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charles-and-camilla-fanfictions · 8 months

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All The Time in the World - Chapter 1

Part 1 Devoir

Birkhall, January 2020

I wake with the howling of the wind and curl so that every part of me is cocooned in the warmth of the blankets but my nose is exposed and complains about the temperature. Reaching my hand across, I can feel that the other side of the bed is empty, although the compression of the pillows tells me that my husband came to bed last night. Sometimes he falls asleep at his desk and that leaves him with pain in his back and a niggling disposition best avoided. I grimace as the wind fights its way into the house and I hear the lash of rain against the window panes belabouring them. Today will be difficult. He acts like the incarceration in the house is the fault of everyone around him rather than the inclement weather. I settle back into the covers and shut my eyes to postpone commencing the day.

“Your Royal Highness, Ma’am?” The knock against the door is tentative. I hate being disturbed prematurely and this house is meant to be where we take our holidays, not where I should be harassed at indecorous hours of the morning. “Why are you in my room, waking me up?” “So sorry, Ma’am, His Royal Highness, The Prince of Wales has asked for you.” “The sun hasn’t risen. He knows not to wake me before then.” I’m being petulant. The sun never rises early at this time of year and certainly not this far north. “Sorry Ma’am, he asked for you.”

The initial irritation dissolves into unease. “Fine.” I wriggle out of the covers and prop myself up on the pillows. The air cools through my nightdress and brushes my bare shoulders like frost, making me shiver. Almost immediately, the lamps are switched on in the room and I find a thick cardigan placed around me, a cup of black tea in my hands, warming them. “Tell me, Martin, what exactly is wrong with my husband?” “He’s most perturbed, Ma’am.” “Meaning?” Martin colours most magnificently when he’s embarrassed. Watching the shade of his cheeks, I can sometimes work out the truth before he’s admitted to it. He doesn’t look at me and I repeat my question with a Grandmotherly sternness I know works well with him. “He’s striding around his office, shouting at anyone who enters.” “What’s happened?” “I think The Prince would want to tell you himself, Ma’am.” As I raise my eyebrows at him slightly, I see his endeavour to remain loyal to my husband waiver at my expression. I just need to probe correctly to break him. “Is it that Chinese virus?” “That what, Ma’am?” “Corona Virus?” His blank face tells me it’s not. “Harry then?” I watch his face rouge, not able to lie to me and then crumple as he folds. “You need your iPad. There’s a message on Instagram.” “Tell me. I don’t know where my glasses are. I don’t even know how to work Insta-whatever-it-is, I just scroll through the pretty pictures.” “It’s Their Royal Highnesses, The Duke and Duchess of Sussex. They have announced they’re stepping back from the position of Senior Royals.” “Get me the iPad.”

It’s a strange emotion that hits my stomach. The anger is instant and prickles my skin, and the grief for my husband settles down in my heart as an old companion. Swallowing, I attempt to rid my mind of any unfavourable comparison but my stomach is churning, a contorted mixture of unease born of wounds from long ago, and guilt from what feels like a different age, salted in a deep-set resentment. I feel leaden as I read the message four, five times over, memorising it before removing my reading glasses to look at Martin. He’s worried about my reaction but I’m not my husband. I sigh heavily, not wanting to get up, but one benefit of my position is that someone will aid me with everything, especially when my bones are too old to move quickly at this time of day. “Send for Emma.” My poor husband. Anger laps at me but I know I have to be calm, even as my stomach pangs. I bet Charles hasn’t eaten yet. “And tea for his office…” “Yes, Ma’am.” “And something sweet.” “What sort…” “...Duchy biscuits are fine,” I snap, then pause to correct myself and continue with a more neutral tone, “Ready for when I get there. And toast and honey. Send Emma up now.”

Dismissing him, I breathe in deeply, feeling the air inflate my lungs, feeling my blood disseminate the oxygen around my body, to my tired muscles, calming me, preparing me for my job, my vocation. The lifetime I’ve spent talking gently to my husband, teasing him, bullying him, calming him down. There is never the time to process each new disaster with his family and sometimes I feel reminiscent of a firefighter, faithfully attempting to extinguish one crisis as several others ignite around me, but it seems churlish to complain when we’ve spent so many years striving for what we have now.

~*~*~*~*~*~

2000, Highgrove

We turn on the television to listen to Big Ben, to hear the countdown and watch the fireworks and I feel his hand reaching for mine. I clasp it firmly. The camera pans onto a closeup of his mother’s face and I smirk. Sat there with the Prime Minister, she looks as pissed off as her public persona allows. He kisses my cheek and I know he’s noted my expression. “She looks happy.” That makes me chuckle and I pull away from the screen and turn to face him. The hubbub around us is quieting now to the hush which always accompanies this precise moment in time, that pause before the countdown to the New Year begins. “I wonder if the telly’s going to crash at the stroke of midnight?” “Perhaps everything will go down?” “Your mother will be trapped in the dark.” “That would be funny.” “Do you think the little bug thing will crawl out and take over, reign over us?” That makes him chuckle and he reaches down to kiss me. “Last kiss this year.” “Last kiss this century.” “Hold my hand. I want to enter the new millennium with you.” The countdown starts but I’m looking into his eyes. I want his eyes to be the first thing I see. Or the last, if the world does indeed come to an end in five seconds time. But, of course, it doesn’t and I’ve almost completed saying the obligatory blessing before he kisses me again, then presses his forehead against mine. I can hear the celebrations around me. The corks popping and the choruses of ‘Happy New Year!’ We’re jolted slightly from side to side as our friends turn and greet in the new year in the time old fashion but I can’t draw away from him. Not until I feel people tugging me, grasping for my hand and then the spell is broken and I’m back on earth, singing along with all our friends, laughing with them, bouncing our arms to the beat of the song, grimacing at the sound of my voice as I warble along with them.

The deep boom of fireworks exploding outside sets off an excited chatter and I find myself hastily bundled into a coat, his coat. My nose burrows to inhale the scent but I’m manhandled outside and his arms hold me to him as I try to watch the display. “Start as we mean to go on.” “Being shoved outside, you mean?” I hear him chuckle against my ear and then his lips against my neck make me giggle. “Resolutions, Darling.” “Oh, I’m dreadful at these. I always say the same things. I’ll give up smoking. I won’t drink as much… One week of January and the sheer tedium of the month bores me straight back to my old habits.” “That’s because you had no intention of ever giving them up and you’ve said it for show.” “Probably.” “My resolution is to be with you.” “You are with me, Darling.” “To fight for you until there’s no longer any need.” That makes me smile. It will be another millennium before people accept our relationship. “What’s my resolution, Darling?” “You’ve got to make it. I can’t tell you what your resolution will be.” I feel his fingers poking in my side to tickle me and smile. “I resolve to love you through everything.” “You can’t resolve to love me! You’re meant to already love me!” “I do ‘already’ love you.” I turn my head to kiss him, to reassure him and manage to find his chin. It’s rough against my lips. “I said I will love you through everything. Through everything that hits you, hurts you, damages you. I will love you through every crisis. That’s the resolution.” “I think I’m getting the better deal.” “You most certainly are. You need to up the stakes with yours.” “I can’t. The only thing you want, I’ve done for the past thirty years, regardless.” “What do I want?” “You want to be loved and to feel loved. I can’t resolve that I’ll always love you. It’s just a part of who I am. I’m far too old to change now.” “Don’t change.” “When have you ever known me to change?” “Well then you best make up for the discrepancies in our resolutions!” “I will make you my Queen, Camilla.” “Whether I want it or not?” “Something like that.” “Sounds like a threat.” “It’s meant to be an honour.” “Let’s just concentrate on the moment. The bug hasn’t taken over, has it?” I turn in his arms so I’m facing him and bat my eyes at him, making him laugh. “Don’t sound so hopeful!”

His eyes sparkle at me but even my joke can’t distract from what he’s just said to me. The crowd around us seems to me to be separated from us by an invisible force, hushing the noise, and I feel like we’re suddenly so far away from the rest of the world. “Your resolution isn’t about me. It’s about what you want.” “It’s also about you being treated with the respect you deserve.” “That isn’t important to me.” “Only because you’ve learnt to live without it. It is still important.” “I’d prefer to be with you than to be ‘respected’.” “I want you to have both.” I know he does. I won’t let him shatter traditions and demand it happen now; I’m not sure that would even work. But I know he means it and once he makes a decision, he sticks with it. “It would be nice to not be the most hated woman in the world…” “I wish people could meet you. Then they’d love you as much as I do.” “This is the perfect time for wishes. Make them to your heart’s content and then hold onto me tightly and just savour that we’re here together.”

I hardly dare allow myself to wish for anything. It feels like tempting fate. Turning my face towards the spectacle in the heavens above me, I push my head back against him and wish for time together. Just us. But even as I wish for it, I know it will never happen. Ironically, we saw far more of each other when we were married to other people, almost a different lifetime ago, when we both had fewer scars, before the trauma of the past few years. I’ve got a better wish. My wish is that I can make him happy, that I’ll be allowed to do that. At the moment, everything is an uphill battle for acceptance, dodging the grenades thrown at us from his own family, riding the wave of public contempt. I don’t desire to be a part of the Royal Family, I never have; I would happily flee the country and live out the rest of my life with him. A simpler life. No responsibilities. But it would break him and put the responsibility onto his son’s shoulders, shoulders far too young for that weight. So perhaps, instead, my wish is for the strength I’m going to need in order to make him happy when the world is desperate for us to be ripped apart. They don’t realise it’s far too late for that. We won’t be parted from each other now. I wrap my arms around him and pull him close to me. We are starting the new millennium as we mean to go on. Together.

~*~*~*~*~*~

1970, London

His body tenses as I wrap my arms around him but I ignore it and I feel his hands gently pat my back. “Do people not usually hug you, Sir?” I pull away, my eyes grinning at him. He is bright red, his cheeks so flushed they match the rouge of the wallpaper behind him. “Usually I initiate it. People don’t tend to assume they can hug me.” “How dull.” That makes him laugh, a little giggle which sets his face alight. This has been my challenge all evening, to see if I can make this very serious young man loosen up a little. The giggle is almost apologetic and he brings his hand up to his face to hide behind. I want him to laugh openly with me. I’m not sure why. Objectively, he’s very attractive, if you’re into princes. He’s got the education, certainly, some of the topics of conversation have tested me to my limits tonight but he seems to have enjoyed himself and he appears to have been a very good distraction from the mess my love life is currently in with my on-off boyfriend Andrew and his various conquests. Lucia, our mutual friend, was naughty but right to introduce us and her little soiree has been an unmitigated success.

“Careful you two,” Lucia draws on her cigarette to drastic effect, “you have genetic antecedence…” She blows the smoke out to form a perfect smoke ring and I’m more than a little impressed. “Sorry?” He’s really sweet when he’s confused. “I think, Sir, she was referring to the fact that my Great Grandmother was your Great-Great Grandfather’s Mistress…” That makes him blush, from his cheeks and up his ears. “He had a great many mistresses, which particular one are you referring to?” “Alice Keppel.” “Oh… That one. She was considerably more than just his mistress, wouldn’t you say?” “I suppose…” “According to my sources, she was the love of his life. You certainly had best watch out. I apologise in advance if I fall in love with you. I won’t be able to help it, you see. Genetic antecedence.” “She was also meant to be exceptionally good in bed.” Lucia’s drawl makes me cough out my own inhalation of smoke and turns his cheeks a deeper rose colour, although his eyes are sparkling at me. “Is that genetic too?” I laugh and watch his face break into a great smile. “Would you like to know? Or are you destined to be a virgin until you’re married?” “There are no rules about me being a virgin.” “How unfair.” “I guess it is, rather. Tell me this, Miss Shand, how is it that you are single when you talk such tantalising talk?” “Apparently others find me less attractive. Perhaps it’s all a facade and I become boring the more time you spend with me? Then you require more variety?” “Somehow I doubt you’re ever boring. Andrew’s an idiot, by the way. My sister is a wonderful woman but she will drop him like a stone when she’s finished with him.” The fact that he knows about me and Andrew shocks me but I don’t let it show on my face. Perhaps Lucia has told him. The other, inconvenient truth being that Andrew’s current squeeze is Princess Anne, is evidently public knowledge and I ignore the pang of pain which goes through me. “Oh, I’m quite sure he’ll survive. If he doesn’t already have someone else on the go, I’d be really surprised.” “Then it appears I meet you at a fortuitous time.” “How’s that?” “Well I take it that you’re very much ‘off’ with Andrew?” “Very much so.” “Hence the fortuity.” “Oh, well, I only had eyes for him and he only had eyes for everyone…” “That explains why you fell over a cliff.” I look at him, recognising the line and seeing his eyes looking at me, anxiously willing me to laugh, “You rotten swine, you!” “You have deaded me!” That does make me laugh. “Foiled by President Fred!” “Quick, get behind the screen, Gladys.” His mimicry is so on point, he leaves me with tears rolling from my eyes and I’m doubled over with laughter as he recites line after line of my favourite radio show with perfect accuracy. In the end, I have to stop him, to allow myself space to breathe and just looking at him sets us both off again, laughing all my makeup off. Neither of us noticed Lucia disappearing and it’s only her reappearance later which switches our conversation to something else.

I like the way he looks at me as if he’s searching for my approval when he speaks, checking that I agree before continuing. I can’t quite believe how funny he is and how interesting his stories are. I could listen to his soothing voice for hours. Not that I’d admit that. The time dissolves whilst we talk and I don’t notice the fading of the light, nor the various candles which appear around the room until we run out of time and Lucia shows us out of her flat. We saunter down one flight of stairs together. “Goodnight, Miss Shand.” That makes me giggle; it’s so antiquated and suits him to a tee. Now I can feel myself flirting with him. “Goodnight, Sir.” “I’ll walk you home.” “It’s just down the corridor. I can surely manage.” “I’ll walk you anyway.” “Then you’ll know where I live.” “Yes, I will.” “I’m not sure that’s entirely suitable.”

I can’t stop myself from flirting with him, batting my eyelashes, glancing at him sidewards, ensuring he sees that I’m looking. The darkness of the hall is illuminated by the glow from the moon as all the lights have gone out in the power cut, a sign of the times which is usually irritating, but today seems romantic. It makes his skin glow with a silver sheen and I want to reach up and touch his face. I don’t, of course. Instead, we linger by my door, leaning against the wall, talking, giggling quietly as I unsuccessfully attempt to desist with the flirting. “Can I kiss you goodnight?” “Of course not.” His question shocks me and I kick myself for my immediate knee jerk answer. “Well, would you come dancing with me?” “You’re a Prince. Can’t you just order me.” “Possibly. I’d prefer you not to come by force, however.” “Would take some of the fun out of it…” He giggles, nervously, and it makes me smile. I pretend to consider, my eyes meeting his and seeing the fear in them. “Not tonight.” “No, of course not. Tomorrow?” That makes me chuckle and I nod, turning the key in my door. “When shall I pick you up?” I shrug and slip into my flat. “Seven thirty?” “Yes.” “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I close the door in his face and smile to myself. I feel slightly giddy at the thought of him calling on me. This should be fun.

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jargonbyjulia · 11 months

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“It’s impossible!”

I’ve heard the saying, “Mums get no days off.” It’s true and it isn’t. I know a couple of mums that get plenty of days off, with health retreats throughout the year, child-free holidays, and so on. Sometimes days off seem IMPOSSIBLE. Even getting through some days seems impossible. I get a few hours to myself; I like to get my nails done, and tomorrow I have a first hair appointment in six months - shock horror!

I have a two and a five year old, and I work part time. On Thursdays I work at home, and I like to think of that as my day “off”. I work in peace, I play my own music, I answer only to the ding of Teams’ notifications, emails and my stomach rumbles. Today is Thursday, and I had my two year old home sick from daycare. It’s barely just winter, and we’ve been knocked out at least twice already. I did my best to keep her entertained while I caught up on the work I started Tuesday, where seven meetings had me pretty tied up. We were doing fine, and she was enjoying being home with me, watching Peppa Pig on repeat, and eating through the snack shelf of the pantry.

At 11:00am, my daughter’s school called asking if I could pick up my preppy as she had a headache, fever and sore tummy. So I alerted work, bundled up my toddler and ran to the rescue. She wasn’t well, at all. We made her warm and gave her medicine, and suddenly it was 11:30am, which means nap time for the little one. I quickly answered emails, started writing an article and reviewed some work. I made sure miss five was comfortable and then put miss two down for her nap. After that, I made a quick couple of sandwiches for us, and ate at my desk. While answering 785 questions, including “How do you spell chicken?” and “What is 78 plus 802?” (from my child, not a colleague), I worked through my list for the day, trying my hardest to focus on the tasks at hand. Suddenly it’s 1:45pm and my two year old is awake, and I break my focus. Now it’s time to prepare her food and get her playing happily with her sister. It’s much easier than I had thought, so I can get back to my work. By 3pm, she’s sitting on my lap tapping away at the keys on my computer, asking why I have a spare TV (my second computer monitor) and she just has a lousy plastic phone with dead batteries.

The dog is whining as he hasn’t had a walk all day. My husband left for work at 8:30am, and he won’t be back until we are asleep at 10pm. Miss five goes downhill as suddenly as Melbourne’s morning temperatures, and needs her fever brought down, so there’s no leaving the house. I’m starting to think getting through this day is impossible, but we push through with more snacks, YouTube kids and a cranked heater.

At 4:30pm I’m cooking lamb chops from Monday and drafting my weekly wrap-up for work.

My phone rings. My husband asks, “How was your day?” I sigh and say it was busy. I read some feedback about my work as the kids eat dinner in front of the fire I made by rubbing two sticks together because everyone is “SO COLD!” and I take a breath. Only a quick one though, as I need to run the bath for two girls who identify solely as mermaids and then hit send on one more message before the end of the working day. COB they call it; Close of Business. (Mums don’t really have a COB though, do they?!)

I haven’t had a shower all day, and it’s 6:20pm. My youngest just shut her head in the fridge trying to make imaginary apple pie for the dog, there’s a full basket of clean laundry waiting to be folded on the kitchen table and I think the wombok I was relying on to substitute as salad leaf for my dinner is growing babies. But gosh, somehow I feel accomplished. There’s ice cream on the couch slowly seeping into the earth under our home, the iPads are dead and I am tired, so tired. But I’ve nearly ticked everything off my work to-do list, and, apart from fridge-headgate, the girls are now content, warm, full, laughing, and nearly ready for bed.

Mums do get days off, but not me today. And that’s ok! We got through it. I’m forever grateful for an extremely supportive workplace who understand what people, and mums, go through on a daily basis. No one pressured me to hit unrealistic deadlines, and everyone understood what I was going through, or at least sympathised or empathised with me. And in the end, it just makes me want to work smarter, and harder. In all aspects of my life.

There will be a glass or four poured tonight, and I’d say they are well deserved. I’ve just realised baby mermaid is due for her antibiotics, so I’ll end with one of our favourite Peppa Pig quotes, “It’s impossible!”

But really Peppa, NOTHING is impossible.

#momlife #mumlife #life #love #peppa pig #kids #dailyquote

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holly-louisexox · 1 year

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Ribcage X Andy Biersack- Part 2

*Masterlist*

"There's one thing you should know about me Delia Vincent, I don't date. Got no heart to break and emptiness is safe, keep it that way."

He was adamant in his choices...

...But then things changed.

Not my Gif

"Okay so I'm just going to run one final ear piece test, and it'll simply be a a small series of sounds, let me know if there's any issues in volume, balance or if it's all good to go." Delia explains whilst flicking through the IPad she held in her hands that contained a few master control links.

"I think we know how an ear piece works by now." Andy scoffs making sure his was in his ear and securely fitted.

"Okay, playing sounds in 3, 2, 1." Delia continues whilst ignoring Andy's rude comment. "Any issues with that?"

"Nope, spot on. Thanks Delia." CC comments which makes the others nod in agreement- besides Andy who was back to his death glare- well if he wasn't going to fully cooperate that wasn't down for Delia's error.

"Perfect. Well good luck guys. Any issues just let me know via speaking into your mics or sending some sort of signal my way and I'll look into sorting it for you." Delia smiles before walking towards where her sound desk for the venue was set up.

---------

it had reached the half way point of the performance for Black Veil Brides and thankfully there had not been any issues raised by any of the members on stage; this definitely brought some ease to the nerves Delia was feeling about the tour. From her end the balance sounded perfect with all the instruments blending in such a way that each could still be appreciated individually without one overpowering the others, even with the crowd screaming and singing along. The crowd volume was an anxiety Delia didn't even realise she had until the first song started if she was being totally honest. It was one thing to do a sound check with just the band playing, it was a whole other thing to be checking sound balance whilst also trying to make sure everything could be heard over screaming fans. This was a massive step up from doing smaller artist performances or even theatre production work that was for sure, regardless, Delia was feeling confident about her work right now and the fact that the band (excluding the dickhead that was Andy) had complete faith in her was also a helping boost.

"You look like a snack!" a fan suddenly screams as the song finished which instantly caught the attention of Andy.

"I look like a snack?" Andy asks only to be met by screams and laughter from the crowd "I assume that is a good thing?" More screams.

As much as Delia hated to admit it, this particular scene did cause a laugh from her. It just amazed her how this lead singer laughing and being confused when interacting with his fans was the same guy who had been nothing but rude to her for the whole first day that they had met.

"Believe it or not he's a decent guy deep down."

The voice of CC from earlier then echoed in Delia's head. Seeing him on stage was definitely a different side of him from what she had met earlier in the day, he clearly cared about the fans and the band. The sudden guilt of wanting to know what had happened to him to make him such a way suddenly hit her. Surely it would be weird to go digging on the internet about him, after all, he was technically one of her employers in a way. Maybe one of the guys would spill something to her eventually? she highly doubted he would say anything about it to her, but then did she really want to know what happened?

"Uh oh, I think our new sound technician has fallen asleep on the job. Hey Delia, Jinxx's mic has stopped working, could you fix this for us please?" Andy's voice is then snapping her out of her thoughts causing her to scramble to her main controls to find the issue.

"Hey, there we go! Everyone give it up for Delia!" Jinxx then shouts into his mic causing the fans to scream- all the while Delia can see that Andy is staring at the sound booth slightly emotionless whilst passing a quick thumbs up. No doubt this will cause a massive reaction from him after the show, oh how Delia looked forward to that conversation later. So much for her first show with them running super smoothly.

-----------

"Right, okay. That is slightly inconvenient but it should be fine. Thank you so much for letting me know in advance, I know a few solutions to the issue so when we're there tomorrow I'll look into it to find the better option." Delia speaks into her phone.

The show had ended and despite the one microphone mishap that had happened to Jinxx, Delia was feeling beyond pleased with herself. About half an hour after the show had finished she had the venue for the next show contact her regarding a tech issue they had run into that night for the performer they had, which would result in some of the tech stuff she had planned not be able to run the way originally planned. It was times like this Delia was glad she had spent the extra 2 years at university to do a masters degree, if she did a Bachelor's degree alone she likely would be panicking by now. Despite this, it was still a weird concept to her of just how professional this new job of hers was. She remembers when she had to give all of the venues her number when she signed to the tour for the very reasons like this implication she was now faced with.

"Shit." Delia then mutters under her breath as she looks down at her phone after ending the call from the venue. Jinxx had explained what time they were all heading out for after show drinks and she was already running 5 minutes late. Well, a job as a sound technician sadly didn't end straight after a performance, surely they will understand her late coming.

--------------

"There she is! we were worried you were going to bail on us!" CC laughs as Delia walks onto the band's tour bus. At the mention of Delia's name, Andy's head instantly snaps to look at her; death glare in motion towards her.

"Here I am." Delia laughs back awkwardly, aware of Andy's disapproval. "Sorry, I had tomorrow night's venue phone me just to brief over a slight issue they've had with their sound controls. But it'll be fine, I'll figure something out."

"Oh brilliant, another way for Delia to fuck up our set." Andy rolls his eyes before placing a kiss on the cheek of the girl who was sitting next to him silently with his arm around her shoulders. "Right, well I think it's time you leave, we'll have to start travelling soon. I'll walk you out." Andy then explains to this girl before the pair of them up and leave.

"So... what do you want to drink?" Jake breaks the tension after Andy leaves.

"What you guys got?"

#andy biersack #andy black #andy bvb #jinxx bvb #cc bvb #lonny eagleton #lonny bvb #jake pitts #jake bvb #black veil brides #bvb #black veil brides fanfic #bvb fanfic

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teetlesandnimjas · 4 years

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POV you just got smacked over the head with a titanium pole and you’re starting to black out when this mf walks in

#rottmnt #i went too hard on this #the rim lighting is too much #my app says this took 15 hours #its probably more like 4 #i spent WAY TOO LONG on the sketch #gosssssh it took forever #it probably says 15 cuz i passed out in the middle of making it #djdjsjsjsjaala #i work up at my desk asleep on my ipad #IM SORRRRRY #rise of thet tmnt #rottmnt donnie #lol i need to learn how to draw turtles #this is my first time really working with perspective and being proud of it #but i dont like the colors lol #my art

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ididloveyou · 2 years

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Dick knocked twice on the door to Bruce’s study before pushing it open. The lamps on each of the bookshelves lit the room in a yellowish glow. It was warm, homely. Bruce was behind his desk while Tim was cross-legged in an old, floral armchair.

‘You wanted to see me?’

Dick looked between the two of them tentatively. It’d been a while since he’d visited the Manor.

‘Dick,’ the warm look on Bruce’s face soothed his doubts and he relaxed into his body, loosening his limbs and taking up more space.

Tim raised an eyebrow.

‘This is more important than going over the quarter three profits before the meeting on Thursday? No offense, Dick.’

‘You’re good,’ Dick waved him off.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about whatever Bruce needed him for. It’d been a long time since Bruce had needed him for anything.

Bruce hummed and held out his hand. Tim handed over the iPad with a sigh.

‘Whatever. It’s your funeral.’

Tim pulled on his suit jacket and slung a rucksack over his shoulder.

‘You need a lift home? You can’t take your motorcycle back in this.’

Thunder rumbled loudly outside and the sound of the rain pattered against the windows. Somehow, it made Bruce’s office seem warmer.

‘I’ll drive him later, Tim. Thank you,’ Bruce said before Dick could accept.

Dick smiled anyway.

‘Thanks, man.’

‘Of course,’ Tim muttered something under his breath that Dick didn’t catch before leaving with a half-hearted wave over his shoulder. Dick didn’t envy him having to run to the car in this. He’d be drenched the second he stepped out of the front door.

‘Remember to sign Alicia’s documents and forward them to her,’ Tim called.

Bruce frowned. ‘Shut the door please, Dick.’

Dick did as he was told and then looked around the office absently. It was weird being back in here. When he was a kid he’d fall asleep on the chaise longue while listening to Bruce work away at the desk.

He looked up to find Bruce staring at him.

‘Take a seat,’ he said after a moment.

Dick sat down in the seat opposite the desk. Bruce’s pen made a clinking sound as it fell into the pot. He glanced up again and something like amusement flickered across his face.

‘Come round here.’

Dick blinked in surprise.

‘Round there?’ he asked, standing up.

Bruce’s lips twitched upward.

‘Bring your chair.’

Dick slipped around the back of the desk, setting his chair beside Bruce’s. The lamp on his desk was like headlights in the dark.

‘Is this-’ he swallowed ‘-is this a bad talk?’

The desk was neat except for some papers and a couple of trinkets. No signs of deteriorating health or hidden injuries.

Bruce chuckled. ‘Calm down.’

He typed a code into the lock on his desk drawer and it clicked open.

‘You should change that to something safer,’ Dick commented, ‘a lot of people know my birthday.’

Too many people. He was already receiving cards through the post in anticipation of his thirtieth. Of course, he accepted them gracefully - and by that he meant that he shoved them behind the plant in the hall where he didn’t have to look at them.

Bruce ignored him and placed a thin metal box on the desk. He clicked the lid and Dick peered over his arm as he sifted through handwritten papers and scrawled diagrams until he reached a--

‘Is that a mask?’ Dick tilted his head in confusion.

‘Here,’ Bruce said warmly, ‘lift your head.’

Dick took off his glasses and tilted his chin up. The world sort of shifted without his glasses. It took longer for everything to come into focus, if it ever did. He let his eyes flutter shut as Bruce pressed the edges of the mask down with his thumb. His fingertips trailed across Dick’s hairline gently.

‘I thought we weren’t allowed uniforms in the Manor.’ Dick’s voice was observational, soft, not accusing.

‘You’ve been avoiding the Cave,’ Bruce replied simply.

Dick flicked the arms of his glasses back and forth until Bruce broke the silence.

‘Open your eyes.’

Dick blinked and the world shifted into focus. It was… The mask was… He looked down at the papers on the desk. He recognized one of them as his prescription.

Dick's throat swelled with emotion.

‘Yeah,’ he said in acknowledgment. It was good. He could see.

Bruce visibly relaxed, leaning back in his chair and flipping a pen between his fingers.

‘You’ll try them for the next few days. Report any headaches, soreness, itchiness. You know the drill. I have all of the information worked out so I can make any necessary adjustments-’

Dick swallowed the lump in his throat. ‘You didn’t have to do this.’

Bruce paused. ‘It’s crucial that all new pieces of technology undergo full testing.’

Dick looked up at him and Bruce stared back knowingly. Dick’s eyes felt hot and his vision wavered for a different reason. He hadn’t realized… He’d thought…

Bruce stilled Dick’s hands as they fiddled anxiously with the glasses. His palm was warm and rough, soothing like something familiar. He tugged at the frames and Dick handed them over.

‘As I was saying, I can make any necessary adjustments easily so don’t waste time keeping problems to yourself-’ he wheeled his chair backward ‘-I want to quickly check that your current functionality matches your prescription. Can you read this out for me?’

Dick cleared his throat. ‘The mask features the regular functions: recording, streaming, facial recognition, and so forth. The new design should eradicate the irritability caused by constant… Is that enough?’

Bruce lowered the paper. ‘That’s enough. Thank you, chum.’

‘Course,’ Dick replied in a rough voice.

He ducked his head to remove the mask, wiping his eyes surreptitiously. It was such a small thing but for some reason it made him feel emotional. He was almost thirty years old, he could look after himself, but sometimes he didn’t want to.

‘Here,’ Bruce handed him his glasses.

Dick took them gratefully.

‘Thanks,’ he said.

‘You’re welcome.’

Bruce pulled out some papers from the desk and flipped through them before putting down a double-page spread. He looked at Dick.

‘I’ve got to go over this before Tim bursts a blood vessel,’ he nodded toward his buzzing phone. Dick smiled softly.

‘You think you can occupy yourself for an hour or so?’

Dick rounded the desk and rummaged through his bag by the door, pulling out his laptop. He cleared his throat.

‘Yeah. I’ve got plenty to catch up on.’

He crossed the room and sat down on the chaise longue.

He pretended not to notice the soft look Bruce gave him as he rested his head on one of the cushions.

#This is very indulgent #I just wanted Dick with glasses and good dad Bruce #This was just in a document called eyes #I'm never gonna post it anywhere so I'll just put it here #dick grayson #bruce wayne #dc #My writing

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objection-argumentative · 3 years

Text

Principal’s Office

Isla-14

I’M GOING TO PUT A TRIGGER WARNING OF RAPE HERE

PLEASE DONT READ IF IT UPSETS YOU.

Isla was sat outside the Principal's office, crying her eyes out when you and Rafael entered the room. "What's wrong, Isla?" you questioned your daughter. "I'm sorry, mom, I screwed up, but please can dad stay out here with me. I don't want him in there?" Isla pleaded with you "No, Isla, I'm going in to speak to principal Duran with your mother, and whatever it is you done, you will be punished." you stare at your husband with an open mouth. He was an asshole to his daughter. "Mom, stop him, please!" Isla was crying in your chest as you cuddled her. "Ah, the parents of the delinquent child is here," principal Duran cockly boomed out. You kissed Isla's head and walked into his office with your husband.

" I'm sure we can get this straightened out with the appropriate punishment for my daughter," Rafael spoke as he sat down. "Well, that will be that your daughter is expelled, Mr Barba" Duran smiled smugly. You didn't like him at all. "Excuse me? Don't you think that is jumping to conclusions?" you pleaded with the Principal while Rafael flared his nostrils in anger. "Well, why don't you see what your angel has done and then you will understand." Mr Duran turned the Ipad towards your husband, and a video of Isla having sex with a boy pops up on the screen. You feel sick to your stomach and the image of your daughter having sex.

The Principal put his feet on the desk and sat back in his chair. "Now, Mr and Mrs Barba, you understand why we have to expel her, she is barely fourteen, and there are videos of her going around the school like wildfire of her having rough sex with a much older boy." both you and your husband stand up.

"Hold on a minute", you begin to speak, but the Principal cuts you off. "Here we go, momma bear protection, I spoke to both your daughter and the young man in question, and I deemed it was a consensual relationship. I don't see why we have to drag a boy through the mud when he goes to college in two short weeks. She only cried rape because she wanted to see if she could get away with it." You looked at the Principal, stunned.

"My daughter was raped no matter what you think, You sick bastard! I want the name of that scumbag who raped my daughter now, or I swear to god I will wipe that smug smile off your face!" The Principal laughed while Rafael shook with anger.

"Mr Barba, I know it's upsetting, but you need to face facts. Your daughter isn't the type of girl a boy wants to take home when she sleeps about with older boys." Your husband stalks around the desk and punches the Principal. He pulls out his cell and goes into the bathroom. You think your husband is going to get tissue for the Principal's bloody nose, but when he comes out ten minutes, he has an arrest warrant for the Principal on child pornography and a search warrant for the total school's technology, including students tablets, laptops and cellphones.

"The squad is on their way, Carino. They need to take Isla's statement and her friends. Plus, they will need her cellphone and her laptop." you nod your head and exit the room and walk into the room where Isla is crying. You throw your arms around her and let her cry into you. "It's ok, baby, shhh, he won't hurt you anymore, I promise." She continued to sob in your neck. "Mom, he raped me, I promise, I didn't make it up, I swear" Isla was hyperventilating. You were calming her down when your husband busts through the door.

"Isla, come here", Rafael requested cooly. Isla gets up and walks over to her dad crying. He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. Princesa, I'm sorry, I will get this bastard Isla. Me and your mom won't rest until he is rotting in prison. I promise you that." He had a look in his eyes that made shivers go down your spine. "Baby, why don't you go with Detective Cassidy and Sargent Munch, and they will take the details of what happened" Isla nods her head and leaves the room with the police.

"Carino, how did we miss this?" Rafael was heartbroken. "I'm not sure, Rafael. The one thing we should be able to spot, and we are completely blind to it," you start to cry, and Rafael swops in and cuddles you. "Y/N, we will get him, I promise you, but you know we are off the case, and we aren't allowed anywhere near the station or the office. We will be put on leave." you cry into your husband's chest while your squad investigates your daughter's rape.

*6 hours later* You, Rafael and Isla were cuddled on your bed while the little mermaid. Isla was asleep in between the pair of you. Isla was cuddled into Rafael while you stroked her hair. Your work cell went off, and you jumped to answer it. "Barba, Yeah, Yeah, I got it Liv, We will bring her down, Liv." you look back at your husband and fourteen-year-old daughter. "I got it, Liv. We will be about an hour." You kill the call and walk back into the room. "Baby wake up, we need to go to the police station" you gently shake your daughter awake.# "What's going on?" your husband questioned. "Isla needs to do a line up" Rafael gets up and helps Isla up. You, Rafael and Isla piled into the car and headed towards the station.

*Four weeks later* It was a brutal long trial. The defendant Josh Mobley was an eighteen-year-old quarterback scholarship boy that was charming his way to the Jury. He made Isla out to be a slut and that he was set up by the daughter of a detective and an ADA in the sex crimes unit. The ADA on the case was none other than Peter Stone, and the defence was a newbie Janelle Thompson. She represented Rita's practice. When Rafael found out Rita was defending his daughter's rapist, he was livid. Not only was it a kick in the teeth with their friendship, but Isla called her aunt Rita.

When the Jury came back, everyone was tense. Isla was clinging to Rafael hard while you rubbed her back soothingly.

"In the charge of rape, we find the defendant Josh Mobley Guilty In the charge of creating child pornography, we find the defendant Josh Mobley Guilty In the charge of distributing child pornography, we find the defendant Josh Mobley Guilty"

You never had such as satisfying guilty before. Isla let out a long breath she had been holding while you watched Mobley cry as he was dragged away to the tombs. Rafael walked Isla out of the courthouse and down the stairs away from the press, While you spoke to the squad and thanked them. You decide a family night with the kids, and Lucia is well and truly needed after the past few weeks. Isla was a long way from herself, but with the support of her family and her true friends, she will get there.

#svu #law and order svu #SVU fanfiction #svu imagines #rafael barba #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba fic #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fluff #angst #fluff #reader #barba #barba x reader #x reader #Raul Esparza

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elliottspond · 3 years

Text

Heart Hands

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Summary: (Angst w/ Fluff End) Reader has trouble moving past a bad case and can’t sleep, but Spencer is there for them.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Unresolved problems from a case

[Please do not steal my work. Reblogs are appreciated. Happy reading!]

You open the doors to the bullpen, walking to your desk across from Spencer’s. He’s already sitting there writing in a file, and he looks up when you set your newly packed go bag down under your desk. You can’t help but notice the bags under his eyes that are worse than normal, and you know it’s your fault.

When the team got back from a case in California last week you guys got called away again and just got back yesterday. The California case was tough for you, and you feel like you didn’t get enough time to process through it since you were called away so soon.

You and Spencer haven’t had much alone time with all the cases, and it doesn’t help that you’d requested a separate hotel room from him. That’s when he started to worry, inviting you into his room but you would refuse. You knew you wouldn’t be sleeping, even if you were next to Spencer, and you didn’t want to keep him up.

The two of you are also in the phase where you spend the night at each other’s apartments—having been dating for a while—but last night you made up an excuse to stay alone at your apartment. So yeah, you’ve been avoiding him.

He had the right to worry. He was your boyfriend and before that, you were close friends. You know you should open up and talk about what’s going through your head, but you’d rather deal with it yourself, late at night… getting next to no sleep.

You should probably open up.

Spencer smiles at you when you look at him and you manage a smile back, dropping it when you turn to go to the kitchen. When you get there, you pull your mug from the cabinet and pour yourself coffee, putting nothing in it before you take a much needed sip.

Turning to go back to your desk, you stop when you see Spencer, almost spilling your coffee. “Jesus, you scared me.”

“Are you okay?” He ignores your comment, staring at you with worried eyes. You almost roll your eyes, tired of him asking this question, but you catch yourself. Instead, you try to respond but you can’t get a word out before Spencer starts again, “Don’t lie to me.”

You purse your lips, looking down at your coffee. “I haven’t been sleeping that well.” A vague answer, but an answer nonetheless. He most likely already knows why, figuring it out from when you first started avoiding him. As Spencer starts to reply, he’s interrupted by Penelope walking in.

“Good morning loves.” She walks over to you and Spencer, her colorful heels clicking against the tile floor. “Although, maybe not good. So, morning loves.” You note the file that she passes to Spencer—the only one on the team who doesn’t use an iPad—and your hopes of having a paperwork day dwindle down.

“Another case?” Spencer sighs as he opens the file, and you get a glimpse of dead bodies and crime scenes.

“Unfortunately yes. I wish serial killers would take a break, I’m getting so lonely without you guys here.” Penelope pouts.

“We can go out when we get back.” You promise her, knowing how much she loves going out for drinks. She immediately perks up and a smile forms on her face.

“I love you. Now enough flirting, it’s time for the briefing.” She walks away, leaving you and Spencer in an awkward silence with Penelope’s comment. You decide to walk away first while taking a sip of your coffee, and you hear Spencer trailing right behind you.

“This conversation-“ Spencer starts, but you interrupt him before he can finish.

“-Isn’t over. Yeah, I know.” You sigh, walking into the round table room and sitting at your usual seat with Spencer beside you.

You immediately start to feel bad about your attitude towards Spencer, but staying up all night and running on caffeine puts you on edge. Before you can apologize to him though, Penelope starts talking about the new case.

During the briefing, you don’t talk at all. You aren’t even really paying attention. Your guilt becomes too much, so you start to bounce your leg up and down. Of course Spencer notices, and he knows you feel bad. You never act like this, and Spencer knows it’s just the case from last week getting to you.

He reaches over, putting one of his hands above your knee to keep it from bouncing. You look at him hoping to mouth an apology, but he keeps his eyes on his file. So you take one of your hands, bringing it down to trace an “I’m sorry” with your finger on the back of his hand. He squeezes your leg, assuring you that it’s okay.

You still need to give him an actual apology, you know that. But the makeshift apology eases you a little bit, especially since Spencer now knows that you didn’t mean to act that rude.

“Wheels up in thirty.” Prentiss says and everyone starts to file out of the room. You and Spencer stand up, but neither of you leave the room, not needing to tell each other anything to know you need to talk.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt when everyone is out, and Spencer gives you a small smile.

“I know. I just wish you’d talk to me instead of avoiding me.” He puts his hands on your shoulders, pulling you in for a hug. You breathe in his scent, one that you’ve quite frankly missed. He eventually pulls away and leaves his hands on your arms, keeping you close.

He studies your face with his eyebrows furrowed, and lifts his hands to cup your cheeks. “You really haven’t been sleeping well.” He refers back to the conversation from earlier and you become confused as to what made him say this, but not for long. “The bags under your eyes are worse than normal.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Of course you’d noticed that they’d become worse. You look at yourself everyday, but you didn’t think it was that noticeable to where other people could see the change. Spencer, however, is not ‘other people’.

“So are yours.” He shrugs his shoulders, making it not seem like a big deal even though you both know it is. He’s not sleeping because you’re not next to him.

“Why are you avoiding me? You know it’s important to talk about cases if they’re getting to you. And if you don’t want to talk to me, then you can talk to Emily.” He says softly and you shake your head, changing your gaze to his chest while crossing your arms.

“I know. I just- my thoughts have been too much and I didn’t want to keep you awake with me. You don’t sleep well as it is and you’re very stubborn, so I know you would’ve stayed up to help me.”

“Because I love you and I don’t want you to suffer. I hate when you close yourself off and don’t let anyone help you.” He slides his hands back down to your arms to uncross them, and he brings you into another hug.

You wrap your arms around his waist, relaxing into his body and taking a deep breath. “I love you too. And I’ll be more open with you, I promise. I just want to get through this new case first.” You mumble and you feel him nod. He pulls away a little bit to give you a kiss, and you realize you almost forgot what his lips felt like against yours.

When he backs up away from you to leave the room, you grab his hand to stop him, noticing something out of the corner of your eye. “I’m pretty sure the team just saw all of that.” Spencer looks over to the window, so you do too and sure enough the team is standing in the bullpen, looking at you and Spencer.

When they notice you and Spencer looking at them, they all start to disperse except for Luke. He puts up his hands to form a heart as a playful gesture, and Penelope walks over to push him away from the window, Luke now laughing.

You let out a small giggle at the act before you walk out of the round table room with Spencer following you. You both grab your go bags from under your desk, making sure you have everything before making your way to the jet.

The two of you are the last ones to board and you don’t have to look up to know that everyone is looking, especially after what they saw.

Once the plane takes off, the team gathers around the big table to talk more about the case. You pitch in more than you did in the round table room, being able to focus more now that you and Spencer are better, although you’re still a little hazy from the lack of sleep.

When Prentiss gives everyone their jobs for when you land, you and Spencer decide to take over the couch. He sits towards the end which confuses you, since you both usually sit in the middle while you read a book and Spencer reads over your shoulder.

You’ve told him multiple times that he should read his own book—god knows how many he has— because you read at a much slower pace than him. He turns you down every time, claiming that he gets ‘to analyze the book better’ by reading at your pace.

“You can lay down.” Spencer interrupts your thoughts and he’s staring up at you while you just stand there. He pats the seat beside him, so you sit beside him before moving to lay down with your head on his lap.

You feel him move around a bit, and you’re about to ask him what he’s doing but then you feel something light being put on top of your upper body. Realizing it’s his cardigan, you smile and let yourself relax a bit more as one of his hands rests on your head, running through your hair, and the other rests on your waist.

When you wake up, you sit up quickly before remembering where you are. Spencer’s cardigan falls off your side so you grab it to give it back to him but when you look over, you see him sleeping.

He’s still sitting up right, hands in his lap now that you moved away from him. Smiling at the sight, you decide to let him sleep until the jet lands. You’re glad he was able to fall asleep because he hasn’t been sleeping well either, although that position doesn’t seem too comfortable.

You put his cardigan on his torso, hooking the top over his shoulders so it doesn’t fall down. You stay next to him and he unconsciously leans his body towards you, resting his head on your shoulder.

Taking the time to finally look around the jet, you notice nobody is paying attention to you except for Luke. When you make eye contact with him, he holds his hands up and makes a heart just like he did in the bullpen. You smile at him, giving him the middle finger just as Spencer wakes up.

“Who are you flipping off?” He mumbles sleepily, his head still on your shoulder. You bring your arm back down, letting out a small laugh.

“Luke, he made a heart with his hands again.” Spencer hums, and lifts his arm up to give Luke the middle finger like you did, which makes you laugh again.

#spencer reid #gender neutral reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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whereisten · 4 years

Text

Sweet Pea

A Haechan fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: Who knew the undead could be so..lovely. You hated arrogant singer Haechan when he was alive, but could you love him now that he was..dead?

Pairing: Rockstar!Haechan (turns into a zombie) x Journalist!female reader

Genre: fluff, angst, horror, a little smut

Word Count: 9K

Warnings: death mention, car accident mention, blood and gore mention, wild animal death, character death (and resurrection?), cursing, some violence, cheating mention, smut: mention of penetration.

(A/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT FOR THIS SERIES SO FAR!! We hope you enjoy everything we put out🥺❤️ i did not proofread this so sorry for any mistakes uh ha ha)

————

“Lisa..I really don’t want to interview Mr. I-Am-God’s-gift-To-This-World.” You sigh and hold your head down while sitting at your desk.

“Well, do you really want to switch and dive into the dark web for me?” Lisa turns to face you.

The two of you are journalists assigned to two very different topics for this week’s news articles.

You, being the one responsible for writing articles based on the music industry, were faced with the grueling task of interviewing pop rock’s most famous star, Haechan.

From what you had heard, Haechan was an arrogant bastard that gave all of his interviewers absolute hell. He gave sarcastic, abrupt answers that they could barely work from. But lucky for you, you were the one assigned to interview him as he promotes his second album in your town.

If there was anything worse than a crazy rockstar with a bad reputation, it was one that was incredibly good looking too.

You had to admit, from the pictures you had seen, Haechan was dangerously handsome with brown wavy hair and skin kissed by the sun itself. Girls swooned over the way his delicate fingers strummed his guitar and the way his soothing, high pitched voice sang words about love to them.

You had to remind yourself that it was all an act, however, he didn’t give a damn about them or anyone else besides himself.

Could interviewing him be worse than risking your life by going too deep into the dark web? Maybe.

You looked up at the ceiling and bit your lip as you thought about it.

Lisa scoffed and shook her head. “Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about it.”

“Listen…I-“

“You got this, what’s the worst he can do? Call security on you like that one magenta-haired rockstar guy did to his makeup artist?”

You groaned and placed your head back down onto your arms. But she was right, what was the worst that could happen?

———

[The Next Day]

You were let into Haechan’s dressing room by his manager.

“Well, good luck in there.” His manager raised his brows and quickly closed the door. It felt like you were being let into a Lion’s cage with no way out.

You took a deep breath. Your hair was tied back, your bun felt tighter than it did five minutes ago. You smoothed your hands over your pencil skirt and quickly fixed the collar of your button down shirt.

When you turned around, you saw the legend himself, typing on his iPhone. He was probably tweeting something out to his 10 million followers or coming up with some “sweet” caption for his Instagram groupies.

You cleared your throat, you didn’t want to interrupt him, but you really didn’t have much time.

“Excuse me...Mr. Lee?”

He didn't respond, he kept typing.

“Mr. Lee?!” You said with more volume.

He rolled his eyes and looked up. You felt your breath get caught in your chest. He was magnificent. Not a flaw in sight. His eyes were of a perfect crescent shape and sparkles in the light of the vanity mirror. And his lips were a beautiful heart shape as they puckered before he spoke.

“Yes?” He answered with annoyance in his tone.

“My name is y/n, I’m here to ask a few questions.”

“Oh..I see, well, I’m not really into the “boorish teacher type” but I’m sure we can make it work with some role playing..” Haechan bites his bottom lip as he eyes you up and down.

“Um..I..”

He places his phone down and walks over to you.

“Tell me, teacher, do you have a ruler to spank me with?”

You stumble backwards, your back hitting the door.

“I-I from the Neo Chronicles actually, I am here to interview you.”

He stands over you in his leather jacket, placing his hand on the door beside your head as you cower. He seems to be misunderstanding your purpose for being there, but you did like being close to him. He smelled like fresh lemons and summer. His warmth was unlike anything else and with his face being so close to yours, you could see every beauty mark. You knew any other person would’ve been a puddle had they been this close to him, but you were growing to be quite annoyed.

He leans down to whisper in your ear. “Oh, so you want to be a journalist, okay then so you want to record me? I can make any sound you’d like me to make, all you have to do is touch the right spots.” He says seductively while staring down your shirt.

You shiver and shake off your goosebumps. “Oh my God, Haechan! I’m just here to ask a few questions okay?! I’m not some..escort!”

He steps back and furrows his brows. “What? Then what the hell are you here for?”

“I’m the journalist!” You show him your badge with your name on it as it hung from a lanyard around your neck.

He rolls his eyes and plops down into his chair.

“Boring. Go on.”

He waves a hand and motions for you to continue.

You sigh and hurry through your notes so you can get the hell out of there and away from this weird man.

“Okay, well let’s start off with your name. Your real name is Lee Donghyuk, why did you choose ‘Haechan’ as your stage name?”

“Why did you choose to pair that shirt with those god awful shoes?” Haechan begins to type on his phone again.

This little brat.

“Haechan, please take my questions seriously, your manager has only given me ten minutes with you.”

“And yet, I could be doing so much more with our time than answering your useless questions..” he stops typing and looks you up and down again. “I could be giving you an interview to remember, don’t you think?”

You chuckle. “No offense, but you’re not my type, and also, I’m faithful to my boyfriend.” The first part was a lie, but you hoped he would feel a blow to his ego.

He scoffs. “Honey..I’m everyone’s type..”

“Anyway...what inspired you the most when writing this new album of yours?”

“Hmmm...you.”

You slam your iPad down onto the counter. “We don’t even know each other.”

“I wasn’t finished...Youuuutube.” Haechan smirks as you get more and more visibly upset.

“Haechan...I respect your musicianship, but you’re making this interview really difficult. I can’t do my job if you keep acting like this.” You try to play nice, maybe that would work.

“Well you’re not very good at this job, I have another job for you, if you’d like to try that.”

You scoff and raise your eyebrows. “You know what…”

He places his phone down and crosses his arms. “What? Is it time for the part of the interview where you storm off back to your little cubicle and fabricate an entire interview with bullshit answers I never gave?”

You remain still, silently thinking of ways to kill this man without being caught.

You grit your teeth.

“Write a nice and pleasing story about me, sweetheart. I’ll be anticipating it.” He gets up and walks towards the door but you step in front of him to stop him.

“Listen, you little twat—“

He furrows his brows and gives you a frightening glare. “No, you listen. I’m the rockstar here, I don’t owe you anything, I’m worth so much money, you wouldn’t be able to wrap your head around it if you tried. You don’t matter to me or to anyone else. There’s 5 million of you and only one of me, the only difference between you and them is that other journalists are smart enough to get on their knees and prove that they’re worth a celebrity’s time. Now, miss—what was your name again?”

“Y/n.” You say through tight lips.

“Move.”

You step to the side as he walks past you, bumping into your shoulder on purpose before leaving.

You tried your best not to cry as you headed home that evening. You knew he was an asshole but you didn’t think he’d be *that* bad. You were thankful that you’d never have to see him again, but you hated the fact that it was up to you to create some story about your interview and fake his answers so that he’d remain a positive figure in the spotlight.

It pained you to lie. Would you risk your job to just write about your actual experience and expose him for who he really was? No. You couldn’t do that, you needed this job. So you went home to your boyfriend.

But your boyfriend wasn’t there. He came home about two hours late.

“What happened, Mark?” You sat up in the bed and watched him take his work uniform off.

“Oh, nothing, y/n. The boss just kept me late to finish up some work.”

Mark was lying through his teeth and you knew it. You had your suspicions for a few months now, for he always came home late with that excuse. But you ignored your feelings for tonight, you just wanted him to cuddle you as you complained about your “interview” with one of the worst celebrities alive.

Mark held you close and comforted you as you told him your worries of being bad at your job. He listened carefully, but thought about how he had planned to tell you the truth. He wasn’t working at all. He was staying home with another woman during the day, doing an online job and spending time with her while he made money. She was pregnant and Mark knew that he would have to break the news to you, but he couldn’t, not now while you were at your lowest.

He rubs your back as you fall asleep.

————

[The Next Day]

“Breaking News. There’s been a massive accident on Highway 15. Several injuries and possible deaths are being reported. We are on standby as we gain more information from those at the scene.”

You look up from your computer in your cubicle and at the TV above you.

“Coming to you live from exit 45, it seems that there is a car on fire and an overturned tour bus. Upon closer inspection. It seems that it is the tour bus of none other than pop star, Haechan.”

Your eyes widen. Gasps fill the room as everyone watches the live footage from the scene.

“As of now, we are unsure if Haechan is in the bus..”

The reporter continues, but your focus shifts to the car on fire.

“Oh my God, y/n, what if—“ Lisa starts but you shush her with your finger in the air.

Your brows furrow as you stand up and take a closer look.

A red Dodge Challenger...the car on fire is a red Dodge Challenger.

No.

You take a closer look at the license plate and see ‘WTERMLN.’ That’s his personalized license plate.

You pull your phone out and dial Mark. But there’s no answer. Lisa places her hand in yours and squeezes it. “Y/n..I’m sure he’s fine.”

You dial him over and over again but still no answer. You watch in horror as they begin to pull bodies out from the cars and the bus, they’re covered but your heart aches.

“Breaking news. It has been confirmed that Haechan is of the casualties lost from this terrible accident.”

While the office cries out in a collective “no!,” You run out to the bathroom and start to cry by yourself.

“Mark..please answer.”

But he doesn’t, and a few hours later, you get a call from the hospital informing you that Mark was also killed in the accident.

———

[1 Week Later]

Days go by and you mourn Mark’s death. You can’t fathom that he’s really gone. Your apartment feels strange and empty. And his family didn’t make things any easier, they didn’t speak with you or tell you anything. They acted like you were some stranger.

“You’re not invited to the funeral, we are sorry.” You hear Mark’s mother say over the phone and before you can ask why, the line goes dead. Tears flow from your face like a waterfall. How could they do this to you? Did they really dislike you this much?

The world mourned Haechan’s death, everyone was shocked, vigils were held everywhere in the world. From Brazil to Japan, and Ghana to Turkey. He had a massive impact on the world as musicians from all over covered his songs and sang them on YouTube or in the streets for live entertainment.

Everywhere you went, you saw RIP posters or T shirts with his face on them. His album was released early and topped the charts in all countries. The world was grieving but finding comfort in his music.

But none of that mattered to you, you were truly alone, left to an empty apartment and crowded with memories of your moments with Mark.

They wouldn’t even let you into the hospital because Haechan was there too and there was so much ruckus with the media. The deaths of everyone else never made the news. It was all about Haechan. And that made you even more upset. They painted him out to be some perfect angel, if only they knew what a jerk he was.

———

[Two Weeks Later]

Your family and friends did the best they could to help you move on, but you just couldn’t.

Everything reminded you of Mark, you couldn’t eat or sleep properly.

One day as you jogged through the park to clear your mind, you ran into an old woman by accident.

You had been staring at the fountain that you and Mark used to sit at while eating treats from the food trucks nearby. You didn’t see her standing in the walkway throwing pieces of bread to ducks.

“Oh, I am SO sorry.” You reach out to help her up, but she only laughed.

“That is okay, dear..” she gasped as she stared deeply into your eyes, her curly white hair fell into her face. She quickly moved it out of the way and continued to stare at you intently. Her brows furrowed.

“Dear...you are in pain, so much pain.”

You gasped as your mouth fell open. She read you like an open book and your eyes weren’t even red from crying.

“I-“ you stuttered.

“I can help you, I am a psychic, come to this address, tonight at 7. I will help you.” She quickly handed you a card. You look down at it in your hand then looked back up to respond but by the time you looked up, she had already started walking away. You stepped towards her.

“Ma’am?”

Then suddenly a bicyclist ran right in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. You lost sight of her and turned to head home. You thought about how strange everything was, but even more strange was your desire to actually show up to her place.

You were welcomed in exactly at 7.

The door creaked as did the floor once you stepped inside.

“Dear..I am so happy you came.”

“What is this about? How can you help me?”

You looked around the strange cabin decorated with beads and distinct ornaments hanging from the ceiling.

“You’ve lost someone dear to you, haven’t you? Mark..that’s his name.” She said as she sat down at a table in the center of the room.

Your mouth fell open. “How do you..how do you know that?”

“I’m a psychic, I see things.” She said with a wide smile.

You raised your brows. “Yet, you couldn’t see me running towards you this morning.”

She laughed out. “I see MOST things. Take a seat.”

You sat down across from her.

“What if I told you that you could bring him back and be happy again?”

“No..no that’s not possible.” You shake your head.

“But it is, dear. And I’m gonna show you how.”

“This isn’t right, don’t get me wrong..I miss him..I miss him so much, but I can’t do this.”

You swallowed hard as you started to tear up.

“Why not? Death took him away too soon, right? He’s a young man, he deserves a second chance at life and you deserve to be loved.” The old lady held her hands out. “Here, take my hands.”

You thought about what she had said, could this be possible? Could you be reunited with Mark?

It sounded too good to be true. But you were desperate. You held her hands.

“My father passed away when I was just two years old. But I grew up with him right in front of my very own eyes. My mother was able to bring him back to life so he could be with her and raise me. It is possible, I’ve seen it work firsthand and I want to provide you with this opportunity so you will no longer feel the pain that my mother felt.”

“Why? Why do you want to help me? You don’t even know me.”

“Because..I know that I have a way to make things right.” She reaches under the table and picks up what looks like a piece of granite stone. It has strange writing on it in a language you don’t understand.

“I can’t sit by and watch people suffer.”

“What is this?”

“Listen carefully, this is what you must do. Take this tablet to your dwelling, keep it on a table in the room that the two of you spent your most time in. Surround it with objects that Mark used most when he was alive, then light five candles and repeat these words five times.”

She hands you a crumpled up piece of paper.

“You must say this sternly, do not falter or have weakness, or it will not work.”

“But what if—“ you still stare at the rock in confusion.

“You must do this at 8:23 tonight for it is when the full moon will be at its strongest. It will protect you from other beings that will try to enter our world.”

“Wait, other beings?..”

A harsh knock fills the room. You look behind her and see a door with all sorts of bolts and chains on it from the bottom to the top. She moved to the side to block your view of it.

“You must leave now!.” She jumps up from her chair and grabs your hand.

“Oh! Okay!” You walk hurriedly to the door as she practically pushes you towards it.

“May you be blessed, my child.”

“Thank-“ the door shuts in your face and you hear the lock turn.

You think about all that’s happened and wonder if you should really try to bring him back.

You decide to sit in the center of the living room by the coffee table, where you would play video games with Mark, and lay out items that reminded you of him. His favorite hat, his watermelon charm, and several pictures of the two of you together.

You turn all of the lights in the apartment off after you’ve lit five candles as instructed.

You sighed as you sat down. “Please bring him back to me, I love him.”

You place your hands over the tablet and read the words on the paper out loud, in your best imitation of Latin.

“Anima corpori, fuerit corpus totem resurgent.”

You repeat it four more times. The flames go out.

A gust of wind blows through your apartment, causing your blinds to shake and your hair to blow forward slightly.

Your eyes widen as you sit in the darkness.

You sit in silence and wait for the unknown. Would he just pop up? Would he knock at your door? Did you say “copori” or “corpori”?

You breathe heavily and sit for about 2 minutes in the darkness, trying not to shake as you feel the air become crisp and freezing. You jump up from the floor and turn your lights on.

Nothing’s changed. You search around the apartment and don’t find him, so you begin to feel a sense of defeat. With tears in your eyes you take a shower then fall asleep. How could you be so desperate? You felt like a fool, there was no way this crazy old lady knew what she was talking about, she just wanted to see you act like a fool.

He was never coming back, you had to accept that.

———

[The Next Day]

You’re woken up by glass breaking.

You hop out of your bed and grab your baseball bat that Mark gave you for protection.

Someone had broken into your apartment. You quietly around the corner with your back against the wall.

When you peak out, you see that your door was hanging from its hinges. Your mouth fell open. Whoever this was, was clearly big and hefty, powerful enough to break down your freaking door.

What damage could this baseball bat do?

You heard grumbling and groaning sounds as the person shuffled through your fridge.

You stepped closer with your bat in hand.

But when you got a closer look, you saw that the person was small, slim and...grey.

They smelled too, like raw meat from the butchers market or more specifically, rotting flesh.

“Hey!” You called out and swung your bat up high.

They spun around quickly. Your eyes widened in shock.

It was leather jacket wearing...Haechan?

He grabbed the bat from you, snapping it in two before throwing it across the apartment.

He was incredibly strong, but you couldn’t focus as he then grabbed your ankles and pinned you onto the kitchen counter.

“FOOD!” He yelled.

His eyes were of a white color, like he was blind, his face was a mix of purple, green, blue and grey, and bone in his neck stuck out of his skin. He looked—dead.

His fingers were frigid cold as he gripped your skin.

You looked in horror at him, confused. Had he not been holding you, you probably would’ve lost all feeling in your legs at the sight of him and collapsed onto the floor.

“Haechan?? How is this..how is this possible?”

“GIVE ME FOOD.” He yells again as green spit oozes out of his eyes and mouth, you nearly pass out from his smell.

“Let go!!” You yell.

“IM HUNGRY.” He dashes his arms across the counter in one sweep, causing all of your utensils to scatter across the floor.

“Okay, okay! Um..I..I don’t have anything here..oh my God what the fuck is happening?”

Between the mess in your kitchen and Haechan sounding like the Hulk while looking like something from the Walking Dead, you didn’t know what to do. Was it possible that you accidentally brought Haechan back instead of Mark?

“BURGER.” Haechan grabs you by the collar and groans.

You nod quickly. “Okay! There’s a McDonald’s down the street, I’ll be right back, um.. stay here.”

Haechan shakes his head violently. “RAW..RAW.”

“Okay! You like it raw, I get it, you can let me go now!” You fling your freezer door open and shuffle through your collection of ice cream, hoping to find a frozen package of beef.

Haechan bangs on the counter and grumbles as you search.

“Found it!” You quickly hand him the package and watch as he tears the plastic cover off and devours the raw meat.

Your face crinkles in disgust. What have you done?

About thirty minutes pass and Haechan slowly starts to look and smell better. His eyes have cleared and returned to their brown color, the green and purplish veins no longer stick out as his skin returns to its normal, warm color. He looks more like a human than a monster. However, the bone in his neck still sticks out.

This all felt like a dream...or nightmare, rather.

“Where am I?” He opens his eyes slowly.

You hand him a napkin to clean up the blood and meat around his mouth.

“You’re at my apartment..Um..do you remember me?”

He squints as he stares at you. “I don’t remember much..”

You step closer. “What do you remember?”

“I remember the music, the crowds, my mother..my father.. but that’s it.”

Your brows raise. “You don’t remember who you are? You’re Haechan, you have the biggest ego in the land, you treat people like crap and you even told me I meant nothing.”

“What? I did that? But why?” Haechan looks so surprised, you can’t help but feel sorry for him. He rubs his neck, wincing at the pain he feels when he brushes his palm over the exposed bone. “Why does my neck hurt?”

You shake your head. “It wasn’t supposed to be you..” you whisper quietly.

“What?”

“You’re only here...because I summoned you. There was a big accident a few weeks ago and..you died..my boyfriend died too. I was desperate..I tried to bring him back.” You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m an idiot. Because now I’ve brought you back instead.”

“I DIED?” Haechan sits forward.

“Yeah, but you were a dick, I just want my Mark back, not you.” You turn away from him, he looks up with sad eyes.

“I don’t remember who I was before, but I apologize for whatever I did.” His tone was so sweet, he was virtually unrecognizable from the man you interviewed.

“That’s fine, Haechan, but you’re missing the point. You’re back now and I don’t know what to do with you. You can’t leave because then everyone will wonder how you’re alive again especially after they’ve spent so much time mourning you.” You rub your temple.

“Woahhh. I was a superstar?”

“Yes, a superstar I hated.”

“I don’t feel so good.” Haechan clutches his stomach.

You stand up straight. “What do you mean?”

“I feel..sick.” He starts to rock back and forth, you start to see the color drain from his hands and face. His tone becomes deeper, he starts to sound more and more like he did before he ate.

“Shit..it’s happening again.”

Haechan groans and grabs onto the table as he transforms back into what seems to be his zombie form.

“Need..to EAT.”

“Oh my God, your appetite is crazy.” You rush to your freezer and find a frozen chicken.

You turn around to toss it to him, but Haechan is already behind you, he growls and grabs the chicken from your hands.

With wide eyes, you watch him devour yet another piece of raw meat.

When he’s done he sits back in the chair and lets out a loud belch. You chuckle as his cute and handsome face returns to normal.

But you couldn’t ignore the fact that you truly had no idea what to do with him.

“You can kill me..since you hate me.” Haechan says softly while staring at the table.

“What is this..thing I’ve become..I don’t know why it’s happening, but when the hunger kicks in, I feel like eating everything to satisfy it. My mind goes blank, I can’t even form normal thoughts. I only see red. I’m sorry for doing this to you, I’m sorry for breaking in.”

Your heart breaks when you hear him apologize and look up at you somberly. “No..it’s not your fault. It’s mine, and I won’t kill you. I’ll find a way. I have to find her.” You pick your bag up and grab your car keys.

“Where are you going?” He stands up fast.

“Stay here, I have to find the lady that got me into this shit.”

———

You bang against her door. “Open the door, lady!”

After a few minutes, she reluctantly opens the door. “Yes?”

You push yourself into her house.

“Hey!” She yells to try to stop you.

“What the hell? You set me up!”

She scoffs. “I did no such thing! I gave you the tools you needed.”

“I have a zombie in my apartment! He goes berserk, like full frickin monster mode when he doesn’t eat raw meat for just 30 minutes! Do you know how crazy this is?!”

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry, you must not have done the spell correctly.”

“No! No, don’t blame this on me, I know you gave me that cursed tablet because you didn’t want it in your house anymore! I knew it was too good to be true but I trusted you! And I have no fucking clue why!”

You stepped closer to her as you yelled.

“You have to fix this!”

Her face fell. She had no idea that you would’ve suspected she was trying to use you to get rid of her curse, but you were right.

She sighs. “Dear...there is no way to get rid of this curse..it is final.”

“Final my ass! I should’ve brought him here so he can eat YOU! But you’d probably taste like shit because you’re full of it!”

A loud groan and beastly sound comes out from behind that same door.

“Shhh!! Lower your voice!” She places her finger on your mouth.

Your brows furrow. “Is that...your dad?”

She looks to the floor. “It’s..my son.”

The beast wails loudly.

“I thought...if I gave you the tablet, he would be released from this curse..but I was wrong. He doesn’t seem to be getting any better.”

“Are you serious? You knew about this..you knew what would happen, yet you let me do it too?” You scoffed.

She nods. “I am sorry, dear, but let me help you.”

She walks to her kitchen and brings back a large jar of lavender colored powder.

“If you mix 1 teaspoon of this powder with water and give it to him every day..he will be “normal” for 24 hours.”

“And what happens when it runs out? How do I stop him from eating everyone and everything in sight?” You snap back.

“I will be here, come back to me and I’ll give you more but this should last you for at least a year.”

“Really? So you’re telling me that there’s 365 teaspoons worth in this jar? Also, why don’t you use it on your son?”

She closes her eyes. “I’ve been doing this for twenty years, I’ve experimented with him, trying to find a permanent solution, however, when I cast a spell on him, it gave his body and mind a tolerance to this potion, meaning that it no longer has an effect on him.”

“Where do you get this from?”

She chuckles and opens her eyes as she looks out of a window. “From the fairies...they do not wish to be seen, but if you offer them something, they will leave a gift.”

You take the jar from her. “I am going to try this..if it doesn’t work, I’ll be back and I’ll be sure to bring him.”

“I hope that you and your lover can live peacefully in the end, dear.”

“Oh, that’s the thing, he’s not my lover.” you roll your eyes and slam her door shut.

———

[2 Months Later]

Living with zombie Haechan was..interesting. The potion worked and Haechan didn’t have those crazed hunger pings that turned him into a monster straight out of an 80s film.

You were thankful that he wasn’t like who he was before the accident, an ignorant asshole. He was incredibly sweet and helpful. He didn’t speak much because of his decaying brain, but he kept you company and helped to clean.

You bought him clothes and eventually replaced them with Mark’s, for you couldn’t bear to see his things anymore.

You’d leave for work and come home to see him fixing things like the cabinet doors he broke.

“I don’t remember much, but I do remember my father..he never liked to watch me sing at school..he’d rather I have a hammer in my hand. He taught me how to fix most things when I was just 7 years old. But my mother..she supported everything I did..I miss her.”

Haechan said quietly as you both ate dinner. You ate spaghetti and meatballs, he ate the same thing but the uncooked version of course.

You felt a slight pain in your heart as you thought about how this must’ve been for him. Surely, he would want to console his mother and tell her that he’s okay, but he couldn’t.

You helped him dye his hair a dark red color and gave him a new haircut. His luscious licks were now gone, but if he wanted to go outside, he’d have to look different than he did before.

So you bought him round glasses and a scarf to wear to conceal his broken neck bone whenever you went to the supermarket together.

You still missed Mark, but you had been so busy with caring for Haechan that you sometimes forget the loss and pain.

You cleared your throat and thought of something quickly to distract Haechan from thinking about his mother.

“What is something that you would like to do? For example, I’m sure you couldn't go ice skating when you were famous right?”

Haechan chews and looks up to his right as he tries to remember. “I don’t think I’ve ever done that.”

“Would you like to?” You say with hopeful eyes.

Haechan chuckles and smiles at you, making your heart run wild. What was this feeling? Why did he make your chest weak?

Was it this new undercut that he had? Or perhaps the dazzling smile paired with beautiful eyes and a dainty nose?

“When I’m here alone, I watch TV and I saw an advertisement for..the fair?” He asks innocently.

“Oh! You want to go to the fair?” Your eyes widen.

“Yes.” He nods.

———

[The Next Day]

Haechan tightens his scarf around his neck tightly before the two of you get on the next ride.

“I like this one a lot, we used to ride it over and over, me and M-“ you stop before saying his name.

“Mark?” Haechan sees your hesitancy. He wishes you wouldn’t be in pain over his death anymore. He didn’t like seeing you like this, he wanted you to be happy, especially when you were around him, for your smile felt like a garden of bright flowers had bloomed simultaneously.

“Yeah..” you hold your head down.

The man at the ride lets the two of you on. It’s the pirate ship that swings back and forth, rotating you guys upside down as you scream your heads off.

Haechan holds onto you for dear life as you are flipped over in the air and held there for nearly 5 seconds.

You giggle while he screams and closes his eyes tightly.

When the ride is finally over, you jump up from your seat and take his hand in yours. He freezes and stares at your hand. It was the first time you had touched him. He felt sparks fly from your beautiful fingers to decorate his skin.

“Come on!” You say excitedly while beaming.

He smiles like he’s just seen gold and jumps up from his seat as well.

The two of you continue on through the fair, going on the worst rides just so you can laugh at how Haechan suffers through them.

After about an hour and a half, you decide to get some to eat.

Haechan looks up at the menu from a food truck.

“Uhhh..do you have anything...uncooked?”

“Uncooked? Like..raw?” The chef looks at him with concern.

“Yeah. Like just a turkey leg..without the smoke?”

You run up to him after leaving the restroom. You can see from the puzzled look on the man’s face that the conversation doesn’t seem to be going well.

“It’s for our dog!” You quickly exclaim while wrapping your arm around Haechan’s. He once again felt soft from your touch. He loved being close to you, seeing you smile, feeling your warmth and love. The two of you had grown close as time went by, and even though he slept on your couch, he’d never felt more at home.

The man nods and hands Haechan a raw turkey leg. You get a hot dog and lead Haechan to a corner of the park where he can eat his food without being watched.

The two of you ate quickly as you hid, the sun was starting to set and you were growing tired.

“No one seems to recognize you!” You take a bite of your hot dog.

Haechan nods.

“It’s the haircut..thank you, by the way.”

You nod. “You’re welcome, sunny.”

Haechan stops chewing, his eyes widen. Did you just come up with a cute nickname for him?

A piece of meat dangles from his mouth.

You giggle as he stares. “What? Don’t choke now.”

He quickly chews and swallows. “Why ‘sunny?’’

You shrug your shoulders. “Hmmm i don’t know,..you’re bright..like the sun!”

Haechan blushes. “You think I’m bright?”

“When you’re not full monster mode, yeah..”

“What can I call you then...hmmm...sweet pea!”

You chuckle and throw your head back. Haechan’s smile widens.

“Sweet pea?”

“Yes! Because you’re sweet and small like a pea,”

Haechan teases and steps closer to you.

“I am NOT small.” You wave a finger.

“You’re shorter than me so…”

You laugh and turn away from his strong gaze. “well, I guess you have …”

You stop in your tracks when you recognize the brown haired man stepping out of the restrooms.

No, it couldn’t be.

You walk up to him and tap his shoulder.

“Mark?”

Haechan follows behind you.

Mark turns to you slowly, gulping as he feels your touch.

“Y/n.. I can explain.”

You step back and bump into Haechan while covering your face with shaking hands.

“What’s wrong?” Haechan asks.

Mark steps forward.

“I-I..wait, it worked after all?” You tear up.

“What—are you talking about?” Mark’s brows furrow.

“You died and I brought you back to life..but..”

Mark shakes his head, thinking that you aren’t handling his “death” well.

“Y/n..no..I didn’t die..I faked my death, I’m sorry..I-I had to.”

“What?!” Your hands fall from your face.

“Baby, who’s this?” A pregnant woman walks up to Mark while holding her back and wincing in pain.

“This is..y/n.”

She holds her hand out for you to shake, but you glare at Mark.

“Baby? Mark, what...is this..are you messing with me right now? Am I on camera? Haha very funny, jokes over.” You hold your hands out and look around you for the cameras, for none of this made sense.

Mark sighs. “Y/n..I was going to tell you, but I couldn’t. I cheated on you with her and got her pregnant. I got into the accident but left the vehicle as fast as I could and escaped the fire. Im fine but..I told everyone to tell you that I died.”

You chuckled and bent over.

“I’m serious..I needed to start over..without you.” He continued.

You stand up straight with tears flowing down your cheeks. “Was I that bad, Mark? Was I that worthless?” Your voice cracked.

“Did I mean nothing to you?”

Mark shook his head. “No..you were everything to me. Which is why I did what I did like a coward, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Do you have any fucking idea how much I cried over you? What I DID for you?” Your voice starts to raise.

Mark’s mouth falls open into silence, for there is truly no excuse for his shitty actions.

“You’re a lying bastard and I wish you nothing but the pain I felt when I thought you were dead.” Upset wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe your feeling right now.

Haechan also grows upset when he sees how hurt you are.

“You know what? I’m really hungry right now.” Haechan stepped forward, a low growl escaping him. You stepped in front of him and held his hand.

“No..”

“You look familiar…” the woman beside Mark speaks as she looks at Haechan.

“And you look like the whore my boyfriend, wait, EX boyfriend knocked up! Come on, let’s get out of here.” You took Haechan’s hand and led him out of the park.

You drove in silence, a million thoughts running through your head. Once again, you felt like a fool.

Later that night, you crawled into bed and sobbed quietly, but Haechan heard you.

He opened your door slowly.

“Sweet pea?” He says softly in the darkness.

You can’t help but laugh when you hear the nickname.

Haechan smiles when he hears it.

“Yes, sunny.”

“Do you need a hug?”

You roll over onto your back and swipe at your eyes. “Yes, please.”

Haechan climbs into your bed and pulls you into his arms tightly. You place your hands over his as he rests his chin on top of your head, and the two of you fall asleep soon after.

The next day, you wake up to Haechan rustling through your pantry.

He wails and groans loudly. You jump out of bed.

“Shit. I’m late.”

You run out to the kitchen, Haechan tosses things out of the fridge while green and purple veins bulge from his grey skin. His hair is messy and great and he sounds demonic as he screams. You dodge his thrashing arms and quickly mix the potion for him.

You hold his head and keep him still with both hands.

“Haechan! Drink! Now!” You look into his white eyes.

You grab the glass and pour the liquid into his mouth.

24 hours was up from about 30 minutes before you woke up. You had to be on time or Haechan would quickly change into zombie mode and could potentially leave the apartment to find someone to eat. This was the downside to having him around. But it was your curse and you had to deal with it.

You always thought it fascinating how he never tried to eat you.

Haechan calms down and sits onto the floor while panting.

He holds your hand and looks up at you with teary eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry ..I’ll clean this up, I promise.”

“It’s okay, Haechan.” You sigh and head back to bed.

———

[Three Months Later]

You and Haechan live together happily, you slowly get closer, sleeping together in bed on most nights and doing coupling things like going to the movies or taking dancing lessons.

He helped you get over Mark, he made you feel so loved.

He couldn’t talk much so he was unable to get a regular job. But one day, the two of you walked by a floral shop. Haechan stopped walking and stared at the lilies. They were beautiful.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

You smiled as you touched the flowers.

“Yeah..Like you.”

You felt your face become warm as he stared into your eyes.

“I like flowers, which explains why I like you.”

Haechan says smoothly.

“You like me?” You say giddily and tug his hand.

Haechan rolls his eyes. “You’re cute.”

“What if you worked at a place like this since you like flowers?”

He nods “I’d love that.”

And so, you spoke to the owner and helped him get a job there. Of course, he’d have to wear his scarf to conceal his “scar,” but other than that, he would have no issue with preparing bouquets and cleaning up.

He’d bring home flowers for you all the time, making you smile and forget all about the pain you felt months ago.

——

“Sunny!” You cry out as Haechan flips you over his shoulder and takes you to the bathroom.

“Ha! I love hearing you call my name, baby.”

He helps you into the shower then steps in with you.

“Ah! I don’t have much time..”

“I know, that’s why I’m going to help you shower..”

He rubs you down with body wash, slowly caressing your body as you fall weak in his hands.

His touch was soothing, gentle..

“Are you sure you don’t want to call out sick today?”

He whispers into your ear as his hands trail down your abdomen.

You turn to him and kiss him for the first time. It felt like you were skydiving, falling through the blue sky without any indication of stopping, you felt a rush so indescribable your mind went blank.

Haechan can only think of how beautiful you are, he doesn’t want this moment to ever end. You’re refreshing and his chest feels like a hundred butterflies are roaming around freely in it.

He kisses you back slowly tracing his tongue over your lips. You inhale each other’s breath, closing your eyes and adoring the warmth of each other’s skin.

When you have finished showering together, Haechan carries you to the room and lays you down onto the bed. He crawls over you and lays his lips back onto yours while gently pressing his hands onto your sides.

You moan and hold yourself up on your elbows.

You hold his face in between your hands while you kiss for what feels like hours. He gives your thighs a light squeeze.

You widen your legs and fall back into the bed.

“I don’t have much time, go ahead.” You say breathily into his ear.

He bites his bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “Absolutely.”

He pushes into you slowly, merging your bodies in the bright room and on the plush bed for the first time.

You gripped his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your fingers trailed up to his soft hair as he kissed your neck.

It felt magical, unreal, you felt like you had a small piece of heaven during your moment together.

Haechan whispers “I love you.” as the two of you lay in bed after.

“Is that code for “call in sick so we can do it again”?” You tease him before kissing his nose.

——

[6 Months Later]

You were running out of time to find more powder for your solution. You tried not to be worried in front of Haechan but he knew you were.

You were both worried about the future of your relationship.

You headed to the old lady’s cabin, hoping to get more.

But when you reached the exact spot, you were frightened to see an empty area littered with black dust.

“No..this can’t be..what the-?”

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man on a bicycle passing by asked you.

“Yes, where is the cabin that was here?”

“You’re looking at it, honey. There was a fire about three months ago. The sweet old lady that lived in it passed away after inhaling too much smoke..”

Your mouth fell open as you searched the area. This couldn’t be real. How would you get the solution now?

———

[A Few Days Later]

You searched the Internet long and hard for a solution but found nothing. You were playing a dangerous game by shortening the amount you gave him, in hopes that it would last longer and give you more time.

But instead of the effects lasting for 24 hours, they’d only last for 18 before he started to grumble while the two of you laid in bed together.

You’d quickly grab some meat from the closest supermarket and feed it to him, but that also meant that you couldn’t sleep at night.

“Hey..you’ve been at it all day. What are you looking for?” Lisa asks you one day at work.

The truth was, you couldn’t tell anyone about your predicament.

“I..it’s nothing, it’s just some old recipe I’m looking for.”

“Oh really? What’s it called?”

“I’m not sure, my mom used to make it, but it involves some pretty scarce materials.”

“Ohhhh..sounds interesting, well, what I can tell you is that when I did research on the dark web, I found a website that included weird stuff like 16th century recipes for potions and shit, it was crazy. They’d be like “you must drink four quarts of animal blood for this to work.” Wild.” Lisa shook her head and went back to her desk.

What if you needed to delve deeper into the internet, what if you searched for the potion on the dark web?

No, you couldn’t, you’d just be asking for trouble.

Later that day when you went to pick Haechan up from your work, you saw that the shop had been destroyed, glass and flowers were scattered all over. The door had been ripped off and thrown across the floor.

You stepped out of the car but was stopped by the owner.

“Get out of here! You’re the reason for this! What the hell is wrong with your boyfriend? Look at what he did to her!” The owner pointed to another worker at the shop.

She was whimpering and holding out her arm. When you looked closely, you saw that she had been bitten. A chunk of her arm was missing. Your eyes widened as you backed away.

The potion..it wore off.

“Oh no..” barely left your lips.

“He was eating her like a maniac! I came just in time to run him out!”

The owner yelled as you jumped back into your car.

You drove around the area looking for him. You're on the brink of a full meltdown. What if he had attacked someone else? What if the police tried to get him and failed? How many more people could he hurt?

You had to find him...now.

You parked the car and ran around a park nearby. It was relatively quiet until you heard bones cracking. You snapped your head in the direction of the sound and rushed towards it.

You heard the high pitched cry of an animal. You peered through the bushes and saw a terrifying scene.

Haechan guzzles down the meat of a deer. He grumbles and makes demonic sounds as the deer’s eyes close slowly.

“Haechan..” you croak out quietly.

His head snaps up towards you while he still devours the intestines of the poor animal.

“Haechan..stop.. please..” you start to tear up. Your lover is unrecognizable in front of you, grey and purple skin and black fingernails. His mouth and chin is covered in blood and guts and his teeth are nearly fully decayed and yellow. His hair falls from his scalp like leaves fall from a tree.

He stands up slowly as he finally comes to realize who you are. He steps towards you but you don’t back away, you only stand there and cry.

“I’m sorry..I’m sorry I couldn’t help you in time.”

You sob.

He breathes heavily and looks into your eyes, he’s confused because he doesn’t feel the need to feed on you, he feels like...crying, and the monster doesn’t know why.

You take him to your car and drive him home while he eats what’s left of the deer. The last thing you wanted was a dead deer in your car, but it was the only thing that kept him from thrashing around and being dangerous towards you. Once there, you use chains to tie him to a chair. You pour out the final teaspoon of powder and mix the drink.

He yells and groans as you give it to him to drink. You had never seen him this bad before. He has holes in his grey skin and his veins are now black. He was decaying faster than ever before.

His eyes were completely white and he spat out black blood as he yelled and strained against the chains.

“Haechan..please..baby it’s me, sweet pea..” you give a small smile.

But he doesn’t stop yelling.

You try to force the liquid down his throat but he coughs it up and spits it out.

“Haechan! No!!” You watch as the last bit of potion splatters onto the floor

You fall onto the floor and sob into your hands. What could you do now?

You remembered a conversation that you two had a few months ago.

“Should I threaten your safety or the safety of anyone else..you must kill me..” Haechan says while squeezing your hand and looking up at the stars.

You laid on the roof of your apartment building and watched the stars together.

“What are you saying..you know I can’t kill you.” You chuckle.

“Y/n...I’m serious...I am a monster, and if I lose control..” he shakes his head. “I can’t bear to think that I could hurt you. So you have to stab me in the head, that’s the only way.”

“You’re being ridiculous. I’d never do that.”

He turns to you and holds your chin in his hand while looking deep into your eyes. “Sweet pea..I love you, but please take care of yourself first.”

You raised your head as you sat at his feet now, the man in front of you being completely different from the man beside you on the roof long ago on that night.

“I love you too, sunny.” You cried harder and stood up. There was no going back, you couldn’t find any solutions and he was only getting worse. You loved him but he was right.

He lets out a loud groan as you walk past him and to the kitchen.

You take out a sharp knife and close your eyes before driving it into his skull.

The wailing stops.

You fall to the floor again and cry.

———

[The Next Day]

You wake up and see Haechan’s lifeless body slumped over.

You miss him so much, your feeling of desperation begins to creep in again. And so, you jump onto your laptop and get to the dark web.

You scroll through many websites, some leading to porn websites, some leading to games with jump scares, and some just leading to flat out dead ends.

But as time goes on, you get closer and closer to what you need, finding websites about satanic rituals and sacrifices.

You eventually find a resurrection spell.

With nothing to lose, you take the knife out of his head and lay him down on the floor. You set the stage and prepared for another ritual, you should’ve learned from what happened the first time, but you loved him dearly, you needed him.

“I call upon the ancient power to help me in the darkest hour… with a drop of my blood…” you use a small knife to cut into the center of your hand. You wince from the pain and squeeze your hand to let drops fall onto his forehead.

“I will heal this man with all my love..” you say a few more words in Latin and close your eyes.

When you are done, it’s silent in your apartment, but your eyes are still closed.

Then you hear it.

You hear a breath leave his lips.

He sits up straight suddenly and opens his eyes. You gasp and watch as his skin heals and his eyes turn to brown. His teeth are back to being bright and white and his hair is luscious.

He smiles when he sees you. “Sweet pea..”

You grin with tears in your eyes.

“Sunny!” You got to hug him, but his body disappears and you fall to the floor.

Your smile fades, you hold yourself up from the floor and look behind you. Haechan sits there with a look of confusion.

“Y/n..” he holds his hand up.

You sit back up in front of him and place your hand on his, but your fingers fall through thin air, failing to grasp his hand.

You didn’t read the fine print..the terms and conditions. This spell only worked for you to be able to see someone that has died, not for you to touch them.

“Haechan..I’m so sorry.” You begin to cry but he touched your cheek, it comes off as a light gust of wind.

“Don’t cry, sweet pea..I’m here..with you.”

And he stayed with you as a ghost for the rest of your life. He comforted you even though you couldn’t feel each other. You still explored the world together, watched movies and slept together. You missed his warmth and he missed yours, but seeing your beautiful face was enough for him. Even as you aged while he stayed the same, he thought you were the prettiest woman to ever grace the Earth.

And when you too had passed, you joined him as a ghost, walking hand in hand as you roamed the world.

come back tomorrow for the next spooky story...

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serendipityjxmn · 3 years

Text

Chapter 11

TW: None

Words Count: 2.6k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 12

You think one day of rest was enough since you can walk perfectly well now without wincing. So you wake earlier than Jimin the next day, marvelling at his features for a few moments but also fighting the urge to punch him out of giving you sleeping pills so you could oversleep and not come to work.

But now that you’ve reached the office, you feel nervous. You don’t know how to face Minhyuk. You don’t know if you could even face him.

Luckily, you don’t see him at all throughout the morning. During lunch however, when you return to the office, you see him first before he does yet he just brushes right pass you. You feel relieved yet you can’t shake off the strange feeling.

And your hunch turns out to be right when Minhyuk starts being mean from the next encounter and forward. He gets angry at you for the smallest of reasons. He doesn’t quite look at you when he gives order and when you ask him to clarify things, sometimes he would glare at you. It also doesn’t help that as you get more nervous you tend to make more mistakes.

Work feels even more exhausting when you’re mentally stressed at workplace. You come home with a headache that one night.

As soon as you prepared Jimin’s dinner, you hunt for some medicines and brings it with you as you head towards the room at the end of the hallway which you’ve somehow turned into your small office area (and your husband doesn’t seem to mind so-). You sit yourself on the sofa and shifts through the documents. The expenses report from several departments submitted during today’s meeting aren’t due for review until Friday yet Minhyuk says he wants to see it first thing next morning. You know he’s just doing it to get back at you and he’d probably ended up stacking the files on his table untouched just like the last task which means you’re doing this for naught anyway but you don’t want to give him any chance of finding your fault so here you are.

Your head feels like spinning so you quickly gulp down the medicine and force yourself to start on your work. Half an hour into it though, you don’t realize when you had fallen asleep.

You wake up next day in your own bed, perfectly tucked in while Jimin sleeps soundly next to you. You sit up almost immediately.

You look at the sleeping figure next to you, his snores are very light, you note.

Unknowingly, you inch closer to his side. You’ve always loved his smell. He just smells like... him.

You’re pretty sure he tucked you in last night. Why does he pretend to be so harsh all the time if he actually cares for you?

Maybe it isn’t impossible to build a civil relationship with him. With your husband.

You stare at his features. You can’t deny it. Jimin’s really good looking. And this good looking man is your husband. Sometimes you still have trouble believing.

Your eyes fall to his lips. His plump pink lips looks very tempting. You briefly wonder if-

Don’t.

Don’t fall for him.

And at that exact moment, Jimin’s eyes shot open while simultaneously his hand grips your right hand that hovers over his face seconds ago tightly. You freeze completely, not moving a muscle because you know he’s doing it out of reflex and you don’t want to dwell on how he’s trained for that.

His stare at you is murderous and your hand move to retreat but he kept his grip vice like on your wrist.

And you could feel the intensity slowly rising between the both of you.

You could’ve sworn his face inches closer to you and you panic instantly so you back away and sit up. Without wasting another breath, you get up and disappear into the shower.

You panic at your desk. In light of this morning’s incident, finding yourself in your bed instead of the sofa as well the tense moments with Jimin, you weren’t in the right state of mind so you completely forgot about the report Minhyuk asks you to handle yesterday.

You gather your courage to tell Irene first.

“Ah the sales reports?” She says and you nod. “Mr. Park already handed it to me first thing this morning when he arrived. I went to see Mina just now and handed the reports to Mr. Kim as well.”

O...kay. You definitely don’t expect that but you can’t help but sigh in relief. Did Jimin take it last night when he finds you in the small library room?

“Wait. If you brought the files home last night, how does Mr. Park have it?” Irene narrows her eyes at you.

Shoot. “Um- I forgot I didn’t- I mean, I just realized I didn’t bring it home at all. My head was really spinning last night and I thought I brought it home, turns out I didn’t.” You fake a smile. “Perhaps Mr. Park saw it on my table.”

Irene huffed at your answer, perhaps contemplating whether to believe you or not. She doesn’t say anything after that.

You’re at Mina’s table, discussing with her about updates on meetings with R&D team as requested by your husband when Kim Minhyuk appears from his office room, storming at you with a furious look.

“Miss Y/N, what on earth do you think you’re doing?” He shouts at you, making everyone at the office look up and you feel small immediately. “Are you even doing your job?”

“I’m sorry Mr. Kim-“

“This!” He pushes a document towards you and you look down to see the sales report yesterday.

“Is there something wrong-“

“You fucking tell me.” He snarls. “Tell me, how on earth did you organize this? I don’t understand a single thing. Did you even do it?”

You remain silent. Because he’s right. You didn’t do it. But how can you say that? What would you say to him? That your husband, the president, the CEO arranged the report?

“I honestly have no idea if you’re coming for work or you’re just fucking around.” He hisses.

You literally hear the gasps from your office mate.

You draw a breath, trying to calm yourself to face Minhyuk. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kim if you’re not satisfied but-“

“Mr. Park.” Someone says. Your stomach lurch instantly.

Both you and Minhyuk look up. Your lung drops when you sight your husband standing few metres away, his hands in his pocket.

“Jimin.” Minhyuk addresses your husband.

Jimin’s eyes are on you and you look down immediately. Anxiety starts filling you up. Is he going to shout at you too?

He crosses the distance and stops short before you and Minhyuk.

“Minhyuk.” Jimin nods at him. “Do you mind if I borrow.. my wife for a moment?”

Everyone in the room gasps including you.

You stare up at him, eyes wide in shock. He wasn’t looking at you, he was smiling at Minhyuk although you know it’s entirely a facade.

You eyes flicker to Minhyuk. His expression is priceless. You’ve never seen him in a state more shock, what with all his constant smirk or flirty expression.

“Y-your wife?” He stutters.

Jimin steps closer to you then place his hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him that earns another gasp around the room. “My wife,” he reconfirms. Then towards you, he smiles briefly before he pulls you with him and leaves you at your desk before you could say anything as he walks back towards his office.

You’ve no idea what to say.

Everyone knows you’re his wife now.

And you’ve never felt so guilty towards Jimin.

Irene had never been this loud before, you think.

“Like what on earth- I really wouldn’t know! Like you know, with the way he’s treating you or literally everyone with his cold personality. Oh well, I guess that explains his stares at you.”

You stare at her. “He.. stares.. at me?”

“He does! Quite a lot actually. Caught him on a few occasions. You probably won’t notice them but I have eyes of a hawk.” She winks at you.

“You’re sure he’s not doing it to everyone?”

“Hmm he kind of does actually.. But with you- I don’t know. The look is softer, I think.” Irene says fondly.

You shake your head. “You’re exaggerating.”

“No, I’m not.” She sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me? Or anyone for that matter.”

You give her a small smile. “We wanted to keep it private. Don’t really wanna mix work.”

She nods at this. Then suddenly, her eyes widen at you then clasps your hand tightly. “Oh God! You really really have to forgive me.”

You frown. “You did something wrong?”

“Remember when you asked me about Clara Kim? Oh God- and I freaking told you she’s his girlfriend oh Lord- I’ve commited a huge sin, I know- and I’m so so sorry-“

You burst out laughing. She looks puzzled at first but then joins you. Then she turns serious. “But were you for real? You really don’t know who Clara Kim is?”

You bit your lips, unsure how to answer her. Then you slowly nod. “I don’t know.”

She looks at you in sympathy then leans down to whisper, “You think he’s cheating?”

You know he does. “No, I don’t think so. If he is, why would he let his wife be his secretary where she practically knows all his schedule?”

“Hmph. Makes sense, I guess.” She straightens herself then. “Okay. I’m going out to lunch. You coming?”

At that same moment, Jimin comes out. His eyes find you immediately. “Had your lunch?”

“I’m about to head out with Irene.”

“No- no Mr. Park. I forgot I actually had plans with my boyfriend. She’s all yours.” Irene says, already picking up her stuffs and standing.

You know she just made that up so you try as hard to give her the eye that you don’t wanna go for lunch with your husband now but she dashes off super quickly, leaving you with your husband.

“Come on.” He says.

You stand rooted to your spot, not budging. Jimin turns back to look at you. “I’m- I’m gonna have lunch with Mina.”

He glares at you and you almost want to cower but still holds your decision.

“Fine then.” He grunts then walks away. You heave a sigh of relief.

You don’t actually plan to have lunch with Mina. In fact, you don’t feel like going out at all. Instead, you sink back onto your chair. Your iPad in front of you flashes and you grab it instantly.

You feel your blood runs cold immediately upon seeing it.

You’re all over the news.

[REVEALED] Seoul’s most successful young CEO, Park Jimin’s wife identity revealed.

Mid this year, a large population of young women in South Korea had their hearts broken when arguably, Seoul’s most eligible bachelor, a young and good looking, successful CEO of the largest tech company, Park Jimin announced that he would be tying the knot with non-public figure woman, who’s identity remains closely kept secret.

But we finally know now who’s the girl that has stolen the heart of the heir to Parks Corporations. The woman is revealed to be __, 23 years old, currently working as secretary at Park Jimin’s own company, Bangtan Inc. It seems like the President wants to keep the wife close- much to the single ladies who’s working in the company’s heartbreak. The background of Park Jimin’s wife is yet to be known but whoever she may be, she must be reading a helluva of a prenup. Bagging South Korea’s allegedly most eligible bachelor, perhaps we can arrange a session to ask for a tip or two?

You wish the ground could swallow you whole.

Isn’t it illegal to be exposing informations of non public figure like this? Though you suppose the writer is trash anyway when he exposed your identity while clearly stating you’re a non public figure in the same line.

Wasn’t your marriage to Jimin suposed to be a secret and your identity kept hidden?

Yeah but then you yourself went to work at his company, gets harrassed that drive to the point of Jimin having to expose your relationship.

God. Both your index finger pressed each side of your temple tightly.

You’re contemplating whether you’re supposed to go back with Jimin so you decided to just go with him if he comes out of the office around the same time you’re off work but if he doesn’t then you’ll head home first and you desperately pray for the latter.

However, all hopes went down the drain when Jimin appears out of his room and only glares at you for a few seconds before you scramble to your feet and hastily packs your stuff.

And that’s how you find yourself walking timidly, very self conscious behind him as everyone stares at the two of you and you think it couldn’t get anymore embarassing at this.

Jimin is silent during the car ride. He busied himself with his iPad, leaving you fidgeting in the heavy silence. You decided to just man up and address the elephant in the room.

“J-Jimin..” you call softly. “I’m sorry it came down to this.. and now everyone knows you’re- I’m- um.. we’re-“

“Married.” He cuts you off.

You look up at him. He doesn’t look at you, his eyes still on his tab.

“We’re married.” He repeats. “Is that so hard to say?” He asks, finally looking at you.

“No- I me-“

“Nevermind.” He turns his gaze back to his tab and the conversation is over.

You don’t mean it that way but you just don’t want people looking down at him for marrying you, someone of no status and not even a decent upbringing background.

You play with the spoon on your hand, guilt still swallowing you whole. Drawing a breath, you look up at Jimin who’s drinking his glass of water. You’re both on the dining table, only sounds of cutleries can be heard.

“Jimin, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for all this to get exposed. I’m sorry.” You say softly.

His expression turns cold. “Are you?” He asks, looking straight at you with piercing eyes, making you recoil.

“What do you mean? I didn’t want this to happen either-“

“Yeah none of this would’ve happened if you just sit your ass at home, playing house or the perfect fucking wife.” He sneers. “Instead, you just have to work in my own fucking company, get yourself harrassed and left me with no choice.”

You want to answer him, that he’s being unfair because you didn’t ask to be harrassed but Jimin was raging so you stay muted.

“It’s dangerous, do you know that? Now everyone knows who my wife is and it’s fucking dangerous-“

“Why?” You cut him. “Tell me why it’s dangerous- Jimin who are you-“

He raises from his seat and leans down to you, face merely inches away and you swallow. “I’m a dangerous person darling.. I can snap your neck in two and you won’t see it coming.” He says as his fingers touch your neck, in an act that seems as if it’s caressing it but you know better. “And now that everyone knows who you are.. that means they can come and snap your neck too baby. But of course, you wouldn’t see it coming. And that’s what happens when you don’t listen to me. Not when I tell you to quit your fucking job, not ever.”

He raises again, standing upright before turning on his wheels and leaves you. You struggle to calm your erratic breath and nerves. And finally, you let the tears flow.

That night too, you wrote the resignation letter.

Link to Chapter 12

Posted on 210423 9:00PM

#serendipityjxmn #serendipityjxmnmrpresident #mrpresident #mr president #bts fic #bts au #bts smut #jimin au #park jimin #parkjimin #kpop fic #jimin smut #jimin ceo #jimin mafia #bts mafia #jimin x reader

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thatesqcrush · 3 years

Text

Voire Dire, Pt. 2

Rafael Barba x Reader. Warnings: heavy kissing/touching, some language. WC: 4,072. Episode References: 19x13 & 22x04.

A certified workaholic, Rafael had little to no time for any kind of romantic relationships. His last one, with Yelina, years prior, ended badly. It was during that relationship he had expressed deep feelings and she rebuked him, using him as a stepping stone to his former friend, Alex Muñoz. That was not to say he was celibate; he had needs - desires; and he bid his time with men and women who also exhibited similar interests. They warmed the bed, but never the heart. It was just easier to focus on work - work required no emotion.

Rafael found his mind wandering as the cab took him home. He was drawn to you the moment he stepped through the 8th floor doors where all the junior ADAs were working. He recalled when he sat in a similar room, in Brooklyn, before he made his way up the ladder. Things were so much easier then, even if he didn't recognize it at the time. The world was an old movie: all black and white and it was high noon. He was Gary Cooper and absolutely sure absolutely who were the good guys, who were the bad guys.

The kiss replayed in his mind like an endless looping device. You had bright, lush lips that he was pretty sure were designed to drive anyone of any orientation mad. When you had kissed him, it certainly took him by surprise - a wonderful surprise. He allowed himself to relish in the taste of your kiss - the invitation you gave when you moaned and opened your mouth more, so he could slide his tongue into your mouth.

For the briefest of moments, he ignored the rational part of his brain. All cares were thrown into the wind. And then his moral compass, which was spinning and spinning and spinning, came to a sudden stop as it dawned on him that you had been drinking.

The kiss - was an impulse born out of your drunken stupor. He hadn’t missed however, the look of disappointment on your face when he broke the kiss and stated he should not have done that.

When he finally made it back to his apartment, he found himself unable to wind down. The mind of the prosecutor now turned defense lawyer, was racing with a million thoughts at once. Despite the busyness of his mind, there was one thing that he was sure of.

Kissing you was tantalizing. And he wanted to do it again.

He changed into burgundy sweatpants and his old ratted Harvard shirt and poured himself a night cap. He was certain your email was like his when he was there: first name (dot) last name (at) manhattanda (dot) org. Ever the perfectionist, he opened his email and looked up the D.A. 's office's website. Sure enough, there was your contact information (and he was right about your email).

The plan seemed simple enough: first, apologize once more for doing anything without your explicit consent; second: ask for a do-over but he didn’t want you to feel any kind of pressure. Nor did he expect you to acquiesce - and that if he did indeed overreach, it was noted and he would keep things completely professional.

He hovered over the send button for longer than he would have anticipated. Finishing his drink, he took a deep breath and hit send. And then went to bed feeling antsy - like a child the night before their birthday.

The sun shone brightly the next morning, filtering through the partially open shades. Rafael groaned as he stretched, with his back and shoulders making a cracking sound as the bubbles burst in the synovial fluid around his joints. It was simultaneously satisfying and a reminder of his age.

The coffee maker beeped, signaling it was done brewing. Rafael made way to the bathroom to take care of his morning ablutions. He helped himself to coffee and then sat back in bed to read the paper on his iPad and get caught up on the latest happenings while he was asleep.

For a moment, he forgot about his email to you. He opened his inbox, mentally gearing himself for an email from you rebuking him, or worse, no response at all.

His normally steel stomach flipped when he saw there was an email.

Rafael, you have nothing to apologize for. I would love a do-over. Name the place/time, and I’ll meet you. My phone # is 718-371-5952. -Y/N

Rafael looked at the timestamp on the reply. You were up early. He scratched his beard and wondered if it was too early to text.

‘It’s too early to text Rafael, coño.’ He chastised himself. ‘Es muy temprano; después. Ya no eres un hombre joven; necesitas relajarte.

You were distracted at work. You couldn’t focus one bit. You tried to immerse yourself with work, but you were anxious. You kept checking your phone to see if Rafael had texted you. Groaning, you took your phone and threw it into your drawer. You opened a new browser window when Marjorie strolled in. She had black oversized glasses and a hoodie. In her hands were two coffee cups and a brown paper bag.

You were relieved when you saw her - talking with her would help keep your anxieties at bay.

You stood and turned the corner of your desk and hopped on Marjorie’s desk.

“Morning!” You replied cheerfully.

Marjorie groaned. “Why are you so loud? Why is it so bright in here?” You reached for a coffee and she protested, reaching for it. You held it back, smirking.

“Someone had a bit much I suppose? Woke up full of regret for poor life choices?”

Marjorie took off her sunglasses. “Yes.” She hissed. “You had a lot to drink too; why are you so chipper? Did you get laid or something?”

You paused and it was a long enough of a pause for her to jump all over it. “Oh my fuck, who? Spill. Carisi?”

You barked out a laugh before taking a sip of the piping hot coffee. “No. God knows I love him, but not like that.” You narrowed your eyes and leaned down to whisper, scanning the office.

“Um - what are you doing? We’re the only ones here working today.” Marjorie cocked her brow in response.

“This place leaks like a sieve, Marj - you know that.” You warned. “Can’t be too careful.”

Marjorie sighed and put on her sunglasses once more. “Sorry, it’s too bright. Still too drunk.”

You shook your head. “Um. It was Barba.”

“You fucked Barba!” Marjorie shrieked loudly.

“Would you lower your voice?” You replied sternly. “No. I did not sleep with him. But we did kiss. And he sorta asked me out.”

“Holy crap on a cracker.” Marjorie replied, astounded by the news. She opened the other coffee and pushed the brown paper bag towards you. “Bear claws. So how was it? Is he as silver tongued as he is in the courtroom?”

Your cheeks burned as you replayed the kiss in your mind - how his tongue followed yours, deepening the kiss. It was full of enthusiasm and how he pulled you against him, his body solid and warm. If you tried hard enough, you could still taste the mix of scotch and coffee that was his kiss. “He was very… ” You trailed off slowly, trying to search for the right word. “... passionate. Yes, very passionate. Knows what he’s doing.”

Marjorie tipped her coffee at you. “Well then.”

When Rafael did eventually text you, he suggested a restaurant in the NoLiTa section of Manhattan. He insisted on meeting you at your place, as to him, it was the proper thing to do. You declined, insisting that a boomerang trip was uneccessary and that you’d meet him at the location. From the sidewalk on East Houston Street, under a grimy red awning that appeared to belong to a fading pizza parlor, Emilio’s Ballato didn’t look like much.

Rafael waited outside for you, rubbing his gloved hands together and when you crossed the street, he smiled. He had planned the whole night to a tee and it was going to be perfect. Rafael would settle for nothing less.

You kissed each other on the cheek and then took his hand. On the walls were framed album covers and snapshots of various stars, from stalwarts like David Bowie and Billy Joel to the titans of film, like Frank Sinatra and Martin Scorsese.

“Mr. Barba!” A voice cried out. You looked and the voice belonged to a hulking minotaur of a man who was sitting like a wary sentry at the first table. He was armed with a cup of espresso that looked like a thimble in the paws of a giant.

“Emilio!” Rafael greeted in return. The two men broke into Italian and you cocked your brow. You had no idea what they were saying and when ‘Emilio’ looked past Rafael and to you, you waved with a small smile.

“Come this way. I have a table in the back - more private.” Emilio replied in a thick Italian accent. “Welcome to my restaurant. We will make sure you’re taken care of.”

A waiter came by to take your coats and winter wear. As you shimmied off your coat, Rafael found his mouth suddenly go dry. You wore a blue velvet wrap dress with long sleeves and v-neckline. Black tights and black knee high boots rounded out the look.

“You look stunning.” Rafael complimented as he handed his camel peacoat over.

You felt your cheeks burn and you were grateful for the dimmed recessed lighting. Rafael looked equally as handsome in charcoal slacks and a white button down fitted with a navy suit jacket.

“Thank you counselor, likewise.” You replied. Rafael was ever the gentleman, helping you to your seat first before taking his place across from you. Soft jazz music played, but not so loudly as to be interruptive to conversation. The two of you were just settling in when Rafael’s phone rang loudly. Rafael reached for his phone, looked at the caller and sent the call to voicemail.

Rafael apologized for the interruption and you waved your hand, while shaking your head. “No worries.”

Another waiter came by, with a bottle of red wine, compliments of the house.

“So what “in” do you have in this place?” You asked as you took a sip of the wine.

“Emilio - back in the day when I was an A.D.A, had a family member who was assaulted. I was the prosecutor on the case. I put away a violent sociopath and rapist for a very long time. Emilio told me I was always welcome to the restaurant. I - I never really had anyone to bring here.” Rafael replied.

“Until now.” You finished, chewing on a sesame breadstick.

“Until you.” Rafael clarified, causing your heart to flutter.

Over dinner, you got to know each other better. You discussed how you ended up on the lawyer track and how you were study buddies with Carisi and Marjorie.

He shared his fascination with The Waves by Virginia Woolf and The Count of Monte Cristo. Rafael went into passionate detail for the French literary classic by Dumas, recounting "This is the first book I remember my father giving me to read. It was my favorite book growing up. It's an easy read. I was a boy in middle school. I fell in love with the world and the drama of it. What’s your favorite novel?”

Again, Rafael’s phone rang, interrupting. Rafael let out a quiet swear as he reached for his phone. “I swear, I put it on vibrate.”

“Someone’s mighty popular.” You gave him a wink as you reached for your glass of wine.

Rafael blinked and let out a deep exhalation. “So you were going to tell me about your favorite novel.”

Rafael reached for your hand across the table and you were about to grasp it, when the waiter arrived to serve dinner. You jumped back slightly as the food was placed before you. Rafael had pasta with mussels, while you had pasta cacio e pepe.

Picking up your fork, you nodded. “Love in the Time of Cholera. Florentino Ariza suffers from lovesickness as one would suffer from cholera, enduring both physical and emotional pains as he longs for Fermina Daza.”

Rafael cocked his brow. “For my taste, there are too many long passages of exposition with Garcia Marquez explaining what the characters are going through. But as easy as the story is to follow, and as seductive as it is, it never gives away what is really going on.”

You scoffed. “So I suppose you don’t believe love conquers all?”

Rafael gave you a coy smile. “In the end we’re all passing through.” You laughed and it was music to his ears.

More wine was had and conversation flowed easily. Emilio insisted that you both stay for dessert. At some point, your chair shifted and you were sitting right next to Rafael as you split vanilla panna cotta. Rafael’s eyes shifted from your eyes to your lips as you licked the spoon clean. You put the spoon down and could feel the sexual tension rising. As soon as you reached for him, you accidentally knocked over your glass of red wine, and it spilled in the direction of Rafael, all over his white shirt.

“Oh fuck, I am so sorry.” You apologized profusely as you frantically dabbed at his shirt with the cloth napkin.

“It’s okay; it’s just clothing.” Rafael replied as he too blotted the stain.

“It’s not.” You disagreed. “Here I am, trying to make a good impression, ya know, be all charming and sexy for you - the Rafael Barba - and instead I am a klutz. Ugh, that is going to set if we don’t take care of it.”

“Did you say sexy?” Rafael questioned, a smile dancing on his lips.

You opened your mouth to reply when Rafael’s phone rang again interrupting your thoughts. Rafael threw the napkin on the table, letting out an irritated sigh. When he saw the name, he held up a finger. “Let me just answer this.”

“Liv, what is-- yes now is not a good time.” Rafael hissed into the phone. “Tomorrow. That’s all I got. Okay. Okay. Talk then.”

Rafael tossed his phone onto the table and threw his head back, rubbing his hands over his face.” When he sat up, he noticed the bemused look on your face. You reached up and began dabbing his shirt once more.

“It’s really not a big deal.” Rafael replied softly. He grabbed your wrists gently, pausing your movements. His hands were warm and they circled your wrists easily.

You allowed yourself to relax in his grasp and crinkled your nose. “It really is going to set. We should go and clean it. Otherwise it’s ruined. And this shirt is nice; it’d be a shame for it to get tossed.”

“At this hour? And where?” Rafael replied incredulously as he signaled the waiter for the check.

“We… could go to your place.” You suggested softly. “I am pretty good with stains. Just need some salt, boiling water, and white vinegar.”

Stunned silence followed - it was brief, but it felt like an eternity when he spoke again. “Sure.”

It didn’t take long to get to Rafael’s. “I am so sorry again.” You apologized as you stepped off the elevator.

“Accidents happen.” Rafael replied as he led you down the hall to his apartment. If anyone had told you that you would be on a date with Rafael Barba, you would have laughed in their face and asked them for some of the good stuff that they were smoking. But here you, in front of a rather ordinary door marked 6C. Once inside, Rafael turned on the light and you took in the apartment before you. It was freakishly spotless and you wondered if you had entered a living ad for Architectural Digest. The apartment was sleek and modern but carried a warm ambiance. Colorful artwork hung off the walls and there was a built in walled library filled with all sorts of legal texts and what appeared to be vinyls. His apartment smelled like a mixture of leather and tobacco and books plus whatever cologne he had donned.

“I’ll go get changed.” Rafael replied. “The kitchen is over that way and there is vinegar and salt in the cupboards. You nodded and made way, rummaging through his kitchen. His cupboards were as meticulous as his apartment and you smiled at the things that you found as you searched for the items you needed to clean the stain, like a box of peanut butter cap ‘n’ crunch.

You found the salt and vinegar when Rafael came back with his ruined clothes. He had changed into another undershirt and a pair of dark jeans. You felt the air get sucked out of his chest at the sight of him so casual. A tuft of chest hair poked out of the v-neckline and a gold chain glinted in the light. You took the clothes and spread them out on his kitchen counter and set to work.

“Want anything to drink?” Rafael asked.

“Water would be nice.” You managed to squeak out before you tackled the stains. Rafael watched you as you methodically worked out the stains. Your brows were furrowed in concentration and he found you adorable.

Rafael placed a small glass of water by you and then walked over to his music collection before choosing a record to play. The all too familiar instrumental notes of one of your favorite songs began to play.

“Is that--?” You paused, looking at him curiously.

“Vitamin String Quartet.” Rafael expanded. “Lana del Rey.”

“Never had you pegged as a Lana del Rey fan.” You murmured continuing to work on the stain.

“Plato said that music is moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything.” Rafael stated. “I have a very eclectic taste in music and if you go through my collection, you’ll find everything from Biggie to Celia Cruz to Lana del Rey to Prince - and everything else in between.”

“Impressive.” You replied.

“And what would you have me pegged as?” Rafael prodded. He had also poured himself a glass of water.

You stopped and looked up at him. You were overwhelmed by how handsome he is. Eyes that were biscay green and a strong aquiline nose. His hair, now bordering on more silver, than salt and pepper, made your hands twitch, as if your muscles instinctively wanted to run through it. You licked your lips and sucked in your bottom lip. You didn’t miss how his eyes darkened.

“You’re the infamous Rafael Barba. Boy wonder. Taking on cases that everyone ducks with your big, brass…” Rafael’s eyebrow cocks and you smirk as you finish, “ego.”

“And baby killer.” Rafael interjected. His tone was acidic.

You flinched. “You’re not a baby killer.”

Rafael cocked his head. “Aren’t I?”

“Depends on the jury.” You replied, walking over to him, crossing your arms, which only served to push up your tits more. “But really, I don’t think of you like that. I know there is more to a person than just that one thing.”

“Not according to the court of public opinion.” Rafael managed to croak as his eyes drifted to your chest. “There is a reason I have kept a low profile all this time.”

You closed the gap between you and him and pressed your palms against his chest. He was solid and warm. You could feel his pectoral muscles twitch. A spark shot through your body, settling between your legs.

Rafael’s hands settled on your hips. The velvet of your dress was softer than he imagined and he could picture the dress pooling down at your feet. Part of him wished that the date had gone better. It did not go as well as he had planned.

“I’m sorry for tonight.” Rafael murmured as he wrapped his arms loosely around your hips. “This was not what I had planned for us at all.”

“I’m not.” You replied, looking up at him. You now wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing even closer against him. “I don’t need fancy dinners. I am just happy to spend time with you. I really had a good time. I am sorry about the shirt, but it seems all fine now.”

Rafael searched your eyes. The tension in the room shifted. Your heart began to pound and your breathing became more shallow.

“I… the stain… it’s lifted.” You whispered shakily. Rafael lowered his eyes to your lips and recalled how good it felt to kiss them. He wanted to do it again. So he did. You didn’t hold back, moaning as his mouth crashed against yours. He pressed his mouth against yours with more force, crushing them. He took the opportunity to trace his tongue against the seam of your lips, seeking entrance to your mouth. You acquiesced his request by parting your lips, and he deepened the kiss by sliding his tongue into your mouth. You responded in turn by pulling his bottom lip, sucking and nipping. His chest rumbled. Rafael lifted you up, his hands going to your thighs, encouraging you to wrap your feet around his hips.

Rafael carried you to the couch, walking backwards until he felt the couch and threw himself down, bringing you with him. You let out a squeak but that turned into another moan as his lips found purchase along your neck and he took the opportunity to suck a bruising mark into your skin.

Your nipples were hard like diamonds and the strip of material that dared call itself underwear was ruined. Rafael’s hands slid down your back to your ass and he gave each cheek a squeeze.

You rolled your hips, feeling how hard he was beneath you and then slid your hands under his shirt and through his chest hair, confirming how solid he was. You raked your nails down his chest and Rafael let out a groan of a man who had been denied too long. “Oh Rafael.” You breathed into his ear as you pressed kisses upwards along his neck to his cheek and then to his earlobe where you sucked and flicked your tongue against the thin flesh.

“Keep that up and I’ll…” Rafael groaned. His hands move to the front of your dress squeezing. You pulled away reluctantly and looked into his eyes, which were blown with lust.

“So soon old man?” You winked. “We’re just getting started.”

“I am not that old.” Rafael retorted.

“Even if you were - which you’re not, it wouldn’t stop me.” You replied before ducking down to kiss him once more. You rolled your hips again, grinding harder against him. You took his hands and placed them on your breasts, sighing as he squeezed them. His fingers moved to play with your nipples and when he gave them a firm but gentle pinch, you couldn't help but shudder. You were melting under his touch.

You were just about to tell him to take you to bed so you could ride him into next week, when your phone began to sound.

“I should get that.” You replied, giving him an apologetic look.

You climbed off and Rafael let out another groan, his eyes laser focused on your ass as you walked away. “Mierda.”

“It’s SVU. They need me to come down.” You replied as you checked your phone.

Rafael let out a deep sigh. “Do you want me to come down with you?”

You shook your head. “It’s fine.”

“It’s late Y/N, let me at least walk you over to the precinct. It’s a few blocks away.”

“Okay.” You relented.

The walk over was quick. You got to the steps of the precinct and looked up at the door and then at him. “Raincheck?”

Rafael nodded. “Raincheck.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips and then you bounded up the stairs, turning to give him a quick wave. Rafael watched you until you were gone. He dropped his head as he began to trek back home.

‘What a fucking disaster.’ He thought miserably. He looked at his hands before he shoved them in his pockets. ‘I guess it's just us for tonight.’

TBC.

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