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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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Demon Brothers as Roommates

Intro:

So, the MC has left the Devildom and, of course, everybody is quite sad… But this time around, they have a little trick up their sleeve. With just a bit of magic (and training thanks to Solomon) the MC can now summon one of their favorite demon boys up to the human world with them! There's just, uh, one problem though… After being summoned to their side, their beloved demon now refuses to leave it.

Alright MC, enjoy your new demonic roommate!!

Lucifer

Apparently Lucifer is on sabbatical… And yes, he does appreciate that irony in that.

Lucifer actually has a surprising amount of human world money stashed away in alias accounts (because this man renting a cheap motel on business trips? Let's be real) so he uses that wealth to get them a place befitting his standards… which are high.

Spacious apartments in nice areas that would make even the upper middle-class shit their pants? Congrats, MC, that's where you're staying now!

Even with all that money, though, Lucifer CANNOT sit idle for a second. The guy is used to working all his life and just sitting around would drive him insane!

Expect him to still be running some Devildom affairs long-distance style while doing something else on the side, probably stock market stuff tbh.

Is going to want to pay for and provide everything himself but will respect the MC if they still want to work and split the bills (not to a ridiculous degree, though, like half-and-half because that would mean getting three jobs at least).

A lot of trips and vacations too, especially if the MC likes to travel. It’s a good excuse to relax while also technically doing something so he doesn’t lose his mind doing nothing in particular.

He is going to be that strict roommate who expects you not to be a slob and isn't afraid to say so. Regularly scheduled cleaning/organization days are mandatory because hygiene is important. Take some pride in yourself and wash up, MC. That kind of thing.

Also going to have short-fuse for… antics. If you want to prank him, do so at your own risk because he may prank back (and that’s not nearly as fun as it sounds, trust me.)

Mammon

Yeah so, living with Mammon is like the inverse of Lucifer. Prepare to be poooor.

Man has no human money, are you kidding me? Even if he did, he wouldn’t keep it for very long. Couples budgeting is a MUST if you’re looking to survive.

The apartment is going to be whatever the MC can more or less afford on their own with Mammon shoved in somewhere like a cheap lamp… Don’t expect a lot of room.

However, Mammon is great at the hustle. Man can work multiple jobs and actually be pretty dang good at them. For the most part, anyway. He may occasionally trip up and get himself fired, but he bounces back quick.

If the MC isn’t so moral he can also uh… “find” some extra money lying around too. Just be careful when playing with fire, right?

Even if they’re poor as shit, Mammon is still a blast to be around. The guy knows how to have fun on and off of a budget. Lots of “window shopping” (getting kicked out of stores for goofing off), nightclubs, amusement parks, and cheap fun. They’ll never be without a story to tell or a smile on their face!

He IS pretty slobbish though. He’s not going to remember to clean up after himself unless told, but he’s also not going to be bothered if they don’t do the same thing. A weekly cleaning day is going to be ideal unless they don’t mind living in a pigsty...

Prank waaaaars!! The kind of guy to get them both water guns and have a war in the middle of the apartment complex. Good luck getting any rest with Mammon around.

Leviathan

Whelp, your room is now his room, quite literally MC. You had to pick the shut-in…

The guy isn’t exactly poor but what human money he does have is all wrapped up in his many interests… Merch interests specifically.

Thankfully, he won’t take up too much space. Put him in a room with a desk, bed (or bathtub), TV, and computer and he’s good to go!

He’s not going to be a complete bum, thankfully. There’s no way that they can get him to leave the apartment, but he can run small online stores (usually anime themed) or become a streamer. Probably enough to help pay the bills, but not much more.

If they don’t mind having a literally permanent housemate, then being with Levi has its own kind fun. Lots of anime marathons, movie nights, and game nights. Really, it’s just like how he was in the House, but now transported to the human world.

Is probably going to want a pet goldfish, snake ,or lizard so prepare to house Henry 3.0.

When he does leave the apartment, it’s to take the MC to conventions, concerts, or anime stores. He always manages to get just enough money for these trips, but never says where the money comes from… Best not to ask. Could be black market for they know...

… He’s a shut-in. He’s a shut-in roommate. Hygiene isn’t exactly his main concern. If they ask him to, he’ll make sure to clean up after himself, but he may need a reminder.

Can have a fun side, but just don’t mess with his stuff too much. He doesn’t need a Mammon 2.0 around too...

Satan

He's either hatching a plan for world domination or adopting 10 cats… One or the other.

About as poor as Mammon at first, but threat not. He won’t be for very long. Satan is intelligent beyond his years (or equivalent his years maybe?) so he’ll probably net himself several degrees within a couple semesters like a certified prodigy.

At that point, there really isn’t much to worry about (aside from student loans, join our pain Satan) but he can sell himself just fine and probably get some high paying job like a lawyer or doctor or whatever… I’m not jealous…

They’ll start out in a pretty modest place, but there will be upgrades fairly quickly when he starts racking it in so Satan’s a fairly decent choice as a roommate.

He does still have that nasty habit of breaking things when he’s pissed off, but that can be subverted by getting a pet! Just hold up whatever cat you own when he’s about to rampage then declare that he’s scaring/upsetting them and he’ll stop in his tracks. Works every time!

Probably going to be the most domestic out of the brothers. He enjoys cooking (and ain’t half bad at it either), shopping is a practical necessity, he’ll take care your pets like they were his own flesh and blood, etc.

There will even to be points where he’s in bed reading in the middle of the night with tea and reading glasses like some kind of grandma so take that image for what you will.

Satan is the prankster of the household, but he does his pranks more as a way to give grief to his enemies rather than for funsies. Be warned, if you poke this bear he will retaliate for sweet, sweet revenge and he has centuries worth of pranks behind him. Good luck.

Asmodeus

It's a new party every night, sweetie, get used to it!

Asmo is the only other brother who has some amount of money to offer from his own trips to the human world, but it's just a modest amount.

Is totally willing to work to help pay for a nice place. He wants a building nice enough to host parties!

Would go back to modeling and maybe dip his toe into acting from time to time… He gets a lot of gigs (this IS the Avatar of Lust after all) so they won't be strapped for cash. Which is good, because Asmo is a very "business by day, but party every night" kind of person.

Do know that his shopping is NOT going to slow down either. Keep an eye on the budget.

He’s also going to make friends wherever he goes so he’s going to want for them all to hang out at least somewhat regularly.

That being said, he can tone it down some if the MC so desires, just know that they can’t keep him cooped up in the apartment for too long or he’ll start getting antsy. You can’t keep this stallion locked up, MC, he needs to run free!!

Being with Asmo is going to be like having a free pass to whatever gathering the MC wants to go to, at least. He could even get them into red carpet events with just his sheer charisma, charm, and er-… “charms.” Who doesn’t want to meet their favorite actress or singer, eh?

But oh, sweetie, please don’t prank him! Life is too short to waste on silly games (he also just genuinely just doesn’t enjoy being messed with so best not do it).

Beelzebub

Brave choice, MC, but quick question. How in the world are you going to pay your food bills???

Beel is a real sweetheart through and through but his stomach is NOT. That thing will eat them out of house and home! (Maybe even literally!!) Both of them are going to have to work and probably some pretty looong hours (cause he’s got no money either).

Honestly, Beel would be best as a personal trainer in the human world. He’s a pretty decent combination of tough but genuinely kind and motivating. (The fact that he’s pretty easy on the eyes would help out a lot too).

But the MC won’t have to worry about Beel sneaking off with someone just looking for some “quality time.” He’d take his job seriously, though he’s not particularly versed in what the human body can’t handle so only the really dedicated (or masochistic) would stick with him anyway.

“Good work last week, April! You did so well that we’re going to go from 500 pushups to a thousand! … I can see you’re worried, but I believe in you.”

But hey, he can deadlift well over 2,000 pounds without breaking a sweat so who has the balls to argue with him, anyway?

Trying out every restaurant in town would be a must. He’d even plan out vacations for them with the sole purpose of travelling the globe and tasting the different flavors. Food trips!!

He's neat enough since he used to tidy up a lot for Belphie so no need to worry about him picking up after himself (except for the occasional pile of wrappers. Toss those out unless you want ants)

I mean, you can prank Beel if you want. He'll be pretty good-natured about it as long as it stays harmless. Just don't ruin any of his food, got it?

Belphegor

So… Belphie makes for some excellent décor! Really he is great at laying around and looking fantastic just… he’s not that great at much else...

Realistically, choosing Belphie as a roommate is kind like having a high maintenance pet. He’s good for love and cuddles, but he’s not going to be helping with the bills or anything unless they whine incessantly about it.

If the MC can make enough for the both of them, then it should be fine. They won’t get upset and he won’t be crabby but if not… Oh boy.

Regular job Belphie is a needy Belphie. He’ll come back from whatever job he’s working, likely a night shift, and demand attention or cuddles right then and there. He needs to recharge those batteries, after all...

If he isn’t working then he's at his happiest. He can even pull off being a “househusband” of sorts. He’s not going to go above and beyond the call of duty, but he can keep the place clean, get a basic meal on the table (provided someone teaches him some human recipes), and get groceries if he needs to… You know, basic domestic shit.

They’re going to have to come to terms with the fact that, at some level, Belphie just doesn’t believe in “common curtesy” or “human decency.” If some neighbors are being too noisy for his liking, he will troll them to oblivion and beyond. He may even get sued for it if he takes it too far, so the MC will have to keep an eye on him…

He’s the House’s #2 prankster, but unlike Satan he doesn’t need any malice to be a little shit. The MC will be pranked and it will be at the most unexpected times. Be warned...

Check out my Masterlist for more!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

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jkbabiey · 2 years

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🇵 🇷 🇴 🇲 🇮 🇸 🇪 [ 🇯 🇯 🇰 ]

Words: 3.0 K

Pairing: hitman!Jungkook x medstudent!reader

Warnings: angsty; smutty; kinda toxic; toxic parents; bad parenting; drugs; abusing parents; bullying; there are tons of heavy themes in this one

Song Rec: Been Through - EXO; Rosario - EPIK HIGH, CL, ZICO; Loser=Lover - TXT; This Love - Camila Cabello (really recommended)

"Drink up man!"

Jimin was Jungkook's best friend. He worked at the bar where everything took place. Jungkook's boss had his single office in the bar and he owned it. Jimin himself did some dirty jobs sometimes - such as manipulating drinks.

It wasn't a pretty world the one these two lived in. They knew that better than anyone. None of them necessarily liked their job but they knew it was way more complicated leaving it than actually doing it. They weren't willing to discover what actually trying to leave this world took because rumors spread fast and they weren't good to hear.

But tonight, Jungkook was celebrating his new position as the head of his unit.

There wasn't a proper team in the organization - everyone worked alone and preferred it that way. But there were, in fact, a few hitmen in the job and they formed a unit- - Jungkook was now in control of it.

"I think I'm drunk, Jimin," he slurred word after word back at his friend that kept bringing more and more shots of tequila.

Jimin was probably the only person Jungkook could trust in and outside this world, besides you. They met when they were still children and instantly hit it off and became buddies. Jimin had lost his parents very soon - even before he met his best friend. He spent his whole childhood and teenage years in an orphanage. He had actually been adopted once but was quickly returned to the place he lived in before - too much trouble to a newlywed couple in their early thirty's.

Jungkook didn't lose his parents and he didn't grow up in an orphanage. His mother gave birth to him at home, in the bathtub, while his dad was passed out on the couch.

His mother was a junkie, she wasn't a proper mother, she just brought him to life - and sometimes, Jungkook even questions if that had been the right thing to do. She didn't raise him, spending most of her kids' childhood absolutely high. His father was just the same, and to make it worse, he was abusive of his mother and sometimes, of him and his brother.

It was hell at home. The windows of his room were broken from a bottle of whiskey his dad had tried to throw at him. His mother never made lunch or dinner. The only time she was sober was in the morning, and even then she was hungover.

So if there wasn't a present mother or father, who took care of Jungkook? His older brother, Yoongi. Yoongi was a troublesome kid, bullying some kids at school and even Jungkook himself. He wasn't exactly the ideal brother or son, but he did breakfast for Jungkook and when he took money from his parents in secret to buy lunch and dinner, he also took some for his little brother.

Things actually started to take a bad turn when Yoongi turned sixteen and his father started to ask him to go buy drugs for him. Yoongi was quickly sucked into the illicit world, which was exceptional for their parents, that once found out about their son's new occupation, started to oblige him to bring a pack of drugs home for them, every day.

Jungkook preferred to stay out of that, always focused on the only thing that could ever allow him to have a decent life - school. Jungkook was a great student - the brightest kid with the best grades in class. He even dreamt about being a lawyer, once in his life, and he had it in him to keep working on school towards that dream.

But when his parents started to rob the older brother and take the drugs he hid at home to sell later, Yoongi saw himself in deep trouble with the underground crew he worked for, as he kept asking his leader for more drugs to sell but wasn't bringing any money back. When he was confronted with that and asked to explain why, he couldn't explain - no kid would ever denounce their parents like that. So he was told to find a solution.

The only solution was to beg his little brother to help, selling and hiding the drugs in his room - there was no way a nerdy kid would ever hide drugs in his room.

Jungkook agreed. As the innocent kid he was, there was no way he would deny his brother's request when he kneeled in front of him with a tear-washed face.

Jungkook started selling, being presented to Yoongi's crew as his "solution". The crew welcomed him in and made sure he felt like he belonged there.

At only 14 years old, Jungkook managed to sell more than his brother and brought much more money in. He was a discreet, fast-thinking, and agile kid. It wasn't shocking at all to see how well he did in the industry.

His talents could be better-used though. When Jungkook turned 18, the boss - the one that had the office in the bar and that every single worker was afraid of - called him up to have a word.

He offered to exchange to another of the company's units. That's when Jungkook, appalled by the enormous raise of salary, went from a drug dealer to a hitman. Everything in Jungkook pointed to either a very boring teenager, or a serial killer - he was discreet, didn't have friends, besides Jimin, that worked in the same company, and no one knew him. He didn't have fame, a reputation, be it good or bad. No one knew Jeon Jungkook.

Either the most boring human being on earth or a slayer.

He did amazing in the job, going through a long process of actually being able to kill and not freezing in place when it actually came to doing it. The first times, that's what happened and Hoseok, the head of the department at the time, had to supervise him and make sure he did it right, always saving the day when he couldn't and never letting a victim escape from Jungkook's shaky hands.

Jungkook's hands weren't shaky anymore. He did get used to the coldness that ruled the world of killing, losing all feelings when it came to doing the job. He became a completely different person when he killed - almost not a person at all.

"My little brother!" he heard someone - that he knew exactly who was - yelling in his ear. "Finally made it to the top, huh?"

Jungkook looked at his brother, Yoongi, and nodded lightly, the grin of happiness on his brother's face was bigger than his and he couldn't understand how people still considered this kind of stuff so great. If he could, he'd be out of here and this world in a second.

"Congrats, you baby!" Yoongi added, slapping his brother's back and rubbing it in an affectionate manner. "So, how's our little girl?" he whispered.

He was talking about Y/N. "She was good last time I saw her"

"Yeah? Gonna celebrate tonight?" he winked and Jungkook rolled his eyes in hidden disgust.

"I broke it off last week," he mumbled, watching as Yoongi's small eyes widened.

"What?" he screamed, almost, and Jungkook quickly shushed him. "Don't tell me she found out about us! You know she'll denounce the crew in a heartbeat if she knows anything"

"She doesn't know anything," Jungkook lied. "Just got bored." Yoongi looked at his brother with suspicion clear in his eyes. "Look, I've been with her for a year now. I've made sure she won't tell anything that happened to anyone, what's she gonna say? 'a faceless man cornered me after killing someone a year ago? She didn't even see you. Even if she wanted to she couldn't say anything."

You did know almost everything but he knows you wouldn't say anything. Jungkook knows you wouldn't stand to see him behind bars and he wasn't worried about spending the rest of his life in jail because you wouldn't betray him like that, ever.

"if you're so sure," Yoongi answered, after pondering over the topic for a minute.

"Hey! Did you tell the boss anything about her?"

"Just told him you had a girlfriend when he asked me why your numbers were down."

"Nothing else?"

"Nope," he answered, reassuring his brother.

Jungkook looked ahead, at his best friend, that was already staring with a knowing and worried look in his eyes.

"Drink up."

You had beautiful eyes.

You could do anything you wanted to Jungkook by just looking him in the eye. And you looked pretty when you cried.

So, Jungkook was smitten. He was smitten to you as soon as he opened the door of his apartment and was faced with your teary brown eyes. You came in, not caring to wait for Jungkook to actually let you in. You gripped his neck, trying to hold him close. Jungkook held both your arms and tried to keep you away, but you just settled for his arm, gripping it and holding it against your torso.

"Jungkook, p-please don't leave me!" you begged and Jungkook tried freeing his arm from your tight hold. This just led to you kneeling down and hugging his leg, like a four-year-old. "Please Jungkook," you cried and Jungkook sighed, noticing how his own eyes were already teary.

"Y/n please, it's better this way, for both of us."

It had been about five months since he left and you still hadn't been able to get over him - you didn't even think you could.

So you cried. You just cried and wouldn't answer him regardless of the many times he called your name and tried to get you to let go of his leg. Jungkook reached down, picking you up from the floor and holding you in his arms. He took you to the living room, sitting down on the couch, with you on his lap. You hugged him tightly, your arms around his neck and your legs straddling his. You buried your wet face on his chest and he distributed small soft kisses along the skin of your neck.

"It's alright baby, it's gonna be alright" he mumbled and waited till you calmed down and your sobbing stopped.

Jungkook didn't get over you just yet and to be honest, he was still far from it. He still loved you just like the day he left, probably even more. So he couldn't just leave you crying on the floor of his apartment without doing anything or kick you out of it when you looked like this - miserable.

You were wearing an old sweatshirt of his and some leggings. Your hair was down and your curls looked messy. You were rocking some very deep dark circles and your lips were chapped. Jungkok hated himself for still finding you beautiful and for actually being happy to see you, even if it was like this.

"We can work this out together," you tried to convince again after months, looking up with your red eyes fixed on his and your eyebrows raised. Jungkook knew you were trying your best to make all of this look brighter - less scary.

But you couldn’t.

Jungkook picked you up once again, sitting you on the couch, next to him. "I kill people for a living," he said slowly as if talking to a little kid and watched your eyes fill up with tears once again.

You stood up, suddenly looking more angry than scared, sad, or anything of that nature. “That’s bullshit Jungkook,” you gritted and looked at him with tears running down your flushed face once again. “You’re just saying that because you don’t love me anymore,” you said and continued, completely ignoring the way Jungkook ironically laughed at your conclusion from this situation. “You’re making all that up so you have a fucking reason to leave! Because that’s what you want! You want to leave!” And before you knew it you were screaming already, your voice screechy and desperate - angry yelling in his face “But if that’s what you want, just fucking say that and leave! Don’t be a fucking coward, just be honest and say you don’t love me anymore-“ that's when you were suddenly interrupted by the realization of just how miserable you were, being cut short by your own sobs, breaking down right in front of your ex-lover. You kneeled down on the floor of the living room, in front of the couch where Jungkook was sitting. Taking your own hands to cover your face in pure shame, you let out the loudest sobs Jungkook had ever heard from you.

He quickly stood up from the couch, kneeling in front of your shrunk figure, and took both your hands in his.

“Do you think I want any of this?” he asked, after forcing you to lock eyes with him. “Y/n, I’m in love with you, have been for years now. I haven’t loved anyone as much as I love you.”

You looked him in the eyes and then at his plump red lips, slowly getting closer and closer until your lips were inches away from Jungkook's.

Jungkook reached up to rest his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin. You finally closed the gap between the two of you, pressing your lips against his. He instantly let out a small whimper, remembering the missed feeling of kissing the love of his life.

You rolled your arms around Jungkook's neck, who picked you up and laid you down on the sofa. You wrapped your legs around Jungkook's waist, and trusted your hips up, groaning at the friction. Jungkook buried his face in your neck, distributing kisses and you could only imagine the dark bruises you missed so much forming on your skin. You, greedy and missing the feel of your lover's skin against yours, reached down to take his shirt off.

Quickly all your clothes were messily splayed across the living room's floor.

There was a sense of desperation in the way you both gripped each other. Neither of you knew whether this was the last time you felt each other this intimately or not and that made it even more intense. You missed each other and it was notorious.

Jungkook licked a straight line from the bottom of your neck to your stomach, passing through the valley of her chest. Hearing the way every slight touch provoked the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard coming from you, he sucked the bundle of nerves on your core and inserted two of his finger inside you, feeling you gripping his dark locks. He looked up, locking eyes with you and seeing how fucked up you looked. He was hard and the sight wasn't helping - you, naked, wide-opened mouth, wet lips, and half-lidded eyes.

"I-I'm coming, kook," you whimpered and he fastened the pace of his fingers inside you, sucking your clit harder. He heard you scream in relief, electric shock waves running through your body. Jungkook pushed himself back up and locked his lips to yours.

You felt the taste of your orgasm fresh on his tongue and moaned against his mouth.

"Let me take care of you," Jungkook whispered after you tried to switch positions to stay on top. And you did. He rubbed his cock against your core,placing his fingers, that were previously inside you, on your mouth, making you moan loudly, after sucking your own cum from his digits. You raised your head, kissing his neck and sucking the skin on it. You wanted to leave marks. You wanted Jungkook to remember this night - whether it symbolized your last night together or the first one where both of you were aware of all the raw truth and stood absolutely naked and vulnerable for each other.

You gasped when he suddenly slipped himself inside you, staying still for a few seconds to let you adjust to his size - which a few weeks ago would be the perfect size for you, but now felt way too big. After a short span of seconds, Jungkook was passionately pounding inside you and you were both moaning, whimpering, and growling like wild animals.

Among every time you and Jungkook had had each other in this way, this had been the most profound, feverish, and emotional you had ever felt with him. You had touched places in each other you had never before, and poked emotions neither of you even knew you felt.

Jungkook was the love of your life, you were more than sure about that before tonight but the time you shared just enlightened that even more for you. Jungkook's heart, on the other hand, was shattered and kept on getting worse each day that passed. He loved you, he did. More than anything. But he knew there was no way this story could have a pretty ending for either of you.

Jungkook had already understood there was no way you would be able to stay away from each other - the love you felt was too fiery and your bond was too deep to be broken just like that. But he also understood that love stories in the criminal world weren't rare - after all, criminals were also human and had feelings. Anyone could fall in love and no one could control who, when or in which situations they did. But facts are facts, and in the illegal matter, love isn't easy to deal with. In most of the love stories he knew or had heard of along years of practice in this world, things always get out of control, most of the time ending in heartbreak, death, or both. People in charge had the job to prevent any damage to go further than necessary - and wouldn't look at the means in order to reach the ends.

Your story could never end like he wished it did - you smiling, with a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook scenarios #jungkook reaction #jeon jungguk #jungkook masterlist #jungkook fanfic #jungkoo #jungkook doctor au #promise #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkoooook #doctor!reader #doctor au #student!reader #college!au jungkook

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atlafan · 3 years

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Juvenile and Family Law, is it something that a kid dreams of practicing? No, not really. Is that where the big bucks are if you’re not interested in taxes and wills? Yes, it is. College is expensive, and so is law school; gotta pay it off somehow. It takes a while to build your clientele, a lot of it is word of mouth. You work your way up, and slowly but surely, build a good reputation for yourself. And if you’re lucky, you’ll make partner.

Harry Styles is good at his job, and is on the brink of making partner at his firm. Gallagher, Hilson & Associates Family Law is a great place to work. Isaiah Gallagher and Maria Hilson are two incredible lawyers, and the other associates Harry works with aren’t too bad either. He doesn’t always love working nearly sixty hours a week, and some of the cases he handles have caused him to see the bottom of one too many bottles, but other than that, he’s happy.

Family Law means working all kinds of cases. Custody, spousal support, paternity, and divorce. All of those cases are messy, rarely are they clean cut. Harry happens to specialize in divorce, which in turn can lead to all of the other things listed above. What’s worse is that a lot of his clients will often flirt with him, so he’s started to wear a fake wedding band to ward off any and all inappropriate behavior. It doesn’t happen every time, but it was often enough that he decided to find a way to just avoid the unwanted attention.

Due to how many hours he works a week, Harry’s social life is a little lackluster. By the time he gets home work, all he wants to do is kick his shoes off, plop down on the couch with some greasy Chinese food, and catch up on some television. He lives in a nice enough building in the city. His apartment has one bedroom, and one and half baths. On Friday nights, he’ll go out with some of the other associates for a drink, so he gets a bitof social time in. He’s not lonely, he actually quite enjoys the quiet and solitude. He’s got a cat, Gerry, short for Geraldine that he takes care of. He has what he needs, and he’s perfectly content.

Whenever he dates, people always want to talk about his work. The last thing Harry wants to talk about after a long day at work, is more work. So, he sticks to meaningless hookups, and his own hand, when he needs that type of release.

He doesn’t have too much to complain about. He’s thirty, and massively successful. Some of his friends still live at home while working retail jobs, not that he’s judging. He was twenty-six when he moved out, and he’s grateful his parents let him stay rent free so he could save up for his own place. He doesn’t like to compare himself to others, but it makes him feel good to know he’s all set. He works hard, yes, but it’s all worth it.

With how quiet his personal life is, it’s hard to imagine Harry being a shark in the courtroom, but he is. He’s a master in the art of persuasion and rhetoric. Having been a communication major in his undergrad career, and all. He knows how to read a room, and how to read people. The jury is just an audience waiting to watch a live performance. His theater minor also comes in handy here. Being a lawyer is an act, a role he plays. He knows how to play the part when it’s in a large courtroom, or when it’s just a small meeting in a conference room to divide up assets. It’s not always easy, but he makes it look that way. Harry typically wins most of his cases, and when it’s something small, he’s usually able to get his client the majority of what they asked for. Every customer leaves happy.

These skills can’t all be taught and learned. Some people are born with natural talent, skills they learn to hone in on and perfect. It’s a craft that Harry has worked on for years. Again, he’s only thirty, but because he has such precision and talent, it makes him the hot commodity. The office is constantly getting calls for him. It’s why they want him to become the next partner. Having his name on the plaque as you enter would surely put people at ease. Isaiah and Maria saw potential in Harry from the beginning, and they feel lucky that he’s one of their associates.

There other very qualified associates as well, like Niall – who specializes in custody cases – he’s well on his way up. There’s Candice – who specializes in prenuptial agreements – she got into the lawyer game a little later in life, but she’s as sharp as a whip, and shouldn’t be underestimated. And lastly, there’s Byron – who specializes in paternity cases – he thinks he’s going to be the next partner because he’s a bit full of himself.

Harry and Niall are the closest in age, so they hang out more often. They both really like baseball, and will go to a game or two during the season. Candice is the surrogate mother figure. She has no children of her own, she’s the fun aunt to her nieces and nephews, but she feels oddly maternal towards Harry and Niall. The boys often call her “Ma”, instead of her actual name, and she loves it. She looks out for them, and there when they need someone to listen. She’s fifty-seven, and enjoys baking in her free time. She often brings the boys homemade muffins on Monday mornings, and they adore her for it.

Byron…well…Byron is a forty-year-old womanizer who totally clashes with Harry. Does Harry have one-night stands? Yes. Does he ever lie to his partners? No. Byron enjoys playing the game in all facets, and Harry never takes part in it. Needless to say, Harry hates when he has to partner with him on a case, and avoids it when he can.

Isaiah and Maria each have their own executive assistant, or para: Michele and Kyla. They’re both in their late twenties, and rocking it. Harry only interacts with them over email. He, Candice, Niall, and Byron all share the same administrator: Ronnie. Ronnie is twenty-six, friendly, and organized. She doesn’t have time to help everyone on their briefs, but that’s what interns are for, and there’s an abundance of them circling throughout the office.

Harry has a nice office. Plenty of natural light from the windows, he has a desk riser so he can stand up periodically, and he even has his own mini fridge. (He’s often paranoid about people taking his Bubbly, so he just brought in his own fridge.) He’s got a decent enough view of the city; he likes it best at night when the twinkling lights come through. It reminds him of how lucky he is to be where he is in life. He knows he’s more fortunate than others, so he tries to be grateful. He gives back when he’s able, donate to different scholarship funds and whatnot.

Harry is a good man.

On a particularly cloudy morning, Ronnie lets Harry know his 10AM consult has arrived. He didn’t know much about his new potential client, but he was always willing to hear someone out. He stands up from his desk, and waits for the woman to enter.

In walks a young woman wearing an expensive, red pantsuit, black heels, and a dark red lipstick. She gives a soft smile to Ronnie before she closes the door. Harry walks over to her, extending his hand.

“Hi, I’m Harry.”

“Mira.” She shakes his hand.

“Please, have a seat.” He gestures to the two seats on the other side of his desk and they both sit. “What brings you to my office today?”

“I heard you’re a pretty good divorce lawyer, and I need a divorce.”

“Is your spouse aware that you’re seeking counsel?”

“No.” She shakes her head and swallows. “I…I’d be putting myself in danger if he knew I wanted to leave him.”

“What kind of danger? If he’s physically abusive, then you need to- “

“He doesn’t put his hands on me like that. It’s…I don’t love him, and I never have. I was essentially…I was sold to him; it was an arranged marriage. I thought maybe I could learn to like him, to love him, but it’s been three years, and I can’t stand him. I need legal help.”

“What do you mean you were sold to him? Were you a child bride? Were you sex trafficked?”

“No.” She chews on her bottom lip. “He made a deal with my father. Thomas got me in exchange for…something. I can’t get into what exactly with you just yet.”

“Does he think you’re happy?”

“Yes.” She nods. “Well, for the most part. I do my thing, and he does his. His job keeps him pretty busy, and I often pretend to be asleep when he gets home. He doesn’t satisfy my needs, so to speak, and I’ve given up on trying. I want to be freed from him.” She pulls out a packet of paper from her purse, and gives it to Harry. “That’s a copy of the contract he and my father signed when they made the deal. I’m not great with legal jargon. I thought maybe if you decide to take me on you could look that over and tell me if there’s any way, I can get out of this.”

“Are you over eighteen?”

“Yes, well over.”

“And were you over eighteen when you were married?”

“Yes.”

“Then how could your father barter you?”

“Where I come from…it can just be like that. The goods we get in exchange for my hand outweighed my happiness.”

“I’m so sorry.” Harry frowns. “My services aren’t exactly cheap.”

“I wouldn’t expect them to be. I can pay top dollar, if that’s what you require. I have money of my own.”

“Alright.” Harry sets the packet of papers onto his desk. “I’ll take a look at that soon, and give you a call.”

“Does that mean you’re taking me on?”

“I hate to see such a nice person be so unhappy.” Harry frowns. “I got into this business to help people, so I’ll help you, Mira.”

“Oh, thank you so much.” She smiles. “There are going to be some things in that contract that may shock you, so please don’t hesitate to call me directly with your questions.” She takes out a business card from her purse. “There’s all of my contact information. If anyone other than myself contacts you regarding all of this, don’t say a word.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good at keeping things confidential.”

“I heard you’re a very trustworthy attorney.” She nods, and stands to her feet. Harry does the same. “Thank you for taking the time to listen.” She extends her hand, and he takes it to shake.

“Of course, it’s what I’m here for.” He smiles and opens the door. He watches her leave, maybe for a little too long.

[DARK SIDED, COMING TO PATREON ON SATURDAY, OCTOBER 2ND @ 8AM EST] [Ask]

#dark sided #teaser #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x oc #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #sub!Harry #lawyer!Harry

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

Conundrum (A.B.)

Type: One-shot, challenge fic

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!reader Word Count: 7700 (:

Summary: conundrum - a confusing and difficult problem or question

Andy Barber is a difficult man whom you have yet to understand. He certainly doesn’t make it any easier; and right before Christmas, he manages to surprise you again.

Prompt: You have to look for a gift impromptu

Warnings: a smidge of angst, a drop of awkward humour, mention of death (mild AU - both Laurie and Jacob!), alcohol consumption, feels, explicit language, reader gets called a dumbass... that’s it I hope, lemme know

A/N: This is my submission for the Happy Hoelidays challenge. There’s no hoeing tho, shame on me. Also, if you want some music to go with this, know that I listened to ‘God I Hope This Year Is Better Than the Last’ by SYML an obscene amount of times.

Andy Barber was an enigma.

Reporters liked to think he wasn’t; almost a year ago, they tore down all the walls he had built up to protect the privacy of his family and they shed light into startingly intimate details of his life – and where they couldn’t shed light, they used their imagination and sold it with a claim of having a reliable source. Naturally, it worked; there were always people willing to believe it just so they obtained more of juicy gossip material.

There were wanabe psychologists who would address his trauma and tried to analyse his personality, the consequences he would suffer in the aftermath of the tragedy, who attempted to strip down his soul just to get a few more reads and generally talked about him as if they were best friends, as if they knew him.

It was all a load of bullshit.

The truth, you thought, was that no one knew him. If you were being honest, you weren’t sure if even his wife ever had, truly – but that was you under the influence of the little information you bothered to gather from the influx of crap that the media provided the public with.

What you believed was that the reporters and all the self-proclaimed experts on him knew nada.

Andrew Barber was and always would remain an enigma; to the public, to the little what remained of his family after the death of his wife and son, to his co-workers – the category which included you. If you could even call yourself a co-worker; you were simply a secretary. Granted, one whose previous employer let her peek over their shoulder quite a bit so you learned a thing or two about law, but Andy Barber was the lawyer. The former DA from Boston, who moved over to rule the DA office of Portland, your home.

Even after having been working with him for nine full months, Andy’s thoughts and feelings didn’t get any easier for you to read or predict. When he wanted to let you know he was disappointed, he did. When he was truly angry with someone, well, he wouldn’t let it go unnoticed either.

Other than that, however, you would have had better luck trying to decode the actual enigma-encrypted messages sent during World War II.

Small talk didn’t last longer than three sentences from you each. Work-related affaires were discussed in his office with politeness and with calm, rather dispassionate mannerism. If you caught a hint of a smile when an important case that helped people went his way (or the office’s way really), you considered it a miracle that sent your heart reeling.

He would sometimes smile only for you if you brought him a coffee without him asking first, simply because he looked like he needed one; at those times, he would thank you softly and let slip in your first name instead of referring to you with your last. Those were your favourite moments.

Well, almost.

You found him with a tumbler and an expensive whiskey on occasion when you were leaving the office late; you never commented on it, but there were four times he actually silently invited you to have a glass with him. You refused the first time and accepted the other three.

Those nights, you got a glimpse of the mystery of a man hidden behind surprisingly soft mannerism, one which was in such a sharp contrast to his shark-like demeanour he displayed in front of the judge and the jury. His scars ran deep, his hopes had been shattered, his life in the past year as bitter as the overpriced liquor. Your heart cracked for him to the point of nearly breaking altogether.

And yet, it was beating for him too; behind all that hurt, you couldn’t but notice certain gentleness. Yes, he could be scary, downright terrifying and when his temper got the best of him, the true rage on display, he was a force to be reckoned with. But oh, that gentleness. The kind shattered soul he hid so well every morning, more so on the days right after your little heart-to-hearts. Trying to build a working relationship with him – a friendship of a sort, anything you wanted to call it – was a game of push and pull and more of a string of guesses than an effort that would bore fruit.

You might have already given up on that and instead, with the ferocity you hadn’t known you possessed, you kept punching the crush you had on him; that silly thing that would always call louder and louder after he revealed a piece of him on one of the precious nights, only to shut you out completely the next morning.

Andy Barber had never even remotely showed a romantic interest in you and by God, did you not blame him for not being interested in anyone at all as far you knew. While you considered yourself a fairly capable worker and half-decent person, you were aware you could never measure up to him. Just another reason to push down the feelings you had for him, ones that seemed to bloom with more intensity whenever he raised the corners of his damn lips, when he asked a question about you during those stupid nights as if he cared— nonsense. You had to get rid of those. He didn’t even like you, barely acknowledged you in the end. Or did he? You honestly didn’t know.

Bottom line was that if you couldn’t get close enough, then the reporters knew jack shit, no matter how much reading on him they had done or how many books on psychology, criminology and law and shit they went through. Many people knew Andrew Barber’s name, but no one could hope to know him.

And yet, those assholes still called and asked about him.

It was the fourth one that day; December 23rd, over a year from the accusation of Jacob Barber, and those fucking vultures still called Andy Barber’s office. They weren’t even good newspapers and news sites anymore; obviously, because every rational decent person would have let the poor man rest. But nope. Not them.

“Portland’s DA office, secretary of Mr. Barber speaking. How may I help you?”

“Oh, wonderful! Is there any chance I could talk to Mr. Barber personally?” the chipper of a man asked on the other end of the line and just by not giving his name, he raised suspicion; was it forgetfulness caused by his distress or intention?

Fortunately for him and unfortunately for you, you had to be polite. Hot-shot lawyers and other important people rarely returned the courtesy, but that was the world you lived in.

“There might be, Mr-?”

“Oh, Connor. Peter Connor.”

“Well, Mr. Connor, what is your legal issue?” you asked patiently, writing down his name automatically.

“Well, you see, I would rather talk with Mr. Barber about—my delicate situation, in private.”

Your eyes narrowed as you stopped scribbling and spared a brief glance towards the door to Andy’s office. It was opened ajar in what could be an invitation, but all blinds on both the door and the windows were down in typical fashion.

Talk in private?

Yeah, not gonna happen. You knew a few tricks that these assholes calling the office tended to pull and whoever this man was, you were growing more suspicious by the minute that he was not seeking legal advice.

You went back to your notes and wrote down the word liar right next to his name and a question mark. Was he a liar? One way to find out you guessed; you caught your phone between your ear and your shoulder, opening a new tab in your browser to google the name along with a wild guess of him being a reporter.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Connor, I’m afraid I will need more information before I put you through. And I will probably need to make you an appointment, my boss is a very busy man-“

“Oh, is he? Lots of cases in Andrew Barber’s new district, huh?”

The blood in your veins was set aflame even before the search was done, because in an instant, you knew for sure.

And then you had it confirmed by the results.

This jerk had even given you his real name, utterly shameless. Sure, he could have only had the same name as the journalist you found, but what were the chances? Two days after you told his colleague – who had made it through your vetting, got an appointment and even got past the reception desk before you spotted him for what he was – to get lost and not try again?

Your pulse skyrocketed along with your blood pressure. Technically, you didn’t owe Andrew Barber anything, but he was respectful enough, didn’t make much trouble and for most time, was an okay boss to you.

You owed him this much: he was a decent guy. Why couldn’t other people show a shed of basic human decency too and leave him the fuck alone?

“That depends, Mr. Connor,” you purred, barely holding the outrage locked inside. You felt both energized by your anger and achingly tired and done with humanity. You rested your elbows on the desk and leaned onto it with a sigh, massaging the bridge of your nose, eyes closed. “Is he going to have to sue your rag of a newspaper or will you and your colleagues finally get the memo and leave. His. Personal. Life. Alone?!”

You most definitely strained the last words through your teeth, but you didn’t care anymore if you were being rude. He was the fourth reporter today ready to ask about Andy’s personal matters. The FOURTH!! He was lucky you didn’t tell him to go fuck himself… explicitly.

“Are you threatening me?” the man demanded, his voice insulted, losing all traced of pretence.

As if you ever. You knew better than that, working with lawyers.

“Nice try, Mr. Connor. I will thank you to never call this office again unless you have legal issues or a relevant question which you should direct to our PR department anyway. And if you could extend this to all editorial staff, please, preferably to all editorial staff in the United States, that would be splendid. Have a good day. Happy Holidays.”

You slammed the phone down, missing the slot for it, not caring. You were sure he would hang up on his own.

“Asshole,” you muttered under your breath and hid your face in your palms, grunting, fingertips sinking into your hair.

“I hope you don’t mean me,” sounded from the doorway and you yelped, honest to god yelped and straightened in your seat, head snapping up-

-only to meet your boss’ curious gaze. Hurt and anger casted shadows over his beautiful cerulean irises, but there was no mistaking the melancholy and resignation on his face either.

“Of course not!” you blurted out quickly, panic rising in your chest.

How much had he heard? Was he going to fire you for being unprofessional? Did he figure out what was this about— of course he did, there was little room left for doubt. Your choice of words was pretty straightforward.

Andy bounced off of the doorframe he was leaning onto, not easing his stance – his arms remained crossed over his chest and had you not been so alarmed, you would have indulged in the sight of his biceps nearly cutting through the seams of his shirt.

“Why do I get the impression that whoever you were talking to was not the first person to call the office to feed on ‘the misery man’ that Andrew Barber is?” he more stated than asked, his tone unmistakably bitter.

You gulped as he approached your desk, nails digging into your palms. You had no idea what to say. Once again, you couldn’t quite read Andy; you had no idea where this was heading and how you should answer without setting him off, making him sadder or even more bitter. And without getting fired, obviously.

“I—uhm, well, I suppose you heard me, so you know he wasn’t the first—Mr. Barber. I apologize-“ His eyebrows rose a fraction and you didn’t dare to analyse why. “-if I was too loud. But--- humanity sucks.”

The moment the last two words left your mouth, you instantly regretted them, snapping your eyelids close and squeezing. You were sure you were about to have bloody crescents in your palms from your nails at this point.

Did you really just say that? To your boss, no less?

Way to go, me.

“Not wrong there. Why don’t you take your lunch break now?” he offered casually.

You nodded as you felt the tell-tale burn of tears forming in your eyes; fuck, this was humiliating. Why had he had to walk in exactly in that moment? And now using that tone?

He didn’t say anything else and you didn’t dare to look at him. Only when you heard him walk back to his office and close the door behind him, you opened your eyes and released the breath you were holding, your heart hammering in your chest.

Gulping and swallowing your tears before they could escape, you grabbed your purse and your coat, rushing out to the cold air of Portland winter.

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

Andy didn’t bring up the incident again when you came back. You had a short list of assignments for the upcoming days off which you went over with him before parting ways for the holidays. You mentioned you would probably drop in tomorrow despite not necessarily having to, but wished him Happy Holidays in case you’d miss him during your brief visit.

The corners of his lips twitched at that, but he wished you the same. You supposed his holidays weren’t about to be happy – more like the opposite. Last year, he celebrated with his family, even if it might have been already falling apart. This year however…

Your heart cracked another fraction for the man and you wondered if you should leave some cookies for him in the office tomorrow at least. Then you realized he would probably hate it, either being bitter about feeling like a charity case or hating the reminder of what he had lost, what wasn’t waiting for him at home anymore. Not to mention that maybe even the poinsettia, which you had placed on his office window two days ago and neither of you commented on, was already too much.

The only cookies you baked that night were the ones you knew should stay in a box with apples for over a day, the cookies you were supposed to bring to your sister’s house for Christmas, because your nephew Harry loved them.

With cheesy Christmas songs in the background and a bottle of wine for the party of one, you kneaded the double batch of dough and couldn’t but spare your achingly handsome and likely lonely boss a thought and maybe… maybe a tear or two.

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

The office was empty when you arrived on 24th at around half past four; everyone left as soon as possible, which was to be expected. Admittedly, despite not knowing what you would talk about with Andy, you found your heart sinking when you didn’t see light peeking through the blinds of your and his offices. You had expected him to be working to avoid being at home; but then again, you knew next to nothing about him. Maybe he was with a girlfriend. With a boyfriend. With former colleagues. With his deceased wife’s family. It was only assumption of yours that he might be lonely on Christmas.

You shook your head at your train of thought as you unlocked your office, mentally going over which files you needed to bring home, trying to eliminate the amount as not to endanger confidential information by taking them away from the safety of the bureau.

You froze in your tracks when you found a rather large piece of paper folded into a roof on your desk. A note, you realized, frowning and slowly walking to the suspicious object.

There were very few people who could enter your space, namely three: the janitor, you and Andy. The first option was unlikely, the second impossible, the third confusing. You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just shoot you a text if he needed anything.

You halted in your steps, the air knocked out of your lungs when you noticed that the note was not the only new item on your desk.

There was a box.

A box roughly size of your extended palm. And if you weren’t mistaken… it looked like a jewellery gift box.

“What the hell?” you asked yourself breathlessly, your curiosity getting the best of you; more so as you recognized what was most definitely Andy’s handwriting on the paper.

Andrew Barber, your boss, with whom you weren’t sure what your relationship was – if there was any at all – might have got you jewellery.

Say that again?

A tiny voice in your head told you he might have just used the box for something else entirely, but that didn’t seem to be his style.

So you picked up the gift carefully, almost reverently removing the lid, your heart pounding in your chest, stomach twisting with pleasant anticipation; with the familiar rush that kids feel when opening a present with high hopes of what could await them inside.

Your lips parted in pure shock, you mind turning blank.

There were no words in English language to express how… how absolutely magnificent the bracelet inside was.

Five thin circles with symbols made of slender lines inside, looking like charms, but withing the body of the bracelet, one clasped to the next one with delicate ellipses. The metal reflected the fluorescent lights of the office, glimmering softly, appearing almost fluid, a thin stream of water trapped in a box.

You actually had to blink and it took all your willpower not to pinch yourself, because—how-

How had he known? Where had he got it? Holy mother of Jesus, how much had he spent on it?

And why get you a gift in the first place? You were… acquaintances at best. Yes, there were almost friendly moments, and then there were those nights, but this was---this- you couldn’t even---- think, apparently.

Keeping an eye on the opened box, you gently placed it back on the desk, afraid to even touch the metal itself. You blindly reached into your purse in search for your phone to dial the only number that made sense for you to dial at that moment.

It sure as hell wasn’t Andy’s.

Nothing but a dialling tone sounded for half a minute, the time seemingly endless. You fell heavily into your chair, still staring at the absolutely gorgeous and thoughtful gift.

How did he know?!

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as your sister still didn’t answer the phone and your hand automatically reached for your necklace to toy with.

And that was when it hit you.

Your necklace; one you got from your sister during the period of your biggest obsession with the Divergence series. Two arrows in a circle pointing different directions, the symbol for a ‘divergent’ person. Your eyes wandered over the five circles of the bracelet – scales, an eye, hands connected, a flame, a tree –, an incredulous chuckle escaping you.

But--- you didn’t think he would notice. You didn’t even wear it all the time, rather often, yes, and yeah, perhaps you did have a bit of a bad habit of fumbling with it when nervous-

“Hey sis! What’s up?” Amber’s voice sounded cheerily from the microphone. You jumped in your seat, startled by her as she interrupted your musing. “Please tell me you’re still coming, because Harry wouldn’t shut up about his favourite chocolate chip.”

You cleared your throat, barely able to comprehend what she was talking about, too caught up in your head.

“I—hi. Uhm- I need help actually,” you finally stuttered and you could practically feel her frown even over the phone.

“Oh? Is everything okay? You sound… a little strange.”

“That’s-“ not wrong. You scanned the office and listened in for the tinniest noise, making sure you were still alone. “I’m at the office and I--eh, I found a gift for me.”

“Awww, a secret admirer? Nice!” Amber chuckled, then abruptly stopped. “…unless it’s a stalker. You don’t think you have a stalker, right? Is that why you called me, so I could tell George? He’s not on duty-“

This time you did roll your eyes at the mention of her husband who happened to be a police officer.

“No, Amber, I have no stalker as far as I know. I’m pretty sure I can recognize my boss’ handwriting at this point.”

Nothing but silence could be heard from the other end for a good minute. You bit your lip in anticipation of… something.

And then: “You’re shitting me.”

“Not really-“

“Holy mother of-!” your sister squealed loudly and you winced, instinctively withdrawing from the phone. “Your boss got you a Christmas present?! --Wait. Is it a Walmart card? Because if it is, then this call is pointless, because that’s boring as-“

“No, Amber, he—he gave me a bracelet,” you admitted softly, your gaze once again wandering over the said object. Beautiful. Fragile. Yours, apparently. What?

When Amber only responded with silence again, words suddenly spilled from your lips, all the mixed feelings you had about receiving the bracelet released, relief singing in your veins as you vented.

“And-and it’s actually really beautiful and--- it’s thoughtful, because it has all the fractions from Divergence on it? But not like something you buy for ten dollars, only paying for the copyright or whatever and the quality is shitty, no, I mean--- it looks pretty, eh, delicate.”

It did, awfully so, which was why you still couldn’t make yourself to touch it even if you really, really liked it and wanted to do nothing but to wear it for the rest of your damn life.

“And expensive. I-- I think it might be real silver and…” you wavered, almost scared to share your last observation out loud for it seemed impossible for it to be true. “Amber, you know I looked through a lot of Divergence-related goods so I would know. It- it doesn’t look familiar at all, it’s--- I think it might be custom-made.”

You choked on the last word, tasting so strange on your tongue as you couldn’t quite believe that you were saying it. You felt--- incredulous to put it simply… and touched and- absolutely bewildered.

Silence stretched in the follow-up to your rambling and you felt your brows drawing together.

“…Amber? You there?”

“Oh yeah, I’m here,” she assured you swiftly, mischief curling around the tone of her voice like a smirk on her lips you couldn’t see. “Just wondering how could you not tell me you started sleeping with him-“

“What?! No!” you protested instantly, straightening in the chair. “I’m not—I’m not his sugar baby or whatever! This is not a ‘thank you for letting me fuck you raw’ gift-“

“Not that you would complain from what I heard and saw-“ she hummed playfully.

She was right. But shush!

“Screw you!”

“George does, that’s why we have Harry in the first place,” she sassed you. “But… sis? What kind of a gift it is then?”

And wasn’t that the question.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, you should, because from what you told me, you guys aren’t even friends. Nota bene, this isn’t exactly a gift you give to a friend,” she pointed out, addressing one of the million issues concerning the damn (gorgeous) bracelet.

“I-- I guess?” You were sure, in fact. This was something to give to a… well, to a lover, to a partner. “But- Amber, he doesn’t--- that’s not-“

“What did the note say?”

“Huh?”

“You said you recognized his handwriting,” she reminded you slowly as if speaking to a five-year-old. “What does the note say?”

You glanced at the note again noncommittally, remembering exactly what it said. Pretty much nothing. Definitely nothing to go on.

“Uhm… Thank you. Happy Holidays.”

There was a beat of silence, again. “That’s it?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Eloquent.” You rolled your eyes at her sarcastic tone. She should see him at court. True though, on personal level, he wasn’t exactly chatty. Unless he opened up a bit over a glass of whiskey--- anyway, she had a point, obviously. “What are you gonna do?”

That snapped you from your musing like a shot of life into your bloodstream.

“That’s why I’m calling! I should-- I should get him something too, right?” Right?! Absolutely. “Oh god, I hate last-minute shopping. And I don’t even have a fucking clue what to buy! Well, a good whiskey is always a safe bet I guess, but supporting his drinking habits doesn’t sound like a good idea. Plus, it’s kinda… impersonal with comparison to what he gave me.”

Though if there was one thing you learned about Andy Barber, it was that he could appreciate the high-quality liquor, so perhaps it wouldn’t have been as impersonal as one might think.

“Well, I don’t know him so I can’t really help, but what you got from him should definitely give you a clue.”

“A clue?” you parroted, confused.

“I don’t mean like a clue for what you should buy him. But… look, even if you didn’t suspect that it’s custom-made, which whoa, he has to pay a lot of attention to buy you something like this. Much more attention than you thought.”

“…okay?”

“He likes you, you dumbass! It doesn’t matter what you get him, he’ll be happy you got him anything in the first place!”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you deadpanned, unsure which statement you were referring to. That he liked you or that you shouldn’t take care to choose something that would really bring him at least a little joy.

You tried your best to ignore how your heart skipped the beat at the former.

“Whatever. Harry’s throwing a hungry eye on me, I gotta go fix him a snack unless I want him to eat all the candy again. Good luck!”

“Amber!“ you called out in honest despair, panic rising in your chest, only to get no answer.

You pulled the phone from your ear to look at the screen, already knowing what awaited you.

Disconnected.

Fuck.

It seemed you were on your own. Wasn’t that wonderful?

You shot your sister a simple ‘I hate you’ text, the gears in your head already turning frantically in order to figure out what you could get Andy.

Amber replied with a set of laughing emojis within seconds. Bitch, leaving you alone to deal with a situation like this! What a sister she was.

You sighed, admiring the delicate lines of the bracelet again, torn between indulgence and guilt. There was no questioning whether you should buy Andy something too.

Say yay for the last-minute shopping for a man out of your league and whom you had no idea what you should get.

You were utterly at loss, growing anxious not only about the difficult choice of a gift, but also about possible delivery, wondering what should you even tell him and when.

Maybe though…. just maybe, you were getting kinda excited about what you were about to do too.

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

Three hours.

You spent almost three hours at the mall where you could barely breathe because of the crazy crowds and yet you were none the wiser; your excitement left you quickly, once again replaced by despair. It took you three hours and passing the lingerie shop four times, a shop with pieces on display that barely covered anything, intended for either bedroom games or a swimming pool, before it finally hit you.

You cursed under your breath, calling yourself an idiot in murmur loud enough to have few people around you look at you in surprise.

“Dumbass, I’m such a dumbass,” you continued your monologue as you fished out your phone, quickly scrolling through your contacts.

To say that the person on the other end was shocked to hear from you at this time of month and hour was an understatement.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Lee. I have… eh, a favour to ask…”

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

You were being ridiculous.

Absolutely and utterly ridiculous as you stood on a modest porch in front of a small family house, the roof hiding you from the intrusive drizzle but not keeping you quite safe from the wind as you clutched your handbag to your side as if it was your lifeline, cursing yourself for not wearing a scarf in December.

Your nose was practically freezing, your cheeks burned from the wind and your hands were cold too, because you were stupidly underdressed; as if you haven’t lived in Portland your whole life.

But that wasn’t the main issue; an Uber dropped you off about five minutes ago and still, here you were, standing outside and trying to convince yourself to ring the bell.

The plan had been to finish packing a bag and leave around 10 p.m. to your sister’s house, where you would spend the night so you could be with her family on Christmas Day from the very beginning. But then Andrew fucking Barber, your fabulous boss, left a gift in your office, a breath-taking bracelet now sitting low on your right wrist, and it all went to hell.

Maybe you could still make it to your sister’s house – it was shortly after nine, your bag waiting on your bed, so maybe you should just call another Uber and be on your way. Maybe you could leave the silly envelope in the post-box just so you wouldn’t have to deal with Andy’s reaction; after all, he had chosen the same approach; cookies be damned, there would be more left for Harry then-

But you really, really wanted to thank him. And you might be shitting your pants, but the prospect of seeing him in a domestic environment, possibly more relaxed, perhaps nearing the man you had had the honour to see on those nights… you couldn’t make yourself to pass on that opportunity.

At the same time, you kept reminding yourself that Andy did not expect to see you tonight, he might not even be home – you were pretty sure a dim light was coming from the living room, the TV on probably, but yeah, you could keep lying to yourself – and that he might be grieving and genuinely might hate you for invading his privacy since you had to search his home address in the official documents.

Yeah, you definitely should just spin on your heels and-

“Oh for God’s sake,” you muttered under your breath and pressed the doorbell, your heart suddenly hammering in your ribcage as you realized there were no takebacks now. “Shit.”

Maybe you should just run. What if he had fallen asleep already and you just woke him up?! Oh, he was so going to be pissed and he might even show that emotion, screaming you down like he did one with that intern-

A scruffle on the other side of the door snapped you from your hopeless expectations and you sucked in a horrified breath.

And then the door slid open before you could react and you were certain you looked like a deer caught in the headlights, a semi-frozen deer to make the situation worse and--- there he was.

You quickly dropped your gaze, only then realizing how rude that was and that you should meet his eye no matter how much you did and did not want to do so at the same time. As you gaze travelled up, you found that a domestic Andy was everything you imagined he would be; black socks, loose dark grey sweats, pale t-shirt slightly wrinkled. One of his arms hung loosely by his side, the other still at the door-knob as you continued your inspection, gaze caressing the line of his bare forearm, reaching the sleeves that were hugging his biceps precisely. Broad shoulders, perfectly trimmed beard framing plush lips with the slightest hint of a curious smile.

You smiled awkwardly as your eyes met his watching you with interest, dimmed with a hint of a doze-off you must have woken him up from. You tried not to dwell on the inconspicuous redness surrounding his irises.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up!” you blurted out quickly, rewarded with a light shake of his head and a stifled yawn; subtle.

“You didn’t. Hi,” he greeted you, only to make you realize that 1. you forgot to say hi and 2. his post-nap voice was a thing from wet dreams-- which was definitely not relevant at that moment.

“Hi,” you offered unsurely, eyes roaming his face, searching for any trace of anger. All you found was bewilderment; if pleasant or not, you couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry for barging in. I just… uhm- I wanted to thank you and-“

The hint of a smile on his lips grew a fraction, expression softening at your admission and before you could find your footing, he opened the door further, subtly extending his hand to usher you in.

Your heart skipped a beat, the strangest feeling tickling your gut, teeth sinking into your lower lip, the grip on your handbag growing stronger. Yet you accepted, taking two reluctant steps inside. The door clicked shut behind you, sealing whatever fate awaited you.

Attempting not to look too nosy, you turned back to Andy rather than scanning the hall.

Words got stuck in your throat. As tired as he looked, worn to a bone by everything but physical exercise, you couldn’t but marvel at what a handsome man he was, even without his smart suits and ties and neatly styled fluffy hair; it was still very fluffy, just more of a mess than a fashion statement.

God, wasn’t he beautiful.

He kept looking at you too in mute anticipation of something, appearing mildly lost just as you were, giving the impression of a man who couldn’t tell what to expect.

Your gaze locked with his, unyielding, a gorgeous trap and you knew you had to say or do something before your heart gave out entirely.

Your mouth opened, no words coming out and you cursed yourself, simply opening the bag and pulling out a Tupperware box with half the cookies you baked last night, practically shoving it to Andy’s capable hands.

He accepted the item with eyebrows shooting up once before settling back, eyes misting for a moment. His fingertips brushed yours as he took a firm hold of the box, the not-quite-there smile of his remaining on his lips.

He seemed perplexed.

You felt like an idiot.

“This feels so silly now,” you admitted with a sigh, realizing the absurdity of the situation only accented by the fact that you stood there in the hall of his home in your coat and high-boots, ridiculously overdressed in comparison to him.

“It’s not,” he whispered finally, forcing the corners of his mouth to rise higher. “Thank you. Didn’t know you baked. Should have figured.”

You shrugged. “Never came up.”

Something shifted in his expression as did in the air; you knew he sensed it too. The unspoken hung between you, that you meant not in your daily routine at the office, but on your private nights, so rare and precious, so desperately pretended to be non-existent the next morning.

Your gaze lowered as the silence fell on your pair again and you awkwardly shifted your weight from one leg to the other. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“So, uh-“

“Thank you for the bracelet. Really. It was-” you licked your lips, meeting his eyes again, so deep, so blue and somehow soft and you forgot what you were about to say. “Eh- I wasn’t expecting it. I-- I didn’t think you’d… notice. And--- care.”

His brows furrowed for a bit and he placed the box on the shoe rack next to him; an action he soon regretted you guessed, because his fingers went for his wrist as if he wanted to readjust his cufflinks, a nervous habit of his, only to meet bare skin. Good to know you weren’t the only one iffy in this conversation.

“But you liked it?” he asked almost shyly and the corners of your lips rose on instinct as did you right hand, the sleeve of your coat sliding down a fraction, enough to reveal the new accessory. “Looks pretty on you.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers gently slid over one of the symbols, brushing over the sensitive skin of your wrist. His gaze returned to yours, a flicker of something heated in his eyes, calling butterflies to your stomach.

Lord have mercy.

“Thanks- uhm--- thank you. Here, I got you something too.” You quickly reached into the handbag again to hide how flustered you felt – for a different reason than awkwardness.

He had touched your wrist and you turned into a blushing mess. Fabulous. And to make the matter more humiliating, now a twinkle of amusement played in his irises.

“You gave me a plant. And cookies.”

“Yeah. Kinda? But that was more of a… gesture?” you offered reluctantly as you handed him the envelope. “I uh—this is probably stupid, but, uhm--- here.”

“Stop putting yourself down,” he muttered darkly, causing your cheeks to burn hotter. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me anything.” Pulling out the firm colourful paper, he blinked a few times, seemingly surprised. Ha, you bet he expected a Walmart card! Instead, there was a voucher for five entrances to the swimming pool where your friend Lee worked at. “Oh. Thank you. That’s really nice of you.”

A stone the size of Texas fell from your stomach and you couldn’t help the sigh of relief. Andy seemed genuinely pleased by your choice of gift and you felt your whole body relax.

“It’s just… eh, just for half an hour each and you can pick them on a horizon of three months. I’m not sure how often you like going, so… uhm, my friend works at the place, so you just give her a call and it shouldn’t be a problem to book it for mornings right before the opening hours,” you explained lamely, earning a puzzled look.

“How did you know I liked going when no one’s there?”

That caused one corner of your lips twitch in slight amusement and your eyebrow arch, even if his reasons weren’t exactly funny; his cheeks flushed a hint of red, a sight to behold for more than one reason. It was nice to have the roles reserved, you making him feel flustered for once.

Really? The rather quiet lone-wolf Andy Barber, followed by reporters still, just asked you this? Cute.

“…that’s fair,” he said and for a brief second, you were afraid you had shared your thoughts out loud. But he didn’t look offended, so probably not. The self-awareness then. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m-eh, glad you like it.”

You stood there again, both smiling – a little reluctantly, a little soft – and once again you had no idea how to proceed.

What you did know was that you enjoyed talking to him, even if it was awkward like this. You enjoyed seeing him in his natural habitat, in his home, relatively relaxed. You thrived seeing more of this Andy Barber, just a handsome guy, not Andrew Barber, the hot-shot lawyer.

He was the first to break the silence, hesitantly gesturing further into the house.

“Would you—would you like to-“

YES! was what you brain screamed.

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother…” was what you told him, mentally cuffing yourself on the head.

“You’re not,” Andy opposed lowly. The whisper of your name that followed made you shiver.

His gazed trailed all over your face, so intense you would swear he saw right into your soul and further. You felt naked, but for some reason not too vulnerable – Andy seemed to like what he saw, expression genuinely inviting and yet. Yet there was a subtle promise of this not being a friendly invite which was as exciting as unsettling. The air appeared the crackle and you found yourself yearning to taste the electricity on your tongue.

“May I?”

He beckoned to your coat, suddenly free hands already rising and all you could do was to nod, automatically placing your handbag on the floor and unbuttoning the garment. Once if fell open, revealing simple black jeggings and a light pink sweater, Andy sidestepped you, fingers sliding under the hem, cautiously skimming over the bare skin above your collarbones, leaving a burning sensation in their wake.

The warmth of his fingertips seeped into your flesh and yet you shuddered, goosebumps rising on your skin.

You watched Andy put your coat away with care, turning back to you torturously slowly. He filled all of your personal space, so close and too far. You weren’t sure when exactly the air turned so heavy in your lungs, but as your gaze travelled to his lips, not missing how his sought yours in return, you felt all the oxygen leave the room.

“Andy,” the word rolled off your tongue, nothing but a soundless breath of his name.

His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips again and back before he spoke, voice barely above a whisper, hoarse.

“Am I imagining it?”

He didn’t have to say what and still you knew with absolute certainty that he was addressing the unbearable and delicious tension, the one that had been building and coming to life during those three nights you had spent talking in his office late--- and now it was back with smouldering intensity.

“You’re not.”

You shivered and gulped when he cautiously took a single little step further into your space, your gaze falling to his chest, lowering in sudden surge of the deep-rotted insecurity, whispering about your and his world being thousands of miles apart. And yet, your heart raced in anticipation, your hopes dizzyingly high that you might touch heaven, even if for a few moments.

When his fingertips grasped your jaw, tough light and oh so careful, your eyelids fluttered close, already indulging in the sensation. God, his touch was so soft despite the roughness of his fingertips…

As if he wished to torture you or to indulge that sweet little moment before lips met lips, he stopped an inch from his destination, his breaths as wavering as yours, the words whispered straight into your mouth just a little broken.

“I’m fucked up.”

Your brain basked in blissful fog, but this got across, causing you to tense briefly.

You couldn’t deny what he was saying, you both knew he spoke the ultimate truth – well, you guessed. What had happened to him, having his life dismantled and then losing his family, that sort of thing was bound to leave a scar. Confirming it bluntly though, that felt unforgiving, only adding insult to injury.

“We all are,” you whispered instead, not only because you wouldn’t say ‘fucked up’, the words too harsh.

And it wasn’t trivializing the tragic turn his life had taken. It wasn’t downplaying the depth of his wounds. It wasn’t necessarily implying that you had been through something equally horrible either. Most importantly, it wasn’t you mocking him.

And somehow, he understood that; even if he could have interpreted it in every wrong way imaginable and shove you away, insulted, disgusted.

But no, in that fleeting moment that meant everything, Andy understood that this was your acceptance; this was you telling him that you were willing to try; take whatever he offered and give anything you could in return.

Finally, his lips brushed over yours, slightly chapped and oh so warm and delicious, withdrawing too soon, leaving you to savour the taste as your ran your tongue over your own lips. You inhaled shakily, overwhelmed by everything that was him, powerful, electrifying and then your hand was somehow on his chest, your palm laid over his racing heart, your fingers twitching as his ribcage expanded with a sharp inhale.

Blindly, your mouth searched his again, his whiskers tickling softly and scratching at once, a pleasant sensation on your sensitive skin as he grew bolder, and truly attached your lips in a kiss that made you feel lightheaded with the emotion poured into it. Your hand curled around his nape, an instinct to pull him closer, fingers toying with the short soft hair there, drawing a hum from within the expanse of his chest.

You granted him access to your mouth when he wordlessly asked, but it was him who retreated shortly after that, his heart now appearing as if in pain with its furious beats under your palm. His breaths started coming out short and it dawned to you what was wrong. How fast this could have felt to him, even if he was the one to start it.

‘I’m fucked up,’ he had said. Too caught in the moment, you hadn’t fully realized the extent of his words perhaps.

But you did now – at least a little better than before.

So when he rested his forehead against yours and a breathless ‘sorry’ slipped from his lips, you shook your head lightly and planted a kiss on his cheek, hand still on the back of his head, fingers running over his scalp in a hopefully soothing motion.

“I’ve got you, Andy. You lead.”

You had no strength to keep him close when he pulled his face away, your eyes snapping open in fright that you had said something terribly wrong.

But Andy’s cerulean eyes were big and glassy, grateful and softly speaking about him being… moved by your proposition. Your heart felt like it just grew twice its size, too big to fit into your chest at what a breath-taking picture he was.

The next thing you knew, he dropped a chaste kiss to your forehead and pulled you into his arms, an almost protective embrace, kissing the top of your head for a good measure and you melted against his large frame, smiling into t-shirt.

“Thank you,” he murmured breathlessly into your hair and your smile widened, remembering the note he had left with the exquisite gift that had started everything that led you right here into this moment.

“Happy Holidays.”

Thank you for reading! I’ve been sitting on this since the beginning of damn November. I hope you enjoyed.

It was my first (and maybe last) time writing Andy, so I hope it was alright. Feedback always appreciated.

P.S. – sorry if the nosy reporters thing offended you.

P.P.S. - …I know, the prompt was veeery loosely filled. Shush.

Pretty divider by whismicalrogers.

#happyhoelidays2020 #andy barber x reader #andy barber imagine #andy barber x you #defending jacob #post defending jacob #andy barber #holiday fic #christmas fic #andy barber fluff #andy barber angst #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber fanfic #fanfiction #challenge fic #conundrum #anika ann

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delicioussshame · 3 years

Text

Sugar daddy AU: new chapter. That’s it, that’s the fic.

The world has never stopped spinning for Shen Yuan before, so why would it now?

He’s sure Luo Binghe is thrilled with his current situation. If he really wanted to create a perfect bubble where he would be the center of Shen Yuan’s universe, he has succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. He’s been all Shen Yuan has been able to think about. The moral conundrum of considering whether you’re attracted to your former student, and if so, whether you can and should accept his affection, has been dominating his every moment. Each time he thinks that yes, he could see himself allowing this, allowing Luo Binghe the more he has so visibly been craving, he falters. In a way, it seems like a culmination of all his failures; a failed career he’s a disgrace to and a return to values he’d sworn to leave behind with his family.

But maybe, just maybe, Binghe would be worth it. Shen Yuan thinks if anyone could make those concerns seem ridiculous with only the power of their presence by his side, it would be Luo Binghe.

All his hesitations don’t stop his heart from freezing in his chest where the school sends an email regarding his teaching plan for the upcoming term.

It takes him a few minutes to calm down, to ride the wave of anxiety that returning to the beat of regular employment brings. He hasn’t looked forward to returning to class for years, but after those sweet weeks spent doing nothing but relaxing? Facing coworkers that were at best indifferent, at worst downright abusive for the sake of disinterested students is such an unappealing prospect that it almost gives him nausea.

He’s been too spoiled. Shen Yuan normally spends the summer working part-time jobs to make ends meet. This year, Luo Binghe had swiped all those worries away. One of the first things he’d done was tell Shen Yuan that he’d be paying his rent for now, like he would be providing for all his other needs. Shen Yuan had protested, but he’d known it was pointless. How was he supposed to stop Luo Binghe from sending money to his landlord?

Without those preoccupations, Shen Yuan had permitted himself freedom from work in general. He had spared not a thought to that most unpleasant matter. His romantic life, if it could be called that, had demanded all his attention.

Now, enough was enough. This had been fun, but Shen Yuan had a job to do. No matter how much he dreads it, he has to review his lesson plan.

Such is life.

_________________

It takes Luo Binghe only one cursory look at Shen Yuan to notice something went very, very wrong. His dear teacher is tense, hunched over his desk, hand on his forehead as if he’s trying to hold a headache at bay. Shen Yuan hasn’t appeared this stressed since he set foot inside Luo Binghe’s home. He radiates distress like he did that day, when Luo Binghe went to visit him and found him on the verge of collapse.

Back then, all he wanted was to stop that collapse.

That conviction has never faltered.

Gently, Luo Binghe taps Shen Yuan’s shoulder. “Laoshi?”

Shen Yuan doesn’t turn. “Binghe, not now. I’m busy.”

Luo Binghe glances at the document he’s worked on, and swears inwardly. Is all it took to reverse all the progress they made a reminder of that dreaded job?

Shen Yuan isn’t going back, and that’s final. “Why is Laoshi wasting his valuable time on this? Doesn’t he trust his Binghe?”

Shen Yuan turns toward him, annoyance visible on his face. “What does trust have to do with this?”

He stays firm. “I told Laoshi all I wanted was for him to be happy and healthy. I promised I would do anything for this to happen. His job doesn’t make him happy. Why would he return to it? He still has a few days to send his notice in time. He can leave the school behind and stay with me instead.”

Shen Yuan rolls his eyes. “Binghe, don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. I see no reason why Laoshi should go back when he doesn’t need to work.”

“I do need to work. I can’t rely on Binghe’s good will for the rest of my life. Sooner or later, he’ll get tired of paying for an old man and will look to buy a younger, sweeter companion.”

There is so much wrong with this sentence Luo Binghe is struck silent. Shen Yuan knows better than this. He’s just in too fool a mood to act like it.

He regains control of himself. “First, Laoshi must never talk of himself like he’s a passing fancy I feel like throwing money at. It’s insulting both to yourself and to my love for you. Second, he can rely on me however he wants to. If he’s not secure with his current position, that can be dealt with. I will happily pay whatever lawyer he chooses to draft any arrangement he deems agreeable. I can transfer him a set amount of money each week that he can manage at his discretion. I can also give him a lump sum, significant enough that if something were to happen, he could live by himself, though he’s already my will’s sole beneficiary. Work is unnecessary.”

At this, Shen Yuan shakes. “I’m sorry? Did you just say that in the event of your death, you’re leaving me everything? Me?”

Luo Binghe doesn’t know why Shen Yuan is so surprised. “Who else? Laoshi knows I have no family. I have no plan to die before Laoshi, but if it were to happen, that’s no reason not to keep my promise.” It won’t, of course. Luo Binghe won’t allow it.

“Are you serious? That’s something you do for a spouse, not a dumb childhood crush.”

He genuinely thought they were over this. “Laoshi isn’t a crush. He’s someone I’ve been in love with for since I was a teenager. Didn’t I say I wanted him by my side at all times? I planned consequently.” If Shen Yuan wants children, modifications will be made to the will, but this won’t be happening anytime soon. For now, Luo Binghe wants him all to himself.

“I… We’re not even a couple yet! Binghe is being reckless! If he’s this open, what’s stopping me from fleecing him for all he’s got and leaving him destitute!”

Luo Binghe laughs, encouraged by the “yet”. “Laoshi would never. He’s too good a man to do such a thing.”

“I could! Binghe thinks he knows me so well, but the truth is he doesn’t. He’s got this image of me as a saint, as a person without flaws nor desires, but he’s wrong. Every day, I take advantage of Binghe’s kindness.”

Shen Yuan is the one who doesn’t know himself. “Taking what’s freely offered is not taking advantage.”

“It is when no sane person would make the offer!”

“Does Laoshi think me insane, then?”

“Well, no. I know Binghe is very smart.”

“Then why not trust I know what I’m doing?”

“Because you don’t!”

This is going nowhere. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m making Laoshi happy by keeping him from a job that is killing him.” He sighs. “If Laoshi absolutely feels like he needs to earn his own income, I will support him until he finds a decent job, or will pay for his continued education so that he can find something better, but I would much, much prefer he doesn’t bother. It’s stress he doesn’t need, for no reason. I just cannot accept his return to a school that has only one good point: him. It’s not good for him. As I said earlier, whatever he needs as collateral to feel safe, I’m willing to provide, as long as he does what’s best for himself.”

Shen Yuan looks speechless.

Luo Binghe doesn’t flinch.

“Every time I think Binghe must be fooling himself, or fooling me, he goes and does something like this, something that no one else would do, as if to prove his honesty. He makes me feel like an idiot.”

“That must be novel. I imagine someone as wonderful as Laoshi doesn’t feel that way often.”

“Just most days of my life.”

“Then his life must change. Laoshi should only feel good.” Which is something Luo Binghe would gladly help with, no matter when and where.

He takes Shen Yuan’s hand in his; presses a chaste kiss to the top of it. “Please. Don’t go.”

Silence rests heavy on his shoulders for a while, until Shen Yuan breaks. “I’ll consider it.”

Luo Binghe embraces him and decides to wait.

_________________

The notice is sent two days later.

_________________

One moment Luo Binghe is preparing to go to bed, the next Shen Yuan, still damp from the shower, sits on his lap and kisses him.

It takes Luo Binghe negative one second to respond in kind, to open his mouth and to kiss back, his arms snaking around Shen Yuan’s waist to pull him closer and keep him there. Laoshi is the one who initiated! Luo Binghe can’t allow him to take it back.

Not that it seems like he will. Shen Yuan doesn’t struggle at all as Luo Binghe deepens the kiss, as his hands find the buttons of Shen Yuan’s sleeping shirt and open a trail he follows with his mouth. His laoshi’s breath fastens as Luo Binghe acquaints himself with his chest, fingers dancing over his ribs and down the gentle curve of his back.

Such good behavior has to be rewarded.

He does lift his eyes to Shen Yuan’s before removing his pants.

His beloved doesn’t say a word as he turns his gaze away demurely, but the caress in Luo Binghe’s hair speaks volumes, as does the seductive way he opens his thighs. If Shen Yuan has finally accepted his advances, how could Luo Binghe refuse him?

There are so many things Luo Binghe dreamed of doing to his Laoshi. He wants to spend hours worshipping him, keeping him in a state of unforgiving arousal until he begs for release. He wants to prepare him carefully and take him gently, painlessly, until all of Shen Yuan’s stress has left him and he’s barely conscious. He wants to fuck him until he screams. He wants to ride him languorously, for hours on end, until his body has taken the shape of Shen Yuan and no one else’s. He wants to be tied to the bed and used until he’s crying for mercy, and then be denied that mercy. He wants to go to work wearing the mark of Shen Yuan’s teeth high on his neck proudly, knowing his laoshi is wearing the exact same mark at home. He wants to fill him up with a remote-controlled toy and bring him to ecstasy during those interminable board meetings that would at least have a purpose, for once.

But for now, all he wants is to get to know all of Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan startles when Luo Binghe presses a kiss to his rapidly filling length, but he doesn’t protest. Good for him, because Luo Binghe isn’t sure he could have stopped. Not when he finally gets to find out how he tastes, how he sounds, how beautiful he looks when he flushes from pleasure.

He moans around him when Shen Yuan’s fingers twist into his hair. Shen Yuan could fuck his throat anytime, if he wanted to. Luo Binghe wouldn’t mind choking for him.

Maybe he could overcome that reflex with practice.

He would love to try.

It takes little time for Shen Yuan to groan and try to pull him off, which is a futile endeavor. Like Luo Binghe is going to waste any gift of Shen Yuan.

He greedily swallows it all down when Shen Yuan bites back his student’s name and digs his nails into Luo Binghe’s scalp.

Luo Binghe has never been this hard. “Laoshi, Shen Yuan, please.” He’d take anything. He’d rut against his leg if Shen Yuan would allow him to. “Please.”

Shen Yuan is bright red when his beautiful hand wraps around Luo Binghe’s cock, pulling and stroking in an awkward, unexperienced hold that Luo Binghe knows he’ll never get enough of. Just the sight of those white fingers on his feverish skin is enough to enthrall him. How is he going to last when they grow skilled? He’ll embarrass himself like the teenager he isn’t anymore! Even now, it takes all he has to last a few minutes.

He thought no sight could be fairer than Shen Yuan in pleasure, but the view of his fingers and chest covered in Luo Binghe’s come is so overwhelming Luo Binghe wishes his love was the type to allow for recording. If it were his face despoiled so… Luo Binghe would probably not soften at all.

Hopefully Shen Yuan will let him.

Another time. While Luo Binghe himself could easily keep on going for the rest of the night and the day after, what has happened tonight was probably a lot to ask of shy, proper Shen Yuan. Luo Binghe tries to soothe his exaltation, instead exploding in praises and endearments for his visibly embarrassed lover.

Luo Binghe ignores his attempts at distancing himself, instead holding him in his arm until Shen Yuan quiets and closes his eyes, waiting for sleep to take him.

_________________

Well, that happened.

It wasn’t… It was fine.

Okay, it was more than fine. One can only lie to themselves for so long. Luo Binghe is devastatingly handsome and convinced he loves Shen Yuan, for some reason. He’s not immune to that much charm!

He was kind. Shen Yuan had been as mentally prepared as he could be to find himself pushed on his back and taken, but Luo Binghe had waited.

Shen Yuan fully expects it will happen sooner or later. He’ll deal then. It will be hard on him, because quite honestly, he’s not sure anyone on Earth is built the right way to accommodate Luo Binghe, but he’ll do it. Binghe deserves it.

If he’s that serious about providing for Shen Yuan, he should get his money’s worth. Shen Yuan couldn’t live with himself otherwise.

#The Scum Villain Self Serving System #Scum Villain #BingQiu #That AU where LBH and SY fail to negociate their sugar relationship

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tiramisiyu · 3 years

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【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: Xia Yan Personal Story 4-4 Translation

Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist | Video

Chapter 4: 4-1 / 4-2 / 4-4 / 4-5 / 4-6 / 4-7 / 4-9 / 4-10 / 4-11 / 4-12 / 4-13 / 4-14 / 4-16

North District

Ji Xiaoyu and older sister Ji Xiaoqing originally lived in a two-bedroom apartment in the north district, left by their parents.

After that apartment was forcibly seized by the loan company, the sisters started to rent an apartment.

Xia Yan and I came to the place that Ji Xiaoyu was now renting, according to the address Sphinx gave. However, we waited for a long time, during which Ji Xiaoyu never showed up.

Xia Yan: According to Sphinx, Ji Xiaoyu took on three to four part-time jobs at the same time after Qian Yi’s death.

Xia Yan: Within a few months, she took on a severely high workload from morning to night. Typically, she returns home at around 11:30 at night.

Xia Yan: However, she suddenly left all her jobs two days ago.

MC: Could she be engaging a lawyer for a lawsuit? To repurchase her parents’ real estate?

MC: She’s saved enough money now and needs to focus on the case, so she left her jobs?

Xia Yan: Possibly.

MC: Then I could probably provide her legal assistance to talk to her, right? Perhaps she’ll be more willing to communicate with us then.

Xia Yan: Okay. I’ll say that I received a commission to investigate the Bedo Loan Company trap loan issue, and that I’m preparing to help my client file for a civil compensation lawsuit.

Xia Yan: If she wants to file for a civil lawsuit, she’ll probably be willing to talk to us.

Xia Yan and I were in the middle of talking when we heard faraway footsteps – it just happened to be Ji Xiaoyu.

In the video Xia Yan and I had seen in the afternoon, Ji Xiaoyu’s condition could be called “haggard” or “fragile”.

But now… she was basically skin and bones, surrounded by an air as heavy as death, and her face was completely frozen.

START INSPECTION

⊳ Box and leaflet

MC: (A casket and a cemetery leaflet…)

MC: (So she worked hard to accumulate money to buy a place in the cemetery for her sister?)

MC: (The casket looks newly bought. She’s probably selected a place at the cemetery and is preparing to bury it…)

What are the injuries on her right wrist?

⊳ Wrist slit injuries ⊳ Scrapes

MC: (Injuries layered on top of each other… she must have attempted suicide many times.)

MC: (Though they look like old injuries, she really doesn’t look like she’s come around…)

⊳ Clothes

MC: (Her clothes are splitting at the seams, yet there was no attempt to fix them… it looks like she doesn’t care about herself.)

⊳ Eyes

MC: (Such severe dark circles. She must not have slept in a long time…)

MC: (Ji Xiaoyu’s condition does not look good at all. I should carefully observe some more and think cautiously first.)

END INSPECTION

MC: Xia Yan, Ji Xiaoyu…

Xia Yan: Mhmm, I know. We have to find out what’s going on with her as soon as possible.

Xia Yan and I walked towards Ji Xiaoyu. However, she walked past us expressionlessly, without even giving us a single glance, as if we did not exist.

We could only double back a few steps and block her with outstretched hands.

Xia Yan: Hello, you must be Miss Ji Xiaoyu?

Ji Xiaoyu: …

Xia Yan: I am a private detective who’s received a commission to investigate the case of Bedo Loan Company’s trap loans.

Xia Yan: This case will open trial soon. My client plans to collect evidence to file for civil litigation.

Xia Yan: Miss Ji, may I ask you a few questions?

Xia Yan: With your clues, I might be able to find a few new investigative directions.

MC: Miss Ji, I am Lawyer MC.

MC: If needed, I can provide legal assistance for you and help you file for a civil compensation lawsuit.

Xia Yan and I handed her our own namecards, but Ji Xiaoyu did not take them.

She searched up the employers indicated on Xia Yan’s and my namecards, only stopping when she saw news that involved my legal defense.

She lifted those lifeless eyes slightly.

Ji Xiaoyu: What do you want to know? Do you want me to serve as a witness or write a testimony?

Ji Xiaoyu: I’m fine with it all. Only… my sister will be buried within a few days. Please do not give me trouble during this time.

MC: Understood, we will be careful.

Xia Yan: My apologies, Miss Ji, but we have a request right now.

Xia Yan: Can we speak with you about the progression of events for this matter? Of course… I understand that this will make you remember unhappy matters.

Ji Xiaoyu’s expression remained as numb as ever. Only her lips pursed slightly.

Ji Xiaoyu: … Come with me.

Ji Xiaoyu’s Residence

We followed Ji Xiaoyu into the place she was now renting.

That was a room of a mere ten square meters. The room was filled with a musty smell, as if no air had circulated here in a long time.

Miscellaneous items were piled in the corner of the room. Only the two boxes of corrugated cardboard near the door were uniquely neat and tidy.

Ji Xiaoyu: I’m guessing that you wanted to ask why I ended up in that trap loan?

Xia Yan: We do have some questions about that.

Ji Xiaoyu: Because I wanted to buy something, but was short by two thousand dollars.

Ji Xiaoyu did not wait for us to continue asking and began to speak.

Her tone as she spoke was completely emotionless and smooth, as familiar and indifferent as if she had repeated it many times.

Ji Xiaoyu: I feared being criticized by my classmates if I bought something so expensive suddenly, so I did not borrow from them.

Ji Xiaoyu: Back then, I thought that I would be able to repay it the month after, when I received my wages.

Ji Xiaoyu: I never thought that I would end up trapped.

Ji Xiaoyu: Because I could not pay back the money, they said that if I agreed to take a nude photograph, they would extend the time I had. Otherwise, they would tell my sister and school immediately.

Ji Xiaoyu: Foolishly, I took the photos.

Ji Xiaoyu: So after, I was even more scared of telling my sister, and I didn’t dare call the police. And for my reputation, my sister could only bear the humiliation and not call the police.

She narrated until the end, a heavy self-mocking gradually settling itself into her voice.

MC: (Miss Ji…)

Ji Xiaoyu: What else do you want to ask?

START QUESTIONING

⊳ Qian Yi

Xia Yan: Miss Ji, you once accused Qian Yi and Bedo Loan Company of being related. But the police concluded that evidence was insufficient after investigation.

Xia Yan: What did Qian Yi do during the case?

When this name was brought up, Ji Xiaoyu’s frozen face suddenly distorted as she clenched her fist.

Ji Xiaoyu: He never came to collect debts with that loan company before.

Ji Xiaoyu: He merely kept providing me and my sister’s whereabouts to those people.

MC: Providing your whereabouts?

Ji Xiaoyu: After Bedo Loan Company took away me and my sister’s house, we thought everything was over.

Ji Xiaoyu: But they refused to release us, saying that I still owed them money, pushing me to work at a karaoke bar to return the money.

Ji Xiaoyu: Otherwise, they would reveal that photo to all the people around me and my sister.

MC: …

Ji Xiaoyu: Sister moved houses with me several times to hide, but he kept finding us very quickly.

Xia Yan: After finding you, what did he do?

Ji Xiaoyu let out a strange laugh.

Ji Xiaoyu: Nothing at all.

MC: Nothing at all?

Ji Xiaoyu: He merely appeared near our rental location and smiled at us smugly.

Ji Xiaoyu: After, the scoundrels from the loan company would come to our door.

Ji Xiaoyu: Once, big sister couldn’t bear it anymore and begged him to let us go, but…

[Flashback]

Qian Yi: You say that I’m following you and revealing your locations to Bedo Loan Company. Then… “where’s the evidence”?

Qian Yi: Under the clear heavens, all is balanced. You cannot slander others based on nothing.

Qian Yi: I simply just… somehow always manage to run into you. Maybe this is some sort of destiny?

Qian Yi: Then, I just happened to bring you two up with those that I know.

Ji Xiaoqing: Then… what will it take for you to stop bringing us up?

Ji Xiaoqing: You all have already taken all our money—

Qian Yi: Miss Ji, people are also a sort of financial property.

Qian Yi: According to what I know, Miss Ji, you just hopped to a big company with a pretty decent annual salary?

[Flashback end]

Ji Xiaoyu: Sister originally wanted to move out of the city, but my student enrollment is within Stellis.

Ji Xiaoyu: Which is why we’ve always stayed here.

Ji Xiaoyu: Bedo Loan Company and Qian Yi were basically two colluding villains.

Ji Xiaoyu: But in the end, the police said that there was no evidence and they could only let him go.

Ji Xiaoyu let out a mocking laugh.

Ji Xiaoyu: I’ve heard people call this “procedural justice”. What is justice, then…

Xia Yan: …

MC: …

⊳ Relationship to Qian Yi’s death

Xia Yan: Miss Ji, according to my investigations, you bought a restricted blade the day before Qian Yi’s death.

Xia Yan: That day, you were given a violation ticket from police for carrying prohibited items, and the blade was confiscated.

Xia Yan: After Qian Yi’s death by cardiac arrest, the police also investigated you.

Xia Yan: Back then, a police officer testified for you, saying that he had been keeping an eye on you secretly, and that you did not have the time to commit the crime.

Xia Yan: But if I’ve guessed right, you were following Qian Yi back then, correct?

Ji Xiaoyu: Is how that human scum died that important to you?

MC: It’s like this, Miss Ji. Qian Yi just might be linked to another case that we’re investigating.

MC: So we wanted to ask you whether you noticed if Qian Yi was acting unusually at any point.

Ji Xiaoyu: No need to explain. He’s dead anyways, and I don’t care why you’re investigating him.

Ji Xiaoyu: But you came for nothing.

Ji Xiaoyu: I did follow him for a few days, but didn’t notice anything unusual about him.

Ji Xiaoyu: Even if someone did kill him, they would have just been “enforcing justice for the heavens”.

⊳ Ji Xiaoqing

MC: Miss Ji, we… have a few questions about your sister Ji Xiaoqing…

Ji Xiaoyu: No need to be so hesitant. Go ahead and ask what you want.

Xia Yan: Miss Ji, according to what we know, your sister found out about everything only when Bedo Loan Company seized your real estate.

Xia Yan: After, she was always low-spirited, and then ended up getting into an accident due to drunkenness.

Xia Yan: I’d like to ask you about the details when your sister found out about the trap loans.

Xia Yan: Did she make any unusual actions?

Ji Xiaoyu: Unusual? Under those circumstances, what sort of actions wouldn’t be unusual?

MC: …Could you tell us about where she was different from before then?

Ji Xiaoyu: My sister had always been a very hardworking, motivated person, both in work and life.

Ji Xiaoyu: The year my parents passed just happened to be the one where she was testing for university.

Ji Xiaoyu: Because of limited money and to take care of me, sister gave up on the famous university she’d set her heart on and went to a typical university.

Ji Xiaoyu: Without the halo of a famous school, she worked harder than anyone when it came to studying and work.

Ji Xiaoyu: A few months before Bedo Loan Company found my sister, she had just job-hopped to a very famous company.

Ji Xiaoyu: When Bedo Loan Company had just come knocking, sister still pretended to be lively as she went to work…

Ji Xiaoyu stopped for a moment.

Ji Xiaoyu: But when the police were investigating my sister’s cause of death, they found the people from her company. Only then did I find out…

Ji Xiaoyu: Those scoundrels knew that sister was working at a big company, so they often went to harass her, to make her hand her earnings to them…

Ji Xiaoyu: Sister refused, so those people handed out flyers insulting us at the company…

Ji Xiaoyu: Sister’s mistakes increased in frequency at the company. After, she resigned.

Xia Yan: But you just said that she would pretend to be lively at work? So she went out to…?

Ji Xiaoyu: I don’t know why sister pretended to go to work in the days after.

Ji Xiaoyu: I’m guessing that she just didn’t want to see me at home and think of sorrowful things…

MC: Have you ever secretly followed your sister?

Ji Xiaoyu: … What right do I have to follow my sister?

Ji Xiaoyu: It makes perfect sense for her to want to avoid me, to have time and space to herself.

Ji Xiaoyu: I harmed her so much. Should I not even give her this bit of space?

MC: Miss Ji…

Ji Xiaoyu: But you’re also right. I should have followed my sister.

Ji Xiaoyu: If I watched over her more and worried over her, then at least, I could’ve brought her home after she got drunk, and she wouldn’t have gotten into an accident.

Ji Xiaoyu: But back then, I was only worried about my own sadness and shame. I never thought once for her.

⊳ Other people she’s interacted with

Xia Yan: Miss Ji, may I ask, has anyone found you after you told the police about the trap loan?

Ji Xiaoyu: After sister passed, I dropped out of school.

Ji Xiaoyu: After teachers at school found out, they came to see me a few times.

Ji Xiaoyu: The rest were a few reporters who came to interview me and take pictures for news.

Ji Xiaoyu: After attention on this matter subsided, no one else came.

⊳ Civil compensation

MC: Miss Ji, Bedo Loan Company will begin trial for a case soon.

MC: I read the case details – the real estate that your parents left behind were defrauded away by the company using a fake lawsuit.

MC: After the court comes out with a criminal case verdict on Bedo Loan company, I can help you file for civil litigation.

MC: This way, what your parents left, as well as your assets that were defrauded from you, can be taken back.

Ji Xiaoyu: No need. I don’t need compensation.

Ji Xiaoyu: It’s already pointless…

END QUESTIONING

Ji Xiaoyu: Are there no other questions?

Ji Xiaoyu finished answering all of Xia Yan’s and my questions.

I originally thought that asking these would poke at her emotional wounds, but the whole time, her voice was expressionless, unusually indifferent.

Xia Yan and I locked eyes for a moment, seeing the same confusion and worry in each other’s eyes.

Xia Yan observed the items in the room again, looking at those two cardboard boxes near the door.

Xia Yan: The things in these boxes are…?

Though we could guess what was in it, Xia Yan still acted with caution, avoiding saying anything along the lines of “things left by the dead”.

Ji Xiaoyu: They’re my sister’s things.

Xia Yan: Can we take a look?

Ji Xiaoyu nodded slightly, then opened the cardboard box.

We first saw a journal with Ji Xiaoqing’s name on the cover.

Xia Yan flipped through the diary, giving it a few flip-throughs. The handwriting was beautiful and organized, and the contents focused on work and the comfortable times spent with her little sister.

Xia Yan: Your sister had a habit of writing in a diary, yet she didn’t write anything after finding out about the trap loan?

Ji Xiaoyu: She did. Several times, I saw her writing things in a black leather notebook.

Ji Xiaoyu: I don’t know what she wrote in there. Every time she saw me come over, she would immediately hide the notebook away.

Ji Xiaoyu: She probably wrote a lot about hating me…

Ji Xiaoyu: She clearly should’ve blown up at me, beat me, cursed me, and thrown me away so she could live in another city… but she still put on a strong face in front of me, every day.

Ji Xiaoyu: She also needed to vent, so I didn’t sneak any peeks.

MC: (Miss Ji…)

Xia Yan: Is that black leather notebook still around?

Ji Xiaoyu: I couldn’t find it. Maybe she tossed it away after she finished writing in it, or maybe it dropped somewhere on the day of the accident.

Just when Xia Yan and I were planning to look at some of Ji Xiaoqing’s other items, Ji Xiaoyu brought up a suggestion.

Ji Xiaoyu: You can take these boxes away and take your time going through them.

MC: Can we? These things…

Ji Xiaoyu: I’ll be preparing to bury my sister tomorrow, so I’m very busy. I need to rest right now, and I can’t wait for you.

Xia Yan: I understand – we’ll take these away for now, then. Don’t worry, we’ll examine them carefully and won’t break them.

Ji Xiaoyu: …

Ji Xiaoyu: I’d like to let you know that after my sister’s accident, the police also examined them. But they didn’t notice anything.

After hearing Ji Xiaoyu’s words, Xia Yan and I picked up the boxes with Ji Xiaoqing’s items and prepared to leave.

Ji Xiaoyu: Wait.

MC: Miss Ji, is there anything else you need?

Ji Xiaoyu: Why… why are you treating me like this!

Right when we were about to leave, Ji Xiaoyu suddenly became agitated.

MC: I’m so sorry, Miss Ji. If we have offended you in any way—

Ji Xiaoyu: Why aren’t you condemning me!

Ji Xiaoyu: It’s because I got too greedy and wanted to buy something expensive that I borrowed the money! It’s all because I wasn’t cautious enough that I ended up in the trap loan!

Ji Xiaoyu: It’s because I was a coward who was too scared to tell my sister or call the police that I kept sinking deeper!

Ji Xiaoyu: It’s all because of me… that my parents’ house ended up being defrauded away and that my sister died…

Ji Xiaoyu: You asked me so much, but why didn’t you scold me…

Ji Xiaoyu: Why… did you speak to me so sympathetically… when I committed so many unforgivable mistakes…

MC: …

Xia Yan: …

For a moment, I wasn’t quite sure of how to respond.

Xia Yan: Miss Ji, though this issue started because of you, you were not the one to cause all the misfortune.

Ji Xiaoyu: Have you not heard of the phrase, “flies don’t bite eggs without cracks”? Those who are pitiful must have a hateful side…

Xia Yan: But those who did evil are ultimately those “flies”.

Xia Yan: Whether pitiful or hateful, I have never thought that the focal point of a case should be whether the victim is perfect.

Xia Yan: You’ve already condemned yourself enough.

Ji Xiaoyu: …

Xia Yan: Even if you’ve already bought your sister’s resting place, don’t rush to do anything foolish.

Xia Yan: At least wait for our investigation to end.

Ji Xiaoyu: W-what do you mean?

Xia Yan: I feel like we might be able to find your sister’s black leather notebook.

Xia Yan: No matter how much you just pretended to not care, you must actually want to know what your sister was thinking and doing during that period of time.

Ji Xiaoyu was silent as tears rolled nonstop down her face.

Ji Xiaoyu: If you really find any clue that my sister left behind…

Ji Xiaoyu: No matter what it is… no matter how angrily she cursed… please tell it all to me.

Xia Yan: We will.

#Tears of Themis #tears of themis translations #xia yan #luke pearce #未定事件簿 #pls make sure that if you really need a loan #you get it from trustworthy ppl or reputable institutions;;#highly recommend listening to the voice acting #poor ji xiaoyu

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writerwrites · 3 years

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Yuánfèn | 04

Ch. 4: La Douleur Exquise: “The pain of still caring for someone that you know you can never have.”

Summary: When you’ve lost everything and try to run away from your problems, you keep finding a way back to the one person who completely understands. Can you make another person happy with a broken heart?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Chapter Word Count: 3.7k Chapter Warnings: Slow burn, grief, light cursing, light angst

Series Masterlist | Series Playlist | Complete Masterlist

I’m not going to cross a line. Steve said it to himself every morning in Spain, every time he looked in the mirror in the bathroom or caught himself staring at all the pictures he’d stayed to help you scan. Even as he carried a handful of boxes you were willing to pack back to the Quinjet he kept on saying it over and over in his head. Then, back to you and the words would fade to the back of his mind. At the slightest glance across a room, the hint of a smile on your lips when a memory brought happiness, and the way you clung to him so tightly when a memory brought pain. Just another day, she still needs you. She shouldn’t have to do this alone. A week later and a day became days and then he decided he would leave when the team called him for extraction.

With a book in hand, Steve climbed into the bed while you took a shower, donning his last clean undershirt and the same sweatpants he wore the night before. He was about to make a joke about the bed smelling like them and soon dirty laundry when you spoke first, saying just his name. His eyes were on the book, a Spanish translation of Homer’s Odyssey, flipping through the pages to find his spot when his clear blue eyes looked up and met yours, soft with a hint of something you couldn’t read. Wrapping your arms around yourself you stood at the edge of the bed, digging your nails into your arms. “I think I want to go home tomorrow. Thinking about what you said, about it being a part of what I have left of my family… You’re right, that I could keep this place and it wouldn’t be a financial burden if I put it on AirBnB or something similar.” Steve reached out in silence to comfort you as you spoke, doing his best to respectfully keep his eyes on yours and not the shirt and leggings that clung to your damp skin. “I emailed the lawyer about what I would need to do to make that happen and he said he’d take care of it.”

Your hand slipped into his, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze as Steve ghosted his thumb across your knuckles. “Even if it’s just to buy a little more time for a big decision, I think that’s a good choice.” He watched you, those gears turning like your mind and emotions needed to catch up to your surroundings, always in two places at once. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Slowly, you let go of his hand and climbed onto the bed, but you didn’t immediately lay down. “My hair’s still a little wet. You’ll freeze.”

“I’m a lot tougher than I look.” Steve laughed, thinking about all the times your head had tilted just a little to the side as you looked up to him and said that he was full of surprises, wondering if you were about to say it again. You seemed to be mulling it over and he found himself eager to put the book down and pull you into that usual position where you somehow managed to fit perfectly into the curve of his arm and his side. “C’mon, let’s get some sleep. I promise I won’t melt.”

The way you bit your lip as you cautiously closed the space between the two of you and curled into his chest as you had every night made Steve’s heart race. Your voice was a soft whisper of acknowledgment before going quiet again, “The Wizard of Oz.” Somehow, knowing it was the last time perhaps, you hesitated to let yourself immediately give in to the exhaustion in your bones. He noticed it, the little scrunch of your nose and the way you fought back a yawn as you hummed out his name to get his attention from behind the book one more time, “Steve.”

He smiled as he looked down at you but his eyebrows furrowed in surprise, just a little, when you hesitated to speak again, so he tried to coax it out of you, “Comfy?”

With a nod the yawn finally escaped you with the question you’d been holding back, “Could you read it aloud until I fall asleep?”

It wasn’t what he’d expected you to say and he hesitated, “You sure? I don’t want to butcher the language and you take offense.”

“I’m tougher than I look.” It was said in such a teasing tone, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, cheeks pink with embarrassment. The pair of you held each other in silence for a moment, a mixture of identical thoughts and emotions. If this was the last night together, was this an unceremonious way to end it? Was this banter, flirting, or a bit of both?

His fingers started drawing their way up and down your back as he broke the silence and began to read aloud, slowly processing the foreign language and what was happening in the story. A part of him thought about the journey home tomorrow and what both of you would be like when you were back in the familiar setting of New York. He thought about you alone with your plants and fish in your small apartment, a few boxes commemorating what had been his first real pocket of happiness since he came out of the ice. “How am I going to fall asleep without you when we’re back in the city?”

The question had passed his lips before he could stop himself, his own tired voice deep and raspy with anxiety he didn’t realize he was harboring until that moment. Steve’s muscles went tight, book unmoving from his face as he frantically tried to find the sentence he’d just read aloud. Then, just as his panic was building, you did something you’d never done before; your hand released the bundle of his shirt and brushed over the muscles of his stomach and sides. Taking a cautious breath he let himself pay attention to the noises of the room and the house. Your pulse and breathing were steady, you’d once again fallen fast asleep against him, and for now, the question was left unanswered.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that Tony was the last person to show up for the scheduled check in once you were settled back in at work. He made sure to push it back and reschedule until it was about ten minutes before you were about to leave. Your head was in a fog, three nights back and you hadn’t been able to sleep. The exhaustion to caffeine ratio was starting to get precarious and you felt almost certain that you would finally fall asleep when you got home this time, regardless of the racing thoughts that seemed to start up just as your head hit the pillow.

Unceremoniously entering the office without a single knock, the billionaire sat on the arm of the loveseat that drank in the light from the window. It was a cozy piece of furniture you’d insisted on and it looked wholly out of place in the Tower with your postcard worthy view of the city. You looked up from your desk, tablet already ready. “Everything sorted out in Spain, Doc?” He asked with a knowing quirk of an eyebrow, but Tony didn’t give you a chance to answer. His hands were clasped in his lap like he was about to play shrink himself and he let out a huff to begin. “I know you left worried about me but don’t be. I’m perfectly fine, better than fine actually.” Your mouth bobbed open to protest, but he waved you off and kept talking. “I’m going to prove it to you too. We’re having a little celebration tonight, just to celebrate the return of our team's favorite medical professional and a successful mission.” You didn’t need to ask if you’d have a say or if small really meant small, not that you needed to. He was up and headed out the door before you could even remark that parties to drink one’s way through a mental health crisis wasn’t exactly convincing. “See you at eight!”

You were half-tempted to shout for him to come back or you’d call Pepper, but his voice echoed from the hallway at the next person he was telling about the party and you shook your head. There truly was no point in bickering with Tony. He was the unrelenting sort that followed through on whatever he set his mind to regardless of the opinions of others, except for Pepper. JARVIS was already talking to you about adding the event to your schedule and chattering about traffic calculations and nearby shops to buy appropriate attire and makeup for the event. In a huff you waved off the voice of the A.I. with a quick, “Thanks, JARVIS.”

It was five minutes to eight when you heard the elevator chime on your abandoned level of the Tower. As you looked at your reflection in the full length mirror in your office, leaning this way and that in the newly purchased cocktail dress that felt fitting for a cool May evening in New York City, you really took a chance to admire the simple but elegant dress in your favorite color. Yet, with every approaching footstep, you worried it was not glamorous or form fitting enough for a Stark Industries event, and you found yourself tempted to put on the dirty scrubs and run home. With those intrusive thoughts, you realized that no Avengers lie in any of the rooms needing care and immediately your chest tightened anticipating the worst as you clutched the closed tube of mascara in your right hand like it was a knife. Then you heard his voice, “Y’know, in the military they taught us that if you’re on time you’re late.” Steve tapped lightly on the door and waved his hand in. “May I come in?”

Chucking the makeup at your purse that sat open with your scrubs on the couch, you tried to act natural despite being all too aware of this being the first time the Avenger you were harboring a slight crush on, albeit one you weren’t ready to admit to yourself, would see you in a full face of makeup. Your rattled nerves and confused emotions left you stammering along to the cadence of your rapid pulse. “Sure, yeah, of course.”

He spun in gracefully, making you realize he’d had his back to the door just in case you weren’t decent. His mouth fell open and you realized yours had too. The blue button up made it impossible to glance at him and not look right into his bright blue eyes. Immediately, you felt like you were back in Mallorca, staring at him across a dinner table, blue skies and blue water bringing you a pocket of peace in the sadness that had threatened to consume you. Before you could get lost in the not-so-distant memory, Steve broke the silence. “That dress didn’t make it to Mallorca.”

“It’s new. I didn’t think I really had anything appropriate, but I’ve also never been invited to one of these things before.” It was true, in three years Tony had never acknowledged you in the same way he praised Dr. Banner or Dr. Cho, not that you wanted that kind of recognition. “I’m hoping it’s under the radar enough where I won’t stick out.”

“You two ready to go in there?” A masculine, vaguely familiar voice called from the hall just before Steve could protest- or at least it seemed like he was going to.

Steve nodded toward the door and you followed, only to find Sam Wilson in the hall. “As happy as I am to see you again, Sam, I think this is a sign that Tony really downplayed the size of the get together tonight.”

“Y’think?” Sam winked. “Don’t worry, we can stick to the outer limits, make them come to us.”

His eyes looked tired, painfully similar to yours, and you wanted to say you missed him but his hand was on your lower back encouraging you to walk into the elevator before him. In an attempt to calm down your nerves, you stayed facing the back corner of the lift, distracting yourself by focusing on the texture of the dress’ material between two of your fingers. Though you swore you could feel the two men staring at you as the numbers climbed a few floors higher, you didn’t turn around. Steve’s hand reached for yours and you took your anchor without hesitation. The pair of them started talking and then the doors chimed, opening to a heavy chatter and music. To your surprise he didn’t let go when you stepped out, looking back at you just for a moment to catch you mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ and he didn’t pull away or pull you closer as you held his hand but walked a step behind him and Sam.

Through the crowd full of strangers, you moved nearly undetected behind the taller men. Anyone that looked in your direction only gave you a fleeting glance before looking back to the Avengers. It wasn’t until the first larger gaggle stopped to greet Steve and ask who Sam was that Steve gave your hand a gentle squeeze and you both let go, fingertips tugging at each other as you slipped away from the crowd. You didn’t look back, feeling eyes on you and wondering if they were Steve’s because you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge that anyone had noticed you or the innocent hand holding.

Natasha found you after a while, two flutes of champagne in hand, as your eyes moved through the ever-growing crowd of unfamiliar but picture-perfect faces. You took one with a grateful smile, “Oh, look at you, Natasha! You look like one of those classic movie starlets. Trying to impress someone tonight?”

With a little wink and a sip of her champagne, she sat next to you. “Don’t drink it all. Tony’s speech is coming and I suspect it will be brief but grandiose. Maria told me there was a bit of a pissing contest between Stark and Thor tonight. Tony and Bruce got into it while you were gone.” She gestured over to the bar where the Asgardian towered over your boss, the pair of them laughing between tight smiles. “They love each other, but they love teasing each other a little more, I think. I have to wonder where we’d all be if it wasn’t for Steve.”

You followed her gaze to the tall blonde, laughing with a smile so big that his eyes were practically closed as his right hand clutched his side. Even with the room so loud you knew exactly what that laugh sounded like and you smiled behind your drink. The man was a magnet and yet you felt Natasha’s gaze on you, knowing full well the spy was trying to read what was going on in your head. For the first time in the entire time of knowing Tony Stark, you were grateful for his little interruption. “Good evening, I wanted to welcome you to Stark Tower after another successful mission. We can and do call it a success thanks to the great mind of Dr. Cho and our residential medic, and the skills of the team under superior leadership.”

With the microphone in one hand, Tony used his free hand to gesture to the stunning doctor at his side who had printed the patch that saved Clint’s life. You felt your throat tighten with embarrassment as he neither used your name nor gestured in your direction, instead discussing the achievement of the technology that saved an Avenger. As an introvert, it was always a bit of a mixture of emotions to both go around unnoticed and to be called out. Natasha clapped and you understood her gratefulness, Dr. Cho had saved Clint, but there was no familiar anchor to get you out of your thoughts. Tony continued, but your skin tingled with nerves and your muscles ached with exhaustion, all while your mind raced telling you to leave. Practically turning off your ears, the speech ended without any further acknowledgement of your work, time at the company, and certainly no mention of your name.

Natasha was soon pulled away and bit by bit the growing crowd moved around until your thoughts weren’t the only thing suffocating you. Downing the last of your champagne, you got up and moved around the room trying to calm your nerves and a few drinks later decided it was best to leave. After all, most of your night had been spent alone, apologizing for taking up space at the bar or a couch and vacating the space to a group that knew each other well. Climbing the short staircase toward the elevator, one hand clinging to the railing as you kept your foggy head down, you realized you were behind Steve and Sam.

“It sounds like a hell of a fight. Sorry I missed it”

“If I had known it was going to be a firefight I absolutely would have called.” Steve was being genuine and you smiled. Too buzzed not to eavesdrop, you recalled the same tone used on you in Mallorca. Chalking up the drinks and singledom as the reason you were lamenting your trip away, you managed to bite your tongue.

“I’m not actually sorry, I’m just trying to sound tough.” Sam laughed softly as they stopped at the landing overlooking the party, elevator doors behind them and your chance to escape. “I’m very happy chasing cold leads on our missing person case. Avenging is your world, and your world is crazy.”

“Be it ever so humble.” You looked back at them as you thumbed the elevator’s button a few more times than necessary. Having never heard Steve talk about Stark Industries and the Avengers’ lifestyle in any sort of negative light, it caught you by surprise.

They went quiet for a moment and you kept your eyes forward on the elevator doors. “You find a place in Brooklyn yet?”

“I don’t think I can afford a place in Brooklyn.” Steve confessed and your eyebrows drew together in confusion. Any place worth living in New York was expensive, sure, but you couldn’t picture him making that bad of a salary as Stark’s right hand when you were making more than you ever would in a hospital or private practice.

Hearing the rustle of keys behind you, you welcomed the chime of the elevator doors hoping to escape unscathed without your liquor-laced tongue embarrassing you. You saw Sam smile at Steve. “Well, home is home, y’know.” Steve nodded in agreement, but his gaze was still toward the crowd below. “Hold the elevator, Doc.”

You hadn’t even noticed that Sam saw you, but if he did then you had no doubt Steve had too. Stepping into the elevator you held the ‘doors open’ button for Sam as you fought to not stare at Steve. “I thought the phrase was home is where the heart is?”

When Steve turned around your eyes immediately met his and slowly your faces mirrored in soft smiles. Internally, you were scolding your lack of self control. “I’m sorry I never escaped the crowd to get a chance to-”

“It’s okay.” You interrupted him quickly as Sam stood between you both cross armed and watching the interaction. “I haven’t slept since we got back and I’m just tired and boring… extra boring really because I’ve had champagne.” Waving off Steve’s apology with rambling as you let go of the button, forcing Sam to get in when the doors moved.

Sam gave Steve a nod goodnight and Steve leaned following the closing doors, “Why haven’t you been… umm, I’ll text.”

With panicked nodding you shouted a quick, “Night,” and the second the doors closed you hid your face in your palm and exhaled, “Shit. Shit, shit, shitty shit. Shit!”

It wasn’t until the elevator still wasn’t moving and then filled with Sam’s laughter that you remembered you weren’t alone. “Did you just realize you were into him?”

Your eyes went wide as you reached around him and hit your office’s floor on the panel, wondering both if he was right and if it was that obvious. The thought itself was quickly rejected, “I think anyone with half a brain cell is into him. Like you said, avenging is his world and his world is crazy.” Saying it stung was an understatement, like you were taking off the rose tinted glasses on your time in Mallorca. A little choked up, you mumbled, “What’s the point in wanting someone you can’t have?”

“Yet here you are, wanting him, right?” Sam leaned over and hit the button for the parking deck. “Does this thing usually run this slow?”

“JARVIS? What’s the hold up?” Slumping against the wall of the elevator you looked over Sam, the alcohol buzzing through your system giving you enough liquid courage to ask, “So, are you into him too?”

With a laugh he shook his head no, “We were both playing wingman for each other tonight. Steve meant what he said. He was upset about never escaping the fan club to get back to you, and that’s on me.”

You were about to scoff, but there was a rumble in the elevator, the sound of metal and something clunking around in the empty chamber beneath the elevator below you. Your eyes went wide and the lights flickered before the elevator went dark and began to free fall.

A/N: Thank you for catching another chapter of my little slow burn series! I’m missing Mallorca already. I hope you don’t mind my taking an extra Sunday to focus on getting this chapter right for you all. Do you think Reader and/or Steve will end up back in Mallorca again? Now that they’re both coming to some terms with there being a spark between them, will Ultron crashing the party will it bring them closer together or drown them in work?

Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics

I will be reblogging with tags, send an ask if you’d like to be added either to the series or to one of my other tag lists.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers and reader #fic: steve rogers #writer: writerwrites

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blissfulalchemist · 3 years

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“Your task is not to seek love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”

- Rumi

Thank you to the wonderful and oh so talented @minilev for bringing to life the first face to face meeting of my girl Catlina and @risenlucifer’s Rafael. It came out perfect and I could not be happier! Thank you Kate for creating your boy and helping in creating this piece! 💜 Below the cut is the scene itself from their shared universe.

There was only one location in Hope County that became true neutral ground, and managed to stay that way even after the reaping began. The signs that stood outside the doors were the only indication of where the initial funding came from but nothing else that leant itself to associating itself with Eden’s Gate, just how Catlina wanted it from the start. Her outreach center was created to help all residents of Hope County have their needs met, not recruitment as some assumed. In recent weeks becoming a safe haven for those that didn’t ask to be caught in the crossfire of the holy war. Though Catlina was finding it harder to offer up something as someone kept stealing the wrong trucks. Didn’t matter how many times she tried to make them as distinct as possible from the other ones the deputy was allowed to take from Eden’s Gate he still managed to find a way to hit her trucks now and again.

Cat was lucky that the truck that brought about her special order had survived, all the items planned to be a gift for the fabled friend of Deputy Wes. It's not that she wanted to be a creep, but sometimes it was hard to not overhear the conversations he and John would have as she waited for him to leave or at least make her presence known. It was nice to just hear someone else’s voice in the house that didn’t seem to spout the same notions as everyone else, so she’d prolong the amount of time they had together. It was during one of the times she’d opted to sneak back into the house that she heard the passing comment and joke about his friend’s complaints of not being able to make any sort of decent meal with the food that was offered in the Whitetails.

No surprise to her as that was the place hardest to get any kind of supplies, seeing as Jacob took most of it. Her heart went out to Wes’ friend and she had the means, so she compiled what she could based on the conversation Wes and her husband had, leaving it on the doorstep of the deputy a note attached specifying its intended recipient. That was over a week ago and she hadn’t heard anything about it or related to it. She hadn’t put a name with the note, maybe that was the problem, just the location of the outreach center in case they wanted more and Cat held hope that she’d get to meet them, maybe make the first real connection with someone on the other side of this war.

Each swinging of the door had her looking up, heart racing only to be met with disappointment when it was someone she recognized. “You know you don’t even know what he looks like right,” Lance teased, smirking as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“Well do you know what he looks like?” She asked, waving to one of the locals that came by weekly, “Because maybe then you can give me a hint or a name?”

“Firstly, Wes could have had a change of friends since I last remembered,” he pushed himself off looking out the window at the cars driving by, “Secondly, if it is still the same guy he was a bit scrawny still last I saw of him.”

She rolled her eyes, “Did you just become a hermit or something at some point? Cause you said the same about the deputy,” Cat moved back behind the counter leaning her elbows against it, “and we both know how he turned out.”

Lance gave a small laugh looking back at Cat, “You starting to feel jealous?”

Cat narrowed her eyes, “No,” she let out a sigh, ”I just want friends. Or some way to not feel so lonely.” She looked at Lance’s hazel eyes, “Not that you’re not my friend it’s just-.”

“I know. Want people your own age,” Lance’s eyes moved to the person walking through the door, locking onto the holstered handgun, “I was a young man once too.”

Catlina’s eyes followed the patron around the store too until their items were brought up to the counter. She helped him get settled, taking the little money he had to offer before watching him make his way out of the building, leaving her and Lance alone.

“How late are you wanting to stay today?” Lance asked, stretching out his arms, “I don’t think we have to worry about interrupting anything back at the ranch.” He took his seat in the front corner of the store, hands picking up the latest in his engine projects John had given him, “Besides you have to go to the service in the morning, can’t be up too late.”

She gave a small eye roll, “I just want to make sure I don’t miss him. Maybe he can only come later in the day.” Or maybe he never planned on showing.

“So a bit after sundown again?”

She nodded, making herself busy with the smaller inventory behind the counter, “I might have to give up after this week though.” She tapped the pen on the table, “I shouldn’t be holding out too much hope. Not like many people trust me nowadays.” She looked up to the sound of a car pulling up to the building, shoulders sagging letting out a breath, It probably wasn’t him. I really need to stop hoping at this point, “Well outside Eden’s Gate at least.”

She rested her forehead against the counter, the sound of the bell announcing the person that just pulled up, their footsteps filling the space of the small shop. Cat didn’t look up as she traced his movement in the building from the sound of his shoes against the old wood alone. There were a few pauses as he seemed to look around, Cat moving to lay her head against her arm, writing out the list of what may be needed soon.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the shopper called out in a voice clear and deep, “there are no prices on anything.”

Cat lifted her head, giving a smile glancing his way, “Its because this is a pay what you can center. It can range from zero to full price.” She turned to face him head on, eyes locking with his, her heart stopping a moment before starting to race. He was new and she couldn’t look away from his brown eyes, warm, inviting, and a bit playful. His dark curls falling perfectly framing his face, accented by a neatly kept beard. His clothing, while simple, appeared to be of higher quality than other residents of the county. The dark blue cardigan over his burgundy shirt, and silver necklaces catching in the light, bright, though not enough to outshine his smile. His smile, how assuring it made her feel. All of him….perfect.

Well that’s just unfair, she thought as her mouth went dry, trying to gain some semblance of composure. Cat cleared her throat, smoothing out her dress hiding the reddening of her cheeks as he walked closer. “Just like that? I could take whatever I wanted,” he asked, Cat nodding in response, “However much I wanted?”

She started to nod again, stopping, “Erm, well within reason. Wouldn’t be really fair if you took all of a supply that was needed by everyone, you know?”

He gave a small nod, “So you run this place based on trust and merit,” he leaned on the counter, Cat taking a step back, “Seems a little bold in a place like this.” She gave a shrug, “Looks like you’re running a bit low though,” he gestured to the store around him.

“I know,” she let out a sigh, “My trucks have been getting snatched up.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“I mean, yes it's bad for me and the center but I can’t blame him for taking them,” she stammered out, “He’s been giving them to those that need the supplies, so in the end it’s serving their purposes. I just wish he’d have thought to ask or target the other trucks.”

“The deputy?” Cat nodded in response, “He’s been taking your trucks?”

“Yeah,” she waved, “but it doesn’t matter if the supplies are serving those that need them.”

“But if he asked, you’d just give them to him,” Cat found herself locked in his gaze once more, They feel so much like his eyes. How’s possible?, “Why do that?”

Cat looked down stuffing the memories back into their box, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, “It’s the right thing to do. There’s a lot of people willing to fight and defend their homes, but what about the people that didn’t ask to be a part of any of this?” She met his eyes, “I know it's hard to believe but there are people on both sides that just wanted to live in peace. Some just want to worship a faith without the violence and not to mention the locals that never sold their homes but couldn’t afford the means to leave. A sort of stubborn pride in its own right.” Cat looked around the center, smiling, “This place is for them. It's for anyone really, I fight hard to keep this place a sanctuary for anyone that needs it, no matter where they come from.” She met his eyes rolling her shoulders back, nothing that his posture had never changed, “Everyone is worth saving and helping when in need.”

His face unreadable he studied her, standing straighter, “Guess what they say about you and this place is true,” Cat tilted her head, brow furrowing, “The signs though,” he jerked a thumb to the front of the building, “well that kind of makes it hard to believe.”

Her shoulders sagged, “I know,” rolling her eyes letting out a breath, “It was either those or some audio played on the speakers. I’m contractually obligated to have one or the other.” He laughed, startling her before she felt herself loosen up, laughing along with him, “You think I’m kidding?”

“Yeah I do a bit,” she smirked, pulling out the copy of her outreach center contract with John, dropping it in front of him. His laughter stopping, the smile remaining as he looked it over, “Never mind, guess I was wrong,” he flipped through the pages, “Even got it notarized I see.”

“Mhm,” he passed the papers back to her, “I had to make it as official as possible. If I’ve learned anything it's that the best way to beat a lawyer is using their own tricks against them.”

“Clever,” he gave a light bang of his hand against the wood of the counter, “So tell me, what would one owe for these items,” he pulled out a slip of paper, “They got left with a friend of mine and I want to make sure I’m not in debt.”

Cat’s eyes went wide as she looked over the list, each item one that she left on Deputy Wes’ doorstep. It’s him. It’s really him. He came by and I….feel unprepared. Her hands started to shake, trying to refocus her brain on what was happening. “Oh right uhm, noth-nothing,” her words tumbled out, “Nothing. First one is uhm, first one’s free.”

“What if I want to give a little something for it,” he had his wallet out, “It is a pay what you can center as you said.”

“I- I uh, I did. I said that,” she cleared her throat, “Besides the point. I think I heard mention that it was a gift and you don’t pay for gifts, that’s just rude.”

“Then a donation?” He placed a few bills in her hands, Cat pushing them back over into his, electricity coursing through her with each touch, shaking her head. He was so easy to talk to, why does this feel so normal and so scary? Am I dreaming it? Probably. “We’re not getting anywhere with this are we,” he laughed, Did he just have to be so charming? He has to be this way with everyone.

“No. It’s because I insist,” she took a deep breath, “It was a gift. You don’t owe me anything.” Cat snapped her jaw closed, wincing at revealing herself to be the gift giver.

He stopped, “So it was you? You’re the one that gave me the basket.” Cat’s cheeks burned, nodding slowly, “You didn’t leave a name on the note. Why is that?”

“I-,” Cat stopped, she didn’t really have much of an answer, “Names are complicated and besides I didn’t need to be thanked for doing something nice.”

“Well I’m going to thank you,” he held his hand out to her, Cat taking it gingerly, “You made my meals feel decent for once.”

“Oh did you use everything already,” her hand shaking his still, “I can get some more on the list for you, for next time you come around.”

He shook his head, “No I’m okay for now. I will, however, keep you in mind when I want to indulge.” He let go of her hand humming in thought, “You don’t get a lot of people from the Whitetails do you?”

She shook her head, “No, that seems to be the hardest place to make a dent in anything getting up there. And if I’m being honest I think people are scared to leave their homes.”

“I tend to do a bit of work up there, maybe I can help and be a sort of liaison. If you’d like,” her heart fluttered at the idea of seeing him more and talking to him and working with him. Just the idea of him.

“I assume you and the militia up there will help in distribution,” he gave a curt nod, Cat looking at Lance who just gave a shrug in return, “Only if you promise that it just be you guys giving it out, that it’s done fairly, and maybe put the word out to some of the locals that this really is a place they won’t be harmed.” She took a breath, her rambling stopping before she could make it worse.

“Sounds like we’re making a tentative partnership,” he smirked, some curls falling out of place, “Should I get the local public notary?”

Cat laughed, shaking her head as she looked down to the old wood, “No. I think we can settle this on our own….for now at least.” She stood straighter, holding her hand out to him, “So what do you say mister….?”

“Rafael,” he clasped his hand around hers, “or Raf as some people call me.”

“Raf,” she repeated, “Unique name nowadays.”

He nodded, giving her a pointed look, “And what shall I call you, Mrs. Seed?”

Catlina’s face turned in disgust, “Anything but that really.”

“Well I can certainly call you Mary if you like,” he smirked, “though something tells me you don’t like that name either.”

“It’s not the worst name out there,” she mumbled picking at the wood, “It’s just-.” How does he feel so easy to talk to?, she thought looking over at Lance. He gave a slight shake of his head, “You know why don’t I let you just decide what to call me.” Cat gave Lance a small shrug, “I don’t think you’ll give me something I’ll hate to be called,” Raf’s dark eyes regarded her, “Just don’t use my height as a nickname please if you decide to go a nickname route. That’s my only rule.”

Raf chuckled, “Might need a little time to come up with that. For now, why don’t I just call you,” she braced herself at his pause regretting his offer to just call her Mary, “conejito.”

Cat blinked back in surprise, “Conejito,” she repeated the word sounding familiar. The recollections she could muster never put the word in a bad light, many in her family always calling others by that name with affection, even though she never really bothered to ever ask what it meant. And she wasn’t going to start now. It sounded sweet and the flutter in her chest brought about the feeling of normal she’d been missing, or the flutter came from the way the evening sun hit his eyes just so, paired with the smile he gave. “It’s acceptable for a temporary name Rafael,” Catlina returned his smile, cheeks burning. Her heart thumped in her chest only managing to focus on his eyes, she looked away clearing her throat, “So, uhm, when will I see you again to discuss more details of our partnership?”

“Few days,” his eyes glanced outside the window, “I have to talk to some people up there, see what they need and want from this partnership.”

“Oh,” Cat’s heart fell, “I mean, well that makes sense. I should uhm, well I should prepare and look into what I can offer, so we can get to a middle ground,” she stammered, stopping herself as she twisted the tips of her fingers.

“That sounds like a good plan. How late are you normally open?”

“I’m pretty flexible,” she said, Lance giving a snort, “Well uhm, I mean whenever you need me I can be there however you need me,” Cat shut her eyes letting out a breath, Raf laughing softly, “Well you get what I mean.”

“I do, Conejito, I do,” Raf shook his head, running a hand through his hair, “I’ll try to come later in the day, but I’ll try to give you a bit of a warning.”

“Yeah, yeah. That works,” Cat bounced on her toes, “I’m sure you have to be uh going I assume. Do you need a ride? Cause we can give you one?”

He pointed to the car still parked outside the building, “I brought my own ride,” Cat gave a slow nod, “Thank you for the offer though.” Raf took a few steps back, raising his hand, waving, “I’ll see you in a few days, Conejito.”

Cat waved back, “See you.” She watched as he made his way out of the building and into the car, looking back inside of the building once it was out of sight.

Cat groaned, lying her head against the counter, “Not as scrawny anymore,” Lance said standing from his chair, “Guess you were right.”

Cat looked up, narrowing her eyes, “That your way of telling me I told you so?”

Lance smiled, “No,” he chuckled before his face grew serious, “You should be careful though.”

“What do you mean?” Cat asked, raising a brow.

“He’s not just the deputy’s friend,” Lance moved locking up the windows, “He’s pretty well known in the mountains, call him the Saint.” Cat stood straighter, crossing her arms as she looked at the ground, “He’s got a target on his back, pretty big one if I’m not mistaken. Might be a little dangerous to work too close to him.”

“I have the sway to keep this place and my work in the middle, not on either side.”

Lance hummed, “Hm, I just wouldn’t count on that staying for very long. Just in case.” He turned to her, holding his hand out for the keys as Cat tossed them his way, “Don’t want to see you get hurt, is all.”

“I won’t be. I got you here,” Cat moved to stand next to him, bumping his arm, “and he seems trustworthy enough.” Lance put an arm around her, “Who knows this might be the best thing for us. We could do more good around here, get this whole war ended sooner.”

“Get you out sooner,” Lance whispered, “I’ll look into him more see where he stands on things. Just to be on the safe side.” He rubbed her arm, patting it as he moved to lock the front door, “Let’s get back to the ranch shall we?”

Cat nodded, grabbing her sweater, “Yeah, let’s go. I have to distract myself anyway.”

“Not gonna be able to get his eyes out of your mind for awhile are ya?” Lance laughed, leading them to the car, Cat giving him a shove, “Hey you were the one that was kind of obvious in your drooling over him.”

Cat rolled her eyes, “You were real popular with Sage when she was in high school, weren’t you?” Lance laughed in response as the two pulled out onto the road to drive them back. He was right, and that didn’t make it any less appealing to Cat to want to get to know Raf and hopefully become close to him. No matter how their relationship played out, part of her just knew she wanted him in her life and that nothing was going to be the same now.

#x: top chefs #commissions and gifts #captain xwing #brains and disaster #I just absolutly love them so much!!!! like it's just so perfect!!!!#and yes we be knowin that counter has a little step for her to see over it #I just love it so much oh my god!!!#So happy to share it with you all after all this time!!!!

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bellatrixxue · 4 years

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Xue’s Supernatural Dare: Wendigo (S1 EP2)

Hello, everyone? How did everyone feel about the finale? Yes? Yes? Oh. Oh. Oh my. Oh, dear.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell that half-assed homophobic chicken-shit fuckbucket’s not gonna stop me, since I strapped myself onto this roller coaster already and I promised I’m not getting out until the ride’s over, so here we go, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Also, those who are in this roller coaster with me, ready? Tag list is: @fangirlxwritesx67 @amazingiam00 @kalliravenne @indecisive20something @2musiclover2 @impossibletosleepthrough @there-must-be-a-lock @wingedcatninja @arvit

Oh my gods this recap is so cheesy I actually can make a fondue out of it. 2000s, everybody!

A WHOLE MINUTE AND A HALF FOR THAT FONDUE

FUCKJUMPSCARETITLEFUCKYOU

So we’re starting the episode with the murder scene first, eh? Is that gonna be a trend?

Oh come on, Chads, you’re out in nature and you’re playing video games? Absorb the nature...before it absorbs you!

Waitwait. Holy shit is that...is that Cory Monteith? Oh, bless his soul...

If the wendigo eats his dick as he’s peeing I’m immediately giving Jensen Ackles $100. For no real reason, I just feel like giving him money for already carrying the show on his back.

I can’t tell if it did or not, so I’m not paying yet.

Aw, Sammy...

"I should have told you the truth.” *Vine voice* BUT YOU DIDN’T

FUCKYOUINTHEASSHOhnightmare. Nightmare. So did he visit her at her grave or not? I need answers.

A week? Goddamn. Poor thing. That man-eating tree’s fucking good at his job, man.

“There’s nothing there, it’s just...woods,” Sam, I don’t know if Jess’s death hit you hard or if you got into law school by eating some ancient dick and/or pussy instead of earning that high score fair and square, but the woods “in the middle of nowhere” (your words) are known to be one of the top places full of weird-ass creatures. Even kindergartners know that.

Ehehehehehehehehe he’s so smol next to his lil bro my lil shit

At least you’re coming up with decent covers this time. No Agent Mulder and Scully ruining things for you this time around.

“Bull” oop-

Oh Dean’s a smoooooooooth operator. Good going, buddy.

AND HE GOT A COPY OF THAT DOCUMENT TEAM DEAN TEAM DEAN

Oh that death really got to Sam. I hope he doesn’t turn out to be a trigger-happy psycho. Or eat the man-eating tree and become one himself.

Oh, Haley’s a cutie! Which one’s her brother? Cory? Discount Enrique Iglesias?

Do you have a card for EVERY profession, Dean? And how do I get them too?

That is a very pretty car. I bet they wasted half the budget on that thing.

Okay, sonny boy, little bro, Broseidon, calm down.

Ah, fuck, Haley and Broseidon is gonna go into the woods, that’s more heads to worry about.

How the fuck does Sam find information this fast? I’m impressed, I take five hours to get to one article for my research paper. Or maybe I’m just lazy. So he really earned his law school interview without having to eat dick and pussy, huh.

Every 23 years? What is this, Pennywise? Are we going to see the wendigo do his best Tim Curry do his best scary clown impression? Honk honk?

“Whatever that thing is, it can move.” And the sun rises on the East, Sammy. Why are you so smart and dumb at the same time? Is this his character trait? It might grow on me.

Ahhh, so Sam’s go-to move at interrogation is doing puppy dog eyes and sympathize with the person. He’d make a good lawyer, shame that man-eating tree.

Go Grandpa Exposition, go!

Go Grandpa Exposition, go, give us information and none at all!

OH GEEZ THAT SCAR. PENNYWISE WENDIGO IS VICIOUS.

Skinwalker, Back Dog...Ooh, those all sound cool! I hope we get to see them soon!

‘Corporeal’ doesn’t sound like a real word, but then again, English doesn’t sound like a real language. Sorry. Moving on.

Sam’s gonna eat the wendigo with that attitude, Jesus Christ.

AND HIS BROTHER, AT THIS RATE. If the real villain turns out to be inside Sam all along I’m gonna flip. Is that why women keep dying and burning on ceilings where he sleeps? Is he secretly Lucifer’s spawn or something?

“Oh sweetheart I don’t wear shorts”. They queer-coded him from the start and they tried to make you believe he was straight for fifteen seasons straight? And some people bought that?

Oh, crap, another crappy death treatment for Cory before he got into Glee...No, I wasn’t into Glee, I just watched a few episodes and I might hate Rachel Berry...And Lea Michele...ahem...

Dean is totally flirting with Roy shut upppppppp

OOP AND THERE ROY GOES OH THE SEXUAL TENSION IS HIGH IN THESE WOODS TODAY

“It’s probably the most honest I’ve been with a woman. Ever.” See. Bi. Bi bi bi.

So...why the coordinates, Daddy Negan? Is this a portal to Hell? A place where man-eating trees grow?

*carefully places death flag on Roy*

Ooooh the campsite is very...haunted house-y. You know what I’m saying?

That’s not Discount Enrique Iglesias, but Pennywise wendigo, yes? Those things can mimic human voices, right?

*Google searches*...There are so many versions of this tale I can’t even confirm or deny it. Dammit.

Maybe Pennywise wendigo just wants some snacks and a nice phone and GPS? Maybe he misses his family in uh, Canada or something?

Daddy Negan’s journal is a e s t h e t i q u e .

I’m so sorry, but the way Sammy smirks as he speaks with those dark, dark voids for eyes? My boy’s a demon. He’s a demon, I’m telling you.

At least Haley has some sense to her. *puts another death flag on Roy*

*PUTS YET ANOTHER DEATH FLAG ON ROY*

True, that. What the heck is Daddy Negan up to with all of this?

“Saving people, hunting things, the family business!” Okay, the way Dean said it gave me chills.

I can actually empathize with Sam here...As whiny and bitchy as he is, he has his reasons to be this way. I guess if I were in his shoes, I’d be less of a Dean and more of a Sam, too. We deal with our losses quite similarly.

Ah, the brotherly bonding moments like these little talks make the show worth it. It’s so heartwarming.

Pennywise wendigo! I didn’t miss you, why’re you here to burst my happy bubble?

I’m starting to see a slight parallel between Haley and Broseidon and Dean and Sammy. Hmm.

Nice meeting you, Roy. Zoop you go.

Haley and Broseidon are taking this rather well, I’m glad they do.

Okay, actual exposition time, thank you.

Whoa, Broseidon speaks! Donner Party! Please don’t remind me of that! Those poor people!

Hibernation and food storage. Delightful, just delightful.

TORCHING? *CALLS RAMMSTEIN*

Somehow, not being able to see the wendigo is scarier to me than what I will probably see itself. Limited budget horror can actually work well.

Oh, dear, Roy literally did a death drop. Badum tissssssssss.

FUCK IT TOOK DEAN THE ONLY CHARACTER I CARE ABOUImean I love you too, Sam! Come on, let’s find him before it’s too late!

A trail of M&Ms! Yes, Broseidon! And Hansel and Gretel refercalled it. Sammy, you and I share the same wavelength?

SHITSHITTHEYTRIPPEDANDFELLINTHEFUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

Thank the gods the Pennywise wendigo kept them right there. Chances.

DISCOUNT ENRIQUE IGLESIAS IS STILL ALIVE GEEZ BUT ALSO PHEW

Ah, Dean Winchester, I love you so much that I can’t even begin to describe it.

Also how convenient that the flare guns are there. Deus ex machina!

Haley would bode well as a hunter, look at her courage, her will. There are more hunters around than Daddy Negan and the brothers, right?

Yeah, seeing the actual wendigo makes me less scared of it now. It’s unnerving, but still.

TEAM DEAN YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAW

Graphics are...alright, but it’s the thought that counts!

Running with the grizzly bear story. Smart Broseidon. Ben. Sorry, you deserve to be called by your real name. I think with practice they could become good hunters, along with their Discount Enrique Iglesias brother! Is there a fanfiction for that? Can I write it now?

...

I AM WILLING TO DIE TO PROTECT DEAN WINCHESTER I

Haley’s a lesbian, that’s why she kissed him on the cheek only. Headcanoned. Also I have a crush on her, she’s really pretty? Like? Heart eyes???

Ah, the siblings parallels again. Let’s hope neither of the two brothers end up in the bed like that.

“Man, I hate camping.” Really. Really really. Really.

“I’m driving”

...

SAM WINCHESTER I’M SORRY I EVER SPOKE ILL OF YOU I WILL PROTECT YOU WITH MY LIFE TOO I PROMISE YOU I WILL

It’s just a sassy bisexual brother and his little snide bisexual brother on the road to kill evil creatures and find their father and I love this show? Help? Help???

I really, really see the charm of Supernatural now! I’m fully invested in both brothers and their story, and I’m cheering them both on! Let’s get Daddy Negan back and get rid of that man-eating tree once and for all!

Six stars out of five!

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

This dare is introducing me to a whole new world, and I really, really am glad I took that jump a few days ago, man!

Thank you everyone for reading my ramblings, and I’ll see you in the day after with the next review! Thank you for sticking with me! Buh-bye!

- Xue

#xue's supernatural dare #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #jensen ackles #sam winchester #jared paladecki #text #i had a really bad day today with my constant pain and aching from the chemo #but this really brought genuine smiles to my face!#what a good show #what a wonderful show #how the FUCK did they fuck it up later #well #i guess i'll find out when i get there lmao

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