#I wonder if they realize how desperate and foolish they sound? like hello! WHAT is wrong with you?!

[sassyandclassy94]

Oh wow the delusionals are delusioning again🥴

[archive-of-alexandria]

Weak Ankles (Zoro x Reader)

A/N: One big helping of Zoro x Reader fluff, full of pining with a healthy dose of yearning. Somewhat inspired by that scene in Hercules, because it just felt too perfect for Zoro <3 xx

**

Zoro has never encountered a fight he can't muscle his way out of.

Having recessed into the corner booth of some podunk tavern while armed with nothing but a dangerously low bottle of sake and a healthy dose of self-imposed misery, however, he feels his chances of winning this particular battle dwindle by the minute.

As his swig bleeds the bottle dry, Zoro groans and drags his hand over his face. He succumbs to his desire to wallow.

Hell or high water, right?

Zoro has never encountered a fight he can't muscle his way out of, but the swordsman has never charged head-first into mushy feelings either.

Perhaps that's why he's seeking refuge back on the Going Merry as the sounds of the party rattle on the breeze behind him, trailing him, like a specter.

Zoro grimaces.

Kunia had once explained sword fighting as a language, and the idea has stuck with Zoro ever since. Sparring matches had turned into spelling bees, each hit earning a vowel or letter.

The first one with enough hits to spell out f-u-c-k-y-o-u was always the winner.

Zoro knows the language of fighting well.

There is no training to be had for situations like these...situations that call for finesse with words that can't be spoken with the hilt of a blade.

The ocean is deep and dark with evening and yet Zoro's eyes are glued to the depths, willing divine intervention to give him a direction.

He gives the railing a small shake, mock-pretending the water is like one of those fortune-teller spheres. No reply but his own reflection.

Outcome is unlikely.

A stirring on the deck catches his attention, hand moving to his hilt as he stiffens.

A soft voice breaks through the night.

"Hello."

...

"Hey."

**

Zoro's eyes zoned in on a figure through the sake's warped glass, the sight impossible to miss even from his hiding place. Zoro's lip had quirked up, though he'll never admit it - another small defeat at the hands of his unsuspecting foe.

Who could ever miss a sight such as you?

No, there was absolutely no way a soul in the taverna could miss the sight of you - your feet planted firmly on a tabletop with your head thrown back in glee. You're a whirlwind of whipping hair and skirts as a maritime shanty pours from your throat. Grog splashes from the stien in your grip, ale sloshing and spraying like the ocean you merrily sing of. The whole of the island seems to be singing with you, the tavern bursting with music and laughter as patrons slur out the words to the refrain.

When Luffy argued that pirating wouldn't be complete without a bard to chronicle the legendary adventures of the Going Merry, Zoro had staunchly opposed the idea. What good would a bard be in battle? What navigation skills, if anything?

Someone can't sing their way to victory.

As Zoro sat mesmerized, he began to think he was very, very wrong.

This is true power, Zoro mused from his place of solitude, Swaying complete strangers with nothing but the sound of your voice.

When he realized he'd been grinning like a fool, Zoro swallowed.

He was desperately losing this uphill battle.

**

The deck of the ship suddenly seems miles long.

Zoro can make out your reddened cheeks in the darkness, alight with the warm glow of youth as a sweet smile settles on your lips.

"You left."

Zoro's heart clenches at the simplicity of your words. He doesn't move.

"Yeah, I did."

Undeterred, you begin to move towards him. It's stumbly, though the sound of your soft chuckle lets him know you're aware of how foolish you seem. He watches as you make your way towards him, your eyes never leaving his face.

A homing beacon.

"I was wondering where you'd gone,"

"Hm?"

"I was saving a dance for you, Zo."

Your voice is quiet. Zoro's blood runs cold.

You had sought him out - he imagines your eyes twinkling, hair wild and free falling all around you like a halo as you reached for him from your makeshift stage only to find him gone.

To punctuate your confession, your feet seem to shuffle in a dance much too elegant for having been stomping on tables and slamming down ale, and yet here you are - light as a feather in the midsummer breeze.

The bouncing of your body keeps in rhythmic time with the gentle crash of the waves, and realization crosses the swordsman's face.

You're not dancing. You're moving through the seogi he has taught you during training.

Zoro's heart swells, a breath of a laugh passing through his lips.

"That's some fancy footwork, twinkle toes."

As if his words jinxed you, your foot catches hold of a divot in the planks. Zoro's reflexes are quick, securing you to his chest as you squeak out a yelp - an arm around your waist and the other on your forearm without so much as a thought.

A bashful smile blooms on your blushing face, cheeks dusted pink from the alcohol and the proximity of your bodies. You try to stand, pressing your forehead to his.

"Hmm..." You chuckle, closing your eyes tight. You bunch up Zoro's tunic in your fingers.

He wonders if you can feel his skin on fire beneath the flimsy fabric.

He holds his breath.

"Weak ankles."

The thick summer air is sucked from Zoro's lungs. You're near catlike in the way you seem to curl into him, nestling closer and closer...

Before the moment settles too deep, you're speaking again.

"Oh! That reminds me of a story...!"

"Haven't you told enough stories tonight?"

Although he teases, Zoro doesn't mean it. No. Not when the sky is clear and bright and your body is pressed so tightly to his and your eyes seem to glitter as they peer into his own.

As you playfully swat his chest and snort out a laugh, Zoro silently vows to spend a lifetime listening to your tales.

"N-No! No," You insist, "This is my last one - promise! Telling stories is my job anyway~!"

No one is around to hear the giggles from the two of you or to see the way Zoro's smile hangs lopsided, or to catch the slight flex of his fingers as he pulls you even closer.

"Well then," He gently butts your forehead with his,

"Go on."

You begin to weave a tale of a brave young soldier, born with great skill and undefeated in battle. You tell Zoro the hero reminds you of him. He stumbles out a "thank you".

You say that the "great soldier" had lived in disguise as a young woman, sparking a short, teasing aside about how he would make a lovely woman (which Zoro vehemently denied).

You speak of a great battle and your gaze is far away, your fingers tracing patterns along Zoro's chest, every tug and pull of the fabric between your fingers tightening the hold on his heartstrings.

You explain how the soldier's mother had dipped him in a river but forgot the heel, and in his final battle was struck down in the very same spot. You make a quip about everyone having their very own "heel" in life before proclaiming that the tale is very romantic and sad.

Your arms slide up and around his neck, fingers finding their way into his hair.

Zoro's jaw clenches. Your eyes fall to his lips.

There is no wind, no waves. The entire world seems to have stopped breathing in anticipation.

Zoro's mind desperately searches for anything from his training to tether himself to at this moment, foggy from the way your breath tickles his face and the blood pounds in his ears.

In an instant, he makes a move.

"Your...your ankle."

He drops to his knee, breaking all contact.

Your breathing shutters, arms wrapping around yourself in comfort.

Zoro is glad it is dark.

He takes in the delicate slope of your ankle in his hand, pulling the bandana from his head to prep a makeshift brace for your sprain.

You sit in silence as he works, though his mind is far from quiet.

Zoro cannot afford to have soft spots like weak ankles. All of his training will be wasted.

No.

Zoro cannot afford to admit that he's in love with you. Not to you, not even to himself.

Your hand gently raking through his hair pulls Zoro from his stupor, eyes snapping up to meet yours.

"My hero," You hum, "Zoro..."

He can see himself reflected in your irises.

Your hand moves to caress his face.

It never happens.

Zoro grabs your wrist before you can even blink, gaze downcast, and grip uncomfortably tight.

"We should get you to bed."

**

Zoro hasn't slept in three days.

You've been avoiding him for three days.

Zoro doesn't blame you, though - he knows that he embarrassed you a few nights ago. Nami makes sure he knows just how badly he fucked up as well, throwing glares in his direction and spitting venom his way...

How could you do that to her?

Don't you realize how much she cares for you?

Have you transported all of your brains into your muscles, asshole?!

The Going Merry was certainly a far cry from merry.

Luffy was the only crewmate who entertained the idea of sparring with Zoro without an alternative motivation to beat the shit out of him for what he's done.

As Zoro countered Luffy's hook, the sound of your laughter floated through the air.

In a moment of weakness, he allowed himself to look.

You were seated as Chopper entertained you with his dance moves, clapping encouragement and cooing praises. The smile on your face made Zoro's chest grow tight.

Luffy had taken the opportunity to pounce in Zoro's distraction, sweeping the swordsman's leg clean out from underneath him.

"Ha HA! Gotcha! Victory!"

Nami whoops from down below, and Zoro mutters a curse.

"What happened there, Zoro?"

Luffy's voice is far away as Zoro thinks back to fighting lessons with you. He had taken Kunia's advice, using his sword to speak the words he could not. Every tap, every jab, each little correction of your form follows the sparring language he had made up as a child.

Every time, he finds ways to spell out i-l-o-v-e-y-o-u.

Zoro had promised to teach you how to fight for selfish reasons. He can't afford to let his weaknesses show, but helping you grow strong enough to protect yourself...that will have to be enough. Even if you can't see it that way.

Zoro sucks his teeth, giving his head a shake as he accepts Luffy's help up.

"Tch - weak ankles..."

[zablife]

Because I love your writing i am going to jump at your headcanons being open (they are all Jack). Might I request. 01. Jealous/possessive (non dark) (can include NSFW) with Jack. 02. Jack with an unwell o/c (health conditions, in hospital). 03. Teasing Jack. 04. essentially I guess all the previous come under dating/being married to Jack. 05. Jack dealing with your jealousy/ you feel you can't trust him. 06. Jack with daughter who is shy and feels unloved. Have a lovely evening xxx

Hello, lovely anon! Tysm for the requests. Love the material for Jack btw!! I am working on them now. I will answer the first two here under the cut and post the others soon.

Jealous/Possesive Jack (Warning: 18+, smut)

*Jack Nelson was a man who liked to own your heart and every bit of affection you gave. He couldn’t stand the idea of you paying attention to anyone else when he was around. It hurt his ego badly.

*You were the most perfect person he’d ever met and he wanted to be the same for you. Trying desperately with his financial and political endeavors to make you proud of him.

*Jack rarely left your side at parties, knowing men would inevitably approach you under some delusion that you would talk to them once and take them to your bed. He knew how foolish it sounded, but still wanted to quash the possibility.

*He preferred for you to stay on his arm all evening even if the politics bored you. He liked to know that you were safe by his side. He had an overwhelming need to protect what was his.

*You loved him, but often felt stifled by his need to control your every movement. You needed to feel that Jack trusted you.

*One night at a ball, you danced with another man. It was a harmless interaction, but the fact that another man had dared to touch you enraged Jack.

*He took you home immediately to make love to you. He needed to hear you scream his name as proof that you loved only him.

*After you’d come several times he rolled over to his side of the bed, satisfied with his performance. “Could any of those bastards there tonight fuck you like that, doll?”

*You were in a stupor from all the pleasure, but managed to reply, “No, Jack. No one makes me feel like you.” And that was all he needed to rest peacefully by your side.

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

Jack x Terminally ill wife reader (Warning: death)

*You tried to hide how unwell you were for a long time before seeking proper care. Your husband and children needed you and you wanted to know how to improve your health as quickly as possible feeling as though you were letting the side down.

*To your dismay, the doctor confirmed a serious diagnosis and you left feeling as though your time was very precious.

*You kept your illness a secret from Jack unsure how to tell him the truth. One day you fainted while cooking dinner and he rushed to your side, realizing something was very wrong. 

*You revealed your secret to him that night and watched your stoic husband cry for the first time in many years. He didn’t know how he would ever live without you and he vowed to find a cure.

*He hired extra help so you wouldn’t have to exert yourself and set about finding the best surgeons for you. 

*When you had to go in hospital, he stayed by your side night and day, rarely eating or sleeping. He had faith in your treament, however, and believed he would have you back the way you were. 

*When he learned that was impossible, he held you to him. He wanted to breath in your scent and hear your voice as much as possible before you left him forever. 

*The day you died, the priest was called and Jack watched him say a prayer over you. He stumbled outside into the bright sunlight, wondering how he would tell your children. He felt so lost in that moment without you. 

*He knew you would want him to be strong for your children and he ventured home determined to be the best father he possibly could, knowing he had two roles to fill now.

*As he held his son and daughter in his arms, he explained that Mommy loved them very much but was needed in Heaven. He promised them they would keep your memory alive and they did.

*Every year on your birthday they visited your gravesite and brought your favorite flowers. As your children grew they understood the importance to their father. Although he had remarried long ago, he had never stopped loving you, too enamored with your memory to give his heart to anyone else.

[baepsaesbae]

Babysitters Club

Pairing— Kim Taehyung x reader    

Genre— SMUT, fluff, babysitting au, strangers to lovers au

Warnings— Dom!Taehyung, roleplaying, face fucking, oral sex (m and f), bondage, explicit rough unprotected sex please stay safe irl, squirting, choking, hickies, a surprise cameo from Spring Will Come Again!Jungkook because I have no self control

Word Count— ~7.6k  

Summary— A generic summer job hunt leads you to babysit rowdy (but still cute) kids alongside the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. What shenanigans will you get into with Taehyung by your side?

A/N— HUGE shoutout to the lovely @kimtaehyunq​​ for making this beautiful banner for me! This was literally the Taehyung I had in mind while writing this uwu. This fic is the epitome of self indulgence but I truly hope you guys like it too! Please let me know what you think! My askbox/inbox is always open, don’t be afraid to come chat with me. Love you all, hope you guys are safe <3

Crumpled up newspapers littered the floor as another ball was apathetically tossed aside. A sigh of defeat escaped your lips as you looked up at the ceiling in desperation.

“Still at it with the job hunt, huh?” your roommate, Hyuna, said when she saw your mess, “I told you to search online. Or try to get a job at a cafe or a boba shop or something.”

“Easy jobs online seem sketchy, and I told you I don’t want to work in the food industry ever again,” you groaned.

“But you’d rather...be a babysitter?” she questioned as she held up an ad, “Wait you could get paid up to $15 an hour? That’s pretty good.”

“I didn’t see that one. Is it an agency or something?”

“Not sure, take a look,” she handed you the paper.

“Oh, it seems like it’s a daycare run out of someone’s house. They’re looking for multiple applicants. You wanna do it with me?! I think it could be fun!” you ask excitedly.

“And spend most of my summer vacation with a bunch of snot nosed brats? I don’t think so. You have fun though!” she blew you a kiss as she walked away.

You whipped your phone out and immediately called the number in the ad. This job was the only one that seemed bearable, and you thought kids were cute for the most part. You’ve had a few babysitting gigs in the past so this shouldn’t be too bad.

“Hello?” a deep voice answered the call.

“Hi, I saw your ad in the paper! I was wondering if there was still a babysitting position open?” you inquired.

“Oh yes! Yeah there’s still a spot open. Um, can you give me a sec?” the man said quickly as you heard wailing kids in the background. After two minutes or so he returned to the phone.

“I’m terribly sorry about that. You don’t have a criminal background or anything right? Gosh, I’m sure this sounds unprofessional but--”

“Nope, I don’t have any charges or anything like that. Should I call back later?” you offered since it seemed like the man was a little preoccupied.

“It’s like this all the time. Why don’t we do a practice run tomorrow? Oh! I mean, whenever you’re available to start. Or technically have an interview? I guess? Hey, don’t put that in your mouth!” the man chastised at someone in the distance.

“I can come in tomorrow!” you said.

“Great! Just use the address in the same ad you got this number from! Oh, and please get here by 9am! See you soon!” the man hung up abruptly.

“That was chaotic…” you said to yourself.

A moment later your phone began to ring. It was from the babysitting guy.

“Hello?” you answered.

“I realized I never got your name! I promise I’m not always this frazzled,” he laughed as rambunctious laughter erupted behind him.

“Oh, I’m ______,” you gave him your first and last name.

“Cool. See you tomorrow Miss ____!” he said before hanging up again.

You were actually excited to babysit. It had been a while since you had done it, and playing with kids was usually fun. Then again, you’ve never had a bad experience with babysitting before. You prayed that this gig would continue the positive trend.

Donning shorts and a simple Mickey Mouse t-shirt, (you figured some kid was bound to like the mousey character) it was time to head off to your potential workplace. The babysitting place was actually fairly close to you, only about a 10 minute drive. It was 8:55am by the time you arrived. A couple of parents walked past your car to drop off their kids. All of the kids seemed to be pretty excited to enter the house, which was definitely a good sign.

You gently knocked on the door at exactly 9am. There was no response as you awkwardly waited for about a minute or so. All you could hear was shrill laughter and thumps that you presumed was the kids running about. You realized there was a doorbell, and sighed at your foolishness.

The door opened seconds after you rang the doorbell. A tall man with dark hair greeted you with a warm smile. You were taken aback by the handsome guy, suddenly questioning whether you were at the right place or not until a child popped up from behind his shoulder and yelled out a loud “Boo!” that caused you to jump.

“Ah, sorry about that! This one is always trying to play pranks,” the man laughed as he playfully jostled the child that was latched onto his back, “You must be ______?”

“That’s me!” you say with a little too much enthusiasm.

“Cool. C’mon in, I’ll introduce you to the kids,” the man led you inside.

The living room was littered with toys, from cars to building blocks to barbies. This place was definitely a kid’s happy place. Four little kids were playing with various things when you walked in. All of the kids there seemed to be between the ages of 4 to 6. At a glance, it seemed like they were all playing house. It took you a few seconds to realize that one of the kids was actually playing by herself; she was just physically close to the other kids.

“Everyone! This is our newest helper! Her name is Miss ____. Let’s all play nicely with her okay?” the man announced.

The kids playing house immediately stopped what they were doing and rushed to you. Two boys began asking you questions in a rapid fire succession, while the little girl merely clung to your leg.

“Those two are Kota and Bel,” the man pointed to the two boys, “The little girl stuck to you like glue is Ava, and the one playing over there is Lucy,” he continued to name each child.

“AND I’M SAM!!” the last boy exclaimed over the man’s shoulder.

“Yes, this troublemaker here is Sam. That’s basically the whole gang! We could get a few more additions as the summer goes on, but these guys are the OG crew. They’re all really sweet kids, once you get to know them. Any questions so far?” your employer asked.

“I don’t think I ever caught your name, sir,” you say politely.

“Oh! No need to call me sir. I think we’re probably around the same age? Not that I’m assuming your age or anything but--”

“He’s my horsey!” Sam interrupted.

“No, he’s the chef!” Kota yelled.

“No, he’s our dad who’s not our dad,” Lucy chimed in.

“My mom told me he was a babysitter?” Bel added, now visibly confused.

“I am all of those things,” the man reassured the children, “But my name is Taehyung. The kids call me Tae or Mr. insert whatever title I have in the game we are playing on that day. Pleasure to meet ya,” Tae extends a hand out to you, “Let’s see how your first day goes.”

The first few hours consisted of a rather intricate game of pretend set up in a fantasy world. You played a princess who was captured by an evil dragon, who was played by Taehyung (you couldn’t help but think about how you wouldn’t mind being his hostage).

The boys were valiant knights on their quest to rescue you. The girls played different creatures that aided the knights as fairies or unicorns or any other things they wanted to be. Most of the game consisted of you and Taehyung sitting together in a corner of the living room. Even though you didn’t have to do anything, it was fun watching the kids play. Their imagination amused you.

“Enjoying yourself, princess?” Taehyung asked as he also watched the children run around.

His deep voice sent chills down your spine. Something about the way the word “princess” rolled off his tongue was so enchanting. You cleared your throat before answering.

“This job has been pretty fun so far, Mr. Evil Dragon,” you smile.

“Hey! I’m not evil, just misunderstood,” he protested.

“Oh no! The dragon is about to eat the princess!” one of the boys cried out.

“What? No, I’m not going to eat her,” Taehyung said defensively.

“You need to pretend to eat the princess so that the knights save her,” Lucy, the quiet one, scuttled over to whisper to the both of you before hurrying back to her spot.

Taehyung turned towards you to appease the kids as they held their breath in anticipation.

“Rawr! I’m going to eat you!” he said in a deep voice.

“Oh no! Somebody save me!” you cried out, playing along.

A few moments passed but none of the kids moved. You both turned your heads towards them in confusion. They stared back at you blankly.

“You need to bite her!” Sam demanded.

“What?” you and Tae said in unison.

“Bite her! Bite her! Bite her!” the boys started to chant.

“But not too hard!” Ava expressed her worry for you, making you smile.

“I…uh…” Taehyung was at a loss for words.

“They’re not gonna stop, are they?” you whispered to him.

He nodded with a sigh as their chanting got louder. You offered him your arm. Kids can be crazy stubborn over silly things. Besides, you’ve done worse for less (college is crazy).

Taehyung shot you an “are you sure about this?” look, to which you just nodded. Once he got the okay, Taehyung grabbed your arm and pulled you harshly, causing your face to be a mere inches away from his.

“Fools! You think you can save the princess? I will devour her before your very eyes!” Taehyung declared with an even deeper voice. He opened his mouth menacingly, as if to show off his fangs. Then, he proceeded to bite your bicep. To be honest, he was being so forceful that you thought he was going to bite you for real, causing you to involuntarily close your eyes.

Instead, he gingerly placed his teeth on your skin so lightly that you could barely feel anything. You opened your eyes to see Taehyung grinning at you with your arm in his mouth.

“Aaaaggghhh GET HIM!!” Sam yelled, leading the other boys straight into Taehyung.

Taehyung quickly let go of you before he rolled out onto the floor. The boys began to pummel Taehyung with their foam swords and pretend bows and arrows. The girls came to your aid to help you escape during the battle.

The little boys triumphantly stood over their defeated babysitter who pretended to be passed out on the floor. You applauded their victory as the girls sat by your side.

“Okay! Good game, it’s almost lunchtime,” Taehyung announced as he quickly popped back up.

“Chef Tae makes the best mac and cheese!” Ava informed you excitedly.

“I wanted dino nuggies!” Sam puffed out his cheeks in disappointment.

“Sam, you know it’s Ava’s day to pick out lunch. It’ll be your turn tomorrow okay? I promise! You guys can stay here and play with Miss ____ till food is ready,” Tae called out as he walked to the kitchen. Lucy silently followed Tae.

“Lucy likes to help out in the kitchen a lot. She sets the table,” Ava explained when she saw you watching Lucy.

“You’re good at being a princess!” Kota butted in as he ran to hug your leg.

“I like your shirt! I like Mickey Mouse too. I saw him in DisneyWorld last year,” Bel said as he clung to your other leg.

The kids took turns holding onto your legs as you tried to walk around. Apparently the thought of making you tumble over was an exciting one, and that kept the kids busy until Taehyung called for everyone.

Five little bowls of mac and cheese were set up on the dining table. The kids took their seats as Taehyung handed out juice boxes. He positioned himself by your side as the little ones began to chow down.

“I normally just eat the rest out of the pot, but since you’re here I can get you a bowl. Sorry about biting you earlier, the kids really like it when I get serious about my roles,” Taehyung chuckled as he scooped out your portion.

“It’s no problem, you’re a great actor. Thank you,” you say politely as he handed you a bowl.

Lunch was spent making small talk with Taehyung. He was a newly graduated college student trying to make extra money before starting a real job hunt.Taehyung had been running this makeshift daycare since he was a senior in highschool.

“Summers are always fun with them,” Taehyung said while smiling fondly at the kids, “How has it been so far?” he asked.

“I’ve been having a good time. The kids are all really sweet! They have so much energy,” you answer.

“They do indeed, which is why playtime is so important in the morning! It makes what comes next easier,” he winked at you before collecting the empty bowls, “Okay kiddos! Who’s ready for nap time?”

Lucy quietly raised her hand while the boys groaned. You figured it would be hard to get those active boys to settle down, let alone to take a nap. You helped Taehyung set up blankets and pillows in the game room. The kids made a beeline to their designated blankets without a fuss.

“Do you sing, Miss _____?” Taehyung asked out of the blue.

“Um, not really?” you say hesitantly.

“Ah, I see. No worries. Everybody ready?” he said.

“Yes!” all the kids replied.

“Alrighty. Do you have any song requests, Miss ____?”

You thought about which songs would make for a decent lullaby, “Do you know Adore You by Harry Styles?”

“I’ll have to look up the lyrics but yeah I like that song! I like his whole album actually,” Taehyung nodded as he pulled out his phone and took a deep breath, “Walk in your rainbow paradise~”

You were shocked by his vocal talent. His voice control was superb and the quality of his voice was downright euphoric. Even though Taehyung’s voice is deeper than Harry Styles’, his range was incredible. He was still able to go as high as Harry without any trouble. All the kids had fallen sound asleep by the time he finished the song.

“This is when I typically have about an hour of free time,” he said after quietly leading you back into the kitchen.

“You have such a beautiful voice! Do you sing to them every day?” you praised him.

“Thanks! Yeah, I sing to them every day. They used to get duets actually,” Taehyung sighed.

“Did you have another coworker before?” you asked.

“Yep. My best friend actually. He’s my roommate too, but he landed an internship this summer so he couldn’t be here. I’m very proud of him! But usually this is a job for two people so I decided to put that ad out. I’m happy you came out! The kids seem to like you,” Taehyung gave you a thumbs up.

“I hope so! Lucy might be scared of me though,” you recalled the way she mostly avoided you all morning.

“Nah, she’s just really shy. She told me that she thought you were really pretty though, so that’s a good sign!” he tried to reassure you.

“I guess it must be true then. Kids are brutally honest,” you smiled.

“She definitely wasn’t lying,” Taehyung smiled back at you.

You had to look away awkwardly to hide your blushed cheeks. There’s no way you could handle a direct smile from this guy. How was it possible for someone to be that handsome without even trying?!

“So what happens after naptime?” you quickly asked to change the subject.

“Basically more playing until their parents come. It honestly just depends on what the kids wanna do. We can play inside, in the backyard, and sometimes we go to the park,” Taehyung answered with an amused smile, “Let’s use this free time to conduct a more formal interview, shall we?”

Taehyung then asked you a series of questions about your summer schedule, if you’re willing to work every day of the week, how you feel about the kids, along with other things. You answered truthfully and kept up a professional demeanor. Taehyung seemed to be satisfied with your answers and leaned back in his chair.

“That all works for me! The people who really need to approve of you are the parents. I’ll introduce you to them later this afternoon. I’m sure they’ll all be fine once I vouch for you,” he nodded.

Soft giggles caught your attention. Taehyung signaled that break time was now over and led the way back to the living room. Kota and Bel were wrestling each other while the others threw pillows at them.  

“Did everyone have a good nap?” Taehyung sing songed.

“Yes!” they replied.

“Can we play house now?” Ava asked.

“Yeah! Miss ____ can be the mommy now!” Sam bounced up in excitement, “Our last mommy used to be a boy.”

“Jimin was a great mommy and I’m sure he misses you all dearly. Jimin is my roommate/best friend/ex-cobabysitter,” Taehyung explained.

The game of house was more hands on from your end. The kids demanded you to carry them and read them stories like a real mommy would. It was mainly the girls who wanted to play with you, while the boys took turns wrestling with Tae or riding on his back. You were braiding Lucy’s hair when the doorbell rang.

“Kota! Your mom is here!” Taehyung called from the front.

All the kids trickled out one by one as their parents arrived. Taehyung introduced you to each parent; their reactions were all positive, especially when their kids raved about you being the new Jimin.

“If she’s anything like Jimin, then I have nothing to worry about. I trust your judgement, Taehyung,” one of the sterner looking parents said (Sam’s father to be exact).

“Congrats! You got the job,” Taehyung congratulated you once all of the children were picked up, “We get paid on Fridays. I’ll basically just split what we earn 50/50, cool?”

“That’s fine by me! I’m looking forward to working with you,” you bow graciously.

“Ah! No need to be so formal. We’re partners now! I’m not your boss or anything,” Taehyung gave you a friendly pat on the shoulder, “See you tomorrow!”

Summer was about to get rather eventful. All of the children warmed up to you surprisngly quickly, even timid Lucy (who had arguably grown the most fond of you). As the days went on, you couldn’t help but admire Taehyung’s kindness and patience when it came to the kids. From firm to understanding, he was everything a caregiver should be. He handled spats between kids with ease, often by making them forgive each other then laugh at some silly joke of his.

One afternoon, the kids voted to watch a Disney movie. All seven of you curled up on the couch together with you and Taehyung in the middle. Lucy sat in your lap while Bel sat in Taehyung’s. Halfway through the movie, Taehyung fell asleep. The kids didn’t notice since they were so engrossed in the movie. You however, DID notice. Mostly because he rolled his sleepy head onto your shoulder.

Your heartbeat quickened as you slowly turned to take a peek at the handsome man sleeping beside you. He looked angelic, and you realized that he smelled pleasant too. He had a sweet scent that was uncharacteristic for a young man. You took a deep breath and pretended not to notice him. He didn’t wake up until the doorbell rang near the end of the movie.

He seemed to be confused and perhaps even slightly flustered when he lifted his head from your shoulder, but quickly shrugged it off to go answer the door. The incident (and the drool on your shoulder) was never mentioned.

It had been a month since you started babysitting with Taehyung, and it honestly had been a lot more fun than you expected. The kids are wonderful silly little beings and Taehyung is...well...Taehyung.

You were cleaning up the living room on a late Friday afternoon after all the kids had been picked up. Taehyung was somewhere splitting up the week’s paycheck. Once all the toys were back in their respective bins, it was time to gather your stuff and go.

“Great work this week,” Taehyung commended as he handed you your cut.

“Thanks! Same to you as always. I’ll see you on Monday,” you wave as you open the front door.

“Actually um--” Taehyung cleared his throat.

“Yes?” you whipped around with almost too much eagerness.

“My friend is part of an art gallery showing tomorrow night and I was wondering if you’d like to go with me? I heard there will be drinks and finger foods…” Taehyung trailed off, presumably due to imagining what kind of snacks will be served.

“I’d love to! I’m not an expert on art or anything, but it sounds cool,” you smile.

“No worries, I’m no expert either. I’m just a guy who appreciates neat expressions of creativity,” he nodded humbly, “I can pick you up at your place, if you’d like.”

“Sure, I’ll text you my address. Oh uh, what’s the dress code like? I don’t really attend these things,” you ask shyly.

“I’d say a step down from formal? Like no t-shirts or jeans. Pretend like you’re going on a date to some restaurant that isn’t a michelin star but is still classier than Olive Garden,” Taehyung tried to explain.

“I’ll do my best,” you smile at his peculiar way of describing the appropriate attire.

A smile never left your face as you drove home. A chance to hangout with Taehyung one on one without any kids around? All of his attention will be on you? Yes please. You love the kids and all, but you finally have a real chance to get closer to Taehyung. To be honest, you might have the teensiest little crush on him, but who could blame you?

The next day was spent preparing for your night out with Taehyung. It probably wasn’t a date (90% sure it’s not), but you wanted to look irresistible anyway. You put on a purple dress with flowy sleeves that made you feel like a princess. It was on the dressier side, but being slightly overdressed never hurt anyone.

You usually only had time to slap on mascara and a lip tint in the mornings before babysitting, but now you had abundant time to play around with your makeup. You settled for a soft yet glamorous look with shimmery eyeshadow and eyeliner. Sparkly lip gloss tied the whole look together and made your lips look tempting (or so you hoped). You decided to leave your hair alone since you were having a miraculously good hair day.

“Wow are you sure this isn’t a date?” Hyuna whistled when she walked into your room.

“It’s not! This is just the first time Taehyung will see me actually trying to look good,” you say defensively.

“You’re cute even in ratty t-shirts, but I get what you mean. Have fun tonight!” your roommate gave you a tight hug.

A strong knock on your front door indicated Taehyung’s arrival. Hyuna tagged along as you went to answer the door; she wanted to see the guy you’ve been gushing over for the past month for herself.

Your mouth hung open in shock for a split second when you opened the door. Taehyung also dressed up. He was wearing a bright sunflower shirt paired with a black blazer that perfectly combined fun with sophistication. He wore a red silky bandana looking belt for an added pop of color with his black pants.

“Hey Taehyung!” you greet him happily.

“Good evening, Miss ____. You look spectacular!” he complimented you immediately.

“So do you! It’s funny seeing you not in a t-shirt, though I’m sure you’re thinking the same thing,” you say.

“You’re charming even in your graphic tees, but this is a nice change of pace too,” Taehyung agreed.

“Hi! I’m Hyuna, ____’s roommate,” Hyuna butted in to shake his hand.

“Hi, I’m Taehyung, ____’s babysitting partner,” he introduced himself.

“We should get going,” you say politely before Hyuna could start to get chatty.

Hyuna mouthed an exaggerated “oh my god” coupled with a double thumbs up as you waved goodbye after Taehyung was already out the door. You playfully rolled your eyes but blew her a kiss anyway.

“I didn’t realize you lived so close to me,” Taehyung said as he pulled away from the curb.

“Yeah, it made the job even more appealing,” you nodded.

“I really am glad that you applied,” Taehyung said softly, as if to himself.

“Sorry, what was that?” you couldn’t hear him properly.

“Nothing! I said I’m glad you agreed to accompany me tonight!” Taehyung quickly stated.

“Thanks for inviting me out! I’m actually pretty excited,” you admitted.

The gallery was somewhere in the swanky part of downtown. You gazed out of the window at all of the high end stores Taehyung drove by. Everyone walking around the stores looked like supermodels, which was actually pretty intimidating. What if the people at the gallery looked like that too?

“We’re here!” Taehyung announced, interrupting your thoughts.

There was a decent amount of people wandering around the venue when you both entered. It was basically one big dimly lit room with spotlights on pieces scattered around on the walls plus some sculptures in the middle. Thankfully, the patrons already inside looked like normal people, most of them probably students like you.

“Taehyung!” someone called from the side of the room.

You both made your way towards the voice, only to find a man who was just as handsome as Taehyung greeting you with a bunny like smile. He had long hair that almost covered up his assorted dangly earrings. He definitely had art student vibes mixed with a dash of bad boy. The boys greeted each other with a ferocious hug, indicating that they’re probably good friends.

“Oh! What’s up, I’m Jungkook,” the boy shook your hand once he noticed you.

“She’s my babysitting partner this summer,” Taehyung said proudly.

“She’s replacing Jimin huh?” Jungkook laughed, “Taehyung and Jimin are like my brothers. We were all pretty close in college and are batchmates, even though I’m younger than them,” he stuck his tongue out at Taehyung.

“Yeah yeah okay whatever. Skipping grades in elementary school and bringing in a ton of transfer credits will help you do that I guess,” Taehyung shook his head even though he was still smiling.

“Are these your pictures?” you asked Jungkook, motioning to the mounted pictures behind him.

“Yeah! I took most of these in Madrid, I’ve been working abroad for my dream company,” Jungkook answered you proudly.

“Who’s this?” Taehyung pointed to a picture of a girl laughing by a giant tree.

“Yeah, she’s gorgeous!” you added.

“She’s um...a good friend. She was the perfect model,” Jungook said with a faraway look in his eyes that told you there was more to the story.

“Tell me more about her on our next phone call. Tonight is for celebrating you!” Taehyung picked up on Jungkook’s sudden change of tone.

You enjoyed listening to their old college stories as the boys reminisced about their past together. Jungkook relished telling you all of Taehyung’s embarrassing moments at various parties. Taehyung returned the favor by recalling Jungkook’s past run-ins with women. Despite his natural charm and god like looks, apparently Jungkook gets really nervous around girls.

You and Taehyung were on your own once Jungkook was flagged down by an older patron interested in purchasing some of his work. Taehyung stayed close to your side as you explored the rest of the gallery. Each artist was so incredibly talented as their pictures told  stories with just a single frame.

“____ look! They have those fancy charcuterie boards!” Taehyung grabbed your hand and excitedly dragged you over to the snack table. You couldn’t help but smile at his childlike elation.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ve been getting tired of being force fed fruit snacks every day,” you laughed as you ate the assorted appetizers.

“I completely understand. Unfortunately, the kids are too sweet when they want to share. I don’t have it in me to turn them down,” Taehyung agreed.

Once the food was eaten, you resumed walking through the gallery. It was fun making up stories to go with each picture. Taehyung seemed to gravitate towards adding a romantic twist to each story, while you opted for a bit of mystery. At the end of the event, Taehyung met up with Jungkook once more to say his goodbyes.

“Thanks again for coming with me, I had fun! I hope you enjoyed yourself,” Taehyung said as he drove you back.

“It was really neat! I liked hanging out with you outside of work,” you nodded.

“Would you say it was a successful date then?” Taehyung raised an eyebrow with curiosity. Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes widened with surprise.

“Was...was this a date?” you asked quietly.

“Did you want it to be?” Taehyung teased.

“I wouldn’t have gotten so dressed up otherwise,” you said defensively, taken aback by his sudden cheekiness.

“I realized I should’ve clarified that after you had already left. My bad,” Taehyung shot you a boxy grin, “But then I figured maybe you would be more relaxed if I didn’t mention it.”

“That’s odd logic, but I guess it worked,” you admitted begrudgingly.

Taehyung walked you back up to your house. He sweetly kissed your cheek and bid you goodnight, leaving you frozen in place.

“S-see you on Monday!” was all you were able to stammer out, to which Taehyung just smiled and waved back.

Hyuna happily freaked out with you once you were back inside. She was watching you from the moment Taehyung pulled back up. She shrieked with excitement once you told her that Taehyung confirmed that it was a date. Hyuna didn’t let up with grilling questions about how your night went. She even asked if the Jungkook guy you met was single, to which you truthfully answered that you didn’t know.

“Besides, he told me himself that he’s scared of girls. You’re scary enough as is,” you teased her.

“Oh shut up. So is Taehyung like, your boyfriend now?” Hyuna asked the million dollar question.

“I don’t think so. I think it was just a date, but that’s a good start!” you declared optimistically.

Babysitting on Monday went on like normal. Taehyung didn’t act any differently, which was both concerning and relieving. You were in the backyard pretending to eat whatever dirt concoction the little kids were serving you.

“This one is for you,” Lucy quietly offered Taehyung a clump of dirt sprinkled with blades of grass, topped with a dandelion.

“Oh, how pretty! What is it?” Taehyung played along.

“It’s a love potion. The next person you hug will fall in love with you,” Lucy smiled.

A smirk crept on Taehyung’s face as he pretended to eat Lucy’s love potion. He made a satisfied “Ahh” sound that made Lucy giggle.

“Tae has to hug me now! He loves me the most!” Sam yelled as he ran over to latch onto Taehyung.

“No, Tae loves me!” Bel argued as he pulled on Taehyung’s shirt.

“That’s not how it works!” Lucy huffed as she yelled at the boys.

You watched with delight as the little kids chased Taehyung around the backyard, demanding that he has to hug them. It was easy for him to juke them out as they constantly ran back and forth. You were content with just watching them until Taehyung began to make a beeline for you.

“Oh no no no,” you cried as you got up to run.

Taehyung (and the kids) chased you around for a little bit. The backyard was on the smaller side, so there wasn’t much space to evade all of them coming for you at once. To make matters worse, Taehyung actually started to try and catch you. His speed was no joke; he was much more agile than you gave him credit for.

With one pounce, Taehyung tackled you to the ground. Somehow he managed to whip himself around while you were falling, so you ended up falling on him. Now wrapped up in his arms, Taehyung smiled up at you with a shit eating grin.

“I guess you have to fall in love with me now,” he smirked.

“You wish,” you laughed as you pulled yourself up.

“Aw now he loves Miss _____,” Sam pouted.

“No, now Miss ____ has to fall in love with Tae,” Ava corrected him.

“That’s dumb,” Kota shook his head.

“Tae! Kota said a bad word!” Bel immediately tattled.

“Kota, remember what I said about bad words. No one wants to play with someone who says mean things,” Taehyung chided him.

“Sorry,” Kota mumbled.

“Let’s play go play inside. Who wants juice?” Taehyung patted Kota’s head.

The kids followed Taehyung inside like little ducklings. You loved that sight, you always thought it was the cutest thing. The rest of the day went by without a hitch.

The topic of favorite movies came up during lunchtime the next day.

“I like Frozen 2,” Ava stated, and Lucy nodded furiously in agreement.

“Detective Pikachu was better. Pikachu is funny,” Sam interjected. The other little boys then began to argue about which pokemon was better/stronger.

“I’m not really a big movie watcher,” Taehyung confessed as he took a bite of a dino chicken nugget.

“Have you at least seen the classics? Harry Potter? Lord of the Rings? Star Wars?” you listed with concern.

“I’ve seen Harry Potter and Star Wars. I think I saw the Lord of the Rings? I can’t really remember. I know I wanted to watch the newer Lord of the Rings movies,” he chuckled at your growing disbelief.

“Newer Lord of the Rings? You mean the Hobbit series?” you were disgruntled.

“Yeah those. I didn’t realize you were a nerd,” he nudged you.

“What of it? All of those are great movies. I have copies of the Hobbit series if you ever wanted to watch them,” you offered.

“Do you wanna watch them with me?” he perked up.

“Sure, I love them! You wanna do a marathon? It’ll take up a full day though,” you warned.

“I’m down. Are you free this Sunday?”

“I believe so.”

“Great! I’m excited to see you geek out over hobbits. Okay kids, naptime!”

You drove up to Taehyung’s place Sunday morning, you weren’t kidding when you said it would take all day. Taehyung said to dress comfortably so you showed up in your sweatpants and oversized college tee. He answered the door wearing gray sweatpants and his favorite CELINE shirt. His dark fluffy hair fell over his forehead and was almost long enough to cover his eyes.

“Good morning! I hope you’re hungry. I made some waffles to eat while we watch the first movie,” he greeted you.

His humble abode smelled heavenly as the scent of dough tinged with a hint of cinnamon wafted through the air. The soft belgian waffles were delicious as they practically melted in your mouth. Taehyung asked a ton of questions with nearly every scene, but you didn’t mind. You were happy to flex your knowledge of Tolkien lore.

Hours later, you found yourself cuddled up with Taehyung as the final credits of the Battle of Five Armies began to roll. Taehyung was still trying to process everything that happened as he asked you clarifying questions about each character.

“Well crap, now I’m sad,” he pouted.

“Yeah, the ending is kind of a downer, but that’s what makes it so good! The Lord of the Rings has a happy ending if that makes you feel better,” you look up at him from his chest.

“You look cute like that,” he observed.

“Like what? Tiny from your angle?” you tilted your head.

“I guess so? Tiny, maybe submissive,” Taehyung’s voice lowered with his suggestion.

“Submissive? Is that how you see me?” you sit back up completely with defiance.

“Not at all. You’re pretty feisty, which is why making you be submissive is even more alluring,” he raised his eyebrow in a suggestive manner.

“Do you want me to be a damsel in distress for you? Not happening,” you smirked.

“Pretty princesses are good for one thing,” Taehyung hopped off the couch.

Before you could say anything, he promptly grabbed you and swung you over his shoulder. You were too shocked by his boldness and physical abilities to retaliate.

“They’re perfect for kidnapping!” he let out a dramatic evil laugh as he carried you off to his bedroom.

Once there, he roughly threw you on the bed. You couldn’t help but look around curiously since this was the first time you’ve ever seen his room. It was surprisingly neat; his bed was made and there were no messy clothing piles in sight.

“Are you an evil dragon then? Capturing princesses and such?” you teased.

“Evil dragon, dashing captor, I can be anything you want me to be. Just please not an orc,” he let out a chuckle before getting back into character, “Just know that you’re trapped here with me. No one is going to rescue you.”

“Oh no! What a terrible situation to be in! What on Earth is this extremely handsome dragon going to do with a poor defenseless princess like me?” you taunted.

“Ok this is all very hot but before we go any further, are you okay with this?” Taehyung asked sincerely.

“I can’t think of anything that I’ve wanted more,” you nodded.

“Perfect. Safe word is red,” he winked at you, “Now strip for me, princess.”

“And if I don’t?” you challenged.

Taehyung grabbed a fistful of hair on the back of your head and forcefully brought you up to his face, “I suggest not making me angry,” he sneered.

You didn’t think you were one for being manhandled, but god damn that was hot. There was already a tingle between your legs and he hadn’t even really touched you yet. You complied with his request, and quickly tore off your shirt and pants. Though you weren’t wearing any fancy lingerie, you were wearing a gray bra and gray panties that could pass off as matching.

“Mmm what a pretty treasure. It would be a shame to let it gounappreciated,” Taehyung stretched out that last word as he gently ran his fingers from your torso up to your neck before firmly grasping it.

Taehyung straddled you as his long fingers were wrapped around your neck. Slowly, he leaned down to kiss you. Though apprehensive at first, he gradually got more bold with it. His tongue dipped into your mouth the instant your lips parted. His other hand crept under your bra to fondle your breast.

“You take your clothes off too,” you said as soon as the kiss broke.

“You don’t get to make any demands, silly princess,” Taehyung shook his head.

You pouted and reached out to tug at his pants anyway. Big mistake. Taehyung slapped your hand away and slammed you back onto the bed.

“You don’t listen, huh? I’ll have to do something about that. Stay still or else you’ll make things worse for yourself,” he ordered.

You reluctantly obeyed, partly because you were curious about what he was going to do, and partly because you were actually intimidated by him. He returned back to the bed a few seconds later, but with a familiar silky red belt in hand.

“Give me your hands. Good girl,” he smiled deviously as he bound them together, “Remember the safe word is red, okay?” he gently reminded you.

He looked down at you with a satisfied grin as he began to take off his sweatpants. He had an obvious bulge in his underwear that outlined his massive dick. You were further entranced by his physique when he took off his shirt. He wasn’t ripped, but he was still fit, as you could plainly see when his chest was finally revealed.

“Open wide, princess,” he demanded.

You opened your mouth, and even flattened your tongue out a little bit for him. He pulled his cock out of his underwear, finally exposing his full length. You doubted you could fit even half of him in your mouth, but at this point it wasn’t up to you.

Taehyung lowered himself down to you, and teasingly tapped the tip of his cock on your tongue. He slowly eased himself into your mouth, forcing you to open your mouth even wider to account for his girth. He made his way back out once you gagged. He grabbed your head to hold you steady as he fucked your mouth once more. He got closer and closer to the back of your throat until he finally hit it. All you could focus on was breathing as tears welled up in your eyes. Taehyung thrusted a couple more times before he pulled out completely.

“Good girl indeed. Well done, princess,” he softly stroked your chin before wiping your tears away. All you could do was smile meekly back at him.

“Don’t worry, it’s time for your reward,” Taehyung smiled down at you as his hand slipped under your panties, “Oh you’re so wet. I can’t wait to taste you.”

He positioned himself between your thighs after he tore off your panties. His thumb fiddled with your clit, causing you to squirm. He placed a strong grip on your thigh to hold you down as he circled your clit faster. Your helpless whimpers were music to Taehyung’s ears.

Without warning, he easily stuck two fingers into you. He didn’t even let you adjust as he rapidly fingered you, his fingers curving to graze your g-spot with every stroke. His tongue swirled around your clit, adding even more toe curling sensations.

Him adding a third finger was the catalyst for the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had in your life. There wasn’t even a build up, everything just hit you at once. Suddenly you were crying out even louder as you violently came. Did it occur to you that you were squirting all over Taehyung and his bed? No. Were you doing exactly that? Absolutely.

“Delicious,” Taehyung said as he licked his lips, “Look at the fucking mess you made.”

“I-i’m sorry,” you managed to stutter, you were still recovering from your orgasm.

“It’s only fair that it’s my turn to make a mess now. Do I need to get a condom, princess?” he cooed.

You weakly shook your head. You needed to feel all of him, right now. Taehyung chuckled at your neediness as he aligned himself with your pussy. He slowly inserted his entire length into you until the base of his cock touched your soaked pussy. You moaned together as he stayed still for a second. You looked up to see Taehyung’s face lit up with pure bliss.

“You’re still so fucking wet,” he growled as he began to mercilessly buck his hips into you.

You moaned with every thrust as Taehyung shook the entire bed. Taehyung placed both of your legs on his shoulders, allowing him to hit you even deeper from this new angle. He leaned over to plant his lips on your neck as he fucked you. What started as a gentle peck took a violent turn as he harshly sucked on your neck. He left dark spots wherever his lips touched, and soon you were covered in dark blooms.

“Do you want me to soil your back or your chest?” he asked in a guttural tone.

“Back?” you answer dubiously.

You were immediately flipped over. You were laying flat on your chest waiting for him to prop up your ass, but he never did. Instead, he simply spread your legs wider and fucked you flat against the bed. Taehyung grabbed your ass and spread your cheeks to get a better view of your sopping pussy. You could feel another orgasm brewing as he fucked even deeper into you, and his cock was continuously dragging against your g-spot.

“Taehyung, I--”

“I know, princess. Let it all out. I want to feel you come on my dick,” he demanded.

A few more strong strokes was all it took for you to go limp under him as your orgasm took over. Seconds after you hit your high, Taehyung pulled out and came all over your back.

Once you were all cleaned up, Taehyung untied you and kissed your forehead.

“How was it, princess?” he asked as he stroked your hair.

“I’ve never been fucked by a beast before, but now I don’t want anything else,” you admitted before kissing his neck.

“Good. I was worried about going overboard. As I told you before, I really like getting into character,” he laughed.

“I’ve never been into roleplay but I’m willing to change for you. Oh shit, it’s late already,” you noticed the time on his alarm clock.

“Just stay the night. I don’t think the kids will care if you’re wearing sweatpants or not. I can lend you a turtleneck to cover up those hickies though,” Taehyung yawned.

“Are you sure?” you questioned.

“Yeah, I don’t mind. Be warned, I’m a cuddler,” he pulled you closer to him.

“I guess I can sleep in a little later then,” you reasoned.

“Perfect. Goodnight, princess,” he quickly kissed your lips.

“You’re sleeping like that?”

“Like what?”

“Butt naked?”

“I can put clothes on if it makes you uncomfortable. I just figured it would make things easier for tomorrow morning,” he said sleepily.

“Tomorrow morning?” that got your attention.

“You’ll see! Be patient, princess. Night night.”

Never in a million years would you have guessed that applying for a babysitting job would result in this, but you weren’t complaining.

Published April 17, 2021. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2021 Baepsaesbae.

[piedpiperslists]

hello

can you recommend some long tae os?

Hi. I'm not sure what you consider a long one shot, but I listed here fics with word count > 15k. There's about 20+ fics here so I've put it under the cut.

* s - contains smut

WC > 15K - 20K

Dick on the Go by jeonggukingdom - one shot (s) / wc~20.7k / childhood friends au, PWP Summary: It was all shits and giggles when you and Taehyung were desperate seniors in High School, having no idea what to do with your lives, wondering if you’d ever find a decent job or even graduate in the first place. It is not so funny anymore when you come home from the big city to enjoy your vacation time and you find his sex-shop right in front of the house you grew up in when you were a kid. “If nothing works out I’m just gonna open a sex shop and call it something obnoxious like ‘Dick on the Go’ or something with a stupid zucchini logo flashing on top of the building.” He had said one time. Shit, you had no idea he actually meant it.

Four Weeks by gukyi - one shot / wc~20k / enemies to lovers, college au, roommates au Summary: Four weeks. That’s how long you’re trapped on campus after missing your flight home because of a grossly overtime final. And as you’re walking around your empty campus, thinking that you could sink no lower, you find yourself alone in the art building with a certain freshman-year-dorm-neighbor from hell, and he’s got an offer that you don’t think you can refuse: he’s staying on campus this winter break as well, and he’s happy to let you live with him. Or, four weeks is all it takes to fall in love.

Get You the Moon by bymoonchild - one shot (s) / wc~19.6k / enemies to lovers, college au Summary: Life has its ways of fucking with you, but you know you’ve hit 50 feet below rock bottom after being tasked to do a profile feature on Kim Taehyung, the varsity football captain, for your school newspaper. Pure torment awaits you, but this is alongside glassy eyes, pink cheeks and conflicted feelings that you’ve never dared to imagine with the likes of the devil incarnate.

Holding You Like This by jimilter - one shot (s) / wc~18k / club owner!Taehyung, journalist!reader, exes to lovers Summary: Taehyung didn’t anticipate seeing you tonight, least of all with a date by your side, but he guesses it’ll be okay because it has been over five years since he last saw you and he has moved on. But the air is far from cleared between you both. So when confrontations start to happen, all of the pain from his past he thought he had overcome makes itself known, unwelcome.

I'll Break You In by prolixitae - one shot (s) / wc~16k / established relationship, PWP Summary: Your boyfriend has a virgin kink and a vivid imagination. Which means you’re subjected to giving your fake virginity to your hot professor by means of roleplay.

Let It Snow by suga-kookiemonster - one shot (s) / wc~18.8k / FWB Summary: It all started by accident, but it continues by choice—even before you began sleeping together, things with your friend Taehyung have always been comfortable and easy. Simple, and this new arrangement between you is certainly no exception to that rule. Well…that’s definitely what you thought before a major snowstorm traps the two of you in his apartment over the holidays. Now? Now, it is quickly becoming apparent that things are a bit more complicated than you realized.

Love is a Foolish Thing by whitesparrows97 - one shot (s) / wc~20k / FWB Summary: Falling in love… it sounded so simple. Falling. Like one wrong step, a small stumble and you were deeply in love. But there was nothing easy about love.

Moon Breaker by magicalsalamander - one shot (s) / wc~17k / werewolf au Summary: Tales as old as time were passed through the werekind. If a human and a kind were to be mates, the moon would take them, the misfortune, to serve the Goddess. Taehyung, a kind, had always heard of the tales told by his elders. The alpha of his kind. He didn’t expect to find his mate, one of the non-kinds. Would the moon reap her back?

Not That Good by taleasnewastime - one shot (s) / wc~20k / strangers to lovers, college au Summary: It’s not that he’s always had rave reviews and it’s not like he is so into himself to think that everyone is into him, but he’s never failed to make a girl orgasm before. At least until you. And at least he thinks he’s always managed to please the people he’s been with. But you’ve planted a seed of doubt in his mind, made him think that maybe he doesn’t quite have the moves he thinks he does, and now you’ve worked your way into his head he can’t get you out.

One of the Boys by littlemisskookie - one shot (s) / wc~20.2k / childhood friends to lovers Summary: All your life you wanted only one thing- for Kim Taehyung to like you. You did everything you could to make this happen, from picking up his hobbies and rejecting anything feminine. But who do you start to become when you stop trying to impress him?

Paper Cranes by aquaminwrites - one shot (s) / wc~18.3k / friends to lovers, college au Summary: It is said that if someone folds 1000 paper cranes, they will receive one wish. Kim Taehyung has been folding you paper cranes since he was six years old. He won’t tell you what he’s going to wish for once he reaches his goal, but even into your twenties, all you know is that he’s been wishing for the same thing every time.

Saudade by chateautae - one shot (s) / wc~16k / choreographer!reader, established relationship, idol au Summary: A demanding idol lifestyle was something Taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. It wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, Taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it’s time to find out why.

Slowdance on the Inside by floralseokjin - one shot (s) / wc~20k / friends to lovers Summary: Taehyung has liked you as long as he can remember. He’s unsure when the line blurred from friendship to romantically, but it’s about to get a lot worse when he’s forced to watch you date his friend, Jungkook…

Tripping on Skies, Sipping Waterfalls by jimilter - one shot (s) / wc~19.2k / established relationship, college au Summary: One drink too many at Hoseok’s Halloween party, and you’ve blanked out on the entire night that followed. Now, who’s gonna fill you in when Taehyung looks one second away from breaking into tears when you bring it up with him? From running across the university campus in remnants of your vampire outfit, to dealing with your downtrodden boyfriend’s disappointed stares - you’re left with one hell of a day, and zero recollections.

Truth and Consequences by iamjungkooked - one shot (s) / wc~20.5k / vampire au Summary: When Kim Taehyung makes his existence known to you, you're enamoured, enraptured and bewitched by him. You can’t get enough of him. Finding yourself in a relationship you are unable to label, you realize you’re ready to lose yourself and everything that matters to you if it means he’ll be a part of your life. But what happens when Taehyung isn't ready to face his truth and neither its consequences?

WC > 20K

Always the Bridesmaid by kookingtae - one shot (s) / wc~34.1k / enemies to lovers Summary: When you first meet Kim Taehyung, you’re determined to find every reason you can to hate him—or maybe he’s just looking for ways to get on your last nerve. But when a turn of events has the two of you working the wedding of the man you’re hopelessly in love with, you’re too late to realize the real reason to hate Kim Taehyung is because of the latest column he’s secretly writing: “Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Bride”, and it’s all about you.

Cheap Skate by gukslut - one shot (s) / wc~25.2k / established relationship Summary: Granny Park’s Gossip: Who doesn’t know Taehyung and his lady? Cutest couple in town, I’d say, and have been since they started dating in their college days. Oh, that was a while ago, though. And still, they’re happy as can be in that place they have together. Almost hate seeing one without the other, y’know, it’s like seeing just one testi- oh, right, I’m not supposed to talk like that. Anyhoo, I only say that because I saw Taehyung at a jewelry store the other day while I was buying my sweet Jiminie his presents. Maybe that boy’s finally gonna pop the question, but I do hope he’s got a good plan for it. Something sweet and romantic. Maybe I’ll find out after Jiminie gets back from that cabin he’s visiting.

Exchanging Heat by jinfizz - one shot (s) / wc~25.1k / college au, roommates au Summary: When your roommate drops out right before the end of the semester and leaves you high and dry for next month’s rent, you’re forced to turn to craigslist to find an absolute stranger to save you from financial ruin. The shy Korean exchange student you find to replace her seems nice enough despite the language barrier, but what will happen when the heat cuts off one fateful evening, and you’re forced to turn to each other for warmth? Alternatively: “I want to sleep with you.” ‘You what?”

Farmer Boy, I Love You by strawberrynamjoon - one shot (s) / wc~35k / childhood friends to lovers, farming au Summary: Needing change in your life you decided it would be a brilliant idea to move to your uncle’s small farm, helping him and your cousin Jimin with the daily work. What you didn’t plan was to fall in love with your beautiful yet very annoying neighbour Taehyung, who seemed to make it his personal mission to tease you every chance he got. And what you expected even less was that he seemed to like you too.

Love Me or We Both Go Down by gukyi - one shot (s) / wc~32k / enemies to lovers, arranged marriage Summary: After going through with an arranged marriage to please his parents and secure his inheritance of the family business, Kim Taehyung thinks he’s got it all figured out. He doesn’t. Apparently just being married to you isn’t enough, not when everybody and their mother can pick up on the fact that the two of you absolutely loathe each other. But Taehyung wants his inheritance one way or another, so he decides that desperate times call for desperate measures: the two of you need to fall in love, and you need to fall in love fast.

Office Politics by taleasnewastime - one shot (s) / wc~27.7k / enemies to lovers, coworkers au Summary: Starting a new job is never easy and nerves course through you when you enter your new office. But when everyone is really nice and you enjoy the job, you assume that everything is fine and there was nothing to worry about. That is until you bump into the man that seems to know all about your past, a past that you have been trying so hard to hide.

Rubies and Roses by min-youngis - one shot / wc~40k / strangers to lovers, fake dating Summary: Being a fake girlfriend slash fiancée slash wife for hire is a very lucrative business, and quite straightforward. But none of your previous clients have been Kim Taehyung, who wants access to his trust fund and thinks he can convince his parents that he can be responsible with it by proving that he can hold down a mature, completely normal and not-at-all fake relationship. This isn’t any job, and the boundaries between customer and something more are about to get increasingly blurry.

The Holi-Date by kpopfanfictrash - one shot (s) / wc~40.5k / fake dating, neighbors au Summary: When your ex-boyfriend becomes engaged to his new girlfriend at your annual Holiday party, you admittedly are not in the best place. Which explains why you down six shots of alcohol, enthusiastically drop it low on the dance floor and – oh, yeah – tell everyone you are also dating someone. The only problem? You are obviously not. Good thing your neighbor happens to be cute and in need of a ride to work every morning.

Upstream Colour by honeymoonjin - one shot (s) / wc~22.7k / strangers to lovers Summary: Escaping to Venice for a break from your strenuous job was meant to be simple. Go there, decompress for two weeks, and return feeling invigorated. But the soulful gondolier you meet on the docks in Saint Mark’s Square has you wanting to never leave at all.

[sylverstorms]

Mother Miranda x Lawyer!Oc ----Tilted Scales

Hello guys :) This is another commission I wrote for the amazing, wonderful @saltwatereulogies

Your support has been insane, I can't thank you enough. Hope you enjoy the story ❣

Three days.

That is how long you've been in the village, after years of studying abroad, before everything turns to shit.

As you slowly blink focus back into your eyes, you try to clear the haze from your mind. It feels as though you've collided with a truck. Your body hurts, your wrists protest in their iron cuffs, stuck to the wall as they are, having supported your weight while you were unconscious.

Desperately, you try to recollect the events that led you here...

A grey sky. A bleak day. One moment you were making coffee for your mother, excited to be able to sit down with her in the mornings again... and the next you heard the echo of screams.

Overcome by adrenaline, you bolted out of your house, only to witness a scene straight from a nightmare; humanoid monsters ripping villagers apart, cries and blood and animalistic growls all blending together into one mad mix.

And before you could even warn your mother...

Damn it all, what the fuck happened!

You suddenly struggle against your bonds, hard enough to rattle your whole frame. Your wrists burn from the grind against metal, but you don't care–

“Stop that. It is pointless and you will only injure yourself.” A cold voice, strangely familiar, says from far to your right.

You peer deep into the shadows, searching for the only other person in the empty room... until you see her. A mask advances on you, gold and shaped like a crow's visage, then wings folded into a cloak come into view.

You would be a fool to not recognize her. The local saint. The village's prophet. The very 'saint' your mother prayed to, for your safe return, all these years. Mother Miranda.

The sound of her heels bounces off the walls until she comes to stand directly in front of you. Looking past the openings of her mask now, you realize....

This isn't possible.

She hasn't aged a day. Not a single day, since you left the village. The years should show around her deadly blue eyes, somewhere, and yet they don't.

“I see you remember me...” she says, while you're still trying to find your voice. “Miss Warren.”

“What is going on? Mother Miranda, what happened to the village?!” you demand.

Her expression shows nothing. “The village is in need of... renovation.” she speaks, even, regal. “Repopulation, even.”

You stare at her with wide eyes.

“Now, don't give me that look. You would not be here if you weren't of the ones I chose to keep.” she continues. “You see, from now on, every single person in my domain will make themselves useful in some way, or they will be replaced. And you... you have been abroad studying law for a while now, yes?”

“I... yes.” you reply, still not fully having wrapped your mind around your situation.

“Excellent. What I need from you is simple. You will make the village independent from the state’s taxes as a religious organization... and you will keep foreign investors out from that point onward.”

What... what part of that is simple?!

“Do that for me and in return I guarantee your mother and you will go back to your house safe and sound. You will have no shortage of Lei for as long as you live, Miss Warren.” Miranda promises.

But it is not the sweet part of the deal your mind stays glued to. “And if...” you gulp. “If I can't work around the law to do that...?”

Miranda blinks slowly at you, like you shouldn't even ask such a basic question. Like the answer is obvious.

“Well. Then I have no further use for either of you.”

It is in this moment that it dawns on you.

This woman is no angel and no saint.

She is a devil.

-

-

You spend countless sleepless nights pouring over every single paragraph, every little opening or ambiguity in the law you can use to free the village of taxes.

To keep your mother in the dark about this, you work in the office Mother Miranda has provided for you, in her very stronghold.

Although technically it's her home, you don't see her nearly as much as you initially thought. She is gone throughout the day and returns late at night, not even sparing you a glance before heading for her chambers, at the upper sections of the building.

The days she does come into your office to inquire on your progress are few and far-between, your conversations always short and cold.

This evening is different.

“How is your work coming along, Miss Warren?” the prophetess asks with her aggravatingly nice accent, seating herself like a queen on the chair in front of your desk.

Your eyes are tired, but you force them on hers, through the mask obscuring her face. “I think I've got it. I'll be sending the necessary papers tomorrow and the answer shouldn't take longer than a month.”

“Very good.” she nods, a miniscule curve to her lips.

Icy eyes then drop to the wine in the whiskey glass at the corner of the desk. You think she will make a comment about drinking at work, but instead she says;

“Pour me a glass, will you?”

You will your hands steady as you comply, then carefully slide her drink over.

Miranda takes her mask with claw-shrouded fingers... and soundnessly sets it on the wooden surface. Then she pushes the veil at her hair back, shaking long, platinum locks free.

You do a double take you hope she doesn't notice. Because what the actual fuck.

You didn't think her hair was that long, or that straight, or that it would fall over her shoulders like she's staring in a shampoo ad. You didn't think her lips were shaped like a cupid's bow or that her skin was this flawless and radiant.

The helplessly lesbian part of you could begrudgingly admit she was beautiful before... but now you arrive to the painful realization she's drop-dead gorgeous.

“So. I've heard you won cases others would describe as impossible.” she begins.

“Nothing's impossible. You just need to know where to look.” you reply. Law is your comfort zone and she is not that far above you here. “But how do you know that?”

“I have my sources.”

"Nobody truly leaves this village, huh.”

“Not without my consent, no. But I knew you'd come back.” At your slight frown, she elaborates, “You would never leave your mother behind.”

She's right. There was a whole world of opportunities waiting for you out there and yet... here you are.

“Good work, so far. You can take the next two days off. Your eyes could use the rest, Miss Warren.” Miranda speaks, finishing her wine.

“Sarah.” you say. 'Miss Warren' is for clients and she is your boss.

Miranda's lips give a slight quirk that may or may not be a trick of the light.

“I know.” she replies and exits the room, long hair billowing behind her back.

-

-

The taxes were only the first challenge. Now that the village is free of them, investors are flying in circles around it like vultures over meat.

In the meantime, Miranda comes to talk to you more frequently.

Lately, it seems she has more free time. You wish that was a good thing, but...

“So... are you like... going to stay here?” You ask after reading the same sentence five times to make sense of it, because her gaze on you is distracting as fuck.

“I'm not getting in the way of your work.” she says. You want to argue she is, but can't quite do that in a way that won't get you killed.

“I'm simply not used to working with company. Isn't this boring for you?”

“No, actually. I find it interesting, even though science is my field of expertise.” she answers. “And the way you take notes is… amusing.”

You try not to blush as you look down at your notebook, filled with different colored markers and post-it squares with tiny stick figures pointing to the more important paragraphs. You have been doing this for so long to sort out information you didn't even realize you were keeping it up in her presence.

“What is this supposed to be?” she asks with a small smile, the first of its kind you've seen.

To your horror, her clawed pointer aims at a particularly silly doodle, barely the size of a pencil's eraser.

“A... bird.” you grimace like you've been stabbed.

“Ah, of course.” Miranda holds back a chuckle but you can tell she's dying to make a comment.

Studying becomes hell for the rest of the time she's there with you, those sharp eyes picking apart every little move you make. At the same time, though, the hours you spend with her make you realize...

She's not a saint, though she may look like one. She's not completely a devil, either, even if she may act as one, at times.

She's human.

-

-

Miranda shares nothing about herself when you chat, but she seems to like it when you speak about your time abroad and all the things that left an impression on you there.

Your conversation over wine is cut short, however, when you receive a call from a number you learned means nothing but trouble, lately.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” you tell her.

The one calling you is none other than this month's rival lawyer, trying to dispute your claim over the land for his own boss. He's lost to you before, so it's also personal, but you are confident you have cornered them good with the latest papers you sent them...

And you are proven correct, when, a few seconds later, he is all faux polite on the other line, resorting to offering you money for you to withdraw your arguments.

Miranda comes to stand next to you, listening in to what he's saying.

The problem with that is, the second her arm brushes yours and you catch a whiff of her perfume –which always lingers in your office long after she's left— youare the one who stops listening to him.

Your attention flies to other things, like the inches she has on you, the exact color of her pale blonde hair, the little glint of victory in her stunning eyes.

Oh, no. God, no...

You know what this is, the feeling in the pit of your stomach. Alarm bells go off in the back of your head, as though your own mind is telling your body how foolish it's being.

There isn't a worse thing you can do to yourself than be attracted to Miranda.

-

-

Over time, familiarity with the prophetess brings higher levels of difficulty into your 'try to ignore your crush on her' game.

Miranda joins your side and leans over your shoulder, sometimes, to peer down at what you're doing. You don't move and don't breathe until she's within a safe distance again.

Then there are the wayward 'reward' touches, when you turn another investor away from the village. She may pat your back or leave her hand on your shoulder, or even scratch your nape with her claws as a job well done.

You hope your poker face hides the fact you feel her touch on you for far longer than you should, after she's gone.

Tonight, the situation is the toughest it's ever been for you.

There is a rainstorm going on outside; the waterdrops are tapping against the windows of your office as though they're trying to break it. Miranda has pulled her chair next to you so you can talk easier, without having to shout over the cacophony.

“And basically the judge's decision was that—”

You are interrupted by a blinding flash of lighting, during which your mind lets you know the stronghold is easily the tallest structure in it's vicinity—

When thunder cracks down the sky and strikes the building, you nearly scream. Your body tenses and you jump; but Miranda's hands come to your biceps and hold you steady, against herself and your desk.

Another flash comes before you really have time to think about your proximity. She covers your ears with her palms before the thunderclap can send you into overdrive again.

“You are with me and you're scared of a little thunder?” she teases when things quiet down and your heartbeat eases.

It's true; Miranda is the more terrifying force of nature. At the same time, however...

You feel oddly safe to be this close to her.

“Well... I'm not scared right now...” you quietly admit.

Her pointer comes underneath your chin and lifts it so you are looking straight into her hypnotic blue eyes. How is this color even real...

“And why is that?” Miranda asks, her wings coming around you both. They're curtains of black, cutting out some of the storm's sounds.

You want nothing more in this moment than to run your fingers through each individual feather.

You lick your lips. That's...not a question you can answer if you want the balance in your arrangement with her to remain.

Perhaps, though, the scales have tilted for you long ago. You just haven't been brave enough to admit it.

You have the courage to face it now when she leans down and covers your lips with hers, warm in a manner you never imagined she could be.

Her wings pull tighter around you and your mouths slide more firmly together. Lipbalm and creamy lipstick mix, tongues brush, tasting of wine. You are shaking so bad on the inside from how much you want this, more of this, the rumbling of the thunder be damned.

Miranda's palm cups your flaming cheek when she pulls back, perfectly composed and staring at you with a little smirk in place.

You dare to turn a little, lay a tiny kiss on the inside of her wrist, beyond her rings and accessories.

You aren't very fond of storms, but...

You willingly walk right into the eye of this one.

[alpacaparkaseok]

Relentless

I choose you.

→ Pairing: KTH x oc

→ warnings/tags/genre: SFW, soulmate au, angsty, fluff, mentions of a past abusive relationship

→ word count: 5.9k

→ a/n: made it! this is the bonus chapter of the original series “Lost & Found”, which I would recommend reading before you read this because it might not make a lot of sense otherwise. Please be aware that this jumps timelines a bit, so be aware of the headings before each section. 

I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you all for waiting so patiently!

--

“Hello, my name is Christina, and I…”

           “Take your time, Christina.”

           She takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes on the floor even as all eyes around the circle are on her. “I cut my thread because my soulmate…he wasn’t a good man.”

           Another deep breath.

           “And I think I may have ruined a lot of other people’s relationships.”

           Kim Taehyung, Kim Taehyung, Kim Taeh-

--

           It’s been eight months since Christina has seen Taehyung’s soulmate, after firmly ordering her to find someone else to cut her thread.

           “I’m not doing it,” Christina seethed. Angry, but for what? A real chance at love? Even as the thought crosses her mind, she scoffs. False hope is all that it is. “If you’re so set on ruining your life, go find someone else to help you.”

           Ae remains composed, almost terrifyingly so. She stands with her arms crossed, her back to the warehouse door. She looks around at the tools lying around, no doubt trying to figure out exactly how Christina manages to sever the thread.

           “Christina,” Ae mumbles softly, only making Christina want to scream even louder. “At least show me how-”

           “Get out.”

           “Listen for a second-”

           “Ae, I’m not kidding. Get out of my warehouse. I’m not showing you anything! Just- can’t you just give him a chance?”

           Ae blinks, arms falling to her sides as she laughs softly. “You think that’s what this is about? You couldn’t be more wrong.”

           “Enlighten me, then.”

           “I can’t do it, Christina. I can’t stand to live in his shadow for the rest of my life. That’s the only reason they were going to hire me! I didn’t-” Ae stops, rubbing her face angrily. “I didn’t even get to finish my interview. Once I was labeled as Taehyung’s soulmate, it’s like nothing even mattered anymore.”

           Christina doesn’t quite know what to say to that, but she knows who does. “Talk to Jolie about it, then. She can help you, she went through the same thing.”

           It should be an easy fix, right?

           “Jolie, like Jimin’s soulmate?”

           “I’ll call her right now, if you want. She knows better than anyone how to deal with this. Chung-hei, too.”

           Ae hesitates. “That’s Namjoon’s?”

           Christina arches a brow, about to say something snarky about labels, but deciding against it at the last moment. “Yeah. Just talk to them before you do anything drastic, ok?”

           Once Ae agrees, Christina is pulling her phone out and sending a message to her group chat with Sunmi, Jolie, and Chung-hei. She ignores the sharp pain that goes through her when she sees that the most recent text was from Jolie, teasing her about Taehyung.

Me: I’m sending a new friend over to Jolie’s apartment. It’s an emergency meeting. Can everyone make it?

                       Everyone responds quickly, agreeing to meet up. Sunmi offers to swing by Christina’s apartment to pick her up, which she agrees to.

           When Sunmi’s car pulls up, Christina gestures for Ae to head out.

           “Aren’t you coming with me?” Ae asks. When Christina shakes her head, Ae’s eyes widen. “But, I don’t know any of these people.”

           Christina smiles softly. “They’re going to be like family to you, don’t worry. Now, go. Tell Sunmi that I’ll catch up later.”

           Ae studies Christina’s eyes for a long moment, sensing her lie but heading for the door regardless. However, just before she heads out the door, she turns around to face the solemn girl.

           “You know, Christina…I know that it’s you.”

           Christina’s eyes widen, but she says nothing. Surely she’s mistaken; how would Ae know about her ties to Taehyung? Perhaps she revealed too much by sending her off to Jolie, she should’ve known how obvious that would be-

           “Yours was the first name out of his mouth today, not mine.”

           And with that, Ae strides out of Christina’s apartment, never looking back.

--

Eight Months Prior (the day Ae and Taehyung met)

Taehyung’s hands are shaking as he slams the door behind him and rushes to the sink, crashing into it. He pants at his reflection, bringing one of those shaking hands up to brush the hair from his eyes but freezes when he notices the red thread dangling from his left hand.

           “Hello, my name is Ae, and I’m interviewing for the camera director position.”

           Taehyung had been slouched in the corner all morning, playing on his phone and wondering why one earth Christina had practically begged him the night before to go to the interviews. However, when he heard that voice…

           “Wait,” he pokes his head up and looks toward the center of the room. His eyes met wide ones, the girl in question freezing in her place as Taehyung sat up to get a better view. “Do I know you?”

           “N-no,” Ae jumps a little, looking apprehensive and automatically sliding her left hand behind her back. It’s that movement that alerts Taehyung to the life-changing knowledge that his soulmate is a mere few feet away from him.

           The rest is a blur.

           People cheered – cheered – when they made the connection, some staff member giving Taehyung a hearty pat on the back that propelled him toward Ae. Something shouted something about giving the couple some space, while another made a remark about Ae obviously getting the job.

           “Her soulmate is Kim Taehyung,” they mumbled with a smile. “Of course she’s gonna get the job. How dreamy is that? Getting to work with your soulmate!”

           Taehyung was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice the way Ae flinched at the staff member’s comment. Instead, he stood there like a fool as Ae kept her eyes on the ground, fiddling with a loose thread on her sweater.

           It was only when the room fell eerily silent that Taehyung realized everyone had left, leaving him alone with his supposed soulmate.

           “I’m so sorry,” Ae began, daring a quick glance up at Taehyung. “I didn’t realize you’d be in here today, I would have rescheduled-“

           “Wait, what?” Taehyung frowns, his voice raspy. “You knew?”

           As his soulmate studies his expression, he hates how she sees right through him. This beautiful stranger already knows more about him than his most loyal friends do.

           Because Ae rises from her seat, crossing her arms and offering Taehyung a soft smile. A sad smile, that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

           “Don’t worry Taehyung,” she mumbles. “I’ll take care of everything.”

           His blood runs cold when he realizes what she means

           “Christina.”

           When he stumbles out of the room a few moments later, the only thing on his mind is talking to Christina. He nearly drops his phone in the effort, but he finally manages to get her contact information up.

           As he listens it ring, he wonders what exactly he wants from this phone call.

           To beg her forgiveness?

           Or to beg her to run away with him?

           In the end, she doesn’t answer. Four missed phone calls and six increasingly desperate texts later, Taehyung bursts into the nearest room he can find. And it’s now, standing in the bathroom on the main floor of the Hybe building, that Taehyung tries to call someone else.

           “Hello?”

           “Jiminie…”

           “Tae? What’s up?”

           “Jimin, I-” Taehyung closes his mouth, staring down at his red thread before speaking again. “I met her.”

           “You met…who?”

           Taehyung’s pretty sure he can hear Jolie in the background of the call, and it makes Taehyung’s heart clench. His mouth runs on with his thoughts, forgetting that Jimin has no idea what he’s talking about.

           “This can’t be happening,” he mumbles, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Why is this happening?”

           “Tae, where are you?”

           Taehyung can hardly hear him anymore, stuck staring at his reflection in the mirror and replaying the day over and over. Angry at himself for being so foolish, for the eternal track that his mind keeps running. No matter how he reads it, he always comes back to the same conclusion. The same question.

           “How could she do this to me?”

--

           When Taehyung left the room in a flurry of nerves and shock, Ae remained behind. Still in shock from the whole encounter, still wondering if she was supposed to finish up her interview.

           She wished that she would have snuck out before the staff started coming back in.

           “How are you feeling?” One staff in particular asked. She was a part of the board that was conducting interviews, her name was Lia. She appeared to be bouncing on the balls of her feet, staring at Ae as though she were an ancient artifact that had recently been uncovered. “Can you believe it?”

           Ae smiled softly, fighting the uneasy feeling in her gut. “Er…no. Not really.”

           At her words, the rest of the staff giggle and start chatting amongst themselves, throwing out the occasional question that Ae hardly has time to answer before another one comes. She finally clears her throat, glancing at Lia expectantly.

           “So, uh…” she shakes her head, trying to sound more professional. “Do we need to carry on with the interview now?”

           Everyone stares at her for a moment before Lia promptly bursts out laughing. “Oh, sweetheart,” she croons, reaching out and patting Ae’s head. “I mean, if you want to, we can finish it. But you know you’ve got the job, right?”

           At this news Ae perks up. “Wait, really? I didn’t know-”

           “Your soulmate is literally Kim Taehyung,” another staff member pipes up from the back. “How could you not?”

           As everyone shares knowing smiles, Ae remains frozen to her seat. “I- you mean…” she trails off, and Lia tilts her head quizzically. “Not to sound ungrateful, but…say Taehyung wasn’t my soulmate. Would I still get the job?”

           To Lia’s credit, she tries to look serious about considering the question. However, Ae sees all that she needs to see is that moment of hesitation. And when Lia opens to mouth to say, “Of course,” Ae slowly rises from her seat and excuses herself from the room.

           That was the beginning of the end.

Later that night

Someone is pounding on the door. With a heavy sigh and tear-swollen eyes, Christina pads her way up to her front room. She stares at the front door, flinching when the knocking resumes.

           “What?” She yells out, annoyance clear in her tone. The response on the other side of the door is muffled, but rings loud and clear through Christina’s ears.

           “Christina, I swear if you don’t open this door right now-”

           With her heart in her throat, Christina yanks the front door open, causing the annoying nuisance of a person to stumble inside, gasping. Once they gain their balance, Christina hurries to shut the door behind them, cursing under her breath at how freezing it is outside.

           Her visitor tries and fails to hide his shivers, and he pants and pushes his mop of hair back. Water drips from his clothes, pooling on the floor and seeping into the rug. However, Christina can’t find the words to properly reprimand him as he straightens up and levels her with a piercing stare.  

           “Now,” Taehyung breathes out, jaw clenched. “Care to explain all of this?” He desperately points to the red thread hanging from his left hand, a testament to his soulmate on the other side of it.

           “No. Not really.”

           Taehyung’s eyes flash at Christina’s off-hand attitude, something white-hot coursing through him as she goes to reach for the door. No doubt to kick him out.

           He won’t have it, though. In an instant he’s grabbed Christina’s shoulders, halting her in her movement and turning her about to face him completely. For some reason he’s panting again, and as Christina looks up at him through her lashes, he swallows heavily.  

           Hands falling to his sides, Taehyung clenches and unclenches his jaw. Christina remains silent before him, staring up at him as though daring him to speak. To say something stupid and making everything somehow worse than it already is.

           “Don’t-” the word gets caught in his throat, “don’t shut me out.” Taehyung closes his eyes, squeezes them shut for a long moment before opening them again and chancing a step forward. “Don’t leave me.”

           Christina knows she should step away, open the door, and kick Taehyung out into the rain again. Make him leave, make him call Ae. Send him over to Jolie’s apartment, where his soulmate is no doubt coming to see that cutting the thread isn’t the best choice.

           But she doesn’t move. Caught in those endless irises, holding her in her spot.

           And to think, just yesterday they were joking around. Comfortable. Happy.

           “I don’t want to hope.”

           The words tumble out of Christina’s mouth without her consent, however once she starts speaking, the words just won’t stop.

           “Please don’t do this to me, Tae. Taehyung. I can’t be the reason everyone’s lives fall apart. I already ruined my own life, isn’t that enough? You don’t want me-”

           “Why wouldn’t I want you?” He asks, deathly quiet.

           Christina can’t stand the way he’s looking at her. Like he’d gladly give it all up – give his soulmate up – just to spend a little longer here with her. So despite the horrible wrongness of her words, she spits them out anyway in an effort to wipe that look from his face.

           “You don’t want somebody’s leftovers, Taehyung.”

           Taehyung jolts as though someone slapped him, mouth dropping at her words. His eyes glance down at her severed thread, the same one she’d held up a mere week ago when they’d sat together on the balcony of his apartment.

           It had been with hushed tones that Christina finally told Taehyung her whole story. How she ran from her soulmate, desperate to find any way to cut her thread. And Taehyung had silently listened, holding her when it all became too much.

           Now, those hushed tones have dagger-like tendencies. Now Christina wields the truth against herself, trying to sabotage whatever this is between them before it’s too late.

           Taehyung doesn’t have it in him to inform her that it already is too late.

           It’s been too late for a while now. He’s in too deep.

           “Christina,” he breathes. His eyes are so dangerous, flashing with a moment’s anger as he thinks on what her words entail. “Do you really think that?”

           “It doesn’t matter what I think-”

           “Yes, it does!” Taehyung shouts now, and Christina realizes that she’s somehow managed to break down those walls. He was angry to begin with, so it didn’t take too much to stoke that flame again. “Of course it does, how can you even say that about yourself?”

           “Taehyung, I’ve already accepted that this is how it’s going to be. Can’t you just be happy?”

           “Be happy? Did you seriously just ask me to be happy?”

           “Yes! No go find your soulmate and be happy with her!”

           “NO!”

           Christina jumps as Taehyung’s voice echoes through her small apartment, hand jumping up to where her heart beats madly against her chest. Taehyung huffs in front of her, eyes wild as he struggles to explain.

           “How dare you throw this away?” Taehyung takes another step forward, boxing her in as her legs press against the back of her couch. “How dare pretend like I haven’t been happy this entire time, with you? Did that…weren’t you happy?”

           Yes.

           “Please leave.”

           Taehyung’s breathing falters, suddenly more labored as he blinks rapidly. It’s only later that Christina will realize that he was blinking away tears. Tears of frustration, sadness, she’s not sure.

           “Please,” she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut and dropping her head in her hands. “Please don’t make me the villain. Make it work, Tae. Just…try. For Ae.”

           If Christina lifted her head to look at Taehyung, she would have seen him furiously wiping away a stray tear, shaking his head.

           “But I don’t love Ae.”

           Christina curls in on herself even more, silently begging him to not finish that thought. I love you.

           Because he does. Or at least, he thinks he does.

           But Christina knows that she loves him. She has for months now. And this is the best way to love him.

           Give him the best shot she can at true love.

           “You will.”

           Christina swears she can feel Taehyung ghost a hand over her hair before thinking better of it. He stays for a while longer, breathing ragged and a million thoughts running through his mind.

           Christina doesn’t dare look at him, still hiding her head in her hands.

           “Christina…” Taehyung finally whispers. Even his quiet voice sounds too loud in her head. “Look at me. Please, look at me.”

           She does after a few shaky breaths, willing herself to shut down her emotions as she drags her eyes up to meet Taehyung’s.

           His eyes say everything, and it’s too much.

           I love you, she cries out in her mind, eyes shuttering.

           “Thank you, for making me feel wanted,” she says instead.

           “Stop speaking in past tense,” Taehyung warns. Christina scoffs quietly, dropping her eyes once more.

           “Go. Ae is at Jolie’s apartment still, I think. She needs to talk some things out with you.”

           “But Christina-”

           “Kim Taehyung, she’s your soulmate. I am not. Now quit complicating that and leave.”

           He does, no longer able to deny her wishes. As idiotic as he thinks they are.

           And he hates every step that carries him away.

Present Day (8 months later)

Groaning and yawning, Christina makes her way to the front room before promptly collapsing on the couch. She grabs the bag of goldfish she left earlier, popping a few in her mouth as she flips the TV on and begins flipping through the channels. She stops when she spots a familiar face.

           “Tonight we’re discussing what could be the beginning of a new trend regarding soulmates, what some are referring to as the Kim Rebellion. Of course, this is a nod to Kim Taehyung of BTS, as he and his soulmate mutually decided to go their separate ways seven months ago. We go now to Lee Heesun for more details. Heesun?”

           The screen switches to show a grim looking reporter standing outside of the Hybe building, a few people scurrying past him.

           “That’s right, the Kim Rebellion has reached new heights this week as just this morning Paik Ae had an exclusive interview with Dispatch, outlining her reasons for parting ways with her world-famous soulmate.”

           A clip of the interview pops up, showing a smiling Ae and the sight that threw the world into a tailspin after having just recovered from Jimin and Jolie’s drama.

           A severed red thread hangs from Ae’s left hand. She pays it no mind, kindly answering the questions thrown at her and maintaining an easy smile. Christina watches in awe as she speaks, wondering how she could be so brave.

           “Do you regret it?” The interviewer asks, and Ae looks as though she was prepared for the question.

           “I don’t regret walking away, just like how I could never regret getting to meet my soulmate.” She finally glances down at her thread, twisting the end around her fingers. “You know, this isn’t for everybody. However, Taehyung understood my need to distance myself from him. He casts a big shadow,” she chuckles knowingly. “I mean, I’m always going to be associated with him. That’s fine. But…I want people to know that it’s ok to create your own destiny.”

           And create it she has. In the span of the past eight months, Ae has done what Christina had always dreamed of.

           Opening up the door for multiple soulmates to step away from potentially or actually dangerous relationships. Opening up the conversation for those isolated from society for not quite fitting the soulmate mold.

           Normalizing severed threads, one day at a time.

Christina has even been able to make her business more known due to Ae’s efforts. No longer in fear of the stigma against people like her. Because after all, Kim Taehyung of BTS now sports a severed thread, of his and his soulmate’s own free will and choice.  

           So when seven months ago Ae and Taehyung went live to explain that they had no intentions of being together in any capacity, Christina chose to throw herself into her work. Diving in, being too busy to allow herself to wonder where that left her, exactly.

           Don’t make me the villain, she had pleaded all those months ago. Taehyung was smart, he knew that bringing Christina into the light so soon after parting with Ae would lead to people getting the wrong idea.

           Or was it the right one?

           Bzzzz!

           Christina’s train of thought is derailed as a text comes through, from Jolie.

           Jolie loml: hey do you need a ride to your meeting tonight? Sunmi said she could drive you if you wanted

                       Jumping up from the couch, Christina scrambles to grab her shoes. Checking the time, she realizes that she should be able to arrive in time for her meeting if she takes the bus.

           Me: nope, already left! Thanks though!

           Jolie loml: let me know how it goes!! Love youuu

           Me: ugh, so loving and supportive.

           Cracking a small grin at the thought of Jolie’s reaction to her text, Christina runs out the door and toward the bus stop. “This better be worth the humiliation,” she mumbles.

--

           “Hello, my name is Christina, and I…”

           “Take your time, Christina.”

           She takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes on the floor even as all eyes around the circle are on her. “I cut my thread because my soulmate…he wasn’t a good man.”

           Another deep breath.

           “And I think I may have ruined a lot of other people’s relationships.”

           Kim Taehyung, Kim Taehyung, Kim Taeh-

           “Welcome, Christina. Can we all say hello to our new friend?”

           An array of different voices pipe up, some shy and others more confident. “Hello, Christina.”

           “Hi,” she whispers to the ground.

           “Now,” the facilitator begins with a gentle smile. “What makes you think that you’ve ruined other people’s relationships?”

           Christina chews on her bottom lip for a moment before venturing an answer. “Because I work as a Severer.”

           The silence carries on for a touch too long, and Christina glances up to see a couple of the people around the circle looking at her with wide eyes. There’s one girl in particular that glares outright at her, and Christina notes the cut thread that she sports on her left hand.

           No doubt she’s blaming Christina for her current predicament.

           “Ok,” the facilitator – what’s her name? If she squints, Christina can just see the beginnings of her name tag. Mrs. G? Mrs. G regains her gentle smile, urging Christina to go on. “You’re not the first Severer to join our group. Josh was one, remember?” There’s a few scattered nods. A couple of people even go so far as to smile fondly at the mention of Josh, giving Christina reason to hope that they might not all hate her for her occupation.

           “And what happened to Josh?”

           “Oh, well he moved a couple of months ago. He’s actually getting married, his invitation is on the fridge. You’ll have to look at it before you leave.”

           Christina’s eyes widen at this. “He’s getting…he’s getting married? People like us can do that?”

           Mrs. G laughs at Christina’s incredulous tone, but reassures her instantly. “Of course, Christina. We all deserve our own happiness, don’t we? Now be honest, have you had any mal-intent in your line of work?”

           “Well, no…”

           “Exactly. So, ‘people like you’, as you stated, deserve just as much happiness as the rest of us.” Mrs. G pauses, waiting to see if the words settle into Christina’s heart before continuing. “Happiness isn’t something pre-determined. You find it. You make it.”

           The meeting continues, other people sharing their stories and their progress. Christina listens intently, interested to see a couple of other people that had cut their own thread. One boy in particular piques her interest.

           “I’m a part of the Kim Rebellion,” he explains. “Paik Ae really inspired me, you know? Not a lot of people would turn away from someone like Kim Taehyung, but she really seems happy. I had been with my soulmate for two years, but I was never…I don’t know, I never quite felt like I belonged. Turns out, when I brought it up with them, they felt the same way. So we decided to take the leap, go thread-less.”

           “And how has your journey been so far?” Mrs. G asks, sporting a grin.

           “Amazing,” the boy breathes, with stars in his eyes. “I’ve never felt so free before.”

           Before she knows it, the meeting is concluding and people begin to stack their chairs. Christina stands up to follow suit, but Mrs. G stops her with a hand on her arm.

           “I’ll take care of it, darling. It looks like you have a visitor waiting for you.”

           Turning, Christina cranes her neck to see a familiar mop of black hair just outside the rectangular window of the door, quickly followed by a pair of curious eyes that widen as they notice Christina’s attention.

           “I- excuse me,” Christina stammers out, scurrying over to the door. The moment she opens it, Taehyung jumps back, looking a little sheepish at having been caught.

           “What-” Christina can’t quite get the words out, just shocked to even see this man at all. It’s been…how long has it been? “What are you doing here?”

           Taehyung doesn’t say anything, he’s caught up in that thing he does. Where he goes inside his thoughts, forgetting to respond. Christina sighs, rubbing her face and brushing past him.

           This snaps him out of it, and soon enough Taehyung is jogging to catch up to Christina, jumping in front of her.

           He doesn’t touch her. No, he feels like he shouldn’t just assume that he could ever touch her, let alone now.

           “How did you know…?” Christina finally asks before he can say anything.

           “Jolie.”

           Ah, of course. The recovery group was her idea, actually. To be honest, Christina had vowed to never go back to another recovery group after she went to the one right after she fled her soulmate.

           But here she is. Back again.

           She’s not sure who to blame, anymore. The man in front of her, his soulmate…herself.

           “Christina.”

           “Hmm?”

           Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, looking nervous. “Could we maybe…can I give you a ride home?”

           Christina doesn’t immediately respond, too stunned as her focus remains on the hand that Taehyung just ruffled his hair with.

           Focused on the cut thread, to be more exact.

           Sure, she’s seen photos and videos of him with it, even seen him from a distance, but up close…it’s so much more real. So final.

           “Christina?”

           “Oh. Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”

           Taehyung blinks, clearly not expecting it to be so easy. However, he leads her out of the building without another word, opening up the passenger side door with a nervous smile.

           Christina settles down in the seat with a blank expression, half wondering if this is even real. However, as Taehyung closes the door and she’s met with just how much everything in here is him. The smell alone is enough to have her inhaling deeply, bombarding her sense with the very thing she’s been trying to run from for months now.

           Taehyung hops in the driver’s side, and Christina politely ignores the way his hands shake as he tries to start the car. The silence is heavy as they pull out of the parking lot, and Christina stares out the window as they drive.

           In the reflection of the passenger-side window, she can see Taehyung glancing over at her every so often. Finally, after the tenth time, he speaks.

           “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever, feels like.”

           “Yeah, how long has it been?”

           Taehyung doesn’t skip a beat. “Namjoon’s birthday party. Although you were leaving right as I was arriving, remember?”

           “Oh. Right.”

           Again the silence. It’s suffocating, making Christina want to scream.

           “So…” she mumbles out, staring straight ahead. “How have you been?”

           “Oh, good. Been…good.”

           Perhaps it’s the fact that she has nothing left to lose, but Christina finds herself sliding into her teasing persona at his response.

           “Wow, so eloquent.”

           Taehyung blinks before smirking, easing into the conversation as well. “I’ve always had a way with words, don’t you think?”

           “I couldn’t disagree more.”

           The sound of his chuckle fills the small space, and it lodges in Christina’s heart. It becomes a struggle to keep her eyes forward, a part of her begging her to just get lost in this moment.

           Because what if it’s their last?

           And yet…

           What if it’s the first?

           All too soon, they’re parking in front of her apartment, and Christina offers him a small smile of thanks before opening her door. She yelps in surprise when Taehyung reaches across her torso and closes her door.

           “What was that for?” She asks, offended. Turning to Taehyung, she can’t help but feel a little intimidated as he regards her solemnly.

           He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to face her fully, one arm resting on the wheel while the other rests on the console.

           He looks so honest, in this moment. Hair a mess, a small stain on his trademark Celine shirt. Christina notices it with a start, recalling the fact that he’s wearing that very shirt in the photo she keep atop her dresser.

           It’s still there. After all these months.

           “Hey,” Taehyung whispers. Christina’s eyes snap up to his face instead of the stain on his shirt. His tongue wets his lips before he speaks again, continuing to whisper. “I’m happy right now. Are you?”

           That red thread whips and twists from the A/C, and Christina takes a moment to look at her own.

           “How did you do it?”

           Taehyung understands her question, following her line of sight. He sighs softly, recalling the day he and Ae took matters into their own hands and singlehandedly started their own rebellion.

           “Some guy in Daegu. Josh, was his name.”

           Christina’s head snaps up. “Josh? He’s getting married!”

           “O-oh, ok,” Taehyung stammers out, chuckling a little. “Good for him.”

           “Sorry.”

           “You’re fine. I’m happy for Josh.”

           “Yeah. Me too.”

           Another pause. This one isn’t as uncomfortable as the previous ones, though.

           “Christina? You never answered my question.”

           Are you happy right now? Here, with me?

           “Yeah, but-”

           “No buts.”

           Christina groans, leaning back in her seat. “Taehyung, you can’t just drive me home and start going on about happiness and end up with us being together. You know that, right?”

           Taehyung chews on his bottom lip with almost religious fervor. “…I know.”

           “Maybe I should go.”

           “Wait!” Taehyung reaches out again, ready to block Christina’s exit. “I had this whole speech I needed to say to you and- and- quit looking at me like that, otherwise I’m gonna forget it!”

           Christina laughs, holding her hands up innocently. “Sorry, sorry! Let’s hear it!”

           Taehyung sighs, closing his eyes.

           “You’re my choice.”

           After a few moments of silence, Christina frowns. “That’s it?”

           Taehyung’s eyes fly open, a curl curling the corners of his lips. “No! Hold on, let me explain.” Once he sees Christina waiting patiently, he continues. “You and I…we’ve never been given a real choice before. Our decisions were made up, with our soulmates. But you…you broke away from that. Created your own path. You inspired me, still do inspire me, every day. To make my own path.”

           Christina holds her breath, not daring to say anything.

           “Any while your circumstances were much worse than mine, and I’m grateful every day that you were able to escape that sorry excuse for a man, I know this is for certain: we’ve forged our own paths, and for the first time, we’ve been given a choice. I choose you. I chose you months ago, Christina.”

           Taehyung’s hand wraps around the steering wheel until his knuckles are white. “Please, tell me you choose me, too.”

           Christina wonders for the hundredth time if this is all real.

           For the first time in her life, is she really able to choose love? If Taehyung’s hopeful gaze is any indication, she must be.

           “Is this ok?” She whispers.

           “Is what ok, darling?”

           The pet name goes straight into her bloodstream, making her feel lightheaded. “Is it ok to get you?”

           Taehyung smiles broadly at her question, slowly reaching out and brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear.

           “Of course it is. You’ve got me, either way.” He sighs. “As much as I’ve been furious with you over the past eight months-”

           “What do you mean, furious?”

           “You led me into a trap to meet my soulmate!” Taehyung exclaims, looking at Christina fondly. “And then avoided me for like eight months after that!”

           “Ok, at least give me credit for being a good person-”

           “Oh, you’re a saint,” Taehyung groans out, finally throwing his door open and rushing around the car to the passenger side. Once he opens that door as well, he crouches down to be eye-level with a wide-eyed Christina. “You’re a certified saint, happy?”

           Despite the sarcasm dripping from his tone, Christina senses the real question behind it. Slowly, she reaches out to touch the stain on his shirt, making a blush rise to Taehyung’s cheeks.

           “Yes.” She gives him a shaky smile. “Extremely.”

           Taehyung’s smile only grows as he takes the hand that rests against his shirt, raising his up to place gentle kisses along the tips of her fingers. Christina’s breath catches at the sight, Taehyung’s dark eyes fluttering closed.

           “Let me walk you to your door,” he mumbles.

           Christina complies, thrilling in the feel of his hand in hers as they walk to the door. Once there, she chews on the inside of her cheek. “Want to come in?”

           Taehyung gasps, and Christina throws a hand over his mouth at his over the top reaction.

           “Not like that, you pervert! We just have a lot to talk about still!”            Taehyung grabs her wrist, pulling her hand away. “And you just don’t want me to leave yet, right?”

           “Oh, shut up.”

           Once they head inside, Christina heads straight for the kitchen while Taehyung takes a seat on the stool. Filling up a glass of cool apple cider, Christina passes it to him before leaning back against the counter and drinking in the view.

           “You know,” she starts, taking a swig of the sweet drink before continuing. “I’ve had a lot of people sit there. Drink cider, talk about their problems.”

           “Oh really?”

           “Yeah, like Jolie. And Ae.”

           “Now me.”

           “Now you.” Christina sighs, setting her glass down. “You want the truth?”

           Taehyung looks intrigued, also setting his glass down. “Always.”

           “I’ve been waiting for you to sit there.” She’s surprised when her vision blurs with tears, not expecting to be so emotional about it. “I didn’t think you ever would, though.”

           In an instant, Taehyung is on his feet and wrapping her into a tight embrace. As she breathes him in, Christina wonders if this is what Jolie meant when she described how Jimin felt like home.

           “I’ll be sitting there until my butt falls off.”

           Chest shaking with laughter at his own comment, Christina groans but doesn’t try to move away. Instead she wraps her arms around his middle, holding him even tighter.

           “Gross, but thank you.”

           Lips pressing a gentle kiss atop her head, Christina can feel Taehyung smile against her hair. “Anything for you, darling.”

--

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[rufousnmacska]

Only You

A manorian arranged marriage fic from an anon request -

Do you think you could write an angsty manorian drabble where political/royal pressures and such has Dorian marry someone else + Dorian being mortal has Manon encouraging him? just all that manorian heartbreak+pining. also really love your fics!

This turned into much more than a drabble, but I hope everyone enjoys it! 🤗

Many thanks to @itach-i for beta reading and helping plot things out! ❤️

*

PART ONE

*

Dorian hadn’t noticed the cold until his valet wrapped a furred robe around him. How long had he been standing out here? The sun had just broken from the horizon and his breath was pooling in front of him with each exhale. The valet, a gray-haired man named Ruben, disappeared back into the royal suite, muttering something about the foolishness of young men. Dorian smiled grimly, knowing he was indeed foolish. Worse. He was a godsdamned idiot. And he felt numb, as though his body was somewhere far from here, his mind with it. None of it was due to the winter chill. Staring off towards the hills west of Rifthold, his eyes glanced over the many red and gold banners attached to the city’s roofs, snapping in the wind. Part of him loved seeing his people so excited, so proud for the coming celebration. They’d suffered greatly during the war and had worked hard in the rebuilding effort of the last two years. But that small joy for his kingdom was overshadowed by his own despair. How many times had he stood in this spot, watching and waiting and holding his breath until he caught sight of those silvery wings and moon white hair dancing in the sky? He’d known today would be his last chance to watch for her. And since sleep was a fool’s hope, he’d come out to his balcony and stood here for hours, his gaze on the west, wondering where it had all gone wrong.

***

The rising sun shone brightly off the tops of the castle towers, giving the small group of witches their first real view of Rifthold in the distance. In the past, this sight would leave Manon breathless with anticipation, pushing Abraxos to speed up in her excitement. There had been times when her giddy desperation to reach the castle was almost humiliating, forcing her to contain her emotions before she landed. But no matter her control in those moments, Dorian would greet her on his balcony with a ferocious embrace, seeing right through her mask. He always had. Now, Manon wished that truth away, pushing it deep down, along with the nausea roiling in her gut. As they drew nearer to Rifthold, she could just barely make out the decorations hanging from the castle. It almost brought up the meager breakfast she’d eaten not long ago. With the brightening sky, she realized the entire city was decked out, covered in colorful banners and garlands. Of course, a royal wedding demanded finery. She had expected it, guarded herself against it. But her expectations were dealt a swift blow by the reality now facing her. Manon was on her way to Dorian’s wedding. Not as the bride, but as a royal guest. And she had no one but herself to blame.

*****

Six months earlier…

Manon frowned as Abraxos landed on an unusually empty balcony. Though she’d never asked for it, the space had been rebuilt to provide a large enough area to comfortably hold a wyvern. Wrapping halfway around the king’s tower, the balcony offered magnificent views of the ocean to the east and the mountains to the west. As she dismounted, Manon realized that vast western view was what gave Dorian the ability to know she was almost there. Normally, she wouldn’t notice the view because he would be there, scooping her up and taking her inside to say hello in her favorite ways. But tonight, she and Abraxos were alone.

Quietly, so as not to startle Ruben, Manon stepped through the doorway. She needn’t have bothered. The bedroom was as empty as the outside and she heard no sounds coming through the door to the other rooms. Wondering if he hadn’t received her last message telling him when to expect her, Manon sat on a sofa to wait. She lasted less than five minutes before pacing around the room, then finally deciding to go in search of Dorian.

The office was empty and as she continued through to the exterior door, Manon rolled her eyes at the messy desk. How Dorian managed to keep everything straight in the piles and stacks of papers was beyond her. She wasn’t in the corridor long before she heard angry voices echoing up the stairway. Chaol and Dorian had stopped part way up the tower.

“You can’t afford to just dismiss this threat of rebellion. Lord Frey is an ass, but he has the ear of too many other nobles to be ignored.” Chaol sounded winded. Manon didn’t think he came up here very often since his mobility was tied to his wife’s magic. That he was here now to continue this conversation was significant.

“I refuse to give into his demands,” Dorian growled. “He complains about me leaving the kingdom to Erawan, and yet he brags about how he profited from the war. Whatever gold he has in his coffers did not come from me.”

Manon inched back to the door on silent feet. She knew Dorian’s lords were causing trouble, but he’d refused to go into detail about it with her. The thought of anyone claiming Dorian had willfully abandoned Adarlan to Erawan made her blood boil. The valg king and his armies had left a path of scorched earth and devastation on his march to Terrasen. And Dorian had spent the last two years of his life dedicated to rebuilding his kingdom.

Chaol sighed. “Yes, but what he’s proposed in exchange—”

“What he’s proposed will not be considered,” Dorian interrupted. It was a voice Manon had never heard from him.

After a long pause, Chaol continued. “I know how you feel, Dorian. But we need to put emotions aside and think this through. I’m not saying we go along with it. But right now, we have to look at every option.”

“You say ‘we’ as if you would be the one marrying his daughter.”

Manon gasped, covering her mouth to remain quiet.

“It would be a political alliance,” Chaol reasoned. “You wouldn’t have to end things with—”

Again, Dorian refused to let him finish. “Stop. I’ve told you my decision. We will find some other way to placate the rebellious lords. I am not marrying her.”

Soft footsteps punctuated by the clack of a cane sounded as Chaol left his king and descended the tower. When he was gone, she heard Dorian smash his fist into the stone wall, pieces of mortar crumbling and raining down onto the floor. Manon was paralyzed, her hands balled up into tight fists, eyes wide. And that was how Dorian found her when he took the final steps up to his suite.

***

“You misunderstood. Frey doesn’t have enough clout to demand such a thing.” Dorian was frantic, spending the last two hours trying to explain away what Manon had heard. But her face had frozen into a mask, nothing he said could tease out even the slightest reaction.

“You can’t be so flippant,” she said, the stony resolve in her voice starting to scare him. “He’s offered you an out from civil war. If you care about your kingdom, you must do it.”

He was going mad. First Chaol, now Manon. Where was Yrene to talk some sense into them? He cared about his kingdom and his people. He cared so much that he had no life whatsoever beyond the endless meetings and negotiations and squabbles. His sole joy in life was standing before him now arguing that he should marry someone else.

“If I care?” he asked. “I was prepared to die for it. On many occasions. I would gladly give my life. But I won’t give my heart.”

Manon blinked slowly, and he realized she was looking past him. “You once told me you were prepared to give up your throne for Sorscha. Then the war taught you how foolish, how childish that was. And now, as if you learned nothing, sacrificed nothing, you want to do the same thing. Your life and your heart are one in the same.” Finally, her golden eyes met his. “I am immortal. You are not. You need a human queen to give you heirs and unite your kingdom. I will not play a part in disrupting that.”

Dorian searched for any sign - an unshed tear, a twitch of her lips, a clenched jaw. But there was nothing. Nothing on her face except a cold certainty that left him feeling lost, alone. He knew this was an act, a means of protecting herself. And yet, she was right. When they’d parted ways in Orynth after the war, he’d ignored the desire to ask her for some sort of commitment beyond “We’ll see.” They both had countries to rebuild and had chosen that greater responsibility over personal wishes. Dorian told himself then that they had time. Yes, he was a mortal. But he still had a plentiful well of raw magic on which to draw upon, magic that would give him a much longer life than a normal human. And only two short years later, out of nowhere, everything was falling apart.

No, he would not let his people suffer through war again. But giving in to extortion was not an acceptable alternative. He thought of Aelin, wondering how she would handle a situation like this. With the way her people adored her, he knew she’d never reach this point. Maybe Frey and his allies were right. Maybe he’d left them to fend for themselves out of cowardice instead of prudence. Suddenly, Dorian was exhausted, tired of being king, tired of giving up everything he wanted. He rubbed his eyes until they were red

“You know it has to be this way,” she said, having watched him sort out his thoughts. “No matter what they claim, you’ve never once abandoned this kingdom. Which is why you won’t do it now.”

Dorian stared at the ground, grasping for a way out, but his mind felt like aspic, soft and muddled and useless. “I won’t be a king who takes a queen and still keeps a lover.” The ultimatum was hard to voice, but it was true. Despite his rakish history, he’d never taken a new lover without breaking things off with the old one. If ever an exception was to be made, it would be with Manon. But he would never disrespect her, a queen in her own right, by reducing her to a secret paramour and source of castle gossip.

Still stoic, she replied, “I would not expect you to.”

They had always pushed and teased each other, seeing which one would break first and admit their feelings or give in to the desire. Desperately hoping that they were playing that game now, he surrendered. “I want you, Manon. No one else.”

The slightest hitch in her breathing and a tiny flutter of her eyes sent his hope soaring. But, with a firm tone that meant she would say no more, Manon said, “Marry her, Dorian. Save your throne and keep your people from more bloodshed.”

Before he could respond, she walked out the door and climbed into the saddle still strapped to her wyvern. Manon was in the air without a look back, and Dorian sank to the ground, his head in his hands.

*****

Rumors were flying through the witch city faster than the most agile wyverns. Mere months ago, the witches had expected an announcement from their queen, happy news that their kingdom would be united with Adarlan. Some were not in favor of their queen marrying a human, king or not. Others, especially those in the queen’s council, saw it as a good match. A love match, they claimed. But now, after the royal messenger from Adarlan had arrived, the gossip was spinning out of control.

Manon stared at the thick envelope sealed with red and gold wax, the wyvern stamped into it watching her with a single mocking eye. Dorian had once laughed about how significant it was for his royal crest to include a wyvern, a connection forged between their two kingdoms before they had even met. She’d brushed the thought away at the time, rolling her eyes at his insistence that fate was at work. But now, the memory of his teasing voice sank into her chest, adding to the heaviness and pain that had been choking her since she’d left him on that balcony months ago.

“You don’t have to go. No one would fault you for it. We can send Petrah as a representative,” Glennis said, her voice stiff and formal. It was a tone usually relegated for council meetings, not a conversation with her granddaughter.

She was silent for a long moment, still looking at the envelope. Instead of answering, Manon picked it up and ripped apart the seal. The invitation was written in fanciful blue ink with a border of red berries and ivy stamped into the parchment. She frowned at the flowery words that matched the design, knowing the girl must have been behind all of it. The girl. Manon knew she was likely close to Dorian’s age, but she didn’t care. The future queen of Adarlan would forever be the girl in her mind. Even so, it was impossible to miss her name in elegant calligraphy.

Your presence is requested at the royal wedding of Lady Eveline Frey and His Majesty Dorian Havilliard II, King of Adarlan

Manon stopped reading at his name and continued to flip through the remaining pages. They contained notices of the pre-wedding events that the ‘happy couple’ hoped people would attend, despite the possibility of poor weather at that time of year.

Happy. Her eyes caught on that word and didn’t move. She knew it was a lie. And yet, her old doubts and fears flooded back into her mind. She was still heartless despite her efforts to change, he deserved someone who could sufficiently return his affections. She was immortal, he was not. Manon had reasoned that she would rather lose him like this than watch up close as he aged and died. Rather lose him now, when they could both move on to full lives, than be forced to somehow carry on after his death. A magically extended life or not, she could see no other scenario if she continued with him. And if that was truly how she felt, then she wanted to be there and show him they were both better off this way.

Glennis watched her, likely reading every thought that had gone through her head. For when Manon said she was going, her grandmother’s head dipped in resignation. “Then I will accompany you.”

Manon lost count of her attempts at crafting a reply. She began with a simple list of witches who would attend with her, which morphed into a long drawn out explanation of why she wanted to be there. Then she backtracked into a brief, two sentence response. And even then, she had to make several copies until one was legible. The anguish of what she faced kept showing itself in her shaking hand.

Her eyes keep going back to their names and she found herself wondering what the girl was like. Did she like to read? Could she fight with a sword? Would she stand up to the nobility who claimed Dorian was not worthy of his throne? How would she react to him waking up screaming in the middle of the night from a nightmare in which he’d been torturing people?

That last thought made her feel sick. Not because of the dreams that still plagued him - she was well versed in helping to comfort him, just as he knew how to ease her grief and fear after a nightmare. It was the idea that they’d be sharing a bed that turned her stomach.

Gods what was she thinking? There were two months until the wedding. Was that long enough to forget everything Dorian was to her?

Manon knew the answer. And yet, when she read over their names again, she made herself remember why things had to be this way. Adarlan could not survive another war, especially one which tore it apart from the inside out. This was for the best. His and hers. This wedding would be closure, and afterwards, she could move on, search for a suitable consort. Not to become her king. She could not bear seeing anyone else beside her in that capacity. But finding an acceptable male to produce an heir would help to stabilize her kingdom. If Dorian was forced to set aside his heart to help his people, then she would do the same.

When she gave the reply to Glennis later, her grandmother frowned. “I find myself not wanting to send this.”

“It will be us and two sentinels. That’s all,” Manon said, ignoring the witch’s reluctance. “We will arrive the day before and leave immediately after the ceremony.” As Glennis nodded in agreement, Manon noticed she held a royal envelope in her other hand. “What is that?”

Again, that frown. “It’s from Prince Fennick Whitethorn of Doranelle. A cousin of Rowan’s I believe.”

“Was he in Orynth?” She didn’t recall him being there, but her memories from those early days battling Erawan’s army were foggy.

“I don’t think he was.”

Manon took it, examining front and back. The wax seal matched that of Queen Sellene Whitethorn. “What could this be?” she wondered aloud.

Glennis was already walking away, but she turned and said sharply, “I can only imagine.”

Manon was glad she waited until she was alone to read it, for by the end of it, she was sitting motionless, the letter forgotten on the floor.

Prince Fennick Whitethorn, a cousin to both Rowan and Queen Sellene, had written to express his regards and dismay at the news that the King of Adarlan would marry a noble from his own kingdom. He’d felt compelled to write her directly, offering her his support and friendship since he’d experienced something similar a few hundred years before. As Doranelle’s representative at the festivities, he hoped they could meet in Rifthold. In not so veiled terms, he suggested they might establish an alliance of their own, one that would be amenable to both their countries.

Mere hours after speculating about taking a consort and here she was, staring at a proposal. She couldn’t decide between outrage or amazement at the audacity of the fae male. It had certainly taken balls to approach her this way. And at this time. Picking up the letter, she read it over again. From the sounds of it, Fennick had been left heartbroken in his past. A past that extended even further back than her own. Had she not used her own immortality as a reason that Dorian should wed another? Here was an immortal throwing himself at her, eager for alliance. But she wondered if his interest would wane when he was told that at best, he might become her consort. There was only one man who she’d accept as her king, and he was now outside her reach.

She decided not to send a reply. If the fae prince was there, she would meet with him, see what kind of male he was and whether he might bring anything of worth to an alliance. If not, it would be one less thing to worry about.

That night, as she tried and failed to fall asleep, Manon found herself imagining how she might say goodbye to Dorian. They never used the word, choosing instead to focus only on their hellos. It made a twisted sort of sense that this goodbye, this parting that would be permanent, would be the first and last time it was spoken between them.

***

Yrene found Dorian in his office, watching the brutal winter winds send snow whipping through the air outside his window. Judging from her expression, she knew why he’d sent for her. When her eyes went to the letter on his desk, her shoulders seemed to slump, and she sat down heavily across from him.

“She will be attending,” he said, pushing the short reply across the desk in case she wanted to read it. After immediately recognizing the handwriting as Manon’s, he’d stared at it for a long time. As if there might be some sign of hesitation on her part, he’d examined the note, his eyes running over each stroke of ink, again and again. It was flawless. Just like her, he’d thought miserably.

“I didn’t think she’d actually come. It was meant as a formality between two allies.”

“Perhaps that’s why she has agreed. Formality, nothing more,” Yrene offered.

“How do you think Eveline will handle it?” Despite a wedding date only a few weeks away, Dorian barely spoke to his future queen. Yrene had been acting as a go between, keeping Dorian from having to feign pleasantries and interest in someone who he’d claimed looked and acted like an empty doll.

“She has been trained as a courtier since birth. I’m sure she will be as polite and ladylike as she always is.” Yrene rose and came around the desk, standing in front of the window to make Dorian look at her. “She may appear timid and vapid in front of her father, but she is no fool. She knows what this arrangement is and why it’s happening. Your involvement with Manon was never much of a secret. Eveline knows she is not your choice. But like you, she is doing her duty.”

Dorian didn’t reply. He knew his opinion of her was misguided, that it was based on anger at the situation, at her father. Which was why he kept his distance. If he couldn’t keep himself in check in private or with his friends, how could he expect to refrain from unleashing his rage on her with hurtful words? At least, that’s what he told himself. It was true, but some part of him knew that if he gave in and spent time with her, it would make this all the more real.

Yrene’s eyes darkened as she said, “Lord Frey has a reputation to match Chaol’s father. With her mother gone, I suspect Eveline has not had much control over her life. This would be nothing new to her.”

Now fully ashamed of himself, Dorian only nodded. If there was anything he could understand, it was not being able to defy a bullying parent. A new sense of sympathy filled him as he wondered how desperate Eveline must be for a new life. Freedom from an abusive father would be worth the heavy responsibilities and loss of privacy that came with being a queen. Maybe it was time to make an effort. He couldn’t envision a future where he would ever develop actual feelings for Eveline. But he could at least become her friend.

“What else have you learned about her?” he asked.

Yrene shrugged. “Her education has been extensive, and she knows much about the court and how it runs. She enjoys art and music, embroidery …” She trailed off, trying to think of any other attributes worth sharing. “Horse riding. She always seems to be coming back from the stables when I see her. I’ve gotten the impression her father does not approve of that hobby, but she maintains that being a good horsewoman befits a true lady.”

“So, she does disobey him then …” Dorian smiled slightly, recalling how he used to rebel against his parents. Horse riding was much less scandalous. “Does she need any help with the wedding plans?”

The suddenness of his change in tone had Yrene blinking at him. “I don’t believe so. But I can ask her.”

Dorian stood and walked towards the door. He knew if he didn’t start now, he never would. “I will go ask. I’d like to recommend some music.”

“Wait,” Yrene cried, trailing him out into the corridor. When she caught up to him, she asked, “What are you doing?”

The fear in her eyes almost made Dorian turn around and forget his pledge of moments ago to try and accept this. Yrene had always been the biggest supporter of his relationship with Manon. Whether she was helping them arrange a short, secret escape from their duties, or using her sharp tongue to tear down any detractors of the Witch Kingdom, or giving him advice on how to help Manon recover from the loss of her coven … Yrene had always been there. And now, for the first time, it seemed to be sinking in for her that what she had dreamed for her friends – a happily ever after to rival what she had with Chaol – was impossible. It pained Dorian to see it and he pulled her into a hug.

“If there was another way, Yrene, I’d do it. You know that.”

She hugged him back fiercely, her voice shaking as she said, “I know. She is my friend too, Dorian. And I don’t want to lose her.”

Gods, Dorian thought his heart couldn’t break anymore. And here it was, cracking into even more fragments, each time becoming smaller and smaller. “I know.”

Yrene backed away and let loose a string of curses and insults about Lord Frey that left his eyes wide and mouth agape. He’d never heard her speak like that before, had never thought her capable of such filthy language.

Before she could think to apologize, he laughed. “Well said, Lady!”

Red with embarrassment, Yrene burst into laughter too. When they’d both regained their composure, she said, “Come. I’ll walk with you to Eveline’s rooms and catch you up on her wedding plans.”

“Thank you,” he said, and meant it. “She is as much a pawn in this game as anyone, and she doesn’t deserve my animosity.”

Yrene nodded. “As much as I hate to admit it, she’s a perfectly lovely young woman. It makes things worse in a way.”

When they reached her rooms, Yrene led him inside.

“Your Majesty,” Eveline said brightly. Her dark hair matched her eyes and she gave him a beaming smile. “I was not expecting you today.” She was going through a stack of replies to the invitations.

“Please, call me Dorian. I insist,” he said. “I have one more to add.” Slowly, as if not wanting to give it up, he handed her Manon’s reply. He and Yrene both watched her carefully as she read it.

With the same smile as before, Eveline said, “I’m so pleased the Witch Queen will be attending. None of your other royal friends are able to come due to the weather. Though Doranelle is sending someone.” She paused, thinking. “I can’t remember his name.”

As the two women went through the replies and spoke quietly, Dorian pretended to listen. For one terrible moment, he wondered what the word princeling might sound like from Eveline’s mouth. The thought felt blasphemous, leaving him spinning and trapped between two worlds: the reality sitting next to him, this perfectly lovely woman for whom he felt nothing, and a dream world where he’d wake up happy each morning to snow white hair and golden eyes. A dream that had slipped through his fingers, like the wind gusting wildly outside.

Perfectly lovely. Eveline was lovely, and perfect, with exquisite manners, an impeccable wardrobe, and a distinguished education. But despite that loveliness and perfection, he knew without a doubt that his feelings towards Eveline would never come close to what he felt for Manon. Manon was his mirror, his equal. If beings other than fae were able to have true mates, she would be his.

The thought struck him like a dagger, straight to whatever bits of his heart yet remained. Shaking his head, Dorian tried not to think of Manon, of how this next visit for the wedding would likely be her last. Tried not to dwell on how he would have to live the rest of his life without her, his mate in every way that counted.

Of course, he failed. And when Eveline asked him about what music he’d prefer, Dorian used every ounce of strength he had left to force a smile on his face and answer.

To be continued...

***

Thanks for reading! You can find my writing master list here or on AO3.

It’s been a while since I’ve written and I’m not sure who all is still out there. So if I missed you, or you’d like to be tagged/removed for parts two and three, let me know.

@itach-i @bookishwitchling @manontrashbeak @awesomelena555 @jimetg98 @over300books

[midgardsbest]

Imagine: You feel a bit off today and the argument with your boyfriend Loki doesn’t make things better. What happens when a Steve who doesn’t understand British slang and an overprotective father ruin your sweet plan to get him back?

N/A: Hello dearests, enjoy this new Loki x reader imagine and tell me what are your impressions about it. If you wanna. If you don’t then DEATH. TO ALL OF THEM. Jk. Hope y’all got that reference. 🤟

Warnings: BestFriend!Natasha, Thor is lovely as usual, Dad!TonyStark, Boyfriend!Loki, Language, Fluff, Angst and more fluff, a bit of passion, and British reader/use of British slang (pretty easy and self-explanatory)

Words: 1953

Waking up that morning was tremendously hard. You stumbled against any piece of furniture installed inside of your room by your father, Tony Stark. Well, he was your stepfather, technically, but you weren’t particularly fond of the use of that word.

Yawning your way into the kitchen of the compound, you avoided meeting eyes with Steve. He had been more stressed than usual in the last few days, probably given the upcoming mission. He lashed out at you the day before, or at least that's what you thought was happening.

"I think a cuppa would serve you right."

"A what?"

You looked at him as if he were stupid, but you knew it couldn't be that. "A cuppa? It's.. a cup of tea. You don't know that?" Given his expression, either he was a bit dumb or was just done with you for that day. "No. I like coffee. But thank you."

You weren't mad at him, of course. Nonetheless, ignoring him for a bit did sound like a better idea than trying to cheer him up with your British manners, if you could say. He did not look happy about that.

Staring at the emptiness of your black coffee (and almost gagging at the rough taste), you swallowed the smothering ache in your heart. What was it you were yearning for?

You couldn't place in your mind the exact reason behind this suffering, but you soon grew tired of it. With a pair of eyes following your figure left unnoticed, you dragged yourself up to your room to somehow get ready.

"What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know man. Shouldn't you be locked up in your room like Stark- and he's gone. Thanks for the chat, popsicle."

This was boring, wasn't it? It was raining outside. Perhaps if you were in a rom-com you'd be soaked wet, lightheartedly dancing with a cover of dreamy clouds in the sky, glancing at your boyfriend from time to time, pretending you didn't see his "this is the woman I'll marry" eyes consuming you entirely. However, you weren't the protagonist of a rom-com, much less of a poorly written fan fiction. Additionally, your dear boyfriend wasn't officially... well, your boyfriend, and he'd been ignoring you completely. Which hurt, but your pride defeated your consciousness and you didn't want to talk to him about it.

Then, an idea took place in your mind. You had an opportunity to get back your not-much-of-a-boyfriend, the Captain's shy smile and your fun. Some might say even something more along the way.

"I AM DONE. COMPLETELY, UTTERLY DONE."

You slammed the door of Natasha's office, ignoring the frightening look she gave you and pointed to the chair right in front of you with questioning eyes.

"You slammed my door shut, might as well."

Your eyes dropped unnoticeably. Someone would have noticed though, only he wasn't there.

"I gotta do something. Would you help me with it?."

"What would I help you with, exactly? Y/N, if this is one of your unsettled plans..." She leaned back on the chair, tapping the desk with her bare fingernails.

"No! You can trust me on this, Nat. Please do. I'll buy you some nail polish."

"What?"

"What?"

"WHAT?" Tony on the verge of an anxiety attack wasn't exactly how you thought this plan would go, even though him finding out was not part of it as well.

"Boss, your heart rate is increasing critically."

"Vacation's over. FRIDAY, let's go back to the compound."

You could hear their voices on the other end of the line.

You still didn't utter a word, already having made the mistake of asking your dad when he was bound to return from his "job thing" in Rome. You shouldn’t have said that, because "you never care about it", so it was either a party you were planning or a date. Besides, you might've mentioned the mission that you later remembered, you weren’t supposed to know about.

Your leg was trembling now, having realized the crap mistake you made. "Well shit."

"Y/N!"

"Oh, forgot you were still on. Love you, Dad, bye."

Natasha gawked at you, shaking her head slightly, arms crossed in front of her. This plan was a massive mistake. But it was your plan and you wouldn’t give up on it.

Around noon, Stark made his entry into the structure and went straight to your room, knocking on the door half a time and anchoring his feet to the ground with every step. Hiding your uneven breath, and thanking Nat for her wise advice ("just play sick", she said), you raised the sheets over your painted red nose.

Your dad searched for you in your cosy bedroom, just to find your teary innocent eyes full of greed for success. Maybe you did have a fever.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me you were sick? I thought you were gonna run off to a party or something you kids do."

You shifted under the covers. Shit. That was the plan after all. You were going to coerce Steve into partying with you somewhere you knew Loki would find you, like perhaps that club just around the corner where he wore that leather jacket once. Big story. Regardless, it didn't mean much now that he just vanished from your life.

"I wouldn't have gone anywhere."

An aching cough caught your breath. You tried to keep your eyebrows from furrowing at the actual symptom. You never got sick. Not really, at least.

Tony's eyes were clouded with worry, not liking the sight of you in pain.

"This is what we'll do, kid. You get some rest and I'll have Steve make you some tea."

You sniggered: "Just don't call it a cuppa."

As soon as he left the room, Natasha came out of the bathroom. Your eyes felt heavy, but your mind was still somewhere else.

"You'd make a great actress, has anyone told you that?" she grinned. You liked Nat, especially when you knew she was comfortable enough to enjoy spending time with you. She was your first real friend here at the compound. Your father would keep you hidden here when you were younger, and even though he tried his best to never make you feel like you were alone, he wasn't around much, and always left you with Pepper or Happy, who you now knew as your mother and uncle.

You coughed once again, this time harder, and brought a hand on your chest.

Nat stared at you for a little while.

"You're ill."

"Yeah. And the sun's coming out. This day just couldn't get worse. Did I just manifest getting sick?"

When she stood up from the little chair that was at the side of your bed, she gave you a comforting smile, and then she left, leaving you in Morpheus' arms to fall asleep.

"Do you think perhaps it is best to wake her?"

"Don't be foolish, brother. She is much better like this."

"You mean she's comfortable?"

"I mean she's bearable."

"Ughh."

"Perfect! Lady Y/N, you seem to have awakened."

You looked at the Norse brothers standing at the feet of your bed, still feeling dizzy from your remarkable nap. You hadn't slept this good in a while.

"Thor. Yes. Woken u-uh..p." You stood up. You looked at them. You glanced at them once again.

"OH MY GOD." You quickly covered your face with your hands. Gods, Loki was in your room. He wasn't looking at you, but he was in your room. You could feel his coldness reaching up to your veins - and heart, not only making you feel sick in your stomach but also causing a complementary shameful headache.

"Is uhm... something wrong, Y/N?" Thor's warm voice grounded you slightly but never enough.

With a shallow breath, you released your hands, dropping them along with your head. Looking at the silk white sheets, you wondered if strangling yourself with them would solve anything.

"No, thank you, Thor. Could you just give me a minute to uhm... I need to uh... powder my nose."

He smiled. "Ah yes of course. We'll be in the kitchen."

Your breath hitched. You had to do something.

"Wait!" They altered their steps, this time you looked directly into Loki's ice-blue eyes. "Gotta speak. I mean- I- 'd like to speak to Loki. For a minute. If possible."

Thor adjusted the weight on his feet and then nodded, sizing the room with his comfortable aura.

The instant he left, that same energy vanished, leaving you and that subjugating man to war. A conflict formed of rivalry, an uneasy sense of fear for all that was yet to be said and a deep, desperate need for each other in all ways known to your kind.

You soon grew tired of the dreadful silence. "Are you gonna say anything or shall I speak first?"

"Speak." He kept on staring at the window.

You debated if getting out of the bed would be better for this argument.

"Don't. And there will be no such thing as an argument. I'm not going to force your decision."

You blinked at him. What? Did the ice get to his head?

"Pardon? What decision? And who gave you permission to read my mind, Loki? You left me. Alone. You didn't speak to me for a week. Like... out of nowhere. Just like that- What. Decision." You did get out of bed, now showing your white lace robe to him. If he were looking at you, you'd have felt naked under his gaze.

He kept silent for a while and you did not once stop beholding him.

"I thought you wished not to see me again." He finally witnessed you, completely, entirely, just like you knew he would. Just the way you longed for.

"Why? When did you ever get that impression from me? If I did something wrong please tell me but don't just... don't go away from me."

He attentively took a few steps closer to you. It looked menacing but you knew he was just calculating your next move. He was the prey. But it was you who kept still.

"The bar." The bar?

"What bar?"

"Last week, you brought me to a place. I wore a leather jacket."

Your eyes instantly watered a bit.

"Loki..."

"No. My actions were unnecessary and I shouldn't have- I-."

You broke, fully. You gave in to your heart and hurried to him, still too far across the room. You wrapped your trembling hands around him and almost fell whilst doing so. But he held you mightily, adapting to your action like a lock when it finds its key.

"Lokes... why'd you think that?" You tucked your face in his green and golden armour. "I lo- I know you didn't mean that. You didn't do anything wrong. Please. Is that why you weren't speaking to me anymore?"

Glancing up at him, your gazes met, lost in each other like you could both find your way home. "Yes."

You smiled softly. "Don't do that again. Just talk to me next time."

"There won't be a next time". At that, you frowned. Would he never go out with you again?

"What d'you mean?"

He caressed your cheek, hidden emotions revealed by the trembling of the movement.

"I'll do my best to not do you wrong ever again. It is a promise I'll keep as close to my heart as a dagger."

You giggled dreamily. "Please don't put a knife to your heart."

He moved you closer to his touch. "I won't. But if I do it'll be you who holds the handle."

"You cheeky bastard." And to that, he kissed you ardently, air unneeded for your lungs to work.

N/A: Any idea on what might’ve happened at the club? Also… Loki in a leather jacket.

[crystalbahamut]

ever onwards

FFXIV Write Day 12 – Make-up for Day 07 Speculate

Summary: G’raha Tia likes to gather facts first, but sometimes he still is surprised by the outcome.

Author’s note: I try to write ambiguous WoL but I always forget to take height into account. Deepest apologies to my lala friends; everyone else is more easily fudged. Also please forgive any mistakes; I wrote the whole thing in third person and found I just…really didn’t like it. I know second person isn’t for everyone, especially when used while shadowing another character’s perspective, but I just liked it better. And this is as edited as it is going to get.

Warnings: G’raha Tia/WoL, Shadowbringers spoilers, Crystal Tower questline, mostly unspecified/ambiguous WoL, romantic sap, fluff, 2nd person

Words: 2,692

 ---

G’raha Tia knew this expedition to explore the Crystal Tower would be the opportunity of a lifetime, but he had no way to know just how much it would change his life. The ruins, the relics, even the enemies left to guard the tower do more to serve his research than any tome he has ever found. It’s fantastic and more than he had ever dreamed it would be.

And part of what makes it all so much more is the presence of the Warrior of Light. It is thanks to you he can even access the tower, but more than that you are one of the few friends he has been able to make in his life. And…well, at first G’raha couldn’t help but start flirting. You are so much more wonderful and human than any story has ever made you out to be, and he can’t imagine anyone spending time in your presence and not becoming irrevocably in love with you. He had resolved to stop immediately should you make your discomfort known, but then…

Then you had started flirting back. And now G’raha doesn’t know what to do. Now that he has thought about it (a bit obsessively, perhaps,) he cannot help but marvel at his own foolish bravery to even try, and he wonders how in the world the Warrior of Light does not yet have a suitor. You have nearly all of Eorzea singing your praises, have even wrested the respect of your enemies, and hobnob with some of the most prestigious personages in the world. So how can it be you will not only laugh at G’raha’s jokes, but sometimes smile so abashedly when he himself praises you?

It is entirely possible you have no one special in your life– and given your favorable response to G’raha’s affections, it is not outside the realm of possibility that you might be interested in him as he is in you. While it may seem too good to be true, G’raha won’t relinquish such an opportunity if there is one…and the wondering thereof is starting to affect his work. If he is ever going to focus on anything other than your love life ever again, he must needs find out for certain.

So he shall end his speculation by collecting data. And today is perfect– everyone on site has the day off and you have told him you intend to spend the day not doing any work. ‘Tis a veritable miracle if he ever heard of one– even Cid had looked shocked. And so when you set off…G’raha sets off after you.

G’raha is not a bad hunter, and so he puts that expertise to use as he follows you around. You hadn't noticed him in the Shroud that first time and his tracking skills remain a point of pride now as he follows you to and around Gridania. You do some shopping– and he can’t help but stifle laughter as you get roped into helping out a stressed merchant, a distressed mother, and a pained courier, in that order.

But you do take the time to buy some things– some supplies for crafting you had mentioned wanting, a snack that makes G’raha’s stomach grumble in jealousy– and then you just walk slowly and take in the city, trading hellos with some few that feel comfortable enough to greet you. But through it all you remain alone, and when you pause to sit on a bench G’raha would say you actually look a bit…lonely.

‘Tis food for thought, for certain. Do you have a paramour who simply couldn’t spare the time today? But you are attuned to nearly every aetheryte in the realm; surely if you wanted to spend time with a beloved it would be no hard feat to manage? In fact, surely anyone lucky enough to have you would travel the world to be with you wherever you want them?

You dust yourself off and leave out of the east gate into the Shroud proper, and G’raha follows from a safe distance. You walk leisurely and G’raha can admit to himself the forest is nice, with the faint sounds of birds and a gentle breeze blowing leaves to and fro. He wonders what it would be like, to walk at your side…perhaps hand in hand…perhaps with his tail curling up your forearm…

There are a couple of times you seem to know you’re being followed and you turn to glance in his direction, but even while daydreaming utter nonsense G’raha is ready for such an event and makes certain you see naught but nature itself. Whether or not you feel a presence, you don’t seem terribly bothered, and he follows you all the way down to the South Shroud.

You cleave a little close to Toto-Rak for comfort, but it is a slight shortcut and nothing comes out to bother you before you’re back on the path to Quarrymill. You stop to talk to someone in the small hamlet and G’raha errs on the side of staying out of the way, so he cannot hear what is said, but he can clearly see when you leave out the other gate, which only leads to…

Urth’s Gift. So much for not working today. G’raha cannot help the way his tail twitches in annoyance as he follows behind you. You’re supposed to be resting and Urth’s Gift is dangerous. Yes, you are clearly capable and he has seen you in action in that very area before, but he can’t help but worry at how relaxed you seem about the whole business. Thankfully he had the foresight to bring his bow, and he follows a little more closely, until he gets the benefits of trees and rock faces to clamber and climb for better sight lines.

He doesn’t realize his mistake until you reach the edge of the water, stop, and fold your arms across your chest.

“Don’t worry; I’m not going to make you race me to Ixali territory,” you say with a raised voice and tilt your head to glance back in his direction. “I just fought Garuda again and I’m not keen to incite another summoning so soon.”

He drops down from his branch and assumes his face must be as red as his hair. “How long have you known?”

“I caught a glimpse of you in Gridania and couldn’t help myself,” you say and walk up to him with a friendly smile. “You know, if you wanted to come with me you could have just accepted the offer when I made it.”

“I ah…didn’t want to impose,” he says weakly and puts his bow on his back again. He would be content to run back to Mor Dhona with his tail between his legs right now, but you reach out and grab his hand and he has not the strength to deny your touch. Sweet Azeyma, how deep is he in already?

“If I invite you it’s not imposing,” you say. “I like your company G’raha.”

He looks at you. “Truly?” It comes out so desperate he coughs into his hand and tries to cover it up. “I simply thought– perhaps your time would be better spent with someone you like more than any other.”

“And who do you think that might that be?” you ask him.

“I…don’t know,” he says. Gods; how rude would it be to rip back his hand and run away? And yet this is too much like the tepid fantasies he had just indulged in. Granted the wild hogs and darker shade aren’t quite as lightly atmospheric as just outside the city, but he is still holding your hand in the forest. It must count. “I simply assumed you…must have someone.”

You step forward and you are so close G’raha’s very breath stutters. “No one has ever said anything to me,” you say and you lick your lips and now he’s staring at your lips by the Twelve why. “But I do have someone I like more than any other. And I suspect he likes me too, though I cannot be certain.”

G’raha’s heart sinks. “Oh,” he says and bites back a sigh. “Well if- if it makes you feel any better, there is no one that could receive your affections and not return them. And if this person does not then they are a fool.”

He cannot help how emphatic he becomes, but the idea that you could fall for someone and that person would squander such a precious–

You put your hands on either side of his face and lean in to kiss him. He can do naught but stare, wide-eyed for several seconds, though thankfully the kiss is chaste enough that his delayed clumsy movements can count for a returned gesture before you pull back, an enigmatic smile upon your lips before you ask him, “Are you a fool, G’raha Tia?”

He puts his hands over yours and, again, it takes his brain several long seconds to comprehend what just happened. “I…” He licks his lips. He wants to taste you, feel you, in ways he could have only imagined before. A world, a future is opening up before him, and he wants to see where it leads. “I may be a fool, but not such a deplorable one.”

You roll your eyes but there’s a faint embarrassed smile trying to hide in your face. “It’s not deplorable to not want me, G’raha.”

“We must agree to disagree.” Something snaps and he whips his head around, but there is nothing to be seen, no hogs in the wind, and he relaxes with a sigh. He winks at you. “I must say though, your choice of locale for such a stirring confession is a bit…odd.”

You chuckle and put your hands on his shoulders. “We first met here, so technically it’s where we first started our working relationship,” you say. “I thought it would be nice symmetry if we started our new relationship here too.”

He finds the suggestion…strangely appealing. Perhaps he is odd too, then. To be as odd as his Warrior of Light– well, there are much worst things in the world to be. He puts his hands on your sides and walks forward, guiding you along, until your back meets a rocky wall and he pushes in for a deeper kiss to sate his newfound hunger. Or perhaps it is a thirst he knows he will never quench. It matters not– you are more precious than water in an oasis, and he intends to savor every drop.

---

Decades later and a world away…

G’raha doesn’t know what he’s in for with your invitation to meet him out by the main gate, but he goes with a sense of curiosity and naught else. The night is cool, with a light breeze that blows pleasantly against his face as he walks. He nods in response to those that greet him as he passes by, but, curiously, there is no one present when he arrives outside the Crystarium– no one but you, and you walk up to him with a smile that reaches his heart. It’s embarrassing how quickly you can reduce him to an adolescent miqo’te with his first crush.

He clears his throat and tries to focus on something else. “Where is the guard?”

“Shift change.” You pull him close by his robes. “We have one minute and thirty-seven seconds at most.”

“To do what?” G’raha asks, laughing.

You answer him with a kiss. A deep kiss, dizzying, more than welcome, and G’raha returns it with all the hunger he has felt for far too long, tasting, touching, feeling you in a way that is so intensely personal and warm and wonderful and familiar in a way that makes him realize how much he has ached without your touch. It is, alas, too short, but you both pant in the wake of it.

“Oh…” G’raha gently touches your cheek and his soul sings as you lean into his hand. He licks his lips. He wants more, but the way you shift your eyes towards the gate makes him conscientious of the privacy you’ll soon lack. “I wasn’t sure if…”

“I’m sorry it took so long to arrange,” you say and take his hand to start leading him up the path back to the city. He will follow you wherever, if only you keep your hand in his to guide him. “I knew you probably didn’t want to do that in front of the guards, so I had to watch them to see when we would have a chance.”

But why do it out in the open at all? Why that road? G’raha doesn’t want to ask a question he should perhaps already know the answer to, but curiosity burns at him until he stops and grips your hand to keep you from slipping away. You turn back to look at him and he clears his throat nervously. “Pray forgive me but…why that particular spot?”

Thankfully you don’t seem offended by his question. Instead you grow a wide smile– nay, a full grin. “Do you remember…it’s been a long time, but do you remember the first time we ever kissed?”

“In the Shroud?” he asks. As though he could have ever forgotten; it was only ninety percent of the daydreams he’d had to soothe his mind and soul when the weight of his duty had nearly gotten to be too much. How you tasted, how you felt, how he had felt towards you– it had never failed to stir his heart and renew his commitment to his course to save you at any cost.

“You had followed me around all morning so I led you back to the Shroud, back to where we first met.” You step closer to him and his arms slide around you in automatic response. “At the time I wasn’t completely sure if you liked me like that, but I took a chance and it seemed appropriate to have our first kiss where we first met.”

Slowly, G’raha starts to understand. “Where we first…met. I see.” He cannot help his smile even though it feels so wide as to be ridiculous, and he pulls his hood over his eyes to try and hide how red his face must be for how warm it feels. But he covers the act with, “Perhaps this would have been more appropriate then?”

You laugh and G’raha thinks it shouldn’t be possible to be this happy, after so many decades of pain and fear and loss and longing, but he surges forward to kiss you again and you return the act in full.

“Mm, well,” you drawl sarcastically and gently run your thumb over his bottom lip. “I admit I did spend many a night wondering why on earth I couldn’t stop fantasizing about the Crystal Exarch’s mouth.”

“Oh?” His lips curl of their own accord as he thinks about it– because you would have a crisis about wanting to kiss a man you thought you didn’t know. The idea of you lusting after him though serves to boost his confidence and he pulls you to his body suddenly, tightly. “And what about G’raha Tia’s mouth?”

Your eyes soften. “Ridiculous man,” you say and kiss him again. “You still are, have always been, my G’raha, even when I didn’t know it. But I do now, and if you’ll have me I promise I love you just as much as I did then.”

“I’m not the same as I was,” G’raha says but leans in to nuzzle you.

“Neither am I. So…” You gesture at the gate. “Here’s to new beginnings?”

G’raha smiles. Perhaps he does not deserve to be so happy when his plans went so awry and only worked out due to your sheer stubbornness, but he has never thought himself so austere as to deny himself what he wants when it seems to want him just as much. So he leans in, takes your lips in his, and kisses you tenderly, savoring every second he can, before he pulls back just slightly and whispers, “To new beginnings.”

[ophiuchus-interactive]

Hi, darling! ❤ "i’m finally ready to be with you, but you’ve finally moved on from me, and i’m too late" please?

Am I gonna regret this? Absolutely.

Oooh!!! Nobody specified means everyone gets some pain!!!

Thank you dearie!!!

(TW: Death, growing old, regret, mention of grief, slight mention of blood)

Valerian-

“Was it worth it?”

It was like an itch.

No matter how many times over the years Valerian fought with himself to ignore your last words to him, he couldn’t. It crept up on him, crawled under his skin like a memory made of carrion beetles and worms. The question wouldn’t die, it decomposed- fertilizing nightmares of days long gone by. It turned his heart rotten.

He wakes up sometimes with his hand reaching out across the bed, the coolness of his empty linens sending Valerian drowning amongst the currents of time and misfortune again. Giving his decision the moniker of “mistake” would hardly encompass how much of a fool he was, how he thought so assuredly he had you, that you had all the time in the world to wait.

Just one more job, he would tell you, one more bounty. And all there would be left for him, was you.

But you were gone. And your words stung and scraped and dug at his skin. And he scratched and scratched and scratched at the fading memory of you.

Peter-

People talk about the five stages of grief like it’s a process, but really, it’s a map. It’s a state you find yourself in, a sick and twisted path of destinations and crossroads that path themselves in and out of hell. You find yourself there. You hardly ever leave. Some people are lucky; some find themselves in acceptance of their loved one’s death. Some lose themselves in their anger. Some people, desperate to cling to the memories, never make it farther than phase one.

Peter’s destination was bargaining. He never got any further than that.

Desperation. Helplessness. Despite any and all appearances of the cheery, capable man, you saw more in your time with him than most. And he was hurt.

Peter tried many times to get through these feelings, the past clawing at his heart and mind, ripping- always ripping- him back to where he left off. He was so beside himself in his worry for you every time you got hurt, there were times you thought it better to not go home at all. If only to quell the pain. If only to stop his hurt.

And maybe it was bad. Bad to let him go like you did. But how much more could you stomach watching him hurt? Ghosts haunting him, tormenting him, his face twisting at the sight of you coming out of a battle alive.

Be okay, for me. Please be okay.

You hated promises you couldn’t keep.

You hated the thought of breaking his heart even further, if one night you came home, and you weren’t okay.

Rosalie-

Love isn’t perfect. It was an epiphany she had working on a dock, years after she’d left you. She was older, wiser, but still remembers you the way she liked you best: smiling. Your voice had faded from her memory, your words probably twisted by time, but it was your smile that she recalled with perfect detail. It was good, this way. Better.

Rosalie tries not to think about the moments where it wasn’t flawless, and always to her surprise, those memories are nothing more than blunt daggers in her mind. Tears, anger, regret- those feelings surface, dull and subdued, but they don’t affect her the same way it does with your smile.

Where did it all go wrong?

Rosalie doesn’t know. She doesn’t expect it, either. She broke her finger slamming her hammer down, missing the nail when she came to this realization. The shattering sound of her ring finger was a dull, monotone noise compared to the blood that rushed in her ears;

Did I not try hard enough?

It was you, smiling. The crystal clear sound of your laughter. The mute sounds of your anger- the blurry visions of your tears. Faded arguments. Jokes that sound so familiar. Her memories weren’t perfect. Her love for you wasn’t, either.

But it was real.

Real like the fractured bits of bone and knuckle. Real like her scream. Real like the hot, furious tears that poured down her face, the pain- the pain.

Intangible. Imperfect.

Like her memories of you.

Thane-

“You’re lucky you’re not dead, you know,” Thane’s voice was steady, like scolding was part of his profession, “if they were any closer to you-”

“I know,” You say, your eyelids slamming shut. You did your best to hide your frustration, lest Thane suddenly decides he was going to start bitching to you about that, too, “but I’m alive. It’s fine,”

“It’s reckless,” He corrects, and the familiar feeling of your heart dropping to your stomach throws you off. You were over him. His words shouldn’t sting this much anymore.

“Foolish, really,” Thane continues, and his cold, sterile needle seems bury itself deeper into your skin, “but, given your proclivities for practically throwing yourself at death’s doorstep, I’m not surprised,”

You scoff, throwing back your head in disbelief. Is he being serious?

“I jumped in front of the damn gun because you weren’t moving fast enough! Any slower, Thane, and you would’ve been dead.”

He stops. The needle sat still against your skin. The sutures pulled taut- your wound was almost closed.

“What?”

“He was aiming for your effin’ head,” You spit, tired, tired of the damn man in front of you. Never so much as a thank you for the amount of times you saved his ass, and he’s still giving you shit? Still grating on your fucking nerves?

“I…” He sucks in a breath, “I didn’t know that,”

“No shit,” You huff, “you never do.”

That seems to be enough to snap Thane back out of his daze. His piercing, cold eyes met yours, and you were surprised to see that they seem to mirror your irritation. Your fury,

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

That you're loved, you fool. I loved you.

Why couldn’t you see that?

Why couldn’t you see me?

There was so much at that moment you wanted to say, so many words that turned stale on your tongue. It was bitter, finally seeing the realization on his face, to watch those very lips that you’d only dreamt of tasting, turn until tight, thin frown. Confusion and worry and shock painted his face a pale, pinkish gray. It was the color, you realized, of regret.

Of his regret. Not yours.

Ophelia-

When Ophelia found your first gray hair, she almost cried.

It’s started. The clock is ticking.

You soothed her horror with laughter, plucking the strand of hair straight from your head and throwing it to the side, like it was garbage. Trash.

“You stress me out,” You say with a laugh, and Ophelia finds it in herself to smile. She doesn’t notice at first, how the laugh lines deepen.

You complained of pains in your back. Your hips. Riding a horse has become too much of a pain for long distance travel.

Your head of hair is now silver. Ophelia pays the color little mind.

She insists on riding into town herself more and more, much to her quiet, naked distress.

You slap her shoulder playfully, shrugging off your discomfort like you were twenty-three again,

“And miss out on the candy restock? Perish the thought.”

Ophelia now loves the contoured lines of your face. You’ve laughed a lot. It’s pretty.

You sit at home now, keeping your hands busy as best you can.

Ophelia does her best to ignore the gossip in town. She’s older, and yet they call you the pervert.

Does she really look so young? Has she really not changed? Will there be no sign of growing old with you?

You smiled sadly as she said these things late one night. She’d be crying again,

“Be still, my heart. I am always with you.”

She misses it.

She left for town only a day ago. The tulips were in bloom. Ophelia thought it a good idea to surprise you.

Doc greeted her in town. He shook his head, eyes cast to the ground.

The tulips were ruined in her haste, and Ophelia cried herself into exhaustion.

It was a terrible day. A feather unnoticed on her neck, had turned a light shade of gray.

Javier-

Javier was cold. Dying was a frigid feeling.

His chest heaved slow, shallow breaths. With each rise and fall of his chest, he could feel his own blood fill up his lungs, his own chest caving in. Dying was an uncomfortable feeling.

He held your hand like it was his lifeline. Javier didn’t want to look in your eyes again, he knew the light was gone.

“Re-remember when,” he starts, and the force of his breath alone causes him to gag and heave. For a brief second, he wonders if this was it- he couldn’t even say goodbye, before he said hello again. Javier was okay with that. But his breathing slows and calms down, and it was enough for him to start again,

“R-remember when I first met you?” It was a favorite of his; you looked so wild back then, so free. Years have passed and times have changed, you along with it, but the way you looked then?

It made him believe in such a thing called love.

Javier tries to laugh, but it comes out as a choked, wet cough. His hand still held onto yours tightly,

“...you...made me feel alive. And...and scared, a-and brave, and- oh, god, I love you. I-I love you.”

Javier took a breath. Dying was a tiring feeling.

He held your hand. Dying was a lonely feeling.

But he’s coming, and he’s sorry that he’s so late.

Sergio-

“Thank you,”

He laughs. It’s a hollow sound. Sergio was three fingers deep into his rye when you finally spoke up, and of course, it makes him laugh,

“Is that what divorced people say to each other? Thank you?”

You shrug, gulping down a glass of your own poison. Divorce decrees took more out of you than gunfights. Is it any wonder why one happens more than the other?

“You were my husband,” You say quietly, your eyes never meeting him, “You loved me, for better or worse...thank you, for that.”

“You’re an amazing person,” Sergio says without hesitation. His fingers were cold as he clutched his whiskey glass, raising it high into the air, “I...I mean that. Truly.”

What more was I to do, if not love you?

You smile, gulping down your sorrows, lest they escape your lips. Crying was for later. You’re saying goodbye, now.

“I, ahem,” Sergio clears his throat, his free hand going to wipe his reddened eyes, “I hope that whoever they are, they treat you good and proper, and that you are loved…” He pauses, “...that you are loved, as I’ve loved you.”

Say it more. Mean it. Husband, what words are these, when I’m no longer meant for them?

“I don’t hate you, Sergio,” You blurt, and they were words that demand repeating, “but this...I’m not...we, we’re not-”

They are only meant for you.

“-I know,” Sergio says, giving a wave of his hand, “I know. And thank you,”

“For?”

“For allowing me to love you,” Sergio says unevenly, and he takes a moment more to finish his drink.

????/Hope-

So this is agony.

Another’s hand upon your cheek.

You looked happy in their arms. You wore the same smile that made them realize what love was for the first time- what it could truly mean. Those feelings only grew inside them as time went on, bright and fluttering and bursting, so this is love.

It felt good.

But you never gave them that look you’re giving your lover, now. There’s no light in your eyes when your gaze finds them- you grin, you always grin, but it’s the same look you give Valerian and Peter.

It hurts. But why?

They should be happy for you- you're happy. You have someone to love. If this is what you’re feeling, being in your lover’s arms…?

They’ll have Rosalie run a diagnostic on their systems- surely this is a glitch that needs to be fixed. If you’re happy, they’re happy. Rosalie can fix this pain, and Hope will be normal again.

It hurts, being like this.

[hayleyb100]

The Ribbon, Part 2

Part 1

❗️ Notes

-TRIGGERS INCLUDED: SCHOOL BULLYING AND ANGST WITH FAMILY -This is a dedicated story of the swap version of my OC Richard(Father of Raihan) and his granddaughter, the shipchild of Leon and Raihan called Ari. -The character Ari belongs to @weclownstoday​. Huge appreciations for letting me add her to the story!

An uncomfortable silence filled the whole room. Richard saw the girl scanning him from top to bottom, just like how he is doing the same. Without the girl having to explain, Richard could feel in his intuition that she is his granddaughter. She had the purple hair that looks so familiar to him: The unique hair color of the Former Champion of Galar, who got married to his son Raihan. It was on the news headline for years. On top of that, she also had the peculiar turquoise-colored eyes that are passed down in his Pendragon family.

As Richard's face frowned more from trying to investigate who the girl is, she fiddled with her wooden doll nervously. Richard's dragon glare is already scary as it is, so it was far worse for a child who is left alone with a stranger.

"Who are you?" why, that is such a sweet first question for a child.

"......." she only stared back at Richard, grabbing the doll closer.

"......." Richard stared her back, making the atmosphere even more awkward.

The girl finally made a move other than fiddling her doll. She hesitantly put her hand in a pocket, pulled out a slightly crumpled paper, and gave it to Richard.

Richard was pleading his intuition was wrong. A child that resembles him standing in front of a stranger's home in the middle of the night alone with a note to give him? It was obvious but he wished his intuition was wrong and silly for once. But his intuition was written precisely on the paper. Familiar handwriting of his son-in-law, the Champion, he sees as a Gym Leader was there. It claimed they can't care for the child anymore and sending her for his care.

That short message pushed Richard to the whole chaos of emotions. He first got extremely upset for them deciding this without a word of discussion with him. He was also confused on how to explain this situation to the child since it was obvious they didn't explain this to the child. There was no way a child can be so calm and collected when their parents dumped her in front of a stranger's door. Another wave of rage overwhelmed as Richard realized those two irresponsible parents tossed the hard part of the explanation to him. It was even more difficult since, it may sound ridiculous, but he didn't even know about his granddaughter's existence.

'What a beautiful first encounter for sure,' thought Richard.

'Normally, I expect this kind of the first encounter in the maternity ward, right after their birth, or at least right after they are discharged from the hospital.'

He inhaled deeply, asked the girl to stay here while he went to call alone in the room. The number he desperately wanted to call for decades but honestly scared not to.

"Hello?" a familiar woman's voice came.

"...Aliyah."

"Richard..." an awkward silence filled the whole atmosphere.

"Did she arrive there well?"

Richard sneered to suppress rage.

"So, the first thing you ask from getting a call from your ex-husband after decades is how is your abandoned granddaughter?" a clear snap with rage. Richard couldn't help it.

"It would have been nice of you to at least told me of her existence before doing something so reckless. What is all this?"

"Richard, please don't say that... We didn't have a choice."

"Oh? I heard the Chairman, your father, passed away three years ago. So who ordered you to do this now? Are you still the same old woman who can't decide anything on your own?"

"......." after a brief silence, Richard hears someone snatching the phone.

"Hello?"

Richard's heart drops, as the voice pierces into his ears and tears his heart in two.

"...Raihan."

"I'm surprised you remember my name, considering you abandoned me for your career as a Gym Leader."

Richard was lost for words.

"Is that what your mother told you?" even at Richard's shaky voice, Raihan interrupted.

"Doesn't matter who says what now, is it? You abandoned me, and that's the only fact here."

Richard falls into silence since it's true. No matter if it was his shitty father-in-law who threatened him, his wife wasn't cooperative, and the world turning a cold shoulder, he DID leave his son behind.

"Well? You did me wrong, so at least take care of my mistake."

"...Please do not tell me that you just addressed your daughter as a mistake."

"What? It's what you think of me, so can't I say the same? It's what I learned from you."

NO, RAIHAN, NO!! Richard nearly screamed, but something stopped him.

"I don't even know if I'll ever forgive you for caring about my mistake, but eh... Whatever." with that as of last, the long-overdue phone call ends.

Richard couldn't breathe from the pain. He thought he did what was right to protect his son, but he is now engraved in his son's heart as a horrible father and the butterfly effect from that is about to tear his grandchild's life apart. He started to question all his decisions and motives. His life is about to crumble down. But the grimmest thing of all is that he isn't even allowed to do that. He knew that girl needs a caretaker and there is no way he'll send her away somewhere else. Not after what happened to him and his son.

He stroked his face to calm down and went out to the living room where his granddaughter is.

________________________________

She was still fiddling her doll, showing a clear sign of anxiety. Richard took a sharp inhale and called her.

"Umm... Your name is?"

"Ari..." she said shortly, looking down at her tip of the toes.

"I see... Greetings. My name is Richard Pendragon."

He was as anxious as the girl, since judging from Raihan's attitude, it was obvious how Aliyah and his son described him to his daughter.

"...Ari. Please listen to me carefully." another inhale.

"From today onward, I will take care of you. You are staying here with me, your grandfather. Alright?"

Richard thought it would be better for Ari's sake to open everything up before she finds out everything later and gets more pain.

"O... Okay..." Ari said nervously. "For how long?"

Richard's throat got blocked with intense torment. How can he dare to just bluntly answer 'forever' when she has no idea that her parents abandoned her and she is solely believing her parents would get her later?

"For... as long as we have to." Richard ended up giving a vague answer where he didn't lie but wasn't clear either.

Richard had no idea what to do with a little girl, so he started by shopping the stuff for her like clothes and children's books. She came with a suitcase of clothes but that was not enough. He didn't know what's popular among girls these days so he bought a pink ribbon as an accessory. 

 Ari had no idea why her grandpa was buying so many clothes when she's just going to stay for a couple of days until her dads come to get her. But since she heard all the horrible and scary things about her grandpa from her father, she just listened and followed him around without arguing. Sooner or later, the old storage room next to Richard's room turned into a lovely room for a little girl. Ari still was in wonder, but just watched how things go. She realized her grandpa wasn't too awful like her father described. He cooked some delicious food for all three meals and although clumsy, he tried his best to tie her hair and dress her. He also registered her to the local trainer's school to get appropriate lessons.

But that's when Ari started to feel something's wrong.

If dad is coming to get her soon, why would her grandpa register her to a school?

________________________________

She still was in denial until days turned into months and months turned into years without any contact from her parents.

"Umm, s, sir?" Ari nervously called him.

"Yes, Ari?"

"Can I call my father?"

"............."

Richard hesitated. But in his head, he knew the answer. He can't hoard a secret like this. Look how keeping that secret from his son ruined the relationship between him and his son.

"Ari, umm... Your father will not come for you. Do you remember I said you will have to stay here as long as you have to? It means..." Richard just couldn't continue. The pain came back at his granddaughter's frowning face.

"N- no!" Ari shook her head in denial. But deep within, she already knows what her grandpa is telling her is true. She tumbled on the floor and started wailing.

"Dad! Father! I'm sorry, I won't be naughty again! Please come and get me!"

Ari's helpless tears brought Richard down to his knees too. He was so sorry for her, thinking everything that happened is because of his foolish choice.

[animeloverskylarmoon]

Hanataro Yamada x Reader- Oneshot (Bleach)

"It's that punk again how pathetic." your eyes raised at the people gathered before you. A few of the reapers were gathered around someone. As you got closer you could see who it was.

 "Of course." you thought with a sigh. You don't know why, but somehow the blue haired healer always managed to get himself into a pickle. 

"C-Come on guys w-were all on the same side." you could hear the tremor in his voice. 

"Alright the fun is over I need him." you spoke boredly. A few of them stepped away from the reaper, and when his eyes caught you they lit up.

"(Y-Y/N)-chan!" Hanataro ran to your side and you looked over at the other annoyed reapers. One of them smirked. 

"Heh, you're always helping him, I'm starting to think you have a crush on the little guy." your face turned red. 

"Like hell I do!!" you bellowed. You raised your sword threateningly. 

"If you keep spouting such trash I'll make you regret it!" you barked. He took a step back when he felt your reiatsu start to overflow. He turned without another word, his friends following behind him. You sheath your blade with a huff. 

"Idiots." you looked back at Hanataro who was smiling at you happily. "W-What!" you demanded. Your face was getting hot by the way he was staring at you. He blinked, waving his hands around. 

"N-Nothing. Y-You're just always helping me. Thank you (Y/N)-chan." you looked away walking. "Whatever." you grumbled. Hanataro followed you and you kept your gaze low. Hoping he couldn't read the way his smile had affected you. 

"W-Why do I even like him?" You couldn't understand it. You were a fighter, he was a healer. The both of you were total opposites yet..you always found yourself helping him.

Sometimes you would go out of your way to make sure he was okay, especially since he was an easy target for some of the other reapers who apparently had nothing better to do than pick on the adorable guy. "(Y/N)-chan?" you looked up quickly in a sort of panic. 

"What's wrong are you okay!?" you asked urgently. You just assumed maybe something was wrong. Hanataro looked at you for a few moments before smiling again. 

"I'm fine, I was just asking if you were okay but you didn't respond so I thought something was wrong. " He stepped forward, taking your hands.

"If something is wrong you can tell me. I know I'm not much of a help, but I'll do what I can. You're always there for me, it's the least I can do." His blue orbs looked so determined, so generally concerned. 

"That's why...that's why I'm in love with him.." Hanataro was right, he wasn't strong, yet what had drawn you to him wasn't his brute strength, no, it was that look. The one that would do anything to help his friend even if he knew he could get hurt in the process. He was brave.

Your eyes lowered, pulling your hand out of his. 

"I'm fine don't worry. " You hated the fact that you weren't as brave as he was. Yeah, you could hold your own in a fight, but internally you were a coward. You couldn't even tell the one guy you had been in love with for years that you liked him. You swallowed. "Thank you though." you muttered. Hanataro grinned. 

"Of course!" He chirped.

~~

"Rukia-san, are you sure this is all the paperwork. " You tried to stifle a laugh as Hanataro tried to balance the large pile of documents in his arms. She nodded with a smile of her own. 

"Yes, although you don't have to try and carry them in one trip, you could always come back for the rest. " he shook his head frantically. 

"T-That's not necessary!" You knew why he didn't want to make two trips. He was probably scared he would get jumped again. You stepped forward, taking the top half of the documents. He titled his head. 

"(Y/N)-chan?" you raised your head with a light blush on your face. 

"It would be a hassle if you hurt yourself just carrying papers." You didn't say anything after that, you just started walking and Hanataro stumbled trying to catch up with you. 

"W-Wait up!!" He fell in step, the both of you walking side by side. Rukia watched the scene with a knowing look.

Hanataro's eyes wandered over you. He'd known you since well, forever. Back in the academy no one really ever paid much mind to him, yet you always seemed to be looking his way. You helped him constantly and he always wondered why. 

You never demanded anything in return. Nor did you pick on him like the others. In the back of his mind he thought, he hoped maybe you felt the same way he did. It was foolish. You were a strong beautiful fighter. And he was just well..Hanataro. There wasn't anything grand, so why, why did you even give him the time of day.

Hanataro had been so caught up in his own thoughts he didn't see you come to a complete stop. You were looking ahead with hardened eyes. When he noticed he stopped too. His eyes landed on the reapers who had been pestering him for the past week. The leader of the group stepped forward with a cocky grin. 

"What do we have here, two lover birds taking a stroll." you growled at him. 

"Beat it idiots, we're not interested. " His grin got wider. "We? So I was right. You are with the pathetic excuse for a reaper." he taunted. You gritted your teeth. 

"Shut up!!" you demanded.

"Oh! It's fine the both of you make a great couple." You exploded.

"SHUT UP THERE'S NO WAY I'D LIKE A WEAKLING LIKE HIM MUCH LESS DATE HIM!!"

Hanataro stood there hoping what he had just heard was all in his head. When he saw the wide smiles of the other reapers faces he knew it was true. That's what you thought of him. You probably felt sorry for him. No wonder you were always helping. 

"Heh, who was I kidding..of course that's what she thinks of me.." He should have expected it. There was no way someone like you would go for someone like him.

As soon as the words left your mouth you regretted it. Your eyes glanced back at Hanataro. Your heart clenched at the hurt look in his eyes. 

"Hanataro.." the other reapers looked satisfied at Hanataro's broken stare. 

"Of course not, glad you realize how useless he really is." They didn't say much else, walking off with laughs. You watched as they slowly faded from your view.

"Hanataro I-"

"It's fine." he cut you off. He gave you a smile, walking off ahead. You followed, unsure of what you could say. Every step you took felt like a weight on your heart. 

"You don't have to explain. I know you don't have those feelings for me. You are right though I am a weakling. " he laughed bitterly. "You don't have to keep looking out for me you know. It's probably a bother." Your hands gripped the papers tighter. 

"T-That's not why I.." you stopped yourself from saying anymore. Hanataro didn't look back at you. Otherwise he probably would have noticed the conflict in your eyes. 

"Either way, it's not necessary. I can take care of myself." you were shocked at how cold the words he spoke came out. The both of you continued on your way, neither saying a word to each other after that.

The weeks following that incident felt like hell. You weren't sure if Hanataro was avoiding you. Although it was pretty obvious he was. Whenever there was paperwork to collect someone else came to get them. Not once did Hanataro visit your barracks. You tried going to him and maybe apologizing for the harsh words you said. 

Every time you entered, as soon as he saw you he would make any excuse to leave. At first you understood, but after a while it got to you. You had blown it with him. There was no way he would talk to you again. All because you were too scared to admit your feelings.

"I ruined everything.."

~~~~~

You sat outside your captain's squad, tears falling to your lap. You didn't notice Rukia standing behind you watching the scene. She stepped out of the room finally making her presence known and you wiped at your eyes hurriedly. 

"R-Rukia-san." you said a bit startled. You didn't want her to see you like this, weak and broken.

She took a seat at your side. 

"Are you alright, you've been like this for a while. Do you want me to call Hanataro. I'm sure he can-"

"NO!" you yelled. Her eyes widened and you looked down. "N-No it's fine I'm okay." Rukia's eyes narrowed. 

"I have a feeling that has something to do with him (Y/N)-chan. He hasn't been by for a while now. He usually stops by at least once a week to say hello." you didn't answer, but she knew that was the case. 

From the looks of it, you weren't going to confront the problem. And Hanataro wasn't going to either. Rukia stood up, giving you a pat on the shoulder. She walked off without a word and you were thankful. Rukia stepped into the office with a new mission.

"Since the both of them are going to avoid the problem, I guess I'll just have to give you a little nudge."

~~~~

"Is there anything else taicho?" Jushiro shook his head. "I believe that's all." he said, shooting you a smile as he gathered the remainder of documents on his desk. You walked over with a sigh of relief as you placed what you had completed on his desk. 

"You've been working really hard. Would you like some tea." you giggled with a nod. Jushiro really acted like an old man sometimes. "Sure taicho." you accepted. He looked excited as he stood to get a kettle going.

Just as he walked off you heard frantic steps coming from outside. Your eyebrow raised when you saw the door fly open. Rukia rushed in with a desperate look on her face. 

"(Y/N)!!" she sounded scared. "I-It's Hanataro.." You could see the present tears in her eyes. Her voice broke and your eyes shook, heart thumping in fear.

"W-What's wrong!!" She was holding unto your shoulders panting. You could see the sweat gathered on her forehead. 

"There was a hollow attack at the fourth squad barracks. I-I was there talking to Hanataro when it happened. T-They came out of nowhere! There were so many. H-He pushed me out of the way, b-but h-he...he got badly injured. Unohana-taicho says he still hasn't woken up yet. " your body was trembling as you took in the information. 

"N-No.." you staggered for a moment, bolting out the door. Rukia watched as you went dashing through the barracks. When you were gone she wiped the tear from the corner of her eyes with a grin.

"Success!" 

Jushiro walked back in with a kettle in his hand. "Hmm, where did (Y/N)-chan go?" Rukia brushed it off. 

"She had something to take care of. Can I have some tea?" Jushiro nodded with a smile. 

"Of course. "

~~~

You pushed your body to go as fast as you could. When you finally got to the fourth squad barracks there was a visible hole in the wall of the building at the med area where patients usually resided. You panicked, rushing up the stairs. You were sprinting down the corridors, trying to get to your destination. You skidded to a stop when you got there. 

You almost ripped the door off its hinges trying to get in. When you entered the first thing you saw was Hanataro standing with a few scratches on his face. "Hanataro!!" he turned and you dove into his arms. He stumbled back, surprised at the way your hands wrapped around his neck.

"(Y-Y/N)??" you clenched him tightly. 

"I'm sorry!" you cried. 

"I-I'm so sorry for what I said!! It was so mean. I-I only said it because I didn't want to admit the truth. " Hanataro couldn't do much but listen as you rambled on. "I-I've loved you for so long and I was too scared to say anything so I-I lied when those reapers asked me. I-I was embarrassed. " Hanataro's body went rigid.

"D-Did she just say that she.." He was dreaming, he had to be. You just kept on going.

"B-But when Rukia said you were attacked by that hollow all I could think about is never getting the chance to tell you, a-all because I was a coward." you wept. Hanataro could feel you shaking against him. 

"I love you Hanataro, I love you, I love you!" Hanataro's heart beat increased rapidly at your confession. He pulled back with wide eyes. "You..love me.." you nodded with a smile.

"I love you so much Hanataro!" you confessed. Hanataro's eyes softened. This is what he'd wanted for so long. "I love you too (Y/N)-chan." your eyes started to well up with tears again. You grabbed either side of his cheeks, pressing your lips to his own. 

Hanataro's eyes grew wide at the action. He just stood there frozen as you kept your lips pressed to his. When you pulled away his cheeks were cherry red. You didn't seem to really process what you'd done. When you did you pulled away with a heavy blush. 

"Ah! G-Gomen!!" you apologized. You lifted your hand, blocking your lips with the back of your palm. Hanataro looked down at his feet, face still flushed.

"I-It's okay.." he mumbled. The both of you just stood there awkwardly for a while. Something finally hit you though. 

"W-Wait, Rukia said you were unconscious, how did you recover so quickly from the hollow attack?"

"Hollow attack? I wasn't attacked by a hollow." you gave him a blank look. 

"E-Eh?"

"Kurotsuchi-taicho brought a new invention of his, he said it would help charge some of the machines we have here. I guess I tried to charge too many at once because it exploded. " Your eyes moved over to the piece of metal that was smoking on the ground. "Is that so.." He nodded. "Hai!" you smiled, looking at the cute expression on his face. 

"You should be more careful, it could have been far worse. " He whined. "(Y/N)-chan don't lecture me." you shook your head at his pout. 

"You're my responsibility now so how can I not." you said folding your arms. He looked at you for a few seconds, a smile slowly making its way on his face. He bowed. "Then please take care of me from now on!" you flushed. 

"H-Hey no need to bow." you advised rubbing the back of your head bashfully. He stood up straight with a boyish grin. An arrow struck you right in the heart at his expression.

"Damn it..he's definitely going to be the death of me."

[kalle-and-lita]

My half of the art trade with @tagedeszorns featuring their OC Doriel. I can't even begin to tell you how much of a joy it was to work with the mun and their muse!

~~

Lita cast a furtive glance down the long halls of the palace. It was so quiet she could hear the beat of her heart thunder in her ears. Perhaps it was because she was leaving work so close to curfew. Only the foolish would dare to walk the empty streets lest they incur the wrath of the Night Haunter.

Maybe it was the fear of her mistress, whose rage was easily incited these days. Several members of the staff had already gone missing. Lita wasn't fool enough to believe they had just left.

Or perhaps, her nervousness was due to the large platter of food she clutched to. Taking food, even uneaten, was akin to stealing from the barons. If she was caught she'd be killed without a second thought.

But she was on a mission, and she would not be deterred. So Lita steeled her nerves and made her escape as quiet as she could. Every step was carefully planned, every corner scrutinized until she was sure she was safe and alone. She didn't breathe easy until she passed through the servants entrance and out onto the streets.

There was the faintest drizzle pouring from the sky. A cacophony of lights twinkled in the perpetual dark, reflecting off dirty glass windows and pools of stagnant water in the broken streets. Above the familiar hum of the city Lita noted the blessed silence. No screaming, no gunfire. Orderly silence since the whispers had begun.

Whispers of a silent stalker in the night. A savior to the weak who suffered beneath the heel of the barons and their crime lords. Night Haunter they called him, and his was a name revered with fear and awe. Rumors persisted of his speed, his ferocity. While she had not seen his handiwork for herself, Lita knew the tales of the flayed criminals he left out as warning. To take caution because if you caught his gaze there would be no one to save you from him.

Lita's reverie was broken by the sound of shoes scuffing cobblestone. Just like the nights before they came out of the shadows like pale little spirits. Four in total with the youngest looking no older than five or six. The oldest approached first, crossing the street once he was sure they were all alone. He was strange for a Nostromon; his hair was the color of a fire blazing away in the adamantium furnaces. Though he still possessed the pallid complexion and the hardened, steel black gaze of his kin.

"Hello," Lita smiled, "I'm glad you boys are safe. I brought the good stuff from the kitchen."

The redhead eyed her sharply, a frown etched into his features. The smaller shadows of his gang pressed at his back threateningly,

"Ah," Lita warned, waving a scolding finger at them, "Unless you want to go back to eating garbage and refuse I suggest you play nice."

"Fuck off." The redhead snapped over his shoulder. His mates backed off, though they still possessed a hungry look in their eyes. Sure that they weren't going to cause trouble, the young boy turned back to her, "What you want for it?"

"We have this conversation every time." She sighed, she popped the lid off one of the bowls of food. A hearty, and savoury aroma filled the air. If the boys looked hungry before they were absolutely ravenous now. "I don't want anything more than the satisfaction of you boys being well fed."

The redhead shot her a venomous glare, "I still say it's bullshit. Ain't nobody that nice."

"So you don't want the food then?" She teased, the younger kids hissed at their leader,

"Shut up, Doriel, before you ruin it!" One hissed. The young boy, Doriel, scowled right back,

"I ain't ruining shit! Look, bitch, just hand over the food and we'll get out of your hair."

Lita chuckled but pointedly ignored Doriel's rather colorful language. The large bowl of stew was all but yanked from her hands and she happily watched as the children ate. More than once the young redheaded boy thumped one of his mates on the shoulder, a silent admonishment for taking more than a fair share.

And they scampered off just as quick as they came with Doriel offering a cursory glance back at her. She nodded a farewell and tossed the now empty bowl, all too eager to navigate the eerie streets of the upper districts. Her feet pounded against hard stone as she ran, a desperate bid to get to the shops before curfew descended upon her. 

Luck was not completely on her side tonight, however. Lita cringed as the shop door slammed shut behind her and locked tight. Lights flickered off, leaving her alone on the dark sidewalk. Her gaze flickered to the shadowy corners around her, their long tendrils closing in on her.

She didn't make it a habit to be out past curfew. A nervous tension settled in her belly as she set off for home. Her footsteps echoed loudly, bouncing off the high buildings ominously. Each passing minute was like agony, the eerie silence fraying at her nerves until there was a burning itch between her shoulder blades.

Lita tensed at the feeling.

She was no stranger to this sensation of being watched. Years of service to the barons, and even her years on the streets, had refined her sense of awareness. All the better to know when to run or hide.

But this was not the first night she felt the piercing gaze of the unknown stalker's eyes. For weeks she walked home with the proverbial dagger aimed at her back, ever nervous for an attack that had yet to come.

Lita turned a sharp corner in an effort to evade her stalker. A stupid idea to turn into the pitch black of the alleyway, but she knew it to be a shortcut home and she was desperate. Her heart thundered away in her ears even as her footsteps echoed on the walls. Save for the drizzling of the rain there was nary a sound above the hum of quiet.

Then, just behind her, she heard something hit the ground. If she hadn't been listening so keenly she wouldn't have heard it. Lita froze with a gasp, a chill ran down her spine and the burn in her shoulder blades grew hot. There was a presence at her back, she could feel its hot breath on her neck.

Against her better judgement she turned to look, oh so slowly spinning on her heels. She came face to face with a monstrously large Nostromon man, the pitch black of his eyes drawing her in. His thin strands of black hair stuck to his face, and fell over his shoulders as he sat nearly hunched over her. Lita blinked dumbly, mouth agape in terror.

All at once her sense of self preservation kicked in as a smile crossed his face. A set of wicked sharp teeth gleamed at her and the fear in her gut rose well past the point of control.

So Lita did what any normal person would do and panicked. And in her panic she did the very first thing that sprang to mind, and she threw her grocery bags at him. She didn't bother to stick around to see his reaction. She was far too interested in running as fast her poor legs could carry her.

And she didn't stop running until she was safely back in her apartment. The keys clattered to the floor and her back hit the door. Her lungs burned and her legs gave out, and Lita hit the ground with a hard thud while her mind tried to wrap around what just happened.

He'd been so quiet. That thought scared her more than she cared to admit. How was it possible that someone so large could be so silent?! And she was fairly certain that the only reason she'd known he was there was because he let her see him.

Just who was he? Why was he following her?

Cold realization hit her hard as she came down from her adrenal high. The whispered tales of the few who'd seen the Night Haunter and lived. Of the man draped in shadow and blood, larger than life who took no qualms in spilling the blood of the guilty.

"Oh gods," Lita's hands flew to her mouth, "Oh gods!"

And she had just hit him.

In the face.

With her grocery bags!

She sprang to her feet and ran to check her windows, futile as it seemed. If the Night Haunter wanted to get to her windows were not going to stop him. For the better part of an hour she paced the confines of her apartment, awaiting retribution despite her own perceived innocence. Fixated on the fact that she had thrown her food at the Night Haunter in blind panic.

Lita resented the fact that if she was going to die, she was going to do so hungry.

The burn eventually came back. Fear turned to trepidation as she paused at her living room window. The balcony was empty, wet with the rain. She took a few deep breaths before she opened the sliding glass door. Before she could second guess herself she leaned onto the railing and took another deep breath.

"I'm sorry!" She shouted into the night. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked. "I swear I didn't know it was you. I wouldn't have hit you if I had. I'm so sorry!"

A long moment of silence passed until she picked up the sound of something dragging on the roof behind her. She turned her gaze up to find the Night Haunter casually perched on the roof edge, black eyes boring right into her skull. She averted her gaze in embarrassment.

"I am so, so sorry." She repeated, "I wasn't expecting to be followed, and you appearing out of nowhere startled me, and I panicked..."

She was bumbling like an idiot, trapped between him and the railing. But his silence was making her nervous. Lita felt the hot flush warm her face.

Then, something hit the ground. Lita jumped then stooped over to find her grocery bag, albeit missing some of its contents but still intact. She looked up, still under his scrutinizing gaze.

"Uhhm," she stuttered, awkwardly collecting her bag and shuffling towards the door, "Thank you."

He blinked at her, expression neutral even as he watched her slip inside and close the door.

The itch in her shoulder blades didn't cease as she put away her groceries and started dinner. She tried to ignore it for the most part, though she couldn't help but wonder why he was sticking around. Surely there were more interesting things to do than watch her?

She found her way back to the balcony door eventually, after setting her stew to a simmer. The Night Haunter now perched on the railing so he could peer in. She slid open the door to poke her head out.

"Hi." Lita muttered, he blinked again and let the awkward silence stretch out, "Uh, I made food. Did you want some?"

No answer save for his endless staring. Lita swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped back,

"I'll, uh, leave the door open for you then."

She retreated back to the kitchen, wooden spoon in hand. The minutes passed as she slowly stirred the stew, lost in the rhythmic motions. That was until she felt a presence hunched over her shoulder. Lita dared not look up, instead she simply muttered under her breath,

"I think I need to get you a bell."

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair

Chapter 7: Under His Protection

x

Work Summary: Jamie Fraser is hiking near some strange stones when he comes across an unconscious lass. Determined to help her, Jamie’s life is turned completely upside down as he takes her in. The only issue... she’s not human.

Chapter 7 Summary: Claire confronts various emotions; tensions rise.

Read on AO3

Read chp 7 below the cut

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A/n: Hold onto your hats, we’re taking a dive into Claire’s POV!

Chapter 7: Under His Protection 

***

Claire woke slowly, her brain struggling against the mire of unconsciousness, swimming lazily to the surface. As she cracked her eyes open and took in the darkness, confusion and anxiety gripped her like vines coiling around her ankles. 

Where was she? 

The material under her cheek was strange, and she certainly wasn’t on the ground with the familiar feeling of brush and grass against her cheek. Whatever she was lying on was soft and had a lot of give. 

She nearly started to panic, but then she became aware of the feeling of arms wrapped around her and her body securely anchored to that of the warm one behind her. 

While her brain, still clouded with sleep, struggled to identify who the arms belonged to, it was her heart that fondly sighed, “Jamie.” 

And then she felt it. 

Safety— warring against the uncertainty. 

Awareness came back to her with that, and she remembered all the events of the previous few days. Here she was, in this strange human’s house, in his arms even, forever cut off from her home. 

The grief washed over her anew. Her whole world had been tilted upside down in mere minutes, the repercussions of touching the stones still revealing themselves. But she could feel in her bones that she was lost, never to return. 

The thought terrified her. 

Tears pricked at her eyes and her heart leapt suddenly to her throat. She tried to swallow the lump, to force it back down, but she felt the pressure inside her building— fit to burst into another meltdown over all she’d lost. 

So she turned to the one thing she could— both figuratively and literally. 

She rolled over so she was facing Jamie. In sleep, his arms instinctively shifted with her so he was still holding on to her, clutching her body to himself. As he settled back in, his breathing a reassuring rhythm, he pulled her even closer with a soft hum.  

He looked so peaceful that she hesitated to wake him. But tears were dripping from her eyes now, and she felt so alone that she wanted him— awake with all his gentleness and quick reassurances— desperately. In a tremulous, barely there voice, she whispered, “Jamie?” 

It took only a second for his eyes to open and fix on her. They were beautiful eyes, she thought— blue like the sky on a sunny day. Those eyes held such kindness, such soft compassion. They had been one of the first things that made Claire know he was a good man. 

As soon as Jamie saw her face, which must have been wet with tears by now, he let out a pained sound. His big hands let go of her and untwined from her body so that he could lift them to cup her cheeks, the thumbs swiping at the falling tears. 

“What’s wrong, mo nighean donn?” he asked, his face soft with concern. 

The tenderness there made Claire’s breath hitch and the silent tears fall even faster. 

“I— I’m sorry—” she suddenly felt very foolish to have woken him, without even a good reason, “I just… woke up scared. And then I remembered...” 

There was a mere second for her to berate herself over her behavior before understanding crossed Jamie’s face and assuaged Claire’s embarrassment. Jamie had an amazing knack for making her feel that he understood and hurt with her without making her feel pitied. This kind of empathy was something Claire had never really experienced before she met him. 

It was with that empathy that he met the tide of her grief.

“Come here,” he said softly. 

He pulled her closer and his hand settled on the back of her head to press her face into the crook of his neck. She went willingly. The skin of his neck felt warm and silky under her teary eyes, and she let more drops fall onto the offered canvas of his body. She wasn’t actively crying like she had the previous day when the realization hit her, just quietly addressing her loss, releasing pent up tears that seemed to have been inside her all night. The nighttime was when fears always preyed, darkness and loneliness reminding one of their greatest insecurities, but she was lucky not to be alone. 

Both of his arms encircled her, but one of his hands was free enough to rub comforting circles into her back. His hands were so big, she marveled at the feeling and strength of them— so reassuring. Grounding her. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. Her lips barely brushed the skin of his collarbone as she spoke. 

“Dinna be sorry,” his deep voice was a vibration in his chest that she could feel from how she laid on him, pressed so tightly against his body, “I’m here.” 

That made her feel a thousand times better. As much turmoil as she’d been through in the past couple of days, he was her light— her anchor. She somehow trusted him with everything inside her. 

She’d known him to be trustworthy from the first time she touched him. Before that, when he’d knelt a short ways away from her on the moor, she’d noticed the kindness in his eyes, the truth in his words, and the deference in his posture that indicated he meant her no harm. That all made her less wary. But the first time she’d truly known was when she’d touched his face and felt that warm rush of security and gentleness, more powerful than she’d ever felt before. There was a connection between them that was completely novel to Claire but nonetheless reassuring. From that second on, Jamie had been hers, and she his. 

As she wept against him now, she couldn’t help but believe his earnest words. Everything would be okay. As long as he was there to hold her, to protect her, she could survive. 

Comfort. 

He continued to embrace her long after her tears had dried. With infinite patience, he simply offered his body to her, wrapping himself around her as if he could block out her pain. She was loathe to move away from him and the safety he provided, but the sun was up— light was filtering through the window indicating late morning— and she needed to face the day. 

She lifted her face from his shoulder and locked eyes with him. 

“Thank you,” she said softly. She hoped he knew all the unspoken things those words held— thank you for saving me, for caring for me, for holding together my broken pieces, for letting me drop into your life like this and never complaining once…

He must have known, because he gave her a smile that made her knees feel like jelly and said simply but with a weight of regard, “ye’re welcome.” 

They got up slowly. Claire parted from Jamie reluctantly, but sat up nonetheless, allowing him to stretch and then set off. Watching him, all the high emotions from the night before seemed to dissipate, and she was left feeling more like herself again. Jamie seemed to have a routine that he followed every morning, and Claire followed him, interested to watch what exactly he was doing. 

First, he padded sleepily to the little place with the “shower”, scratching the back of his head where some of his beautiful red curls were sticking up adorably. He’d left the “door” open, but Claire wasn’t entirely sure he knew she was there as he made the water appear (she still had no idea how it did that!) and put a small stick thing under it. Then, he raised the stick and started to rub it inside his mouth. She recoiled a little in disgust, wondering if this was something like “eating”, but upon closer inspection, it seemed to be something different entirely. It lasted only another few seconds before he leaned down and washed his face under the little waterfall. When he straightened up again, his eyes met hers in the strange reflective surface, and he turned suddenly toward her. 

“Claire!” he exclaimed, “I didna realize ye were there. Ehm… I hafta take a shower. Would you mind givin’ me a bit of time?” His eyebrows were raised apologetically as he thrust a thumb in the direction of the “shower.” 

With a nod and a smile she hoped looked reassuring, she said, “Of course!” 

She didn’t want to impose on him, and he’d been spending nearly every second with her. He was obviously reluctant to leave her on her own, but she wanted him to know that she’d be fine. 

He gave her a nod, still looking a bit guilty, and then shut the bathroom door, separating them. A second later, she heard the sound of rain and figured he was beginning the shower. 

Left to her own devices, she headed down. She was still a little hesitant about descending the odd hill that led down to the other level— the blocky shapes on it seemed easy to slip on— but she held tightly to the little trees that lined either side. 

When she’d finally made it down, the grey “cheetie” Adso was sitting in the middle of the place Jamie called “the living room” and looking up at her with big green eyes. 

“Hello my friend!” she exclaimed happily as she sat down to run her fingers through his soft fur. He rumbled beneath her hands, making her giggle a little, and she spent a few moments completely absorbed with Jamie’s companion. He must have been loyal to Jamie— she thought— to choose to spend all his time inside with him instead of out on the moors. 

As she stroked his soft fur, thoughts of her future crept into her mind, unbidden. Thinking more than a few days ahead was complete madness, so she limited herself to worrying about this day and its troubles. Jamie would honor his promise and take care of her, but if she was going to be here for any amount of time, she needed to really start learning about this world. She didn’t particularly care for the feeling of helplessness that was her ever-present companion; she wanted to become competent and hopefully one day reciprocate Jamie’s care. With a hardening resolve, she decided that today she would be brave. She would learn everything Jamie would teach her and take as many steps as she could toward her new life. 

It wasn’t long before Adso grew bored of her. Just as she had made up her mind, he abruptly hopped to his feet and pranced off, tail flicking in goodbye. 

Claire wasn’t sure what to do next. She would have liked to go back and feel the warm wind (what was it Jamie had called it— “space heater”?), but she wasn’t sure how much heat it could possibly have trapped inside of it and thought probably best to save it. Glancing around the room in search of inspiration, her gaze fell on the window. 

It was a beautiful day— the sun illuminating the terrain with its bright colors, not even a hint of the usual Scottish greys of clouds and drizzle. It was the perfect opportunity to tend to Jamie’s plants (which were sorely in need of a good touch). And if doing something she was good at helped her to feel more competent and useful in this world, all the better for it. 

She headed outside right away. Kneeling down in the dirt, the slight tension inside her eased. She was in her element. Her hands instinctively reached for the plants, classifying to herself, cataloguing their needs in her brain, and simply touching in order to better sense them. 

It wasn’t long before she grew lost in her endeavors. There were some invasive plants— dreadful, malicious things that didn’t even belong in Scotland, she knew— that she began to pull up and toss aside. Their roots were strong, but she could feel them choking the life from the others and pulled hard. Her hands grew dirty in her efforts but she didn’t mind; it was only evidence of her making a difference. The sun rose even higher in the sky as she worked, but she was paying no attention to anything around her. She finally felt a sense of value again as she freed the plants from the choking hold of the invaders.

Her tranquility was suddenly shattered when a loud bang came from the direction of the house. Claire jolted upright, dropping her weeds, and her head whipped toward it. 

Jamie stood just outside, his fiery hair aglow in the sun but beautiful blue eyes blown wide in panic and fixed on her. Seeing his tension, she thought for an instant that something was terribly wrong. Was something after him? Come to harm them? She had no idea the dangers of the human world. 

But then he was suddenly racing toward her, eyes never leaving her the whole time. He fell on his knees beside her and scooped her into an embrace. Bewildered, she didn’t resist as he clutched her to his chest, hugging so tightly it was nearly hard to breathe. 

“Christ, lass!” he burst out, “I looked everywhere for ye and couldna find ye. I thought maybe ye’d run off or somethin’d happened and—” He was breathless as he spoke, and Claire could feel his chest heaving against her as he tried to calm himself down. 

“I was only out here,” was all she could think to say. 

Jamie pulled back a little so he could look down at her, but made no move to let her go. She didn’t particularly mind— she liked being in his arms and wished he’d hold her all the time, but she was disturbed by how upset he seemed. He studied her for a long moment, eyes sweeping over her as if ensuring she was alright. 

“Ifrinn,” he muttered suddenly, face softening from an expression of frantic worry into a more gentle concern, “ye’re shakin’ like a leaf. How long have ye been out here, a nighean? And wi’ out a coat? Ye’re cold as ice.” 

Claire wasn’t sure what a “coat” was, but at his words, she realized that she was freezing. He was right— her whole body trembled in that odd way it had ever since she’d touched the stones. She furrowed her brow in discomfort. The cold was the worst. 

Jamie was muttering something under his breath and rubbing his hands up and down her arms. On one pass, they traveled further down and caught her hands in his, heedless of the dirt caked on them. He squeezed, and Claire was taken aback at just how warm they were. 

“Come now. Inside,” he told her, his tone indicating there was no room for argument. 

He all but hauled her up and tugged her toward the house. Her hand was clasped in his, so the tension that lingered in his body was apparent to her. 

The moment they were inside, Jamie whirled to face her. He snagged the soft fabric (what was it called again— blankit?) from the couch and, facing her all the while, raised his arms over her head to wrap it around her shoulders. The forceful movement of him swaddling her brought her closer to him, and he pulled the edges tight together so she was wrapped completely. Her trembling hadn’t eased in the slightest, if anything it was getting worse now that she was back in the warmth of the house, so she was grateful for the comfort. 

But that sense of gratitude didn’t stay long. 

“Christ, lass,” Jamie was saying, voice giving way to frustration, “ye canna go wanderin’ like that.” 

His hands waved wildly in a grand gesture of “wandering”, as if she had walked all the way back to her forest instead of just out back. 

“I was only just outside,” Claire protested. 

She took a step backward so Jamie wasn’t so close to her. She didn’t like the emotions radiating from him. He seemed red to her, like the heat of the sun— energy roaring within. 

“Aye, but ye didna say a word about it tae me first. Anythin’ could have happened to ye,” Jamie shot back. 

Claire felt her nerves fraying at the tone of his voice. 

“I’m capable of taking care of myself,” she spat, bristling. 

“Are ye, then?” His tone teetering just into the realm of mocking, “Because—”

That put her over the edge. She dropped the blanket from her shoulders and stalked back toward him, fire in her belly. 

“You treat me like I’m just some foolish child! Like I’m this fragile thing about to break if I’m alone for one moment. I may not know everything about your world, but I’ve taken care of myself my whole life. I don’t need you!” The last words burst from her mouth in her fury, lashing out with a shot aimed right at his heart. 

But the moment she said them, she wished she could grab them out of the air and shove them back in. Jamie seemed to instantly crumple. It was as if she’d struck him with her fists rather than her words, the “I don’t need you” a killing blow. He deflated, all the tight muscles in his shoulders uncoiling as he slumped back against the couch heavily and slid a little further down to sit on it. His big blue eyes looked up at her with the most heartbroken expression she’d seem in her life. And it tore her to pieces. 

Even worse… to know it was her that had caused him such anguish. 

“I ken ye can take care of yerself…” he said, very softly, all the fight completely gone out of him, “I’m sorry that I made ye feel like I didna think that. It’s jes’ that I was sae worrit when I couldna find ye, I thought I’d maybe lost ye forever and… I overreacted.”

Nearly the exact same way Jamie had gone limp after her words tore through him, his soft confession knocked all the air from her lungs. Any remaining fight in her was gone, leaving only the hollow feeling of regret. 

She hesitantly knelt down in front of him. After his declaration, he’d braced his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. As she settled herself between his legs, she gently took both of his wrists and forced him to raise his head to look at her. 

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, that being the most important thing that she was dying to ensure he knew, “I overreacted too. The truth is... it scares me how much I do need you—” 

His beautiful eyes peered searchingly into hers, as if desperate for a confirmation on her face that she was telling him the truth. She couldn’t help but reach a hand up and lightly cup his cheek, caressing his face softly. Her touch was fueled by a yearning to feel close to him again as much as to comfort him. 

From the second she’d met him, she’d felt a connection to him down to her very soul. They were bonded, the two of them. And now she’d found herself falling for him. And in the face of that— and the desperate need for him that scared her to her core— she’d lashed out. 

“I dinna ken why…” Jamie started, very slowly, “but ever since I found ye on that hill, I’ve felt this… compulsion… to keep ye safe. To care for ye and protect ye from anythin’ that might steal that bonny smile from yer face. I’m sorry that I went too far. I wish I could jes’ tuck ye into my coat like a wee cheetie and carry ye with me against my chest, but I ken that’s no’ what ye need. I’ve been selfish, Sassenach. If I coddled ye, it was only because I needed it, not you. But I wasna lookin’ to see how it hurt you. Ye’re incredibly brave, mo nighean donn, and strong. Dinna ever believe otherwise, or think that I believe otherwise…” 

Tears shimmered in his eyes, and she felt a matching sheen in her own. The pressure was building inside her, a lump in her throat matching the coil in her belly. 

It surprised her when the next words came tumbling out of her mouth, a hasty confession she hadn’t meant to see the light of day—

“I don’t feel very brave.” 

It was the truth, of course. She’d been a mess this whole time. Unable to bear the weight of separation from her people, clinging to Jamie as her lifeline. Without him, she would have surely shattered…

She was interrupted from these thoughts by Jamie sliding down onto the floor in front of her so they knelt face-to-face. His big hands came up to cradle her jaw, forcing her to meet his eyes. Then, he began to speak, somehow achieving the perfect balance of firm conviction and gentleness. 

“But ye are, a nighean. Ye are here, and ye’re still goin’. That’s brave.” 

His words hung in the air— short, simple, but as poignant as a stone throw. 

She nodded, too choked up to give any further reply. 

It was then that he hugged her. Smashed her to his chest, his arms wrapping around her middle, solid as trees, and holding her to him as if he was scared she would disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. Her own arms had been trapped between them during his sudden movement, but she managed to wriggle them free to bring them around his shoulders and embrace him in return. 

She felt anchored suddenly— as if she’d been floating in the sky, subject to the fancies of the wind, before this strange man had suddenly reached up and pulled her back down to solid ground. 

All thoughts of the home that had been lost suddenly disappeared from her mind as Jamie held her. Because it was thoughts of her new home— her home with him— and the hope that accompanied them that filled her mind instead. 

“You know… I think I’d actually quite like to be a cheetie wrapped in your coat,” she tremulously joked, her voice muffled from how her mouth was pressed into the fabric at his shoulder. 

Jamie let out a laugh that vibrated through him and into her— a clear, unrestrained sound like the way the loch ripples when a stone plunks into it. She wished to herself that she could hear it forever— to spare him from any pain like the kind she’d just inflicted upon him. 

In that moment, she knew she loved him. 

***

Next

[hecohansen31]

Secrets Whispered

Michael Langdon x Secretive! Reader

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

Long time no see, right?

I just thought about this idea, since @guiltyfiend (also please do let me know, when you know what you prefer what you’d like as your ko-fi reward!) made me an amazing ship based about this concept and I just couldn’t wait to do something about it.

I am also personally, maybe (since I don’t feel apprecciated in the other fandoms I am in) of making a few comebacks in this fandom, if any of you would like iit obviously!

So, please, if you want more, don’t forget to leave some kind of feedback I truly apprecciate it from the bottom of my heart and it’ll truly make my heart beat stronger and my fingers write faster!

Don’t ever ever forget to support your beloved writers with feedback, if you liked what they wrote!

Have a nice reading!

SUMMARY: Michael is immediately fascinated by you as there are just too many mysteries around you.

WORDS: 2,9 K

WARNINGS: Mention of Trauma, Mention of The End of The World, Apocalypse-Antichrist and all that stuff, Also I am just extremely rusty about writing Michael, so please do bear with me if this sucks...

Michael had noticed immediately how you stood out of everyone else in the Outpost he had been ‘examining’.

It wasn’t some kind of ‘cheery and flashy standing out’, like many of the women and men that threw themselves at his feet or thought to impress him with a few sassy words that would get them instead on his nerves.

No, you simply stood out, because you didn’t try anything to impress him.

And no one in the Outpost seemed to truly know you.

Which was very strange for a group of people that had passed six months with only the company of each other in a closed off place, but whenever he’d question people about their relationships with you, he’d receive always the same answer.

They didn’t know nothing more than him.

You weren’t certainly shy, since you liked chattering with others  next to the fireplace, but there was some mindless rhythm to the conversation that made it particularly difficult for him to discover much about you, since he couldn’t help but feel like you used soft and polite words as a shield.

So, he couldn’t lie when he admitted to you that he had been looking forward to the interview.

Your eyes had ducked immediately down to your hands, a slight blush on your cheeks, but he knew that you weren’t simply faking modesty.

In all truth what you were doing was simply hiding your reaction to him.

To avoid giving yourself away.

He had known back then that it would be quite the power struggle with you and when he had started questioning you, all he had gotten were curt but short answers.

‘Is your name…?’ ‘Yes’.

‘… and your parents are…’ ‘Yes’.

‘… before the whole Apocalypse, you worked at a local library, didn’t you?’ ‘It was actually a bookshop, sir’.

And it was almost unnerving, hadn’t Michael, as always felt, like there was some thrilling challenge in your words and secretive demeanor, but his haughty tone had quickly shifted, when an answer of yours had surprised him.

‘Why, Mrs. (L/N), should you be chosen for the Sanctuary’ he had asked, hoping it would get him some kind of reaction from you, and it had.

Your head had finally pushed itself up to meet his eyes, immediately latching themselves onto Michael’s light blue.

‘… I don’t think that I even want to go to the Sanctuary, sir’ there was some kind of innocence in your reply that would have sounded arrogant from anybody else, hadn’t it been, like in your case, the utter truth ‘… for me it isn’t a question of deserving it, sir’.

The added words had certainly meant to somehow soothe the veiled insult the previous ones had uttered behind themselves.

‘Why do you think such an unconventional thing, little dove?’ the nickname this time got an honest shade of red placing itself on your cheek ‘… must I remind you that one of the few rules I’d like all the residents to follow is to be sincere to the core?’.

But he knew you weren’t lying.

And yet, it would have been easier if you had.

Although he strangely didn’t want this to be easier, because he liked complicated people, even more in a situation like this one, one in which everybody seemed so dull in the face of the end of the world.

But you were anything but dull underneath that defied appearance.

‘I am sincere’ there was fire in what you said, like it thoroughly burned in your heart.

Like you believed it wholeheartedly.

And Michael liked that.

‘… I just…’ now slowly something intimate and personal was coming on your face ‘… if this world had come to an end, is it natural that we continue on living on borrowed time?’.

There was such a longing ache in your words, as if you knew that they were true and yet you hadn’t ever had the courage to utter them, because they would have sounded foolish.

And they would have to anybody but Michael.

He also lived on borrowed time.

‘Humans ache for survival’ he commented, loving the contrast that your eyes made at hearing those words ‘… in any way or shape. It’s a natural instinct’.

‘And yet survival isn’t living’ you spoke softly, your head slowly turning away to look around yourself, as if you had again to hide your true self and Michael couldn’t help but be almost wounded by the move that meant a backward step in your journey.

He had been interested when this conversation had started with you, but now he was… almost enamored with what you had said.

What you hid so attentively, guarding it as a dragon would do with his own treasure.

‘It isn’t the same thing, you are right’ the low tone of his voice was enough to regain your attention ‘… but isn’t surviving better than staying outside where the toxic air would kill you, in a few minutes?’.

And now sadness crept on your face, alongside tiredness, as if you already knew what would be happening, next.

What Michael would have said.

And you were tired of it.

And it was enough to get your blood boiling, in a wonderful reaction in front of Michael’s eyes, happy to have gotten under your skin, but what you said hit him deep inside.

‘I must seem selfish for thinking this way…’ your voice was low, but it had an edge to it that brought, this time, Michael to focus his attention on you ‘… but I never asked to be saved, some people just stormed in my house, because they said I had some kind of special blood… and they… they took me, meanwhile my whole family died’.

He would have laughed in the face of everyone, had they said something similar, because he knew that it was all a show to convince him.

But you thought that truly.

‘There are millions of people better than me, and I got fucking lucky to be the only one to be here, alone and useless…’ now you were through your own ‘delirium’ and although Michael had been desperately looking to dig in your own soul, he felt like he had just hit a moment that was too private.

Maybe a bit too much.

‘… I am not the one you want to bring to the Sanctuary. If the world has come to an end, it must mean something’.

That Michael’s plan had worked.

But he almost felt guilty for it.

‘… I am sorry’ the words were now quiet, as the others you had uttered echoed deeply in the walls of his small private quarters ‘… it must… I must have misspoken myself’.

‘Oh no no’ his tone was rushed and although he knew that he was showing her something that he had always kept inside of himself, treasuring them attentively ‘… had all the interviews been as interesting as yours, Mrs. (Y/N)’.

Strangely the words weren’t of any comfort to you, although Michael accompanied it with a soft smirk on it, definitely less devious than the one he had for other people.

But he guessed he must have still looked like a wolf clothed in sheep clothes.

‘… is this over?’.

Whatever he had gained through the interview had somehow been completely dispersed, now and you looked like you desperately wanted to go away, somehow, probably because whatever mask had been held in place was now shattered on the ground.

‘Yes, it is’ and he hadn’t ever seen somebody raise that fast with a full set of petticoats ‘… but, I’d like to talk to you, more, Mrs. (Y/N)’.

A bitter smile was now on your face.

‘There are better people in here’ you spoke, and he detected finally something that you had hidden for so long: insecurity.

And as much as he wanted to desperately use it against you: he couldn’t bring himself to.

‘… more deserving of the Sanctuary’.

‘I’ll take that into consideration, if you don’t have any other suggestion for me on how to do my job’.

‘Again, my mouth speaks words that I don’t truly mean…’.

It was almost adorable the way you rushed to apologize.

But there was no fear in your eyes.

It was a first.

‘… I was joking’.

A breath of relief still escaped your lips, and as soon as it had appeared it was now gone.

‘I didn’t think that the devil could joke’.

And your last words effectively knocked the air out of his lungs.

Michael knew for sure that you had been avoiding him, probably uncomfortable with what you had shared with him.

Or better what he had forced you to share.

You’d leave supper early, as soon as he joined it and you’d rush your step whenever you met him in the corridors.

And it was such a shame, since he wanted to get to know you better.

So, he had planned like some kind of idiotic male a small strategy to meet you alone in the library, that afternoon, stalking attentively every step of your day, soon realizing that you visited the enormous local at least once a day, after lunch so that you could unwind and another time after dinner, setting up the book that your fellow housemates had left everywhere in the room.

You had an order of your own and you respected it almost maniacally.

A routine of some kind and Michael took advantage of it, catching you as you were completely taken by a reddish volume in your hands a pile of half-forgotten books adjusted beside you, as if you had suddenly been taken by the impulse to search through the pages of the book.

He wondered whether they had asked for you and you hadn’t been able to deny the claim of the paper.

‘… interesting reading?’ he had startled you, and you had immediately closed the book, almost risking to hit your nose, meanwhile Michael wasn’t able to stop a laugh from leaving his mouth  and you lowered your head to hid an embarrassed annoyance on your elegant face.

He had carved its traits in his pillow as he dreamt, a tormented dream of you standing right on the pillow next to him, staring at him longingly but resistance always matched it, in your eyes.

‘… definitely is’ you commented, meanwhile you turned the book so that he could look at his title, the defiance in your gestures didn’t have to speak loudly for it to be fully understood ‘… ‘The Scarlet Letter’ by Nathaniel Hawthorne, have you ever read it?’.

Michael had been a child when books had entered his life in silly fairy tales that his grandmother and then his ‘adoptive mother’ had started telling him, as they slowly got darker by the time grew into the figure he had been shaped in since childhood.

But as he had grown up, he had swiftly forgotten the pleasure of reading, different things occupying his mind and he hadn’t ever had a break to properly catch up with human literature, alongside.

And because of that and much more, he had to admit it that the passion of reading had slipped outside of his fingers quite early.

‘I sadly must say that I haven’t’.

Unsurprisingly insolence stayed on your face.

But it was also some kind of teasing innocence.

‘… it is actually an interesting and timeless story’ you explained, a twinkle of easiness on your face ‘… slutshaming is still very much real in here, since Venable would also oblige us to wear a scarlet letter on our chest, would she ever find out that somebody had sex with somebody else in here’.

Michael wondered whether you were you such a smartass always or only in the book department.

Either way, Michael enjoyed it thoroughly.

You seemed slightly less guarded off in the library and he could only guess that it felt the same way he felt in his own private chamber.

Hidden behind his extravagant clothes and his father’s influence.

‘You think that those rules are ridiculous’ it wasn’t a question and yet you nodded lightly ‘… well, I do find them a bit antique myself’.

‘You’d expect the dresses would be a torture enough’ you muttered, as you shot his a softer look ‘… and the poor Greys… it is almost… horrible how they are treated… very Charles Dickens’.

There was a light twinkle of madness as you said that and he could clearly see that although you had admitted that you didn’t want to go to the Sanctuary, you weren’t neither interested in staying here further.

‘Have you ever thought about stopping your survival instinct’ he wanted to ask you, but he knew that one wrong question would destroy all the soft climate that had appeared between you two, so he preferred to steer the conversation on human literature, something that got you quite passionate.

And he admired that love and that passion.

To be loved with such intensity it must have a thoroughly miraculous experience.

And he dreamt about it that night.

The following day he found himself in the library again and soon enough he discovered much more than your literary tastes.

He discovered your favorite colors and as he dressed himself up each morning, he wore them,  discovering that they immediately caught your eyes, in a way that seemed like some kind of animal mating ritual.

What had the Antichrist reduced himself to be just for the touch of a small flame of your love?

A complete actor and a clown at your service,

But slowly the ice in your personality started melting and he found that you had started to lean on his company as if you enjoyed it, encouraged it, even, although this didn’t mean that you had opened up to him in any way of shape.

And by this time Michael wasn’t sure whether you’d ever open up to him.

But you had your own way of showing devotion and interest.

Exactly as he did.

Once he had gotten quite along with you, he had given you his ring as a way to show that he somehow trusted you.

As a way to get you to know that he felt respect for you, although it was all hidden behind the premise of you ‘taking care of it’.

But it was a different show of rank and also it was a show of devotion and interest.

And when you had started wearing it, on a small chain around your neck, the pendant coming slowly to set itself on your chest whenever you stood up, in a way that made it pass unnoticed to everyone except you two.

And soon your crush had flared up.

Michael had been shocked when you had moved closer to him, in one of his afternoon library session, as you closed the book you were reading, ‘Pride and Prejudice’ one of your favorites definitely.

‘… you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire you’ you had said loudly, almost as if you were sure this would be a big fail or an even bigger success, and then you had moved closer to him, something shy and clumsy in your antics as you pressed your lips against his.

And Michael, exactly like a clumsy teenager, as well was slow in his reply to you, pawing your shoulder harshly but you still kept your lips locked a few minutes more to make sure that it wasn’t an accident.

And when you separated you were looking at him expectantly.

‘… isn’t that what I am supposed to say?’ he asked softly, a small smile on your face, softness and genuineness appearing in both your faces.

‘I just thought that I am more Mr. Darcy between us two’ you commented and Michael suddenly felt very surprised by the fact that you knew about your behavior, your secretiveness and your shyness, the walls that blocked him from properly getting to know you ‘… it is just that… you are… you are not who I expected to fall in love with’.

A strange rage had filled him at that, matched with an uneasy annoyance at himself.

It was always the same story: he got rejected.

And you didn’t even know he was the antichrist.

‘… you definitely looked out of my league’ there was a glint of amusement in your eyes and a peak of relief in Michael’s chest as he came closer to you, the second kiss being definitely less messy than the first one, and the one that followed after.

And the one after.

And before he knew it you were both in his chambers, completely disrupting Venable’s rule about fornicating with each other.

And it felt good.

And those walls that you had up had come down, since you had let him in yourself in a way that had made him feel almost understood, as you fought for dominance and power under the sheets, before it settled in a small victory on his part.

Although from the moans, you definitely enjoyed it.

And now you were simply enjoying the quiet.

The quiet before the storm, since he knew that he couldn’t deny the true nature of his powers, anymore to you.

But he could delay the reveal a bit, as you smiled at him.

And your smile held the sweetest of secrets.

And he was glad he hadn’t solved each one you held.

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Michael Langdon Taglist (I don’t really have a taglist anymore, so if you are interested on being there for Michael do let me know, and I’ll add you, if I ever think about writing something for him again!):

@blakewaterxx​

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