#am i supposed to walk into a place and ask an employee???? is that acceptable??? the idea of doing that is horrendously scary

[mawklee]

literally how do I get a job I feel so fucking stupid bc I keep checking websites but I barely get anywhere bc everywhere needs at least 1 year of experience and I have never worked a day in my life so what the fuck seriously how do I do this

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Once Upon a Time 4

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Andy Barber

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your morning begins lazily. You're not used to functioning without a sense of urgency but it's nice. You take your time having your coffee and nibbling on toast in front of the television. You finally find the motivation to get dressed just after eleven, intent on hitting the country store before you let another day off fade into oblivion. You've been saying you'd go for months and it always turns into 'just don't have the energy.'

You take the train downtown then find a bus to the edge of the city, just a ten-minute walk from the country store. The commute alone is an hour, the temperature dipping even lower without the shield of the urban sprawl. You shiver as you finally reach your destination, like a warrior cresting the drawbridge of a mythical castle.

Inside, there's a cozy atmosphere. The smell of cedar wafts through the air as you marvel at the vast expanse before you. As you browse the signs denoting the contents of each aisle, you set off towards the wool section, hoping to finally teach yourself to knit. Just before the confection area, there's a small table set up and woman greets you before you can reach the crafts. She offers you a sample of chestnut cocoa. Sounds interesting, but somewhat unappetizing. The chill in your bones cozens you to the promise of liquid warmth.

You blow over the top of the cup, smiling awkwardly at the employee. The store is somewhat bustling but that area seems to be a bit dead. You taste it and give a wobbly hum. Not bad, actually. You'll at least be able to finish it.

"Oh, it's good," you say.

"If you would like to buy some, you can take a coupon," the woman offers.

"Oh, sure," you accept out of kinship for your fellow retail worker. You take a coupon and thank her again.

"What's this?" A voice has you quickly stepping out of the way as the rattle of a cart rolls close.

"Good afternoon, sir," the woman puts on her best chime, "would you like to try a sample of our hot chocolate?"

"Hm, I guess," the man drones and you freeze in the spot. No way.

You keep your head down as you sidle away but hit the cart parked behind you with your hip. You apologise without looking up but your name reels you back. You cringe at the store and go rigid, slowly turning on your heel to face Andy.

"Oh, hi," your voice piques, "what are you doing here?"

"Shopping," he says as if it should be obvious. He pauses and accepts the small cup from the lady at the booth. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"

He tweaks his brow and you look away guiltily, "uh, yeah, actually, I... switched shifts with Chelsea so... yeah."

"Wow, that's... interesting," he says, "well, interesting seeing you all the way out here."

"Yeah, very," you agree, almost genuinely. What are the odds?

"My friend recommended the place," he sniffs the hot chocolate but doesn't drink, "you come here a lot?"

You bounce on your feet impatiently. You glance over at the employee awkwardly watching the interaction. You've been there before.

"First time," you answer, "anyway, I... I'm just gonna keep going," you look at the worker, "I don't want to clog up the area." You wave a palm at Andy awkwardly, "nice running into you."

"You too," he returns quietly.

You swallow and back away. This is so weird. Coincidences happen, sure, but it's not like this place is a Target. You clutch your cup tight as you walk away, keeping your eyes forward as a shudder stays trapped in your ribcage. Something's just not right. Or maybe you're thinking too much.

You veer down the aisle of yarn and blow out the breath caught in your chest. You stop amid the various shades of pinks and purples and peer down into the cup. Your stomach is churning violently and you don't think it's the drink.

You try to shake off the encounter and linger amidst the needles and threads. You wander down the next aisle and browse the paints. You're not very artistic but you could probably manage a paint-by-number. You click your tongue and continue on without purchase. You're not sure you want to waste the money.

You end up near the checkout at the rack of handmade sweaters. You like the patchwork on the one, even if it reminds you of a 90s sitcom. You slowly turn the rack as you weigh the value of the sweater. You peek up and see Andy just on the otherside as he rolls his cart by. Before you can dodge his look in your direction, he waves. You have to wave back but quickly go back to searching the rack.

You take the off the bar and dally by the card stand, waiting until you see Andy leave before head up to checkout. You toss your empty cup in the bin at the corner of the counter. You go to the till and pay, taking your time as you dread the walk to the bus.

You accept your bag and receipt and zip up your coat on your way out the door. You check your phone for the bus times. You'll have to move fast to catch the next one or wait an hour for the one after that. You hurry past the parking lot, head down against the cold, and head up along the unpaved path parallel to the road.

As you get to the stop, you tuck your hands in your sleeves and face the road, peering longingly down it. You didn't see the bus drive by so you should be on time. You chatter as you hear gravel mulching in the other direction. There's a honk as the car slows and you grimace as you watch it take a U-turn and come up on your side. You wobble on your legs as the window rolls down.

"Cold out," Andy calls over the empty passenger's seat, "need a ride?"

You shake your head, "no, it's fine. I got other places to go."

"I don't mind. I figure since I'm out here."

"Really, I can't accept," you offer a vacant smile, "thanks, though."

"It's really not safe for you to be out here--"

"The bus is on its way," you argue, a bit more terse than you mean to.

"I know, I'm trying to be nice."

"It is nice, okay? But I don't want a ride."

He idles there, quiet, waiting. You have nothing else to say so you once more look down the road. He sniffs and grips the headrest on the passenger's seat.

"Why not?"

Your smile falls away completely as you look at him. Something about his expression adds to the frigid chill. You wet your dry lips and sway.

“To be honest, I don't take rides with strangers.”

“Well, I'm not a stranger,” he puffs out.

You shrug and shake your head, ��I said no thank you.”

“Right, got it,” he huffs, “see ya, I guess.”

He rolls up the window as you stare at your boots. He drives away, swerving to reverse direction once more. You flinch as the gravel mulches and wait until the hum of his engine dissipates.

His last words echo, as much a threat as a promise.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 21: Welcome Back

2 years later

Kimber wasn’t the only one who suffered from the battle. Campbell took a shot. Left his leg useless. Witnesses said a blonde woman did it. But that’s all behind us now. Small Heath has grown into my heart as a new home. Unfortunately the calling to my old home wasn’t weak enough to stop me from tying up loose ends. A few months after the whole Kimber dual I decided to take a quick trip back home to Brooklyn. The Shelbys were disappointed to see me leave, especially Finn. But I assured them I would be back in a few weeks’ time. 

Sadly time did not agree to my plan. The instant I arrived back home I discovered my stay was going to exceed far beyond what I’d hoped. Mother contracted tuberculosis and since my brothers were called away on ‘private business’ I was obligated to stay and nurse her back to health. For the next half a year I received multiple letters from the Shelbys asking about my return. After a while I simply replied that only God can answer for me.

And God must have heard my prayers because lo and behold after what seemed like a whole century mother finally recovered. I thank the angels a million times and counting for her good health. My parents are reluctant towards my decision to return to Birmingham but the mention of an official job persuaded them. No words were said about what type of business I’m working for. One packed trunk and one boat ticket later I’m right back to where I’d been lost two years ago.

Nothing seems to have changed. Small Heath is still the same gloomy and dusty crime heap as it was when I arrived last time. The sight of the familiar Shelby household makes my heart soar. But my excitement is crushed the minute I enter the home. No lights are on. A dreary atmosphere has draped over the house and is dead silent. Where is everyone? According to Thomas�� letters their business has been thriving. Where else would they be?

“Hello?” I poke my head into the kitchen. 

Still no one. I set my suitcase down and move to the back door. Where on Earth-?

“Who’s there?” a gruff voice asks sharply. I know that voice.

“Is that any way to treat a visitor?” I accuse lightly and open the door. “Thomas Shelby. It’s good to once again be of service.”

Same handsome smile. Same piercing blue eyes. As usual he’s dressed to the nines in a fine black suit. But this seems slightly fancier than usual.

“Hello, love.” He offers a hand and we shake. “‘S good to see your smile light up this place.”

I get straight to the point. “What happened? Why the dress-up?”

Thomas hangs his head and pulls out a cigarette. “Freddie’s dead. Pestilence.”

Dear Lord. Another death. Poor Ada, she was so happy with him.

I give a heavy sigh. “Why is it whenever I’m around the shadow of death follows me? I am so sorry. How’s Ada been?”

He takes a puff and a halo of smoke clouds his face. “She’s taking it fine, actually. Says she’s free now.”

“Acceptance is a vital stage of grief.”

He gives a small hum and passes me to walk into the kitchen. “How’s things in America?”

I guess that discussion is closed. “Much better now that my mother’s well. Though I wish I could say the same for my in-laws in Germany. They had to move back to the Netherlands since the economy’s been so run down.”

Thomas, as usual, reaches for a whiskey bottle I’ve brought. “I heard Prohibition is in full swing.”

I groan. “Don’t remind me. Father’s been taking a hit and we finally convinced him to open a speakeasy.”

He takes a drink and hums in approval. “‘S good to have you back.”

It’s sad to see Thomas hasn’t lost his gruff personality. If anything he’s just as cold as before. I suppose all hope of having a relationship higher than being his employee has withered in these long two years. But at least his heart has been given time to mend.

I haven’t seen Grace around in America… Though maybe that’s because as soon as I got home I had my brothers send out a warning to our contacts to keep her away from Brooklyn. In America we stand by loyalty and never forget.

“We’re expanding to London,” Thomas continues and I follow him towards the Bull Ring.

“Yes, your last letter hinted at that. Congratulations.”

“Congratulations can wait. The Garrison’s just been attacked.”

Seems that the Shelby’s lives are still violent as ever.

“Another mystery for Thomas Shelby to solve. Mind if I help?”

Thomas opens the door to let me through, then takes a drag from his cigarette and smirks. “It’d be a waste of a trip if you didn’t. Although some of us are still surprised you’ve held on this long.”

Shelby Company Limited is now officially on the door. There’s also new hired help. A few new bookkeepers and secretaries. But no familiar faces. 

“You can go catch up with the others while I go see to a lead,” Thomas says and gestures to the back office.

“Where are the others? Where’s Polly?”

“She and John are in the back. Better let her know you’re here or she’ll have my head. Finn too. They’ve missed you.” He pauses and seems to think over his next words. “We’ve all missed you.”

A warm smile creeps onto my face. “‘S good to feel wanted. I’m glad to be back.” I point to the new sign. “You’ve got your name on the door now.”

He nods. “‘S my office.” 

I raise a brow and tilt my head respectfully. “Impressive. It suits you.”

He opens the door and I stride in, literally walking into a conversation between Polly and John. Both of them haven’t noticed me yet. What I do see is that Finn has hidden himself under the table, trying to be part of the conversation. Sneaky lad.

“Six. Six questions since you’ve walked through that door,” the Romanian woman says. “Soon you’ll have to start being the man with the answers.”

“Why?” John asks.

Polly frowns. “Seven. Because when London happens you’ll have to hold up your end. Or we’ll find someone else who can.”

“He can do it,” I say, determined.

Both their heads whip around to spot me in the doorway. Beneath the table Finn’s eyes go wide and Polly breaks into a wide grin.

“Verena, love! Good to see you!” Polly rushes over and pulls me into a hug. “You made it over ok?”

“Yes yes, it was a dull trip.” I catch my breath from her death-like grip and smile at the young Shelby. “My goodness! Look at you! Finn, you grew like a weed! Might I say a fine young gentleman!”

Finn, wearing a sheepish smile, stands up from under the table. He holds out a hand and we both shake. “You talked with Thomas?”

“Briefly. He still as stubborn as before?”

Finn rolls his eyes. “Don’t remind me. Since you’re back now, does that mean…?”

I cannot stop smiling today! “Yes, Finn. I can set aside time for some more lessons. I thought you’d be sick of them  by now.”

He gawks at my words. “No way! I’ve missed them.”

Oh. I didn’t think they meant this much. But I suppose since his brothers have been so busy with the London expansion then Finn might get looked over now and then.

“Patience, Finn. I’m sure Verena’s tired from her travels.” Polly ushers him away and gestures for me to follow her out. “You have no idea what it’s been like to be the mother hen around here. Thanks so much for coming back. How’s your mum?”

“She’s recovered and hasn’t let it slow her down,” I answer. “And now my brother Abel-”

But a John pulls Polly over and I’m left alone. Um, good to be back? I guess I can wait in the kitchen until someone gives me further instructions. Patience, Verena. It’s been two long years. These people don’t need me busting in with catch-up chit chat. 

“Ugh.”

There’s no mistaking that grunt. Thomas must be back from his lead. I poke my head out and see my guess is correct. The gangster seems angered by something.

“You’re upset,” I observe, wanting an explanation.

Thomas grunts again and puffs on a cigarette. “Best for you to stay out of it.”

Oh. So much for clear communication. “Thank you for taking your anger somewhere else. Can I help with anything?”

“Apparently I’m the chosen one. Some Irish scum tried to shake me up.”

Irish. Possibly IRA. Uncle Colon would have told me if he was sending any contacts.

“You gonna call a family meeting?” A bit of my Brooklyn slang slips.

Thomas cracks a small smile at my accent. “Bingo. Would you mind making biscuits to go along with it? You have no idea how hard it’s been without them.”

I mock-curtesy and Thomas goes on to enter his office. “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Shelby. When should I tell them to expect you?”

He gets to his desk and turns around. “Don’t bother with that. I’ll show up when I show up.”

Same old Thomas. God has graced his family with prosperity. Still I suppose time hasn’t been too kind on his heart for him to act so brash. So where do I come in?

Good to know the kitchen hasn't changed. How appropriate. My place remains doing what women do best: keeping house. Soon enough I mix up some dough for biscuits and bake the first batch just as Finn walks through for the family meeting.

“John and Arthur are on their way. You can join too.”

Word must travel fast. I quickly throw the hot cookies onto a plate and follow Finn into the back office. Finn begins pacing beside where Polly is standing. There are a few more standing in the back but I can’t put my finger on their names. Esme waits on the staircase, while the rest of the Shelby brothers are in front.

“Sit down, Finn,” Arthur instructs.

Finn obeys but is still antsy.

 “Where the bloody Hell is Tommy?” John asks impatiently.

“He’s on his way,” Polly answers sternly.

Arthur thinks for a moment and then stands up to fetch a wooden crate. “Well while we’re waiting so patiently.” He sets the crate on the table. “Whiskey.”

Now I step closer into the room to make my presence known, holding one of father’s bottles.

“If you’re looking for whiskey, might I suggest the Steenstra brand?” Both brothers look up and I give them a wave. “John, Arthur. You’re looking well.”

Behind their stern frowns their eyes lighten up and they each offer a quick hug.

“Good to have you back, Steenstra.” Arthur gladly takes the bottle and offers me a glass. “You still don’t drink, eh?”

“Only for special occasions.”

“And being reunited with the Peaky Blinders isn’t one?” Arthur replies. “Come on, Steenstra. Have a drink!”

I can’t help but give into his hospitality. “Very well.”

John passes over the glass with a small frown. “You’ve got some catching up to do.”

“She’s forgiven, John. She made biscuits!”

John’s attitude immediately changes and he pulls over the plate I’ve brought. Finn joins in on drinking as well but I keep my mouth shut. I settle down next to him just as John gets up to address us.

“Before Tommy gets here I think there’s a few things we need to get straight between the rest of us.”

Polly scoffs. “You think?”

John nods. “Yeah. I want to know�� when did we all take a vote on this expansion south?”

This doesn’t sound right. “You mean the move to London wasn’t a group decision?”

Esme speaks up. “Should she be here?” 

She gives John a look and he mulls over the idea. “Um, maybe-”

“Shut it,” Finn interrupts sharply. “Verena’s the one who taught me to think, not you. She stays.”

John looks at the floor and nods. “Right then. Now, I see all the books. Shelby Company Limited has been making 150 pounds a day. Sometimes more. Why are we changing things?”

Finn considers this with a serious expression. I’m glad to see my teachings about economics haven’t gone wasted. John and Polly bicker some more and Esme tries to butt in. If only someone would tell me about what the Hell is going on then maybe I could do something besides make biscuits.

Just then Thomas walks in and the arguing stops.

“Everyone’s allowed to speak. On your feet, Esme. Let’s hear what you have to say.”

She stands up from her place on the stairs but John begins before she can speak.

“I speak for our household. So-”

Thomas won’t have it. “John, this is a modern enterprise that believes in equal rights for women. On your feet, Esme.”

My, Thomas has changed. He’s allowing more outside opinions. Women’s ones, at that. In some places back home it’s like pulling teeth to even win a conversation against a man about what shoe polish is better. But I know better. Grace left a bigger mark on him that he’ll care to admit.

Esme takes a breath and sets her jaw straight. “‘M not a bloody member of this family, but perhaps that can allow me to see things in a different light. I have kin in Shepherd's Bush and Portobello. It’s more like wars between armies down there. I want to raise my child somewhere with no violence.” She glares defiantly at Thomas. “London is just smoke and trouble, Thomas. That’s all I have to say.”

“That was a lot of words.”

Arthur offers a glass. “Wash ‘em down with a drink.”

Thomas nods in response. “Thank you, Esme. Firstly, the bang in the pub had nothing to do with London. Understood? That is something I’m dealing with on my own. Secondly, we have nothing to fear from the proposed business expansion so long as we stick together.” He gestures to where I’m sitting. “Our dear ally and friend Verena is joining us for this, so we will have strength in numbers. After the first few weeks, nine-tenths of what we do in London will be legal. The other tenth is in good hands. Isn’t that right, Arthur?”

His brother nods. “That’s right.”

“Some of you in this room have discussed your reservations,” Thomas addresses. “Fair enough. If any of you don’t want no part in the future of this company, walk out the door. Right now. For those of you with ambition, expansion begins tomorrow.”

John’s itching to say something but remains silent. Polly still looks torn about the matter but Arthur seems fine with it and celebrates with another drink. Finn rubs his head and soon both he and Thomas are looking at me expectantly. The answer is obvious.

“I just traveled thousands of miles to get back to work. I’m not backing out now.”

Finn lets out a sigh of relief and his older brother slowly claps. Family or not, I’ve just dug myself deeper into this crazy world.

“Welcome back, Ms. Steenstra.”

[breezy141]

BOSS || LEON S. KENNEDY

THIS IS A SHORT ONE

summary: you are in charge of everyone who gets put on certain jobs.

warning: n/a

authors note: hehehe

“are you serious? i don’t want to do it with them. we don’t get along” you looked at your guy with a full stare.

“well, in life we deal with them things don’t we? do you want the job? if not leave my building and do not think of coming back. okay?” smiling at the pissed off employee, he took the folder out of your hand and walked away.

sighing you waited for your best agent yet, leon s. kennedy, it was time for a new mission for him. his objective was to save the presidents daughter who some how disappeared.

“yes ma’am?” that familiar voice made its way into your office. you looked up, smiling at the sight infront of you, he was wearing a smart black vest and black trousers, complimented by some trainers and a watch. you frowned at his outfit.

“why are you wearing that in an office like this?” you asked with curiousness, sure he looked beautiful in it; as always but it was extremely unprofessional.

“i was running some errands and i got the call last minute” you accepted the excuse and moved on.

“okay, and don’t be so formal leon” you said with a sly smirk, you walked around your desk and leant against it infront of leon.

he smiled at you “here is your file, name is ashley graham, i’m positive you know who she is. the rest of the information in on that folder, it’s a search and rescue. it’s just yourself this time, try and keep on the low but i know you so, take your gun and all that” he nodded.

“thank you darling” he took the file and placed it on the desk behind you.

“shouldn’t you be getting ready agent kennedy?” you said placing your arms around his neck, resting them on this shoulders.

“could be, but i’m not. i wanna spend time with my lady” he placed his hands on your waist, giving them a squeeze. “you do have a couple days; your organisation skills are terrible so i suppose i need to get everything ready for you. don’t i?” you asked, kissing his neck after.

“im going to say that i’ll do it myself but i don’t believe i’ll do that” he laughed. he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, you pulled away and placed your forehead on his.

“you look tired, rough day?” he said with concern. “yup, people always have something to say” you said removing your arms and and resting them on the table behind you. “well, good news. i am cooking tonight, so when you get home you will have a lovely meal when you get home”

throwing yourself at him, he laughed and placed his arms around you “oh my godd, leon thank you” he smiled and kissed your forehead.

“of course angel”

____

live laugh love leon.

[alphaheeler]

Montgomery Gator X Reader Fanfic

Part 1 - New Job!

You opened your eyes, and a notification from your phone appeared. As much as you want to go back to sleep, you were forced to grab your phone and respond to the text you recieved. You saw the notification was from your friend Vanessa. She's a tall blonde woman who has been friends with you since high school.

"Y/N! let's meet each other in the park and grab some coffee"

Vanessa texted. You texted back saying that you'll come at around 10 am. You swing your legs out of the bed, ate breakfast, and showered. around 20 minutes later you were getting ready, choosing the perfect outfit for your hangout with Vanessa. you heard another notification saying

"I'm here at the park, are you getting readu?"

"ready*"

you texted back

"Yeah, i'm coming. Just let me put on some clothes first"

You put on your outfit, grabbed your bag full of your stuff and left your apartment. You see the park where Vanessa invited you to meet her as you stroll along the sidewalk. When you entered the park, you noticed Vanessa sitting down and using her phone. When you approached Vanessa, she jumped a little.

"Y/N! I'm so glad to see you!"

"What's up Vanessa? glad to see you too."

"Come on! let's go get some coffee, i found a cafe near here" Vanessa said.

Vanessa grabbed your arm and lead you to the cafe she was talking about. you were chatting with Vanessa along the way and before you knew it you were infront of the cafe. It looked pretty cozy and nice, the smell of coffee from the cafe was really good too. Vanessa went inside and you followed. Vanessa also insisted that she would pay for the two of you, despite your insistence that you would just pay for your own coffee. You quickly found a spot for the two of you to sit down and sat. Vanessa's pretty talkative, she'd talk about everything she has in her mind. She was talking about how she got her job as a nightguard in the Pizzaplex a few months ago, and complaining about how much work it is as a nightguard.

"I literally have to walk everywhere and checking the animatronics is just really tiring. We're supposed to have like 5-7 nightguards but since nobody wants the job i gotta do it alone." Vanessa groaned

Suddenly her eyes lit up

"HEY!! WHY DON'T YOU BE MY PARTNER? i mean you have been trying to find a job for months right? why don't you come and work in the pizzaplex with me? come on, i'm sure you won't mind. plus the place is really cool and there's so much amazing things that you should check out. Plus, being an employee there is great, you can make your own pizza FOR FREE!!"

You thought about it for a bit but since you're really tight in money and need to pay your rent, you accepted Vanessa's offer.

"Meh, alright then. How hard could it be?"

"OH MY GOD! Thank you so much Y/N! you're the best! i'll talk to the owner aight? and then i'll tell you when thr interview is! okay?"

"Sweet, thanks Vanessa."

"No no! thank YOU Y/N!"

A few hours later you finished hanging out with Vanessa and head straight to your apartment. You changed your outfit to your pajamas and watched TV. as soon as you noticed that your eyes were getting heavy, you had fallen asleep. When you first awoke, you took a glance around. You were on your couch.

"Ah right, i fell asleep"

You got up, stretched, and made coffee. You heard a recognizable just as you were ready to take a sip. You immediately recognized the ringing as coming from your phone and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Y/N! It's Vanessa, you can meet him today!!"

"What? meet who? what's going on?"

"You know, the job! in Pizzaplex!"

you quickly remembered about it and asked Vanessa what time you're gonna meet him, she said it was 1 pm. You sighed, thanked Vanessa, and hung up. you still have a lot of time concidering it's still 9 am in the morning. Soon after, it was about 1 pm, and you were getting ready to visit him. you put on your best outfit with a light brown trench coat, black baggy jeans, and a white shirt. You visited Pizzaplex and spoke with the manager. The interview went really well and surprisingly, you were given the job. You quickly went to your apartment and lay down on your bed. The manager said that you'll start at monday, and you thought to yourself

"How hard can this job be?"

[wordsfrommyuniverse]

A Shocker

Hey, it’s been a while. I think it’s been a year since I wrote in here. Life update: I am now employed. I also moved in with my girlfriend. And things are starting to get a little bit better. And if you’re wondering how that happened, it’s because of this - I just started to ride how life glides. With me being employed, it isn’t actually in my plan. I was supposed to take my master’s degree but at that time when I have fully decided, most universities aren’t open for enrollment yet. So, I took a rest for about two months. My girlfriend at that time was applying for a job and the COO of this company asked about her love life. Apparently, they talked about me and what I do - editing photos and pubmats when I was in college. Long story short, the COO requested if I want to be a graphics designer, I said yes, and here I am now - making layouts, pubmats, doing shoots and videos for a hotel. I took it like it was just like a pastime. Like, “Oh, great. I don’t have something to do at the moment, why not accept the offer.” Now, it is a commitment. I am now a regular employee, and my salary is pretty decent, I believe, if only I learn how to control my expenses. Also, I was almost got scammed. That would be another story. It’ll just keep this entry long. Yeah, i just kept going with how life wants me to live like. I remember travelling into another island alone, I don’t know what to ride and where to go. Thanks to Google Maps for making me survive that shit but dang, I started acting like I was from that place. The way my legs just started walking in a direction I am not even sure, it is weird. Everything ended up well, though. I was there, by the way, to pick up the camera my brother got me. Also, I admit that I don’t know how to cook. And I just cooked spaghetti. I fucking acted like I know how to do it. I only just have this mini-instructions at the back of the packaging of the sauce, and I went with it. And it turned out well. Listen, my point here is that you don’t have to force things. You don’t have to it pressure on it. Sometimes, it’s the universe that adjusts for you and it just gives you the satisfaction that you wanted. I got employed because I took a job offer out of boredom. I successfully travelled into another island and just let my legs and Google Maps bring me somewhere. I successfully cooked spaghetti just because of a bit-sized instructions and just started cooking without any knowledge. Sometimes, you just gotta try.

[kn1ght-writing]

New Employee

Desc: my elsen ocs, keep in mind that this was before the Batter purified the zones

Ace pulled a chair closer to the table as he grabbed a box of mail, placing it on the floor, and began to sort it out quickly, the mail was due soon, he had a bad habit of putting all his work last minute, so he didn't complain, he still had a few other boxes to sort out on his own since the last coworker that helped him had gone burnt, to which Ace didn't mind working on his own, but it would be nice to have someone to talk to. Ace then heard a pair of footsteps walk into the office he was working at and turned to look at the direction of the footsteps. There stood an elsen, waving at Ace, “Hi Vince! what's up?” Ace asked as he placed the mail that he was holding on to the table, “I'm just here to see if you needed any help.” Vince asked as he looked at the boxes on the table and the box on the floor. “You know what, I'm not going to lie to you. I need some help.” Ace accepted the help. “How much do you have left?” Vince asked as he opened a box, pulling out some mail. Ace stood for a moment. “All of them.” he admitted shamefully. “What? All of this is due today!” Vince replied as he looked at Ace. “I may have just left everything for last minute.” Ace explained as he raised a finger, feeling anxious for the next response. Vince furrowed his eyebrows at his response and took a deep breath. “Okay Okay, I'll help you, but we got to sort these out quick!” Vince replied as he immediately began sorting out the mail. Ace did his work too. “Got any plans after work?” Ace asked as he placed some mail into the box. “Eh I don't know, probably go get a drink, wanna come with me?” Vince asked. “Yeah! And can we play cards too? I haven't played in a while, want to do something with them other than shuffle them.” Ace smiled as he pulled out his pack of cards from his pocket. “Where'd you get that from?” Vince asked. “Oh I got this from that cool merchant at the shopping center.” Ace explained. “Zacharie?” Vince answered, Ace nodded, “Yeah the guy with the tattoos on his arms, he's kind of cute.” Ace replied as he got carried away. “Eh he's alright, I think his stuff is overpriced, but business is business, I guess, but hey! back to work! Don't need you falling in love when we have all this crap to do!” Vince teased as he snapped his fingers playfully, Ace couldn't help but laugh. Just then, the two heard a pair of footsteps coming near, and they pretended to be working so they don't get in trouble by whoever is walking near. Vince turned to look, and there was an elsen standing there twiddling his thumbs, “Hey there! can I help you?” Vince spoke out. “I'm here to fill in the spot for the last employee that worked here, I got told that I start today.” The elsen explained. Vince got up and pat Ace's back, “Looks like you got a new friend.” Vince pointed out with a grin. “So what's your name?” Vince asked. “I am 1261.” The elsen replied with a serious expression, “Well do you have a name for yourself? like your own name? like my name is Vince, and this guys name is Ace!” Vince explained as he placed a hand on the new elsens shoulder, 1261 took time to examine the scar that traveled from Vince's elbow to wrist. “I'm assuming you want to know what happened.” Vince blurted out with a smile as he stretched out his arm to show his scar. The elsen nodded in agreement.”Back when I used to work in the mines, there was a burnt and I didn't have my pickaxe with me so I had to fight him with my fists but he scratched me! Anyways, do you have a name for yourself?” Vince asked again. “Oh no, I don't. What am I supposed to do?” the elsen asked as he just wanted to get his work over with. “Weeeelllllllll, you are stuck with me sorting out mail if you want to get started now.” Ace explained with a smile ear to ear. “Yeah, okay.” 1261 replied as he opened a box full of mail. “Hey I got a question. Are you okay with hugs?” Ace asked. “Yeah I am okay with that.” 1261 replied. “Okay good, ‘cause I like giving hugs.” Ace replied as he pulled the new elsen for a hug tightly. 1261 hugged back.

[zoe-oneesama]

I'm interested in the Lila exposed au about your akumasona. What's that?

For those who don’t know my OC (self insert) akumasona Zoe Rapporte (The Enchanted Florist), but her family owns a flower shop that is pretty successful - think “This florist does the arrangements at the Grand Paris and for High Profile Events” - so she’s mildly acquainted with Adrien from some of those events. Maybe not friends, but like when you frequent a coffee shop so much that you learn all the staff’s name and they all remember you.

So Lila is not above dropping lots of money to sell her lies (hello Gabriel Collection Fox Necklace) and one of her lies to her mother is that Adrien is her boyfriend. And what boyfriend doesn’t send his lovely girlfriend flowers, especially one as well off as Adrien Agreste? And really, as long as his name is on the card when her mother accepts them at the door, that’s all that matters, right?

So Zoe takes note that once a week this prissy girl with a bizarre hairstyle comes in to place a rather pricey bouquet order under Adrien’s name and has it delivered to the same address that’s on the credit card bill - doesn’t take a genius to figure out this delusional weirdo is pretending a celebrity is sending her flowers weekly. It’s a little strange because Zoe could’ve sworn she saw on TV that this chick had done photo shoots with Adrien before and based on his Instagram she was his classmate, so it’s kinda concerning that she’s going this far to burrow her way into his life. Still, she’s dropping quite a bit of coin and it’s really none of Zoe’s business, yeah?

But then imagine there’s a class event - maybe a dance, maybe a teacher’s appreciation week, maybe an alumni reunion - that needs our favorite class representative and her deputy to order a large amount of flowers. And Adrien, ever desperate to do his part, takes it upon himself to help with the budget. And maybe Nino decides to come for no particular reason lol.

So the four walk into the Rapporte Flower Shop and Adrien is so excited to introduce his friends to one of the familiar faces from his VIP world. And he’s just so exuberant as he brags about his friends and is so wholesome and different from the put together boy Zoe would briefly meet at those stuffy events that this surge of sisterly affection makes her completely forget her usual “none of my business” attitude. She’s got to let him know what it going on behind his back, especially if there’s a chance that he has no idea what kind of girl “Mlle. Rossi at the fifth story walk up” was.

And who knows? Maybe this was a misunderstanding, a weird arrangement Adrien had with his secret girlfriend to make sure she gets exactly the type of bouquet she wants? Zoe recons she’s had stranger requests. Welp, no better way to clear the air than to just ask.

“Hey Adrien, you know there’s this weird girl that comes in once a week and has flowers delivered to herself under your name?”

Adrien paused in his rant about Nino’s music mixing skills (having already left Alya puffing her chest in pride and Marinette a red puddle of embarrassed goo) to stare blankly at Zoe. “I beg your pardon?”

“Oh yeah.” Zoe leaned into her palm, looking way too relaxed considering what she’d just dropped on him. “For, like, the two months at least. Always has us address her card ‘Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder, Ma Belle, from Your Loving Boyfriend Adrien Agreste’.”

“What the heck?!” Alya exclaimed from beside Nino who’s jaw was dropped in disbelief. “That’s crazy messed up. Adrien doesn’t even have a girlfriend, what does this psycho think she’s doing?!”

“Right? I don’t know who she thinks she fooling. What kind of boyfriend needs to sign his full name?”

“It is pretty weird.” Adrien said, rubbing his neck in discomfort. “But it’s not the strangest thing a fan has done. It’s not that big a deal, right?”

“Dude.” Nino started, staring at his best friend in mild horror. “Just because you don’t know this girl doesn’t make it ‘no big deal’.”

“Oh no.” Zoe pipes up again. “He knows her.”

“What?!” All of Adrien’s friend’s exclaimed. Even Adrien looked a bit shook by her admission.

Alya zipped over to the counter, leaning dangerously close to Zoe’s remarkably unfazed face. “What do you mean ‘he knows her’?! How do you know that?! This sounds like a creepy fangirl but you’re telling me she’s actually in Adrien’s life?!”

“I should say so. I mean, it was even on TV that she was modeling with Adrien and she’s made a few appearances on his instagram.” Zoe brought out her phone, casually thumbing open Instagram. “I would’ve just ignored it, but if she’s going around pretending she’s dating Adrien then he has the right to know.”

“Modeling with....and you said on his instagram...?”

“Are...” Marinette piped up, voice dripping with trepidation. “Are you talking about Lila?”

“Marinette,” Alya gave her friend a withering look. “Just because you don’t like her doesn’t mean you can just accuse her of-”

Zoe cut her off, flashing her phone screen at the group to present a photo, having found the image she was looking for: a brunette with a straight fringe and her forelocks in twin tails leaning possessively over an uncomfortably smiling Adrien.

“Yes, Mlle. Rossi! I’d recognize that crazy hairstyle anywhere.” She turned the phone back to look at it herself. “Pft, Adrien, what’s with this caption? ‘Lila insisted I take post this picture?’ Yikes, man, learn to say no.”

Alya waved her hands in front of her, eyes scrunched closed in disbelief. “Hold up, hold up, hold up. You have GOT to be getting this twisted. Lila wouldn’t do something that like this, that’s just...wrong!”

“I mean, this is definitely the girl I was talking about.” Zoe said slowly, raising one eyebrow at Alya’s response. “And Rossi is the name on the bill. What exactly am I ‘getting twisted?’“

“Because!..Because Lila just wouldn’t!”

“Yeah!” Nino shouted from behind her, shaking himself out of the stupor this whole situation left him in. “She said she wasn’t into Adrien like that!”

Zoe snorted. “And you believed her?”

“W-well yeah, why would she lie about that...?”

“You guys are so cute. And definitely need to watch more True Crime shows.”

“What-?”

“Sorry Adrien.” Zoe lofted over Alya’s shoulder, cutting off another defensive quip. “I know she was your friend. I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“Ah, no, she’s not really- I mean, I’m not that surprised to be honest.” Adrien offered weakly.

“It sounds right up her alley.” Marinette growled, fingers digging into her crossed arms.

“What...” Nino and Alya turned to their friends, confused and anxious. “What are you talking about? This..this is Lila we’re talking about!”

“The same Lila who got Marinette expelled?” Adrien stated, face grim and tired.

“That was rescinded, it wasn’t her fault-”

“The same Lila who sent everyone in Adrien’s contact list picture of her kissing Adrien?” Marinette ground out, aggravated.

“I mean, that was weird, but I’m sure she didn’t mean-”

“The same Lila who got my bodyguard and Natalie in trouble with my dad?”

“Or maybe the same Lila who stole Adrien’s dad’s book and threw it in the trash?”

“She did WHAT-?!”

“I-I fished it out for you!”

“Wait is that how you knew about Lila-”

“Wow.” Zoe whistled, again cutting the group off. “What a class act. Sounds like a great friend you got there, Adrien.”

“Oh trust me.” Adrien growled, eyes never leaving Marinette who steadfastedly refused to look at him. “After this we’re NOT friends.”

Alya held her head with one hand, staring at the ground. “Wait, wait, this...this can’t be right, Lila isn’t...she wouldn’t do this, she wouldn’t, she’s...cool! And nice! And-! She just can’t!”

Zoe cocked her head toward’s Alya, leveling her with a patient stare. “Well, then what is she doing?” Alya looked up blankly at her, prompting her further. “The truth of the matter is that Lila Rossi comes in once a week, and has been for at least two months, buying flowers to be delivered to her own address (which I know because it matches up to the address on the card with her last name on it), but dictates that the card say it was sent by Adrien. If she’s not faking that Adrien is sending her flowers, what is she doing?”

“I...I don’t...” Alya floundered. They were just supposed to order some flowers, how did the day turn like this?!

“You’re an investigative reporter, right? What’s that old Sherlock Holmes saying? ‘Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth’?”

Alya leaned into Nino, staring out at the shop, searching for something to make some sense. She thought Lila was nice, was her friend, was everyone’s friend! But this stunt with Adrien...what does it even mean...?

Everyone looked towards the employee door as footsteps could be heard approaching. A moment later Tama, Zoe’s younger sister, stepped into the shop, pausing at the door when she realized five pairs of eyes were staring at her. She looked over the customers, taking in Marinette’s slight glower, Adrien’s tight jaw, and Nino and Alya’s devastated posture.

“Soooo, are you here to buy some bouquets?”

[ventisehe]

crying on their wedding day / genshin impact / part one

this was a request from my old account and i am only transferring it here. there is a part two to this but i got busy with school and organizing my new account, as well as thinking over deleting my old account.

since bennett is fifteen or sixteen, his part will be a little different from the others. with aether, he is hundred years old so his part if just like the rest. this is unedited and i wrote it at night when i was supposed to be farming so please bear with me hehe.

requested by: @bakuhoe-is-my-bakubro

includes: diluc, zhongli, childe/tartaglia, aether, bennett

warning: unedited, not proofread

part two

THOSE WHO WOULD SHED A SINGLE TEAR

     DILUC

       After losing his father and his horrible fall out with Kaeya, Diluc has become a firm believer that a man can truly live as an island, to some extent. As much as possible, he kept to himself and worked alone. Having people share his burdens with him did not appeal to him. In fact, it miffed him, as it made him feel indebted to them.

          He limited his interaction with everyone, especially those who are part of the Knights of Favonius, favoring solitude above else. But of course, this did not entail bad social ethics to others.

    He treated his maids and employees with civility and respect, the same can be said with his patrons whenever he worked behind the counter (it would certainly be bad for his business if he behaved aloof to them) and those he was once close friends with. He always behaved appropriately to them, although he must admit he can be quite insulting to the Knight, he always stood behind an invisible barrier, careful not to cross it and grow attached to anyone.

        He has long given up with amorous relationships. After all, what good would he be as a lover if he could not provide his woman the love and care she deserved? Surely, he cannot let a maiden suffer with his inadequacy as a potential husband. He is aware of how hectic his schedule is (he hardly has enough time for himself so spending time with his lover would be proven difficult) and how poorly he expresses his feelings, thoughts, and emotions. In a relationship, in marriage, communication is the key for it to be successful, and already then, he has failed. He may be a cold man at first glance, but he will not put a woman in s distressing dilemma, not intentionally anyway.

                    Being the richest man in Mondstadt and being considered attractive by many, Diluc was not foreign to having women throw themselves at him, attempting to seduce him. If maintaining a relationship with a woman with his current tribulations was hard, finding a woman who truly love and understand him was even harder. He has no means of deciphering who were pure with their intentions and those who sought him for his money and influence.

     And he accepted his fate without easily, without question. This was the way it was supposed to be in the first place. Diluc Ragnvindr - a lone man, who lived in too big mansion, sleeping on a bed too big for him. It was all he knew. The bright days of his childhood long forgotten.

    But then you came to his life so suddenly.

                          "Master Diluc," Began Jean, a polite smile over her lips. "This is ( Your Name )".

              All it took was for you to give him shy smile to have his walls broken down, and for his heart to yearn for what he has resolutely denied himself of for years. And it twisted him, and not in a way he welcomed.

          Diluc tried so damn hard to push you away. He avoided your presence, and made it his point to show you he wanted nothing to do with you, and made no attempt to cover it and ignored how his heart broke every time your smile fell. He resolutely refused to yield to your sincere advances.

                                     He treated you the same way be treated everyone, to show you how you were no different from everyone. You were just another dot in his life waiting to be erased and thrown in the back of his mind.

                                                       But the harder he pushed, the harder you pulled. In his brightest days and in his darkest days, you have never strayed far and welcomed him with open arms. You always went out of your way for him.

          It was hard not to fall in love with you? Why did you have to make things so difficult?

                        It wasn't too long until he was falling asleep in his bed with you in his embrace, his heart feeling light, warm and content. He hasn't feel like this in a long time - safe, and at home. Diluc found home from someone he tried to push away.

                                      The horror of what could have happened if he had been successful weighed down on him, and it took quite an assurance from you to make him remember that he has failed, and you were his, as he was yours.

                          Back then, he thought your persistence was bothersome. But as he stood at the altar right now, watching you enter with your white wedding dress, he was grateful you never gave up on him.

Diluc cannot describe how beautiful you looked as you graced everyone in the place with your presence.

Your eyes locked with him, and his heart soared in his chest. And when you smiled at him, an excited gleam in your eyes - he cannot help but smile back.

Time cannot be any slower, and the aisle cannot be any longer. And have you always walked this slow? Or were you just teasing him?

Diluc's breath hitched - Perhaps you knew how much he wanted to get this over with so he can have you all to himself in the comfort of his room.

And when he saw you smiling mischievously at him, he knew that he was right.

His words failed to describe how beautiful you looked. His words failed the joy he was feeling. May Barbatos have mercy on him

But the tear that escaped the corner of his eye explained everything.

"Oh, what is this?" His best man whispered beside him, a teasing tone lacing his voice. "Master Diluc is crying. Why, I never thought I'd see the day."

Diluc shot him a glare. "Do not make me regret making you my best man, Kaeya."

Kaeya laughed. "Ah, ah, ah," He chimed. "Your wife won't be pleased if we fight at your wedding day."

A warm and pleasant feeling coursed through him. His wife.

"She's not my wife yet." Said Diluc.

Kaeya looked at you as you walked down the aisle. "And in just a few minutes, I'll have two Ragnvindr to annoy." He patted his brother on the back, smiling a genuine smile for the first time. "Congratulations, Diluc."

     ZHONGLI

       Zhongli, or Rex Lapis for that time, has watched over Teyvat for thousands of years and has witnessed firsthand how kings and tyrants rose and fell, how kingdoms were born, how camaraderie are conducted, how romance makes a man foolish and blinded, how society flourished in the hands of mortals as Archons guarded them from their resting place, and throughout the tales of humans, his eyes has laid upon many beauties.

                   But you? Oh, even the most esteemed bard of all realms could never bring the satisfactory glory to your name and pulchritude.

            How dearly Zhongli missed the unspeakable power, money and authority he had back before he revoked his own position as a deity, keeping a close eye over Liyue and his people. But if ever presented with the opportunity to return to his rightful place as part of the Seven, he shall graciously decline, casting his gaze away and simply returning to your side.

                               After all, what benefit would he gain from it when he already has his heart is content in the possession of a mere mortal, a mortal he loved and adored. He would dream of ever choosing his old power over you, and that can be affirmed when he asked for your hand as the two of you took an evening stroll outside Liyue.

                 He has fallen for you and he cannot rise again. A gentle and kind woman with an understanding and patience which knows no bounds. If not for his revelation that he has accomplished all his duties and has come to decide to resign from his reign, your existence may be another reason for him to take the form or a mortal and ask for your hand.

                      He can still recall that faithful day when he first met you at the harbor. He stood by a high balcony, overlooking Liyue Harbor with arms crossed. The sun beat down against Liyue grounds and his skin, but it also casted an ethereal glow on you as you exited one of the ships that stopoed at the docks. And may he boldly say the sun was outshined that day, and his heart has been taken.

                                         Zhongli can only imagine how many men has chased after you, but failed to woo you.

                   Zhongli understood the concept of love. After all, Liyue and every living being that sought shelter in its walls were close to his heart, but never in his life has he felt the way he felt for you. It was the sort of phenomena he observed between lovers for centuries - unconditional love and care, a sanctuary in the arms of their beloved, an individual to trust and come home to whether the day has been kind or unkind.

           What he thought were trivial matters and the means of mortals for survival he has tasted its sweet flavor, and it was by your hand did he receive it. And he was thankful that you have found him worthy of being with you, and soon, being one with him in the contract of marriage.

And thus came the faithful day, the very day he longed to come ever since you have accepted him as your husband to be, and the day you have dreamt of every night you laid with him.

Zhongli counted the months, weeks, days, and if he had the ability to, minutes until the day of your wedding. He has a calendar in his room and everyday, he enthusiastically crossed out every passing day, watching as his wedding with you grow closer.

And when it finally arrived, Zhongli followed a meticulous routine to prepare himself, using expensive oils and perfume to which the Fatui money has provided splendidly. After all, he wanted to look the best he can for you. You deserved only the best of things, and he shall not hold back on anything to please you.

Though Zhongli, most of the time, was a calm man even under the eye of tribulations, when he stood at the altar in front of his close friends and colleagues, he can't help but feel anxious.

Of course he has no doubt in your love for him. He holds on your every word of love and affection as true, and his love for you was as hard as stone. Rather, it was he who doubted himself and his capabilities.

He wondered if he would be able to take care of you, love you the way you should be, bring a smile to your lips, and a laugh out of your mouth. If he had been Rex Lapis still, he would have easily uphold his duties as your husband. After all, what can an Archon not do?

It would be Childe, his best man, who would console him. He would tell Zhongli he is more than capable to care for you. He has a stable job (not to mention his connection with the Fatui), he was eager to please you and give you about everything if he can, he has a kind heart, he was a man who can manage his time wisely and never choose his profession over you, and above all, he loved you. Not many men can afford the luxury of being this perfect, but Zhongli was no man, not originally at least.

He will be unconvinced of what Childe has said. This unease in him was hard to diminish. Not being enough for you will tear him apart. The thought of it just gnawed at him. Will he make you happy? Will you regret marrying him when you realized life married to him wasn't as you expected?

It was only when the doors opened, and his wide and anticipative eyes darted over to the other end of the place did every little doubt in his mind is erased.

You stood by the entrance wearing the white dress you have fought hard not to show him until this day.

That bright smile on your face, those eyes that shimmered at the sight of him, the faint red on your cheeks - Zhongli did not even notice how love stricken he looked, and nor did he notice a tear cascade from corner of eye.

It was only when Childe stifled a laugh and pointed it out did he feel the dampness at the side of his face.

He forgot how to breathe when you finally stood before him. Even a veil cannot conceal your beauty.

With twinkling eyes, you smiled at him - like he was the only person in the room.

"Are you crying?" You ask playfully.

Zhongli will let out a chuckle, and as he take your hands in his, he said, "In such a beautiful day like this with the loveliest lady in Teyvat before me, how can I not?"

Indeed it was a beautiful day, made better when your lips met his.

He can't stop a few more tears from slipping.

THOSE WHO WOULD BAWL THEIR EYES OUT

     CHILDE/TARTAGLIA

                 Childe understood his duties as a Harbinger even if his playful and flirtatious facade may say otherwise. He kissed hands of women and paid them golden compliments until their mind went hazy with his feigned affection, but he was still a Fatui at the end of the day - a ruthless and greedy scoundrel who had too much Mora in his hands.

              And it was because of his line of work that he decided never to commit himself. If he was to find himself infatuated with a woman and she reciprocated his feelings and desired to pursue a relationship with him, it would inevitably drag her to the dangers entailed to his position.

                                       The last thing he wanted was someone to dear to him to be harmed, not to mention his lover could become his weakness, she could be taken by his enemies and be used against him, thus, making things more complicated and harder for him to fulfill his duties to the Tsaritsa.

             To him, nothing is more important than seeing through his mission with the finest quality of work he can give.

                   So damn you for coming into his life and distracting him. Damn you for bringing another bright to his life. Damn you for taking care of his family when he was gone. Just - damn you for making him fall for you.

      He hated this - the feeling of being weak, of being vulnerable, of laying his guard down. One touch from you and he's no better than the people he despised for being so frail and powerless.

                                              How ever do you possess this prowess to make him so dependent on you, to relish in your voice when you sing to him as the two of you laid together in his bed, how he let his defenses crumble when you whisper his name, the tug of his heart when you he sees you getting along so well with his family.

                          Childe wanted you. He wanted you more than anything and anyone in Teyvat. He was going crazy thinking about you.

             He refused to acknowledge his feelings at first, thinking perhaps he can use you to comfort him and his family in these troubling times. That's all you were supposed to be, a tool for him to make his family feel better whenever he goes off to accomplish his work as a Harbinger.

                              But he couldn't stomach the thought of using you like that. He didn't want you to treat like a toy. And it did not help that one day, when he was returning from a mission, you come rushing to him and blurting out your feelings and your worry for his safety.

               You loved him. Did he hear you right? You love a Fatui, and a Harbinger, no less. Surely, you aren't that stupid to fall for him.

     And yet he smiled a sincere smile at your confession, and he too followed your steps. That night, he was at his weakest. Just relishing in your arms and ridding all the responsibilities over his shoulders. He can forget all his faults for a moment, with you. A peace of mind and heart was found in you.

     Childe watched as you played with his fingers, and then he spoke. “Aren’t you afraid?”

       You hummed. “Afraid? Of what?”

                   Childe shook his head and held your hand which toyed with his digits. You looked up at him, puzzled.

              “Of me.” Said Childe, pulling your hand and holding it close to his chest. He closed his eyes, almost terrified of what your answer can be. “Of what I can bring to your life. I’m a Harbinger, [ Your Name ]. Your life is at stake just being with me. Do you know what you’re in for for loving me?”

                        You gazed at him, and he can’t see anything in your eyes. He let out a small gasp when you leaned in and kissed his cheek.

            “I’m not afraid of you or anything this world can throw at me.” You confessed. “You’re going to protect me, Tartaglia. I know you will. I trust you. I love you.”

                            And fucking hell, did he protect you.

                                          He tried to hide you from his fellow Harbingers, and especially to his enemies. Not because they will use you to get the upper hand against him, a leverage. No, he wanted to hide you, as long as he can anyway (because it won't be long until his secret is out, walls do have ears), to protect you. No one will lay a hand or even get a single strand of your hair. May the Archons have mercy on anyone who dares put you in the middle of the dangers of his job, because he surely won't.

Because of this, you and Childe decided to get married in secret, with no one else but Zhongli, the traveler, and their floating companion to be your witnesses in becoming one. The two of you knew well of the consequences your decision shall birth, but it's the one you're making. Nothing in this can stop Childe from making you his wife, and treating you as such.

Childe could not wait for the ceremony to begin. Even with such a small crowd - very small indeed - he did not hold back to make this day special for you. The finest of everything is what you deserved, and if he could give more, he would. But for now, all he can give you is himself, and he dearly wished he was enough.

The whole time, as he waited for you to emerge from the doors of the small cathedral the two of you chose to be wed in, he kept imagining how his life would be like with you.

Waking up beside you was the thing he looked forward to the most. When the sunrays peeked from closed curtains and cascaded down your slumbering form, a gentle and even breaths leaving your lips, a soft expression of rest - the thought of it filled his heart with warmth, a kind of warmth only you can evoke from him.

Waking up at your side on his bed always reminded him thst you were indeed there, and his. Soon, he'll be waking up beside you with a soft smile on his lips, a reminder that you were there, but now as his wife.

Childe never really considered him emotional. It was part of his discipline as a Harbinger never to let his emotions get the better of him. But when you stepped into the cathedral wearing the wedding dress you personally chose and had hidden from him for so long, a veil over your face but the soft smile still just as bright as the morning sun, it all came crashing down to him.

Childe wanted a lot of things in life. But what he wanted the most was to spend the rest of his life with you - providing for you, protecting you, comforting you, falling deeper in love with your every single day. All this he will do until his dying breath, and he knew you'd do the same.

His dream was walking towards him, never taking her eye off him as she approached the altar.

He can hear Paimon clapping and the Traveler reprimanding her for being a little too loud. He can hear Zhongli saying something to him but he couldn't understand a word he said. But he was too lost in his realization that you're going to marry him.

You chose him, a man with too many faults and imperfections.

Just as you arrived at the small steps leading towards the altar, the tears Childe has been trying to hold back streamed down his face, small hiccups escaping his lips.

You stared at him, worried. "Tartaglia, are you alright?"

Childe would try to formulate an answer but through his tears and hiccups, he couldn't make a single comprehensible word. His posture was regal and proper, as though he was trying to fool everyone that he wasn't crying.

How can you ask if he was alright? How can his heart handle how beautiful you looked right now?

"Excuse me, ( Your Name )," Zhongli interjected as he stepped beside Childe. "It seems that your soon to be husband needs a moment to collect himself. Please, excuse us."

Zhongli led Childe back to his room, and the Harbinger did not fight back. He was still crying even when the doors has closed behind him. Zhongli stood by the door, watching the Fatui sit on his bed, trying to stop himself from bawling.

Childe can feel guilt crawling up to him as he realized what he had done. What was supposed to the most perfect day, your most perfect day, was ruined because of him.

He was scared to think what you thought of him now. Were you resenting him for what happened? Did you still wish to marry him?

If only he had controlled his emotions much better. He shouldn't have let his joy break through him in tears.

"She was crying too, you know," Spoke Zhongli.

Childe raised his head to look at the former Archon. "Huh?"

"Your bride, she - " He smiled at him. " - she was crying too. She's happy to be marrying you."

Childe can feel his heart hammering against his chest in delight at what he said.

"So don't keep her waiting."

Childe bawled his eyes out once more when the words - "I do," - left your lips.

     AETHER

                 When his sister was taken from him, Aether was a lost and wandering soul in Teyvat with the sole purpose of finding her.

              Throughout his journey, he met different people from different regions. He learned their values and cultures, he grew to love the world he used to be a stranger to, he was able to utilize different sorts of Visions, and yet, despite all of this, Aether was lonely. Paimon - bless her pure soul - tried her best to keep his spirits and bring a smile to his face (he assumed she too felt the hollowness inside of him) but it was all futile as he often find himself seeking solitude and gazing out in an open field wondering where his twin could be and how she was fairing on her own.

                He will let the cool breeze comfort him, but all it left was a searing kiss of reality that his search might have been all for naught. That very concept his mind was conjured haunted him in his every waking days. Is he still journeying through Teyvat and reaching out to all Archons with a solid purpose? Was he no wasting his time looking high and low for someone who could not be looking at the sky as he?

                     "And what if she is?"

                                     Your words is what got his attention. Aether met you in the evening when the stars and the moon was absent from the skies. He sat on a fallen log overlooking the city of Mondstadt, alone and cold. Paimon has insisted in him accompanying him, but he had snuck away before she can chase after him. He needed to be alone with his thoughts, and with the scarce time he has for himself, he has to make the most of every night that comes.

                 Lumine was in his mind, and worry was gnashing its teeth at him. He was deep in his own world, sinking to the hands of his tragic thoughts, that he did not hear footsteps trekking the hillock he was at. Nor did he realize he was speaking his own worries in the air, eyes distant and staring blankly at nothing.

       "What if she's not even looking for me?" That's what he remembered saying that time.

                                       Then you made your presence known with an answer that refuted his initial thought. He whirled his head to the side, wide eyes with surprise. You stood next to him with a faint smile, hands behind your back and the moon slowly peeking from the shroud of clouds. A light in the darkness, the moon was. And so you were you to him.

                "Sorry," You apologized, sheepishly giving him a smile as you rubbed the back of your neck. "I didn't mean to interrupt. You were speaking out loud and-and I just had a feeling I needed to say something." You took in a deep breath, and Aether found the pink dusting your cheeks adorable. "I . . . I'll just go now - "

              Aether didn't regret asking you to stay.

                                   Before you came to his life, Aether did not know how much he was dwelling in the own hell he made. His inner tribulations, his worries, his insecurities - he only took notice the torture he was putting on himself when you keep saving him from his own mind.

                   At first, all he thought of you was a precious friend - someone he leaned on and entrusted with everything, whether it be secrets or help with his quests. He told you about his past, his twin, how exactly he was different from the people of Teyvat, how he and sister fought an unknown god, how she slipped from his fingers when he reached out for her, how much he wanted her back. He was terrified of what you may think of him when he told you these things, but to his surprise, all you did was wrap him in your arms and comforted him.

                                      Along with Paimon, you were his dearest friend.

             But as time passed, the longer you accompany him and Paimon in his travels, he noticed something strange. The way his heart skipped a beat when you smile at him, how he can't keep his eyes off you when you laugh at one of his tales, how his heart hammered ceaselessly when you press a chaste kiss on his cheek, the relief that seeps in his system when he sees you unscathed from a battle, how irritated he becomes when someone makes an offense against you, the joy that seizes him when he listens to you talking about something you loved, and how much he adored it when you scold him for being a little too reckless in fighting.

                           Aether, despite being older than he seems, did not know what to make of what he was feeling. It was strange, a good kind of strange - the kind of feeling that makes him feel like he was floating in the sky. All he thought of it was an overwhelming adoration for a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

                  It wasn't until Paimon pointed it out did he realize what he was feeling for you.

                                           Upon learning his feelings for you, Aether couldn't sleep for many nights. He was plagued with the desires of his heart and his insecurities. It was like falling back to the same hellish pattern before you came along.

              He was in this world for one reason only - to find his twin. And when he does - and he fucking will - he will depart from here with her and continue their travels. Leaving you was the last thing he wanted. He couldn't bear the thought of it. It felt like leaving a piece of him behind in Teyvat, a hole in the shape of your name.

                            The solution he had for this is directly confessing to you. Of course, the blond was a nervous wreck when he approached you and asked for a moment of your time. Paimon knew of his plan and wandered away for the time being, wanting to give the two of your privacy.

              If you did not share the same feelings as he, he can already imagine the pain he will have to deal with, but it'll be much easier to leave. At least then he knows you won't be as hurt as he thought once he takes his leave. He never entertained the idea of you reciprocating his feelings. It would be foolish to - surely you can't find anything appealing with someone like him ; to which you rendered him speechless and a bumbling mess when you pressed your lips against his when he was in the middle of his confession.

                                 Aether shouldn't be this happy with you. He loved you too much to see you hurt when he tells you that he must leave. He was not welcome in this world, he was an outsider, a being not under the authority or influence of any Archons.

     But still, he spent months loving you, caring for you, doing anything to come back to you no matter what is thrown at him. He loved having you in his arms when you slept, he loved watching the stars with you at night, he loved you even with the inevitable arguments you two have - Aether was utterly and hopeless in love with you.

                     And thus, he decided to tell you what will happen after he finds his sister.

                      He knew he would be heart broken in seeing you cry, but it hurt more to see you smile at to him so genuinely and embraced him, saying, "You used to doubt you'll ever find your sister. It broke my heart everyday seeing you so hopeless, and I - " You composed yourself, shaking your head as your tried to gather your thoughts. " - now look at you," You cupped his cheek, the corners of your eyes wrinkling as your smile broadened. "I always knew the day will come when you have to leave me. When you told me you weren't from this world, I knew then I'll have to let go of you someday. But until that day comes - Aether - "

               What a shock it came to him when you got down on one knee and presented to him a glittering ring - there was unconditional love and hope in your eyes. It was like looking back at his reflection. "Marry me, Aether, let me make you happy for the rest of the days we still have remaining until you leave."

                                   Aether can never say no to you.

To his surprise, Master Diluc has already agreed to host your wedding at Dawn Winery. Aether was puzzled as to why he seemed unsurprised by the news of his engagement with you, and the Claymore wielding male answered, "( Your Name ) came to me for help when she planned to propose to you."

Aether knew Diluc, as much as possible, wanted to be alone. A lone wolf, he was. But with gratitude for what he has done, he asked him to be his best man. Diluc was startled by this requests but obliged. The red head might not show it but he was immensely flattered by Aether asking him to be his best now (and now time to subtly show it off to Kaeya).

At the day of the wedding, contrary to what he thought he would feel, Aether woke up with his an ache in his chest. He found himself looking out the window of his room, torn between his happiness and sorrow.

In a few hours, Aether will be able to adorn a ring on your finger, symbolizing your promises with one another. He shall be granted the sole blessing of calling your his wife. It was something he was looking forward to - seeing you in your wedding dress, watching as you walk down the aisle -

But Aether's mind kept drifting back to his sister - She would have wanted to be here. He thought.

Aether felt like he was committing a crime when he decided to take a walk just hours before his wedding. But he needed to clear his mind. Lumine never left his mind. He always thought that they would always be there for one another, or at least in big moments like this.

And yet she was still nowhere to be seen.

Is she still alive? Have I been wasting time? Is she still in danger? Is she lost in Teyvat as well?

"Didn't expect to run into you here."

His body tensed when he heard your voice, and he twirled around only to have his breath taken away.

You stood before him in the white dress he had longed to see ever since you proposed to him. He thought he would see a frown on your face, dismayed for his impromptu walk, but you wore a soft smile - a soft and understanding smile.

Aether did know what to say to you. He just stared at you, overwhelmed.

He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't say anything. His shoulders slumped, and he sighed.

You approached him and kissed his cheek. He hummed in delight, eyes closing. "I hope you're not having second thoughts on marrying me." You told him.

Aether was quick to respond. He took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. He looked into your eyes with affirming hues, "There is nothing I'm more sure of than marrying you."

You beamed at him. Seeing your face brighten up is always a beautiful sight for Aether, and it was enough for him to feel enlightened in the midst of his internal crisis.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Of course you can already tell something is bothering him. Aether shook his head. He has already ruined a small part of what is supposed to be a perfect day, he can't risk another mistake.

"I'm not going to push you to tell me anything." You stated.

Aether smiled. "Thank you." He replied. He gazed at you for a little while, taking you in. "Why are you out here anyway? And in your wedding dress too."

Your eyes widened and you looked down to assess his evaluation. "Oh Archons," You mewled. "I forgot I was wearing this." You let out a groan. "Great, now my surprise is ruined. I won't be able to see you cry when you see me walk down the aisle."

He laughed a little. "But still happy as ever to see you." He said. "So why are you outside?"

"Just . . . " You began, and Aether can detect a hint of nervousness in your voice. " . . . picking some flowers."

"I thought we already ordered flowers." Aether thought, frowning. "Did someone forget to deliver the flowers? I can call someone if - "

"No, I just wanted to pick some flowers, randomly. Like how you wanted to take a walk, randomly."

He looked at you with hesitant eyes. He didn't believe you. There was something hidden behind your motive to be out here. But like how you didn't press him with what was the problem, he did the same for you.

"Okay," He breathed out. "What flowers did you pick then?"

Aether's breath hitched when you pulled out a bundle of Windwheel Asters and several more flowers that was all too familiar with him.

He stared at the white flowers that combined with your Windwheel Asters, the very flowers that he remembered adorned his sister's hair.

"Aether? Aether are you okay?"

He stared at you with glistening eyes, his heart blossoming with adoration and gratitude. Without even meaning to, you managed to make everything alright.

"Yeah," He smiled at you. "I'm okay."

Aether thought when he stood at the altar, he would have Diluc trying to soothe his nerves as his insecurities slowly sink in his mind. But it didn't happen. Diluc merely stood by him with a relaxed expression, glancing at him every now and then.

"You don't look nervous at all." Diluc remarked.

Aether chuckled. "This is the only decision I fully know I won't regret."

Aether felt like it was his first time seeing you in your wedding dress. His heart was filled with the brim with utmost joy, but what caught his attention was the bouquet of flowers in your hands.

You told him before that you will have roses as your bouquet, but to his surprise, he can see the Windwheel Asters and the white flowers that reminded him of his sister.

His emotions was all over the place. He had no idea how he could look so calm. Somehow he managed to hold himself together until you finally stood before him.

When you stared at him behind the veil, he couldn't take it anymore. You were too perfect. How could he be so blessed with you?

Tears sprung to his eyes when you reached out to take his hands in yours. He retracted one of them to rub his arm across his eyes, wiping away the wetness that streamed to his face.

Why am I crying like a child in my wedding? Stop it!

He couldn't.

He only cried harder when you leaned forward, removed his arm from his eyes, made him look into your vibrant hues, to give a small peck on his lips - "You're okay, Aether."

     BENNETT

                 Bennett understood his bad luck more than anyone. He had lived with and through it his entire life he graced the surface of the earth. It was almost pitiful to see the boy smiling ever so brightly as misfortune after misfortune comes hurtling his way, but to him? It was an everyday and normal occurrence, nothing he hasn't seen or experienced before. His spirits has never let their roaring flame vanish, however, and if it had not been for his bad luck, everyone would have been drawn to his warm, welcoming, affable, and cheerful soul.

                                 But just because he was used to the constant array of debacle thrown his way, doesn't mean there were never days where he won't be upset over everything it brought to his life, and others as well, and wonder how long it will take until his unluckiness will lead him back to the very situation he was rescued from when he was a mere baby.

          He forgot how long it was when he had experienced something good, miraculously so. The only time he can recall being so was when he encountered the Honorary Knight, convened with them as a temporary adventure team, and found a treasure chest containing items he has only dreamed of in his sleep deep within a domain. However, that was many moons ago, and nothing has ever compared to it ever since. The moment he departed from the Honorary Knight, his bad luck came instantly to bite him.

                 It was far too long ago. Sometimes, Bennett wondered if that would be the only good thing that can happen to him in his lifetime, and thank the Archons he was wrong because the very worst day that came upon him is a day he will never exchange for another - the day he met you. When it was raining, thunder in the distance, lightning striking trees and soil, his bruised and bleeding form hardly covered under a small and flimsy tent, you graced him with your presence, and an umbrella which you used to cover both of you.

                                    He had never stopped admiring you ever since. His eyes always followed you, wide and shining. He remembered the warmth in his chest and the redness tinting his cheeks when you brought him to your abode and treated his wounds with care gentler than the Deaconess. When he told you what happened to him, he anticipated to he shoved out of the house immediately and have your front door slammed on his face, but you did not. When he warned you about his curse, telling you how you will be affected when you spend a little too much time with him, the look of fright did not cross your visage and you even insisted that he not leave your house until you were sure he was capable of moving without pain, even if you had instantly been affected by his unluckiness (you pricked your finger quite badly when you were stitching a deep wound of his. He always felt guilty for that and has not stopped offering his apologies whenever it pricks the corner of his mind).

                   Other than the team of adventurers who had saved him from peril when he was a baby, it was difficult to find someone who will stay with him, through bad times and more of it. One cannot simply imagine and comprehend the confusion and happiness that seized him when he found out you were spending more and more time with him, not out pity but because you enjoy his company (which was weird, but he'll take it).

                              You possessed no Vision, but Bennett never saw you in an inferior light. In fact, it impressed him how you can hold yourself without the aid of any power. Enemies took a little longer to eradicate but ultimately, you were always successful. He held you in high regard, and very much like a certain blond traveler, the poor boy thought it was merely friendship and respect he felt towards you. After all, wouldn't a friend accompany him in his adventures no matter what disappointing or gratifying the outcome is? Wouldn't a friend prepare meals for him before he goes off on a solo expedition? Wouldn't a friend stay up late up waiting for him to return after? Wouldn't a friend welcome him by the entrance of Mondstadt upon his arrival? Wouldn't a friend give him butterflies in his stomach? Wouldn't a friend make his heart pound in a way

                  It had taken the Traveler and his floating companion for Bennett to learn about how exactly he was feeling for you.

           He liked you, and not in the way he liked the traveler or Razor - he liked liked you.

                               When he realized about his feelings, Bennett nearly short circuit every time you go near him. His face flush a rich color of vermillion, his confident posture stripped down to a coy and uncertain stance, his eyes darted and never meeting yours for too long, a sheepish smile painted over his brims - Bennett had never felt this way before. It was foreign to him - liking someone - and it was worse for him because you were his one of his few friends (you, Razor, the Traveler and their floating friend), and having you withdraw from him if you ever learned his feelings frightened him more than any Ruin Guard could.

    He didn't bother entertaining the idea of you returning his feelings. With his bad luck, it was bound to end in a rejection, and he didn't believe he had the heart to accept the hurt that would come.

                 Bennett tried to keep his feeling a secret, he really, genuinely, did. He locked his feelings for you in a box and stowed away somewhere behind his mind. But it didn't take you too long to catch on. Bennett's theatrics wasn't as impenetrable as he originally thought because there was no other reason for you to corner him in a street in Mondstadt after he tried to avoid crossing paths with you, and admit your feelings to him.

                                  "( Your Name )," Stuttered Bennett, eyes darting to the side to avoid your eyes as he pressed his back against the wall behind him. You gazed at him, a tint of red over your cheek.

                 Archon, how are you so adorable?

                   "Uh, hi," He greeted meekly, as he rubbed the back of his head. "I-I was just about to leave for an adventure - "

                               "Bennett," You spoke, and he froze at the tone of your voice.

                   He looked at you properly, gulping. Shy eyes, shy smile, shy, shy, shy - and yet somehow, Bennett thought the worse - that you found out about his feelings and was about to turn him down.

          He almost got down on his knees and press his hands together in a praying position, head bowed, and beg to keep your friendship. It didn't matter if you did not share his feelings. You were more important than his stupid feelings. He can deal with the hurt of rejection that will soon to come, but losing you completely? Can he even come to terms with that?

                                But before he can do such humiliating display, you leaned in and pressed a kiss on his cheek,

                  It was almost too good to be true, and with someone like him, Bennett had to take a moment to comprehend what has happened. His feelings were reciprocated, opposite of what should have been considering his dilemma. How can this be? He was sure your friendship would be put to an end when you learn about what he felt for you. How did you even know that he liked you? Has he been too obvious? Surely not (he was). Perhaps you were merely toying with him, discovering his feelings and choosing to use it as a way to alleviate your boredom -

                                           Horror struck him when he processed the message behind his doubt. How could he think so little of you? Someone as sweet and kind as you would be repulsed by the intention of the actions he thought you were presenting to him. Prideful as this may sound, Bennett believed he knew you enough to know you were sincere in everything you do.

            But even if both your feelings are revealed to be mutual, the two of you agreed to wait until a certain age before forming a romantic relationship. The two of you are young and there are a lot more the world can offer outside Mondstadt. There are countless of opportunities to grow and be mature, to be able to have a set of qualities to take of one another.

                            But that didn't mean the two of you easily managed to hold back showcasing your favor for the other. Bennett will always find himself exchanging secret glances and smile with you whenever a third party joins in on your adventure. He would stick by your side in situations he think could potentially lead you to a major injury. He will attempt (and fail, unfortunately) to whip you up with something delicious when he has free time. And you did the same to him.

                  With you, there was never a time where his heart wasn't beating against his chest. He can't stop himself from bounding recklessly through his adventures whenever you accompany him, although he will still keep a close eye on you just in case something bad happens to you (but it's always him who ends up injured).

                                              But what he liked the most are the kisses the two of you share. Short, chaste, and shy - whether it be behind closed doors, when others are looking away, or when the two of you set of on an adventure.

            Bennett would lay in his bed with a smile on his face, his thundering heart preventing him from sleeping. He'll often find himself burying his face against his pillow, grinning from ear to ear.

                         This smile was different. This wasn't smile that he usually wore, the kind of smile that persevered through hardship after another. No, it was the sort of smile that was too carefree and too full of utmost joy, no worries or doubts in his heart. Everyday he always woke up to the excitement of adventure, but now, the excitement of it and seeing you once again always had him brimming with the want for the night to be over with so he can chase after his dreams with you. Chasing his dreams with you, what a life.

      His world is full of a bad luck, but he thanked the Archons for giving him someone he can depend on in the troubling waters he always he seem to drown in.

Bennett, embarrassing it may sound, often laid on his bed imagining about marrying you.

He can see himself making a fool out of himself when he gets down on one knee and propose to you. It'll be set in the most beautiful place he discovered in one of his adventure, somewhere quiet. Like maybe on top of a mountain overseeing a vast field.

Because of his bad luck, he'll try to prepare for every outcome. To be very sure everything will be saved, he made sure he created a plan B for his plan A, a plan C for his plan B, and so on, and so forth.

He can imagine himself fumbling over his words, blushing a bright red was made prominent because of his white hair, holding a bunch of hand picked flowers a little too tightly, sweat pouring from his face, his suit and hair a little ruffled -

If you say yes (spoiler alert, you will), he will most probably go haywire with shock and happiness, causing him to drop the ring down the mountain, and the two of you will spend quite some time looking for it. But in the end, you two will find it somewhere deep underground or deep underwater (to which you will ask help to retrieve) (Bennett offered to go down to get the ring but you can’t take any chances) and then you can start planning the wedding.

If Bennett had backup plans for his proposal, then expect there'll be much more backups with your wedding. He needed this day to be perfect for you, and his bad luck won't stop him from providing it for you. Even if he had to fight through horde after horde of Hilichurls (please stop him when he does, he definitely will do that for you), making you happy is his top priority.

Bennett will be extremely anxious the day before the wedding. He'll be pacing around his room, and has half a mind of running over to your place and spending the night there to reassure himself that you still want to marry him, and that you’re absolutely sure you want to spend the rest of your life with him. It will be Razor - who the Traveler spent hours teaching the basic information of the role of Best Man to - who will calm his nerves. He’ll stop Bennett from reaching your house and carry him back to his own, and giving him a lecture (he did his best) like the best man he was.

Was he having second thoughts on marrying you? No way! He will just be nervous about how the wedding will go. With his bad luck, something horrible is bound to happen.

At the day of the wedding, Bennett can imagine himself constantly seeking reassurance from his best man.

"What if I mess up?" Questions Bennett to Razor, anxious hands fiddling with his tie.

"Messing up is . . . normal." Razor will reassure him, but Bennett will shake his head.

“But it's me. When I mess up, it's always . . . catastrophic . . . ”

Bennett hoped that at least for his wedding way, everything will go smoothly. A perfect day, for you and for him. He won't embarrass you or himself. He won't forget the rings, he won't have his clothes tucked inside out, he will not spill any food or drinks on himself or on his guests, there will be no random Hilichurl attacks - none of that.

He really hoped for the Archons to spare him from his bad luck. 

He will be able to stand by the altar with confidence and a smile, waiting for you to walk down the aisle.

As Bennett is consumed with his thoughts, his eyes drew to the small table at the side of his bed and caught sight of the picture of the two of you perched on the surface. It was a picture you took with a kamera after one of his adventures. The two of you smiling happily as he showcased the loot of vegetables and wheat he gathered in numerous luxurious chests. It was good day, that picture was. He found more resources than usual. Of course, he learned from the Traveler that most of the chest they found contained treasures but hey, vegetables are better than nothing, right?

Bennett stared at your smiling face and can feel the heat creep on his cheeks as he imagined you in a pretty, white wedding dress, smiling at him so shyly and cute - oh, Archons, help him. May them have mercy on him. Of course, you always looked pretty to him - so, so pretty - but in your wedding day? Archons, he doesn't know if he can take that. It'll be too much for his big heart.

He can only imagine how your wedding will play out, but there is one thing he was sure of and that is that he will burst into tears once he laid his eyes upon you - and not the soft cry most men do in their wedding, oh, not at all like that. His heart is too big with too much love for you, and too soft to control his emotions properly.

Bennett will cry (bawl, actually), his tears of joy coming in streams, and it was loud enough for strangers to think he was grieving over a deceased loved one. He was hiccupping and sobbing, will probably be holding on to his vest tightly as if his entire lifeline depended on the pressure of how he crumpled the fabric. He hoped that in that time, Razor or the Traveler will lend him a hand and calm him down before he can ruin his own wedding.

Bennett, as he happily imagined that fateful day to come in the future (spoilers again, it will) did not feel a tear slip from the corner of his eye as he drifted off to a pleasant slumber with a beaming smile.

The boy absolutely adores you.

[harryspet]

caged bird | s.rogers, p.parker & b.barnes

[Warnings] dark!steve rogers x reader, dark!peter parker x reader, dark!bucky barnes x reader, polyamory, prison au, noncon/dubcon sex, this plot scenario is very unrealistic but oh well,  reader makes a deal so she can survive, hella manipulation, dominants/submissive, oral sex (male recieving), hella angst, shower sex, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: this is like a really f’d up situation so enjoy :):):) i also wrote this over the span of two weeks so i’m sorry if the pacing is weird and (also x2) this is nowhere near canon

In which you have to make a deal with three devils in order to survive in The Cage.

word count: 4.8k

main masterlist

Your eyelids were heavy though the bright light outside the bus was forcing you awake. Your limbs shackled to the seat, it reminded you that you had lost your freedom so quickly and that you’d probably never have a good night of sleep ever again, “How long?” Your mouth was dry, the heat from the wasteland you were driving through crept through the window. 

“Twenty minutes, princess,” Officer Rumlow looked you over for the millionth time like you were fresh meat ready for the slaughter. His perceptions weren’t far off and that’s what scared you the most. You weren’t cut out for a place like the Cage. 

A week ago you thought this place was fictional, a nightmare tale that was used to scare the new employees. It was still a nightmare but you were now living in it. You thought your heart might explode out of your chest as the facility finally came into view. Five stories of complete concrete surrounded by two, hundred-foot fences and surrounded by a barren wasteland. 

You were the only one on the bus. The Cage rarely received new inmates due to the nature of crimes that the prison was built for. Vigilantes and government traitors. Many used to consider them heroes but they were unregulated and dangerous. That's how they ended up here and, your boss, Alexander Pierce had sold you out to save himself.

“When … W-When am I going to get my phone call?” You asked as the bus entered the gates of the prison, finally stopping at the processing center. 

Rumlow chuckled, walking over to unchain your shackles from the floor of the bus, “Who are you going to call, princess? Mommy and Daddy?” He grabbed you roughly by your upper arm, pulling you out of your seat and dragging you down the steps of the bus. 

You refused to accept that you had been erased. Your parents probably thought you were only missing, not that you had been wrongly accused of betraying the government and had been thrown into the most dangerous prison in the country. 

“They can’t do this,” You winced as your arm stung, “No trial. No jury. T-This is illegal!”

Rumlow ignored you, and you had to pick up your pace in order to not fall down. Your eyes wandered around, the sun nearly blinding you and stinging your skin at the same time. You noticed in the distance a group of male inmates standing behind a wired fence, wearing the same navy jumpsuit as you, and even from far away, you could see cold and hungry glances. 

You thought you were lucky for a minute since you were a woman but then you remembered what kind of women probably lived here. As you were brought inside, past several guards, through metal detectors and pat-downs. 

When you got to the body cavity search, you expected to part way with Rumlow. Standing in a small, cold room, Rumlow stood in the doorway with his hands casually in the pockets of his pants, “Undress, inmate,” Your eyes widened and you quickly crossed your arms, “Slowly, if you don’t mind.”

“I-I do mind,” You said quickly, “I’m supposed to have a female officer-”

“You don’t get those kinds of privileges in the Cage. We don’t separate inmates by gender,” You shook your head as your eyebrows began to furrow. 

“That’s insane-”

“Undress, inmate,” He said more sternly this time, “Or would you like me to do it for you? You’re lucky I don’t make you put on a show for the rest of the guards.”

You shook your head again, tears starting to form in your tired eyes, “Please don’t-” You tried to plead with him but, as you did, you watched him reach for his baton, “Okay, okay!”

Rumlow smiled a wicked smile, “Good. Bend over and cough, inmate. Let me see that cute, little ass of yours.”

+

When you finally got to see a female officer, she was escorting you to your cell. In your hands, you held the rest of your life which included one more set of clothes, bedding, and a toothbrush. You had to eat what the prison provided and you could only earn extra commissary from working. Hela tried to explain everything to you but you were only latching onto every other world. 

You walked along a slim passageway which had cells to the right and a metal railing to the left. There were three floors of cells and they seemed to go all the way around in a circle. Passed the railing and in the middle of the dome was where it seemed most of the inmates were gathered. 

The shouting, laughing, and fighting echoed through the dome and you couldn’t help but think those calls were for you. You could barely carry your bag of things and walk straight without stumbling. If they couldn’t send your weakness from your appearance then they’d surely sniff it out soon. 

“This can’t be allowed,” You whispered to Officer Hela, though her dark hair mixed with the look of death in her eyes didn’t scream “empathy” to you, “There has to be some sort of rule-”

She stopped in front of an empty, six by eight-foot cell which told you that this would be your new home, “You can sit in solitary if you like,” She spoke coldly, “Your meals get brought to you and you don’t have to deal with the animals in here but there’s no time outside. It’s easy to lose track of the days and forget which voices are real and which ones are inside your head. If you prefer to go insane before you die then I’d recommend that route.”

There wasn’t much of a choice to make and you found your feet moving before your brain could register. You stepped inside the cell, setting down your things on the bottom bunk, “A girl like you is going to need to latch onto a group, pledge your allegiance, and do not let them question your loyalty. They live by a different code here and following it is life or death, do you understand?”

You slowly nodded as you listened and part of you was grateful that she wasn’t completely cold, “T-Thank you-”

She scoffed, “Such a precious little thing … I give you a week,” With that, she turned on her heel and you felt hopeless once again, “I’ll escort you to dinner-”

You shook your head, “I’m not hungry.” You were actually starving but you could not yet face the beast. 

She only shrugged and pulled the door closed. The light above you flickered and you stared back down at your bunk. You were holding back your tears as you tried to make up your bed. Staring at the flimsy mattress material only made you more depressed so you decided just to lay down. Facing the wall, your tired eyes roamed over what was scribbled on the walls. 

S.H.I.E.L.D. is evil. 

S.H.I.E.L.D. is corrupt. 

You hated that the words initially sent a wave of anger through you. You hated that you still felt loyal to that group of monsters. You were a low level worker with good standing and they had just sent you to die?

With your face tucked into your arm, you cried yourself to sleep. 

+

The next day you had no choice but to face your fears. You couldn’t go any longer without food and, in a place like this, you needed to keep your energy up. Before the sun was even out, you heard the mechanical click of the cell door. Your favorite officer, Rumlow, made sure to stop by your cell during roll call. 

“So you decided on general population,” He popped the gum he was chewing, looking you over, “I’m sad to hear it, I was gonna visit you every day in solitary but I guess we’ll get some alone time soon enough.”

You scowled at him and a shiver went through you as he continued pass your cell. You were now grateful that you had chosen general population. 

That feeling didn’t last as inmates started moving from their cells down to breakfast. You stayed back, waiting to slip out of your cell when the crowd had passed. You lingered in the back of the line but no one seemed to notice you until you were in the kitchen line. The first reaction was a quiet murmur that went through the group of (mostly) men at the sight of you. 

You didn’t quite match anyone's stature, not even the women. At least they looked like they could take care of themselves. You were sure that your face probably had dark circles and sunken in features. You looked down when you felt someone's eyes on you and you cringed at every word whispered about you. 

“If I could just get my hands on her …”

“I wonder what a little girl like that could’ve done to get in here.”

“I’d be real gentle with her …” “I wouldn’t … I’d make her scream …”

“Move along,” Hela barked at the inmates in the line. You tried to tune them out as a staff member handed you your tray of food. A stale piece of toast, plastic-looking eggs, peaches, and what looked like could be oatmeal. 

It was when you turned away that you felt a pinch on your bottom. You turned around quickly only to find yourself staring at a chest rather than a face. As you looked up, a man with long, dark black hair stared down at you, “Aren’t you adorable?”

“I said move along, inmates,” You looked towards Hela for some sort of help but didn’t receive any. 

When you looked back again, the man had disappeared. You shook it off, figuring that was the least of what you were about to experience today. As you stepped out into the middle of the dome, you remembered the advice that Hela had managed to give you. 

There were cliques formed at each circular, metal table and you looked each one over as you walked past them. Again, people stared and said vile things but you spotted a table where two women were sitting. They were much older than you but the look you got from them was not maternal in the least. 

“Can I… sit here?” You knew the answer based on their thin-lipped scowls. 

You weren’t like any of them … you were fragile. Besides that, you used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. and the organization was responsible for locking half of these people away. You kept walking, eventually finding an empty table to sit at. 

All you could think about now was eating. You picked at your tray with your plastic fork, and with each bite of the food you cringed. The toast was also completely rock hard, “It helps if you dip it in water,” Your head snapped up as you felt a shadow over you before someone took a seat beside you. 

You weren’t expecting someone so young and you certainly weren’t expecting a friendly smile. You stared at the handsome man with your mouth agape. You hadn’t realized what he meant until you looked back down at the bread in your hands, “Oh … I doubt anything would make this edible-”

He ran his hand through his light brown hair, before reaching into the pocket of his jumpsuit. On the table in front of you, he placed a twinkie. The entire room seemed to go quiet for a moment and you realized that everyone was watching the two of you. 

“I can’t accept this …”

“Of course you can, it’s no big deal,” His brown eyes pierced into yours as he shrugged, “I’m Peter.”

The sugary, process food was calling your name but you still weren’t sure what his deal was, “T-Thank you,” Not wanting to come off rude, you accepted it, unknowingly beginning to seal your fate, “I’m … I’m-”

“Y/N Y/LN,” He finished for you which left your eyes wide with shock, “You’re already famous. The guards like to gossip and it’s rare we get new inmates so people get curious.”

“Oh,” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. 

“Don’t worry, some people in here care about your charges, how you got here, but not me,” He tried to reassure you, a smile tugging at his lips, “S.H.I.E.L.D. screwed us all and I don’t think there’s a point in playing who’s the better bad guy.”

You looked around. Now that you knew that people knew your charges and your history, you were starting to feel unsettled. The only thing keeping you grounded was him reassuring you that he didn’t care, “How long-” Your voice came out in a whisper, “How long have you been here?”

Peter took a breath as he thought for a moment, “Few years. Now I kinda forget that I was a normal teenager when this all started.”

Years. And he was a teenager when they brought him here? Did they have no limits to their cruelty?

“God,” You breathed out, overwhelmed, “I don’t think I can … do this-”

Peter reached out, placing a calm hand on your arm, “Hey, hey, you have to survive here. Whether you were meant to be here or not, you have to live like this is your reality. Looking like you’re about to vomit is not a good look to everyone else. I saw Loki over there … he’s an asshole touching you like that  but it’s because he’s already sniffed you out.”

You nodded, trying to stay calm, “But I don’t know how to look … to look less weak.”

“For one, you’re going to have to start eating more and building some muscle,” You could tell by his grip on your arm that he was quite strong, “And the next time someone disrespects you, you have to stand up for yourself. You also can’t just bark like a little chihuahua. Maybe you could pick someone out, someone that you could win in a fight against.”

As Peter started to scan the room, you immediately started shaking your hand, “I can’t just attack someone,” You whisper-shouted, your eyes wide with worry. 

Peter chuckled, “Not with that attitude. Maybe you could go for Heather over there,” He eyed a woman who was practically elderly, “She has a cane so even you could probably overpower though I’ve seen here use the thing as a weapon a few times-”

“Peter,” You spoke sharply, “There has to be another way.”

Peter looked into your eyes and you lost hope for a moment until he seemed to perk up, “I have some friends, we kind of run together in this place, looking out for each other,” Peter explained and you listened intently, hoping for a means of survival that didn’t require attacking an old lady, “I could probably convince them to start looking out for you too. But it won’t be easy, we take loyalty very seriously here, and it wouldn’t be without a cost to you.”

“What sort of cost?”

Peter shrugged, “Could be lots of things. They serve plums on Friday and Bucky loves those so maybe you’d show your support to the group by giving him yours. Something like that,” You followed Peter’s finger as he pointed two men out, one with dark hair and the other with light. Both were built like bodybuilders, “Steve’s a respected leader here and maybe you could help run messages for him.” 

You nodded, “T-That sounds fair,” You paused for a moment as the men eyed you, “And for the twinkie? What do you want?”

“Now you’re starting to get it,” Peter grinned, “Eat it and that means you accept our claim. You’re one of us.”

“Can’t I have time to think about it?” 

Peter seemed to hesitate for the first time, “I’m sure you won’t get a better offer,” Your face fell, “But sure. I’d be quick about it though. Those big, doe eyes aren’t going to work on everybody.”

+

The dark-haired one was following you. Loki, Peter called him, hadn’t taken his eyes off you ever since you parted ways with Peter yesterday. He and his greek god, blonde friend were now walking behind you as you made your way through the halls. They were pushing mop buckets, evidently taking a break from their cleaning duty. 

You had gotten lost trying to find the hospital wing and now you were paying the consequences. 

“Little bird … caged and unprotected,” He taunted you and your heartbeat quickened as you tried to keep from looking back,  “Not even the guards want to save her. Poor thing.”

“It seems she’s in need of protecting, brother.”

“Protecting? If I got my hands on her, the last thing I’d think of is being gentle-”

You turned into the first room you passed, expecting to find somewhere to hide but you only seemed to encounter more people. It was the TV room, a staticy old television airing a baseball game was hanging in the corner of the room, and a bunch of men were sitting at different tables. 

They all turned their heads to you as you interrupted and you immediately recognized the two men from Peter’s loyal “group”. Bucky and Steve. Your heart was out of your chest at the point and you found yourself whispering a “sorry” before turning back towards the door. Loki and his brother, however, were waiting patiently. 

Loki leaned in the doorway, eyeing you like you were fresh meat. 

“Is this jackass bothering you, hon?” Your eyes wide with fear, you quickly realized that it wasn’t Loki taunting you. The dark-haired man’s, you remembered Peter calling him Bucky, voice boomed through the room.

You froze.

“Don’t you have toilets to scrub, Laufeyson?” The light hair man with a thick beard spoke, and by the look on his face you could tell he was a man of power. Not so much power-hungry but someone that demanded respect and often received it. 

Loki scoffed, looking over you again, “As far as I know, this one is free territory.”

“Well, this room is my territory and guess where she happens to be standing,” Loki’s jaw clenched at Steve’s words. 

“C’mere, hon,” Bucky spoke to you, signaling to cross the room. She hesitated but only for a moment as you realized your choices were Peter’s friends or letting Loki, have you. You crossed the room cautiously towards them, everyone now looking at you. You paused awkwardly in front of the table but a small yelp left your lip as Bucky grabbed you by the arm, spinning you into his lap. 

“See,” Steve said as you uncomfortably tried your best not to squirm, “Don’t touch things that aren’t yours, Laufeyson.”

You felt a hand clench your thigh and cringed.

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

As soon as Loki stormed away, you stood up, brushing whatever wrinkles had formed in your jumpsuit. Amused, Bucky smiled at you, “You could at least thank us,” Bucky leaned forward and you tried not to scowl. 

“Thank you,” You whispered. 

“Good girl,” Bucky smirked. 

“Lang, get Y/N a chair,” Steve ordered another man in the room. He was quick to obey the command and, even though you were in a new place, you felt you’d been transported into an entirely new planet. 

“You don’t have to-”

“Sit,” Steve said as the chair was placed beside you, “You can leave when you give us an answer to the offer Peter mentioned yesterday.”

You had thought long and hard about Peter’s offer and decided last night that you wanted to reject it. It wasn’t until now that you realized your decision was a mistake. There was no telling when you’d be getting out of this place, Peter had been here for years, and it seemed you were already a target. 

You’d even heard a rumor that the guards placed bets on how long you’d survive in here. 

“Yes …” You nodded your head, “That’s my answer.”

Steve's lips pulled into a small grin as he eyed his friend across the table, “Good choice, doll.”

+

A week later and you were still alive and relatively untouched. Bucky was quite handsy but Peter reminded you that it was just protocol. Everyone had to know that you were a part of their group and that, if you were harmed, they’d have to deal with Steve and his minions. 

Like Peter said, there were quite a few sacrifices you had to make. Your new job in the kitchen allowed you to provide the group with all the food they wanted and when you weren’t working, you were running errands for Steve. You got an idea of all the inmate leaders and how they functioned as a society. 

Steve seemed to be at the very top and you realized the possible consequences of crossing someone like him. Still, you felt more pampered than like you were a part of some elaborate prison gang. Most of your wishes were theirs to grant. 

They let you watch whatever you wanted in the TV room. Bucky always called you pet names that you were starting to grow fond of. Steve had some pull with the guards so Rumlow was never around to bother you anymore. Peter even found you a set of paints to occupy your time in your cell. As long as you followed them around like their cute little puppy, they were quite nice to you. 

“C’mon, run a lap with me. You gotta build your strength,” Peter asked you, his face sweaty and shining under the baking sun. He was shirtless, the shirtsleeves of his uniform wrapped around his waist, and his magnificent physique was on display just like Steve and Bucky’s. During rec time in the courtyard, you’d become accustomed to standing by the fence and watching them lift weights. 

“I’m good, thanks,” You smiled awkwardly, “I get tired just from watching you guys.”

“Peter’s right,” Steve let out a breath as he dropped his hundred-pound dumbbell.

“I just …” Your voice trailed off as Steve eyed you with his strong gaze. You knew that what he said goes but you were growing nervous, “I don’t want to get sweaty.”

“You’re serious?” Bucky chimed in, a curious look on his face. 

“Is that like a girl thing I don’t know about?” Peter flashed you an amused look and your cheeks began to heat with embarrassment. 

“Y/N?” Steve could see that you were hiding something.

You crossed your arms, sighing, “I just don’t want to have to shower, okay?”

“You haven’t showered since you’ve been here?” Peter asked incredulously. 

“I have!” You quickly defended yourself, “I mean, I’ve just been using the sink in my cell.”

“I see what this is about,” Bucky had a knowing look on his face, “Dollface is scared of the communal showers.”

Peter’s mouth formed the shape of an “o” as he realized what was going on. You still felt so embarrassed. It was yet another thing that made you seem totally defenseless. 

“Is that true?” Steve asked and you were beginning to feel overwhelmed by their concerned gazes, “Why didn’t you tell us? Next time, one of us will keep watch for you. No one’s gonna bother you.”

Maybe it was the isolation or the fact that your life would never be the same again. Maybe it was the fact that you’d never see your family again or that you cried yourself to sleep every night. That might be the reason you felt that they genuinely cared for you and why you wanted to fully embrace the comfort that they were providing. 

Maybe that was why you wanted to belong to them. 

+

For the first time, you were reminded of your old life. You weren’t sure how long you’d lost yourself under the water, letting time get away from you, as the warm water cascaded along your skin. The showers had a sorry excuse for water pressure and, despite the creepiness of the beige tiles and flickering light above, when you closed your eyes you were in paradise. 

“All clean, beautiful?” Bucky’s voice brought you out of your trance. Suddenly you were back in the square room with showerheads lining each wall. You wiped the water from your eyes before turning off the water. 

“Y-Yes, I’m almost done!” You shouted back, grabbing your towel from off the hook. You pressed it to your face, drying your skin. You were quite grateful that they’d taken the extra steps to make you feel protected, “Bucky-”

As you turned around, that feeling of gratitude quickly turned to something resembling fear. He was supposed to wait for you outside the bathroom and yet, there he was, only three feet away from you. 

“What are you-”

He looked over you hungrily and you pressed your towel closer to your body, “You have no idea how long it's been since I’ve been with a beautiful woman like you … Steve too. And Peter, he’s just learning the ropes.”

You took a step back, towards the wall, and as you did you caught a glimpse behind Bucky’s towering figure. Both Steve and Peter were here, stalking closer. 

“You said you’d protect me…” Your voice cracked, your hands beginning to shake. 

“We will,” Steve spoke, determined, “No one else but us will touch you.”

“Nothing in here is without a cost, Y/N,” Peter seemed a bit solemn like his current life was not what he wanted it to be but he was just as hungry, if not more, as Bucky. 

Bucky grabbed you then, his eyes impatient, and you wrestled for your towel for only a moment before he easily snatched it away from you. A helpless squeal left your mouth as he grabbed you by the arm with one hand and placed his other hand between your legs. He grabbed your thigh tightly and as his hand moved further up, you found yourself paralyzed. 

“Good girl. You’re going to take all of us,” Bucky spoke quietly, shushing you, his grip growing tighter and tighter. Before you knew it, all three of them were surrounding you, their curious hands wandering over your wet skin. Grabbing your breast, your thighs, turning your face to bite at your neck. 

“Get on your knees,” Steve grunted against your ear, growing impatient like his friend. 

When you didn’t move, Peter was the one to push you down onto the cold floor. You hiccuped, trying not to hyperventilate as they overwhelmed you from each side. As they all started to pull down their clothes, you made one final attempt at trying to crawl away. 

Steve grabbed you by your throat, making your efforts futile, pushing your face towards his crotch. You felt it, hard and throbbing against your cheek, “Open up, don’t make this hard, doll,” Through the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky stroking his own length, waiting patiently for his turn. 

Steve grabbed you by your hair next, pressing your closed lips against his tip. He forced himself in your mouth, “There you go,” Steve grunted, pushing himself deeper, “Move that tongue around.”

Steve Rogers could make your life a living hell in the Cage. Was this really the price you had to pay in order to survive here? You couldn’t imagine it being any worse than this but Steve could make that possible. That’s why you started to swirl your tongue like he said, deciding that their orgasms would end your pain. 

Bucky was much rougher than Steve, pinching your nose closed and enjoying watching your eyes widen and water. He practically touched the back of your throat and still commanded you to stroke Peter and Steve’s cocks with your hands while you took him in your mouth. Somehow, you managed. 

Peter was much more gentle and you were grateful for that. His hands rested softly on the back of your head, guiding your mouth slowly up and down his length, “God, this is awesome,” He cursed, his head tilting back as he enjoyed the stimulation. When he finally finished, his warmth filled your mouth and before you could spit or catch your breath, Bucky grabbed you again. 

He came so far down your throat that you were forced to swallow it but, unlike him, Steve took his time, “This little mouth. Is ours. Every single hole. Is ours. No one else, do you understand?” With each sentence, he thrust hard until he filled your mouth. You leaned over, coughing as you felt the stinging of your sore throat. 

You were about to collapse onto the dirty cold floor when gentle arms lifted you up into a broad chest. You found yourself not fighting, only pressing your face into Bucky’s chest as you began to sob. 

Steve didn’t have to say anything more. You understand your new position and there wasn’t anyone else there to save you from that fate. 

That night you learned there was a change to your cell assignment. You’d sleep in Steve’s arms, a little bird that was safe and protected in it’s cage. 

+

hope you enjoyed!! i’m posting this instead of sleeping because I have class in this morning :) 

[luxekook]

okay, bloomer ❃ myg

❃ pairing: floral assistant/rapper!yoongi x reader

❃ genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, slight crack, light angst and smut

❃ summary: spin-off sequel to ‘petal to the metal’; in which the reader visits a flower shop on her way home from work to treat herself to a flower and then keeps returning just to interact with the shop’s cute tsundere floral assistant. the last thing she expects is to see him ~spitting hot fire~ and looking hot as sin at her friend’s music event. how is she supposed to get flowers in peace now?

❃ word count: 10.2k

❃ warnings: 18+, cursing, violent imagery, mansplaining, tattooed and pierced yoongi, jealousy, mention of drinking, lots of sass, yoongi is soft as hell, rapping, jungkook being an idiot, smut [biting, blindfolding, bondage, sensory play, oral (f + m receiving), unprotected sex (WRAP IT), slight dom/sub themes, yoongi and reader are swiches, dirty talk, workplace sex]

❃ beta’d by: the amazing and gorgeous phia @meowxyoong​

❃ banner by: the iconic and beautiful danica @dee-ehn​

❃ commissioned by: my angel bby sweetheart jess @floralsuga​ UWU ILY AND I HOPE U LOVE THIS YOONGI AS MUCH AS I DO!!!!

The first time you enter the flower shop, it’s on a whim after a particularly bad day at work. You stomp down the street towards your apartment stewing over how Darryl can go screw himself as far as you are concerned. You almost flipped your desk today after the fifth time he tried to explain your own job to you. 

It’s like you haven’t been working at the graphic design firm for over three years and know all there is to know about typography and how it reads on book covers. You knew the moment your boss paired you with Darryl for this assignment, you were going to be in for a bumpy ride. You just didn’t expect the bumps to be of Mount Everest proportions.

You probably look crazy as you stalk down the block untethered in your rage, mumbling something about shoving your stylus so far up Darryl’s ass he’ll choke on your creativity. 

Somehow you unconsciously turn your head to admire a display of flowers blooming in a shop window. The blooming bunches of color call to you like a beacon of light in the darkness. Fuck it, you are going to treat yourself.

You dart across the street, dodging traffic. You need a flower. You need something that will brighten your evening and remind you that there is still beauty on this earth after all that mansplaining. And it seems that Of Fern & Freesia Flower Co. will be your oasis of choice. 

Squaring your shoulders, you push open the heavy wooden and glass door of the shop. The sound of a bell chimes in the air as you enter. A smile forms as you take in the array of greenery and petals surrounding you. The air smells like summer meadows and deep forests. 

Wandering around, you realize that it’s going to be harder than you thought to pick just one flower to go home with. As you near the back of the shop, you notice the general shop counter with a cash register, a small jar, and an array of flowers scattered across the deep oak wood. It seems like someone is piecing together a bouquet.

“Can I help you?” A low, languid voice calls out to you. Slowly, a boy emerges from the back room. Your eyes widen at the sight before you. He’s of average height with lean muscle and tattoos winding up both arms. His ears glint with multiple piercings, his left eyebrow has an intimidating slice through it, and his hair is a messy array of silver with a sexy as hell undercut. Yet, despite all of that tough exterior, the second you look at his face you melt.

The boy has the cutest face you have ever seen. His cheeks are full and pink, his nose is the most adorable little button, his lips are a dusky shade of rose. He has the face of an angel wrapped in a sinful package. Honestly, it’s unfair.

After a few moments, you realize he seems to be waiting for you to speak. Slitted eyebrow arched, he stares at you, dark eyes flicking over your own body.

“I’m looking to get a flower, but I just don’t know which one to pick,” You sigh, eyes shifting to glance around the shop once more. “There are so many beautiful ones to choose from.”

“Well,” The boy murmurs, “Sometimes one beautiful flower just stands out from the rest.”

Your eyes return to him, finally noticing the name-tag haphazardly pinned to his apron. Yoongi. His name is Yoongi. “And do you know which flower stands out today?” You ask, hands gripping your work tote so that you don’t do anything embarrassing like squish his chubby cheeks between your palms.

“Without a doubt,” He quirks a small smile in your direction before walking around the counter. Without a word more, he wanders down the rows of flowers and stops at a particular bunch of blue blossoms. He carefully selects one flower from the bunch and extends it out to you.

You accept the flower, examining it closely. It’s beautiful indeed. Shooting a glance at the sign attached to the bucket the flower had originated from, you smile as you read the label of ‘rare blue-tinted orchids’ (rare and unique beauty).

Turning back to Yoongi, you realize he has already begun to walk back to the counter. Quickly, you follow in his footsteps, carefully holding your flower in one hand and digging through your bag to find your wallet with the other. Upon reaching the counter, you gently place your orchid down to finally retrieve your wallet from where it had been lurking at the very bottom of your tote. 

“How much do I owe you?” You look up at Yoongi who had been staring at you with a peculiar expression on his face. 

He just shrugs, fiddling with one of the many silver rings adorning his fingers, “Nothing. It’s on the house.” 

“What?” You tilt your head in confusion, “But the sign said these are rare, so I’m sure it can’t be cheap.”

Again, Yoongi just lifts a shoulder lazily and shoots you a half smile, “I get an employee discount.” 

“Oh,” Your eyes fall under his intense scrutiny. They land on the small jar sitting next to the register. It’s labeled with a sticky note that says: “Feed Yoongi’s Dumpling Addiction”. 

“Dumplings, huh?” You grin at the cute boy and quickly grab ten dollars from your wallet, shoving the bill inside the jar. 

“Hey!” Yoongi pouts, “That’s not fair.” His cheeks are shaded a bright pink, “You can’t use my weakness against me like this.”

“I just did!” You laugh, slinging your bag over your shoulder and picking up your orchid once more. “Bye, Yoongi.”

You send him a wave and head back out into the night. You don’t realize he had stared out after you for quite some time with a small smile and a gleam in his eye. No, you are too busy picturing what it would be like to go get dumplings with a cute flower shop assistant. 

The next day at work you bring your flower along with you. Your desk needs some life breathed into it, and your flower does just the trick. Plus, you can't help but smile each time you look at it. 

And so when cursed Darryl waltzes over to you to talk about your project, you kindly tell him to fuck off. You know, in a safe for work fashion. You don’t need his bullshit or his bad vibes. Not when you can draw up romance novel cover designs with a certain boy in mind. It comes as no surprise to you as you realize later on that you had been drawing orchids woven throughout the book title.

The rest of the week passes by slowly as does the wilting of your flower. Yet on Thursday, your boss praises you for your flower designs, so much so that she decides to give you the company credit card to go buy a bouquet for the office as further inspiration. You tell her you know just the place. 

Taking an extended lunch break, you trek over to Of Fern & Freesia. Stepping through its doors brings an immediate smile to your face. You glance around, noticing a few other customers scattered throughout the shop. No sign of Yoongi.

You weave your way around the rows of flowers and the patrons that dot the aisles. A heavy feeling of disappointment settles in the pit of your stomach as you notice that there is a woman at the counter instead of the cute boy from a few days prior. The woman glances up as you approach, “Oh, hello! Welcome to Of Fern & Freesia. How may I help you?” 

“Hi, yes,” You shoot a furtive glance around, “I was hoping that you could recommend a bouquet?”

“Hm,” She nods, “Of course! What’s the occasion?” 

“It’s just for my office,” You explain, “We need some inspiration, and flowers seem to have helped lately.”

“I see,” She smiles, “Well, let me ask you if—” 

“Hey, boss lady! Do you know what happened to the lace ribbons? I can’t find— Oh,” Yoongi halts as he emerges from the back room and lays eyes on you. “Hello,” He mumbles, running a hand through his hair.

The woman helping you looks at Yoongi and then looks back at you and then looks at Yoongi again. A sly smile forms on her lips, “Well, well, well. Why don’t I go look for those lace ribbons while you help this customer here.” She turns to you, “My very best employee will be sure to take excellent care of you.”

Chuckling slightly, she disappears through the door that Yoongi had vacated a minute before.

“I’m your only employee!” Yoongi calls after her, the small smile on his face betraying his complaint. Still grinning slightly, he turns his brown eyes back to you, “Hello again…” He pauses, clearly waiting for you to fill in the unspoken blank.

“(Y/n),” You extend a hand out tentatively, “And you’re Yoongi.”

“That I am,” Yoongi smirks and takes your hand in his. You glance down at your clasped hands and marvel at how his hand fully engulfs yours. The heat of his palm burns into you while the coolness of his many rings makes you shiver. Eventually, you let go, certain your cheeks are as red as the display of roses to your left.

“Well, what can I do for you, (y/n)? Back for another flower?” His eyes flit around the shop briefly before returning to yours.

“A bouquet, actually,” You smile, “For the office. On the office.” You flash the company card that your boss had given you, and your stomach flips as he laughs – his dark eyes crinkling and his gums showing adorably. 

“Didn’t picture you working in an office,” He mumbles, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as his tongue pokes his cheek.

“Oh, so you’ve been picturing me, then?” You tease and internally sigh as he blushes fiercely, turning away from you.

“Yah, you know what I meant,” Yoongi scowls without any real menace, “You seem like you do something - I don't know - weird.”

You stare at him a moment and then burst into laughter. Yoongi pouts as you continue to crack up over his brazen observation. “I mean I guess designing romance novel covers isn’t the most conventional job, but it pays the bills and it’s pretty fun.”

“Romance novels?” Yoongi widens his eyes comically, “Don’t say that around the boss lady, she’s obsessed with them.”

“I heard that,” A yell sounds from the back room, “And I’m demoting you!”

“I’m demoted just by being associated with you!” Yoongi calls back.

You think you hear his boss mutter something about shoving a branch of redbud (betrayal) up Yoongi’s ass but you can’t be sure. Yoongi walks around the counter to lead you around the shop.

“What are you looking for, (y/n)?” His gaze is heated as it rests on you, and you bask in its glory.

“I’m good with whatever you recommend,” You shrug, “I’m in your hands.”

“Not yet,” Yoongi mutters under his breath; and before you can question that remark, he stalks off down an aisle, practically mowing down innocent shoppers. You trail after him, watching as he seems to be picking flowers at random. However, once he brings them all up front to arrange them, the flowers combine effortlessly into a beautiful bouquet.

“Wow,” You say softly, admiring the colorful arrangement before you, “This is beautiful, Yoongi. What kind of flowers are they?”

Yoongi rapidly fires off a number of flowers, most of which you had never even heard of before: honeysuckle and alstroemeria flowers (devotion), lilies of the valley (return of happiness), and petunias (your presence soothes me). 

As you hand him the company card to ring up your purchase, you notice a stray flower set aside from the bunch. “That one didn’t fit with the rest?” You joke, pointing to the multi-petaled pink flower.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “Obviously not, (y/n). That one is for you.”

You let out an embarrassingly high-pitched giggle, “Well, excuse me for not being an expert, flower boy.”

He groans at the nickname, shaking his head in disgust. But, you see his lips twitching. God, he is so cute. You almost don’t even know how you had been intimidated by him at first. Even his tattoos and piercings are endearing to you now. You see them as a layer of protection he has in order to protect his soft heart.

Yeah, you are fucking whipped.

In an attempt to distract yourself from your growing infatuation, you glance down. The tip jar catches your attention, and you grin immediately as you read today’s inscription: “Yoongi’s Nap Fund: One Dollar = One Nap”. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Yoongi warns, but it’s too late. You shove another ten dollar bill inside. 

“Goddamn you,” Yoongi sighs, and the way he says it sounds like a confession. And you are so losing your marbles. And your job. You catch sight of the clock hanging on the back wall, and you are so, so late to get back to the office.

Cursing softly, you grab the bouquet and accept the flower Yoongi extends out to you, “Thanks, flower boy. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

With that, you rush out the door, pulling a full Yoongi as you ruthlessly storm past customers on your way out. You unknowingly leave Yoongi in your dust, staring at you with what can only be affection. 

When you get home after your shift later that night, you quickly put your new flower in a mason jar with water and admire its beauty. After a quick google search, you identify the flower as a camellia. 

You fail to read further. But, if you had, you would have discovered the meaning of the flower Yoongi had gifted to you… My destiny is in your hands.

The next few weeks pass in a flurry of flowers - each prettier than the last. But that could just be the rose-tinted glasses you’ve been walking around with ever since you met Yoongi. You had visited Of Fern & Freesia such an embarrassing amount of times that you figured you should have a frequent flyer card.

But, who in their right mind could blame you when men like Min Yoongi exist? That’s right, you are on a full name basis now courtesy of one of Yoongi’s latest tip jars: “Support Min Yoongi in purchasing an off button for Jeon Jungkook”. 

With every visit came a new flower and a new post-it note on his tip jar. For instance, last Monday Yoongi gave you two stock flowers (you will always be beautiful to me), to which you immediately clowned him on for buying you stocks. He had just shaken his head at you - a common reaction from Yoongi that you had been on the receiving end of too many times to count. On that day, you had shoved a twenty dollar bill in the jar labeled: “New headphones for Yoongi’s silent, sad and lonely ears”. 

This Tuesday you had arrived at the shop right at closing. Your job had required you to stay for a late meeting because Darryl had fucked something up with his latest project. It’s honestly a wonder how he hasn’t been fired yet. After the meeting ended, you had practically run out of the office to make it to see Yoongi in time. When you stepped into the shop, you had been greeted with a growly yell of “We’re closed! Get lost!” And then when Yoongi came storming towards the front, he’d skittered to a halt, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find words.

You had just shyly waved like an idiot and then had turned to leave, only to be tugged back inside by Yoongi. “Come on,” He had said lowly, seeming quite exasperated with you, “I have your fix.” He had held your wrist all the way up to the counter as you blushed profusely behind him. He had handed you a zinnia (I mourn your absence), and you had added a couple five dollar bills to his jar simply entitled: “Do it. You won’t.”

And, finally, yesterday you had made sure to visit on time, clocking out of work at 5:00PM exactly. Your boss had even asked if you had a hot date. God, you had fucking wished. In all your hurry to get over to Of Fern & Freesia, you had forgotten one important piece of information that had been made crystal clear the moment Yoongi had locked eyes on you - you needed to do laundry.

Now, this might seem like an odd and offhand comment, but it meant that you had been wearing your more formal work clothes out of necessity. A form fitting pencil skirt with a tucked in button up blouse - both of which were on the tighter side from not being worn enough - paired with your favorite stilettoed ankle boots had been your outfit of choice and your last resort.

You had clicked and clacked your way up to the counter and had almost turned right back around at the look Yoongi had given you. His eyes had been the darkest you’d ever seen. You hadn’t quite been able to read the storm of emotions within them. Had it been anger? Annoyance? Attraction? 

God, you had prayed it was the last. 

When you had made it to Yoongi, he had let out a harsh breath before turning away from you for a moment. “Hey, flower boy,” You had said tentatively, “Are you okay?”

“I’m just peachy,” He had muttered, slamming down a few flowers on the counter. 

“O-o-okay,” You had responded, drawing out the word. You had stared quizzically at Yoongi as he fiddled with his rings, looking more on edge than you had ever seen him before. His eyes had flicked over your body, and then finally he had met your eyes.

“Sorry,” He had grumbled out, “You just caught me off guard. These are for you.”

As Yoongi had gathered the flowers he had slammed down on the counter, you had realized you still had your hair up and fastened with your stylus. Tugging it out of your hair, you had tousled your hair with your fingers for a bit and then had shoved the stylus in your bag. You had thought you had heard Yoongi choke slightly, but your ears surely had been playing tricks on you. 

You had grinned at him as you grabbed the flowers from his outstretched hands and then tucked a twenty in his tip jar inscripted with: “Help Yoongi endure Kim Seokjin’s presence for three hours.”

Later that night, you had realized that you really should have brushed up on your flower knowledge sooner because apparently the flowers he had given you were peach blossoms (I am your captive). While their meaning is still unbeknownst to you, you now appreciate the pun wholeheartedly. 

You had even tried to see him tonight, but he hadn’t been working for some reason. It’s hard not to assume the worst. Is he on a date? Oh god, has he had a girlfriend this whole time? A boyfriend? A partner? You almost call up your friend Jackson to cancel on his music event because all you want to do is sit down on your couch with the two men who will never let you down - Ben and Jerry. 

But, you can't.

Jackson would hunt you down and drag you there himself if he had to. He had done that very thing when you tried to bail on his last party. It hadn’t been your fault that you considered a midweek celebration of his five point increase on his credit score to be extra as hell. But that is just Jackson, and you adore him for it.

You met Jackson through your job. He sometimes models for the book covers that your company produces; because, let’s be real, Jackson is a whole snack. Unfortunately, you seem to be attracted to boys on the surlier side as opposed to those on the sunshine side of the spectrum.

Therefore, you and Jackson are great friends, and he brings out (READ: forces out) your more social side. Tonight, he is MCing a local music show at one of the bars downtown. It’s apparently some sort of open mic night. You just hope your ears are all in one piece when you return home.

The bar is crowded as hell as you slip through its doors. The entire back area has been converted into a stage, and you notice Jackson getting ready to begin MCing. Of course, he spots you immediately, waving incessantly. You can’t help but smile back widely and wave.

Squeezing your way through the crowd, you luckily spy a free barstool with a decent view of the stage. Quickly claiming it as yours, you order a beer and settle in for the night. Your eyes drift across the crowd, seeing some familiar faces of musicians you had seen before at events like this.

You even think you see the woman from Of Fern & Freesia in the back corner, but that’s probably just your brain playing tricks on you. Your attention is brought back to the stage as Jackson begins to announce the general lineup for the night and then the first performer.

As you listen to the first performance, your heart aches. The musician’s ballad is slow and soulful, its lyrics deep and jarring. What you wouldn't give to feel a love like that, too feel so deeply for another person and to have that returned unconditionally. Again, your mind turns to the damned flower boy who has been ruling your thoughts lately. And as the song ends, you clap along with the crowd like you hadn’t just planned out your entire future with a boy you had met just a handful of times.

You watch as Jackson introduces the next performance - some group called ‘Bangtan’ featuring some dude named ‘Suga’. What kind of name is that? A stage name, you hope.

Five boys jump onto the stage, and the crowd goes fucking wild. As you assess the boys with your own two eyes, you see the hype. They’re hot as fuck. 

Their performance begins with two of the boys singing. Your eyebrows raise as their sweet voices grace your ears. You almost fall into a sense of security as their vocals envelop you. And then the rapping begins.

Your jaw drops all the way down to the pits of Hades as you take in the sight of what can only be Yoongi, your sweet fucking flower boy, spitting crazy hot fire alongside two other beautiful boys. Had you somehow eaten an edible unknowingly on your way over here? Have you teleported into an alternate universe? Have you travelled into another dimension? Have you fallen into the fucking upside down?

God, he looks so fine. In all the times in the flower shop, you had only seen him in plain t-shirts, black jeans, and an apron. Therefore, your mind is fucking blown at the way Yoongi is wearing the shit out of a long white t-shirt, ripped blue jeans, a white and silver jacket, and silver chains. 

The boy is sauntering around the stage like he fucking owns it, all cocky and brash. Your attention is riveted by the sheer talent before you, but your sanity is in shambles. He drags a hand through his messy hair and his undercut peeks out from underneath. Damn, that hairstyle suits him well.

It seems the performance is over both too soon and not soon enough. And when Yoongi stays on stage all by himself, you silently pray to any higher power out there that you survive this. The low sound of the bass fills the bar as Yoongi lazily nods to the opening beats of whatever he plans on performing.

Almost by fate, Yoongi’s eyes meet yours. They widen as they take you in, and you are absolutely certain you also resemble an owl as you stare back. Like the dork that you are, you lift your beer up in a silent toast to him, and your stomach flips as his lips quirk.

And then he starts. You cannot look away. Somehow Yoongi rapping solo is just as good as the previous performance with the four others. It might even be better; but, then again, you are insanely biased at this point. 

As he performs, you lose the ability to speak, to cheer alongside the crowd. The way Yoongi commands the stage with his words, his presence, his talent is quite possibly the sexiest thing you have ever seen. The looks he sends you definitely don’t help. You might actually melt into a puddle on this very floor.

And you nearly do as Yoongi’s song ends and he sends you a wink as he hops off stage. God, you need to get it together before you track the boy down, tug him to you by his silver chains, and kiss the hell out of him and his talented mouth. 

Yeah, you need to leave ASAP. Shooting Jackson a text, you leave a twenty on the bar and haul ass out of there.

How are you supposed to face Yoongi after this? You can’t even pretend it didn’t happen because he had seen you. If you don’t go back to the shop, he might think you hated his performance. But, if you do go back to the shop, you’ll have to face the boy who had destroyed your ovaries on stage in front of multiple dozens of people. 

Lord, you are so fucking screwed.

Saturday and Sunday pass with many more existential breakdowns; and by the time Monday arrives, you decide that - fuck it - you are going to do some recon. 

You email your boss that you are running a bit late and head over to the flower shop. It is barely 9:00AM when you strut through the doors.

The woman you had seen once before startles as you burst in, “Oh hey, it’s you! Um, Yoongi doesn’t work until later.”

You swear you turn fifty shades of maroon, “I-I know.”

She also blushes, “Right, sorry. I haven’t had my coffee yet. How can I help you? Another bouquet?”

Before you can answer her, a boy bounds through the door holding two steaming coffee cups. He looks eerily familiar, but you can't quite place where you have seen him before.

“Morning, noona!” The boy beams at the woman, and then belatedly realizes you are also there. “Aish, sorry!” You gape as he somehow becomes small, huddling by his ‘noona’. “I didn’t realize you had a customer already.”

“That’s alright, Jungkookie,” She smiles at the admittedly cute boy who is now scrutinizing you for some reason.

“Aha!” Jungkook snaps his fingers, “I know you! You’re Yoongi-hyung’s g—”

The woman grabs Jungkook’s ear before he can continue, “Ignore him. Please.” She shoots the boy a dark look that sends him pouting.

You try your best, but the words are already flying through your mind. Yoongi-hyung’s girl? His girl insert-space-here friend? His gremlin? His goddess divine? His fucking Go-Gurt?

The possibilities are too endless; and so you pull a Spongebob and burn the memory from your brain for the sake of your rationality. You quickly grab the first flower you see - a love-in-a-mist (perplexity) - and pay for it before jetting out the door.

Your feelings? Unstable.

Your recon mission? Unsuccessful.

Your inevitable face-off with Yoongi? Unavoidable.

“I heard you came by yesterday morning.” 

You nearly jump out of your skin, barely having crossed the threshold of the flower shop before Yoongi slides right in front of you. “Holy sweet mother of god, Yoongi! Have you been lurking by the door just to scare me like this?”

Yoongi’s gaze darts around, decidedly not looking at you. “No?” He tries. You don’t let him succeed.

“Oh, really...” You arch an eyebrow and try to step around him, but Yoongi just matches your movements - effectively blocking you from advancing further.

“Stop trying to distract me,” He growls. His frown is admittedly cute instead of intimidating in the way he probably intends. “Why did you visit yesterday morning instead of last night?”

It’s your turn to avoid eye contact as you look for any possible avenue for escape. Yoongi gives you no room to budge or even any time to answer as he continues to question you. “Could it be…” He leans closer to you, “That you didn’t like what you saw on Friday?”

Your heart stutters in your chest as Yoongi grows closer still, his breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, “Or maybe… it’s that you did like it.”

Before you risk it all and pounce on him while he’s working, you pull a spin move around Yoongi that would even make Lebron proud. Trying to put as much distance  between the two of you as possible, you power-walk away from him, calling over your shoulder, “Yes, I liked it, okay? God.”

You weave your way between the shelves of flowers with Yoongi trailing your every move. That little shit is relentless in his pursuit. You shoot him an evil eye between two buckets of flowers that he steadfastly ignores, “What did you like about it?” Yoongi grins widely, “Come on, tell me. Tell me. Just tell me, tell me, tell m—” You round the aisle he is on and clamp a hand over his mouth.

“Min Yoongi, for the love of reese’s peanut butter cups, shut your mouth.” Your glare strengthens as you can just tell he’s smirking underneath your hand. It’s difficult to ignore the plushness of his lips pressed against your palm. Did he just lick his lips? With your palm over them?

“I liked the collaboration you did with Jungkook and the other boys,” You shoot back at him, desperate to take him down a peg, “It was cute.” With a victorious smile at his darkening expression, you tug your hand away and turn to walk away. But déjà vu strikes as Yoongi’s hand envelops your wrist.

He pulls you back into his chest as he leans down. You can feel his words flow from his chest as he murmurs, “Oh really? And did you know that Jungkook is happily in a relationship? What a bummer.”

“Uh, I don’t recall asking,” You retort, “But that’s great for Jungkook. Should I send him a card in congratulations?”

“Fuck, you are so frustrating,” Yoongi groans and lets out an exasperated laugh, “Are you really going to make me ask?”

“Undoubtedly,” You grin like the menace you are.

Sighing, Yoongi presses closer to you. “(Y/n),” His lips brush against your ear, “What did you like about me?”

The way that Yoongi’s scent wraps around you, the way his lips move against your skin, the way his words drip with sensual intent makes you cave almost immediately. “Well, you had some fire bars, bro,” You blurt out.

He stills for a second and then a laugh bubbles up from his chest. You pout as he doubles over, clutching his stomach. 

“Hey,” You complain, “I thought that’s what all the youngsters are calling it these days.”

Yoongi laughs harder, “Oh my god, please stop. I’m going to break a rib from laughing too hard.”

You sniff, “Well, consider that the first and last compliment you will get from me. Ever.”

That shuts him up real quick. “Aw, babe,” He whines, following you as you move towards the counter in the back of the shop. Thank god there are no other customers to witness your complete degeneration into Min Yoongi Trash™. 

You slouch against the counter as you reach it, turning to face him. “Don’t ‘aw, babe’ me, babe. Now, get me my flower.”

Your sass does nothing but bring a smile to Yoongi’s face, and your frown deepens.

“I know just the thing,” He smirks. 

You don’t trust it. At all.

Yoongi goes behind the counter and grabs a little potted flower from behind the register. He pushes it over to your side slowly. “It’s a potato vine flower (you are delicious),” He says, like that explains everything. “It reminds me of you.”

You gape at the admittedly pretty triad of flowers intertwined together in the small silver pot. “A flower with potato in its name reminds you of me?” Your eyes narrow down into slits as you stare at him.

“Those are the words that came out of my mouth, yes.” His lips quirk at your growing ire.

“Hmph,” You turn up your nose, “Well, I will take it as a compliment. Potatoes are great, versatile, and goddamn tasty.”

“Indeed,” Yoongi smiles, running a hand through his hair. The rings adorning his fingers glisten under the shop’s lights, and you cannot help but follow his hands as they once again return to his sides.

You can feel your face warming as indecent thoughts of his hands on you fly through your brain. As your gaze remains lowered, it falls upon the tip jar. Today, it reads: “Help Yoongi fulfill his dream… of doing absolutely nothing”.

Before Yoongi can stop you, you shove a twenty into the jar. “Thanks for the potato plant, Yoongi,” You try to hide your smile as he - as predicted - gets into a huff over your incorrect identification.

“It’s a potato vine flower!” He yells after you as you walk away, “You know that, right? It’s important to me that you know that!”

“Po-tay-to, po-tat-oh,” You call back to him, laughing as you ignore his groan of protest. Provoking Yoongi might just become your new favorite hobby.

Work consumes your next few days and prevents you from visiting your lovely little flower boy. Obviously, that has contributed to your mood taking a turn for the worse. But, it’s also done a steep nosedive because fucking Darryl is back at it again with his misogyny. You really shouldn't be surprised at this point, but here you are, surrounded by cleaning supplies, one concerned model, and one indifferent photographer.

Your joint project is culminating tomorrow - book cover proposal for one of the industry’s top romance authors. The one job, the one fucking job, you had given Darryl was to buy props. And guess what Darryl had gotten? Fucking mops.

“I thought you just wanted to clean or some shit,” He had said and then had the nerve to shrug.

Oh, you are going to clean alright. Clean him right out of his office, you will. Using him as the broom you personally sweep the floor with. 

Now, your cover model Jinyoung is here, and there is nothing to make this shoot interesting. Jinyoung, one of Jackson’s close friends and fellow model, awkwardly tries to comfort you as you stew in your rage in the corner of the studio.

“What are we going to do?” You cry for the tenth time, getting ready to either burst into tears or to burn the building to the ground. At least Darryl had made himself scarce ever since you tore into his ass for a solid fifteen minutes. Honestly, that had been the highlight of your day.

“Are there any props around here?” Jinyoung suggests. You look around the studio only to find the photographer Mina scrolling through her phone and an assortment of lighting fixtures against the white backdrop. Suddenly, your gaze snaps back to Mina - more specifically to her floral patterned shirt.

“Come with me,” You grab Jinyoung’s hand and tug him out the door, “Mina, I’ll be back in ten!”

The photographer sends a thumbs up, and you and Jinyoung are on your way. “Where are we going?” He chuckles as you keep tugging him along out of the building and down the street.

“We are going to improvise,” You grit out as you stomp towards your destination, hand still grasping Jinyoung’s tightly. Finally, you arrive at Of Fern and Freesia. “We’re getting flowers,” You declare and enter the shop with Jinyoung in tow.

“Alright then,” He mutters, probably thinking that he doesn't get paid enough for this. And honestly neither do you - especially when you lock eyes with Min Yoongi and his face looks like thunder. You become hyper-aware that you are still clutching onto Jinyoung as Yoongi’s eyes fall to focus on your clasped hands. His jaw tightens. 

And then his expression clears like nothing had even happened. 

Your heart beats fast in your chest as you watch as Yoongi turns and walks into the back room of the shop without a backwards glance.

Had that been a display of jealousy just now? It could not have been. Nope.

You shove this whole thing aside. You aren’t Yoongi’s anything. Just like he isn’t yours. 

You clasp Jinyoung’s hand tighter as you haul him towards a selection of roses. “What do you think of any of these?” You ask Jinyoung and point to the different colored roses. 

“Uh, they’re nice,” Jinyoung doesn’t seem too committed to your search, but you pay that no mind. You have one goal: do not get fired. Actually, no. You have a second goal: get Darryl fired. 

You pluck a red rose (love) and a burgundy rose (unconscious beauty) out of their respective buckets. Holding them up next to Jinyoung, you try to envision the book cover. But instead of seeing Jinyoung with rose petals raining down around him, you see Yoongi sprawled out across your bed with petals scattered around him.

Not the time, (y/n)! 

Oh, god. The time!

You quickly grab the entire bucket of red roses and gesture for Jinyoung to grab the burgundy rose bucket. “We’ll get both and figure it out later,” You say, moving onwards towards the counter. Jinyoung follows you obediently. 

When you make it to the counter, you both plop the buckets down. 

“Couldn’t have just one, huh?” 

You and Jinyoung jump as Yoongi appears from behind you as he rounds the counter. 

“Had to take them both?” He continues, his expressionless face is worrisome. But, you do not have the time to analyze it or his confusing words right now.

“Uh, yeah? Yoongi, listen, we’re really late, and I need to pay quickly. I can explain later. Please.”

Your voice cracks on your last word, and Yoongi’s blank expression softens slightly as he sighs, “Okay, (y/n).” He accepts your credit card that you have outstretched to him and rings your flowers up.

“Thank you, Yoongi. You’re a lifesaver,” You say in a tiny voice, going to grab your wallet when you realize you don’t actually have cash on you right now. You’ll have to come back later.

“Yeah, thanks, man,” Jinyoung says, giving Yoongi that classic headnod that ‘bros’ do. 

Yoongi shoots Jinyoung one of the iciest glares you have ever seen; and yet, somehow, Jinyoung just smiles without a care. 

“You’re welcome, (y/n),” Yoongi replies, handing you back your card along with the receipt. “Oh, I also have flowers for you - for both of you.” He snags two different flowers from the shelf behind the counter and holds one out to each of you.

You accept the pretty white flower which Yoongi calls a polyanthus lily (pleasures that inevitably cause pain), while Jinyoung gingerly accepts a cluster of smaller yellow flowers. Yoongi smugly declares them to be tansies (I declare war against you). 

Thanking Yoongi again, you rush out of the shop with a bucket of roses in your hands and a model hot on your heels. You have a shoot to save and a bone to pick. It is time to get shit done.

Seven exhausting hours later, you emerge from your workplace with a sense of bitter accomplishment. Your shoot with Jinyoung had gone as well as it could have given the circumstances.

You and Mina had gotten as creative as you could have with the hundred roses you had bought from Of Fern & Freesia. You had showered Jinyoung in rose petals, you had made him place a rose between his teeth, and you had him extend one flower out like the Bachelor.

God, if you hadn’t been half in love with your flower boy you might have kissed Jinyoung for being such a good sport. Instead, you had settled for personally calling his agency to sing his praises and for making a note to send him a bonus.

Another win had come later this afternoon when you had been lucky enough to bear witness to Darryl’s termination. Your boss had been horrified to hear about Darryl’s fuckup and about all of the other bullshit he had put you through. As it turns out, she had already been keeping tabs on him for similar suspicions and this had been all the evidence she needed to seal the deal.

The look on Darryl’s face had been life changing. It had carried you through the last few hours of editing and arranging the final book cover proposal.

And so, finally, you drag your tired ass back to Of Fern & Freesia to both tip Yoongi for earlier and to give an explanation for the brevity of your afternoon visit. That is, if he is even still working at this hour. The shop is nearing its close, and you just hope you aren’t too late.

The bell chiming is the only sound that greets your ears as you enter the shop. The place is absent of the customers who usually roam around the aisles, examining flowers. Undeterred, you walk towards the back of the shop.

Yoongi is slouched over the counter, typing away furiously on his phone. He doesn’t look up as you approach as it seems he’s lost in his own virtual world.

“Paging florist Yoongi,” You call softly and smile as Yoongi is finally the one to get jumpy.

“Yah,” He cries, slapping a hand to his heart, “What are you trying to do, woman?”

“I’m trying to greet you, duh,” You roll your eyes, biting back a grin. 

“All alone this time?” Yoongi sets his phone on the counter, turning his full attention - and sass - to you.

“Alone? Please,” You scoff, “My FBI agent is surely tailing me somewhere nearby.”

“There goes that mouth,” Yoongi mutters darkly, his eyes dropping to your lips for a split second. He leans closer to you over the counter, “Tell me, (y/n)... Does your boyfriend like it when you talk back like that, too? Or is that all that attitude just for me?”

You mirror his actions, leaning over the counter and bringing your face closer to his. “He would like it... If he existed.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen slightly before narrowing, “Really? Then who was that boy you came in here with earlier? So you’re saying that you hold hands and buy flowers with just anyone?” His attention on you is hard and absolute, but you don’t flinch. 

You lean closer, lips only an inch or two away from his. “Hm,” You say, in mock confusion, “I didn’t realize that the last Daylight Savings had shifted us all the way back to the 14th century. Oh, wait. It’s still 2020, and I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

Before you can blink, Yoongi’s hands shoot out to cradle your face and his lips are on yours. A gasp slips between your lips, and Yoongi takes advantage of your shock to slip his tongue into your mouth, tasting you. He pulls back slightly, his lips brushing yours as he mutters, “You are so goddamn infuriating. You walk around here looking like a fucking thirst trap when I have to be Professional Yoongi™, and then you say these absurd things that only make me want you more, and then you show up at my music show and almost make me forget every word I have ever known, and now the only melodies and lyrics that run through my brain relate to you, and so I am just losing my goddamn mind over you—”

You kiss him. “Shut up, you giant adorable idiot,” You mumble against his lips, “And for the record, I liked you first.”

Yoongi pulls away from you and shakes his head, “No way, babe. I’ve liked you since the moment I saw you standing at this counter for the first time last month.” 

You cross your arms, “Oh yeah? Well, I’ve liked you since you walked out of that back room right there to help me for the first time last month. So, it looks like we’re even.” 

“Even?” Yoongi grins, ducking down to pull something off the shelf below the counter. “That’s cute. But, I win,” He straightens, placing a bigger tip jar that you’ve never seen before onto the counter between you. Slowly, he turns it around so that the post-it note attached to it is displayed for you: “Cute girl (Y/n) and Yoongi’s Date Fund”. 

“Wow, am I not cute anymore?” You joke, looking up at Yoongi who rolls his eyes.

“That was before I knew your name, babe, and (y/n) is too beautiful a name not to be written at every opportunity.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. Your cheeks flush traitorously as you smile, “You’re so full of shit, Min Yoongi.”

“Am not,” He argues, moving around the counter over to your side. Just when you think he’s trying to get closer to you, he moves past you.

“Where are you going?” You trail after him, pausing when you notice he’s pulled a ring of keys from his pocket. Your eyes widen to their full extent as you watch him lock up the shop and flip around the sign to read: “Closed”.

Yoongi turns back around. “Come here, (y/n),” He says, his voice deep, his lips tugging into a smirk. 

You resort to your instinctual reaction whenever someone issues you an order, “Make me.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Yoongi prowls towards you. You back up with every step he takes, and before you know it, your back is up against the counter. Yoongi’s arms cage you in on either side of your body. He’s so close. The heat from his body sears into you and you think you might just faint from proximity.

“What do you want from me?” You whisper as Yoongi’s head dips to place soft kisses along your neck.

“I want you,” He says without a pause or hesitation, “In any way you’ll give me.”

“And would I get you in return?” You sigh as Yoongi sucks lightly on the skin right below your ear.

You feel his smile before he answers, “Babe, you already have me.”

Your heart swells. He is yours. But in true (y/n) fashion you cannot help but to fuck with him further, “Ah, well that just disincentivizes giving myself to you. Since I already have you, why should I let you have me?”

Yoongi bites your neck lightly in response to your teasing, and you are too surprised to catch the moan before it winds its way out of your mouth. “Fuck, baby, I need to hear you make that sound again,” Yoongi growls, his hands gripping your thighs before lifting you onto the counter. “Let me have you,” He begs, pulling his head back to stare at you. His pupils are so blown out, and you are certain yours are the same way.

His hands are still gripping your thighs as you clench them together as best you can with Yoongi in between. 

“Oh,” Yoongi murmurs, looking too pleased, “Is my baby desperate for my touch already?”

“Puh-lease,” You reply, “Don’t act like you aren’t hard as fuck right now, Min.” 

“That’s besides the point. I’ve been hard for you since you walked in here in that tight as fuck skirt and those fucking heels,” Yoongi scowls. “And then you had the audacity to take your hair down like some sort of seductress. I had to jerk off like three times that night.”

“Oh,” You grin evilly, “You mean… like this?” You reach up to pull the pencil out of your topknot, successfully sending your hair tumbling down your shoulders. You shake your head slightly to help the strands settle and bask in Yoongi’s dark expression complete with clenched jaw.

“That’s it,” Yoongi’s hands slide under your thighs, and suddenly you are thrown over his shoulder.

“Yoongi!” You cry as he carries you into the back room of the shop.

“Shut it, you,” Yoongi spanks your ass once, and you let out a tiny squeak before you are set down on a marble island amidst a room full of flowers, ribbons, and anything even remotely related to bouquet-making. 

You’re too distracted by the beauty that surrounds you to notice that Yoongi is grabbing something from a nearby shelf. He returns to stand in front of you once more. “Let me taste you,” He says as if he’s asking for the time of day. 

“If you must,” You feign indifference, but your smile betrays you.

“Clothes off,” Yoongi says, his voice deeper than you’ve ever heard it. You don’t think twice before stripping out of your blouse and unbuttoning your dark jeans.

“You’re gonna have to help me, Yoongi,” You sigh as you stare down at the lack of room Yoongi is giving you to stand to take off your pants.

“It would be my honor,” Yoongi replies, and you groan at his dramatics. “Ass up,” He commands. You lean back onto your elbows and lift your ass up so that he can take your jeans off successfully.

“Damn, baby,” His eyes burn into you as he takes in the sight of your body covered just barely by your lace bra and panties. Tugging a scrap of ribbon from his pocket, Yoongi approaches you, “Can I blindfold you?”

“Kinky,” You breathe, nodding. Yoongi grins and gently ties the soft ribbon around your head, effectively surrounding you in darkness.

“Lay back,” He murmurs. You do so, shivering slightly as your skin meets the coolness of the marble. A soft kiss is placed to your cheek before you feel a brush of something else cross your neck.

You gasp as what you can only imagine could be a flower is dragged along your body, dipping in between your breasts, down across your stomach, ghosting over your hips. All of your senses are buzzing, hyper-aware of everything but your sight.

And so when you feel a finger slowly stroke you over your panties, you let out a gasp. “Yoongi,” You moan, your hips shifting in vain to bring his hand closer.

“Say my name again,” He growls, and you hear a snip along with a quick touch of metal.

“Yoongi,” You chastise, “Did you just fucking cut my underwear off?”

“Hm, not quite the tone I was asking for but it’ll do,” The grin is apparent in his voice and you open your mouth to lay into him when his tongue slides between your folds.

“Fuck,” You sigh, your hand winding down your body to clutch at his hair, “Yoongi, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Yoongi mumbles, and then you are suddenly moved closer to the edge of the island and his mouth is on you.

His lips kiss over every inch of your pussy, his tongue flicks out every so often to drag over your clit. It’s slow and torturously sweet. Your back arches as Yoongi suddenly sucks lightly at your swollen bud. 

“Yoongi.” 

That sets him off. You feel Yoongi’s finger tease your entrance, lightly pushing in and out as his mouth continues to suck and caress your pussy.

“Please.”

His finger sinks into you, and you curse, moaning Yoongi’s name as he continues to push in and out of you. Though your vision is taken, you begin to see white as you hurtle towards the precipice.

Another finger is thrust inside you and you cry out. “Fuck, baby,” Yoongi growls, “You are so wet for me, so tight, so delicious. Tell me when you’re close. I want you to come in my mouth.”

Fuck, he’s filthy. You think you might love him.

“I’m already close, you little shit,” You groan as he sucks your clit harshly, making you somehow see stars.

Yoongi immediately switches things up, his tongue sinks inside you as his fingers rub your clit in quick, light circles.

You come with a scream, feeling Yoongi sucking and lapping up everything you give him. He carries you through your orgasm, and finally you sink back onto the marble.

And then you rip off the blindfold.

“My turn!” You grin, blinking furiously as your eyes readjust to the light of the room. You sit up. Yoongi is still kneeling between your legs, gazing up at you with wet lips and a feral expression.

“Your turn?” He arches an eyebrow and stands. You take advantage of his movements and hop down off the island.

“Those are the words that came out of my mouth, yes,” You throw his own words from a few days ago back in his face.

You can tell he remembers when he laughs slightly, his eyes crinkling adorably. 

“Now get naked, Min Yoongi,” You command, unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the ground.

Yoongi groans at the sight of you and then whips his shirt off, throwing it at you.

Laughing, you catch it and chuck it to the side. Before you know it, Yoongi stands naked before you. His torso is also covered in ink, his nipples are pierced, his cock is hard.

You slowly walk over to him, excited by how the tables have turned now. “Blindfold?” You ask, dangling the satin ribbon in front of you.

He shakes his head swiftly, “No, I need to see you.”

You grab his cock and revel in the hiss of breath he sucks in, “Baby boy, I don't think you understand who is in charge here.”

“Fuck,” He moans, both at your words and at the slow movements of your hand along his length. 

“Now, since you made me come particularly hard, I’m going to give you another option: I tie your wrists.”

Yoongi looks pissed, “I have to pick one?” 

You take your hand away, and he caves instantly. “Fine! Tie my wrists.”

“Good boy,” You smirk, “Now lay on the island like I just did.” You watch as he listens, grumbling all the while about how he wanted to touch you and how this was some bullshit. He’d learn.

Finally, Yoongi is in position and gives out a big sigh like he just went through so much effort. So extra.

You make quick work of his wrists, tying them above his head loosely. “Let me know it gets to be too much for you, okay?” You kiss him softly and swiftly and smile as he tries to chase your lips as you pull back.

You hop onto the island and slowly kneel over Yoongi. Your knees are on either side of his calves as you lean down, arching your back so your ass is high in the air, and then you suck the tip of his cock into your mouth.

The moan that Yoongi emits is so sexy that you almost skip right to sitting on his dick - almost. Instead, you just speed up, swirling your tongue around him and cradling his balls in your palm.

“Fucking hell, baby,” Yoongi rasps out, his eyes squeezed shut, “Your fucking mouth.”

You smile around him and take him further inside your mouth. Yoongi chokes out more curses than you have ever heard before. And when you swallow around him, he groans, “I’m gonna come. Wanna come on your tits.”

You release him with a pop. “No,” You say, sitting back on your heels. 

Yoongi’s neck strains as he looks down at you, “Please, (y/n), baby, I need you. Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.” His head falls back as he smirks slightly, “I can’t believe that you just sucked my dick and that I actually got to eat you out just now. Damn, I don’t know how I got so lucky. Maybe I saved someone famous in my past life. Or maybe I was Spiderman—”

Moving quickly, you settle further up his body, hovering over his cock. Your hand covers Yoongi’s mouth. “Are you malfunctioning? Oh my god, I broke you. And to think I was going to sit on your dick next… That’s too bad. I don't think you can handle it.”

His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates as he stares up at you, “Mmph!” His words are muffled by your palm.

“What’s that?” You tease, leaning down to slowly suck on his nipple, swirling the piercing around with your tongue. “You still want me to?”

This time, you remove your hand so he can reply fully. As soon as your palm leaves, Yoongi cries, “Please, please, please, baby. Take me inside you. I’ll make you feel good, I promise!” 

“Well,” You straighten, grabbing his cock and lining him up with your entrance, “Since you asked so nicely.”

Slowly, you sink down. Inch by inch you watch as Yoongi’s face scrunches up as he murmurs your name like a prayer. Finally, you take him all the way inside. “Well, how does it feel, baby?” You grin.

“Like fucking heaven,” He groans, his fists clenching above him as he tries to thrust into you as best he can.

“Relax, baby,” You place a palm on his chest, “Let me take care of you.” With that, you begin to move. Your hips swivel slowly at first and then pick up the pace. You feel him twitching inside you and you know that he’s already close from how well you sucked him off earlier.

You ride him hard, sliding up and down his hard cock and watching his face as you ruin him. His breathing is harsh and his legs begin shaking beneath you, “Fuck, shit, damn, baby, please.”

His words are a garbled mess as you clench down around him, beginning to feel your own orgasm rising. “Don’t you dare come yet, Min Yoongi,” You hiss, leaning back slightly to take him deeper.

“Baby-y, please.” You watch enraptured as a tear slips out of his eye. Yoongi’s abs are clenching and you know he is so fucking close to coming. 

“Look at me,” You order, sliding a hand down your body to circle your clit. He listens and groans immediately at the sight of you.

“Watching you ride me makes me want to come even more!” He whines, but nevertheless keeps his eyes on you. You smile and moan softly as you continue to ride him, flicking your clit between your fingers. You’re close now. 

Your movements become frantic as you bounce on his cock, your hips shifting over his. You hurtle towards your climax and you tighten around him, “Come.”

Immediately, you feel him come inside you, painting your walls and filling you with warmth. You light up as you come for the second time that night, your walls pulsing around his cock, milking him. 

Yoongi is undone underneath you, his head is thrown back, throat on full display. He is muttering something about the sweetest pussy ever and wedding rings. And he looks so good that you can't resist laying down on top of him, kissing his neck. “You good, baby boy?” You smile in between kisses.

“I think you did break me,” He mumbles, his hands settling on your hips. Wait a second…

“How did you untie yourself?” You pout, relaxing into Yoongi’s chest as his hands rub your ass.

“Silk is slippery, babe,” You can practically hear his grin, “But not as slippery as your pus—”

“Min Yoongi!” You cry, hopping off of him. He whines as he slips out of you but then licks his lips as he notices his own cum dripping down your legs. 

“Come here,” He crooks a finger at you.

“Make me,” You retort once again, smirking slightly. 

He groans, “I don't think I can even move right now if I wanted to. But come on, sit on my face.”

“Wow, such language!” You slap a hand over your heart, “My delicate ears will never recover!”

“You’re the worst,” Yoongi laughs, easing up to sit. “Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard.”

“Nice,” You nod proudly, “Leave that review on Yelp, please.”

His dark eyes narrow, “Who else is leaving reviews, (y/n)?” 

Laughing, you tug on Yoongi’s discarded t-shirt, “Oh, you know, the rest of my harem of flower boys.”

“What!” Yoongi makes a miraculous recovery as he jumps off the island and tugs you to him, “I’m your flower boy, baby. You’ll never need anyone else.”

Smiling widely up at him, you simply reply, “Okay, bloomer.”

a/n: flower meanings sourced from: The Complete Language of Flowers: A Definitive and Illustrated History by S. Theresa Dietz AND The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh [again, meanings differ depending on the source!)

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Important asset [Billy Russo x Reader]

Title: Important asset Pairing: Billy Russo x Female!Reader Word count: 3k Published: 22 April 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: My first Billy Russo fic, I hope it's not that bad, I'm still trying to get a hold of his character :) Summary: [x] Being a former military personal gives you the opportunity to work for Billy’s company. Becoming a very important part of the company provides you with an even closer relationship with your boss. However, he seems to be deliberately dancing on your nerves, increasing your already built-up frustration.

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Working for Anvil felt like a safe place. After serving your country for years, coming back from your last tour turned out to be more difficult than you could have anticipated. Protecting important personals and working as security wasn’t something you wished to do, but after starting the job, working along with people who have been through what you have, your view of the company has changed. The job was different, but the people you worked with have given you more support than anyone, including your family, friends or your therapist for that matter.

Joining Anvil wasn’t easy, the requirement process raised some issues that you had to overcome. The physical part didn’t offer any difficulty, but the mental exam seemed to present some obstacles. It wasn’t until your second try that you have been approved and joined the team. That was when you met Mr. Russo, CEO and founder of Anvil. He was just as handsome as you have heard, and he had a way with words. He was confident and knew just how to use his charm. Even if you wanted to deny your sudden interest in him, you couldn’t have.

It seemed that even if he didn’t look at you as a woman, he certainly found your abilities interesting. You didn’t just become one with the team, a crucial member, but also became one of Billy’s most important assets. Having both good communications skills and excellent combat skills meant your worth in Billy’s eyes have grown and provided a great deal of opportunity for you to stay beside him. Officially you weren’t an assistant, but unofficially, Billy liked to give you a nice amount of work, keeping you close by from early morning to late afternoon or evening, sometimes past 10pm.

“Mr. Russo,” you called out to him as you walked behind him in a narrow corridor of the Anvil headquarters. Billy turned around, adjusting his tie with a confident smirk across his face. “I heard you were looking for me,” you added as you finally arrived beside him, glancing up at his handsome features, looking very professional in his expensive suit. You wanted to look feminine and pretty, instead of being dirty and sweaty, wearing a pair of tracksuits, but sometimes your work required you to look more worn out than you wished to be. He had a certain aura that kept pulling you towards him, but as confident as you were in your abilities to protect your country and your people, you were just as uncertain about your appearance when you appeared in front of Billy.

“Yes, I have. Care to explain why I can't reach you on your phone?” He asked, his features unimpressed with your lack of availability.

“I was training, I can’t possibly bring my phone with me everywhere,” you replied frowning, but you quickly adjusted your expressions, before he could have scolded you. It was clear that he wasn’t happy with your reply, but he dismissed it after all.

“Come to my office at 1700 hours. I have a couple things to discuss with you,” he replied in an authoritative manner.

“I have to train the new recruits at 4,” you explained, but he just shook his head.

“Ask someone to replace you,” he stated firmly, accepting no objection. But you took your job very seriously and even though Billy was your boss, often you found yourself going against his decisions just to spite him.

“I can’t do that,” you stated, lips pursed to emphasise your objection. “There’s no one to cover me,” you added. His firm stance and sharp inhale reassured you that he was anything but happy with your answer. He took a step forward, forcing you to take a step back and collide with the wall behind you. Your chest felt as though it was a small box, containing only a small portion of oxygen, its lack of tightened your throat, starting your heart off in a dangerous pace, pounding hard against your ribcage. Billy’s presence always made you feel as though you couldn’t breathe. A simple gaze in your direction, a confident grin, his low, deep voice calling your name made you weak at the knees and left your mind wandering to paths you should have never gone to, causing thousands of butterflies to erupt in your belly.

“I’m your boss and I can change your schedule whenever I want to. I want to see you in my office at 1700 sharp, or else—” he didn’t finish the end of his sentence, but you were sure his ideas were entirely different from yours.

“Or else—?” It escaped your mouth involuntarily, receiving a low growl from Billy, a threatening aura, still it didn’t frighten you, if anything it encouraged you further. “I think we both know you will not fire me, Mr. Russo. I’m a very important asset to your company. I am a very dedicated employee and therefore I will try to adjust my schedule to fit your request, but I cannot promise anything, unless you personally can provide someone to take over from me,” you replied in a challenging manner, earning a questioningly raised brow from Billy. Trying to read his face you couldn’t decide if he was actually considering helping you or he was planning how to murder you in the spot.

A heavy sigh left his lungs, but he didn’t back away. “I will send Simon to cover you,” he said between gritted teeth.

“That is absolutely brilliant, I’m so glad we are on the same page,” you exclaimed with a wide grin across your face as you turned around to leave the man behind. However, before you could have left, he grabbed your arm and pulled you back against him, your palms landing on his hard chest, feeling every inch of each fine muscle under your touch.

“Pay attention to your attitude because it has gotten out of hands recently and you are standing on a very fine line,” he whispered, his breath tickling your cheeks. Indeed, you have been rather free with your words and actions around Billy, and you knew you were playing with fire, but it seemed that was the only way to get his attention.

“I might be pushing some boundaries, but my only intention is for the company to work effectively, to produce people that do their tasks efficiently meanwhile wearing Anvil’s name with pride. If I neglect my duties and ignore my job, even if it’s for your request, what use am I to the company?” you asked with a certain pride. Whilst your intention was to object to Billy once again, to be somewhat bratty, every word that left your lips were true. Anvil has given you more than you could have ever wished for and not even Billy could stop you from making this company one of the most well-working organisations.

Billy took a sharp inhale, trying to decide whether you were just being spoilt once again, because you were indeed aware of your own worth, or if the company really took priority in your eyes. His nod reassured you of the latter as he let go of your arm.

“I like the way you are thinking, but it doesn’t excuse your attitude. You are an important asset to the company, but not irreplaceable. By the time you come to see me in the afternoon, try to get rid of it,” he spoke sternly, before he shook his head and offered you a cocky grin as he turned around and left you in the corridor. You couldn’t stop the tiny smile from appearing in the corner of your lips, his expression reassured you that you were anything but invisible in his eyes.

As you were leading a shooting session for your team, Billy interrupted your practice, clearing his throat whilst leaning against the doorframe, watching your people. You looked at your watch, afraid of being late, but according to your time, you weren’t even anywhere near the time you were supposed to be in his office.

“Keep practising,” you instructed them as you walked back to Billy, whose arms were folded in front of his chest, his eyes following every step you took towards him. “Is everything okay?” you asked as you stopped in front of him.

“Hmm,” he replied with a simple hum and a single nod. He seemed to have something on his mind, and you were sure he would soon voice his opinion. Biting his lip, he grimaced slightly. “Your team needs more practice,” he added nonchalantly. Your eyes widened and you quickly turned around to check on the targets. Indeed, there were some errors, but you were overall satisfied with their performance, they were former members of the US Armed Forces after all. Inhaling sharply, you turned back to him, staring at his expressionless face.

“Is this really why you came here?” You asked with a questioningly raised brow.

“I was just wondering how useful you are to the company since you have been walking around voicing your importance. Just like you did in the morning, if I recall correctly,” he shrugged casually.

“Let me see if I understand. After all I have done for the company and for you, now you are checking on my people and my progress, questioning how much we are worth to your goddamn company?” You hissed in anger. Billy seemed to be on a roll attempting to piss you off at any given time. Usually, you could keep your act together, but he has done nothing but insulted you that day and he was very close to reaching your limits. You stared into his eyes and in the lowest, most threatening tone you could manage, you continued. “Listen to me Russo, I can take a lot, I’m quite a resilient person, but I’m very close to walking out of here and never coming back. If you would like me to leave then say it, but if not and you would like me to keep working for you, then let me do my job and leave me alone for the rest of the day,” you exhaled sharply and after a deadly gaze directed at your boss, you turned away and joined your team. Your blood was boiling from the amount of anger he could bring out in you, as if he found your frustration entertaining. Although you expected him to come after you and give you a monologue about humbling yourself, by the time you looked back towards the entrance, he was long gone.

It was already 5pm and Simon was nowhere to be found. You instructed the new recruits to take a 5-minute break from the exercises you have given them as you rocked from one leg to the other trying to calm yourself, slowly exhaling and inhaling. Preparing for the scolding you were about to receive from Billy, your blood pressure had risen. You groaned as you saw Simon run through the door, heavily apologising for his lateness. Shaking your head, you walked up to him and instructed him about the details of the recruits’ further training. By the time you were supposed to be in Billy’s office, you were jogging across the narrow corridors of Anvil, trying to minimise the nagging Billy was about to give you for not arriving in time.

“You are late,” you heard his voice as you opened the door, grimacing at the harsh tone. Billy didn’t even look up from his desk, his eyes were attached to the paperwork he was signing off.

“Not my fault,” you added, walking up to the table and sitting down across Billy.

“I told you to be precise,” he groaned, unhappy about your lateness.

“Next time send someone who actually appears in time,” you retorted, feeling fed up with his continued scolding.

“Once again you have that attitude,” he cleared his throat in frustration.

“Russo!” You shot up from your chair, placing your hands on his paperwork, staring straight into his eyes. “I’m aware that I have a slight problem with my attitude, but I don’t think it’s fair that you blame me for something I had no say in. You have asked Simon to replace me, still at 5pm sharp I was still in the training hub alone with the recruits, because he was late,” you replied firmly.

“I don’t think I have asked for an excuse, so why do I have to listen?” He asked with a deep frown, slowly standing up from his chair, his stance projecting authority. But at that moment, you couldn’t care less. Your blood was rushing through your veins, your built-up frustration threatening to reveal itself. As if Billy’s mere purpose was to dance on your nerves. And he was successful.

“Billy,” you called his first name with clenched teeth. You have gotten used to calling him Mr. Russo or Russo, even though you were close to each other. However recently he has been deliberately annoying you and you couldn’t take it anymore. Indeed, you wanted to get some kind of reaction out of him with your brattiness, but receiving the same attitude didn’t seem that entertaining. You knew you were supposed to be professional when you were working, even though he made it his mission to piss you off, but you just lost your self-control. “I have done nothing for this company but work my ass off to help you. When you asked, I had to be at two even three places at the same time. I have no life, because every single free time and day off I’m supposed to be having, I have to spend here to help you. I don’t mind, because I love working here and I want to make this company a better place. But you are the one talking about my attitude, even though I have never asked for anything in return?! Have I ever asked for a raise even if you dumped hours of work on me? You keep me here from early morning to late evening and I’ve never once complained, still you dare to talk about my attitude? Please, tell me what your problem is with me, because recently I feel like it’s your mission to get on my nerves. At this point the only thing I can think of is that you want me to quit because that’s the kind of hostility that comes across from you,” you huffed releasing all your frustration on your boss.

“You—” he wanted to speak up, but you didn’t let him. It was your time to talk, and you didn’t even give him a chance to object.

“No, I’m speaking,” you interrupted him, earning a sharp inhale from the man. “I understand that I’m only a mere subordinate, and I know I should not have the attitude that I do take on sometimes, but I am still a human and I don’t have to deal with your moodiness on a daily basis,” you hissed. “Tell me honestly, is it your mission to get me to quit? Because at this point you are very close to forcing me to resign and—” you had no way to finish the sentence as Billy grabbed the back of your neck and pulled your lips against his, earning a moan from you. He only let go of you for a second to get around the table, his movements quick as though he was a lion hunting down his prey. He attached his lips to yours once again, pushing you up on the table and positioning himself between your thighs. He sneaked his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, his other hand firmly holding you close to him by the back of your neck, wanting nothing but to reduce the proximity between the two of you.

“Do you ever shut up?” He asked, breathing heavily against your lips. “I hear nothing but your continuous yapper,” he groaned as he laid his forehead against yours, massaging random patterns on your thigh. “Why on earth do you think I have given you so much job to do, you dumb woman? Can you be any more oblivious? I didn’t just dump all those random tasks on you and left you to do them, did I? I stayed behind with you, isn’t that, right?” he asked through gritted teeth. “You really know how to get on my nerves, and this certainly isn’t how I imagined this to come out, but you make it impossible for me to keep my cool,” he inhaled slowly, forcefully pulling you closer to him as he stood between your legs, making you moan at the contact. “I’m going to give you two options now,” he stated as he took a step back, giving you space to think. You can walk out that door, act like nothing happened and we will go back to being a boss and an employee. Or you can stay, and we continue what we started. But then there’s no turning back. I don’t just let go of what’s mine,” for a moment you ran the options through a logical part of your mind, that screamed for you to walk out the door. But you couldn’t possibly listen to the voice when you could finally be Billy’s after you have done so much for the man you longed for.

You grabbed his belt and pulled him between your legs, whispering against his lips. “Close that door,” Billy’s jaw clenched and without a second to waste he stood by the door, locking it behind him and getting back to you in haste, capturing your lips with his hands exploring every part of your body.

“So, have I become irreplaceable now?” You asked with a proud, overly confident grin as his hands tried to remove your shirt impatiently. His eyes darkened at your words, his hands stopping mid-air.

“Don’t get cocky with me,” he groaned, grabbing your jaw and connecting your lips once again, trying to get you out of your clothes. Whatever Billy called you for was long forgotten for the rest of the evening, you were busier with each other’s company.

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[hxlyhead-harpies]

Ivy (R.L.)

Evermore

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: The reader is trapped in a loveless and neglectful arranged marriage. She hires her old school crush, Remus Lupin, to tutor her son

Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of abuse, the reader is a mother, cheating, angst

Word Count: 4.9k

A/n: i am actually so so proud of this so um i hope you like it

Your life was nothing but a monotonous cycle of sameness, every day identical to the one before. Every day you awoke to a cold and empty bed, your silk sheets barren of who should be a loving husband. And every day you sat by your bay window with a cup of tea, leaving it unsipped until it became cold. You watched your son stumble around the manor, his tiny legs still clumsy like a newborn foal. You painted or read to bide your time, hoping to make the long hours go faster, but they never did. Nearly six years of this routine but no part of you longed to break free from it. 

You had been bred for this life since you had sprung into existence. You came from a prominent pureblood family and you were taught your place early on. You were to be silent and polite and you must not speak unless spoken to. It didn’t matter your intelligence or wit, you were nothing but a commodity with good posture and acceptable table manners. You were a pawn in your father’s chess game, something to be used for business deals and backdoor dealings. Your existence was for the purpose of your father’s advancement in pureblood society and nothing more. 

For a while you had wanted more, to be free and to have agency and choice. Back when you were in school you were exposed to ideas beyond blood supremacy and submission. You let yourself dream of a life away from your family and their ideals, where you could have your own free thought and you could love whom you chose, but the fantasy didn’t last much longer than your third year. 

When you had dared to voice your opinions one day during the summer holiday you were swiftly met with the back of your father’s hand. Your life quickly began to consist of long sleeve jumpers to conceal bruises and nights where your supper was withheld. You quickly resigned to the life you had always been told you’d have. 

You thought about running away and starting a new life away from the toxicity that oozed from the windows of your childhood home. But you were often reminded of what happened to daughters who disobeyed; you’d be subjected to a life of destitution.

So you did as you were told, obliging to the word of your father and keeping your head down. Of course, you still held your own ideas close to your heart; you didn’t believe in the sickening rhetoric that was blood supremacy, but you couldn’t tell anyone that for the sake of your safety. 

You were seventeen when you had gotten betrothed to Humphrey. It was your seventh year at Hogwarts and you had gotten a letter in mid-march informing you of your own engagement. He was your father’s business partner and eleven years your senior. He was cold and serious. Something about the way he had a perpetually raised brow and a scowl made your stomach drop. You had cried yourself to sleep that night, any remnants of your fantasy finally shattering in the clutches of your fiance. 

And now here you sat, six years later, your cup of tea cooling in your hands as your son asked questions you didn’t know the answer to. Every young wizard went through this phase, wondering why the lights would flicker when they were angry or why sometimes they could do things that they didn’t understand. Your son knew that he was a wizard, but his young mind couldn’t quite grasp what that meant. When you were his age, you had a governess who explained these things to you as well as taught you other things like basic arithmetic and history. You desperately wished that you could find someone, maybe a tutor, who could teach your son. 

Your child, Montgomery, was inquisitive and wild. He was named after his great uncle but detested the name, preferring to be playfully called Monty instead. He was born to be the picture of a perfect pureblood son, but he was wild and untamed no matter how hard you tried. You were afraid of how his father would treat him as he grew, and you were desperate to temper him.

That night at dinner you sat at the head of the table, Monty next to you, and your husband at the other end. It often felt as if there was an impossible distance between the two of you, a distance that could never be crossed. You rarely truly felt like his wife, usually only feeling like an employee in your own home. You poked at your meal for a while, chiding your son to eat his vegetables. In the darkness that shrouded your home, Monty was your only source of light. If you were to go on like this it would be for him. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to raise the question. 

“Would it be alright if we hired a tutor for Monty?” you asked, “I had one when I was his age and I just think that it would be the proper thing to do.” Humphrey sighed and placed down his spoon, it clanking harshly against the rim of his bowl.

“Montgomery,” he corrected harshly. You swallowed thickly and nodded, avoiding his gaze. “And I suppose it would be a good idea,” he said, “We want him to be top of his class when he arrives at Hogwarts.” You nodded quickly, knowing that agreeing with him was the fastest way to get what you wanted. Humphrey thought for a moment before resuming his dinner. 

“You can pick out his tutor, just inform me when his lessons have started,” he said before going back to ignoring your presence. A sense of pride filled you at his words; it was rare you ever had a say in any of the decisions made around the house and the prospect of having a voice sent a shock of happiness down your spine. This single act of agency was not real freedom, but you would revel in pretending that it was. 

You sifted through ads in the Prophet and inquired with other mothers. You were hesitant to call them your friends as they held the same ideals as your husband, but they were the women you’d be forced to have tea with during business meetings. None of the names that came up seemed quite right. As a last resort, you sent an owl to your old professor, Professor McGonagall. She had been your favorite teacher back at school and you still kept in touch occasionally. When you were a teenager McGonagall tried relentlessly to help you see your potential, but you just brushed her off, knowing that you’d never be allowed to have a career once you were married. 

McGonagall’s response was swift, an owl knocking on the library window only a few hours later. 

The letter opened with her usual greeting, her insistence that you call her Minerva and not Professor. She offered up a name that made you pause. 

Remus Lupin. You could understand why she would suggest this name. He had been top of your class in school and a prefect. He had even tutored you once and had proven himself to be quite the teacher. You knew he was more than capable but his name still caused you to pause.

You had been absolutely infatuated with Remus when you were an awkward sixteen year old. He was handsome and smart and he was nothing short of gentle when he spent late nights in the library trying to teach you astronomy. Something about his hazel eyes and boyish smile had made your heart pound in your ears and your palms sweaty. But you never let yourself dwell on your feelings too much; you knew you’d be married shortly after you graduated and your father would not take too kindly to you dating anyone, especially a halfblood. So you had pushed the feelings aside and forced yourself to forget. Yet here you were, years later, and the shape of his name still caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. 

You wanted so desperately to write back to Minerva and ask for his address, to send him a letter requesting his services, and to let him into your home. But you were afraid of what would happen if you did. You had spent so long trying to push away the stirrings in the back of your mind and ignore any inkling of restlessness. You feared that welcoming this man into your house would only ignite these feelings to a point where you couldn’t avoid them anymore.

But still, Monty needed a tutor and you knew that Remus Lupin was a damn good one. You sent an owl to Minerva asking how to contact him. 

The first day the Remus was meant to come to your house you were a ball of nerves. Monty was excited, yearning to learn and to meet this new person. But you were anxious about seeing him after all these years. You couldn’t be sure that he even remembered you. His time tutoring you had been brief, though you held that short time together close to your heart. 

You found yourself putting on your favorite clothes, feeling desperate to put up a good front, hoping the clothes would mask your unhappiness. The cream shirt and long navy shirt helped you play the role of a doting wife well, just old fashioned enough to make most believe that you agreed with this life. You tied back your hair with a silk ribbon before heading down to the front hall. You had nothing better to do than wait for him.

A heavy knock finally filled the empty halls of your home signaling you to his arrival. You called out for Monty before you walked to the door and opened it gently. 

You shyly looked around the edge of the door, meeting his eyes. It took everything in you to suppress some sort of physical reaction as you took in his appearance. The years had surely treated him well. His hair was longer now, curlier too, and his freckled skin adorned a few new scars. It was snowing lightly outside and snowflakes sat in his bronze curls. But his hazel eyes still shone at you warmly, and his small smile was familiar and dimpled. He looked older of course, slightly taller and with broader shoulders. He was wearing a beige shirt and a dark tie, a satchel slung over his shoulder, and a stack of books under his arm. 

You opened the door wider to allow him inside. “Hello, Mr. Lupin, I’m so glad you could make it,” you said softly, sticking out your hand. He quirked up an eyebrow and adjusted the books before reaching out his hand. His hands were cold and calloused as he placed his hand in yours, the contact sending a wave of warmth through your body. 

“You can call me Remus,” he said with an amused smile, “No need for the formality, it’s not like we haven’t met before.” You laughed softly at his comment, reluctantly pulling your hand away. 

“Of course, I wasn’t sure if you remembered,” you admitted, “May I take your coat?” Remus chuckled before shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. 

“How could I forget, charms was it?” he asked. You flushed at his comment but hid it by turning to place his coat in the closet on your right. 

“Astronomy,” you corrected. He hummed affirmatively before rocking back and forth on his heels. You composed yourself quickly before you turned back to him. “Let me show you the library,” you said finally. 

The two of you walked down the hall in silence as you made your way to the room you spent most of your time in. You heard him gasp as you pushed open the mahogany doors. The room was magnificent; books lining every wall from floor to ceiling. Your precious bay window let in natural light and the plush carpet muddled your steps as you walked in. There was a table by the window which you had designated for Remus’s lessons. You had placed some books, quills and parchment, and a globe on the surface. 

Remus’s mouth was wide as he took in the room. You shuffled awkwardly towards the table and his eyes finally landed on it. 

“I wasn’t sure what you needed so I just found a few things,” you said, gesturing to the makeshift desk. He gave you that lopsided smile again and your stomach erupted with butterflies. 

“It’s perfect, thank you,” he said. You felt yourself smile widely as you wrung your hands. Since you had gotten married it was rare that you received a compliment. Even as small and insignificant as his words were, you felt the warm caress of approval anyway.

Before you could say anything else Monty tumbled into the room. His shirt was rumpled and messy, half of it untucked. His hair was wild and his cheeks were red. It was clear that he had gotten into some sort of mischief before heading to the library. He barreled towards you and hugged your legs. 

“Hello dear,” you said affectionately, unable to contain the smile on your face as you smoothed down his hair. 

“Mum you will not believe what I found in the garden,” he said breathily, a gleam in his eye. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“You’ll have to tell me later, Mr. Lupin is here,” you said, nodding towards the man. Monty turned towards his tutor and smiled shyly, hiding behind your legs slightly. It was rare that he met new people as he spent most of his days cooped up at home. Remus didn’t seem phased by his shyness, only stepping closer and bending down slightly.

“Hi, Montgomery is it?” he asked softly, offering his hand for Monty to shake. He shook his head furiously before putting his tiny hand in Remus’s.

“My name is Monty,” he said proudly, giving Remus a firm handshake. Remus smiled brilliantly. 

“Okay Monty, you can call me Remus,” he replied. Monty slowly detached himself from your legs, heading towards the table with Remus. He smiled as he hopped up on his chair and spun the globe. You smiled as you watched them interact, Remus ever so gentle and warm. 

“Do you mind if I stay?” you asked suddenly. Remus looked up with raised eyebrows. “I’ll be quiet,” you promised, “I’ll just be reading.” You gestured towards the spot where you usually read. Remus smiled and nodded. You made yourself comfortable and opened your book. But you couldn’t quite focus on the words, your attention captivated only by Remus. 

That night you laid awake next to Humphrey, unable to sleep. Your mind was busy replaying every moment that Remus had been in your house. How enthusiastic he was about teaching and how tenderly he’d answer Monty’s questions. You thought of how he’d look over Monty’s head and give you a goofy smile when Monty would innocently ask a funny question and how he gave you a lingering handshake when he had left. 

Watching Remus teach became how you passed your hours away. You finally indulged yourself and wondered what it would be like if he felt the same as you. You often found yourself imagining a life where you ran away together, stealing Monty away from the virulent environment of your life. You imagined that you’d move to the city, somewhere near the friends he spoke of so fondly, or away to the countryside in a small cottage. Of course, the fantasy was dashed every time he left and you were once again left in your solitude, waiting for your husband to come home and ignore you as usual. You grieved for the relationship that could never be and the life you could never have.

You felt trapped, a feeling you had been trying to suppress for years. But you were married, a binding and final contract, so there was nothing for you to do. It was as if you were a Rapunzel, waiting in her tower. Only your prince never came to save you. Instead, he was your captor and key keeper. 

Your favorite part of your day soon became the stolen minutes before lessons began and the fleeting seconds after they ended. That was when you could be alone with Remus, learning more about him through menial questions in the name of small talk. He was just as sarcastic and full of wit as you remembered, though there was a certain level of softness that hadn’t been present before. 

Every day, as he left you, shook hands, a task that was most likely no longer necessary, but you loved the feeling of your hand in his. Every time your palms touched you wished that he was taking your hand because he wanted to, not just as a formality. 

Remus’s mere existence consumed you, leaving you yearning for every inch of his mind and soul. Your thoughts were full of his smile and his beautiful eyes. You dreamed of running your hands through his hair and resting your head on his chest. You felt yourself falling in love with him slowly and it terrified you. But there was nothing you could do to stop it. It was as if he had planted himself in your mind, the vines of his ivy covering you completely, overrunning your mind, body, and soul. 

About a month into his teaching you arranged a meeting to discuss Monty’s progress. Remus had readily agreed and he appeared at your doorstep promptly. Humphrey was supposed to attend the meeting but he had been pulled away on business. Or at least that was what he told you. Often times when he was away for work he’d come home smelling of another woman. 

You sat in your husband’s office, just you and Remus. The lighting was dim and your breath was quickly becoming bated because suddenly, you weren’t so sure if you had been imagining the tension between the two of you. He fidgeted in the seat across from you, staring at you with those alluring hazel eyes. They were the type of hazel right between green and brown, the perfect sweet spot that made them appear almost yellow. You looked away quickly and cleared your throat. 

“So how is Monty doing?” you asked, placing your hands neatly in your lap. Remus smiled and ran a hand through his hair.

“He’s doing wonderful,” Remus said proudly, “He’s quite inquisitive. He wants to know everything about everything.” You let out a breathy laugh and nodded.

“Yes, he used to bombard me with questions before you started teaching him,” you admitted, “I couldn’t answer half of them.” Remus laughed this time and shifted in his seat, leaning slightly further over the desk.

“I’m sure you had no problem answering. I was honestly surprised when you sent me the letter, I would have assumed that you were teaching him yourself,” he said, “You were always so smart back in school.” You flushed and shook your head. 

“Do you not remember how you had to save me from failing astronomy,” you answered teasingly, the banter between you flowing easily. Remus pulled back and raised an eyebrow at you. 

“If I remember correctly, it never seemed like you needed much help,” he said. You felt your face heat up. In all honesty, you hadn’t needed help with astronomy. You had just wanted to be close to Remus and that was the only way you had known how. 

“No, I needed the help,” you chided, “You just happened to be an excellent teacher.” Remus met your praise with that boyish smile you had fallen for. The two of you fell into easy conversation after that, forgetting your purpose for the meeting in the first place. You knew that you were entering dangerous territory but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

That night as he left you walked him to the door. 

“Thank you for meeting with me,” you said softly, a hint of a joke behind your eyes. Remus nodded with a smile, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Of course,” he said softly, “Goodnight.” His eyes were rounded and earnest, sending the beating of your heart into overdrive. As he turned to leave you found yourself grabbing his sleeve and turning him around. You were unsure of what your intention was but suddenly he was standing so close, his eyes roaming your face and your breath mixing with his. The two of you stood like that for a moment, staring at each other. Finally, you pulled back slightly, diffusing the tension.

“Goodnight,” you whispered back, your voice slightly hoarse. Remus swallowed thickly, before nodding and leaving quickly. 

The next time he came over for a session the two of you acted as if nothing happened. You hoped that this was because you were under the watchful eye of your husband and not because he didn’t return your affections. You worried the entire time that you observed the lesson, chewing at the inside of your cheek. He didn’t even spare you a glance the entire lesson.

Once he and Monty were done you walked him to the door, as usual, dread settling in your stomach. You worried that you had ruined everything. But when you reached the door and slipped your hand in his for your usual handshake, he surprised you by lifting your hand up and pressing a kiss to the back of it. 

Your life soon became waiting for stolen moments with Remus. Tentatively tangling fingers in a hallway before Monty rumbled down the stairs. There was so much you learned about him, but you could tell there was something he was holding back. There was an ever-present sadness in his eyes that made your heart break. He seemed cursed, as if there was something dark lurking underneath the surface. But he never shared too much with you. 

You scheduled your next meeting several weeks later and you waited for it impatiently, longing for moments alone with the man whom you loved. But unfortunately, luck was not on your side. Humphrey, who was supposed to be busy, had decided to join you. So he sat in the big chair while you stood behind him, your head down and your hands clasped behind your back. 

Remus sat uncomfortably in his chair, sneaking glances at you when your husband wasn’t looking. You were aware of how submissive and deferential you must have looked. You had never wanted Remus to see you like this, to see how truly trapped you were. You were afraid he’d pull away and realize that loving you was futile as you had no way to escape the shackles of your marriage. You longed to look into those hazel eyes and pretend that everything would be alright. But instead, your husband placed a rough hand on your arm and told you that it was time for the men to talk. 

You sat in the library and worried, afraid that Humphrey had somehow found out and was trying to confront Remus. But truly, what was there to find out? All there had been were lingering gazes and grazing touches of hands. You hadn’t dared to kiss him or even make it known how you felt. 

But when the meeting was over you watched Humphrey give Remus a cordial handshake and thank him for his services. Remus glanced at you for a split second, but his gaze quickly moved past you as if you weren’t even there. 

You feared that everything had been ruined. That he’d realize that you were too broken and too chained to be loved. But the next moment you had alone with him, he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, the most contact the two of you had ever shared.

“He can’t treat you like that,” he murmured into your hair. You let out a shaky breath, holding back tears, and pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. 

“He’s my husband, that’s how it’s supposed to be,” you replied. Remus pulled back and cupped your face. 

“No, it’s not. You deserve to be loved, not manhandled,” he said, his voice filled with a soft determination. You smiled sadly at him. 

“That’s how it’s supposed to be for women like me,” you said softly. Remus leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours.

“He’s not worthy of you,” he whispered. You closed your eyes and sighed. 

“I don’t have a choice. I never did,” you murmured. 

Tentatively, Remus pressed his lips against yours. The kiss started out soft, his chapped lips moving gently against yours. Your mind was spinning and your legs went weak, this moment feeling like a dream. The way his hand was in your hair, cradling your head, and the way your body was flushed against his felt like something out of a fantasy. But soon, the kiss became more heated and more desperate, Remus’s lips pressed harshly against your mouth. When he finally pulled away you were breathless and dizzy, wishing that you could grab him by the collar and pull him back down. 

“You always have a choice,” he said, his voice gravelly as he whispered in your ear. And with that, he detached himself from your embrace and entered the library. 

As winter slowly turned to spring you spent every waking moment thinking of Remus and how you wished you could be with him instead. Your secret meetings became more frequent, filled with desperate kisses and unspoken confessions. The words often burned at the back of your throat, begging to escape and profess your feelings. You desperately wanted to tell him that you were irrevocably in love with him and you longed to know if he felt the same. But you knew that once those words spilled from your lips you could never take them back and things could never stay the same. But suddenly, you wished that things would finally change. 

You were often kept up at night with the fear that Humphrey would find out. That he’d catch a quick kiss in a darkened hallway or finally notice how Remus’s eyes lingered on you. You knew that if he found out you’d be on the receiving end of some unspeakable punishment. But you feared not only for your safety but the safety of your love as well. Humphrey was a scary man when he was angry, and you dreaded what your husband would do to Remus. 

On a brisk spring night, you sat in the study with Remus, an open bottle of wine on the desk. Humphrey was away on business so you took it upon yourself to schedule another “meeting” with Remus. He now sat at the desk and you stood between his legs, a bright smile stretched across your face. You sipped from your glass, reveling in the taste. It was an expensive bottle that Humphrey had imported from France and you knew that you weren’t supposed to drink it. 

Remus’s hand was settled on your hip as you talked, your faces so close that your lips almost touched as you spoke. You longed for moments like these, where you could bask in his affections unashamedly, without fearing getting caught. 

He brushed a stray hand of hair from your face and you suddenly became more somber, desperately staring into his eyes, your lip trembling slightly. His eyes furrowed as he sensed your mood change. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly. 

“Take me away from this place,” you pleaded, “Please.” Remus let out a trembling breath, his expression falling into one similar to yours. 

“You know that I can’t,” he whispered. You shook your head frantically, clutching the front of his shirt in your fists. 

“Yes, you can,” you said, “You, me, and Monty, we can all run away together.” Remus shook his head and looked away.

”No, we can’t,” he breathed. You felt tears pool in your eyes as you tried to convince him.

“Yes, we can! Monty adores you and I-” you took a deep breath, “and I love you.” You looked at him defiantly and unflinching, never surer of any statement in your life. Remus froze and stared at you, his mouth agape. 

“You don’t love me, you can’t,” he replied. 

“I do Remus,” you said softly, your grip on his clothes loosening. 

“You can’t. I’m poor and I’m-” he paused, seemingly trying to gather his words. “I’m ill,” he finally settled upon, “I can’t take care of you.” You cupped his cheek and shook your head. 

“I don’t care about any of that,” you whispered, “And you’d take far better care of me than he does. You already do.” Remus sighed before pressing a burning kiss to your lips. 

“When does Humphrey get back?” he asked as he pulled back. 

“Two days,” you answered. Remus closed his eyes, mulling something over. He finally leaned over, kissing your forehead lightly before speaking. 

“Go pack your bags,” he whispered. You smiled at him before turning to leave the room, ready to grab your and Monty’s essentials. But before you could leave he grabbed your sleeve, spinning you around to face him. Your faces were so close you could feel his breath fan across your face. 

“I love you,” he murmured softly. You simply smiled before grabbing your bags and gently waking Monty, preparing to break out of the tower that confined you. Ready to live the life you had always wanted with the man that you loved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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add yourself here

[laequiem]

Kiss-proof

/ Jude has lost Cardan in the mall. Of course, he is in the one place she would never go. Domestic fluff, fluffy fluffiest fluff

Fandom: The Folk of The Air

Rating: T for mention of characters having a sex life, but that's it.

The flaw in Cardan's glamour is the same detail that infuriates me when I look at his face when he wakes up: he is impossibly beautiful. Not handsome like a popular actor, not pretty like the members of a boyband. He is absolutely devastating, just as he is as a faerie.

read on ao3 • part of Tales from the Mortal Realm

I check my bulky flip phone for the 5th time.

4:23pm.

I don't know why I expected Cardan to be back on time. I had some errands to do—which might include lingerie I wanted to keep secret until our anniversary—so I told him to explore the mall on his own. I gave him some (real, non-glamoured) money to spend like a child with an allowance.

There are so many red flags with this whole plan.

I do not like to admit it, but I'm worried. My extravagant husband has enough trouble fitting in with humans when he is with me, I can only imagine the trouble he can get himself in without me. Or the trouble that can find him when I am not there to protect him.

I get up from the bench that I had designed as our meeting point. Where could he be? Anywhere I would not go, which does not narrow the list down very much. As I walk around, I can imagine him enjoying every single one of these places.

Cardan smelling some bath bombs and chatting up with a pushy Lush salesperson. All that glitter, all that dye—the servants would rage at having to clean the tub afterwards.

Cardan entering a sterile-looking jewelry store, eyes glittering at all the precious gems.

Cardan browsing Hot Topic, digging into bowls of plastic rings and looking at shirts for bands he does not know.

My stomach drops as I stand before the one store I know I will find him in. Black-and-white striped pillars stand on either side of the storefront and the dreaded white font over black spells out the name of the store: Sephora.

I have never entered a Sephora before. They are intimidating and I know nothing about their products. Whenever I needed new eyeliner, I would just ask Vivi to buy me whichever one she thought was best. Nowadays, I can count on my husband's extensive makeup collection and skills.

“We have servants to do this!” I had insisted the first time he approached me with a kohl pencil. He had laughed, and I let him line my eyes. Ever since, I look forward to it. It’s a small, intimate gesture with which we prove our love to each other without saying a word. It is his way of showing care, and my way of showing trust.

I pass the threshold of the store and I spot him immediately. Even without my True Sight making his glamour ripple when I gaze at him, I would still have a hard time believing he is human. His glamour is perfect—rounded ears, no tail, the glitter of his skin dulled down to a normal healthy shine—but every glamour should have a flaw. The flaw in Cardan's glamour is the same detail that infuriates me when I look at his face when he wakes up: he is impossibly beautiful. Not handsome like a popular actor, not pretty like the members of a boyband. He is absolutely devastating, just as he is as a faerie.

Even amongst gorgeous people who perfected their faces through makeup and good lighting, he stands out.

For me, however, bewilderment comes from seeing Cardan wait in line like a normal person. Like a boy who did not grow up as an entitled prick. It shakes me so much that I stop in my tracks and watch him walk up to the register once the previous client leaves.

He adapts better than I give him credit for. My heart swells with love for this male who keeps challenging and surprising me.

I go to bypass the line and I catch a snippet of his conversation with the boy manning the cash register. On the counter lay piles of makeup, from eyeshadow palettes to colorful eyeliner.

"A good choice!" the cashier exclaims, holding a dark lipstick, "it has the best matte finish. It even passes the kiss test!"

I swear I can see him wiggle his perfectly defined eyebrows. The smile he gives Cardan is wicked—the same kind of grin my husband gives me over dinner then he's feeling particularly hungry.

"The kiss test?" my husband asks, a grin forming on his sinful lips.

"Yeah," the cashier replies, "you can make out with someone, it won't budge. Or transfer."

I get to Cardan’s side and the cashier notices me then. His brows raise in surprise for a moment before he schools his features into a socially acceptable customer service smile.

I can't blame him for his surprise—Cardan and I could not look any more mismatched. His sharp features are accentuated with contouring and a lighter version of his usual silver highlighter. I, on the other hand, barely had time to brush my hair before putting on an oversized hoodie and leggings. I bet I look like someone he took pity on and brought to the mall for a makeover.

"Where is the fun in that?" Cardan looks at me then, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Still, I suppose I will have to try."

I roll my eyes and he presses a kiss to the top of my head.

The cashier tells Cardan the total, and he raises a brow when my husband starts counting cash. I know other humans use cards nowadays, but without a permanent address in the Mortal Realm, we have been dealing exclusively in cash—mostly given by Vivi in exchange for Elfhame goods.

The boy thanks Cardan for his purchase, and it's all I can do not to laugh when he replies "you're very welcome", like that is a normal thing to say to a retail employee.

On our way out, Cardan stops by one of the many mirrors in the store and applies his new lipstick, ending with a pop of his luscious lips.

"Really? You couldn't wait until we got back to the hotel?"

I smile teasingly at him, and he grins back. The lipstick is deep, dark purple.

"If I did, nobody would see it but you." He slides an arm around my waist and winks. "That would be a shame, when it looks so good."

I roll my eyes and slip out of his embrace, making towards the exit. When my back is turned to him, I allow myself a smile. It does look good, I think, though I won't give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.

"Jude, wait—"

With those long legs of his, Cardan catches up to me quickly. He puts a hand on my shoulder and spins me around to face him. I lift my chin to look at him, and his expression sends a chill down my spine. This face used to send unwanted images of our younger days to my brain—Cardan spitting on my shoes, pulling my hair, kicking my lunchbox. Nowadays, this wickedness sends my blood rushing south and fills me with memories of his clever fingers and his face between my legs.

"I was not done," he says as he circles my waist again, pulling me towards him sternly. "I have to debunk the claims the boy made."

"Fine," I say, and peck him quickly on the lips.

He chuckles. "You know that won't do, Jude dearest."

Cardan leans towards me. Instinctively, I part my lips and close my eyes. Even after all this time, I hate that he has this effect on me, even though I know it's not fair. I have spent my whole life training with a blade while he spent his training his mind and body to seduce and manipulate.

His lips claim mine and I all but melt into him. I forget where we are, how utterly exposed we are to the judgement of others. I seek out his tongue with mine and bite his lip the way he likes.

Cardan pulls away and I chase after his lips, desperate for more, until I feel his mouth on my neck. Slender fingers grip my chin, angling my head to allow him access.

I open my eyes and finally remember myself, where we are and how inappropriate this is—

"Cardan!"

He hums in question as his cruel mouth continues kissing its way up to my ear. His hand moves back towards my nape and tangles in my hair, pulling lightly.

"We're in—you can't just do that! People are—"

I look around, mortified. The mall is not that crowded, but I see people looking abruptly away when I look in their direction. A mother covers her child's eyes as she notices us. An old lady sneers.

I feel Cardan grin against my skin before dragging his teeth up my ear to nibble at the curved cartilage.

I give a small shove to his chest and he pulls away with a chuckle that curls my toes.

"You're shameless," I say.

"You look like you drank an entire bottle of faerie wine," he replies, then gives a quick kiss to my heating cheek.

When he pulls back, he inspects my face with narrowed eyes, then my neck. He lets out an impressed hum.

"It seems he was right. No marks."

I laugh and his eyes light up, a genuine smile forming on his dark lips.

"Will you buy more, then?" I ask.

"No. I prefer when it leaves marks."

[a-cupof-jo]

Summer End, Love Begin

Intern!Jeno x Intern!reader

fluff and light angst

words: 3.2K

warnings: drunkenness

~~

Y/n starts a summer internship with NCT Inc. and quickly learns that summer heartbreak comes in the form of Lee Jeno.

~~

“I love you,” a hiccup fell through his lips. His body was pressed into your side. It would be a lie if you said that the words didn’t make your heart jump. Lee Jeno was nothing short of a heart throb. Smart, handsome, kind, he was the definition of a perfect person. You had known that from the first moment you walked through the doors to NCT Inc.

All of the interns had been ushered into a room and told to mingle as you waited to be directed to your mentors and teams. A boy sat next to you, glasses perched on his nose and a smile gracing his face.

“Hi, I’m Jeno, HR Intern,” he reached out a hand for you to shake.

“Y/n L/n, Talent Acquisition Intern,” you grinned back at him as he released your hand. “Sounds like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other here in the future.” Jeno nods in agreement as the internship director stood in front of the group.

“We are so glad to bring you all on,” he clasped his hands, smiling and nodding at you all. “Many of you already know me, Johnny Suh. I work primarily with the TA Interns, but I'll help you all get settled your first couple of weeks. So now that you know me, we'll get you all separated into teams and you can be on your way!” He read down the list separating out management, IT and accounting interns. Jeno had settled in next to you as three other boys also moved close to you guys. “Jeno, Y/n, and Mark you guys will be collaborating throughout the summer. Make sure you guys get to know each other well over the week. Mark, Jeno, you can go meet up with Taeil and Doyoung. Y/n you’re staying with me.”

You nodded to both of them as they started to leave. Mark grinned and Jeno smiled back, “It was nice to meet you, Y/n. We’ll exchange information later.” You willed yourself not to blush as he threw back one last smile before exiting the room.

“No, Jeno, you don’t,” you shifted him so his head was resting more on your shoulder. “There is someone else you love.”

Mark and Jeno got along instantly and it didn’t take long for you to get integrated into their new friendship. Mark was boisterous and a go-getter whereas Jeno was quieter but had equally as important input on tasks and projects you were placed to work on together.

“Jeno?” Mark inquired. Jeno’s signature eye smile made way on his face, “I’ll be there.”

“So I was thinking,” Mark spun the pencil in his hand as he leaned back in his chair. “We are about done with this assignment. Why don’t we get together for a celebration after it’s completed. I already talked to Donghyuck and Jaemin and both of their teams are almost done. We were thinking of doing it for all the management interns.”  

“That sounds great!” You glanced up from the paperwork. You grin at the excitement on Mark’s face. “Send me the details once you get them figured out.”

A week later you had shown up outside a small house with light shining through the window and music drifting through the air. You knocked on the door waiting for a response. A tall, lanky boy opened the door and gave you a small grin. “Hey Jisung,” you greeted him as you walked through the doorway. “Sorry I’m a bit late, Johnny needed me to finish up some documents.”

“Oh, Jeno’s got a crush,” you heard someone singsong from the other room.

“Please, Donghyuck,” you hear Jeno plead.

“Oh, you should hear him at work. Do you think she’ll stop by today? Do you think that she’ll like my project plan? Barf,” Mark had joined in the teasing. You felt your heart drop as you listened to them talk. The small crush you had been harboring on Jeno had grown exponentially in the 5 weeks you had been working together. Did you like him in that you would date him if he asked? Absolutely. Did you think he would ever ask? Not now.

“Y/n?” Jisung said quietly from beside you. You hummed at him, “Are you okay? Do you need me to get you water or tylenol?”

“I’m fine, Jisung,” you gave him a tight smile. “Why don’t you lead me to the others? It sounds like we’re all going to be making fun of Jeno.”  Jisung didn’t look convinced as he led you to the living room. “I heard we were making fun of Jeno.” You forced a smile on your face as you sat next to him. “So who’s this crush of yours I’m hearing about?” You pinched his cheeks as he blushed at you. “Oh, I bet it’s Kim Yerim from IT!”

Jeno pushed at your hands, “Y/n, not you too.” He pouted as the group laughed. You couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t deny it and instead his cheeks turned a darker shade of red.

The following weeks felt awkward. Maybe you were the only one who felt it because Mark and Jeno were acting the same as always. Well, Mark was acting weird and Jeno was ignoring him. You couldn’t help but catch the looks Mark was sending Jeno’s way.

You were running late one morning when you overheard part of a conversation you knew you weren’t supposed to be a part of.

“When are you going to ask her?” Mark stood at his seat shuffling the papers sitting in front of him.

What did Jisung see? You thought you had heard that Yerim had been recently broken up with. Maybe that’s what Mark was talking about. Now would be Jeno’s chance to swoop in. You felt your heart ache as you paused a moment before pushing through the door. “Hey guys,” you grinned at the two of them. “Let’s get this started.”

“Never,” Jeno shrugged, but the question in his voice gave way to his thoughts.  

“Dude,” Mark looked up at him with surprise in his eyes. “You were there when Jisung told us what he saw. You’ve got the chance now.”

You raised an eyebrow at Jeno the second time you caught him staring at you. “Are you feeling okay, Y/n?” Mark raised his eyes in concern as Jeno’s words met your ears.

You glanced between the two of them before sighing, “Just a headache. It’ll pass soon.”

Jeno reached down to the bag he had sitting by his feet, “Here,” he handed a bottle across the table. “We can’t have the best member of our team sick.” His eyes smiled at you as you grabbed the bottle and gave him a small smile. As you swallowed down the pills, you accepted that even if Jeno never liked you back that getting over was going to be the hardest part of this summer.

“Whad are you takin bout,” Jeno’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you. His eyes held onto the drunken haze he was in and you couldn’t help but sigh as hair drooped down into his eyes. “I really…” His voice faded out as he looked out at the river. Shaking his head he looked back to you, “I really, really like you.”

“If you really mean that, then tell me that when you’re sober,” you pushed the hair out of his eyes.

As you neared his apartment building, Jeno tried to lean in closer to you, “Why d'nt cha believe me?”

You watched as he punched in the building code, his fingers fumbling over the keys, “You would have never said all this if you were sober, Jeno. You are letting the alcohol get to your head.” You helped him get to the elevator. The doors opened almost instantly. “You can get to your apartment from here?” You looked up at him.

“Don’t leave,” Jeno grabbed your hand as you turned away from him. “Please, don’t say goodbye tonight.” Jeno’s eyes were pleading with you.

You shook your head as you stepped out of his reach. He didn’t like you. The alcohol on his brain did. “Jeno, you know I can’t.” Tears stung at your eyes. Oh, how you wanted to stay with him, to believe his alcohol induced words. “I’ll see you on Monday. Make sure you drink lots of water and take some tylenol.” You turned quickly out the doors rushing down the street before you could turn back around and accept his invitation.

“I can’t believe this is our second to last week,” Mark ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, it’s crazy, this doesn’t feel like it should end.”

“Maybe it won’t,” Jeno grinned as he typed away at his laptop. “Some of us are bound to be put on as full time employees. You and Lucas from IT are probably going to get offers.”

“But it won’t be the same,” Mark whined as he draped himself across the desk. “Neither one of you will be there. What am I supposed to do without the bomb squad?”

“What?” You laughed as you watched Mark, “The bomb squad?”

“Yeah, that our team name,” Mark looked at you confused.

“I wasn’t aware of this,” Jeno threw a look at you.

“Me either,” you shrugged.

“Here have mine,” Jeno handed over the umbrella in his hand.

“Well now you know,” Mark nodded as he glanced down at his computer screen. His face lit up as an email notification sounded from the computer. He giggled as he typed out a response and turned to both of you. “Donghyuck’s throwing another get together this Friday. He says that it’s one last internship hooray before we all have to present our summer projects this upcoming week. You guys can’t say no. I will drag you there myself if I have to.” You rolled your eyes teasingly at Jeno before agreeing to Donghyuck’s party.

\

You shook your head at him, “Jeno, I can’t take that. You’ll get all wet.” Unexpected showers had made the end of your Friday workday dreary. You had stood under the office building awning for 10 minutes waiting for the rain to lighten up when Jeno had stepped up next to you. Both of you had stood there watching it for another few minutes before Jeno pulled out an umbrella and held it out for you.

“It’s okay. I’ll just run to my car,” he motioned out to the parking lot. “It’s not that far.”

“Jeno, really I can’t.” You pushed the umbrella back towards him.

“Well then at least let me walk you to your car,” he pleaded with you. You nod at him and he grinned, opening his umbrella and letting you step under it with him.

You unlocked your car as you two stepped up next to it, “Thank you.” You voice quietly carried over the rain.

“Of course,” Jeno looked stunning standing under the umbrella watching as you entered your vehicle. “I’ll see you tonight, right?”

“I’ll be there,” and his smile lit up the overcast sky as you stared at him.

You woke up to a headache and the sound of a buzzing phone. The phone on the nightstand slipped onto the floor as you rolled over to reach for it. The buzzing continued as you laid on your bed face down on a pillow. It was Thursday and the entire week Jeno refused to talk to you much less look at you. Everyone was starting to see the tension between the two of you and were starting to approach you about it. First was Jaemin, the nosy marketing intern who claimed that Jeno was sad because of you. Next was Donghyuck and Mark, they had cornered you during lunch break and tried to force out of you whatever happened between you and Jeno Friday night. They wouldn’t accept the truth of nothing happening. Jisung didn’t approach you, but would let his stare linger on you, making you feel less than comfortable sitting at your desk. Perhaps the worst person who asked you about Jeno, didn’t even approach you and you hadn’t been expecting him to pick up on you and Jeno’s strained relationship.

“Why aren’t you guys talking,” Lucas had blurted out, causing the meeting you were sitting in to come to a stand still. Confused and amused looks were sent his way, “Jeno, hasn’t even talked about Y/n at all this week.”

“Lucas, I don’t think this is the ti-” Taeyong the founder of NCT Inc. stood at the head of the table.

“I knew something was wrong when Jeno called me first thing Saturday asking what happened the night before,” Renjun commented from down the table. With those words all of your questions surrounding Jeno were answered. Your eyes fluttered shut as you willed away tears.

You opened your eyes to see your mentor sitting across from you with a concerned look in his eyes. A cough sounded down the table and you minutely shook your head at him. He grimaced but didn’t say anything.

“He did the same thing to me,” Donghyuck’s loud voice carried through the room. You stared down at the table listening as others gave confirmation of the same thing.

“Why didn’t you believe me?” Your head snapped up as Jeno’s voice reached your ears, “Why don’t you believe me? Sober minded or not, Y/n, I love you.” You listened to a gasp go up around the room. “You told me to tell you when I was sober. You wouldn’t believe me any other way. So, here I am, telling you infront of all our mentors and friends, completely sober, I love you.” You stared at him completely slack jawed. You tried to form words but your voice wouldn’t come, “I knew that I was going to fall for you the moment that I met you. And how could I not have when I was working with a talented, smart, beautiful person like yourself.”

“Jeno,” your whispered voice sounded strangled.

Jeno stumbled into his apartment. You had left him. Turned your back and ran. He couldn’t blame you. If you didn’t like him then he’s not going to force you into anything. You had looked so broken when he had spoken the words he wanted to tell you from weeks ago. It wasn’t even three weeks into this internship that he decided that he was taken by you. A week later he confessed to Mark that he was crushing, hard. You never treated him any differently then your other co-workers, and so Jeno knew you just viewed him as a close friend. That is, until Jisung said that he thinks you like him. Jeno denied it on all accounts, but then Mark got involved and got Jeno’s hopes even higher.

He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes so high. There was no way you liked him back. That was clear tonight when you had rejected his confession several times. Jeno laid back on his bed,head already pounding and stomach churning. His phone rang in his pocket. He didn’t check the ID as he answered it. “This is Jeno,” he tried in his clearest voice possible.

“Jeno!” Lucas’s voice boomed through the phone causing Jeno to cringe. “Did you make it home okay?”

“Define okay?”

“Are you sitting in your apartment with minimal to no bleeding, bruises, or wounds of any sort?”

“Physical or emotional?”

“Dude, what’s going on? Are you okay or not?”

“Lucas, I think I got rejected tonight,” his voice slurred over the phone.

“Shit,” Lucas breathed. “By Y/n?” Jeno hummed in confirmation. “Did she say specifically that she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“I… I don’t think so, but she said that I shouldn’t be telling her that and that I couldn’t actually mean it.”

“Jeno, you just have to go for it,” Mark turned to him while they sat alone in the conference room. “You can’t give her the cold shoulder and expect her to know that that means you have the hots for her.”

“Try again,” Lucas sounded distracted and further away, “Make a note, tell her again when you can think clearly and have good judgement.” Jeno reached for the pad of paper that sat on his bedside table jotting down ‘tell her’ before flopping back down on the bed, but before his head hit the pillow he was out.

\

Jeno glared at him, “I know. I’m just scared. She’s already rejected me before. I’m sure of it, but I don’t know what I’d do if she rejected me when I can remember.”

“Jeno, you can’t worry about that,” Jisung slipped through the door. “Both of you are miserable and the only way to fix this is to talk. If you don’t do it soon. We will.”

Jeno wasn’t expecting the group to dump it on him in the middle of a meeting. Especially one with their mentors and the owner and founder of NCT Inc. and if he hadn’t seen the look on your face when he gave the soft spoken confession he would be mortified.

You hadn’t realized you had stood up until you heard a voice clearing down the table. Doyoung sat with a conflicted look on his face, “Why don’t we break for lunch.” He along with the others stood up quickly before leaving the room.

Jeno stood from the other side of the table and quickly walked around the table. You reached out and stopped him before he was right in front of you, “I…You never gave any indication that you liked me. How was I supposed to believe you,” your voice softly carried over to him.

“I thought I gave you plenty of hints, getting you drinks, giving you aspirin, walking you to your car.”

“I thought that you were just being nice! I’ve seen you do that with Mark and Renjun, and Jisung. How was I supposed to know that you meant it differently for me?”

Jeno’s small smile dropped further off his face contemplation taking its place, “I guess there was no way for you to know. You never said anything either. You haven’t said anything.” He looked nervous, scared, ready to put his walls up.

You took a deep breath before grabbing his hands, “Jeno, I really, really like you.” You watched as Jeno’s face pinched, “Just give me a little bit. It won’t be hard to fall in love with you. Believe me I am already on the way there.”

Jeno grinned as you finished your words and without hesitation, scooped you into a large hug. “Y/n, you don’t know how happy you’ve made me. When I woke up Saturday morning and saw a note reminder. You don’t know how scared I was. I was going to talk to you on Monday, but you looked so on edge. I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I’m happy too,” you pulled slightly away from him. “I thought that you really didn’t mean it. It took you all week. I thought that I had ruined our friendship.”

“No, of course you didn’t,” he pulled you back into him. “I was just so nervous. I really, really like you, Y/n.”

“And I you.” You smiled up at him. He grinned down before bending down to kiss you. His lips moved against your gently before he leaned away. You preased your forehead to his shoulder, “Do you want to go get lunch together?”

“You know they’re all going to jump us once we get out there, right.” he let his arms drop away from you and instead grabbed your hand.

You shrugged, “Yeah, but maybe we can just convince Taeyong to buy us lunch, call it a company lunch-in.”

“You’re so smart,” Jeno grinned and pulled open the door. “But, how about we just go get our own lunch. I only want to be with you.”

~~

Repost from previous blog

~~

tag list: @qianinterprises @stayctday

[kaijurakunsobs]

You will feel joy, one day

master list for this series

sorry for the wait y'all, I had to torture myself into listening to the same song to get the inspo I needed for this next chapter which is READYMADE - Ado (it has English subtitles btw)

Hope you guys enjoy this!

Summary: It's been clear from the start that you won't go down without putting up a fight, the tone in your voice and stand are nothing but infuriating for Heisenberg, just like his mere presence fills you with annoyance. The factory is enormous and whatever he's doing here could get you killed, but even in this kingdom of oil and rusted metal, there's a bit of kindness.

Right now, you would accept the title of naive, because you were when you thought this man would share his secrets with you, instead...he's giving you a fucking tour of the entire place, wildly pointing and all the doors and doing sharp turns, taking you up and down flights of stairs "I hope you don't get lost, darlin', we don't want you ending in the wrong place, right?" there's mockery in his voice as he speaks over his shoulder, halting to a stop and making you trip and crash against him.

"This is the boiler room, you might want to familiarize yourself with this place in particular" a snarky smile appearing on his lips

Peeking inside makes you go pale and sigh in frustration, it's a mess, you can see cables, crudely fixed with tape, more flammable materials, and so many oil spills on the ground, "I can also familiarize with the rest of the fabric because this dump could explode any day"

His smile falls and that expression of annoyance, that just seems to be for you, comes back in no time. Releasing a cloud of smoke he turns around and starts walking faster, slowly regaining his showman's voice and the exuberance of his movements renew with the occasional laugh, is enough to make you tune him out again, looking at whatever you find more interesting, nose scrunching up with whenever there's something that unsettles or makes you question this man's leadership and care for this place. If you do take the role of helping him, you know you're gonna exploited day and night.

He's not blind or stupid, he knows you are doing everything but listening to him, every time he looks over his shoulder to make sure you are following and paying him some god damn attention, he will always see you eyeing everything, dissecting the place, and doing a face that just speaks volumes of how unimpressed you are by his life's work, but it's not like he will tell you about his plans, it's too soon for that, what if you are just a little spy under Miranda's orders?

It rubs him the wrong way how adamant she was on you being under his orders, super-sized bitch didn't raised too much hell, which also puts him on edge, it just doesn't feel normal for him. In any other situation where Miranda has favored him over Dimitrescu, and it wasn't because "mother" gave her that heartfelt speech Karl being all alone on his iron tower, Moreau is the forgotten child of the bunch and has to beg for almost everything, Miranda is already pissed with Donna and her botanical gig, let alone, the way she uses her cadou to just make dolls move.

That left him in the position akin to a middle child, he's just there, occasionally remembered and rarely to give him treats or surprises. He's used to scavenging for materials, do the occasional grave robbing or take the corpses the other Lords leave behind.

So, why did she left you with him?

"Lastly but no less important! the living quarters"

You have been so lost in thought, you didn't noticed that his "fantastical tour" is over, and you are back to the front of the complex...shit, you didn't even paid attention to where everything is, you're gonna get so lost if you try to navigate this place on your own.

After entering the brute closes the door behind you and goes to the left office, you can hear him mumbling under his breath and things being moved around, you don't know how long he's going to be in there, so you turn your attention to the rest of the room.

From everything you have seen, this place is the cleanest one and it makes you think of the layout in your family's factory. It looks like he repurposed what used to be the waiting area, there's a kitchen in the right corner, a couple of sofas that had seen better days, a lot of blueprints have been left on the coffee table. To the left, it's the main office, a lot bigger and the tinted glass on the door has the name Heisenberg hand-painted on it, classy, you suppose that that's his room? you don't care, opting for getting close to the blueprints, his handwriting is atrocious and there are notes everywhere, how interesting, one of the workers used to say that was a sign of a brilliant mind.

"You are not allowed to go there, a'right?" hearing him so close makes you jump, when did he come back? from the tone of his voice, you might be right, it's either his bedroom "This one, however! this one is just for you" he says oh so sweetly when pointing at the smaller office to the right opening the door rather unceremoniously.

Now you get why the rest of this area is so clean and clutter-free, motherfucker pushed all the trash and old furniture in there, it's dusty and the air, somehow, is stale only in this place, you can see cobwebs "Since I'm being kind enough to let you sleep on this side and not in the cellars, I think is fair that you take care of the mess, don't you think?"

"Can't I just sleep in one of the couches?"

"Of course not, we don't want my precious mechanic to get sick, right?" condescending asshole, he even smiles at you, showing you his teeth in what you identify as an act of intimidation

"Of course we don't want that, my Lord! but, I do must say, you have been ill-mannered, showing me around your domain yet...you haven't told me your name when introductions were supposed to be made long ago" it's your turn to give him teeth flashing smile, his going a bit forced

"Well you see sweetheart, I would have done it earlier, but I came encountered a disrespectful brat that decked me in the face as soon as we met"

"Really now? Perhaps, this brat was done with being manhandled and reacted accordingly to how they felt" the sardonic smile on your face grows and you can see how much it pisses him off, and that shouldn't make you proud.

The man is looking, more like attempting, to look down on you, clicking his tongue loudly and in a dissatisfied manner, with complete derision, he gives you, the closest thing to a respectful bow "My name is Karl Heisenberg and I'm one of the four Lords working under Miranda's orders"

In response, you give him a curtsy and use your best sarcastic tone, just for him "It's such an honor to meet you, my lord. I must say I'm no noble but I do HOPE you may remember the name of this pheasant girl, Y/N, L/N Y/N"

He doesn't appreciate the way you talk to him or how you don't even try to hide how little you respect or fear him, but he needs you alive to accelerate and optimize the factory's production, under other circumstances? he would have thrown you down to let the Sturm have some fun, but he won't, at least for now.

"So, Miss Y/N...let me give you a...welcoming gift" he's harsh when trusting a bundle of crumpled clothes and old boots into your arms, pushing you back hard enough that you almost lose your balance "I don't expect you to always wear my hand-me-downs, this is a momentary arrangement"

"Oh my! so generous of you, to clothe this poor village girl with your own garments, I am so thankful for this, however, if I may ask for a tiny favor...can I know where your bathroom is? I don't what to soil this fine fabric with my dirty body"

You don't like the way he smiles at you, with one hand he grabs your shoulder and with the other he opens the door, pushing you towards what used to be the employee's showers, there's mold and broken mirrors, a lot of the shower heads are gone and the only one that seems to be functioning is leaking.

"Serve yourself, princess, just know this...there's only cold water, the hot water stopped working years ago and I haven't felt like repairing it, I hope you enjoy your shower!"

And with that, he leaves you, finally alone but unnerved on how easily he could come back and just stare at you like a creep. But you need a shower, there's grime and dirt caked to your body and it's starting to get disgusting and itchy. So you swallow your pride and leave the borrowed clothes over the small wall separating the showers from the rest of the place and brace yourself to what might be the worst moment of the day so far.

Later you are cursing him as loud as you can, he didn't lie when he said that only the cold water worked, but you would say it was freezing, his clothes are uncomfortably big on you, and smell of faint sweat and like these were left tucked away for a long time, the boots are the best part, these have been broken in nicely and they fit you...who are you kidding? the damn things are falling apart and you feel like a clown with how big they are.

That has left you with the shining crown of the shit show that's been this whole day! the trash in your new room, you had to box so many useless papers, look everywhere to find one measly broom, and use the remains of the gown you came in with to keep your hair out of your face and as a bandana to cover your nose and mouth.

From all the old furniture in the room, the only useful stuff is the old desk, a sofa that somehow survived without being eating by termites but might be infested with cockroaches, and a lamp. It's not much, but it's something.

All this moving around now has brought a new problem.

You are starving.

You can't remember when Miranda took you, let alone when was your last meal or if you were fed during your time in the cell. But Heisenberg's fridge is empty, there's only a handful of onions and those have roots and sprouts coming out already. There's nothing substantial in the cupboards or anywhere for that matter.

You doubt there might anything to eat in this place, but, you better give it a try, better die trying than going to sleep with a grumbling stomach, right? But, you didn't learn jackshit from him and you can't remember anything from the directions Heisenberg gave you.

Fuck it.

Slowly you creep out of the small apartment and peek outside, looking around assures you that the coast is clear. This could be a great learning experience! no matter how much of a dick this man is, there's something of value in his words and maybe, just maybe, you should pay more attention when he talks...MAYBE.

The place is a labyrinth of stairs, broken walls turned into hallways and sealed doors, you do have half a mind to remember which doors and areas he pointed as "out of bounds" for you, which is a surprise, seeing how massive the place is.

Under the stench of grease and smoke, you notice, the tasty scent of stew...close, very close, your poor stomach twisting painfully and mouth rapidly filling with saliva, you start following the heavenly aroma until you reach an old cargo lift, a large man sits there and for a moment that makes you stop in your tracks.

The man is surrounded by bags and crates filled with stuff from fruits to what you guess are various pieces of machinery and other objects hard to identify in the low light "Aaaaah...a new customer perhaps? You must be Lord Heisenberg's new assistant, are you not?"

He smiles with true kindness and something similar to pity, meaty hands adorned with gold rings beacon you close "Come come, miss...?"

"Uuuuuuuh...I'm Y/N, nice to meet you..."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance miss Y/N, you may call me The Duke"

There's something infectious in him that makes you relax your shoulders and walk closer to him "So...what do you do here Duke?"

"What? well, I'm nothing but a humble merchant, occasionally I set up shop here in the factory, especially when I have a delivery or things that may spark Lord Heisenberg's interest, and now that you are here, I will make a note to bring stuff you could use too"

"I...I would appreciate the gesture, thanks" the small sincere smile in your face drops when your stomach decides to grumble loud enough to be heard by the Duke, the man laughing at the sound, making your embarrassment worst.

"Would like to accompany me with dinner, dear? I have made plenty and this could be a small...celebratory feast for you"

"Celebratory? no offense, but...there's nothing to celebrate"

"Aren't you alive and able to walk?" he's so careful when serving some stew in a bowl, making sure not to spill a drop "I think that surviving whatever happened to you, is worth celebrating"

The bowl is warm in your hands and the smell is just divine, you take a seat on the floor waiting for the Duke to serve his bowl and then you dig in, sighing in appreciation when the rich taste of the broth fills your mouth, the softness of the meat and the carrots. You can see the Duke smile with pride when you compliment his cooking, enjoying each spoonful to the fullest.

"It's getting quite late Y/N and Lord Heisenberg is one to rise early, I suggest you go to bed or you end up feeling too tired tomorrow"

"Yeah...thanks for the meal Duke, I really appreciate it"

"Don't mention it and remember, the Duke's Emporium is here to satisfy all your shopping needs!"

You bid the man farewell and do the trek back to your room, taking time to memorize the way to the lift and the living quarters, the man might be a merchant but you want to get to know more about him, he seems nice, he's been the nicest one so far.

The living area feels cold and so terribly empty, there's no sign of Heisenberg anywhere, which you are thankful for. Only after entering your room and laying on your "bed", waiting a bit to hear any sound that might belong to the Lord, when only the sounds of the factory echo back to you do you dare to cry.

It starts slowly, your eyes fixated on the ceiling, then the flood gates open and you start to sob and scream, tears running down the side of your face to get lost in your hair leaving wet patches in their wake. But your crying evolves into fear, panic, raged breathing, and asking hands, all the weight of what happened today swallows you whole.

You don't know where to start, the way you growled at Heisenberg in the church, HOW he was able to move heavy metal without touching it? and all those corpses suspended ton hooks...the howls and things banging against the doors, the cruelty in how Heisenberg tossed you around and screamed in your face. How do you even managed to put and kept that brave face on when you were so scared is beyond you, you did it and that's enough.

The rapid and irregular movement of your chest does nothing but make your side hurt, the pain shoots up and down your body, making you curl on your side to alleviate the pressure if only a bit.

You want to die...but not like this, not terrified for your existence, not at the hands of a volatile man that can crush you with his hammer any day.

You want to live, but to live with your life depending on how well you perform your role? that's not a life at all.

Exhaustion and fatigue eventually take you away into a dreamless sleep, your last thought is...what's going to happen tomorrow?

You don't know, but as the Duke said, you survived whatever Miranda did to you and you will survive this too, no matter what, you will live.