet enough,” he said with a wink.
“Dean Winchester!” Ellen exclaimed, placing an amber glass and a red can in front of the man and Y/N respectively. “Quit heckling my customers!”
“I happen to be engaging in polite conversation here, Ellen,” he said innocently. “No harm done. Oh and before you go, how bout’ you keep a couple of beers on standby for me?”
Y/N chuffed in amusement. “I’ll lay off the sugar alright,” she said. “Just as soon as you tone down on the alcohol. It’ll do a number on your liver, you know.”
He tipped his glass forwards. “Touché.”
Y/N watched as he downed his drink with a grimace. “So, Dean Winchester, is it?” she asked, cracking open her can.
“That’s right.”
“Well, what brings you to the slums, Dean Winchester?”
“Watch your mouth, young lady! That’s my bar you’re talking about,” Ellen warned, reaching over to swat Y/N with a dishcloth.
“Good company,” Dean grinned, not missing a beat. “I found you, didn’t I?”
“Real smooth.”
He shrugged. “I try,” he said with a click of his tongue.
Y/N watched as he studied her, his expression mischievous. Dean Winchester was handsome, she’d give him that much.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she told him. “About why you’re here.” She drank a sip of Coke. “Are you hunting or riding by just for kicks?”
Dean’s easy smile faltered. He turned away, eyeing Ellen’s bottles behind the counter. “Just passing through,” he said absentmindedly. “Looking for someone, actually.”
His face darkened for a moment and Y/N frowned at the sudden shift. “Dean?” she asked hesitantly.
“Yeah?” He turned back and his smile had returned. Y/N felt a chill. “I lost you there for a second,” she said.
“I’m here. Just mapping out a couple of things.”
“Right.”
Y/N watched as Ellen brought him a bottle of beer, and he drank it eagerly. There was more to him than just the cool guy façade he put on, and against her better judgment, Y/N was intrigued. She was about to invite him out to dinner when the Roadhouse’s doors opened and closed with a bang.
“Dean!” a voice called out. Y/N watched as another young man stomped to the barstools where she and Dean were sitting, a frown on his face. “What the hell, man? You were only supposed to ask Ellen for directions to our next stop. I’ve been waiting in the car for the past half hour!”
“Sammy!” Dean laughed. “I got distracted. It happens”
Sam crossed his arms. “What’s her name?”
“Who’s name?”
“The distraction’s.”
Y/N smiled and turned around in her seat. “I think that’s me,” she said, extending a hand. “The name’s Y/N.”
“Sam Winchester,” he said kindly.
“Winchester? So you and Dean are-"
“Brothers, yeah. So we’re told,” Sam said, shooting a scowl Dean’s way.
Just then, Ellen came by, pen and map in hand. “I marked up the way for you boys,” she said. “This should get you where you need to go.”
Dean took the map and pen and Y/N caught him scribbling something down. “We should get going,” Sam said, drawing her attention away from his brother. “It was nice meeting you. Come on Dean...” he finished icily.
Y/N waved goodbye before turning back at Dean. “I guess this is it,” she said.
The Winchester sat up and winked. “One thing you should know about me sweetheart, is that I’m hard to get rid of.”
With that, he turned on his heel and followed his brother out the door.
Y/N heard the thrum of an engine as the Winchesters drove off. She played with the paper lining of her straw, saddened by Dean’s impromptu goodbye.
“Those boys are in way over their heads,” Ellen said suddenly.
Y/N looked up. “Why are they really here?” she asked conspiratorially.
Ellen looked around, wary of eavesdroppers. “They’re after the thing that killed their folks,” she whispered. “And that’s all I’m telling you because it ain’t my place to say.”
Y/N nodded and went back to sulking.
“Before I forget...” Ellen said, a smile on her face. “Dean left this behind.” She pulled out a crumpled napkin and placed it in front of Y/N. “He sure is a romantic one, that boy.”
Y/N took it and rolled her eyes at its poor state. When she unwrapped it, she saw a phone number scrawled in pen, along with a crudely drawn heart and a note. 
You didn’t think I’d just leave you in the dust, did you?  
Y/N grinned and ran a hand through her hair, trying to feign disinterest in Dean Winchester’s token. 
“Well? What’s it say?” Ellen asked.
Y/N shrugged, her smile growing wider. “It only says that I haven’t seen the last of Dean Winchester.” She tucked the note in her pocket, careful not to lose the small treasure. “Not by a long shot.”
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Might I suggest Cruisin’?
If you’d like to be tagged in any future Supernatural fics, just tell me in the comments... or visit my taglist! (and if you’d rather not be tagged in ALL Supernatural fics, please specify; EX: Reader x Dean, Christmas with TFW series, etc…)
Hey guys, I hope you liked this one! Early Supernatural vibes are just--- you know what I mean?
I actually first had the idea of writing this fic as Arthur Ketch x Reader back at the Bunker, but apparently people aren't into Ketch like that?????
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!
HAVE A BRILLIANT DAY!!!
Tagging the coooool: @waiting-for-cas-to-save-me @the-chaotic-cow​  @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @adaydreamaway08 @stitchintimefan @andthevillainshallrises @justyourlocalwhore @eliwinchester99
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cryonme · 3 years
Text
𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐕
PART FIVE- “Just Because They’re Not Here Doesn’t Mean They Stopped Being Wonderful.”
part one here
part two here
part three here
part four here
short series- jj maybank x kook!reader
word count- 4.3k
tw- guns, knives, mentions of weed, stabbing, swearing, mentions of death, fluff 😊, angst 👿, mentions of murder, fighting, drinking, mentions of stitches and hospitals. lmk if I missed anything
a/n- don’t u all love how I said this was gonna be a “short” series and now we’re at 19.2k words total and five parts? and not even done yet? lol. anyway, this chapter is a fucking rollercoaster of emotions and shit gets really real really fast so hold onto your hats, grab some popcorn, and happy reading!
✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼
“Wait, what the fuck?”
Your friends all stared at you with wide eyes, mouths agape. JJ’s grip tightened on your thigh, you winced a little but he didn’t let up, which you were glad he didn’t.
“Wait, your mom is dead?” John B asked, earning a smack on the back of the head from Sarah.
“You had a sister?!” Pope explained, confusion plastered on his face. “I thought that was just a ru- OW!” A smack from Kiara.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Yeah.”
“You think you know a person then all of the sudden she has a dead mom and sister who were killed by her step brother that you didn’t know about.” John B said, a hint of humor in his voice.
“This isn’t funny, John B.” Sarah scolded.
“It’s fine, Sarah.” You assured your friend. “Look, I know I’m a shit friend for not telling you guys things about my life. Tyler, the abortion, my mom and sister. And I’ll work on getting better at it but all of that isn’t important right now, okay?” You looked between John B and Pope, waiting expectedly before they both nodded and backed off.
“What makes you say that, (Y/n)?” Kie asked you, fully turning her attention to you.
“Well when- um, when Tyler showed up at my house that day,” You swallowed your fear, sitting up straight and taking a deep breath. “When Tyler showed up at my house that day, he said ‘I did everything I could to get my mom to marry your dad. My mom doesn’t know, but what she doesn’t know won’t kill her, and now you’re ruining everything with your fat fucking mouth.’”
The room was silent. Nobody really knew what to make out of all of this, all this time you had come off so unbothered, like your life was picture perfect and there was never a dark cloud in your sky. Everything that had happened the past couple of weeks came out of nowhere for the group of friends, especially JJ, John B and Pope, who didn’t even know you had a step brother. But when the three thought back on it, they never really asked.
After about a minute of everyone sitting in shock, Sarah spoke up, “Well, we need to tell your dad and Christine, right?’
You shook your head, “Not until I have enough proof. The entire island’s eyes are on me right now and if I’m wrong I make a fool of myself. I know this is gonna sound really stupid but, I need to find Tyler.”
“No.” JJ protested, his voice sharp.
“You’re right, (Y/n). That does sound stupid.” Pope agreed.
“Super stupid.” John B chimed in.
“I love you, but I have never heard more stupid words leave your mouth.” Kiara said.
“Guys, maybe hear her out.” Sarah said.
Kie whipped her head to the side, looking at the blonde girl in bewilderment. “Seriously? I’m not listening to you when all you seem to do is put (Y/n) in more danger.”
“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t know what the fuck to do!” “You tell someone, dumbass!”
“Jesus, you two! Shut the fuck up!” You interjected, standing up and stomping your foot, ignoring the shooting pain going up your leg.
“I came here because I need help, not to sit here and be judged and have you two fight with each other. Kie, lay off. I begged Sarah not to say anything until I was ready, and promised not to go home until I said something, okay? And you two.” You gestured to John B and Pope, “Telling me I’m stupid for something that I haven’t even explained yet is a little premature. Can we all fucking focus?” You had your time to cry and allow yourself to be broken, but now it was time to get shit done.
Kie shrunk in her seat, muttering a half assed “Sorry” under her breath and crossing her arms. John B and Pope nodded, both boys looking down at their shoes. You sat back down and JJ’s hand returned to its rightful spot on your thigh.
“Now, just, listen to me for a second. We,” You put the emphasis on that word so everyone would be a little bit more open to the idea, “Need to find Tyler so we can somehow record a confession from him. I’ll rile him up, and once I get the confession we get the fuck out. Got it?”
“How the fuck are you gonna find him? Even the Sheriff's department can’t find him.” Sarah said.
“Right,” You responded, “First thing to consider, the police are incompetent, especially here. They probably looked at my house and his job before giving up.”
JJ chuckled, shaking his head as he listened to you talk in awe.
“Second thing to consider, I have his number. I can ask him to meet up and talk it out.”
“The more you talk, the more I really don’t like this plan.” JJ muttered, raking his fingers through his hair.
“The more you talk, the more I wanna kick your teeth in.” You smiled sweetly, “This is the only way.” You tried pulling a joke, but JJ’s face remained concerned, so your face fell and you leaned into him. “I’ll be okay, JJ. I’ve been dealing with Tyler for years, okay?”
JJ nodded, taking a deep breath before pulling away from you.
“So what can we do?”
“Wherever I meet up with Tyler, I need you all to be on standby. Someone on lookout, someone hiding near me just in case things go south, and someone waiting in the vam.”
Everyone agreed in unison, nodding their heads. “Anything we can to get this asshole put away.” John B said, giving you an encouraging smile.
+
After going over a few details, and finally sending the text to Tyler that you wanted to meet up, the pogues dispersed around the chateau. Pope was talking Sarah’s ear off about the latest book he had just finished while she politely listened and even threw in a couple of her own thoughts, John B and Kie playfully jabbed long sticks at each other, and JJ stood on the porch, watching you swing by yourself on the hammock, lost in thought. He was trying to decide if he should approach you, or give you space. Just then you turned your head and made eye contact with the blond boy, a soft smile on your face, your signature red lipstick back where it belongs.
Fuck space.
He bounded down the stairs and made his way over to you on the hammock, plopping down next to you. Neither of you said anything for a couple minutes, there wasn’t much to say.
“I was 14.” You said, breaking the silence, causing JJ’s head to turn towards you. He stayed silent as you continued.
“Hit and run.” You laughed bitterly. “My little sister was 12. We were finally getting to the point where we didn’t fight everyday, we were becoming friends. She had just started asking me for advice about boys and was always asking to have sleepovers.” You smiled, remembering your little sister fondly. “It still hurts. It’ll always hurt, I think. But, I’ve learned I can’t change what happened, and I try to be thankful for the time I had with her. I would say she probably wouldn’t want me to be sad, but that’s not true, she loved attention.” JJ laughed with you this time.
“What’s her name?” JJ asked.
“Layla.” You responded, her name feeling weird on your tongue. You hadn’t said her name in years. “And my mom, gosh there was no one like my mom.” JJ wasn’t asking, but you were telling.
“She just always understood, you know? She’d let me stay home if my mind was taking over, she continued to buy the ice cream I told her was my favorite when I was 7, I didn’t have the heart to tell her I didn’t like it anymore.” You frowned, staring at your hands. “Christine is great, I love her with everything in me. But sometimes I wish she was in my life under different circumstances.”
JJ nodded in understanding, taking his hand in yours and pressing a lingering kiss to it. “They sound wonderful.”
“They are- were.”
JJ shook his head, “Just because they’re not here doesn’t mean they stopped being wonderful.”
You yanked JJ’s hand so his arm wrapped around your shoulder and you leaned into him, earning a sweet kiss on the top of your head.
“You’re sweet, princess.” You teased, using the nickname that you would use when the two of you fought.
“Tell anyone and you’re dead meat, baby.”
You laughed, resting your head on his chest. “What changed your mind about me?” You asked, biting your bottom lip.
JJ thought for a moment, mulling over his words to avoid saying the wrong thing.
“I never changed my mind.”
Your heart dropped as you began to pull away, feeling embarrassed.
“Uh uh uh, let me finish.” JJ pulled you back against him and you huffed. “I never changed my mind because I’ve felt this way about you all along. I’ve never had such strong feelings for a person before, so when you came along I mistook all of the signs as hatred. My mom left and my dad…” JJ trailed off for a moment, trying to put together his words in the least concerning way possible, “My dad takes his anger out on me. And I just never really learned how to receive love, or how to understand it.”
Your heart sank at JJ’s words. All those times he’d show up to the Chateau with bruises and scrapes, telling everyone to fuck off instead of boasting about how he “totally kicked that kooks ass”, it was his dad.
“JJ-”
“Mmm, let’s not do that now, yeah? Just know I’ve adored you this whole time, I was just too stupid to see it.”
“When did you change your mind about me?” JJ asked.
You pondered for a moment, thinking back on when you first started thinking of JJ differently.
“That night at the Boneyard, when Tyler showed up. I was dancing with Pope and all I could think was, ‘I need JJ’, and then there you were. I didn’t want you to ever leave my side again. When you took me back to the Chateau and sat me down on the couch, I was confused because I felt so safe and loved, more than I ever have. It was so out of the blue. Hours before we had just been screaming at each other and then I never wanted you to let me go.”
“You’re making this really hard, Red.” JJ huffed, running a hand over his face.
“What?” You asked craning your neck to look up at him.
“Not kissing you.”
You sat up from your position on his chest, turning your body so you were facing each other, your legs hanging off one side of the hammock and his off the other.
“Then kiss me.”
“(Y/n)...”
“What, scared?”
JJ didn’t say anything, he just looked at you. You had that striking red grin, and your eyes held that glint of mischief and joy.
“You were just inconsolable like, an hour ago.”
“But I’m not now.”
“I-”
“Please, JJ.” You pouted, your eyes big and your frown deep as you slowly reached for him.
And he couldn’t say no to that face.
He slowly brought his hand up to cradle the side of your neck, his thumb resting on your cheek as his face slowly leaned into yours, his hand softly pulling you closer by the neck. You brought one hand up to the back of his neck, burying your fingers in his hair as his other hand found its place on your waist. You stared at each other for a moment, noses barely touching. Your heart was beating so fast you felt like it was about to crawl out of your throat, the anticipation was driving you crazy but you were also cherishing every second of it, just being so close to him, knowing what’s about to happen.
His lips just barely brushed over yours and your entire body erupted in butterflies, goosebumps dancing all up and down your arms and legs.
“You fucker.” You teased and JJ giggled before fully planting his lips on yours. You felt like you had been on fire and had been dumped into an ice bath. The relief that covered your entire body and soul was something you had never felt before. You had kissed plenty of people in your lifetime, and nothing had ever compared to the feeling you had kissing JJ.
You pulled away for a moment to catch your breath, but JJ whined and pulled you back into him, bringing you to sit on his lap as he continued to kiss you. You both giggled and broke apart when you nearly toppled out of the hammock, JJ’s hands immediately steadying you. He looked up at you while stroking your cheekbone with his thumb before planting soft kisses to your arm, trailing his lips up to your shoulder, neck, cheek and finally one last sweet kiss on your lips.
“Well it’s about goddamn time!” John B yelled as the rest of the pogues whooped and hollered, jumping up and down. Both of you flipped off your friends and JJ kissed you once more, your middle fingers still in the air.
“You’re fucking incredible.” JJ muttered once you broke yet another kiss.
“I know.” You smirked.
Once JJ helped you off the hammock, with a lot of wincing and you telling him his kissing made your bruised lip hurt, you made your way back over to your friends, an unmistakable feeling of joy filling everyone’s hearts.
John B handed you and JJ a beer, which you had to decline because of your concussion, much to your dismay, but you gladly took the joint that Kie offered you, blowing out the smoke into JJ’s mouth before taking the hit for yourself. The sun started to set on the Chateau, so Pope and John B set up a fire and Kie brought out her ukulele, her and Sarah singing in harmony to Over the Rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwo’ole. Your heart swelled in your chest listening to JJ quietly singing along with his arm slung around your shoulders, his face was tinted the slightest shade of pink from being in the sun all day, making his eyes look impossibly more blue. You knew tomorrow brought troubles and anxiety, but you pushed them to the back of your mind, enjoying this beautiful moment with your friends. You rested your head on JJ’s shoulder, your hand coming up to hold his that was around your shoulder, placing a gentle kiss on his hand. JJ blushed and squeezed you just a little bit tighter.
“(Y/n), you staying the night?”
You smiled and nodded, your eyes a bit droopy from the weed. You had texted Christine already, telling her you were staying the night and assuring her that everyone was staying the night and you were safe.
“Yes!” Sarah exclaimed, getting up from her spot next to John B. “More beer?” Everyone apart from you nodded as Sarah made her way inside the house to grab more cold beer.
“Aw, well if it isn’t the goonies.”​​
That voice.
Tyler approached the Chateau, Topper, Kelce and Rafe hot on his heels.
Everyone stood up immediately, JJ pushed you behind him without a second thought.
“Heard my baby sister wanted to meet up tonight, thought I’d come to her, spare her the trouble.” Tyler said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
You were appreciative of JJ’s protectiveness over you, but this was your fight. “I know what you did, Tyler.” You said, trying your hardest to hide the shakiness in your voice as you pushed JJ out of your way, taking a couple steps forward.
“There she is!” Tyler exclaimed, gesturing his arms to you. “You don’t know shit, dumbass.”
“You killed my mom and sister.”
“Me?” Tyler raised a hand to his chest in shock and turned to his friends, who all shook their heads like you were crazy. “I would never do such a thing.” “You said-”
“Did you hit your head too hard the other day? Sounds to me like you’re making things up.”
He was trying to make you feel crazy, and you weren’t putting up with it.
“What was your plan, huh?” You asked, standing your ground. “Hit my mom and my little sister with your car, devastating my family so my dad could go running into your unknowing mother’s arms. Were you gonna kill all of us next so you could get the money? How exactly did you plan on doing that?”
Tyler’s chest was heaving up and down, sharp breaths coming in and out of his nose.
“Layla was 12 years old, you psychopath.”
“I never meant to kill your fucking sister!”
And there it was. Eerie silence fell over the Chateau like a heavy blanket.
“You motherfucker.” You shrieked, stomping forward and sending your hand flying across his cheek. Before you could even blink, Tyler had his hand around your throat and the barrel of a gun pressed to your jaw. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. You could see the pogues, Kiara with a hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes, hugging Sarah close to her, John B and Pope holding JJ back, his eyes wild with anger and fear. You could see Topper and Kelce with wide eyes, obviously unaware of the gun in your step brother's possession. You could see Rafe with a knowing grin on his face. Bastard.
You were terrified, panic surging through your body as you tried to stay still so you wouldn’t anger him with any sudden movements.
“Any of you even think about moving and I kill her!” He screamed.
“Tyler, put the gun down man, what the fuck?” Topper said, his voice calm, trying to talk him down.
“Fuck you!”
And suddenly Tyler was on the ground, the gun flying into the darkness. JJ wasted no time running to your step brother, grabbing him by his shirt collar and beating his face with his fists. You and Rafe made eye contact before both of you made a break for the gun, scrambling through the darkness. Rafe tackled you down and tried to reach for it, but you kneed him in the crotch, hoping to buy you a couple seconds. The Cameron boy groaned and held his area, toppling over and whining in a fetal position.
“Pussy boy.” You rolled your eyes and crawled toward the gun, smiling once it was in your grip before Rafe pulled you back by your ankle. You flipped over onto your back and pointed the gun at him.
“You don’t have the guts.”
“Self defense, bitch. Now get off of me.”
Rafe backed up with his hands in the air and you made your way back to the group, gun in hand, still pointed at Rafe. Tyler and JJ were going at it, both throwing punches and kicks, the rest of the group fighting off Topper and Kelce.
“Back off my friends or I'll shoot!” You yelled, and everyone stopped and turned to you with your gun pointed at Rafe. The three kooks backed off with their hands up in surrender.
“You won’t shoot me, Little Red.” Tyler said, walking closer to you.
“I will if you try anything.” You responded, taking the gun off of Rafe and shoving him forward so he was still in your eyesight, now pointing it at Tyler.  
“You stay away from her!” JJ yelled, charging towards Tyler but quickly being held back by Rafe and Topper.
Tyler got so close to you that the gun was touching his t-shirt.
Why was he testing you? He had to have something up his sleeve.
The motherfucker literally had something up his sleeve.
Tyler tore a switchblade out of his jacket sleeve and jabbed it into your collarbone, and in the same second you fired the gun.
Your brain felt fuzzy, you couldn’t even feel the knife in your collarbone, the only way you knew it was there was because you could see it sticking out of the corner of your eye.
You heard screams, multiple screams.
Footsteps running away.
Was someone crying?
Were you crying?
Everyone ran to you, JJ leading the group, so he got to you first. He immediately put his hands on your face, frantically searching your eyes before you dropped to your knees, JJ following suit.
“Baby, look at me.” He said firmly. Someone gently took the gun from your hands, why were you still holding it? You brought your hand up to touch the knife, crying out in pain from the smallest touch.
“No, don’t touch it, okay? Leave it alone, paramedics are on their way okay?”
You still didn’t look at him, your eyes were wide as you stared at everyone around you, their faces full of concern.
“She’s in shock.” Pope stated. He was crouched in front of you, next to JJ. “Try to bring her back to reality.”
“How the fuck do I do that?” JJ snapped.
“Chill, JJ! Talk to her, touch her, anything!”
JJ’s left hand continued to cradle your face and you leaned into his touch as his right hand threaded through your hair. “You’re okay, okay? Can you talk to me?” His voice broke, tears beginning to fill his blue eyes.
Your eyes wandered away from the group and landed on Tyler’s body, lifeless. You let out a gasp as if all of the wind had been knocked out of your body.
“I killed him.” You rasped.
JJ quickly moved in front of the body, blocking your view of him. Your breathing was shallow as you brought your hands up to your neck, trying to claw at the skin to make way for you to breathe. Pope’s hands gently grabbed yours, moving them away from your neck and holding them in your lap. JJ gave him a thankful nod and he situated himself in front of you.
“Christine-” Your body flooded with guilt and sadness for your stepmom, that was her son. He may have done unspeakable things to you and her family but that was her son. And you killed him.
“Hey, hey, hey. Shhh,” JJ was quick to stop the terrible thought. “You had to, okay? She’ll understand. Just focus on me, baby.”
You nodded and squeezed Pope’s hands, focusing your eyes on JJ’s.
“You’re doing so good, pretty girl. Just a couple more minutes, okay?”
You nodded again. The pain in your collarbone was beginning to worsen as your shock wore off and you whimpered.
Great, you thought, another fucking injury to make my life even better.
Really your whole body hurt, your concussion and bruises worsening and stitches ripping open from Rafe tackling you to the ground.
“It hurts.” You whine, a single tear escaping from your eye, JJ wiped it before it could run down your face. “I know.” He whispered. “I know, my love, I’m so sorry.” He rested his forehead on yours, trying his best to give you as much comfort as he could without pulling you against him and driving the blade further in.
“Fuck, you guys. We didn’t get a recording.” Kie said, slapping her palm against her forehead. You removed one hand from Pope’s and worked through your pain and brought your phone out of your back pocket, tossing it on the ground, not having enough strength to hand it to her.
John B picked it up and smiled, your phone had been recording the entire time, starting just a minute after Tyler made himself known at the Chateau.
“(Y/n), you magnificent kook.” John B said, giving your arm a squeeze. You had moved your forehead to rest on JJ’s shoulder, your body posed awkwardly to avoid the knife being touched, one hand still in Pope’s.
Everyone was relieved, but the dead body in their presence and the knife in your body made it hard to be completely relieved. Once the paramedics and police arrived, JJ had to release you from his hold, watching the paramedics put you on the gurney and load you in the back of the ambulance, by yourself, for the second time.
Kiara and Pope were talking to the police, showing them the proof on your phone and the gun and walking them through everything that happened while JJ watched the ambulance drive away, as soon as it was out of sight he broke down, John B quick to pull his friend into his arms, Sarah gently leaned her head on his back, her hand coming up to stroke his back
“She doesn’t deserve any of this.” JJ cried, holding onto his best friend. He knew you were gonna be okay, the paramedics said the knife would be easy to remove and they could stitch up the wound easily, but he was worried about you. You would never be the same.
“She doesn’t.” John B agreed.
“I just want her to be okay.”
“I know, bubba, me too.” John B replied, his own tears brimming in his eyes, “She will be.”
JJ could feel Sarah shaking against him, her tears wetting his shirt and he unravelved in arm from John B to bring her into the hug. “Get in here, kook princess.” JJ teased through his tears. Pope and Kiara soon joined the group hug, comforting their friends through touch.
“What did Shoupe say?” JJ asked once they all pulled away, wiping at his tears.
“They said (Y/n)’s okay, a very obvious case of self defense, but they’re still going to ask her a couple questions once she’s of sound mind.” Pope answered and Kiara nodded.
“Thank God.” Sarah breathed out and JJ’s shoulders relaxed in relief, one less thing to worry about.
“Well why are we all just standing here?” John B asked after a couple moments of silence. “Let’s go see our girl.”
+
“I am still meeeeee you are still youuuuu” I couldn’t get that damn song out of my head while I was writing this
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takuyakistall · 3 years
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proposal | idia shroud
Note: Congrats to Idia for having an event SSR!
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The flickering flames inside the ballroom continued to burn bright as you stepped into the dancefloor. The deafening silence was broken when the orchestra started to play, filling the room with music as you stood perfectly still like a mannequin—as if you were waiting for something.
The glass roof did nothing but further illuminate the beauty within the ballroom—numerous intricate paintings hung on the wall, the detailed pattern of the dancefloor, and the hanging golden chandelier with candles that held flickering flames. Your dress was draped loosely over the floor, the length of the dress was perhaps too long for you.
Your train of thought was cut off abruptly when the orchestra stopped playing as you heard the grandeur doors being pushed open. You let out a deep breath before turning your face towards the door, trying to prepare yourself for anything that might happen. When you looked, you had to bite back your tongue in fear of ruining the atmosphere.
That fiery blue hair, those amber eyes—Idia Shroud. As he made his way in, the orchestra started playing right after. There was no one but the two of you standing on the dancefloor as he walked closer to you, you could tell that he dressed up especially for this occasion. That black suit and his styled hair, what could possibly push him to do something as flashy as this? When he invited you to the Shroud estate, finding yourself alone in a ballroom with him was the last thing you could ever think of.
"Shroud-san," Idia raised an eyebrow at your sudden politeness towards him as he took your hand and placed a chaste kiss on it. You could barely keep in your amusement. But he hasn't said anything upon entering and that was enough to set you off a little bit.
He placed a hand on his chest as he bowed towards you, as if he was asking for a dance—the poise in his movements flustering you since this was out of the ordinary, but it wasn't unwelcome. You smiled at him and did a small curtsy, taking his hand as you walked to the center of the room.
The two of you began to dance to the music, the closeness of your bodies was enough for you to make a few mistakes but your partner made sure to lead you well as he danced flawlessly—did he practice? The thought was cute to you. But soon, the music started to come to an end and both of you had to separate.
"Drop the act, what's with all of this? You're acting stranger than usual." You asked Idia, hoping that he would finally break character and quench your curiosity.
"Stranger than usual is a mean way to put it. After all the effort I went through…" Idia sighed.
"You look really dashing though… What's the occasion? You even learned how to waltz for this?"
"Man, you're awfully dense sometimes."
"Hah? I dare you to say that again."
Idia sucked in a breath before saying something: "Let's say… a man invited you to his house to meet his parents and even went as far as to arrange an outfit for you to wear when you go to his estate's ballroom where there was an orchestra on standby. And the man even bothered dressing up for once and learning how to dance to impress you just to ask one question—what do you think that question is?"
"If you pull out a ring right now I'm gonna punch you for real."
"Oh, it seems like you finally got it. GJ~"
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heartshyuck · 3 years
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Pairing: Jisung x fem!reader
Genre: fluff, angst,slow burn, strangers to lovers au, first love, early 1900s au.
Synopsis: Lavenders symbolise purity, silence, devotion, serenity and grace. All endearing characteristics of the gorgeous boy, you met in the fields of purple.
Placed in the late 1930s , just before World War two starts, you flee from your family who are forcing you into a marriage. You lie low in a small village where you meet Jisung in a field of lavenders.
Word count: 23k lmao
Warnings: female reader, misogyny and very backwards ways of thinking, forced marriages, world war two + historical inaccuracy for progression of the plot, drinking
a/n: this is the longest fic i have ever written and honestly it was a mission, it took about a month to write and I am genuinely so proud of it and really happy with it. Please don't be scared by the length but when I say slow burn, I really mean it!
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Your legs seem to be moving on their own, feet hitting the ground at a steady and fast pace, you don’t look back and can’t seem to see what lies ahead but still you run until your lungs burn, run until the bitter metallic taste is at the back of your throat where bile threatens to rise. You run until finally your legs collapse, knees hitting the ground, grazing them and it’s the slight sting of the sediment seeping into the cuts that stop you from passing out. You’re not sure how far you’ve ran or how long you’ve been running, you don’t know where you're running to but you have to escape. 
Escape the life they’ve laid out for you, the one they’ve planned without your input, you can’t live a life where everything is set out, where ’everything is expected and perfect. A life where you’d get married at 18 to a stranger who was of a worthy social class, attend formal lunches with the wives of your husband’s work colleagues and host dinner parties and occasionally large balls in a manor that always felt empty no matter how many paintings you bought to hang on the never ending amount of walls, no matter how many more bookshelves you tried to fit into one room, a place that you’ll always hate. Then to have children by 20, as many boys as possible of course to then not have any say in their upbringing and watch nurses tend to them, your husband educate them and then watch them get married, meet your grandchildren and when you’ve reached a respectable age, death will meet you in your sleep and you’ll be mourned and then forgotten. A life filled with regret, a constant numbness, no fulfilment and no meaning.
You saw your mum live that life, a smile that never quite reached her eyes, always plastered on at any given moment as she walked around the large hall with a glass of nothing but champagne in hand greeting the hundreds of guests that you were never able to comprehend how she managed to remember them all. She never spoke unless spoken to, never put in any input and always obeyed your father even when you could see the frustration bubble up inside her as her eyes glinted and her jaws tightened with the urge to say something.
She would buy gifts upon gifts and shower you in expensive luxuries, spoil you in riches as a form of love and yet it always held another meaning behind it. There was a slight sadness in her eyes as she passed a gift every birthday,christmas and any other reason she found, almost as if she was saying sorry for the life you were going to live and how she’d use these moments as blackmail for when that time came. You’d overhear her quiet sobs when you would sneak around the house late at night, read letters she received from someone you didn’t know and how they wished for her life to get better and for her to find happiness in a world where happiness didn’t exist. You saw your mother cry when your father died, eyes bloodshot red in fear rather than grief. Her life was now uncertain and that's when you decided that you couldn't live an empty life, regretting choices and wishing for death to come to you first.
Your father had always made sure that you would receive a proper education, one where you'd read hours upon hours of the finest English literature, works of science and learned of the past and present politics. He always said "a lady should know about the world around her but should never venture off on her own" you hated that phrase but it was better than what you overheard your friend's father saying to her when she asked for him to explain the concept of communism, "a women does not need to busy herself with politics, for your brain could not even begin to comprehend it" he announced with his nose high up in the air as if he had just said the most inquisitive statement known to man. It baffled you how one could even think that, let alone truly believe it enough to announce it so stupidly in the open, it was obvious that women were capable of understanding concepts like politics, maths and science for you were living proof.
You did better than your brother at grasping algebra, better at them with understanding Versalius's "De humani corporis fabrica" and it didn't take your friend long to understand Karl Marx's theory on communism once you explained it to her. It angered you that this was dismissed especially when your brother soon went off to universities for they had outgrown your father's enormous library and knowledge, there was no more he could teach them but there was still much to learn and you yearned to do the same but as you approached a suitable age for marriage, your everyday classes on Shakespearean English, Tudor monarchy, Greek mythology and Italian art had now been replaced with sewing, crochet, dining etiquette and the differences between napkins, white laced ones for formal lunches, gold embroidery for important dinners and regular silk for everyday use, you'd recite to your mother and the many maids who were on standby.
You've left that world now, left the bustling streets of industrialised London where a black smog always hung around the air and the smell of burnt rubber that stung your nose, you always hated both. Though you grew up in a large estate where there seemed to be a never ending amount of land on the outskirts of London, you never were allowed out to explore. Only allowed out with your mother to pick out fabrics in the markets, surrounded by military men that guarded the general's wife and daughter but now you were alone, no guards, no mother and no black smog to block your view of what lies ahead, only the sun and the ocean sky, clear of clouds as you breathe in fresh air that cleanses your lungs from the toxins that hang in the city air, surrounded by vibrant lavenders that arrive with a strong, sweet smell of pollen which you welcome to replace the bitter rubber your sense of smell only seems to know.
You close your eyes and bask in the warmth of late August , the sun gleaming down on you, rays striking against your skin with the wind between the strands of your hair, blowing the lavenders and they slightly tickle your arms. You’re not sure how long you were in your euphoric trance but you weren't ready to leave yet when the dark shadow was casted over you.
Your eyes lazily open and beauty lies ahead, the sun gleaming behind him, lights him on flames and he burns with a presence so strong you can see it as his aura swirls around you, engulfing you. His features,strong and yet his eyes are soft and even as he's turned away from the sun they sparkle infinitely as they hold the brightest stars, his stare pierces through you and it makes your gut clench as you feel small under his gaze but you don't turn away, daring him to continue staring down on you, well that's what you tell yourself as you can't help but get lost in the beauty of his eyes. His face wears a worried expression, his hand out forwards for you to take and place in his and it takes you a while to realise he's trying to help you up, even longer to comprehend the words that leave his mouth, as you just watch his cherry red lips move. You're dazed and for the first time you're not thinking straight, your legs won't move to carry you back up onto your feet but your hand instinctively moves towards him and your own mouth gapes open as it does, and again he repeats himself emphasising the words as his eyes widen further “are you feeling well?” you stare blankly at him, no response until you feel the burning sensation of his hand in yours. A heat that sends shocks through every nerve, it runs through your bloodstream lighting you on fire and as if you were burnt you pull back, shaking off the dizzy spell you rise to your feet, your body finally responding to your screaming brain. A sense of relief washes over you as the fear of losing your mind slowly seeps out as the haze in your mind clears, until your eyes meet his again. “Really y/n, not for a boy” you cry out in your head as your mind seems to be lost in awe looking at him.
You shuffle uncomfortably and it’s just now you realise how much of a mess you look as the embodiment of beauty’s eyes fall down. Your expensive dress torn up, what was once a full sangria and silver ball gown was now rags that wrapped around you with the bottom half missing as it stopped just above your knees, an uneven hem due to the rough ripping which took all of your strength, the white net underneath was visibly stained a brownish yellow, the cuts on your knee not being the only thing the dirt seeped into  but his eyes don’t even seem to stop there, they didn't even seem to notice, only meeting a piece of paper that lied on the floor. He reaches down for it, his eyebrows perk up slightly before handing it back to you.“You dropped this” he avoids eye contact, continuing to stare down, his hand abruptly extends out in front of him and he clears his throat, adding to the excruciating awkwardness between you and you wince at the sudden sound.
“Oh thank you..” you can hear your voice waver and crack and for the first time in your life, your voice isn’t confident, seems like a day full of firsts, your mother would’ve been proud if she saw you acting like this, like a lady she would have put it. Quiet, reserved but really it was just a suffocating stiffness that lingered in the air.
“Jisung” he completes your sentence, a small, shy smile appears on his face as his eyes look at everything but you, the letter still in his grasp he shakes his hand at you slightly urging you to take it. Your fingers brush past his ever so slightly as you take the letter back into your possession, a spark is sent through you and your fingers twitch, as if wanting more but you stop them from moving any further, your eyes slightly widen as you catch yourself falling so easily and if Jisung catches the weird expressions on your face, he chooses to ignore them not saying anything. “You are not from around here, are you?” His voice is light and airy as he speaks softly, as if you were made of glass and any harsh tone could break you, you can’t tell if it’s because of the immense awkwardness or because of the pity he must feel seeing you in such a state. You hope it’s the former and decide that’s what it is, when he starts playing with the edges of his white shirt.
“No I live in London” the words die as soon as they leave your mouth, you used to live in London, you don’t anymore. This only adds to Jisung’s awkwardness and it reminds you no matter how beautiful he is, he’s only just a boy who’s probably around your age. So you smile at him, letting out a small breathy laugh in hopes of lightening the mood, it works as he visibly unstiffens. “Used to” Jisung doesn’t press on the matter any further, doesn’t ask anymore questions, just nods. The unsettling atmosphere sets in once again and your incapability of standing in silence for more than a second, you clear your throat "do you know where this address is?" your tone light and airy, you sound almost clueless and it’s now you realise the true meaning behind every etiquette class, the role of the women is the domestic war, the war on power. For one to rise they must make powerful allies and that’s what this voice is for, to obtain the power of a man and trick them into helping you; so you're glad when Jisung takes the letter back into his grasp and examines the writing at the front, it’s worked.
“I’ll show you the way” and you nod with a slight smile as a thank you, Jisung leads the way and you follow soon behind, with his face no longer in my sight you can finally observe the rest of him. Judging by his height and build, seems like he comes from a well off family. Though there wasn’t a day you felt hungry, you weren’t blind to the outside world no matter how hard your parents tried to shelter you from it. The world is living off rations but the wealthy still have access to more, Jisung must have some sought of status or most likely works for a household with high status considering it seemed like he was running errands, why else would he be in a field full of lavenders and it’s only reinforced by the fine silk that flows as wind rushes past you. Somewhat similar to the material that makes up your gown, or what’s left of it, it’s an expensive material imported from colonies in the empire. He walks with no flaw and so you guess he didn’t serve in the war, meaning he has to be around your age; this new life is exciting and scary, you’re not sure what you want yet but you certainly wouldn’t mind if the boy in the lavender field stuck around for a while.
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Jisung’s steps slowed and soon came to a stop outside a large estate, it was nowhere near as big as your parent's manor but comparing it to the small petite houses in the village you could just about see; it definitely was the biggest house in the village. You turned to thank Jisung, mouth slightly opened as the words were prepared to leave until you saw him pull out a key and a heat rose up your neck onto your face, in both slight embarrassment and excitement as you realised that Jisung must live here and your mouth couldn’t help but confirm your thoughts, “do you live here?” you blurted quickly with a slight lift in your tone, which you hope wasn’t too obvious in exposing your excitement.
His eyebrows rise, a small smile appears but he doesn’t answer your question, continuing to unlock the doors and allows you to step in first, a women who barely makes it past Jisung’s shoulders calls out to him, embracing him as she tightly wraps her arms around his waist, Jisung leans back slightly as a way of hoping to loosen her grip as his face scrunches up in pain as the struggle to breath sets in but there’s a constant smile on his face right until he peels her off. It’s then she punches him in the stomach, making him crouch down below her, holding onto his stomach.
“How many breaths must I waste in having to tell you to make sure you fulfill all your duties before you head to the fields'' she nags him and a smile is brought to your face at the violent display of affection, you guess he must be a part of the service team that works for the master of this house, which was exceptionally beautiful in the inside; much bigger than what it lets off from the outside, your eyes can’t help but linger elsewhere and observe the hidden beauty in all the small intricate designs. “Young master” the lady continues to punish him for his action and you head whips around at her words, she hasn’t even noticed you but Jisung’s eyes are constantly on you watching your expressions change as more as more information is being released to you, a smile appears on his face and at first it seems like a smirk but soon you notice the constant pink dust across his cheeks and you realise he’s embarrassed. There’s a strange feeling in your chest, a warmth that spreads and has you clutching your fists as you think at how adorable he is, your eyebrows furrow and you shake both the thoughts and the smile off.
Finally after what seems like hours of you staring at Jisung but in reality was no longer than a few seconds, the petite woman turns to you and acknowledges your presence,  her eyes widen in surprise and she rushes to your side. “Oh lord, my dear child are you okay?” she grabs your hands and ushers you down the hall into a secluded room that takes up a big portion of the ground floor of the house.
The kitchen, filled with plenty of workers,busy hands and food; she shouts at a maid to move a few things around and to make some space for you around the small table that holds vegetables and freshly cut meat. There’s the smell of spices that are definitely too exotic to be from these lands, parcels with German writing and several people cooking dishes you don’t recognise.
You're pushed down onto a small wooden chair that slightly rocks and it is by far the most uncomfortable place you’ve ever sat but you don’t dare complain even after the minutes pass and your legs begin to ache. The maids ran around you and even as you left that world behind, you still somehow ended up in the same position and then you realise it’s the fine silk you wear that sets you apart, the rows and rows of pearls around your neck and rings on your fingers. They don’t ask any questions, just wiping away at the dirt on your legs; the same women at the door pouring a type of alcohol over your cuts and it stings drawing out a hiss from you, “sorry” she whispers and blows slightly on the irritated skin. The kitchen quiets down and the other maids exit, leaving you and the same women who scolded Jisung, she didn’t bother to ask him any questions and quickly sent him away to carry on with the work he didn’t finish, she doesn’t ask you any questions either for it’s not her place to ask. 
She wraps bandages around your knees and your eyes wander around, landing on a picture of her with three little boys, you recognise the smallest to be Jisung, she catches your eyes and smiles “the masters, when they were little devils” she remarks making you and her both let out small laughs, “though they aren't much better now” she smiles fondly as she continues to wrap the bandages, you see love in her eyes and can tell that she raised them.
“The smallest is Jisung, am I correct?” you ask just to confirm your assumption, she nods and smiles, “i can tell by his awkwardness, it’s radiant even in pictures” you scoff and she laughs. "Who are the other two?" Your curiosity seemingly has no end.
"The tallest is master Jeno and the one in the middle is master Jaemin" she says as she cuts the bandage. You take note of their names and match it to their appearances though you assume they've probably changed quite a bit. The tallest, Jeno has crescent moons for eyes as his smile pushes them up, it's adorable. The middle, Jaemin also has a bright smile, probably the prettiest you’ve ever seen but Jisung still stands out the most to you, maybe it’s because you’ve seen how he looks now; the change is definitely visible, he’s grown much taller and into his sharp features. He's definitely handsome, epitome of beauty but by the way he timidly walks you’re not quite sure he knows it.
“Will these do, ma’am?” her hands hold onto a set of clean clothes and you only nod at her as you take the clothes from her hands, calloused and rough from years of labour. "Please just call me y/n" you tell her trying to remove your status and she only nods in return. "And what may I call you" you ask her.
"Daphne" she replies and you notice that she smiles at you, a full smile nothing quite like you've seen before and you'd like to think this what a smile should look like. Genuine. Instead of all the small smiles you recieved, the ones with hidden agendas and meanings, the ones because of who your father was, the one because of your status, name, title, money and a persuasion for your hand in marriage. So many smiles yet none truly considered one. God you hated that life.
"Now y/n let me show you to a room" she leads you out the room and you follow her upstairs, all the maids rushing back into the kitchen after you have left. She turns left and right and you find that the upstairs is far more complicated to navigate, with many different rooms. When she finally reaches a long corridor, she stops to point at the room that awaits at the end. "That will be your room ma'am" and before she even could finish her sentence properly, "y/n" you correct her and she only nods, giving you a soft smile as an apology."Please call for me if anything isn't to your liking" she says and just as she's about to step away, ready to leave you to get comfortable.
You call her back, "Daphne, can you please tell me who this is" you lift up the small blue letter that leads you here to this address, to finally put a name to the mysterious woman who only seemed to want the best for you and your mother. She takes the small letter from your grasp, examining the small font that's slowly fading due to the number of years it's collected dust. Her eyes widen as she reads the letter, her head snapping up to look at you, her lips parting slightly as if her jaw threatened to drop.
"My god" she says as she continues to read, shock written all over her face, "this is from the master's mother, dear" she tells you and you join her in shock as your jaw hangs a lot more obviously in shock. "She worked for your family when she was young" she continues to tell you and the ripples of shock continue to pulse through your body. Your mother and her are good friends from what you've gathered, reading all the letters you found. Yet your mother never even allowed you to mix classes, always telling you to stick with your own people, people who can pay for your time, literally. Yet here she was being friends with a woman considered below her, even considering sending you away to her. The hypocrisy is what shocked you the most, for you didn't think your mother could build relationships if it weren't for a social advantage.
"Can I meet her?" you ask, excited until you see sadness seep into her eyes, she looks down and she shuffles slightly. Her eyes glossy with tears threatening to fall and your own shoulders droop down and a frown is formed on your lips. "I'm sorry" you apologise but she shakes her head and wipes her eyes slightly.
"Don't be silly, you didn't know and it's better you found out through me anyways." She tells you and you're glad that you found out through her too, you don't think you would've been able to handle it coming from Jisung. "If you do not mind me, but when did she pass" you ask carefully as to not break her.
"Last May" she tells you and you hear sadness in her voice , as it slightly cracks and you release a deep sigh as to rid your body from the contagious mood. With that she hands the letter back into your hand and leaves you to wash up, "Dinner will be ready soon, please wash up" she urges you to go into the room.
You walk down the corridor, steps heavy as your heart grieves for Jisung and as you're reminded of your own father's death, though he planned on marrying you to a stranger you didn't love and never truly wanting you to live happily. You loved and still love him with every ounce of your being, all making grief an impossibly hard process. For your heart hurt and your mind could not comprehend why.  Your eyes stung with tears and your hands trembling with pain and still the mind was questioning why you felt sad. Then the guilt blooms, hovering above you, for this man raised you and cared for you and yet you question your grief as you sit by his deathbed. Yet you remind yourself that questioning your grief is better than not feeling any at all, you remember looking over towards your mother who wore black and instead of grieving her husband's death, she felt grief for her widow status that crushed her social status, for who was she without her husband.
So as you remove the many pearls and diamonds around your neck, gifted to you by your mother, you’re reminded why you left that life behind. You won’t be defined by your husband but by what you have achieved and for who you are. Yet you leave on the thin golden chain with a single pendant on your neck, as a reminder for where to come from and how far you’ve travelled. It was a gift from both your mother and father, the one gift you like to think wasn’t used as a symbol of your wealth to attract men in asking for your hand in marriage, the simplicity of this necklace led you to believe that this was a genuine gift of their love.
Changing out of your ball gown or the remainders of it, you feel anew. Stripping out of your old skin and into much comfortable and humble ones, you feel as if your new life is finally starting and though it’s far from what anyone would have wanted for your life to be like, it’s what you want. You’ve been here for just under an hour and instantly you're on cloud nine, floating to where only the sun is. The rays dancing on your skin and euphoria runs within your veins, this is life.  
You’re not sure how long you’ve been in a daze but soft knocks on the door is what awakens you and you're quick to open the door, not wanting to leave the person on the other side waiting but you’re met with a fist, that seems as if it malfunctions as it goes down by the side of the same person who seems to waking you out of all your dazes recently. Jisung stands there awkwardly, legs crossed and hands behind his back, he stutters as he says “dinner is...um.. It is awaiting” and with that he cuts himself off, rushing the words out of his mouth and quickly turns around, rushing downstairs.
You can only smile at him, how was someone allowed to be that cute. Following soon after him you enter into the dinning room, the smile on your face completely wiped off by the shock of two other men sitting around the table. Your back straightens as your body stiffens, by habit, you’ve been taught to look most confident when caught off guard.
“Sit here y/n” Daphne takes out the seat opposite of Jisung and next to a man you don’t know until he smiles your way, you recognise that smile and it’s still as pretty as it looks in the picture hanging in the kitchen. You smile back at him as you make your way by his side and take your seat.
“Hello, I’m Jaemin” he turns to you, dropping his fork and it clatters as it hits the plate, a beautiful smile across his face and you finding it comforting to think it hasn’t changed at all. He then lifts your hand to his lips, placing them softly on your knuckles all whilst keeping that damn smile held across his lips and staring straight into your soul, heat rises up your body slightly thrown back and he can see the shock in your eyes . Your well crafted facade cracking. His eyes are still boring into yours and you can’t move, stuck looking into his eyes, hands stuck to his until a kick. Coming from across the table, a force hits Jaemin’s shin causing him to yelp, instantly turning away from you and dropping your hand, you notice a small smile on Jisung’s face as he tries to conceal his laughter. You turn to look at where such a force came from, fierce strong features and an intimidating stare yet when he turns to you crescent moons appear, his aura changing immediately and the child in the portrait comes to life. “I’m Jeno” his voice is soft yet clear and all you can do is smile back before replying simply your name “Y/N” you tell him and he nods your way. 
Thinking that silence would now set in was foolish of you, for you should’ve guessed Jaemin isn’t the type to let there be silence and looking back now you could definitely tell he was itching to ask you so many questions. “I guess you have already met Jisung” he turns to you again and you only nod, looking up at the tall boy in front of you but he only stares at the soup in front of him but you know he senses your gaze as he twitches slightly in his seat, holding himself back from looking up and directly into your eyes. “He is not usually this quiet, he will warm up to you soon” Jaemin apologises on behalf of Jisung yet he grimaces at the words that leave Jaemin’s mouth but you smile at Jaemin ignoring Jisung’s expression.
The rest of dinner is filled with small talk between you and Jaemin, him asking you your favourite colour and trivial things like that, you discussed different authors and scriptors to which Jeno also chimed in on the conversation, both very impressed on your knowledge though you aren’t sure if they were impressed because you were a woman or genuinely impressed by the vast knowledge you had accumulated over the years spent in your father’s library however you brushed that thought aside, carrying on with the conversation, eyes drifting to Jisung at times who just sat there playing around with spoon, twisting it between his fingers instead of daring to look at you let alone to add to the conversation. Finally as Daphne takes away the plates, Jeno stands up dismissing himself from the table, “It was a pleasure to meet you Y/N, I hope you stay a while it was fun having you” he tells you with those same moons for eyes and you thank him for his hospitality “It was a great pleasure to meet you too, thank you for allowing me to stay” you say them at Jeno and Jaemin but they’re mainly directed to Jisung who brought you here.
“If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to tell me” Jaemin smiles, a hand on your shoulder as he stands next to where you sit and you only nod at him, he then comes to your ear, lips so close you feel them brush against the shell “Jisung will come around, I’m sorry if he’s making you feel uncomfortable” he apologises on his behalf for the second time that night and you wave him off with a smile. You could already tell that Jisung is shy and awkward but it’s not confused for hate or resentment, he simply doesn’t know how to act around a female and it’s clear the way he trips over his words and his very own legs but to be fair they are very long.
After everyone left the table and made their ways to their own rooms, you too made your way to bed. Laying there you think back to how far you’ve come, a few months ago this all would have been nothing but a dream and now it’s a reality and the euphoric feeling you imagine is everything and more. Freedom is worth anything is what you’ve learnt, the freedom to live your life the way you want. To be in control of all your decisions, living with the consequences but not a single shred of regret because you chose it and therefore it must have been for a reason. It’s new and exciting but so scary as the colony of butterflies bloom in your stomach, all the possibilities panning out in your head and for some reason as you drift off to sleep that night, you see Jisung in this future of yours.
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The sun shined in through the sheer curtains of your room, sunlight dancing on your skin and the warmth made you feel alive as it tingled. The house was quiet and as you look out the window you realise that even the Sun has still yet to wake fully, still sleepy rising out of the horizon. The birds chirp and the lavender fields roar as the wind dances but there in the middle of it all is a figure. Jisung. Your eyes light up and your legs are quick to move, still in your nightgown, hair in a mess you rush to meet him there. The stairs creak as you step down them slowly, as if a child trying not to get caught, you try your best not to wake a soul.
Once out the door you run out towards the purple sea, the cold morning air refreshing to the midday humidity that sticks your clothes to your skin, instead the wind blows through you and you feel free as all boundaries and confinements are washed away but then it hits you, causing your legs to halt. Jisung barely knows you, how weird it would be for you to run up to him at the break of dawn? Very weird you decide as you slowly make your way back to the house, hoping to not make any noise that might draw his attention your way.
Stepping back inside, your back against the heavy wooden door you let out a deep sigh as your eyes fall closed in relief. Thank god he didn't see you, you think to yourself as you just stepped into the living room and your heart dropped down to your stomach, lungs stopping as you see him there. Jisung flicking through a book, his eyes come up to meet yours which are blown out in shock as you stare between him and looking back at the door, his lips fold into a line and you practically see the questions forming in his mind as he scratches the top of his head.
“Good Morning” you say with a smile but the embarrassment isn’t covered well, eyes everywhere but his. He softly replies with a mumble you’re unsure if he actually said anything back or if you just made it up but as your eyes land on the book in his hand and all thoughts are banished. You rush round the table, Jisung’s eyes wide now as it’s his turn to be shocked as you sit down beside him, taking the book out of his hand to have a look at the title. “Ah a classic” you say as your fingers run over the title and Jisung only nods at your words. “Is it your favorite Shakespearean play?” you ask in hopes of starting up conversation, all you get in return is nod of the head but that does nothing but urge you to talk again to fill the silence. “I like Hamlet but i think Macbeth is my favourite. The best character being Lady Macbeth, a strong ambitious women” you state and Jisung only laughs at this causing you to turn back to him.
“She had lost her mind” he laughs again and you smile
“Yes but as a woman she exerts power and it’s not really seen much in female characters in stories and real life” you tell him, explaining how a woman like her is admirable for her strong spirit.
“Yes but doesn’t Shakespear describe her to have a masculine soul that within a femine body, he is saying the ambition and power are masculine and therefore is she really a good embodiment for strong powerful females?” he argues back, questioning you and you can’t help but smile.
“But he uses her and the witches to plant the idea of murder in Macbeth’s head, he shows that they are powerful and can achieve what they want through manipulation which he explains to be a women’s method, they are in control of the men and it shows that if it weren’t for social confinments that they would pursue their ambitions for themselves, is Macbeth really the one in control?” you question him back and he smiles
“You win” he laughs and pride is struck through you, there’s no feeling quite similar to winning a debate but there's sadness at the bottom of your gut as you remember and miss your brothers who you would debate with until frustrations would burst out of you all and it leads to punches being thrown around.
“Let me guess, you hate Romeo and Juliet” he expects you to say yes and you know it’s because he probably thinks their love for each other is shallow but you can’t say you do.
“I don’t actually, aside from the whole love at first sight, I somewhat relate to it” you tell him eyes staring at him but unfocused as you think back to how your own life was in comparison to Juliet’s, “the being forced into something you don’t want and dying for your freedom, in this case her freedom was Romeo but i don’t think he was the only reason she chose to flee, I’d like to think ran away for herself and to allow herself her own choices in life” and then silence as Jisung took in your words, a perspective he had never really thought about, the story was always solely based on romance but then again he had never been put in the position of being forced into something so life changing such as marriage. Jisung couldn’t begin to comprehend how it felt to be used so obviously for social gain and being stripped and deprived of anything else that would hinder that.
 Sensing stiffness in the air, you had to do something about it, you finally got Jisung to actually have a conversation with you. “Still Macbeth is the best” and again you manage to get a laugh out of him. The sound is so sweet that angels come down to listen to it, the heavens split open at the first bubble of laughter that leaves his mouth and your eyes light up as your body tingles with pride for causing it, you’re addicted to it and you're itching to hear it again. You need to hear it again.
The moment is cut off though with the entrance of Jaemin and Jisung’s eyes avert to his brother greeting him a good morning as quietly as he did to you and Jaemin sleepy replies in a yawn, rubbing his eye  before sitting down opposite you. “Morning y/n” he greets you and you smile before greeting him back, turning back to Jisung to hopefully start up the conversation again. “So what else are you reading?” you ask and your eyes light up as you scan over the many books on the table before you.
“Oh y/n, you know how to read!” Jaemin jumps up, it wasn’t expected for someone to be literate to the extent they could read Shakespeare or any higher educational scriptures, unless of a high class, let alone a women but your father taught you all he could and then you leached off your brothers who were lucky enough to be sent to school but Jaemin had already been aware of this “Yes my father taught me” you tell him and he nods rapidly.
“Yes I know, I just thought you’d like to know that there’s a library upstairs if you ever get bored and want to read something” he tells you and excitement bubbles up inside you and the instinct to run up there and have a look at their book collection is something far harder to conceal then it should be and Jaemin laughs at your eagerness. “Jisung could use someone like you, he’s always trying to get away from his studies” and you hear Jisung let out a nervous laugh as you turn towards him, completely offended.
“You have the privilege of being able to study and you want to run away from it” you gasp and it causes Jaemin to laugh again but this wasn’t a laughing matter, you were completely serious. You would die to be in his position and something about the way Jisung holds an apologetic look makes you think he knows you would.
“I guess you’ll just have to be with him to help him study” Jaemin offers a solution and your eyes light up at this, the excitement running through your veins. You all know exactly what that means, yes it’s babysitting Jisung to make sure he gets all his work done but it also means you get to study whatever he’s learning and expand your knowledge as far as you can. Jisung seemed hesitant at first but after seeing how you visibly lit up at the suggestion he couldn’t help but agree to take you along with him when he had to study.
After breakfast Jisung led you up to the library, it was a large room filled from ceiling to floor with books, the sight alone made you dizzy with excitement, as you stepped in the beloved smell of old books filled your senses and your hands instantly rushed to run along the spines of every book. Your eyes sparkled as you looked over each one and Jisung watched as fascination completely engulfed you, he couldn’t stop watching as you pick out a book, couldn’t take his eyes off you as your eyes skimmed the blurb, he was mesmerized by what he wasn’t too sure of. His eyes didn’t seem to be able to move on from your figure until you turned to face him, time stood still as he watched more and more of the bright smile that was held across your face be revealed to him, you were beautiful. Once met with yours, his eyes scrambled away as they always do and he was quick to turn around and seat himself at the desk that sat in the centre of the room.
You too situated yourself on one of the more comfortable chairs, opposite to Jisung, you watched him begin to write, his head slanted and both arms splayed out on the table, he was the height of beauty and grace, the gods carved him from marble, so ethereal Aphrodite herself was jealous of his perfection, Apollo envied his grace. Though you were here to study, read as many books time allowed you, your eyes were distracted and little did you know they were distracting Jisung as well. Your gaze causes his breath to halt, his hands to sweat and pink dust to decorate his skin. You were dazed, stuck in a trace of his beauty and had to do something to get out of it, you clenched your hand; nails digging into your palms, pressing hard to wake you. You forced your head to the side, eyes looking at the bookshelf once again but your actions caused Jisung to look up, you can feel his stare on you and a shiver is sent through your spine, too scared to look back at him, afraid you’ll be pulled back into his trance.
“You have a lot of German books” you say, hoping your nervousness isn’t obvious and just to be sure you get up and head towards the books. You feel him staring at every step you take and you just pray you're the only one that can hear the loud thumping of your heart against your ribcage as a colony of butterflies bloom in your stomach. Fingers tracing over the German writing on the spine of each book, you try to distract yourself from him and try to compose yourself once again but then his voice echoes through the room, deep and smooth it sends shivers rippling through you.
“My father was stationed in Germany” he tells you as his eyes finally move away from your figure, a sense of relief washes over you as he continues to write once again. Yet you're still too nervous to turn around, too nervous to look at him, he who is the epitome of beauty.
“Still?” you ask, filling in the silence as you pull out another book, examining the words on the front cover but you instantly regret it as Jisung’s eyes fall back onto you.
“After the war he was assigned a higher position in the Rhineland and then after they were dismissed he was asked to stay along the French borders'' he tells you and once again your curiosity gets the best of you and you ask him another question. If you remember correctly, it’s been 10 years since the dismissal of the troops in the Rhineland.
“So when was the last time you saw him?” and instantly you regret the words that leave your mouth, your curse yourself a million times over. Jisung’s silence is all too overwhelming and your chest grows tighter as guilt takes over your body and just as you’re about to apologise, he answers
“He visited last year” Jisung simply states but you can hear the strain in his voice, the pain he’s tried his best to cover yet it seeps through and your glad you can’t see him right now because you couldn’t bare to see the sparkle in his eyes fade slightly as you remember the passing of his mother, that most probably led to his father returning back home. Silence settles again and your frozen by the shelves, the air so heavy it feels as if weights were holding you down, your mind hazy as you space out and as the common pattern goes, Jisung wakes you out of the depths of your mind with a voice as smooth as honey, it provides a comfort that sends shivers down your spine.  “He’ll be back soon though, he’s officially been discharged for retirement” he tells you as if he can feel your stiffness and out of the corner of your eye you see he’s giving you a small comforting smile, just to make the air seem a little lighter.
Time seems to fly past as you both sit there, Jisung’s hands busy writing away as he refers back to scriptures and your eyes busy as you read up on German politics and the structure of the Weimar constitution, that revolutionised democracy, the sun was now high in the sky as noon approached. You didn’t even notice until Jisung let out a loud yawn, arms above his head as he stretched and let out mumbles of how you should stop for today or at least take a break. You only nodded in response as you stretched your own limbs out, you had ended up curled up in the chair with your legs tucked away as you leaned into what you were reading. Jisung couldn't help but smile as he looked up occasionally to see your eyebrows furrowed as you read and he can't help the soft laugh from escaping his lips now as he watches you stretch. "And what is it that you find so funny?" You question him, eyes narrowed but your lips are clearly fighting back a smile and the sight of it flusters Jisung, stammering over his words ``N-Nothing" he answers and you let out a small smile to let him know you were only kidding.
As you both leave the room, you can't help but follow Jisung "and what is it you do after you are done studying?" Your question startled him as he visibly flinched at the sound of your voice and he mentally tells himself to get used to your unquenchable curiosity. "Except for picking lavenders" you tease. He lets out a soft laugh, the same sound you've been itching to hear since this morning.
"Nothing much" he tells as he makes his way down the stairs. Following him down, he makes his way towards the drawing room, sitting himself down in an old velvet chair, you place yourself beside him in a matching one. Your eyes peering over towards his hands that pull at needle and thread and you’re astounded by the sight in front of you, a male who knows how to sew is as rare as diamonds, as impressive as gold. Jisung continuously stuns you, his nimble fingers work diligently as they pull the thread to make patterns across the once plain cloth.
He can feel the burn of your stare on his hands, his chest tightens and his nerves are lit on fire, he is hyper aware of every wander of your eyes. His mind clouded by the mere thought of you watching him, his mind so fixated on impressing you, for a reason he’s not sure of, he doesn’t pay much attention to the needle any longer; a mistake he realises once the sharp point collides with the soft skin of his index, drawing blood. He flinches back away from the sharp contact as you leap forward to cup his hand in both of yours. Pressing your thumb against his finger, applying pressure in hopes of stopping the seeping blood, you slightly blow upon it to relieve it of any pain but Jisung can’t feel any pain not when your overwhelming heat rolls of you and radiates on to his skin, with every touch sparks fly on top of his skin fizzling underneath and seeping into his bloodstream. A fluttering blooms in his stomach and Jisung has no idea what this feeling is, it’s new and exciting. He craves it as his eyes drift to your worried face and once your eyes meet his, the emotion is buried by the overwhelming nervousness he feels engulfing him, his cheeks flush and his breath is caught in his throat. He pulls away from you and quickly stands “I’ll” he pauses thinking what to say next “I’ll get a bandage” he spits the words out as soon as his mind comes up with the excuse.
“I’ll get it, sit down” you stand up and ready to head towards any one of the maids that could help you but your steps are interrupted by Jisung’s voice once again.
“No it’s fine, I’ll get it” he blurts out, hand stopping you as he places in front of you, your head moving back on reflex, and with that Jisung runs out the room; feet moving fast as his left hand tightly wraps around his right index.
You sit there for what felt like forever waiting for Jisung’s return but in reality it was no more than 10 minutes, you were never one to hold patience. So you rose to your feet, eager to find the tall boy that let awkwardness roll off of him. Heading to the direction you saw Jisung turn, you make your way to the familiar kitchen, many busy bodies work their way around preparing for dinner as the clock is nearing sun fall. Your eyes wander the familiar walls with the same pictures you stared at upon the first day of your arrival, until they stopped on the figure they seeked. There he stood by the wooden table that just about reached his waist. He poured flour into a bowl, followed by two eggs and your eyes watched his every moment again and as if he could sense you, his rose to meet you once again. You smile because it just comes so naturally when with him and he smiles back, how could he not?
Inviting yourself in, you step closer towards Jisung, “A cook too” you say, you’re impressed and it’s evident in your voice.
“It’s a basic necessity” he says yet there’s a pink coating that dusts his cheeks, you know he’s flattered by your words despite his own.
“Basic necessity?” you question as you sit down, legs crossed, on an empty wooden chair just by where he stands “I guess I should learn” you state nonchalantly, not expecting the reaction it would provoke from Jisung. His head snaps to turn to you, his eyes searching your face for any indication that you were only pulling his leg, that this was only a joke but those indications never showed because this wasn't a joke, you were serious.
“What? Does a girl have to know how to cook?” you question him in a scoff, an eyebrow raised as you question his thoughts that control his expressions.
“No they don’t but I can be surprised, I know you are surprised I can” he rebuttals, calling out your hypocrisy but to this you only smile, you were glad Jisung could stand his own ground, it wouldn’t be fun otherwise.
“More impressed than surprised” you state, earning a smile from Jisung once again, you pat yourself on the back each time you manage to pull out that sweet, healing smile that seems to wash all worries away.
“Who’s to say I’m not impressed” he questions you once again and continues to mix the batter, adding more ingredients, again you smile at his words and Jisung feels his heart flutter at every stretch of your lips. He craves to see it more.
“Can you teach me?” your question catches him off guard and his eyebrows leap up into the soft brown hair that covers his forehead, “what I’m not totally hopeless, I’ve read a book on it before” you pout. Laughter rings through the air as Jisung has doubled over, unable to hold in the snorts and his breathing unsteadies as your words register in his head and this only makes your pout more prominent and your eyebrows knit together.
“I’m sorry” Jisung laughs out as his eyes fall onto your expression but he can’t hold it in, a few bubbles of laughter spilling out as he tries to calm his breaths, his eyes glossy as tears threaten to fall and you try to fight back your own laughter as the corners of your lips slightly perk up. “Did you say you read a book on cooking” he can’t even get through the sentence without laughing but he’s quick to reign it back in to allow you to answer.
“Yes” you say proudly, head still held high and Jisung bites down on his lips as the splutters of laughter threaten to escape again. “It’s obviously not the same thing but I’ve read basic methods” you state in defence.
“You make it sound like science” he scoffs at your words and you roll your eyes at his.
“Is it not, the mixing of substances to achieve a product. It sounds like alchemy to me” you explain your thought process and Jisung nods in agreement. Though you can tell he has something to say.
“Alright then, let us say cooking is science” he begins and you raise your eyebrow in questioning as to where this is leading “reading a method for an experiment is not the same as doing the experiment, there are things that are not accounted for, practical errors, measuring errors. The method tells you what to do but not how to do it” and before he can even finish his sentence properly you jump up, startling him slightly as he flinches back.
“And that is where you come in to teach me, guide me through the experiment” you plead but it sounds like he doesn’t really have an option, you’re practically telling him. He sighs but he has to give, how could he not when you're giving him your sweetest smile and when your eyes are practically begging him.
“I’m surprised you want to learn” he questions you “I thought you’d avoid anything that would have been forced upon you” he explains as he hands you an apron.
Your smile extends ear to ear as you take the apron from his hands, tying in behind your back you explain your sudden want to learn “Yes but I’m choosing to learn, this isn’t about adding another quality of a wife to my resume. This about extending my knowledge and as you said it is a basic necessity.”
Jisung only nods at your answer as he hands you another bowl, some ingredients already placed inside “follow after me” he says as he cracks an egg and pours it’s insides into the bowl and then turning to you he see you struggle, knocking the egg against the table softly you try and mimic his actions “Did the book not mention eggs?” he laughs and so does Daphne who observes close by as you send him glares that wish him death.
“Like this” he says as he places his hands over yours, guiding you but your eyes aren’t focused on the egg in your hold, you’re focused on Jisung who’s so close, too close. You feel his breath on the side of your neck and goosebumps arise on the surface of your skin as shivers are sent down your spine. The scent of cotton, jasmine and of course lavenders invade your senses and blur your mind. You can’t help but stare at Jisung, perfection personified as he concentrates on explaining how to assure no shell falls into the batter. Yet the words enter one ear and exit the other as you watch his lips move, your eyes stuck and it’s only when his eyes move up to meet yours does he also realise the little space between the two of you. His hands still holding onto yours, his eyes move down. Slowly they trace the features of your face, the bridge of your nose, the dip of your cupid’s bow and then they stop at your lips. His breathing halts, his heart skips beats as it dances in his chest and when he feels unbearable heat take over him he forces himself away from you. Quickly flinching back, his warmth leaves you, he clears his throat and turns from your gaze that still stares, he continues showing you what to do and no more words are exchanged as the heaviness in the air sets in.
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Many weeks go by where you and Jisung spend all your mornings in the library, which had now become your favourite spot in the house, you look forward to picking up a new book every morning, look forward to watching Jisung so focused on his work, telling him all about what you’ve learnt and occasionally sparking up a debate but you also find yourself staring out the window wishing for the sun to only raise itself higher and higher as you wish for midday to arrive, to run away with Jisung down into the kitchen where he continues to teach you how to cook, some days he would take you into town to pick out fresh ingredients or some days into the drawing room where he attempts to teach you how to sow. After a few failed attempts, your patience wearing thin and much blood being drawn from your fingers, you give up on sewing however cooking is a much greater achievement and the outcome was worth every bit of it. The smile on Jisung’s face every time he’d taste something he’d liked, every time you remember a part of a recipe and every time he would sit down at the dinner table and Jeno or Jaemin would compliment your cooking. He felt immense pride in you and it fostered a love for cooking within you.
Other days when the weather prohibited it, Jisung would take you out into the lavender field. You’d sit in between the rows and rows of purple, picking at the prettiest ones.The sun high in the sky, august warmth embracing you as the wind blew over the roaring fields, dancing between your hair. “Look I learnt this from a book” you sit beside Jisung, his head snaps up and his attention is on your fingers now as they twirl the thin stems in and around each other to form a knot. “Purity, silence, devotion and grace are what a lavender symbolise” you begin to tell him “and you Jisung” you place the intertwined lavenders behind his ear, he’s visibly flustered as his cheeks turn hues of pink and it only urges you on “are exactly that” you whisper to him as if the lavenders had ears and could hear your confession, for these words are for Jisung’s only.
Jisung’s eyes widened as each word that was revealed to him, his heart thumping in his chest and his mind set on fire as chaos engulfed him. His thoughts scrambled and instantly his mind went to countless different possibilities as to what those words meant but looking up at you his mind cleared for he only saw beauty. The beauty your eyes held, as they sparkled infinitely each time they skimmed over the countless words on a book, the beauty your smile held when someone complimented your new found cooking skills, the beauty in your voice each time you called on him as the new found nickname “sungie” which caused his heart to melt, the beauty you held in the way you carried yourself never letting anyone put you down. Jisung adored you in every way, embers in his chest that grew into a flame, which spreads through his entirety burning all. A blissful pain sits at the core of him, aching, he longs for you but do you long for him? Is he but a fool to fall in love with a stranger, the stranger in the lavender fields. Is he a fool for falling in love with you? Is this even love? His eyes fixated on your lips, he examines the curve of them, the colour, their beauty. As if they were magnets he’s drawn to them, slowly inching himself forward, so close he could feel the warm air that made it past them.
So close and yet so far is he to you, the sweet smell of lavenders is dizzying, the sunlight burns your skin but against Jisung’s it only illuminates his, he glows. The urge to place your lips on top of his, eats away at your skin, the want crawls under and down your spine, shivers resonate throughout your body as he nears. The world falls away, the slight buzzing of bees fade, the tickles of the grass dissipate and you only feel Jisung. His presence, the brush of his knee against yours and the warmth that radiates off him. Your heart stops, you stop breathing, anticipating what’s about to happen next until suddenly Jisung’s head snaps to the right and reality comes flooding in as you hear both your names ringing and ripping through the air. “Jisung! Y/N!” Daphne shouts and Jisung jumps up answering for both of you “We’re coming!” Left completely stunned you sit there, mind in chaos as your embarrassment engulfs you. Your eyebrows furrowed, you think to yourself how you could allow for yourself to fall into his spell. What were you thinking? That’s the problem, around Jisung you can’t think, everything happens on pure instinct and desire. Then as if you had rewinded time, a shadow is casted over you, a hand is placed in front of you to take and as he did on that first day, he snaps you out of your daze. “Are you feeling well?” he asks in that same soft voice. Your hand twitches to move towards him and it takes everything in your power to stop it from falling into his grasp once again.
“Fine” it comes out much colder than you expected it to as you rise up to your feet on your own, his hand is left hanging awkwardly to which he slowly closes before placing it behind his head as he bites his bottom lip and your eyes can’t help but fall on them again, they which were so close and yet so far. “Let’s go” and this time you lead him out of the lavender field.
The walk back to the house is silent, the same awkwardness that hadn’t made an appearance in so long settles in the air, it’s thick and heavy and you can feel it weigh you down. Upon arriving back to the house, a carriage awaits outside, a military emblem on the back and your heart drops, eyes widen and your steps stop. “It couldn’t be” you let out at barely a whisper.
But the slightest sound from you is enough to have Jisung’s head snap up towards you, for he’s been waiting for you to make a sound, any sound to rid this atmosphere. "What is it?" He asks also hushed, his eyes follow yours and there it leads to the carriage, a smile rips through his face and he runs ahead.  Confused you rush your steps but the anxiety building up in your chest stays, the lump in your throat is still hard to swallow.
“Y/N!” Jaemin calls you whilst waving his hand eagerly, calling you to come quickly and as you step closer the constraining feeling in your chest dissipates as the figure that steps out of the carriage is an unknown one to you. You stand by Jaemin’s side, who radiates excitement off him and you can’t help but smile as the little boy in the picture is standing right before you, the same eager stance and pretty smile that even the sun envies. The man exists and immediately pulls Jeno into an embrace so tight and you swear you see Jeno’s eyes sparkle as tears threaten to fall. Jisung is much less subtle at concealing his tears, he sobs into the man’s shoulder and it’s only then you presume this is their father. Jisung’s eyes are red and he sniffles as his father let’s go of him and your heart clenches at his adorableness. Jaemin is as happy as ever, hugging his father as tight as ever, eyes closed in pure bliss. You’re smiling like a fool as the heartwarming scene unfolds in front of you, so busy looking at the happy smiles and the stray few tears that are still running down Jisung’s cheeks you don’t notice the new acquaintance step in front of you until he clears his throat and you jump to meet his gaze.
“You must be Y/N” he smiles extending his hand and you place yours in it, shaking it. “I’ve heard a lot about you in all my son’s letters” your eyes widen and your turn to the three boy, Jaemin with that damn smirk on his face, Jisung avoiding your eyes and as always finding his shoes much more interesting, thank god for Jeno who offers a comforting smile assuring it’s all good things. “Sir you’ve raised three fine men, who have all welcomed me” you bow your head in thanks and he smiles once again.
“I couldn’t possible take any credit for it, it’s all thanks to their mother and Daphne of course” he turns from you to her and she pulls him into an embrace “Thank you for looking after them” he says barely audible but Daphne catches it and just as softly replies “but of course”. As everyone heads inside you wait until Jisung is by your side to start heading in as well, “Crybaby” you whisper with a teasing smile you nudge him with your elbow, he scoffs as he’s wiping his tear stained cheeks but he can’t help smile back at you.
Seated around the dining table, as always by Jaemin’s side and opposite Jisung, their father sits at the head of the table and more food than ever is being served tonight in celebration. You’re much more quiet tonight despite Jaemin continuously making sure you feel involved in the conversation, you’re eternally grateful for him. “So Y/N, why did you leave home?” their father asks so casually it almost goes unnoticed by the boys but Jisung almost chokes on his water, Jeno’s eyes widen and Jaemin almost immediately tries to shut down the conversation “Father” he gives him a pointed look, jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed as he shakes his head.
“Jaemin, it's okay" you smile towards him, "freedom i suppose sir" you answer the question and Jisung's father squints his eyes, as he lets out a hum in acknowledgement of your answer. "Even after all your family has done for you?" He continues to question "you come from the family my late wife used to work under, am I correct?" And you simply nod "yes I do".
"The late General's daughter" he states "I wonder if he's turning in his grave at this moment" Jisung's grip on his silverware tightens and you notice his knuckles turn white and once again Jaemin's stare is begging his father to stop as Jeno looks over to see how affected you are by his cruel words. You don't falter though, you know what you've done can seem selfish but it was necessary "I'm sure he is" you laugh out "but he's always known I'm never one to listen" you continue to pick away at the food on your plate and you can feel all there gazes falls onto you, as you look up Jisung’s eye bore into yours as he mouths a soft “sorry” to you and you smile back at him shaking your head.
“I assume you’ve run from marriage” Jisung’s father starts up conversation again and you only nod as an answer “Are you against marriage?” he asks and it’s if he wants tears to fall from your eyes as he keeps pushing where he knows it’ll hurt. “Of course not but I would like to pursue a higher education or experience the world first” you explain, still keeping your calm.
“You think a woman is capable of doing such things?” he asks again and it’s this question that really makes your skin crawl and your jaw tighten. Questioning your methods of gaining freedom is one thing but looking down on all women and claiming them unable is one you can’t stand for. “I think we are very capable, I think the suffragettes have made that very clear and sir didn’t you work with the Weimar Government, they were the first government to allow women to vote I would think their initiative would have rubbed off on you” and he only smiles at your answer.
“I was stationed in Germany and worked under the Weimar Government up until their collapse, you’re correct” he begins to tell you “I have to tell you that I agree with your view, I’ve seen much that women are capable of doing” he says and your eyes widen at his words “I think what you did was brave and admirable, my three boys could learn from you, I hope you can lend Jisung some of your courage” he smiles at you and your jaw still hangs as does everyone else's around the table and as you look up to find pink hues invading Jisung’s cheeks once again, if you didn’t know any better you would have thought it were always like that regardless. You nod at their father before answering back “I think I’m the one who’s learning a lot form Jisung sir” and the shades of pink darken
The atmosphere had lightened again somewhat although the topic on war was not a light one at all, as their father expressed his worry about sending his three sons off to war and how in ruins the country would be again, worry sat in your chest. Jeno and Jaemin are strong all physically, emotionally and mentally but Jisung is the sweet boy who wouldn’t hurt a bee. “What do you think of the current situation of our country Y/N'' Jeno taking you out of your thoughts, you head snaps up to him “I think the war is unavoidable despite our economic stance, Germany has already invaded Czechoslovakia and it’s only time before they invade Poland meaning our involvement in the war is definite whether we want it or not'' the table falls silent as they process your words and it’s not until Jisung’s father begins to nod and expand on your thoughts but you zone out as you watch Jisung fiddle with the knotted lavenders you had gifted him and your lips can’t help but curve.
The next morning a book awaited you on your vanity, a scarlet red cover with gold print, you ran your fingers along. “Sonnets'' it read and as you flicked open to the first page, familiar handwriting appeared “A collection of my favourite - Jisung” a smile spread across your face as it usually did when your thoughts ran to Jisung. You sat down flicking to the first poem “Sonnet 18” a giggle escaped your mouth and like a schoolgirl already aware of the beauty Shakespear's arguably most famous sonnet holds, the giddy feeling of butterflies blooming caused your heartbeat to quicken and a heat to rise.
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And too often is his gold complexion dimm’d:
Annotations surround the poem as Jisung highlights and picks out certain lines. The second line is underlined and next to it he writes “Though you are lovely, temperate is definitely up for debate” he teases and you scoff at his words. You read on and lines four and five are underlined and his annotation reads “The eye of heaven is you who shines gloriously throughout the day and yet too often you allow yourself to dim. Don’t.”
And every fair from fair sometimes declines,
By chance or natures changing course untrimm’d;
By thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
“You are my eternal summer, your beauty is one that isn’t possible to vanish, it’s infinite unlike summer which collapses in winter” you read on as lines nine and ten are underlined.
Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
The the final annotation as the last three lines are highlighted, Jisung says “Your beauty shall remain eternal so long as my heart beats, so long as i live and breathe, so long as my eyes can see your beauty, I only seem to think of you now as i read this poem and in this poem the memory of you shall live on” you heart beats erratically in your chest, you’re breathless as his words halt your breathing. Forgetting such simple acts as thinking and even breathing seem to be a regular side effect in the presence of Jisung, just the mere thought of him. Your palms grow sweaty, your heart clenches reading over the words again and again, you pinch yourself. For this moment, seems like nothing but a dream, your heads in the cloud, you're living in the heavens. The feeling is suffocating, your own throat is closing in on you, the pain in your chest spreads like wildfire, your whole body aches with admiration for him. Yet the constant question looms over your head, what does he really mean by this? Is his feeling the same as yours? Or is he portraying the beautiful friendship you both have built over the weeks? One thing is sure and it’s that you can’t ruin that, can’t let the heavy air seep in once again and weigh you down.
The days folded out as normal, Jisung’s presence still as overwhelming as ever but you couldn’t help but find serenity in it, he was soft spoken yet his silence speaks the loudest for him, his grace and beauty as  were one to be envied by all but you were nothing more than grateful for being able to witness it day after day, it were as if he had walked out of your dreams. The stolen glances, lingering stares as he smiled or laughed, he stole your heart and he wasn’t even aware it was his anyways. Sitting opposite him, you stare not caring if he or anyone catches you for your far past the point of holding any shame and allowing your eyes to do as they please.
"I have something to announce" Jeno suddenly speaks up, breaking the silence, all eyes turn to him and he audibly gulps. You’ve never seen him so nervous, fiddling with his silverware you almost mistook him for Jisung. He clears his voice before speaking, taking in a deep breath he prepares himself for the words that are about to leave him, “I am to marry” he says quickly waiting for a response, an outroar, a gasp and maybe a few tears but none of them come.
“About time don’t you think” Jaemin laughs out causing the rest of the table to release small giggles at Jeno’s expense, “You have been all giddy and heart eyes at that girl in the village since we were all but five- OW" Jaemin's face twists in pain, hands rushing to his shin as he's cut off by a harsh kick. Jisung and you burst into laughter not being able to hold it in any longer.
"And what are you two laughing at" Jeno punches at Jisung’s shoulder, immediately causing him to halt his laughter as he rubs his shoulder “Well brother, it’s not like it is a secret. Even Y/N knows” and you giggle again as Jisung enlightens Jeno on his obvious swooning.
“What?” Jeno’s eyes widen as he turns to you and you can’t help but laugh even more. “We visited the village and your eyes were stuck, Jeno you walked straight into Jisung” you burst out laughing as you recall the memory. Once the laughter, the teasing, the amount of huffs that leave Jeno quiet down your left with comfort, a bliss that you’ve never felt before, a smile that just won’t leave your face. It’s a beautiful feeling and you wish to memorise it for if numbness overtakes your body, you can relive this exact moment of the solace you found in those around this table.
“Is that three out of the four of us in love?” Jaemin smirks as he lifts his glass to his lips, looking around the table, Jeno scoffs at his words but confusion is written all over you and Jisung. Did Jaemin know that your heart only seems to beat for Jisung? How did he know? Who was the other person? Was it Jaemin or Jisung? If Jisung, who did he love? The questions ran through your mind in circles and it only spewed more questions to follow, your head was spinning stuck in the spiral of curiosity, but curiosity always killed the cat.
But cats have 8 other lives right? That is what you had decided later that night, sat beside Jisung on the stone wall, letting curiosity take over you - slightly. Your legs dangled, swinging them back and forth, whilst Jisung’s gaze was set on the crashing waves of purple as the moon pulled them back and forth; yours were stuck on him. The moonlight illuminated, captured his beauty in a way the sun couldn’t, it seemed the goddess of the moon saw greater beauty in Jisung than Apollo could ever begin to understand.
“I could not fail to realise that sonnet 23 was not amongst your favourite” your eyes darting out towards the fields as his turn to you, “It’s one of my favourites” you tell him.
“I’m sorry to disappoint but do you not think it’s a bit cliche” he laughs and your eyebrows shoot up in slight disbelief “and sonnet 18 is not” you scoff, finally meeting his eyes.
“Sonnet 18 is beautiful” he argues and he swings into you, nudging you slightly, rolling your eyes you nudge him back “Sonnet 23 is just as or dare I say more” and he smiles slightly, eyes turning back to the night sky, the clouds running over the moon and Jisung is left amongst the stars. “How so?” he dares to question.
“It is, for one, far more romantic” you begin “the thought of one loving you with so much passion, so unconditionally that it can not even be professed by words yet the love they feel is so strong they need an escape, to tell that person what they can not truly express fully, to let them show you how much they love you. To hear with eyes as Shakespear so beautifully put it” you nudge him again and he looks down at you, a smile as radiant as the sun,moon and stars combined graces you and again Jisung has stolen your heart in complete silence
“Yet what I love about Sonnet 18 is that it is not too romantic, that the love that Shakespear professes can be for a lover or a friend, he speaks of all the imperfections of summer yet still he loves it, he describes the person he loves as someone who defies all the imperfections for in his eyes they are perfect imperfections when it comes to them” he nudges you back with a slight giggle but you can’t return his happiness for you have been stung as his words seep into your mind.
“Oh for a friend” you whisper, he hears your words but not the sadness behind them as he continues with that bright smile “and that is why it was so perfect to give to you” his words are daggers to the heart, piercing through, it shatters and the fine pieces scatter throughout you and the sadness seeps through every fibre, cell and atom of your body.
“Are you feeling well?”he asks and worry sweeps the smile off his face as he finds the glossiness of your eyes, the slight redness as well as the unusual silence from you. “Fine” you answer jumping off the stone wall, “Just tired” you say looking out to the goddess of the moon one last time, unable to turn and look at the art she admired most. “Goodnight Jisung” you say as you turn back to the house, not sparing him a glance for he stole your heart and then broke it. 
Though that night your tears mixed with moonlight until Morpheus took you to dream and then the next morning tears mixed with sunlight as Apollo pulled his golden chariot, with swollen eyes and a throbbing head you promised this wouldn’t affect the beautiful friendship that had bloomed. Jisung may not love you the way you would like but he still loved you, as a friend. The mere thought of the word stung, another aching rippled through you and your bones quacked.
Many dusks and dawns had passed and since,you’ve managed to create some distance between you and Jisung but as once said distance makes the heart grow fonder and you curse whoever uttered such truth. For every stolen glance and accidental touch seemed to make your dormant heart beat with every intent of being heard as it rose to your throat, suffocating you.
Jeno’s upcoming wedding being the greatest of all excuses to run away from the burning presence of Jisung, for you would flee to the village with Daphne and pick out materials, help Jeno’s fiance pick flowers, handwrite invitations with Jeno and accompany Jaemin on whatever errands he had been sent to do. No one questioned how you decided to spend your time, other than of course Jaemin who couldn’t help but let his curiosity lead the words that spewed out of him, to which you told him he’d regret someday.
“Just tell me Y/N” he groans as he carries the large basket of apples “Why spend your time with me instead of Jisung” he continues to pursue the answers you deny him of.
“Maybe because, and I dare to say, I like your company more” you pinch his cheek and laugh at the pout that forms on his face “What answer are you looking for Jaems, what would you have me say?”
“I want you to say you are helplessly in love with my brother who is just as in love with you however both of you are too busy quoting literature that is up for interpretation rather than professing your feelings because you lack the courage to do so” you freeze at his words and he also comes to a halt, turning towards you his eyes, sympathetic “you both are as obvious as Jeno” he lets out a small laugh.
“He does not love me Jaemin” your voice stern as you try to convince one who believes in fairytales, your steps quicken and he chases after you “and how exactly do you know?” he questions, curiosity endless.
“He said so, he said he gifted me Sonnet 18 as a friend.” You scoff at the absurd word that causes so much pain and you say it with spite everytime.
“Like I said he lacks courage and as my father said you, Y/N, can help him gain it” he tells you, eyes wide with hope and you admire Jaemin for being a hopeless romantic and you only hope he meets someone who completely fulfills his ideology of love.
“I don’t think I possess such courage anymore” you break it to him for Jisung has broken your heart once, how can you have the courage to allow him the chance to do it again.
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Jeno’s wedding arrived much sooner than expected, as the weeks rushed past in much haste as the many busy bodies prepared for the beautiful evening and as hard as you tried to separate yourself from Jisung, the universe liked to disrupt those plans. To the place it all started, so close yet so far apart, you stood rows away from Jisung picking only the prettiest lavenders as per Jeno’s request. The air was thick and heavy despite the August breeze that ran through the fields, an unfamiliar heaviness sat between you two for even as strangers you were far more comfortable. Maybe it’s due to the curiosity you held back then, for the boy in the lavender field, beauty that wasn’t done justice by the word but now that you know him, adore him and are in love with him and now that your heart belongs to him but his not to yours. There’s a void left for the seeping awkwardness to fill, an uneasiness sat in your gut and every moment was excruciating to bare as your heart pains at every beat that belongs to him who does not seem to care.
“Lavenders wouldn’t be my first pick for a wedding” he speaks up first, the silence with you was something he wasn’t used to, you always made sure to replace it with continuous talking and contagious laughter and now that you weren’t, it didn’t feel right to him but you only nod in response not entertaining his thoughts any further. Jisung preferred silence, his thoughts more coherent, his emotions understandable, the silence was comfortable and not overwhelming but with you he couldn’t stand it, mind always wondering what you were thinking, what you were feeling, he needed to know. 
So he carries on speaking, “If it were up to me, Irises and carnations” he expects an interrogation, your endless curiosity asking why that would be his pick but it never comes. So he continues speaking, giving you the answer you didn’t ask for “Irises mean faith, fitting for a lifelong vow” he laughs as he looks over to you stoic expression, cutting off his soft laughter he again begins to speak “and carnation, white ones that symbolise-”
“Eternal love” you cut him off, turning to him, finally speaking yet your tone is monotonous and there is no emotion evident on your face. There’s slight fear in him and it rises, a lump forming in his throat that he can’t quite seem to swallow “Exactly” he choked out, voice strained.
You let out a breath that seemed to be weighing you down, you couldn’t let him continue talking about the meaning behind the flowers, your heart couldn’t take it for aching stops momentarily and instead it flutters and swoons across your chest but then reality hit and it shatters all over again, the pain shooting through your bloodstream.
“Are you feeling well?” he asks as he always does and you answer “Fine” as you always do, even though you both know it’s a lie but he doesn’t push any further as always. The longing feeling for you to look at him and spill all your worries and feelings to him is so great but he doesn’t want to push you to nor does he expect you to trust him with that vulnerability when he himself does not have the courage to do the same back to you.
“I’m going to leave after Jeno’s wedding” you announce working up the little courage you have left, if you say it out loud then you’ll have to follow through. “Thank you for everything” you brace yourself to meet his eyes once more as you turn. “What? Why?” concern so evident in the way his voice wavers, eye glossed over as tears threaten to fall.
“I left to seek my own happiness in life, to make a mark on this Earth yet instead I ran from relying on my family to relying on you and yours” again your voice is completely void of emotions, yet every part of your body was screaming. Longing for the warmth, solace and peace you had found here and it’s at this point you curse yourself for memorising that bliss for all you will do is miss it.
“Did you not feel happiness here?” he screams out, harsher than he expected as he voice comes out rough and broken and you stand there eyes wide for this was the first time the pure,silent and serene boy that stands in the lavender fields has allowed so much emotion to course through his body and you can tell by the way he shakes, the way he struggles to breath and the shock that immediately washed over him upon hearing his own voice raised “I’m sorry” he mumbles in a heavy exhale.
“Thank you for everything Jisung” you offer him a smile as you leave, avoiding his question, leaving him standing alone in the lavender fields.
Leaving the basket of lavenders with Jeno, you rush up the stairs and only when behind the safety of your door do you allow the tears to come streaming down your face, sobs escaping and you hold your mouth to conceal them as you take deep shaky breaths to steady your breathing. Your whole body aches and shakes as it mours the end of your stay, the tears cloud your vision and as you lay down to ease the heartbeat in your head, you cry yourself into a slumber. Even as the dreams swirl around you, pulling you into the unconscious, reality never truly slips away, it haunts you as even in the world you build you can’t stray away from it. The ability to dream of anything further isn’t a possibility, he doesn’t love you and that’s the reality. Why bother dreaming of something that isn’t meant to be. Yet you can’t help but dream of him. His eyes, his smile, his warmth, the pink dust that always decorates his cheeks, his laugh and his existence.
In your days you are held hostage by the daydreams, the what ifs. It felt like you had loved him in every lifetime, you wonder if any had got it right? Had any been loved by him? Your body lies stiff, falling in and out of consciousness but your mind never leaves him. Days go by but time becomes nothing but a construct, eating only becomes a chore.
“Y/N?” a soft voice calls as the door narrows open, a steady stream of gold shining in. You don't move, your head feeling like it's weighed down but you can easily identify the soft voice that speaks. "I brought you something to eat" the footsteps near you, the heavy thuds vibrating through your head. Your eyes peek open to meet Jaemin who crouches down beside you. He moves the few stray strands of hair behind your ear, noticing the wet glimmer of your cheeks he wipes away the tears that stain them.
"What's wrong?" He whispers as if any harsher tone would break you, as if you weren't already broken. You shake your head as your only reply, voice too weak and broken to speak up. You would love to talk to Jaemin, to spill all your worries and heartache but this is a pain too painful to speak of. His hands hold onto your cheeks wiping away any of the stray tears that still fall. His warmth is comforting but it only makes you yearn for Jisung’s more.
Jaemin doesn't leave you that day, he sits by your side in silence. He holds your hand and wipes away your tears, he doesn't attempt to mend your heart, he just sits beside you as it cries out the pain. "It will heal, it will mend itself" he whispers to you as you drift off into the unconscious once again.
It’s the constant knocking at your door that drags you out of the depths of your slumber, pulling you back, the light that streams in as the sun is about to set and you wonder how long you have slept, what time it was and what day it is. Then another knock calls your attention from the window and Daphne steps in “Y/N” she says and her voice is high in surprise as she examines the puffy redness around your eyes. “I was expecting you to be already awake, it is almost time to head to the wedding” she chooses to ignore the wet stains on your silk pillow, choosing to bite her tongue. You choose not to answer her back afraid your voice was raspy and would break, you crawl towards the edge of the bed and swing your legs over as you make your way to the chair that neatly holds your gown for the night, the night that has finally arrived,your last night.
You can see her face change, each one expressing the internal turmoil within her as she questions whether or not to say something. “Just say it Daphne '' you sigh out in a weak smile as you change into the many layers that need to be placed under the gown.
“Ah well” she begins nervously as she fiddles with her loose strings of her apron, she stutters and stumbles over her words but you’ve been taught patience by Jisung as he’d do the same.You smile at the memory of him stuttering, blush across his cheeks as he got nervous causing him to stumble over his words more. You loved seeing him so flustered, loved seeing him progressively become so comfortable around you he never stuttered, became so confident and articulate it was as if he became another person but the same dust of pink never faded but the more you think of him the more it pains and your heart swells as it aches. “You see y/n” she finally spits out as if she had been wrestling the words “If this is your last night, would you not want to leave with a loving memory?” she asks nervously. 
“So it seems word has travelled” you let out a small laugh as you turn to her to pull the strings of your gown and as her hands move to tie knots she laughs as well “Nothing gets past me” and her nervousness visibly dissipates. No more words are exchanged as she helps you ready for tonight, no more words are needed as she sees you slip into the depths of your mind, thinking of what your next act is.
As she places the same pearl necklace you wore the day you came here around your neck, clasping it, she finally turns to leave and through the mirror you see her hesitate but she turns back around a smile across her face “It was a pleasure to meet you ma’am” she says with teary eyes “Y/N” you correct her as you rise quickly, wrapping your arms tightly around her and from the corner of your eye you see Jisung standing at the end of the hallway, witnessing the goodbye he run back down stairs. You saw the glossiness of his eyes and though you would love to leave as a happy memory, would he allow it?
You nervously make your way to the drawing room, there he sits in a black suit, his hair neatly styled yet it looks not much different to everyday. He should not look this good but he does because he is the epitome of beauty. He is beauty personified. You let out a deep breath before you step into his line of view, preparing yourself for whatever is to come next. “Jisung” you call softly but he refuses to look up at you, you can hear him sniffle and his breathing is heavy and you almost could trick yourself into believing he loved you the way you loved him. You sit beside him and take his hand in yours, rubbing small soothing circles by the knuckle of his thumb you attempt to speak, “I am leaving” you choke out,the words are stuck in your throat and he rips his hands away from yours, turning completely with his back towards you. You sigh once again, “Let’s me leave with good memory” you beg, voice small and shaky. This was not the y/n Jisung first met, not the y/n he knows now and definitely not the y/n he fell in love with for you were never one to speak so quietly, yet here you are broken. So he puts away his own selfishness to feel sadness, anger or whatever pulsing emotion that runs course throughout his body.
He turns back to you, eyes glossy and a pout on his lips as he raises a long string of black silk. “I cannot tie it” his voice breaks slightly and you can’t help but smile at his cuteness. You take the silk from his hand and wrap it against his neck, slowly weaving it in and out of itself, you form a knot. “Learn this from a book?” he teases and you can’t help but scoff and roll your eyes. Falling back to where you were with Jisung was never hard, falling in love with him all over again was never hard. “my father taught me” you say as you pull the silk slightly causing his head to jolt forward. A smile perks at his lips as he lets out air from his nose as a form of laughter and you don't realise the lack of space between you two until you feel it brush against your skin and you near closer, eyes drawn to his lips. Your breathing stops and your heart sporadically jumps around in your chest, beating louder than ever.
Jisung’s eyes are closed as he waits for your lips to be placed upon his but they never come and his eyes jump open at the sound of Jaemin’s voice, your warmth escaping him. So close and yet so far, his eyes land on you who’s now moved as far as possible from him. “Y/N, do you know how to tie a tie?” he walks in looking down at the balck silk he holds around his neck but he cuts himself off as his eyes rise to find you and Jisung awkwardly sitting beside each other. “Oh am I interrupting?” he asks in a chuckle as he raises an eyebrow and you shoot up onto your feet, making your way towards him “No not at all” you wave your arms as if it would convince Jaemin. You grab onto both ends of the silk strand, repeating the same movements as earlier and looking down at the silk you can practically feel Jaemin’s smile that beams from above. You weave the string in and out of itself and pull tight around his neck causing Jaemin’s head to pull back “OW '' he huffs out in a pout, you pat down his tie and with a smile as gleaming as his was a mere moments ago, you apologise. 
“Oh y/n you know how to tie a tie, thank god” Jeno rushes in with his father soon after him both holding the same black silk around their neck “Does nobody in this house know how to tie a tie” you laugh in disbelief. “Our mother used to do them,” Jeno whispers as your hands make their way up to form the same knot you’ve made twice already. He thanks you silently with a sweet smile, those crescent moons you adore showing up.You move on to their father, tying his tie neatly and much more carefully than the rest. “Thank you for everything, y/n” he bows his head to you and you whisper “It’s nothing” shyly. “It’s been a pleasure having you become a part of our family” he continues and his words are like a stake to your heart, the same aching reappearing as nothing fails to remind you of your departure.
“Thank you for welcoming me bu-t'' you're cut off instantly 
“no buts y/n, you are family” Jeno interrupts and if it was anyone else you don’t think those words would have held such meaning for Jeno is a silent lover, showing his affection through sweet smiles, concerned looks and kind gestures; he was never one for words of affirmation. So you smile, ignoring the tears that prick at your eyes, ignoring the deep breaths that leave Jisung and the solemn sadness on Jaemin’s face.
“We need to go” Jaemin looks down at his pocket watch, as always sensing the tension in the room and ready to dissipate it, he urges everyone out the door and as you’re about to step out, a warmth engulfs you as Jisung catches your hand in his. Turning back you are met with a smile but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes that hold a sense of sadness as they glimmer in the setting sun.
Hours after the sun had sunk into the horizon, the moon well into its reign, music rang through the center of town as everyone gathered to celebrate the new chapter of Jeno’s life. A ceremony so beautiful, you were sure you witnessed true love when Jeno’s eyes set on his bride that walked the altar.
After all the tears, it was finally time for the bubbling of champagne to intoxicate your bloodstream and to allow the music to take control of every swayed movement of your body. Standing under the yellow dimmed lights, Jisung glew a gold you didn’t know existed but easily was the prettiest you had ever seen. His cheekbones high and lips painted pink, golden flute in hand and silk tie loosened you could easily say he was the prettiest here, outshining all. For Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty lived through him, simple acts such as greeting guests left you stunned. Eyes chasing every movement of his, from the way his hands moved as he spoke, to the way he smiled once seeing an old friend, the way he laughed softly in conversation and when his eyes travelled back to you when he thought you weren't looking.
And to pull you out of that trance was none other than Jaemin, “Would you and Jisung stop exchanging lover eyes and dance already” he whispers as he places himself beside you, you scoff at his words and slightly nudge him with your elbow.
“Are you so bored that your eyes follow mine?” you question and his simple and instant “Yes” make your eyes roll as far as possible but you can’t help but smile. “When will you find your own love story? This is one hopeless”
“So when were you planning to tell me you were leaving after tonight” his words don’t come as a surprise, nothing goes past Jaemin but it still doesn’t fail to make your every movement halt as guilt overtakes you, turning to him you begin to explain “I was going to tell you as soon as the night was over, it was unexpected I promise” you say softly.
“I don’t suppose i can change your mind in any way?” he asks hopefully, still with the knowledge he wouldn’t be able to. You shake your head slowly, unable to say the words that will so obviously ruin the both of you but Jaemin is never one to sit in sadness, always being his priority to make you feel better. 
“Would you allow me this first dance?” he bows down asking for your hand and with that you place yours in his, placing a soft kiss to the knuckles he pulls you into the center of the floor. Legs moving to the beat, Jaemin’s hand on your waist he guides you through the waltz, breaths heaving and smiles plastered on your face he bends down once more to place a kiss on your knuckles as the music dies down declaring the end of the dance, a sad smile spreads across his face and he whispers “Goodbye” against your skin, looking up to meet your eyes who hold nothing but despair. Yet the hardest is to come when you turn and automatically your eyes find Jisungs, who just happened to be looking your way.
You offer him a smile before heading towards him “And why are you not dancing, I’m sure plenty of girls are just about dying to be your first dance” you tease him and he laughs along with you, hands rising they scratch the back of his neck as he prepares to confess to you “I actually do not know how to dance” he spits out fast hoping you don't catch his words but you do. Eyes widening and mouth agape, you let out a gasp 
“Jisung you do not know how to-” you're cut off by his hand on your mouth as he looks around to see if anyone has heard the sentence about to leave you. 
“Quietly, I think the whole of London can hear you” he says in a whisper still looking around. Removing his hand, you roll your eyes at his antics.
“Let me teach you” you whisper back and he turns to you, eyebrow raised as he assesses how good of a dancer you could be.
“I am not entirely sure, who did you learn from? A book?” he teases, still completely in character until you shove him and his laughter comes spilling out “You used the joke once already” you roll your eyes 
“I was taught by trainers actually, do you forget I was to be wed” you scoff at his assumption and rise to your feet, hand extended for Jisung to take. He stares at you, watches the way the light bounces off your skin causing you to glow, your eyes glimmer, smile bright and the confidence and charm you carry in inexplicably attractive as you stand under the moon, offering to be Jisung’s first dance and it’s here he decides you’ll be his last.
The moment his hand is in yours, you drag him straight to the crowd, the music is quick to start and you waste no time in giving out instructions. “Place your hand on my waist” you order
“Your what?” Jisung’s eyes are wide as he cluelessly asks
“My waist” you repeat again, emphasizing each word and you drag his hand up and place it on your waist for yourself. Then putting your own hand on his shoulder, you pull him a little closer. “Just follow my lead” you reassure him as you witness the petrified look on his face.
“Left foot forward” you say to him as you move yours back, “Right foot forward, feet together” you continue to guide him through the dance as you spin around the room, ‘Now left foot back, right foot back, now feet together” you repeat the sequined dance around the room, music thumping through your body and you convince yourself it’s that you feel and not the heavy beats of your heart as the space between you and Jisung seems to close more and more. As he leans in so close you can feel the air that leaves him, fanning over you. You look up and his eyes are set on you, only adoration is held in them and Jisung thinks it’s now or never as he tries to fully close the gap between you two, to place his lips on yours but then you let go, head turning to the right “Now we switch you” you say as you land into another man's arms, repeating the same steps you did with Jisung moments ago with another. So close and yet so far is all Jisung can think whilst his eyes watch you twirl about the room.
Once finally back in his arms, the music seizes and he’s forced to remove himself from you. You can’t help but smile at him as he looks down at you, breathing heavily with a flush of pink to his cheeks yet he seems to be gleaming in the buzzing sensation of a waltz. The air is heavy with sweat and alcohol, the room is filled with chatter and loud laughs but that all falls away once you look at Jisung. So you dance to every song as if you were the only two people to exist, for this was your last night and this was your last dance.
Endless glasses of champagne later your dancing feet carry you outside, the cool summer nights air washes over you, clearing your mind of the foggy mist of alcohol yet the coolness of the moonlight is overwhelmed by the warmth of Jisung’s presence as he stumbles next to you, tripping over his own legs he lands in your arms. “I think you drank a little too much” you laugh down at him.
“No I am perfectly fine” He quickly stabilizes himself, straightening out his clothes and you can only smile as he shakes off your support. “If you say so” you turn to the night sky, looking up to the moon who you haven't had the courage to face since. The wind rushing past you, crickets croaking and the stars blazing across the sky, your legs about to give way as the alcohol circulates your body, you find purchase on a stone bridge, Jisung following soon after you. The water trickles down under you, the calming sound washes over you and the solace you so missed seems to make an appearance once again as you allow yourself to surrender to Jisung’s presence. Silence sits between the two of you but it’s not the one you wish to fill, insead you choose to let it engulf you not wanting words to taint this moment. Your last moment.
Jisung however doesn’t think he can hold it in anymore, the liquid courage is just about enough for him to declare his roaring love for you, a flame that won’t go out no matter how far he pushes the idea of you away. He wasn’t sure if this was love but the ache in his chest all these days proved it could be nothing but love. The longing to be by your side as you found happiness, found your own way into this world and to watch you become who you want, is unbearably strong. This is his only chance before the goddess of the moon takes you away with her, for when the sun rises, you'll set into nothing but a memory. So here Jisung turns to you, staring at your beautifully carved features, moonlight highlighting every perfection; deep breaths he calms his nerves. Adrenaline rushing through every nerve, he finally builds the courage and out the words he never knew would feel so good to pronounce “Y/N I love you” it comes out in a whisper but by the way your eyes widen, breathing halts, Jisung knows you’ve heard.
“Jisung you are drunk” you laugh off
“Drunk lies are sober truths” he says in all seriousness, his eyes are begging for yours to turn to him and so you give in to their silent cry. “I’ve loved you from the moment I met you, for I thought soulmates were nothing but a fairytale until mine spoke to me upon laying eyes on you. I denied my feelings towards you, for I didn’t know if it was love I felt for you or not but I do. Love, adoration, affection and warmth. The moon only looks beautiful with you under it, the sun only shines with you beside me.” he professes and the sincerity in his voice strucks you, for every fiber of your being longs for these exact words but can you believe him?
He inches closer, his scent and warmth trapping you in a trance and you can’t find it in yourself to back away as he moves towards your lips, his breath mixing with your own, the flush off his cheeks that are illuminated by the moonlight. Everything is perfect except he’s drunk. Though your heart screams for you to close the gap, place your lips on his and kiss him until he’s breathless, your head scream the opposite, move back, wait till the morning when his head is in the right place, don’t allow him to make a mistake that’ll hurt you and when were you ever one to not listen to your mind. “You are drunk”  you whisper to him, so close he can almost feel your lips move against his, flinching back, ignoring the cry of your heart that desires nothing more than to feel Jisung’s confession. Jisung’s eyes open to find you pulled away, for once again he was so close yet so far.
“We should return” you jump up, step fastening back to the crowds of people who were still dancing and laughing. Jisung’s hurried footsteps rush beside you, his hand holding onto your wrist, he pulls you into him. Arms wrapping around you so tight, he’s afraid you’ll pull away and that he’ll lose you. You already pulled away from him once, you’re not sure you have the power in you to do it a second; so you let him hold you. His face hidden into the crook of your neck, he speaks into your skin 
“Love for you fades the exhausting hours till Kingdom come, for even then my soul only speaks of you, my heart only beats for you. Let me love and let me give, for both are infinite” he confesses once again.
Your arms instantly wrap around his figure, you allow your love to course through your body to his, you hope he can feel your heartbeat, the steady pace that keeps you alive for his existence, and him only. For without him what was the purpose of living? You stand there under the moonlight, red strings wrapped around you, Eros’s arrow shot through you, and hold onto each other.
Walking back, hand in hand, smiling like fools. The air smells sweeter, the world seems brighter as your heart skips a beat every now and then “In all honesty” Jisung breaks the blissful silence, his voice deep and smooth and it sends shivers down and through you just as it did the first day. Once your eyes are on him, giving him your undivided attention he continues “I lacked the courage to gift you Sonnet 23 but I wanted to” he tells you “Promise” he makes sure you believe his words and you can’t help but smile.
“You still lack courage, this is the alcohol’s courage” you tease him, swinging your arms back and forth as you walk on. He giggles at your comment because he knows it’s true, if it wasn’t for the liquid courage he doesn’t think he would have been able to confess to you but he’s glad he has because if he hadn’t, would he ever get the chance to?
“So will you stay?” he asks, voice hopeful and eyes pleading as he pouts, in hope it would convince you but you didn’t need anymore convincing, for if you want to follow happiness and happiness just so happens to follow Jisung, who were you to seek for more elsewhere. “Perhaps” a smirk makes it way up your lips as you give him vague answers. “I will take that as a yes” he laughs out, holding onto your hand a little bit tighter, to ensure you really weren’t going anywhere.
Love is a complex feeling, one that causes an unbearable amount of pain; as if your chest had been slit open, heart pulled out and crushed. An aching pain resonates throughout your whole body, endless tears and you don’t think you can live to see another sunrise yet it’s euphoric in every way. From the tingling sensation at just the sight of your love, the shivers, the heat that takes over, the trance you left in as their words hypnotise you, the warmth of their presence and sweet scent. In Jisung you found peace,solace,serenity and love.
“Jaemin” Jisung calls out as he can just about make him out in the distance “Y/N said she has decided to stay” he shouts out like a child, excited he’s jumping up and down and you find yourself smiling and laughing again, for with Jisung it’s the only thing you seem to be able to do. Yet as you draw closer to Jaemin and the guests he happens to be wishing a farewell too, your smile and heart both drop.
“Y/N” one of the two men calls out as your figure becomes more apparent to them, disbelief held in their voice as they call out to you. Jisung and Jaemin eyebrows shot up in shock, eyes widening as they wonder how you are acquainted.
“How do you know our y/n?” Jaemin asks, always being the first one to dissolve the awkward silences, the men are taken aback clearly by the way their jaws hang slightly.
“She is our sister” the taller stutters out, your blood rushes cold as the words leave his lips, what would happen now? Would they allow you to just roam free? You thought for a second before you mentally scolded yourself, they would never allow that. They will force you back. “I am not returning” you spit out, not beating around the bush, you get straight to the point.
“But you must, mother is left worried" he tries to grab onto your wrist but you move back not allowing him to get a hold on you.
"Worried for me? Or that the season is almost finished?" You question him and guilt is evident in his eyes as your question takes him aback.
"Don't be silly" your younger brother tries to calm you, "we just want you home" he tries to convince you.
"I am perfectly fine on my own" you stand your ground even though you see the frustration in your older brother, creep closer and closer to the surface "I have no intention of returning" you continue to press forward.
"Do you not feel shame, what would father have to say?" He dares ask. Shame? The word linger in your head for you to wonder if your brother truly knows the definition of the word or were all those years at Oxford a waste. For how had this brought shame upon you or your father, how does a want for purpose,happiness and freedom lead to shame?
"For if father was alive, this problem wouldn't have occurred. He would have listened" you hissed, jaw tight as you teeth clenched and the words slipped out through the small cracks.
"How naive of you to think'' he laughs and finally latches onto your wrist, holding tightly he's prepared to drag you to the carriage until another holds you back. Jisung’s hand holds onto your arm, pulling you back, looking back you don’t think you have never seen such fierce eyes. A red you never thought you’d see engulf Jisung, he’s not prepared to let you go. "Let go" your brother's voice is stern as he clenches his jaw yet Jisung doesn't budge.
"Jisung this isn't our place" Jaemin whispers, defeat in his voice and he is right. What say do they have in this? If you don’t even have a choice, who are they to decide but then again you are certain a man’s opinion will most definitely be heard by your brother over your own anyday. “Let go of her,” Jisung threatened.
Your brother couldn’t help but scoff at his words “She belongs to me, I am her blood and she holds mine and my father’s name” his grip tightening around your wrist as he pulls you towards him once more, your eyebrows furrow and you wince in slight pain, Jaemin instinctively flinches forward before stopping himself, getting involved will just make it worse he reminds himself. You smile at him weakly in hopes it can put him at ease but as both your arms are being held hostage, both cuffs tightening as the seconds go by not one daring to back down.
“She doesn’t belong to anyone” Jisung spits back “She is free to do as she pleases and she chooses to stay here” he continuously argues in hope of changing his mind , yet what can he possibly do? Now that they have found you, what is left for you to do? They will not let you live on how you wish, they will not leave without you and even if they didn’t take you tonight, they will come back for you. It’ll only cause chaos, you will again become a burden on someone else. “You do not own her” he repeats.
The words you so despise form on your tongue and as you open your mouth to say them, Jisung’s eye beg you not to. He knows what's to come and even as every ounce of your being screams and cries as the words are spoken, you let them leave you regardless. “Let go Jisung” voice weak, shaking.
“But you said you would stay” his voice shaky, encased in sadness, his grip weakens but his hold stays, unable to let you go once he’s finally got you but you were always a dream to him, one that never seemed quite real and though you mixed with reality, almost coming true, he was but a fool to believe you could be his.
“I said maybe” your voice quiet, breaking a promise you didn’t make, breaking his heart and breaking yours that was just put back together.
“She said for you to let go” Your brother interrupts, a smirk on his face that Jaemin has a dying need to punch off but he retains himself. Jisung lets go of you hesitantly, his hand still lingering onto the skin of your forearm and you take in his touch one last time. He watches you leave, tears falling from his eyes for you were so close yet so far.
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The tears from that night, months ago, have yet still to dry for every living and breathing moment is lived in agony, longing turning into nothing but numbness as it engulfed your being and became you. Days and nights merged, smiles are a forgotten act for it felt awkward even attempting. The large manor is silent, it perfectly resembles the void in your chest. You live as a ghost, sleepless nights and empty days your mind always occupied with the thought of Jisung.
His eyes that held the universe, his warmth the sun envied, his smile were solace was found, his laughter that was contagious, voice that was soothing, beauty unmatched, the gods were both proud and envious of their greatest creation. The years went by and yet the image of his is as clear as ever, preserved in your memories, you live on in your dreams that can’t escape reality. So close and yet so far from each other.
You sit in the empty rooms, walls bare for the art never compared to Jisung’s beauty, you never found art that could express the definition of art as well as Jisung did. Each time looking at Jisung you found a new feature to adore, hidden beauties that appeared when the moonlight hit his skin, features highlighted by the golden rays of the sun. No art seemed to do that, no art seemed worthy of showcasing.
Your library remains empty, clearing it out of all books, you couldn't bear to look at one again. For everyone of them taunted you with the memory of him. The way he used to sit in the center of the room, arms sprawled out on the desk, his head so close to the paper as he would write. Your eyes would follow every one of his movements, so distracted you would forget about the heavy book in your hand. Yet now with a book in hand, your eyes search for distraction. Yearning to find him, to make the pink blush, that you so missed, appear as he couldn't take your stare any longer. The adrenaline of when his eyes suddenly come up to meet yours, the scrambling of his when you catched his stare. You missed it all.
“Shall I compare thee to a summer's day” the performer begins, as you sit around the large table for dinner. Your every movement halts as the words leave his mouth, your mind runs back to the lavender fields, into the small room at the back of the house, finding the scarlet red book. “Thou art more lovely and more temperate” he continues on but no you are not temperate. Your heart aches, your eyes sting and a wave of nausea over takes you. Your fist smash into the table, legs standing up, you push the heavy velvet chair back
“Stop!” you shout, voice hoarse and broken, you can’t help the tears that roll down your cheek. You can’t help the way your whole body shakes upon hearing those words, you can’t help but miss him. The whole room stares at you, a heavy silence settles, the only sounds are your whimpers as you sob in your palms, falling to your knees. Their eyes lingered, terrified. No one dared to speak to you first, let alone the events of the night. Afraid they would cause you to break down once more but they failed to see it was they, who stole happiness away from you, stole freedom and ripped your heart out of your chest. You wandered aimlessly through the many halls, staring out of windows you wanted the sun rise and fall, watched the goddess of the moon shine down on the earth yet neither held the beauty they did when Jisung was by your side.
Summer has come to find you once again, those who say time heals have never been broken. Time doesn’t heal. Time forgets, the world may move on but you do not, you cannot share the same ecstasy the birds sing, the happiness in summer flowers, For now you hate flowers, you hate how their beauty and meaning are only reminders of your longing.
“How about lavenders for the drawing room ma’am, I’m told they are your favourite” the maid asks, her mission to make you smile, to rid you of the constant tear stained cheeks; nothing but a failure is awaiting her. Just the mere thought of lavenders causes your skin to crawl, for nothing symbolises him more than the vibrant violet. Yet you turn to her, a weak smile and you nod because maybe the scent will help ease your heart and just maybe you’ll find serenity in them once more.
Though days were long, summer left in a hurry for now autumn was here once more. The leaves had already begun to brown and the vase filled with lavenders, which sat upon the grand piano, had wilted now - their scent and comfort decaying with them.
And soon followed the day, the world knew would soon be coming, had arrived upon us, September 1st 1939:
“we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.” you read Winston Churchill’s words in the papers, war has arrived. The heavy ring sits on your finger as you stare out the window reminiscing the day you were watching the carriage be prepared and though it is your two brothers and the Earl’s son leaving you can’t help but let your mind imagine Jeno,Jaemin and Jisung, For the war will take them further away from you, to barren land filled with death, guns pointed at them, bombs dropping at anytime. Though the war has imprisoned many,taken from others, you thank it’s timing for it has liberated you momentarily. The Earl’s son waved goodbye to you and though you raise your hand to send him off to a war you’re not sure he’ll return from, you have no intention of calling him your fiance whilst he is gone and if he returns you have no intention of calling him your husband. You pity him in that memory.
“Ma’am” a voice calls out to you, you don’t recognise who it is for every voice sounds the same but regardless it pulls you back to the world of the present for the war was already well into its sixth year. Though your body is here, your heart and soul never left Jisung for he had stolen that long ago. You turn to find a small envelope, blue like the ones that found you happiness. “To y/n'' the handwriting is familiar but to you all letters were painted the way Jisung’s hand did, for your eyes can simply not forget but it is what the letter contained that brought a soul into your lifeless shell.
As an unperfect actor on the stage
Who with his fear is put beside his part,
Sonnet 23 with annotations is what your eyes fall upon, the second line underlined it reads: “With great courage I put aside this fear to confess to you such words that I cannot express on my own.” Your hand runs over the lines, the smell of gunpowder but there is a scent that you so long for. The scent of lavender still lingers onto the parchment which ripples under your clutch. .
Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart;
The next lines highlighted “For this feeling was just as strong as rage yet it was where I found peace, my heart weakened at the sight of you and from that moment onwards it belonged to you.” A smile naturally took over you, the flutter in your chest an ecstatic feeling you forgot.
So I for fear of trust forget to say
The perfect ceremony of love’s rite,
And in mine own love’s strength seem to decay,
O’ercharged with burden of mine own love’s might.
O, let my books be then the eloquence
And dumb presagers of my speaking breast,
Who plead for love and look for recompense
More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.
O, learn to read what silent love hath writ.
To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit.
“Know that I cannot express the words my soul speaks, for we are worlds apart so allow the empty words of the English language, attempt to convey my love. Look not at my words only but at the way the fool I make in your presence for my mind is clouded with you, heart beats for you and soul yearns for you. For you are my sonnet 18 as a friend and sonnet 23 as a lover.” Tears fall unnoticed, for you hear his voice so clear in your head, for six years you waited for a single word from him and here he has gifted you a sonnet between lovers, so how could you possibly love someone else.
“Yours forever Jisung, the boy who waits in the lavender field”. You sob as you read those words, a fresh new wave of tears staining the parchment as the longing to be in his warmth and comfort is washed upon you as if it were that day you were forced away from him. Opening a wound that never could fully heal.
Waiting is a virtue of love, it proves your love, for it feels equivalent to death and yet you still wait but there is a point in time where you can wait no longer, where you must stop waiting and strive for love now. At this exact moment, it is time. For you are ready to give up the world to run to Jisung, to find the beauty in the moon once more, to find solace in the sweet smell of lavenders once more, to find the warmth of the sun once more, to find happiness once more. For happiness was the only reason worth living.
You're not sure how long you’ve been running, legs moving on their own, you don’t look back you’ve learnt never to look back, never return. As the metallic taste at the back of your throat rises, oxygen running thin and your legs almost collapse from exhaustion. It’s as if you jumped out of the past, gown torn at the train station, you’re left in rags but it’s different this time. For before you ran to find your happiness and now you run to where happiness lies. In a field of lavenders.
Every fiber of your being pulses with the need to see him, hear him, touch him. To feel his warmth once more, to have his voice send serenity through you, to see his eyes again and to smell the sweet scent that lingers around him. You’re not sure what souls are made of but whatever it is yours and his are the same. For your heart yearns for him, desperate, it aches every living second of everyday without him. For a life without love, is a life unlived.
The rows and rows of purple are in sight and there in the middle of it all stands him, waiting. Jisung doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, he can tell by your footsteps, your breath, your scent and the sudden ease he feels. You are there. Yet he does anyways for the memory of you has haunted him for the past 6 years, on the battlefield, in the barracks, he would only see you, only hear you but he couldn’t touch you; for you were merely a dream mixing with reality.
But here you are standing in front of him, Your expensive dress torn up, now rags that wrapped around you with the bottom half missing. He smiles as nostalgia washes over him, was this real or were you just a fragmented memory. Was he simply remembering happier times, a time where you were in his grasp. “Jisung” you call out, voice soft and unsure, a hand reaching out for his own, to make sure what you saw in front of you wasn’t a hallucination, a cruel trick your mind played on you. Slowly a warmth overtook your hand, sparks sent through your skin and into your bloodstream and the beating of your heart returned. Tears formed but never fell because one of you needs to be strong, Jisung sobbed as he fell into your embrace, gripping onto you. “Never leave again” he chokes out, breathing heavy and uneven. “Promise me” he whispers into your hair.
Pulling him back to face you, his eyes are red and puffy yet they burn with passion, his cheeks stained with tears but the pink dust is always still there, you smile at him closing the gap and finally placing your lips on his. The taste of salty tears invade your mouth and your lips move against his and he kisses you back, placing his hand on your cheek he pulls you closer, thumb brushing over the top of your cheekbone. Your knees weaken and you grip at his shirt, desperately clinging to him as your knuckles turn white, as he kisses you with passion overflowing with each soft movement, sincere and full of the love he can't express through words. The scent of lavender is overwhelming and intoxicating, you press yourself against him. Your lungs burn as he kisses you breathless, sparks flying into your bloodstream and unbearable heat takes over whilst your lips move as one. Pulling away, chests heaving as you pull in as you regain all the oxygen you exchange, Jisung places his forehead on yours, his cheeks pink and in between breaths you whisper against his lips “I promise” and again he pulls you in, lips crashing on yours.
This is your first love, it may not be your last but it will be the one you remember most, for it taught you how to love, it taught you the struggles of love and it taught you to feel loved. In search of fulfillment and meaning, you weren't looking for love but it found you and soon after fulfillment and meaning came in the form of a boy in a lavender field.
© (jisungiest) 2021. All Rights Reserved.
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khalixascorner · 2 years
Text
Judge Me Worthy Pt 3
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Summary: Anon Tumblr Ask: Tony must earn the approval of Peter's father to win his hand, and the man think's he's got something over the Stark Alpha, but Tony will show him.
Part 1 Part 2 Read on AO3
Tags: Starker, Peter Parker/Tony Stark, ABO, Mafia Tony, SIM Tony, Richard Parker's bad parenting, offscreen violence, dorks in love, love at first sight, Mafia AU, Italian Tony, no smut, just lots of fluff, tumblr ask, courtship rituals, proud alpha Tony, reference to child abuse
Administering Extremis hurt like a bitch. Rhodey was on standby with JARVIS managing his vitals, so he wasn’t worried that he was actually going to die, but damn if it didn’t feel like it. When it was over, he felt ten years younger and much stronger than he had been. He loaded JARVIS with the data onto a tablet, and had Rhodey take him to get Peter immediately. Given a choice, he would have driven himself, but after multiple broken doorknobs and a few torn clothes, they both agreed he probably shouldn’t be in control of a car just yet.
*****************************
It was just past lunch on a weekend so Tony was fairly confident Richard would be home with Peter, which was perfect. His leg bounced impatiently as they drove, and he could hardly stand still when they rang the bell. Rhodey stood at his back, a solid presence and a reminder to keep his head.
“Can I help you?” a small beta asked as they opened the door.
“I’m here to see Richard,” Tony said politely, giving a sharp smile. “You can tell him Tony Stark is here about an Alpha challenge if he asks.”
The beta’s eyes went wide and he ushered them into a side room before dashing off to get Richard.
Tony took in the poorly furnished room, and scoffed at the attempt at shabby chic that just looked shabby. The man was clearly trying too hard for an old fashioned academic’s look. But then again, after studying his research, that’s all Richard was- a facsimile of an academic who lacked vision and understanding to actually move forward. It made sense that his home reflected that.
It wasn’t long before Tony heard running, and he quickly turned just in time to catch Peter throwing himself into the alpha’s arms.
“Well, hello to you too, Cerbiatto,” Tony said, dropping a kiss on Peter’s head. “I hope you didn’t miss me too much.”
Before Peter could reply, Richard was stalking into the room, clearly in a huff over the whole situation.
“Get away from him, Stark,” Richard said. “I didn’t give permission for anything.”
“I think you’ll find I’ve completed my challenge, which makes him mine,” Tony said with a growl, removing his glasses and letting his now bright blue eyes show.
Richard inhaled sharply, then narrowed his eyes.
“What have you done?”
“Simply created a virus that I could code to alter my DNA however I wanted,” Tony said casually. “I’d show you the actual formula but you apparently have a history with this kind of thing and weren’t exactly responsible with it.”
“You expect me to believe it just because your eyes changed color?” Richard asked, feigning incredulousness when really Tony knew it was greed hiding behind those brown eyes.
Tony grabbed a random metal candlestick and bent it like it was play doh. Then he handed it to Rhodey.
“See if you can’t bend that back, HoneyBear,” Tony said. Rhodey tried for a few minutes before handing it off to Richard. The beta tried as well, to no avail.
“And this is reproducible?” Richard asked, his mind clearly turning over the possibilities and implications.
“It has to be coded to each individual and traits have to be individually selected for but yeah, if I wanted to I could do it for someone else,” Tony said. “Not sure I would though. It’s a bitch to do and not functional for mass production yet.”
“How much do you want for it?” Richard suddenly asked. Tony just laughed.
“You seem to be operating under flawed data, Parker,” Tony said. “I don’t need your money or your company or support. I just want Peter, and per our agreement, he’s mine. Afterall, you just said I had to make something, not that I had to give it to you. So I’ll be taking my omega now. Don’t contact me again.”
Tony put an arm around Peter and started towards the hall when Richard stepped in front of them.
“You really think you can come here, flaunt my life’s work in front of me, and then just walk out with my son?” Richard asked, haughtier than anyone Tony had seen before.
“Actually yeah, that’s exactly what’s going to happen, Beta.” Tony said flatly. “You want to know why? Because this lovely little watch here records everything so I have the alpha challenge recorded, and you clearly feel my work was impressive, which makes Peter mine. If you try to stop me, no one will even try to charge me.”
“You’re going to regret this, Stark,” Richard swore, his eyes on the edge of crazed.
“Honeybear, take my omega to go grab anything he absolutely wants to keep. We won’t be coming back here,” Tony said, anger finally starting to show. He was done with this uppity beta that didn’t know his place. Rhodey nodded and gently guided Peter out, leaving Tony with the man.
******************************
Peter flinched when he heard a thud and the sound of skin on skin. The man next to him noticed and gave him a reassuring smile but kept guiding him further into the house, so Peter followed his lead and headed for his room.
“It’ll be ok. He won’t kill him or anything.”
“Might be better if he did,” Peter muttered, thinking of all the lives his father had ruined.
“Well, I can always let Tones know that’s your preference,” the other alpha said seriously.
Peter stopped to consider it, wondering if he really truly wanted his father dead. If he wanted Tony to be the one to do it. After a minute or two, he shook his head. He wouldn’t care if his father ended up alone in a ditch, but he didn’t want to risk Tony getting dragged into anything to make it happen.
“That’s ok. He’ll get what’s coming to him one day,” Peter said. “I’m Peter by the way.”
“James Rhodes,” the alpha said, giving Peter a nod but not touching him. “You can call me Rhodey though. Everyone else does. I’m Tony’s consigliere, or advisor you’d call it, but honestly, the man’s like a brother to me so I’m sure you’ll see me around a lot.”
“So he’s really part of the mob then?” Peter asked. He had wondered, because there were rumors, but he didn’t want to assume.
“Yeah, he’s the boss of the Carbonel family,” Rhodey said, giving him a strange look. Peter hummed and started packing as he thought that over.
“I wasn’t sure honestly, because there are a lot of rumors about him,” Peter finally said.
“Is it a problem?”
“No!” Peter’s response was immediate and he blushed. “I knew he made weapons and was probably on the shadier side, but I love him and the thought of being without him is like trying to live without breathing.”
Rhodey gave him a searching look before his face softened.
“It’ll be an adjustment, meeting the family and all, but Tones will look out for you,” Rhodey said. “And I think he agrees. He’d rather die than not have you in his life. He risked it to win his alpha challenge at least.”
“I know,” Peter said, sad again. “I wanted to tell him not to, but he was so confident it would work and the numbers did look good. That sort of thing though, it changes more than just your DNA.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing he has you to guide him through it,” Rhodey said, tone firm and final. Peter gave him a trembling smile and got back to work. There wasn’t much he wanted, and it all fit in two small bags.
Before they could head back downstairs, Tony was there looking extremely satisfied with himself.
“I didn’t kill him, in case you were concerned,” the alpha said cheerfully, scooping Peter up and nuzzling his neck. “Just made sure he realized who had the real power here. Promise.”
Peter giggled and nuzzled back, sliding his hands around the alpha for stability.
“I believe you,” Peter murmured, placing gentle kisses where he could reach. “Can we go now?”
“Of course, Cerbiatto,” Tony said, stealing one last kiss from Peter before starting to carry him back down the hall towards the door. Peter quickly wrapped his legs around the alpha and melted into Tony as the man slid his hands under Peter to hold him more comfortably. Peter saw Rhodey trailing behind, a fond look of exasperation on his face even as he carried Peter’s bags for him.
Peter hid his smile in Tony’s neck. He had a feeling his new life was going to be a wild ride but he knew he’d be happy in it. His mate would make sure of that.
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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
Text
Spilled Pearls
- Chapter 22 - ao3 -
Lan Qiren woke in a bed, which was not a surprise. His favorite blanket – the one Wen Ruohan had bought for him – was tucked in around him, and this was also not a surprise.
He was in the Nightless City, which was.
“How…?”
“Your brother gave permission,” Wen Ruohan said, and Lan Qiren twisted his head in surprise, not having seen him sitting there at the desk beside the bed. Wen Ruohan was writing something, his brush movement steady and unhurried; it was a distinct contrast to the seething rage lingering in his voice. “Since I know you care about that.”
“Of course I care,” Lan Qiren said blankly. “He really gave permission?”
Wen Ruohan’s brush paused. “Are you suggesting that I’m lying?”
Lan Qiren considered it for a moment, then said, a little helplessly, “It seems more likely than him agreeing to cut my punishment short.”
Wen Ruohan snorted, and put his brush down. “I insisted,” he said, and the smug curl of his smile suggested it had been more than a casual conversation. “Anyway, he didn’t want a fuss.”
Naturally not, as He Kexin might object, Lan Qiren thought to himself, and shook his head at his own bitterness. He realized a moment later that it didn’t hurt to do that.
“How long did I sleep?” he asked, alarmed. The transit to the Nightless City was long, unless someone decided to waste vast amounts of qi flying by sword – which he could see Wen Ruohan doing – but the staves used for the Lan sect’s more severe discipline were not like those used for more mundane offenses. While they weren’t on par with a discipline whip, they were still made of spiritual wood, infused with qi; the injuries they left would not heal so quickly.
“I applied medicine,” Wen Ruohan said, rising to his feet and coming over to sit by Lan Qiren’s side on the bed, helping him sit up. “You’re not healed, only numb…I understand you’ve been having difficulties in your sect for some time, and that was even before the lady attacked you in an effort to frame you for her own rape.”
“I’m fairly sure she just wanted to show my brother that she wasn’t interested in him,” Lan Qiren said, wincing. He would not have phrased it quite like that, although thinking it over, it did seem to be a fair way to describe it, if an uncomplimentary one. “It’s not a stretch to think that picking his less impressive brother over him would do it.”   
Wen Ruohan’s lips curled into a sneer. “Truly, an ingenious mind. Did she think herself so attractive that no man would ever deny her?”
That, or else she’d been truly desperate. Lan Qiren could sympathize with her to that extent. After all, do not take advantage of your position to oppress others was a rule for a reason, and the power and influence a Great Sect could bring to bear against a rogue cultivator was not nothing. But his sympathy ended at the point where she’d decided it was acceptable to harm him in order to achieve her goal – even looking at her actions in the best possible light and assuming that she sincerely thought he would participate willingly in her plan, she’d made all sorts of assumptions and hadn’t bothered to verify anything before acting on them. 
He Kexin might be free and unrestrained, as his brother had described her, but she was also perilously reckless, and selfish, too.
Still, at the same time Lan Qiren thought about Wen Ruohan’s smirk when he mentioned his ‘insistence’ with his brother – he wasn’t sure if it involved physical violence or not, although the mental image of such a confrontation was oddly satisfying – and grimaced at the thought of the same sort of pressure being brought to bear on someone without a Great Sect’s protection. “About - He Kexin…”
“You needn’t concern yourself for the lady’s sake,” Wen Ruohan said, and his tone was a little unpleasant. “Even after all that, she permitted herself to be convinced by one of her friends that the advantages of receiving Qingheng-jun’s affections outweighed the disadvantages, despite her own better instincts; that seems punishment enough for the moment. Someone who does not hesitate to blind themselves at the say-so of another will reap the reward they deserve in the end…”
He shook his head, and smiled once more, displaying a glint of teeth. 
“You may take comfort that I took no action against her. However, I did suggest that the lady in question consider avoiding Qishan on her future travels.”
Lan Qiren felt something warm pricking his heart. “The thought is appreciated, although unnecessary. The one whose conduct is in the wrong is my brother.”
He’d appreciate an apology from He Kexin, whether for misjudging him or ignoring his refusals, but he wouldn’t hold out hope for it.
“I can be angry at more than one person at once,” Wen Ruohan said. A strange expression flitted over his features. “I admit, I would have thought Lao Nie would have done something about the entire situation sooner. Even if you weren’t writing to me, why didn’t you write to him?”
“I did,” Lan Qiren said. “His initial reply was – unsatisfactory.”
Lao Nie had responded rather casually to Lan Qiren’s message laying out the situation with his brother and He Kexin, speaking light-heartedly of the burning ardor of first love; he had assured Lan Qiren that it was normal to feel troubled by the thought of being left behind, even when the relationship was not good, and that his brother would probably resurface from his infatuation a happier person in the end. It was fairly evident that he hadn’t read all of Lan Qiren’s carefully composed letter.
“I asked him to come by the Lan sect,” he added. “But he was otherwise occupied.”
Wen Ruohan pressed his lips together in irritation. “He’s been otherwise occupied for some time now. You’re not the only one whose letters he’s disregarded.”
“Even you?” Lan Qiren said wonderingly. “But he likes you so much.”
The tightness in Wen Ruohan’s face eased a little. “I’ve asked him to visit here on account of your health,” he said. “I expect to see him arrive in his usual ridiculous flurry of temper and hen-like concern soon enough – once he reads the letter, anyway.”
Lan Qiren nodded, then hesitated. “The last time I was here…”
Wen Ruohan gazed at him sidelong.
Lan Qiren bit his lip. “I understand that I overstepped –”
“Don’t apologize.”
Lan Qiren stopped.
Wen Ruohan looked irritated again. “Don’t apologize,” he said again. “Are you not my little brother? If you cannot scold me, who is there that lives who can? I am not Qingheng-jun.”
Lan Qiren wasn’t entirely sure how the two were connected.
“If you want to make it up to me, go back to the way you addressed me before,” Wen Ruohan added.
Lan Qiren frowned, confused. “How do you mean?”
“Call me da-ge. Not xiongzhang.”
“…the latter is more polite.”
“So is listening to your elders,” Wen Ruohan said haughtily. “As you’re so fond of saying, it’s what I asked.”
“All right, da-ge,” Lan Qiren said obediently, and Wen Ruohan looked pleased.
“Rest,” he ordered, rising to his feet. “There will be dinner soon, and perhaps we can play weiqi once again…is there anything else you need for your room?”
Lan Qiren’s room in the Nightless City was very similar to the room Wen Ruohan had prepared for him in the Cloud Recesses; he couldn’t think of anything else he might need. Except only…
“I don’t suppose you could ask your spies to check in on my rooms back home,” Lan Qiren said, even as he settled back down to rest as instructed. “There was a painting there that you gifted to me that I liked a lot. It fell during the fight, and I haven’t been back since. I don’t want it thrown away.”
“Which one? I got you several…the mountain pass? The flowering tree?”
“No, the landscape with the rolling hills,” Lan Qiren said, and Wen Ruohan, who had been about to leave, stopped abruptly by the door. “It’s a little burned at the edges; you can’t really mistake it for anything else.”
“You liked that one?” Wen Ruohan’s voice was strange, full of some emotion that Lan Qiren was too tired to even try to decipher. “Above the others? The quality is much less, and the skill with the brush inferior.”
“The person who painted it was happy,” Lan Qiren explained. “There’s an echo of the painter’s residual qi trapped in the ink, you can tell a little bit about who they were from that. Whoever it was, they were brash and bold, arrogant and carefree – full of potential, like a phoenix about to alight to a higher branch. Their soul was like a falcon’s, tied down by nothing. Looking at it is an inspiration, and a comfort. I use it sometimes as a focus for meditation.”
“…I’ll have my spies check,” Wen Ruohan said, and he must be truly perturbed by Lan Qiren’s punishment-induced injuries if he had actually just admitted to having spies in the Cloud Recesses. “In the meantime, I have several other works by the same…artist. If you’d like.”
“Oh, very much!” Lan Qiren said enthusiastically; he tried to struggle up to sit again, but he started to feel pain even through the numbness of the anesthetic he’d been dosed with. Wen Ruohan glared him back down, and he yielded meekly, knowing that he was in no state to be really protesting. “Thank you, da-ge. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
Wen Ruohan huffed and put a hand behind his back, sweeping out the door like a gust of wind.
Lan Qiren lay back down, staring up at the ceiling.
Are you really going to do this? he wondered. Will you really forgive him for what he has done, for what he is, just because you desperately need support? What happened to your principles? Your rules?
He exhaled hard, almost a sigh. He still wasn’t all right with the torture, still thought it was wrong for a man to exult in the pain of others in such a grotesque fashion, but he’d gone back to his standby, the rules, and he was reminded brutally that they were designed to function as guides for the self, not for the world. You were supposed to embrace the entirety of the world, to shoulder the burden of morality, to refuse to tolerate evil – and yet the rules of hospitality, of host and guest, of neighbors, were ranked just as high.
He could choose to continue to hold back, to express his disdain of Wen Ruohan’s ways with distance and reserve, but it wouldn’t stop Wen Ruohan from doing what he wanted anyway, and it would leave Lan Qiren even more isolated and friendless than he was already.
It would be better to compromise.
And yet – it was hard, perilously hard, to force himself to do so. It was one of his flaws, he knew: how uncompromising he was, how unyielding, how bitterly he held onto his opinions, refusing to change, especially when he thought he was right.
For his own sake, he needed to try to do so. But he also needed to at least try to salvage his conscience, too.
He’d have to find a way to do both.
So decided, Lan Qiren reserved the issue of how he would do that in the back of his mind, returning to sleep. It would be easier, he thought, to resolve the issue in the morning, once he’d healed up a little more.
It wasn’t, but that was mostly because he was horrified to discover that he had no proper clothing.
“You have clothing that fits,” Wen Ruohan replied, the mildness of his voice failing to conceal the glint of amusement in his eyes. “It’s even in your clan’s colors. What’s the problem?”
“It’s too much,” Lan Qiren insisted, shaking the clothing at him. He had at least been left his inner robes, though he felt naked without the extra layer. “My formal clothing is less excessive than this!”
“That is surely a matter for your sect, isn’t it? I don’t think it’s excessive.”
“You have no sense of proportion!”
Wen Ruohan shrugged. “I can send for something else,” he said. “Even from your home, if you like. By regular post, it should only take a week or so to arrive.”
Lan Qiren scowled.
“If you really prefer, you’re welcome to walk around naked until then –”
Lan Qiren was so aggravated that he actually hissed at him, surprising Wen Ruohan into a laugh that interrupted his words, and returned to his room to begrudgingly put on the robes. They were white and silver, his usual preference – not interwoven with blue, but that wasn’t a surprise, given that white was a secondary color for the Wen sect as well as the Lan – but they were also ridiculously overwrought: embroidered brocade, silks so fine that they had to be layered in order to not be translucent, studded with shining pearls and what might be actual silver…
“Absurd,” he grumbled, but put on the clothing and came back out. “Do you enjoy tormenting me? Is that it?”
“At times,” Wen Ruohan said, his eyes curved and merry. “Come, sit. It’s your move.”
Lan Qiren permitted himself to succumb to his sworn brother’s atrocious taste for the evening, then stole away to the laundry room the first chance he could, determined to beg for a set of clothing that was somewhat more normal – even mourning clothing would be acceptable, as long as it was neither Wen sect nor horribly garish.
Wen Ruohan found him there, arguing spiritedly with the tailor, and whisked him back to his rooms on account of Lan Qiren’s injuries, arguing, correctly, that Lan Qiren was on the verge of collapsing and coughing up blood from having been a bit too enthusiastic.
Eventually, after some of what Lan Qiren called reasoned debate and what Wen Ruohan called flagrant sulking, Wen Ruohan agreed to get him something a little more normal to wear on the condition that he wear at least one adornment of Wen Ruohan’s choosing along with it.
“You secretly wanted to play with dolls as a child,” Lan Qiren said accusingly, even though the initial adornment – a belt loop made from moonstone and jade – was entirely appropriate, even by Lan sect standards. “You were denied the chance then, and now you make it everyone else’s problem. Is that it?”
“Perhaps,” Wen Ruohan said. “It’s been so long, how would I remember?”
Lan Qiren rolled his eyes and gamely lost to him at weiqi a few more times.
It was perilously easy to slip back into the comfortable camaraderie that they’d developed on his last visit, he reflected as he prepared for bed that evening. It was something he enjoyed - something they both enjoyed - and if Lan Qiren only kept his opinions to himself, convinced himself to actually bend for once, he might be able to actually keep it, this time. 
The next morning, he went to the extensive library kept by the Wen sect and took down several books on anatomy, carefully copying out the goriest parts of it in his best calligraphy; he wasn’t an inspired painter like the nameless ancient that had done the pictures that now hung in his room here, but he excelled at dry and lifeless copies, which was about what you wanted from an anatomy text.
He finished the small booklet within a few days, and gave it to Wen Ruohan one evening before dinner.
“What’s this?” Wen Ruohan asked, flipping through it with a slightly bemused expression. “Medicine?”
“Anatomy,” Lan Qiren corrected. “Since you – like that sort of thing. It’s a gift.”
Wen Ruohan blinked very deliberately. “Little Lan,” he said, staring down at one of the more explicit illustrations. “Did you get me a gift to help me torture people better?”
“I got you a gift because you’re my sworn brother, and you’re taking care of me,” Lan Qiren said with as much dignity as he could muster in light of the patheticness of his abject surrender. “I got you this gift because it seemed relevant to your interests. Anyway, it’s not something I can share, or even really countenance – and in all honesty I would prefer that you not do it while I’m around, or at minimum try not to mention it to me, to make it easier to look the other way – I mean, it’s not going to be easy, but easier – well, my scruples aren’t important. It’s something that matters to you, so I’ll just –”
Wen Ruohan cleared his throat, interrupting him. “You don’t need to worry about that,” he said, looking at the space above Lan Qiren’s head for some reason. “The Fire Palace has had trouble keeping my interest recently; the entertainment has gone stale. I have moved on.”
Lan Qiren had not expected that, and he smiled happily, his pricked conscience unexpectedly granted a reprieve. For some reason, it made Wen Ruohan stare at him.
“Well, I’m happy to hear that you’re not torturing people for sport any longer,” Lan Qiren told him, in case it wasn’t clear. “As for the booklet, even if it’s not quite right for your interests right now, I still hope you enjoy the work...I’ll get you a better gift next time.”
“No need to strain yourself,” Wen Ruohan said. “I will be pleased no matter what it is, I’m sure.”
He gestured for Lan Qiren to enter the dining room first, which Lan Qiren did. Oddly enough, despite his cliché and rather condescending reassurances, Wen Ruohan looked especially pleased throughout dinner, almost as if he really meant what he’d said.
It was nice, Lan Qiren thought, to be liked. One could get used to it.
His injuries were healing very well, between the medicines Wen Ruohan’s doctors plied him with – Lan Qiren attempted not to calculate the value of them, certain that they were probably worth more than a small sect’s heirloom treasure – and the rich spiritual energy Wen Ruohan insisted on infusing him with, morning and night. Lan Qiren tried to protest that the latter was unnecessary, but Wen Ruohan had stood on his rights as the host, and at any rate he simply had so much qi that the effort seemed not to wear on him at all. So Lan Qiren let him keep doing it, Wen Ruohan’s warm hands conveying warm qi as he spoke to him of various matters, important and trifling, and Lan Qiren – liked it.
“In the Nightless City, we release lanterns several times a year, not just on the Lantern Festival,” Wen Ruohan murmured into Lan Qiren’s ear as he sat there, eyes growing heavy as his rules-mandated bedtime approached. “It’s a celebration of the sun as our sect’s sigil. The lanterns come in all shapes and sizes and colors, and we light the flames with spiritual energy. There’s a day not far from now where we will do it; people are making preparations already. Your body is still stiff and unbending, your wounds still healing – you’ll be here to see it.”
Lan Qiren nodded.
“Good,” Wen Ruohan said. “Very good…ah, little Lan, what a strange thing you are. When you were gone, I thought of you often no matter what I wished. I thought that I could cure it by having you here, but now you are here before me, every day, and yet I think of you no less. It seems that seeing you every day does not cause me to tire of you.”
“Yes, you’re very easily amused,” Lan Qiren said, his eyes sliding shut as the warm qi circulated through his body. “I think we long ago established that.”
“Is there any feature of yours that you actually like, little Lan? Or is it all self-depreciation?”
“I have a good brain,” Lan Qiren said. “I’m creative and analytical, and I explain things well; I make for a decent or even accomplished teacher. My musical ability is good, both in terms of playing and composition. Also, I’m informed that my face is first rate.”
Wen Ruohan laughed behind his shoulder. “I stand corrected.”
When they parted that night, all was well.
The peace did not last until morning.
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everythingsinred · 2 years
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Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 24)
Hello, friends. The story is rapidly approaching an end. I imagine I'll only be posting for another couple weeks (maybe three at the most) before this essay draws to a close.
Last night we wrapped up the Time Travel Arc. Now we return to the larger parent arc, the Escape Arc. Mikan has made up her mind to escape the school with her mother, and although this breaks Natsume's heart, he'll do all he can to get her out safely without at all complaining. If she's leaving for good, then the only thing that matters to him for the next little bit is keeping her as safe as possible. After that, he's resigned himself to a lonely and imminent death... And then Mikan has an epiphany.
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Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Four
They’re finally all back in the present. The room they left is now empty, and they wonder what happened. Undoubtedly the situation is more pressing than ever.
Mikan is concerned about everyone’s safety, but Natsume makes it clear that the priority is making sure she can make it out of the academy with her mother. If she’s going to leave, then he will do everything he can to make sure the process goes as smoothly and safely for her as possible. Her concerns about everyone else have no place here when everyone’s dreams and futures are threatened by the ESP if he ever gets his hands on Mikan’s alices. Besides, his happiness and safety always come dead last to him. He’d act and speak this way, even if it was only Mikan’s well-being on the line.
He will protect her no matter what happens, he says. That’s his priority. This is no different than the way he’s been living for the last year or so.
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Yeah, there's the whole thing with the school and protecting the student body and stopping the ESP but Mikan is his priority always.
Everyone else agrees, and Mikan is outvoted. She comes first now.
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Seven
Mikan and her friends run into a horde of students, either controlled by Luna’s alice or afraid that they’ll end up being controlled or punished. They all move to attack Mikan in particular, to capture her because maybe they’ll even be rewarded for it.
This is a mistake, because Natsume will not allow anything to happen to her. He uses his alice to fend off the students, but his fire takes a strange shape, unlike anything he’s ever made before. His ability to manipulate the shape better than ever is a result of the stone Mikan inserted into him, which Tsubasa theorizes is psychokinesis.
Ruka pleads with him to stop, concerned about Natsume’s health the more he uses his alice. He immediately stops on the behest of his best friend, but then he uses his new alice to pull everyone over closer to him. Mikan specifically flies into his arms, where he wanted her. He’s able to catch her, whereas the others land on their heads. Now that they’re safer, he tells her to teleport them.
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Who cares where the rest of them land? They can deal with it on their own.
Tsubasa comments that this extra power makes Natsume feel like more of a man, more powerful. This isn’t a farfetched theory. We know how much Natsume wants to grow up, to have power. Now that he has this extra alice, he’s more useful than he already was, and that naturally translates into some extra confidence.
Another thing is that Natsume is putting his all into getting Mikan out safe. He’s willing to expend all his energy and alice in order to accomplish his goal. Adding on to that, he knows he won’t see her again after this. He can hold on for a little longer, but to survive the unknowable amount of years before he can see her again? Unlikely. He doubted he’d even be able to graduate, let alone be on standby for possibly a decade and maybe even more. He has no reason to believe he’ll make it. So he keeps her close now. He’ll be right by her side ‘til the very end, take advantage of every touch and interaction he can. So even if everyone else collapses onto the ground after he uses his extra alice, Mikan will land safely in his arms.
Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Nine
Natsume may have spared Nobara earlier, but he still doesn’t really trust her. She’s been acting weird this whole time and he’s suspicious. When they have a moment, he confronts her, warning her that if she sells them out to Persona, he won’t go easy on her. After all, to him, she’s still the girl who’s always been Persona’s little pet.
But Nobara doesn’t want to sell them out. She wants to stop Persona and her DA friends from hurting the cause and themselves. She wants to stop them so they don’t become a part of the fight.
She stands back so she doesn’t teleport again with the rest of them. She wants to do this for Mikan.
Mikan doesn’t understand. She’s concerned that she left Nobara behind, so she says she’ll go back to get her, but Natsume stops her. She needs to allow Nobara to make her own choice. Even if Mikan doesn’t get it, the only thing that matters is their original mission. Nothing will change that. He won’t be strayed from it, no matter what obstacles come their way. Nobara made the choice, and she’s the best person to confront the DA class. The rest of them should allow her to do as she wants.
They move forward, and Natsume keeps back when he feels his coughing fit coming on. Now that everything is dire, he definitely doesn’t want to slow things down by worrying people with his body. He worries that he won’t be able to properly protect Mikan, considering the shape he’s in, but he would never say that out loud.
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Death creeps ever closer... Why isn't he ever concerned for himself?
Even more, Nobara stressed before she left that Natsume was the most important person to stay by Mikan's side, that he should protect her to the end. Though he wouldn't be so bold to say that about himself, he wants to stay 'til the end. But the fact that he might die at any moment doesn't reassure him. However, any insecurities or fears he has must stay in his mind. He wants to be strong for Mikan, to accomplish their goal and keep her safe. He’s pushed any and all feelings of his own out the window. All that matters is their goal.
He can die afterwards.
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Four
Mikan needs to go to her mother. She and Ruka are to teleport to Yuka, since Ruka has the barrier alice and he can keep her safe. The rest of them are going to hold off the Fuukitai and other enemies. There’s really no time for heartfelt goodbyes. Natsume might never see Mikan again, but he turns away because there’s no time for anything else. He will fight off the enemies to keep her safe. That’s what he can do. Anything else will just waste precious time.
Except that Mikan has the telepathy alice now. She’s mostly kept it a secret, sharing it with Hotaru and nobody else.
Natsume can stay silent all he wants, but his heart and mind are racing with thoughts and feelings. She couldn’t ignore it if she wanted to. It’s not the time to be lollygagging. She has to get going, and everyone is urging her to move on and teleport with Ruka, but she’s hesitating.
And then Natsume hears it too. She’s saying it back, telepathically, that she loves him too.
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Terrible timing, Mikan. You had all night to say it back! (joking)
It’s all he’s never allowed himself to want to hear. Something that would only happen in a delusional fantasy world. Mikan may care about him, to some degree, but he’d never expected she would love him back. She should love Ruka, who is kind and polite, or literally anybody else. He’s always had to push her away, and even if she saw through his insults to see what he really meant, he still wouldn’t be good enough. He can’t be with her, because his life is running out. He shouldn’t be with her, because all he will do is cause her more pain. He’ll never be with her, because he doesn’t deserve to be. He won’t be with her, because she’s running away with her mother and he’ll never see her again.
But she loves him too anyway.
Despite every insult and attempt to keep his distance. Despite their beginnings of mutual disdain. Despite how he’s said he hated everything about her, about how he wanted her out of his sight. Despite acting like she was a pest and nothing more than an annoyance. Despite everything he did, she somehow still loves him.
It’s the worst thing to ever happen to him, to stand there and hear her saying that in his mind and then watch her disappear forever.
He’s said it out loud only one time. He confessed with his kiss at Christmas, with his alice stone, with the borrowing race, with his speech to the ESP. He’s confessed with every time he got in front of her to protect her, with every cruel word forced out of him by the higher ups, with every smile he had just for her.
Now she finally said it back and it’s too late for anything. He can’t kiss her and show her how much he means it, how much it isn’t just hype over nothing. He can’t tell her he loves her to her face and with his whole chest. He can’t take her by the hand and run away with her. He can’t live happily ever after with her.
That was all okay before, when it was just him who was suffering. So his life would be lonely and short. Okay. Who cares? But now he knows she wants all that too.
He’s miserable. He calls out to her but it’s too late. She’s gone now and all he can do is fight the enemies who want to threaten her security.
Natsume has been left behind with Tono and Tsubasa to fight as hard as they can against the Fuukitai. When they finally get away for a moment, Tono tells them to fight for the girls they love. Tsubasa and Natsume both berate him for this, because who was he talking about? Tono argues it wasn’t about him; he was just trying to cheer the two up after they had to break apart from their girls.
Natsume is clearly in emotional turmoil, but he frequently is, so he doesn’t let it show a lot. He may threaten Tono with his alice or tease him with Tsubasa like all is normal, but it’s not. His current circumstances couldn’t be any worse unless Mikan were in danger, and he’s doing everything he can to keep that from happening.
Tono finally admits that he’s been nervous this whole time because Noda is probably the traitor among them, but Natsume realizes the truth: It’s Goshima.
Tsubasa and Tono are going to try and find Goshima, who has the key Yuka and Mikan need to escape. They also need someone to go and tell them that Goshima can’t be trusted, and Tono wants Natsume to do it.
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Five
Tono is urging Natsume to go and tell Mikan about Goshima, to go protect her. Naturally, he doesn’t hesitate before taking off. Any excuse to see her again and keep her safe is enough for him.
Tsubasa doesn’t understand why Tono sent him off, though, since Natsume is in such bad shape. Having him run and exert himself further seems wrong.
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I just want him to be happy. Is that really so much to ask?
Tono puts it all into perspective. It had to be Natsume. The kid was in a state of absolute misery, even knowing his love is requited and perhaps because of it. He can never see Mikan again. His life will end. The rest of them can talk about decades and decades into the future and still be sure that they will meet Mikan again, but it’s clear that Natsume won’t make it that far. As Tono puts it, it’s important that Natsume has a chance to see her for the last time, to say good-bye properly.
Natsume would go to her no matter what, too, and he does, running with all his might to find her, even though he’s coughing and his body is breaking.
He will use his alice and do anything he can to find her and tell her and keep her safe, and they finally meet again.
He’s standing over the bodies of enemies that he’s just defeated for her, and he finally has a chance to say the good-bye he thought he’d never get.
There are other things that need to be said, but he might not have a chance to say his feelings again if he doesn’t take the opportunity now. He’s sad, because no matter what, their story will end soon. But this is more than he could’ve asked for.
But all of the words that should come out of his mouth don’t. He doesn’t talk about the traitor. He doesn’t tell her he loves her to her face. He doesn’t say anything except her name. None of the feelings he has can be put into words. For the moment he’s speechless.
She is too. She rushes into his arms and they share a quick second of holding each other before they inevitably part forever. The fact that she hugs him might have reminded him that she loves him too. Then again, how could he forget? Either way, he finds the words that were lost to him before.
He’s going to stay with her until the very last second. He won’t leave her or part from her for even a moment again until they have to say good-bye for good.
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No, they won't last. She'll leave and he'll die, but they have this moment, even if it's the only thing they'll ever have.
No, he doesn’t mention the traitor even though he was sent to. Natsume very rarely talks about his feelings, but they felt so important this time that he had to say them out loud.
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Six
Even though Natsume didn’t say it to Mikan, Shiki got the information from him via telepathy and then conveyed the information to Yuka.
Now that Yuka and Mikan are reunited, they can all go to see them off, fighting Fuukitai and Luna along the way. Narumi and Mikan are trapped in an enemy’s ice alice for a moment, until Natsume melts the ice and takes Mikan’s hand. He wasn’t joking about staying by her side until the very end.
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Until the very last moment.
Sure, she needed to reunite with her mother and Narumi, but they’ll be spending forever with her after this night. He only has these next few minutes. He’ll be the one to take her by the hand until he has no choice but to let go. Until then, he will stay by her side.
Lucky for them, Yuka’s plan to wait until the last moment for the key so they can leave with Naru panned out. “Tsubasa” arrives with the key and hands it off. There’s no time to waste; Yuka rushes to open the warp-hole but all that comes from it is an explosion.
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Seven
Yuka and Narumi were caught in the blast. Yuka shielded Narumi with her body and took the brunt of the hit. She’s now in critical condition.
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No hesitation. That's his only keepsake from his mother, his only reprieve from endless pain, but he'll give it Yuka because he can't not give it to her.
Natsume doesn’t hesitate, and he gives Mikan the healing alice stone that his mother got from Yuka. Yuka is Mikan’s mother. Her death would be crushing for Mikan, who’s already had to face so much trauma from watching her father die too. This all was about getting Mikan and Yuka out safely, and all that effort would be in vain if Yuka dies. And after Natsume has seen everything that happened in the past, he respects Yuka too. All Yuka has ever done is suffer, just like he has. To simply die after all that--he doesn’t want that either. Yuka gave his mother that alice stone, something that brought him a little reprieve whenever he had a coughing fit or felt ill. The least he can do now is give it back.
But it doesn’t work. It’s not enough. Yuka has enough time before her death to hug Mikan and apologize to Luna, but then her heart stops.
Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Eight
The ESP arrives to break the period of mourning. Luna can’t believe that he would orchestrate this, but it’s not much of a surprise to anyone else. The “Tsubasa” decoy reveals himself to be Goshima, who holds Mikan by the wrists. The ESP only needed one person with the stealing alice. Yuka had become extendable, so he eliminated her.
Goshima goes to surrender Mikan to the ESP, but she fights, and Natsume moves to fight too, because that’s his girlfriend and he promised he would keep her safe. But the ESP always has the barrier alice cast on him, always protected, even from Natsume’s strong alice. Even Natsume can’t help Mikan now.
But Shiki breaks the ESP’s barrier and Mikan rushes to her friends’ side.
Z is invading the school and threatening to take the students captive. The MSP needs her successor, Shiki to be appointed so that he can protect the school with his barrier alice. The ESP is in a bind. Shiki can either run away with Mikan as Yuka had intended to, or he will agree to stay and act as the MSP to protect the school.
Conclusion
God this arc is a mess when all you want are the NM moments. How dare they be so scattered! Anyways, Natsume now knows that Mikan loves him too, romantically, but everything has been upside down for a while, specifically tonight, so the future doesn't look bright. In the next part, we'll talk about how Natsume feels about being separated from Mikan when she's locked away.
Sorry this is late. I'm not in a fantastic mood today which affected my motivation. I shoved a bunch of content in here and it might be too much. I don't know. There wasn't a clear way I could cut it into multiple parts without them being choppy and short as hell. I just wanted to get to the next part because this arc was stressing me out.
In any case, I feel like crap right now emotionally, because this day was very draining. I'll try to post tomorrow at a reasonable time. Thank you for reading.
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HASO “The Best Outcome.”
Just wrapping up a few loose ends from the past few months stories. I hope you all like it. And feel free to give me some ideas on what you want to see, or who you want to see more of. I will try to do my best :) 
Breaking News tonight from the Apollo 11 memorial landing site as Admiral Adam Vr and Captains Warren Richarards and Mary Chavez were rescued  from the Pacific Ocean following a journey that was supposed to be historical, turned harrowing. Amy Grey comes to us this morning with the story.
Thank you Julie, it was only a week ago here on the historic Cape Canaveral launch site, that the reconstructed Saturn V rocket was launched by the UNSC International Space and Aeronautics Division on the two thousand and fifty first anniversary of the original Apollo 11 mission. On board The reconstructed rocket were astronauts Fleet Admiral Adam Vir head of the UNSC deep space exploration division, Captain Warren Richards five year veteran and historical aeronautics expert, and Mary Chavez six year shuttle pilot veteran, and communications specialist. 
The reconstructed Saturn V rocket took off thirty minutes behind schedule at 10:03 GMTJuly 16 after delays attributed to engineering standbys. However, reports by UNSC investigation early this morning indicate that the delays were called for by engineering head Jade Clein who noticed something strange during her final checks of the Saturn V recreated rocket. In an interview early today, flight director, Aaliyah Seif of the Apollo re-creation mission informed outlets that there was evidence of attempted tampering on the hull of the Saturn V rocket. The tampering case in the shape of these small silver tape strips covering loosened bolts along one of the Saturn V side panels. Engineers stated that the tape was not heat resistant and would have burned off in time to rattle the bolts loose and, likely, cause a devastating spin that would destroy the rocket.
While this attempted tampering was thwarted, the mission would only become more dire. A sudden and shocking report by Mericanda News 5 showed an uncut image of an unknown alien hybrid woman claiming that the UN President had ordered th attempted assassination of Admiral Vir, in conjuncton with an audio recording by Admiral Colter Massie, Head of the Galactic intelligence division an known isolationist, that admitted to the attempted assasination of Admiral Vir, and the acquisition of twenty thunderhawks which were used to harry the Satern V on it’s way to the moon. Admiral Kelly, long time friend of Admiral Vir, corroborated the story, saying she caught General Massie just after he ordered the deployment of the twenty thunderhawks. During their conversion he attempted to kill her before being detained by two members of Admiral Vir’s crew, and was later seen being escorted into custody by Military Police.
Indeed footage has been captured from the hull of the Saturn V showing approximately twenty thunderhawks attempting to destroy the rocket while Rundi remote piloted drones and an unknown group of what appear to be racing jets, fought back to delay the attack while word was sent to the UNSC to deploy F-90 darkfire pilots to assist. This all after communications between Houston and the rocket were sabotaged shortly after leaving orbit. The  F-90 darkfire pilots were able to arrive on time to rescue the rocket, though a hole was reportedly torn in the hull sucking Admiral Vir out into space, though he was later recovered and returned to his ship without any injuries. Patch teams were then able to repair the torn hull and the astronauts completed their mission landing to crowds on the moon and returning to earth on time on time landing in the Pacific ocean only nine miles away from the waiting ship.
All three astronauts were recovered and are reported to be in good health. 
The investigation into the UN president’s involvement is still ongoing at this time, however preliminary reports from the Global Bureau of Investigation suggest evidence is both staggering and damning to the current UN president, who earlier today, attempted to cut all ties to the sabotage efforts saying she was framed. Political experts report that, even assuming her innocence, she will likely not last to the end of her term.
International News Network was able to interview Admiral Vir shortly after his landing while still on board the rescuing ship UNSS Victory.
Here is what the Admiral had to say.
“I find it…. Really very disheartening that someone we all trusted, and someone that we all should have looked up to could do something like this. It really is a heinous demonstration of what political corruption can lead people to do.”
“And how do you feel, personally about all of this.”
“Personally, I…. well to be honest I am hurt and appalled. Not to mention that I fear for the safety of my family and my friends. Every day I wonder if my involvement with them is going to get someone I love killed…. The thought haunts me, but I hope after all of this is over I… and all of us can breathe a little easier.”
“Were you scared?”
“I don’t think that even needs to be a question. Of course I was scared, getting sucked out of your spaceship isn’t ideal.”
“What do you hope will happen now?”
“I hope that justice can be upheld  to those who deserve it.”
“What do you have to say to the UN president.”
“I have nothing to say. Wouldn’t want to waste the air.
****
What followed would be one of the largest scandals in recent political history. At some point an unknown number of classified government documents was leaked onto the internet, and after that it was all over for the Presidency. Thousands of enterprising humans, and aliens alike, viewed the documents to discover all the underhanded and dirty things which had been going on in the UN governmental body over the past few years. Forensic accounting experts (mostly Tesrtaki) uncovered plenty of fiscal tampering  which shed light on plenty of isolationist related projects and bank accounts. There was even evidence that they had something to do with the original assassination attempt against Admiral Vir so many months ago. The drama had even managed to capture the attention of Rundi political experts and Vrul computer science geniuses, and together they unearthed a world of unfathomable, but not unexpected corruption. The process to remove the UN president from office was probably one of the fastest movements of human government ever seen by UN congressional leaders, who were likely trying their very best tro distance themselves from association with the president, who despite not being the only one involved, had become the political scapegoat for everyone else that had a supposed link with isolationism.
Even the VP fell under suspicion and was watched closely for the rest of his term.
Admiral Massie and the UN President were placed under arrest and set up for court dates in the nearing future, though everyone saw a long and arduous litigation process ahead. Even Ramirez’s family had filed for damages against the government after the news came to light confirming that their son had been shot as collateral in one of the UN presidents plans to assassinate Admiral Vir. They settled out of court to the tune of an unknown, but impressive sum of money.
No one really knew how much, but a couple months later Ramirez’s younger sister was seen training at one of the most prestigious olympic academies on earth.
Ramirez himself was suddenly able to afford housing on the moon in a condo just next door to his best friend, though no one else inquired further.
The Rundi chairwoman came forward with her own investigation admitting to being suspicious for a long time though she feared accusations without proper proof. Admiral Vir was seen having lunch with her not so many months after the events took place, suggesting that the trust between the two of them had not been completely dissolved. With much of the isolationist element gone from government, public policy began to lean heavily towards integration with the alliance. The occasional isolationist demonstration or protest was held, but none of them managed to gain traction.
Admiral Vir was finding himself more important than ever, though it was to his chagrin that his ship was grounded for the intervening months while the investigation continued.
No one was entirely sure what the future held.
***
Admiral Vir stepped into Admiral Kelly’s office. The last time he had actually visited her here had been over a few years ago before his promotion to captain of the Harbinger. It seemed so distant now, and he never expected to walk into her office with a star on his shoulder. She stood as he entered, and the two of them shook hands, ignoring all the stuffy formalities that usually come with the meeting of two military officers.
The wall behind her was decorated with a myriad of metals and awards she had received over her career, and he couldn't help but note the slight tinge of grey he could see forming in her hair. He knew that feeling, he was going prematurely white much to his chagrin. She stood and the two of them shook hands.
“Vir.”
“Kelly.”
She motioned him to sit and he sat sighing lightly as he had been on his feet all day consulting with political figures and other members of the UNSC.
“A strange couple months wouldn’t you say.”
“Tell me about it.”{
Kelly reached under her desk and withdrew an amber bottle which she placed between them, “I always forget; Do you drink?”
“On occasion.”
“Well consider this an occasion.” She said popping off the top and pouring two glasses for them. She handed his across the desk and he leaned back in his seat cupping the cool glass in both hands.
She swirled the amber liquid around in her glass, “So what are your plans after all this.”
He took a sip of water warmed by the burning liquid, “Hoping things will go back to normal and I can go back to traveling the galaxy.”
Kelly grunted, “A simple man with simple motivations.”
He laughed , “Sometimes I think a stupid man with simple motivations.”
She chuckled then grew serious, “A lot of people make the mistake of assuming simple people don’[t have the intelligence to match. Some people assume that trusting means gullible means dumb. Just because we are trusting and expect others to do the right thing is not necessarily a fault. I believe there is a kind of beauty in assuming the fundamental goodness of humanity.”
\Admiral Vir shook his head, “How can you after seeing what we have seen.”
“How can you not?” She shrugged, “We always knew that politicians were corrupt, but think about everything else we have seen.”
Admiral Vir nodded slowly, “The enthusiasm for the Apollo 11 recreation mission, the people who flew up to help us. All of those people who went digging through years of information just to uncover the truth.”
SHe raised her glass, “Precisely. Goodness in humanity is all around us, but we tend to overlook the good in favor of the bad.” She placed her hat on the desk and sighed, “It is up to good people to keep their goodness going even when it might seem easier to give into the bad. I I have and will always believe in the fundamental good of humanity. Some may call it naeve, or even stupid. Others have said I have a romanticized view of a species that is fundamentally broken.” She turned her head to look out the window a contemplative expression on her face before turning back to look at Adam.
“You understand me, I think.”
He nodded slowly.
“People need to be believed in. You tell someone for long enough that they are fundamentally bad at their core and they will begin to believe you. For thousands of years pessimists have gotten it into our heads that we are no better than animals, worse even since animals don’t fight in wars. But I believe that is wrong, I have seen people, I have met people, and I have interacted with people who prove to me that humanity cannot just be fundamentally bad or else these people wouldn’t exist.” She tapped her nails against the glass, “I think it is easier to corrupt purity than wash away a stain,”
He listened quietly as she continued.
“Humans are born good, Adam, and life stains us. We aren’t born stained while some of us are wiped clean. “ She shook her head, “Doesn't make sense to me.” She caught him with a look pinning him to the spot with her intense stare, “People like you convince me of this every day.”
“Me….”
She held up a hand. “Adam Vir, I am convinced that the best outcome this universe ever had, was when a happy go lucky science fiction freak was lucky enough to be the first man to meet aliens. Any other way things would have gone horribly wrong.” She leaned across her desk, “The universe needs men and women like you, and not only that but the universe needs people who are going to support men and women like you.” She sat back, “Which is why I have made a decision.”
He raised an eyebrow in curiosity not entirely sure where this could be going.
She smiled, “I have decided to run for President.”
He nearly spit his mouthful of expensive scotch onto the table but managed to choke it mostly down.
Eyes wide he set his glass down, “Are you serious.”
She smiled, “Seriously serious.”
“Well shit, you have my vote for sure.” He raised his glass to her, “I couldn’t think of a better outcome.”
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tkstrrand · 3 years
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✨ tarlos fic ✨
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Over the last month I’ve been working on a tarlos enemies to lovers witness protection AU so I wanted to share some of what I’ve got because I have been loving writing this fic! 
So enjoy a small snippet of what is turning out to be a monster fic (we’ve reached 15k folkes)
TK retreated into the seat, his head leaning against the window. The car started and pulled off the curb and down the street.
TK watched as the street lamps soar past, after a moment the scene turned into a blur. TK closed his eyes, his head rocking with the movement of the car.
TK folded his arms on the metal desk, his foot tapping a hole in the floor. He swallowed hard, the sickness barley at bay. No amount of steady breathing could quell the nausea in his stomach or the stabbing headache taking over his entire mind.
He shouldn’t be here.
This shouldn’t be happening.
He should have gone home, he should have just had dinner with his dad.
A cramp rolled through TK’s stomach: his dad. TK hadn’t even phoned his dad, he had no idea TK was currently sitting in a police station. The door swung open, the loud creak pulling TK’s head up, “Hey, Tyler right?” A police officer said, stepping into the room.
“TK,” He corrected, his voice hoarse and sore.
“Apologies,” The man smiled, although TK wasn’t sure he meant it. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?” TK just shook his head, not trusting himself to speak again. The cop sat across from him, a loud sigh leaving his lips, “I know this is scary and you’ve been through a lot today but we’re just here to have a chat and for you to tell me what happened, okay?”
TK clenched his hand harder, pulling his lips together almost like he was scared the truth would slip out. The officer pulled out a notepad and pen, staring at TK, “So, let's start from the beginning, why were you around Downtown Brooklyn?”
TK’s breath quickened, his vision blurring for a moment as he prepared the lie ready on his lips. He should tell the truth, this wasn’t the time to lie. He should tell him the real reason he was around downtown, why he was near that street corner.
TK pulled his head up, his breath halted in his lungs, “Checking in on a friend who lived around there,” The lie was too easy, and it was too late to take it back as the officer wrote it down.
TK gasped, sitting forward in his seat. He could almost taste the sour lie still on his tongue. He curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his body as he eyes started to shut again. TK blinked them open, the fear of being pulled back into the memory keeping him awake.
TK shouldn’t be here.
He shouldn't have been in that room.
He shouldn't be in this car and he certainly shouldn’t be on his way to hide out in a safe house all because he was weak.
“So what do we know about this kid?” Judd asked, staring down at a piece of paper on the wooden table in the centre of the room.
“Well for one he’s not a kid, he’s the same age as us,” Marjan said, coming to sit on the arm of the seat next to Judd.
“Us?” Judd remarked, craning his head up at Marjan who was smiling down at him. “Remind me why we're doing this again?” Judd sighed, slumping down in the chair.
Carlos pushed himself off the sofa, his arms crossed over his chest, “Because I owe Jason a favour and he called it in,” Carlos scrubbed a hand down his face, the early start of today already enough to make him regret offering his help. Well, offering was a stretch. Jason had helped Carlos out on a police case a year ago and in return Carlos had offered his assistants whenever Jason needed; that was apparently today.
“So we’re here because?” Judd asked, Marjan giving him a playful shove. 
“So,” Paul said, pushing himself off the wall, “Tyler Kennedy Strand, star witness in a drug case,” He said, reciting the information from the paper. “That's all we’ve got?” He asked.
Carlos sighed, “Apparently that's all we need to know,” He said. Jason had called him a few days and told him he might need him and his team, for the last few days they had been on standby; till today. “We’ve also got some pictures of known associates of the person on trial,” Carlos had a few files with suspects that could be dangerous and the group needed to watch out for.
Marjan jumped off the seat, walking over to the table and picking up the file, “So we’ve just got to watch him till he gives evidence,” Carlos nodded. It seemed simple, sit in a cabin for a few months with a witness, “Sweet,” Marjan smiled, looking around the group.
Tires pulled outside the house, the noise of the wheels crunching over the gravel catching the group's attention. Carlos walked over to the main door, pushing it open and jogging down the steps.
Jason stepped out of the car, stretching and turning his head side to side.
“Jason,” Carlos said, his hand stretched out. Jason returned the shake, the back door of the SUV being flung open.
“Carlos,” Jason greeted. Carlos stepped back, a man stepping out of the large SUV.
Carlos felt his eyes grow wide for a second. He knew TK was around his age, knew he was a witness and Jason worked for his dad. What had been left out of the file was the way TK’s brown hair was perfectly tousled, that his eyes were a deep green which contrasted against his vibrant yellow hoodie.
Carlos let out a deep breath, “Carlos Reyes this is-”
“I’m sure he already knows everything about me, including my name,” TK snapped, his head cranked to the side to look at Jason, almost like Carlos wasn’t there.
Jason held his neutral expression, “TK this is Carlos,” He said, nodding towards Carlos, his head lifted and he Carlos turned around to see the rest of the group stood at the top of the stairs, “and then there’s Judd, Paul, Marjan,”
Carlos looked back to see TK’s eyes briefly scan the group, landing on Carlos for a fraction longer before he looked back up at the cabin, “Cabin in the middle of nowhere, don’t think that's a little cliche?” He said, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“There going to be watching over you, making sure you’re safe and-”
TK pushed himself off the car, “That I don’t get into trouble, yeah I get it,” He sighed. TK turned around, pulling open the door and grabbing a duffle bag off the back seat. He slammed the door shut, briefly turning to Jason, “Take care,” he harshly said, going to walk past Carlos when Jason reached out and gently gripped TK’s bicep, TK rolling his eyes as he came to a stop. TK turned around to look at Jason, an exasperated look on his face.
“They're in charge here, listen to them,” He said, empasing the last three words. TK shrugged off the man's arm, continuing to walk past Carlos without saying a word to the man or the others. Carlos jumped as he heard the cabin door crash shut.
Jason seemed to deflate for a moment, “As you might be able to tell the kid isn’t thrilled with this,” He said, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“You don’t say,” Judd said from the top of the stairs.
“We’ll keep in contact, let you know if anything changes but if not, you know what to do,” Jason announced to the group. Carlos heard the other members of the group walk back into the house. Carlos went to join them when Jason grabbed his arm, his voice low as he spoke, “Keep him out of trouble,” He said, “It tends to find him, or rather, he finds it,” His words were almost like a warning. Carlos just nodded, Jason giving him a pat on the back before he slid back into his SUV and drove off.
Carlos watched as the cars disappeared, the forest falling silent again. Carlos jogged up the stairs and stepped back into the cabin. TK was slumped down in the large arm chair, the bag plopped down on his feet.
Carlos took a breath, a polite smile on his face, “TK Strand, right?” He greeted, “Look I know this isn’t ideal-”
“Ideal?” The man interrupted, “What, spending the next month in the middle of nowhere with strangers?” TK scoffed, shaking his head, “No this is perfect,” He mocked.
Carlos threw a quick glance at the rest of the group, their brows raised. “Some quick ground rules,”
TK scrubbed his hands down his face, tugging at the ends of his hair, “Look this has been a long day so can we skip the lecture till tomorrow?” As he spoke he stood from the chair, picking his bag up and he started to turn to leave.
Judd stepped in front of him, “This is important,” He said.
TK seemed to think for a moment before slumping back down into the chair.
“You don’t leave the cabin alone, we’ll provide you with phone to use here to call us and only us, no calling your friends-”
“I can’t call my friends?” He called, brows furrowed.
“It could be tracked,” Marjan said, filling in the gap. 
TK gave another laugh, shaking his head, “So what you’re saying is I can’t leave this cabin alone and can only talk to the four of you,” He asked, eyes narrowed, “Perfect,” He scoffed. TK again stood from the chair, slinging the bag over his shoulder, “Should’ve just handed myself over to Donivon, it would have been less painful,” Carlos went to speak when TK continued “That was sarcasm before you lock the house down,” Carlos had to bit his cheek, trying to remain as professional as he could, “Are we done?” TK snapped.
Carlos wanted to say no out of spite, but instead he just nodded, his arm pointing down the hall, “I’ll show you to your room,” Carlos said. TK started to head down the hall and Carlos quickly followed, stepping in front of TK as he lead him to a room at the back of the cabin; the most secure on, “Just in here, there’s an en-suite on the left” He said, the young man giving nothing away with his expression except annoyance. For a moment Carlos was struck by a sense of empathy, he didn’t know much but he knew that TK’s life had been uprooted and he had been left in the middle of nowhere with some strangers. Carlos leaned on the door frame as TK stared into the room, his feet never crossing the threshold. “I get this sucks-”
“You don’t get anything okay,” TK fired back. Carlos could see the way the man’s jaw clenched, he twisted his head to Carlos, a dark expression on his face, “So just skip the whole ‘friendly small talk’ thing because I really don’t care,” TK finally pulled his foot over the threshold of the door.
“Hey,” Carlos called, TK’s head snapping back to look at him, “We’ve got to live together for months, you don’t have to like it, but I would find a way to live with it,” Carlos pushed himself off the wall and started walking back down the hall, trying to level out his breathing as he managed to hold onto his frustration.
He came back into the room, his shoulders slumping, “Well he was something,” Paul said in a hushed voice. Carlos opened his mouth, closing it after a second, not trusting himself to keep it professional.
The sympathy Carlos had had when TK had first arrived was quickly depleting, only a small ember left in his chest. It wasn’t that Carlos wasn’t used to difficult people, he used to be a cop after all. But in the few minutes TK had been in the room, the guy hadn’t managed to say one thing that hadn’t grated Carlos. He walked over to the chair TK had been in, sinking down into it.
“This is going to be a long month,” Judd sighed from across the room, his hands shoved in his pockets.
Carlos closed his eyes wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into.
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chicgeekgirl89 · 3 years
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Requesting Immediate Backup
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Fandom: 911 Lone Star
Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes, Andrea Reyes
Summary: Carlos refuses to admit he's sick. So T.K. is forced to call in some backup. Written for the @badthingshappenbingo​ prompt: This is for Your Own Good.
A/N: I have four other multi-chapter fics to work on so I wrote this instead. It may or may not be based on current and past personal experiences. Special thanks to @bluenet13​ for consulting with me!
Read on AO3
T.K. had never seen his boyfriend in quite this state before, and he was torn between amusement and abject pity.
Carlos had come home from work three days ago, brow pinched, eyes tight, clearly in some kind of pain. After a significant amount of questioning he’d finally admitted to having a headache. T.K. had plied him with some OTC pain medication and sent him to bed.
Things had grown steadily worse over the last few days. First Carlos’ sinuses had completely stopped up and then he’d begun to cough and wheeze. Despite significant evidence to the contrary, he remained adamant that he was not sick. It was allergies. Nothing more. 
Now T.K. watched as Carlos sniffed and snorted, shuffling around the kitchen, eyes red and watery as he searched for something in the cupboards and drawers. “Are you sure I can’t help you?” T.K. asked.
Carlos turned to glare at him, rubbing at his nose before speaking in a croaky voice. “I told you, I’m fine.”
Carlos’ breath caught and T.K. winced as he hacked out a cough so hard it sounded like his lungs were trying to leave his body. He shook his head. Enough was enough. “Babe you need to sit down.”
“I’m fi—” Carlos interrupted himself with a massive sneeze.
“You’re not fine. You have an upper respiratory infection. Probably bronchitis. And you need to sit down and let me take care of you.”
“I don’t need to be taken care of,” Carlos griped, finally finding the spoon he was searching for. “I can take care of myself.”
“Yes, I can see what a spectacular job you’re doing of that right now,” T.K. said, glancing at his watch for dramatic effect. “It just took you twenty minutes to get a yogurt.”
“I couldn’t find the one I wanted,” Carlos snapped. “You always put them in the back.”
“Wow, you are cranky when you’re sick.”
“I’m not sick!”
“Babe,” T.K. rolled his eyes. “Come on.”
Carlos pulled the blanket he was wearing like a cloak a little closer. “I’m fine.”
T.K. shook his head. “Okay. You’ve left me no choice.”
He pulled out his phone and drafted a text. “What are you doing?” Carlos asked warily.
“Texting your mom.”
“What?!” Carlos’ head snapped up and he reached for T.K.’s phone, but T.K. backed up out of his reach. “T.K.!”
“Carlos, you’re sick and you won’t let me help you. What else am I supposed to do?” He pulled back as Carlos tried to swipe his phone again and then pointed a finger at his ailing boyfriend. “This is for your own good.”
The menacing look Carlos shot his way would have been chilling if he didn’t look so incredibly pathetic. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
“Yeah, by choice to stay away from your germs,” T.K. shot back, but he didn’t put any heat in his tone.
His phone chimed with a text message back from Andrea. “Your mom’s coming over. She’s bringing soup.”
Carlos turned away and shuffled over to the couch, yogurt in hand. “I hate you.”
“That’s fine, as long as you live long enough to hate me tomorrow too,” T.K. called after him.
T.K. figured since he’d already pressed his luck he might as well push it a little further, so he scheduled Carlos a tele-health visit with his doctor, while his boyfrriend huddled on the couch in a blanket, sniffling and coughing and wheezing, the absolute picture of misery.
Andrea arrived within the hour, a tureen of soup in her hand. T.K. wondered if she’d somehow managed to whip it up before she drove over or if she just had that sort of thing on standby. Moms were magic like that.
“Hey Andrea,” T.K. said when he opened the door.
“Hola T.K.,” she greeted. “Thank you for texting me.” Her eyes found Carlos’ huddled form on the couch and she immediately frowned. “Ay, my poor Carlitos.”
“Mama I’m fine,” he all but moaned as she handed the soup to T.K. and moved toward him.
She pressed a hand to his forehead. “You are not fine mi amor, you’re all clammy.” She looked up at T.K. “He gets very cranky when he’s sick. Just like his father.”
“So I’ve noticed,” T.K. said, suppressing a smile as he walked the soup to the kitchen.
“I get cranky because everyone treats me like an invalid,” Carlos growled.
“Yes, we all know you are a big, strong police officer who doesn’t need any help,” Andrea said, fussing with his blanket. “I will just take my soup and go home then.”
Carlos mumbled something. “What was that mi corazón?” she asked.
“Don’t take the soup,” he said a little louder.
“I’ll heat it up right now,” T.K. said, reaching for a pot.
Carlos grudgingly attended his doctor’s appointment half an hour later, mostly because Carlos seemed to be unable to even get off the couch so T.K. just plunked the laptop down in front of him with the call already progress. With some added assistance from T.K., who listened to Carlos’ lungs and took his pulse and BP, the doctor determined it was indeed bronchitis and prescribed some extra strength cough medicine and an inhaler. Carlos was even polite to the doctor, although he went back to his cranky self immediately after they rang off the call.
Between Andrea and T.K. they managed to get a decent amount of soup and some tea into him along with some Mucinex before T.K. went out to pick up his prescriptions. By the time he got home Andrea had managed to use her special mom powers to get Carlos upstairs and into bed.
“Thank you for coming by,” T.K. said as she prepared to leave.
“Of course mi amor,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You can call me anytime my son is being a nuisance. Or any of his sisters if I’m out of town.” She thought for a second. “Maybe not Francesca,” she said, referring to Carlos’ youngest sister, who was something of a wild child. “You have Elena’s number?”
“Yes, I do,” T.K. said with a smile.
She patted his shoulder. “You take good care of my boy,” she said. “And be careful, we don’t need you getting sick too.”
“I will.”
T.K. saw her out the door and then grabbed the bag of medications and headed upstairs. At the last second he spotted Carlos’ book lying on the arm of the sofa and grabbed that too. 
Carlos was bundled into bed looking slightly less miserable than before now that he’d been fed and hydrated. “Hey,” T.K. said. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay,” Carlos said, sniffing and wiping his nose with a tissue. It was red and irritated from constant nose blowing, only adding to the pathetic-ness of the situation.
“I got your medicine. You should use the inhaler now and take the cough medicine when you’re ready to go to bed.” T.K. set them on the nightstand. “I brought your book up. Do you want anything else?”
Carlos shook his head. 
“All right, I’ll just be downstairs then. Holler if you need anything.”
He turned to go but Carlos’ hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, eyes downcast.
T.K. bit the inside of his cheek to suppress his smile. “It’s okay.”
“I’m bad at being sick,” Carlos said, looking extremely contrite. 
T.K. wondered if Andrea had scolded him and told him to apologize. “Yes, I know.”
“And I don’t really hate you.”
“I know that too.”
“Do you still love me?” He flicked his eyes up nervously.
T.K. laughed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Of course. I just want to take care of you.” He brushed the curls back from Carlos’ forehead. “Even if you don’t want me to.”
Carlos fiddled with the sheets for a moment. “Are you going to sleep on the couch?”
T.K. raised his eyebrows. “Do you want me to?”
Carlos shook his head.
T.K. leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Then I’ll stay.”
Carlos mumbled something. “Come again?” T.K. asked.
“Could you hold me?” Carlos said grouchily.
T.K. shook his head and bit his lip. “You’re really adorable, you know that?”
“Are you going to do it or not?” Carlos huffed.
T.K. put an arm around his waist and they both shifted until Carlos was cuddled against T.K.’s chest. “Better?” T.K. asked.
Carlos sighed a raspy, sick sounding sigh, and snuggled closer. “Yeah.”
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slyyywriting · 4 years
Text
Nice Guys Finish Last (Oneshot)
Steve Rogers x Reader
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Summary: Steve wants you to notice that he’s the one you should be dating and doting on but you only have a thing for bad guys.
Wordcount: 1.8k
Warnings: cuss words, villains being shot, Steve being a puppy
A/N: here’s some fluffy Steeb for your pleasure
|| Masterlist ||
“You’re on the wrong team Wilson. We could use someone like you.” The bad guy with the double sleeve tattoos was panting as he wipes the blood off the side of his mouth. He had been engaged in a fist fight with a grounded Falcon for the past five minutes. “The pay’s really good too. How much does SHIELD pay you? A buck, buck fifty?
“Man, shut the hell up!” Sam groans as he rises to his feet. He just got knocked off to his behind and a recruitment monologue was the last thing he wanted to hear.
As he gets a steady footing, he gets sucker punched to the gut making him regret the juice he had for breakfast as it made its way into his throat and out of his mouth. He kneels again and heaves as his insides feel like fire.
“I’m telling you, Wilson. HYDRA will set you up nicely. Great benefits, top real estate, and the finest pussy money can aff—“ the bad guy’s recruitment message gets cut short as two bullets hit the center of his throat.
Sam covers his head as the sound of the gun echoes in the warehouse only to hear the familiar click clacking of heels on the concrete. He looks up from his position and sees your butt in dark skinny jeans walk toward the dead man.
“Aww, damn. Saw this dude at a Coffee Bean last Wednesday. I basically eye banged him from across the room. Shame.” You sigh as you tap the guy’s back with your boot before looking down at Sam with a pout.
You help him up to his feet and leaned his form over you as the both of you walked out of the warehouse and into the sunlight, into the shining beacon that was Captain America. Steve gives the both of you a once over before giving final instructions to a couple of agents who just arrived on the scene. The bastard didn’t have a stain on his tight gray civilian shirt or a mark on his face.
“You alright?” he addresses Sam whose face was starting to bruise. You hand him over to a medic on standby and put your hands on your hips. Sam nods as he limps away, throwing a thank you to you.
“He’ll live. Might have to eat soon though. You?” you ask your captain as you brush stray hairs away from your face.
“I—I could eat.” Steve answers wide eyed, lips twitching as it threatens to form a smile and he starts to fiddle with his own hands.
You shake your head and grin. “No, I meant, are you okay? I know you look okay but you’ll never know.” You tease him and walk away from the scene as forensics start to swarm the place.
You pat Sam’s shoulder as you pass him by the ambulance and the man shakes his head while looking at Steve, the latter unaware of what just happened.
You get in your car and drive away, Steve’s image still in the rearview mirror. You smiled at how cute he had looked just minutes ago. He was always averting his gaze whenever he talked to you which made him even more endearing. But no matter how cute you thought Steve was, you could not get yourself to agree on going out on a date with him. He was too kind, too polite, too much of a straight arrow. And with your track record, he didn’t just fit in so you kept dodging his offers, implied and expressed, minor or major, you were not going out with Steve ‘America’s Golden Boy’ Rogers.
But Sam Wilson had other plans. It had been painful for him as a bystander to witness all sixteen rejections from you at Steve’s offers. The last straw was from earlier at dinner when Steve brought a box of pizza to share but you took the pizza back into your own room and consumed it alone with Brooklyn Nine-Nine on the background.
“Man, you have to be more assertive!” Sam fumes as he sees the Captain sulk again on the couch. “She likes assholes, so you have to be an asshole!”
Steve guffaws at the sheer ridiculousness of his friend’s statement. His ma would hit him right in the head if she ever heard such a thing. But he concedes at the fact that Sam was right. You had a knack for dating men of questionable standings and he always wondered if you ever gone through the wanted list on the database like one would go through a dating app.
Steve could just give up and find another woman to like but unfortunately for him, aside from the point that you were disinterested in him, he was smitten by you. And dammit, he’s too old to be waiting for another turn at liking someone else. Reluctantly, he agrees to be coached on how to get him self within your radar.
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You growl lowly as another villain starts monologuing their evil plans to you. The binds on your wrist were starting to chafe and your pretty sure the only way to escape was to pop your thumb out of its socket for a bit. You squeeze your eyes shut as you count down from ten to break your thumb off when a loud crash interrupts you followed by the metal door being blasted open and the woman who speaks in a Southern belle accent flies back into the wall.
When the ringing in your ear subsides and the cloud of dust settles, you see Steve in front of you hauling the woman off the floor and passing her off to one of the other agents behind him. He then moves to help you out of your restraints but not before checking your face and extremities for possible injuries. He was halfway done with the binds on your legs when the Falcon clears his throat from the blasted doorway.
“Uhh, Cap! I need you out here.” Sam’s voice cracks as he calls Steve back out.
“Yeah, just a sec.” Steve answers while busying himself with you but Sam calls him out again.
“Uhh, no. I need you… to get yourself… away. Right now!” Sam emphasizes by looking pointedly to the hallway. Steve looks at him baffled but finally remembers. He was supposed to be a bad boy. And bad boys don’t do aftercare as Sam had put it. Whatever that means. So Steve stops immediately his ministrations and dusts off his knees before exiting the room.
“What—but I’m still—“
“You can manage right? You’re a big girl.” Steve reasons out while you scoff in disbelief.
And so the plan rolls out just the way Sam had instructed. Steve Rogers, most polite man on the face of the earth, had to act with total disregard for your personal preferences in order for you to take him seriously.
But all hell broke loose when he deliberately ignored all your packages out in the lawn when you specifically requested him to take them all inside while you were still away from the compound. Sam protested when he saw Steve carrying multiple boxes indoors.
“What are you a chump?” Sam berates him, arms crossed over his chest.
“Uhh, no?” Steve freezes, box still in hand and eyes looking for answers on the rafters.
“Yeah? Because you look like one to me right now.” Sam slaps the box off of his friend’s hand and it lands on the floor with a thud. “I told you, nice guys finish last and if you don’t stop acting like one, you’re not going to get the girl.”
And with that Sam walks away from the conversation. Confused and torn between wanting to follow through his lesson and wanting to do what he felt was right, Steve groans, runs his hands through his hair before escaping to the gym to blow off some steam.
Hours later, while he was lounging freely, your screech interrupts him and shakes the glass in the building. You walked into the common area fuming, a limp and soaked folder in your hand.
“Rogers! I specifically requested you to do one thing! Politely, I might add and you fucked it up!” you roar at him, hair sticking to your bare shoulders. You must have been out in the rain trying to save the boxes to the best of your ability.
Steve shoots up out of his seat and stands straight just like he did back in the military when his drill sergeant would grill his lack of physical skills. His eyes flit from you to the windows then to his feet. A movement behind you distracts him and he sees one Samuel Wilson mouthing out stand your ground while pointing to the floor then flexing his biceps.
“I—uhh… I—“ he stutters, not really sure how to proceed. He feels like his brain is about to short circuit.
“I know I shouldn’t be ordering you around because you technically outrank me but god! You could’ve just said no instead of making me trust you.” You’re yelling at him and it’s wrong, you know. But the boxes were important and he was just gaping at you like a fish.
When he still didn’t give any reason or excuse you turn on your heel and start to walk away but Steve stops you.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to cause you inconvenience or disregard your work.” He starts, right hand out as if he were trying to reach for you. “Sam—he—he told me to do it.”
Just as the words came out of his mouth Steve winces. You turn back to him and raise a brow.
“You always do what Wilson tells you?”
“No?”
He winces again as he sounds like a guilty toddler. You cross your arms and glare at him. Sam leaves the room in a hurry not wanting to be part of it anymore.
“Then what is it? Why would you agree with him?”
“I—I don’t know it was dumb. But I really am sorry. I won’t let you down again, I swear.” He steps forward, closer to you, hands clasped together. He was pouting now, eyes wide and circular like a guilty looking puppy.
You groan in defeat. There was no winning in this, he had you.
“Urhg, fine! I forgive you. But you have to help me scan every piece of wet paper into FRIDAY’s data base!” you yell out as you walk away from him, hands on your hips.
“And you owe me a nice dinner! Like, I-have-to-wear-a-dress fancy kind of nice dinner.”
“Like—like a date?”
“Yes, exactly like a date. To make up for this huge headache I’m having right now.”
He nods and follows you out into the rain to retrieve the remaining boxes with a smile on his face. He’s confused as to how but Sam’s plan worked after all.
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