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wonwoonlight · 1 year

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there’s not a single star in the sky | xu minghao & kim mingyu

➝ Minghao x Reader / Mingyu x Reader // not a love triangle

➝ soulmate!au // angst // somewhat slowburn // fluff in between? // a journey of acceptance and moving on

➝ total word count: 12k

➝ notes, warnings: my sorry attempt of an angst <//3, it doesn't end badly i promise, curses, food, mentions of death, OC is trying to hold back her tears for like.. 80% of the fic, probably some grammatical errors and typos, not beta-ed D: i purposefully write some stuff vaguely. that's it, tell me if there's more!

➝ summary: he’s your soulmate. so why did the universe also decide he’s not the one you’re going to spend your forever with?

or, alternatively:

Minghao was there to fill the space Mingyu left behind; but you'd never expected to what extent he was meant to do it for.

➝ A/N: it's late and i didn't mean this to be your bday fic but.. happy bday hao!! i'll shut up and say more at the end. pls enjoy and tell me what you thought!!

여기 이 세상이 아름다운 건 the reason why this word is beautiful

그대가 머문 흔적들 때문에 아마 is probably because it has traces of you [Jo Sungmo - Do You Know]

When you first met Minghao, he was there to be your roommate.

It's been months since Mingyu left, almost a year, really, and as much as it still hurts and the thought wells up tears in your eyes, Jeonghan is right when he said it's time you need to pick up the pieces broken by the love of your life.

–the first step being moving out of the place you had bought together with him. Saying it hurts is starting to get repetitive at this point, but it really does and you have no idea how many times you’ve broken down crying the more you pack, your eyes red beyond measure and your chest physically aches that it’s hard to breathe.

The apartment is practically empty except for the furniture, nothing inside screams you or Mingyu anymore except for one single photograph and it sends you into a spiral of sadness that you can’t comprehend how to handle. Your eyes wander to the empty wall on top of the TV, already rid of photographs Mingyu had taken and decided to frame because “angel, this is a masterpiece!” like he didn’t say it everytime he decided to frame more pictures and hang them on the walls (mostly of you both together).

You close your eyes and exhale a deep breath at the memories, hating the way your lips still tremble at the thought of him, then gently wipe the tears lining up your eyes before they turn into yet another waterfall.

There’s only one big picture left on the wall, a photograph of a daffodil field you both had gone to two years ago and is easily the most beautiful place you’ve ever stepped your feet on. You insisted that the picture stays though Jeonghan said it’d be better to take everything down. But as much as you know his memories hurt you, you don’t want to erase him just because you’re struggling; that picture is the one Mingyu loved the most and you think it’s only right to let it be.

So it can guard your home once you’re no longer there.

Kim Mingyu is still the most wonderful thing that has ever happened in your life and you want to keep his memories with you no matter what.

“When is your cousin moving in?” Jeonghan asks as you put the last of your belongings. Most of your stuff is already in your new place, and while you couldn’t bear to sell the apartment, you heard from your mom that your cousin is looking for a place in your area because she’s starting university soon; so she’s going to move in and rent your place at least until she finishes her study.

You’re not that close with her, but know her well enough to know that she’s nice and isn’t the type to mess around. Which is good, because if you’re close with her then you’d be finding reasons to visit just to be in the apartment. This way, you know your place will be in good hands and, for now, that’s the only thing you can ask for.

“In two weeks. She’ll start moving her stuff next week though.” It’s weird to be talking about someone else living in a place where your love bloomed, but it’s really for the best and you understand that it’s getting more unhealthy for you if you continue your way of living the way you do. Even one year is already pushing it.

“You’re still moving tomorrow though, right?” your best friend nudges you, and you nod as you try to shrug the weight lingering on your chest. Your silence concerns him despite your nod, so Jeonghan takes your hand and squeezes it lightly. “Do you want me to stay the night?”

“It’s okay, Han.” You smile weakly. As much as you want Jeonghan to hold you through the night because you know you’ll be crying, you want to spend your last night here by yourself. You want to cry one last time so you can let everything go. You want to bask in Mingyu’s memories, in his fading scent, and in the place where the love you shared with him grew the most.

And as you cry yourself to sleep that night in your empty bedroom, screaming for Mingyu’s name into your pillow again and again like it’d bring him back to you, you think you can feel his arms holding you once again the moment your consciousness gives up, almost like a dream you wish you never wake up from.

Your new roommate is perceptive and you’re not sure yet whether you like it or not.

“You look tired.” He smiles politely, though you can tell that the look in his eyes is closest to what you’d describe as pitiful.

Of course you look pitiful, you woke up with your head pounding due to your excessive crying the night before and you could barely open your eyes because of the very same reason.

“I was going to talk to you about rules and all that but I think that can wait.”

“Thank you,” you say without offering any reason, you don’t owe him any explanations anyway. “I just need some sleep though, can we talk about it later tonight?”

Minghao nods, the smile on his face so warm that your heart would probably skip a beat if not for your current predicament. You wince at the way your heart clenches, Mingyu’s name once again echoing in your head. Feeling heat creeping up against your neck, you reach up to touch the skin behind your ear, a habit you always do, something Mingyu teased you about since the time you went on your first date together.

Ah, fuck. You really should stop yourself from thinking about him too much.

“It must’ve been hard moving all that stuff. Have a good rest,” Minghao ushers you before you can say anything, which you thankfully nod at, and you immediately bolt to your new room before you embarrassingly cry in front of him out of nowhere.

You don’t need to know Minghao hears your cry because you didn’t close the door properly, his concerned eyes rooted to the floor as he closes the door for you, the soft click barely even a noise upon your heart silenced sobs.

It’s later that night that he sees you again, already fresh in new clothes and looking comparably better than earlier though your puffy eyes are a dead giveawa. Minghao has never been one to pry, but his heart is made to care for others and he’s trying hard not to ask if you’re okay, to pretend like the sound of you crying didn’t tug something in his heart.

Xu Minghao is born to care for those around him but he’s not sure why you crying hurts him this much when you’re practically a stranger renting the available room in his house.

“Want to order something?” He forces himself to say, wondering if he’s crossing any line; do you even have any intention to befriend him? He’s still not sure why you’re moving into his place, the most he has heard from you was you’re simply looking for a new environment, and Junhui, a mutual friend of the both of you, has only told him that you’re going through a lot so he might want to be careful overall.

When Minghao asks if there’s anything he should know out of concern, the older guy has simply said it’s not his story to tell and reminds him to be mindful if you’re ever visibly struggling in front of him.

“I was wondering what to eat for dinner. You can join me if you want. It’s okay if you don’t, though.”

Unexpectedly, you send a soft smile his way with a nod, then make your way to sit on the single sofa next to him and hug the cushion on your lap. “Sure. What’s good around here?”

“Mmm. What do you feel like eating?” He turns to look at you, only to find your fingers playing with the skin near your ear as you purse your lips in thought. It’s the first time he has the chance to actually look at you, and he scolds himself for being a teenager when it pops into his mind how soft your skin looks followed by the question of how it’d feel under his touch.

“Anything’s fine except for pasta.”

“You don’t like pasta?”

“I do. I think they’re too heavy if we eat them now though.”

Minghao hums in agreement, but you say he can order whatever he feels like eating because you can eat just about anything as long as it’s not too creamy at the moment. “Surprise me,” you tell him, your voice a little too cheerful for someone who was crying a few hours ago. He tries to get it off his mind though, because it’s none of his business and you’re not even friends yet at this point.

He doesn’t even know why it bothers him that much. Perhaps he’s been thinking about Junhui’s words too much, be careful and be mindful. As someone who’s used to catering to other’s feelings, Minghao finds it hard to stay still when he knows someone near him is struggling. It’s obvious from your body language though; the way you’re internally exhausted but are trying your best to look okay.

Maybe moving to his place is your first step to overcoming whatever you’re going through. Whatever it is, Minghao decides that’s where he should stop assuming and reminds himself once again that it’s none of his business.

“So,” he starts after ordering food. He figures he should at least talk about the house rules if there’s no other topic at hand. “I’m not very strict about rules, to be honest. Some of the rules I always tell people are just basic ones like: let me know if you’re going to have friends around, though I’m not too comfortable with anyone staying overnight, so just make sure to ask me first before you let anyone stay over; don’t be too loud; and let’s clean after ourselves? These apply to the both of us though, so I promise I’ll stand by them too.”

“Yeah, sure.” You nod in agreement. He’s right. Those are basic rules, he’s just asking you to have manners and be aware that you’re living with someone else. But you can tell from his first impression alone that Minghao is the kinda person that’s considerate and proper. He didn’t ask for anything too personal when he first met you to talk about your possible coliving situation, and it was easy to tell that Minghao was just looking for someone that’s…, well, also proper.

He was just the right amount of friendly. You didn’t talk with him for that long that day, but you could tell that you both passed each other’s vibe check and you were glad when Minghao called a week later to say you’re welcome to move in anytime the month after if you’re still looking for a place to stay.

“I don’t have that many friends so you don’t have to worry.”

He chuckles at that, glad that you’re comfortable enough to make a joke. "We'll get along just fine then."

The silence after that is a bit awkward, though it's not enough to make anyone uncomfortable. You wonder if you're simply imagining Minghao's extra careful words and gestures or if he’s simply that type of person to begin with.

He does seem the type to be certain with his lines.

"You're home a lot, then?" He tries to stay on the housing topic, a very safe topic that hopefully wouldn't cross any line.

“Yeah. I really mostly go out when my friends invite me or if I want to take a walk, else I’m basically holed up in my room.” You shrug then return the question, though from the few times you dropped by the house when you moved your things over you can already tell that Minghao is about the same.

“Mmm. I enjoy both my time inside and outside,” he purses his lips in thoughts, a tilt of his head accompanying his words. “Depends on the day, I think. Sometimes I actively try to find places to try out, sometimes I’m happy to be in my studio and paint for the whole day.”

“You paint?” Your tone is more excited than you intend it to be, though it really makes sense because you notice there are a lot of paintings throughout the living room. And now you wonder if those are his own paintings, which Minghao shyly nods to, the sheepish smile on his face growing the more you sing praises to his talent. “Wow. I’ve always wanted to paint, you know? But my hands are not made for art so…”

“That’s nonsense.” He frowns like your sentence personally offends him, his words bringing tears to your eyes before you even realize. “Art is for everyone. Have you actually tried painting?”

‘Angel, that is not a painting!’ Mingyu laughed with the entirety of his chest, not minding your pout even the tiniest bit. ‘That’s just doodles. Gosh, you’re so cute.’

‘I told you I didn’t want to do this!’ you whined as you tried to get away from his embrace. Seriously, this guy was a good 20cm taller than you and he liked to just bend down and bury his face onto your neck like it’s not physically uncomfortable for him to do so. ‘I’m not going to let you plan another date.’

Mingyu simply grinned and hugged you tighter at that, knowing full well that you didn’t mean any of it.

‘Art is for everyone though,’ he whispered with a laugh, his lips upon your cheek. ‘You did great. We should try watercoloring sometimes.’

“Did… I say something wrong?” Minghao’s worried voice brings you back to the present, and you blink back the tears before they actually fall down, your voice caught in your throat.

“No.” You clear your throat then excuse yourself to the bathroom in hope Minghao doesn’t notice anything. From the way he simply nods, you hope that’s the case, but the gentle eyes full of concern following you until the bathroom door closes certainly implies otherwise.

Minghao brushes the mark near his collarbone, its jet black color reminding him of things he’d rather not remember anymore. It used to be so vibrant with color, then they bleed out at once one day, turning into such a dark black it contrasts against his skin.

There’s something else Junhui said that has been bothering him, something that he thinks is the main reason why he’s more attentive to you than anything.

‘I can’t say much. But if there’s anyone who understands her struggle, it might be you. Just… don’t push her, yeah?’

He’s not sure how close you are exactly with Junhui. But if the older guy is able to say that, he supposes you’re either closer than he’s assumed, or you’re related in more ways that he could imagine. You did find out he had an available room from Junhui.

It doesn’t feel right to go through yours or Junhui’s social media just for the sake of it. But, from what he remembers, you definitely don’t appear enough on Junhui’s account for you to be in his close circle. Plus, if you’re actually close, the older guy would’ve probably brought you to hang out with him a long time ago; Junhui likes to blend all of his friends, after all. So you’re probably a friend of a friend, or there’s a situation that Junhui happens to know.

Whatever it is, it bothers him. Are you struggling like he was?

Minghao bites his lip and grazes his soulmate mark again, why is he talking like he’s over it now? As much as he’s coping, said that he’s okay now because that's all he’s managed to be, he’s still far from acceptance.

He’s still far from making peace with it.

His eyes flicker to you again as you return and sit back down on the sofa. You force a perfect smile, one that would fool anyone into thinking you’re actually fine. Not him though, because if there’s anything he recognizes, it’s the emptiness in your eyes despite the way they turn into crescents. He’s practiced the same exact smile way too many times not to recognize it on others.

If there’s anything Minghao knows, it’s the eyes of people who are hurting.

And if there’s anything else he understands, it’s that they don’t always want to talk about it. That everyone hangs on differently and he doesn’t know you well enough to know how you cope and how you hurt.

So he does what he usually do: offer comfort in the subtlest way possible by change the topic.

“But, then again, it’s not for everyone,” he shrugs almost nonchalantly. If anyone else is in the room, he’s sure they would notice the way he’s blatantly staring at you in worry. But, fortunately for Minghao, there’s no one and you’re too busy calming yourself down to notice. “What do you do in your spare time?”

“Actually,” you shake your head like you’ve made a resolve, like you didn’t even hear his question. Your voice falters a little as you say your next words, but Minghao listens attentively as he pretends not to notice the quiver in your gaze. “I would like to try painting. I did it a long time ago but… maybe it’s time to try doing it again.”

“You sure?” he questions, something weird stirring in his heart at how determined you look. It’s most likely the romantic side in him; he’s always liked seeing people doing their best. There’s just something so beautiful about people who try, and he supposes it’s the fact that he knows the look in your eyes, recognizes a similar kind of pain reflected in them, then knowing that you’re doing your best to be okay again.

It’s almost like he’s seeing himself a few months back (has it really not been a year since he’s started to learn how to accept?), and while his heart warms at the fact that you’re trying, it makes him wonder if this was how people felt when they saw him before.

“Yeah. I think it’d be fun,” you say vaguely, knowing that your tone itself sounds unsure. Still, you’re thankful that Minghao doesn’t say anything about it as he nods and says that he’d send you the address of a cafe that allows their customers to draw on a paper and turn the result into a keyring; that he thinks that would be casual enough for you to try and have fun because an actual painting studio might feel suffocating if you’re not into it

You falter at the mention of the familiar cafe, one that you haven’t gone to but remember Mingyu had mentioned before. You can probably still find its name and address somewhere on your phone, because Mingyu had insisted you make a list of places you should go together to, though you gave up updating it along the way

“It’s the one with a sloth mascot, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. Have you been?” Minghao bites his lip at the slight tremble of your lip, did he say something wrong again?

“No, actually.” You force a small smile, one that looks sad, if anything, and Minghao’s heart is so close to breaking that it’s almost stupid. Why is he so emotional today? You’re just his new roommate, for God’s sake. “But I… I’ve heard of it, yeah.”

A heavy silence envelopes the room after that; you, deep in your mind, and Minghao, unsure what to say. Considering Junhui’s words and the way he sees himself in you, he dares to jump into conclusion and wonders what could possibly happen to your soulmate for you to be this way; to be constantly in and out of your memory in the span of thirty minutes he’s been talking with you.

Did they leave you like his soulmate did? He winces at the thought of her, the urge to reach for his mark makes his fingers ball into fists. But he waves it away and, thankfully, the bell rings indicating the arrival of your food.

Fortunately, the food is enough distraction for you two. You hum in delight once Minghao opens the packaging of the food, the smell filling the room immediately that your stomach growls a little. You’re both more hungry than you thought also, because the food is gone faster than the time it takes to arrive, and the both of you wish each other good night after cleaning up.

You’re not exactly sleepy, but you’re mentally drained and you’re afraid at how many times you almost poured your struggle to Minghao. You don’t like crying in front of anyone but Jeonghan, don’t like the feeling of anyone looking at you in pity or even concern. You really don’t.

But there’s something about Xu Minghao that makes you feel okay about being vulnerable; something about him that makes you want to open your heart and serve all its content on a platter for him to see. Or perhaps you’re just more emotional because you’ve officially moved out of your place and it’s your first day in your new home.

You hope that’s really the case.

Because the first scenario scares you a little too much.

You don’t want to feel that way.

So you spend your night talking with Jeonghan until you fall asleep, talking about nothing and everything so you wouldn’t think of Mingyu or how easy it is to be off guard in front of Minghao.

You tell Jeonghan you want to go to the sloth cafe and he offers to come with you, his voice wavering when you mention you want to try painting.

You dream of Mingyu in front of an easel that night, painting a field of yellow flowers with a smile on his face and the stars in his eyes.

“Oh, are you going somewhere?” Minghao asks when he sees you all dressed up on the sofa, though the way you’re slumped against it makes him doubt his question. “Or did you just come back?”

You scrunch your nose at the question, then sit up and hug the cushion against your chest. “I meant to go to the sloth cafe today. But Jeonghan is suddenly called for a work emergency, so…”

The words come out before he thinks it thoroughly, and Minghao almost hits himself in the head once they escape his lips. “I can go with you if you want?”

Unexpectedly, your face lights up as your eyes meet his, making him a little taken aback at the enthusiasm.

You really do want to go there, but the thought of going there by yourself scares you a little but you know that if you don’t go now when you’ve made up your mind, you’ll push it back over and over again until eventually you decide you’d just not go.

“Will you, really?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind going with me.” Minghao shrugs. It’s too late to back out and he’s glad if he could help you one way or another. It’s been quite some time since he visited that cafe and he doesn’t have anything to do, anyway. At your nod, he asks again. “When do you want to go?”

“I’m free the whole day, if you don’t mind going today…” You trail off, feeling a little awkward if you’re being completely honest. It’s been two weeks since you’ve moved in, and while you’ve passed the awkward phase, you’re still not there yet when it comes to favors.

“Let me change real quick then.” He definitely didn’t expect you to say yes when he offered, but now that you’ve asked him… Might as well, right?

The ride to the cafe isn’t as awkward as you suppose it would be, the radio filling in the silence between the two of you when you’re not talking. Minghao asks if you have anything in mind you want to draw already, and you say you actually have no idea, that you want to see if there are any easy examples you can follow because you’re not gifted enough to draw anything by yourself.

“What about you?”

“Hmm… Any requests?”

You laugh at this, and then hum to yourself to see if there’s anything you’d like to see. For a second, you wonder if you’re crossing the line by asking him to draw for you in a way, but if it’s Minghao himself who asks, it should be okay, right?

“Flowers?” Your voice falters as you think of the last dream you have of Mingyu. Yellow flowers, wasn’t it?

You hear his smile before you see it, and when you turn to him curiously, Minghao offers you a nod and asks again if you have any flowers you prefer. But you don’t really know your flowers, so you tell him you want to see anything vibrant, that it’s up to him whatever flower exactly.

“Vibrant, huh?” You wonder if you imagined the slight curt in his tone, but Minghao nods once again and says he’ll see what he can do.

“You don’t have to, though!” You say, suddenly conscious that you’re making him draw something for you.

“It’s okay. I didn’t know what to draw, anyway.” He grins to assure you, but you can tell that there’s something going on inside his head that you don’t dare to ask.

“Alright… But don’t feel bad if you want to draw something else, okay?” You manage to say, hoping that you don’t sound like you’re putting a distance between the two of you. Minghao changes the topic from then, and it’s not long until you find yourself arriving at the cafe.

It’s weird, what you’re feeling. You’re both afraid and excited, as art has always been something that you associate with Mingyu. You never do it with anyone else, or even by yourself, for that matter. Mingyu was the only reason you’re even interested in it, and you’re pretty sure you would never even try if it wasn’t for him.

And now you’re here. About to go to a cafe where you can draw at, a cafe you had promised Mingyu you’d go together with…

And now you��re here.

With someone else.

“Let’s go?” Minghao’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, something you’re incredibly thankful for because you’re just about to spiral into a hurricane of emotion otherwise.

Half an hour later, you find yourself sitting side by side with Minghao as the busy sound of the cafe fills the silence between you two. You straighten your back as you exhale a deep breath, the sound of it makes Minghao chuckle from beside you.

“What flower is that?” You glance at his drawing, intrigued by the amount of details Minghao pours into it despite not having any reference whatsoever. He’s drawing by memory, you assume, as you can’t see his phone anywhere near him, and now that you really look at his drawing, you think you’ve seen the flower before.

Minghao pauses before he answers you, his gaze fixated on the paper in front of him. “Forsythia.”

You hum as you take out your phone, looking up the flower to see pictures of them. It’s when you quietly mutter to yourself that Minghao turns to you, a small smile on his face as he sees you admire the flowers.

“You know them?”

You shake your head, then close your phone and return to the paper in front of you. You’ve drawn nothing but the night sky, poorly drawn hills, and a few street lamps along the street. It’s nowhere near good drawing, but at least you can tell for sure that those objects are identifiable and that’s enough win for you.

Like going here trying to draw.

Like going here without shedding a tear even though your lips trembled when you step into the cafe.

That’s enough win for now.

“Can I ask something?” his voice brings you out of your thoughts, and when you nod, his voice is hesitant despite your okay. “Why… is it so dark?”

“What is?”

“Your drawing.”

Huh. Is it?

“Is there any reason you’re not drawing the moon or stars?”

You blink at the question, then look again at the night sky you’ve been drawing the past thirty minutes. The constellation mark behind your ear suddenly stings a little; have you come to hate astronomical objects so much that you end up drawing nothing but the sky without even realizing?

“It just… didn’t occur to me.” You offer him a small smile, your colored pencil hovering upon the night sky. “I can’t draw them now though, can I?”

He hums as he skims your drawing, then his eyes glance at the pack of colored pencils next to you.

“Yeah. It’d be hard to draw the moon because you’ve colored most of the night sky.” He nods and smiles your way, one that you return with a tilt of your head. “It’s okay though. It’s still pretty as it is. Some nights we can’t see the stars and the moon anyway. Doesn’t really matter, right?”

…Doesn’t really matter, huh? You bite your lip as you ponder over his words, your mark feels like it’s tingling behind your ear.

“Can I ask something too?” You say after some time, eyes still focused on the flower he’s drawing.

“Sure.”

“I notice there are a lot of flowers in your paintings back home. Is there a reason why you like painting flowers so much?” His movement pauses at your question, and, for a second, you wonder if you’re intruding. But Minghao answers before you can retract your question, his hand moves again to fill in the color in the petal.

“It’s my soulmate mark.” His tone is much too nonchalant for such a topic, but as much as Minghao can tell you’re hurting by the look of your eyes, you can also tell he’s hiding by the tightness in his voice.

It’s very subtle, but from your point of view, it can’t be anymore obvious that Minghao is also struggling, presumably about something along the same line as you. Soulmate isn’t a sensitive topic for most people, but now that you’ve seen him this way, you can tell at once that you both share the same reluctance towards the issue.

At least it’s also clear that he’s coping far better than you are. Whatever’s happened between him and his soulmate, you hope it’s not as bad as what befell you.

“You wouldn’t know which one though,” he jokes to divert the topic. It’s more for your sake than it is for him, you feel like. He probably knows you’re not sure what to comment on that.

“I’m sure they’re pretty either way.” You comment vaguely, suddenly itching to touch the constellation behind your ear. You hesitate before you continue, unsure if it’s okay to bring it up again, but you also feel bad and you let your feelings override yourself for once. “I’m sorry I made you draw flowers.”

Minghao completely stops at that, and even though you’re not sure what you were expecting, you surely didn’t expect amusement clouding his face when you meet his gaze.

“Why are you sorry though?”

“Just felt like I needed to apologize.” You shrug, your voice gets gradually smaller as you continue. “Seems like it’s personal to you.”

“It’s fine. Like you said, I do paint a lot of flowers.” His smile is genuine, and you’re glad that he really does sound amused if anything.

Your conversation shifts from there, the two of you swift through light-hearted topics as you finish your drawings. You watch as the staff turn your drawing into an acrylic key ring, a happy smile on your face as you look at the result in your hand.

It’s definitely much better than you expected, and you think it’s good that you went with Minghao because, had it been Jeonghan, you would’ve cried thinking about Mingyu the whole time. You’re glad you went with your roommate, someone between a stranger and a friend, someone that you need to be careful with but close enough that it’s not uncomfortable.

“Yours is so pretty…” You mutter in fascination as you peek at Minghao’s, happy to take the key ring from him when he asks if you want to look closely.

“You can take it.” He says with the entirety of his heart, the grin on his face painted with pride. It’s one thing to have people sing praises to his work, but it’s another story altogether when he sees someone like you who looks at his creation like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. When you ask if he’s sure you can have it like it doesn’t make sense for him to just give it away, he chuckles and nods. “You look like you’d appreciate it. That’s good enough for me.”

“Thank you!” You clutch the keyring between your palms, telling him you’d take good care of it. “I’d offer you mine but…”

“I’ll take it.” He offers you his palm, and then chuckles some more when you ask again if he’s sure about his choice. “You doubt me a lot, huh?”

“It’s just… Mine isn’t as pretty though.” You scrunch your nose as you hand him your result. Yes, it’s better than you expected, but still…

“I saw how much effort you put into that.” He begins, his thumb caressing your keyring. “And I did say it looks pretty, no? I wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better.”

Whispering a small thank you, Minghao almost laughs at how shy you look at his compliment. He looks at the keyring again, a picture of street lamps beneath the night sky. Then his mind pictures your focused frown when you were drawing them, and then to the conversation he had with you almost two weeks ago about this very cafe; how you were holding back tears and how you had reacted when he brought up the cafe.

And now here you are, talking animatedly about how the experience has been much more fun than you expected it to be. And even though he did catch you spacing out from time to time, he notices how determined you are from the beginning. Determined to do what, he can only guess.

He thinks he’ll think of you now everytime he looks at the night sky.

He gazes at the keyring yet again, and then at you next to him.

He thinks he has never seen an effort so beautiful.

Mingyu loved seeing you with your hair up; a pony tail, a bun, anything that let him see your whole face and didn’t cover your soulmate mark if only a little. The location of your soulmate mark doesn’t really allow you a lot of hairstyles that won’t cover it, but if you have your hair up, you’d at least be able to see half of the constellation that stops just a little below your ear.

That said, you wear your hair down most of the time after he’s left, having developed a habit of hiding the black constellation scattered there. The most you’d do to your hair is to tie half of it, which doesn't happen a lot.

“I have a question.” Minghao says as he pours your empty glass of wine once again. Minghao was chilling by himself when you returned from the convenience store, and when you saw the wine bottle on the coffee table, you had been quick to ask if you could join his little routine.

“Shoot.” Undeniably, you’ve gotten closer with him the past few months. You hadn’t expected to find a friend when you first moved in, but Minghao clicks with you in ways you haven’t really clicked with others that you can easily say he’s one of your close friends now.

It’s different, what you have with him.

Jeonghan is your voice of reason as much as he is the devil’s advocate; he’d push and push and push but he also knows when to pull you back when necessary. He cares for you like a best friend and an older brother, having his own way to change between the two roles accordingly.

You’re not the closest with Lisa. She’s not the kind of friend you’d look for first when you need someone to talk to, but you only have good memories with her since high school and it’s always laughter filling your cheeks everytime you meet up with her. You trust her when it comes to it, and she’s a token of happy memories you keep in your life.

Mingyu… Mingyu is–was your soulmate. He understood you without you saying anything, he knew when to leave you alone and when to coax you into telling him what’s bothering you. He spoiled you like there’s no tomorrow, listened when your rambling didn’t make any sense, and held you in his arms on nights you didn’t want to talk to anyone. He’s loud with his affection, never hesitated to show you his love even though he knew you’re never insecure when it came to that.

But Minghao… he observes and hypothesizes. He’s calculated and he’s silent with his concern. He doesn’t always ask when he thinks something might be up, simply leaves you be and you’d find a cup of iced chocolate or an ice cream with a note that lets you know they belong to you the next day. He pretends he doesn’t know you’re crying even though you’re sure you look like a mess, he’d just ask if you want to eat something or if he should just order online.

You don’t have a lot of friends, but from the few that you have, Minghao is the most like you.

And now that you think about it, you somehow gravitate towards those much different that you are; people who are loud in the best way possible. Which is why your friendship with Minghao feels different in ways that you can’t really describe.

“Why do you never tie your hair?” You have expected Minghao to ask this question sooner, if you’re being honest, as you’re sure that he’s noticed this since before. You’ve caught him eyeing your long hair from time to time, mostly when you two are out and it’s hot outside while you stubbornly let your hair down for the sake of covering your ear.

“Does it bother you?” You ask while sipping on your wine. It’s your fourth glass already, and even though you’re not usually a fan of alcohol, there would be days like this when you just feel like letting loose and crave for some.

Minghao shakes his head and changes the song playing in the background, finding something softer than the jazz instrument he played earlier. It’s another lazy Saturday night for the two of you, and between liking to stay at home and your somewhat similar personality, it’s really not surprising how easy it was to be close to Minghao in the span of five months.

How could you not when the two of you almost always spend your days together, even more your weekends? Jeonghan would join you from time to time, or he’d drag you out and there would be days when Minghao also tags along.

So, really, it’s safe to say you’re with Xu Minghao almost 70% of the time except for the time when you’re at work.

“Not really. Just wondering because it looks hot to go around like that all the time.”

You hum as you contemplate your next words. You could’ve just brushed it off like you always do when people ask, but a part of you has finally arrived at a place where it wants to let him know about Mingyu even only a little.

After all, there are days when you share your pain with him. None of you really talk about it, but you’d both vaguely mention about sad romance from time to time; enough for the two of you to be almost sure that, yes, there’s something wrong about the soulmate situations upon you both.

Perhaps it’s the alcohol in your system. Or perhaps it’s the dream you had of Mingyu last night, his fingers tucking your hair behind your ear and smiling at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on.

That’s probably why you feel like drinking today.

While moving in with Minghao proves to be a good step towards moving, it doesn’t mean you’ve stopped crying when Mingyu appears in your dreams, which no longer happens quite often. There are still days when you’d read his old messages and stare at old pictures. When you’d open his Instagram account that’s no longer active and scroll through his aesthetically arranged feed.

It doesn’t hurt as much anymore, but you still get choked up for obvious reasons.

At least he no longer resides in your mind on a daily basis, though the thought also weighs like a boulder upon your heart.

You… want to move on from him, but you also don’t.

The amount of love you hold for Mingyu is more than you think possible, it’s overwhelming and it’s a burden at times. You didn’t think you could love someone like you did Mingyu, soulmate or not.

You don’t mind though. Even though the love is heavy and you don’t think you can ever love anyone–anything as much as you love Mingyu, you don’t mind and you still want to do it.

You still want to do it now even if he’s no longer with you. Even if his scent has completely faded from every single belonging of his that you bring with you to your new place.

The fact that you’re actually getting used to a life without him hurts.

It hurts almost as much as the day you lost him.

It hurts because you’re close to forgetting how he even sounded if not for the hoard of videos of him in your phone.

Aren’t you supposed to be together forever? To hold each other every night and spend the rest of your life basking in each other’s warmth?

Aren’t you supposed to be soulmates? What the fuck went up there that decided you’re not going to have a happy ending with your soulmate?

You want to be okay without him.

You don't want to be okay without him.

Minghao’s concerned voice brings you out of your trance, and it’s only when you taste something salty in your lips that you realize you’ve been crying.

For all the time Minghao pretends he’s never noticed you crying, this can’t be one of them. Not when your tears come out of nowhere when you were spacing out for a few seconds upon his question. And when he asks in a hushed whisper whether you want him to hold you, you don’t even answer as you dive straight to his embrace, your tears refusing to stop now that you’re in someone’s arms.

He doesn’t seem to mind though and, for some reason, the way his arms gently circle around you makes you cry even harder. It’s such a contrast with Mingyu’s tight embrace, he always made sure to hug you hard, something to remind you that he’s there and you have him with you.

Minghao's hold is careful but sure, the way he hugs you is almost ticklish, like you’d break if he hugs you just a little too tight. Except for the few times you fell asleep on his shoulder upon movie nights, this is the first time you’ve ever been this physically close with Minghao.

You end up telling a gist of Mingyu that night, tying up your hair to show him your soulmate mark. If Minghao’s surprised at its color, he doesn’t show it, and it’s you who gasp in shock when he tugs the neckline of his shirt to show you his own blackened soulmate mark near his collarbone.

IMinghao starts talking first, as he figures it might be easier for you if you know he’s been through something along the same line. He never really likes talking about his soulmate, doesn’t really have any reason to do so either. But looking at you like this, it’s the urge to comfort you that overrides his usual reluctance.

If his pain can be anything other than pain… if it can even help someone in some way, perhaps it’d be better to share the story he’s been holding to himself.

“She left me for someone else.” You want to wipe the weak smile off his face, want to tell him that he doesn’t have to act like he’s okay because you can’t even begin to imagine the amount of pain Minghao went through. “Said she found someone better and she doesn’t believe in soulmates. That we’re too different and believed the fact that we’re soulmates just proved that fate is nothing but stupid games.”

You know whatever words you offer him wouldn’t be enough.

You know.

You know because nothing anyone says would be enough to comfort you.

So you share him your pain, show him that he’s not alone and you know how it feels to be left behind.

The story you tell him is a very oversimplified version of the whole thing, that your soulmate is no longer with you and it’s still hard even though you’re coping. Though you do tell him that you did move into his house due to the same person.

Minghao’s gaze doesn’t falter as you tell him a very small part of your story, just enough to know you’re both hurting in the same way. That you’ve both lost the people who're supposed to be your destiny regardless of the reasons why. He doesn’t hesitate when he wipes your tears with his thumb, the look in his eyes is anything but pity.

Your lips still tremble despite your tears stopping, making it hard for you to continue talking even if you’re not sure how much you’re going to tell Minghao that night. But in a moment of weakness, your gaze falls to his lips the same time his eyes fall to yours. And when your eyes find each other a second later, you have no idea who makes the first move and how your lips end up upon his.

The kiss you share with him is soft; your lips upon his over and over again, your palms firmly planted on his shoulders as his stays on your waist. You have no idea either how long the kiss lasts for, but the kiss is sad as much as it is comforting, your fingers balling into fists as you grasp his shirt to get yourself together.

You wonder if Minghao can also taste the salty tears falling from your eyes upon his lips.

It’s him who pulls away first, and he doesn’t give you a chance to meet his eyes as he pushes you into the juncture of his neck and kisses the top of your head.

For the first time, Mingyu’s smile is sad when he appears in your dream.

He’s trying to tell you something, but there’s no sound coming out of his lips and your eyes are too blurry to make sense of his words. You’ve missed him so much, and you hate that he looks concerned when it’s been so long since you’ve dreamed of him.

You can still feel the fluttering warmth of Mingyu’s lips on your forehead when you wake up, only to find Minghao holding you to his chest as you both lay on the couch, his eyes closed and his protective arms firm around your figure.

You're not avoiding Minghao.

You've honestly just been plagued by the last dream you had of Mingyu that you’ve been a little dysfunctional for the past week. You haven’t got the chance to tell Jeonghan about the dream nor what went down that night, and you plan on telling him tonight in the comfort of your bedroom just in case you’d be crying again.

You’ve texted Minghao Jeonghan might be sleeping over that night, though he might also go home if he suddenly decides otherwise. You stare at your phone as you bite your lip, hating how you can even tell how awkward you two are even over texts.

[14:22] Hao, is it ok if Jeonghan stays the night? He might also suddenly decide to go home tho!!! I promise we’ll stay quiet

[18:45] Minghao 🍀: Sorry, I thought I replied already.

[18:46] Minghao 🍀: And sure. You know I don’t mind Jeonghan.

[18:46] Minghao 🍀: Thanks for the heads up.

Minghao doesn’t usually answer late, and it’s worrying you a little that it takes him almost four long hours to answer you. Isn’t he working from home today?

You really need to get back to your senses and fix whatever weird situation between you and your roommate. Though, truthfully, you know it’s just you making it weird because Minghao has been acting like usual. The smile he gave you when you both woke up in each other’s arms still haunts you among other things.

And while it’s true you’re not avoiding him, it’s also true you don’t know how to face him after that day.

“When’s Jeonghan picking you up?” Lisa snaps you out of your trance, sipping the last of her coffee. It’s been quite some time since you met up with her, and her text has come right when you need a happy distraction so you’re more than happy to accept the invitation and meet her after work, which is why your hang out with Jeonghan has been pushed accordingly.

It’s the weekend tomorrow, anyway.

“In a bit.” As usual, spending time with Lisa means having a good time. Usually, it’s followed by a good night sleep on your part, but as much as you love spending time with her, the thought of Mingyu, Minghao, and wanting to talk to Jeonghan about them clouds your mind to the point where you’re sure you won’t be having a good night sleep tonight. “He’s stuck in traffic.”

It’s about fifteen minutes later that Jeonghan comes in, and he sits down next to you to talk with Lisa for a bit before you part ways with her. You listen to him talk about work as he drives, offering your thoughts on the matters that you think would help.

When he pulls into Minghao's driveways you stop him from getting off the car, ripping the bandaid with one go because you don’t know how to do it otherwise.

“Me and Minghao kissed last week.”

Jeonghan looks at you wide-eyed, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the right thing to say.

“Just telling you now because I… well, there’s a chance Minghao might catch it if I tell you later.”

He stares at you in what you’d describe as worry, but before you can ask him to explain, he grabs your hand and gives it a comforting squeeze. “But you’re okay?”

“Somewhat.” You squeeze his hand back. “I’ll tell you everything after dinner.”

Surprisingly, Junhui’s voice greets you the moment you open the door. He’s speaking Chinese, your mind registers, and if his tone indicates anything, he’s upset and he’s nagging. You don’t see Minghao anywhere though, and you find Junhui by himself in the kitchen, hanging up on whoever’s on the other line before he slips his phone back into his pocket.

“Jun?”

“Oh. Hi. Want some soup?” He says like it’s normal that he’s here cooking without the owner of the house.

“What are you doing?”

“Minghao’s down with a high fever.” He shakes his head as he stirs the soup in front of him. “He’s sleeping now.”

Minghao’s sick? Is that why you didn’t see him at all this morning? Why didn’t he tell you, though? You could’ve brought him something had you known.

“Can I… talk to you for a bit?” Junhui asks, his eyes flickering to Jeonghan behind you. The older guy seems to get the message, quickly leaving the kitchen and into the living room before you even answer. “Something happened between you and Hao, huh?”

For all it’s worth, you know Junhui has always been a protective friend. You’ve never been particularly close with him, but he’s close with Mingyu and you know what kinda person Junhui is courtesy of Mingyu’s words. He’s playful and he’s caring. Mingyu used to say Junhui isn’t the kind of person he would want to be enemies with, that he’s glad he’s friends with the older guy.

So to have him look at you with a piercing gaze, it’s hard for you not to deflate under his eyes.

“You don’t need to tell me anything. He didn’t either.” He starts, and then hesitates before he continues. “I… How are you?”

Your eyes prickle with tears at his question, because you know he’s not just asking about you in general. It’s there even if he doesn’t say it outright: how are you coping without Mingyu?

You try your best to blink the tears back, but fail when Junhui reaches out and pats your head. Your palm blocks the sob out of your mouth, and it’s when Junhui says his next words that your sobs turn into pathetic whimpers.

“Don’t think about it too much, okay? I know it’s hard without him. But if there’s anyone who can take care of you like he did… I’m sure he would’ve wanted you to take that chance.”

It’s hard to listen to him and not cry. Not when you know how close Junhui was with Mingyu. They’re not the bestest of friends, but were still close enough to spend nights drinking with each other to talk about life and the problems that came within.

Between all of Mingyu’s friends, you knew Junhui was one of the people he respected most.

“Mingyu used to say you always think about him before anything.” His voice trembles as he says it, and that’s when you realize you’ve only spoken about Mingyu once with him after the whole thing. As much as you’re hurting, you know they are too, to certain points. “But I think… I think it’s okay not to think of him first now. You don’t need to forget him. But try to think of yourself too, alright?”

You nod, not being able to say anything to that. While you haven’t actually dwelled on what you’re feeling for Minghao, it’s true that you’ve always stopped yourself from even thinking about it because of Mingyu. He’d come into your mind everytime Minghao does, and while it helps a little to know that at least you’ve both lost your soulmates, it’s still hard for you to think that you’d be replacing Mingyu somehow.

You don’t want to replace Mingyu.

You don’t want Minghao to be a rebound.

But is he, really?

“I’m not saying you have to decide now whether you want to give Minghao a try or not. But… you deserve another chance at happiness, okay? And whether it's with Minghao or not, I hope you'll take it when the chance presents itself to you.” He whispers softly.

It’d be a lie if you say you’ve never tried to think about Minghao in that light. Because you have, you have since that day you went to the cafe and drew with him. But Mingyu clouds your mind, and a part of you always feels like you’re betraying him and his memories if you even think about being with someone else.

“I promise Mingyu wouldn’t want you to hold yourself back from a chance of another happiness.” You cry harder at this, palm still covering your mouth to stop your sob from echoing throughout the house. “I know it’s still hard to accept that Mingyu is no longer here. I know, trust me, I do. I lost my little brother too that day, and if it’s hard for me as a friend, I can only imagine how hard it is for you who lost your soulmate. But you can’t trap yourself in his memories forever, right?”

It’s then that you cry, cry, and cry.

It’s one thing to think to yourself that you’ve lost him, that he’s not with you anymore and there’s nothing you can do about it. But it’s another to hear it from someone else’s mouth right in front of your face.

It reminds you of that night a year and a half ago in the hospital, the words ringing in your head over and over again until it’s the only thing that echoes in your mind.

Mingyu is gone.

He’s gone and he’s not coming back to you.

He can’t come back to you.

No matter how much you’ve cried into your pillow and cursed at the gods to bring him back to you, it’s nothing but a futile attempt because he’s not here.

He’s no longer in this world and your heart still aches everytime you think about the fact that he’s dead and you can’t see him anymore.

What’s the use of having a soulmate if he’s going to leave you first out of nowhere?

What’s the use of having a soulmate when you couldn’t even do anything to protect him from the accident that took his life?

What the fuck is the use of having a soulmate if you’re not going to end up together with him for the rest of your life?

It’s then that Jeonghan rushes to the kitchen, immediately kneeling beside you on the floor because you don’t have any energy to even stand on your feet at this point. You don't even realize you're wailing, your palm doing nothing to help stopping your broken cry.

Jeonghan can't hear anything but your sobs since earlier, but he knows your talk with Junhui is long overdue, which is why he’s been holding himself back from barging in even though he’s been worried. But how can he stay still if he's heard you let out a loud cry followed by a thud?

Junhui follows and kneels next to you, patting your head once again as he wipes your tears to no avail.

“Think about it… okay?”

You’re spacing out as you lean on Jeonghan’s shoulder when Junhui knocks on your door. You’ve spent the last hour telling your best friend everything, from the way you’ve been suppressing your thoughts about Minghao to the talk with Junhui earlier. In a true Jeonghan style, he has offered you a piece of his mind followed by saying he agrees with Junhui though he doesn't fail to remind you to take your time thinking about it.

“Do you mind taking care of Minghao or do you want me to stay over?” It’s almost ten in the evening, you look at the clock on your wall, and you suppose Junhui is trying to figure out if he should go home now or not. “He gets a little needy when he’s sick but doesn’t say anything.”

You look at Jeonghan for some reason, and when he offers you nothing but raised eyebrows, you turn to Junhui and say you’d take care of Minghao for him.

“You sure?” He asks one more time. “I can just stay over if you don’t want to.”

Junhui chooses those words for a reason. He didn’t ask if you can do it, he makes sure to let you know that it’s okay if you don’t want to.

But you do. As much as you’re conflicted, you can’t deny the worry bubbling in your chest the moment you heard Minghao’s down with fever to the point where it's hard for him to even get out of bed.

“I’ll take care of him.” You say with a determined nod, your arm squeezing Jeonghan’s for support.

“Then I’ll trust you with him.” You’re probably looking too much into it. You have no idea if Minghao has confided Junhui in what’s transpired between the two of you, but his words seem to mean more to you regardless of his real intention.

“I’ll take you home then.” Jeonghan surprises you both, patting your cheek before he gently lets go of you. “I don’t think it’s me you need to be with tonight.”

It’s silent once the two went home, and you’re left on your own in the living room. You try to think about your talk with the two men, but your head pounds a little from all the crying. Your eyes are probably puffy too, though at least they’re not red and you probably just need to drink some water to help your headache.

You close your eyes and exhale as you lean your head back against the sofa head. Has it really been one and a half year since you lost Mingyu?

It's funny, grieving. You never really get over it, and as much as you claim you're okay and you've accepted that he's no longer with you, you know you'd never entirely accept that deep down in your heart.

Some days Mingyu doesn't cross your mind at all. Some days you can suddenly cry in between conversations because his name rings across your head for no apparent reason.

Time seems to be too fast and too slow when it comes to memories of Mingyu. You never really thought about finding a new romance before, if only because you live in a world where soulmates exist and Mingyu took your heart with him the moment he left this world.

It must be some sort of twisted fate too for you to find Minghao, another shattered soul whose soulmate left him by choice. As much as it hurt you to lose Mingyu the way you did, you couldn’t imagine how Minghao picked up the pieces of his broken heart because the person who’s supposed to be his forever left him for selfish reasons.

You can’t imagine how his heart can still be as pure as it is with the pain it went through.

While you don’t know yet what exactly went down, what you know for sure is how beautiful of a person Minghao is. He probably knows you’re struggling since the beginning. He’s been considerate in more ways than you could’ve imagined, in his own soft, subtle way to the point where you didn’t realize he’s taking care of you.

It took you quite some time to realize, but it makes sense because you can recognize the pain that flashes through his eyes too from time to time. As two owners of broken fate, it’s not surprising that you recognize one another.

The sound of the door creaking brings you back from your head, and you see Minghao looking a little lost when the door opens, probably wondering why the house is dark and quiet.

“Why are you out of bed?” You scold him softly as you make your way to him. You usher him back to bed, but Minghao insists his body hurts from laying down too much and he needs to stretch a little.

So you make him sit on the sofa instead, which he whines at because it’s not that different, but his heart softens at your concerned whine so he decides entertaining you shouldn’t be too bad even if he feels like walking around the house.

“Drink some water.” You hand him his usual mug, then plops beside him as your palm automatically reaches for his forehead, cheek, and then neck. Minghao doesn’t say anything as he stares at you, though he shivers at your touch because your palm is cold when it meets his skin. “Your fever has gone down, I think."

“Were you worried?” his voice asks softly. Almost hopeful, even. None of you bothers to turn on the lights, though the light peeking from the kitchen helps just enough for you two to see each other albeit dimly.

You think Minghao might be a little delirious, but Junhui did say Minghao gets needy when he’s sick, so you do the least you can do and decide to throw away all of your thoughts for the night. What matters right now is that he’s sick and you want to take care of him.

“I was. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” It’s funny the way you’re both talking like it’s a secret. Your soft voices barely heard throughout the house even though it’s loud enough just for the two of you.

Minghao shrugs, not offering you any explanation. But you see it in his eyes, in the way he hesitates and shakes his head. He probably didn’t think it was okay to tell you.

“Tell me next time, okay? Though it would be better if you don’t get sick again.”

He hums and it’s silent after that. Minghao turns to the window, looking at the dark night outside. “Did Junhui go home?”

“Yeah. I told him I’d take care of you.”

“Did you?” His voice gets even softer when he says this, both hopeful and afraid. But before you can say anything, he cuts you off and asks again. “And Jeonghan?”

“Took Junhui home.” You pause before you continue. Is it a good time to bring it up now? Would it be better to do it when you’re both awake and well? Listen to your heart, okay? It’s okay to put your guard down sometimes. Jeonghan’s words from earlier ring in your head. “Said that it’s not him I need to be with tonight.”

If he’s surprised, Minghao doesn’t show it. But his stare seems to pierce through the dark and you can’t find it in you to look away. Mingyu appears once again in your mind, but you try your best to suppress the thought before you find yourself deep into it.

“Is there anyone you need to be with tonight?”

“Mmh. Maybe.” You try to be nonchalant, very conscious of the way your heart is beating loudly against your chest. You look out the window before you start talking again, a pensive look on your face as you contemplate your words. “It’s weirdly dark tonight, huh?”

Minghao follows your sight and nods, waiting for you to say more. You gather your hair and move them to your right shoulder, and from where he’s at, he can see the black stars peeking behind your left ear.

“It’s Cassiopeia, my mark.” You start, your eyes still locked on the night sky. “I tried looking them up once, but I suppose I’m not smart enough to actually understand the story. Mingyu did though, and he’d pop up a quiz from time to time to see if there’s anything I retain from all the time he babbled about our identical marks.”

He doesn’t know where you’re going with this, but his hand finds yours and he’s glad you don’t pull away, simply holds his hand tighter as if you’re looking for something to keep you going. His heart cracks at your weak smile, but he knows you have more to say and he’s more than willing to listen.

“I ended up liking them though; the celestial objects. The moon, the stars, planets, everything that’s up there in the sky. I found fascination in them and I’d find myself buying stuff with their patterns.”

Minghao can’t see you clearly because of the dark, but he imagines your eyes are watering up by the slight tremble of your voice.

“And then it stopped when Mingyu died. I don’t hate them, but it hurts to see them and… if you remember my drawing those months ago, I suppose that’s why my drawing was so dark even if I did it unconsciously.”

You pause to take a breath, your hand tightens around Minghao’s. “I think he took all the stars with him the night he left. That selfish jerk.”

His heart clenches painfully at your weak chuckle, at the way your hand reaches up to wipe your own tears, and at the way you take a deep breath in determination.

“But… But it’s okay even if we can’t see the stars, right?”

Minghao gapes at his own words from that day you drew together, words that he said without much thought but seems to hit you in ways that he would never imagine. He tightens his grip on you, and then pulls you to his shoulder before taking his turn to speak.

“You probably don’t recognize it. But forsythia is my soulmate mark.” He says as he caresses your knuckle, his mind taking him back to the exact day you referred to just seconds ago. “I knew it took a lot for you to be there. And even though I didn’t know exactly why, I could tell it was hard. But you pulled through and I thought I should do the same. So when you asked me to draw a flower, I knew I had to draw the most beautiful forsythia I could ever draw in my life.”

“I used to hate them, you know?” You can hear him smile even though you’re buried in his shoulder, his arm that has made its way around you pushes you more into himself. “But you saw that drawing like it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. I didn’t think much of it at first, but I saw you carrying around that keyring everyday and it’s… something. I’ve heard a lot of people compliment my works, but I’ve never seen someone appreciate it as much as you do. It wasn’t intentional, but I think you helped me get through it without even meaning to.”

You pull away to look him in the eyes, and for someone who claims you don’t find beauty in stars anymore, you almost want to dive into Minghao’s eyes that seem to twinkle with all the stars Mingyu took with him.

“Do you know what forsythia symbolizes?” You know he’s not expecting you to actually know, so you shake your head and urge him to continue. “Anticipation, apparently. Because they bloom in spring and signal the beginning of one. I’d like to interpret it as the flower of a new beginning.”

You almost cry again at what it implies; at what it can imply not only for him but for the two of you. Is it too early to jump into that? Is it too fast? Weren’t you just crying about Mingyu hours ago?

“We don’t have to figure it out now.” His voice rings through the night, his fingers caress your arm to shield you from whatever’s in the dark of night. “The morning will come eventually even when the night is long, right?”

“Yeah.” You succumb into his embrace as you smile through your tears. But how can you not when Minghao says those words like Mingyu did many nights ago?

“Don’t think about it too much.” He kissed your cheek and hugged you close to his chest, to shut you up more than anything, really. “It’s not like the morning won’t come even if the night is a little too long. Focus on what you have in front of you, instead okay?”

“But what if–”

“No.” He cut you off, his palm covering your mouth as he laughed at your glare. “No what if. Let’s enjoy the night while we’re at it.”

“You sound stupid.” You rolled your eyes in mock annoyance despite the way your heart swelled in affection.

“You love me anyway.” He grinned cheekily, which you laughed at out of embarrassment because if there’s one thing you could never do, it’s to deny your love for him even jokingly.

“Hao?”

“Hm?”

“You’ll hold me through the night, right?”

He smiles like it’s not even a question, his fingers intertwining with yours as if to make a point.

“Yeah.”

“Even if it’s a long one?”

He clasps your hand tighter, his thumb caressing your knuckle.

“Yeah.”

A/N 2: hi!! it's been quite some time since i write anything along this genre. i've always wanted to write soulmate!au and while this isn't exactly heartfluttering like soulmate!au usually is, i hope you enjoyed it one way or another. this fic got longer than i originally planned, but i hope you guys enjoyed it and please do send me your thoughts through anything you're comfortable with. i know it sounds repetitive at this point, but it's truly your feedbacks that keep me goin<3

A/N 3: did any of u guessed gyu di*d btw

permanent taglist: @kyeomjjigae @stantrash171819 @sebongmochi @luveveryonewoo @thinkinboutwonu @kpopjackie @ursweetener @lavenderautumnx @itsveronicaxxx @shuahoshiscoups @sunshinein17 @leechanniee @twogyuu @hoe4wonwoo @h3h3tm0n @noraehey @seokshook @rubyhoons @02psh @just-here-to-read-01 @listxn @janandbeyond @pearlygraysky @baekhyunstruly

also tagging: @joonsytip

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mybiasisexo · 5 months

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Entangled - Part 9

Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader Chapter Warnings: Alcohol Consumption | Language take a shot whenever you see the f word smh Word Count: 8.3k Author Notes: So...Im sorry 😬? But aye, what's a story without a beach chapter, am I right?? I can't believe how close we are to the finish line. I think we have 3 chapters left ??? give or take. wooow will I actually finish a story for the first time in my life?? (like a real one not just a lil scenario haha). Sorry for the late update, I was gonna post on yeols bday but thought this wasnt a great present lmfaooo As always, dont be shy with letting me know your thoughts on the chapter, a def will need to know how you all feel at the end of this one 😮‍💨. Thank you to everybody still rocking with the story, it means sooo much to me 💕 and give our boy chanyeol some loooove MWAH!!!

It doesn’t take Seulgi and you long to change and head down to the beach. Being able to see the guys from up in your room, you join them quickly.

They got their hands on a grill somehow, and you find Jongdae already cooking on it, beer in one hand.

“Already looking like a dad, Dae,” Seulgi announces in greeting, taking in his unbuttoned green Hawaiian shirt, oversized sunglasses, and fisherman’s hat. He grins brightly and rewards her with a fresh piece of juicy meat.

Beside Jongdae and the grill sits a long table covered with food, drinks, and a bluetooth speaker currently playing chill R&B. A little further behind him is a blue canopy to block the blazing sun from your sensitive skin, chairs littered underneath it.

This area of the beach is privately owned, for hotel residents only. Despite how large the hotel is, only a few other families dot the shore, all far enough away that your little party is practically secluded.

You drop your bag onto a chair and dig into it, pulling out a bottle of sunscreen. You rub it into any skin of yours exposed before walking out of the canopy, holding it up for everyone to see. “Who needs some?”

Sehun and Jongin come running towards you, both only wearing swim trunks. You suck your teeth, their backs are probably already screaming at them.

Jongin gets to you first. You turn him around and begin to apply the protective lotion onto his back, where it will be hard for him to reach.

“We missed you last night,” he says.

“I know,” you reply. For some reason, your throat constricts, dragging your voice down to a deep mumble. “I’m sorry for leaving. I just….”

“I understand,” he says, patting one of your hands. Throwing his head back, he tosses you a sweet grin. You return his smile before handing him the bottle so that he can cover the rest of himself.

With Jongin preoccupied, Sehun makes his way over, already trying to get a read on you. He understands the language of your body enough to fill in blanks you don’t even know are empty.

“Good afternoon,” you greet, keeping your voice neutral.

“He’s in the water,” is his reply.

“Who?” Damn this man. He’s good.

He scoffs. “Please, you’ve been scanning the area non stop since you’ve arrived. Baekhyun had to drag him out as soon as he got here. He was getting pretty worked up about something. I’m assuming it was the fact you weren’t here.”

“Weird,” is your convincing response. You push his arm, leading him to turn around so that you can attempt to save him from skin cancer.

“Weird, indeed.” Despite not being able to see you, his curious gaze can still be felt. “Makes me wonder what happened after you left the reception.”

“Not something I really want to talk about.” You wince, knowing you’ve slipped up and said too much. The simple sentence bares a lot to unpack, and Sehun loves other people’s dirty laundry.

But, in Sehun fashion, he doesn’t push. It’s one thing you love about him. Instead, he faces you and grabs the sunscreen, silently lotioning the rest of his body. When he’s done he reaches over to you, pulling at the black kimono you had meticulously put on over your swimsuit, to return the favor.

“Sehun!”

He yanks the thin fabric and it falls off your shoulders. You both freeze. He only lifts an eyebrow as his eyes rake down the expansion of your exposed skin littered in harsh dark bruises. His gaze lingers for an uncomfortably long time. You want to pull away, but find yourself paralyzed, a mouse caught in the stare of a hungry snake.

“Stop staring.”

The voice is gruff. A wet hand pulls at your arm, ripping the kimono from Sehun’s frozen hand. You stumble backwards until you hit a chill wetness that makes you hiss as it soaks into your back. Sehun’s eyes are the only thing to move as they shift to the person protectively hovering behind you. His expression is cool, but you catch the way his eyes alight in amusement. Swallowing thickly, you work the courage to see who’s caught his attention….

Chanyeol stops glaring at Sehun long enough to spin you around so that you’re facing each other. With gentle fingers, he fixes your pullover, maneuvering it so that it’s covering your neck, hiding most of the damage.

He clicks his tongue in dismay. “This won’t do.”

“I have a shirt,” you inform in a small voice. “It doesn’t have a collar though.”

“One second.” Chanyeol walks away, no longer blocking the radiant view of crashing teal waves, powdery sand, and miles of blue sky. White clouds speckle the troposphere, the negative image of your neck and chest. Off to your right, Sehun still stands, a glorious statue made of pale marble.

You can’t bring yourself to acknowledge his presence.

Chanyeol returns. In his hands is the ugly Hawaiian shirt Jongdae was wearing.

You become aware of the rashguard covering his torso. The collar is high, covering the base of his neck where any hickeys can be hidden, although you can just barely see the start of one peeking out. You curse yourself for not thinking of buying one.

“May I?” He gently asks. Is that not how he asked to strip you last night? The reminder takes your voice, as does the reserved look in his eyes. He’s testing the water, trying to see where you both stand at the moment. You nod, allowing him access to touch you, lost in his grim expression.

Gently, ever so gently, his fingers brush over your shoulders, sneaking under the thin garment. You battle a shiver as he lifts the back of his hands, knocking the fabric off with his knuckles. You roll back your shoulders, helping him make the cover cascade onto the sand below.

Chanyeol’s bright eyes wander over your flesh. He grunts in satisfaction at the sight of the marks he’s made, pride coloring his features. And you’re transfixed, gulping back saliva flooding your mouth like high tide. Your breathing grows erratic, fingers itching to touch him in return. Apparently that tension hasn’t fully gone away. Looks like you’ll be attracted to him for life.

You want to say something, want to voice an excuse to get your hands on him, but a sharp whistle cuts through the air before you can speak, breaking the spell Chanyeol has you falling under. You blink away your thirst, remembering where you are, of the audience you have.

“Looks like you got into some fun last night!” Jongdae, the culprit of the whistle, points out in a yell.

You’re now hyper aware of all your friends. Baekhyun, who you’re just now noticing, sits in the shallow part of the water where the waves roughly push him, dressed identically to Chanyeol. He’s looking in your general direction, squinting against the sun to see what all the commotion is about. Seulgi stands beside Jongdae. She’s in the middle of applying sunscreen, one of her legs lifted like a flamingo. She doesn’t have to say anything for you to hear her ‘oh shit’, wobbling as she balances on that one leg. Sehun is still staring right next to you, but the whistle was able to jolt him back from stone. Then there is Jongin, who jogs back to where everyone is congregated to curiously see what is going on.

Being the only one moving, your head spins over to him, seeing how his mouth slacks and his eyes widen in shock.

“What happened?” He asks, concerned.

Embarrassed, you snatch the shirt out of Chanyeol’s grip, rushing to put it on so that everyone will stop staring at you like you just told them you murdered someone.

“Mind your business,” you snap. You regret it instantly when Jongin’s face falls like a kicked puppy. It can’t be helped, you have a tendency to lash out when embarrassed.

“Dae! The meat!””

Gratefully, a hard gust of wind blows in, lifting the aluminum foil with the cooking meat off the grill, falling onto the sand.

That distracts everyone from you. You thank a higher power.

Jongdae stares forlornly at the meat, watching sand coat it like seasoning.

“What are you doing!” Baekhyun yelps, rushing to his feet. “Pick it up!”

That pulls Jongdae out of whatever trance he was in and he lurches forward, grabbing the hot foil and tossing it onto the end of the table. He hisses and shakes his hands, sticking a reddening thumb into his mouth.

Baekhyun rushes over to the table for quality control and his shoulders slump at the damage.

“This batch is no good.”

“Way to go, Jongdae,” Chanyeol chides. He then peeks over to you, surreptitiously checking your reaction.

“Shut it!” Jongdae snaps back.

Seeing a good opportunity to escape, you go to make your way over to Seulgi. Chanyeol is not having that, and you only get one step in before he’s snatching your wrist, holding you in place in front of him.

“Don’t go,” he begs under his breath.

You refuse to look up at him, knowing that whatever expression he currently wears will kill what little resolve you have. You know you need to discuss what happened the night before, and why he woke up alone this morning, but you hate confrontation and don't want to have this conversation right at this moment. To be honest, you just want to relax for a bit. Is that so wrong?

You remain silent, not really sure what to say to get him off your back for the time being.

“Just talk to me,” he urges. “You were gone when I woke up, and….”

He falls silent, and you can’t resist the temptation any longer. You break and lift your chin, sucking in a breath at what greets you. It’s that same tortured expression from yesterday. Nerves, apprehension, and defeat swim in his opaque orbs, purple his lips. And you know you can no longer prolong with conversation. He’s hurting. You’re hurting him, and it’s not fair to keep tormenting him like this.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks dejectedly, intently searching you for the answer.

You open your mouth to answer him. To tell him no, he did nothing wrong, but then Seulgi is calling your name and running up to you. She grabs the arm Chanyeol isn’t holding. “Let’s get in the water. It’s hot.”

She completely ignores Chanyeol as she heads for the shore, dragging you with her.

“I’m sorry,” is all you’re able to get out before you’re pulled completely from his gentle touch. He releases your wrist without a fight, letting you retreat glumly.

“I’m going to have to talk to him eventually,” you tell Seulgi, rolling your eyes. You hit the water and hiss from the shock of the freezing temperature.

“You two don’t get much talking done when you’re together,” she answers, breathless from the cold of the water.

Ignoring–and also maybe even embracing–the pain from the waves chilling your warm skin, you both run until you’re thigh deep and then dive right in, swimming deeper into the abyss.

You float on your back and try to focus on the paradise you’re in, instead of the devastated look in Chanyeol’s eyes. To no avail.

There’s some crashing noises that pull you upright to see Baekhyun running in to join Seulgi and you.

When he’s close, he jumps onto Seulgi, pulling her under water. Not one to miss an opportunity, you hop onto his back. The three of you break the surface, sputtering for air.

You stay secured around Baekhyun as you all catch your breaths.

“What the hell,” Seulgi coughs, splashing him in the face. He laughs, but chokes on the sea salt, and you squeal when you’re caught in her attack.

Letting go of Baekhyun, you swim back around so that Seulgi and you are turned towards the shore with him facing you both.

“Is he still sulking?” He asks.

You dare a glance over to where Chanyeol is, refusing to acknowledge how quickly you’re able to seek him out. He’s in the chair you had claimed, watching the water with a sullen pout as he rests his chin in his hand.

“Oh yeah,” Seulgi answers. “The clouds around him are turning gray, he’s in such a mood.”

“He wouldn’t be like that if you’d stop avoiding him, you know?”

“I’m not avoiding him,” you say. “We just spoke.”

Baekhyun snorts. “Yeah and I can tell you’re both on the same page. Nice talk.”

He throws you a sarcastic thumbs up, you stick your tongue out at him.

He grows solemn. “Please, say something to him. The poor man is beating himself up right now.”

You sink further into the water, dipping in until your mouth is submerged, and run a hand over the tiny waves bobbing you.

Beside you, Seulgi sighs. “I may have ruined their talk.”

Baekhyun throws his head back and groans. “You’re killing me, Smalls.”

“How was I supposed to know?” She asks. “It looked like they were about to ditch us and fuck again. I’m just trying to help her not make another decision she’s going to instantly regret.”

“Whatever happens between them is their business, Seulgi,” Baekhyun says, sounding uncharacteristically reasonable. “You have to let them work through it their way.”

You wave your hand above your head like a needy sim. “I’m right here, you know?”

Seulgi pouts like a chastised child. “You’re right.”

Both Baekhyun and you spin your heads towards her in surprise.

“Did you just say I’m right?” Baekhyun asks. His shock quickly morphs into cockiness, if the grin splitting his face is any indicator.

She’s now the one to groan. “I will not be repeating myself.”

“I’ll cherish the moment for the rest of my life.” Baekhyun turns to you and his smile softens. “Talk to him soon. He’s getting annoying.”

“I will. I promise.” You assure. “Thank you, Hyunnie, for doing this. I know it isn’t easy for you either, being in the middle like this. I appreciate it.”

He shrugs. “You’re both my friends. I want to see you happy. I just hope you can work it out.”

Jongin and Jongdae come barrelling towards your group. As soon as you see your sweet friend, you can’t help but hold your arms out for him.

“Nini!” You cry. He laughs and falls into your embrace, tackling you back into the depths of the sea. When you both emerge, you apologize for yelling at him.

“You’re forgiven,” he says, never taking anything to heart. “But I was surprised. I didn’t expect to see all your bruises. It looks like you got beat up.”

You whine his name. “You’re making it worse.”

“Hey, they do say that weddings are the best place to pick up chicks,” Jongdae says. “Well, I guess dudes for you. Unless….”

He gives you a wicked smirk and you splash him.

“Anyway, good on you for getting some. You deserve it.”

“Thanks, Jongdae,” you say dryly, rolling your eyes. “Also, my bad on the shirt. I forgot I was wearing it before I got in here.”

He takes notice of his button down floating around you and gasps dramatically. “You better wash it before you give it back. It was expensive.”

You look at him skeptically. “This tourist shirt?”

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to have those two cook the meat?” Baekhyun asks, putting your incoming argument with Jongdae to a halt. All five of you turn to the last people still on dry land. The tall boys stand over the grill, Chanyeol with the tongs in his hand. His eyebrows are scrunched as he listens to Sehun adamantly speaking, nodding and answering occasionally. it’s a deep conversation you don’t want any part of.

Jongdae shrugs. “I need a break. It’s hot.”

You all play in the water for some time. Once hunger becomes too great to ignore, you swim back to the beach. Immediately, you crack open a cold beer, nearly moaning when it hits your belly. Now this is what you need. You’ve been sober far too long.

Jongdae wasn’t lying about the heat. Even under the canopy, you can’t escape the sun’s harsh rays. You succumb to the weather and peel off Jongdae’s now dry shirt, not caring anymore if the other’s see your marks, it’s already old news.

Slowly, you all make your way to the table. it’s out in the open and everyone is a bit hesitant to sit out there, but that’s where the food resides. Both Baekhyun and Chanyeol take off their shirts, overwhelmed by the temperature.

“Holy shit, Yeol,” you hear Jongdae say. “What happened to you?”

Everyone glances over to the tall man and your heart sinks at the sight of his exposed back. It’s hard to miss the rows of scratches you carved down his shoulder blades, red and angry.

At the mention of his name, Chanyeol turns around, revealing his neck, shoulders, and chest that look exactly like yours. Actually, his marks are deeper, darker. You were really letting him have it. In your defense, he did encourage you to do your worst, so it is hard for you to find any sympathy to send to the giant.

A loaded silence fills the area as he locks eyes with you. You sigh. That’s enough of an answer for everyone.

Giving up, you chug your beer empty as the extra heat of everyone’s attention bounces back and forth between you both, connecting the purple and blue dots.

“No way….” Jongin’s fingers trace the trail of his eyes. “Did you two…?”

You close your eyes in dismay. You’re going to hear it now.

“Wait a damn minute!” Jongdae’s loud ass voice echoes over the speaker. “You mean to tell me Chanyeol was the one who left those hickeys on you!?”

He gives you an impressed grin. “You naughty girl.”

You simply sink lower into your chair.

“Are you guys together now?” Jongin asks, bouncing on his toes in giddy excitement.

“I mean….” Chanyeol searches you out in hopes you’ll answer that question for him as well.

The attention has you awkwardly laughing, readjusting yourself so that you’re sitting properly again.

“Please, you guys,” you say, laughter coating every consonant. “It’s nothing.”

Chanyeol’s head tilts at that, eyes fluttering in confusion. “What do you mean ‘nothing’?”

Your heart sinks as you realize you’ve made matters much worse. Chanyeol’s getting worked up now, and the last thing you want is to fight in front of everybody.

“I just mean it’s not a big deal.”

If your first sentence was you putting your foot in your mouth, this one is the whole damn leg.

“Not a big deal?” He repeats skeptically. He turns so that he’s properly looking at you, making sure he’s understanding correctly. “You think us having sex is ‘not a big deal’?”

“Okay,” Jongdae drawls. “Not together then.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you begin to explain, really wishing this conversation wasn’t happening like this. “It was a big deal to me, okay? But they shouldn’t expect more because of it.”

“Like us getting back together?” He continues to question in a monotonous tone. “You’re saying that they shouldn’t get their hopes up about us getting back together just because we had sex.”

“Exactly!” You clap, glad he understands.

“So that wasn’t us getting back together?”

His disappointment is hard to disguise, and it makes you feel bad. Again you’re reminded that if you’d just talked before this wouldn’t be happening. You sigh and prepare yourself to explain where you’re coming from.

“Chanyeol–”

“Meat’s getting cold,” Sehun interrupts, ending the real conversation before it can start. You’re grateful for it, still not mentally prepared to break Chanyeol’s heart any further, although it seems you may be past that point. Chanyeol’s jaw is tense, honestly everything about him is tense as he nods his head like he finally understands something before stomping over to the table, sitting at the end furthest from the canopy. He grabs a beer, cracking it open and guzzling it down rather aggressively.

Everyone else reluctantly takes Chanyeol’s lead. When Baekhyun passes you, he grimaces, politely letting you know that you messed up. Sehun is the last to walk past. He stops and reaches a hand out for you to grab. You sigh before taking it, allowing him to pull you up.

“The last thing I want right now is a lecture,” you tell him.

“I’m just checking on you,” he assures. “You good?”

You stare at him. ‘Do I look like I’m good’ written all over your face and he grins, gaining the reaction he wanted. It’s gone as quick as it comes, an air of seriousness taking over.

“I thought we talked about this.” He starts.

You point a finger at him. “Lecture.”

He purses his lips and lets his attention wander to the table. Everyone is trying their best to lighten the mood. You look also and are surprised to see Seulgi attempt to make small talk with Chanyeol, although he doesn’t appear that interested in the conversation.

“Okay, no lecture, but let me say one thing.” You groan. “Don’t leave this island with unfinished business. That’s only going to hurt you both more.”

You’re still taking in the table as he speaks, and Chanyeol must feel it because he’s looking back at you. He holds your stare for a few seconds, then catches himself and breaks the contact. It’s selfish, but you’re comforted by the familiar longing still lingering there.

You nod at Sehun’s words, turning back to him. “Yeah. Got it.”

He doesn’t believe you and his expression says as much.

“Hey! Hurry up and grab a plate!” Jongin orders you both.

Sehun pats your arm and heads over to the table, you follow a few steps behind. The food is delicious and the alcohol starts flowing. Soon the sun starts its slow descent, and with full bellies, you all relax more. At this moment, you can’t help but to miss Junmyeon. He’s always the one taking pictures, annoying everyone by forcing you all to pose for what feels like hundreds of photos. Sehun, his successor, makes sure to take as many candids and selfies as he can. You find it easy to smile whenever the camera is focused on you, even when Chanyeol is also in the frame.

Speaking of Chanyeol, the beer, good food, and friendship seems to be working in lifting his spirits. His loud voice carries throughout the beach, and you catch his boisterous laugh from time to time. You’re relieved to know that you haven’t completely ruined this trip for him.

By this point, the sky is a lovely pink and orange, and you’re a bit tipsy. You close your eyes and sway to the beat of whatever song is playing, snapping along. Someone holds your hand, causing your eyes to spring open to see Jongin gently urging you out of your seat. You allow him to drag you into a clear patch of sand near the waves. You start dancing with him, connected hands swinging between you both as you reluctantly laugh. Jongin is your designated dance partner. He’s one of the better dancers of your group, and you’re shy. He got into the habit of getting you out onto the dancefloor to loosen you up in college. Now is no different. You both roll your bodies and sway your hips to the beat, encouraging each other. The longer you dance, the closer you get, until your forehead rests on his collarbone, arms wrap around each other’s waists, and Jongin’s cheek presses atop your head.

“Are you okay?” He softly asks.

His question causes your vision to blur. You stare unseeingly into the now gray sea, waves crashing urgently and tighten your hold around his torso.

“I don’t think so,” you confess.

“I don’t understand,” he says, sounding both confused and frustrated. “You both love each other, right? Why fight?”

“It’s not that simple, Nini. I wish it was, but….” You shake your head, not really knowing how to finish the sentence.

“Is it because of her?” He presses.

You close your eyes at the reminder of Yerim, another person your actions will hurt, and she’s yet to find out of your betrayal.

“Partially,” you admit.

Jongin rubs your back. “It'll work out. As long as you know what you want.”

You wipe your face and pull back to smile up at him, clipping his chin affectionately.

“Now that we’ve had that talk,” you say. “Let’s dance! We’re on vacation! I need to feel like it!”

He chuckles and spins you around so that your back is pressed against his torso.

“Turn the music up!” He orders. Whoever is in charge of the tunes obliges and you’re pleased when a song you can grind to comes on. You throw your arms up into the air and instantly lose yourself to the music, dancing back on Jongin who matches your moves easily.

Not really paying attention to your surroundings, you fail to notice someone joining your little party, but they make themselves known by gripping your arms, ripping you out of Jongin’s hold.

“What the–”

For the second time today, Chanyeol has pulled you away from someone. His hands are wrapped so tightly around your forearms, you wince from the pain. He doesn’t catch your discomfort, too busy giving Jongin the fiercest stare you’ve ever seen.

“Get the fuck off of her!” He snarls, dragging you even closer to him so that your face is pressed against his naked heaving chest.

You lean back and attempt to stare him down, but all you see is his sharp jaw.

“We’re just dancing,” you explain defensively.

That makes him look down at you, and you nearly gulp from the fury reflecting in his black orbs.

“That’s not how you ‘just dance’ with someone!”

That’s when you notice the way his words slightly blend together, notice how unsteady he is on his feet.

“You’re drunk,” you point out disappointedly. Remembering how good that did you both the last time he was under the influence.

He chuckles darkly at that. “So are you.”

Ugh, you aren’t anywhere near as faded as he currently is. You attempt to free yourself from him, but he’s holding onto you too tightly to break. There is no escape.

“Chanyeol, Bro, I swear that’s all we were doing,” Jongin calmly reassures.

“Don’t call me ‘bro’,” Chanyeol hisses. “You’ve always been like this, Jongin. You were always touching her! Don’t think I never noticed.”

“She’s my friend,” he says slowly, carefully, as if he’s speaking to a child.

“And she was my fiance!” Chanyeol all but roars. “But that never stopped you!”

You glance around. His outburst draws everyone’s attention and they watch the three of you curiously. Baekhyun and Sehun start to get up from their seats, probably intending to de-escalate the situation, but you don’t want to get anybody else involved. This is between Chanyeol and you. What is happening now is the consequence of you stalling the ‘what are we’ conversation you should’ve had the night before.

“Leave him alone, Yeol,” you mutter. “He’s not the one you’re mad at. It’s me.”

He doesn’t even spare you a glance, too focused on the man behind you. “Why won’t he answer me then? I’m right, aren’t I?”

“I promise I–”

Before Jongin can finish defending himself, you cut him off by putting your hands on Chanyeol’s chest, throwing your weight to shove him. In any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have budged, but his inebriation works in your favor, making him stumble a few steps. Unfortunately, he takes you with him, and you fall forward. He lets go of your arms to catch you by the waist, steadying you both.

“You okay?” He asks with worry.

“Yeah,” you huff. You pat his shoulder. “Why don’t we go for a walk?”

There’s a boardwalk a few meters away that looks deserted, that is probably the best place to have this discussion. Not waiting for an answer, you easily break his hold and start walking towards it. Chanyeol says something to Jongin you can’t catch over the sound of the sea, but it sounds smug enough that you sigh deeply in dismay. You’ll apologize to Jongin tomorrow, you promise to yourself.

When you pass the table, you lock eyes with both Baekhyun and Sehun.

“It’s okay,” you assure them, not even sure if you believe it. It’s enough for them, they stand down and nod, trusting you.

The journey is silent. The sun has disappeared completely by the time you’re on the worn wood, enveloping you in an almost foreboding darkness. The crashing of waves are intense beneath you, doing nothing to soothe your nerves. When you reach the end of the walk, you turn around to the man you know was following you the whole time.

He’s on you before you can even speak. His mouth moves roughly against yours, urgent and desperate. His frustration is felt, as is his still present affection. You fall easily into his kiss, giving into him as naturally as you always have. Your hands curl around his neck, pulling him closer. He cups your face, the palms of his hands squishing your cheeks, puckering your lips more for him to devour. He walks you backwards, until your bare back hits the splintered wood of the banister. it digs into your skin, making you whimper, but it’s not enough pain to distract you from the punishing pressure of Chanyeol’s lips.

The groan he lets out in response is tortured, long fingers desperately begin pulling at the band of your swimsuit bottoms, eager to feel all of you again.

In sync, your mouths fall open, tongues colliding and lewdly twirling together. God. Fuck. You want him. You want him so bad it’s driving you crazy. You’re going to fuck him again. You’re going to fuck him right here on this damn boardwalk, space be damned–

But, that’s exactly the problem, isn’t it?

“Stop,” you gasp between kisses.

He hums before tilting his head to kiss you even deeper. Those wandering hands of his slide down to squeeze your ass. You shutter and press yourself more against him, slipping your arms fully around his neck to drag him lower so that he’s curved over you. A sheen of sweat the only thing between your boiling bodies.

Still, you can’t bring yourself to fall back completely into the make out session. Disappointment floods you. Seulgi is right, the two of you can’t be alone for even a second without falling into this toxic habit.

Now annoyed with how weak you are, you finally muster the strength to shove Chanyeol back, officially breaking the kiss.

With much needed space between you, you feel the fog of lust begin to clear and can think better. Chanyeol doesn’t say anything or make a move to resume what you interrupted. No. He just stands there, watching you with an expression you find hard to read as you both attempt to catch your heaving breaths.

“What?” He finally asks, voice hoarse and deeper than hell. “You don’t want me anymore, Mel?”

There’s no sorrow, none of the longing or anger he’s shown throughout the day, which is surprising. It’s almost as if he knew this was how the night was going to go. Like he knew you were going to push him away.

“That….” You swallow thickly. “That’s not it.”

“Then what’s the problem?” He asks, taking a step towards you. You try to counter it, but that leads to more wood stabbing you. You’re sure some break the skin. He takes another step and now he’s directly in front of you, a mere breath away. He lowers his head to be more level with yours, giving you a close up view of his wound up fury.

“The problem,” you nearly stutter, overwhelmed by the hostility now coming off of him in waves. He’s never directed his anger towards you–the situation maybe, but never you–it’s intimidating and scary. You lick your dry lips, trying to find your voice, and he watches detachedly. “My problem is the opposite, Chanyeol. I still very much do.”

“That doesn’t seem like a problem to me.”

“Look at us!” You say. “We can’t be alone for five seconds without being all over each other! Last night was not supposed to happen the way it did! We weren’t supposed to sleep together!”

“But we did,” he snarls through clenched teeth. “And that means something, whether you want it to or not!”

“All that it means to me is we need space. This is too much for me, Yeol. We need time apart to figure out what the hell we actually want.”

“What is too much for you?” He asks, sounding exasperated. “The way I feel about you? The way you still feel about me? What is there to figure out? We still want each other, nothing else matters!”

“We still want each other physically!” You clarify. “I can agree with that, but the longer we’re together, the more I think that’s all we want!”

“Of course not!” He finally yells. You flinch from the volume and that makes him catch himself. He huffs out a breath before repeating in a much gentler tone, “of course not.”

He grabs one of your hands, thumb caressing your knuckles. “You are way more than that. You always have been. This is more than physical to me.”

Everything inside of you is screaming to believe him, and he himself is asking for that. For you to have faith in this, and to give it a chance.

“Then why didn’t you say it back?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he stares at the forming tears in your eyes and the slight wobble of your lips in confusion. He searches for the context to your question. It takes a minute, but then his eyes widen in realization and his mouth falls open, a slight ‘oh’ leaving before he’s snapping it back shut. The look he gives you after that is something akin to pity.

And there is your answer. You pull your hand out of his grasp, using it to wipe away the tears that slipped past your waterline. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

He scrambles in alarm from your withdrawal. “Can you please stop saying shit like that?”

“Why?” You snap. Your irritation grows with every second he doesn’t give you the answer you desire. “It doesn’t. I didn’t mean it anyways. It just slipped out, so…yeah.”

You fidget nervously and try to make out the waves crashing against the wood underneath you. You’re so focused on that, you miss the way Chanyeol recoils in shock. You also miss the reigniting flames of his dimming anger.

“So when you told me you loved me, you didn’t mean it. Yet, you’re mad at me for not saying it?”

Him saying it out loud makes you cringe in embarrassment. As if he hasn’t done enough, you sense mockery in his tone. When you meet his eye again, the anger is still there, but it’s mostly frustration you notice.

“I’m not mad that you didn’t say it,” you deny.

“Yes you are!” He lets out a humorless laugh. Yeah, he’s definitely frustrated. “Is that what all this is about? Why you left this morning? Look, I’m sorry! It wasn’t because I didn’t feel the same, I was just…preoccupied.”

“Preoccupied with what?” You ask in disbelief.

He gives you a steady look, eyebrows raised in a way to say, ‘you know what’. It takes a minute for you to decipher what he’s alluding to, but then you remember what happened right after your little confession and groan his name, appalled.

“See?” He’s grinning like a madman now, pulling at your arms in an attempt to catch your attention. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear. And once I did, I couldn’t control myself anymore. You telling me you love me made me cum.”

“Be serious right now,” you say, frowning in disgust.

“Oh, I’m very serious right now,” he says, that gleefully large grin still on his face.

You throw him a skeptical look. “You’re smiling and talking about cum. You think this is a joke.”

That makes his smile slowly disappear. He says your name. “I don’t think this is funny. I’m telling you the truth. You want me to prove it to you? Hm? I’ll say it right now. I lo–”

“I don’t want to hear it now!” You interrupt in a shout. “If you had said it then, things might’ve been different, but you didn’t. I don’t care why you didn’t either. That was all the confirmation I needed. We have no idea what we want from this.”

“Here we go again,” he groans, walking a bit away from you.

You jut your jaw at that. “I’m going to repeat myself until you get it through that thick skull. Whatever happened, happened. It’s done. We’re done.”

Chanyeol’s frustration is back with a vengeance. His fingers run through his dark hair, yanking at the strands as he starts pacing in front of you. “How can you say that when you had your tongue down my throat minutes ago? You let me cum inside you! You told me you loved me! And that’s it? There’s mixed signals and then there’s whatever the fuck you’re doing right now.”

“There you go talking about cum again,” you mutter to yourself. Louder, “I’m being realistic! It’s only been three days. Three! And, what? We’re just supposed to pick up right where we left off? Act like the past few years never happened? That’s not how this works, and I doubt that’s healthy. We need more time.”

“I already told you that I’ll always love you, and I meant that. I know you’re scared, Mel. Hell, I’m scared too. You’re right, things are moving fast, but that’s because we still care for each other. I know you still love me. You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t. This wouldn’t be us pretending we never broke up. This can be us realizing that we’re better together. That we’re even stronger now that we’ve had time to figure out who we are apart. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“It was,” you’re quick to emphasize the past tense. “But I’ve changed a lot since the last time you saw me, Yeol, so stop acting like you know me.”

Something you say catches his attention, and he narrows his eyes suspiciously. “You haven’t changed much.” He says your name. “I still know you, probably better than anybody else here. Just like you still know me.”

He’s stilled from pacing, and it’s a bit ominous after watching him frantically walk for the past couple minutes. He runs a hand over his face tiredly and lets out a heavy sigh. “So, that’s really what this is about.”

You raise an eyebrow questioningly and he laughs, shaking his head.

“I was hoping it wasn’t, but what you just said…. It all makes sense now.” He’s muttering under his breath, talking to himself.

“What are you going on about?” You ask.

“This morning, when I woke up and you weren’t there, I knew. I didn’t want to believe it, that you would do something like that, but I knew what happened the moment I realized you had left me.”

Your body begins to shake, and it isn’t from the cold. Foreboding chills your spine, causing goosebumps to rise, sharpening once he locks eyes with you, the accusations hard to miss.

“You still hate me.”

His hands curl into tight fists at his sides, trembling–as are his shoulders, his voice. He closes his eyes, taking deep calming breaths you doubt help him much.

“And now you’re telling me you didn’t mean it when you said you loved me. That you changed since the ‘last time I saw you’. Was that your plan all along? To seduce me? Make me think you still gave a shit so that I’d let you fuck me and then leave? Was last night revenge sex?”

“No,” you gasp, genuinely shocked by his conclusion. “I already told you, it was a lapse of judgment–”

“I’m not playing this fucking game with you!” He shouts. His voice breaks, just like his heart currently does. “You don’t get to hurt me again. You can’t play with my feelings everytime I allow myself to be open with you. Maybe you’re right, Mel. Maybe I don’t know you anymore, because I never thought you could do something this fucking cruel.”

“Me? Cruel?” Your anger flares up. “What the fuck about you? You come here, bring some other girl you care nothing for, and then pretend like we never knew each other! Then proceeded to ignore her the whole time to flirt with me any chance you got!”

“We’re not talking about this trip!” Chanyeol dismisses. “I should have never brought her, I know that now, but that’s not what this is about. This is about the time before that, when you gave me back the engagement ring!”

Sehun mentioned the night before the wedding that you have a baseless grudge against Chanyeol, one that twisted the love you have for him, crossing that thin line over to hate. He was positive you made something up, a ‘lie’ he called it, to keep Chanyeol at arm’s length from your heart in order to protect it. The truth is that Sehun grew cocky. He believed so deeply that you couldn’t keep anything from him, that it was impossible to with the way he can so easily read you, that he never suspected when you did. It was only one thing. One thing you decided to keep to yourself, refusing to confide in even Sehun. The reason? To protect the man in front of you, the same way he protected you.

The last thing you want is to bring it up, but technically, Chanyeol is doing it first.

“Gave it back?” You’re in total disbelief. “You took it back the morning after you slept with me and then completely ghosted like I was some one night stand!”

“That’s what you wanted!”

“When?” You ask, baffled. “When I invited you over? Or was it in the middle of us having sex?”

He runs a hand roughly through his hair. “Okay, but why did you invite me over?”

“Because I–”

He doesn’t let you finish, his own anger from that day getting the best of him. “Because you wanted to give me the ring back!”

His voice has risen, and it silences you completely.

“Fuck!” He’s saying your name again, but there isn’t an ounce of affection. “You wanted to return the ring. It was the one thing–the only thing that gave me hope. I told you to keep it, because I knew as long as you still had it, there was still a future for us. But then you called me. It hadn’t even been a year since our separation–because that’s what we were, separated not broken up–and the first time I hear from you it’s to tell me you want to give me back your fucking ring!”

Your head is spinning, attempting to comprehend everything he just admitted, filling in blanks you have been trying to figure out for years now. You hate to admit it, but some things are starting to make sense.

“So, which was it then?” You question rather calmly. “You were still hurt from when I broke things off, so when I reached out you saw your chance to return the favor? Or was it because you thought that’s why I asked you to come over, so you got upset, slept with me, and left as a big fuck you?”

“Neither,” he reveals, evident disgust from your thought process. “Sleeping with you that night just happened. I didn’t do it with the intention to hurt you.”

“Sounds familiar,” you point out. He pinches the bridge of his nose. It feels like you’re going nowhere. Like you’re speaking in circles. “But okay, fine, say I believe that you didn’t do it to hurt me. Why did you leave?”

“Because I didn’t want what happened that night to become our normal,” he admits. “You knew how I felt about you, and I didn’t want you to take advantage of that–of me. Come on, Mel, you’ve always known the power you have over me. If you had told me that night that all you wanted from me was sex, I’d given that to you. Hell, if you told me right now that’s all you want, I’d give it to you. I’d give you anything. You’re my Melody.” He takes a deep shaky breath. “But I knew that if I reduced myself to that just to keep you, it would destroy me. I didn’t want to lose myself like that. And I don’t ever want to hate you. That’s why I ultimately left. Took the ring–like you told me to–and ran before you could change my mind. That was me setting a boundary for myself. I had to let you go before I allowed you to use and break me.”

Your heart sinks at his explanation. “Do you really think I’d treat you like that?”

“Do you really think I’d make love to you and not mean it?” He counters.

Again, you’re back at square one. Blinking at one another, trying to figure out where you stand in each other’s hearts. With the newfound knowledge of Chanyeol’s thoughts on that infamous day, you look internally. To be honest, his words don’t sway you much. The hurt from that day is still painful. You vividly remember the way your heart shattered when he was nowhere to be found. To add salt to the wound, he had blocked you on everything, so that you had no way to contact him afterwards. Yes, you really did believe he was capable of doing that.

“No matter what your intention was that day,” you start. “The result is still the same.”

Once Chanyeol hears this, you watch him build up a wall, closing you off from him for the first time. Until right now, you believed he wasn’t capable of doing that to you. That it couldn’t be helped or that he felt comfortable enough to let his guard down in your presence. But watching all the vulnerability, all the honesty, all the affection he had for you vanish before your eyes, you realize you have been giving yourself too much credit.

“I guess that makes us even now, right?” He asks bitterly.

You turn away, partially out of guilt, but also because you can’t stomach the haunted shadow dulling him. He’s right, in a sick way. You both ran away, hurting the other despite the reasoning behind it.

“So, that’s it then?” He asks when you fail to say anything.

“Chanyeol….” You turn back to him and instantly are bombarded with regret. You can so easily fix this. If you really want to, you can tell him that you forgive him for that night, that you truly never meant to hurt him and that the night before meant everything to you. You can walk off this boardwalk hand in hand, laughing with giddiness from falling back in love with your soulmate. Rejoining your friends who would be nothing but ecstatic and supportive of you working through your issues and returning to one another. You can do that. It will only take one simple sentence.

But you don’t forgive him, and you haven’t really resolved anything. Your new relationship would be built on the foundation of ignorance, avoidance, and lust. You didn’t want that, not if it is the cost of having him back at this moment. You both have some healing to do before jumping into this again, and this conversation proved that. You aren’t ready.

“I–yeah. I think it would be for the best if we end things here.”

“Yeah,” he agrees in defeat. He sniffs and scratches the back of his head. “You’re probably right. There’s not much else I can say to make you stay.”

He takes you in one more time. In his reluctance, it’s as if he’s giving you a chance to change your answer, but you both know you won’t. Guess he does still know you well. He clears his throat and without saying goodbye, walks away.

He’s about to clear the walk when you’re yelling at him to wait.

He does. He faces you and watches with wide eyes as you run hastily over to him. You stop at a safe distance, close enough to see him under the dim moonlight, but far enough away that you can’t feel the distracting heat of his body.

He observes you warily, probably wondering how you’re going to break his heart this time. It’s that bit of doubt that made you run. There’s one last thing he needs to know, the one thing he needs to take away from this conversation, if nothing else.

“I don’t hate you.”

It’s the last thing he expected, and his reaction reflects that. His eyes grow glossy and he does his best to blink the unshed tears back, while also fighting the frown weighing the corners of his lips, causing them to tremble. Wordlessly, he reaches out to you, cupping the back of your head, and you let him. You allow him to touch you, to bring you close to him, relishing in his heat against the chilling bite of the ocean’s breeze. He pulls you in and presses a tender lingering kiss onto your forehead.

“Thank you,” he whispers against your skin.

And then he’s gone, taking all the warmth with him.

And you watch, as his fire dims and he blends with the gray of your surroundings before disappearing out of sight.

You pray to god that’s not a metaphor.

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queerholmcs · 11 months

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okay. you know the drill. i do need to elaborate on some of these, moreso than is allowed within the character limit of the polls; see the read more at the bottom of the post. yes it gets a bit long, i'm sorry, i'm not normal about this show, we've established this.

stop making me watch this. this is indecent. this is not suitable for public television. please get a room.

they all know sherlock and they know that he's insane. where they go wrong is in assuming that john must then be the sane one of the pair of them. (save mycroft; see number five.)

'here, use mine' as the obvious opener. but then we also get the bit where john returns to baker street and sherlock's like 'oh haha yeah i called you across town to ask you to send a text' and john gives him the most exasperated, reluctant look before giving sherlock his phone (heart). because at this point, there is no other option. (i won't say more. essays have already been written on the matter.)

the way a point is made to demonstrate sherlock's deliberate ignorance of molly's attempts at flirting. and john's painfully awkward attempts to hit on mycroft's PA. contrasted with their every moment on screen together. 'we can't giggle, it's a crime scene!' SHUT UP.

where do i start with this one. (mycroft is my favourite. i'm not sorry.) he puts so much effort into this stupid little trick and john completely holds his own against him. he's also the only one to see that john is also not sane and that as much as sherlock is going to be some sort of influence on john, john is going to do the same to sherlock. 'might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?' → 'i can see from your left hand that's not going to happen' → 'time to choose a side.' hello??????? thank goodness mark gatiss mycroft holmes is here to spell things out for us.

it all starts when john says 'i looked you up on the internet last night' (weird move, it has to be said) and then doesn't immediately praise sherlock's blog. but then he also doesn't tell sherlock to piss off for deducing him and airing his family secrets like that? and from that point on, every remotely clever thing sherlock says, he looks to john for his response. ('do you know you do that out loud?' 'sorry, i'll shut up.' 'no, it's... fine.') i maintain that he only points out anderson and donovan's little affair to show off for john.

look. do i even have to say anything here. we establish that everyone sherlock interacts with thinks he's gay. we establish that john and sherlock are both unattached and that girlfriends definitely aren't sherlock's area and that it's fine to have a boyfriend, by the way, john thinks this is fine, just if you wondered, he's also unattached and it's fine if girls aren't your cup of tea and have we mentioned they're both unattached? and they have what is about the most intimate eye contact ever for far too long while doing so.

chance or chess? play the game. engage with the story. read between the lines. is it a bluff? or a double bluff? or a triple bluff? play the game. (mention the game one more time. i dare you. shut up.)

this is in both the physical and the metaphorical sense. they have no concept of personal space, either of them, and it is a bit awkward for everyone else in the room who's forced to watch them make bedroom eyes at each other. on the metaphorical side—john is the first to say 'actually, it's not obvious, so get on with it and share your thoughts with the class, would you?' and '...bit not good, yeah. maybe be slightly more sensitive to people's emotions, there.' and 'you're so full of it. you absolutely do guess, admit it, i can tell when you're lying.' lestrade watches them interact for all of ten minutes and then declares that, though he's known sherlock for five years, he still doesn't know sherlock nearly as well as john does.

who is he? well, he's with sherlock. it's sherlock holmes and doctor watson. they're a set. (do not separate!) they go together, they are defined by each other, they balance each other far too perfectly to ever be removed again. welcome to The Dynamic. you'll never know peace again. (or is that just me?)

#bbc sherlock #asip #sherlock #i know which one is going to win and i am SO tempted to not even offer it as an option. nevertheless.

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1whore1gang · 3 months

Text

Post MW3 Drabble:

Implied Soap x Reader, Platonic! TF141 x Reader, Potential Ghost x Reader if you squint. (made for f!reader)

SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVENT PLAYED THE GAME

enjoy :)

CW: causing,mentions of death, mental health, grief

It was hard for all of you when it happened. It was so quick, yet everything moved in slow motion as his body hit the ground.

The moment still haunts all of your dreams, replaying over and over in your minds.

It was the worst for you. It took weeks before you stopped crying as soon as you woke up. You’d gotten so used to rolling over and snuggling into Johnny every morning. He was your sunshine.

The first few nights were the worst, staring at the indent in the bed where he’d laid not even a week ago. You didn’t dare touch it, wanting to preserve him in a weird way.

You couldn’t even shower without breaking down. Johnny would always come sit on the sink and talk to you while you showered. It felt so empty without him.

Everything felt empty. Brushing your teeth without his arms wrapping around you. Making food and only making enough for you. Going to bree coffee and accidentally grabbing his mug with yours.

Nothing felt right, and you couldn’t bear it. Luckily you weren’t grieving alone. Simon was struggling just as bad as you were. Johnny was like a brother to him.

Many night the two of you sat in silence in the common area. No words are exchanged most of the time, you both just needed company.

The team all made sure to try to do little things for you. They bought you flowers, took you out for lunches. Price did whatever he could to attempt to keep you from spiraling. He even offered to let you give him a haircut, knowing you’d always make fun of him for how scruffy he was.

Gaz would make you sweets or help with chores around base. He would take you on walks or take you with on errands just so you wouldn’t be alone.

No matter what though, you still had this void in your life. You felt like a piece of you drifted away on that cliff with his ashes. It felt like you had watched your life dissipate into the wind.

He took a part of you with him, and you were afraid you’d never get it back.

You’d spend countless nights looking at old photos, reading old love notes he wrote you. You’d watch videos of him just to keep his voice fresh in your memory.

The only thing you were beginning to forget was his touch. The way his hands would ignite sparks at the slightest graze was slowly leaving you. The gentleness of his grasp was slipping away.

You missed him so bad, and it was beginning to become unbearable.

You were awake one night a couple of days after his death, lost in a rabbit hole of pictures and videos. It was nearly 3 AM, but you didn’t notice nor dare. A knock hit your door, and it creaked open to reveal Simon.

“Hey Johnny have you seen my-“ He looked up at you and realized his mistake. “I’m sorry Y/N…”

It took you a second to collect yourself but you smiled at him. “Hi Simon. Are you okay?” You watched as he began to slightly tear up. Simon wasn’t a cryer, but Soap’s death has broke him to his core.

“I miss him.” He said, his voice breaking your own heart. You looked down for a second, deciding if you were ready.

“Need a friend?” You said as you patted the side of the bed where Johnny used to sleep. Simon nodded but paused.

“Are you sure?” He said, cautious.

“Mhm. It feels too empty in here. It’s too quiet.” Simon nodded again as he removed his mask and sat next to you.

You both sat and reminisced on Johnny’s life. Sharing memories and laughs, you both began to feel better.

“I’m gonna try to get some rest. Just wake me if you need anything okay?” You began to lay down, feeling the bed shift as Simon rolled over with a ‘Goodnight.’

You felt the mattress dip and it’s like your body went into shock. That feeling was all to familiar and your brain was screaming at you to turn over and look for Johnny.

Sniffles began to sound out of you at the feeling and the memories it brought to your mind. Maybe you weren’t ready after all.

“Hey, are you okay?” You felt Simon place his hand on you gently.

“I don’t know.” You sobbed out, not strong enough to look at him.

“Do me a favor, roll over.” He helped you move onto your opposite side to face him. “Trust me?” You nodded and he pulled you into his chest as he held you, brushing his fingers through your hair and quietly shushing you. “I know how bad it hurts and I’m so sorry.”

From that night forward, Simon spent almost every night in your room, just so you both could actually get some sleep. The comfort of having someone there brought you both peace.

Weeks had gone by and you realized something was off with yourself. You woke up and looked at the day and panicked.

You were a week late.

You sneakily ran down to the store a block away and bought a pregnancy test, or two, or three.

Running back to your room unseen, you were quick to unwrap them and take them.

Minutes passed that felt like hours when your timer went off. You flipped each one over, looking at the results.

Positive

“Shit!” You yelled, your hands flying to your hair. As soon as the word left your mouth, you heard your door open and Simon enter. “Y/N?? You here? We missed you at training.”

You walked out of your bathroom, quickly shutting the door behind you and standing in front of it. “Are you okay? You look pale.” Simon walked up to you and placed his hands on your face to feel for a fever.

“Yeah I’m fine, I woke up late.”

“No, something’s wrong. Your eyes widened when something’s wrong and your pupils are dilated. Your breathing is elevated too.” How the fuck does he know that?!

“Just panicked about the fact I woke up late.” You shrugged it off, unmoving.

“What’s in the bathroom Y/N?” His voice drew serious. He wasn’t asking, he was telling you to move.

“Nasty stuff really, that time of the month ya know?” He didn’t believe you.

“Let me see. Nothing I haven’t seen before. In fact, I’ve seen worse.” What the fuck? “Please move.”

You swallowed HARD. “I don’t want you to see it though.”

“Y/N. Move. I know better than that. I’m not stupid. Let me see the bathroom.”

It took a lot of arguing before you stepped aside. Simon walked past you and his eyes laid on the tests. “You’re pregnant? This is what you were hiding?”

He turned to you. “Yeah…I don’t know how far along I am.” Simon nodded and chewed on his lip for a moment in thought.

“Johnny’s?”

Although it wasn’t a question, it was more of a statement, it hung heavy in the air. “Yeah, Johnny.”

Simon audibly swallowed as he continued to stare at the positive text on each one. He hasn’t moved hardly past the doorframe, hand still on the knob.

“I’ll help you.”

“Huh?” His words hadn’t registered in your mind yet.

“This is going to be okay. I’ll help you.” Simon turned to you and grabbed your hands, squeezing them. “You’re going to be okay.”

And you were. Simon helped you. You both went to appointments and began to buy things little by little. Simon even applied for housing so you didn’t have to do this in the barracks.

6 months in and it turned out everything was going to be okay.

#captain price x reader #modern warefare 2 x reader #simon ghost riley #soap mactavish smut #soap mactavish x reader #tf141 x reader #cod mw2 #johnny mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick

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hauntedsideofthemoon · 1 year

Text

BROKEN HEART OF GOLD - chapter 1; tired soul, dying hope

i began posting this fanfic on my ao3 account but i decided to share it here too since i read a lot on tumblr as well :]

this is my first ever fanfiction and english isn't my first language so i apologize for anything confusing, feel free to ask me about it anytime <3

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AO3 link

pairing: chishiya x gn!reader

format: gender-neutral original character/self-insert, they/them pronouns are used when necessary, no use of y/n or "___", feel free to picture the character however you wish!

tags: canon-typical violence, slow burn, ocs as side characters, mentions/depictions of mental health issues

word count: 3578

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'Come on, you two, walk faster!'

Walking ahead of them excitedly, I tried not to bump into other people passing by. I didn’t want to waste a single second of my vacation, it was my first time visiting Shibuya!

I felt a tug in my collar, followed by my friend’s voice in an annoyed tone: 'Can’t you wait for us? Shibuya is not going to just disappear!' I finally decided to slow down, removing my earphones and now walking between my friend Mizuki and her older brother Takeshi.

'Why did you even want to come here? It’s always so crowded, there are better places to visit in Tokyo.'

'I already visited some other places in Tokyo last week, and Shibuya was next on my bucket list.'

Takeshi sighed, 'I hope you have a good time here, at least. I wish I could go to a completely different country now. Oh, but I know of a good shopping mall near the station, we could go there first.'

While heading to said shopping mall, we all heard some fireworks in the distance. I turned my head around, only to be splashed by a wave of lemonade – a minor accident caused after Mizuki got jumpscared by the fireworks.

'Oh, my god! I’m so sorry!' She said while patting my clothes in a poor attempt to prevent them from staining. 'Don’t worry about this, really. At least it wasn’t a hot drink.' I reassured her.

'There are restrooms near the station,' Takeshi said, pointing to where we were coming from. I followed his directions, asking them to wait for me outside.

Inside the restroom, I removed my jacket and placed it beside the sink. I tried using paper towels to remove the excess liquid from my clothes, but I couldn’t get rid of the yellowish stain on the hem of my shirt and my jeans. 'Aw man, I don’t want to go back just to change my clothes. Well, I think if I use my jacket, no one should be able to notice it…'

Tying my jacket around my waist, I heard loud banging coming from outside and all the lights suddenly went out. Going out and looking around in confusion, I tried searching for my friends only to be met with no one – streets previously filled to the brim with people walking in all directions were now completely empty.

Worried, I ran out shouting for Mizuki and Takeshi, but the whole area near Shibuya station was dead silent. I thought of heading back to the parking garage we had parked our car, hoping to find them soon.

Stopping at the entrance and staring into the darkness inside the garage, I called in; 'Hello? Anyone?'. No answer, only my own voice echoing inside. Walking in and carefully making my way upstairs, I noticed a weird set of lights coming from a few floors above, which did not seem to be coming from any cars.

On a pillar near the metal stairs, there was a small television showing a white screen with a black arrow pointing to the left, one of the many floors available for parking cars. Peeking inside the suspiciously empty lot, I noticed three people standing around a white round table, with a huge grid pattern painted on the ground near them.

I walked up to them in silence, having a bad feeling about this place. Before I could ask anything, I heard footsteps coming from behind me, a man that seemed to be in his late thirties walked past me and grabbed a phone from the table. All the others also had phones in their hands, so I picked up the last phone available, noticing a piece of paper that said 'One per person'. The screen turned on with the text 'FACIAL RECOGNITION IN PROGRESS. PLEASE WAIT A MOMENT.' showing up.

After 'loading', I was now looking at the phone’s home screen: two apps at the top, titled 'Game' and 'VISA', and other nameless apps at the bottom. Before I could try to open any of them, the screen suddenly turned white with a new text, along with a feminine voice that seemed to come from speakers inside the lot, though I couldn’t see any.

REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED

THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE

[GAME]

MINESWEEPER

DIFFICULTY

SEVEN OF DIAMONDS

'Game? Did I just enter someplace I was not supposed to? Also, isn’t seven of diamonds a playing card? As far as I remember, minesweeper wasn’t a card game.' I thought to myself. The screen changed again, and the voice continued:

[RULES]

Players must walk through the board without setting off any mines.

Players have a one-minute time limit to decide which cell to step on.

Standing on a safe cell will show up the number of mines directly around that cell.

Standing on a mined cell will cause the land mine to explode.

Players can only move up to three cells forward in a straight line and are not allowed to move backward.

[CLEAR CONDITION]

Reach the end of the board within the time limit.

[GAME START]

'So, a game of minesweeper but played in real life? Doesn’t sound too bad.' I had played minesweeper a few times in the past, but I was far from being a strategist and only ever played the beginner levels.

My phone screen had changed again, now showing a grid that looked like the one painted on the floor of the parking lot. The number 20 was directly above the grid, and a countdown had started at the bottom of the screen. Ten seconds had passed since the feminine voice last spoke.

'Could there be any mines in the first row? I mean, that would be pretty unfair, even for a seven of diamonds game' the lady beside me spoke, seemingly not directed at anyone in particular. Walking forward, she was now standing on a square inside the grid. Other players did the same, each choosing a square to be on. I was the last one to move, so I walked up to the only square left, the one right in the middle.

I looked at the woman beside me, who had spoken up earlier, as she watched the countdown on her phone. The squares were pretty big, so I moved near the edge of mine to whisper to her: 'Hey, excuse me, uhm…' She didn’t look up from her phone, 'A while ago you said this is a ‘seven of diamonds’ game, could you explain to me what that means? Are there other games with titles like that?'

The lady finally looked up at me, grimacing, eyeing me from head to toe before turning her attention back to the countdown, the only sound coming from her being an annoyed scoff. Embarrassed, I simply moved back to the center of my square, looking down at my phone.

When the countdown reached zero, a 'ding' sound echoed through the lot, and the grid on the phone screen now showed five numbers corresponding to our positions on the board. From left to right, it said 1 - 1 - 2 - 1 - 1, and the countdown was back at a one-minute mark.

'So, these numbers mean how many mines are around our cells, just like in a normal minesweeper game, right? Mine is the only one touching two mined cells…'

Before I could finish my thoughts, a guy standing on the far left side of the grid walked one square forward, looking very confident in his decision. The man directly to my right walked two squares forward, meaning he believed the cell now right behind him contained a mine. Immediately after him, the lady on my left also walked two squares forward. The feminine voice spoke up, 'Thirty seconds left'.

Looking back down at the mini-map, it made total sense that the cells to my diagonal were the ones containing mines, so the cell right in front of me should be safe. I walked up to it, and at the same time, the young man on the right corner also walked to the square in front of him.

Ten seconds left. I anxiously looked around, observing the players around me. None of them looked at each other, only paying attention to their phones, and they seemed very serious about this game. The countdown reached zero again, and another 'ding' was played, followed by a loud explosion in front of me.

The man who had been standing beside me just a minute ago was blown up .

Literally.

A real land mine exploded through the concrete floor, leaving a hole in the ground, and the body of the man – at least, what was left of him – was lying down on top of it.

Pure shock hit me. I felt my legs tremble as I fell on my butt, mouth open and eyes wide staring at the gruesome scene in front of me. I wished I could look away, but I was too frozen in fear to move my body.

The only thing that had taken me out of my trance state was the feminine voice saying 'thirty seconds left' once again. I looked up at the other players, but no one else seemed to be shocked by what had just happened near us, and they all had already chosen their new positions; The two on my left walked one square forward each, and the young man on the right walked two squares forward.

I looked down at my phone, the counter stated twenty seconds left, and the number at the top of the screen was now 19 instead of 20. Twenty seconds for me to choose which square to move to, at the risk of being blown up like that man.

'My current position on the mini-map showed the number four. The two squares beside me were sure to be mined cells… The man died on the cell diagonally right to me… So my choices are the one in front of me and the one diagonally to my left… Wait, that lady was standing on this cell just a few moments ago, wasn’t she?'

Ten seconds left.

I didn’t want to keep trying to figure out the strategy for this game. My body was shaking, my legs felt too weak for me to stand up. I crawled as fast as I could, two squares forward, kneeling at the center of my new cell.

The counter reached zero, followed by that same 'ding' sound, but no explosions happened this time.

I wanted to look back at the body behind me, but I knew I shouldn’t. Anxiety filled me and I looked down at my phone; My cell had three bombs around it. I knew one was behind me, and the other was the one that exploded. I couldn’t think straight to guess what other cell would contain the third mine, the sound of the explosion repeating itself inside my mind, as the awful smell of blood and burnt flesh filled my lungs.

All the other players had moved again, and I was shocked at how calm they looked. I wanted to ask something to the young man to the right since he looked nicer than the lady and the other guy, but he had walked forward three squares, too far away for me to reach him without shouting.

I crawled forward two squares, now moving beside that lady again, 'I should try to talk to her again' , but I couldn’t speak; I felt a knot in my throat, preventing my voice from coming out. I must have looked pathetic at that moment, kneeling in fear, shaking, and holding back tears.

I began crawling forward again, thinking if I could keep moving three squares forward I would be able to get out of this game faster. The woman beside me spoke up for the first time, shouting at me to go back, 'Oi, walking forward three cells is too risky! Do you want to die like that man?' I didn’t look at her, only sat down back where I was.

When the countdown finished this time, the lady walked forward twice immediately after hearing the 'ding' sound. 'Did she know where all the mines were?'

I wanted to trust her, believing that the cell in front of me would contain a mine. I was finally back at my feet, walking forward twice again, the remaining players moved at the same time. All four of us were now standing in the same row. The new numbers shown after the signal were 2 - 4 - 4 - [ ] - 2.

'Tsk, that stupid man died too early. We don’t have anyone to show the numbers on the fourth line. We will have to keep guessing.'

'She has been guessing this whole time? And yet she remains so calm, taking such a risk of stepping on a land mine and dying, just like that man?' I was shocked at her statement. But unfortunately, she was right. Trying to analyze the mini-map on my phone, I guessed the first two and last two cells had mines, due to the two 'number two' shown. But some cells behind us had no numbers because no one stepped on them before, so my guess could be wrong. With this, I couldn’t be sure of any mines around me except for the one probably behind me. 'I think I’ll just keep trusting that lady’s judgment and follow her steps beside her'.

All players had now moved two squares forward, and I followed them. With only ten seconds remaining, the guy to my left walked one more square forward, with a smug look on his face, 'He’s too confident in his choices.'

The counter reached zero. A 'ding' and another explosion were heard. That smug guy was now dead as well. His body lying down near the hole formed on the ground, his arms spread over the square to his right, a blue wristband covered in bright red blood.

The sound scared me again and I pressed my hands to my ears, shaking in fear. I looked over at the woman, waiting for her to make a move that I could follow, and our eyes met; She was staring at me with that same expression at the beginning of the game. I hated it, I felt like a weak scaredy-cat, I could stay right here and wait for whatever punishment was prepared for players who didn’t move during the time limit for each round. I had never been this terrified before.

The woman took her eyes off me and walked forward again. The young man to my right had been waving his hands up in the air for some reason, and when I looked up I realized he was trying to get my attention since I was still covering my ears. Lowering my hands and looking directly into his face, I could hear him say in a calm voice: 'Hey, this must be your first game. I know how you feel, I was the same during my first game. But please, don’t give up now. We are all here trying to survive, and you should too, live on for those who couldn’t.'

His words almost made me release the tears I had been holding back all this time. Live on for those who couldn’t? Does he mean the two other men who died near us? Can my survival really mean anything to anyone, especially to these people I had never seen before?

I didn’t know what to say, but he just finished his sentence with a kind smile and walked forward without waiting for me to reply. I wanted to clean off the tears forming in the corners of my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt, but as soon as my hand came near my face I noticed my sleeve had been splattered with dried blood. It smelled awful, and it reminded me of the explosion noises again.

I finally decided to move forward, I wanted to finish this cruel game as soon as possible. Or maybe I was just pretending to be strong while waiting to die to a land mine as well. I still wanted to follow the lady beside me, she looked smart and much better than me at minesweeper. All of us walked forward two squares, standing on the same row once again. Our new positions in the mini-map were all numbered two, but this time none of the cells around us – except for me and the woman beside me – were unopened. We all would have to guess.

'Should we all move forward two squares again? That is already the second-to-last row. We had been moving two squares for a while now and we have been safe, this could keep working until the end.' I suggested in a low voice, I hadn’t said anything since that knot formed in my throat like what, five minutes ago? I hadn’t lifted my face off my phone, observing what I now realized was a mine count at the top of the screen, showing the number 18.

Silence. I was sure this lady was bothered enough that I had been following her, and the man only looked at me with an unknowing expression, like he didn’t know how to play minesweeper and had been relying on luck this whole time.

Both of them decided to move only one square forward. They didn’t want to follow my advice. Still, they remained completely calm, and they seemed more experienced than me at this; both of them had implied before that there were more 'games' like this, so maybe there was a pattern to them that they already knew about. If that was the case, I wasn’t going to trust myself, being a complete beginner to this kind of thing.

I moved forward only one square as well.

A 'ding'.

And an explosion, much louder than the two previous ones.

The reason for that loud sound was that two explosions happened at the same time. I saw debris flying from both corners of my eyes. Clutching to my heart, I didn’t know if I wanted to look at either of them now. I knew they were dead. The lady who had looked so serious and confident since the start of this game, and the young man who was probably counting on his luck and tried to reassure me in a moment of anxiety.

Both of them, dead next to me.

Tears were finally running down my face. I didn’t know any of them, why was I crying over the death of four people I never knew?

Stupid me. They were still real, brutal deaths that happened very close to me. This wasn’t anything like seeing people die in horror movies. I didn’t rely on those fictional characters to survive, and I couldn’t feel the foul odor from their dead bodies. This was different. Reality was different, and it was much worse.

I walked forward two squares, now standing on the last row of this board. Or better said, crouching down. I left the phone on the floor in front of me and hugged my knees, sobbing uncontrollably, though I didn't know why I was crying so hard. I was sure I was going to die like them, I didn’t trust myself for this.

The counter reached zero one last time, and I embraced myself, waiting for a land mine to take my life away, just like it did to those people. I heard that 'ding' again, but nothing else happened. I barely moved up my head, looking at the phone screen through the tears in front of my eyes. The first thing I noticed was the mine count, now showing the number 16. Below that number, the grid was now complete – it showed all the cells on the board and their respective numbers and bomb markers.

I picked up my phone to look at it closer, and something made me feel sick to my stomach: Following the lines that lady and that young man were, if they had walked forward two squares as I suggested before, they would have landed on safe cells.

My guess had been correct. If they had believed me, the three of us would have survived.

I was crying again, when the screen changed one last time, and that feminine voice echoed through the empty lot:

[GAME CLEAR]

CONGRATULATIONS

TO THE SURVIVORS OF THE GAME, WE WILL NOW SUPPLY YOU WITH A VISA

Seven symbols appeared on the screen, shaped like the diamond suit from card games. I had no idea what this meant, but I think the game was over now. So I could finally leave?

Once it hit me, I ran . Going down the metal stairs as fast as I could, the few lights in the building went out and I almost tripped on my feet multiple times. I ran down to the entrance floor of the parking garage and, right where I first came in, a white round table that wasn’t there before now stood in my way, with a single card placed on top of it – a seven of diamonds. Just in case this had any meaning, I shoved the card inside the back pocket of my jeans and left.

I put my earphones back in, trying to calm myself down with some music. It was dark outside. No lights coming from any of the buildings nearby, only the moon and the stars shining up in the night sky.

#hauntedsideofthemoon #chishiya x reader #chishiya x gender neutral reader #chishiya x gn reader #chishiya x oc #aib x reader #alice in borderland chishiya #chishiya fanfic #aib fanfic

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boxofbonesfic · 3 years

Photo

Title: Rattler

Pairing: Dark!Nomad!Steve x Reader

Summary: It’s the eyes. They’re so kind, it’s hard to tell. At least with rattlesnakes, you can hear the danger—with Steve Rogers, you never saw him coming.

Warnings: Dubcon, Noncon, Stalking, Dead Dove: Do not eat, Mean Steve, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Kidnapping, Smut, Obsessive Behavior, Misogyny, Breeding, Public Sex, Humiliation

A/N: i have no excuse for this, other than it’s been sitting in my head for way too long. it’s also my first (late as HELL) attempt at clearing my Writing in the Dark bingo card, given to me oh so long ago by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor. divider by @whimsicalrogers!

This is a work of FICTION, and it is Dark, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk!

🐍

Rain soaked through your sweatshirt by the time you reach the bus stop, the thick fabric sticking coldly to the damn skin beneath it. You glared glumly at the back of the retreating bus, gritty rainwater soaking into the cheap canvas of your sneakers as you watched it leave without you. At least it was dry under the bus shelter, even though it reeked of piss and was littered with trash.

You kicked frustratedly at an empty can, before sitting reluctantly down onto the seat. A look at your phone revealed it was almost midnight, and your irritation turned into despair—that was the last bus due for the night, and you’d missed it. You quickly pulled up your bank account information—you had just enough for a ride home before o check hit tomorrow, if you skimped out on your tip.

Inwardly promising yourself you would go in and leave a bigger one later, you pulled Uber up on your phone. There were a couple of drivers in your area, and the pepper spray in your purse made you feel a little safer about trusting your safety to a stranger.

Kevin is on the way! Your phone chirped brightly at you. He’ll be there s fifteen minutes! That wasn’t too long to wait, so you settled in playing with your phone. At least this way, your hour long bus trip would only be a thirty minute drive. You’d only just opened up the matching app on your phone when the short burst of a horn almost made you drop it.

You hadn’t noticed the black S.U.V. pull up alongside the curb, and you stood cautiously, squinting into the darkened window. It slid down to reveal a friendly looking blond man, with long, shaggy hair and a full beard.

“Waiting for your driver?” He asked, before peering around nervously. “I hope you’re the right person.”

You shove your phone into your pocket, shielding your face from the fat, splattering drops of rain. “Yeah, are you Kevin?”

“Yep, that’s me,” he gestured for you to get inside, and you could hear the sound of the locks clicking. You didn’t normally get into the front with the driver, but it was pouring, and you were only getting wetter by the second. He flashed you another friendly smile, and you gave a small one back—if he did anything weird, you could always report him on the app, couldn’t you? They had all those new safety features that popped up every time you tried to book a ride, so you supposed they had to be good for something.

You climbed into the car, resting your purse on the floor. Water dripped from your fingers, and you wiped them embarrassedly on your jeans. “Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize,” he said, smiling. “It’s raining cats and dogs out there. Oh, my, um, app is on the fritz. Mind just telling me where you’re going? I know this city like the back of my hand.”

“Sure. I’m headed over the bridge. I’m on ninth street.” It wouldn’t be the first time a driver had told you the app was janky, and he ran a hand through his golden hair before shifting into drive. You’re not one for idle chit chat with your driver, but Kevin doesn’t give you a choice, his smooth baritone filling the car easily, like he doesn’t even notice your hesitance.

“It’s awfully late to be waiting at the bus stop, probably a good thing you called a ride,” he said cheerfully, slowing to a careful stop in front of a sign.

“Yeah. I missed the last bus, so…” You trailed off, hoping he’d get the picture.

“Oh, well. Glad I was driving then.” Something about the way he said it struck you as odd, but you couldn’t place exactly why before he was speaking again, distracting you in that deep, kind voice. “What kind of job’s keeping you out so late, if you don’t mind me asking?”

You felt awkward not making conversation since he’d started, and you shifted a little in the seat as you answered.

“I’m a waitress, so late nights are kind of in the job description.” You glanced at his face as the lights passed overhead. Something about him was so familiar, but you couldn’t place it—a hazy memory of a similar voice speaking with some authority—

“Of course, of course.” You watched the city pass by through the window as he turned onto the large bridge separating downtown from the rest of the urban sprawl. “We’ve all got to make a living, right?” He flashed you another winning smile, and you wonder again where you think you know him from. You were fairly new in this small city, and your friends were limited to people you’d met at work, and the disappointing hook-ups you’d had from the bars.

“Yeah.” You recognized the streets around you easily now, about five minutes from your small apartment. Your phone buzzed in your lap, and you glanced at it disinterestedly. You swiped away the notification without checking it. “We do.”

Your phone vibrated again, and you huffed irritatedly before checking it.

Your driver wants to send you a message!

Kevin: Hey, I don’t see you

Kevin: Are you around the corner or something

You tapped quickly on the little picture down by his driver information, and your heart began pounding in your chest.

Kevin was a dark haired man—and furthermore, he looked to be about your father’s age, certainly not the young, attractive stranger in the driver’s seat. Perhaps he’d seen your white knuckled grip on your phone, or the panicked expression quickly spreading over your features, but he cleared his throat.

“You feeling okay? We’re almost there, but I can pull over if you need to.” His brows creased with worry as he looked at you, and you felt his gaze like a physical caress, which made you even more nervous. Who was this man? You wanted to believe it was just an error in the system, two drivers sent to the same location—that was possible, right? Doubt flourished deep in your gut even as you fought to remain outwardly calm.

Cold sweat prickled at your temple, and you nodded jerkily, wiping it away.

“Y-yeah.” Stay calm. He’s dropping you off. You’re almost home. It was weird and scary, but… he hadn’t done anything wrong, not necessarily. And you were the absolute idiot who’d gotten right into his car without even checking. You glanced over at him, studying his features again.

“I’m, um, I’m just tired.”

He was handsome, and built like a brick shit-house under that long-sleeved henley, you could see that easily. He easily had eighty pounds of pure muscle on you, and you shrank in your seat even further.

“Okay then.”

You twisted the fabric of your jeans nervously in your fingers as your duplex came into view. He pulled slowly into the empty spot right out front, and you swallowed thickly.

“T-thank you.” You tried the door—but it didn’t open. You whipped your head around to see him facing you, leaning casually against the wheel. “C-could you unlock it please?”

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, his expression calculating. “You seem jumpy.”

“No, nothing’s wrong.” Please let me out of the car.

“Nothing on your mind?”

“N-no.”

You heard the locks disengage, and you scrambled for your purse. “Have a good night!” You squeaked, almost tripping in your haste to get out of the vehicle. You could feel him watching you as you hurried up the steps and unlocked the first door. You walked up to the second floor even though you lived on the first, waiting until you saw the headlights disappear from your front yard. You sagged against the wall, and a small sob worked its way out of your throat.

You staggered down the stairs, threw open your front door and promptly fell to your knees. This was the stuff of nightmares, the things your mother warned you about before you’d gone off into the world on your own. You’d been in dicey situations before—at bars, at men’s apartments—but never like that. You’d never felt so small, so out of control…

You sniffled, rising to your feet on shaky legs to lock the door behind you.

At least it’s over.

🐍

The next morning found you groggy, your body still sluggish from your anxiety the night before. You called your mother over a cup of coffee, balancing your phone against the container of creamer. She answered in her robe, and you smiled at the sight of her matching cup. You’d gotten the set specifically for that purpose, and you supposed it was just serendipity that she was using it at the exact same time you were.

“Hey kiddo. You look rough.”

You snickered. She never pulled punches, your mother. “Yeah. I had a… bad night.”

“What happened?”

You looked down at your mug. You were ashamed at your own lack of awareness, of how close you’d come to ending up missing on the news. You watched the mirth drain from her eyes as her lips pressed into a thin line.

“You want me to come up? I can stay with you for a while.” She says after a moment of silence. “Christ.”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m… I’m okay, but…”

“I could be talking to the cops right now!” She scolded you, and it didn’t seem to matter that you were bordering on thirty, you felt sixteen again as she laid into you. “You’ve got to pay more attention! What if that sick freak comes back?”

“I know, ma. I’m sorry.” You were angry at yourself for apologizing, but it seemed to calm her down. “Look, I’ve got to get ready for work.”

“You should call the police.”

You realized with frustration that you didn’t get a license plate number, nothing. You didn’t even know the fake driver’s name—you could pick him out in a line-up, sure, but the chances of the cops picking him up were slim and you knew it.

“I’ll think about it. I gotta go.” You really didn’t, but you hadn’t expected your conversation with your mother to sour your mood. She was right, you did need to be more aware, but… you’d come to her for comfort, not cold reality. You could get that easily enough on your own.

You didn’t have to head into work until later that evening, so you spent your morning trying to ground yourself, doing a couple of stretches on your mat in front of your television as it played in the background.

“We’re cutting to Tom—Tom, any news on the former Avenger, Captain America?”

Your eyes flick lazily up to the screen as you reached for your toes.

“No, Nathan, we don’t. Last known whereabouts are still Germany, though he could be anywhere.” A picture appeared on the screen next to the daytime anchor, and your heart practically stopped in your chest.

That was him.

Captain America was your driver.

Your body went rigid, and you rose shakily to your knees. There was no doubt about it—the same jawline, hidden under that beard, the same shining, golden locks and warm blue eyes… You shuddered. You wouldn’t involve yourself, you didn’t want to give him a reason to remember you, not with how close he’d seemed to not letting you out of the vehicle.

You took a hot shower to calm your nerves before work, and as you ran a wide toothed comb through your curls, you vowed you’d never miss the late bus again. You caught the early bus to work, making sure to keep one headphone out so you could hear the people around you. Starting today, you’d be more vigilant, you decided. You couldn’t risk another close call like that again.

When you got to the restaurant, the lunch rush was already underway, and you were grateful for the opportunity not to think as you hurried between your tables. It was easy to let the terror and anxiety of the night before slip into the background, especially now that it was over and done. You didn’t take ubers often, and after that you certainly wouldn’t do it again—not unless you had no other choice.

You were due to leave before closing, so you weren’t too concerned as the early autumn sun began to dip below the tree-line.

“Hey, you’ve got one more table,” Patricia breezed by you in the wait station, balancing a tray of coffees in one hand. “G6, in the back. Just kind of sat himself, but we’re pretty empty so.” She shrugged, and you nodded. You could take one more table—especially if it was just one guy. You grabbed a fresh pad from the pile on the counter and tucked it into your book before plucking the pen from behind your ear.

“Hi, sorry for the wait, is there anything I can—” The words died in your throat, turning into a strangled whimper as Steve Rogers smiled up at you.

“No thanks, I’m just here for a chat. You’re off soon, aren’t you?” He asked, still speaking in that friendly ramble you recognized from every interview you’d ever seen. “You’ve been here since noon, so I assume you’re the next to be cut from the floor.” Your heart leapt into your throat. He’d been watching you all day? He patted the booth next to him. “Sit.”

Your body obeyed stiffly, and you jerkily lowered yourself into the booth across from him. You watched his lips purse at your choice, though he smoothed it away with another easygoing grin.

He glanced down at the menu. “What’s good here, sweetheart? I’m pretty stereotypical, love a good burger.” He chuckles, and you manage another weak nod.

“T-the burger is good.”

“I’ll have that, then. Do you want something? You’ve been working all day, I bet you’re hungry. Just put something in under my tab, okay?” He reached forward to grasp your hand, and you squeaked in terror, flinching away as his thumb brushed over your skin. “Hey, hey, none of that. Haven’t hurt you, have I?”

“N-no.” You braved a look up at his face, in time to see his eyes darken as his tongue flicked out to wet his lips.

“Then you’ll be a good girl and put the order in, won’t you?” He cocked his head, and this time, the smile didn’t reach his eyes. You stood, and before you could stop it, the question popped out of your well-trained mouth.

“Do you want fries with that?”

He laughed loudly, slapping a hand to his chest. “Yeah, sweetheart. Why don’t you add that on?”

You rushed back to the wait station, your stomach rolling. You felt sick, you were going to puke right there in front of the P.O.S—

“Hey girl—what’s wrong? Jesus, you look green,” Patricia replied worriedly, rubbing your back as you rested your forehead against the cool metal table. “What? That guy looked pretty hot, did he say something gross to you?” She scowled in the direction of his table. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t say a word. Would he hear you? He was a superhero, right?

You swallowed the bile in your throat. “N-no. I’m just not feeling well.” The lie tasted sour on your tongue, but it was better than the unknown threat of the truth. “H-he’s a friend.” Patricia’s expression went from worried to smug, and she slapped at your arm.

“Oh a friend, huh? Don’t worry, I won’t tell Jimmy you’ve got friends coming to see you at work.” She winked at you, and you managed a watery smile, punching the order into the system with trembling fingers. You didn’t really want anything, didn’t think you could eat next to him. All you’d had to eat was coffee today, and even that was threatening to come back up on you. To appease him, you punched in a small salad, that would probably sit fine in your stomach.

You poured him a water, and brought it out to his table, before turning to return to the wait station to hide, but his hand caught the back of your apron.

“No, no, sweetheart, sit down, please.” He took a sip of his water, before leaning forward and folding his hands together. “I’m not really a fan of lying, or of bullshit, are you?” He asked, and you swallowed thickly shaking your head as you stared down at your hands. “Good. When did you recognize me?”

“This morning.” You murmured quietly, digging your nails into your palms.

“Mmm. And did you tell anyone?” You saw his jaw tighten as he asked, his eyes narrowing as he searched you for tell-tale signs of a lie.

“N-no. I… I just wanted this to be over.” You squeeze your thighs through your jeans, hoping the pain will center you. “I didn’t say anything to anyone.”

“And your mother? What did you tell her?” You choked on air—how did he know you’d called her? The shock on your face seemed to amuse him, and his lips spread into a smile.

“I told her I got into a car and… the driver was fake.”

The sound of a bell made you jerk—it was the cook, telling you the order was up. You moved to go get it, but Steve’s hand closed around your thigh in an instant, rooting you to the spot.

“Stay. Let the other girl get it.” He sighed, leaning back in the booth. “I just… I like watching people. Like interacting with them, without them going all nutty because I’m Captain America.” He said it like it wasn’t a benefit for him—but all men with power did that; they pretended it was so much of a burden to be better than everyone else. You could see the lie in his eyes too, the glint that told you he enjoyed it.

That he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“But I guess what I like most of all is seeing how easily people forget me. You know you’re the first? The first to even notice.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s one of the things I don’t get about this time. How oblivious everyone is. You think you’d save the world enough times, and people would see you. No one does.”

You licked your dry lips as the bell sounded again, and you heard Patricia shuffling to the back to get the order.

“But you saw.”

“Here you go, guys.” Patricia replied, setting the plates down with a flourish. “Let me know if you need anything else.” She winked at you again, and you look at her pleadingly. She bounced away, and Steve chuckled, popping a fry into his mouth.

“See? Oblivious.” He shook his head.

“I’m not going to tell anyone.” You blurted, unable to keep the word vomit from bubbling out of your lips any longer. “I-I don’t want any trouble.” You didn’t want to be on Captain America’s shit list, though it didn’t seem like there was much you could do to avoid it now. Steve wiped his face with a napkin before depositing it on the half-eaten plate of fries.

“That’s good, me either, sweetheart. Come on, eat something. You’re shaking.” You were torn between complete incredulity and utter disbelief. “What’s wrong? Are you scared?” He asked, and you almost missed the flash of joy in his eyes. He knew you were uncomfortable, and he was enjoying it.

“Yes…” You set the fork down. “This isn’t… I mean, I’m not… I’m not anybody,” you stammered, twining your fingers together nervously as you fought to get the words out. “I don’t understand.” You said finally, looking back down at the table. It was easier than meeting his expectant gaze.

“You’re sweet. A nice girl. Let me guess, you closed last night even though you weren’t supposed to? Girl like you doesn’t just miss the bus.” He leaned forward intently, and your face heated at the truth in his statement. LeeAnne had called out, and you’d closed for her, knowing you’d be cutting it close with the bus. “It’s the same reason you didn’t tell anybody about your drive last night, isn’t it sweetheart?”

You shifted uncomfortably as he analyzed you, picking at the cuticles of your nails. Patricia came and cleared the plates away, and you stood nervously.

“I, um, I have to clean my section.” You turned and made for the wait station, almost tripping over your own feet as you headed for the stockroom. You sat heavily on an out-of-date bag of rice, burying your face in your hands. You waited there until your heart stopped beating so frantically, before bravely grabbing the handle of your broom. By the time you made it back to your section, Steve Rogers was long gone, and a crisp twenty sat underneath his water glass.

You almost didn’t want to take the tip, but you knew it would only be more suspicious if you left it. You wiped down your tables and swept them, making sure to push the cushions up on the booths.

“He was cute,” Patricia wheedled as you took off your apron and tossed it into the bin for the dirties. “Where’d you meet him?”

He pretended to be my uber driver. “Um, a bar, or something.” You replied dismissively, hoping she wouldn’t pry.

“Well, I haven’t seen you with a single guy since you’ve worked here, so I hope it goes somewhere.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and you choked out a fake sounding laugh.

“Yeah.”

You made it on time for your bus, and you threw yourself heavily into the seat. Hopefully, his curiosity satisfied, Steve would leave you alone. He probably had bigger problems than a small town waitress recognizing him—or at least, you hoped so.

When you got home, your apartment was exactly as you’d left it. You kicked your shoes off by the door, and then padded to your bedroom, where you barely had the energy to strip out of your work clothes before sinking into the softness of your sheets.

🐍

part two

le taglist

@dorothea-hwldr @archy3001 @syntheticavenger @river-soul @millennial-teenybopper @doozywoozy @dreamlessinparis @melancia @ladyacrasia @sweeterthanthis @stupendouslovegardener @violetmoon74 @holl2712 @nymariel @snokeandmirrors21 @fandoms-writings @simpformarvelmenandwoman @cocobwrites @bex-tk1 @punemy-spotted @thecrandle @captainrcgers @last-saturday-night @perfectus-in-morte @emberenchanted @caffiend-queen @johndeaconshands @chcblndnrd75 @lilithhellfire @bwbatta @beelicious-barnes

@mcudarklibrary

#dark!steve x reader #dark!steve x you #dark!steve smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #darkfic #smut #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #marvel fic #mcu #MCU AU #boxofbonesfic #Rattler Series #marvel fanfiction

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babyboibucky · 3 years

Text

The Match - Part 8

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You get a preview of what it’s like to be working with Mackenzie.

Warnings: I apologize as there is no smut in here lmfao but there is a stubborn Bucky lols

A/N: The jitters just never go away whenever I post a new part for this ajkcnjasncakjcnakj I find this part boring tbh but uhh things will start picking up again in the next part I promise

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky decided to push through with his partnership with Wilson Enterprises. It was a big one, so it definitely required the entire team's effort and perseverance. Apparently, this is the company's biggest, most major project yet so this was going to look really good in your resume. It would also provide you with more credibility to further excel in your career.

Except that Bucky actually hired a marketing consultant to take over the entire project as his revenge.

"Any questions? About the project or about Kenzie?" Bucky asked, standing in front of the conference room, next to Mackenzie.

You confidently raised your hand when no one else did. Bucky tilted his head, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew you were affected, of fucking course you were!

"Yes?" he called out.

You stood up and sighed softly, "I mean this in the most respectful way, Mister Barnes." you said, emphasizing his name. "But as the head of marketing, what exactly is my role here? Given that Mackenzie was hired to spearhead the marketing aspect of this project." you said, giving Mackenzie a passive aggressive smile.

"I don't want to overstep on some boundaries here, that's why I'm asking. I just want clarity, that's all." you said.

Bucky was about to respond when Mackenzie stopped him, grabbing his arm and squeezing it before taking over the floor. You narrowed your eyes at how her slender fingers were wrapped around Bucky's arm.

"Honey..." Mackenzie started. "There's nothing to worry about, this is a collaborative work between you and I. So think of yourself as my assistant, someone to help me out with the project." she responded.

Bitch.

"I'm not an assistant, Mackenzie." you said, smiling at her.

Mackenzie laughed, "I'm sorry, my bad. I shouldn't have used that term. Oops." she said. "Although, I believe I have more experience in this area so maybe consider me a mentor?" she suggested.

Bitch!

Bucky cleared his throat, "If you have certain ideas, you can discuss it with her. She is a consultant after all. Given her impressive experience in the field, I'm sure you'll learn a thing or two from her."

The meeting was wrapped up by noon and you simply couldn't wait to get yourself out of the conference room. You didn't feel like talking to Bucky anymore in all honesty, not after what he was doing. You knew this was just to spite you, get you to cave in first and give in to him.

All the more that you wouldn't, especially not when he actually used your job against you.

Everyone started rushing out of the conference room, ready to head out for lunch. As soon as you reached the doorway, you overheard the short conversation between Bucky and Mackenzie.

"Hey Bucky, we still up for lunch?"

The bathroom was empty when you stepped inside and thank god for that because you couldn't hold back your emotions any further. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes, not because you were hurt. Fuck no, you were angry and frustrated. So fucking angry at yourself for getting into this mess, at Bucky for being such an entitled prick, at the entire world for plotting against you.

You groaned in irritation as you wiped away your tears, sniffing as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You worked your ass off for this job, for your position. You risked your dignity when you let Bucky fuck you. You weren't going to let someone take that away from you.

You quickly fixed yourself when the door opened, followed by the loud clacking of someone's heels.

"Omg, are you crying?" Beverly gasped, rushing over to you.

You snickered, "No." you lied, "My eyes are itchy." you huffed out before noticing that Beverly was holding a sandwich in her hand.

"Why did you bring your sandwich here?" you curiously asked.

Beverly shrugged, "The pantry's full and the other girls don't exactly seem to like me...so..."

You shook your head and sighed, "Come with me, let's have lunch out. I need to get out of this fucking place anyway."

"Yay, omg! I knew you were nice! You're like, the only girl who actually talked to me nicely." Beverly said, tagging behind you as you exited the bathroom.

"Oh, there you are!" Mark called out. "I was looking for you. Wanna grab lunch? Oh...who's this?" he asked, noticing the blonde girl trailing behind you.

"I'm Beverly! I'm Sir James' new secretary." she introduced excitedly.

You sighed, "Don't ask me why." you said when Mark turned to you with a confused look, still not sure what happened to Bucky's previous secretary.

"So, lunch out? With Bev?" you asked.

You were completely zoning out during lunch despite the ongoing conversation between Mark and Bev, something about yoga? You honestly couldn't care less, not when you were feeling so conflicted about your current situation.

Would Bucky actually go that far just to get you back? Or does he actually hate you for saying no to him and is basically using his authority to make your life a living hell?

"So I heard about the new girl." Mark said, that snapped you out of your trance.

"Huh?" you asked.

"I find it weird for Mister Barnes to hire someone when you're here." Mark pointed out. "I mean, are you okay with that or..."

You snorted, "Fuck no. Look, I'm not gonna be the bigger person here. I was offended as fuck." you admitted.

"Yeah, it's super weird because she was hired through Tinder or something. Is that even legal?" Beverly pointed out as she scrolled through her phone.

You and Mark turned to her abruptly, "Tinder? Wait, what?" you asked.

Beverly chuckled, "I heard them talking this morning and Kenzie was like, 'It's so funny that we matched on Tinder and ended up doing business there you know' and I'm like omg Sir James has Tinder and I have one too but I never saw him there, bummer."

"Motherfucker." you hissed out.

Mark made a face, "Are you okay?" he carefully asked. "You've been really tensed since last week."

Apparently, Bucky never deleted his Tinder and have been swiping right on women. And that's how he met Mackenzie who just happened to be a marketing consultant. Now you were just furious, was he fucking her too? Has he been fucking other women this entire time?

"Hey, Bev..." you said, a plan hatching inside your mind. "Can I ask you a favor?" you asked nicely.

Beverly nodded, "Um duh, you're basically my office BFF now."

"If you ever hear Mister Barnes and Mackenzie talk about hmm, I don't know...something interesting. Maybe about the project...me 'cause you know, I'm the head of marketing and Mackenzie’s in the same field...let me know, will ya?" you asked.

Mark chuckled nervously, "I don't know what's going on but isn't that an invasion of privacy?"

"She's not going to eavesdrop, Mark. She'll just...listen closely." you explained.

"Bev might get in trouble if Mister Barnes finds out." Mark warned.

You waved a hand, "She'll be fine, Mark. She's his secretary, she has to know everything. Besides, I'm not going to let her get in trouble, if she does then I'll take care of it."

Beverly squealed in delight, "Omg, you are not my office BFF. You're like my office mom! You and Mark are literally my office parents." she said, lifting her phone up in the air.

"Selfie! This one goes to the 'gram." she said, taking a quick photo of the three of you.

She then proceeded to edit the photo while you and Mark continued eating lunch.

"Bev, you should really put your phone away and eat first. We have less than half an hour left for lunch break." Mark called out.

Beverly groaned and rolled her eyes, "Way to get into the role, Mark. You're such a dad."

You snorted, "Yeah. Loosen up, daddy." you teased.

"Playing family after just one date, huh."

Bucky's presence in the same restaurant should've really intimidated you, most especially that he just witnessed you tease Mark like that. But you were too mad at him to even care, what was the point even? He didn't believe you even when you told him the truth that Mark was just a friend.

Why even try now?

"Hi Sir James." Beverly greeted happily.

"Mister Barnes." Mark acknowledged.

Bucky ignored them and kept his eyes on you. You didn't falter under his gaze and simply stared back at him with blank eyes. It's as if a staring competition took place when the both of you merely looked at each other, neither of you looking away nor attempting to do so.

"How was that date last Friday, Jim?" Bucky asked, his eyes still trained on yours.

Mark made a funny face at the name that Bucky called him but shrugged anyway. Before he could even respond, you decided to answer on his behalf. If Bucky wanted to spite you, you'd give him a taste of his own medicine.

"It was actually great. We might go on another one this Friday." you said.

"We are?" Mark asked in a whisper.

Bucky's hand landed on Mark's shoulder, "Don't count on it, Andrew. She's going to be doing a lot of work on Friday due to the project." he said through gritted teeth.

You shrugged, "Oh, but I thought Mackenzie's doing all my work?"

"I'm ready to head back, Buck."

Speak of the devil herself. Mackenzie weaved through the tables and approached Bucky, her face brightening up when she saw you, Mark and Beverly.

"Oh, hey you." she greeted you. "Look, I think we may have started off on the wrong foot earlier. I'm not here to take your job, just here to spice things up a bit. Improve your ideas, give Bucky some assistance." she chuckled, holding onto Bucky's arm yet again.

You fought back the urge to grab your glass of water and throw it at her face. As the saying goes, kill them with kindness. So you merely shrugged and extended an arm for a handshake.

"Of course. I would love to improve your ideas as well, you know. Just a healthy discourse between two marketing professionals. We good?" you said.

Mackenzie forced out a chuckle and reached for your hand, "We’re good. I look forward to working with you." she said before turning back to Bucky who was still gazing at you.

"Let's go?" she asked sweetly.

Bucky smirked at you before wrapping an arm around Mackenzie's waist, guiding her out of the restaurant the same way he did to you. You were too focused on Bucky's body language around Mackenzie that you failed to notice that Mark was watching you closely, your expressions and how you reacted towards Bucky.

"I think I know what's happening."

"You what?!"

"Shhh!" you hushed Mark and peeked out of the empty pantry to make sure the coast was clear.

Mark noticed the tension between you and Bucky and he came to a conclusion that the both of you dated at one point. He wasn't really wrong but he wasn't right either. So you decided to tell him everything, from the moment you matched with Bucky on Tinder until your last conversation with him last Saturday.

"I honestly thought you were dating, I didn't know there was sex involved. No wonder he had been calling me weird names." he said incredulously. "Was that you and Mister Barnes that Janet reported to the HR?" he asked, stifling his laughter.

You groaned, "Yes. Ugh, gave me a panic attack when I found out about that incident report." you said.

"Hey..." Mark called out. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this. Your secret is safe with me." he reassured.

You nodded, "I think it was about time that I told someone about us anyway. This whole situation is driving me crazy and I don't know what to do next. And I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess, I shouldn't have said that we were going out again. I don't want you or your job getting compromised because of our petty fight." you exhaled.

You had to admit, you felt so much better now after confiding with Mark. It somewhat alleviated the weight on your shoulders, knowing that there was someone aware of what you were going through. Who would've thought that this person would end up being Mark? You did have friends outside of work of course, but you felt like they all wouldn't really understand the situation.

Half would hate you for rejecting Bucky and the other half would hate you for even swiping right on him.

"Do you mind an unsolicited advice?" Mark asked.

"Not at all." you said.

"Ignore him. Don't let him or Mackenzie get to you. Do what you do best, you're great at your job and you'll be fine. That might get him to realize that you're not a prize to be won. And if he still doesn't see that, then that's his loss. You're more than just that hot marketing girl at work." Mark said.

You laughed at his last statement, "Hot marketing girl at work?" you asked, shaking your head.

"It's true. So if in any case you decide to ditch the CEO and move on, you know where to find me." he joked, throwing a wink your way.

You wanted to finish all your reports so you could focus on the huge project so you decided to work until around nine in the evening. The floor was already empty by the time you were done. Bucky seemed to be working too, given that he was still replying to e-mails at this hour. Wanting to get all the reports over with, you decided to submit it to him before going home.

During the elevator ride to Bucky’s floor, you couldn’t help but wonder whether he was alone in the office. Would Mackenzie be there with him? Even at this hour? Your grip on the folder tightened at the thought of catching them in the act.

But did you have any right to feel this way though?

Brushing off the thoughts, you exhaled loudly and prepared yourself for whatever it was you were to witness. Upon reaching the door to Bucky’s office, you slightly turned your head to listen to anything. It was quiet. No hushed whispers nor strained grunts-- they weren’t fucking, thank goodness for that.

You decided not to knock and just walk inside like you used to, reminding yourself of Mark’s advice.

Don’t let Bucky get to you.

When you saw Bucky hunched over his desk, typing away on his e-mails instead of bending a certain brunette somewhere in his office, you had to admit that you were relieved. He looked up and his eyes looked dead tired, you almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“You should really learn how to knock.” Bucky called out, slamming his laptop shut.

“Look, Bucky. I was just rushing to submit these reports so I can go home.” you explained and placed the folder on top of his desk.

Bucky frowned, “I said to call me Mister Barnes.”

You huffed out, “I honestly don’t care, Bucky. I’m not playing your damn games anymore.” you said and turned around.

A hand on your arm pulled you back, harshly turning you around to face Bucky. He was fuming, as usual. At this point, you were no longer fazed.

“You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?” he asked.

You clenched your jaw and pulled your arm back, “I’m not doing anything. You bring in Beverly or Mackenzie or whoever it is that you have up your sleeve. I don’t fucking care. I just want to focus on work.” you said and stepped away.

“And you should too, Bucky.” you added.

“I don’t believe you.” he said.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping from exhaustion at this whole shenanigan. “I’m done, Bucky.”

And with that you turned around to exit his office, leaving Bucky unsure whether you truly meant what you said. A victorious smirk graced your lips as you walked back to the elevator.

You were far from done.

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag @weird-mumbling @propertyofpoeandbucky @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @mostly-marvel-musings @squishybabies @megzdoodle @suchababie @annathesillyfriend @xhollycowx @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @5-seconds-of-mendes @gogolucky13 @countonthesun @iloveshawnieboi @learisa @borikenlove @scarlet-natasha89

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @im-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @whoth3hellisbucky

#bbb writes #the match #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #fem!reader #sebastian stan

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frostedfaves · 3 years

Text

Naive (3)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You pick up on the lies in Wanda’s life and she decides to show you the truth.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️, more hints at dom/sub because I’m a whore for demon!Wanda

A/N: I can’t believe that it’s been a month since I posted the last one 😭 I have some things planned for the next part and so on but I also kinda wanna take requests again??? idk we all know how I get overwhelmed easily with that so we’ll see what happens there. anyway tell me your thoughts on this please!

Previous part

Waking up feels like gasping for air after being trapped underwater. You aren’t sure how long you were asleep, but the mid afternoon traffic quickly alerts you of how much of the day has passed.

Despite your head feeling like it’s made of cement, you manage to stand up, slipping off thin pajamas as you walk into the bathroom and stop at the mirror. Your skin seems tender in places and you’re a little bit startled when there isn’t a single indication of the bite marks and scratches you feel, even after rubbing your eyes a few times and turning in every direction possible. Deciding to let it go for now, you reach for the shower stall to turn on the water, detouring to the bedroom instead when you hear your phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“You didn’t save my number, did you?”

“Wanda?” You pull the phone away long enough to quickly clear your throat. “I mean hey, Wanda! What makes you think I didn’t save your number?”

“You answered like you didn’t know who was going to be on the other end.”

“Okay, you caught me,” you admit after a moment of silence. “I promise I’ll save it as soon as we hang up. Anyway, what’s up?”

“Remember that pet adoption center you pointed out to me?” You acknowledge her with a hum. “I was thinking about getting a cat…Wanna tag along?”

“Absolutely! I was just about to shower though so I can be ready in an hour or so.”

“Perfect! I’ll text you when I’m outside.”

The two of you say your goodbyes and you keep your promise of saving her number, typing in her name and hesitating on the emoji keyboard. Realizing you’d spent far too much time contemplating this, you simply save what you have and hurry back to the bathroom, something in your brain urging you to not keep her waiting.

Within an hour, she sends you a text in all caps and a smiley face that tells you she’s arrived, and you can’t hide the fact that you’re surprised when you come outside and she’s waiting on the passenger side of the car.

“Hey! How are you?” she greets cheerily as she approaches you with a hug, and you shiver when her hand touches your lower back. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m okay.” You smile and thank her when she opens the door for you, attempting to collect yourself as she crosses to the driver’s side again. “I’m really happy to see you again.”

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you admit quietly as she pulls away from the curb. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, I just didn’t want to assume you were enjoying our time together as much as I was.”

She places her hand over yours while she glances at you, smiling as she squeezes your fingers and thigh lightly. You feel a rush of something traveling from the places she touched to your brain, only slightly aware of the fog settling in your mind.

“Well I didn’t want to be too enthusiastic about it and scare you away if all you wanted was friendship,” you clarify, meeting her eyes when she reaches a red light.

“I suppose you’re looking for more too, then.”

“I am now.”

The light turns green and she breaks eye contact, but the little smirk that follows tells you everything you need to know. At least, you hope it does.

“I think he’s the cutest one we’ve seen yet,” you comment about the kitten that hasn’t looked away from Wanda since you approached his area. “He seems really drawn to you, too.”

“How did he get the name ‘Baby Satan’?” Wanda inquires with an employee, who approaches you with a chuckle.

“It’s actually Baby Stan, because we used to have an adult cat named Stan as well and needed to tell the two apart. We were going to give him a new name but decided to leave that up to his new family.”

“It says ‘Baby Satan’ though,” you cosign with Wanda, gesturing to the extra A mixed in with the magnetic letters that spell the kitten’s name.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I don’t know how that got there,” the employee apologizes as she reaches over to fix the sign, and you watch her freeze as Wanda touches her arm.

“Don’t be sorry. Keep it; I want to adopt him.”

“Okay, right this way,” the employee mumbles as she turns awkwardly and stumbles over to a desk, and as the two of you follow her, you look back to see Baby Satan still staring at the woman beside you.

“What was that about?” you speak up finally once you’re in the car with her new furry friend, and Wanda frowns at you while fastening her seatbelt.

“What?”

“Why did that employee react to you like that? You touched her and she started acting really weird after.”

“Oh, Kim’s fine!” she assures you as she fixes her mirror before pulling out of the parking lot. “I actually asked her about that while you were looking at scratching posts and she said I’d overstepped her boundaries and made her uncomfortable. Don’t worry, I apologized and everything’s good again.”

“She told you her name?”

“She was wearing a name tag, babe.”

Babe...that’s new. Still, the sudden nickname doesn’t completely distract you from the fact that you’re certain there was no name tag on Kim’s uniform. You’re debating with yourself about bringing this up when you notice her heading toward Lane County.

“Are you taking me to your house?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” She glances at you and over her shoulder toward Baby Satan before turning back to the road. “I figured I could introduce both of my kittens to the place they’ll be spending a lot of time in.”

Her fingers brush over your knee as “my kittens” leaves her lips, and you’re almost embarrassed when your hips involuntarily buck slightly. Noticing the small change in your behavior, she takes advantage of your head turned toward your own window and allows her instincts to continue driving while she stares at you, placing her palm on your thigh and rubbing circles on the fabric covering it that brings her closer and closer to your core.

“Home, sweet home,” Wanda announces as she pulls her wandering hand away to park the car, jumping out a second later and grabbing her furry son from the backseat. “Hey there, Baby S.”

You step out of the car in a similar fashion of pulling yourself out of a swimming pool, taking in the fresh air and trying to relax yourself as you follow her into the apartment building. The hallways reflect the quiet and clean neighborhood as you make your way into the elevator and up to the 6th floor, suddenly entering the most empty apartment you’ve ever seen.

Of course there’s furniture: a couch with a TV mounted on the nearest wall, a dining table with a set of matching chairs, a few stools placed at the island and kitchen appliances that are shiny and new. But there isn’t any personal artwork, posters, books or even just a lamp that you could tell Wanda purchased herself with one glance.

“Are you staying in an AirBNB or something?” you ask as she carefully places Baby Satan’s carrier next to the couch, and she chuckles.

“I guess technically it was one before I moved in, but I’ve been here for two years.”

“Okay...so where are your pictures?”

“What?”

“Where are your pictures?” you repeat, maintaining a steady voice despite the expression she gives you as she faces you again. “Pictures of your family, friends, you as a child?”

“If you knew my family, you’d understand why you don’t see them here.” She startles you by practically growling her words but you press further.

“Okay but you also said you love plants and we’re the only living things in here.” You step back to put more space between you while quiet shuffling noises are heard inside the carrier. “What’s really going on here?”

You can easily spot the shift in Wanda’s emotions: going from defensive, arms crossed and eyes glaring to resigned with slightly sagging shoulders and a defeated sigh.

“Fine, you got me.” She bends over to pick up the carrier again and passes you on her way to the door, stopping a few feet away. “If you’re serious about pursuing a relationship with me, then I should probably show you my real home.”

“I don’t know...”

“Come on, love.” She comes just close enough to bring your hand into hers and a tingle spreads through your body, causing you to pull away but her grip only tightens. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you, and this is the only time I’ve lied.”

You find yourself being drawn closer to her, and an almost familiar feeling washes over you when her thumb begins rubbing gentle circles into your jaw. The metal on her ring is so cold it almost burns upon contact, yet you nuzzle into her more with each pass along your skin.

“Don’t you want to be good for me without being forced to your knees first?”

If the fog surrounding your consciousness wasn’t so thick, you might’ve been shocked by this side of her, so calm yet demanding you serve her. But the hand on your jaw seemed to cover every inch of your body and sink into your nervous system, forcing you to fall into her and let her lead you back to the car with a simple arm around your waist. You’re buckled into the passenger seat again and a slightly blurry grin greets you from behind the wheel seconds later.

“I can’t wait to make you mine.”

Your head falls against the car window as she drives to the edge of Lane County, and your altered vision picks up on businesses turning into isolated suburbs into grassy fields into forests. You travel along narrow, winding roads past the tallest of trees with very few spaces in between, and your hazy state of mind prevents you from panicking when Wanda turns onto a dirt path that doesn’t even seem to be safe for bicycles. The wheels bump along the forest floor until she comes to a stop just outside of a two foot dwelling, similar to a cave.

Once the two of you are out of the car again, she holds your hand with her free one until you reach the cave, instructing you to sit in front of it while she does the same. She places her palm on the door, and her rings seem to come alive as they interact with it for a few moments before it swings open and the three of you are sent flying through a tunnel. You land with a groan on the hard floor and dust yourself off as you carefully stand, any questions dying in your throat as you face Wanda again, now standing before you in her true form.

“Welcome home.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #frosty's dark!fics

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timextoxhajima · 3 years

Text

Boundary [Dana’s 700 Special]

Track: Fever - Enhypen / TiO - Zayn / Close - Nick Jonas, Tove Lo

➣ Member: my og bias owo

➣ Genre: idol! ju x stylist! [fem] reader

➣ Warnings: swear words and if you squint, some smut

➣ Word Count: i’m like 100% sure it’ll be as long as accelerate [i was wrong it’s nowhere near but whatever]

➣ A/N: Thank you for 700 followers. You are all nothing but amazing ♡

➣ Taglist: @taesty-wander-lust @tbzzhoe @suzy-rainbow

He’s going to be the absolute death of me.

The thought is loud in your head, and you were almost sure you would’ve blurted it out had the filming studio been empty. Breaking Dawn was blasting from the speakers behind the MV director, experimenting with some strange angles that you’ve never seen any other MV director try with the group before.

If you thought Reveal was dangerous, this might be worse.

“Okay! Let’s do that hook into the chorus first and we’ll see how that angle goes!”

“Breaking Dawn, I see-”

“Cut! Juyeon-” The director snorts while staring at the monitor from the camera. “That was great but um, we’ll need to rate the video if we release this one.”

Never mind. It is worse.

“Yah, Juyeon!”

“Ahh... seriously?”

“You already have enough screen time, why are you so greedy?!”

The members crowd around Juyeon and shove him playfully as the director films that part from the monitor, and brings his cellphone over to the group to see. You can barely hear the music from the phone, given how far you were standing from the filming area.

The group of 11 burst into loud yells and frustrated groans, with Younghoon and Chanhee giving their iconic ‘OoO’ faces to Juyeon. The main man chuckles, embarrassed, and shakes his head while waving it off.

“I didn’t intend to make it so suggestive, sorry!”

“It’s alright, that was great, really!” The director assures him. “It’s just that we can’t release that without rating the MV, and you guys don’t really have that kind of reputation yet so, we won’t do that for you guys now. But anyways, can we get a 10 minute break and we’ll pick up where we left off?”

The boys celebrate in unison, Eric immediately rushing off for the washroom, some members going to the staff to ask for their phones, others going for the monitor to check their progress and the remaining approaching their stylists for appearance maintenance.

So, when Juyeon approaches you with that sly-mixed-with-shame smile, you can’t help but to shake your head at him.

“Really? He asks you to go all out and you look like you want to eat the camera,” Pulling open your little kit, you set it on the table next to you. You pull out the comb and hairspray and start adjusting his hair again - all that dancing’s pushed some strands out of its rightful position.

“Aw, so you agree that I looked good enough?”

“What?” The pitch is higher than expected, but you hope your feigned annoyance camouflages the pinch of jealousy. “Please! The director said it’ll be rated!”

Juyeon laughs, standing with his feet a little more apart than natural for you to have easier access to his hair.

“Well, you’re the one who did my hair and makeup. If it’s anybody to blame, wouldn’t it be you?”

His words halt the sharp end of your comb in his hair, and you poke it into his scalp for good measure while puffing out your cheeks. He chuckles it off.

“Excuse you, sir, Cre.Ker gave me a color palette and a set of reference pics. Ever since they cracked the code with you with Reveal, they just won’t stop with this genre of style on you.”

“I mean... I definitely prefer my current style over what they did to me in Boy.”

The memory cooks up a bunch of images in your head, and you fail to stop the giggle that runs off your tongue when you return the comb to the kit.

“Aw, come on, that was cute,” Picking up a brow pencil, you fill in the tiny fade-out. “You were, what? 19? No reason for you to look as raunchy as you do now.”

“It’s a pity you only met me just before I become ‘raunchy’.”

“Why? I mean, ‘Juyeon’s not a good boy’ though. Raunchy’s closer to that than what you did pre-Reveal.”

“I meant it!” Juyeon widens his eyes and his brows shift up his forehead just as the tip of the brow pencil lifts off his skin. “I’m happy Cre.Ker’s letting us show what we want to.”

“And I’m happy for you too,” You finish up on his foundation where it’s starting to wear off. “But one day, you’re gonna cross a line and break some hearts.”

Juyeon smiles as you cap on all your equipment and close your kit. Resting one hand on your hip, you quickly give his hair one last poke before he resumes his normal standing position.

“What if I only want to break specific hearts though?”

A frown befalls your face and you forge an ugly look by crooking your lips. “What? Was that an attempt to flirt? Please stop,” Waving him off, you turn and pick up your kit, walking away on your heels as Juyeon tails you.

He’s just practising flirting on me at this point. Best friends and best friends for what? Get MY heart broken? PLEASE.

“Flirt with Kevin if you want, he’ll give you better advice,” You turn to the film area and sure enough, Kevin was busy twerking into the camera and Changmin’s just face palming himself.

“Oi Kevin! Stahb it!” You yell across the space and Changmin points to you, turning to yell at Kevin.

“Yah, even y/n’s telling you to stop!”

Chuckling, you turn into the dressing room as another hair stylist finishes with Sangyeon in the mirror.

“Hello sir, you look kinda tired today, are you resting well?”

“Don’t get me started. Schedule’s packed into June,” Sangyeon subtly shakes his head, but his stylist holds his cheeks and shifts his face back to face the mirror.

“Sangyeon, please face the mirror. It’s not my fault if your hair gets messed up again,” The hair stylist grins as he picks up the hairspray.

“Sorry,” Sangyeon blinks at him and purses his lips. Juyeon crashes into the two seater-sofa in the corner of the dressing room and groans tiresomely, resting his head on the top surface of the headrest.

“Well, you should get some rest before Kingdom kicks in,” You place the kit on the dressing table and sit down in the two-seater next to Juyeon. “It’s not going to be an easy fight, y’know.”

“Right! You used to be ATEEZ’s hairstylist!” Sangyeon’s eyes widen and you can see him struggling not to turn to you directly instead of trying to find you in the strangest angle of the reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah. Those guys are intense, and I mean intense! Six out of eight are known for performance skills and the other two... one produces 99% of their tracks and the other belts out notes even I can’t reach.”

“You sound like you were sent from KQ to intimidate us-” Sunwoo struts in and waves an annoying finger in your face.

“I’m not-” Swatting his finger away, Juyeon leans forward and pulls Sunwoo’s hand. “I’m just saying for good measure- it’s not going to be easy. Stray Kids is also going to be great competition, not to mention iKON and-”

“AhHH, we get it!” Sunwoo shushes you, swinging his hand with Juyeon’s.

“No matter the outcome, you all need to know that you guys were stellar last year. I was new then, but it was absolutely stunning to watch you guys work and put so much effort into your performances.”

“Oh my God, yeah, you could not shut up about the Danger performance,” Sangyeon cooes, letting his stylist finally finishes and shifts to pack the hair equipment.

“I’ll bet it’s cause your best friend over here got the most screen time,” Sunwoo perks up a mischievous brow and smirks at you.

Juyeon’s eyes widen and stares at the youngest, “I didn’t get the most screen time.”

“If not you then who?” Sangyeon butts in as he stands.

“Uh... Changmin?”

Sunwoo and Sangyeon go quiet.

“Yah, you had a good amount of screen time too!” Sangyeon turns and blurts out at Sunwoo, playfully shoving him.

“Y’all are being loud in here,” Kevin’s head pops out from beyond the door frame, one of his stylists tagging behind him and struggling to pat down his clothes.

“No, tell me if Sunwoo had more screentime than Changmin in Danger from last year,” Sangyeon wraps an arm around Sunwoo and slowly walks him out.

“What? I don’t know, Changmin had the opening and the dance break...”

Sangyeon’s hairstylist follows closely, and by instinct, he shuts the door behind him, leaving you with Juyeon in the dressing room. It’s humid, from all the lights turned on in the room, and the leather seat wasn’t the most comfortable thing to sit on.

Turning to Juyeon, his eyes are gently shut, and frankly, he looked like he was about to fall asleep. The backrest of the sofa sinks when you lean back, mimicking his position.

“You have like four minutes left so don’t even think of falling asleep.”

“I’m not sleeping,” He offers a tiny smile on his lips, eyes still shut.

“Sure, you’re not.”

“Wake me up when the director needs me.”

“You wish,” The leather under your legs squeak when you push yourself off, but he sticks out an arm at your stomach and pushes you back down. Judging by the miniscule smirk on his face, he’s just messing with you. “What do you think you’re doing? I have a job to do and you have a music video to film.”

He remains quiet. Someone shouts at Eric outside.

“You’re being fucking weird today, sir,” You lift a hand and grab his arm to move it away, but he swiftly wraps his fingers around your wrist and yanks you forward instead.

Using your palms to keep the distance between your faces, you’re hovering above him now, breath on his upper lip. The sweat’s begun to collect in the lines of your palms, stuck to the arm rest by his side and the cushion he’s leaning on.

Your vision immediately darts to his face upon the bold move, and he’s got that slight smile prancing on his lips when he’s thinking of a joke or something funny and doesn’t want to say it. It’s been a good year of being Juyeon’s best friend (apart from the members), so you’ve definitely grown to know how to read him by his actions.

You sigh, rolling your eyes and removing your legs from next to his thighs.

“Juyeon-”

And then he cuts you off by holding you in position with his arm around his waist, challenging your knees to hold you up - because if they buckled, you’ll land right on top of him.

“What the Hell do you think you’re doing?”

Knock knock

“y/n, are you done with Juyeon’s hair? Filming’s resuming!”

There’s an awkward tension between you and Juyeon now, with his eyes wide open and staring into yours, arm still around your waist. But having his nose just inches away from yours and his breath breathing down on your philtrum feels so surreal. It feels like it’s a dream that you’ve failed to pull yourself out from.

He parts his lips, then purses them, and sighs through his nose.

“Yeah, she’s done! I’ll be out in like, two seconds!”

Your gaze finds his and you’re panicking when he’s moving again. Within two seconds, you’re flat on your back on the length of the couch - and this time, he’s holding himself above you.

“What the- I-”

“We’ll continue this later back at the company, I promise,” Then he rounds your cheek and presses a kiss into your cheekbone instead.

He pulls back, offering you his kind smile and a ruffle into your hair for good measure. Nothing in your body is working when you hear him shuffle for the door, and it clicks shut behind him, with Breaking Dawn already blasting in the filming space.

Sucking in a deep breath, you don’t realise how hard your heart is thumping in your head until you hear your own shaky exhale. You don’t know where to look, you can still feel his grip on your waist and his breath on your upper lip, and everything’s just a mess right now.

What the Hell just happened?

“Eric - Dior Shirt Size M...” You mumble under your breath, fingers gripping the pen to the clipboard so hard, your writing would probably leave a mark in the sheet under.

“I think this is the last luggage!” Younghoon’s stylist drags the black case in, lining it up with the last unopened one. “Need help?”

“Yeah, just open the luggage for me and separate Sangyeon’s clothes from Jacob’s, but otherwise I can handle it on my own.”

She nods, laying it down and unzipping it for the clothes to spew out. “How’s working here? It’s been over a year, right?”

“Mhm,” You glance at her, obviously tired. “It’s alright, but thanks to your advice since last year, I don’t think it could’ve been better.”

With a kind smile, she looks up at you, placing Sangyeon’s pants over his stack. “You’re experienced from ATEEZ, so it wouldn’t have been that hard anyway.”

She stands, resting her hands on her hips as you walk over, squatting to check Sangyeon and Jacob’s clothes.

“So... what’s going on with you and Juyeon?”

I’d like to know too.

“Huh?” You look up at her, head tilted to the side with a sneaky cocked brow. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, please- All the stylists here know you and Juyeon are like- hanky panky nowadays. Pretty sure the boys know too, or at least have some idea.”

A cackle runs your throat dry as you graduate your attention to Jacob’s clothes. “Is that what they’re calling it? ‘Hanky-panky’? Cute.”

“Do you know why they’re still in a meeting this late?”

“No, why would I bother? As long as I don’t lose my job, it’s none of my concern.”

“They’re in meeting to be informed that their dating ban has been lifted.”

Your grip around the pen tightens, but halts abruptly.

“Ah...” She sighs, contemplated with herself. “Cat got your tongue? Or should I say... Juyeon got your-”

Interrupted by the practise room door being pushed open, both of your attentions immediately flit to the new commotion.

“Oh, Juyeon! Meeting’s over?”

“Yeah,” He turns and closes the door behind him. His hair was still waxed up from the day’s schedule, makeup still on but fading. Clothes snug around his shoulders with his belt tight around his hips. Those stupid jeans never did you any good since day 1. “Sangyeon said he left a ring in one of the luggages so he sent me to come get it while he counsels Kevin for twerking.”

“y/n’s just going through Sangyeon’s wardrobe, so she might find something,” Your colleague’s begun to take small, insignificant steps towards the door, and your anxiety begins to increase with every inch she places between the two of you.

“Which is why I’m here,” He stuffs his hands into his back pockets.

“Right, right,” Now, she’s already got her hand on the door knob, glancing past him and at you with wide, glistening eyes. “I gotta go check your wardrobe for tomorrow so... I’mma go now, and uh... security comes by around 12am. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“What-” You blurt out, receiving a sharp, surprised look from Juyeon.

“Bye! Bye Juyeon!”

“Bye,” He waves.

“No, wait-”

And so, the door clicks shut behind her, and her shadow behind the translucent material disappears down the corridor.

The whir of the air-conditioner in the practice room fills all the awkward openings in the room, but all you can hear is the rapid thunk of your heart in your brain - as if that was even possible.

Thunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunk

“About earlier today-”

“Give me a moment while I look for Sangyeon’s ring. What does it look like?” Standing up too fast, your vision goes white and a second of dizziness throws you off your balance.

So, of course, Juyeon rushes over and holds you by your waist before your ankles or knees give way. The incessant blinking makes you wish you could actually pass out right now, because your weight’s in his arms and you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye.

“Iron deficiency much?” The corner of his lips curl up into his cheek before releasing you. “Do you need to sit down?”

Clearing your throat, you turn away first. “No, I-”

“Good, because I have some points to make and you’re gonna stop running away from them like you’re doing now.”

The change in tone runs chills down your spine and goosebumps erupt all over your skin - thank god you were wearing a blazer, safe from his observation.

“How have you tolerated it so much?” He folds his arms across his chest, tilting his head innocently but his eyes say otherwise. It’s always his eyes that tell a whole different story from the person he’s known to be.

“Y’know, being around me but you’re so calm and collected and I just...” He shakes his head, and to your dismay, takes a step forward - which drives you backwards. “How?”

His voice is too sing-songy. It’s too calm and collected for you because you’re about to barf up your dinner, which was a good 4 hours ago now. There’s nothing left in your stomach to barf up.

He takes another intimidating step and you wince at your inability to look him in the eye.

Another step back.

“Like, I know we’re friends but my God-” Shaking his head, he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip.

Another step forward. Another backward.

“It’s upsetting that I can look ‘raunchy’ and it doesn’t seem to do anything to you... But seeing you the way you are every other day makes me want to- just-”

Another step forward.

One more one back.

And your breath halts.

Your back hits the wall, the rear of your skull lined with the pillar.

Oh, no.

Gritting your teeth so tight, your jaw starts to ache and your temples are throbbing.

“I’m not seeing things, right?” A flicker of curiosity sparkles in his eyes when you muster up the courage to look at him - only to regret it instantly. “It’s not in my head that you feel the same way I do, right?”

“I... Don’t know what you’re talking about- You’re an idol... and I’m- I’m just your stylist and I-”

“‘Just my stylist’?” The comment forces his brows into a slight frown, before he lifts his hand and covers the bottom half of his face with his palm. “Rethink what you just said.”

Sucking in a deep breath, your chest wells with a horrid mix of desire and self-discipline. Those two don’t go well together.

“We can talk about this some other day,” You choose to say, dragging your body along the pillar in a bid to shift out from the wall-Juyeon sandwich like a fool. He lifts his arm and presses his palm into the pillar behind you, caging your poor, poor soul in this fateful corner of his stupid practice room.

“Juyeon, we need... boundaries in this industry. One scandal and it’ll destroy your career.”

“Boundaries?” He buckles his elbows, shrinking the gap between your noses. “Boundaries are for idols who still have a dating ban.”

Breathing down your nose, he’s too close for comfort. You can smell his cologne, the scent of his hair wax and see the bumps on his cheek under the faint layer of makeup. You don’t realise you’re trembling until he tilts his head ever so slightly, free hand reaching up to your chin to steady your face.

“Stop running from me,” Shaking his head painstakingly subtly, he whispers into your lips. “You were mine from the start and you know that.”

The adrenaline rush through your nerves sets off fireworks all over you when he slots his body against yours, lips fitted with yours like puzzle pieces; against the wall, with his palms on your cheeks. There was no care or consideration with how much strength he was channeling into this kiss - it feels so pent-up, so frustrated. Without warning, your body resigns as you circle your arms around his shoulders.

Gripping the rim of his collar in your hands, his hands drop to your waist and holds you closer, if it were even possible. A million thoughts race through your head - and at the same time, none. This moment was something you didn’t even know you needed.

Juyeon’s hands roam the small of your back as he keeps you against the wall, relaxing into the kiss and sighing into it instead.

This bliss comes in the form of him. Him who provides you all the sinful wants deep down inside you.

But this bliss doesn’t last, for the practice room door swings open violently and tears Juyeon off you.

“I told you to find my ring, not hook up with your crush!”

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Left Behind - Chapter 6 - Once a Promise, Always a Promise.

Gif was made by my official gif maker friend @abimess

Summary: The one where you lived in the apartment under the Maximoff family in Sokovia, or, your journey as a Sokovian civilian to Avenger.

Warnings: (+16) Violence, fighting, cursing, civil war environments, abuse of power, assault, torture, underage kissing, psychological torture, substance use, mention of assault/fighting of children, smut, kissing, teasing, insinuation of sexual and moral harassment, verbal offenses.

Words: 4.753k

A/N> It's been 84 years... I just hope someone still reads this haha Let me know what you think

All Works Masterlist || Read on AO3 || Series Masterlist

//-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-//

Chapter 6 - Once a Promise, Always a Promise.

When you wake up, you get your ass beaten up by an unknown woman.

You awaken all at once, advancing against the woman who was watching you sleep. Her surprise only lasts a second, however, as the next she returns your blow and knocks you to the ground, a gun pointed straight at your face.

Wide-eyed, you realize where you are and raise your hands.

"Sorry, sorry." You can quickly. "I thought I was in the lab again. Who the hell are you by the way?"

The woman raises her eyebrow at you.

"Cap, get over here before I shoot her."

And the next second, a blond man is running into the area of the ship where you are, looking worried.

"Let's all calm down, okay?" He asks as he sees the gun extended, and waits for the woman to put it down. You sigh lightly, rising to stand up.

"I'm sorry I attacked you, Miss." You ask as soon as you are on your feet, and massage your shoulder, which hit the ground hard when she knocked you down.

"It's fine, you just got beat up anyway." She teases, making you give a short laugh.

You were about to ask if they could let you off the ship anywhere, but a low groan of pain beside you caught your attention.

Just then you noticed the man lying on the stretcher next to you a few feet away, a large wound in his rib. You are also able to notice the rest of the ship, there is a man piloting a few meters away, and two men sitting further ahead, talking to each other.

"Hey, I can help." You stated immediately, but as soon as you moved, the woman stood in front of you, looking at you with suspicion and defiance, and you swallowed dryly. "I-I can heal him." You clarified, but the woman only changed her posture when the man next to you touched her forearm.

"Can you do that?" He asks you, and you nod. You wait for the woman to take a step back to approach the man on the stretcher.

"Hey, are you guys sure of this?" The man lying down asked uncomfortably, and you raise your hands in the air.

"Hi, I'm Y/N, I won't hurt you, I promise. "You guarantee it." Can I heal your injuries?" You ask and wait for him to confirm.

The wound is deep, but you have dealt with much worse.

"How did you do that?"

"It was nothing." You say as you put your hands down. His skin was completely intact again.

"This sure is cooler than lightning, huh, Thor?" Commented the blond as he sat down on the stretcher, clearly feeling better. The long-haired man at the back of the ship looks at you curiously as he stands up, and when he notices his colleague completely healed, he looks impressed.

"This sure is an interesting skill for a mortal." He says to you, and you don't know exactly what to make of those words, but you don't have time to comment, because he is already approaching to introduce himself. "My name is Thor Odinson, god of thunder."

You frown.

"G-god of thunder?" You repeat confused. "Sorry, is that some kind of joke?"

The woman next to you giggles, moving to sit on the stretcher next to the man you healed. The blond man in front of you looks slightly offended, but his expression softens immediately.

"I understand that at first, mortals may be incredulous at such a..."

"No, I just thought the title was funny." You interrupt the blond man, surprising him. "You guys are the Avengers, aren't you? My master has already told me about you."

“Your master?”

It is the other blond guy in the blue uniform who asks. You mentally repress yourself.

"Damn, sorry." You say. "It's what I used to call the soldiers and doctors who gave me orders."

"Your files say that you disappeared in Sokovia when you were younger, and what we found at the base were the records of the experiments they did on you." He adds, and you twiddle your fingers nervously. "I just want to make sure you're not going to try to bring the plane down with everyone inside."

The attempted joke is enough to make you smile, but you are beginning to feel overwhelmed. You really were free. After all this time, the idea seemed almost absurd.

You try to control your emotion at once, and the man seems to notice, because his expression softens immediately.

"Hey, come have a seat." He asks, signaling to one of the empty chairs, and you obey. "My name is Steve Rogers, and I promise you're safe now. Hydra will never hurt you again."

You nod frantically, feeling the tears in your eyes. But you try to normalize your breathing, not wanting to cry in front of strangers.

"I'm sorry, I just... I've just been trying to get away for so long." You confess next, wiping your eyes quickly. "It's weird to think I succeeded."

"We are going back to the Avengers tower now. Is there anyone you would like to get in touch with?" He asks, and his words make your stomach sink.

"Yes." You say. "But I have no idea where they are."

"Who? Your family?"

You give a short laugh.

"Yeah, I guess so. They were..." You start trying to remember exactly. You didn't even know how long it had been since the time you saw the twins at the Hydra base. You had no idea if they were alive, but you wanted to believe they were. Taking a deep breath, you continue. "They were my friends. Wanda and Pietro, we grew up together. They... I saw them once. When I still had the serum in my head. I..."

Seeing your difficulty in organizing your thoughts, Steve interrupts you by touching your forearm.

"It's okay." He says. "We'll find the twins."

"So they really are alive?"

Steve smiles.

"Yes." He answers and you feel your body relax all at once. "They ran away, I imagine they were scared, but we'll find them."

You gasp, unable to control your tears. Neither Steve nor the rest of the Avengers seem to care.

When you calm down, Steve introduces you to the rest of the team.

You are not exactly happy to meet Tony Stark. The mention of his last name makes you frown, because you know it was a Stark bomb that blew up your home at Sokovia, but when you accuse Tony, he seems really upset.

"Well, I guess you can get on the list of people who hate me then." He grumbles and you cross your arms, the whole team sensing the tension in the air.

"You could at least apologize for blowing up half of Sokovia with your weapons." You retort angrily, and the man rolls his eyes, not getting up from the armchair you were in.

"Sure, no problem. I'm sorry, kiddo. Happy?"

You clench your jaw, but before you can say anything, Steve steps forward.

"Tony, try not to be a jerk, okay?" The captain speaks and the other man lets out a wry laugh. "Have at least some respect for the girl's story."

"I have respect, Captain." He assures as he stands up, looking impatient. "What I don't have is time to revisit the past while our enemies get more and more powerful." He says and you frown in confusion. "I've already banned weapons production in the industries, and we've already taken on Hydra in that place. Now we can move on, because I need to get back to the compound and understand exactly what that thing is."

He speaks and finishes by signaling to the opposite side, and it is only then that you notice the shining scepter on the far side of the room and let out a surprised exclamation, taking three steps backwards.

"How did you guys get this?" You ask horrified and the team looks at you curiously.

"Have you seen the scepter before?"

"Of course I have!" You reply. "That's what gave me the healing! The damn stone went through my chest."

Thor steps forward, looking at you in surprise.

"So Hydra were able to decipher the scepter?

You laugh humorlessly.

"If by decipher you mean press the scepter against my chest while preening me in an iron chair, then yes." You reply, but take a deep breath to calm yourself. "A yellow stone came off as soon as the scepter touched me. And well, it went right through my skin. When I woke up, I could heal. But whatever it is, it killed all the soldiers who were holding me."

Thor seems to consider your words as Steve tells you that he is sorry for what you went through in Hydra.

Suddenly you remember where you first saw him.

"The man on the bridge!" You exclaimed, surprising him, but you were getting your memories gradually, and your heart was racing. "You are Captain America.... My god, where is Bucky?"

"Great, another fan of the metal arm." Tony comments sarcastically, but no one seems to care.

Steve looks at you with a frown.

"Is he safe? Is he free? Can I see him?" You ask promptly next, and Natasha chuckles.

"Hey, calm down." Steve asks and you swallow dryly, trying not to feel so overwhelmed with so many memories coming back at once. "How do you know Bucky?"

You blink in surprise.

"He...he didn't talk about me?"

It takes a second, and then Steve's eyes widen.

“Oh my god, you’re the guardian!

"I am what now?"

Steve lets out an incredulous laugh.

"The guardian." He repeats as if you were going to understand what he meant.

Natasha clears her throat.

"Captain, perhaps you'd better explain." She asks and Steve gestures quickly.

"We've been looking for you for months." Steve then adds, causing you to widen your eyes in surprise. "Bucky he... he's been trying to find you since he escaped. But he didn't know your name. All he knew was the nickname you got from the soldiers. The golden guardian of death. It's been our only tip to find you."

"I thought it was just golden guardian." Clint adds next, Nat makes a noise of agreement.

"No, I'm sure it was just Guardian of Death." Thor comments, but you are barely listening to the teasing, feeling your thoughts racing.

Steve raises his hands to your shoulders.

"Thank you so much for saving Bucky." He says before hugging you. You feel your neck heat up at the sudden contact, but do your best to reciprocate.

Steve lets you go then, smiling.

"He's going to be so happy to see you."

"Where is he?"

"At the compound." Steve replies. "He cannot attend field missions, it's part of the pardon. It's too much bureaucracy to explain now.."

"I think he's just lazy." Tony adds wryly, making the Avengers giggle.

And Steve's smile dies briefly.

"What's with you today, anyway, Stark?"

Tony sighs impatiently, finally rising from his armchair.

"I'm sorry if I'm not reacting in the way you consider proper captain, but I'm concerned about getting to work soon." He says as he moves toward you two. “I need to find out what this thing really is.”

"No, Stark, you won't touch this." It is Thor who announces, and all the avengers look genuinely surprised.

"I beg your pardon?" Stark retorted, but Thor didn't hesitate before he looked at you next.

"Describe to me again how you got your healing, mortal."

You sigh lightly.

"They locked me in an iron chair and brought the scepter." You narrated. "But they lie me on the chair next, and I could only feel the metal against my skin, and then I saw a yellow light. Something went right through my chest, and then right through." You say. "I blacked out for a second, the room was completely empty like a vision. When I blinked, it was back, but all the soldiers holding me were dead. And then they knocked me out."

"Before you said you saw a yellow stone?"

You nodded in agreement.

"I dreamed of this memory for several days." You clarify. "I was back in the room, but this time I watched myself. I saw when they put the scepter to my chest, and when the golden stone came out and went through my skin. It was the stone that released the wave of energy that killed the soldiers .I don't know why I didn't die too."

"A single blow that killed a group of soldiers at once." Thor mutters more to himself than to the rest of the teams. "It's decided then, no mortal must touch this. It's clearly far more power than anyone should have."

"This is ridiculous." Thor accused the next moment, making the team look at him curiously. "You can't just deny knowledge about something like that and..."

"Why are you so insistent on this, Tony?" It's Steve who asks suspiciously. Tony sighs, and gives a short laugh.

"You guys are unbelievable, you know." He says. "I'm trying to find new alternatives to our problems."

"What problems?" Steve asks with a confused grimace, and Tony rolls his eyes, looking nervous.

"Our enemies, Captain!" He snarls. "In case you haven't noticed, it hasn't been too long since we faced an army of robots coming from a hole in the sky!" He accuses. "We don't have the power to face this kind of thing. The scepter is exactly what I need to prevent the worst from happening."

"Where did that come from, Tony?" Steve retorted confused.

Stark gave a short laugh, rolling his eyes.

"I don't have time for this." He grimaced and moved to grab the scepter, but Thor stood in the way, arms crossed. "Really?" Tony impatiently charges, but Thor doesn't move. Stark clenches his jaw before declaring angrily. "I had a vision, okay? I saw all of us, defeated. Defeated because we didn't have the power to win. And I... I could have prevented it."

The avengers look as confused as you are, and remain silent. Tony sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

"It was New York again, but this time the enemy won." He continues, visually upset. When he lifted his face in Steve's direction, his look was angry, but his eyes had tears in it. "And you told me that I could have stopped it."

“I wouldn't do that.” Steve says. “If we ever lose, I wouldn't blame you, Tony.”

Tony gives a short laugh.

“Wouldn’t you really?” He retorts. “I’m pretty sure you would, cap.”

Steve takes a step forward, his eyes soften as he looks at his friend.

“I promise you, Tony. If we lose, we lose together.” He declares. “That’s what being an Avengers means. I’m sorry if I was not clear before, and made you feel any different than this or…”

“Stop it!” Tony angrily interrupts. You flinch because you think you saw a familiar red light in his eyes. “Cut this sentimental crap, Steve. I’m just trying to do what’s necessary here.”

“Back off, Stark!” You order as you noted how he has moved his wand to the scepter, he seems surprised by the action too. You move in his direction as he takes two steps back, looking irritated. You gave him no time to answer however, as you raise your hands over his head and touch his forehead with your fingers before he can complain.

Immediately, you can feel the remnants of magic on Tony's head. You don't recognize it at first, but as your own magic removes the other energy, you sigh slightly. It feels familiar, but you don't know why. The energy is still harmful though, probably due to the intention of the one who cast it, but you manage to clean it all up.

You succeed because you coordinate your magic to wipe the other energy like you usually clear and heal wounds, and it seems to work, because Tony raises his hands to your wrist, his wide-eyed eyes soften and he looks almost startled.

"I'm sorry." He asks and swallows dryly. You remove your fingers from his forehead completely, watching with curiosity. He takes a deep breath, blinking several times as if waking up. "I'm sorry, everyone, I... Damn, it was like a horrible dream. I need to lie down for a minute."

And with that he leaves.

You don't ask questions anymore, because Steve is going after him, and you are trying to figure it out why you still feel the unknown magic tingling at your fingertips, as if it is trying to merge with yours.

//-//

You cry when you see Bucky again.

He lets out a disbelieving laugh, and then he's running up, hugging you tight.

Your conversation is long and intense, and is almost mostly made up of gratitude.

The other Avengers seem very happy to see the whole interaction, especially Steve.

Tony isolates himself in his room as soon as you arrive, and Thor looks upset. He and Bruce discuss something, and then they go to talk to Tony.

You don't pay attention because you are listening to Bucky tell you about getting all his memories back, and living with the Avengers since you helped him. He was now free from Hydra's control, and was pardoned by the state on condition that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

Nat also added in his narrative the information that he and Steve were "making fondue" and the joke made him laugh with red cheeks but you didn't understand what that meant.

You are very happy to see him, but you can't help but think that he was not the one you wanted to find when you were free.

When he introduces you to the rest of the compound, and to your room, you hug him in appreciation, and you both exchange a knowing look, finally acknowledging that you are safe.

//-//

Your first night in the compound is a strange one.

After meeting the whole team, who were polite despite having fought you a few hours ago, you received a full meal and then locked yourself in your room.

But you were not used to having such a soft bed, not even before Hydra, so sleeping seemed kind of impossible.

Figuring that the Avengers wouldn't mind you taking a late night stroll, you left your room.

"Are you lost, girl?" A female voice suddenly sounded making you jump in fright. It was Natasha Romanoff, or as she introduced herself earlier, Black Widow.

"S-sorry, ma'am." You retorted clumsily, and the woman raised her eyebrows at you. "I can't sleep."

"First, I'm not old, so don't call me ma'am." She commented wryly, and you tried to smile. "Second, I know the feeling. If you want, I can distract you."

Your last social conversation with a woman happened a long time ago, and then you find yourself asking:

"Are you inviting me to have sex?"

Nat lets out a surprised laugh, crossing her arms.

"Where did that come from?" she asks, and you scratch your neck lightly.

"Sorry, I learned how to talk to women from television shows that Hydra soldiers watched in the labs. Bad references. What did you mean by distracting me?"

Nat laughed, impressed by your words.

"I meant like have some tea and tell a story." She clarifies, not sounding the least bit upset. You put your hands in the pockets of the pajamas you've been given.

"R-right. That sounds more appropriate." You mumble with flushed cheeks, eliciting another laugh from the woman. As you begin walking side by side, she comments.

"You know, I think I'm going to have a lot of fun with you around here. You are just as awkward as Steve and Bucky."

You end up hearing a story about agents in Budapest, but it seems Nat doesn't tell the whole story. It's nice, though, you missed talking to someone.

"That thing you did earlier with Tony, that was really cool." Nat remarks after a pause in silence.

You take a sip of your tea after shrugging, but she seems inquisitive.

"How did you know it was Maximoff who messed with his head?"

You almost choke at the sudden mention of the name and Nat's watchful gaze makes it impossible to disguise. You sigh.

"I... They are my friends." You confess looking down at the cup, "Or they used to be."

Raising your gaze to Nat again, she only seems curious to know, and you shrug slightly, deciding to trust her.

"We grew up together in Sokovia." You count twirling your fingers on the handle of your cup, "They were the only family I had in the orphanage. And well, it was for them that I broke into a Hydra building."

Nat listens to your story intently, and you swallow dryly before continuing.

"When they captured me, the serum, it... well, it didn't exactly leave me conscientious." You try to explain. "It was like pushing all my memories away, my mind would become completely empty."

“"Is that what they did to Bucky?" Nat questions and you shake your head.

"No, they used electric shock on Bucky." You return with a grimace. "With me, they couldn't hurt me permanently, so they needed something that would make me obey without me being able to heal. It was like being drunk, I guess, only much worse."

“I’m sorry.”

"It 's fine.” You say with a sad smile. “I was dumb enough to go there, i knew the risks.”

“Don’t say that.” Nat asks with a serious voice. “It’s was not your fault they torture kids.”

"And whose fault is it, then?" You retorted, upset, with yourself more than with Nat or anyone else. "My friends for being stubborn idiots? Of Stark for throwing a bomb in my building? I'm tired of looking for reasons to justify what happened to me. Nothing is enough, and I just want to see my friends."

Nat sighs lightly, and raises a hand on the table to reach for yours. You want to hold back the tears, but they are already falling before you can do so.

"I promise we will find your family." She assures you tenderly, and you feel your heart soar at the possibility.

You nod in understanding, taking a deep breath to stop crying.

Nat squeezes your hand, and it takes a moment for you to speak again.

"Wanda." You begin, and almost sob. It has been a long time since you have spoken that name. "She... She must have gotten her powers the same way I did." You say trying to remember everything you witness in Hydra at that moment. "I remember the soldiers talking about the twins being the only ones to survive the stone besides me."

"From Shield records, we know she can manipulate energy and Pietro can run really fast." Nat informs as she releases your hand. She sits thoughtfully for a moment."Maybe because you all got the magic through the same source, you can heal what she can do to Tony's mind. But that's not really my area, maybe you should talk to Thor as well."

You sigh lightly, wiping away the remainder of the tears falling on your face.

"I will." You say. "But I want to find Wan-the twins first." You correct yourself quickly, hoping Nat doesn't notice your flushed cheeks. She does, but says nothing.

"Try to get some rest." She asks as she picks up the teacups. "We have a party coming up, and then Thor is supposed to return to Asgard. I imagine you will want to have a little chat with Bucky before you return to Sokovia."

"I would go back to Sokovia right now if you ask me." You mutter making Nat chuckle lightly. "But I don't want to disturb any of you. I've waited for a long time, I can wait a little longer."

When Nat turns around after putting the glasses in the sink, she has a soft expression.

"You are not a nuisance here, kid." She assures with a smile. "We've just been caught a little by surprise with a new person, but it will be a pleasure to help you find the twins." She says and then has a mischievous expression. "I shouldn't tell you yet, but Steve is pretty excited about the whole thing. He wants you and the twins to join the team eventually."

"Really?" You ask in surprise and Nat just mumbles in agreement, still smiling.

She turns around on the countertop and before she leaves, she turns to you.

"If you ask my opinion, you seem to care a lot about both of them." She says. "I think that no matter how much time has passed, or if they are fighting on opposite sides, she will be happy to see you."

You swallow dryly, looking away.

Nat smiles one last time before leaving and you twiddle your fingers nervously, sitting for a while at the table before returning to your room.

With much to think about, you are surprised that you fall asleep almost instantly as you lie down.

//-//

The Hydra serum is still in your system.

You realize it in a rather embarrassing way actually.

After waking up on the couch, you went to the kitchen.

Bucky tells you that all the team is having a meeting and they will join you two soon, so you just lay against the wall while he reads the newspaper out loud for you.

The Avengers stay in the meeting room for a long time, and don't seem very pleased when they leave, but Tony seems intrigued.

You are surprised that he comes to talk to you as soon as he sees you.

"I didn't thank you for yesterday, kid." He says with a smile. "Whatever you did took away that bad feeling. Now I can work without having to hide that I'm trying to help."

You didn't quite know what to respond, but it didn't matter because Tony was patting you on the shoulder before smiling contentedly at the rest of the team.

"While I figure out a way to decipher the stone, which won't be hard since I'm incredibly smart." He begins his speech, causing the group to let out debauched laughter. "You guys can get busy with whatever old people do for fun. Except you Thunderlord, I'm going to need your help in the lab."

"Wow, Tony Stark asking for help." Thor teases and you watch the interaction with a smile on your lips, moving to join the table. "What a little magic doesn't do to your head, heh?"

"Don't tease me, Thundercat. I'll throw you out of this building, and you won't get any breakfast." He says with false seriousness and you laugh lightly as you pour yourself a cup of coffee. "Hey, kid, give me some too?"

"Ja, Master." You respond mechanically, perhaps even a little sleepily. The Avengers look at you with curiosity and confusion as they see you mechanically pour the coffee, and hand it to Tony, who looks shocked.

"He is not your master, kid." It is Natasha who breaks the silence, and you blink in confusion looking around for a moment.

"R-right." You say. "Sorry about that, Tony. Old habits I guess."

Tony thanks you for the drink, and you think the subject is going to die, but then Natasha keeps looking at you.

"Hey, Y/N, come over here." She asks and you move immediately. Shit. Natasha raises her eyebrow. "Take two steps to the left." Your body obeys. “Now to the right.” She asks and you obey again. This is terrible. The widow looks at you impressed.

"That looks bad." Tony quickly mocks before waving for Thor to accompany him to the lab, justifying that they should get to work soon.

Nat continues to look at you incredulously, but then Steve gets up from the table as well and snaps his fingers in front of your eyes, making you jump in fright slightly. He assumes a worried expression afterwards.

"You are obeying our orders as if we were your masters." He says. "Let's go see Bruce in the lab, he'll want to run some tests."

When you reach the lab, and Steve explains to Bruce what happened at breakfast, you are not surprised that he puts needles in your arm. You hope the news will be good when he finishes assessing your blood.

//-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-////-//

Tag List> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @aimezvousbrahms // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife

#wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x yn #wanda x reader #Left Behind #wanda maximoff #avengers fanfic #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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irrelevantwriter · 3 years

Text

House Call

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, reader being scared and horny, Rio’s BDE (y'all know what's up)

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Part 1. Rio shows up unannounced to talk business. Among other things.

A/N: It’s here...it’s happening. It took me a whole 2.5 seconds to become obsessed with Rio once I started watching GG. Ya’ll know how I roll. Anyway, this is me just dipping my toe into the water. I didn't get too deep with a plot (spoiler alert: there isn't any). It’s essentially just reader-insert into the show’s current plot, but with some smut thrown in. For fun. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Added a Part 2! Read it here.

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

***********************

“You okay?”

The sound of your friend’s concerned voice filled the line, pulling you back to the moment and the conversation you’d been engaged in before you’d burnt yourself in the spray of hot water.

“Yeah, just washing dishes.” You explained, cradling your cell between your shoulder and cheek as you maneuvered dirty dishes under the spout of water.

“So the meeting with the principal? How’d it go?” Rachel asked, getting you back on track.

You sighed, beginning to scrub at a stubborn coffee stain left behind on one of your favorite mugs.

“Fine. The kids are still having a hard time with the divorce so it’s…” You paused, unsure of how to describe the child-like brooding your son and daughter had taken to participating in since you’d separated from their father.

“Tense? Difficult? Weird?” Rachel listed off helpfully.

“All of the above.” You deadpanned, still scrubbing.

“You take the rest of the day off?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta figure out what I’m going to do with these kids. Paul said he’d come over later to talk it over.”

“How incredibly thoughtful of him.” Rachel replied, sarcasm and disdain dripping from her words.

“Well, it’s a start. And as much as I’d like to tell him to fuck off, I can’t. He’s still their dad.” You explained for the hundredth time, feeling the stress of your situation with your ex starting to creep into your body. Your shoulders felt stiff and your head began to throb with a dull ache. It was a familiar reaction these days. One you loathed.

You opened your mouth to steer the conversation elsewhere when the doorbell rang, chiming throughout the empty expanse of your home.

“Paul?” Rachel asked, obviously hearing the alert of someone’s company over the phone.

“I guess. Look, I’ll call you later.” You said with another sigh, this one more tired than annoyed. You gave up on the stained mug and moved onto drying it, shutting the water off as you did.

“Okay. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” You ended the call, aware that you were short with her, but unable to feel sorry for it. You had plenty of other things to worry about, none of which involved your shitty ex or his new girlfriend.

You placed your cell on the counter and turned to make your way to the entryway, mug still clutched in your hand. The ceramic cup dropped to the floor and shattered into pieces when you saw who was already in your kitchen. You gasped, clutching your chest and yelping at the familiar man in black, the dark ink splattered across his throat the first thing you noticed. Your heart leapt, your body going rigid at the unexpected visit. Pop-ups like this were never a good sign.

“I let myself in.” Rio supplied, voice low and thick with authority and charm. He wore a smirk, lips upturned at your surprised reaction. He always seemed amused by you. That fact only served to unsettle you further.

“What’re you doing here?” You managed to say between shaky breaths, fear making your own voice quiver.

“Just checking in, mama. Can’t I do that?” He challenged with his arms spread wide, daring you to say otherwise.

You didn’t.

You went to move around the large kitchen island but the shards of broken mug prevented you from getting far on bare feet. Rio took notice and strode towards you, all clean lines and hooded eyes. He had a swagger about him that radiated. It sent a clear message about the kind of man he was. Confident. Skilled. Smart. There was an ease in his movements, but a beast lay in wait inside, ready to strike when the need arose.

His piercing gaze took in your dress, uncaring of being discreet or polite. He appraised you from the tips of your painted toes to the top of your head. It was as unnerving as it was thrilling. He crowded your space. He always did. While the scent of him filled your nostrils. Something spicy, but pleasing. It sat in your nose, and you knew from previous experience that you’d smell it for hours after.

You swallowed, wanting to avoid his close proximity. You hastily bent down to gather what you could of the jagged pieces, moving around his sneaker-clad feet that stood before you. You tried to ignore his presence, tried to appear calm and composed. It was an uphill battle. The man always knew how to throw you off. He knew how to keep people on their toes. It was yet another facet of him that you both coveted and despised.

You hissed, feeling the edge of one of the shards dig into the tip of your finger. You stood and sucked the tip into your mouth, trying to clear the area of the blood that had started to surface. His eyes were on you, watching you with interest and a certain level of lust that you didn’t allow yourself to explore. You stiffened when he reached for your wrist and pulled your finger away from your lips. He inspected the cut, his flesh warm and soft against yours. It was a side of him that eclipsed the man you’d come to know over the last several months.

“It’s not bad. I’ll be fine.” You whispered, attempting to pull your hand free of his. It was futile.

“Band aid?”

“Uh...yeah. In that drawer. Next to the stove.” You pointed in the direction of the drawer, holding your breath as he retrieved the item. This time, you watched him. Watched as he unwrapped the bandage and tended to your finger with all the care of a parent with their child. He held the appendage steady as he got ready to wrap it, but he stopped himself. He locked eyes with you instead, making you shiver.

“I make you nervous.”

It was a statement. A very true statement. And yet you found yourself shaking your head; ironic because your voice felt too unsteady to use.

Your heart stopped when he placed a tender kiss to the cut. The air around you crackled with heat and tension. It was unlike any feeling you’d ever been subjected to before. It was danger mixed with primal fascination...attraction. And it called to you like a raft in a sea of treacherous waves.

He ignored your silent response and sealed the band aid over your finger, ensuring the ends were smooth against your skin. He didn’t let go of you.

“Don’t lie to me, okay? Trust is an important thing. And we’ve gotta have it if we wanna keep doing business together.”

His calm demeanor and gentle chastising made you a puddle of obedience. Your need to please wasn’t just born from fear. It was something you’d been unable to come to terms with until now. You saw it for what it truly was. You wanted to please him. In as many ways as he’d let you.

You nodded in response, agreeing to his statement.

“Let’s try it again then, yeah?” He started, eyes roaming your face. “I make you nervous, don’t I?”

“The constant threat of my life makes it difficult for me to be calm.” You said, choosing to still be untruthful.

You forced yourself not to fidget as his stare scorched your skin. His black eyes roamed across the open expanse of your collarbone and to the modest neckline of your wrap dress. He licked his lips as he focused on the measured breaths of your chest, your breasts rising with each pass.

“That’s not the only reason.” He retorted with a shake of his head. He leaned in close, noses almost touching as he spoke. “Don’t move.”

You said nothing as he bent down, continuing your failed task of picking up the broken bits of ceramic. You observed him dutifully gathering each piece, piling them into one large hand. His face looked pensive, as if he was trying to solve an equation in his head. You leaned against the island for support and bit your lip, unwilling to give into the lecherous thoughts that haunted you at night and managed to infiltrate your dreams.

“Nice dress.”

His compliment made you pause, looking down to meet that familiar smirk. He’d set what was left of the mug onto the counter, the floor relatively clear of large fragments. His fingers now played with the hem of said dress, the flowy material dancing in the air and away from your body.

“Thanks.”

Your voice was small. The apprehension so clear that you could both taste it. He found it funny. You found it humiliating.

He slowly straightened, taking the fabric with him as he gathered it to just above your knees.

“Color looks good on you.”

Again, the juvenile warmth of his praise sent you reeling further into anxiety’s waiting arms. Inwardly, you were responding to every lick of his lips and quirk of his eyebrow. Your thighs shifted restlessly against each other, waiting for that satiation that you hadn’t felt in forever. Outwardly though, you remained as skittish as a wild horse. You were as much on the edge of pleasure as you were on retreating.

“Thanks.” You said with a pleasant smile, wanting to conceal the yearning that bubbled just under the surface. You smoothed out the hunter-green fabric that rested against your abdomen, hoping to urge his hands away from you and the dress.

No such luck.

Instead, he ran his fingers up your skirt and along the outside of your thighs and hips, almost meeting the edge of your lace panties. Your traitorous body showed its hand, your nipples hardening in eagerness. Rio’s gaze predictably caught the action. And his face showed his approval.

“How long you been divorced?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion at his sudden curiosity. But the switch in topic had you alert again and somewhat clear of the fog he was so insistent on throwing you into.

“Why? What does that have to do with anything?” You questioned, stepping back from his body.

His hands fell away from you finally, but they didn’t stay idle for long. They skimmed over your hips, pressing your backside into the edge of the kitchen island.

“Answer me, mama.” He demanded, head craning down to meet your eyes. The intensity of his stare made you shift on your feet. He had an amazing poker face. A skill that left you envious.

“Two years.” You dutifully supplied, leaning backwards every inch that he moved in.

“It’s been that long then.” He commented with a nod, a finger tracing along the neckline of your dress, hovering just above your cleavage.

“That long for what?” You asked, taking note of the subtle ways in which his face changed. There was no trace of the teasing, light-hearted flirting that you’d become accustomed to seeing from him. He was serious. Almost as serious as the times he’d threatened your life. His touch was more insistent, telling you what he wanted rather than hinting. His mouth lowered to your ear, his nose brushing against your neck in a far too erotic manner. Your fingers itched to anchor yourself to him. You denied the request.

“Since someone stretched you out.”

A gasp caught in your throat, though you didn’t know if it was more from his words or his touch. He’d managed to slip a hand under your dress, tracing the crotch of your panties with a dexterous finger as he spoke.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You stammered, knuckles tightening against the edge of the counter you were currently gripping.

“I mean…” Rio started, lips brushing against the shell of your ear with each syllable. His finger barely teased your slit, but his voice more than compensated for the lack of physicality. “You haven’t had someone here,” He emphasized the word with a firm press of his finger against the soaked material that hid your clit from view. “In two years. Maybe more.”

You whimpered, biting your lip as he continued to manipulate your body. Your head screamed at you to stop, to pull away. But the sensation of his body pressed so firmly to yours was far too comforting to deny.

“You don’t know that.” You attempted, though the effort was obviously pointless. It was true. Since your separation and subsequent divorce from Paul, you’d barely been on a date, much less had sex. Your body was fiending for it...for him. And he knew it.

He scoffed, finding amusement in your words. He pressed his finger along the same dampened area, seeing your eyes roll into the back of your head. He licked his lips when your hand shot out to grasp at his wrist.

“Yeah, I do.” He affirmed with a nod, finger still teasing over your lace-covered slit. “He stepped out on you, didn’t he?” He continued, his eyes taking stock of the way you responded to his touch.

You had trouble focusing on the conversation he insisted on having while his hand was up your dress and practically in your underwear. You didn’t feel the need to supply an answer anyway. He already had all the information he needed.

“He didn’t deserve you.”

You were jolted back to reality by his words, straightening your spine and pushing his hand from between your legs.

“And what? You do?” You threw back, agitation seeping into your tone. You felt like he was patronizing you. He was always one step ahead. Always aware of the skeletons in your closet before you were.

“Never said that.” He said with a shake of his head, not stepping out of your space. His hands were off your body now, but the stains they’d left on you would remain there. They wouldn’t easily be erased. And you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted them to be.

“Why are you here?” You asked, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

“Business.”

“A simple call or text works for that.”

“Wanted to come in person.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. He wore an expression of smugness, as if he knew something you didn’t, which was often the case.

“What do you want then?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” He retorted swiftly, lips pulled into a thin line.

The seriousness was back, his eyes nearly swallowing you as all humor became sucked from the room. The nerves in your stomach came back full force, the fear aiding them in their efforts. He was challenging you, apparently done with your lying.

“I…”

You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to even begin. He was too intimidating. Just too much.

“I-I can’t.” You finished lamely, shaking your head and looking down at your feet.

He tilted your chin up, his mouth only centimeters from yours as he dared you to move.

“Just say the word.” He rasped against your lips, his free hand cradling your cheek.

You let yourself stare back, taking in his dark lashes and the angles of his face. He confused you on many levels, angered you beyond belief. He made your life a living hell. And yet, you wanted him more than anything. More than the money and the thrill of crime. And somehow he was privy to it all. And he wanted to give it to you.

So you were going to let him.

“Kiss me.” You breathed out, your hands finally coming to rest on his chest.

He needed no further encouragement. His mouth settled over yours in a tangle of lips and tongues. He tasted like mint, his lips much softer than they looked. The scratch of his facial hair only added to the moment as you pressed further into him, asking him to take more.

He did.

His hands were rough, but not unpleasant as they trailed along your body. They had the marks of healed scars. Not to mention the blood of those who chose to cross him. They were everywhere and all at once. Your breasts, your neck, your waist, your ass. He kneaded where he knew you yearned for more and tenderly stroked the areas in between. You struggled to keep up as his hips pushed into yours, his own yearning making its presence known.

“We shouldn’t do this.” You managed to say between heavy breaths, Rio’s mouth attaching to your neck and sucking near your throbbing pulse.

“Why not?” He mumbled into your skin, hands unwilling to slow down.

“Things will get complicated.”

He pulled himself away from the crook of your neck, his thumb running over your kiss-swollen pout.

“Yeah, they will.” He said with a chuckle, that devilish smirk staring back at you.

It was all a blur after that.

Limbs intertwined together as you worked on the buckle of his pants while he pushed your dress up and over your hips this time. He harshly pulled the lace away, the elastic snapping against your thighs as it got caught before making its way to the floor. Your mouths didn’t separate, not even when he lifted you onto the counter. He pulled one side of your dress away, exposing the matching bra you wore underneath. Your pebbled nipples called to him and he responded, massaging the flesh with expert precision. You moaned and writhed like a woman possessed. Like a woman that hadn’t been laid in two years.

“Feels good?”

The roughened gravel of his voice made your walls spasm, the hint of self-assuredness causing a wave of arousal to seep from within you. You could only nod, wordlessly pleading with him to continue on. His touch ventured south to your spread thighs. You widened them, allowing him access to the place you needed him the most. He didn’t disappoint.

His fingers were long and probing as they penetrated your sex, slipping easily in. You gasped at the fullness, the stretch around him making your eyes squeeze shut. He let your body guide him as he rubbed at your clit, his fingers curling against your walls.

“I’m...god...I’m gonna cum.” You confessed, only somewhat embarrassed by the suddenness of your climax.

He worked hard and faster. Your nails dug into his back, your mouth landing on his shoulder as you struggled to not cry out. You bit down when the euphoria of orgasm washed over you, trapping his hand within you. He could feel every tremor he brought forth as you shook in his arms. It felt like it lasted for hours, your body unwilling to let the feeling be a fleeting moment in time.

“You still with me?” He asked, lips pressed to your temple.

You nodded, hissing when he removed his fingers from the confines of your body. You watched, feeling as if you were in a daze. He shifted his pants and boxers down, revealing his length to your ravenous eyes. The hand that had been so deeply embedded in you now wrapped around himself. He was long and hard, as rigid as his hands. You felt like a moth to a flame, hand reaching out to feel if he was real. He was.

You swiped your finger over the tip of him and were overcome with wanton pride at feeling the moisture that sat there. His jaw clenched in a way that you’d only ever seen him do in anger. He didn’t allow you to continue. In an instant he was wedged between your thighs, his body already pushing into your waiting sex. Even with the climax from his fingers, he was a tight fit. You both expelled breaths, his a mumbled curse and yours a throaty moan. You shut your eyes as a new burst of pleasure radiated from your core and traveled up your spine. There was only a brief moment of intimacy as he sat unmoving within you, letting your body adjust to him.

It was short-lived.

“Fuck...” He cursed as he began to fuck you into the counter, hands holding your hips in place.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lavished yours with kisses and bites, each thrust of his hips causing his teeth to graze your skin. The chill of the marble countertop beneath your bare ass cooled your overheated skin. You bit your lip so hard you could taste blood as he filled you over and over, each pass making your walls accept more of him. He was deep and hitting that gloriously elusive spot that sat within your womb.

He cupped your breasts while you scraped your nails down his back, hearing him growl in response. The sound made you yearn to hear more. So, you did something you’d always wanted to do...you licked the ink on his throat. You decorated his skin with tantalizing kisses, your tongue aiding your actions. He shivered against your lips, the reaction making your walls clench around him. He was, at least for the moment, a slave to your ministrations. And it was a high unlike any drug you’d ever encountered.

It was animalistic fucking at its finest. He hit every nerve, soothed every ache. The union of your bodies was enough to send you sailing off the proverbial cliff, but his touch kept you tethered to solid ground, longing for more. He rocked his hips mercilessly into you, making your back arch at an almost painful angle.

“Right there, huh?” He teased, feeling you squeeze around him in raw desire. “Yeah, that’s the spot.”

You whimpered and tensed when he savagely rubbed your swollen clit, forcing your legs to tighten around him. He laughed, the sound ominous in your ringing ears. You could only hold on as he delivered the sweetest torture you’d ever felt. You spread your thighs wider, trying to get him closer than humanly possible. You opened your neck up to him, letting him have access to your bare flesh. You wanted him all over you and leaving a scorching trail of hunger in his wake.

It was manic. It was frenzied. It was passionate. And it all combined into a seductive elixir that made fireworks burst from within.

“Shit...I’m cumming.” You warned, feeling him double his efforts. Every muscle went taut with blinding pleasure as that coil finally snapped. You felt weightless, and yet the firm body still driving into your depths made you feel sublimely solid. And whole. More whole than you’d felt in the entirety of your marriage.

It was on the tail-end of your climax that Rio found his. His hips stuttered as he grunted and groaned, releasing himself into you and painting your walls. His fingers dug into the flesh of your inner thighs while his face burrowed into your chest and neck. It was as uninhibited as you’d seen him. And you were addicted to the sight.

You both heaved with shallow breaths, the exertion of each of your climaxes literally taking the air from your lungs. The room smelled of sex and instant regret as you straightened in Rio’s arms. He separated from your body, eyeing you as he redressed. You shifted your dress back together to cover your bra, the mess between your thighs preventing you from closing them completely.

Before you could say anything, Rio reached up and cradled your cheek. He played with your bottom lip, his thumb once again finding the appendage. His eyes took in every part of you, as if he hadn’t fucked you senseless seconds before. He licked his lips in that dangerous way that let you know his thoughts were on more than just money.

“Business is good?” He asked, warm palm still pressed to your cheek.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Cool, cool.” He nonchalantly replied, hand leaving your face as he stepped back from your debauched body. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You said with a nod, pushing your dress further down over your thighs, a lame effort to protect any modesty you might’ve still possessed. He smirked at the action.

“Might wanna clean up the mess.” He said with a cheeky upturn of his lips, hands gesturing to the remaining fragments of ceramic that still littered the floor but eyes locked solely to the spot between your legs. The place he knew he’d left a part of himself.

You bit your lip and nervously played with the hem of your dress, feeling his eyes bore into you. Despite still being fully dressed, you felt naked to him. Bare. Exposed. Vulnerable. You hated it.

He retreated, facing you as he walked backwards towards the front door. You watched him from over your shoulder, still unsure of what to make of the whole situation.

“And lock your door from now on. All kinds of madmen running around these streets.” He quipped, eyes lighting up at his own joke.

He was gone as fast as he’d arrived, causing havoc and then leaving without a second thought. The door closed with a crisp click at his exit, the house now feeling bare without his foreboding presence.

You didn’t move from your spot. You remained on the counter, Rio still leaking from your walls and your dress still disheveled despite your best efforts. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one riddled with panic. His unexpected visit left you with more questions than answers, all of which were tinged with fear. What did this development mean for you? Did it actually mean anything? Or was he simply taking what was so obviously laid out in front of him?

Did it matter?

No. It didn’t.

Because although he may have indulged your craving, your appetite was far from being fulfilled.

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