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stalkedbytrains · 7 months ago

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Beneath the Electric Sky, Chain One: Preload

[I originally had this whole plan for this story and I had started writing it in third person like most of my stuff is done. But then I wasn't feeling, skipped over huge sections of it. I then had an idea to change the perspective, stick it in Synthia's POV and ever since then I've been off to the races. This is the first chapter that had been previous posted, redone with the new perspective.]

Sequence One: Specialization

The city's atmospheric regulators were working overtime, venting steam from deep underground. The entire city was bathed in steam and fog as the city tried to deal with the never-ending climate crisis and the still active fallout.

It made it very hard to do surveillance on the building, but did provide me with excellent cover. Not that I really needed it.

But the time crunch was against us. I hate a time crunch.

With the winds coming from the East and blowing the radiation this way, everything had gotten truly fucked. Without the surveillance I couldn't track the impossible assassin. This whole thing was turning into a logistical nightmare.

Just to make absolutely sure I turned the rifle over to what I could see of the perimeter of the building. Hyper advanced military grade turrets ring the building. A small army of fanatical, highly trained members of the Illuminated Path cult. And even worse I could still spot the edges of the slightly invisible EMP generators. Powerful electromagnets that would fry anything with a circuit that tried to get within 100 yards of the building without proper authorization.

It would kill me.

If I even got close to the fields my body would shut down and I'd slowly go brain dead trapped within the shell of my body.

With the damn steam I couldn't see the top of the building, so what defensive measures were up top were a mystery which made anything I tried to do to get into the building essentially useless.

Stealth, insertion, infiltration, and sniping were my expertise. But none of those would let me get even close to the building, close to the target.

I was going to need to get an inside man. Someone inside of the goddamn paranoid cult that was extremely picky about who they let get close, and have so many deep background scans of their employees to make sure no one is turning traitor that it was going to be all but impossible.

Well not impossible, but I didn't have the six months to get close enough.

I was going to need a ringer.

And that meant I was going to have to talk to Seth.

[00·000]

I made it back to the tiny headquarters in the city. It was basically a two bedroom apartment that we had taken over and reformatted to our purposes. I sat at the table, idly disassembling and reassembling my rifle.

"What about a HALO jump? Get in over their defenses?" Seth asked.

Seth was nominally my partner, but I knew that the bosses sent him to keep his eyes on me. Keep me within the Collection.

"We can't see what they've got on the roof. The weather has been absolute shit the last few days and there's no sign of it getting any better in the next few days. We can't afford to wait a few more days. They already know that we are coming for them. Besides HALO jumps are fine, but we're talking about hitting the courtyard of a building. Which is not necessarily the easiest target to hit when falling at terminal velocity. Even if there are no roof defenses, if I'm off on my jump by a little bit I'm smashing into the side of a neighboring building at 120 miles an hour."

Seth rubbed his shitty beard. It made him look like an idiot. "Yeah. So there's no good way in?"

"Not unless you can see something. And I can't lie my way in, since they know what we look like since the fucking debacle with the cops."

He gave me a hard look.

"You can't even remotely blame that bullshit on me," I snapped. "We have strict orders to bring the assassin in, and the cops came in guns blazing absolutely burning that bridge. The assassin shot me three times!"

"So what do you suggest? A tactical nuke?"

I gave him just as flat of a look as he gave me. "We need an inside man, but again, this cult is paranoid as all hell, their members are scrutinized within an inch of their lives constantly. And Arc is still having no luck with his job so maybe you jump his ass about his hacking."

Seth just glared at me. It was clear he was blaming me and had no intention of saying anything to the hacker in the other room who has coming up against just as many brickwalls as I was.

"What do you suggest? There's no other Collection agents on this coast. You want to get some outside help? You?"

"I have friends?"

"Really? You? There's someone out there you haven't gotten killed or personally murdered?"

"Io has known me a very long time. He's one of the great con men, and he's in the city right now. He also has the added benefit of being almost completely human. If he does get caught in the EM field he's not just going to die immediately like I would. Like you would."

Set frowned. "Fine. We don't have many other options and we need this wrapped up quickly. But if this goes sideways, even a little bit, I'm torching this friend of yours."

I sneered at him. Like I would let that happen.

"You know where to find him?" he asked.

"I have a pretty good idea."

[00·001]

There was a black tie party happening at the penthouse of the extremely wealthy socialite and minor celebrity Mason Filmont. The man had a penchant for buying rare and expensive per-singularity technology, and he was both stupid and an asshole, which was Io's favorite target.

Sneaking into the party was extremely easy. It was a party, there was a certain expectation of people coming and going.

I put on a dress I was able to buy real quick along with some appropriate shoes. Not my ideal outfit, but the perfect camouflage for getting into the party.

I'd know Io from before everything. It had been somewhere around twenty years since we were last face-to-face, but we were in a lot of shit together back in the day, so hopefully he wouldn't mind seeing an old friend. Even if that old friend had a new body and new face.

"You know I'm worried about all of these gang killings," I heard one of the group that was standing around Io say.

I approached with a glass of champagne in hand. "I know, dreadful isn't it? But it isn't nearly as bad as those killings back in Dallas twenty years ago. Hundreds of people were killing and a black out that lasted over a week. Now that was something to worry about."

The group looked curiously at me. I smiled sweetly at them, not making eye contact directly with Io, at least not yet.

I was slightly out of place and they knew it, the dress I had on was expensive but not tailored perfectly, it wasn't custom nor was it designer. But I didn't let it affect me. I wore it well all the same.

Even still the group parted to let me in. I've been told that there has always been something about my bearing or aura or whatever that make people give me a wide berth. It always worked out for me.

I finally caught Io's eye and he was studying me closely, trying to figure me out, so I winked at him.

"And you are?" one of the rich ladies to my left asked.

"Synthia," I told her. "Spelled like synthetic. And female pronouns if you don't mind."

Io moved pretty quickly after I introduced myself.

"If you don't mind," he said grabbed me by the elbow, "she's an old friend and we should really catch up." His smile was charming and disarming, and his tone was easy. I could tell he was surprised and a little mad, but he played it off so well.

"Congratulations," he said as we stopped at a balcony near a set of stairs heading down into the main party area of the penthouse.

"Thanks," I respond. "And you might be."

"You know it's me. Io, whatever pronouns, don't care. I haven't seen you in nineteen and a half years. And if I recall correctly it was because you were looking for-"

I hold up a finger to stop him. "I'm always been listened in on so be careful about what you say about before."

Io frown. He was upset, but he stayed put.

"And don't be like that. We've communicated here and there since then."

"That doesn't count." He sighed. "Well you look good. I mean you kept the hair color, which isn't surprising. You still look like you've not slept since I knew you."

I shrugged, not entirely sure what to say to that.

"You still in the military?"

I shook my head. "I got out of that a long time ago. New job, came with the whole new me thing. Super top secret."

"And so you just thought you'd drop in on your old friend Io for shits and giggles?"

"I mean, I've been keeping tabs. You seem to be doing good. Except for that fiasco over in Vegas last year."

"Was that you?"

"I may have made a call to drop that particular warrant," I shrugged. I take care of my friends, regardless of how much time has passed.

"I thought you were dead, or gone, or spirited away to some black site prison. After the shit that you pulled I thought they got you for sure."

"They did."

"Fucking hell," Io said. He was about to say something but he cut himself off. "What's up? Why are you coming back to me now? Am I fucked? Am I being black-bagged?"

"No. I wouldn't let that happen," I said seriously. "I'm just in a severe problem right now and I need a favor."

"Of course. Why didn't that occur to me sooner? I'm on a job, a very delicate one, and I'm close to closing it."

"You're going to what? Steal Mason's cybertruck? That ugly fucking thing?"

"Yes, but that's not the main goal. I was going to steal it as part of the getaway. I mean it's a legendarily bad truck. And Mason has a fully restored 2025 model. I want to drive it so bad. It seems so terrible. But I was going to steal some other stuff. There's a couple of art pieces I have buyers for, and some old video game stuff I want for myself. Then I steal the truck."

I nodded. "I'm impressed. A step up fro the shit you pulled back in the day."

"You're being weirdly coy."

"They don't know a lot about me before I joined the military, and I aim to keep it that way."

"Then you contacting me is..."

"Very serious."

Io sighed, closes his eyes for a long moment, and finished off his champagne. "What's up?"

"You know those murders everyone is concerned with?"

"Yeah, some dude is killing gang leaders.

"And about a hundred other people. Ranging from war criminals to CEO's and randomly some dude in an apartment complex."

Io took a deep breath. "That's a lot of dead people. You know I don't do the violent stuff."

"Well the problem is that the murders are one guy."

"Hasn't this been going on for like one week? He's killed more than a hundred people in less than a week?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck. How do you think I can possibly help you?"

"This guy has some illegal tech I'm going to rip out of him. And he shot me three times."

Io hung his head, resting it on the metal railing of the nearby stairs. He knew what that meant. He knew that I could never let that stand.

"The thing is that I know where the headquarters is, where the cult that is support him is located."

"There's a cult too?" Io whined.

"Yeah."

"Balls."

"It's more religious fanaticism and shit and not like the people sacrificing kind."

"I'm really dreading when you get to the point where you ask me to do something."

"I just need you to open the door."

Io looked at me incredulously. I could feel him studying me, reading me like a mark. He was looking at me searching for the person from twenty years ago. I was still there, buried beneath layers and layers of machines and electronics.

I continued. "The entire area is surrounded by EM fields and guards and turrets and extreme paranoia. They know me because their assassin failed to kill me, so I can't walk in or use any of my usual methods. I can't even get close or I'm gonna die."

Io shuddered. "You really went down that route?"

"Yes." It was the simple answer, the correct one. "It gave me the one thing I've always wanted. The costs were higher than I ever knew, but it was still worth it."

"I love tech, just having it be inside me is gross."

"That's part of the reason why I'm here. You won't instantly die if you screw up like I will."

"How badly does this need to be done tonight?" Io asked as he looked around at the fancy party and the riches and old technology he longed to steal.

"Badly. We've got a very small window to strike before they realize that I'm not dead. If they move we're never getting to the assassin."

"Why not?" Io complained, even though I knew I had him.

"I'm fairly certain the assassin can teleport. So this is our one and only opportunity to get him in his home."

"Fuck me," Io said. "Let's go, but I hope I can at least get paid for this."

"The company has deep pockets."

Io moaned slightly as he didn't want to leave the party. "Don't tell me I'm actually doing work for the Company Company."

"The CIA? Those chucklefucks? Oh hell no."

Io heaved a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank god. They are really the worst."

"Yeah, and they've put out hits on me like three times," I told him as we left the party and went out to the car I had waiting out front.

As we climbed into the car Io turned to me and said, "So I have two questions for you."

"Why Synthia?"

I shrugged. "I thought it was funny."

Io rolled his eyes. "Yeah. That tracks. Second question: does Lorelei know you're alive?"

I swore, loudly and angrily. "No."

my kofi

#writeblr #original fiction #my fiction #beneath the electric sky

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chaosmagicss · 3 years ago

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little white lies (wanda maximoff x reader)

synopsis: wanda, the prettiest girl to ever walk into your work and order a coffee, is a terrible liar. you don’t have the heart to tell her.

warnings: wanda’s a bad liar but it’s okay bc she’s cute, mentions of bruising, basically just fluff, a teeny bit of hurt/comfort bc i can’t resist

words: 5.2k

a/n: sometimes you just need to write a cute little borderline-coffee-shop-au to feel something.

You meet Wanda Maximoff when she walks into your work at 2pm on a Wednesday and orders an iced latte.

Unsurprisingly, you make a fool of yourself, but who can blame you when she looks like that? You read the name on the cup, thinking pretty name when you call it out. As you approach the counter, you look up, and stupidly, the first thing to come out of your mouth when your eyes lock onto bright green eyes is, “Pretty face.”

The girl, Wanda, blushes and smiles - and wow - and your own face is warm as she says a soft, “Thank you.” You blink rapidly, eyes stuck on hers because dear lord even her voice is pretty. Your fingers clench around the plastic cup, and when the last thirty seconds finally catch up to you, you shake your head, eyes closing.

“I’m - I’m sorry,” you fumble, “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

Wanda’s smile grows, eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s alright,” she says, and god, that accent… Russian? Something Eastern European, definitely. “It’s flattering.”

You open your mouth to respond, say anything to keep this conversation going, when an excited little boy holding onto his mother’s hand points to the television in the corner and exclaims, “Look, Mom! Avengers!”

Immediately, everyone’s attention is drawn to the television. Even most adults - including yourself - aren’t immune to it. There’s a blurry video playing on screen, showing what looks like a woman flinging around bits of rubble all covered in a red sort of glow. The video steadies for a second as the girl turns around, seemingly to check on whatever group of bystanders she was protecting, and the face you can just make out looks suspiciously like…

You turn back to Wanda, and find an empty space.

She’s gone, her coffee still in your hand. You do a quick scan of the coffeehouse and as much of the street as you can see, and you find nothing. Damn it. You sigh softly, putting the coffee aside just in case she comes back before turning to the next customer.

Once you get back to your dorm, mind racing, you find yourself crawling into a hole on the Internet of videos and reddit threads on the Avengers’ newest recruits, of which two have been announced – James Rhodes, War Machine, army colonel; Sam Wilson, the Falcon, ex-pilot – and two who have yet to even be figured out by the general public. One of them, a young man, is lightning-fast, and the other is the young woman seen on the news earlier.

The deeper you dive, the more sure you become that the woman is Wanda, the prettiest girl you’ve ever served coffee.

Miraculously, she comes back to the coffeehouse two days later. Your heart skips when the middle-aged man steps away after paying and you see her there, a shy little smile on her face and, worryingly, a bruise on her cheek. You manage to get through this order without embarrassing yourself, but when she tries to pay for her coffee, you deny her.

“You left your last one here,” you reason, “this one’s on the house.”

“Oh,” she stammers, cheeks flushing again. “I - I couldn’t—”

“Really, it’s fine,” you insist. “It’s, like, 5 bucks outta my paycheck. I’ll live.”

She tilts her head a little. “I thought you said it was on the house.”

You frown, leaning both hands against the counter as you feign thoughtfulness, and Wanda smiles. “No, I’m not sure I did,” you say, looking back to her. “Definitely said it was on me.”

Wanda huffs a laugh. “Well, in that case, I definitely can’t accept it.”

You click your tongue, taking her card from her when she holds it out to you. Your eyes flick to the bruise again, and curiosity gets the better of you. “What happened?” you ask, waving a hand towards your own cheek.

Wanda blinks, confused for a moment, before, “Oh, Nat—” She stops, eyes widening just a fraction, and you smother a smile. One of the Avenger’s newest recruits is a terrible liar, so it seems. “—alie… Natalie. My boxing instructor. Personal trainer. She - I didn’t duck in time. Total accident.”

You nod, choosing not to comment on the deep flush on her cheeks or the way she’s looking anywhere but you, rocking anxiously on the heels of her feet. You take the chance to pay for her coffee while she’s not paying attention; what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

“Well, you might wanna tell Natalie to start pulling her punches,” you say, bringing your eyes back to hers as you slide her latte across the counter. “Can’t have her messing up a pretty face like yours.”

The comment earns you something similar to a squeak. You don't blame her; you honestly can’t believe the words came out of your mouth, let alone that steadily. Wanda - not the Avenger - nods, reaching out to swipe her coffee from the bench. “I’ll - I’ll let her know,” she says, not meeting your eyes. “I - uh, bye.”

You smile. “See ya.”

She’s back again the next day. The coffeehouse is mulling with only a handful of patrons; the ones that usually stick around until closing, and you’re so focused on watching the news that clearly shows that the new woman on the Avengers’ line-up is Wanda that you fail to notice she’s approaching the counter.

“Hey.”

You almost jump out of your skin. An amused smile tugs at her lips, and it takes a moment for you to pull yourself together. “Hey. Hi. Sorry. I, uh—” You throw the washrag out of sight, wipe your hands on your apron, and give her a winning smile. “What can I do ya for?”

She twists her lips, nails drumming against the countertop. “Uh, actually, I’m not here for coffee.” You frown, and she smiles just a little. “I was wondering, would you like to hang out? If you’re free, that is. Tonight, I mean. It’s fine if you’re not. I just - I’m new to the city and I kinda… need a friend. That isn’t my brother. That’s what Steve said, anyway.”

Ah, yes. Steve. Another person that Wanda knows who, miraculously, has the same name as one of the world’s most famous superheroes but isn’t at all involved with the Avengers, because Wanda isn’t. Clearly.

You smile at her, heart fluttering in your chest.

“I’d love to,” you confirm. “Hang out tonight, that is.” Wanda blushes, but lets out a relieved little chuckle, the tension visibly draining from her shoulders. “I finish up in about 15. Wait for me?”

“Yeah,” Wanda says. “Yeah, sure.”

For the next two months, hanging out with Wanda becomes at least a weekly thing. She meets you at your work after your shift to accompany you back to your dorm or she just meets you there, and the two of you hang out for hours. You show Wanda your favourite movies and have nights where you binge old sitcoms that Wanda adores. You go for walks through the closest park or find some diner to have dinner in after you see a movie. It quickly becomes your favourite part of the week, and if you aren’t together, you’re talking to her by some means. Ellie, your roommate, has taken to calling her your girlfriend, and the comment makes you blush every time, which is probably the reason she’s so keen on making it.

Wanda’s excuses and poor attempts at a cover up just get worse and worse as it goes on, but she never bites the bullet and just tells you that she’s actually a superhero, always finding some workaround whenever you make a leading comment. Maybe it should annoy you, but it really just… doesn’t.

Wanda is Wanda; it doesn’t matter to you that she’s an Avenger, or that she’s so adamant about hiding it. What worries you is the scrapes and bruises she has almost every time you see her, ones that she brushes off whenever you ask about them. The thought of someone hurting her twists your insides up despite the fact that she can very clearly take care of herself, if the shaky footage circling Twitter is any indication.

Your first ever real panic over it is the week that she just stops responding to your texts. It isn’t rare for her to take a day or so to respond to you, but when you text her asking if she wants to come over that weekend and the message goes unanswered for three days, you sort of start to freak out.

Even Ellie seems sort of worried, even though she does what she can to convince you that Wanda’s fine.

It’s the fifth day of no contact, and you’re trying to study in the library, distracted by the TV mutely playing a news coverage of the Avengers’ latest public escapade in Brazil, when your phone rings. You glance at it, prepared to just hang up and wait until later to call whoever it is back, but when Wanda’s caller ID is what you see, you practically leap for your phone.

“Hello?”

A few people around you lift their heads to give you a dirty look, but you pay them no mind, your heart pounding with an overwhelming emotion that you don’t really have a name for.

“Hi,” Wanda says, and your breath leaves you in a relieved rush, because she’s there and she’s okay. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t ignoring you, not on purpose, I just got caught up with a family emergency and there wasn’t any reception where we were and I feel like an asshole—”

“No, it’s fine,” you cut in. “It’s okay. As long as you’re safe. You’re okay, right? You aren’t hurt?”

“I—” There’s a pause, a sharp little intake of breath. “Yeah, no,” she fumbles out, and suddenly she sounds exhausted. “I’m fine. Of course I’m fine. No one’s hurt.”

“Okay,” you mutter, mostly to yourself. You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Okay. That’s good.”

A few seconds of silence, and then, “Do you, uh, still want to do something this weekend? It’s - it’s fine, if not.”

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “‘Course I do. Wanna come ‘round on Sunday? Just after midday?”

“Sounds good,” Wanda says softly.

“You sound tired,” you tell her. She hums softly, but says nothing. “You should get some sleep.”

She breathes in, out. “I like listening to your voice. Can you talk, or are you busy?”

You look at your desk, at the notebook and your laptop, and you know you should probably get this done now so you don’t have to worry about it later, but you also know you won’t get a drop of work done if you know talking with Wanda until she falls asleep was the alternative. So, still ignoring the annoyed looks being sent your way, you press your phone to your ear with your shoulder and scramble to pack your things away.

“I can talk,” you say. “What d’you wanna talk about?”

“Anything,” she replies. “Tell me a story from when you were growing up.”

She’s asleep by the time you get back to your dorm, after you’ve switched the call to a FaceTime, and you only hang up the phone once you’re getting into bed yourself.

The next day, when you walk into your dorm room after an evening-run, Ellie practically jumps you, shooting off the small couch. “Dude, have you seen what’s trending on Twitter?”

You frown, sitting on the small stool by the door so you can pull off your shoes. “Uh, no? Why, what is it?”

“Your girlfriend’s an Avenger!”

You’re on your feet in an instant, pulling her away from the doorway so you can shut the door, because she’s talking so loud. “What? What are you talking about?”

She shoves her phone in your face, and sure enough, the Daily Bugle’s latest tweet shows a photo of Wanda, headline reading “EXCLUSIVE: The two previously unnamed Avengers are Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, Sokovian orphans.”

You blow out a breath, pushing down Ellie’s phone. Your heart is pounding. “Daily Bugle reported it. You know half their shit isn’t true.”

“It’s been up for, like, an hour. The New York Times posted it too. And CNN. It’s her, dude.” You clench your jaw, watch as Ellie starts to scroll through whatever article she’s reading. “Jesus. A Stark bomb blew up her apartment in Sokovia when she was a kid. Killed her parents. She and her brother volunteered for human experimentation a few years ago… HYDRA operating as SHIELD until Captain America blew it all to shit—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you say sharply, snatching her phone out of her hand. Ellie lets out an affronted Hey! but you barely pay her any mind, pushing a hand back through your hair as you throw her phone onto the couch.

There’s a few seconds of silence before, “You already knew, didn’t you?”

“She didn’t tell me, but I - I had my suspicions. But she didn’t - it didn’t seem like it was something she wanted to talk about, so I never brought it up. She’s been through a lot of shit, Ellie, it’s awful that it’s just - out there, for everyone to read.”

“Okay,” Ellie relents, sitting on her bed. “Okay. Alright. I won’t read anymore. It’s probably gonna be taken down in like, a minute, anyway.” You nod, unable to meet her eyes. “Are you gonna… maybe you should call her.”

You blink, snapping yourself out of your head. “I, uh, yeah, I’ll text her. Just gonna have a quick shower, ‘cause I stink.”

You do as much, sending her a quick, call me when you can? hope you’re okay before stepping into the shower. You check your phone as you dry yourself off, heart twisting strangely when you don’t see any notifications from her. You sigh, pulling on your comfy clothes before stepping back into the main room.

“It got taken down,” Ellie says immediately. “Stark’s people are on it, dude. It’s literally disappearing as quickly as it comes up.”

Before you can respond, three knocks come to the door, rapid and almost panicked. You pull the door open the second you reach it, and your heart drops when you see Wanda on the other side of it.

And Jesus, she looks - she looks like a mess. Her eyes are brimming with tears, her whole body trembling. There’s a nasty bruise decorating the curve of her jaw and her left eyebrow is stitched up. Her face is blotchy from crying, her lips pulled into a pout as she tries to fight off another onslaught of tears.

She sucks in an uneven breath, and the sound snaps you out of your shock.

“Hey,” you fumble out, reaching for her wrist to pull her inside, and she all but falls into you, arms wrapping tight around your waist as sobs escape her, making her shoulders jolt. “Hey. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Sorry,” she gasps. “I’m sorry. I just - someone found out and spread it around and now everybody knows and, and, it’s all over the news. They know about mama and papa and the bomb, and I just - I don’t know—”

“It’s alright,” you ease, closing the door before smoothing a hand over her back. “It’s fine. Just breathe, alright? Match my breathing. Can you do that?”

She nods, fingers tightening in the back of your shirt as she hides against your shoulder, taking slow, deep breaths against you. Your eyes catch Ellie’s from where she’s sitting on her bed, her face pulled together in concern. Wanda takes her first steady breath, and leans further into you.

“I’m sorry,” she says again. “I’m sorry for lying. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about that,” you tell her, leaning back. Wanda lets you go, albeit reluctantly, wiping at her face with her sleeves.

“Can I - I mean - is it okay if… if I stay the night?” she asks, watery green eyes peering up into yours. You couldn’t say no even if you wanted to.

You nod gently, tucking an escaped strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Yeah,” you say softly. “Of course. Do… does someone know where you are?” She nods. “Okay.” You turn to face your roommate to find she’s already packing a bag. “Oh, Ellie, you don’t have to—”

“No, dude, it’s fine,” she says. “I’ll go stay in Harry’s room. Don’t stress. And I won’t - I won’t tell anyone. Obviously.”

Wanda swallows thickly. “Ellie, I’m - I’m sorry.”

Ellie flashes her a smile. “Really, it’s no biggie. I’ll be back in the morning, yeah? Lemme know if you need anything. Either of you.”

Wanda nods, and Ellie gives you the both of you a quick thumbs up before slipping out into the hall. Wanda exhales heavily, leaning back against your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, gently urging her back so you can lift your hands to her face, closely assessing the stitch on her brow. Worry makes your heart pound again; you know that bruises and bumps are apart of her job description, but knowing that doesn’t make seeing it any easier.

Wanda bites her lip, lifts a hand to grab yours, gentle fingers curling around your wrist. “It’s okay,” she whispers, “it’s not as bad as it looks. Doctor Cho stitched it up so I didn’t accidentally open it again. That’s all.”

You nod softly, pressing under her chin and angling her face so you can see the colourful bruise painting her jaw. Carefully, you brush your fingers over the skin, and Wanda shivers a little at the touch.

“That one feels as bad as it looks,” she whispers, and suddenly, with your fingers running feather-light over the bruise again, you’re smacked in the face with the urge to kiss it better. Wanda jolts a little in place, eyes snapping to yours with flushed cheeks, a barely audible, “Oh,” slipping past her lips.

Quickly, you drop your hand, thinking you must have hurt her. “Sorry,” you murmur.

Wanda shakes her head. “It’s okay.”

You swallow thickly, eyes dropping back to hers, and Wanda blinks slowly up at you. Your heart starts to pound for a whole different reason. You lick at your bottom lip, shake away the inappropriate thought and avert your eyes as you take her hand in yours and start to lead her towards your side of the room.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, as she’s sitting on the bed. “I didn’t - Ellie didn’t have to go.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you say, stepping over to your closet to find a pair of shorts for her. “If she minded, she would’ve said so. It’s fine. Promise.” Wanda works her jaw, catching your eyes as you hand her the clothes. “Go on. Get changed. I’ll put on a sitcom.”

She swallows thickly, then nods, quietly ducking into the bathroom. You grab the blanket off Ellie’s bed to steal for the night, turning off the lights and setting up The Dick Van Dyke Show on your laptop. Wanda comes out of the bathroom a minute or two after you’ve finished, fingers twisting together anxiously as she hesitates. Your eyes drag over her, briefly appreciating the sight of her in your clothes before giving her a small smile, lifting the blanket invitingly with a quiet, “C’mere.”

Wanda takes a breath before scooting into bed, and you push back against the wall to give her as much space as the twin sized bed allows. Wanda, however, has other plans. You’re only a few minutes into the episode when she rolls to face you, grabbing your waist to urge you closer until she can hide against you. You slip an arm under her head, her hair tickling your arm as she tangles your legs. The closeness takes your breath away, and you struggle to keep your heart beating regularly as Wanda settles with a small sigh.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers for what must be the hundredth time.

You swallow hard. “What for?”

“Everything,” she says. “Not telling you who I was, mostly.”

“It’s okay,” you say softly. “If… if I’m being honest, I sort’ve already knew.”

Wanda pulls back to look at you, brow furrowed in confusion, and god your faces are so close. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean, like, I knew you were an Avenger.”

Her furrowed brow deepens. “How?”

You smile a little. “Well, first off, you’re a pretty terrible liar.” Wanda scoffs, fingers digging into your side until you squirm away from her. She gives up almost immediately, grabbing you to keep her close to her. “And second, there were way too many coincidences - you being from Sokovia, you always having some sort of minor injury, the fact that you know people named Nat and Steve and Sam, and I just… I dunno. I had a feeling.” She hums, hiding her face again, and that’s the only reason you have the courage to let the next words slip out of your mouth. “Plus, you’re, like, the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. A few grainy Twitter videos can’t hide that.”

She doesn’t say anything in response to that, just burrows further into you, holds you a little tighter, and your heart thumps solidly enough in your chest that you're sure she can feel it. You fall into an easy silence for a little while, Wanda just breathing against you while you watch the sitcom playing quietly on your laptop screen.

“So, you’re not…” She shifts, tilts her face so her voice isn’t as muffled. “You’re not scared of me?”

The question catches you off guard. You frown, pulling back and looking at her once you can. She bites into her lip, eyes skirting your face. “Scared of you?” you echo. “Why would I be scared of you?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know,” she whispers. “I just… I’ve got all these powers that I don’t understand. I feel like a walking timebomb. If I feel anything too strongly, I lose control. I can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t be scared of me.”

You smile, albeit a little sadly. “Well, I’m not. At all.”

Wanda frowns a little, brow creasing. “And you’re not upset I lied? Or, I guess, tried to?”

“Nope.” She blinks, lips pulling down into a curious little pout, and you have the urge to kiss it away. After a few moments of watching you like she’s trying to decipher if you’re being honest or not, she sighs and tucks her head back under your chin, her fingers curling into the back of your shirt. You swallow thickly, smooth a hand over her back as she takes a breath. “You wanna sleep?”

She hums an affirmative. “Can we keep the show on? Have it on while we sleep?”

You nod, and without even really thinking, tilt your head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. She sighs again, almost in relief, and the sound of the show's laugh track fills the silence that falls between you. “I like this episode,” she whispers.

You breathe a tiny laugh, arm tightening around her waist. “You’re so weird,” you murmur affectionately. Wanda giggles, and the sound warms your chest, glad that you’ve pulled one out of her.

She falls quiet, then, and you find yourself getting pulled into the old sitcom. You play absentmindedly with her hair, despite the slightly awkward angle that the action puts your wrist at, and you don’t even realise she’s asleep until you’ve watched three episodes and you go to ask her if she wants to turn it off. You go still when you notice, heart leaping when Wanda lets out a disgruntled grunt against you, burrowing further into your shoulder to close the small distance you’d created when you tried to get her attention.

You blink, freezing momentarily. And then, with a soft grunt of effort, you close the laptop and manage to shift it onto the windowsill behind your bed. Wanda grumbles again at the movement, half asleep as she mumbles something under her breath, something you’re not sure was in English.

You swallow dryly as you settle again, smooth a hand over her shoulders, and whisper a barely audible, “Sorry.” Wanda lets out another small hum, still asleep, and sighs.

As she nuzzles into you, her body relaxing against you, you know you love her.

The realisation hits you all at once, and surprisingly, all you feel is a sense of contentment.

You love Wanda Maximoff.

You take a deep breath, breathe in the smell of her shampoo, and let your eyes fall shut.

When you wake the next morning, it’s only because Wanda is slipping out of your hold. You grumble tiredly at the disruption, missing the warmth of her against you, and Wanda freezes on the edge of the bed, turning over her shoulder to look at you. You hum, manage a tired smile. “G’mornin’,” you mumble.

“Hi,” Wanda says, voice raspy with sleep, cheeks flushing. “Sorry. I tried not to wake you.”

“‘S okay,” you dismiss, rolling onto your back and rubbing at your eyes. “I’m a light sleeper.” Wanda hums again, stretching her arms above her head, and you have to force yourself not to look at the skin that shows as the shirt rides up. You swallow dryly, watch as she starts to pull her sneakers on. “What time is it?”

“10,” she says softly. “I was just leaving.”

“Leaving?” Wanda nods. “How…?”

“Nat’s downstairs.” You blink, rub some of the sleep out of your eyes as you push to sit up and crawl out of bed.

“I’ll walk you down,” you mutter, “just gimme a sec.”

Ten minutes later, you’re approaching a sleek black corvette, holding the hand of one Avenger while another waits in the driver’s seat of said black corvette. A tinted window slides down, and your legs almost give out. Wanda’s fingers tighten around yours at the shaky breath you let out.

Natasha fucking Romanoff pushes her sunglasses atop of her head and addresses Wanda with an unreadable look. “You know, it took me two hours to convince Steve not to send the whole compound on a city-wide search for you.”

Wanda sighs softly. “I told you—”

“You were at a friend’s dorm, I know.” Her eyes dart to you. “I take it you’re said friend?”

Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you fumble for a response. “Y-yes, ma’am. Sorry.”

Natasha grins, then, gaze shifting back to Wanda. “Cute,” she says, and then she pulls her sunglasses back down. “Alright. Let’s go; we gotta stop for groceries on the way home.”

Wanda nods, and turns to face you, thumb stroking over your knuckles. “Thank you,” she says softly. “For, well, everything.”

You shrug, give her a tiny smile. “You don’t have to thank me,” you reply. Wanda gives you a look, and your smile widens. Your eyes drift back down to her bruise; it’s only gotten worse overnight, more purple and you’re certain, more painful. You click your tongue a little, lifting your hand to so, so delicately, tip her chin up so you can get a proper look at it. “That looks sore.”

“It’s not my first bruise, believe it or not,” she says jokingly, but a little breathless. Her cheeks are flushed, you realise, pupils dilated as she looks at you. You swallow dryly, shift your hand up to push a loose strand behind her ear.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you make the whole beat-up look work.”

Wanda huffs, and you drop your hand, grinning along with her. She twists her lips thoughtfully after a moment, blinking slowly, and then she leans in close and, in what you’re sure was an attempt at stopping your heart, presses a kiss dangerously close to the corner of your mouth. She leans back just enough to look at you, eyes shifting between your eyes and your mouth, squeezes your fingers. “I’ll talk to you later?”

You clear your throat and manage a nod, brain spinning, that thought ever so persistent in your mind again: Kiss her.

Wanda’s face shifts, then, brows pulling together in seriousness. “Y/N,” she says, voice hardly a whisper. You hum in acknowledgement, willing the thought away, but unable to tear your eyes away from the soft pink flesh of her mouth as her teeth sink into her bottom lip. Her hand slides from yours only so she can cup your face, and your heart skips as she blinks up at you, a nervous little grin tugging up one corner of her mouth. “You know I can read minds, right?”

Your jaw drops. “You - you what?”

She huffs a laugh. “I can read minds,” she says again, stepping in so close you’re practically pressed flush together. “It’s not always on purpose; if the thought is loud enough and you aren’t hiding it, I can’t really help it.” Your cheeks are burning, but Wanda’s smile isn’t teasing, just adoring. “And if I have to hear you think about kissing me without you doing anything about it one more time, I’m gonna lose it.”

“Oh,” you say, and Wanda hums, hands sliding down to rest lazily against the sides of your neck, her thumbs stroking your jaw. You swallow hard, looking down at her mouth when her tongue darts out to dampen it. “I—” You clear your throat, eyes darting briefly to the car. “The Black Widow is right there.”

Wanda grins, shakes her head a little and leans in so close you can feel her breath on your lips, practically taunting you. “It’s not like she’s gonna ground me,” she whispers.

Your desire to not embarrass yourself in front of every 20-something girl’s childhood hero has nothing on your desire to kiss Wanda Maximoff, so you throw your nerves to the curb and lean in to kiss her.

It’s soft and sweet; your hands find her waist, and you know only a second into the kiss that the feeling of Wanda’s mouth on yours is the only thing you’re going to be thinking about for the rest of your life. Wanda breaks away all too soon for your liking, a blush on her cheeks and a flustered little grin on her lips. You can’t imagine you look much different.

You drop your hands as Wanda does, stuffing them instead into your pocket. Wanda giggles, and takes a few steps towards the car. “Okay. Okay, I’ve gotta…”

You nod. “Yeah. I’ll call you later.”

She bites her lip to try and hide her grin, but it just makes you want to kiss her again. Just as it looks like she’s about to turn around and get into the car, she bounds up to you and grabs your face, presses another quick kiss to your mouth.

“Okay,” she says again, dropping a kiss to your cheek, still looking at you with that wide grin. “I’m going now.”

You laugh, giddy as you watch her open the door to the passenger seat. “Bye.”

She grins. “Bye.”

She gets in the car, and almost immediately, Natasha is pulling away. You watch the car disappear, and the second it’s out of sight, it takes all of your willpower not to do a happy dance. Instead, you settle for a giddy little jump, head tipping up to the sky before you spin on your heel and start to make your way back towards your dorm.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda fluff #j is writing #mine

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ggidolsmuts · 3 years ago

Text

Savage(d) - Aespa Karina

Tags: Tentacle sex, masturbation, virtual sex, aphrodisiac, solo

TW: Tentacle sex, virtual non/dub-con, maybe aphrodisiac play? Look, you see this image, you know what it is going to be, just assume whatever tags that you associate with tentacle sex might be involved. That said, you probably know what I normally write: It’s kinky, it pushes the boundaries a little bit, but not in the typical way.

The rustle of sheets is loud in the otherwise quiet bedroom, the dim moonlight streaming into the room casting a curvy shadow on the wall. The movement is rhythmic, rocking back and forth on the bed. The curves jiggle hypnotically, a hand automatically grabbing one bouncing orb and squeezing.

“Fuck…” Karina gasps softly, she is close. Her sheets rustle even more, but to any outside listener it would just seem as if Karina is a restless sleeper. She straddles her covers even tighter, trying to grind down on the sheets harder. Her slit drags on the fabric over and over, sweat and juice leaking on to it as Karina desperately tries to ride herself to a needed peak. Promotions had left her too tired to do the deed the past few nights, but after one too many nights unsatisfied, she needed to get off.

“Fuck!” Karina whines, she was close. “Damn it damn it damn it!” she moans frustratedly, her masturbation session seemingly ending with a whimper and soaked sheets, unable to tip herself over the edge. Just one more unsatisfying night.

No! Fuck I want to get off… Her eyes scan the room, finding the small blinking light of her laptop enticing. Before she realizes it she is seated in front of her laptop, naked and legs spread, ready for her fingers. She debates what to type, discarding all her usual porn favorites one-by-one—she had gone through all of them before already.

Slowly she types in the next thing that comes to mind.

aespa sex

She wonders if her fans are are as horny as she is. And she was glad they were—there was a surprising amount, a lot involving their æ’s! Karina clicks through them, and while they were hot, nothing prompted her enough to touch herself. That is, until she runs across a game about them, simply titled “aespa Savaged”. Against her better regular judgment, her lust-fueled finger clicks on the “Download” button, and after a few restless minutes a simple file is on her laptop, and without hesitation she clicks on it.

A black screen pops up, before the simple words “aespa Savaged” show up on the screen, along with a “Start” button. The button brings her to the next screen.

Select your character

Below those words are four very familiar figures.

æ-Karina, æ-Winter, æ-Giselle, æ-Ningning

Some sort of porn RPG? Fine. Karina clicks on her own virtual figure.

The game starts with a long prologue, but horny, she skips through all of it and gets straight to the game. It turns out to be some sort of simple role-playing game, and in just a few minutes she finds herself in a tutorial fight with a bunch of thugs. The screen is a rendering of æ-Karina dressed in the most impractical of armors, facing off against four muscular men.

Bikini armor? Typical. Karina scans her move list.

Black Mamba Punch

Black Mamba Drop

Next Level Headlock

Next Level Beat Drop

She chooses “Black Mamba Punch”, and it plays a clip of her famous “ay-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya” move, her hands going back and forth while she shakes her head left and right, her tits juggling deliciously. Of course they include the handjob move! she thinks to herself, but the move is effective, doing good damage to the group.

She tries the next move, “Black Mamba Drop”, and it plays another clip of her dropping to the floor, her deep cleavage showing. It allows her to dodge the incoming attacks before the thugs fall with a sweep of her leg—just one left.

Karina selects the next move, and after a clip of the Next Level arm choreo, æ-Karina grabs the last thug in the headlock and chokes him out.

Congrats, you have passed the tutorial! Next fight?

Already? Karina thinks to herself, a little annoyed there wasn’t much arousing about it. Would there be a sex scene if I had lost? she wonders, but she presses “Continue” anyway instead of “Restart”. Instantly the scene shifts, a bulbous mass of tentacles her new enemy.

Of course. Karina rolls her eyes, but just the sight of the appendages makes her wonder what would happen if she loses… She starts with the “Black Mamba Punch”, and it works to repel some of the tentacles, but there are many more. Tentacles swing at her, and they connect, stinging æ-Karina’s midriff and leaving her at low health.

Shit! More tentacles come, and Karina is forced to use “Black Mamba Drop”. She dodges most of them, but one makes it through the large gap between her breasts, sneaking under the bikini armor before pulling away, ripping it off æ-Karina. “Damn it!” Karina curses to herself, engrossed in the game. A headlock is pointless against tentacles, and with almost no health left she chooses the last option she has yet to try, “Next Level Beat Drop”.

To her horror æ-Karina simply turns around, bending over and rubbing her hand over her butt, cheeks barely covered by the bottom half of her bikini armor. The hell is that supposed to do?! Tentacles reach out to æ-Karina, slapping her butt red over and over, reducing her health to zero. æ-Karina collapses to the ground. Somehow the fight isn’t over yet though, and it offers Karina only one choice—she has no moves left.

Struggle

She tries it, but it is useless, and more florid text appears to describe the monster’s attacks.

It is useless! Tentacles wrap around æ-Karina’s arms and legs!

Karina still only has one choice.

Struggle

It is useless! A tentacle slips under her bikini bottoms!

Karina sees an “O-meter” replace her HP value.

Struggle

It is useless! The tentacle strips æ-Karina naked! The O-meter rises to 2/100. The image switches to one of æ-Karina bound by tentacles wrapped lewdly around all her limbs, lifted up off the ground by a tentacle around her waist. In a trance Karina keeps pushing on.

Struggle

It is useless! Tentacles begin squeezing æ-Karina’s tits! 10/100.

Struggle

It is useless! A tentacle is stuffed down æ-Karina’s mouth, it fills her with aphrodisiac slime! 25/100.

Struggle

It is useless! The tentacles spread æ-Karina’s legs further apart, ready for penetration! 50/100.

Virtual arousal blends into real life pleasure as Karina’s mouth hangs open, her hands glued to the laptop, automatically jilling the “Struggle” move to continue (æ-)Karina’s fate.

Karina’s throat bulges as the tentacle continues to feed her its slime. Her breasts seem to swell, but no, it is simply the tentacles coiling around her generous globes. The tips curl and rub against her stiff nipples—god she was more sensitive!

Karina’s body feels hotter and hotter, and she moans around the tentacle, voicing her need for the heat to be quelled. As if reacting to her wordless desire, one tentacle draws a line from her neck down to her mound, tracing directly through her cleavage and her slim midriff before aiming lower. Mad with arousal æ-Karina does her best to buck up in the air, urging for the Lernean facsimile to take her.

A tentacle finally penetrates her burning entrance, drawing a scream that is choked back with more slime. Satisfied with her wetness, the tentacle stops releasing slime in her mouth, allowing her a brief moment to gasp.

A very brief moment, and almost immediately both tentacles begin moving in and out of Karina, spit-roasting her strung up body, making both throat and pussy choke on thick pillars of meat. The tentacles around her nipples curl even tighter, almost as if trying to suckle her, and æ-Karina moans loudly, drool leaking out the side of her mouth, the tentacle slime inside her body turning her sensitivity up to 11.

The heat grows in æ-Karina, and with every pump of the tentacles her O-meter value keeps going up, until finally it hits 100/100. æ-Karina’s body tenses before losing control, thrashing limbs held in place by the monster as she spasms in climax. Her eyes widen in shock as the tentacles continue to pump in and out of her, and Karina can only whimper and whine at the relentless pleasuring of her body.

With a mind of its own, the tentacle in her pussy explores her silky wetness, and when it finds her spongy g-spot the tentacle stays stuck to it, rubbing her spot furiously. Like a pinball machine the O-meter score blows past 100, the number climbing up rapidly as Karina sees stars in her vision, her toes curling and uncurling with every explosion of pleasure.

“Ahh!” She squeals when she feels another tentacle poke at her backdoor, a warm liquid suddenly filling her ass. Copious amounts of the slime leak out of her backdoor before æ-Karina is forced to bite down on the tentacle in her mouth—the slime deadens her pain and heightens her pleasure, and slowly her ass is gaped, making room for the tentacle to push into her constrictive warmth.

The two tentacles rub against each other, the pleasure and pressure in her pussy and ass growing exponentially as the tentacles seem to swell and expand inside her. Moans turn to screams, the three tentacles in her body reaching into the deepest recesses of Karina—deeper and deeper they go with every thrust, as if trying to link up in the middle of her nubile body.

The O-meter value overflows, the game seems to freeze, and Karina hits the pot of gold at the end of her obscene rainbow, her eyes rolling like slot machines in her head…

“Fuck!” Karina’s scream shatters the silent bedroom, her head spinning with pleasure before crashing onto the laptop, a wet rush of slick arousal spraying on to the floor underneath the table. Her nails dig grooves into the table before cracking, her lower lip bloodied by how hard she bit herself. Sweating and panting, Karina limply shudders through one of the most intense orgasms she’s ever had, allowing its many tendrils to take her just like the monster took æ-Karina.

By the time she has the strength to raise her head, she is greeted with an image of æ-Karina dangling in the air, wrapped around the waist by a tentacle—white cum pours from all her holes, her expression blank and thoroughly fucked, not unlike Karina herself. She pushes herself off the desk, and to her surprise finds both her hands dry on the table—did she not touch herself?

“Holy fuck…” she breathes to herself, feeling her thighs quiver, completely soaked in her slick. Oh my god! Tonight is a night of firsts as Karina looks at the puddle under her desk in amazement—she’s never squirted before either! She shuts the laptop and shakily gets up to go to bed, but she was still burning, her aching thirst not quenched yet.

She adds one more “first time” to tonight’s list, and praying that she didn’t wake up the other members with her scream earlier Karina exits her room. She goes to the kitchen, the light of the refrigerator showing off her flushed body for anyone who cared to see. She searches for what she needed, and finding it she grabs the cucumber, her mind barely recognizing it as food in her needy state.

Just like a tentacle…

Still wrapped in plastic Karina takes it back to her room, diving under the covers and not even bothering to clean up the mess at her desk. Hurriedly she spreads her legs, and with a muffled moan into the pillow she presses the phallic vegetable against herself. She takes a deep breath, forcing herself to relax, and with some crinkling of the plastic wrap the ersatz tentacle enters her.

With one hand gripping her sheets, Karina slowly pushes against the cucumber, her tight walls expanding and enveloping the girthy fruit. She bucks her hips not unlike æ-Karina did in the game, the natural curve of the cucumber put to good use as Karina begins humping up into it.

What am I doing, why does it feel so good!

The pleasure stops the rest of her questions from going through her mind, the thick shaft stuffing her far better than her fingers could, the rough texture of the cucumber stimulating her perfectly. A few more thrusts and a light finger on her clit, and Karina has to bury her face in the pillow, muffling her loud orgasmic moan as she clenches down on the long green rod inside her.

Need more! I need more!

In hazy pleasure she gets on her knees and bends over, her nipples rubbing the sheets delightfully as she rocks herself on the “well-watered” plant, her hand thrusting it in and out of her rapidly to bring about her third climax.

Finally satiated, Karina carefully pulls the cucumber out, whining at the sudden emptiness between her legs. She looks at it, the plastic wrap shining with her slick in the dim light of the room, and the image of the tentacle in æ-Karina’s mouth fills her thoughts. Karina unwraps the cucumber and opens her mouth, but it doesn’t get very far into her before she chokes and has to take it out, coughing slightly as she does so.

One last thought enters her mind before sleep overtakes her, cucumber still in hand.

I’ll try again next time.

“Unnie!” Winter’s voice enters Karina’s ears in the morning, alongside insistent knocking.

“Don’t come in!” Karina hastily calls out, scrambling to put on a t-shirt before answering her at the door. “What is it?”

“Unnie have you seen my cucumber? I was going to use it for a shake!”

“Your cucumber? N-No, I don’t know where it is.”

“Ahh that’s so annoying! Where did it go?” Winter stomps off back to the kitchen. Hurriedly Karina cleans up the mess at her desk and puts on some shorts, hiding the cucumber under her t-shirt as she joins Winter in the kitchen. While Winter is searching high and low in the fridge, she spies her chance and quickly dumps it in the trash.

“Never mind Winter, I’ll make breakfast for you.”

“Ah, thank you…” Pouting, Winter goes to sit at the dining table, only to notice the cucumber in the trash. “What! Who threw my cucumber away?!”

“Oh, this was yours? I thought it went bad, sorry!”

“Unnie!” Winter whines loudly, sitting down at the dining table. “You should have asked before you threw it away!”

“Sorry, I’ll do that next time. Let’s go and get your favorite smoothie later okay? Your favorite one, my treat.”

“Really? I guess I can forgive you then.” Karina breathes a huge sigh of relief, the unnoticed embarrassment draining from her cheeks as she finishes making breakfast for the two of them.

Winter happily offers to clean up, and Karina returns to her room. After making sure that her door was closed she opens up the laptop, the game still running, the image of a cum-filled æ-Karina still on screen. She looks at it for a long moment before exiting the game.

But she doesn’t delete it.

A/N: Aaaand I’ve hit my Kinktober quota, rest of October is going to be fluffy/more regular stuff. Tried some new stuff: more third-person stuff, for once there’s no partner at all, purely a masturbation piece. An asker on reddit wondered about writing a touch-free orgasm, which is an interesting prospect, so I thought might as well give it a shot. Also I wrote Winter into an innocent cutiepie on the side lol.

The “game” part is intentionally confusing, I mixed up the formatting and which Karina I was writing about to really try and blend in the fact that Karina was imagining some of it happening to her as she “played” the game.

Thanks for reading!

#smut #aespa #karina

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bastillewolf · 4 years ago

Text

Shinigami Eyes (II)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: After you distastefully kill Corpse in a game of Among Us, he wants you to make it up to him and invites you to come over for the week.

Notes: Thank you so much for the love on the previous chapter, I’ve never gotten this many notes before. I hope you enjoy, and maybe leave an ask if you want to? I can’t promise I have time to do them, but I’ll pick out a couple.

Also, I might rewrite this. I kinda rushed it because I wanted to finish it by tonight, but there will be a final and third chapter to this afterwards. Please do let me know what you think.

Tag list CLOSED!

Shinigami Eyes - Pt. II

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

You were teamed up with Sean.

Your fist violently slammed down on the desk. “Goddammit! I don’t want to be impostor anymore! This game has no compassion for my poor nerves.” It was the third time in a row now, and you were really craving to do normal tasks now without all the scheming. “Fuck it, I don’t care if they kill me. I’m just gonna do my thing without thinking about it.”

You decide to follow Toast for a bit to watch him do some task. You kill him in Laboratory. You vent back to Launchpad and take your time walking towards MedBay while the kill button restores. You meet up with Corpse, and follow him while pretending to do wires in the Y-hallway. You watched the green bar go up, and continued. Sabotaging and then fixing lights, you made sure your place with Corpse was settled. Then the body of Lily was reported.

As you expected, Corpse easily vouched for you as he’d seen you do a task. The round was skipped, though Rae was sussed for ‘chasing’ Sean, by his own words.

“Corpse, you’ve grown weak,” you muttered to chat.

You were in Greenhouse, and decided it would be best to kill him there and sabotage Reactor. “Sorry baby, but I can’t keep following you around.” You quickly set off Reactor and murdered him in front of the plants. “Your blood shall keep the plants hydrated.” You did an evil laugh. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works, though.”

You vented down to MedBay and as you walked out you met up with Rae. She’d be the vouch who would confirm you weren’t anywhere near Greenhouse. “I’ll just have to fix my own sabotage so they’ll never suspect me.” You helped her with the handprint, and noted Sykkuno and Felix being there. Sean sabotaged lights, you killed Sykkuno, and ran out to follow Lily into Laboratory. Felix reported the body.

“Holy shit,” Rae gasped. So far, five people had died. You only needed to kill one more person. “It was Felix!”

“Wait, what?” the man in question asked. “I was fixing Reactor!”

She mentioned that only you, Sykkuno, Felix and herself had been there and that you’d helped her do handprint. “Sykkuno must have fixed it, and then you killed him!”

Sean asked if you’d seen anything.

“No, the lights were out. I followed Rae into Laboratory after the scan.” Your voice didn’t tremble or raise, a tactic you’d taken up from the best lair in the group. Well, the one who was now dead. Oops. “I haven’t seen Felix this entire game, though.”

He was evidently at a loss for words, so the group was quick to vote for him.

Pewds was ejected.

Victory.

You thanked Sean for a good game who was laughing his ass off. “I can’t believe you did Corpse like that! Poor guy!”

“I deadass thought you were innocent,” Corpse replied, “I’m hurt.”

“Why do you still sound dark and menacing when you say something like that?!”

You agreed with Sean heartily, “He’s just salty I’ve bested him at his own game.”

“Hey now, no need to actually insult me.”

The group laughed. You decided to call it for the night, right before Corpse did the same.”

***

He was calling you again. “What is it this time, you salty?”

“Salty? Nah, never,” he said, but you weren’t convinced.

“Then why you calling?”

“What, I can’t call my friends after playing a nice round of Among Us?”

“Not when you lost the game and you call the person who you lost to. Kinda sus, dude.”

“Alright, maybe a little salty.” You smirked.

“Aw, you need me to make it up to you?”

He laughed. “What did you have in mind?”

A bunch of thoughts, most not rated PG-13, crossed your mind. You were suddenly starting to feel uncomfortable. This was probably just something innocent, which got twisted in your fucked-up mind. You shrugged, “Uh… I don’t know.”

“I got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Come over this week. You said you needed a break, right?”

“That sounds more like you’re doing me a favour instead of me making it up to you.”

“I don’t have any friends. You’d be making it up to me by being the first physical person here in years. I usually don’t invite people over.”

“Wow, I’m flattered. So, you don’t consider me to be your friend after all?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he chuckled.

“Sure, sure. Tell me that again when my presence suddenly brightens your life making you not want to get rid of me, ever.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

***

You walk through the gates following a hoard of people, all the while still feeling drowsy from not getting any sleep during your flight. At least you didn’t have any turbulence and landed safely. Glancing around here and there with no result, you figured Corpse would be waiting outside, until you spotted a figure clad in black a little ends away by the escalator. You were glad you were still awake enough to have found him, because he appeared to silently linger halfway behind a fern.

At least, you hoped it was him. The only indications were his clothes, mask and dark hair. You saw him run a hand through it, and identified the chipped black nail polish and familiar rings. Oh yea, that was him alright.

He seemed to be paying more attention to the floor until he saw two feet appear in his line of sight. “Hey,” you awkwardly greeted. A bit taken a back, he replied, “Oh, wow. Hey.” A mask was covering the bottom of his face, but as far as you could see his eyes were a very dark shade.

“Wow?” you repeated. He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Yea, sorry. It’s a compliment.” You held your elbow out in a safe-distance gestured hello, but he shrugged you off. “You’re gonna be staying with me anyways.” Suddenly in a daze, you felt him wrap his arms around your waist and instantly hugged him back. His baggy sweater felt warm and soft to the touch, and strands of hair tickled your face. You very much tried to repress your smile and blush, but how could you? Hugging someone wasn’t supposed to feel this good. When he pulled back he reached down to take your suitcase from you. “I don’t own a car, is it okay if we take a cab?”

“Y-Yeah, of course,” you stuttered, “But it’s on me. Same with food and stuff.” “Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled. “No, you’re letting me stay with you and a hotel would’ve been a lot more expensive than this. It’s my treat.” “Yeah, we’ll see.” He gave you a look and even with the mask you could tell he was smirking underneath it.

It’s about half an hour drive to his apartment complex, and it’s rather nice. “All that YouTube money paying off, huh?” you asked in amusement. “You’d know,” he replied. You insisted on carrying your suitcase up the stairs yourself, which he silently shook his head at, until after a few flights he noticed you struggling and settled on carrying the thing in between the two of you. “How many clothes did you bring?” “Oh, it’s mostly filled with bricks I might need to throw at your head.” He laughed at that.

His apartment was simple, but cosy. “Home sweet home,” he said, almost sarcastically. You furrowed your brow at him. “I’m sure you could’ve had it a lot worse.” He reluctantly agreed.

He helped you set down your luggage in what appeared to be his bedroom, where the curtains were still closed and the black bedsheets fresh. He had a few pieces of fanart up on his wall, and some on his closet. You turned to him and gave him a look. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

He quickly shook his head, “You’re not sleeping there. If you won’t let me sleep on the couch I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“If you’re sleeping on the floor, I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he murmured. “What?” “Nothing.”

He suggested playing video games as you were both too tired to do anything else. You’d landed quite late yet were still confused about what time it actually was. Flying is weird. You hopped onto his couch and grabbed a controller.

He sat down next to you, but suddenly seemed tenser than before.

“You okay? You can just go to sleep if you want to.”

He shook his head, “Nah, I don’t sleep a lot. It’s fine.”

You didn’t stop looking at him, though. He was still wearing that mask. “You don’t have to take it off, if you don’t want to. I understand if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that, I just…” He took a deep breath. You hadn’t expected him to take it off then and there. You stared at him, your mouth slightly agape, controller barely held by your numb hands.

“Disappointed?”

It was as if he was expecting you to make a face or something, but you didn’t give him anything, except for a blatant “Nope” and an “Are we gonna play now or what?”

“You don’t have anything else to say?”

You shrugged, and looked him up and down again. “You’re kind of what I imagined you to be.”

“What’s that?”

“Handsome.”

Neither of you could stop smiling for the rest of the night.

You eventually forced him to sleep in his own bed, even going as far as to shove him into the room and keep your weight against the door so he couldn’t get out, so he eventually relented. “Inviting you here was a mistake.” “How come? All I’ve done so far is look after you!” “You’re a nightmare.”

You mostly stayed in for the week, which you didn’t mind at all. Being in such a closed-off environment with someone you got along with was nice. He attempted to get you to lift the weights in his room and succeeded for around fifteen minutes until you nearly dropped a dumbbell on your foot. You ordered take-out from his favourite restaurant, watched horror movies until you adapted to his sleeping schedule because you were too scared to close your eyes now, and even streamed a bit together with your friends.

“Wait, is Corpse with you?” Rae had asked.

“No, I’m at Corpse’s. He’s sitting across from me so I can’t see his screen but we’re gonna have to share the Discord unless you want to hear an echo.”

“Ah, man! You got to see his face, too?” Sykkuno whined.

“Stop simping, Sykkuno. You get enough attention from him already.”

“Don’t worry, I still love you,” Corpse said.

“Huh?”

It was probably a good thing that you got teamed up again, because you could indeed start to see his hands shaking right as the word ‘impostor’ appeared on the screen. You reached over and stroked it with your thumb. He smiled gratefully back at you.

“Just please,” he pleaded later that day, “Sleep in the bed. If only for one night.”

“No. I’ve heard about and now seen your sleeping habits. If you take the couch you’re never going to get any sleep.” You made a real effort to show him how comfortable you were – even though your back had started to hurt already after the first night – by crawling underneath your blanket and rubbing your head into the soft pillow. He snorted.

Next thing, you feel yourself being lifted by an arm underneath your knees and one around your back. “Corpse! Put me the fuck down!” you shrieked. You knew he lifted weights, but how the hell did he still have the energy as an insomniac? He ungracefully dropped you onto the matrass and turned the lights off. “Good night.”

You quickly got hold of the back of his hoodie before he could leave and pulled. He fell down next to you with a low huff. “Fine, I’ll sleep in the bed. But only if you sleep here too.”

“I snore.”

“Don’t care.”

For some reason, there wasn’t any tension or awkwardness. You were comfortable, and the soft rhythm of his breathing seemed to soothe you. He called out your name, to see if you were still awake.

“Hm?”

“…Thanks for coming over.”

“Any time.”

This was how you would spend the rest of the nights, and whenever either of you woke up suddenly curled up around the other, you didn’t mention it or move away from it. It was the first time in years Corpse got a few nights of complete rest.

#corpse husband #Corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #youtube #youtube fanfiction #pewdiepie #jacksepticeye

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raggaraddy · 3 years ago

Note

Can you Taehyungs version of reader being shot cause of them?

I really like your Jimin and Namjoon Version that you’ve written🥰

Request from @dramaclub-thin: Mafia BTS where the reader is shot for/because of them.

A/N: It is so much longer than I meant for it to be. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading.

If anyone else wants to request, you can here.

Mafia Bangtan other parts:

Namjoon

Yoongi

Jimin

Jungkook

---------

Deception.

Summary: When you agreed to help Bangtan take down one of their enemies, you never imagined it could go so wrong.

Trigger warning: Smut, violence, blood, murder.

Taehyung

Mafia! Taehyung

"Are you ready?" Namjoon asks, shutting off the car's engine and turning around in his seat.

"Yeah," you nod back, hoping the rocking pit of nerves in your stomach isn't visible on your face. Scanning back and forth between him in the front and Jin sat beside you, you're checking to see if they are showing any signs of worry either. Finding a bit of solace in their surety.

"We're gonna lag behind about 20 minutes to be cautious and stay out of sight. But we'll be close. Just do everything like we said, and you'll be fine." Namjoon summarizes once again. Jin offering you a kind, reassuring smile to accompany the leader's words.

You nod again, sucking your tongue to the roof of your mouth. Running your fingers through your hair to fluff it for the 30th time. Hyperfixated on the time, you see the dashboard clock tick over. 20:21.

"Okay, let's go." You exhale deeply.

It was three weeks ago that Namjoon came to you with a problem that Bangtan was facing. Their weapons dealer was forcefully put out of business, which was Namjoons gentle way of saying he was killed, cutting off their supply to automatics and other bigger guns. Leaving them vulnerable. The man who took over their previous partners supply was known to be working with some of the other, smaller local crews. It was also known that he was a rival of Namjoon's and due to this tension refused to work with Bangtan. Normally, a problem like this would be something that they could handle. However, as Namjoon explained it, this guy was backed and protected by foreign money and was too hot to touch without starting a bloody war.

So the plan was simple. Risky, but simple. The supplier had to die. And it needed to appear to be from natural causes, so it could never fall back on Bangtan. No one directly affiliated could be involved. That meant none of the members could risk doing it. It also meant that it was too high a priority to trust an associate or hired gun with this information. Not with the reach and money the opposition had. No, it had to be someone within the family that could handle this, but someone the supplier would never know.

Opportunely, the supplier was known to have a weakness for women, hence the logical conclusion for Namjoon was one of the member's girls. Trustworthy enough not to turn or rat, not likely to be noticed among the myriad of other women, and except a few of them, all had no record linking them to Bangtan, so they would be complete unknowns.

Jin said it, but you already knew it. Out of all of the girls, you were the one who was the most capable. Your difficult past left you with many emotional scars but made you the best person to handle the responsibility. You're not susceptible to intimidation. Have very few moral hangups. And most importantly Namjoon knows how much you love Taehyung. How you would do anything for him. To keep him safe and happy. He knows he can trust you, and that when the time comes, you wouldn't hesitate to do what they needed you to.

As for you, you knew that Taehyung trusted Namjoon irrefutably and you had seen countless times that he was a good leader. Furthermore, you could appreciate the gravity of the situation. Because you're sure that if Bangtan's brain had any other choice, he would not have asked for your help. But since he had, you were going to do what was necessary to keep your family and Taehyung safe.

The problem was that Namjoon had insisted on secrecy. The only ones to know about his plan were you, him, and Jin. A few years ago, sure, lying would not have been a problem for you, you hardly ever told the truth to anyone. But this changed when you met Taehyung. He was the first person you could be honest with, the first person you ever let love you. And lying to him was something you were genuinely struggling with.

However, you knew Namjoon and Jin were right. There was no way Tae would have been okay with you being put in harm's way and he wouldn't be able to separate his feelings from the urgency of the task.

Although, that justification doesn't make you feel less guilty for deceiving him. And to make matters worse, you expected this to be over with last week already. But on your first date with the supplier, he had left the club early to deal with work suddenly. Giving you no time to spike his drink.

So here you were, attempt number two.

While you were meant to meet the supplier at a fancy restaurant first, Namjoon's plan was to skip that and get to his house as quickly as possible. Before the valet could open the supplier's car door, you leant through the open window, teasingly licking your lips. "I just realized," you purr, noting his eyes drop to your mouth and back. "I'm actually not that hungry. So how about we skip to the end of the night, and then you can take me out for breakfast tomorrow morning."

Your blatant offer works like a charm. 20 minutes and a car ride later, he's pulling you down onto his couch. Hardly able to keep his hands or lips off of you.

Tearing at your blouse he rips the buttons apart, his mouth sucking and licking at your neck. One of his hands roaming and grabbing at anything he can, while the other starts to hike up your pencil skirt. He removes his vest and buttoned shirt, not once parting his lips from yours. His large, hard chest muscles pressing against you as he pins you in between his arms and the couch. Spreading your legs apart, he grinds his crotch into your core and you can feel what effect this is having on him. And you have to admit, despite your mind being focused elsewhere, physically it's having the same kind of arousing results on you.

But this isn't what's supposed to happen. He's moving too fast and it's quickly getting away from you. You only want to get him comfortable and distracted enough that he completely lets his guard down. You're trying to poison him, not fuck him.

Pushing his chest lightly, you spring upright. Slightly out of breath you pull your hair over your shoulder covering up a little and running your fingers through it, trying to regain some composure.

"I could use a drink." You pant, batting your eyes up at him.

"Sounds good." He nods, his gaze dark and ravenous. Suddenly haulting he leans back down to kiss you. His hands gripping your hips as he kisses you back into the sofa. Abruptly leaving you flat on the couch with flushed cheeks.

This is better. One or two drinks from now, you should be able to slip him the ricin. He drinks it, you fake a headache, and skip home. 24 hours from now he has a heart attack and dies from natural causes. Nothing tied to you. Nothing connected to Bangtan.

"I hope you like-" The supplier calls out, only to be interrupted by a grating smack at the front of the house. You startle upright, sitting alert watching the hall entrance. He comes from the other side, coming back from the kitchen, a curious look on his face. Both of you staring at the same doorway as Taehyung suddenly comes in.

Fuck.

Your eyes go wide, half not able to believe he is actually here. He wasn't supposed to be! Namjoon had arranged for Jimin to take him out tonight. And you had told him you were going to meet some of the other girls.

The thing you didn't know; a week ago when you met the supplier at the club, you had also said you were out with a few girls, including Jimin's girlfriend. But she was with Jimin at that time. And Jimin was with Taehyung. And she knew nothing about any plans to go out.

So when you said there was a movie night tonight, he asked around and found out that was also a lie. He wanted to trust you. To trust that it wouldn't be as bad as his worst fear. Still, the more he thought over how you lied to him, the more he worked himself up, getting himself into a paranoid and anxious state. Until he found himself tracking your phone, following you to an unknown house.

Seeing you half undressed and with someone he considers an enemy, his anger and jealously turns to pure rage. It only taking a second for the scene in front of him to confirm his worst suspicions.

Unleashing his gun he shoots wildly at the supplier. Reason slipping from him completely.

Barley able to avoid being hit, the supplier dives behind one of the sofa chairs. Nearly being riddled with the showering of bullets.

Wrapping your hands over your head, you cover your ears from the explosive sounds. Still firing, and keeping the supplier pinned, Taehyung storms at you.

"Tae-" you start. The gun empties, but Taehyung couldn't care less, tossing it aside. All of his attention focused on you.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" He growls through gritted teeth. His hand flying down smacking your cheek, slapping you back into the sofa. "How could you do this to me?!" He screams, his voice wavering from the emotion in his question.

"I can explain," You ignore the burn on your cheek, running your hands along your body, trying your best to cover and redress yourself. You never wanted him to see you like this, and the look of betrayal in his eyes is stinging your heart more than any slap could. "I-," you begin with no next word coming. There's nothing you can tell him. Not while the supplier is right here.

Taehyung's anger aside, you're terrified to think what him being here means. Namjoon's plan is completely derailed. And Taehyung attacked the supplier, creating an entirely new problem. You're not the smart one. You have no idea what to do or how to fix this.

Where the hell are Jin and Namjoon?

Taehyung is so fixated on you that he doesn't see the other man charging from the side.

"Look out!" You scream. Only it's a second too slow. Taehyung doesn't have time to react and the supplier swings a ceramic table ornament at his head. The shattered fragments raining over you, as your boyfriend is knocked to the ground. The shoe of the imposing man booting into Taehyung's torso.

You dive towards them, driving your body weight into the supplier to separate the two men. Pushing him away as his heel scarcely misses Taehyung's face.

He stumbles back a few steps and straightens up, nodding and pursing his lips with a look of revelation. Seeing you spring to Taehyungs defence revealed much more than you had intended.

While you're attempting to help Tae upright, he quickly shirks you off and lunges at the other man diving through him and dragging him to the floor. Fighting for dominance and survival, the two men break into a brutal fight trading blow after blow as they struggle to overpower the other.

While you're relieved to see that Taehyung is the more skilled of the two, and mostly has the upper hand, you're mainly sick with worry. The ramifications of this will play out beyond this simple fistfight.

All you can do is get Tae out of here for now, and hope that the supplier hasn't realised that this was an attempt to kill him. Maybe if you're really lucky he will only think of it at face value. A cheating girlfriend and her jealous boyfriend.

"Tae," you grab his arm, dragging him back with resistance. "We have to get out of here. Please,"

He drops the supplier's collar, who falls back limply. Turning to you he has blood pouring down his face from a cut on his cheek. Intensifying the cold look in his eye.

"We? What we? Don't you wanna stay here with this piece of shit." He snarls, standing up.

"I can explain after." You tug him again. He can hate you all he likes later. But first, you have to get out of here. "Please," you beg for his agreement.

Staring harshly, he retreats from you. A pained look in his eye that cuts you more than any blade could. Anger, hate, rage. You could handle all of it. But there's so much hurt and sadness on his face. It's nothing you ever wanted to be responsible for. It's more than you can bear.

"Tae," you hold your hand outreached, gingerly approaching him. He doesn't withdraw further, allowing you to rest your hand on his cheek. Your heart breaking further as he leans into your touch. Resting in your palm for comfort like an injured puppy. "I promise, baby, this isn't what it looks like." you coo, "I love you so much,"

His eyes close, his face scrunching in anguish. He wants to believe you so badly. To forget everything he has seen. To take you home and never let you go. He may be the first person you let love you, but for him, you are the only person he ever let himself love.

Turning, you use his softening demeanour to lead him towards the door. But the supplier pulls your attention. Neither of you were paying him any mind and standing in the corner of the room he's pulled his own gun from hiding.

Reacting without a thought you shove your back into Taehyung, covering him. Guarding him.

At the same time, a shot rings out and the bullet hits you. A painful, sharp sensation piercing through your torso that makes you stumble back. Losing your footing you fall into Taehyung, your body never hitting the ground. Taehyung catching your weight, lowering with you. Resting you on his legs.

Taehyung grimaces in pain, his hand wrapping his own side momentarily. The bullet went clean through you and cut his side before flying into the wall behind the both of you. Dismissing his own injury, he leans over your body, ripping off his shirt and pressing it and his palms into your entrance wound. Trying to slow the bleeding.

Looking up at Taehyung with tear-filled eyes, you're in shock. Every breath you take is sore but other than that, your body is numb. Your hands clinging to his, all you can think is that you wished you knew what to say or do to lessen his panic. The sweat on his forehead rolls into the cut on his cheek causing the blood to drip further down his neck and chest. The fear and worry in his eyes exposing what you can't see or feel. That you're losing a lot of blood.

The supplier comes over the top of you both. He presses the barrel of the gun into the back of Taehyungs head, forcing him to crouch lower over you.

"I was searching for a reason to annihilate Namjoon and his pathetic crew. Thank you for giving me one." He digs the gun down harder. Taehyung growls, baring his teeth in frustration. "Too bad we didn't get to finish what we started though, Y/n. Oh well." He smirks, cocking the gun for additional effect.

"I love you," Taehyung whispers, the finality in his voice breaking your restraint, tears gushing down your face.

"I-," you can only begin.

Another blast rings out that makes both you and Taehyung jump. The supplier's body goes heavy and plummets to the ground, smashing through the glass coffee table beside you. Glass shatters everywhere as he falls down dead, blood pouring out of his head, collecting into a pool.

"Fuck sakes." Namjoon sighs from the living room entrance. Standing with Jin, both looking over the destruction with disbelief.

"Hyung," Taehyung calls out, his voice raspy and on the verge of tears. "Help." He looks down at you, your face pale, your limps drooping as the blood loss is starting to make you dizzy.

Namjoon opens his mouth readying to scold his brother, but he quickly stops himself. His own faults glaringly obvious at this moment. Jin removes his belt, wrapping it around your waist he fixes it tightly, making you whine in pain, keeping Taehyungs shirt pressed to both sides of your wound.

"Can you carry her?" Jin asks his younger brother.

Namjoon passes all of you, walking toward the lifeless body of his enemy, shooting another round into the back of his head with a frustrated look in his eye.

Taehyung nods at Jin with wide, panicked eyes.

"Then bring her." Namjoon turns with a flick of his head gesturing to follow him.

Jin supports Taehyung as he struggles to get himself and you to a standing position. Finding more strength once he is upright, lifting you into his arms as you whimper and moan weakly.

"Taehyung-" you start, your words sounding breathless and weak. "I'm sorry," you whisper.

"Shh baby." He hushes you. "Don't worry about that now."

He gets you into Namjoons truck, laying you down the length of the seat. As Namjoon speeds to the hospital, Taehyung sits in the back, his legs under your head. Holding firm against your bullet wound while petting your head.

Jin takes Tae's keys and follows you in his car. Already calling a cleanup crew to get rid of the supplier's body. Trying to salvage what he can of the bad situation.

"Namjoon," you call out. Even as your mind is starting to slip into unconsciousness your worry over the family is consuming your focus. "the plan. Can you fix the-" you breathe heavily running out of air.

He looks over his shoulder, guilt overtaking his expression. Nodding with an affirming grunt.

"Plan? What plan?" Taehyung muses, the shock steadily drifting away. "What is she talking about, Hyung?" One look at the blame on Namjoon's face and it clicks into place. "What did you do?"

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this." Namjoon reasons.

"Are you kidding me? You organized this?!" He snaps, "How the fuck could you risk her like that?!"

"It was supposed to be easy. She wasn't meant to get hurt-"

"Well, clearly she did!" Taehyung roars, his hands bunching into fists.

"I'm sorry, Tae. I wanted to help." You whine, lifting your arm up to touch his chest, trying to soothe him in any way.

"It's okay, baby. I know you did." He coos kissing your forehead, Taehyung's rage immediately subsiding towards you. He takes your blood-drenched hands in his and kisses them lovingly. Kissing down your forearms, pressing your hands to his head in agony and want to have you closer. Wishing he could absorb your pain and suffering.

Returning his wrath to the leader his voice lowers, coming out like ice. "We're gonna talk about this once she's okay." He snarls, "And know, I hold you personally responsible for every second she's in pain."

Looking in the rearview mirror, Namjoon nods solemnly. "Yeah, I do too."

Luckily for you, you recover quickly, and no permanent physical damage was done. But the damage that was done to Namjoon and Taehyungs relationship, the repercussions caused for Bangtan, and the fall out from the supplier's death... well that's another story entirely.

#bts #yandere bts #bts fanfic #yandere #bangtan #yandere bangtan #yandere taehyung #bts reactions #mafia bts #mafia bangtan #bangtan mafia #mafia taehyung #mafia namjoon #mafia jin #bts smut #bts smut reactions #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #kim seokjin

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clarissalance · 4 years ago

Text

Who has the upper hand?

Pairing: Kaeya x G/N!Reader, mention of Varka and Diluc.

Warning: Slight swearing, Kaeya is a lil shit, reader being stubborn and scheming, immense tension

Summary: You’re so terrible at swordsmanship that you can’t withstand 2 strikes from Kaeya or, are you?

Word count: 3k5

Disclaimer: What is written in here is based on my imagination, nothing from this fic should be taken seriously. Most of the fact I put in this fic does not follow the lore of the game so it should only be taken as a grain of salt. For example: section 8 in Knight of Favonius codebook.

A/N: I struggle so much when I wrote this piece. This was suppose to be angstier but I tone down a little bit (because Kaeya was very OOC in my draft, I think he’s still a bit OOC in this fic but I tried my best ;-;, pls don’t bite me.)

How did author write a 50k+ oneshot? I can’t write something more than 5k properly ;-; Anyhow, please enjoy this fic. I’m going to have a good rest for 2 weeks before release a comeback. Please shower Kaeya and our new MC with a lot of loves!!!!

As a strategist of the knight of Favonius, you don't usually have enough time to finish the towers of reports, the never-ending meetings and dealing with cheap tricks Fatui diplomats. Often, you have to skip your daily sword training session, which results in a rather miserable situation. The whole practice ground is staring holes at your defeated posture. You are sitting on the hard soil ground, and the Calvary captain is towering you, his sharp blade just a few inches away from your throat.

It is not a strange scene for any knights to lose a spar against the Calvary captain, he should be one with the best swordsmanship after Grand Master, and maybe Acting-Grand Master, too. However, as knight, they can usually withstand him at least more than 2 blows.

Whispers and talks start to circulate around as soon as you stepped your foot in the training ground. It’s very uncommon to see people from that department wandering around this area. The strategy department is famous inside the Knight of Favonius to be the weakling-cunning-mouthy-jerks, who always find excuses after excuses to skip the monthly knight evaluation.

So, who gives them the right to be exempt from the test? Of course, it’s from the ultimate high chief of strategy department. Rumours say before the strategy chief works for the Favonius knight, the man was once a legendary attorney. That person can flip words from black to white, turns the defendant from guilty to innocent. With a profound convincing skillset coming from the chief, persuading the Grand Master Varka is easy as a piece of cake. The whole department of 10 people is easily off-hook for 3 years, never participate in the monthly evaluation before the man suddenly dropped the bomb 2 days ago.

“ I’m tired from coming with excuses to cover for your lazy asses.” The man waved his hand, his eyes staring outside the window. His nails scratching the messy shaved chin.“ Varka seems to get used to navigating my thoughts-”

“Maybe time is wearing away your skill-” At the corner, someone accidentally blurted out, and the whole table gave him a sharp look. Did he have a death wish or something? If so, everyone here can happily dig him a hole, free charge for the coffin.

The chief cleared his voice again, blue eyes melancholy drifted to the table. “So, you guys have tried your best on this monthly evaluation. I hope to see you all again next month.”

The meeting was dismissed afterwards, and everything spiralled into chaos. The whole department hasn’t touched anything aside from the parchment papers and the quills in the last 3 years. How are they going to master the swordman-ship in 2 weeks?

But, the worst thing is,

Your well-respected, talented, and tactful chief has run away.

The next morning, you received the news that a foxy old man is on a business trip to Fontaine with the Grand Master. The expedition is 2 weeks long.

You should have known what he meant when the deceitful man ambiguously ended his sentence like that. Nothing goes well when the chief said: ‘Farewell, my comrades’.

For the last 2 days, you have been starting to familiarize yourself again with how to hold a sword and how to swing the sword.

As you trail along with the long-forgotten memories, trying to look through the familiar feeling when swinging the sword, you hear footsteps coming in your direction. It is familiar, with the way the person is walking, the beat, the sudden burst of noise in the air, you can only conclude it’s the Calvary Captain. The practice ground seems livelier as soon as the man steps inside, people rushing to his side to give their greetings. Maybe today is one of his practice days.

“ Never thought I would see you here.” The young man calls out, successfully jostle you up from your thoughts. You give him a complex look and turn away, focusing on the tattered dummies. Your wrist is screaming in protest, legs wobbling. You remember those golden days when you were young when you were flexible, and your bones didn't crack as much. Oh, where the golden days have gone?

“What do I own the honour of seeing you here, captain?” You fold your arm defensively, voice monotonously. Kaeya despites the most when you start talking in an emotionless tone. Oh, how you love riling him up in the middle of the practice ground!

“ I come here for my weekly practice, but-” He shrugs, eyes glinting with mischief. “ look like the rumour about the abolishment of special permission for the strategy department is true.”

So he has heard the rumours. You roll your eyes, face blanks. You know Kaeya has his own way to obtain his information, but you never thought it’d be this fast. Words don’t easily leak from the strategy department.

“What do you need? Make it short, so I can practice for the upcoming evaluation.” Tired of his long introduction, you ask him directly. If you are going to ignore him any longer, the man will continue poking you.

Starting an argument only wastes your time, and asserting dominance in the middle of the training ground won’t boost your ego. You’re a strategist, your weapons are detailed plans and sharp word, not sword and bow. Showing off your strength in front of those ruthless knights don't improve your relationship with them.

“ Straight the point eh?” You give him an impatiently look, tempting to ignore him again before he flashes you a smug grin. “How bout sparing with me?”

The whole training ground falls in silence, and you direct at the captain a confusing look. Is he serious? No one in the knight except the Grand Master can go against him, not to mention someone who hasn’t touched a sword for three years.

“I can help you with your training, and you can help with mine” Kaeya speaks with utmost confidence that you almost nod and agree. That man is really deceitful, he knows how well your skill has gone dull, yet he still wants to practice with you? What is this man plotting?

“ Do you realize how absurd your offer is? ” You give him a complicated gaze, voice unwavering. Everyone takes in a deep breath, tension crackling. It's not everyday scenery you often encounter. A heated argument between the mischievous cavalry captain and the tactful strategist. Nosy people gather around the pair, internally hoping for the war the breaks out.

“ You know well that I can’t properly block your first strike.” Light-hearted, you joke, but there is no hint of amusement in your voice. Sharpe eyes glaring at the blue figure, you notice the man remains unfazed.

" Shouldn't you choose a more competent opponent?"

The sound whispers and talking about the reasons why Kaeya picked such an easy opponent start to circulate, and you can’t help to curl your lips up. Within a few seconds, you have effortlessly turned the gossiping direction toward your desired path. Flashing Kaeya a victorious grin, you tap your foot impatiently, waiting for his reaction.

You should have worked at PR damage control or marketing instead! The diplomat would have been fine too! At least, you wouldn’t need to practice swordman-ship.

As you mulling on your terrible choice of career, a chill runs down your spine. Tilting up, Kaeya is beaming sweetly at you, the frost slowly creeping up and nipping your shoes. Look like you just pressed the wrong button.

The man narrows his eyes, and you gulp nervously, avoiding his calculating gaze. Kaeya chuckles, his voice laced with worry, wavering and hurtful.

“I just want to help you improve as fast as possible. The test is coming in two weeks isn't it?”

The whole table has turned, and people start to say how considerate and thoughtful the cavalry captain is. The crowd starts to criticize you and tell you to be more grateful and stop suspicious of his unconditional help. Oh, you wish he wasting it on you, many knights in this training ground would love getting advice and improvements from him.

Applause for our dear Calvary captain, smoothly seeking empathy from the crowd and turning the favour back to him. No wonder how fast he climbed up the rank.

Bantering and arguing with a person like him is meaningless, so you accept his offer and drag your sword toward his direction. Let finish this within 2 strikes.

Moving to the centre of the field, both of you face each other, his eyes scanning you sceptically. What is this man plotting again? Bowing, you finally give him a warning look before standing at your ready position. Kaeya holds his sword, analyzing your starting posture.

As soon as the whistle blows, you charge at the man, opening the spar with a direct hit. Kaeya quickly raises his word up to block the first blow, the sound of steel clashing loudly. He then forcefully diverts the sword to the left, a classic way to counter the strike.

Knowing your limited strength against him, you take a step back and swiftly angle the blade downward, aiming for a weak spot at his waist. This move would create a noticeable weakness on your right, and only the idiot doesn't use this as his advantage to disarm you.

You’re right, he uses the loophole you planned, successfully disarm you within 2 strikes. The sword slips from your hand clanging loudly behind as your foot slips and fall on the ground.

His sharp blade is just a few inches away from your neck. The calvary captain wears a solemn look, his cerulean eyes imbued with irritation. Seems like he figures out you purposefully planed to end the match in 2 strikes.

Quickly raising your hand in defeat, you shoot him a taunting grin. The referee declares Kaeya is the winner, and people start to clap and cheer loudly, but overall no one is surprised. As the match end, audiences start to disperse, return back to their tasks.

Kaeya put his sword away and offers you his hand. You stare idly at the gloved hand a moment before putting yours on. The man effortlessly pulls you up, your body flush against his. With Kaeya so close to you, your first reaction is to push the man away, but his firm grip says otherwise. He inches closer, dark blue locks brush your cheek, tall figure towering you intimidating.

“Why end it so early?” He leans down and whispers, your body tenses up visibly. “Surely, you could handle more than 2 strikes of mine.” The young man in blue hums, his voice sultry.

“ What are you saying? I haven’t touched the sword more than 3 years.” You remind him, hands pushing his chest away, trying to create some distance. The man doesn’t budge an inch.

“Your strikes doesn’t say so. The first strike was not bad.” Noticing your effort to push him away, Kaeya stands straight, heels dig into the ground. His lips curl up at the helplessness flashing in your eyes. He loves seeing you struggle, seeing how anxiety and desperation rising in your sparkling orbs. “I think you could at least have a decent fight with me.”

“ Quit spouting non-sense Kaeya, let me go. We are in public.” You let out an annoyed hiss, punching his toned chest. He still wears the uniform improperly like that, the exposed tan chest can be under many layers. Sometimes you don't even know the reason why doesn't he just button the shirt up properly. Finger grazing at the bared skin on his chest, you turn your head away, cheeks heat up.

The man loves seeing you squirming in his trap, and you’re not going to let him see that. Anything, but satisfying his masochist hobby.

“You don’t like skin-ship?” The man fakes a gasp, his orb sparkles with mirth. “But you were being touchy with your friend. Why can't we be a bit touchy? ” His tone suggestively, the tall man snickers at your blushing mess. Out of everything, why would he mention that? You give him stinky eyes, brows furrow deeply.

“I’m not touchy with you.” You deny dreadfully. Archon, how long have you wasted your time here with this slithering serpent?

Kaeya arms wrap tightly around you, your body moulds perfectly into his embrace. You hate how perfectly you fit into his hug like this, but you can’t deny how warm he is, despite the fact he wields cryo.

“ When will you let me go?” Your voice starts to grow weak, dragging slightly in discomfort. Kaeya curiously looks down, noticing your pouting. Sensing his gaze, you turn your head away but his fingers have quickly grabbed your cheek, forcing you to look at his deep blue eye.

“Give me a kiss, then I'd let you go.” His voice serious, but what he just said is not. You look at the cryo wielder horrendously, mouth gaping. His face is composed and relax, like what he just ask is like asking about the weather, asking about your health, not for a kiss. Is he being serious? What in the world did he just ask? A kiss? Excuse me, a what?

“You...you are not being serious.” You wriggle your way out, escaping from his fingers, but his embrace tightens, caging you inside. Damn it, Kaeya. He’s messing with you.

When you flash him a furious look, the man shrugs nonchalantly, his cerulean lock fluttering gently in the wind. Suddenly, you have an urge to wipe off that calm demeanour. He can’t be serious. Why does he have to go all the way to annoy the shit out of you?

The smug grin hanging on his face, the mischief in his blue eyes, the arching brows, everything about him screams a flirt, yet you feel so mesmerized. Blinking a few times, you have to constantly remind yourself this man is not trustworthy. From the attitude to the way he looks at you, to the way he acts around you. Nothing from his action is truthful. Like Diluc’s warning, you can only believe half of his word and action.

“ Of course I’m being serious.” His voice solemn, but you can see the amusement in his eyes. If he doesn’t like you, why would he spend so much effort bothering you this much? What reaction is he expecting from you?

“ I really like you, Y/N” Kaeya confesses cheerfully, and you can faintly hear a few gasps around. Not this again...

Archon, you’re going to die early at this rate. You just want to practice for the upcoming evaluation, not becoming a hot topic for all Mondstadt citizen to gossip about.

And this man too, how can he easily slip out those words when you just heard him flirting with another woman the other day? You already told him numerous times that you’re not interested in dating him, or anyone right now!

Hung your head down in exhaustion, you tap his shoulder, mumbling quietly. “ Fine, fine.” You finally open your mouth, too exhausted and bothered by his stubbornness. He only wants a kiss, and you won’t hurt giving him one. Just a kiss then you can get back to your practice.

“Just don’t confess your love to me in a crowd like this again.” Before closing the deal, you weakly add a bargain, nudging him.

The calvary captain looks surprised, his eye widens little, not expecting you to agree. Normally, it takes another argument or two before you comply with his request. Kaeya timidly raises his gloved hand to your face, gently caresses your cheek. This time, you lean into his touch, nuzzling your face into his palm, eyes glimmering softly. Despite a cryo wielder, his hand is surprisingly warm.

The man in blue curiously peeks at you, he feels like a feather tickling the itchy spot. Are you plotting an escape route? Since when did you become so obedient? He has never seen the soft fur under the spiky façade you set up to face with the world, but strangely, he likes this version of you more.

Noticing his relaxed stance, you carefully gently wrap your fingers around his wrist while keeping eye contact with him. Kaeya eye widens, startles at your sudden touching. Trying your best to not break the unspoken connection, you bring his hand away from your cheek. In those cerulean eyes, you see a hint of disappointment, but it quickly dissolves. Slowly, you draw closer toward the hand hanging in the air, lips fluttering on the smooth skin on his wrist.

The calvary captain instinctively moves back, trying to escape from your sudden contact. Ironic, he is the one who innates the hug and demands a kiss from you. Tightening your grip, you press your wet lips on the exposed part of his wrist dedicatedly while maintaining eye contact with him, eyes drown with submission.

Kaeya stares at you in awe, maybe not expecting the passionate look in your eyes. His azure eye fills with mischief, now replaces with confusion and hesitation. You notice how his ears have dusted with pink despite the winds blowing in the practice ground. The man avoids your eyes, flustering.

Whispers and gasps start to remind you of the crushing reality, so you let his hand down while grinning cheekily at the cryo wielder. Poking and breaking Kaeya meticulously façade is always something you want to try. The man is a living devil, so it’s extremely unusual to see him losing his composure.

Sneakily, you untangle his other arm wrapping around your waist, plotting an escape route.

However, Barbatos doesn’t let you slip away that easily. Quickly regaining his composure, Kaeya snakes his hand around your hip again, tightening his hold. Unlike the first time, the sneaky bastard lifts you up and has the audacity to throw your body on his shoulder, carry you like a sack.

“ Yah! What are you doing?” You exclaim, fluster at his sudden antic. Kicking and punching on his shoulder, you try as many as you can, but somehow, Kaeya manages to dodge all of them.

“ You said you will let me go when I give you a kiss!” The crowd uproars, stares and gossips poke pointedly at your back. You don’t want to hear those comments from those knights again. They're not going to let this live down, aren't they? Bury your face in the Kaeya's furry collar, you let out a frustrating sigh, punching his shoulder as hard as you can.

“ You give me a kiss on my wrist. That doesn’t count.” Kaeya nonchalantly strides away from the practice ground, unfazed by your attempt to escape. This man is a beast, how can he not budge an inch with all of your kickings on his shoulder?

“ You didn’t specify the place. A kiss is a kiss!” You emphasize, and you can feel his shoulder shaking. Is he laughing? “You didn’t keep your promise.” Fuels by the rising anger, you kick your leg aggressively, struggling to free yourself from the iron-clad grip. This time, his strong arm wraps around your calves like a chain.

As soon as you raise your head up, the familiar pathway hits your memories. Shit, he is heading toward the headquarter, likely to his office. You can’t let anyone in there see you in this state. Punching his back profusely, you shot back.

“Not fulfilling the contract is breaking the Knight of Favonius's code of cond-.” Before you can finish your sentence, the man smacks your calves loudly, successfully shutting your mouth. Speechless by his sudden punishment, you let out a disbelief breath.

“ There are no such a section states about fulfilling contract inside the code of conduct, so stop making the rule up.” Kaeya smugly grins, and you can already picture his blue eyes glinting with mischief, the signature shit-eating grin on his handsome face.

" There is, it's in section eight-" Before you can finish your sentence, Kaeya cuts in, waving his hand dismissively.

" Section eight is about interaction with your co-worker, there is none about keeping contracts." The calvary captain humming, trying to recalling the content of the book. Speechless by the detailed memories of his, you can only close your mouth, quietly waiting for him to drop you down. If you stay still on his shoulder, will he let you go?

" You know, not everyone reads and memories the knight of Favonius handbook, you are just unlucky that I know the book by heart." Seeing you deflate weakly on his shoulder, Kaeya lets out a chuckle, patting your head comforting.

Before heading inside the HQ, the man doesn't drop your down but leans in closely, his whisper tickling your ear. “But at least I had fun seeing you squirming in my grasp.”

And then it hits you, the bastard purposely falls for of your antic.

#kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #kaeya x reader #no beta we kayak like tim #genshin impact #clarissalance #who has the upper hand ?#argument #fluff #tension #smart reader #strategist #genshin varka #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc

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lovelybarnes · 4 years ago

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reckless- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, platonic!sam wilson, platonic!natasha romanoff, platonic!steve rogers

warnings: mentions of injuries, descriptions of fighting, angry bucky, a horrible ending, i kind of really hate this

about: “the things i feel for her are unlike anything i’ve ever felt before.” for a sleepover!

i actually wrote another one with the same quote but i didn’t think it fit so i changed it (that one will be posted tomorrow or the day after so i can edit it)

you’re annoyingly reckless to a point where it gets dangerous.

he’s told you this a thousand times before but you don’t listen- aren’t listening at the moment.

he knows it’s ironic that he’s being reckless by not paying attention to what’s going on, too concentrated on you- even if you’ve told him countless times that you literally can’t die (to which he responds with a “you never know!” because, really do you?)- but he has a metal arm and sam, who’s been hovering around him like a vulture after noticing his lack of concentration.

before he can react to it, a slimy arm is promptly cut off by you, the blade you threw now back in your hands and stained green with the things’ blood. you scowl at it and shoot him a dirty look, “pay fucking attention!” you demand, shaking the weapon haphazardly to get the goo off. he can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth but rolls his eyes and obeys, knocking an ugly alien down and crushing its chest with his boot.

he can still hear your cocky remarks and giggles- yes, giggles, you giggle when you fight life threatening menaces- paired with the gross sounds of your knife impaling the aliens they’re fighting. it’s the only thing keeping him from practically babysitting you, a reassurance that you’re there, careless and impetuous, but alive and close.

suddenly, he can’t hear you, and he turns to what he quite possibly believes to be the most disgusting thing he’s seen in his life (and it’s been a long one, so far). you’re blue, covered in a slimy substance, and your face is so red, it’s beginning to look nearly purple with the cyan sheen over it. you screech abruptly, wiping at your face angrily and jumping at the thing that probably did that to you. he nearly feels pity for it. nearly, because, in your rage, you hadn’t even noticed the large gash along your shoulder. before he can go to you before you kill yourself, his metal arm feels like it’s being sucked, taking him with it, and he grunts. “what the fuck-” he manages, unsure of what he’s looking at, but trying to cut through the sticky arm attached to his own. you’re there in five seconds flat, still blue and still angry, which he notices makes the slicing through the appendage easier.

you seem to decide to stay with him after that, and he’s not sure if he’s offended because you don’t think he can take care of himself- which is ridiculous, since this only happened because he was taking care of you- or touched.

“god, i wish i had wanda’s powers. chaos magick works a lot faster than causing chaos,” you complain, trying to wipe away the blue sludge at the same time and wincing when it tugs at your injury. he is reminded of the shoulder wound he nearly got his arm ripped off for trying to warn you, and he stops your hand. “you’re bleeding, you should probably be a little more careful with this.” he motions to your arm, avoiding touching it.

you frown at him, “it’s fine, it’s just a little cut.” (it’s most certainly not a “little cut.”)

“y/n-”

you extend the hurt arm over him and flick your hands when you see an alien about to rip bucky’s head off, a grimace passing your face that he sees but you try to cover up anyways. “see? it hurts you, you need-”

“i just saved your life, would a hurt person be able to do that?” you cut him off, and he stares at you. noticing a green thing coming up behind you, he grabs your waist and moves you out of the way, shooting it with his gun and watching as it drops to the ground. “ow!” you protest, “you hurt my-” seeming to realize you’re about to prove him right, you shut up and roll your eyes. “you’re welcome,” bucky huffs, wiping away some of the blue stuff from your cheek.

your cheeks warm against his touch without your permission, and you turn away. bucky smirks at your reaction.

“shut up,” you grumble, extending your fingers and aiming at a group of the aliens ganging up on natasha. they freeze for the few seconds they’re under your control, and nat manages to take out two in the moment. the three left break out of the trance, turn to each other, and begin to fight. natasha makes eye contact with you in a form of thanks and starts to take the rest out. you hear a gun go off behind you and turn to see one of the things that sprayed you on the floor. bucky saved you again, great, it’s not like he’ll rub it in your face forever.

“you need to pay attention, what if i’m not here?” bucky scolds. “then never leave,” you flirt casually in response. with a few twirls of your finger, most of the aliens stop paying attention to your team and begin attacking their own teammates.

you don’t notice when one of the few unaffected beings picks up a discarded gun and shoots at you twice. bucky moves you away from a head shot, but one lands opposite to the bleeding slash on your shoulder, and the other hits your thigh.

“goddamnit, y/n, pay attention!” bucky growls, holding up your full weight when your adrenaline begins to run out and everything becomes blurry. “‘m fine,” you try to reassure, attempting to stand back on your wobbly legs. bucky doesn’t let you, shooting at as many aliens as he can with one gun. he turns to look at your state after he shoots most of them, allowing the others to take care of it while he tries to take care of you. his metal hand is touching the small device in his ear, telling the others the situation while his other arm holds you up. you might be delirious now, and your eyelids are becoming increasingly difficult to keep up. “hm, i’m not going to die, b’cky.” you tell him, noticing the increasing panic in his voice as he talks to steve. “stop saying that, how would you know if you haven’t died yet?”

his question is confusing for your foggy brain, so you decide to skip it, unknowingly making his worries worse. the blood running down your back isn’t stopping, and bucky stops for a second to lift you up completely, tucking his hand underneath your knees to carry you. at the tug at your thigh, you bite back a scream. bucky pretends not to notice; his hands are covered in a warm red. he’s trying his best to ignore it.

“don’t die,” bucky whispers again and again, making you frown, “how many times do i ‘ave to tell you i can’t die?”

“i’ll believe it when you don’t,” bucky mutters, and the blue sky turns to gray when he’s inside the quinjet. he sets you down on the medbay cot, looking lost as he calls out friday’s name. “yes, mister barnes?”

“y/n- uh-”

“do a scan on me and… and treat accordingly,” you interrupt. “scanning now,” friday obeys, and you turn to bucky. “by the time you figured it out i would have bled out.”

“that’s not funny, y/n,” bucky says seriously. you squeeze your eyes shut for a second, “calm down, i’ll be fine.” friday has enclosed you in some clear glass, red grids letting you know of your condition. “ooh, that’s bad,” you mumble, much to the dismay of your boyfriend. “what?” said boyfriend asks, and you wave him off as best you can- which means a pathetic bounce of your arm- and tell him to let friday do her thing. “we are not done here,” bucky instructs, but sits next to you and holds your hand. you can see his glossed eyes now, you wonder how you didn’t see them before.

“shouldn’t you be fighting?” you ask, a wave of exhaustion crashing over you. rest, your body begs. you’ll comply later. “they’re almost done, the chaos thing you did makes their job a lot easier.”

“‘s what i do,” you say breathily before falling asleep.

you’re still in the quinjet the next time you open your eyes, which lets you know it’s only been a few hours and you’re feeling better already. goddess healing, you think, looking around to see bucky’s hand still around yours. he looks worried, the hard lines usually softened by the sound of your voice as hard as you’ve ever seen them. you squeeze his fingers gently. “bucky,” you coo, “i’m not dying anymore.”

bucky turns to you immediately, squinting, “that’s not funny.” it’s like deja vu, but you’re not sure from where.

a vein on bucky’s neck throbs, and you’re aware that you’re pushing it, so you stop for a second, “i was just kidding, i-”

“no!-” bucky’s voice is near yelling, so he shuts his eyes for a moment, continuing in a lower voice, “you almost died, do you know how terrifying that is? you nearly bled out in my arms.” sam, nat and steve, who were waiting for you to wake up next to bucky, pause when he raises his voice. “bucky-” you start, softer now, trying to sit up. bucky stands, “listen to me!”

steve stands, beginning to put a hand on bucky’s shoulder, “buck-” he’s silenced with a cold look from bucky. sam gets to his feet too, telling steve and nat to give you both a minute. they do, after nat kisses your cheek like she always does when you get hurt. you’re sitting on the edge of the bed now, reaching for bucky, “bucky?”

“you don’t… you don’t know how much you scared me, y/n. you have to stop being so careless,” he says after a few seconds. you furrow your brows, “i’m not careless, i’m confident in my skills.”

“you are. you’re careless and reckless and hasty and i need you to not be,” he says harshly, you frown. “why? i’m fine and i’m always going to be-”

“you don’t- you don’t understand!-” bucky snaps. “then help me understand,” you implore. bucky closes his eyes tightly again, breathing in slowly. “the things... that i feel for you are unlike anything i have ever felt before, and i can’t- i can’t lose you, okay?”

“you’re not going to,” you assure, extending your arms towards him, noting the tiny ache in response. he walks over to you, letting you grab his jaw when he’s close, you run your fingers over his cheeks gently. “i’ll be more careful,” you promise. bucky nods, tucking his face into the dip of your neck. you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, letting him squeeze your waist almost to reassure himself you’re actually there.

“hey,” you say quietly after a few moments, pressing tender kisses to bucky’s cheek, “sit down, i want to do something.” you stand, grabbing onto bucky’s arm when you stumble a little and promise him you’re fine and are taking it easy. you take out the first aid kit from one of the cabinets, setting it down next to bucky, opening it and taking out everything you need. you begin to clean his cuts, putting a pink hello kitty bandaid over one of his particularly bad ones. it’ll be gone within a day, but you can’t resist, and it makes him laugh.

you hum while you dab at a small scratch next to his eye, and he chuckles lowly, you look up at him, “what?”

“you’re still a little blue.”

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helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

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(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Tuesday

Monday Wednesday Thursday (Part 1) Thursday (Part 2) Friday Saturday Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: anxiety, doctor’s offices, taking pain pills (not sure if I need to tag that, but just in case), stalkers, blackmail, swearing, non-consensual taking pics of nudes, slight body dysmorphia, self-loathing, toxic friends

Word count: 5,326

(A/N): another long chapter, my little wlw heart loved writing this chapter! Also holy shit I was not expecting the first part to blow up, thank you to everyone that read it! Gosh, it’s enough to make a grown woman cry :’)

You cracked open your crusty eyes to Wilbur poking his head into your room. “(Y/n), Dad wants you.”

You groaned rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to get the sleep out of them. “I’ll be down in a sec.” Your voice was scratchy and thick with sleep.

He closed the door silently and you heard his socked feet thumping down the hallway. Your pain faded slightly into soreness, but your shoulders and upper back were slightly stiff. After you drug yourself out of bed, you shambled down the stairs to see your family at the table eating breakfast. Your stomach growled loudly, making you blush slightly in embarrassment.

Your eldest brother snorted. “Hungry (y/n)?”

You slumped into your seat next to him slowly shoveling food into your mouth. “You have no idea.”

“You wouldn’t be that hungry if you ate dinner when you got home like I told you to do last night, young lady. You better eat every single thing on that plate.”

There was no arguing with a stern Dadza, so you reluctantly complied. Meanwhile, Tommy and Tubbo were telling Wilbur about your match animatedly.

“And the ball was like fwoosh and she- the ball and-and-”

“And she hit it and Haley hit it to the other side! It was so cool!”

Wilbur merely smiled listening to them ramble about how badass you were last night. They made you feel genuinely happy that they admired your volleyball abilities; they were probably your biggest fans and that made your day most of the time. You remembered the first match they came to during your freshman year, they had run up to you right after the end-of-match whistle blew to spew about how good you were on the court. They met the team that day. Your team adored having them at your games, over the years they slowly replaced your school’s mascot. They played a huge part in morale boosts before and during matches.

He looked over to you, “I didn’t know my little sister could be so badass.”

You felt your cheeks flare up. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. It really wasn’t anything special.”

“(Y/n),” Philza pursed his lips, “you did all that with a bruised back, I’d consider that something special.”

“Wait (y/n), you’re hurt?” Tommy and Tubbo looked at you with wide concerned eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s not that bad. I can still move and stuff.”

Techno rolled his eyes, “it’s bad if you’re going to the doctor for it.”

“Eh, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it did yesterday, so I’m not worried.”

“You’re deadass wincing everytime you move your arm,” WIlbur deadpanned, “it clearly still hurts.”

“Well yeah, I didn’t say the pain went away completely. Fuckin’ dumbass.”

“Language,” Philza glared at you two, gesturing to the two fifth graders watching the exchange with interest.

You and Wilbur resumed eating and murmured out a defeated “sorry Dad.” You both glared at Techno when he huffed in amusement.

“If you three keep bickering, you’re going to be late to school. Remember, you two have to drop off Tommy and Tubbo today cuz I’m taking your sister to her appointment. Now go get ready, I’ll take care of your dishes.”

Your brothers took off up the stairs, each competing to get to the bathroom first. Occasionally, you would hear shouts and slapping noises. You felt glad you didn’t have to deal with that today. Judging by Techno’s gruff voice laughing and an explosion of loud complaints from the rest, you assumed that he won today. “I swear, they’re gonna put me in an early grave.”

“You and me both Dad, you and me both.”

You went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of pain pills from the junk drawer. Various bottles of Motrin and Advil were scattered around the house because when you live with a rambunctious family like this one, people are bound to get hurt and headaches are common. Popping three into your mouth, you washed it down with a glass of water. The sound of the running water faucet and the slight splashing of water filled the silence of the room.

“How’s your back? Does it feel any better?”

“Kinda, today it just feels more sore than throbbing, my headache went away mostly, and my shoulder doesn’t feel any worse, so that’s better I guess.”

He shut off the water and reached for a towel to dry off his wet hands. He moved over to the freezer and grabbed a frozen package of peas that your family never ate. You all used it whenever one of you would get a bruise. He moved behind you and held it against your back without warning. Flinching forward from the unexpected temperature change, you winced with the wave of pain moving brought you.

“Shit, sorry.”

“You’re good. Just give me a little warning next time,” you chuckled. He gently placed it back on your back and you sighed from the slight relief that it brought you. You leaned into the peas and closed your eyes. “That feels amazing.”

“I bet. That bruise was pretty bad yesterday, can I look at it again?”

You reluctantly left the sanctuary that was the medical grade frozen peas and leaned forward, moving your hair out of the way for him. “Knock yourself out.”

He made a hissing noise as soon as he moved your shirt out of the way. “Dad, it probably looks worse than it feels.”

“...Have you seriously not looked at this yet? It looks pretty bad, hun.”

“Well, sorry I can’t move to look at my back without being in pain. I’ll try harder next time.” You snarked him.

“Hey, watch the attitude. Here, I’ll take a picture so you can see how bad it is.”

You heard the rustling of fabric as he fished his phone out of his pocket and the obnoxiously loud click of his camera app. You turned around to look at the damage. You squinted at his bright phone screen. Your entire back was swollen in some areas and was covered in ugly reds, blues, blacks, and purples. You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and cringed away from the screen. You always got nauseous seeing injuries.

“Yikes.”

“Yikes isn’t the only word I would use, it’s bad (y/n).”

“It looks worse than it feels, I promise. I’m gonna go get ready so we’re not late to my appointment. It sounds like the boys are finally done with the bathroom.”

You hobbled up the stairs slowly and made your way to the bathroom. The door was wide open ready for you to use. Turning on the light, you closed the door in a hurry so that your brothers wouldn’t try to get in again to hog the bathroom like they usually did. You frowned at your appearance. Your hair was sticking up in every direction and you had dark eye bags around your dull looking eyes. A few pimples dotted your skin like constellations in the night sky, but much uglier and more out of place. Turning your body, you scanned your figure. Your eyes watered as you realized that you had gained some weight. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were right, you looked like garbage all the time.

You ripped your eyes away from yourself in the mirror with disgust etched deep into your features. You were disgusting through and through. Ripping your brush through your hair, you winced at the pain emanating from the back of your head. You deserve the pain for letting yourself go. Once you were slightly more satisfied with your appearance, you stepped out of the bathroom and quickly changed into the clothes you would wear today. You decided on a hoodie and a pair of tights. You didn’t feel like dressing yourself up.

You once again walked down the stairs and slipped on your shoes to meet your dad in his car. You idly scrolled through your phone while you waited for him, looking at your notifications for the first time that day. You had ten texts from the group chat that you were in with Adrian, Annie, and Sammy.

Sammy <3

(Y/n) where the hell are you?

Adrian <3

Do you guys think she ditched us?

I knew she was ignoring us

Sammy <3

Who ignores their friends?

Annie <3

(Y/n) apparently.

She has more important things to do ig

Oh my god

Do you guys think she skipped school?

Adrian <3

I wouldn’t put it past her

Maybe she finally gave up

(Y/n)

I’m sorry guys, I just have a doctor’s appointment today

I would never ignore you

Sammy <3

Yk, it’s hard to keep defending you when you keep ditching us..

(Y/n)

I’m not ditching you!

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys about my appointment

I’ll make it up to you guys

Adrian <3

How?

You’ve already skipped out on us enough already

Annie <3

Oh ik!

She can write our final research paper for us Dri!

I haven’t started it yet lmao

Adrian <3

Saaaame lmaoooo

Sammy <3

Guys, what about me???

Adrian <3

Idk, figure it out yourself

Sammy <3

Rude!

Uhhh

Ur gonna put together my final presentation for us history

(Y/n)

Alright, I can do that for you guys

Sam can you pls send me the rubric?

Annie <3

Thanks love ;)

(Y/n)

No problem, I like doing things for friends

My dad’s coming, I gotta go

Talk to you guys later

Adrian <3

Byeeee (y/n), ur the best!

(Y/n)

: ) <3

You put your phone down as your dad started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. The drive was quiet as you stared out the window and thought about how much work you now had to do. On top of your own classes, you had two more to write and a presentation to make in a class you hadn’t taken since the first semester in your sophomore year. The research papers had to be at least four full pages long with a minimum of ten sources each due on Friday and you had no idea how big Sammy’s US history presentation has to be or what it’s even about. But that was fine, you’d do anything for your friends.

“So, who were you texting? Your boyfriend?” He asked jokingly.

“Oh, just Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. I don’t have a boyfriend Dad,” because you were a closeted lesbian, but you wouldn’t tell him that anytime soon. “You know that.”

“I know,” he chuckled, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen them. How have they been?”

“They’re good. Adrian got a job at the diner, he’s a host. Sammy and Annie have been focusing more on raising their grades.”

“Good for them! You should invite them over for dinner sometime.”

“I was actually thinking that I could maybe go hang out with them on Halloween...?”

“(Y/n), the family was going to take Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating.”

“I know, but there’s always next year. Plus, we haven’t been able to hang out in so long! We’re always free at different times.”

“I don’t know (y/n), what if they don’t want to trick-or-treat next year? What were you planning on doing with them?”

“We were just gonna hang out at Annie’s house and watch some horror movies,” you lied. He would never let you go if he knew you were going to a party. Especially one where alcohol would be involved and hormonal teenage boys ran rampant actively scouting for an easy lay.

“...I’ll think about it.” The car pulled into the doctor office’s parking lot.

“Thank you Dad! It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out together.”

He chuckled as you both walked into the lobby, checked in, and waited for your name to be called. About ten minutes later, you were summoned by a nurse so you went into the back leaving your dad to wait in the lobby. The nurse recorded your height and weight (much to your dismay, you gained four pounds) and asked you the standard questions about your injury and uncomfortable questions about your overall health. The clacking of her acrylic nails on the plastic keyboard filled the awkward silence.

Once that was done, she left and you had to wait a little bit for the doctor. After slipping into the backless gown the nurse left, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Jumping when someone knocked on the door, you looked up to see your family’s doctor smiling at you.

“Hello (y/n), how are we feeling today?”

“I’m alright.”

“I hear that you had quite the fall onto some concrete, is that true?”

“Yes, I landed on my back and the back of my head.”

She reached over and squirted hand sanitizer onto her hands, rubbing it in and looking back at you. “Can you please lay on your stomach so I can take a look at your back?”

You nodded, shifting on the uncomfortable paper covered cushioned table onto your stomach. You felt her cold hands gently graze your bruises before she pulled out her stethoscope. “Can you take a good deep breath in for me?”

You complied and she instructed you to let it out. Doing this multiple times along your back, she put her stethoscope away and continued prodding at your exposed back.

“There’s definitely some swelling in multiple areas… It doesn’t feel or sound like you cracked or broke any ribs, which is excellent… Do you have any pain deep in your shoulder when you move it?”

“Yes, I landed on it wrong last night at my volleyball match.”

“How would you describe your pain? Stabbing, sore, throbbing…”

“More sore, but a little stabbing pain when I move my arm.”

She moved her fingers to examine your shoulder. “It doesn’t sound like a sprain or fracture, can you move it up and down for me?”

You moved your arm up and down, front and back, and side to side. “You still have a full range of movement, that’s good. Can I have you sit back up again?”

You sat back up and she started testing you for a concussion. After passing her tests, you were cleared of having a concussion. “Alright (y/n), it appears that you only strained your deltoid and teres muscles and you have severe bruising along your back. Make sure you ice your back and, if you have one, wear a shoulder compression sleeve. Anti-inflammatory medications such as Ibuprofen will help with the swelling. Other than that, you have a clean bill of health! You can still participate in volleyball practices, but you need to take it easy. Don’t do anything that will strain the muscles any further.”

“Thank you Dr. Samson,” you smiled at her.

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave you to change back into your clothes and you’re free to go! You may leave the gown on the table.”

She left the room and you redressed yourself. Walking out to the lobby, Philza’s head perked up when he heard the door opening. He stood up and walked over to you with a slightly worried face. You both walked back out to the car.

“So?”

“Dr. Samson said that I don’t have a concussion, sprains or broken bones. She told me that I just strained my shoulder muscles and I need to keep ice on my back.”

He visibly slumped in relief. “Thank god. What’d she say about volleyball?”

“She said that I could keep playing, but I have to take it easy.”

“Good, wouldn’t want you missing finals on Thursday. Do you know if the team you’re playing is any good?”

“Dad, of course they’re good, we’re the top two teams in the area.”

“I bet their setter is nowhere near as good as you are and I bet the setter and spiker aren’t as synced as you and Haley are. You two make a good pair.”

“Yeah we do, don’t we?” You looked out the window and smiled a little and felt your ears turn red. The very mention of Haley’s name was enough to make you feel like you were on cloud nine. The car fell silent again as you neared your high school.

In your AP world history class, the class was looking at the test you had taken yesterday. Surprisingly, you got a 74% on the multiple choice part and a 50% on your essay portion, so that landed you with a just below passing grade. You thought you completely flunked that test yesterday, so that was a pleasant surprise. It took a good portion out of your overall grade in the class, lowering it from a comfortable A- to a slightly alarming B. You supposed it could’ve been a lot worse. Besides reviewing your tests, the class didn’t do much except starting the reading for the next chapter.

Your psychology online class went like it usually did, however your phone blew up with texts about midway through the block. Glancing down, you saw that it was Haley. Shouldn’t she be in class?

Hales : )

(Y/n) meet me in the locker room right after school

I need to talk to you before practice starts

It’s an emergency

(Y/n)

What’s going on?

Hales : )

I’ll explain after school.

Can’t talk about it over text

(Y/n)

Alright, see ya then ig

You felt your gut twinge. Something’s wrong, but you didn’t know what. You were worried about Haley, usually she was really bubbly. You’ve never seen the senior act so strange before. You could only wait the block out until the bell would release you from the confines of the library and into the locker room. After sending a quick text to your brothers that you were going to stay after school for your practice, you stared blankly at your laptop’s clock as you counted down the minutes left in the class period. Ten minutes. Eight minutes. Four minutes. Two minutes. Thirty seconds-

You shot up from your seat as the bell rang. Pushing past some groups of freshmen that congregated in the hallways, you made a beeline for the locker room. In the locker room, you found Haley sitting on the metal bench on the opposite end of the locker room with her back facing the last row of lockers and facing the brick wall. She was clenching her phone in her hand with an iron grip. You hurried to sit next to her.

“Hales, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

“It’s bad (y/n). Like, really bad.”

“What’s bad? You’re worrying me.”

Wordlessly, she unlocked her phone and handed it to you. On the screen was something that you weren’t expecting to see. You scrolled through the contents and felt your stomach drop with each scroll; someone took pictures of you and Haley throughout the match last night. Every picture was a violation to yours and Haley’s dignities, they had gotten zoomed in pictures of your boobs and asses. Deeper, there were even pictures taken of you changing into your volleyball uniform through your open window. You were only in your underwear. Haley had a similar picture that you scrolled past as fast as you could. Scrolling to the bottom of the text message thread, the person that sent Haley the pictures added a caption to the last picture. It was a picture of you and Haley together celebrating your match, her arm slung around your shoulder with your mouth open mid-laugh.

Unknown

I’m sending these out to the entire school unless you stop hanging around her.

If you tell anyone, the pics will be printed off and put in every single locker and bathroom the school has.

You’ll be the sluts of Klinkver High.

Cut all ties now. You have two days.

Do not try me.

“Jesus christ Haley. Who the fuck would do this? This is sick.”

She took her phone back and locked it without looking at the screen. “I don’t know (y/n). I wanted to tell you not to openly talk to me for a few days. We don’t know who took these, we don’t know what they’re capable of. I don’t wanna risk angering them.”

“We can find them! If we look close enough, we might find a few clues where they were sitting. Do you remember seeing anything suspicious last night?”

“(Y/n), our best option is to leave it. We just can’t talk in person anymore; we can still text each other.”

“Hales, how are we gonna not talk? I’m your setter.”

She ran a hand through her thick black hair. “I don’t know (y/n). Just-just don’t talk to me anymore, I don’t want your pictures leaked.”

“I don’t care about my pictures. My name’s been drug through so much shit this past year that it won’t affect me. I don’t want your stuff leaked.”

She gave a watery laugh, “you care too much, I love that about you…” Glistening eyes turned to look deep into your own. “I’m so scared (y/n), I don’t know what to do.”

You pulled her into a hug, wincing slightly when she squeezed her arms around your upper back. She buried her face into your shoulder and started shaking with muffled sobs. “Haley, I promise I’ll catch whatever sick bastard is doing this to you. You don’t deserve this.”

She said nothing as you rested your chin on the top of her head and started to rock her back and forth slowly. You two stayed like that even after her sobbing resided, finding comfort in each other’s presence. Glancing at the clock, you realized that you two have been in the locker room for an hour. Practice was set to start in fifteen minutes, people were going to start coming into the locker room soon.

You reluctantly pulled away from the hug and looked Haley in her bloodshot eyes, “I’m not going to let those pictures of you get leaked. I swear on my-”

The door to the locker room swung open and loud laughter echoed throughout the room. Haley pushed you away and speed walked off to a bathroom stall, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Damn (y/n), what’d you do? She’s pissed.”

“It’s none of your business, Zara.”

“Oh, so it’s a lover’s quarrel then~” She cackled, her hair bouncing slightly with each heave of her shoulders.

“For the love of… Haley and I aren’t dating, we’re both straight.” She’s straight.

“Mmhm.” She brushed past you to go to her locker. You followed her, your locker was in the grouping next to hers. You shared the area with Haley. You changed as fast as you could so that Haley would have time to change before practice starts. Speed walking into the gym, Zara was hot on your trail wearing a shit eating grin.

“Why are you in such a rush? Giving your girlfriend the silent treatment?”

“Zara. We aren’t dating. For the last time, we’re both heterosexual, not homosexual!” You wildly gestured with your hands to emphasize your point, your voice being amplified by the vast gym. Coach Williams gave you a confused look from across the gym.

“You just keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m serious.”

“Hi serious,” a soft voice replied from behind you, “I’m Jazzy.”

You groaned at the pun at the same time Zara started cackling, giving the short libero a high five. “Nice!”

“That was so bad, Jaz.” You couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto your face.

Zara poked your cheek with a wide grin. “C’mon, you’re smiling!”

“I am and I hate it.”

Your bickering continued with Jazzy watching you two with a content smile. The remaining members of the team (Haley, Marlene, and Zuri) filed into the gym right as Coach Williams blew her whistle.

Practice went by slowly without Haley talking to you. Sure, you had the rest of the team, but it didn’t feel the same with you guys ignoring each other. If the team or Coach Williams noticed you two not talking to each other, they didn’t say anything. By time practice was over, you all went to the locker room to change. After slipping into your fuzzy pajama pants, you sat on the bench and texted Wilbur to come pick you up. He was supposed to pick you up after practice today because he and Techno took the car home after school. Five minutes passed and he still didn’t reply. He probably won’t see the text until you got home from walking.

You sighed, resting your chin in your palm as you leaned forward. One by one, the girls left the locker room until it was only you and Haley left.

“Do you need a ride (y/n)?” She asked gently.

“But what if the person sees us together? I can just walk home, it’s not really a big deal.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “It is a big deal. It’s cold and dark out. You could get kidnapped or something. You don’t even have a coat with you. I’m giving you a ride whether you like it or not.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her and stood up to walk next to her, “okay, mom.”

“Don’t give me that attitude young lady.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my real mom!”

She gasped and lightly smacked the back of your shoulder, “I married your- are you alright? Shit, I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, you’re good. It’s just this damned bruise.”

She moved her hands and frantically turned you around to pull the neck of your shirt down. You two stood in front of the school’s main entrance with the nauseatingly bright fluorescent light bouncing off the reflective surface of the tiles. The orange tinted street lights lit up the sidewalk outside.

“(Y/n)-”

“I know what you’re gonna say.”

She scoffed, “oh really? What am I gonna say then, o wise one?”

You turned around to face her, “‘oh, this is bad, yadda yadda yadda.’ Everyone’s been saying that about it. Honestly it looks worse than it feels. Tis but a scratch, m’lady.”

She snorted and covered her mouth, “never call me ‘m’lady’ ever again.”

You started to walk to her car in the empty parking lot. “Or what? What’re ya gonna do?”

“I swear to god, (y/n), I’m gonna leave you here.”

“Do it, pussy. Bet you won’t.”

“You really wanna bet?”

You grinned at her, “hell yeah.”

She broke off into a mad dash to her car, laughing freely into the night sky. You chased after her trying not to move your arms much, your laugh mixing with hers like a perfect symphony composed of the world’s best musicians. The sound of your rubber soles slapping the pavement resonated throughout the parking lot as you quickly gained on her. Reaching out to grab her shirt, she smirked at you and sharply turned to the right into the grass.

You grinned as her pace slowed down slightly. You’d be able to catch her at this pace. You pushed your legs to move faster as she looked at you from over her shoulder and shrieked in surprise at how close you were to her. You cackled at her reaction, reaching out once again, you grabbed her hand. She was stopped dead in her tracks as your shoulder was yanked with the sudden momentum, making you hiss in slight pain. Despite that, you didn’t let go of her soft hand.

You both stood there under the moonlight and the soft orange street lamps trying to catch your breath. The slightly damp blades of grass tickled your ankle as you shifted to face her better. Through gasping breaths and a dopey grin, you said “you… lost, pussy.”

She let out a breathy laugh as she pulled you to her car. “Shuddup.”

“Make me~”

She opened the passenger side door for you and got into the driver's seat. Her car smelled like vanilla and citrus. “Oh, you will later when I make you do more sets in weight lifting tomorrow, hurt shoulder be damned.”

She turned on the ignition and the car revved to life, soft indie pop wafted from the speakers. She backed out of the parking space and sped off to the main road. “You wouldn’t…”

“I’m your captain, (y/n). I can make you do whatever I want.” You felt your cheeks heat up a tad. You were happy that she couldn’t see you.

“Naw, you’re too much of a softie for that. Admit it, I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger.”

She chuckled as she pulled into your driveway and put the car in park. “...Alright, maybe you do. Just a bit.”

She turned to look at you. She looked stunning with the shadows accentuating the contours of her face perfectly. You found yourself glancing at her lips and leaning slightly towards you. To your surprise, she started leaning into you as well. Before your lips could finally mesh together, she pulled back with a sigh and ran her hand through her hair. You felt a rush of disappointment and fear course through your veins. She didn’t like you like that, you should’ve known better. You were so stupid. So, so stu-

“I can’t (y/n). I want to kiss you so bad, but we can’t. Not yet at least. Not until we find the pervert that took those pictures of us.”

You sighed, “right.”

The car was filled with awkward silence. Not even the soft music streaming from the speakers could alleviate the awkwardness. God, you really screwed up your friendship, didn’t you? Sammy, Adrian, and Annie were right; you messed up everything you touched.

You coughed, “I think I’m gonna��”

“Yeah…”

You grabbed your bag and walked into your house, the smell of chicken slapping you in the face instantly. Without checking in with your dad, you hurried up the stairs, desperate for the warm comfort of your bed. That, and if you wanted to get Sammy’s presentation and Adrian’s, Annie’s, and your research papers done by Friday, you had to start as soon as you could. You were going to skip dinner for tonight, you’d just grab more breakfast tomorrow morning.

You plopped on your bed and got started on your research paper. Luckily, you already had all of the sources you were planning on using and the rough outline of each body paragraph, so writing the actual paper wasn’t going to take long. You worked until you heard a knock at your door.

“(Y/n),” Techno’s monotone voice called out, “dinner’s ready.”

“Tell Dad I’m not hungry. Practice’s got me beat, I’m going to bed soon.”

He grunted, “you know he’s not gonna like that right?”

You felt frustration start to swim circles around your chest, “Techno, just tell him that I’m not hungry right now. Please.”

“Damn, you don’t need to be like that. I’ll tell him.”

You heard his stomping footsteps thumping down the hall. Shit, you pissed him off. You were a terrible person, he was just trying to get you to eat something, Pushing back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, you forced the panic that was starting to swirl around your body in laps deep into your being. You didn’t have time to deal with your failures and stupid emotions, you had to get this done. You didn’t have time to think about Haley’s warm breath ghosting across your lips. You didn’t have time to think about how she probably regretted almost kissing you. You didn’t have time to fall into an anxiety spiral, you needed to focus if you wanted Adrian, Annie, and Sammy to forgive you. You ruined yours and Haley’s friendship and did the same to yours and Techno’s. They were the only ones you had left. You needed to be a better friend.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added or if I missed you, it won’t let me tag some tumblrs :((( ):

@immadatmostthings @thaticecreambish @hee-hee-haw @dearnataliealoveletter @wasteofspacze @dcml04 @bbigbbrainn @dirtydiavolo @vanhakirja @rinzyx05 @misselsbells06 @ialexabsuniverse @im-a-depressed-gay @energy-drinkk @mothra-main @i-need-hugs @dragons-lurk-here @katj733 @m4r-s @vievi @dykeragee @waterstrawberry @aplaintart @kakamiissad @myunfinishedsymphony @nagitokinnieissad @autumnpleaves @justanothergirlwithdemons @zachariethememerie @moon-asia @m0on-blue @strawberrysodababy @akikko-yataro @haikkeiji @shiningsunrises @cinnamonmochi @queen-turtle-boiii @imanewsoul @sparkling-gayyyy @angelicaschuyler-church @vixenfoxpup @ella-ivanov @shio-yuki @mosstea-png @ijustshatbricks

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eirikaanemo · 3 years ago

Note

Venti's crush is a sister in the Church of Favonius. That's the entire prompt. Okay, she may have overheard Venti when he asked for the Holy Lyre and maaaaybe she gave it to him (in the name of freedom!), but she probably wouldn't be a sister after that.

Venti x GN!Reader

1.7k Words

Warnings: Eviction? Kinda?

Notes: So, halfway through I remembered "Sister" is a gendered term, so I switched it to "Disciple". Hopefully that still works!

Part 2: His Fight

His Lyre

He first caught your attention while he was doing a street performance. You were walking down the street, minding your own business, when you heard a melody so beautiful that you swore it had to be Barbatos himself. Following your curiosity, you found him performing a ballad for a group of children. His clear tenor painted looks of wonder on their faces as he regaled them with tales of Vanessa and the revolution of freedom.

You couldn’t help but stop to watch as well. He had captivated you as much as he had the children and you didn’t regret a thing. After Vanessa’s tale he sang of the fall of the storm god, the rise of Barbatos, the shaping of the lands, and the rise of Mondstadt. Every song seemed almost more amazing than the last.

It was getting close to evening by the time you were able to free yourself from his spell. Or rather, he stopped casting it. His last few notes rang out and faded into the darkness. You almost didn’t dare to breathe in fear of breaking the serene silence that overtook the scene. Then his eyes opened.

This was your first real chance to get a good look at them as he was usually facing just slightly away from you. Everyone else had gone home, so as he scanned the area, his eyes fell on you. And suddenly all you could see was his eyes. They’re beautiful, you thought to yourself, a hint of blush warming your cheeks.

His braids swayed a bit as he tilted his head curiously and a smile flashed across his lips. “It’s not often I see a Disciple here, tell me, did you like what there was to hear?”

“I did,” you confirmed. “I’m very impressed! It was almost like I was listening to Barbatos himself!”

He looked stunned for a moment, then an odd look crossed his face before he quickly covered it up with a broad smile. “Thanks! I appreciate the sentiment! That’s really quite the compliment.”

You were able to spend the next little while chatting before you had to go, but similar scenes occurred fairly often as time went on. About the tenth time or so he decided that you were friends, which you had no objection to. Though there was always a small twinge in your heart whenever he called you that for some reason.

Along with becoming friends, you started to notice some things. His songs are… very detailed in a way that makes them line up with records that rarely see the light of day. While you do your best to share Barbatos’ gospel of freedom with everyone, some records are just too fragile to be available to the general public. So the Disciples, like you, memorize them and tell them to the worshipers who come to the Cathedral.

However, either on purpose or by accident, most of the time Disciples will mix up little details or paraphrase things or skip over sections in a way that can confuse the story some. But Venti’s songs match every detail shown in the records, and more. You had checked multiple times and it always came out the same way. He was one hundred percent correct, in every song he played.

Then there was his hair. You’d never seen anyone with their hair being tinted at the ends like that. And you couldn’t find the hair dye he used either. And oh boy had you looked. You wanted teal in your hair too dang it! And when you finally asked him where he got it he laughed and said it was natural. How is that fair?

And then there are the times where he just didn’t act quite human. Like forgetting to eat all day without realizing it. Or referring to other people as “humans”, as if he, himself, isn’t human. Or how he only ever wears one outfit. Or the way anemo energy seems to flow through him instead of around him. You wouldn’t even have noticed that last one if it wasn’t for the fact that you are hypersensitive to it due to how you use your anemo vision. From all of that, and more, you can just tell that something isn’t quite what it seems about him.

So when you’re cleaning the cathedral in the back and hear him out himself as Barbatos to Sister Gotelinde something just clicked. Oh, of course he was Barbatos. What else could he possibly be? Too much added up for it to not make sense! Unfortunately by the time you were done reeling from shock Sister Gotelinde had sent him right out the door.

You had caught enough of the conversation, though, that you knew that Venti- no, Barbatos had need of his lyre. So you came up with a plan. This was going to get you in so, so much trouble. But this is what needed to be done. You need to get him his lyre.

It was surprisingly easy to swipe the lyre from its pedestal and avoid the other inhabitants of the Cathedral by taking back passageways. You had almost made it out, you were so close when you suddenly ran into someone.

Holding a hand to the point of impact starting to swell on your forehead, you squint over towards the other group. When your brain registers that you just ran into Venti you gasp and scramble to your feet, still holding the holy lyre to your chest. “Oh my goodness, I’m so, so sorry Venti,” you apologize. “Or, uh, would you prefer I call you Barbatos?”

Your friend blinks once, then twice, dumbstruck by the situation. “Venti is fine,” he scrambles to assure you after a few moments. “How did you know?”

“You weren’t exactly the quietest when speaking with Sister Gotelinde, Venti. And I was cleaning just out of sight. It made a lot more sense than some other explanations for your weird behavior that I’d come up with.” You admit sheepishly. “And I believe this is yours.”

His face lit up as you held the holy lyre out towards him. “The Lyre de Himmel! Thank you so much! See that, Traveler? We didn’t even have to steal it! I promise to do my best to take care of it.” You quirk an eyebrow as the Traveler finishes shaking off the effects of running into you.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, and you better.” you tell him pointedly, causing him to giggle nervously. “Besides, the two of you need to go! I… didn’t exactly tell anyone about this. Good luck with Dvalin, Venti, Traveler. May Barbatos be with you!” You called out the last part out of habit.

Moments later you felt a hand clap onto your shoulder. “Dear,” Sister Gotelinde drawled slightly. “Please tell me you didn’t hand our sacred treasure over to that alcoholic bard.” You’re silent for a moment before years of being at the Cathedral won over your common sense. “You know I can’t do that, Sister.”

She sighs from her position behind you and her hand tightens on your shoulder. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how much trouble you’re in, especially if it doesn’t come back in one piece.” You gulp.

“Yes, Sister Gotelinde.” You murmur.

“Good, now get back to cleaning.” She instructs you curtly.

Nodding, you turn and walk past her towards where you were cleaning. She continued on, likely going to report the situation to Sister Barbara. You really hope that Venti keeps his promise.

While you try your best to put the situation out of your mind, your thoughts keep drifting back to it the whole next day. The nightmare you’d had that night hadn’t helped either. It had been a morbid scene, a broken lyre on the ground with an equally broken Venti as a triumphant Stormterror screeched over their still forms. You’d woken up sweaty.

Logically you knew that Barbatos- no, Venti wouldn’t fall to Stormterror. But the scene still wouldn’t go away. And neither did the awkward feeling that accompanied your usual duties as a disciple. Some of your regular duties were suddenly almost… laughable? You now knew that Barbatos didn’t care about a good chunk of what you did in the Cathedral that some considered absolutely essential.

Your attitude didn’t help your position though, not with everyone now knowing what you did and watching you closely. The day is long and you feel trapped every second of it. Then Venti returns victorious with a broken lyre and everything crumbles around you. You’re kicked out, banned for life, right after him, with a suitcase of your stuff chucked out after you. Even though he ‘fixed it’.

Part of you wants to just lay there and regret your life choices; but you can’t help but smile when Venti reaches a hand out to lift you up, laughing about the irony of the situation. A small smile manages to reach your face as Jean starts chuckling too.

“Don’t worry too much, I know you’ve done a great good for Mondstadt.” She reassures you. “I know you have a vision, an anemo vision at that.” She gives Venti a pointed look. “How would you like to become a knight?”

Your smile grows into something a little more natural. “I’d like that, thank you Jean.”

“It’s no problem, really the least I could do. I’m sorry it had to end like this. Now, come to my office when you have a moment so we can formalize it. But for now I need to go and formally close the Stormterror case.” With a sigh she walked past you towards the knights headquarters and the inevitable paperwork which awaits her.

“I’m sorry that you got kicked out,” Venti apologizes once Jean’s out of sight. “All you did was help and you got in trouble for it.”

“It’s alright, Venti,” you try to claim. “It was kind of awkward knowing that you are Barbatos anyway.”

“Still,” he pressed. “You put everything on the line for me and I really appreciate it. I’m really sorry I didn’t follow through. I’ll have to make it up to you. And I know just where to start.”

His kiss to your cheek was quick but sent a warmth blooming across your face, contrasting with the coolness of his lips.

“Of course,” you mumble, embarrassed. “It was your lyre anyway.”

“It was,” he agreed. “But you believed me. And that really does mean a lot to me. Thank you, really.”

#eirika writes #venti #genshin venti #venti x reader #genshin impact x reader

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kylie-writes-stuff · 4 years ago

Text

“wife”

pairing: corpse husband x reader (female)

words: 1,714

requested?: no (send some in tho pls :) )

plot/summary: felix invites his friend, y/n, to play among us when they need an extra player. her and corpse get along well

authors note: so this isnt that good and i know a lot of corpse fics use a similar plot. i just wanted to try to write for corpse. hopefully things i write for him in the future are better. let me know what you think tho! also i really wanted reader to be best friends with karl bc i love him sm. uh every swiggly line is like a small time skip. this was written late at night btw and i didnt take much time to go over it

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You sat up from laying down when you heard your phone ring. You looked at the caller ID.

Felix.

"What's up Felix?" You ask with a small yawn.

"Aww, how sweet," You hear in the background.

You giggle and ask, "Is that Sean? Hi Sean!"

"Yeah, we're playing Among Us and need an extra player. You down?" Felix explained.

"Sure, just give me a few minutes. See you soon, whore"

"Bitc-" You hang up before he can finish.

You got up and turned off your TV, going to get ready.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

You quickly tweet out that you're going live and say something on your insta story as well. You start your stream and slowly watch people flood in.

"Hey everyone! How are you guys doing?" You wave and smile, reading the chat.

"Everyone doing good, awesome! And i'm sorry to anyone having a bad day. I hope i can brighten it a bit!"

"Okay, sorry i didn't give you a further notice. I didn't even know i was gonna stream. Felix invited me to play Among Us so... here we are!"

You quickly join the discord and pull up the game, putting a cover over where the code goes.

"Hello?" You ask as you join the call. A chorus of greetings came your way.

"(Y/n)?"

"Karl!" You smile brightly.

Karl Jacobs was a good friend of yours. You would play on the Dream SMP sometimes. When you would, it would mostly be you being stupid with Karl and Alex, also known as Quackity. You were even a well know citizen of El Rapids.

"LET'S GOOOOO!" He yelled, making you laugh.

"Hey (Y/n), do you know everyone here?" Sean asks you.

"Um," You quickly scan through the names, "no, i don't think so."

You recognized names but you only personally knew Felix, Sean, Karl, and Ethan.

"Oh my god! Your voice is so cute!" Pokimane exclaims.

You giggle softly, "Thank you Poki!"

You're voice wasn't high pitched or anything like that, you just always spoke very softly and calmly. You were also a bit quiet.

Felix introduces you to those that you didn't know.

"There's one more person we're waiting for," He says.

While everyone waits, you and Karl run around each other's little characters and make jokes between yourselves. You mute yourself to read donations every once in a while.

You hear the discord chime, signaling that someone joined the call.

"WAIT CORPSE! DON'T SPEAK YET!" Felix yelled. "We have a new player. This is my friend (Y/n), say hi to her"

"Hello (Y/n)," Corpse said. You were taken aback by how deep his voice was but you didn't show it.

"Hi Corpse! Nice to meet you!" You said happily.

"Okay, how is she not freaking out?" Bretman said, making everyone laugh.

"Uh, (Y/n), do you mind letting me have black? It's cool if not.." Corpse asked gently.

"O-oh sure, no problem." You were usually black with the pink flamingo hat, but you ran over to the little computer and changed your color.

"Simp," Ethan mumbled, knowing you never switch from black.

"Thank you," He said, then the game started.

The word “Imposter” appeared on your screen in red, yours and Corpse's characters underneath.

As the game started, you thought no one could hear you so you spoke to your chat. "His voice was so deep, what the fuck? Holy shit that was hot, i'm gonna-"

"(Y/n)," Rae laughed, "You know we're playing proximity chat, right."

You blushed as you realized and said "Ha, anyways..." and ran to start faking tasks.

You ended up in electrical with Karl. "(Y/n)! My good friend, my buddy, you would never kill me right? Haha..." He said.

"Of course not, Karl! My good friend, my buddy. Why, I'm not even imposter," I said as i quickly dipped into the vent and back out, making him laugh.

I decided to show him because I knew Karl wouldn't say anything, and it's funny.

"Oh that's good then. Are you sure you're not imposter?"

"Mhm, pretty sure," You said, going back in. As you came out, Sykkuno walked in and froze.

"Uh, (Y/n)?"

"Fuck... Karl run! Go!" You said, Karl starting to leave. You walked closer and quickly killed Sykkuno then vented to security.

"That was close..." You told your chat.

You saw Corpse as you made your way around the map and walked into navigation.

"Hey, Corpse, how ya doing?"

"Ah you know, good. Just being crewmate and all."

You stifled a laugh, "Oh yeah I feel that, buddy."

"Yeah because there's no way that i'm imposter. No way i could be faking tasks and there's no possible way you could be the other imposter" He said quickly.

"For sure. Hypothetically speaking, though, if you were imposter, how many people would you have killed by now?"

"I would say probably around two."

"Interesting," You said right before a body was reported. It was Sykkuno's. Felix and Rae were also dead.

"WHAT!" Corpse yelled.

"Where was the body at?" Sean laughed.

"Uh I found it in electrical," Bretman said.

"I'm pretty sure Karl was in there earlier."

You calmly said, "It's not Karl, I was with him for most of the round."

"How do we know the two of you aren't imposters?" Sean asked.

"I was alone with him, he would have taken the chance to kill me."

"No, he's your best friend."

"He's also ruthless,"

"TRUE! SO TRUE!" Karl yelled.

"So skip?" Corpse asked.

Everyone agreed and the voting was skipped.

The next round, I spent with Ethan. He was pretending to be mad at me because Sean said Karl was my best friend.

"What happened to Blue Boi Buddies, huh?!" He exclaimed.

"Neither of our hair is even blue anymore!" You argued back.

You were in reactor with him when Corpse and Poki walked in. He hit the lights and you took it as a sign to double kill. He killed Poki, you killed Ethan, and the two of you made your way to electrical to help fix lights.

You and Corpse went the opposite direction of reactor after the lights were fixed, Karl going with you.

Poki's body was reported. That double kill only left you, Corpse, Sean, Karl and Bretman. You only needed two more kills.

"I still think it's Karl and (Y/n)," Sean said quickly.

"I was with (Y/n) the whole time," Corpse said, "In fact, I think it's you."

"That does make sense. Why so quick to accuse others, Sean?" You ask.

"It's not me!" He yelled.

"I actually agree with Corpse and (Y/n)," Bretman said.

"I was with you!"

We all voted for Sean, him voting for Karl. Sean was ejected.

When you load into spawn, you wait for the kill cool down and kill Bretman, saving Karl.

"Victory" appeared on your screen.

"God damn it!" Sean yelled.

"Good job, (Y/n)," Corpse said lowly.

You smiled, a slight blush on your cheeks, "You too Corpse."

"Their voices go together and they're a fuckin dream team? What have i done...," Felix sighed.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

A few more games went by. Most of them you and Corpse spent together, whether you were both crewmates or if one of you was imposter.

You really enjoyed his company and you actually got along with him pretty well.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

"(Y/n), before we get serious, I have one question to ask you." Corpse said as both of your characters stopped.

"What's that?" You giggled.

"Do you know Bingus?"

"Bingus? As in, our lord and savior, Bingus?"

You could hear the smile in his voice, "It's settled, you're my wife now."

This made both of you laugh and your chat go crazy.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

Eventually, people had to start leaving. You said your goodbyes to everyone and left the discord call and the game.

You set stream to where it was just your face cam.

"Guys, what should we do now?"

You saw some people asking what time it was for you.

"It's 3 AM right now... I’m not tired though.” You had been streaming for a few hours; You never even noticed how late it got.

People in chat were yelling at you to go to sleep, making you chuckle.

“How about we do a quick QnA, then at 3:30 I go to bed. Deal?”

You watched as the chat filled with questions. They obviously seemed to like the idea.

“‘Who is your best friend? Karl or Ethan?’ Neither, Alex Quackity. Next question.” You answered quickly.

You laughed, “I’d like to clarify that that’s a joke, i love all my friends equally.”

You answered more questions. Some were from new viewers asking basic questions, some were about future streams and videos.

“‘How do you feel about people shipping you and Corpse?’“ People are already shipping us?” You laughed, “I’ve said before that I’m okay with shipping, as long as the other person is too. I think it’s funny.”

You continued to read chat. “Wait, we’re trending?”

You checked Twitter and “#(your and corpse’s ship name)” was trending in the US.

You laughed as you scrolled through the tag, “Oh this is so funny.”

“Fanart already?! You guys are so talented!”

You read chat, looking for more questions. You saw people telling you that it’s 3:30.

“Okay fine, a deal’s a deal. I hope you all have, or had, a great day and I’ll see you guys later. Depending on what time it is for you, you should also get some sleep. Stay hydrated, love you!” You ended stream.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

You scrolled through Twitter as you laid in bed, liking fanart and dumb memes. Also replying to a few of your friends’ tweets.

karl :) @/KarlJacobs_

@/(your username) what the honk ?

*clip of you saying Quackity was your best friend*

You liked the tweet and replied, “karl no,,, look away,,,”

You continued scrolling, feeling your eyes get droopy. Your eyes fell closed but quickly opened when your phone vibrated. It was a DM.

From Corpse.

You two had followed each other earlier.

Corpse: hey (y/n), just wanted to say you’re really cool and i’d love to play again with you soon

You smiled, a light blush spreading across your cheeks, and replied.

You: i’d love to, corpse

Corpse: ok, see you soon ‘wife’

You: back at ya, ‘husband”

Corpse: :)

You: :)

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse x reader #corpse imagines #corpse fanfic #uh #corpse husband x reader

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mydogisveryadorbs · 4 years ago

Text

falling | jj maybank x reader

summary: jj never meant to fall in love with you, it just happened

warnings: cursing, drug use (weed), little angsty, SOFT JJ, fluff, fluff, fluff

a/n: thank you for this amazing request sweet anon! i hope you enjoy it!

masterlist :)

(gif credit to the owner)

6.5k+ words

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰

Rain is something that every Kildare resident has become accustomed to. The rainy summer months were simply a nuisance to everyone who lived in the OBX.

You couldn't quite understand the contempt the people of this town had for the bad weather. To you, the rain was refreshingly familiar. It reminds you of splashing in the puddles with your older brother and being playfully scolded by your mother for tracking mud into the house. The rain is your childhood.

When you spot the dark clouds on your way out of the house that morning, your mood becomes instantly brighter. You play upbeat music as you walk to visit your dad at work.

Your father is the manager of Kildare’s finest Resort and Spa so you practically grew up there. Making friends has never come easily for you and so some of your finest childhood memories were made running through the grass fields in the courtyard and being the honorary taste tester for the kitchen staff.

The rain gives you an extra skip in your step and you rush through helping your dad with some of his paperwork so you can get back outside quicker.

Not every Kildare native has the same mindset that you do. To JJ Maybank, the rain is a reminder of the days he was forced to stay inside with his father. The cracking thunder reminds him of being hidden under his bedsheets in fear, with no one to comfort him.

The blonde’s fingers quickly fumble to punch in the well-known number of his best friend. The phone rings, and rings, and rings, until the crackly sound of John B’s voicemail box fills his ears. He tries Kiara and even Pope, before ultimately giving up.

The one day his bike is in the shop, it rains and none of his friends answer their phones.

Despite every instinct he has, JJ knows he has no choice but to walk home in the rain. His clothes are already sopping wet against his skin even after a brief minute of standing under the downpour.

He shivers, arms wrapping around his body as he prepares himself to make the journey home.

Before JJ can even take one step forward, a bright yellow blob moves towards him, catching his attention. The blob slowly morphs into a figure as it approaches.

“Hello,” a sweet feminine voice calls out to him. JJ’s brows instantly furrow at the sight of the teen girl in the bright yellow raincoat, holding an equally bright, yellow umbrella.

“Um, hi?” he replies over the sound of the rain, his voice coming out in more of a questioning tone.

You quickly move your hand so that your small umbrella is covering both of your heads.

“Thanks,” JJ mutters, still confused. You offer him a sweet smile. He takes the moment to scan your face. You're easily one of the most gorgeous girls he's ever seen and he wonders how he's gone this long without noticing you.

“You looked like you needed it more than me,” you explain with a shrug, eyes falling away from JJ’s piercing blue ones. “Where are you headed? I didn't drive here but I'm sure my dad wouldn't mind if I borrowed his car to take you home.”

His eyes widened in realization. “Oh, um, your Mr. (Y/L/N)’s daughter right?” You reply with a simple nod. “It's fine, I'll just walk.”

Your lips pull down into a sudden frown and JJ has an intense urge to make you smile again. “It would be much faster for me to drive you,” you urge, “Plus, if you walk home without an umbrella, you'll definitely catch a cold.”

JJ can't help but smile softly at your kindness which you eagerly return with one of your own. “How ‘bout you just let me borrow your umbrella then?” he asks jokingly.

“Well that would work, but this is my favorite umbrella.” This is a lie. You have two other umbrellas just like it at home.

“Well I guess you'll just have to give me a ride home then,” JJ gives in.

Your smile grows as you link your arm with the blondes and pull him to your dad's fancy sports car. JJ gives you directions back to the Chateau and you oblige.

The two of you make conversation for almost the entire drive, only breaking when you stop to turn up a song you like. JJ is pleasantly surprised when you never mention the length of the drive or the rundown houses you pass.

A few minutes later, You pull up to the chateau, putting the car in park. The car goes quiet besides the sound of rain hitting the rooftop.

JJ looks over at you with a soft smile. “Thank you, really, for the ride,” he tells you genuinely as he gathers his things.

“Any time, Maybank.”

Over the next two weeks, you start to spend a little more time at the hotel, bumping into JJ anytime the opportunity arises. The blonde is used to eating his lunch on his own in the back room, but when you ask if he'll join you for lunch on the golf course, he can't possibly say no.

“So then my friend John B had to practically drag me out of the water,” JJ says, continuing his story about getting stung by a jellyfish. “I couldn't walk for three straight days.” His words are muffled by the bite of the sandwich he has in his mouth causing you to giggle. JJ smiles at the sound, wanting nothing more than to make you laugh like that again.

“You know I've always wanted to learn how to surf,” you tell him, causing his eyes to widen. “But after your stories, I might not,” you add with a laugh.

“You've never been surfing,” the blonde asks in disbelief to which you respond with a head shake. “How long have you lived here?”

You smile. “All my life.”

“You've lived here all your life and you've never been surfing?”

“I've been paddleboarding,” you offer with a sheepish smile.

JJ chuckles slightly at your lame joke, but mostly at how adorable you are. “Come surfing with me tomorrow,” he says, softly grabbing your hand in his causing you to blush hard.

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I have the day off and my friends and I were planning to go anyway.”

Your eyes widen and you gulp slightly. “Your friends are going to be there,” you ask warily.

JJ nods in confusion. “Yeah my friends will be there, unless,” a look of realization sweeps over his face, “Oh. You don't want to go with my friends.” His hand drops yours onto the blanket you brought.

“No,” you tell him earnestly, grabbing his hand back. “It's not that I don't want to go with them, it's that I don't think they will want me there.” JJ looks at you in confusion. “You and your friends are the most looked up to friend group on this island. It's an unspoken thing that everyone wants to be you guys. I just don't think they'll want me butting into your group.”

JJ frowns. Is that really what you think of yourself? The blonde has only known you for a few weeks, but at that time he's decided that you are the kindest, most selfless person on this island. Why you are unable to see that, is beyond him.

It's the first moment in JJ’s life that he has the sudden urge to kiss you. But he can't, he knows that. He knows it won't be the last time he gets this feeling (not with your perfect pouty lips and kind heart around him all the time), but he pushes the thought to the back of his mind for now.

“(Y/N),” he says, drawing your attention back up to his eyes. “Trust me, they'll love you.” What's not to love? But he doesn't say that last part out loud.

JJ doesn't know it, but this moment is also the first time you have the urge to kiss him. The urge to wrap your hands around his neck and pull his lips to meet yours. Your heart rate increases rapidly and you push the thought aside as well.

With promises of meeting the next day, you bid JJ goodbye, the butterflies in your stomach not diminishing until the blonde is out of your sight.

The next afternoon you spend thirty minutes trying on all of your bikinis. You want more than anything to have a good impression on JJ’s friends.

You are slipping a pale green tank top over your bikini as the doorbell echos through your house. “I'll get it,” you tell out, hoping no one gets to the door first.

Grabbing the rest of your things and shoving them into your tote bag, you quickly run downstairs. When you make it to the door you spot your older brother Sam reaching to open it.

“Sam wait,” you yell, rushing to open the door first. You pull the handle revealing JJ. He's dressed in a pair of grey cargo shorts, a worn black tank top, and his infamous red snapback. “Hey,” you say with a smile.

“Hey.”

“(Y/N), where are you going,” Sam asks from behind you. You turn around to see your brother giving you a look that resembles that of a worried parent.

“I'm going surfing with JJ and his friends,” you tell him quickly. JJ waves at your brother, slightly intimidated by the tall boy.

Sam looks over your shoulder at JJ before snapping his eyes back to you. “Did you tell mom and dad about this?”

You roll your eyes lightly. “I'm not ten, Sam,” you say sarcastically. “I don't have to get permission every time I leave the house.”

Sam’s eyes move back to JJ, only to see that the blue-eyed boy is already looking at you. “Keep her safe, will you?” he asks with a sigh.

JJ looks at your brother. “Of course,” he promises.

You smile, kissing your brother on the cheek. “Love you, Sam.”

He responds with the same and the two of you are quickly moving off your front porch and towards the street.

JJ watches your expression as you approach the pogue van, expecting some sort of disgust of their old vehicle.

He opens the passenger door for you, making you blush hard, before moving to the driver's seat. “Sorry it's not the nicest car,” he says as the van sputters to life, slightly cringing at the sound of the old engine.

“What are you talking about,” you say with an honest smile, “This is literally the coolest car ever.” You stick your hand out the window letting the wind hit it as giggles escape from your mouth.

JJ’s lips stretch into a wide smile at the sight.

The two of you laugh and sing along to whatever song comes on the radio. It's just like the night you drove him home from the hotel except now, the sun is shining bright above you.

When JJ pulls the van up to the front of the run down Chateau, you feel your palms begin to sweat. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” you ask the boy next to you, not taking your eyes off the front porch.

JJ smiles. “They're gonna love you,” he says confidently, “Now come on before I die of heatstroke.” He hops out of the car, running around to your side and helping you out.

You chew your lips nervously as the two of you walk up the steps and across the front porch.

“We're here,” JJ announces as he opens the door for you.

The first thing you notice when you enter the little house is the pungent smell of weed. Despite not smoking yourself, you don't mind the scent. The second thing you notice is the three teenagers sitting on a worn couch.

A girl with curly brown hair throws her hands up into the air. “JJ’s brought a girl home,” she exclaims with a chuckle.

The blonde beside you rolls his eyes. “Shut up Kie.”

The girl who you assume is Kiara, stands up, and runs over to you. Much to your surprise, she pulls you into a tight hug. You stand there in confusion for a second before hugging her back. “I'm Kiara, but you can call me Kie,” she says, pulling away. “Those two dumbasses are John B and Pope,” Kie tells you, pointing to the two boys still sitting on the couch. They lift their chins in a greeting.

“So are you guys ready,” JJ asks, breaking the tension.

The boys stand up and the five of you walk outside before piling into the van. John B and Kiara sit in the front and JJ, Pope, and you in the back.

“JB, where's Sarah,” Pope asks.

“Couldn't make it,” John B replies, “Said she had family stuff.”

“John B, you're dating Sarah Cameron, right?” you ask sweetly.

John B nods. “Yeah, you know her?”

“Not really, we had English together last year,” you say, watching as the brunette boy’s expression remains stoic. “I don't know if she'll like me though. I kind of punched her brother in third grade for making fun of my friend's dress.”

The whole group laughs loudly and you blush hard, not meaning for that to slip out. JJ uses the moment to wrap his arms discreetly across your shoulders.

“I think she'll definitely like you then,” John B says. “That's badass.”

A few minutes later, the van pulls up to a secluded spot on the beach.

“Wow, it's beautiful here,” you say in awe.

JJ nods as he and Kie take the surfboards down from the roof of the van. “This is our secret pogue spot.”

“Oh,” you say looking down, feeling out of place.

Pope hands you one of the boards. “You're basically an honorary pogue if we bring you here,” he says with a kind smile. “Think of this as your initiation.”

You smile back, relieved that JJ’s friends aren't annoyed by your presence. JJ tries to hide a smile of his own, loving that you are getting along with his friends considering they're the only family he has.

The five of you walk down to the beach, finding a good spot to lay down your stuff.

JJ can't take his eyes off of you as you slip your tank top over your head. His little heart can't handle how gorgeous you are. You're wearing a small blue and white floral bikini, leaving little to the imagination.

“You okay, Maybank?” you ask, snapping him out of his trance. He nods dumbly, making you chuckle. “C’mon,” you say, grabbing your board in one hand and holding the other out to the blonde.

This sets him into motion and he quickly grabs his own board and links his fingers with yours. He has to remind himself to take in this moment, wanting to remember the first time you ever held his hand.

“So how do I do this,” you ask once you have paddled out into the water.

JJ nods. “Normally I would have you do some exercises on land first, but I say you just go for it,” he says, floating on the board next to you.

“Great plan, Maybank,” you say with a slight eye roll. “If I die it's on you.”

JJ laughs. “You're not gonna die, (Y/N),” he tells you. “The waves are small today anyways.”

He explains the basics of how and where to stand before demonstrating on a wave. You admire how his tan body moves gracefully on the board. He makes it look so easy and you smile at the look of concentration he has.

JJ ladles back out to where you are when he is done. “Maybank,” you exclaim. “That was amazing.”

JJ smiles wide. “Now it's your turn.”

You grimace. “It's not gonna look like that.”

“Don't worry, that took years of practice,” he encourages before pointing behind you. “Look, there's a perfect wave coming.”

You look at the wave, gulping in anticipation. “Wish me luck.”

“You got this,” he yells making you laugh. Your heart pounds in your chest as you line yourself up the way JJ had. When the wave comes toward you, you attempt to put your foot where JJ told you. Instead, you miss and fall into the water before you even have the chance to stand.

JJ’s heart drops the moment your head disappears under the water. The waves weren't too big and the current shouldn't be strong at this time of day, but he couldn't help the sick feeling he got watching you fall.

The moment your head pops up out of the water he breathes a sigh of relief. The sound of your laughter is enough to calm his anxieties.

You slide back on your board, paddling back over to JJ. “Well that was embarrassing,” you say with a giggle.

JJ smiles with a small shake of his head. “No one gets it on their first try,” he reassures her. “If you stood up just now I would have sent you straight to a surfing competition.”

A few more tries (and fails) later you notice the sun starting to set over the horizon.

“You ready to go back in,” JJ asks from his board next to you.

You shake your head. “I want to give it one more go,” you tell him. “But you go in and watch from the beach.”

The blonde frowns. “Are you sure?”

“I'll be fine, Maybank,” you say with a small smile. “Plus, then you can watch me better when I shred some waves,” you add in a mock surfer voice.

JJ gives you a slight eye roll before making his way to shore. He meets up with the rest of the pogues who are coming back from up the beach where they had found some bigger waves.

“Getting bored of teaching the newbie,” John B asks when he sees JJ.

JJ gently shoves the boy. “No,” the blonde replies plainly. “She just wanted to give it one last try before we head in.”

The four of them watch from the sand as you make your way towards an upcoming wave.

“I bet you five bucks she doesn't even stand,” John B whispers to Pope.

“Hey,” JJ snaps, turning to look at his two friends. “What are you two idiots doing.”

“Definitely not betting on your girlfriend,” Pope says, sarcasm laced in his voice.

JJ blushes at the word 'girlfriend’. “She's not my girlfriend.”

Even Kie rolls her eyes at this. “Yeah, okay.”

They go silent as you get closer to the wave, watching as you paddle along it. In one graceful motion, you position your feet, straightening your legs until you are standing.

The four pogues cheer as you ride the wave. It's definitely not perfect, but JJ couldn't be more proud.

You ride the wave in, throwing your board on the sand as you run-up to the group. “I did it guys,” you exclaim happily.

Running up to JJ, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, practically jumping into his arms. He catches you easily, spinning you around in excitement.

The blonde puts you down after a minute, reluctant to let go of you. You look up into his eyes, feeling the tension grow.

“You did awesome, girly,” Kie says, drawing your attention away from JJ.

He smiles as he watches you interact with his friends. At that exact moment, his heart feels so full, but he can't explain it.

After everyone is done congratulating you, the six of you gather your things before piling into the van. You tell jokes and chat on the way back to your house.

You give JJ a soft kiss on the cheek before bidding everyone else goodbye. Despite rolling his eyes when his three best friends make fun of him for it, having your lips on his cheek is the last thing he thinks about before drifting off to sleep that night.

Yes, he's definitely falling for you.

Over the next few weeks, you grew closer and closer with the pogues. A few days after your surfing adventure you met Sarah Cameron for the first time, and after that, you were basically a pogue yourself.

When you invited JJ over for dinner at your house, the blonde assumed your parents would hate him like every other kook family. However, your parents and brother treated him with nothing but kindness and respect (how could they not after all the stories you have told them).

Looking back, that was the night you knew you were in love with JJ. Watching him laugh and have meaningful conversations with your family made you fall even harder for him.

Tonight, almost five months after you first met JJ on that rainy night, you are lounging on the floor of John B’s living room cracking jokes with your friends.

You told your parents you were spending the night at Kiara’s, knowing that they would ask fewer questions.

“Kie, pass me the blunt, would you,” John B asks from his spot next to Sarah.

You are sitting next to JJ, your legs stretched across his and your back pressed against the couch. Your eyes watch as John B places the blunt to his lips, inhaling the vapor.

The brunette lifts an eyebrow. “You wanna hit, (Y/N),” John B asks, holding the blunt out with two fingers.

Before you can even open your mouth, the blonde beside you speaks up. “She doesn't smoke JB,” he says annoyed at his best friend for even asking.

You look at him confidently. “Actually, I think I'd like to try,” you say, causing everyone to look at you in shock.

“You sure?” JJ asks softly from next to you. You nod and John B passes you the blunt.

Placing it in between your lips, you inhale like you had seen John B do earlier. Only, when you do it, it sends you into a coughing fit.

JJ rubs your back with a slight eye roll. “Atta girl,” he says with a small chuckle.

It doesn't take long for you to be high out of your mind. You're a lightweight when it comes to alcohol and you probably should have guessed you would be a lightweight when it came to weed too.

At some point in the night, you find yourself sprawled out on one of the hammocks outside in a large, ratty t-shirt you assume belongs to JJ. The stars spin above you and you giggle.

“(Y/N)?” you hear the voice of the boy you're madly in love with, approach.

“Maybank,” you cheer when he finds you on the hammock. He gestured for you to move over and once you do so he plops down next to you.

You're instantly pulled into JJ’s toned chest and you let your head rest easily on his shoulder.

“Is everyone else asleep?” you attempt to whisper, but it comes out louder than you had anticipated.

JJ’s hands find your hair and begin to play with it lightly. “Mhm.”

“So it's just me and you?” you ask sweetly, words slightly slurred from the weed in your system.

He hopes you can't hear how fast his heart is beating from having you this close. “Just you and me.”

“JJ can I ask you a question,” you mumble, the weed making you only slightly more confident.

“F’course,” JJ tells you.

You use your fingers to trace lazy patterns on his bare chest. “How come you never call me any nicknames,” you ask with a pout. “Like I call you ‘Maybank’, y’know and you have a nickname for every one of our friends except me.”

JJ doesn't answer right away and even your wasted mind thinks that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to ask.

“Because I like your name,” he finally says after a while.

A small “oh” is all you can muster, so the blonde boy continues. “I like saying your name. It's really pretty and I like the way it sounds,” he tries to explain, slightly cringing at his words.

“I like you,” you blurt, but it comes out in a slow drawl.

“What,” JJ asks quickly, eyes widening in shock. When you don't reply, he looks down at you only to find you fast asleep on his chest.

His brain is going a mile a minute trying to comprehend what you said. You must've meant it in a friendly way because there's no way someone like you would like a guy like him. Right?

The blonde lays there for hours, unable to sleep with your words on his mind (and your head over his heart). Finally, he coaxes himself to sleep with the thought that you were high out of your mind and didn't mean anything you said.

The next morning you wake up alone in the bed of John B’s guest room. You have no idea how you got there and have little recollection of the previous night.

You stumble out of the small room with a headache and feeling slightly nauseous.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Sarah says with a smile when you appear in the kitchen.

You look around the room, noticing that you were the last one awake. “What happened last night,” you groan, plopping down in the seat between Kiara and JJ

“Well,” Pope says with a smirk. “You had your first official experience with weed.”

You groan again, laying your head in your arms which are folded on the table. You feel a familiar hand rest on your back and you turn your head to look at JJ. He smiles at you and a sea of butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“Well, I should probably get home,” you say, sitting up. JJ pouts at your words and you giggle, leaning over to give him a small kiss on the cheek which unbeknownst to you, makes his stomach fill with butterflies too.

You bid goodbye to the rest of your friends, before stumbling out of the chateau and to your car.

JJ’s eyes follow your body until it is completely out of sight. When he finally sees your car pulling out of the driveway, he looks back to his friends only to find all of them staring at him. “What?”

“Just tell her you love her already,” Kiara says with a dramatic groan causing JJ’s eyes to widen.

John B nods. “Seriously, dude,” he says, “You gotta do it before she gets tired of waiting.”

“What are you guys talking about,” JJ asks innocently despite knowing exactly what his friends are talking about.

“The two of you are madly in love with each other so what are you doing wasting this time you could be spending together,” Sarah reasons.

JJ knows his friends are right, but he doesn't need them breathing down his neck when he does decide to tell you.

You, on the other hand, realized a few seconds into your drive that you forgot your phone. You had turned around and were now making your way back up the porch steps.

“I do not like (Y/N),” lies through his teeth, having no idea that you could hear him clearly through the mesh screen door. “She's just a spoiled, kook, brat that I happened to take pity on. She means nothing to me.”

Each word that passes from JJ’s lips is like a knife to your heart. Completely forgetting your phone, you don't waste any time running back to your car. Hot tears stream down your face at a steady rate as you attempt to get as far away as possible from the boy who broke your heart.

“Okay keep telling yourself that,” John B says to JJ with a small smirk on his lips.

JJ rolls his eyes, but on the inside, he is longing for your sweet lips to press to his cheek again. The dense blonde has no idea that the girl he loves with his whole heart, is currently broken because of him.

Over the next few days, you make every excuse in the book not to see the pogues, knowing that even being in the same room as JJ would be too much.

When Kiara brings by your phone from the Chateau, you immediately break down and tell her what you witnessed. The curly-haired girl wants to tell you the whole truth, but she figures it should come from the idiotic blonde himself.

After three days of not hearing from you, JJ’s worry starts to eat him alive. What if you were sick? Or sad? Or what if you finally realized you were too good for him?

Despite the drizzling rain, JJ takes his bike and makes his way to your house as quickly as he can.

When he knocks on your large oak door and your brother opens it, JJ is immediately brought back to the first day he came to your house. He remembers the pride he felt when you first stood up on that board.

“Hey, Sam. Is (Y/N) here?” he asks, peaking around your brother's shoulder as if you would be standing there like you were that one day.

“No,” Sam says harshly, immediately slamming the door shut in JJ’s face.

The blonde is left there in confusion wondering what is wrong. He knocks on the door again, louder this time.

Sam opens the door again. “What?” he snaps.

“I know she's here,” JJ explains seriously. “I can see her bedroom light from her window and she never leaves her light on.”

Your brother scowls at JJ’s words as if it's an abomination that he knows such an intimate fact about you.

“Leave, JJ,” Sam says, slightly calmer now. “She doesn't want to see you.” He shuts the door again, causing JJ’s heart to break slightly.

What does he mean you don't want to see him?

The blonde steps away from your front door and moves under your bedroom window. The rain is falling much harder now, causing JJ’s curls to plaster to his forehead.

He glances up at your window, suddenly having an idea. It takes him a few tries, but JJ is able to scale your house and make it to your small balcony.

He peers into your room, spotting you laying on your bed, with your back facing him. JJ knocks lightly on your window and you snap your head in his direction.

Your eyes widen when you see his sopping wet form and for a second you forget why you're laying alone in the first place. You rush to the window, undoing the hinges and pulling JJ inside.

Once the blonde is standing in front of you, his words from the other night come rushing back.

“What are you doing here, JJ,” you ask with a small sigh, wrapping your hoodie-clad arms around your stomach.

The blonde frowns. “You called me JJ.”

“That's your name isn't it?”

“Yeah, but yo-you never,” JJ stumbles over his words. “Are you okay? Why haven't you been answering my texts or calls?”

“I was busy,” you say with a shrug, sitting back onto your bed.

“You know you can talk to me, right,” JJ asks as he takes a small step closer to you. “I'll always be here for you.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, okay,” you mumble sarcastically.

JJ flinches back. “What's going on (Y/N)? You're not being yourself. You are always there for me and my problems, so you should know that I'll always be here for you and whatever it is you're going through,” he tells you honestly.

“Oh yeah because you took pity on me, right?” you snap, looking him dead in the eyes as a few tears fall down your cheeks. A look of confusion spreads across his features. “Because I'm a ‘spoiled, kook, brat’ right?”

JJ's heart drops to the pit of his stomach as he realizes what you are talking about. His eyes well with tears knowing why you've been hurting the past few days.

“(Y/N),” he all but whimpers. His hands reach out for you but you pull back.“Please, let me explain.”

You harshly wipe the tears from your cheeks. “I think you made yourself very clear the other day. Leave, JJ,” you tell him.

JJ shakes his head as panic builds in his chest. He struggles to breathe as he realizes that he is about to lose you before he even truly has you.

His breathing becomes more and more erratic and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“JJ,” you ask softly, noticing the arising panic attack. The blonde looks up at you, fear evident in his eyes. Despite the pain, he put you through, you still love him and can't stand to see him in pain. “C'mere JJ,” you say softly, pulling him to sit on your bed. You crouch down below him, shushing him softly.

“You gotta breathe with me,” you tell him, making sure he's watching as you take a few big breaths in. He is able to take a few shaky breaths and soon his heart rate has slowed to a somewhat normal rate, JJ collapses into your arms. “You're okay. It's gonna be okay.”

JJ frowns, pulling away from you slightly. “Why are you being so nice to me,” he asks shakily. “After everything I've done?”

You shrug, looking down.

He uses two of his fingers to gently lift your chin so you are looking at him. “Please let me explain,” he whispers and you nod slightly. “After you left that day, the pogues were messing with me, saying that I was so in love with you n ’shit, so I had to say something that would get them to shut up,” he says quickly, wanting to get through his story so you will stop hurting.

“Nothing I said that day was remotely close to the truth. You are the most kind-hearted person on this island, and for me to even say that you aren't, it's just, I'm so sorry,” he says. “I never meant to hurt you, but I couldn't have the pogues thinking I was in love with you.”

Your heart falls at his words. “Because that would be embarrassing, right?” you say, trying to hide the dejection you are feeling.

“No.” You look up at him in confusion. “Because I didn't want you to find out before I got the courage to tell you myself.”

“What?”

“I'm in love with you (Y/N),” he says with a small smile on his face. “I have completely fallen for you. Everything you do, everything you say, everything you are. You’re my first thought in the morning, you’re my last thought before I fall asleep, and you're almost every thought in between.”

The room goes silent and the only sound that can be heard is the rain softly hitting your window.

“Now is where you say something,” he says with an awkward chuckle.

You open your mouth to speak, but everything you want to say to the boy in front of you is stuck in your throat. “I-” you manage to sutter out.

JJ sighs. “It’s okay,” he says standing up, leaving you to fall limply against your bed. “I figured this would happen. You don’t have to say anything.”

When he moves towards your window, your body seems to catch up with your brain and you run to stop him. JJ turns around, but before he can get a word out, you press your lips to his.

You swear you see sparks fly behind your eyes the moment your lips meet his. The kiss starts softly at first and then builds with an intensity that has you gripping his shoulders for balance. This kicks the blonde into motion. He places one hand softly on your cheek and uses the other to tug your waist closer to him.

The intoxicating taste of weed and mint lulls you closer as your lips move together perfectly. Neither of you ever want to stop. Moving your right hand to lace your fingers in his hair, you tug slightly, causing him to let out a small groan. You smile into the kiss before reluctantly pulling yourself away.

“That was…” JJ trails off breathlessly.

“Yeah,” you agree with a chuckle. “Look, when I first met you, I never would have imagined that I would have such strong feelings for you. I never would have thought that I would miss being by your side, or get butterflies in my stomach when someone mentions your name. When I first met you, I never would’ve thought that I would love you the way I do.”

Tears brim JJ’s eyes as your words fill his heart. “So, you…”

“I love you, Maybank,” you say, not looking away from his eyes.

“Say it again,” he asks in a small voice, eyes wide like he can’t believe the words you are actually saying.

You smile wide. “I love you, so much.”

JJ pulls your body tight to his chest and buries his head into the crook of your neck. “I love you more than anything,” he mumbles into your neck. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say.”

You chuckle, lifting his head off your shoulder and cupping his cheeks with your hands. You place a few soft kisses to his pouty lips causing him to smile wide. “I forgive you, but only because you're cute,” you tell him.

He blushes slightly, leaning down to kiss both of your cheeks and then your lips. Both of you have big smiles on your face when you pull away. “How have I gone this long without kissing you,” JJ says causing you to giggle. He uses the pads of his thumbs to trace your cheekbones. “You’re so beautiful,” the blonde whispers, voice laced with sincerity.

You blush hard and nuzzle your face into his chest. After a second you look back up at him. “Stay the night?” you ask.

JJ nods. “Of course, my love.”

Smiling at the name you pull him towards your closet. “I thought you didn't give me nicknames,” you tease and he shrugs his shoulders.

“That was before,” he says with a smile.

You hum in response, handing him some of his clothes that either he had left at your house or you had stolen from the Chateau. Once he is changed out of his wet clothes, the two of you climb into your bed.

JJ instantly pulls you snug to his chest and you get comfortable and he presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

Both of you know that everything will change after today. Everything is different now, but for some reason, it feels normal to the two of you. It feels like this was how it was meant to be. Just you and JJ, together.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Maybank.”

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰

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tricksters-captain · 4 years ago

Text

Benny Watts/The Queens Gambit imagines - From Pawn to Pen Part 1

AN: So I watched the Queens Gambit in one day and I am officially obsessed with it. And how dare it bring back my crush on Thomas Brodie Sangster... Due to this... Have a fanfic...

Overall Summary: You’re a young journalist for Chess Review, with a love for chess and a desire for knowledge. One day at a tournament, you come across the famous Benny Watts...

Pairing(s): Benny Watts x reader

Word Count: 2,504

Warnings: (I know nothing about chess except what the show taught me so bare that in mind), none really

Another state, another tournament.

Your work had you travel round to even the smallest of Chess Tournaments to try and get the dirt on up and coming chess players or already existing champions.

You inhaled the familiar smell of a hotel lobby, taking in your surroundings as people bustled about the place.

It was one of the bigger tournaments fortunately and so you were hoping to run into some champions which tend to give you better pages which equals better pay.

You walked up to the front desk, your eyes scanning the small tables as far as the eye could see where chess boards were being studied in case you recognised any chess players.

You did but they were all the standard normies that showed their faces at these events. No one noteworthy yet.

“Can I help you?” The slim man behind the desk with slicked back red hair flashed you a toothy smile as he greeted you.

“(Y/n)(Y/l/n).” You introduced yourself and the man soon flicked through his booking sheets to find your reservation.

“Room 209. If you just head down this hall to the elevators, it’s on the second floor.” The man pointed towards the elevators where you managed to spot the flash of bright auburn hair entering one of them.

Beth Harmon.

You smiled with relief as you started to sew the piece in your head already.

“Thank you.” You took the key and made your way down to elevators.

As the elevator door dinged open, some commotion by the entrance of the lobby caught your attention.

The peak of leather through the crowd told you who it was.

Benny Watts.

Even better. You now had two top chess players you could focus on.

You decided to let the celebrity champion settle into his hotel before you mobbed him as a journalist and you also needed to freshen up after travelling.

You travelled so much that you barely bothered with your apartment. It was mostly rented out to other people besides holidays like Christmas where you actually could return home.

Everything you had was basically in two large suitcases which you dragged across the United States and Europe following chess players around.

You mainly liked travelling around Europe. You previously worked for a Parisian chess magazine but this year you took an offer to work for Chess Review which brought you back to the states.

You had mostly done smaller tournaments all year round so hadn’t had the pleasure in meeting Benny Watts or Beth Harmon yet.

Benny Watts had been one of the biggest names in chess for years now and Beth Harmon was a rapid rising star.

You knew this would be your big break in Chess Review to stop being handed the small tournaments and to document the important ones like the US Open.

You opened the door to your hotel room and smiled when you saw how nice it actually was.

You had stayed in some crap holes recently.

You dumped your suitcases to one side and immediately turned on the shower so you could relax your cramped muscles and feel a bit cleaner.

You undressed and let the hot water cascade down your back, covering your hair and face as you tipped your head backwards.

You took your time in there before getting out and blow drying your hair.

By the time you had washed, done your hair and make up again; it was time to pick a dress for the evening so you could go get something to eat.

You went for your favourite navy blue skirt and cream sweater, both hugged you nicely but were still modest, before slipping on some shoes.

You took a small purse to put your room key in and then left for the restaurant/bar that was in the hotel.

The restaurant was filled with chess players and spectators all buzzing with excitement about this weekend.

You managed to find a small table away from the majority of the hustle and tucked yourself away with your notepad.

You liked being a fly on the wall most of the time. You enjoyed observing, studying and learning about people. ‘People watching’ as some would call it.

The waiter brought over the cocktail you had ordered along with some grapes, cheese and crackers to munch on.

After writing some of the thoughts down that came to you in the shower, you looked up to see who was around you.

There was no sign of Beth Harmon which wasn’t unusual as she was known for practising in her room before tournaments.

You scanned the groups before your eyes stopped on him. Benny Watts.

His slick blonde hair fell slightly by his eye, his hat on his lap as he talked to the surrounding fans and admirers.

The man loved talking about himself and loved talking about Chess even more.

You watched him for a moment, the way his eyes were alight as he laughed amongst his peers.

Benny must've felt someone was watching him because a second later, his eyes met yours for a brief moment.

You looked down and pretended to write something down as Benny turned his chin this time to look at you again.

You were used to being invisible and in that moment you felt extremely seen.

However, the man didn’t move from his chair or even look another time after that.

You popped a grape in your mouth before taking a large sip of your drink. You’d have to talk to him tomorrow and you knew that but for the first time, you actually felt the bubbles of nerves rise in stomach.

“May I buy you a drink?” A voice brought you from your thoughts and you looked up to see Henry Cavilla, one of the regular American chess players whom you believed you’d seen only two months before in Denver.

“I’m fine, thank you.” You declined politely but the man sat down anyway, joining you at your table.

“I insist.” Henry’s smile spread widely on his lips as he waved a waiter over. “I saw you in Denver. You’re a journalist, am I right?”

“Yes. For Chess Review.” You had to hide your irritation at his boldness.

“How long you been doing that?” The man asked,

“Well I’ve been a journalist for three years, but I’ve only been at Chess Review for 6 months.” You admitted honestly as the man ordered two drinks for the table.

“What’s a beautiful girl like you doing reporting on chess? Thought you’d be more into what Beth Harmon was wearing than her Sicilian defence.”

“I could ask you a similar thing? What’s a mediocre, chino wearing, middle aged misogynist doing at a chess tournament where Beth Harmon and Benny Watts are playing?” You couldn’t help but let the words slip out of your mouth, slapping the man right round the face.

You watched the man’s smile drop following a small burst of laughter echoing through the restaurant.

Your head snapped round to see it was Benny Watts laughing, staring directly at your table. He must’ve heard what you said despite the rest of the restaurant noise.

“Listen here, sweetheart, you’re just a skirt hired to keep your boss man happy and to fuck the chess players into a one page interview so you can get your paycheck to fund your morning after pill from planned parenthood and buy yourself some clean panties you’d sooner have off anyways.” You hit a nerve with what you said and he seemed to hit one right back.

You threw the two new drinks in the mans face, causing most of the restaurant to stop and stare at the commotion as he jumped to his feet to retaliate.

You snatched your notebook and fled the scene before anything worse could happen or you get thrown out of the tournament all together.

You fell back onto your bed, kicking your shoes off as you did.

It wasn’t unusual for men to be putting you down, especially in the chess world and the journalist world but tonight you just weren't having any of it.

You groaned as you pushed your hair out of your face, replaying the event in your head. The way everyone stared after you threw the drinks in his face.

You did not need to be the centre of attention this weekend.

You put yourself to bed with the television playing so you could stop scolding yourself in your head and distract yourself to finally get some sleep.

The next morning you woke up early, getting ready quickly and making sure you had everything you needed for a full day of reporting.

You skipped breakfast, only taking a black coffee before you entered the battle field.

The chess boards were still being set up and from across the room you spotted the familiar hair colour that belonged to Beth Harmon.

“Beth? Beth Harmon?” You crossed the room to greet her. “I’m (Y/n)(Y/l/n) from Chess Review. I was wondering if I could get an opening statement before the tournament goes ahead this weekend?” You asked politely, trying your best not to attack her verbally this early in the morning,

“Uh, of course. I’m feeling very confident this weekend that I’ll quickly rise to the top, concluding the tournament opposite Benny Watts.” Beth admitted,

“Are you scared of Benny Watts?” You asked,

“Scared? No. I am merely curious to see how our game goes.” Beth admits.

“Well, good luck, Beth. I hope to catch up with you sometime this weekend for a brief interview of how you play your games if you don’t mind?” You asked politely, silently begging she’d say yes.

“I’ll speak with you tomorrow night. It’ll be the middle of the tournament so there’ll be plenty to talk about.” Beth was extremely nice in offering her time and you took it gratefully.

You left the girl to her own company and returned to the lobby where you could see a crowd already gathering.

“Mr Watts.” You spotted the leather jacket and hat as the man entered the breakfast room.

The man turned when he heard his name being called across the lobby and you quickly jogged to catch up to him.

“You’re the girl from last night who put Henry Cavilla in his place?” Benny Watts smirked at you as he recalled the previous nights events.

“Um.” You felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I was just wondering if I could get a statement before the tournament began?”

“You’re a reporter?” Benny cocked his eyebrow at you, his eyes scanning you up and down shamelessly.

“Yes. For Chess Review.” You informed him.

“Follow me.” Benny nodded his head sideways towards the table he was heading to and you did as you were told.

“I was wondering how you were feeling about this weekend and possibly going up against Beth Harmon?” You asked as you sat yourself down opposite the man.

“I won’t be possibly going up against Beth Harmon. I fully expect to be going up against her. Out of everyone here, she is the only person I see as potential competition.” Benny admitted, picking up his knife and fork as his breakfast was set down on the table.

“Are you sure there’s no one else? Harry Beltik went into his tournament in Kentucky assuming no one but Cullen was any competition to him and yet Beth Harmon came along.” You stated, jotting down some notes to avoid watching the man eat.

“Well then, they’ll just have to surprise me.” His eyes locked onto yours when he spoke. His lip just edging into a smirk.

“Thank you for your statement.” You felt your stomach flip and you jumped to your feet, gathering your things.

“Would you not like a full interview or was the three sentence statement enough?” Benny cocked his head round as you began to leave.

“It was four, actually.” You corrected him, tapping your notepad with your pen.

The man huffed out a short chuckle.

“I’d be grateful for an interview later on this weekend, Mr Watts, if you don’t mind?”

“I’ll find you when I’m ready.” Benny told you and from the look in his eyes, that’s what he really meant.

The day went by quicker than expected, it was impossible to watch every game of the day so you watched Beth��s and Benny’s and you filled yourself in with the plays of any others that would make good press.

You loved watching the game being played, you always tried to predict the outcome and 9 times out of 10 you got it correct except with Beth Harmon and Benny Watts.

They surprised you and it was thrilling to watch. You admired Harmon’s intuition and her attacks. Watts had always been an interesting watch all through his career but you’d only seen him play a handful of times in person before today.

In the evening, you received a call from the big bosses asking how everything was going.

“I have an interview set up with Beth Harmon and Benny Watts.” You told them with confidence.

“Good girl. Now get those interviews done quickly and send me a draft as soon as you can.” Your boss ordered before ending the call.

You sighed, running a hand over your tired face.

You picked up the bottle of wine you had in a metal cooler to see it was empty. Room service had taken so long to bring it up previously, you decided to just slip your slippers on and head down to the bar to get one final glass of wine before bed.

You were wearing a nightie so you pulled a coat on over the top in case you bumped into anyone.

As you walked down the hall, you could hear the familiar voice of Benny Watts behind you.

He was spewing some chess facts to whoever he was with as he walked.

You peaked behind your shoulder to see he was heading to his room which was three doors up from yours.

He spotted you too.

You went into the elevator to head down to the bar.

The bar was still busy despite the time and you had to wait for your wine.

You took the glass and returned to your room.

Your eyes couldn’t help but linger on the hotel room of Mr Benny Watts as you thought of tomorrows games.

“You’re not stalking me, are you?” Benny startled you as he came up from behind.

“Jesus...” You gasped, spinning round to face him.

“Trying to get the dirt on who I’m sleeping with?” The man cocked his eyebrow, his hands tucked in his tight jeans.

“Seems like the other way round since you keep appearing behind me.” You referred to earlier.

“Maybe you just like being in my way?” You couldn’t deny that Benny Watts, the Benny Watts, was flirting with you right now.

“Goodnight Mr Watts. Good luck tomorrow.” You gripped your door handle tightly.

“Please, call me Benny.”

(NEXT PART HERE)

#benny watts #benny watts x reader #the queens gambit #the queens gambit imagines #benny watts imagines #beth harmon #Beth harmon imagines #Thomas Brodie Sangster #Thomas Brodie sangster imagines #newt #anya Taylor joy

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shiny-jr · 4 years ago

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❝ ᴏ ɴ ᴄ ᴇ ᴜ ᴘ ᴏ ɴ ᴀ ᴅ ʀ ᴇ ᴀ ᴍ ❞

➼ 𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕄𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕦𝕤 𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕚𝕒

It was a dream.

(Y/n) hummed as they skipped along the brick path. This place was beautiful, a sizable garden surrounded by dark woods. Gentle raindrops trickled down from the gray clouds dotting the sky, but they weren’t heavy enough to block out the setting sun’s orange glow it casted on the earth.

Merrily they jumped in the forming puddles, enjoying this illusion in dreamland. With each hop, water splashed upwards. Not caring if their hair got soaked or their raincoat was covered in droplets, they continued to have fun while singing softly all the while, “I’m singin’ in the rain. Just singin’ in the rain~”

I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream.

(Y/n) stopped in their tracks, gaining the feeling of being watched. Looking back, they spotted a figure a few feet behind them. Stopping their fun, they faced the stranger fully with newfound curiosity.

The man blinked, stunning lime green eyes that seemed to glow gazed directly at them. “Hm…?” The stranger had a forbidding appearance, unsmiling and staggeringly tall. From his head were two black curved horns against his jet black hair. His voice slightly deep and he spoke clearly, his words echoing in the empty space around them, “Who are you?”

In the near silence, he could hear their quiet heartbeat. It wasn’t speeding up, it remained at a steady pace. The dripping and flowing water from the fountain sounded, calm and soothing. Right, this was a dream, (Y/n) remembered. There was no real man with horns, this was just a figment of the imagination.

(Y/n) stared back unwaveringly, just as confused as they murmured, “A guy…?” Why would a guy with such a strange feature appear in their dreams?

The man studied them from afar, crossing his arms. His expression remained unchanging, his gaze never leaving their form even as he reached a conclusion. “…You are a child of man.” Still, the question remained, what was a human doing in his dreamland? “How did you get here?” For a moment he appeared a bit irritated that his dreams were ruined by this newcomer. “This is a rare moment when I sleep, and I discover you…”

The young dreamer jumped on the stone edge of a large water fountain, continuing to watch the man from afar. Folding their hands behind their back, they too had many questions. Most importantly, “Who are you?”

For the first time since encountering, the man expressed an emotion: surprise. His eyes widened slightly, silent for a moment before beginning, “Who are… You don’t know who I am? Truly?”

“Should I know who you are?”

A smile crossed his features as he shook his head, “That is… exceedingly rare. Disregard that then. What should I call you?”

“My name is (Y/n).” Offering a smile, they hopped off the water fountain and approached fearlessly. Extending their hand out to him, they continued politely, “It’s nice to meet you,...?”

Astonished that this mere human had the bravery to approach and shake his hand. They really weren’t lying when they said they had no idea who he was. Accepting their hand, he felt their warmth against his cold skin, shaking firmly. “Likewise, what a pleasant encounter… (Y/n)? That’s an unusual name…” When they released their hold on his hand, his arm fell back to his side. The corner of his lips tugged upwards into a smile again, “I’m Mal--... Actually, no. I won’t tell you. Not knowing is for your own benefit. The moment you hear it you’ll feel a frost spread over your skin.”

“Okay… Got it, buddy.” (Y/n) calmly walked back to the water fountain, noticing that the man was following from a distance. “So, if you won’t tell me your name, what the heck am I supposed to call you then?”

“For your ignorance, as an exception, I’ll allow you to call me whatever you like… Though you may come to regret that someday…”

(Y/n) hopped back onto the water fountain, balancing on the edge before facing him again. Able to look him at eye-level now that they stood on this elevated platform. “I’ll think of a nickname eventually. For now I’ll just call you my dream buddy!” Gazing into the blue waters, they stepped in the water fountain. The soles of their rubber boots were submerged, creating small splashes with every hop. They paused once they felt the stare of the young man. Turning to face him, they offered him a hand while inquiring with an eager smile, “Wanna join me, dream buddy?”

“...” He raised an eyebrow before slowly accepting their hand, giving in to that warm smile and child-like twinkle in their eyes. “Very well. I will join you, child of man.”

The two dreamers spent their night together, (Y/n) splashing in the fountain and puddles with hops and jumps, while the mysterious man walked along the water with grace and elegance. After some conversation, he explained that the area they walked in was one he recognized, one from a school of magic he attended. The young human found the man to be strange, but interesting and calming. Even Malleus had to admit, this human he discovered in his dreams had a certain charm to them, they were unafraid of him.

“That’s crazy! There’s no magic in my world. The closest thing we have to magic is electricity and technology, but I’m not sure if that counts.” (Y/n) laughed lightly, entranced when their dream buddy spoke of magic, spells, and potions.

“Is that so?” He hummed, intrigued by their comment. A world without magic, huh?

Beep!

(Y/n) perked up at the familiar beep, scanning the area for the source of the sound. Their vision grew hazy and everything else, even that strange man, sounded distant. Looking up at him, those gleaming green eyes staring down at them.

“(Y/n)? Is something amiss?”

I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.

BEEP!

(Y/n) sat up with a jolt, feeling the loose pajamas on their skin and their bare feet against the warmth of the blanket. Underneath them they felt the familiar softness of their bed. Instinctively their hand reached out, tapping the alarm clock to prevent it from letting out another screeching beep. Yawning as they fell back onto their mattress, left to stare up at the ceiling while muttering,

“What a weird dream…”

❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂

A few days passed from the night of that dream. That entire day after, they couldn’t help but wonder and look back at it. It felt so real and the scenery was beautiful, and their dream buddy seemed kind. However, after that day, like all dreams, it was forgotten, until nearly a week after.

And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem.

(Y/n) found themself in their dreamland, this time in an environment more familiar to them. A giant park that seemed to stretch forever with the towering skyscrapers of the city over the horizon. Like before, the sun was setting causing the sky to turn dark. Green orbs of light floated in the air, making the space appear magical. Humming as they followed the lights, singing softly as they went along, “A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you’re fast asleep~” Walking along a bridge that arched over water, a skip in their step as they enjoyed the breeze. “In dreams you will lose your heartaches. Whatever you wish for, you keep~”

“My, what a lovely voice you have.”

The young dreamer stopped, turning around only to see that same mysterious man standing on the other side of the bridge. Brightening up, they smiled as they recognized those lime green eyes and those black horns. “Hey, my dream buddy! Malmal!”

“Malmal? By Malmal are you possibly referring to me…?”

“Yeah, you said I could refer to you however I like. You know, since I never got the full name. Just Mal, so I came up with Malmal, or I can call you Mal, either or.” (Y/n) stopped in front of him, frowning lightly as they inquired, “Would you like a different name or something?”

But if I know you, I know what you’ll do.

A smile appeared on the man’s face, laughing in disbelief, “Pfft… Haha! There aren’t many who refer to me with such nicknames. You really seem to know no fear. It is fine. I am not opposed to it, I quite like it.”

“Great! It’s settled then!”

“This is the second time I’ve encountered you in my dreams, child of man. Why is that?”

(Y/n) shrugged before admitting, “I have no clue. I honestly thought you were just part of my imagination at first, but it’s kinda obvious that’s not the case anymore. Everything feels so real, and I can actually remember the dream!”

The man’s gaze drifted towards the end of the bridge, overlooking the water and the greenery of the park. Over the trees he could see strange gray rectangle shaped buildings towering high, almost as if they were scraping the sky. “I do not recognize this place. Is this by chance part of your magicless world?”

“Yep, in all it’s magicless glory!”

You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream.

Much of their time spent together that night, (Y/n) explained their homeworld to their dream buddy. However, their time did not stop there. Every week, the same phenomenon occurred, where their dreams were connected somehow despite the fact they were from two different worlds. Every time it happened, the two met and spent their time together. For so long this went on, and each time Malleus felt more connected to the fearless human that befriended him. Slowly but surely, he began to look forward to the sleep he didn’t need but still desired for a chance at connecting with (Y/n) again.

After three months, (Y/n) fell asleep eager as ever, and awoke in an unfamiliar forest. Sometime before they awoke, their dream buddy, Mal, would stumble upon their location and they’d get to spend another wonderful night together. So, while they waited for him to appear, they pranced around barefoot on the soft green grass, weaving around the pine trees as they sang a song they recalled, “I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream~”

Their dream buddy emerged from the forest, going unnoticed by the human. For a moment he stood off to the side, listening to their lovely voice sing such a pleasant and familiar melody. He watched them dance alone, his lime green eyes following their every movement as a smile curled at his lips.

“You’ll love me at once,”

Once their back was turned, he stepped forward and took their hands in his. Joining their waltz, and finishing the lyric in his low and smoky voice, “The way you did once upon a dream~...”

(Y/n) turned to face the young man, shocked at his sudden arrival. “Mal!” He continued to hold their hand as they visibly relaxed upon seeing it was just their dream buddy. “Nice day, right? Oh, I mean, nice night, huh?”

“Yes, it is a nice night.” Finally pulling his hand away, he inquired softly yet somewhat hopefully, “Are you here you provide me company once again?”

“Yeah! I was wondering where you were, you know. You’ll never guess what happened to me today!”

But if I know you, I know what you’ll do.

After six months of meeting, the strangest event occurred, much stranger than their dreams.

(Y/n) was at a party, a huge gathering at a popular bar. Deciding to take a break from the tight-packed crowds, blasting music, and flashing lights, they snuck away from their friends and found a private area on the balcony of one of the higher-level floors. It was beginning to drizzle, but they continued to watch the sunset without a care as the tiny droplets landed on their hair and their clothes.

Malleus was on one of his nightly strolls, it was peaceful and quiet, with only the chirping of crickets or the occasional hoot of an owl. It was easy to escape the watchful eye of the knights Sebek and Silver, quickly forgetting about them as his mind wandered off to the thought of (Y/n). Usually by now, he’d try to sleep in hopes of seeing them, but the human had mentioned last night that they’d be busy tonight and not have much time for sleep. He wondered what they were doing, who they were with, what were they talking about, where were they, were they smiling at this very moment?

Deep in thought, the fae was unable to think of anyone or anything but (Y/n) for quite some time. He had to wonder, would things be different if they were here in Twisted Wonderland with him? Such a thought made him smile. If that were to happen, he wouldn’t have to sleep to see them only twice or three times a week. He’d get to see them everyday, day or night, awake or asleep. Holding up his staff, he recalled the ancient spell he found in his hours of research. Perhaps, he could get another glimpse of them this way. Underneath his breath he chanted the spell. His pace slowed as he felt vibrations underneath him and in the air, the beating of music distant but he could still hear it and feel it. Lifting his head, he looked around until he spotted a familiar figure.

You’ll love me at once.

(Y/n) tensed upon feeling a gaze on them, fearing it was some drunkard that somehow made their way to the balcony. However, when they turned and saw those familiar lime green eyes and those black horns, they dropped their glass beverage.

CLINK!

The beverage shattered against the floor, the human gaping at the sight of their otherworldly friend before them.

Malleus was pleased the spell worked. He could see them, they could see him. Of course, he wasn’t actually there in their world, but he could sense some of the things around them. The booming music and vibrations, the distant sound of lively chatter. That must’ve all been around (Y/n). Seeing the shock on their face, he chuckled, “Hello, child of man.” Wanting to step forward, to engulf them in his arms, but he couldn’t move a step. He was frozen in place, just mere feet away.

“Mal?” (Y/n) appeared confused, so many questions buzzing in their mind. They too were unable to move forward, but that didn’t stop their questions. “How are you-- How is this-- I-- You’re doing this with your magic?”

“(Y/n)!” Distant voices called. Malleus looked at the source, able to see the hazy figures of multiple people joyfully calling out for his child of man, “What are you doing out here?! Let’s go back in and party!”

Party? (Y/n) skipped their meeting, the times he looked forward to, for a party with those people? He felt the vibrations vanish, and the illusion of his dear dream buddy disappeared as well. Holding his hand up to his jet black hair, he could feel the droplets that remained in his hair from the light rain in their world.

Perhaps it would be best to try a different approach…

The way you did once upon a dream.

❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂ ❂

I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream.

It took a lot of work to find a spell that could transfer him to an entirely different world, it took the effort of both himself and Lilia to cast the spell. Even then, only one person could enter and he only had limited time to locate and find his dream buddy. Recognizing the park they often wandered in their dreams, the real thing was here just across the street. Looking up at the skyscrapers, he racked his memories for the one (Y/n) pointed to and called home. Finally, he spotted it.

It was a quaint apartment complex compared to the towering buildings lining every walkway. It was the middle of the night, so barely anyone was out. The building was brick and he imagined a few dozen other humans must’ve lived within, judging by the many windows. However, he recalled the important detail (Y/n) mentioned, about a small garden rooftop and their star-gazing spot.

In an instant, he teleported himself to the roof and saw it. A space made of glass with dew drops covering the clear walls, plants lining the wall and off to one-side within the glass room was a swinging bench. There they lay, his sleeping beauty, fast asleep. His green eyes gleamed, he felt his heart pick up speed as he reached for the door knob, silently entering as to not disturb their slumber.

I know you, that gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.

Upon entering, he could feel the warmth in the room that contrasted to the cold outside. Instantly, large black wings sprouted out from his back. The black feathers of his wings grazed over the green plants, causing thorns to rise up from the soil and suffocate the plant life that once grew there.

And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem.

Once he towered over their vulnerable sleeping form, he knelt down beside them. Lime green eyes took in every inch of body, his mind soaking in every detail and angle of their face. They were here, truly right here in front of him, so close that he could just touch them. His pupils dilated as he slowly reached forward, cold fingers lingering over their warm skin and soft hair. The contact serving as evidence that this was no longer just a dream he could long for, this was reality. When they began to stir awake and their eyes fluttered open, he smiled as his dear child of man, his beloved dream buddy.

But if I know you, I know what you’ll do.

“Mal…?” (Y/n) sat up, dazed and confused as they blinked sleepily. Perhaps this was still a part of their dream. “W-What are you doing here…?”

That smile on his lips remained as he picked them up, cradling them in his arms while his wings wrapped around them. The black feathers brushing against her skin, for the first time ever, (Y/n) was frightened of their dream buddy. They shivered when his cold skin touched them and those lime green eyes unwavering as he spoke, “I’m taking you home, back with me where you belong, my sleeping beauty…”

You’ll love me at one, the way you did once upon a dream.

- You might like this!

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taeescript · 4 years ago

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29+1 (Part Three - Finale)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (taehyung x reader?!?!)

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin (fluff & definite smut)

𝔴𝔠: 10.7k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: 18+ only. descriptions of sex (are you really that surprised after the last part?): including rejected then unrejected condom use (practice safe kids), possible more unprotected drunk sex, one night stands, lots more mentions of sex, slight unrequited love, more sexts, and Seokjin being a downright meanie (redemption arc?!)

𝔞/𝔫: each part just gets longer - sorrynotsorry. but here is the finale. life gets messy, but we only ever really learn from failures, right? feedback and comments are forever welcomed. as always, enjoy (:

part one | part two

The two of you fumble in the darkness into the room. The majority of guests have since returned home, but there is still loud music and the rhythms of its bass punctuating through the ceiling into the floorboards of the upstairs.

You had initially suggested any of the guest rooms but Seokjin had said that if there was going to be sex, it would be done in Junho’s bedroom where the bed is the softest and the pillows the fluffiest.

After a brief and awkward encounter with the security guard who had rejected the two of you away from the staircase leading upstairs, Seokjin had led you up the back entrance where only the occupants of the house could navigate to.

“No, fuck this is weird. Junho is going to sleep here tonight,” Seokjin suddenly says.

Your fingers fumble to undo the buttons of his shirt, but it has been tucked in so tightly it now hangs halfway undone.

“He’s your best friend. He’s probably heard you fucking through the walls when you were university roomies. Can you undo your own buckle? It’s making your shirt get caught,” you say hastily.

The door slams shut behind you, as he pushes you roughly against it. His kisses are heated, making you claw at his bareback as he works on your request.

“Where’s the – ”

“Zipper’s on the side,” you manage to rasp out. The knot in your abdomen tightens when your dress comes loose and falls to the ground.

You do not know how the two of you make it onto the bed. The room swirls with you as he throws you onto the sheets.

From the light casted in through the windows, you find yourself dwarfed by the silhouette of his broad shoulders and muscular torso. You scoot back to make room for him on the bed, the only thought overwhelming your mind is the need to feel this man on you.

He growls, hitting his shin on the jutting edge of the bed. He swears quite loudly (and foully), but it doesn’t stop him from advancing, eyes lusting over the rise and fall of your breasts and the glisten between your legs.

“Fuck,” he says again, coming onto you with a ferocity of an animal in heat. He pins your arms above your head and begins to lower himself down.

“Wait!” you suddenly scream. It makes him balk in his advance. “You might have good genes, but I’m not risky any bratty children even if my eggs are shriveling up by the second.”

He brings his hips closer to you once again.

“Seokjin! Protection? Condom?”

His eyes scan the room wildly. “It’s fine. I don’t want any of your bratty children either,” he brushes aside your concern.

You sit up. “Fuck no. How am I sure that you’re not going to pass on something weird to me? We’re using one.”

He pulls open the drawer next to the bed but comes up empty handed.

“You don’t have one,” you say when it hits you, “Mr. I’m-Prepared-For-Anything was not prepared for this.”

You see him hunker down in the slightest, bringing a hand in front.

“I don’t get how I’m supposed to anticipate when I have sex. But for your information, I do. It’s just the one I have might be old and ineffective.”

Laughing, you push him onto the bed and reach down to where your small purse had been discarded for the night. You wonder if he has comprehended the impact on your sexual drive when telling you that he carries old condoms.

The deep moan escapes from him before he can stop it. Your hand holds his shaft as you slip the protective latex over it. Then before he can say anything more, you lower yourself onto him.

...

Drunk sex can be fun, but for the most part, it is mostly just downright messy.

You hope he does not remember when you had been moving just a little too roughly, ended up sitting on him at an awkward angle and causing him to yelp in pain. You also hope that it had been your imagination in throwing up just a little bit when he had his dick shoved up your mouth.

Right now, however, is pure bliss.

Your fist tightens your hold on his hair and the other hand pushes against the headboard of the bed. Your panting increases as you continue to gyrate against his lips and tongue, his nose burying itself and hitting the bud every so often.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, buckling when he grips your ass.

You have lost track of time. You don’t care if Junho doesn’t make it to his bedroom tonight. All you know is that twenty minutes ago you had tried to fall asleep only to find Seokjin nibbling your ear and hands slipping beneath your pubic line. Not to mention the hardening of his boner against your back.

“Oh god,” you breathe again. The thought of the aforementioned sends you into a deeper lust.

You are torn out from your thoughts when you notice that he is saying something at the moment. Looking down at him, your heart skips a beat in seeing the mess you have made on his face.

The air is sickly with the scent of alcohol mixed with your perfume and his cologne.

“I want to fuck you,” he is saying in nearly a moan, “I need to fuck you.”

He removes himself from under you. On his knees behind you, he pulls your hips towards him and your face falls onto the sweat soaked pillowcase. He is not gentle when widening your stance so he can enter from behind. A hand is firmly pushing on the crook of your back, and the silent ‘o’ of your face reflecting back upon the mirror over the bed sends a painful spasm down. His erection grows impossibly bigger.

He moves at a merciless pace, sending waves of pleasure throughout your entire body and the room fills with lewd sounds of skin slapping and sucking as you take in the length of his shaft. Reaching around so that he can only stretch your walls further and ram into you deeper, his fingers circle your clit to hit it in a way that brings tears into your eyes at the stimulation. He is content when a line of profanities mingled with his name stream out from your mouth.

“Come for me, baby girl. Come for daddy.”

Your words hitch in your throat upon hearing his command. With all your will, you push yourself away from him and turn to face him.

His chest glistens as he kneels erect in front of you. The thoughts that swirl around in your mind right now; the things that you want for him to do; the things that you want to do. The things you are willing to beg to do.

“Let’s get this straight. First things first, I am not your baby girl,” you say, bringing yourself up to your knees. His lips are swollen and he does not hide the way his eyes rake over every inch of your body as you are before him.

“Secondly,” You grab him and pull him down with you so that your back hits the bed first. “You’re going to fuck me like this.”

Your fingers are coated in your arousal when you guide him so that he slides his entire girth between your folds. You watch as his tongue flicks out and swirls around two of your digits before he gorges them to the knuckles. The sound he makes at this moment sends you hurtling towards the edge.

“And third,” you stop yourself short, biting onto his shoulder while he begins to thrust into you again. “You’re going to come first, Daddy.”

You cannot prepare yourself for the impact. He brings your legs above his shoulders, moving at a pace and depth that you did not think he was possible of until now. Your nails rip into the skin of his back, your chanting of his name like a prayer for him to keep going.

He feels you shaking beneath him, and god, you are so incredibly sexy even with your hair plastered across your forehead. He knows that you are about to tip over but he cannot disobey your order. You mewl in displeasure when he stops, his head in you just far enough to stretch the beginnings of your walls.

“Me first, right?” His eyes do not leave your face. Anther few inches deeper.

You meet him with an angry kiss, grasping for him. He slides the entirety of himself in, and the muscles of his glutes tense at the impact. Letting him ride until he has reaches his high, you bring him even closer to you as you feel his warmth spread through you. He dips down, cleaning you with his tongue, and his lips do not leave yours until you have released yourself over the curling of his fingers.

The both of you are panting heavily as you lay side by side on the king-sized mattress with its silk sheets and lavish satiny blanket. There are unceremoniously dumped rubbers on the floor. You pull the sheets over yourself to cover the stark nakedness you feel, and you inhale sharply at the realization that indeed, you just had sex with your boss.

You hiccup, and a loud burp erupts from you filled with the aftertaste of high-end liquour. You giggle, still ever so slightly inebriated from the events of the night.

“You’d better not be this drunk next weekend,” Seokjin says from beside you. He takes a corner of the sheets and covers himself as well. Even his voice electrifies you. You have to hold your breath for a moment to will yourself to not crawl back closer to him.

“Don’t worry. This is why we did this dry run,” you reassure him.

The house has been quiet for a while and somewhere in the distance, you hear the chime of a bell. It indicates that it is very well past midnight at this point. “I really hope that Junho doesn’t sleep in here tonight,” you say, still staring at the ceiling.

“I texted him,” is Seokjin’s reply.

You turn your head and look at him, face stoic. He returns with a look of his own, the dark pupils of his eyes only beginning to ease the previous hunger. Your heart does a painful leap, and you return your gaze back upon the ceiling.

“Did you have a condom on?”

There is no response. You see that his eyes are closed and there is a gentle rhythmic movement of his chest.

You turn your back to Seokjin’s sleeping form and do not wake from your slumber until early the next morning.

Well, shit.

...

It is the day before the Silver Gala. Taehyung had asked you if you wanted to grab dinner with him. You agreed, and went home first to freshen up before meeting him at the restaurant as he had to stay later at the office to finish up some work.

You hadn’t known exactly what to expect on the Monday when you returned to work. The following day after the whole escapade (ahem sexcapade), you had met with Jimin and Taehyung as previously planned. Neither commented on your choice to wear a scarf despite the humid summer weather. Brunch had been pleasant enough, but your mind had been distant throughout the entire afternoon.

You had felt guilty lying to your own brother when asked how your night out had been, and since Taehyung had not brought it up, you had chosen not to speak to him about it either. And that desperately killed you because you had discovered that you did not like keeping secrets from him. You liked being able to talk to him about anything and everything on your mind.

When you dropped Jimin off at the airport a few days after brunch, he had made a small comment about how he’s glad you’ve found someone to talk to. He had been worried that his little sister would be alone throughout her internship. You had reassured him that you are more than capable of handling yourself, but thank him for his concern nonetheless. You even reassure that you have only about a two and a half weeks left of this work contract, and that you may just decide to return home for a while. He had given you a much longer hug than anticipated, then said, “Good people are hard to come by.” You had asked him what he meant by that but all you received was a cryptic smile.

The days had continued to roll by uneventfully. No longer did you have lunch meetings with your boss. Not that you had minded, considering the pile of work that seems to be growing on your desk. And the minor fact that whenever you looked at your boss all you could see was his naked sweaty body.

You have noticed, however, that he has been just a little bit kinder to you. He is a little more courteous; you catch a small “thank you” one morning when you deliver his coffee. You even contemplate on not submitting the Starbucks receipt for reimbursement as a small gesture of gratitude to him for taking care of you (in more ways than one) that night.

All in all, things had been running fine.

Okay, okay. You may have omitted one big thing; let’s do a tiny bit of a rewind.

To begin, your thoughts on the situation are completely valid. The two of you had been consenting adults. Sure, some alcohol may have been involved, but when you break it down, the two of you had an itch that only the other could have satisfied that night. Nothing wrong with that.

So why the night after meeting Jimin and Taehyung in the morning for lunch had you taken a photo exposing more than just your toes. Of course, you hadn’t sent it (you’re not trying that desperately to ruin your own life), but it sits in your gallery a button away from flying.

It is this photo that you stare at while sitting on the toilet, minutes away from leaving the house. Your fingers hover over the trash can icon. You had to admit to yourself that you looked good. The red frilly garter set that sat at the back of your lingerie drawer had not been used since…well, it just hadn’t been used. But seeing yourself all dolled up made you feel sexy and extremely confidant.

“Just delete it,” you whisper into the air. “Why are you keeping it anyways if you’re not planning on sending it. And if you truly want to send it in the future, you could always take a new one. But also: delete it.”

Seriously though. You find yourself extremely frustrated in the fact that you couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye to a photo of yourself. And in all honesty, you felt a little sad if it were to be permanently gone. Like a missed chance to show someone just how good you could look.

Let’s find your name beside the definition of “narcissistic”.

“Fuck it,” you say, pulling your pants up. You zip up the jeans and stick your phone in the back pocket, turned off and conundrum forgotten.

You are putting a final brush of lip gloss when your phone buzzes on your vanity table.

7:48pm “Hey Y/N. Sorry I’m running a little bit late. I just need another five minutes.”

You promptly reply.

7:48pm “No worries. I can go to the restaurant first and get us seats. Pick out a wine or something for us to share?”

Keys, wallet, extra cash. All check. You glance at your phone again and see that Taehyung has yet to reply. Knowing him, he is probably rushing right now trying to finish whatever it is. He hated being late and keeping people waiting.

Buzz.

7:50pm “I need to see you.”

You stare at the text, feet frozen on the ground. Your palms suddenly get strangely clammy and the more you stare at the text, the more the words seem to shift and blur in your eyesight. Your heart is thundering as you type a response.

7:53pm “At the office?”

His text back comes immediately.

7:53pm “No. My house. I’ll send you the address.”

Indeed, the address is shot through, and you recognize the street name as part of an expensive neighbourhood with fancy buildings and bougie restaurants. Surely, it must not be professional for you to go up directly to your boss’ place of personal living. Also, what would he need you for that could not be done at the office, the place of work?

You desperately wish you had somebody to talk this over with, but Jimin knew nothing about you and Seokjin, and neither did Taehyung. Besides, the latter was still at work. Taking a seat on the stairway by the door, you decide to consult the next best thing: Google.

“Booty call (n): someone who receives a text or call by a bastard between the times of 12am – 3am for a hookup. The bastard will usually greet the booty call with a simple ‘hey’ or ‘what’s up?’”

You nervously bite on your fingernail. Technically, it is only 8pm. He also did not greet with “hey” or “what’s up?” but then again, he never texted you before. His direct message may as well have been the equivalent of “hey” or “what’s up?”. Swallowing, you scan through the next part of the text definition.

“The bastard enjoys using the booty call for sex and nothing else. No friendship is involved.”

You set the phone down beside you. Two consenting adults. An itch that only the other could satisfy. No. Seokjin’s lame ass probably wouldn’t even know what a booty call was. It’s always about work with him.

8:00pm “I want you”

8:00pm “Right now.”

You suddenly see yourself in that garter set again with its frills and open hearts in all the wrong/right places.

...

Seokjin drums his fingers on his bar table impatiently. He had sent you the text over half an hour ago and had not received a single response. He ponders if you had even received the text message or if you were already drinking the night away, as you had often told him would be your Friday evening.

Meandering over to his personal shelf of liquor, he uncaps a bottle of whiskey and prepares an iced glass.

He hopes that you will be the answer to his problem. If somebody had asked him only a few weeks ago if he could have ever envisioned himself in this situation, he would have denied it vehemently. However, the weekend with you had had him contemplating things over and over in his head all week.

Most thoughts were often of matters strictly at hand, but sometimes he found himself staring into space after a particularly sinful image of you interrupts his client meeting. It also hadn’t helped that with the incoming heat wave summer brings, the general population elects to wear a little less than usual, and you being in that halter dress had done him zero favours.

Blinking, he realizes he has poured a little more than his usual amount of whiskey. He exhales sharply, duly noting the slight increase in his heartbeat, and clears his throat despite being the only person home. There is the low rumbling of a car engine in the background, and he is reminded of a moan that suspiciously resembles an employee he cannot wipe out of his mind.

He checks his phone once again to see if there had been any missed messages while combing his fingers through his hair. The least you could do would be to at least send some type of message of whether or not you wanted to come. He wouldn’t be offended – it is slightly inappropriate to be seeing you outside of the office (you as his plus one as an exception) – but he knew he would be more offended if you simply left him hanging.

The sip of whiskey helps ease the tension around his neck after sitting in video conferences all day. Without much of a thought, he swipes the barstool beside him and inspects it of dust.

The doorbell rings.

You are tugging at the jacket you have chosen for the occasion: the longest one you own. During your Uber over, you had tried your best not to make eye contact with the driver, but you do not know if that had made him more or less apprehensive of his passenger. You knock this time, the itch building beneath the jacket.

“Did you tour the city?” he says with a drawl when he opens the door.

You meet his eyes shyly. They are regarding you with amusement. There is the smell of robust acidity when you brush past him to enter his penthouse. The lights are dimmed in the space except for a bulb hanging over the enormous kitchen island counters. A wall of expensive bottles line one side of the wall, and you spy the culprit of the previous smell on the bar table.

He continues to watch you with a bemused smile as you stand transfixed at the large space decorated with post-modern furniture. Most of it is a near clinical white, but a splash of pink and greens accent the walls or as a central statement piece.

“Would you like anything to drink?” he asks.

Startled, you glance at his wall. You recognize none of the labels and tell him that you’ll just take whatever it is that he has. You stand in your spot and watch as he rolls back his sleeves to pour you a drink. Your fingers clutch and pull the jacket around your shoulders tighter around your body as you are reminded of the muscles beneath the set of his light tunic and velvet trousers.

He hands the drink to you, noticing how cold your fingertips are when they brush against his. This is the first time he has seen you with your hair fully down and not in the work day ponytail you often sport. He notices the flush of pink blush you have applied and the same scent of perfume he has smelled before. Your legs are bare and he can’t help but wonder where you had been planning to go before he had called you to be dressed up like so. He also notices how often you are picking at your jacket.

“Sit.” He gestures to the couch. “You can take off the jacket if you want. I don’t have a coat hanger so drape it over a chair if you want.”

It may have been his imagination, but you seem to turn an even lighter shade of pink.

“R-Right now? You want me to undress now?”

He crosses his arms across his chest. Even though the tunic is loose-fitted, it does not hide the broadness of his shoulders and the definition of his deltoids. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. The jacket is borderline hideous so maybe keep cover whatever else you’ve got planned underneath there.” He takes a seat across from you and crosses a long leg.

You can feel your entire body heating up as he runs his eyes up and down your body. It should not be possible for someone to look as good as he did simply sitting, swirling his cup lazily with the barely there smirk.

No friendship. Just sex.

You throw back the drink, nearly gagging at the unfamiliar taste. “I haven’t ever really done this before, so I’m just going to go for it,” you say. You stand and inhale deeply. Taking a few steps forward, you walk towards him.

Seokjin watches as you come closer. He sees as you begin to fumble at the buttons of your jacket. In one swift motion, you have suddenly ended up straddled on his lap.

You press your lips against his, gripping the back of his head and interloping your fingers through the soft tendrils of his hair. He tastes like the sweet whiskey you had both shared and an undertone of mint. You press your own heated body against his chest.

“What in the – ” he says, pushing you off him. He is stopped short only when his eyes land on what you had been concealing beneath the jacket.

...

Taehyung had ran as fast as he could from the subway station. Just as he was exiting, he had spied a small flower stand and in the spur of the moment, had decided to purchase a bouquet consisting of magnolias and roses.

He hadn’t meant for the entire thing to have taken that long. He had planned the speech in his mind for days prior, and had even rehearsed it in front of his mirror that morning of. Yet when it came time, and they were standing before one another, his mouth had simply went dry.

He hopes that you haven’t been waiting long, as the five minutes he had texted you about had turned into a solid thirty. He knew there would be raised voices, and he knew that there might even be tears. But he had not anticipated his own feeling of sadness in knowing that there was truly no going back.

“Um, table for two? I think my friend may already be here,” he says to the hostess when he arrives.

Her fingers deftly flip through a few pages of her book. “Do you have a name?”

Taehyung offers yours. “But I don’t think we have a reservation. She may have walked in a while ago?” He proceeds to give a simple description of what you look like. The hostess shakes her head; Taehyung thanks her and shuffles to the side so that the couple behind him could have their turn.

8:42pm “Hey, Y/N. Sorry again. I just arrived. Text me where you’re sitting? I have something that will hopefully make it up to you.”

He leans against the wall, trying his best to catch his breath while ignoring the frantic thumping of his heart. He still does not know if what he did was for the best. He doesn’t know what this could mean for his own future. All he knows is that he needs to speak to you first.

Five minutes pass. Ten. Another fifteen.

He has sent you another text with similar words as the first, but has yet to receive any reply. Calling you has only lead to your voicemail, and knowing that you are not an avid checker of that, he was not able to leave you a message there either. Deciding that maybe you had gone to the bathroom or perhaps you had simply not arrived yet but stuck in traffic elsewhere, he sends you once last text.

9:12pm “Call me when you receive this. I have something important to tell you.”

One incoming text.

Taehyung grips the bouquet harder, missing the vibrations of his phone. His mind is preoccupied with the other speech he has prepared once he is able to see you face to face.

9:13pm “Fuck you, Kim Taehyung. For the record, you’re not the one breaking up with me. I am. I hope the two of you burn in hell together.”

...

Your entire face is burning hotter than your body had been minutes earlier. You have returned to the seat you had been in originally and Seokjin had moved to the further end of the couch across from you. You are no longer only in the bright red lingerie from before, but in a collared shirt that he had thrown to you after he had thrown you off.

Seokjin clears his throat. He keeps his gaze on either your face or somewhere behind you. He does his best not to comment at the fact that he can still see the red of your thong beneath the sheer shirt he had given you. The shirt dwarfs and swallows your smaller body in it. While he might have commented that you looked cute, he shifts himself uncomfortably in his seat after accidentally (?) glancing at your nipples which protrude beneath the thin material. He gropes awkwardly for a throw pillow but notes that it is on the end of the couch closer to you. He crosses his legs instead.

“So what exactly did you think I called you here for?”

Maybe you could just casually fake a stomachache to escape. But it’s a little too late now. Not that you could exactly run outside looking like this. You slide a little lower in the couch, the cheap material of your thong digging into slits that it should not be digging in. You had spied that the heart shaped cut outs of the top were evident through the transparency of the top, so you had elected to take it off when given the privacy to change. Now you wonder if that had been the correct choice as you are nearly certain that the constant rubbing on your boobs on the shirt would make other things evidently pop.

“You were the one who said that you wanted me. Here I quote: “I want you. Right now.” You show him your phone with the receipts.

He barks out a curt laugh, pushing your phone back to you. He ignores the missed button of your shirt that has exposed more of your skin when you had leaned forward with your phone. “I meant I want you here right now. I’ve been stuck at home in international meetings all day, and wanted to speak with you so I could have my dinner in peace after. I didn’t need you to waste any more of my time by waiting by the doorbell until whenever was convenient for you.”

“Well I’m sorry… You could have maybe switched around your words,” you mutter beneath your breath. Peaking beneath your lashes, you can tell that he has pretended not to hear you. He wets his lips with his tongue before sipping again at his drink. When he removes the cup, they glisten with moisture and look delectably soft and plush.

He can see that you are watching him. Your somewhat shy demeanor at the moment throws him off, and he has to adjust the way he sits again. “Hasn’t anyone taught you proper posture?” he chastises you. Your slouching had only drawn the large shirt up your legs. After you adjust the way you are positioned, he reaches over to a folder that had been on the wooden coffee table. He hands the package to you. “This is the reason that I wanted to talk to you.”

There are pages upon pages of the contract. The words with line after line of legal terms and jargon make you blink several times.

“Isn’t this basically what Yerin does?” you ask once you have breezed through it quickly.

He has returned to sipping at his drink. In the light (and your own soberness), you note how quickly he glows under the influence. You swallow the laugh before it can escape, thinking how much he looked like a little chibi character with his over-dramatic blush.

“Yerin’s due for a contract renewal. I also know that your contract is about to expire as well. In all honesty, you have done more work around the office than she or anyone has.”

“I mean, I’m honoured. But look at the two of us right now. I don’t want the rest of the office to think I’ve slept my way into a position. I’ll be fine after my contract expires.” You say the last sentence as consolation to yourself and him.

He shakes his head. “She gave me her resignation letter last week. She’s moving with her fiancée. I now have a vacant position and I need it filled immediately. I believe that you’d be a good fit.”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “A lifestyle of getting Starbucks orders that run into next week? Can’t exactly say it’s all that enticing to be working for a spawn of Satan.”

This time he laughs loudly audibly. “Is that what you think of me? I’d thought you’d at least be more creative when coming up of nicknames.” He stands and walks back to his liquor cabinet. Returning, he refills both of your cups with a new dark liquid.

“I need time to think about it,” you tell him honestly. “As you have probably figured out, I didn’t exactly plan on being offered a job tonight.”

He uncrosses his legs and leans forward. The neck of his shirt falls, opening up to a dangerous black hole to his chest. “I still can’t believe you thought I had texted for a booty call.”

You lean forward and match his stance. “Your text was seriously misleading, okay? Besides, we haven’t exactly talked about what happened last week so I’m sorry for misinterpreting the weird signals you’ve been putting out.”

“I’ve been sending weird signals.”

“Yes. You haven’t spoken to me all week.”

“I told you, I’ve been in a lot of meetings with our new development plan. You’re not exactly a saint yourself by the way; coming in with new outfits everyday and sashaying deliberately in front of my room to the kitchen.”

You hadn’t known that he had picked up on your new wardrobe, let alone your dumb plan of checking in on him while you go get food. “I didn’t know if we were just going to pretend that it never happened or if, I don’t know, there was something.”

“Do you want there to be something?”

“I said I don’t know.” You throw your hands up in exasperation. “I’m nearly 30 years old. I’ve worked over a dozen unrelated jobs. I’m currently an intern slash personal assistant slash whatever job position you have just offered me. I live in a tiny apartment and spend my weekends either home alone or at a bar with a singular friends. I don’t think I’m exactly screaming sexy vixen here.”

You do not miss the raise of his eyebrow at your last sentence.

“I don’t believe your age needs to have anything to do with your accomplishments,” he says.

“Says the younger successful CEO of his own company,” you snort.

“I believe in bringing out the best colours for any employee in my company. I started DailyHive off with just an idea and nobody to explain to me what I should be doing. It is people like an experienced intern or a helpful stranger on the street who helped me figure out how to set a company off. The only thing that should be addressed with one’s age is that they’ve got extra years of wisdom. They don’t offer anything less because of a few less letters after their name; they offer so much more.

Even if an individual doesn’t stay at the company, I am content in knowing that I am able to be a part of an individual’s journey to better themselves.”

You draw your legs up beneath you. “You’re damn lucky to have found your own colour in the world. I’m a year-old tube with dry stuck paint at its opening. I don’t know what I want.” It takes you a moment to see that he is looking anywhere else but you, when you feel a breeze shift along your butt. You lower your legs again.

“So many people are fixated on finding their own colour,” he says with a sigh. His gaze lingers outside his windows overlooking the city’s twinkling lights filled with bustling cars and families winding down for the night. “I think life is really about creating your own palette. Nobody is ever created with a singular colour. We’re multidimensional beings with changing goals and motives. We can love one thing and hate it the next moment.”

You bring your legs even closer to you. Damn him for being so freaking attractive while talking about humans being a paint palette.

“Yeah okay. Again, let me think about this,” you grumble.

He turns back to look at your. His eyes are solemn but kind and understanding. He brings out his phone. “Send me your resume. Even if you decide against it, at least I’ll have you on file. I’ll forward it to Yerin before she goes so she can send it off to HR as needed.”

You nod. “I’ll AirDrop it to you right now before I can change my mind. Give me a moment.” You curse him and his words that have now begun to worm its way into your mind. Swiping distractedly at your cluttered gallery, you click the file and send it over to his phone.

“There,” you say once you have completed the task. You look up when he does not respond, noting that he is staring intensely at his phone. “Yeah I get it. Like I said, a lot of random-ass jobs. But I’ll be working on building my palette as you’ve so elegantly put it.”

“I, uh,” He clears his throat. “Could you send it again? I don’t think I got it.”

You roll your eyes. “What are you talking about? Here let me see. You probably don’t know how to access it.” You reach for his phone.

He retracts his hand quickly, immediately clicking the lock button. “No!” he says loudly, “I know how to access it. Just send it again.”

You shake your head, back to scrolling through your phone when it shuts off on you. He pushes you off his lap. “Uh, I can’t. It just died.” You look up and see that he is distracted by his phone again.

“It’s fine,” he says after a moment. “Just send Yerin an email directly, I guess.”

“Okay,” you say. The two of you glance at each other in silence. “So,” you begin, “This is a little awkward but I hadn’t really thought I would be going home. Dead phone means no Uber.”

“I have an extra guest room,” he says before you can finish. “I’ll have someone drive you home tomorrow.”

“Still got some good pillows and sheets though, right?” you say cheekily.

He rolls his eyes and gestures for you to follow him.

...

He tosses and turns in his bed after the two of you have retired into your separate rooms. A particular image cannot be removed from his eyes, and the subject of said image lies only a few walls apart from where he is. He reaches over for his phone.

You know you should have been able to fall asleep quickly, especially with the silk pajamas he has lent you and the extra soft pillows he has prepared on your behalf. Yet, there is an enticing thought that continues to run scenarios through your mind. You need a cup of water or at least some fresh air to clear such thoughts, and remember seeing a balcony by the dining area.

Padding as quiet as you can to the door, you open it as smoothly as you can to not disturb the owner of the house. You are about to walk through when you find a large wall in your way.

Seokjin stands in the doorframe. He looks down at you, a sensual shadow that makes you choke on your breath.

He holds up his phone, the last image he received lighting up your room.

...

“You’re sure this is what you want?” you ask, peeking from behind the door frame. Seokjin lounges on his bed, one leg up and both his arms spread across the back of the headboard. Your toes curl upon laying eyes at his long limbs with that deceiving baby face.

“That was your original plan when you showed up, no? Might as well go through with it.”

You take a deep breath and walk into his room, back into the garter set of the photo you had unintentionally sent him.

He sweeps over you in one movement. He is suddenly ravenous, and you are exactly what he needs to fill his appetite.

“Turn around,” he states.

You do so. He follows the length of the stockings up your thighs, the barely-there thong that opens up with little heart encasing your skin around the side, front and back. Then the frilly top that leaves nothing up to the imagination as they cling onto your skin in one thin strap.

“Come here,” is his next command.

You approach the edge of his bed, then crawl up towards where he has lounged.

“Sit.” He can barely manage the singular word. You had said you were not a vixen before, but that is all he can envision right now. He pats the spot.

Seeing where his hand rests, you lift it and place it on your body. The heat it emanates travels directly to your core. You then sit where you want, and feel a twitch beneath where you have placed your body. This time, he does not push you away when you weave your fingers into his hair and give him a deep kiss. Your tongue sweeps teasingly along the plump lips you had been eyeing earlier that evening, darting in and out without truly meeting his.

He throbs against your thigh. His hands travel from your back to your waist and finally up to your breasts. He takes one of your nipples between his fingers and gives it a light squeeze. He feels you hum at his movements. Traveling to a soft spot in your neck, he suckles it gently all while rubbing the hardening bud.

“Let me hear you say it again,” he whispers between a nip on your earlobe and leaving a wet trail to the top of your breasts. He slips lower on his back, creating a wider cradle in which you rest within his lap.

You adjust yourself, sucking his full bottom lip. “Daddy,” you sigh. This time the twitch is aggressive and you know that there is a growing wet spot where you sit. You sit up with a small groan as he cups your entire breast in a hand. He brings his lips to it and he suckles on your nipple this time. His tongue brushes against the sensitive skin. One hand trails down your abdomen and brushes against your folds. He presses a thumb that easily slides between to your bud.

“Oh, you are so wet.” The sentence comes out as a breathy erotic moan. “Daddy will take care of you tonight.”

Lifting you off him, he slides out of his pajamas before crouching above your figure. He shares another heated kiss, all the while tugging at the laces that hold your outfit together. Your nails dig and leave red markings down his forearms and back, while you bite back a growing moan and heated drop in your body.

“Tell me what you need,” he exhales.

You close your eyes as his tip presses against your pelvis. Reaching, you take his member into your hands and begin to tug at it. You bring yourself to meet him, then begin coating yourself over the entirety of his shaft. When his body spasms above yours, you circle his tip with your thumb and rub it against your clit.

His breathing increases until it becomes a staggered sob. You feel him tightening and he grunts. Taking him to you again, you draw his face towards you, opening his mouth with a swipe of your tongue. He battles against your tongue with his own all the while you increase the speed at which you continue to roll your wrist along his length.

He shakes again violently, and you know he is at the start of his climb. The growl fills the room when you grab him and deny him of is orgasm. He bites into your lip, drawing the iron taste of blood.

“That’s for last time,” you say, the feeling of pain barely registered above the sensation of pleasure.

“Let’s call it even now,” he says. He loops a finger through one of the cutout hearts of your bottoms and the buttons holding it together separate with a pop. He presses gentle kisses on the soft part of your abdomen, then the squishy part of your pelvis, drawing closer to the middle of your thighs, and all the while leading up to your drenched core.

You cannot do anything else but writhe and moan beneath his tongue.

“You should wear that more often. In different colours. Different styles like a babydoll.” The vibrations along his lips only drive you closer to the edge. He latches onto your clit and continues to drink in the sounds that come out from your mouth. “Such naughty sounds from such a pretty mouth,” he rumbles. You yelp when he pinches your nipple with a force, and that animalistic noise has him drawing back up to you.

Your own hunger is overwhelmed when you taste yourself in the harsh kiss he has given. He lines himself up and begins to thrust deeply into you; his fingers dipping into your mouth as you begin to suck. Crude incoherent growls arise from him, his pace not slowing. His fingers leave so that he can reposition himself and watch as he enters and exits you each time. There is only the sound of heavy breathing from the both of you and finally.

You bring your hips to meet his at the same time that he releases himself all over you. You follow only seconds later, the orgasm so intense that for a moment you are knocked breathless. You then feel his soft tremoring kisses on your forehead, your nose and finally a long one on your lips.

“I really need to watch what I send you,” you whisper. In the dim light of the room, you see a large grin as he presses his forehead against yours.

....

The first rule in one-night stands is that you are to never fall for the person. Boundaries are to be set up and these boundaries are not meant to be crossed. Yet throughout the next day, you find yourself hurtling towards the other side of these boundaries at a dangerous momentum.

There had been more love-making sessions that you would like to care to admit. It just hadn’t seemed right to send you home without first having some breakfast. Then you couldn’t because your phone was not finished charging. By then it had been lunch. It is the day of the Gala anyways so why don’t you just stay and he’ll have somebody swing by your place to pick up your outfit?

You had never known Seokjin to be particularly sweet, with his no nonsense attitude and extremely picky choices as your supervisor. Yet when he had placed a meticulously curated meal before you, you had to admit that he is an extremely good cook who also happened to remember your food choices from the times you had shared lunches together.

No breakfast meats as too much salt straight off the bat made your stomach complain. You hated citrus, so he opted out of that when making salmon for lunch. He had made some homemade pesto pasta instead, knowing that you had often inquired of if green was actually healthier than the usual red or white. He made sure you were fed, kept warm and content.

There had been a brief few hours of the day when he had to be in his home office to take some calls. But that had not been a problem. You had retired back into the guest room to take some much needed sleep, after not having had much the previous night. Then he had joined you in bed when the call was over.

He was also such a different lover when neither of you were intoxicated.

“The Gala is in three hours. Perhaps we should start to get dressed,” he whispers into your hair.

You straddle him, your head on his wide chest and one leg intertwined between his. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and nip at jaw. “Too early. Another hour,” you murmur, your hand already stroking his half hard cock.

The laugh rumbles like an impending thunderstorm. Seokjin had never anticipated how much he enjoyed having another presence in this large, empty void he occasionally called home. He had often felt a sense of dread leaving the office building knowing that he would be away from people and back alone for the next few hours until he could return to work. He liked the feeling of warmth having you in his arms; having somebody to enjoy his cooking; having somebody to share the mundane tasks of everyday life.

He has to make an effort to remove you from him despite the yearning as aftereffects of your teasing. Brushing your hair away from your eyes, he places a delicate kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I might not need three, but from our dry run I’ll suggest that you utilize all the time you have,” he says.

You roll over onto your stomach all the while watching as he stands up, previous sheets sliding past his lean torso and revealing him in his entirety. He nearly hops back into bed when he meets your dilated pupils filled with carnal hunger. “I’m going to take a shower,” he says with finality.

Groaning loudly to complain at him for leaving a cold pocket of air in the once warm sheets, you flip back onto your back. You grope blindly at the bedside tables until you find one of his shirts to cover yourself with. Your body shivers when your feet hits the icy floors. You pad over to where you had left your phone charging near the kitchen table and turn it on for the first time since it had died last night.

Your heart does a triple flip when you see the amount of missed calls and texts from Taehyung. Shit.

He picks up on the third ring.

“Taehyung,” you gush immediately.

He sounds tired when he answers. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see this until now; my phone had died last night.”

“That’s okay,” he clips the words.

“A-Are you okay?” you return the question. “You said you had something important to talk to me about.” He is not talking to you like he normally does, and that worries you. Something had definitely happened.

“I did. But it’s resolved now. Where were you last night?”

You know that he is genuinely upset at something, whether that something be that you had left him alone for dinner, so you cannot even lie at your whereabouts. You begin to chew at your fingernails as you tell him, “Seokjin called me last night. It was an emergency; he needed me to help him with something. But he’s okay now. And guess what, Tae? He offered me a permanent job! Looks like I’m sticking around just a little bit longer.”

“Huh,” he says. He remains distracted and distant on the call. “Fei is calling me right now. We can talk later.”

“I’ll be at the Silver Gala with Seokjin. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Right. That’s tonight. Have fun.”

“Okay, bye, Tae. Tomorrow, I promise.”

You are met with the end tone of the call. You wince when you hit a sensitive part of your nail bed.

...

There is barely enough time for you to breathe, let alone think about the situation between you and Taehyung, and you and Seokjin.

You are wrapped up in the whirlwind event of the Silver Gala. It passes without a hitch. You act like the perfect arm candy of young playboy (?) worldwide handsome CEO of DailyHive. Despite all the warnings, you are however unprepared to face the hurricane of comments that arise from the night’s events.

Junho had planned for a few reporters to comment on Seokjin’s plain-Jane date. He did not expect the paparazzi to dig into anything deeper and start rumours about the mysterious woman by the side of Kim Seokjin. He did not expect to see blurry photos of the two of them playing golf at his birthday party a week prior.

Nobody expected you to be named his girlfriend.

You hate the attention that it brings. In particular, you hate the whispers from all the coworkers and the stares whenever you enter into the office alone. Just a few days ago, you had walked in on a particularly distasteful conversation in the lunchroom.

“Why would he take her of all people?” you hear someone whisper, oblivious to the fact that you are walking down the hall towards then.

“She tried to fuck my boyfriend.” This voice you do recognize as Fei’s.

“Really? Did you hear she’s got a job offer here? Do you think she’s trying to sleep her way up? You’d better keep an eye out on Taehyung then.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let that slut run her way through here. Not again.”

That last sentence had been said straight to your face. You knew Fei hated you. You just couldn’t be bothered anymore.

You have not spoken to Seokjin since the articles have been released and instead partake in your meals on the roof where not a single soul dares to go in fear of the unrelenting summer sun.

Despite it all, you cannot help but feel a little sorry for him. You were a nobody, and so the dirt that the tabloids had dug up were really quite more like dustballs compared to the information about Seokjin. You know it must be hard for him to have his life scrutinized 24/7. It cannot be easy to have every single action picked apart for some sort of deeper meaning. That daily stress can make even the nicest person a bratty annoying SOB.

It still sucks that you’re a part of it though.

These are the thoughts that occupy your mind and make you unaware of the argument that has unfolded in the conference room.

Having always been looking for your faults, she did not falter when presented with the opportunity to use you as a scapegoat.

“This is extremely unfair. She’s just an intern and she should not have a say in decisions like these,” Fei says, her voice raising, “She’s going to be gone next week anyways.

Your attention snaps up towards them. A few minutes ago, Seokjin had asked for your opinion regarding DailyHive’s upcoming year development plan. You want to correct her in saying that it’s technically the week after that. Additionally, there is the fact that you would return after.

Seokjin sits a little straighter in his chair. “I don’t understand what Y/N has got to do with any of this. The issue I have is with your – ”

Fei does not let him finish. “You’re being prejudiced because the two of you are dating.”

The whole room watches this encounter with their breaths on hold. Taehyung lifts his gaze from his silent spot across from you.

At once, the two of you stand and shout, “No.” and “Oh my god, you’ve got it wrong!’ simultaneously.

Flustered, you begin to explain yourself. It is one to ignore your co-worker’s comments and the nuisance of the tabloids, but you at least wanted to clear any misunderstanding with Seokjin,

“He and I aren’t dating. We’re strictly in a boss and intern level relationship.” Seokjin follows this with, “Exactly. Besides, I’d be doing her and her family a favour if we were.”

This shuts you up.

“She’s old, first of all. She’d be lucky to have a younger, handsome man by her side. Secondly, it’s not like her family’s made of gold. If we were to date, I’d clearly be the one paying for everything. And imagine if we were to eventually become married! She could never afford so anything on her measly salary. Everything would definitely be coming out of my pocket.”

All the words tumble out even as his mind desperately pumps the brakes.

“I’m above that.”

There is silence in the room following the outburst. More eyes are on you than he, and they continue to watch you as you slowly rise from your seat.

“Above that?” you mutter, turning your back to the room after firmly closing your laptop to place in your bag. You hear the sound of the scraping of a chair from somewhere behind.

“She’s just an intern.”

You zip your bag, your fingers shaking with the effort to not big the whole damn thing up to throw it across the table. When you turn around, you see that Taehyung has risen from his seat while Seokjin has sat back down on his own.

“Excuse me,” you say, your voice wobbling, “Might I remind you that she is right here, and she thinks you’re a total jackass, Mr. Kim.” His name hisses from between your teeth like a whistle. “You may have money. You may own a big fancy house with expensive furniture and a whole array of million dollar pieces in your closet. But you are not above me.”

He does not meet your harsh glare.

“You know what? This entire company sucks. I might just be an intern, but I still believe that I should be treated with the same level of respect and courtesy given to any as basic human rights. So screw you. And while I’m at this? Screw you too, Fei. You suck the most. Good fucking riddance to everyone.”

...

You have been wandering the streets, still very much annoyed and heated from your outburst. You have ignored Taehyung’s calls and even Jimin’s who strangely knew to call you.

So now you are jobless (or very likely jobless). And even though you want to feel and live off the anger, the emotion that overwhelms you the most is your guilt. Because you know everything he had said about you is right.

What if you had just tried harder?

He is above you.

Would your life still be this miserable?

God, why had you ever thought that maybe he cared.

You only wanted a simple life. Was that too much to ask for?

Fate played you like a doll with your one act role as Cinderella that night.

You are a nobody.

You plop down at a park bench, blocks away from the office. And you had been so close to finishing that contract too.

Add that to your growing list of failures.

You might as well begin job searching again because you highly doubt that job offer still stands.

Your phone buzzes again with an incoming call.

“I didn’t think you still cared, Tae,” you say without even looking when picking up.

“Jesus, Y/N,” there is obvious relief in his voice, “I thought something had happened you. You’ve been gone for two hours already. And why wouldn’t I care about you?”

“Does it matter? Just pack my things for me. I’ll pick them up from you some time this weekend,” you say. The reality of your actions have finally settled, and the reality is truly devastating.

“Come back. Fei was out of line there. I don’t think even Mr. Kim would let something like that slide.”

You want to tell him that Fei is not the true problem, but you are too tired to make that correction. Instead, you say, “I’m old. I’m also tragically single. And you know what? I haven’t told you this but the flat I live at isn’t even truly mine. My parents are the one paying for it because the best thing I could afford was being roommates with some college kid who I’m sure sold drugs on the side. I think I needed a reality check. It was a harsh one, but if I don’t start achieving something of my own soon. I don’t know.

I’ll be worthless.”

You close your eyes.

“I’m fine. Thanks for checking up on me, Tae,” you say at last, doing your best to sound perkier, “If you’re talking with Jimin apologize on my behalf. I don’t think I will be the next Zuckerberg. He can continue having his information stolen from Facebook instead of me.”

Staring at the blank screen of you phone, you have hung up before you can listen to another attempt at consolation. A big fat droplet of water splashes and smears over your screen. It lights up.

I saw you on the Internet! Are you really dating the CEO of DailyHive?? BTW, this is Kiko!!

You huff.

Another droplet of water falls, hitting your face this time.

As if life couldn’t get any shittier, there is a sudden onset of rain. The sun quickly disappears behind the clouds.

You had wanted a movie. Life gave you a mockery of Cinderella, and now your classic drenched k-drama protagonist in the rain. Hey, Controller of Destiny, would it be too much right now to ask for the male lead to swoop in with an umbrella?

“You look like a drenched rat,” you hear a voice say. His voice sounds distant and muffled.

Looking up, you see a stranger holding an umbrella over your head. In his other hand, he holds out a phone currently connected to a call.

“Seokjin?” you ask into the open.

“You could have picked a further place to run to if you really were trying to run away,” he says over speakerphone. “Come into the car. Your health benefits don’t exactly kick in until later.”

Following Seokjin’s chauffeur to the black limousine parked only a minute’s walk at the park’s entrance to which you had been sitting at, you muse at the turn of events. Even a k-drama metaphor is apparently too good for you.

Seokjin hands you a handkerchief when you finally sit down beside him. “It probably wasn’t in any of our best interest that I said all of those things,” he mutters quietly.

You raise an eyebrow and say with a tilt of your lips, “Huh, you think? Was it also too much work to just come and offer me an umbrella yourself?” You work to dry your rain-soaked hair, but end up looking more and more like a wet dog.

He wrinkles his nose in distaste. “This is a very expensive suit, you know? It shouldn’t really get wet.”

Sighing, you turn to him. “Are you here for a particular reason or should I just get back out into the rain. I’m probably also drenching these leather seats.”

He contemplates something and then reaches into his breast pocket. He hands over a small box to you. It weighs in your palm like a paperweight.

“Is this your version of an apology?”

He snorts. “As if. I’m just saying – and purely stating a fact here – that it probably wouldn’t be that bad if somebody were to date you. You’re somewhat pleasing to the eye; you’re mostly hardworking and you can be useful to have around.”

He does not add that last night, he had dreamt he was that somebody.

“Also,” the next words take a while to form on his lips, “I’m regretful of the things I said earlier at the office.”

You cannot help but feel a smile tug upon hearing the strange words that are coming out of his mouth.

“God help us all if that’s what you think an apology is.”

“Open it.”

You sigh and unravel the string. In the center of the packing is a golf ball, with your initials monogrammed onto it.

“What’s this?” you ask.

He clears his throat. “I had Yerin run the paperwork so we can get started with your onboarding. I saw that today is your birthday.”

“I didn’t know you cared so much about your interns, Kim Seokjin,” you say. The smile refuses to leave your face as you turn the golf ball around in your hands.

“Fine. I saw Taehyung leave something on your desk this morning,” he finally admits.

“We’ll work on your apology. But okay. Consider your regret noted at this moment.”

He gestures to the chauffeur to start the car. From outside the vehicle, the rain dissipates. Once again, there is warmth in the air and a glow from the sun as it emerges from behind the clouds.

“Um, Seokjin. The office is the other way. You might need to hire a new chauffeur,” you say. Your shared office building grows smaller in the distance.

The scene begins to fade like the epilogue of a movie.

Seokjin leans back in his seat and closes his eyes. “I know. I just thought, screw the company. Let’s go play a real game of golf.”

You lean back, holding the golf ball close in your lap.

Maybe, your 29+1 might not be so bad after all.

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