#and of course ive had this idea from like the moment this au came to be

[beetlejuicyy]

Payback

Part 1 • Part 2

Bebe Gang AU

Pairing: Gang member! Bada x reader

Synopsys: Bada takes you with her to a party. Her mistakes cost your safety as you're kidnapped by Wolf'Lo.

Warnings: none

Notes: im back!!! ive been wondering how to make this story more interesting so i hope you enjoy being kidnapped by chocol? hope you enjoy as always

Masterlist

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“That’s actually not as bad as I expected.” Bada sighed in relief when you came out of the room. She was lying down on your bed, scrolling through her phone while she waited for you to decide on what to wear.

“Do you mean I don’t know how to dress?” You asked. Still, you posed in front of her earning a wide and loving smile.

“No, I mean I thought you’d choose something more…” Bada waved her hand through the air as if searching for the word. “Racy? Is that a word?”

“So you thought I’d be a slut the very first time you actually include me in your mafia activities?” Bada rolled her eyes at you, as you checked your outfit in the mirror again.

“Don’t romanticize that.” She let the phone drop on the mattress as she walked behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and looking at both of your reflections in the mirror. “I just know that I have a gorgeous girlfriend.”

“I can’t kick your ass in laser tag in a cocktail dress after all.” You said.

Your girlfriend had been very spontaneous when she asked if you wanted to go with her to a chill get together at one of the guys’ house that night. They were going to get a special delivery of laser tag guns and it was gonna be fun, she promised. You were almost euphoric when you heard her. Somehow, it felt like Bada was being more serious about your relationship, since she was willing to bring you in the middle of her friends.

You were anxious though. In the back of your mind you couldn’t completely ignore the fact that some of those people were dangerous. Of course, not to you in particular since you were Bada’s plus one. The people she introduced you to were a few sweet girls that, between dancing classes, were buying and selling guns and weapons on the black market. Your girlfriend was the one administrating this whole deal, and it took you a bit of time to wrap your head around the idea that the very dance academy they were working at was basically a money laundering scheme.

When you finally arrived to the place, you were left speechless. Bada grinned as she was undoing her seat belt.

“Am I in a rich people drama?” You mumbled to yourself and she giggled because that had been her reaction too when she came for the first time. Now it was quite obvious that you were at the head of the gang’s house. Because it was more of a mansion. It made sense now, how they could play laser tag at home with that much space. You got out, anxious knowing you were about to meet so many new people. But you were happy because Bada would be next to you at all times.

The moment you got in you noticed how something in her attitude changed. Of course, you thought, around all these people she was something other than the sweet and playful girlfriend. From the moment you saw her outfit, black ripped jeans, a tight crop top, a black and white racer jacket and a black cap, you thought she looked cool. There were times when she would effortlessly look like a model no matter what she put on and your heart fluttered knowing you could call this gorgeous girl yours. But now, in a room full of guys with sleeve tattoos and girls who looked like they could beat those very guys up, Bada had a much more imposing posture and an ever cooler air to her. She greeted a lot of people, high-fived some, said a few jokes here and there as you were making your way to the kitchen. She introduced you to everyone you met on your way but you would forget the names as soon as another person would pop out of nowhere. Some people would play cards at a table, others would do shots or play on the gaming consoles. In a room to the right you saw a ping pong table. You tried your best not to look at them in an inappropriate way, knowing you’ve never been to this kind of big parties with this kind of people before. But, as Bada was pulling you by the hand through the people, you knew you looked like a confused deer in the headlights and it was obvious by the way some people would look at you from head to toe that they knew you were an outsider.

The kitchen was thankfully not as crowded, except for some people who would just come and go occasionally. The chairs around the kitchen table were missing so you looked around awkwardly, not knowing how you should sit or act. Bada crouched down, opening a cabinet and reaching out to grab a can of beer for each of you. It looked like it was a secret place, because she waited for two guys to lesbe the kitchen disappointed they didn’t find any more alcohol in the fridge. You hopped on the table, finding it a decent spot to sit, as she leaned against the counter in front of you. You gulped down the beer, realizing how refreshing it finally felt to lessen the tension in your body.

“Someone was thirsty.” Bada said, looking at you and it seemed that only now when you were sitting on that table she noticed how good those low waist cargo pants were hugging your hips. You noticed her eyes quietly taking their time, resting on your bare shoulders as you were wearing that off the shoulder T-shirt she loved on you.

“It’s your fault for looking like that.” You said and she grinned, coming closer to you. She leaned over you, her hands placed on the table at your sides supporting her weight.

“We just got here.” She said and the visor of her cap pushed against your forehead playfully.

“Are we interrupting something?” Lusher asked, obviously knowing the answer already. Bada pulled back and fixed the cap on her head with both hands and you looked the other way in embarrassment. The girls giggled and Bada leaned against the counter just like before, folding her arms in an awkward gesture. She was always close to her girls, you knew that much, but she would always get shy when they would see her crossing the intimacy boundaries with you.

As Lusher, Tatter and Sowoen walked into the kitchen you noticed they were wearing the same jacket as your girlfriend. They really looked like a gang from the movies now. They chatted with you for a while, making sure you felt comfortable and spilling some tea on the people around. You also found out from them that Minah, CheChe and Kyma were on their way to bring the main attraction of the night, the laser tag guns. It was on Bada’s orders, Tatter said, because she trusted them enough to let them deliver some real guns to another gang in the area on their own. They must have already finished the exchange and should have been on their way with the toy guns for the party. You looked at your girlfriend who was rather silent, enjoying to simply watch over her girls chatting. Bada was a very good leader for them, you thought.

Dragged by Sowoen, all of you went to play some games. She was very excited because, apparently, it was her first time at this kind of party too, although she was more laidback and carefree than you since she was familiar with most of the people. It was impressive to see how every time you got close to some group people would greet Bada first and immediately offer to make room for you or simply give up the game for your sake. It happened with Xbox, twice with ping pong and some guys rushed to bring more chairs for you around the table where they were playing cards, even if you were just watching. Lusher winked at you playfully almost like saying I-told-you-so without words. You’ll see how popular Bada unnie is. She had told you in the kitchen. More than popular, you were amazed by how respected she was. She would only decline the favors once, in a very cheerful tone, mostly because that was the polite way. However, they would insist and she would always find a place for you first, then sit right next to you. Now she was playing cards with a few guys and you were quietly sitting next to her.

Outside, you could see a group of people smoking something thicker than the usual cigarettes and you guessed it was cigars. Tatter had told you there was no reason to feel out of place here, after all a lot of people were coming with their plus one. Looking around, you noticed a few couples getting a bit too touchy. You saw two girls hurrying up the stairs holding hands to what you assumed would be a bedroom.

“I’ll go take some air.” You leaned to whisper in her Bada’s ear and she only nodded, looking very concentrated on the cards in her hands.

“I’ll finish here and I’ll come too.” She replied.

The night air was cold but refreshing after spending so much time around so many people. It was almost midnight when you checked the time on your phone and decided to stay on the terrace where those guys had smoked before leaving. You could see Bada through the window, although she didn’t know you were watching her. You saw Lusher walk towards one of the guys and grab him by the hand, cards falling from his sleeve. Your girlfriend slammed her cards against the table laughing. She took her cap off her head and brushed her fingers through her hair, a habit of hers that you found very sexy. As grateful as you were that she brought you there with her, you really wanted to go home and get laid. Or maybe there was an empty room for the two of you right there.

At some point you heard the engine of a car, then you saw Bada stand up and joyfully greet someone you couldn’t see. Now she wasn’t in your view anymore but you guessed that Minah, CheChe and Kyma were finally joining the party with the long awaited laser tag guns. The music was still loud and you had no idea what was happening but you knew your girlfriend would come for you when she was done, as she promised. Besides, it was such a pretty night and you rarely got to be outside this late.

“The party’s inside.” You heard an unfamiliar voice and realized you’ve been too lost looking at the stars. At an arm’s length away from you was a woman with orange toned hair and brown eyes piercing through yours.

“I was… taking some fresh air.” You said, startled. It was almost terrifying to you that she could get so close without you noticing.

“You’re not from here, are you now?” She asked, a grin curling at the side of her lips. She took one hand out of her pants’ pocket in a greeting gesture, closing in the distance between the two of you. “I’m Chocol.” Her voice was low and relaxed and for a moment you thought that you shouldn’t be talking to people without Bada around.

“I’m y/n.” Pressured by the social expectations or simply by Chocol’s persuasive look you took her hand and answered appropriately.

“You really are not from here.” She repeated, making your heart beat faster. You felt threatened for some reason, although her voice was gentle and she never showed any intention of harming you. From her reaction, you could tell that your choice to take her hand and introduce yourself was the wrong one.

“I haven’t seen you around either.” You said, although it didn’t mean much. She let go of your hand.

“There’s a lot of people here tonight.” She shrugged off your comment and you couldn’t argue. “Let me guess. You’re… someone’s plus one?” Chocol asked. A part of you wanted to run back inside. But she gave you no reason to – besides her pressuring stare as if trying to read your mind.

“Yeah I’m here with Bada.” It seemed like the safest thing to do in that moment. You had just witnessed how respected your girlfriend was amongst all those people. Dropping her name would be your easy way to get rid of this uncomfortable situation.

“Really?” She grinned. She was quite good looking, you thought. Your instincts were telling you something was off but if you thought about it she had done nothing wrong. Maybe you were exaggerating. “You should stick around her then.”

You only nodded in agreement, hoping the conversation would end here. Maybe you would both go inside. The music volume inside the house lowered all of a sudden. You found it odd.

“Who knows what alpha males started fighting now.” Chocol yawned, noticing you looked worried. “I wouldn’t go inside.” She said, as if she could read your mind. She seemed to know a lot of things, after all it was obvious she was part of this world.

But she also told you to stick around your girlfriend. You pondered on those words for a moment. It had been a while since you were out and Bada said she would be coming for you but she hadn’t. Now it looked like something was going on inside and maybe that was keeping her busy. You decided to look for her.

Just when you were taking your first step towards the door, you felt Chocol’s hand grab you by the wrist. The sound of a familiar hip hop song was gradually getting closer and louder as a car passed the front gates. Before you could react, Chocol had both your hands behind your back and a hand over your mouth so you couldn’t let out a sound.

“Sorry babe. You’re just collateral damage.” She said and, as your back pressed against her body, you felt the rough edges of the gun she had under her jacked.

***

Bada was growing bored with the game. Maybe it was more rewarding to have you by her side as she flexed her popularity and skills because ever since you went outside she wasn’t really into it anymore. Lusher noticed it and did her a favor by pointing out the obviously cheating player and everyone dropped their cards. A few words about the situation were exchanged and then she could finally join you. By the time she was ready to excuse herself, three girls came in, followed by two guys carrying a large and seemingly heavy container. People got excited, the main attraction of the night was finally here.

On her way to you, Bada decided to welcome her girls and congratulate them for their first independent deal. She was always with them, guiding and protecting especially the younger ones, but it was time to put her trust in them, although some unfriendly voices had told her it was too early. Minah was experienced enough, she argued, to take CheChe and Kyma and seal a simple deal. After all, the biggest advantage Bada’s girls had was that, looking at them, no one would think they were smuggling guns. On many occasions their innocent faces and charms fooled the police and mafia alike.

“Look who’s here!” Bada’s excited voice covered the noise as she opened her arms to welcome the three girls in a warm hug. She was proud of them and they started talking over each other about who they met, how everything went and how scary Minah looked when she was serious. They laughed together as the guys put the container on the floor with a loud thud and opened it. “What’s wrong?” Bada asked as the murmur of people grew quiet and the mood seemed to change around them.

“These are not laser tag guns.” One of the guys said. Stepping closer towards the box to see with her own eyes, she felt her heart stop for a moment, realizing what was going on.

“Girls?” She asked hesitantly but they were already next to her, wide eyes looking down at the container full of pistols. “What are these?” She asked, in a scolding tone. However, it was obvious that more than mad she was growing worried.

“It’s… the delivery for Wolf’Lo.” Minah said in a low voice.

“And what did you deliver?”

“If the real guns are here…” CheChe muttered but the pressure of everyone watching, witnessing a mistake like this was too pressuring to let her finish the sentence.

“Didn’t you open the container in front of them? Who picked them up?” Bada inquired. She had thought that it was an easy task, they never had issues with the girls from Wolf’Lo and besides she was friends with Yeni Cho, who assured her she would pick up the delivery. Everything was supposed to go smoothly, it should have been an opportunity for her youngest members to gain confidence and experience on their own.

“Yeni Cho said it’s not necessary… That she trusts us.” Minah answered.

“You’re supposed to do it no matter what.” Bada said between clenched teeth. “You just sold toy guns to one of the biggest and oldest mafia network in the country.” She knew she had to do some damage control. Give some calls, assure people it was a genuine mistake. Although, in this world, people rarely cared. She only prayed that Yeni had the sense to check the guns before taking them to her team. The music coming from the speakers was long paused. As she was pondering in silence on what was the best approach in the situation, the growing sound of a hip hop track signaled they had company.

“I’ll handle it.” Bada said when a few friends of hers showed their support, ready to fight if necessary. Things had to be clarified as calmly as possible.

She stormed outside the house with more people following behind, the sound of charging guns clicking alongside their steps. Bada was grateful that you were not there at the moment, you were safer this way.

A black SUV pulled up right in front of the house. It was indeed the source of the loud classic hip hop song that stopped once the engine of the car stopped as well. Bada’s fists clenched as three people got out of the car and walked towards them in an almost insultingly relaxed manner.

“Bada Lee, now you have the decency to show up.” The woman walking at the front said in a cocky tone. She had short bleached blonde hair and an annoyed grin. Behind her, a girl with brown hair and gentle features was standing awkwardly, a totally opposite attitude.

“You know it was a genuine mistake, Halo.” Bada said with a calm and conciliatory tone. Halo only clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Yeni, tell her.” She pleaded. The brown haired girl kept looking down at the ground, gulping in guilt.

“Where there’s respect there’s no room for mistakes.” The third person said, a tall lanky even more threatening woman than Halo although she was half a step behind her.

“Tell her, Yeni.” Halo said mockingly. “Isn’t Baby Sleek right? Where’s the respect?”

They were just three women in front of tens of people with Bada in the front but, besides Yeni, the other two didn’t seem scared or intimidated. On the contrary, the power dynamic was the opposite of their numbers, judging by their attitude.

“We have your guns. We can give them to you right away. This misunderstanding can be settled.” Bada tried not to let herself be intimidated. Underneath the visor of her cap her eyes were piercing directly into Halo’s eyes. The more you showed them your fears, the easier they won. That was the first lesson she learned on the streets.

“And how do you settle the moral damage this misunderstanding has brought on us?” Baby Sleek asked back. Halo only nodded in approval.

“You must know that it is a very humiliating gesture. You sent your kids to meet our people and didn’t even bother showing up. Are we that irrelevant to you, Bada?” Halo continued.

“No.” Bada had no choice but to play by their rules. “What’s your price?”

“Three times as many guns. And our money back.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Yeni muttered behind Halo. She had been silent all that time. A part of the fault was hers, she knew, but Halo would never admit that in front of outsiders.

“It is a bit unreasonable for our part.” Bada replied.

“We take what’s ours, even if you give it or not. Although, for the sake of our future business partnerships, it would be nice of you to comply.” Halo was close to mocking her now. Bada felt like her blood was about to explode in her veins. How was she supposed to find that many guns and cover their expenses?

“Halo, please.” She asked again, with a stern tone. “You know it can’t be done.”

“Not even for the sake of your pretty girl?” Another voice ringed in everyone’s ears. Turning to the side, Bada’s eyes widened and all her tough act vanished. There you were, with a gun to your head, a woman taller than you keeping your hands behind your back roughly. You looked terrified, you could hardly breathe, and when your eyes finally met hers tears started rolling down your cheeks.

“Let her go!” Bada yelled, taking a few steps in Chocol’s direction. In a instant, the gun at your head clicked, ready to shoot at the next pull. All the people behind Bada took out their guns and pointed them towards Chocol, and you, or towards the other three women. Halo only laughed, her posture still very much relaxed even with all those guns pointed at her. “Drop the guns, idiots!” Bada’s voice was loud and angry and desperate as she gestured to her friends without taking her eyes off you.

“Good choice.” Chocol said. She pushed you forward, forcing you to walk towards Halo and the others, passing unnecessarily close to Bada in your way. “Don’t worry.” The red haired woman said winking at your girlfriend. “I know how to treat pretty girls.”

It was impossible for her to stand still. Her fists ached for violence and she wouldn’t stop until you were safe back in her arms. But she didn’t have that luxury now. Tatter and Lusher had to forcefully hold her back for your sake, as Chocol pushed you to walk towards the car. Halo walked up to Bada until they were inches apart. Although she was significantly taller than Halo, the shorter woman was dominating as Bada kept on fighting to free herself from her friends’ grip.

“You have until dawn.” Halo said. “Three times the amount of guns and the money back in exchange for your little bitch. Let’s see how much you care about her.”

With that she turned around and walked back to the car, getting in the driver seat. Bada watched as the car got smaller and smaller as it drove off, and she fell to the ground when Lusher and Tatter finally let her go. She was crying and hitting her bare fists on the asphalt, as the mass of people behind her had already started making calls at midnight trying to find the amount of guns necessary until dawn.

[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 14

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

at last (i see the light) by @theroyalsavage

Of a tower, a missing prince with the sun in his hair and the ability to heal with a touch, and a terrible-dangerous-very-bad bandit who’s never been all that good at being very bad, dangerous, or terrible. An AU based off of Disney’s Tangled.

IVE BEEN W A I T I N G FOR A SOLANGELO TANGLED AU OMG. and this ATE. was so fucking good. obviously bc its theroyalsavage but still omg. sorry for harrassing u btw. but i LOVE this. nico as flynn pov and just fucking reluctantly smitten from the beginning.....oh i know that's right

2. a letter to the moon (it is not brighter than you) by @theroyalsavage

When his kingdom is plagued by a series of unsolvable murders, Prince Will Solace must confront several things: tragedy, helplessness, and the dizzy-sweet inevitability of falling in love.

is this, like the author's note indicates, reminiscent of bbc merlin? yes. and so i LOVE. rivals to friends to lovers my BELOVED. royalty aus my BELOVED. and honestly yall should be supporting my royalsavage agenda purely by her titles like LOOK at these. my heart hurts like

3. In the darkest grays by @izlaria

[The sun bursts, clouds break.] Nico di Angelo loves in color. This is something that Will Solace has always known.

hi. i am obsessed w this fic. a nico character atudy that is disguised as will character study that IS a will character study........something something they are braided strings of fate something something....also! sally jackson my love!! she is everything to me and of COURSE she would show up here!! i am also obsessed w longtime pining will like is it even a solangelo fic if will has not been in the trenches since he was ten years old

4. eudaimonia by @forochel

Nico watched Percy wave his arms excitedly at Annabeth and breathed through the habitual twisting of his stomach. For a moment, he thought of walking over to them - ever the masochist, he thought wryly to himself - but then Annabeth threw her head back in a laugh, and Nico dismissed the thought. There would be another time and another place. ** Diverges SLIGHTLY from canon in that Nico does not confess to Percy right off the bat - he gets the chance to heal, find himself and a place to stand in camp, and form friendships. Also, attempts to fix the whole Solangelo shoehorning thing.

AUTHOR IF YOU ARE STILL ACTIVE. FOROCHEL IF YOU SEE THIS. I AM BEGGING. KNEES ON THE GROUND HANDS CLASPED ROSARY CHOKING LIKE A NOOSE. PLEASE. PLEASE UPDATE THIS SERIES IM BEGGING. I KNOW IT IS UNGRATEFUL BUT 20K IS NOT ENOUGH. THIS IS N I C O S VOICE. LIKE ACTUALLY. dude it KILLS me this is HIM 😭😭😭 i cannot get over how wonderful this is and how FRESH....like this came out right after boo! it was fresh in ur mind!! and you went CRAZY like this is SO SO GOOD!! this fic is CONSTANTLY rotating in my mind and i am constantly thinking about the path it carved.....hve never gotten over it ever

5. Baby Satyrs and Charming Boyfriends by @biancadiangeno / @fiestiest

Nico di Angelo had absolutely no idea how babysitting works, and Will Solace was having way too much fun teasing him to actually help out.

this fic is so silly and fun. i love it!! and the ending made me giggle will needed that humbling

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

[noahtally-famous]

Tell me about Picking Petals and that time travel AU of TDPI

Is the elimination order different, or does it go the same way as canon?

oh my godddd this ask has been sitting in my drafts for two months now i think?? ive been holding back on answering this bc i wanted to be in the right environment where i can infodump without getting interrupted. im so so super sorry for the long wait, i hope my response makes up for it!!

first of all, TYSM FOR THE ASK DUDE heads up you're gonna prob get a longass ramble abt this from me so yeah lmao without further ado, lets get into it!

PICKING PETALS:

the fic loml, the first EVER td fic i thought up and I've three chapters prewritten for it, half of the fic planned out/outlined, and so many scenes, moments, interactions, etc for it thought up. i'd gotten back into the fandom and while rewatching tdpi for the first time in 7 years i came up with this idea.

started off as purely self-indulgent bc i wanted to write my spin on the truth or scare episode, and then it turned into all this and im so living for it!!

dashawn-centric, obv. it veers off-course from canon during and after episode 4 (the truth or scare one). the overarching plot is 'what if dave and shawn kissed for the scare, and all the shenanigans that followed with getting feelings for someone you didn't expect all bc of one (1) kiss--as well as some other stuff that snowballs from it bc its total drama'. this is TOTALLY canon divergent. the elimination order is 90% different from canon. the characters get way more depth to the point where they may seem like different ppl with only their canon stereotypes reminding them of who they are in canon (not different as in like ooc btw before anyone jumps to that conclusion, i meant different as in a lot of the characters get more of a personality than what canon gave them lmao). a lot of my dave lore spawned thanks to this fic. dave, himself, gets such a fucking glowup from the 2D version of him canon gave while still retaining his 'normal guy' persona. same with shawn tbh, i love the expansion I've done for the characters in this fic ngl, but personally i love how dave turned out

dave & ella friendship, dave & sky friendship, background jasammy, jasmine & shawn friendship, sammy & shawn friendship, mild sammy & dave camaderie/friendship, sammy & amy development, dave & topher rivalry interactions, dave & scarlett interactions, shawn & topher rivalry, the final three being a ball of tension bc of enmity (i wont say who they are), ella getting her development, dives into character backstories and why they auditioned for td, tensionnn of all kinddd, dramaaa of all kinddd, scarlett's evilness actually being foreshadowed before the Great Reveal, etc etc the list just keeps on going!! these folks are gonna have tdi vibes--they're going to act like teens and befriend each other (or hate each other) bc canon tdpi sorely lacked that and imo the pi cast exudes found family vibes

due to how variant the elimination order is, i literally had to create two new challenges for two of the chapters, esp post-merge bc chris was interjecting himself into practically all the challenges in canon lmaoo also tdpi's eliminations were annoying bc why were there two double eliminations for literally no reason? that's gonna change here as well; no double eliminations, and there's gonna be a variant of elimination types (for example: there's gonna be a 'character is too injured to compete therefore obligatory elimination' type happening in this fic--hmmm i wonder who'll be behind the injury... and some more "scandalous" types bc this is total drama, it's not gonna live up to its name if there aren't any eliminations that are 'unfair'!)

starts from ep4 all the way to the finale--and speaking of the finale, the finalists are partly different from canon too. like i said, nearly everything diverges from canon to a degree. i kind of went nuts with this fic lmao its my bby, i treasure it with my heart, i want to write more for it, i want to publish it so badly, but my goal is to get at least 20 chapters into agtsta before publishing picking petals (tho idk i think that plan might change...im considering maybe giving myself breathing time to get more prewriting done until january before starting the new year off right with some picking petals posting!)

REWIND, REPEAT:

the time-travel au fic!! its still heavily in the works so im basically spitballing ideas here, but im thinking of two options.

dave time-travel route:

initially my idea for this fic (can you tell i love putting dave in situations? that boy deserves to be spun in a mixing bowl), and it'd be interesting bc he's sort of like an anti-villain?? bc its directly after the finale when he gets left behind and attacked by scuba bear. he comes across some malfunctioning tech on the island while running away and BOOM next thing he knows he's somehow zapped back to where and when it started--on the blimp at the very beginning of the season. so he is still reeling from everything that occurred and naturally he isn't feeling too lightly abt the whole ordeal

some of my mutuals may know this, but when i was like 10 and watched tdpi for the first time, i made notes for a season 2 au; it involved a personality shift for dave (even when i was 10 he was one of my favs). my idea in the notes was that he became a hollyleaf, if you know warrior cats lmao; he's more reserved, there's this inner turmoil and energy coiled in him, he's an enigma, he doesn't open up much, he has this Dark Secret vibe surrounding him, but he's also clever and will do anything to get to his goal and he has extensive knowledge of the island due to his time on there. this personality remains the same more or less in this fic. the catch is dave acts more in a villainy way but he doesn't rlly have what it takes to be a villain even though a part of him wants to (hence anti-villain). as much as he pretends he doesn't, he still has emotions--just heavily barricaded, and those emotions prevent him from fully losing his head. he forms an alliance with scarlett (and maybe topher??? idk why i love that trio sm, they would be so iconic when it came to villainy; bonus if sugar informally joins too, not as like a set part of their group tho bc she has her own agenda) and has one goal in mind: to get sky eliminated. gone is the lovestruck fool, he's revenge-driven and says he doesn't have time for love bc he's in it for the competition. (idk yet if there will be love interests for him or if this is just gonna be a dave-centric fic). the finalists are prob gonna be dave and sky bc that'd be fucking iconic after the build-up

shawn & dave friendship, topher & dave alliance, scarlett & dave alliance, sugar & dave hesitant alliance, sky & dave one-sided enmity, ella & dave friendship, maybe more depth abt beardo?? or leonard?? jasmine & dave mutual wariness and distrust, chris absolutely loving this version of dave

sammy time-travel route:

development (lots of development!) on sammy's end as well as her relationship with her sister amy. she'll prob be a finalist too?? or at least in the final four/three, and idk i want it to be a sammy & amy finale but idk if that's too cliche lmaoo i think it'd be interesting!

this one's different. shortly after tdpi ended, sammy partakes in a "controlled experiment" with several other teens with the reward of getting paid a somewhat hefty amount. she decides why not, seems simple enough, but when it's her turn there's a fluke and she gets chucked back in time to the beginning of tdpi (which was the last thing she'd been thinking abt before the experiment). however, maybe one or two episodes in, she decides to take charge in the situation she's going through and adopts a 'fuck it we ball' attitude abt the whole thing where she tries to be a different person--the kind of person she's always aspired to be like but amy had always belittled her for--and this makes her less of a pushover overtime and instead more bolder and persistent in getting as far as she can.

she makes new friends that she hadnt noticed or gotten the chance to become closer with when she initially was on the show. maybe ella & sammy friendship, jasammy, either scamy or scarlett & amy 'we're gonna betray each other' alliance OR scarlett & sammy 'friendship' OR a scarlett using manipulative tactics to play both sisters, etc etc.

both her version and dave's versions of this fic idea are different bc neither of them are fixated on the prize money. they have their own agendas for getting ahead of the rest. dave for revenge and beating sky; sammy for being the person she's always wanted to be and actually moving past the box amy placed her in.

third option (that i literally thought up like ten seconds after writing the sammy route):

COMBINE THE TWO OPTIONS, that'd be pretty sick ngl like dave's on the island when he flashes back and believes he's the only one in the past, but sammy, at the same time, had partaken in that experiment and flashed back to the past too; neither know the other is in the same predicament bc they try to hide it thinking they're the only one until like...later in when they start getting Suspicious and maybe some slip-ups occur bc they're tryna keep a low-profile but things happen y'know? they're 16 year olds who figured out time-travel exists, obv they're gonna fuck around and find out. possible alliance between the two once everything is out in the open? out of pure mutual beneficiary? it'd be funny bc both their personas are on opposing sides lmaoo dave & sky finale, with sammy and amy ending up post-merge? sammy's prob still gonna be in the final four, i think, but idk abt amy lmao i still think before amy gets eliminated she and sammy have a Confrontation bc i def need sammy to confront amy one way or another lmao that girl deserves it, they deserve a Heather & Lindsay Confrontation, sammy deserves to call amy a bitch on international television

ooooh and somehow scarlett finds out?? and tries to get her hands on the technology, but obv time is finicky so dave and sammy can't rlly allow that so they gotta stop her as a joint agenda while they have their own separate ones to deal with?? so this paves way for a true scarlett villain?? she'd make it to the final five or three, i think?

for this idea, there are gonna be multiple povs--dave and sammy's--and it's gonna be multi-plot too; dave and his conflict; sammy and her conflict; and how both alter the season bc of said conflicts and their attitudes abt them; plus the scarlett conflict

(y'know what i may end up going this route lmao bc i love both separate versions and im indecisive as fuck so my motto is if you can combine the options do it!)

[darsynia]

Modern Mythology | Ch1

(Tony Stark/OC; soulmate AU pre-Ultron, in 3 parts)

image from peakpx.com | gif from @anthonyed

Summary: Abigail Carson takes a chance on a second job as a courier in the hopes that it'll help her find her soulmate, whose words on her skin imply that he's signing for a package she delivers. When she hears the words spoken by Tony Stark, though, Abbi has second thoughts. She's practically a nobody!

Length: 3,974

MY MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER

Taglist: @starryeyes2000 @raith-way @arrthurpendragon, @starksbf

Excerpt:

Abbi pulled out the small clipboard from her pocket, flipped to the blank back of the package acceptance template, and wrote a message on it, sideways, in large block letters.

‘I AM NOT YOUR SOULMATE IF I HAVEN’T SAID YOUR WORDS!’

She held it up for when he turned around from scaring away her ride back to work. It took a little while, because unbelievably, the taxi driver was congratulating Stark on such a momentous occasion. Finally, he hit the top of the taxi with his Iron Man gauntlet and the woman drove away. A black SUV pulled up in its place almost immediately. As soon as he saw her holding up the clipboard, Stark came over to read it, standing too close for her comfort.

Abbi made the mistake of watching his face as he read. He’d walked over with an amused confidence, but a wall of defensiveness seemed to rise up in his expression and he looked her right in her eyes as soon as he finished reading.

“What, the giant tower and superhero suit didn’t go in the ‘Pros’ column?”

Chapter One: Goddess Observed

When Abigail’s mother pressed her to find her soulmate, Abbi had no idea that she’d learn that there was an underground courier culture in New York City. Her job at Vail & Nysa was great, even though she’d always wanted to finish her law degree, but there would be time for that someday. For now, being a paralegal was close enough, and it had unexpectedly opened up a secondary opportunity.

Apparently, there were levels of being a courier. Abbi had thought that she’d end up picking up and dropping off things in lobbies here and there on her way to work and on her lunch break. But as soon as she walked into the downtown office of You Send Me, the receptionist took one look at her professional clothing and sent her upstairs. There wasn’t a receptionist there, just a clipboard with names that had been blacked out as they were seen, it looked like. Hoping this wasn’t a secret first step to a fifty-step process of earning a job at Google she didn’t intend on taking, Abbi wrote down Abigail Carson and sat down to wait with her hands in her lap. Work had been a half day anyway, so she had the time to find out what kind of mysterious chance she might be given. 

It took almost a half hour. She (of course) didn’t check her watch, certain that that would be noticed. The longer she sat, the more Abbi was consumed with curiosity. As much as she could, though, she kept her green eyes trained on a spot on the wall in front of her, and tried not to touch the chignon her shoulder-length brown hair was styled into. Inside, her mind swirled with possibilities. Outside, she was the picture of a calm, collected young woman.

“Ms. Carson?” The speaker was an older woman garbed in rich purple and covered with jewelry. Sometimes Abbi really loved when New York City lived up to its mythos.

As it turned out, You Send Me had a higher-end courier business whose employees were hand-picked and mostly consisted of young women dressed as if for the boardroom or court. At its heart, Courier and Ives was, Mrs. Violet Walsingham told Abbi, a business trying to cater to companies who didn’t want a disruptive, enthusiastic young delivery person in street clothes bopping in to deliver something sensitive or vital in nature.

That was when Abbi asked point-blank if it was a disguised escort service. Mrs. Walsingham cackled and begged her to sign up, even if she only delivered packages once a week. She told Abbi that while yes, professional young women rarely had the chance to meet men outside their own office during work hours, and Courier and Ives did end up facilitating that sometimes, their reputation as a courier service was impeccable. 

Abbi showed the woman her soulmark, confessed her reasons for applying, and was told she was exactly the kind of young woman they were looking for.

Her mother was full of delight when Abbi told her about what happened. Demi Carson had lived an adventurous life, and she was always encouraging Abbi to live hers to the fullest as much as possible. Their family vacations were always to as exotic a location as they could afford, the schedule packed with anything that looked unique and challenging. They hadn’t always felt safe but they’d always had a good story to tell later.

Secretly, Abbi had always wondered if her mom had married Atticus Carson because his name was unique. Her father had been dour but loving, and any fights she’d ever observed had stemmed from a conflict of personalities. That conflict was embodied in Abbi herself in many ways-- she was adventurous but economical, free-spirited as much as possible while still grounded in the here and now. If it was within her budget and didn’t risk her future, Abigail Carson liked taking a chance on something exciting. 

Courier and Ives was right up her alley. She couldn’t wait to start.

Her biggest hope was that she’d run into her soulmate, who would be an up-and-coming executive type with a head for business and a heart for taking a few measured chances. Her biggest fear was that her soulmate would actually turn out to be a big-spender, big-risk type of guy whose lifestyle would fill her with the kind of dread she watched her father deal with when her mother was in one of her moods. Before they’d lost him to a heart attack, her father had told her he’d loved his life, and the only thing he would have changed was perhaps trying to temper his wife’s most grandiose tendencies. Abbi’s soulmark did imply that the speaker would be someone who wouldn’t ordinarily take deliveries, but she didn’t worry about that too much. If he was her soulmate, they were made for each other, and it would be worth it, just like her parents’ marriage was. They’d been soulmates too.

By a month into the job, Abbi was starting to enjoy the excited rush she felt every time she walked up to a man to hand over a discreet package. Her soulmate words had turned a job that already let her observe various exclusive offices and meetings into an exciting chance at a new life! She got a message every few days, though today had been day four since her last one. When she stopped by on her lunch hour to pick it up, she was surprised to see that it was to Avengers Tower. 

The re-named Stark Tower was a different kind of ‘exclusive’ than the expensive, chic office spaces that Courier and Ives women were often sent to. There wasn’t just a chance at running into a wealthy executive there, but also bona-fide superheroes. It was a plum job, and Abbi was the newest employee. She asked Mrs. Walsingham if there had been a mistake.

“No mistake, sweetheart! We accepted delivery of this item from a confidential source and it needs to be run over to the tower. You’re the only one with availability in the next hour. If Minthe Lawson gives you grief about it, you come to me, got it?” The kindly old lady gave Abbi a once-over. “That gold-colored suit is absolutely stunning. One of Stark’s favorite colors, I hear!”

Inwardly, Abbi winced. Anthony Stark was one person she would be happy to miss seeing-- as handsome as he was, the man was a walking PR disaster. Reportedly, he’d been building some kind of robot army after his girlfriend and CEO of his company had left him a few months ago. Just being an unfamiliar young woman in his general proximity would probably be enough to get his attention nowadays, or so the tabloids said, much less wearing his favorite color. Her mother had bought her the suit jacket and miniskirt set, and always loved seeing her wearing it for work. There were few opportunities where she could wear it, because paralegals were to be seen and not heard, at her firm (and she preferred it that way), but today was a celebration for a successful win of the case she’d been working on, and Abbi had made an exception. The skirt was shorter than she was used to, too. 

Gritting her teeth, she left, hoping she’d get through Avengers Tower without running across its most famous resident. The object looked like a suitcase, but after the incident at Monaco Abbi knew that an object going to Stark Industries could be anything disguised as anything. Her credentials got her through the door just fine, and she was sent up to the 72nd floor to a conference room.

She tapped lightly on the door and it opened inward. Slowly, Abbi walked into the doorway, where she was faced with all of the Avengers, at least the ones she could recognize.

“Tony, a scared-looking delivery girl is here with the suitcase you had made for the scepter,” a man dressed all in black said. He smiled at her in a kindly sort of way, turning around to call for Stark again. On his back was an actual quiver full of arrows.

“Oh, that’s not necessary, I could probably give this to any one of you?” Abbi said desperately. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the card with the instructions. “Yes. Avengers or associated staff. I’ll just--” she turned to look for someone much more junior and less busy to hand the object off to.

“Found him,” the archer sing-songed.

Abbi stopped short. With a pasted-on smile, she turned around and was faced with Tony Stark. He was dressed in a band t-shirt and jeans, and he must have been laughing with one of the other people in the room before being called over, because his smile was bright, genuine, and devastating. Abbi had always thought he was handsome in magazine pictures, read articles that called him charismatic, but she’d never seen such clear evidence of the difference between a picture and a person before.

Tony Stark was magnetizing, and she’d only been around him for three seconds so far.

For his part, Stark seemed to find her interesting as well, which was disconcerting for Abbi. He leaned his head back and regarded her, the initial brilliant smile on his face morphing into an impressed, pleased look.

“I wonder where Violet keeps finding so many respectable young women,” he said under his breath. Then, over his shoulder to another man, he added, “You’d think she would run out, after a while.”

Abbi had been trained to be polite, gracious, even accommodating, but she felt objectified, and it made her actions a bit stiff. She held out the suitcase with a strained, silent smile. He gestured to the table beside him for her to set it down, his eyes narrowing just a touch in recognition of her attitude. Stark was a tech genius, yes, but he bucked their trend of being awkward and unskilled with women. He could tell she disapproved of him. Abbi felt her face flush at the subtle rebuke, and pulled out a small clipboard for his signature. Apologizing would just make things worse.

“You didn’t expect me to be the one to sign for this, did you?” he asked as he bent over the flat surface to scribble his signature.

Abbi’s grip on the clipboard failed on hearing her soulmark words. Her heart started pounding and she felt goosebumps rise on her arms. It was as if his words had loosened the cork that had been holding back all possible reactions to hearing her soulmate’s first words, and in a fluke of fate, she was feeling all of them at once. Horror, excitement, attraction, repulsion.

Stark reached out quickly to steady the clipboard with his other hand as he finished signing, looking up at her quizzically. 

If fate had decreed her soulmate was Tony Stark and she apologized for letting go, those would be the words written on his body somewhere. But what if it was a coincidence? Surely that phrase had been spoken before and would be again? Abbi dipped her head in a silent goodbye, pressed her lips together in case she accidentally said something, and turned to go, moving quickly to escape the situation.

“Hey, Cleopatra in the gold suit! Gonna need this.”

She stopped a foot from the elevator button, and Stark walked over to hand her the clipboard, looking a bit regretful to give it back, for some reason. Abbi took it, pulling out the side of her jacket to tuck it into the inside pocket. She felt dizzy, almost like she was observing herself from the outside, and some of that must have shown on her face.

“You all right? Here,” he said, reaching out to tap the button for the elevator. “Look at me,” Stark commanded, and she let out a quick breath to steady herself before lifting her eyes to his. “Green!” he said with a slow, pleased smile. Abbi had to fight back a feeling of pride, as if it should matter whether this man liked the color of her eyes. “Well, Emerald Eyes, you seem to be experiencing Superhero Swoon, which is understandable after being confronted with a room full of them. I’m happy to offer a manful shoulder should you so require?”

Abbi shook her head right as the elevator doors opened, offering an apologetic smile as she scurried inside.

“No name, not even for the review?”

She shook her head again.

“Silent rabbit mode it is, then. I’ll just have to have something else delivered. Until next time!” Stark said with an impish grin just as the doors closed.

“Oh my God, that did not just happen. Please tell me that did not just happen!” Abbi said out loud to the empty elevator, groaning. “It was a fluke. That’s what it was. It only counts if I say his words back, and I am not going to, because there’s no way in hell that Tony Stark is my soulmate. Nope!” A voice in her head that sounded an awful lot like her mother’s pointed out that he was wealthy, handsome, and a certified genius, but most importantly, not in any way boring! Abbi had quite a lot of experience ignoring her mother’s voice in her head, however. Where most women heard their mother’s voice criticizing them, hers was like the impulsive devil on her shoulder.

It was practically inconceivable that someone of Stark’s stature would be unbonded at his age anyway. And he’d just broken up with his long-term girlfriend. The man had clearly not been concerned with finding his soulmate and hadn’t been for years. As far as Abbi was concerned, if she was his soulmate, he never had to find out. She left the elevator, nodded to the front desk person, and walked outside. Her plan was to call a taxi and never set foot in the tower again.

She raised a hand for a taxi and saw one that had been idling at the corner a block away put on its turn signal. The driver waved at her, and Abbi waved back.

Suddenly, Iron Man came flying down from the top of the tower, landing on one knee in front of her before straightening up. The faceplate flipped up to show Tony Stark.

“So, funny thing about the elevators in my tower. They’re run by my AI, JARVIS, who likes to pass on any pertinent information spoken in his presence.” Stark’s brown eyes were bright, hopeful, and fixed on her. His demeanor was placating, holding out one hand as if begging her to stay put.

Abbi almost told him she was sorry but there was probably a mistake. Then she realized that if there wasn’t a mistake, those would be the words written on his body. He deserved better than that. He deserved a fancy celebrity soulmate, not a young woman looking at turning thirty with half of the goals she’d made at twenty still unfulfilled! So she shook her head at him and pointed at the taxi that pulled up right then.

To her immense frustration, Stark leaned over, mimed rolling down a window, and told the taxi driver that he and his soulmate were having a one-sided conversation, and to move on.

Abbi pulled out the small clipboard from her pocket, flipped to the blank back of the package acceptance template, and wrote a message on it, sideways, in large block letters.

I AM NOT YOUR SOULMATE IF I HAVEN’T SAID YOUR WORDS!

She held it up for when he turned around from scaring away her ride back to work. It took a little while, because unbelievably, the taxi driver was congratulating Stark on such a momentous occasion. Finally, he hit the top of the taxi with his Iron Man gauntlet and the woman drove away. A black SUV pulled up in its place almost immediately. As soon as he saw her holding up the clipboard, Stark came over to read it, standing too close for her comfort.

Abbi made the mistake of watching his face as he read. He’d walked over with an amused confidence, but a wall of defensiveness seemed to rise up in his expression and he looked her right in her eyes as soon as he finished reading.

“What, the giant tower and superhero suit didn’t go in the ‘Pros’ column?”

Something inside her twisted up to hear the vulnerability in his tone. She ruthlessly suppressed them. This man wasn’t for her. It just wasn’t possible. Abbi tried to flip to a new page, but the one she’d just written on came loose. He stopped the small, square note card from flying away by stepping on it, then Stark leaned over and picked it up.

“Would you believe this thing doesn’t have pockets? Back to the drawing board,” he joked. It was impossible not to laugh. “Got you,” he said softly. Even as she was writing another message for him, Stark reached out and rested his gauntleted hand on the clipboard, then took it from her entirely. He glanced at what she’d started writing (‘I need to get back to work and you just took my ride!’) and nodded. “I called one of my guys, he’ll drive you wherever you want, and I made him promise not to tell me where, even.”

Abbi looked up at him in surprise. The vulnerability and defensiveness were still there, but there was stubborn amusement in his expression now, as well.

“You still need to be convinced,” he said. Abbi shook her head and looked at her watch. The office party would start in twenty minutes, and Stark looked like he had twenty minutes’ worth of arguing in him. “Listen,” he said, stepping even closer.

She crossed her arms to put a little distance between them, but the action emphasized the small bit of cleavage her blouse showed, and she saw him notice that. There was definitely a heat between them, but she was willing to ignore it. The man probably had heat with everyone, honestly.

Stark pointed between the two of them as he started speaking again. “You doubt this soulmate thing is real, but that doubt is a point in your favor. Do you know how many women would fake my words if they knew what they were? And here you are, you could say anything, and that’s what they’d be. Embrace the power, Iris.” He paused, clearly saw her brows furrowed in confusion, and added, “I don’t know if soulmate words change, but please don’t turn mine into a question about Greek mythology. Iris, female messenger to the Gods.” He grinned. “Feel free to say, ‘Does that mean you think you are a god?’ because that would be badass. I’d be happy to give up my current soulmark if that’s what the new one was.”

Abbi shook her head. She felt lightheaded again, but instead of dizziness, it was a kind of excited anticipation. He obviously was convinced they were soulmates, and despite herself, she was influenced by that a little bit. Her practicality won out, though. She was going to be late for work, and he was a billionaire. The sun was not destined to fall in love with a fluorescent lightbulb! Abbi stepped back from Stark, sighed, and walked over to the car.

He opened the door and ushered her in. “This is Happy Hogan, he’ll take you to work. Happy, we agreed you wouldn’t tell me anything she said, right?”

“Right,” the round-faced man in the front seat said.

“His AI monitors the car, doesn’t it?” Abbi asked Hogan.

“It sure does,” Hogan said, grinning at Stark.

“Traitor,” Stark said. He shifted his gaze to Abbi, and she could see admiration in it. “I like smart women. Even ones smart enough to want to stay far away from me.”

Before she could react to that, he stepped back, shut the door, and activated his suit, flying straight up and out of her line of sight.

“I wish I could re-do this entire day,” Abbi sighed, throwing her head back in the seat and closing her eyes tightly.

“I get that a lot,” Hogan said sympathetically. “Where can I drive you?”

“My mother used to always answer, ‘Crazy,’ but I think that’s the location I am currently leaving at the moment. How about the Solow Building?”

True to his word, Hogan delivered her to her workplace and didn’t even ask her name. His only concession to the strangeness of the situation was when he pulled up to the building and then turned to speak to her.

“I know you’ve got to make up your own mind, here, but I would be eternally grateful if you would just do one thing for me.”

Abbi eyed him warily. “What?”

“I’ve heard of soulmate words changing in very rare situations. I’ve seen his, so I know what you’re supposed to say, but if you could change them to, I don’t know, ‘Happy says you’re a good guy, so I guess we’re doing this’ or something like that--”

“Unlock the door?”

“Fair enough.”

The rest of Abbi’s day passed so normally that she managed to pretend that nothing had happened, right up until she walked in the door and saw her mom. She looked like she was having a good, calm day. Not the kind of day where she needed to stress out about something that momentous and world-changing. Abbi did her best to deflect questions, made them leftovers from the day before, and checked to be sure that her mom had taken all the pills she needed to before heading to her room to study up on the next case she’d be working on.

“Something happened today, didn’t it?”

Abbi looked up to see her mom in her doorway. “What makes you say that?” she asked, putting a bookmark in the tome she’d been reading.

“You usually relax when you come home. You take off the masks you had to wear to get through the day. Today, you’re still wearing them.”

“Something so bizarre happened today that I’m still processing it. I’ll tell you when I figure it out, okay?” Abbi confessed.

“Well, don’t wait too long. Clock’s ticking!” Demi Carson said, laying a dramatic wrist on her own forehead.

“You know, some mothers take a diagnosis like yours seriously, just saying,” Abbi laughed. Her mother had never taken anything seriously in her life, not if she could help it. That didn’t mean she was being irresponsible about it, just irreverent. It was equal parts frustrating and uplifting, depending on the day. The jury was out for how today was going to feel. They had a few weeks before the scan to see if her current treatment was effective. Even if it was, Abbi was grateful she’d moved back in to care for her, despite the rather dramatic role-reversals that happened between them sometimes.

“Some mothers never took their children out of the country. Some mothers haven’t even tried marijuana. Some mothers have the decency to move to the suburbs when they get old. I’m not some mothers.”

“You are not old, go to bed.”

“Yes, dear.”

Next chapter, Tony wages an all-out war to persuade Abbi that she should accept him as her soulmate.

[alienaiver]

Chapter 1: miles

Chapter summary: your father has passed and you must stand up with your head held high as you accept your fate - you mustn’t show the overwhelm on your face. as you meet your new advisor for the first time, hope sprouts in the deepest part of you.

Warnings for this chapter: mentions of parental death, i’m exploring grief but only mildly as it is not entirely the main focus. Otherwise, it’s fluffy and world-building-ish

Wordcount: 8.7k words

Chapter content: fluff, sfw, fantasy AU, royalty AU, mild angst, genderneutral reader (so neutral that both men and women can also insert themselves), poc and bodytype! friendly reader, no use of y/n, tense and offical language from idiot to idiot, budding romance

notes: here is the first chapter!! i gotta admit, im actually very nervous about this. i know its good!!! but like!! does it make sense? to other people? this was honestly an imprompto idea i came up with and decided “heck, itll be good practice for my own fantasy book” and then. sat down LMFAO. ive never written medieval fantasy like this before and i think thats where my nervousness stems from! i also made sure to make the reader as gender neutral as possible since i usually only stumble upon afab!readers in fantasy and i wanted to provide some more <33333

series masterlist ┋  next

Truth be told you were never the proper heir you were supposed to have been at 25 years of age. You’d already assumed the title Crown-in-Waiting at the age of 17, marking the official beginning of your training to become the ruler of Karasuno Kingdom.

But with a young father in prime health, the start of your title’s work had been slow. He’d seen no reason to hurry with the preparations of you taking over the throne as he saw himself with many years to rule still. Your education, of course, began in childhood and you were familiar with communications between the territories and you were even with land to steward already. The peace treaty between Karasuno Kingdom and the Nekoma States four years ago were done by yours truly, heralded as such in stories, albeit it was with your crown’s supervision. You’ve been talked of as the Bringer of Serenity by the Farseers and even in the songs written by the minstrels, a Catalyst for Unity. The titles make heat flush to your face and a desire to hide your face in your hands emerge from you, but you’ve been very grateful with the positive tone your kingdom’s had with you so far even with your inexperience.

 So when tragedy strikes, you’re taken aback abruptly and the walls that’s been protecting you for your entire life crumbles around you. The physical walls of the Karasu Keep are still very much intact but that does nothing to quell the grief that emerges from deep inside of you at the news. The crown’s death is a shock to everyone from the coastal regions and well through the inland duchies and it strikes the kingdom with sorrow as it hits the keep where you’ve just spent the past few days in practical leisure, awaiting the return of your father.

You don’t understand. This was a routine trip – one to keep up the agreements between Karasuno Kingdom and the Fukurodani Empire that your father journeyed every year to show the kingdom’s appreciation of cooperation. The trading between the two kingdoms had both risen and prospered with the proper and legal routes to jewels, silks, and leathers. You grasp at the necklace around your neck with the Moonstone embedded, gifted to you by said empire as you try to control your breathing. Your drawing room’s filled with servants, all frozen and observing you horribly, unsure of how to help you handle the news that the poor errand boy came running into your quarters with mere moments ago.

“I wish to be left.” is all you can mutter out before you fall back on the armchair you rose from at the errand boy’s arrival. Everyone scrambles to leave except for your closest maidservant and dear friend, Azumane. As silence drapes over the room like a blanket, you belatedly realize you’d dropped the book you were reading on the floor – you’d probably have to search a while for the page you’d reached. You can’t seem to remember what page you’d last counted.

Azumane’s hands are holding your left, drawing circles into the palm in what he hopes is a calming gesture, “I’m so sorry for your loss, your Majesty.” he tries but you internally tut at the formality of his words. Those are words from a servant, not from a friend. And you’d like your friend at this moment.

“Oh, what am I to do, Asahi?” you ask him but you’d be surprised if he had any other answer than the one you already know. You sigh and look out the window to your left, at the unchanged scenery of the mountains that’s currently covered in the whitest snow. No one climbs them during this time of year.

He mirrors you with a sigh and it’s clear he’s struggling to hold back tears. Yours has yet to come. An official declaration has to be called, a notice to mark the Seven days of Mourning before you will have to claim the throne as the next crown. You will have to contact your father’s advisor, the knights, figure out if and where his body might be located so you can go forth with the burial on the seventh day or if you need to reschedule the mourning of the kingdom. You know the errand boy down from the kitchens and you’re convinced of the fact that he raced to inform you as soon as the runner had returned with the news. You might even have been told before your father’s advisor who stayed home from the journey, seeing as it had been a supposedly friendly meet with long-standing and positive relationships. You inhale sharply before you once again rise from the chair with a heavy look in your eyes. You must endure the entire country’s grief as a seed next to your own and handle the duties passed on to you with as much flawless grace as possible as to not rouse any mistrust with neighboring kingdoms.

                                                        ///

Curiously and almost miraculously, Sugawara has never formally been introduced to you or met you even though he’s been living in the keep almost as long as you, only short of the first 11 years of his life. You and he have even shared the same scribe tutoring you in both letters and numbers when you were younger, but somehow your ways never intertwined growing up.

 That doesn’t mean Sugawara doesn’t know you.

 You’ve always made your dutiful appearances in the royal court and the lands you’ve stewarded through the years have always described you as proper and good at handling your responsibilities. Your studies are known and remarkable throughout the lands and he’s sure that like every other bachelorette and bachelor in this land, he blushes at your gentle smiles you grace your people with. Your speeches are always bubbling over with love for your kingdom and your people and there’s no doubt in his heart that you were meant for the role you’ve been given in life. You’re a star in your own right.

 He's also been blessed personally, a few colorful times in his life as the advisor’s successor, to eye contact directly from you in court or during festivities. It’s taken everything in him always to keep it, to prolong the fortunate moment where the two of you are connected in more than just being in the same hall.

His friends have teased him that he should get used to your blazing gaze connecting with his, seeing how much you’ll be together once you become crown.

 In the Karasuno Kingdom, it is not uncommon for the royal advisor of the current crown to resign and pass over their role to their own successor when the crown changes heads. Which is also why, he thinks, that they’ve never introduced the two of you. Both the current crown himself and his advisor were sure of his long life yet, full of vitality and youth. There was no reason to start cooperating between the Crown-in-Waiting and their advisor before it was deemed necessary. Sugawara’s always been impatient since he’s known who he was supposed to work with and support since childhood and looked forward to it with an almost fanatical excitement. But this? This isn’t how he’s ever pictured your meeting before.

Which is funny because he’s always known his supposedly exciting work wouldn’t begin until his crown passed away. He writes it down to the fact that he started his apprenticeship when he was still too young to know what that entailed yet and thereafter hasn’t given the procedure of the start much thought. Much like a child learning they’ll inherit something from a parent when they pass and being excited for that day to come before understanding the implication.

 His teacher is pacing around the tower room that has been Sugawara’s study since childhood, muttering curses and grudges to himself. The “this wasn’t supposed to happen” seems to be the most recurring phrase in his current, panic-induced vocabulary. Sugawara wants to be understanding and empathetic towards his teacher who has just learned the news that his superior and dearest friend has passed away in an untimely fashion but he also can’t help but dread how the current situation looks – to the outside, mostly. He knows you’re popular and well-liked within the walls of their keep and in the kingdom as a whole but it’s no secret even across their borders that you’re sitting very much ill-prepared for the challenge you’re going to have to face now. The crown has often – though most times have been in an inebriated state – proudly announced that he kept you off of the usual Crown-in-Waiting duties so that you could enjoy a free life as long as possible.

Sugawara’s not even sure how much practical knowledge you even possess, having not been the one advising you until now (not that anyone has, the position has been formally his since you entered the Crown-in-Waiting title eight years ago.)

 His mentor, who’s been very much like a father to him too, takes in a deep, steadying breath and then turns to Sugawara, “I am not allowed to introduce you until the Seven Days of Mourning has passed since it will count as official work not to do with the burial. You must prepare as much as you possibly are able to within the walls of this study but keep your focus on politics, the public relations, and laws so that you will be best prepared in the immediate affairs they might have to deal with.”

Sugawara nods and start to walk towards the bookcases lining the far wall, filled with both books, scrolls and study notes he’s accumulated over the years. The four bookcases had intimidated him back when he just began, so empty safe for a few five to ten books and scrolls. His teacher had proudly told him of how full they’d become when he was done and he’d scarcely believed him. But here he is over 15 years later with books stacked on the floor due to lack of space.

With tears lining his lower lash line, he starts reading up on the most recent border and trade laws engaged with the southern duchies, guessing trouble might rise there first.

                                                        ///

It is the Seventh Day of Mourning and tomorrow he will have to work side-by-side with a grieving Crown-in-Waiting turning leader of a whole kingdom. The burial of the king has finished a mere few hours ago and Sugawara’s currently in the servant’s kitchens with his close friend, head of the Royal Guards, Sawamura Daichi, drinking ale and eating the simple feast that marks the end of the Mourning.

There will be days of preparation before the crowning will commence. All the coastal and inland dukes have to be gathered and publicly announce their agreement and support to the Crown-in-Waiting for the coronation before they can presume their role as the rightful ruler of this country. However, Sugawara is officially able to be announced your advisor tomorrow as it requires a much smaller ceremony, one that mostly includes a few elected officials and his own teacher. And most nerve-wrackingly,

You.

 “I hope the precious Crown-in-Waiting is prepared for what’s coming.”

Sawamura sounds bitter and Sugawara’s actually surprised he doesn’t put his mug down harder than he does. He raises an eyebrow silently at his friend, deciding to give him the free space to vent his rage. He knows it’s not about the Crown-in-Waiting at all. Sawamura slurs out some more profanities and when he’s about to mutter out words that border on the line of treason thanks to the amount of ale he’s taken in, Sugawara shuts him up, “I know you feel guilty but you’ll be banished if you utter out any more words.” He takes the mug from the head of the Royal Guard calmly as if looking for a fight but his friend lets him, lets him wrap his arm around his shoulders so he can carry him back to the barracks. Sawamura is one of the important people meant to oversee his friend’s own inaugural ceremony as the official royal advisor so Sugawara would like him in proper shape.

 Outside in the courtyard, Sawamura gets queasy and Sugawara sighs over the fact that he didn’t stop him from drinking sooner. He lets him bend over a bush and turn away from the sounds of his friend spilling out his emotional guts.

“Are you ever punished if you get vomit on the armor?” he asks his best friend to lighten the mood, halfway to the barracks. Sawamura grunts in response and gags again, this time with a low, self-deprecating laugh following to signal he’s just messing with Sugawara. “Daichi.” Sugawara says sternly as if to remind him that he’s currently doing him a favor, dragging him away before he makes a mess or even loses his title and work.

“You’ll protect the new crown too, right?” Sugawara can’t help but ask as he eyes the lights of the entrance. He knows his friend would never betray the Crown no matter who wore it but he fears he feels too guilty to serve properly. When Sawamura doesn’t answer he says his entire name in a reprimanding manner, hoping to get a proper response. Sawamura drags his arm back from Sugawara and he lets him, watches him bend down to a squat next to him on the ground, “I killed him, Koushi. It’s my fault.”

It’s all he lets out and Sugawara has to drag him back up again with a reprimand of too much ale. Luckily, a few of his Guardsmen, Tanaka and Nishinoya are enjoying the fresh air of the night and casual talk outside the barracks and spot them when they’re near. They thank Sugawara for his help and promise to get their commander back in bed safely.

The walk back to the keep isn’t far, especially when you aren’t carrying your heavy-hitter Royal Guard Commander of a friend over your shoulder. Sugawara sighs out as he looks up at the sky. The stars are visible tonight and he tries to recall the constellations he was taught once. He almost wants to laugh at himself for his inability to use the stars – he hopes he doesn’t ever have to guide his crown through wilderness with only the stars to guide him. He’d never get them to safety. If he makes sure Azumane is with you, he’s convinced you’ll be fine. He sees his own breath in the air and chases it with his hand, reaching towards the sky as if asking for guidance.

 Still, Sawamura’s words haunt him. Everyone knows it wasn’t anywhere near his fault that their crown has tragically passed and no one is accusing him of the death but Sugawara thinks that he can understand the knight’s pride. He was with the crown when he passed, surrounded by savage bandits of unknown origins, unable to protect his sworn crown and get him home safely and alive. Sugawara feels a shiver run down his back from the thought of the pain he must be going through -and the survivor’s guilt that must be pooling in his gut, gnawing, growing, and taking form. He knows Sawamura would’ve given his own life had it saved the ruler of their beloved kingdom. He’s suddenly glad that Sawamura has other knights to take care of him too, people who will get his devotion and hurt better than Sugawara, a meager advisor who has scarcely left the Karasu Keep growing up except for going to the three nearby and local towns. A man who’s never known the blood or the decisions of the battlefield. He bows slightly and mentally thanks Sawamura’s men in the guard for also guarding him as he gives the stars a final look.

   The sky outside is clear and Sugawara can faintly hear the birds from the big oak tree outside of the stained-glass window in his study. Like many nights before, he’s taken to sleeping in the quarters of his books and parchments, comforted by the scent of his candles and the endless pages. The calm doesn’t last long before the door swings open and his mentor hurries inside and closes the door with a back-kick, “I’ve been looking all over for you, Koushi! You must prepare for the ceremony at once!”

He’s tutting at him but he nonetheless places a tray with breakfast in front of him – one of finer quality than Sugawara is used to seeing and he can’t stop himself from tracing the veins of the wood. It’s carvings is compelling and beautiful.

He hears his mentor scoff at him, “Koushi! No time! Eat your fill �� I know you’re prone to a bigger filling of grain but I know you. If you eat too much, you’ll be nauseous during the ceremony!” he sits down on the chair opposite of the desk and pushes air out through his nose, “imagine that! So focused on your own stomach you won’t hear a word being said to you by the crown!”

Sugawara laughs cheerfully and pulls the tray closer to him, delighted at the sight of a cup with flower tea. His mentor has always treated him to this exclusive tea during milestones of his training. “What? Are you speaking from experience?” he jokes as he takes the first bite of the bread from the side, already buttered. Based on the fillings, he suspects it’s the kitchen matron who’s prepared this. She’s always enjoyed treating him, complimenting him on his polite and kind behavior (when he in truth was sent on a test by his mentor to test his conversational skills in regard to intercepting information not given easily or for free).

His mentor scoffs again and jerks his head up in mock-offense, “I know of no such thing.”

Sugawara laughs and reaches for the glass of water. It’s cold and newly pumped and he feels he’s in for a treat with this lavish breakfast he’s being given. His mentor sighs out before he relaxes down into the chair, “is there a particular reason you did not sleep in your quarters tonight?” he asks, his fingers intertwining on his lap. The question is calculated, his eyes drilling into Sugawara who winces. “It’s better here.” Is all he can really come up with and his mentor smiles before sighing again – a nostalgic one, one that reminds of good old days. For a moment it feels to Sugawara like time has stopped and it’s just the two of them, in the study, as it has always been. “And so we all know that feeling. I’m going to miss our days together, young lad.”

Sugawara swallows a spoonful of grain thickly at the weary words. He knows this is his awkward way of saying his goodbyes before the world starts turning again. In a matter of moments after his breakfast is finished, he will have to go straight to Kinoshita to be fitted so he can adorn his newly embroidered uniform and meet you in the royal court for the séance that will put him under you officially.

 The robe that he’s wearing fits him to a T. He doesn’t expect it not to with the master dressmakers on board. Azumane was originally scouted and traveled to the Karasu Keep in order to be trained to become head seamster for the royal court but gained such a deep connection with the Crown Child that he chose to become their maid servant and simply oversee the needlework made. His mentor had left him in rage then, traveled to another kingdom in search of a new heir but Sugawara knew that Azumane never regretted the decision.

Still, just because the robes fit him doesn’t mean it’s not uncomfortable. It’s weighty, long and the sleeves are bigger than what he’s used to. He knows it’s a formality and that he will most likely only have to wear this for official appearances in court and at meetings but he fears how he will handle ink and glasses of water with this garment on. A creeping panic suddenly dawns on him; is he supposed to always wear this in your presence? As he looks at himself in the looking glass, he tries to fix his hair – the tuft of hair sticking up looks out of place in such delicate robes.

 There’s not much time to think any more fearful thoughts on the fabrics bestowed upon him before Sawamura enters the room, all noise and intimidation from the sound of him walking in the Royal Festive Armor. Its black and sleek and Sawamura’s holding the helmet under his arm. His surcoat is in the new orange colors adorning the crow’s head made to be used for your reign. The former crown’s design was very much similar and varied only in color and pose of the crow. The helmet under Sawamura’s arm also resembles a crow’s head but only enough to be able to tell if you knew.

It's generally an impractical armor and Sugawara’s glad he doesn’t have to wear it – quietly doubts if he’d be strong enough to keep standing with the weight of it. He keeps that thought to himself as his friend gives him a hug and a pat on the back. “Your new uniform suits you,” Sawamura muses as he gives his friend a look-over, “you’ve finally grown into your title.”

There’s a smirk on his face as he teases Sugawara with that compliment. It wasn’t too long after Sawamura got instated as the Royal Guard Commander that Sugawara had wailed to his friend over mugs of ale about how he wanted a title soon too and how he felt left behind. Sugawara sticks out his tongue at his friend, “at least my robes are way more comfortable than all your shiny garments!” he retorts and Sawamura simply shakes his head at his friend and lets him have the win. Sugawara scoffs at the patronizing act but visibly still relishes in the win.

The seamstress bows at him as he proceeds to pack down his kit of threads that he used for the minor adjustments. Sugawara can’t help but notice the abundance of golden and silver threads too, straightening his back at the realization that he’ll also be doing your final fitting. He leaves with yet another bow and he smile tensely at his leaving form. He’s not sure he’ll get used to the formalities of his new title – after all, he’s been the errand boy for most of the keep for so many years, never regarded as anything more than another young boy running from the stables to the kitchens in search of adventure and possibly an opportunity to steal a light snack before supper. Kinoshita, the seamster taking care of his gown, was one of the boys he used to run around with. It’s odd, he thinks.

 Sugawara is pulled out of his stupor by the door being thrown open in haste, much like this morning in his study and he is in no way surprised to see his mentor beam at him proudly, a tear threatening to spill from his lash line. He lifts up his arms as he approaches, “oh my young boy,” he starts and Sugawara laughs and reciprocates the movement of extending his arms before he does a spin to show his beloved mentor and parental figure his new uniform and start of his new life. He’s enveloped in a tight hug and sees Sawamura cackle off to the side at the display of a proud parent embarrassing their child in front of their friends. He rolls his eyes and hugs back, “thank you for everything.”

He wants to say more, express more feelings but his mentor pushes him back to arm’s length and inhales sharply, his eyes screwed shut. He exhales slowly before he takes another look at the boy I front of him, all grown into the man he helped him become. Words would not suffice for any of the emotions both of them are feeling and hums out an affirmation that his feelings have reached him. It’s an entirely intimate moment for both of them before they hug again, fast, as a finality. This will be Sugawara’s new path. His own path, on his own two legs. He hopes he’s strong enough to carry the will of you and the kingdom with him.

                                                        ///

 You’re pacing around the room, anxious and fidgeting. Besides your beloved father and former crown’s funeral, this will be your first order of business – which feels immense and heavy, even if no decisions are put on you except for the appearance to ordinate your new advisor’s role. You envy him for being a thousand leagues more prepared than you. You hope he’s kind.

You know he is.

He’s never been a stranger to you in all fairness. You’ve observed him, embarrassingly often. At first it was genuine curiosity in childhood and young adulthood about the boy who was supposed to become your right hand, your biggest support and confidant. When your curiosity had become too obvious to play off as you aged, Azumane had gladly provided you with stories of his friend and eased your fear of the unknown.

The biggest reason for your worry is more embarrassing than any of the actual causes of concern, ludicrously enough. Because with all the wonderful and heartwarming stories you’ve been provided by both your maidservant, the kitchen maids and other tutors in your life, your heart has spun another story of his own, one of rose colors and stargazing.

In your defense, Sugawara Koushi is a very handsome young gentleman who’s always kind to anyone he encounters and diligent in both studies and work. In his spare time, he helps the scribe, Takeda Ittetsu, tutor the Keep children in both numbers and letters. He engages in the conservation of documents and is an active part of both the maps and the libraries’ keeping to.

It’s a very favorable image of a person meant to become so close to you. Not to mention that his smile always makes your heart skip a beat. Azumane often scolds you for reading too many romance novels and not enough educational works to prepare you better and at a time like this, you think you should’ve listened to him more.

You’re not supposed to be in love with your advisor.

Not to mention, a royal advisor whom you’ve never even met.

 The seamstress urges you to stand still again, fitting the hem of your newly tailored dress shirt, sewn for this purpose. You’re sure you’ll wear it again for some other occasion, enamored by the pattern of silk on the elaborate sleeves. It’s a deeply saturated, royal red with orange embroidered in with immaculate attention to detail, the cuffs closed by obsidian-like cufflinks. You straighten your back at the seamstress’ request as your father’s royal advisor goes over the ceremony with you.

You’ve practiced the speech and rituals since learning this would one day be your first role to fulfill, excitement vibrating through your bones as you were going through old scriptures and scrolls telling of this deeply traditional-bound ceremony. He praises you as you repeat the words back at him and you preen, your back straightening even more in pride. He shakes his head with a chuckle, proud of what you’ve become even if none were prepared for the timeline to be pushed as such.

                                                         ///

 No one prepared Sugawara for just how many people would actually attend his ceremony. It’s probably not as many as he feels, but the eyes all on him makes him queasy and he silently thanks his mentor for restraining his breakfast just a little bit for him. It’s obviously not as many people as will attend your coronation, but it still makes his heartrate spike to see the many attendees turn their heads at his arrival in the court. He’s announced by the speaker and stands where he’s been told, clearing his throat to alleviate some of his nervousness while he awaits your entrance.

 All eyes turn to you as your arrival is announced before you then then do something unexpected that almost makes him laugh out loud. He manages to keep it to a cut-off chuckle but you bow. You bow to the court as if you’re not supposed to become the crown of this kingdom in a matter of days and there’s a few gasps, giggles and various reactions sprinkled throughout the audience and you smile sheepishly before pacing your way to stand next to the throne.

On top of your head is the same crown that Sugawara often saw adorned on your father and his heart aches. He knows it’s been fitted to your exact measurements but he can’t help but be amazed at how well it suits you.

The kingdom’s opinion of you is at a crucial tipping point at best right now but seeing you stand there, your head held high and back straight, he feels that everything will turn out alright. He relaxes his own shoulders as you start your speech meant for your father’s royal advisor, telling anecdotes of growing up watching him and your father in the courtyard and finishing by bestowing upon him the Black wings of the Crow, the highest honor the royal family can award anyone, as a way to cement you and your kingdom’s gratefulness to all of his years of service.

Sugawara’s heart soars with happiness to see him receive such honors from the crown themselves and straightens his back again, overly conscious of how he’s posing in your presence. He hopes it’ll get easier with time.

 Sugawara is being presented to the court of officials and his eyes search for Sawamura and relaxes. In the corner he also sees Azumane send him a discreet thumbs up and lets out a grounding breath. He stands before you and bows, his head bent down, trying not to stare at your feet too much but using it as a focus point. You’re wearing black leather boots with heel that resembles your father’s usual style very much. When he thinks back, he’s sure your father’s had a designed pattern on them but yours are curiously bare except for the straps and pins closing it around your ankle and shin.

You recite the ancient tongue that is regarded as the first lines from the first ever inauguration ceremony of this kind, cementing the bond between ruler and advisor. Sugawara’s heart is beating hundreds of beats per minute as he tries not to do something that’ll ruin this magical moment. That doesn’t stop his brain from providing him with fears he didn’t even know he possessed; imagine if he lost balance and fell (he’s on his right knee with an arm supporting him), what if he has to sneeze (he knows how to control them) and the oddest one, what if you look at him and decide you don’t see him as a good fit? He’s got no counterpoint for that one, and that’s the scariest part.

He feels your palm on the top of his head and hears the acute way your breath hitches before you speak loudly and clearly,

“Do you swear to keep the benefit of the kingdom always in your heart, in your mind and in your body? To stay true to me and me only, as we work to make our kingdom prosper?”

Our kingdom.

Our.

He tries to ignore how your hand is lightly shaking on the crown of his head as he swallows thickly. He knows the reply is as true from his heart as it comes out of his mouth,

“Yes, Your Majesty. I vow to always stand by your side and support you in making your kingdom flourish.”

There’s a moment of silence as you retract your hand from his head and shuffle before him, presumably getting his pin ready. He’s too scared to raise his head, anxious about fulfilling the ritual properly. He can feel the temperature on the top of his head where your hand’s been burning into his skull.

“Sugawara Koushi, you may now rise.” you instruct him and he does so slowly, standing directly before you for the first time and now officially yours. When your eyes lock with his, he swears he sees a sparkle of stars in yours. They shine in a rich and earthly way he can’t seem to find human. In your hands, a golden brooch is resting with an emerald stone enclosed that Sugawara knows is valued much higher than his meager life. No matter how the light touches it, it looks breathtaking. You step forward and he almost takes a step back from the sheer overwhelm of being so close to you. you smile gently at him, reassuring him as you start speaking again, in a volume meant for the court to hear as well.

“I bestow upon you the crown’s pin to establish the physical link between us, with our kingdom as witness. You have sworn yourself to me and to the Karasuno Kingdom and this pin will be the proof of your allegiance and duty.”

As you say your practiced lines, your hands reach for his collar and Sugawara hopes he’s able to keep his blush down when your knuckle brushes his throat. You lock the pin and take a step back, mouthing a silent “well done” and he nods at you with a grateful smile, bowing ever so slightly. Sugawara’s heart skips a beat at the bashful smile you send him before you turn your attention toward the court, cementing your words one final time.

There are more formalities to get through but even if you held a sword to Sugawara’s throat, he would never be able to recite anything else happening, too preoccupied by standing next to and so close to you while the rest of the ceremony commences. He knows Sawamura is supposed to do some kind of honors now, but he can’t focus on it, he only bows when he’s supposed to. There’s something inherently intimate about the way an advisor is sworn in and he’s still reeling from saying those lines directly to you and not just to himself in his looking glass. There’s something about swearing his life away to someone that makes his stomach swirl in pleasant squiggles, the finality of his teachings and educations coming to fruition. He’s glad it’s you.

                                                        ///

 The silence is thick in the late crown’s map room as your fingers gently sweep over the ashen wood desk littered with containers spilling ink, feathers, and unfinished maps. Neither of you are even sure what the purpose of the current map that is splayed out is, but you’re both aware of your father’s penchant for mapping. Sugawara’s unsure of whether it’s appropriate for him to say anything and the happiness he felt emanating off of you during the ceremony is nowhere to be detected in the current gloom that’s sucked you in.

“I always imagined I’d arrive at the throne due to his retirement. That he’d witness my coronation and ease the two of us into our duty.”

Sugawara swallows thickly at your words. You’ve done it several times now, addressing your title and work as ours – as if you saw Sugawara as your equal and not a delicately trained and placed pawn to use as you saw fit. He clears his throat and tries to speak when you continue, “something isn’t right about his passing. My father taught me everything there is to know about sword fighting. I can’t imagine he’d go down due to a simple group of bandits.”

You look up at Sugawara and the pleading in your eyes makes his hands clench behind his back. You’re looking for reassurance, for someone to believe in you. His heart aches at the thought of how many people might’ve dismissed your hypotheses the past week alone. He agrees with you. Everything in the official reports, Sawamura’s detailed accounts and the mere fact that they succeeded in assassinating the crown himself speaks to something more organized. Something far more sinister.

He nods and walks towards the table, towards you, “Your Majesty, I fear your assumption may not be entirely incorrect. An ambush of that level isn’t common in those areas and according to local reports gathered by my predecessor, not heard of neither before or after the attack on His Hig”- Sugawara clears his throat once more –“your father.”

Your eyes fly from the overflowing inks to Sugawara’s at his choice of words and Sugawara’s breath hitches silently at the grateful smile you return him with. He smiles back and mirrors your hand by putting one close to yours on the table, staying neutral as your hand flinches upon his nearing. He rests his hand on the map, feeling the texture of the paper on his skin, “what would you like to do, Your Majesty?”

Your eyes stay locked onto the table, your position frozen for a few moments. Sugawara notices how you’re nibbling at your bottom lip. It’s a cute quirk, he thinks and subconsciously bites on his own until he stops himself with a straightening of his back. You retract your arm from the table and the fabric of your puffy sleeve gently sways with your movements as your hand reaches your own chest. You look up at Sugawara, determined, “I demand a full investigation that I’ll be part of. I will not rest until I know what truly happened to my father.”

Sugawara nods and bows, “as you command, Your Majesty. However, I will advise this to be done in utmost secrecy. Throwing the kingdom into a state of fear is not what is needed publicly of you as of this moment,” he straightens his back and looks squarely at you, “if I may be so bold as to suggest this, I’d recommend that you pick out a group that you trust to do this quietly as you calm down the nation.”

A quiet snicker leaves you and Sugawara tilts his head in confusion at your reaction as you grace him with yet another warm smile, “I expect you to be bold enough to suggest me things, my dear advisor. That is, after all, what you’re here for.” You turn around to look at the map of the kingdom that your father proudly made when you were just 12 hanging on the wall. In the corner of the northern duchy you can still see the ink stain you accidentally made as you observed him making it back then – you’re sure he could’ve removed it or started over since he had just begun with said northern duchy at the time, but he chose to let it stay and it fills your chest with warmth. Behind you, Sugawara blushes at your obvious statement. “But that is most reasonable. However,” you turn back with what Sugawara can only describe as a dignified pout, embarrassed to admit this out loud but with your shoulders squared and head held high, “I’m not at all sure who to entrust such a task to. I know many in our keep but I am unfamiliar with who to trust in the political court.”

Sugawara nods and tries not to embarrass your admission further by not reacting outwardly. He was ultimately expecting this to happen. “If you so trust me, I shall gladly help you gather a small company but while I do gather intelligence about who we can truly trust,” Sugawara braces himself for the next part, “I must ask you to keep up appearances around the public investigation. We must not throw suspicion or we might lose important trails to find the true executioners. I know what I ask is dire and under normal circumstances I would never think to expect anyone to follow such an outrageous request but alas,” he looks at you and trails off, seeing your steeled expression. There is no doubt in his mind that this pains you, but he can feel your resolve for the greater good of your kingdom – the kingdom your father loved as well.

   The next few days pass by Sugawara in a blur. He trails around next to you and instructs you in political influence, watches you mourn in silence, tests your knowledge and as you’re eating lunch in the former crown’s map room that you’ve ordered not to be remodeled or repurposed, talks about the investigation you’ve brought on.

Sugawara knew that he’d become physically close with you once he’d be sworn in, but he hadn’t expected that he’d be sharing so many meals with the crown of his country. It was awkward at first. There was luckily plenty of practical subjects to go through, so the silences never lasted too long and smiles seems to come easily when Sugawara cracked a joke or two. Your knowledge of the southern duchies and of the bordering countries surpassed what he expected, but you were lacking in regard to in-country laws and especially the western duchies’ customs were you unfamiliar with. He's continually amazed by your ability to remain unfazed when it comes to the public investigation of your father’s passing. No crack in your mask reveals that you’re in doubt of the public acknowledgement. Sugawara knows differently though, as his heart aches in his chest. He knows of the fire burning steadily, consuming your sleep and appetite. He tries not to say too much, knows Azumane is next to you when he is not.

Preparations for your coronation also took up a great deal of your time but Sugawara never hears any complaining as he drills knowledge and political pawns into your beautiful head. The talk and flow of the Karasu Keep has become lively and light, excitement buzzing in the air as the coronation draws closer. All the dukes and their families have gathered and many travelers from across the kingdom will be arriving as well over the next coming days. The attitude towards the new crown is generally positive, which greatly relaxed Sugawara.

 “I’d keep an eye on the Hiashi duke. He and his coterie seem to celebrate a great deal differently than anyone else.”

It’s whispered to Sugawara while a mug of ale is being placed in front of him. It’s Shimizu, the matron who runs both the servant and guard kitchens. She’s soft-spoken and never indulges much of anything, but Sugawara knows her to gather intelligence from the people of the keep like nobody else. She was one of the first people he entrusted his secret task to and it seems to have paid off already within the first week. He doesn’t outwardly react to her sentence but simply takes a sip from the mug placed before him. You’ve given Sugawara the afternoon and evening off, much to his chagrin, as you’re being fitted in your coronation outfit before there’s a dinner with the dukes of the kingdom, so he’s set to investigating further.

 He walks down the hallways of the upper quarters as he plans to excavate information on the duchy of Hiashi, which is one of the northern duchies, near the border. He’s heard of squabbles with the area, of his mentor mentioning agriculture issues. The northern duchies as a whole supply most of the farming for the kingdom and the drought six years ago has yet to heal them completely, try as the former crown might’ve. It’s also only a stone’s throw away from the attack on the crown, which makes Sugawara’s brows furrow as he’s leaned over some documents. It wouldn’t be a stretch to make that connection. He’s pulled out of his thoughts with a knock upon the door and is surprised to see his mentor there.

He looks disheveled. There’s no other word that can describe what Sugawara sees before him, except a broken man.

He’s seen a lot of them lately.

Wordlessly, he takes a seat on the opposite side of the desk and lets out a gruff laugh, “he used to love staying in here, holed up with his maps.”

Sugawara opts to sit down as well, figuring he needs to say something. he sighs and sinks further down into the chair, bony fingers gripping the armrest. “It suits you,” he mutters and sends a look towards the pin next to Sugawara’s cravat that he feels too stuffy in but is unfortunately comes with the uniform. Sugawara’s hands instinctively travel to it, feeling grounded by its presence. The silence stretches out for some time, Sugawara unsure on how to breach it – if he even should.

“I should’ve gone with him.”

The confession hits like a brick to his face. The grieve of his mentor is one thing, but to know he feels guilty? It pricks at Sugawara’s heart like knives. He stayed because Sugawara felt ill, if anything, it’s Sugawara’s guilt to bear.

Before he can articulate any of that, an arm is raised dismissively, “it has nothing to do with you. Rationally, of course,”- he gives Sugawara a knowing look-“it wouldn’t have made a difference. It was just a routine visit, I wasn’t needed there. I was needed with you, here.”

“I’ve had fevers before.” Sugawara tries, sucking in his upper lip. His mentor croaks a laugh and shakes his head, “yes but none as bad.”

“You say that every time I’ve ever had a fever.”

He shakes his head and gets up from the chair, rolling his shoulders, “ah. Talking to you have lightened my mood. See, sometimes I need you like you used to need me.” He winks at him and Sugawara pouts, “that’s not fair.”

A solemn smile crosses his face as his eyes stay on the map in front of Sugawara, “I know. I just came here to remind you that it had nothing to do with you and wasn’t your fault. I can see the guilt you try to expertly hide when you stand next to the crown. It’s heavy on your shoulders, isn’t it?”

Bull’s eye.

Sugawara’s breath hitches as he tries to conceal a sob. His mentor puts his arms behind his back and looks at the walls, lined with maps and art made by the former crown, his former friend. “And so it is so. So many souls carry the burden of this death. Heavy are the crow’s wings, my son.”

  As Sugawara’s left alone in a room drowning in the touch of their former crown, he finds himself making a fist to control anything that might slip through his own walls.

His father-figure is still here. He’s not the one losing a family member - you are. He will have to pull it together.

 “What are you doing?”

His fist untightens as he gasps in what he hopes is a low enough volume when he hears your voice from the other side of the desk. He hadn’t even heard you come in.

“Uh,” he fumbles around a bit, pretending to look for a specific map. “Uhm, one second,” he tries as he searches his brain for a way to sniffle without making a sound.

He hears you giggle and freezes on the spot, your laugh putting out the fire in his nerves. “It’s okay, Sugawara, you can take it easy with me.”

He inhales slowly, “right. I apologize, your majesty.” And finally looks up at you and smiles. You walk around the desk to stand next to him, “what are you looking for?” you ask, your hand tracing the top document, one being a map of the agricultural areas of grain from the Hiashi duchy. He shakes his head to gather his thoughts again as he points, “I got a tip to look into the Hiashi. There was a drought six years ago that devastated most of their crops.”

You raise your eyebrows, “you think it’s got something to do with my father’s passing?”

Sugawara’s unsure whether or not he should confirm that suspicion to you. After all, you’ve got a dinner with said duke in just a few moments. Out of the corner of his eyes, Sugawara can see you’re well-dressed and ready for the small banquiet. “Your majesty, maybe we shall discuss this after the dinner has been completed.”

You turn your head to him in confusion, staring daggers into his skull. He can feel them and he’s almost afraid to face you, fearing he might’ve overstepped. “Sugawara,” you say to catch his attention and he looks up from the parchments in front of him in equal parts confusion and fear, “yes your majesty?”

You put a hand on his shoulders, “the dinner has ended. I came here to find you before retiring for the night. You weren’t in your study.”

Huh?

Sugawara’s eyes must’ve popped out of the sockets with the way you retreat, a hand to your mouth. “Good Gracious, have you not gotten any of the rest I ordered you to?”

He blinks owlishly at you, his mouth in a tight line, “pardon, your majesty?”

You groan dramatically and to Sugawara’s surprise, flicker your pointer finger at his forehead, “I gave you the night off so that you could rest! You’ve been looking more and more exhausted and I understand that acclimating to your new job title requires adequate rest and care!”

Huh?

He sits down with his palms pressing his forehead, where you hit him – without holding back. You look at him with your eyes furrowed, “it’s part of your job to follow the crown’s orders.”

Sugawara laughs then. He laughs loudly and unabashed as his hands travel from his forehead to his cravat to loosen it up. He laughs with his mouth open wide and eyes closed. You wonder if he’s lost it before you grab the stool in the corner to sit next to him.

“I apologize deeply, your majesty. Since you’re technically still Crown-in-Waiting, I assumed the order wouldn’t apply until after the ceremony.”

You huff out a disgruntled laugh at his joke before you sigh out, “I shall be more clear next time. Well then, show me what you spent the last few hours on, if you won’t mind following an order from a simple Crown-in-Waiting.”

The mirth in your eyes makes Sugawara laugh again and lean over the table with you, pointing at the different farms and explain how the drought hit and the other specifics. He’s so caught up in his lecture that he hardly registers the way you yawn halfway in or the way you slowly but steadily sway towards him.

The weight of your head collides with his shoulder and Sugawara tenses up like a pulled spring. Slowly he turns his head to find you soundly asleep, the quill you’ve been writing notes within your hand now displaced and rolling over the map, spreading ink in its wake. He clears his throat after a moment too long before he dares speak but before any words can leave his mouth, he sighs and tries to relax his posture to make it more comfortable for you. You’re right, acclimating to a new job title requires care and proper rest. He takes a moment to be selfish like he never is and slowly, silently breathes in your scent, moving his head slightly to admire the way your mouth moves in tandem with your slow breathing. He feels like he has to physically restrain himself from caressing your soft cheek and it proves harder than he thought until he gathers his courage to address you and try to gentle stir you awake, “your majesty?”

A mixture of childish whines and grumbles leave you as you cuddle closer to him, your arm encircling his and he swears he feels his soul leave his body at your behavior. He steels his resolve for a moment with a few breaths before he decides. “Can’t be helped then,” he sighs and gently pats the top of your head, deciding that if his own royal highness, the soon to be crown sees his shoulder as an adequate resting place, he is not one to make disputes. You deserve as much rest as anyone else and if he can provide even an ounce of comfort to his beloved crown, he’ll sacrifice whatever it’ll take.

 Here are the bonus additions my cat has made on this document as I’ve been writing it (he’s also deleted three paragraphs that I luckily regained):

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go here to be added to my taglist!

[randomoranges]

Adventing

part 25

Day 19

Word: Godfather

Object: A white mug with black text that reads “Only thebest uncles get promoted to godfather”

Étienne helped Constance with her shoes, while Edward helpeda very pregnant Suzette up the last two stairs into their home – Jacques followedbehind, carrying what seemed like every bag imaginable a parent couldpotentially own, “Are you sure we’re not imposing?” Suzette asked as she waddledon, sitting down on the chair Étienne provided to remove her own shoes, “Areyou kidding? We haven’t seen you in what feels like ages, we’re more than gladto have you over for the afternoon,” Jacques helped his wife to the livingroom, while Étienne helped Constance settle down on her play-mat and Edwardwent to start the tea, “How was brunch and shopping with El?” Étienne asked,joining Edward in the kitchen and politely shooing him out of it, “It was great– she was such a good help! Too bad you couldn’t join us,” The original planhad been for all six of them to have brunch together, but last minuteobligations had them occupied and so they had agreed to meet up at theapartment for some tea and catching up.

“There’ll be other times;” Étienne said as he brought outthe tray with the teacups and cookies Edward had made that morning, “So how’sthe last trimester going? Still don’t want to find out the gender of the baby?”Edward asked as he politely took the kettle out of Étienne’s hands after he nearlydoused his right hand with scalding tea, “We made it this far without knowing,what’s a couple of more months, right?” Jacques joked as he placed an armaround his wife’s shoulders, all the while keeping an eye on Constance who wasfar too busy playing with her blocks to care about what the adults were doing,“So far it’s been smooth sailing with this one, way easier than when I waspregnant with Constance, here’s hoping the rest goes as well,” They fell silentfor a moment, each busy with their tea and cookies, until Suzette put her cupdown and made a hand motion to her husband, “Chéri, the bag for Édouard andÉtienne! I was almost about to forget!” It seemed to be enough of a cue forJacques, who also put his cup down and returned to the entrance where he hadleft his multitude of bags, before he came back with two gift bags in matchingcolours.

“These are for you,” Suzette beamed excitedly; both Edwardand Étienne exchanged curious looks, since there was no apparent reason forthem to be receiving presents, but then pulled out the tissue paper whenSuzette told them to open them up; Étienne was the first to finish unwrappinghis present and at first he didn’t think much of the white coffee mug he foundin the bag – he thought maybe it would have Constance’s handprints on it, orsomething equally adorable, but as he turned it around to see what was printedon it, he heard Edward gasp beside him; Étienne peered over his boyfriend’sshoulder and saw what had made his boyfriend react – instead of a mug, Edwardhad received a tea cup – probably to go with his collection – and Edward washolding it from the other side, so Étienne could read the text that was on it, Only the Best Uncles get Promoted toGodfather – Étienne blinked and checked on his own mug, only to find thesame text on his.

He felt his entire body swell with pride and emotion.

“For real?!” He asked to make sure that this wasn’t some bigmisunderstanding and that he still knew how to read properly.

“Of course; we would love for the two of you to be thegodparents to this little one, if you want, that is,” Jacques said, placing ahand on top of Suzette’s, which was resting on her stomach.

Étienne and Edward turned to each other, silentlycommunicating, before Edward nodded and Étienne grinned, “Of course,” Edwardstarted, “We’d be honoured.”

Étienne rose from his seat and walked over to his brotherand sister-in-law; he hugged them both tightly, mindful of the baby bump,before he got on his knees to be at level with Suzette’s midriff, “Hey you inthere, it’s me, your Mononcle Étienne, and let me tell you, you’re gonna havethe best set of godfathers this world has ever seen!”

Étienne watched, fond,as Edward and Julien sat together, huddled over some 3D puzzle they werecurrently making and Étienne still remembered how Edward had gotten theirgodson his very first 3D puzzle, so many years ago, and how it had become oneof Julien’s favourite things to do; it was nice to see that despite everything,the two of them had found their way back to each other and they could stillhave this.

——

PREVIOUS: XXIV

CURRENT: XXV

NEXT: XXVI

[naffeclipse]

i had an idea for SJ au, sorry if its bothersome

spy!yn being eclipse's loyal dog, his most reliable spy, eyes and ears. eclipse calls them "little bird" (from "a little bird has told me")

yn pretendnig to be random folk. sun and moon being able to recognize spy!yn by their eyes so through much trial and error (obscuring eyes only helped for a while until recently detectives picked up on it and began looking for anybody obscuring their eyes first and foremost) so the most reliable strat around detectives is turn back on them and lstening real hard (they haven't figured it out yet)

yn in disguise on a lookout for detectives investigating a recent crime scene at a bar, yn pretends to be a drunk and half asleep young man at the bar stand.

moon sits right beside them, some mental games of "if he knew he would/wouldn't have done that" moon asks bartender but they dont know (and they are not aware of yn's presence and affiliation to eclipse's gang, despite said bartender being threatebed beforehand) when moon asks them they just grunt incoherently

cyanide tooth, yn is very calm about it. "that means i'll do my best to not get myslef caught" in some opportunistic turn of events, yn gets caught but before they can bite on tooth, sun seizes their jaw, "oh, none of that, ive learned all of the tricks of the folk like you" (he knows these kind of tricks from past attempts of catching eclipse's spies)

sun and moon bribing yn for info and yn not giving in cause detectives cant scare the spy with anything because at the end of the day eclipse going to find them and eliminate for letting themselves getting caught. especially in prison.

yn figuring that if they pretend to help sun and moon then they could find some important info to trade their life to eclise later

some time when detectives and spy work together, begrudgingly. yn doenst run away because they are gonna be found anyway. yn is always in disguise because if words gets out that they've become a cop dog then its over for them by the next two hours. yn: considering he doesnt just send a sniper this time.

a moment of genuine empathy and a seed for sympathy between the three.

5 men came to take care of yn. eclipse comes and kills his own goons. Eclipse: you cost me 5 men this time. 8 in total. how are you going to make up for me this time, little bird?

thanks for your attention

*rubs my grubby little hands together* Yesss! I love the darker tone of this one and the tension between Y/N and the detectives! There's something more desperate to Y/N in this one, something primal in how they survive. It's very reminiscent of their original Afton days but this time, it's Eclipse they have to please and keep up the dirty deeds for!

Of course, Y/N is great at what they do, listening and watching and stealing every little tidbit of information for their boss. The cyanide tooth is a nice, deadly touch—really hones in how little failure Eclipse will accept. (Sun stopping them from using is just *mwah* I love it)

I'm a sucker for enemies forced to work together that builds up a small, respectable bond, finally seeing your opponent's face instead of just another obstacle to take out! I'm certain Y/N isn't used to such dignity nor the barest kindest the detectives show them while during their brief time together!

But ah, Eclipse comes back to collect what's his, and he'll see that Y/N pays for this mistake.

[berryunho]

THE ANSWER: XVI

Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers ‘sect.’ pairing: ateez x fem reader genre: cult au, thriller, angst check warnings on AO3

← previous || next → || masterlist chapter word count: 6,055

As it turns out, you were able to fall asleep again. 

At least, that’s your assumption when you find yourself waking up the next morning. Though you hadn’t previously seen it, there’s a window on the far wall of the infirmary letting in a stream of fresh morning sun. 

On instinct, you reach your arms out to stretch. Horrible idea. As soon as your left arm extends one millimeter outward, a shooting pain stings through your chest. You feel a tug on what you imagine is your bandaged wound, nearly making you whisper a prayer that it hadn’t pulled open. Though you immediately dropped your arm, the pain continues to throb it’s way throughout your chest, readily making itself known. 

What a great way to start the morning. 

You’re not as disorientated as you remember being when you woke up last night, but it still takes a few moments for everything to come back to you. It’s easy to recall the basics of your situation. Farm. Cult. Hongjoong. The usual. Some of the… finer details you had learned only last night take just a few seconds of pondering, but they quickly are recalled as well. 

Though you can’t actually remember kissing Hongjoong… you can remember being told that it happened. Your face squeezes in embarrassment at the thought. What the fuck. Why had you done th- no, better question: why had Hongjoong done that. He was the one that was sober, not you. It isn’t that hard to piece together, you suppose. Hongjoong is a power-hungry psychopath, he thrives off of manipulating people; you are no exception. Ugh, yuck.

That all being said, you’re just a smidgen upset that you can’t actually recall the memory. Not that you want to know what it was like, of course, it would just make things a lot simpler if you remembered the entirety of the night (including the unfortunate parts). It would make things a lot easier to analyze. But, maybe it’s a blessing that you can’t remember it, like, come on, do you really want to remember what kissing Hongjoong was like…? 

No. Gross. 

You shake your head to try and rid yourself of the thought. There were much more pressing discoveries made last night than the fact that Hongjoong kissed you. First of all, Hongjoong apparently stabs (and kills) people on a regular basis! Which makes him kissing you so much wo- stop. Do not think about it.

Anyhow, what the fuck? While you had pondered a few questions why you were falling asleep, that seems like it was so long ago already. How has no one put together the disappearances with the farm? If people are initiated or whatever on a somewhat regular basis… and sometimes they die… shouldn’t the police be somewhat on top of this? Honestly, the disappearances alone should be enough to make them suspicious, but the murders? Truly the icing on the cake.

Anxiety pools in your stomach. This is serious. Deadly fucking serious. This is real life. You are trapped on a farm in the middle of goddamn nowhere with a manipulative psychopath and his devoted followers. And your college best friend. Can’t forget about the reason that you came here in the first place.

You sigh. Do you regret coming for Mingi? As much as you hate the situation, and as much pain as you are in after surviving a genuine murder attempt… no. Especially not now that you know what he’s been through. And the fact that he only came here to get away from you, apparently. So, in a round-about way, its your own fault that you ended up in this situation.

God, your chest hurts. And not in a metaphorical way, either. It aches with the strain you put on it while stretching. Are you still getting pain killers? It sure doesn’t feel like it…

You turn your head to check the status of the bags attached to your IV. The bag labeled “SALINE” still looks quite full… but the other is suspiciously empty.

You wonder whether or not the person outside of the room is still Nayeon. Probably not. If she has the night shift, someone else probably takes care of the day shift. Hmmm…

For a moment, you contemplate calling for someone, but the need evaporates as the door slides open and Mingi pokes his head in. 

There’s a pang in your chest the moment that you realize its him, but you can’t tell whether it’s genuine pain or something else. Before you can think on it too long, Mingi slides the door open the rest of the way and is quick to come to your side.

“How long have you been awake?” He asks, “I’m sorry, I should’ve been here when you woke up.”

You shake your head, clearing your throat before trying to speak. “No, no, it’s completely fine. I’ve only been awake for…” you search your mind for a sense of the time. It doesn’t come very easily… interesting. “Maybe five minutes?”

A sad smile crosses Mingi’s face. “Still.”

Not quite sure how to respond to that, you allow a silence to fall between the two of you. You move to sit up a bit higher to adjust your position, failing to remember your injured left half. As soon as you put weight on your right arm, the pain in your chest intensifies, and a gasp escapes from you as you shift your weight on reflex.

“Hey!” Mingi’s arms immediately shoot out to stabilize your body, his right hand catching your left arm and relieving the pressure off of your side. His left hand catches you at the waist, stopping you from moving any further. “You have to be more careful!”

Under any other circumstances, you would ask if he thinks that he’s your mom. Under these, however, you sigh. “Thank you for catching me.” You look at his hand holding onto your forearm and are nearly shocked at the strength supporting it. He’s holding essentially a fourth of your bodyweight in one hand, something he most certainly would not have been able to do when you two were still in school. “Can you help me sit up more?”

Mingi squints at you. “If you promise to not try and move after I do.” He doesn’t wait for your reply before using his hand at your waist to scootch you further back into a sitting position. 

“Thanks,” you say, waiting for him to move now that you’ve been stabilized. But… he doesn’t.

“Do you feel okay?” He asks, looking intently over your face.

Seriously, what is with people asking you that question? Clearly, you are not okay. Have you been okay for even one second since you stepped foot on this farm? No!

But you know that Mingi genuinely means it. “Well, my chest hurts.” You glance up at the empty bag of acetaminophen.

Mingi’s eyes follow your gaze, and that’s when he releases his grasp on you. He springs backward, pointing at the empty bag. “I will be back in two seconds, promise.”

Mingi disappears out the door at speeds faster than you can ever recall seeing him move in the past. Huh. True to his word, he returns in mere moments, dragging a person that you’re unfamiliar with with him.

“Come on, Seungmin, really,” Mingi gestures to your IV, “Why doesn’t she have any pain management? Do you not remember how much pain you were in when you were Chosen?” He drops his grip on, apparently, Seungmin as they approach your side.

Seungmin gives Mingi some minor side-eye. “Yes, I remember, Mingi.” He moves to go to the same cabinet that Nayeon had searched through last night. “I also took care of you after you were Chosen, if you might remember.”

Mingi rolls his eyes from your side. “Exactly, which included giving me painkillers when I needed them. Can you not do the same for (Y/n)?” 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Seungmin turns from the cabinet to glare back at Mingi. You can’t tell if they’re actually arguing or if this is some elaborate mean friendship that they have, and frankly you don’t really care. You just know that, the more its talked about, the more your chest aches. 

Seungmin comes back to your side, gripping another bag of (presumably) acetaminophen. “I’m sorry the drip is empty, (Y/n), Nayeon and I switched shifts only a few minutes ago, and she was sleeping when I got here.” He explains, unhooking your line from the previous bag and attaching the new one. “All better.” He glares at Mingi, “Need anything else?” He asks Mingi more than he asks you.

Mingi looks curiously over to you, and you shake your head. “Then I’ll be right outside if you need me.” Seungmin leaves the room, not closing the door behind him.

“That kid drives me crazy,” Mingi crosses his arms, “Is he even old enough to have learned how to take care of sick people? I really don’t think so.”

He did look quite young, in Mingi’s defence. “Do you actually not like him?”

“I didn’t feel one way or another until he left you without treatment, even if only for a few minutes.”

… “It’s fine, Mingi.”

He looks over at you, arms still crossed. “No, it’s not. You’re in pain. And today is important.”

Important? “Why is that?”

“Hongjoong and the others are going to come by and decide where you should work! That is a very important decision! And I’d rather that you were not in pain while it happened.”

And that is very important… why?

But you don’t ask that. Instead, “The others…?”

“Do you remember those people we met the first day you were here? When we went on a tour?” Your expression answers his question. “Uh, Jongho, Yeosang, Wooyoung, and San?”

Ah, there you go. How could you forget? “And Hongjoong and Seonghwa will be there, too. And me. And I guess anyone else that wants to come.”

“They’re coming here?” You ask, wondering if all of these people will be able to comfortably fit in the room without crowding each other.

Mingi nods, lifting his wrist to check his watch. “In only a couple minutes, actually.”

What? How did they even know that you would be awake? Wonderful. This is something that you probably would have liked to prepare for more, but you guess that going into it completely blind could have its benefits as well. Somehow. Maybe.

For the first time, you’re suddenly aware of what you’re wearing. And it’s definitely not that freaky ass outfit Seonghwa made you put on. Instead, it’s the pajamas that you packed with you. The very same pajamas that Seonghwa had teased you about. Lovely. Who dressed you? Who went into your room? 

You don’t know what you want the answer to those questions to be. On one hand, do you trust anyone here to see you in your underwear? On the other hand, do you want to think that it was Mingi that saw you in your underwear? Not quite. Maybe it was Nayeon. She was nice enough. 

Anyways, that is information to be concerned about another time. For now, you need to focus on what is about to happen. You do suppose that the job you’re assigned will have quite an effect on the things that you are allowed to do… so it is an important decision. Will you get any say in it, you wonder?

The silence in your room is soon broken by the sound of a group moving toward it. That was quick.

Seungmin hadn’t shut the door behind him, so the group is able to simply stride right in. 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa take up the lead, talking amongst themselves. Seonghwa sure seems to be in better spirits this morning (not that you care), and Hongjoong seems to be over any outburst that Seonghwa had had.

Following behind them is the group that Mingi had prepared you for. Wooyoung, who you have interacted with quite a lot by this point; San, who you’re still slightly bitter with; and Yeosang and Jongho, both of whom you really have no opinion of.

And there is one surprise guest, Yunho. “What are you doing here?” Mingi asks Yunho when he sees him, a confused look on his face.

Yunho frowns. “I wanted to see that (Y/n) was really awake so that I could stop worrying about you.” He peeks over at you. “Congratulations on being Chosen, by the way!”

You’re left to ponder that sentence while you wait for everyone to find a spot to stand in the room. He wanted to make sure… that you were awake… so that he could stop worrying about… Mingi…? Does that make sense?

Hongjoong claps his hands together, bringing your attention (as well as everyone else’s) to him in a second. “Good morning, (Y/n).” He smiles, “Has Mingi told you what we are going to talk about today?” Hongjoong looks between you and Mingi, who is still standing at your side.

“Uh,” you start, “my job.”

Hongjoong nods his head. “Exactly! It’s always fun to do job assignments, right, Seonghwa?” His gaze shifts to the man at his left. Seonghwa looks about as thrilled to see you as he ever has.

“Very fun.” He deadpans.

Hongjoong gestures to the others in the room, “Why don’t you all introduce yourselves and your positions for (Y/n)?”

“We’ve all met her already.” Jongho says, not bothering to look at you from his spot to your left. His arms are crossed and you’re once again struck by the size of his biceps.

Hongjoong gives a less than genuine smile. “I am well aware, Jongho, but let's recap for her, shall we?”

Jongho lets out a sigh. Clearly, someone besides Seonghwa is also not pleased to be here. “I’m Jongho. I’m in charge of the farms.”

San is standing to Jongho’s left, and he goes next. “Good to see you again, (Y/n).” He smiles, “I’m San and I’m in an administrative role.”

Next to San is Hongjoong, and next to Hongjoong is Seonghwa, so the introductions skip to Yeosang.

“Yeah, good to see you. I’m Yeosang and… I guess you would call me a mechanic.”

Wooyoung is last. “You know me, I’m in charge of the kitchens.”

You offer an awkward smile to each man as they move down the line. What an odd bunch of people to be running a cult, no? You wonder how many of them genuinely believe what Hongjoong is telling them, but you quickly stop thinking about it. Probably each and every one of them. Otherwise, wouldn’t they just leave? It seems to you like they would each have the means to escape if they wanted to… and yet they don’t. So they must be devoted.

Or also Hongjoong’s level of insane, which is much less comforting.

“Thank you,” Hongjoong says, glancing at Jongho, “Was that so hard?”

Jongho opens his mouth to reply, but must think better of it. A tiny smirk graces Hongjoong’s face for a moment before it quickly evaporates, leaving only his usual smile. “Well, who needs a worker?”

“I don’t.” Jongho says almost as soon as Hongjoong asks the question. 

Sheesh. What did you ever do to him?

“Yeah, uh, I don’t really either.” Yeosang gives you a sheepish smile. 

San looks at Wooyoung. “Well, I could take her.” He pauses, looking at Hongjoong. “If you think that’s a good idea.”

Hongjoong shakes his head. “No, probably not for now. Maybe in a couple of months.” Hongjoong winks at you. “Wooyoung,” he turns, “do you need anyone? Or, better question, do you have room for another?”

Wooyoung smiles at Hongjoong, “I don’t see why not!”

Hongjoong looks to you for your approval, “Is that alright with you?”

If you’re being honest, being in the kitchens is probably the place that you would enjoy the most. You are a barista, afterall.

Hold on.

You’re a barista. 

Your job. Your boss. 

You must’ve been reported missing by now. They have to be looking for you. If you really had been out for five days… There's no way your disappearance has escaped anyone’s perception. The police have to be looking for you. Haseul and Jungeun know where you went, at least somewhat. 

But that does raise the question… where are the police? There can’t be that many commune style farms in this general area, right? Surely if Haseul or Jungeun told the police that you went looking for Mingi, whom they (or at least Juneun) knew was living on a commune, there wouldn’t be that many possibilities for where you could be. 

Well fuck. If they’re not here by now, can you really keep believing that they will come? The logical part of you would say no; but now is definitely not the time for logic. This entire situation is against any sort of logic. It isn’t logical to be trapped on a farm with a cult; and yet here you are. Crazier things can happen than it taking a few days for cops to spring into action.

Of course, you have already run circles around this idea. It’s quite possible that they will never come, because it’s quite possible that someone is misleading your friends and family into thinking that you’re okay. You can nearly feel your eye twitch at the memory of giving San your phone so easily.

Mingi pokes your arm, startling out of your thoughts. “(Y/n)?”

“Oh,” you shake your head a bit to clear your previous train of thought. “I guess.”

“Great,” Jongho says, looking at Hongjoong, “Can I leave?” Hongjoong waves his hand, ushering Jongho to go. He quickly takes heed of Hongjoong’s action and leaves about as fast as possible. Seriously, what’s his problem?

As if Jongho had never been there at all, Hongjoong doesn’t skip a beat. “Typically the Chosen only stay in the clinic for a few days after they wake up,” he glances at Mingi, “but something tells me you’ll take a little longer to get on your feet.”

Mingi looks between you and Hongjoong. “Why are you looking at me?”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes at Mingi’s question, and seemingly really sees you for the first time since he entered the room. His eyes land on your torso, smirking as he realizes what you’re wearing. “Nice to see you in those cute pajamas again, princess.”

You frown at him, neglecting to give him the response that you know he’s looking for. Instead, you look over to see Mingi’s reaction to your nickname. His mouth is slightly agape, like he’s trying to think of something to say, but can’t quite grasp a response. 

Not wanting Mingi to say something that he might regret, you jump in. “I’m surprised you remember them.”

Seonghwa raises his eyebrows. “How could I forget that wonderful night we had?”

That gives you pause. Why did he have to say it like that? Your face scrunches in disgust as a smile spreads across Seonghwa’s face. You hazard a glance toward Mingi again and are not surprised to see that he looks even more flustered, his eyes wide as he stares at Seonghwa. Yunho wears a very similar expression, except he’s looking at you rather than Seonghwa. 

Yeosang clears his throat from the other side of the room, but it sounds more like a choked laugh. “Sorry, sorry,” he starts, bringing a hand up to pat his chest a bit, “frog in my throat. Excuse me.” Yeosang continues hitting his chest and poorly attempting to cover his laughter with coughs as he leaves the room. 

Wooyoung doesn’t seem to be as privy to the joke. “Uh, yeah. I should probably get to preparing lunch.” He looks expectantly around the room, as if waiting for someone to tell him to not leave. “Well, I’m looking forward to working with you, (Y/n)!”

Wooyoung grabs Yunho’s arm as he walks past him, pulling the larger man out with him. Yunho waves to you as he disappears around the corner with Wooyoung.

San, who has been very quiet during this entire encounter, suddenly seems to be very aware of the situation. “I’ll get going then, too.” He smiles at you once more. “Like I said, good to see you again, (Y/n).” 

San leaves, leaving only Mingi, Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and yourself. Seonghwa is still smirking at you, Mingi still looks incredibly flustered, and Hongjoong is… well, Hongjoong. Smiling his same, creepy little smile. He clears his throat a tiny bit, looking between Seonghwa and Mingi. “Would you two mind giving (Y/n) and I a few minutes alone?”

The smirk quickly falls off of Seonghwa’s face as he pries his eyes off of you in order to look at Hongjoong. The question seems to shock Mingi out of his stupor, however, as his expression goes neutral and he looks over at you. 

You want to shake your head. You don’t want to be left alone with Hongjoong, not for one single second. The mere thought makes anxiety start to pump through your veins. But, before you can communicate any of this to Mingi, he’s letting you know that he’ll just be outside if you need him. 

Seonghwa follows Mingi out as he goes, looking rather conflicted as he does. You want to say something, anything, that will keep one of them from leaving the room. But you can’t get anything out, and Seonghwa slides the door shut behind him, leaving you and Hongjoong completely alone. You continue staring at the closed door, not wanting to acknowledge the new situation that you’ve found yourself in.

Hongjoong moves from his spot at the end of your bed, coming into your field of vision and completely blocking the door so that you’re forced to look at him. His expression hasn’t changed from his usual, cool smile. He takes a couple steps closer to you, resting his hands on the rail support of the bed. “Please, (Y/n),” he begins, bending so that his face is level with your own. “Tell me how you’re really feeling.”

You blink. About a thousand possible responses run through your head. If he wants honesty… “Pretty shitty.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows squeeze in confusion. “And why is that?”

Once again, you blink at him. What does he want you to say? “Where should I start?” You resist the urge to spit on him, despite him being close enough for you to reach. “For starters, I’m being held hostage by a cult led by some psychopath,” Hongjoong bites his lip to restrain a smile, “that tried to kill me.”

Hongjoong clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “I wasn’t trying to kill you; if I had, you would be dead.” He establishes eye contact with you. “Why would I want to kill you?”

Again, another question that seems very obvious to you. It’s clear that he’s just playing with you, wanting you to say the things that he so desperately needs to hear, apparently. What a stupid game, one that you do not want to play. “Listen, Hongjoong, I don’t know how insane you really are; as in, I don’t know how much of this bullshit you’ve actually convinced yourself is true, but you must know that stabbing someone typically means that you want them dead.”

Hongjoong rolls his eyes. “Come on, (Y/n), aren’t you smarter than that?” He tilts his head to the side, giving you a curious look. “You have to realize that I can’t play favorites, even if I have them.”

What the fuck kind of thing to say is that?

“I can’t treat you any differently than anyone else, that’s not how this all works. You simply have to trust me, (Y/n), you would be dead if I had wanted you to be.” He reestablishes his smile. “You get to know where to aim.” He chuckles. “Anyhow,” he returns himself to his full height, taking his hands off of your bed. “Do you remember?”

You have a feeling you know what he’s referring to, but you’re not going to be the one to say it. “Remember what?”

If you had had the chance to be relieved by the distance he put between you two, Hongjoong quickly took it away. He swoops back in until he’s only inches away from your face, and you’re left having to lean as far back into the wall as possible (which is not very far). He brings his hand up, placing it under your chin and forcing you to look up at him. “Need a refresher?”

You jerk your chin out of his grasp, but he quickly reestablishes his hold. “No, I do not.”

“So you do remember?”

Well, not quite. “I was informed that you kissed me, but I don’t remember it happening.”

Hongjoong’s smile grows. “You were informed wrong, dear.” He pokes your arm with his free hand. “You kissed me.” 

You squint at him, attempting to make the most disgusted face that you can. “I did not. You drugged me.”

He contemplates this statement for a second. “Technically it was Wooyoung that drugged you.” You roll your eyes at that one. “And I can confidently say that you initiated that exchange.”

The urge to start a ‘did not’ ‘did too’ argument is strong, but you ignore it. “Either way, Hongjoong, I was drugged. Meaning I was not in my right mind.”

“What do they say about drunk actions? That they’re sober thoughts?” He casts a quick glimpse to your lips, smiling all the while before returning his eyes to yours. “You’re not leaving anytime soon, (Y/n), might as well enjoy yourself.”

As if he had never been close to you at all, he releases you and quickly takes a few strides back. “There’s nothing wrong with finding me attractive. Everyone does. When you’re able to admit it to yourself, let me know.” 

Hongjoong leaves you with one final wink before sliding the door open and making a quick exit.

What the fuck was that? You know that he was just playing with you, but seriously, what? You? Kissing him? Preposterous. You finding him attractive? Even funnier. 

… Anyways.

Before you can think on that whole exchange for too long, another person is poking their head into your room. Expecting it to be Mingi, you let yourself relax, squeezing your eyes shut with a groan. 

“Don’t be like that, princess.”

Your eyes snap open and you’re immediately at attention once more. Seonghwa shuts the door behind him as he makes his way into the room once again. He stops shy of where Hongjoong had stood, and you’re grateful for the distance he keeps. That man has manhandled you enough for your entire lifetime. “What do you want?”

A small smile graces Seonghwa’s features, but it’s anything but nice. “What do I want?” He crosses his arms behind his back, pretending to ponder your question. “I want you,” he leaves a bit of a dramatically long pause as if he could trick you into thinking that’s what he was going to say, “to stay away from Hongjoong.”

You don’t hesitate to respond. “Gladly. Give me my car keys.”

Seonghwa sucks in a breath. “You are funny, princess, but you know that’s not what I meant.” He pauses again, making you wonder what you’re supposed to say before he starts speaking again. “See, when this situation has happened in the past, and, trust me, it has, I’ve normally just disposed of the issue my own way.” Seonghwa smiles to himself. “And Hongjoong always moves on fairly quickly. But I have the strange feeling that this would be different. So I’m simply warning you now.”

As little as you want to do with Hongjoong, this possessiveness is kind of pretentiously annoying. Who is Seonghwa to tell you what to do? ‘Stay away from him?’ Is this a K-drama? “And what if I don’t?” You ask, simply to see his reaction.

“If you don’t,” Seonghwa takes a step closer to your bed, “I will take care of it. Hongjoong would forgive me eventually. Everyone makes mistakes.”

Oh, he’s serious. 

“So, princess,” he smiles at you with as much malice as you think he can muster, “do you understand?”

Not wanting to speak out of the mild fear that your voice might crack, you nod in response to his question.

“What a good girl.” Seonghwa turns to begin making his way to the door before pausing, “It’s in your best interests to not share this conversation with anyone else, but to remember it clearly.” With that, he leaves.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

The next couple of days go by without a fuss. 

Your chest is starting to feel better, and Seungmin and Nayeon agree that you’re alright to leave the infirmary whenever you’re ready. They’ve had you up and walking around, as well as weaning you off of your Tylenol. 

As much as you don’t want to even pretend to cooperate with the situation, you are starting to get quite bored with staying in bed all day. The thought of escape is, of course, also quite compelling. You probably would have very little chance of escaping from this clinic room, so you will have to leave eventually. 

Really the only thing that’s been keeping you from saying you’re ready to go for the past couple days is, well, Mingi. He watches you like you’re made of glass and hardly ever lets you leave his sight. He barely leaves you for his meals (and to collect yours), and often makes himself comfortable on the floor of the infirmary. His working obligations seem to have fallen by the wayside, with him mumbling something about Yunho on the occasions when you have asked if he should be working. 

Why he’s acting like you’re going to die any second is beyond you. Unless he knows something you don’t, which you suppose wouldn’t be that implausible, his behavior is almost entirely inexplicable. Sure, you guys were best friends. Sure, there might have (emphasis on the might) been something there. But that was all months ago, and this is the same man that supposedly joined a cult for the express purpose of leaving you behind. 

Honestly, his behavior since your arrival has been, well, erratic and nearly inexplicable. When you arrived, he hugged you and it seemed that he was happy you were there. You two had time together at the bonfire, time that really felt good. Mingi seemed to be himself. But the entire second day had been… off. When you had thought that you would be leaving, he had a complete and total meltdown. 

It brings a lump in your throat just thinking about the way that he was clinging onto your waist, begging you to stay.

Was that really the behavior of your Mingi? With the trauma that he’s been through, you suppose that the extreme reliance on some semblance of his past life makes sense; but you’ve yet to have a mental break like it seems he has. What happened that made Mingi change? 

God, this makes your head hurt. There’s too many questions that will probably never be answered. You can’t very well ask Mingi to tell you about something that he’s probably repressed. You couldn’t bring yourself to make him relive anything that could hurt him, but the curiosity is painful. Even asking Mingi basic questions could bring the risk of upsetting him majorly, which is not something that you will risk putting him through. 

This all is way too fucking complicated. When did everything go so wrong? Was it when Mingi left? When you graduated and couldn’t get a job? When that man had told you his name was Mingi? When you decided to search for Mingi? When you found him? When you decided to go? What’s the furthest back decision that could be to blame for all of this mess? Why had he even left in the first place? None of it makes sense.

Thankfully, a knock at the door of the infirmary stops you from thinking about it any further. Before you respond, the guest invites themselves in and you’re not surprised to see Mingi’s smiling face poke through the door. “Good morning!” He balances a tray in his hand as he shuts the door. “I brought breakfast!”

You smile, happy that he’s in good spirits as it is right now. That’s all you can really hope for; that Mingi stays happy and safe. If one can really be safe in this situation remains to be seen, but you figure that Mingi will be alright barring any terrible turn of events. 

Mingi quickly is at your side, placing the tray into your lap and lingering at your bedside. You thank him for bringing you breakfast, which he is quick to brush off as nothing.

“What are your plans for the day?” You ask him as you start eating, though you essentially know what his answer will be.

Mingi shrugs. “Nothing, really. Is there something that you want to do?”

“Well,” you start, not entirely sure if you want to go ahead with your idea. You pause for a few seconds before deciding that you will simply lose your mind if you stay in this infirmary for even one more day. “I think I’m ready to start working.”

The smile quickly falls from Mingi’s face. You watch as he considers the idea in his mind, his face ever so slightly changing with every new thought you can imagine him having. Finally, his face lands on a very neutral expression. “Are you sure that you’re ready? You feel good enough?” He is clearly genuine in his questions.

You nod, “I’m getting a little stir-crazy, honestly.” Though you mean it seriously, you smile for Mingi’s sake.

Mingi returns your smile. “If you’re sure that you feel up to it, I’ll tell Wooyoung.”

“I definitely am, and Nayeon and Seungmin agree that I am good to go whenever.”

Mingi chuckles a bit, “Yeah, I know. They told me a couple days ago…” He watches your eyebrows twist in confusion, “But I didn’t want to rush you! And you being sick here is a great excuse for me to dump my work on Yunho.” He shrugs, bringing his hands up in a dramatic gesture.

You laugh and Mingi joins you. It’s one of the best laughs that you’ve had in a while, not that that’s really saying much, but it brings you some comfort. Mingi is still Mingi, even if he is a little different. He can still make you laugh and can still make you feel better.

You finish up your breakfast as Mingi tells you about the work that’s being done on the farm, not that he knows all the exact details. Essentially some of the earliest planted crops are beginning to be harvested, but the entire farm still has a bit to go before it’s ready. The livestock are beginning to grow their winter coats as the days get colder and shorter. 

Honestly, you would have never pegged your Mingi as a farmer, but he seems to have a real passion for it now. As terrible as everything around the two of you is, you’re happy that he is able to find simple pleasures out of something so daily and routine as corn and pigs. It’s actually kind of heartwarming for you to watch the twinkle in his eyes as he talks about the farm at large. He seems to be so proud of everything that he has done in participation. 

It makes you wonder if you will have the same sense of accomplishment, but you quickly decide that you won’t. That feeling of accomplishment is the same as the feeling of complacency, and you will never be complacent here. Not if you can help it. 

Once you’re finished, Mingi gathers your tray and leaves, promising to let Wooyoung know of your decision.

While you’re slightly nervous about leaving the (minor) comforts of the infirmary and taking on responsibilities with unknown consequences, you feel good about your decision. Getting out of this room is perhaps the first step to getting the hell off of this farm. 

Which begs the question, how do you plan on escaping? 

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[ruiniel]

Another way - IV

Summary: What if someone in the 21st century stumbled upon this stranger during a turbulent storm, narrowly avoiding running them over, and what's more they can't understand a word coming out of their mouth.

Fandom: Castlevania animated series

Pairing: Alucard x Reader

Rating: Mature / 18+ only

Tags & Warnings: explicit language, depressive character, character-meets-world, modern AU, Fantasy, References to personal Loss, References to Grief, more tags to be added

IV.

It’s you, and him, and the low crackle of fire inside the room confined in its stone shelter.

Evening came sooner than you’d expected and you had lost track of time showing him around the place, the tool shed and close surroundings of the cabin, speaking and gesturing for good measure in your explanations.

And Adrian followed you, sometimes speaking to himself as one thinking out loud, but mostly staying silent and observant — while seeming so, so far away. It was an odd contrast. 

Thinking back, the singular most out-of-the-ordinary moment of today was when you’d passed by the car. Adrian had approached it carefully, so tense the image of some sort of prowling animal arose in your mind.

“What? This dusty thing?” you’d asked, closing behind him, watching as he curiously placed his hand on the hood like someone who’s just made a baffling discovery. “It’s hard to upkeep, has some sentimental value, though,” you’d added as he walked around it, studied the wheels, the angles of the vehicle, murmuring all the way with an expression close to awe on his face.

You’d eventually left him there to return inside, bracketing the thought ‘none of my business, none of my business’  in your mind all the way.

You have not the slightest idea what to do about him, once you reach the city. Go to the police? Find out where he’s from and reach out to an embassy? He has no ID or any other identifying information, not from what you’ve gathered at least.

Conclusion: you’ll start back as soon as you can, give him a chance to find his bearings and then, you’re out.

You still mull over that thought as you glance up at… at Adrian, sitting there across from you on that ancient couch and leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees. He stares listlessly into the fire, a reddish glow tinting his profile and glazing over the rest of him.

“Adrian?” you try, at which point he slowly turns to you, drawn from his thought; waiting.

“I have an idea,” you rise, going over to the kitchen counter and sifting through a drawer. You return holding a ball-pen and an old agenda, plopping down onto the couch next to him and before his expression of dawning understanding, you tap the paper with your finger and say, “Adrian.” You point at him, gesturing as though penning something, “Write it down, please.” 

Maybe seeing the words he speaks in written form will help gauge at least… something.

He nods, then stares at the ball-pen with some fascination as you offer it to him, turning it here and there, interested in the tip especially before pressing onto the paper and doing a tentative swirl. 

You tilt your head, eyes on the elegant lines forming under his hand and your hopes dwindling to nothing the next moment as…

“Ugh,” you drag a palm over your face beneath his stare, his features already falling at your budding confusion. You take the agenda from him, “Of course it couldn’t be that easy…” you grumble, staring at the unknown script you can make zero sense of, turning the agenda upside down. 

He’s written something else, too, using the same unknown letters — beautiful cursive, you’ll give him that, but… “We really need to get back,” you stand, a sarcastic smile on your face reserved for the outlandish turn your days have taken, staring out the window into the falling night. You start to pace as Adrian watches, then sit down and write your own name next to his. 

“See?” you show him. “Different. We’ll head back tomorrow,” you say, gesturing to express the act of driving. “You, and me, we’re leaving here, to-morrow,” you stress when he merely looks at you with no sign of comprehension whatsoever. “So... get some rest, all right?” you say as he covers his face with both hands again, and there's nothing to do now but leave him to his own.

~~

There’s a room on the second floor, one you've retreated to after bidding goodnight. It leads to a small balcony your parents had built into the roof, where you’d retreat many times during your visits here to read or be alone, or to observe the night sky in ways you never could back in the city.

Now, sleep eludes you with the tumult of the past couple of days, and since it’s a mild night for autumn you’ve set yourself up on a cushion, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders; staring at the silent, sleepy forest and the bright, glaring moon like a giant silver pearl, gliding across the tops of pine trees.

You rest your chin onto your risen knees, arms wrapped around your legs, and time glides by in the hourglass of your mind, its sand your memories, good and bad, though mostly…

Mostly, you miss them.

You miss your family so much, wondering how long until it all lessens, how long until you’ll be able to function as before, to live, though a part of you knows nothing will never be the same, it cannot.

You wipe your face with your sleeve, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes and looking out again, to the small clearing sheltering the cabin.

You freeze.

There’s… something there, you realize, eyes widening as the bright lit night reveals a creature of some kind, standing right there.

Fucking impossible.

Four-legged; the brightest coat you’ve ever seen, silvered by moonlight; much too large to be a dog.

A…  wolf?...

“Hhhholy shit,” you gasp, and a primal fear curdles your reflexes into knots. You’re unable to move, the urge to flee never stronger — but your brain takes over immediately, as... What the hell?

You're on the freaking roof, so you're safe, and the more you watch, it’s not as though the animal seems particularly interested, either.

It’s closer to the line of trees than the cabin, and if anything, it seems to be… leaving?

The wolf (you choose to call it that, for now) confirms your thought as it makes for the forest on slender legs, and you stare with bated breath at the great silver-white shadow as it turns its head towards the cabin (from what you can tell).

A part of you has the unseemly impression it’s looking straight at you, though of course that’s... ridiculous. 

You can barely make out more details as the moon hides beneath a strip of cloud, and in the next moment, it — whatever it was — is gone. 

“Isn’t this the right amount of fuckery…” you rub at your eyes again, then glance down at the half-empty glass of wine you’d taken with you. “I think that's enough for tonight,”  you grumble, thinking you’d maybe imagined things. Still, you cannot take the image out of your head. That presence, the unreal, ghostly beauty of it despite the danger...

You remember there are no wolves in the area, there can’t be. Your folks kept telling you this growing up, and you’d never seen one to disprove it either.

A shiver creeps up your arms and ribs, as though your body were freed from a spell, and you rise to stand, the now chilly night-wind icing your face. Yes, maybe you’d imagined things. Content with your reasonable conclusion, you decide to try for sleep.

But it’s the howl that wakes you in the dead of night, raw and long and seemingly endless, that ices your heart and rips your earlier conviction to shreds.

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX - Part X

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MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3 [many stories not on tumblr]

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

AN:

This is a footnote, some language nerdery you didn’t ask for that only adds a bit of context to the writing scene.

Romanian is a Romance language, a linguistic group evolved from several dialects of Vulgar Latin. But! At one point the Cyrillic script was made the basis of alphabets used in various languages in Eastern Europe where the Orthodox Church had much influence, both Slavic and non-Slavic(like Romanian). In Wallachia for example a 'slightly' local variant evolved and was used as the official writing script from the 14th through the 19th century(the Latin script was verifiably also used and recorded from as early as the 1570s). Considering Alucard would be born before 1476, for kicks I chose to have him write using this script. For anyone who cares to visualize Reader’s confusion here’s a sample:

Привѣ́ ꙟ̃ зáрє кꙋ́м пє мъ́рй

Ръсáрє шѝ стръʌꙋ́чє,

Пє мишкътѡáрєʌє къръ́рй

Кѡръ́бïй нє��грє дꙋ́чє.

[delomaniaofficial]

Yes, hi. The dad Ingo Au is adorable, and a brilliant idea. I need more dad Ingo in my life. Also, you got any headcannons or anything like that attached to the idea? I'd love to hear how you came up with the idea, and what life in Hisui is like for the little family that fell from the rift.

ANON YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHO MUCH IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS AU,,, I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS,,,,

Okay so essentially Ingo finds a very lost Akari in Gear station and tries to take her back to her mom, but haha distortion happens and they get sent to hisui.

But they both have memory loss (Akari less so bc kids are somehow WAY more resilient), and Akari clings to Ingo bc parental figure and calls him Papa

Ingo, of course, just thinks Akari is his daughter and is very protective over her in this new land. However they're not totally defenseless; Chandelure comes along bc I said so. Sneasler finds them and takes them to the clan, and Ingo is made warden FORCIBLY by Sneasler, and he and Akari join the pearl clan.

The others try to separate the two, bc the highlands are dangerous, but Ingo goes almost feral over potentially losing his kid and Chandelure is very on edge as well. Sneasler just adopts the kid and ingo and Akari now live in the sneasler den. This also means that Akari first pokemon is a hisuian sneasel, and a Litwick (chandelure materialized a fucking baby for her trainer's child. Girlboss)

So Akari lives in the highlands with Ingo, and they often visit Wayward cave together. And Akari has a mix of plot armor and Disney princess energy because Pokemon don't really attack her bc she's so small. They can't because every pokemon can sense that she is literally a child- a literal BABY.

As such, Akari somehow befriends Wayward xave's very own alpha crobat, and his name is Grapes. She also (somehow) befriends an alpha gabite in the same cave his name is Nito.

Plus with her Litwick, Wicker, Akari has a very overprotective team (which fits in with her family, Chandelure and Ingo are INCREDIBLY overprotective)

And bc of the highlands, Akari meets Melli. Normally, people write that Melli hates protag blah blah blah

Not my au my manz

Akari somehow softs Melli up with Cuteness™️ and sees him as a older brother (often calling him Melmel). This leads to Melli essentially pulling the office "I've only known Akari for 1 day" meme and honestly??? On point.

Also, domestic moments at home are Akari trying to help her dad cook, and decorate the cave they live in (it's connected to Sneasler's den so it's fine) with custom tinkets. They even managed to build a stone oven, and Akari helps her dad cook every morning.

She also knows how to bake, as her mother had taught her how to make bread from scratch, so Akari often tries to make sure her father has some food to take with him.

She maybe 6 but she had standards dammit, and eating plain old berries for every meal just ain't it.

As such she bakes a loaf or two of bread, and one is split between the two and the second is taken home. Ingo uses berries to make jam, with a bit of trial and error, so the two eat jam, toast and eggs for breakfast then probably have a stew for dinner.

Now the funniest thing is Ingo,,, Ingo is tall. And Akari? Akari comes to like,,, just above his knees. (She doesn't grow higher than like his chest or shoulders as a teen/adult.)

(Shes very salty about her height, don't mention it.)

Family training and battle sessions??? Family training and battle sessions.

Chandelure likes to hum, and despite its haunting melody, it's it's easiest way for the father-daughter duo to get to sleep.

Anyway there's my headcanons :) lemme know if yall want more

[floralseokjin]

⤑ made-up love song epilogue (m).

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, romance, fluff, a final resolution, smut; oral (male receiving), penetration, got a lot spicier than i initially imagined, oc was feeling herself words; 6,503

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii  • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue  (+ drabbles)

author’s note; fun fact, I’ve never actually written an epilogue before, but it felt fitting this time around, to tie up all the loose(ish) ends and satisfyingly bring it to a close – she says as if she isn’t writing drabble upon drabble (and more) lol but you get what I mean. I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading ~ 

“The rabbits!” Seokjin cried out of the blue, jumping to his feet. 

Immediately you found yourself slumped into the sofa, having been leaning against him, cuddled up all morning. You sat up, confused as you looked at him. “What?”

His eyes were wide with panic. “I need to feed them! Arin will kill me if she finds out.” 

“Relax,” you chuckled, taking a hand in yours to tug him back to you. He stepped between your legs but kept standing. “They won’t starve to death. When did you feed them last?”

“Last night,” he thought. “Just after I came home from work. Maybe 7.” 

You checked his watch, seeing it was just gone eleven. “They’ll be fine for another half hour.” You stood up, tugging his hand again, but this time to lead him to the kitchen. “Come on, let’s take the stuff for brunch to your place.” 

You’d stayed in bed for a while this morning, just happily holding and kissing one another, still buzzed and definitely still basking in that post-orgasm glow. When you’d finally managed to escape the warmth of your sheets, you’d showered together. Your bathroom was a lot smaller than his – obviously – and your shower bath was even tinier, but you made it work, until you didn’t, Seokjin nearly toppling out over the side while simultaneously nearly getting rolled up in the shower curtain. Of course that had given you the giggles, but you’d composed yourself, finishing up, getting dry and then getting dressed for the day. Luckily, Seokjin had some clothes at your place, so he didn’t have to recycle the ones he’d slept in last night. 

You were treating this day like a Sunday, making the most of being lazy on the sofa before you inevitably had to go and cook brunch up. 

He stopped in his tracks, making you turn back. “You sure?” He asked, pulling you to him, nuzzling his nose against your jaw as his arms wrapped around waist. “I wanted to stay here this weekend.” 

You couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling, linking your hands around his neck as he placed a kiss behind your ear. “It doesn’t matter where we are as long as we’re together.” 

He pulled back to see you, his plump lips already curved into a smile. “You speak such truth. I’m forever awestruck by you.” 

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, but that didn’t stop you from stealing a small kiss. 

Seokjin decided he wanted more, pressing kiss upon kiss to your lips with enjoyable hums. “I love you,” he declared causally after the last that lingered a little. Then he grinned. “How many time will I say that today before it gets annoying?” 

You smiled fondly at him. “You could never be annoying.” You got the last kiss. “I love you.” 

.

.

A lazy day was a lazy day regardless of the house. After Seokjin made sure the rabbits were happy, fed and had fresh water, you started brunch, eating it on the kitchen island as the rain continued, falling down against the tall windows. Any other day you would have found the weather depressing, but not today. Not when you were bursting with happiness and beautifully content. Besides, that just meant you had even more of a reason to do nothing, cuddled up on Seokjin’s large corner sofa as you picked up the series the both of you had started watching a couple of weeks ago. 

At around 5pm you started toying with the idea of going out for dinner somewhere, but then you hadn’t brought along the right clothes and by now it was raining heavier than it had all day. The idea of putting on makeup made you feel even lazier, so you decided on takeout in the evening and a movie instead. 

As Seokjin was arranging the containers and plates around the coffee table, ready to dig in, movie ready to go, you slipped out a question. There’d been something on your mind all day, nothing major of course, but still, you didn’t quite know how to bring it up. 

“What time is Arin coming home tomorrow?” 

“I’m unsure,” he replied, briefly looking over at you before he opened up the black bean noodles. “I need to text Nana.” 

You nodded, opening you mouth to ask a follow up question, but hesitating last minute. He looked at you again, sensing your caution and raised a concerned eyebrow. You hated seeing him worried, so you rushed ahead. “Do you want me to go home beforehand?”

“No, of course not,” he exclaimed, before he furrowed his brow. “Unless you want to of course… If you feel uncomfortable.” 

“I don’t,” you were quick to reassure. You wanted to be there actually, if he was okay with it. “I was thinking her and I should clear the air.” 

You could see Seokjin deep in thought for a brief second before he nodded, sitting back against the sofa to take your hand. “It won’t be like last time. I promise.” 

Seokjin had already told you some of what he and Nana had spoken about Thursday evening, so you knew not to be worried about any potential conflict, but still, you didn’t want to blindside her. “We should probably check with her first though, right?” 

“Okay,” he agreed. Giving you a smile, he squeezed your thigh. “I’ll call her after the movie.” 

.

.

“Should I turn off the lamp?” 

You nodded in reply, watching Seokjin lean over his side of the bed to flick the only form of light you had off. When he rolled onto his back, you immediately pounced, hooking a leg over his hip to settle yourself on top of him, your stomachs flush. It may have nearing 12am, but sleep was not the thing on your mind. 

“Oh, hello,” he responded, happily surprised as his hands found your hips, nudging you closer. 

“Hello,” you smiled, wasting no time with meeting your mouths. 

You were a woman on a mission, knowing exactly what you wanted. Today had been lovely, and yes, you’d already had sex today, but when had that ever stopped you before? You were happy and in love and just couldn’t keep your hands (and lips) off of your boyfriend. On top of that, you were just in a great mood, full of positivity. Nana was fine with meeting tomorrow and that meant you could all clear the air and move forward. You’d finally get to see Arin again too, you’d missed her.

Things were perfect, if you did say so yourself, everything heading in the right direction, and right now you wanted to celebrate that. With Seokjin. In the best kind of way. 

“I would have kept the light on if I knew we’d be kissing,” Seokjin murmured wetly against your lips, his tongue missing yours by a second as you started to trail your way down his chin, throat and then his chest, kissing over his pyjama shirt. 

He felt you start to undo the buttons, his cock beginning to rouse expectantly which was highly amusing for you. As you exposed more and more of his chest your lips followed suit, kissing down his stomach, past his belly button to stop just above his pyjama pants, the tiny hairs that littered the skin tickling. You pulled the shirt open, working your way up again, Seokjin helpfully keeping your hair out of your eyes as he tried to hungrily watch you at work, the light of the moon shining through the gaps in the drapes casting enough light to be able to make you out. 

He let out a shaky moan when you flicked the tip of your tongue against his right nipple, laughing at himself afterwards. 

Back at his mouth, you didn’t stay too long before you sat up, straddling him. 

“Where are you going?” He wailed, annoyed you didn’t want his kisses. 

But it wasn’t that you didn’t want them, more like you wanted something else… 

You moved downwards, covers collecting at the end of the bed as you slotted in between his eagerly opening legs, his hips bucking when you cupped his now fully erect (and trapped) member. You began to run your hand up and down it, a grin on your face as you looked up. “You’re so easy.” 

Eyes having adjusted, you saw his grin was a little more bashful, eyes half lidded as he admired the view before him. “Only for you.” 

Ever the flatterer, you had him inside the warmth of your mouth in no time. You weren’t shy by any means, especially now what with all the times you and Seokjin had been intimate, but there was something about being surrounded in near darkness that gave you a fresh surge of confidence. In the glow of the moon, you could make out Seokjin’s parted lips, his eyes piercing the ceiling, giving you a glorious view of his thick neck, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down slowly as his breathing got shallower, just enjoying the moment. He looked handsome as hell – mixed with that pyjama shirt pushed sinfully open, his toned chest and stomach on full display. For you. 

Taking him deeper, you reached for him, running your hands up his stomach, feeling the firm ridges of muscle. He let out a deep moan, looking down to take your hands in his, eyes heavy with desire as he clasped them tight. You eased up a little, smiling around his cock before you started sucking the tip, caressing your tongue over him time and time again. 

He lifted his hips up, eager for more and you wrestled one of your hands free from his to clasp it around the base of his dick, feeling how wet it was from your saliva as you slowly started jerking him off, placing small, wet kisses against his slit. 

With the hand still on his torso, he slipped his fingers between yours, head relaxing back, eyes shut once he felt you softly begin to massage his balls, coating them in the spit that had dripped down onto them. You took him deeper again, picking up speed as you bobbed your head up and down. The sensation just about exploded his mind. 

“Jesus, fuck, baby,” he gasped, free hand running through his hair and tugging at the roots. “If you keep that up I’ll cum.” 

You found it cute how bad his voice trembled, pulling off to smirk. “And is that a bad thing?” 

“Nope, it’s not bad,” he agreed, a little more himself now that you’d spared him for a few seconds. “I just thought we could do some other stuff too.” 

“Some other stuff?” you laughed, lifting on your knees to crawl closer to him. You continued to massage his balls, feeling them tighten. “Like what?” 

He took a shaky breath, rolling his hips into your touch. “Like…” He paused to groan. Now you were jerking him again, your thumb rolling small circles against his slit. “Sex.” He tried again. “I want to have sex with you.” 

“You do?” 

“I always want to have sex with you.” 

And impatient now, his hands gripped your waist, tugging you to him. You squealed, fingers slipping from his cock to land on his chest, the movement sudden enough to make you think you were falling. He kissed you hastily, a soft growl in his throat as his palm grazed over your ass, fingertips playing with the frill detail of your shorts. 

“I’d be inside you 24/7 if it was possible.” 

“God, I want it to be possible so bad.” You practically lamented, his mouth on your neck now, licking strips up and down the sensitive skin. 

He made another noise, cock twitching against your thigh. You felt impatient yourself now, hands finding the collars of his shirt to push it over his shoulders, needing to strip him. He lifted his back of the bed, letting you shimmy the item off before his hands grabbed at your vest, lifting it up over your head in no time. Your mouths met in a rush, his hands palming your breasts, making you moan out, nipples sensitive as he pinched them between his thumb and forefinger. 

You went to move, wanting to get rid of his pants but he stopped you, fingers wrapping around your ribs. 

“W-wait, wait, wait, wait,” he babbled, pulling you closer. “Let me taste them.” To explain further, he caressed a finger down your left breast, making you shudder. “Mine,” he whispered possessively and then you found yourself hovering over his face, his hands cupping the soft, sensitive flesh as he kissed and sucked them in turn. 

You could feel yourself growing wetter and wetter, shorts uncomfortable as he swirled his tongue around and around your nipple, nipping it gently as he pulled away. “I love your body,” he breathed – hard. “I love you.” 

“Mhmm,” you moaned deeply, watching him suck on the other boob now. Your fingers dug into the pillow, arms trembling with pleasure. “I love you, too.” 

He made a noise of approval, finally letting you break free so you could get his pants down over his hips. His erection was so hard by now it almost stood poker straight, veins angrily visible even in the faint lighting. Pyjama pants below his knees, he eagerly kicked them off the rest of the way, watching as you peeled off your shorts. Both naked, he moaned as you straddled him, sliding up and down his cock teasingly, coating it in your arousal. 

“Honey, please,” he pleaded. His voice shook. “Don’t tease. It’s not very nice.” 

“You tease me all the time.”

He groaned weakly, unable to think of a comeback. You sat straighter, chest wet and shiny in the moonlight, his doing, and you knew he could see it too, his dark eyes watching you silently – hungrily. He looked so good, you couldn’t wait any longer. Wrapping your hand around him, you ambitiously went for it, pushing down and taking him whole. It surprised you both, groaning together as you caught your breaths. 

Although, you didn’t give him much time to get used to the feeling of your warmth hugging him tight before you began to ride him hard and fast, bouncing up and down loudly before you stopped to swivel your hips. He could feel you everywhere, his eyes practically rolling back into his head as you continued your onslaught. 

“Y/N…” He murmured, voice weak as he watched you begin to bounce on top of him again, his hands travelling up your thighs to land on your waist. “Y/N,” he tried again, unable to piece together a sentence. “Shit, keep going like that…mmfph, yeah, just like that…” 

When you felt his fingers digging into your skin you wrapped your hands around his, pushing them away. “N-no touching,” you panted, feeling him lift his legs and fold them at the knee behind you, giving you something to lean back on. 

“Seriously,” he asked, sounding annoyed, yet dreadfully turned on. 

You smirked. “I want you to lay back and watch.” 

He matched the curve of your lips. ‘Oh, I can do that no problem, honey.” He stubbornly kept his voice steady, thrusting inside of you once before he stilled his hips completely. “Could watch you ride me all night.” 

On cue, he folded his arms behind his head, biceps bulging. The casual manner got you instantly hot, bouncing along his cock a couple more times before you leaned forward, changing the angle and in turn hopefully sending him crazy. You moved back and forth, griding all over him, your arousal soaking into his pubic hair. You were wetter than usual tonight, turning yourself on as you rode him, hearing the soft squelching where your bodies met, the pressure on your clit eliciting moan after moan. 

You stared him straight in the eyes, noticing the way his jaw was clenched tight, a muscle twitching in his left cheek, but he continued to persevere, stubborn to the bone. 

That was until he felt your breasts graze against him. His hips jerked up, moaning as he was unable to stop rolling into you, and you let him, let him fuck up into you, moaning softly. 

He grunted. “Someone’s getting tired.” 

You shook your head with a whine. You could be stubborn too. Sitting up, you attempted to bounce again but his hips were working too fast by now, his fists grabbing the pillow below his head to gain some momentum. You cried out as he thrust harder, Seokjin’s own noises of pleasure gasping out of him as if he’d been holding his breath. 

“S-seokjin,” you panted, shakily holding onto his thighs. 

He wasn’t relenting. If anything he fucked you harder. “Honey, just give up,” he said matter-of-factly, yet his voice was strained, veins in his neck visible. 

Confidently he brought his hands to your hips, knowing you wouldn’t stop him now, too far gone. You let your eyes flutter closed, concentrating on how good his cock felt inside you. The beautifully crude sound of him pounding into you. 

“Yeah?” He breathed. “Let me make you feel good now. It’s your turn…” 

You nodded, moaning brokenly, and in the blink of an eye you found yourself on your back, Seokjin situated between your spread legs, finding home once again inside the warmth of your body.

You grasped his shoulders, making more noise as he rolled his hips into you, and hooked your legs around his waist, wanting him as deep as possible 

“Uh-uh-uh,” he grinned, taking your hands off him. “No touching.” 

You started complaining but then he pushed your hands above your head, holding your wrists tight with one hand. “Nghnn. Seokjin,” you moaned, feeling him start to fuck you with his entire weight. His back looked delectable and all you wanted to do was rake your fingernails down it but you couldn’t. 

Although, being pinned down by him wasn’t such a terrible thing. 

After a couple of minutes he pressed the elbow of the arm that had you imprisoned into the mattress, careful not to squash you as he brought the other hand between your legs, beginning to roll your swollen clit between his fingertips. Gasping, your legs fell back to the bed, circling your hips in time with his motions, wanting to cum now that he’d put the idea into your head. 

He chuckled at your eagerness causing you to whine. “Why d-don’t you put those lips to good use?”

“Like this, baby?” He smirked, leaning his face in closer, mouth millimetres from yours, and you just about lunged, kissing him desperately. 

He matched that urgency, at some point unable to keep your wrists in place and as soon as he let you go, you had your arms wrapped around him longingly. A groan tore from his throat, thrusts more determined as he continued to rub your clit, and you could feel your back begin to arch, toes curling into the sheets. 

He could obviously feel you squeezing around him too, ripping himself away from your mouth with a moan of your name. “Y/N. Fuck.” 

That’s all it took for you to crumble, face contorting with pleasure as you stared up at him, pulsing around him uncontrollably. 

“You’re so pretty when you cum,” he cooed, removing his hand from between your legs as he pressed soft kisses to your mouth, your orgasm continuing to wash over you in waves. “Am I pretty when I cum?” He joked, but you were too far gone to snort, let alone reply. 

He kept rolling into you, determined to keep your pleasure going for as long as possible, and you almost felt overwhelmed, back arching higher as you clung to him, a tear escaping out of one eye to run down the side of your face. He kissed it away, continuing to adore you, voice cracking, close himself now.  

“You’re my pretty woman. So pretty.” He murmured against your lips and you kissed him hard, the last of orgasm rocking through your body. Holy shit, that was a powerful one. You felt lightheaded but couldn’t get enough. 

“Fuck,” he gasped, feeling the effects as you squeezed and spasmed around him, and with one final thrust he stilled, beginning to spill inside of you. 

You cupped his face quickly, hands trembling and pushed his head up, wanting to admire his face. His plump lips were parted and shiny, beads of sweat collecting along his hairline, gaze unfocused, eyelids heavy with the weight of his pleasure. He looked positively sinful. 

You gave him a drunken smile, your own eyes barely open, and told him simply, “You’re pretty when you cum.” 

.

.

You awoke just as Seokjin was rolling over, a muscular arm reaching for you, pulling your body into his warmth. It was still raining, even harder this morning, but you didn’t care, not when you were so cosy and in love. You were still both entirely naked, which Seokjin took full advantage of, hand cupping a breast – nothing sexual in it though, more like a comfort thing. You smiled, eyes still closed and cuddled in deeper. 

“Where is he this morning?” 

There was a brief silence as he tried to work out what you were asking, but soon enough he realised and laughed, sound cracked and raspy with sleep. “He’s tuckered out after last night.” 

“Aw, diddums.” 

A Sunday morning without a boner? Blasphemy. His morning woods were part of the package, so honestly it was quite surprising to not feel him hard between your butt cheeks. 

Seokjin kissed the top of your head, making a sleepy sound, hugging you tighter to his body. “He just wants to stay in bed and cuddle this morning.” 

“That sounds perfect to me.” 

You honestly couldn’t think of anything better. 

.

.

Once you eventually dragged yourselves out of the warmth of Seokjin’s giant bed, the rest of the morning and early afternoon went by in the blink of an eye. You had just about enough time for a quick lunch before Arin was due back at 2pm, and even though you were ready to meet Nana this time, you still couldn’t stop yourself from feeling a little nervous. It was only natural, you knew that, so you didn’t dwell on it too much, but as you heard the intercom start to ring in the entryway, signalling her arrival, your worry must have been written all over your face. 

“Hey,” Seokjin said softly, calling you as you hovered by the doorway of the family room. When he saw he had your attention, he smiled warmly. “Everything’s fine.”

You gave him a reassuring smile of your own, watching him answer the call to Nana before he opened up the front door, waiting their arrival. 

Arin came in full steam ahead, her little backpack on her shoulders, her carry-on hopping behind as she attempted to ram it over the step to get inside. Nana was only just getting out of the car, you could see her slightly from where you still stood in the doorway of the family room. 

“Hello, Arin.” Seokjin greeted, amusement clear in his voice as he watched his daughter struggle. “Did you have a fun time?” 

She was too busy huffing and puffing to reply and that’s when he finally took pity on her. He reached out his arm, “Let me take your case.” 

“No!” She insisted. She was a determined little thing. “I can do–” 

She never got to finish off her sentence because as she looked forward she caught sight of you smiling at her. 

“Y/N!” She squealed, case (and dad) immediately forgotten as she ran towards you. You weren’t expecting the wave of emotion that hit you when she wrapped her arms around your middle, face in your stomach, but it was there, and it got you right in the gut. You hugged her back. “You’re here,” she beamed up happily. 

“I am,” you grinned, swallowing back your wavering voice. 

“I missed you. It’s been ages.” 

You could always count on kids to be straightforward with their words. She was going to make you cry if she carried on like this. “I missed you too.” 

“It’s only been a week, sweetie,” you heard Seokjin say. 

Arin turned to him quickly. “It’s still a long time.” Then back at you. “I thought you’d never visit again.” 

You felt your heart constrict, and unsure what to do you looked over at Seokjin, finding him equally as afflicted by his daughter’s confession. Teacher mode activated then. “No, no. I was just... busy with work, that’s all.” 

You winced inwardly at your stupid excuse, not wanting to lie to her, but unable to really tell her the truth, especially at a time like this. 

On cue, you heard Nana’s voice greeting you. “Hi, Y/N.” 

You looked over to see her stood just behind Seokjin, a small smile on her face. She seemed a little nervous herself, which selfishly relaxed you. 

“Nana,” you smiled back, “hi.” 

Seokjin cleared his throat, taking a few steps towards his daughter and you. One look at him told you he was feeling the jitters too. This was brand new territory after all – for all of you. 

“Arin, why don’t you take your backpack upstairs and I’ll tell you when mommy is going home so you can say goodbye?” 

“Okay,” she agreed simply, pulling away from you to bound upstairs before she stopped abruptly. She turned back to Seokjin and ran forward with her arms forward. “Sorry, daddy. I forgot to hug you.” 

He chuckled, bending down to kiss her head before he ruffled her hair. “That’s okay. Now, unpack your things. I’ll bring your case up later.” 

She nodded, giving her mom a wave before her attention returned to you. “Will you still be here when I get back?”

“Of course,” you nodded, ignoring the fresh tug at your heartstrings. 

“She really likes you,” Nana observed just as you lost sight of Arin going up the staircase. 

You shook your head, chuckling as you replied modestly, “I don’t know about that.” 

“She does,” she insisted, smiling afterwards. “It’s nice to see. I’m glad she’s happy with everything.” 

You nodded, unsure what to respond with, but Seokjin saved the day. “Do you want something to drink?” 

Nana shook her hand. “I’m okay, thanks. I won’t stay long. I don’t want to interrupt your afternoon.” 

Seokjin gestured her to enter the room, then moved back to take your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he brought you forward, wanting you to go next, putting the hand on the small of your back instead now. His touch calmed you. 

“Sit,” he prompted Nana warmly, and she perched herself on the edge of the teal love seat. 

“I like what you’ve done with the place by the way,” she said politely, looking around. 

“You and me both know I just threw some new throw cushions down,” he laughed, attempting to ease the atmosphere.  

Nana joined in just as you sat down on the far end of the sofa. Instead of taking the seat next to you, Seokjin perched himself on the armrest, loosely throwing his arm around the backrest, fingers grazing your shoulder. 

Nana’s attention fell to you, her expression now serious. “Y/N, I want to apologise to you.” She began. “I was out of order last weekend. I was angry but that’s no excuse.” 

“I appreciate it,” you replied, finding your bearings. “I understand it was a shock to find out about me.” 

“It was, but I still acted embarrassingly.” She looked down at the floor, ashamed of herself. “To think that’s your first impression of me.”

She had said some terrible things, yes. Not only to you, but Seokjin too, but, Seokjin had also said plenty of cruel things back. You weren’t one to hold a grudge, especially if she was showing genuine remorse, which you believed to be the case. 

“We can start anew if you like?” You offered with a small smile. 

She visibly relaxed. “I’d like that.” Then she hesitated before deciding to carry on. “I meant what I said, it seems like Arin really likes you. I trust my daughter’s intuition.” 

“She really does,” Seokjin agreed with a hum, rubbing your shoulder. 

“She’s been talking about you over the weekend – not that I’ve been prying of course,” Nana was quick to clarify. “You’re good with her.” She looked you straight in the eyes. “Thank you for accepting my child.” 

You weren’t used to having this much praise and attention thrown your way, you didn’t really know what to say, but that was alright, you didn’t think Nana was looking for an outright response. You understood how important this was for her. She needed to trust the woman that spent time with her daughter, just like Seokjin had grown to trust you. It was slightly more difficult for her considering she wouldn’t be spending a lot of time in your company, so all she really had to go off was Arin’s opinion on you. It meant a lot to know she had given you a chance. Last week you had been afraid that might not be the case. 

You smiled gratefully. “She’s really special.” 

“Yes, Y/N says she’s a talented storyteller,” Seokjin mentioned soon after, helping the conversation along as if he could sense that you felt awkward with all the attention cast on you. He knew you too well. 

“Oh really?” Nana looked delighted, eyes on you as she waited for more information. 

You nodded, complimenting Arin coming easy to you. “The stories she wrote while I was her teacher were amazing.” 

“I have the copies somewhere if you want to read them yourself,” Seokjin offered. 

“I’d love that,” she beamed. “Thank you, Seokjin.” 

“No problem. I’ll find them this week.” 

Nana’s gaze happened to fall to Seokjin’s hand still comfortably on your shoulder then, and her smile faltered. In its place appeared guilt. “Listen, I... I hope I didn’t come in between you both because of last weekend.” She turned to you. “I know mine and Jin’s relationship seems toxic and it was until a few days but I,” she paused to glance at Seokjin, “I really want to change that.” 

“You know I do too,” he agreed. 

“I don’t want to fight anymore, or have things tense between us. We both love Arin.” She caught your eyes. “We all love Arin, so that’s the most important thing.” 

You looked down at your lap but nodded in agreement. Arin’s happiness was what mattered the most. 

“It is,” Seokjin replied. 

Nana smiled, satisfied, and stood up. “Okay, I should get going.” You both followed her, starting to walk towards the doorway. 

“Um, I managed to get that Wednesday afternoon free,” she told Seokjin, “is it okay if I collect Arin from school and take her for something to eat?”

“Of course. I know this great pizza place she loves if you want the name.” 

“She already told me about it,” Nana chuckled. “I think she was dropping hints, but directions would be great. Thanks, Jin.” 

“No problem.” He stopped by the staircase, voice raising quite a lot to reach Arin in her bedroom. “Arin, your mom’s leaving. Come say bye, sweetie.” 

In no time at all she was galloping down the stairs. “Will I see you Wednesday?” She asked her mom eagerly. 

“You betcha! How does pizza sound?”

“Yay, thank you, mom!” She squealed, going in for a hug as Nana bent down.  

“I’ll see you in a couple of days, okay, darling. I love you.” 

“I love you more,” Arin murmured sweetly, kissing her mother’s cheek. 

Nana kissed her back, chuckling. “Not possible, but okay.” Then she stood up, nodding to you and Seokjin with a small smile. “Bye both. I’ll see you Wednesday?” 

“See you Wednesday,” Jin confirmed. 

.

. 

You spent the afternoon playing board games together, Seokjin finding a bunch of his old collection in the attic and you had fun teaching Arin how to play, although she didn’t quite grasp the full idea of monopoly yet, wanting to buy everything in sight regardless of if she had enough money or not… It was funny to say the least, even more so when Seokjin was unable to refuse her, loaning her money from the bank time and time again. 

Where’s my special treatment, you’d teased quietly when Arin was distracted, secretly finding it adorable how much of a softie he was when it came to his daughter. 

“You know I’d buy you anything you want,” he’d replied with a grin, unable to stop himself from stealing a quick kiss. 

At around 6pm, you and Seokjin began preparing dinner for the three of you. Only you left him in charge for a little while when you followed after Arin who had gone to feed her rabbits, wanting time alone to talk with her. You hadn’t been able to stop feeling guilty about effectively lying to her earlier and after confiding in Seokjin about it while Arin was unpacking her suitcase, he’d suggested you speak to her about it. He agreed that honesty was the best policy from here on in (within reason, of course) and that she obviously understood something had been wrong last week else she wouldn’t have reacted the way she had when she’d seen you earlier this afternoon. 

She was only getting older and that meant as much transparency as possible when she was personally involved in something. She was at that age where these things would stick with her. Although hopefully nothing like last week would ever happen again. 

You stood by the doorway watching as she cooed and conversed with the Olive and Ariel at first, not wanting to interrupt. She was such a great little pet owner, making sure they were fed and watered enough, helping to clean their hutch, watching over them when they played outside. She adored them. 

After a few moments she noticed you. “Oh, Y/N,” she smiled, “is dinner ready?” 

You shook your head. “Not yet.” Stepping closer you joined her, watching the rabbits bound about. Seokjin had found the largest hutch imaginable. “Did you miss them?” 

“Yes, but daddy has been feeding them well.” 

You stifled a laugh, remembering Seokjin’s panic yesterday morning, but then crossed your arms, clearing your throat. “Hey, listen,” you began cautiously, feeling a little nervous. Arin looked up at you curiously. “Remember when I said I didn’t come over because I was busy with work?” 

She paused to think and then nodded. 

“I was lying actually, Arin.” 

Her eyebrows pinched together. “How come?”  

“Because… I didn’t want to worry you.” 

She took some time to process what you were saying before she shrugged matter-of-factly. “I was still pretty worried last week anyway.”

You smiled sadly. “I know, and I’m sorry about that. Your dad and I…” 

“Did you have an argument?” She was looking up at you curiously, finger playing with Olive and Ariel’s water bottle. 

“Something like that,” you nodded. “It was more of a disagreement.” 

“I thought so because daddy was sad all week.” 

Her honesty stabbed at your heart. 

“Were you sad too,” she asked. 

“Very.” 

“But you’re happy now?”

You smiled at her. “Yes, everything is all fine now. Me and your dad are happy.” 

She looked happy herself at that piece of information, relaxing visibly, but then she asked a question that caught you off guard. “Do you know if daddy and my mom are happy too?” 

“I think so.” You replied as vaguely as you could, not wanting to overstep the mark. But it didn’t feel right. You tried again. “I think things will be different from now on, Arin.” 

“I hope so. I hate it when they argue.” She sounded sad, her gaze cast to the floor. 

“I know. No one likes watching their parents fight.” you sympathised. 

“What about you and my mom?” She asked suddenly, changing the subject a little. “Are you happy?” 

“Yes, I think so.” You smiled at her. “I like your mom. She’s very pretty just like you.” 

Arin beamed and then added, “You’re pretty too.” 

You wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t worry,” she almost whispered, “I won’t use that word again.” 

You were clueless for a moment, not understanding what she meant but then it hit you. She carried on. 

“Not until we all decide. Mommy said I might call you that one day if you want me to.” 

For the second time today you felt emotional, throat tight as you choked up suddenly. You composed yourself expertly though, taking a breath before you smiled and replied. “That’s right. There’s no rush for when we all decide.”  

Arin nodded along happily and you took her hand. 

“Should we go and check on daddy now? See if dinner’s ready?”

“I think so.” She agreed, her eyes rolling slightly. “Last week he set off the alarms because he burned my chicken nuggets.” 

“Oh, gosh,” you said, soon spluttering out a laugh. Arin joined in. Seokjin had failed to tell you that (hilarious) piece of information. “Well then, let’s hurry.” 

Seokjin was searching the pantry for something when you arrived back at the kitchen. “Hey,” he said, shooting a warm smile your way. “How’s my two favourite ladies?”

You looked down at Arin, wanting her to reply and she beamed at her father. “Happy.” 

You nodded in agreement, catching Seokjin’s eyes as you shared a private moment, silently telling him everything was fine now. He shot you a playful wink then, closing the door. “That’s funny, because I’m happy too.” 

You moved closer to him, collecting the messy ties of the apron he insisted on wearing whenever he was in the kitchen to retie them properly. “We were just checking in to see if the chef was burning dinner again…” 

With a surprised huff, he turned to his daughter, eyes wide. “Kim Arin did you tell tales on me?”

Arin erupted into a fit of giggles, you and Seokjin joining in immediately. “Maybe…” 

“It was an accident. Happens to the best of us,” he tried to defend. 

“Sure, sure.” 

Arin was greatly amused by your flippant response, but soon grew sympathetic towards her dad, stroking his elbow. “It’s okay, dad, I forgive you.” 

“That’s very kind of you,” he laughed. 

“Should I set the table?” 

“And that’s very sweet of you,” he added, eyes shooting wide. “Thank you.” 

You helped her get all the cutlery she needed and watched her leave for the dining room determinedly. But your attention soon got stolen away, pulled into Seokjin’s warmth as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You hooked yours around his middle. 

“Okay?” He murmured, checking in as he placed a kiss on your forehead. 

You looked up at him, a smile on your face and gave his waist a squeeze. 

“Okay.” You confirmed. 

Everything was more than okay, actually. 

Everything was perfect. 

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

calculated, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Some people would call you far too serious. Some would call you stuck-up. And some would call you a bitch. But to freshman Jeon Jungkook, you’re the head Calculus I TA noona  – and he’s determined to fuck you.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, pussy spanking, fingering, m-receiving oral, doggy, dirty talk); non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft instigator Jimin lol

--

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

-

"I think Jungkook likes you."

The lead of your mechanical pencil snapped suddenly. Stupid soft graphite. You glared at it, annoyed, and brushed the broken piece away to complete the equation. 

"Who?"

"I think he's taking the afternoon class."

You double-checked the last question and handed him his homework back. "Jimin, you used the wrong equation, here and here."

Park Jimin frowned, face falling when he saw all your corrections. Being one of your parents' friends' kids, your parents and his parents naturally asked you to help him out when he entered the same university as you. You pretty much figured the likelihood of Jimin speaking to you was zero, since he was a dance major and you were a graphics design major. You shrugged and agreed.

Except you forgot you were also the head Calculus I TA and Calculus I was a required course for all students. And, turns out, Jimin wasn't that great at math. That's why you were sitting on cushions at your coffee table in your apartment with Park Jimin, watching a music program as you checked his homework.

"Oh."

Jimin began to look over your arrows and circles. You never actually gave him the answer. He usually ended up forgetting a step in the middle and thus fucked the answer. Usually he caught on easily once you pointed it out. 

You stared at the television screen, listening to the latest hit. Not bad. Catchy. 

"I think I should tell you because he's kind of reckless," Jimin was saying.

You placed a hand under your head and took a sip of your tea, distracted by the cute MC with the blue hair. He had a cute smile. It reminded you of a bunny.

"Who?"

"Jeon Jungkook," Jimin snapped impatiently.

You raised an eyebrow and faced Jimin. "Oi. I'm correcting your homework here. I could just correct it tomorrow and hand it back to you with red marks instead," you threatened.

He pouted at you, his full lower lip sticking out. "Sorry, noona."

You sighed. "Don't call me that. Makes me feel ancient." You turned your body so you faced him as he scowled at his homework. "Okay, okay, I'm listening now. What did you want to say?"

Jimin put his pencil down immediately and began to chat like an excited gossiping auntie. Round brown eyes getting rounder, glad for a break from his math homework. You didn't want to get him started, but he was going to nag you incessantly until you let him talk.

"I think he sits in the back?" Jimin pondered. "Dark longish hair, wears a lot of black. Looks scary when he's thinking because his eyes go really wide and he furrows his brows."

You twisted your mouth to the side and thought. You only attended the class when they had quizzes or exams because during lectures the professor didn't need your help. Mostly you remembered people by their personal scores or their handwriting, because you graded everything as the head TA. Looking at people's faces wasn't really necessary, unless you were looking for cheating. 

"Can't recall. I remember his handwriting though. Not bad," you said, shrugging. "I think he's pretty highly ranked at the moment."

"I think he likes you."

You scoffed. "How did you come to that consensus?"

Jimin tapped his temple sagely. "Intuition."

"If only you used that intuition on Calculus."

He frowned at you, pouting again. You let out a puff of air, conceding.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

Jimin scratched the back of his head. "Well, er... I'm just warning you."

"... Is he a serial killer or something?"

"No, no, no!" Jimin waved his hands on the air hurriedly. "He's really nice. But he can be kind of, uh... forward."

"How old is he?" you asked, glancing at the television for a moment as you took another long sip of your tea.

"Two years younger than me."

You choked. 

"What?" you squeaked between coughs. Jimin hurried over and patted your back as you struggled, becoming pink in the face. "The fuck? Tell him to find someone his own age."

"I did!" Jimin whined. "But he's stubborn."

You rolled your eyes. "You're warning me that I have to break a poor freshman's heart?"

"Kind of."

You rubbed your throat. "Hmph. Darn whippersnappers these days."

Jimin smacked your arm, laughing. "I thought you weren't ancient?"

"I am now knowing some kid is fantasizing about their fucking Calculus TA."

You had said your comment sarcastically. You fully expected Jimin to make some joke, but he froze up a little. You looked over to him. He looked somewhat guilty, like a lost puppy who got caught stealing food. You sighed and patted his back.

"Don't worry, I won't chew your friend's heart out. Finish your homework, so I don't drop you off too late. You have practice in the morning, yeah?"

"Y-yeah, thanks."

-

Forward, huh?

An understatement. 

You were sitting in one of the math department offices, laptop open, your drawing tablet in your lap, thinking. The conversation with Jimin happened about two days ago. In that time, you hadn't attended either morning or afternoon class yet, since it was only lectures. Not that it mattered, because lecture halls were massive. If this Jungkook kid sat in the back, then you probably wouldn't be able to see him anyway. At the moment, however, you were preoccupied with your assignment, to design a logo. Logo designing was difficult, especially since a school assignment didn't exactly have a real client attached to it to ask questions. 

Technically these were Calculus I office hours, but who attended office hours? Nobody.

Who attended any type of calculus office hours?

Yeah, exactly. 

You spent the time doing homework with the door open. You were the only TA that actually showed up for the office hours. Every other TA said it was a waste of time. It was. You still came through; in the off chance some poor kid decided her grade mattered. You felt bad since the actual professor wasn't very patient when people needed extra help. Also, technically you were the head TA, so you did have a bit more responsibility than the others.

Your black boots were perched on the desk as you sat back in your office chair, sketching a few ideas. If a member of the math department saw you, you would probably get in trouble. Thankfully, the math department was usually deserted. Math wasn't exactly the most social subject. 

You took a sip of your tea from your thermos, tapping your tablet pen on your black jean-covered thigh. 

"You look even better close-up, noona."

A clear, silvery, male voice cut through the silence. The voice came from the doorframe right in front of the desk. You frowned, slowly lifting your head from your tablet. How had you not heard him? Were you really that focused on your assignment?

Chucky black sneakers. Black cargo pants, slim fit. Distressed black sweater, hands casually in his pockets. Broad shoulders. Lightly tanned skin. Sharp jawline. A tiny mole under a mischievous smile. Your eyes narrowed as you made eye contact with those sparkling dark brown orbs. Long hair slicked back, with only a few wispy strands on his forehead. 

"Calculus I question?" was your response. 

His smile quirked a little higher. The young man didn't have a backpack with him. Didn't even have a piece of paper stuck under his arm. Wasn't even trying to pretend that he needed help.

"I have questions."

He didn't elaborate. You lowered your legs, placing your tablet on your laptop. 

"This is Calculus I office hours. For calculus questions only."

His eyes flickered to your laptop and tablet. Back to you. 

"Is this what the TAs should be doing during office hours?"

Suddenly, you could feel your pulse in your ears. Point taken.

"What do you want?"

He slid into the chair across from the desk, hands still in his pockets. Watching you carefully, still smiling thoughtfully. It should have been unnerving, but there was no malice in that smile. Maybe you were imagining it though, so you kept your guard up. 

"I'm Jeon Jungkook."

Yeah, I guessed, you thought wryly. "And my name is on the syllabus. What do you want?"

He tilted his head at you, studying your face. 

"How do you know Jimin-ssi?"

Isn't Jimin older than you, punk? "Our parents are friends."

He nodded slowly. He looked around the windowless office, at the three papers tacked to the wall – outdated notices – to the still open door, to the desk with your laptop, tablet, and backpack. Then to you, sitting back in the black office chair, eyebrow raised, hands half-in the sleeves of your gray flannel, cropped black sweater underneath. 

"I think you're beautiful, noona."

Your brain winced at the compliment and your hormones looked up from the abyss. Your brain scolded them to go back to their hidey-hole. You clicked your tongue. 

"I'm too old for you."

There was an ever-so-slight tick of his head. His eyes shifted downward and then flicked back up to you, almost shyly, if it wasn't for the small smirk dancing on his lips. 

"We both know such a mindset is outdated."

You felt your breath catch in your throat. The fuck? Your hormones peeked out again. Your brain was too distracted with trying to find a comeback to tell them to fuck off. You figured you better cut this off right now before it went too far. 

"This whole conversation is inappropriate," you said evenly, standing up from the chair and rolling it back. You walked around the desk and stood in front of it, balancing your ass against it. You crossed your arms over your breasts. "You should leave."

He slowly, slowly gazed up at you. Why did he look so satisfied? Your heart did a little three beat skip. Stop it. Keep it together. Jungkook got to his feet, hands still in his pockets. Then he pulled them out and pushed his sleeves up.

Oh?

Tattoos ran up his right arm, the beginnings of a sleeve. Ink black against light tan, flexed muscle. He was not a skinny pretty boy. You were so busy staring at his arms that you barely registered him placing them casually on either side of you, face right next to yours. Now you were staring down at his broad chest, at his black distressed sweater.

"Excuse me?" you snapped testily, lifting your head to look into his smug eyes. 

"I won't touch you," Jungkook murmured quietly. "Unless you ask me to."

This punk ass bitch.

You narrowed your eyes. "What makes you think I would?"

That small teasing smile came back. 

"Well, for one, you haven't actually told me you have absolutely no interest yet."

Your hormones prodded you excitedly. Your brain told them to shut up. Your eyes moved to the open door behind his head, looking into the empty hall, trying to keep a balanced, even tone. It came out a little sharper than you intended.

"Door's wide open."

"Embarrassed to be seen with me?" Jungkook purred, breath on your cheek. 

You tried not to react even though your hormones were fucking losing it. "What about you?" you shot back sharply. 

You heard Jungkook chuckle. "Fuck no I'm not." Your heart jerked heading the crude word come out so daintily and casually from his lips. "I want to be seen with you. All the time. In every position." 

You finally tore your eyes from the open door to give him the side-eye. "Real big words there."

Jungkook smirked. "I'm giving you a chance to tell me no. It's taking everything in me not to bend you over this desk right now and fuck your brains out."

You sucked in a breath. Accidentally. Not on purpose. There's absolutely no way Jungkook would have noticed unless he was literally right next to you. Which he was. Shit. He leaned in closer, still not actually touching you. 

"You like that idea?" he breathed, the lust evident in his voice, not even trying to hide it. 

"I am not some easy bitch at the club, Jungkook. This is the fucking math department," you scolded, eye-level to the base of his neck, wanting very badly to make out with it.

Now it was his turn to inhale sharply. He pulled his head back, and now you were face-to-face with those dark, dark eyes, falling, falling, your body screaming at you to do more. And still you didn’t, torn between reason and instinct.

"I'm so pissed," he growled, breath against your lips. "That the first time I hear you say my name, I wasn't watching your pretty lips form it."

Those few strands brushed against his exposed forehead, framing his furrowed brow and those intense dark brown eyes, making you breathless, telling you that you should, even though the last shreds of reason were telling you, do not, do not, do not give in to Jeon Jungkook. 

"It's the middle of the damn day," you murmured.

"And you make me horny every second of every day," he groaned, so close now that his nose almost touched yours. "With your stem stare, your assertive stride, your well-spoken words, and your beautiful body that demands to be kissed, loved, fucked." He panted, shoulders shaking. "God, I want you under me so bad. You have no idea, noona."

Resolve? Hello, where are you?

You raised an eyebrow. "You think you're enough for me?"

His dark eyes gleamed. 

"I know I am."

Your eyes flickered to the open door, the vacant hall, feeling Jungkook's body heat hovering so close, so close to you, and then you shifted your eyes back to him. Your brain was screaming at you and your hormones bonked your brain silent. The words at the tip of your tongue came tumbling out, nothing to hold them back anymore. 

"Let's see."

And then you kissed him.

Jungkook’s reaction was immediate, his large hands leaving the desk, grabbing your waist, ramming his crotch into you. You gasped against his soft lips and he slid his tongue inside, playing with yours, moaning, kissing you hungrily. His fingers pressed into you through your clothes, strong, tight, unforgiving. Your eyes flew open, surprised at his eagerness. He retreated his tongue and nipped at your lower lip, sucking on it lightly. You shivered, feeling him lift you onto the desk, pushing your legs open with his hips, grinding against you. He kissed down your chin, lifting your head impatiently, moaning against your skin. Every gentle kiss a jolt to your system, contrasting with his rough hands kneading your waist, pulling you close against his firm body, the fucking desk cutting into your thighs, eyelids fluttering.

There was movement at the door.

You froze.

Jungkook’s lips latched onto your neck, sucking sharply. You choked back a wanton moan, seeing a familiar face. A familiar, plump smile with cute, lovely eyes. He waved a small hand at you and reached for the doorknob, locking it from the inside before winking at you and closing the door silently.

Park fucking Jimin.

That bas–

Your thought was sharply cut off by Jungkook nipping at your throat, hissing as he rolled his hips into your thigh, a distinct bulge pressing into you. He yanked down the front of your sweater, sucking on the space right between your collarbones. You whimpered and shuddered, wrapping a leg around his waist and hooking him towards you, hands finally leaving your chest and grabbing his, fingers getting caught in the holes of his sweater.

“Fuck,” he growled. “I’m so fucking hard already because you’re so fucking hot.”

You caught yourself against the desk, elbow slamming onto the wood. You winced. “I haven’t done shit,” you said, surprised to feel your lips slightly swollen.

Jungkook grinned. “You don’t have to. Just you below me is enough.”

You glared at him and he bent over the desk, grabbing the back of your head, pushing your face to his, kissing you again, stealing your breath. It was the perfect mix of force and desperation, leaving you yielding, back arching as he sucked on your tongue, bobbing his head up and down slightly to pull on it. You tried not to make noise – everything was already too noisy anyway – only crying out softly when he let you go. Now you were on your elbows with Jungkook towering over you, licking his lips, the spare strands now stuck to his exposed forehead. His eyes roamed over your body before landing back on your face. You gave him your best questioning look.

He chuckled darkly. “I want to rip all your clothes off, but something tells me you will be upset with me.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Because this is still the middle of the math department, let me remind you, Jungkook.” You huffed. “I don’t live here. Don’t get crazy.”

He grinned, leaning forward. “Say my name again, noona. God, let me watch your delicious lips speak my fucking name.”

You raised your eyebrows. Then you felt his hands on your jeans, undoing the button, making you jump. The zipper going down, down. He yanked at the seam, digging it into your already wet pussy, shoving your panties into your slit.

“A-ah, Jungkook…”

Oh fuck. That sounded kind of pathetic.

He bit his lower lip, and yanked again.

“J-Jungkook, ah…” Your eyelids fluttered, trying to keep your strict demeanor.

“Fuck,” he hissed, firmly gripping the waistband of your jeans and pulling them down your ass, half-dragging your panties down. “You like that, noona? Do you want me to be rough with you?”

You prayed to the higher power that he would just take the damn hint and not make you say it. But Jungkook was dragging your panties back up, the thin black fabric being sucked into your folds and ass as he pulled them far too high. You gasped, trying not to look down, trying not to look at his face. But he grabbed your chin, dragging you back to him, making you open your glazed eyes, making you see his excited expression.

“Look at me, noona.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Jungkook held the front of your panties and pulled, hard. You had to choke back a moan, the fabric nearly ripping, rubbing harshly against your clit. You felt the squelch of you getting wetter, hearing it clearly as he yanked at it, stimulating your clit.

“Tell me you don’t like it, noona,” Jungkook whispered hotly, letting go of your chin. “Tell me and I’ll stop.”

You spread your legs involuntarily, trying very hard not to make a fucking sound, but it was already obvious by your fists clenched against the desk, your widespread legs, and your pussy lips practically sucking your panties in, so much so that they nearly disappeared into you.

Jungkook snuck a glance down, gasping softly at your glistening pussy being tortured by your panties. He dropped to his knees and you had only one second to be confused before Jungkook’s tongue licked up your slit. You had to slap a hand over your mouth to avoid crying out, leaving your sounds limited to muffled whimpers as he lapped at your juices, groaning into you. Your entire lower body vibrated as he teased your covered clit, smushing the fabric into your deeper, rougher. Your hips strained, trying to hump his face but only digging your panties into you harder.

You removed your hand from your face, biting on your tongue to regain some semblance of thought so you fucking talk.

“T-take it off…” you gasped. You looked down, seeing his mischievous eyes above your quivering mound, licking his lips slowly, pink tongue tracing the contours of his mouth.

Jungkook raised his hand.

Smack!

This time you had to actually shove to knuckles into your mouth and mute your squeal as pain radiated through you, your pussy stinging. He slapped you again, right on your clit, hard, making your throw your head back and nearly hit the desk, hips raising to meet him. Oh, God. He pressed his finger against your aching clit, rubbing hard, standing up to bend over you, an impossibly strong presence as he pleasured you.

“Say it, noona,” he breathed. “Tell me you like getting your pussy spanked.”

He was rubbing your clit so hard that you felt your hips raise into it, eyes rolling back into your head.

“Say it or I’ll stop,” he warned menacingly, voice so low it ripped through you.

You tore your knuckles out of your mouth. “Don’t stop, please, fuck, Jungkook, I love it when you spank my clit, fuck, please, fuck.” The words came jumbling out in a rushed, half-panicked whisper, cut off by your sharp gasp as your orgasm clawed into you. You felt Jungkook slap his free hand over your mouth, shutting off your wail as your throbbed into his hand, turning into helpless whines as he spanked your clit hard and fast, accentuating your high with waves of sudden, aching pain. You pushed his hand away, pressing your head against the desk, gasping.

“Harder, please, Jungkook, harder.”

He was staring at your fucked-out face, massaging your throbbing pussy with his palm, coating his fingers with your cum. Your voice a thin moan, hips rutting into him.

“Believe me, I want to,” he snarled. “I want to so fucking bad, noona, but we’re already loud enough and you’re making a fucking mess.”

He pulled your panties down, nearly useless at this point and roughly shoved two fingers into you. You gasped, tongue lolling out and he took the chance to put two fingers of his free hand into your mouth, rubbing your wet tongue. You could feel every joint, the calluses of his fingertips as he thrust them into you, slopping, wet sounds accompanying his movements.

“Fuck, look at you, noona, sucking in my fingers, letting me fuck your mouth,” Jungkook murmured, centimeters away from your face. “I haven’t even fucked you with my cock yet and you’re already taking me so well.”

If you could think, you probably would have a snappy response, but Jungkook was stuffing his fingers into your mouth and scissoring the others inside your pussy, driving you insane. You made eye contact with Jungkook, him and his blown-out pupils, his lips trembling as he rammed his fingers into your holes faster, harder, sliding you up the wooden desk. Something inside you snapped and you squeezed your eyes shut, your body shaking as you came again, trying to yell, but unable to because Jungkook shoved his fingers into your throat, making you almost choke if it wasn’t for your own expertise. An embarrassing amount of liquid poured down his hand and wrist, dripping down your thighs. You clamped your legs shut, burying his hand, hips jerking as the aftershocks rippled through you.

You heard Jungkook swallow loudly, jaw tight. He slowly pulled his fingers out of both holes, strings of bodily fluid following him as he did so. Your shaking knees were barely holding your lower body up, jeans constricting your calves and your upper body way too fucking hot.

You laid back on the wood, trying to catch your breath. Was it a fucking cliché? Probably. You felt Jungkook lift himself off the desk and you closed your eyes, chest heaving. Of course. He was just going to leave you like this, tearing your secret out of you and then leaving to boast about how he turned the head Calculus I TA into a helpless, submissive puddle of goo without even actually fucking you. Why did you even bother–

You suddenly felt the desk creak and snapped your eyes open to Jungkook climbing onto it, straddling your chest, unzipping his pants right in front of your face. His slicked hair was becoming unfurled now, more and more dark strands falling down around his ears. His brow furrowed, eyes so wide and focused you weren’t even sure he was actually looking at you.

“Uh–”

He reached in his black boxer briefs impatiently and pulled out his thick, leaking cock. Your eyes widened and his found yours, glittering with arousal. A smear of pre-cum grazed your cheek as he adjusted his position to push the red, bulbous tip against your lips.

“I want to fuck you, noona, but you have to clean me up,” Jungkook breathed, gently asking you but also trying to greedily push his dick into your mouth.

You could say something, but somehow you concluded you were going to be muffled anyway, so you opened your mouth, tongue snaking out and licking the head. Flat, wide, and all over, coating your tongue with his pre-cum, moaning at his taste. Jungkook sunk his teeth into his lower lip, hissing softly as he spread his legs even more, lowering himself slowly into your mouth. You licked around his cock before closing your lips and sucking, growing wet as he thrust his hips into your mouth, slow and steady, eyes closed. You reached up to hold onto his thighs, whimpering as you felt his muscular quads through his pants. He opened his eyes and looked down at you, sliding his cock in a little deeper, hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck, noona, so fucking sexy, taking my cock like that,” he groaned, reaching down and pushing your hair out of your eyes. His dark hair hung down, framing his face in shadow, making your pussy throb at the image. “Makes me want to fill all your holes up, makes me want to coat you with my cum and see you covered in it, messy and dirty with me.”

You couldn’t say anything so you just whined, nails digging into his covered thighs.

“You want that?” His voice dropped several octaves again. Your skin prickled hotly with every word. “You want me to jack off all over you and leave you a mess covered with my cum?”

You squeezed your thighs together, desperate for friction, now moving your head to suck harder, rubbing the tip fiercely against the back of your throat.

“F-fuck,” he gritted out. He tapped your hand hurriedly, eyelids fluttering. “S-stop, stop.” You whimpered, sadly looking up at him. He chuckled, rubbing your knuckles soothingly.

Look here you little shit, you can’t say all that dirty stuff and not expect me to be horny, your eyes were telling him.

“I know, I know,” he purred. “But I want to fuck your pussy and office hours are almost over…”

You glowered at him, but reluctantly unhinged your jaw, opening your lips. He slid out, gasping, hitting you in the chin and getting the front of your sweater wet.

“You’re a jerk,” you muttered as he climbed off you.

Jungkook chuckled. “Sorry, noona.”

You shook your hair and reached into your backpack, pulling out a condom, only to turn around and see Jungkook pulling one out of his back pocket.

“Oh.” You blinked at him. “You’re prepared.”

Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows. “I knew what I was coming for.”

A muscle in your brow twitched as he tucked his tongue in his cheek, grinning widely at you as he ripped it open and slid it on slowly, rolling it down his thick cock. His voice changed, dipping raspy and low.

“Turn around.”

Part of you wanted to fight, but then you spied the time. You rolled onto your stomach, sighing exaggeratedly as your legs tangled a bit in your jeans. You felt Jungkook’s presence behind you as he bent over your back, hand sliding over your lips and covering your mouth.

“Sigh all you want, noona,” he growled, chuckling as you shivered. “Just don’t scream when I’m fucking you.”

Your eyes widened as you felt the head press against your puffy pussy lips, pushing in forcefully, expanding your tight little hole as his cock entered you, his moan against your ear, your name dripping with lust. Both of you still mostly clothed, but his cock sliding deep, deep inside you, his teeth on your earlobe. Your walls throbbed around him, squeezing him. He gasped, jutting his hips experimentally into you. A stifled moan sneaked past his fingers, your tongue licking them lightly.

“That’s it,” he breathed. “Nice and tight for me, bent over this desk.” He nipped at your ear, whispering softly as he began to fuck you. “What if someone hears you, whimpering for my cock, begging to be fucked?”

Your hands clenched into fists, eyes fluttering shut, feeling him pound you into the wood, deep and slow and far too perfect.

“Noona, what if someone sees you?” His voice like smoke, invading all your thoughts, threatening your dreams, cursing you with the feeling of his lips on your ear and his hips pounding your ass. “Proper, harsh, strict noona turning into a slut for this cock, bent over this desk and humping my hips so you can get this dick deeper inside you?”

You squeezed your eyes shut and wiggled your ass against his cock. He thrust his hips harder into you, jerking you forcefully upwards, your thighs smacking against the desk. Light flickered in front of your closed eyelids and you opened them, seeing your phone screen glaring at you. A message from Jimin. Finish already! You struggled to say his name and Jungkook lifted his hand for a moment to hear your shaking breath.

“Jungkook,” you panted. “Time.”

He covered your mouth again. “You’re right,” he grunted, rolling his hips into you, biting back his moans as you clenched around him. The wet, slapping sounds became louder as he changed his angle, fucking you roughly into the table. It pushed your hips up and you clung onto the edge of the desk, moaning around his hand, tongue pressed flat against his palm as he fucked you with reckless abandon, beating a damn indent of the edge of the desk into your thighs. The dull ache was going to lead to a bruise, but you didn’t care, pushing your hips back to meet him. A choked wail vibrated in your throat as you came again, whole body lurching as he sunk his teeth into your clothed shoulder, groaning as he came inside you, cock twitching and throbbing against your walls. You felt the condom expand, matched with Jungkook’s hiss as he pumped into you. You pulsed your pussy around him and he detached his mouth, whispering your name against your ear.

“You’re dirty, noona,” he rasped, the words so breathless they made you shiver. “I love it.”

You shakily reached up and peeled his hand from your mouth, gasping as he straightened to hold the condom and pull out of you. Fuck. Oh fuck. You scrambled for your phone, seeing Jimin’s text.

You better rush outta there, noona.

You heard the wet, peeling sound of Jungkook pulling the used condom off gingerly. You turned around, hissing at Jungkook before he threw it in the trash.

“Are you crazy?” you muttered, snatching it from him. “Someone will see.”

Jungkook blinked at you. “What else do I do with it?”

You glared at him and tied it up, grabbing some tissues and wrapping it inside. Then you shoved it in your backpack, along with your laptop, your tablet, the spare condom, and reaching over the desk to unplug your laptop’s AC adaptor so you could shove that in your bag too.

“Fuck, your ass is so sexy,” Jungkook marveled behind you.

“Jungkook, we have to get the fuck out of here, so pack your damn dick,” you ordered, yanking your jeans up. Squelch. You sucked in your lower lip in at the cold, uncomfortable sensation of your soaked panties. You zipped your bag and checked around the desk to make sure you took everything. You grabbed your phone and shoved it in your back pocket, turning around to see Jungkook rezipping his pants. Thank God. You might have been tempted if he hadn’t listened to you. Then you remembered the two bits of condom wrapping on the floor and picked those up too, shoving them in your other pocket.

Jungkook smirked at you. “So thorough, noona.”

You scowled at him. Maybe he hadn’t been in this situation before, but you sure as hell have.

“Stay here for twenty seconds and then leave.”

Jungkook pouted at you. You felt your heart skip a beat.

“But I don’t even have your number.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ask Jimin. You two are in cahoots anyway.” You popped your head out, looking around. No one. You popped your head back in. “Also, you owe me new panties the next time I see your smug little face, you punk,” you added, tone irate.

He smirked at you; his long dark hair wispy around his playful eyes.

You gave him one last look before you tore your eyes away, rushing through every back stairway to get the hell out of there before someone could realize you just fucked a freshman during office hours, your slopping, torn-up panties reminding you with every step that you really needed Jeon Jungkook to fuck you again.

-

part ii

--

masterpost

[niskoo]

Memories kept in the pink hoodie

pairing: Ex! Heeseung x reader

genre: angst, fluff in the end ig, breakup! AU

warnings: swearing, uhhh they like break down together

word count: 2.2k words OMG

a/n: another one of my requests!! thank you all for the ideas its really helping!! mmm this one was very interesting to write because i usually write crack/fluff, aaannndd ive literally never done anything ive written IURHWIU thank you for the great idea anon <33 THIS HELPED SO MUCH OMG USUALLY MY ANGST SUCKS BUT IM PRETTY PROUD OF THIS AAAA ALSO IM SORRY IF THIS WASNT REALLY WHAT YOU WANTED IDK THERE ALWAYS HAS TO BE FLUFF IN MY IMAGINES IG 😓😭

feel free to request and help get rid of my writers block!!

a bit based off of 'try again' by jaehyun and d.ear

You should've known the consequences of dating an idol, you should've been careful. Of course they wouldn't let you be together, he's in one of the rising groups, heck, he was in one of the biggest companies.

It wasn't necessarily the company's fault you were so heartbroken, it's both your faults. You couldn't help but blame each other for how careless you were. You know better than to make things worse, and yet you did.

The evening you go back to his dorm after being confronted by the company, you two started a huge argument of who's fault it was. Either it was his fault for not taking caution during work, or your fault for always checking up on him. All loving actions in the past became reasons for why you should break up, thus cracking your relationship further.

When you went home that night, with your backpack full of your things, you did nothing. You didn't cry, you didn't rage, you simply thought that this was the end, you felt guilty that it had to end like this, instead of just working it out and breaking it off peacefully.

Your heart was left cracked and hurt for sure, but this time, you blame yourself. You shouldn't have met him, you shouldn't have got to know him, it's all your fault. And for the first time that night, you cry.

Your heart clenched at every thought of having to leave Heeseung, more tears falling at the fact that he's not gonna be a part of your life anymore. He's gone, and it's all your fault.

It's when you unpack your things when you realize you still have a bunch of things left at his place, you realize you never want to go back and face him.

You leave your stuff there for the next 2 days, your heart still unready to confront and be reminded of the fact that Heeseung is gone. Unfortunately, he has other plans.

Your phone lights up, and the last name you want to see is lighting the phone up.

'Hey... you left some of your stuff.'

You instantly turn your phone off, breaths picking up as you quickly look away from it and finish your lunch. You can feel the anxiety filling your body as you notice it light up once again, and it swarms in your chest even more when your mother winces at the next text.

You put down your spoon, quickly glancing at the text.

'If you want, you can come by and pick them up? I'll pack them for you...'

Your heart clenches yet once again, you know it's true, literally half your stuff is still there and you have to pick them up. You unlock your phone, quickly sending an 'okay' before completely shutting your phone down. You wouldn't stand a second more looking at his contact.

You decide to go at 11, because that's when the other members are at the company training. You don't know if Heeseung's gonna be there to give you your things, a part of you hopes he is, another hopes he's not there. But then again, who else would open the door for you?

You stand outside the familiar door nervously, picking on your nails and the lint on the hem of your cardigan. Just as you were about to knock, the door swung open, and instead of your ex boyfriend standing there it's the youngest of the group, his eyes wide and puffy lips parted.

As usual, he woke up late. You can't help but chuckle as he picks his shoes up and scurries down the stairs, bidding him a friendly goodbye.

You almost forget about Heeseung, but as you hear shuffling from inside, it all comes back.

You two share awkward glances, the tension slowly building itself back up. Instead of the heated, rage filled tension, this time the tension is guilty, and without each other knowing, yearning.

“T-this way,” Heeseung mutters tightly, eyes glued to the ground as he shuffled quickly to the living room. You follow along just a few seconds later, still processing the fact that this is the end. He could be gone out of your life after this, it’s your last chance to speak.

Your eyes slowly travel up when you stop, the beating of your heart quickening with the slight burning in your eyes. Lo and behold, there your things laid, ready for you to bring back home. You can’t help but notice how it’s packed completely how Heeseung would pack, neat and with care. It’s not too stuffed, it’s in the perfect place.

Biting at the dead skin of your lip, you trudge towards the duffle bag—his duffle bag—and kneel down to grab the handle. The moment you pick it up, you notice how the bag isn’t fully zipped, and a certain pink sleeve peaks out from the tiny space.

All too familiar, the pink sleeve was. It was the one he took from Daniel in I-land. He knew you loved it, for you loved the kid like your little brother. But, he can’t. It’s his, it’s his favorite, he can’t just give it to his ex.

You instantly place the bag down, the tears starting to well up in frustration and sadness. You zip open the bag and take the pink hoodie out, before shoving it into Heeseung’s chest, “Take it, Heeseung, Please don’t give it to me.”

It takes him a few moments, before Heeseung is shaking his head and handing it back to you. “No, it’s practically yours anyway. And you really like it right? It’s just a-“

“Don’t tell me it’s just a hoodie!”

You both are shocked at your sudden burst, frozen in your spot. Your breathing is heavy, like a weight is holding it down and slowing your breathing. There are tears keeping your cheek moist, warm, they stream down continuously, the sensation as if there was fire dripping from your eyes and burning your skin.

Heeseung’s just on the verge of crying himself, the grip on the pink hoodie deathly, he feels the material ripping against his skin. How did it come to this? When did it even happen? It all feels surreal, to think what you two had could fall apart.

All the happy moments in your relationship fading to memories, the hoodie representing the fact itself is true. None of you wanted to take it, afraid it would remind you of the other.

Deep down, you wanted to keep it, keep the memories it held, keep the tears that once soaked it when you vented all your stress to him, keep the scent of Heeseung that lingered on the fabric. You were just too afraid of being reminded that along with the happy memories, came the sad memories of the night you fought and broke it off.

Your grip on the poor hoodie eases, as you slide to the floor helplessly with tears messing your face up. You desperately wanted to hold the pink piece of clothing and keep it forever, and another part of you cursed at you for being too vulnerable.

Your hand quickly wipes away the tears on your cheeks and chin harshly, almost hitting yourself for being so sensitive. Before you could do the action again, a softer grasp is stopping your hand, Heeseung’s other hand reaching up to brush the tears away dearly, blowing your hair away from your face.

Before you could even bring yourself to stop, you’re already reacting to his touch, cowering into his hold and placing your hand over his on your cheek, almost intertwining them together.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into his palm, your other hand reaching up to grasp at his t-shirt. You’re sorry for so many reasons, for not being careful, for all the things you said in the argument, for making a sudden commotion just because of a stupid hoodie. “I’m so sorry...”

“Shh, it’s alright, it’s alright.” Heeseung grabs you into his infamous embrace you would hate to leave, stroking your back with patterns just the way he knew you loved, just the way it would calm you down. “We’ll be alright.”

More tears fall between your eyelashes, dripping and soaking into Heeseung’s shoulder as he himself sniffles quietly into your hair. None of you want to leave each other behind, it’s the painful truth that you both can’t have, the truth you’ve always feared.

A sudden feeling of relief fills you up inside, his words reassure you in a way, we’ll be alright, you’ll be okay, it just had to leave his lips for you to believe it. You crawl closer to Heeseung, squeezing yourself in his bear hug, “We’ll be okay, we can make it right,”

A hoarse and hearty laugh leaves Heeseung, it shakes right by your ear as you press it against his chest, and he nods, “Yeah,”

He gently pulls your head back right in front of his, wiping the last of your tears and tucking the stray hairs back to the back of your ear, “Let’s just talk,” his whisper tickles your nose, causing you to lightly giggle at the feeling, his lips pressing softly against the pink tinted skin, “Make everything better?”

You nod, finally grasping at the pink hoodie and holding it tight to your chest as Heeseung laughs and bonks his forehead right on yours.

For the next few hours, you talk, make up, talk some more, maybe even a small cuddle, but that’s a secret. You make ramen for when the other members come back from practice, you feel happy to see the members thank you and eat with enthusiasm, you feel glad this is how your last moments together last.

Now you have the (practically ripped) pink hoodie in your arms as you bid the boys goodbye, slightly tearing up at the sight of them sadly waving, but you keep it in and continue your way back home, where you would tell your mom how you ended it on good terms.

And that night, you slip on the pink hoodie before you sleep, and you feel a piece of paper poking at your arm. You’re surprised to see a crumpled envelope poking out, your name written messily in blue ink.

You pull the envelope out quickly, opening it out with something bubbling in the pit of your stomach as you notice the handwriting as Heeseung’s.

‘My dear Y/n,

Hello there! I don’t know if i got the guts to make it right with you or if i pussied out and watched you as you drove away with regrets, but that’s what this letter is for. hopefully you didn’t throw this letter away hehe

i just wanted to thank you. for everything. your love, your care, your trust, Your happiness, thank you for everything you’ve given me. im sorry we had to end our journey, but know that you’ll be in my mind everyday. when we practice, I’ll remember your encouraging smile, when we win, I'll remember the fact that it’s you who gave me the courage to start this whole career.

i love you y/n. we’ll both probably find our other person in the future, but you’ll forever be in my heart as my first love, my first heartbreak, my best memory. thank you for helping me through my hardest times, thank you for helping the other boys through their worst times, especially jungwon, he’ll miss you the most.

i guess this is goodbye, y/n. not forever, of course, but for some time. thank you for everything, i hope you enjoyed the times we had together as much as i did.

with all the love in my heart,

Lee Heeseung :)’

You wipe at your tears for the nth time that day, folding the paper back into the envelope. “Fuck you Heeseung, you’ve ruined my makeup again!” You curse under your breath as you slip the letter into a certain box at the corner of your bedside table, patting your cheeks one last time.

You truly cherish the memories you had with Heeseung. You hope he does too.

[extravalgant]

pls talk more about this switch-up AU you mentioned in the tags of ur one-eyed Jack post! ive got no idea what it is but i am intrigued!!

ITS SOMETHING IVE BEEN BREWING IN MY HEAD MAINLY...!! i just wanted to get that little piece out or else id (implodes)

basically the switch up au has the pirate and wizard switch places between their stories....!!

thats the most basic premise of it but it was meant to develop and explore both the way i characterize my versions of the pirate and the wizard

theres no specific place meant for them to switch bc the origins of this au was me thinking about how each mc would react during core and prominent moments in each story... (pirate marleybone with the wizard, having the wizards previous experience in mind; parts of arc 3 with the pirate - most notably how they handle a world ingrained with magic and having no crew, having to build it up from level 1)

IVE... EVEN GONE AS FAR AS TO MAKE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS FOR IT bc if our wizard is so grossly overpowered in a world rife with pirates then it would offset the equilibrium...!! and my characters are meant to balance that for the time being by being like hey . ur going to destroy the order in the spiral so let me just (puts magic inhibitors on u)

im worried about how the pirate part may fair but i think our pirate excels in places our wizard often falls short of as well, so that way it doesnt feel like im favoring the wizard over the pirate

but . perhaps ill talk about them another day t_t...!!!

im gonna delve more into the jack and wiz stuff below though 💔 this post might get long bc im rotted

- ANYWAYS. part of my jack and wizard post was headcanon bc we don't even know jacks origins which makes it fun to play around with. in my own theory he came from wysteria and something happened that made him cut off ties from there and delve into a pirates life where his talents would be better suited than to stand guard at a school for rich kids

- he and the wizard get acquainted during the tournament (i say this loosely though - not sure how well the timelines would interact but its a nice starting point) to the point of friendship. then we all know the wizard wins the tournament and leaves, and the two part ways until the switch up au happens

- part of what i was planning on writing included a moment where the reunion happens at flotsam purely by accident when the wizard is looking for information the 'pirate' way when they reunite. there we get to see a different side of jack not presented in game where parts are revealed (this partly due to jacks wishes of wanting his private life to stay private for business and personal related reasons) about his past. nothing more past 'the wizard and i go quite a ways back' and 'jack helped me out when i was in a tight spot'

- my #tenderwritingvalmoment comes when the wizard returns a small heirloom to jack that he previously thought that he had lost. in my head it was a necklace with sentimental value but it could be anything LOL. anyways the wizard returns it and jack is surprised the wizard hadnt sold it given it was made of "pure valencian gold" (? dont know if valencian has gold but it was meant to showcase how expensive it would be LMFAO u can tell i only know bare minimum of pirate stuff)

- wizard replies all confused like "of course id return it to you. id think you would miss something like this" or something along the lines that implies that the wizard is sensitive to other people's emotions and is meant to showcase how expressive they can be compared to a seasoned and rugged pirate like jack whos probably only used to treachery

- the rest of the crew is also meant to compare the way the wizard and their captain carry themselves – while they know their captain to carry themselves with dignity and confidence, the wizards words are much more delicate and emotional. they let too much emotion show on their face, allow themselves to get tricked despite obvious signs, help people no matter what - and it makes them curious!

also makes them think the wizard is a bit of a fool but maybe thats a given.... the wizard cant help but wear their heart on their sleeve 💔

- also ill admit that this was also a way for both npcs and characters to interact with both mc's and gain new insight to the way they behave...

(and bc i want to see reactions hehe. heh)

- the wizard struggles to work in a group dynamic setting bc they are so used to working by themselves and shouldering everything... it puts an initial strain on their relationshipn with the pirate's crew bc they feel as if the wizard is underestimating their capabilities

- the pirate struggling on their own for the first time, shocked at how isolated wizards tend to be, surprising other people when they ask for help bc the wizard they knew didnt ask for help!

(the wizard they knew was also on the verge of a breakdown but i digress)

THATS.. PRETTY MUCH ALL I HAVE AS OF RIGHT NOW

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding AU Part V (SW Time Travel AU #27)

Part I - - - - -  Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV 

After a meandering walk through what felt like every path the hanging gardens and marsh pools had to offer, Obi-Wan stopped to lean against a stone wall. 

“Obi-Wan? Are you ready to stop and eat something? As nice as this has been, I’m getting hungry and I’m guessing you are too.” 

Anakin was only being a little sarcastic. It had genuinely been nice to peacefully spend the day with Obi-Wan like this- they hadn’t been to the marsh habitats since the war started. He had resigned himself to watching Obi-Wan enthusiastically greet every wandering knight, master, and elder who they passed. 

It was actually starting to become impressive- Anakin never realized how many members of the Order his Master was friendly with- no wonder he was given a seat on the high council! But after the last heartfelt clasping of hands with a completely unfamiliar Bothan (thankfully for Anakin’s petty jealousy, Obi-Wan wasn’t hugging everyone), Anakin had asked who the knight was.

Obi Wan frowned. “No idea. But I suppose I must have seen him somewhere.” 

Anakin was no longer feeling impressed.

When a group of crechelings wandered by, Obi-Wan appeared briefly overwhelmed with emotion. His shields (apparently even better drunken than sober) didn’t let anything specific slip. But he knew Obi-Wan was feeling something intensely. Bizarrely, instead of saying hello, Obi-Wan hurried out and away with Anakin dragged behind, bringing them back to the stone wall and their skipped breakfast.

“Not yet.” Obi-Wan responded hoarsely. “I want to visit the Room of A Thousand Fountains first, and say a few more goodbyes.”

“Goodbyes?” Anakin asked, a slight chill running down his back. “We’re not shipping back out until the end of the week. Do you always say goodbye to everyone this thoroughly before redeployment?”

“No. Do you think I should have?” Obi-Wan frowned. “I feel like that would have been more upsetting than anything else.”

“Ok then, why are you saying goodbye now? To the whole order?” 

Obi-Wan didn’t reply, he just pushed off the wall to continue on his quest to apparently visit every corner of the temple.

“Master, please, you’re worrying me. If you won’t eat, then let me take you to the Healing Halls so they can check you over for drugs. We can visit the fountains after.”

Obi-Wan finally paused, thinking that over. “I would like to see Bant. She should be there, right?”  

Bant did end up being there, and was more touched than disturbed by Obi-Wan’s sincere joy to see her. While Obi-Wan wandered the halls greeting injured Knights, she ran several tests.

“As far as I can tell, all you had last night was human-appropriate alcohol. No force-user specific drug interactions, and no traces of Spice. It’s possible there’s something I missed, but your force presence doesn’t feel off balance in the manner I specifically associate with drug-induced altered perception. Your blood sugar is a little low and you’re somewhat dehydrated, especially considering you’re in the temple, not out on a mission.”

“I’ll take care of my physical needs after I visit the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Just because a vision isn’t purely induced by the force doesn’t mean I can’t draw meaning from it. I do appreciate how you always looked out for me though, Bant. I’ve missed your fussing.” Obi-Wan smiled, clasping one of her hands in his.

Bant sighed, “If Master Yoda wasn’t off world I’d urge you to talk to him. I haven’t seen you this shaken by a vision since we were younglings. Even if you do seem to be handling it fairly... calmly.” 

Obi-Wan laughed. “I’ll tell him you said that someday. I might be wrong, but I think he’ll be happy to learn about-” Obi-Wan gestured around vaguely, “all this. I’ll talk to him at some point. I’m sure of it.” 

She glanced over at Anakin, who had been a quietly looming shadow the whole visit. He seemed both relieved by the diagnosis as well as bewildered. “Can I speak to you privately?”

Obi-Wan nodded and Anakin stalked out of the test room. 

She scrutinized him, worry more obvious now, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slipping tenses this whole time. You’re still not sure where your vision ends and reality begins, are you? Do you even know when you are?”

Obi-Wan looked down. “I know what’s real and what’s not. I’m just...enjoying not fully living in the moment. I have every intention of waking up.”

“Yeah, that’s a BIG red flag, Obi-Wan. Force.” She tilted her head back and forth, examining him with obvious concern. “I am scheduling an appointment for a soul healer and you are going to go, understand?” She demanded.

Obi-Wan agreed far too easily. She reluctantly let him leave with an earnest promise to eat something real.

Obi-Wan came outside to find Anakin pacing. 

“I’m glad you’re still here,” he told his former Padawan, ignoring the ache in his chest.

“Of course Ori’vod,” Anakin said, ducking his head with a shy smile. “What did Bant say?”

“She wants me to eat something real and visit a soul healer.” Obi-Wan sighed. “Well, I can do at least one of those things.”

“A soul healer! She thinks you’re crazy?” Anakin asked offended. 

“First of all, you don’t have to be unstable to visit a soul healer. I’ve seen them in the past, when there wasn’t as much wrong with me. I’m sorry if I led you to believe you couldn’t seek out help for your problems.” Obi-Wan said. Another mistake.

“I-I know that. I just thought, you know, Jedi can be judgmental of that sort of thing. A good Jedi is supposed to be able to just, meditate stuff away.” Anakin said bitterly.

Obi-Wan thought furiously. Was this why he had been so blindsided by Anakin’s fall? Had his padawan been so afraid of judgement that he hid all of the warning sides of his struggles with darkness? Maybe he could ask Owen for some sort of petty assistance when he brought over bantha milk next time, to demonstrate to young Luke that it was ok to ask for help. No, he was probably still too young for those sorts of lessons to have much meaning. The insight would require meditation, when he was more sober. 

Unsure how ‘Anakin’ would respond, Obi-Wan tentatively said, “You’re right, that some Jedi might judge for seeking such aid. But I think in the last years of the war, that sort of opinion became less and less common. After all, an ideal Jedi shouldn’t be leading an army. I don’t know if anyone can be perfect during war, let alone a peacekeeper.”

When that failed to garner positive or negative reply, Obi-Wan let out a breath. “It hardly matters, since I can’t exactly visit a therapist, let alone a soul healer, given my present living conditions.” 

Anakin seemed to process that, giving Obi-Wan a long, searching look. “What’s your next point?”

“Hmm?”

“You said first of all, and I think that was all one thing, so what’s your second point?”

“Not exactly being able to visit a soul healer regularly doesn’t count as a separate retort?”

“I guess? I’m just trying to understand what you’re trying to tell me” A twinge of frustration crept into Anakin’s otherwise level tone.

"I appreciate that, truly, and I regret the number of hurtful miscommunications that sprung up from me failing to do just that. Well, I suppose, by most reasonable standards, I am ‘crazy.’ Getting some help with unraveling my mind would probably be best, if it were an option, but it isn’t so...” Obi-Wan shrugged.

Before any followup questions could be asked, they finally arrived at the main entrance to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The archway was stunning, water flowing upwards along the stone in intricate, shifting tessellations. When they stepped through, Obi-Wan was delighted to see Mace Windu sitting on a bench by the entrance. 

“Mace! I was hoping to see you.”

Mace looked at him. He seemed at first, to be utterly unsurprised by the duo’s arrival. But the longer he stared, the more visible shock overtook his features. “Master Koon recommended I look for you...force what happened.”

Obi-Wan just chuckled. “Oh you know. What didn’t happen.”

“What’s wrong?” Anakin asked urgently. “What do you see, Master Windu?”

Obi-Wan tried to wave them both off, laugh a little more forced. “Please, I came here to relax. I’m sure it would be easier to say what’s not wrong with-”

“Kark it, Obi-Wan this isn’t a joking matter.” Master Windu’s voice was calm, but insistent. He slowly started approaching Obi-Wan as though the fellow council member were a feral loth-cat. 

“You look as if...nearly every shatter point around you has broken open. Force, I think you’ve been carrying some of these with you since you were a child. Usually when things that deep break...And some of these- some of these are too big to have just affected you.” Mace hesitantly reached forward, brushing against something invisible.

A chill ran down Anakin’s spine, again. What the kriff did Obi-Wan see in his vision? Last night he mentioned the temple burning, their rooms turned to ash, and Anakin had just...let that go in favor of greedily spending time with this addictively affectionate version of Obi-Wan.

“Mace...” Obi-Wan groaned. “I had been wondering what you might say to me but this is...please, can’t you just give me a hug and let me enjoy the peace for one more hour.”

“Master Kenobi,” Mace said, seeming to revert to an even more serious version of himself. “What I see cracked open around you is bigger than the reemergence of the Sith on Naboo, bigger than the first battle of Genosis. Whatever has happened, you cannot possibly keep it to yourself, practically or morally.”

To the shock of both Windu and Skywalker, Obi-Wan actually rolled his eyes at that. “Mace. You are not telling me anything I do not already know. And I am choosing to spend a little longer enjoying the unique joys of the Temple before dealing with the harshness of reality. Haven’t I earned a small break? I’m not abandoning my duty, but if I don’t take care of myself where I can I’ll go madder than I already have.” 

At no point did Obi-Wan’s voice get whiny or upset, he just calmly dropped a series of bombshells like he was repeating an argument.

Mace and Anakin exchanged glances, but if Mace was trying to communicate something, it was utterly lost on Anakin. 

“Alright, Master Kenobi. I trust your judgement.” 

And, to Anakin’s shock, Mace pulled Obi-Wan for a tight hug. “And I care about you, Obi-Wan.”

For a brief, hysterical moment, Anakin Skywalker wondered if he was about to witness his Master break down crying on the shoulder of Mace Windu the Master of the Jedi Order.

But Obi-Wan just let out a slow breath and returned the embrace before bowing deeply in Respect. Windu returned the bow with a placid expression. 

“If you’ll excuse me...I think I’d like to stand by the waterfall alone for a moment.” He paused, turning to address Anakin. “If you’re willing to wait for me, I’ll happily rejoin you by the glowing mushrooms.” Anakin nodded silently and Obi-Wan beamed before leaving the two alone together.

Mace turned to the young knight in a silent demand for answers, and, for once, Anakin was eager to share what he was dealing with. “He came back drunk last night, talking about the temple burning down, and being well-”

“Unusually emotionally expressive?” Mace offered.

Anakin nodded. “Took a blood sample to analyze in the morning. He woke determined to hug every sentient being in the temple. I actually managed to get him to the halls just before we came here; Master Eerin said there was nothing in his system and...I just don’t know. He’s been off today, but not in a bad way, exactly. Could a vision have caused the shattering you saw?

Mace furrowed his brow. “Not any vision like I’ve ever seen but...these are dark times. And Master Kenobi has had historically bad luck. If some new cataclysm is coming for us- I absolutely believe he’d be the first of us to stumble into it. Something terrible and extraordinary must have happened in the 24 hours since I last saw him in person.”

A beat passed.

“I should go to the mushrooms before I lose track of him,” Anakin said quietly.

Mace nodded. “Skywalker, if you need assistance dragging him back to the healers for whatever reason, comm me, understood?” 

“Understood. Master Koon said the same.” the Knight replied, heart pounding.

The Windu clasped him on the shoulder firmly, "I’m going to check in with Master Eerin. It’s possible she has some suspicions that my observations will help her confirm. Until then...”

“I’ll look out for him.” Anakin promised.

Part VI

[blxetsi]

Can I get some Reiner content pls? Hcs with the kids, cooking, date nights, embarrassing moments, pets, anything!

tysm for requesting !

reiner braun dating headcanons (modern au)

college!reiner braun x gn!reader

warnings: nothing i think, lol meations of his weird parents 

- reiner would be SO NERVOUS around you when he realized he liked you

- definitely started out as friends to lovers, you knew each other through a mutual friend bertholdt, but really became friends when you shared a class one semester

- when he realized he liked you it was in the most mundane situation ever,,, you, reiner, annie, porco, and bertholdt had gotten together for a movie night, and he was literally just about to put his hand on ur shoulder to ask if you wanted a drink (he was gonna get one for himself) and his hand stopped mid air when he realized he had butterflies LMAOOO

- this mf would become sooooo on edge around you,, like you knowing he had a crush was the end of the world 🙄

- annie and bertholdt would talk to him about it (and by that i mean annie would call him a big baby while bertholdt nods along) and then he'd become more relaxed with you once more

- when you two started dating he became nervous ALL OVER again

- insecurities and doubts came seeping into his mind and he wouldnt help but be overbearing at times

- he just wanted to be a good bf 🥺 he doesnt want you to leave him 😭🤚

- you two talk about it one night and it helps calm his doubts

- thats also the first night you two slept in the same bed 🤩

- he was so blushy the next morning, he couldnt look at you without his face and ears becoming red

- is a total tiny spoon idc idc

- sometimes he babysits his cousin gabi when he goes home, so when he took you with him for the first time (it was christmas break) you got to meet her !!

- shes a hyper little thing but so sweet, and she practically DEMANDS that reiner let her paint his nails for him 😭🤚

- you also meet her friends too !! but she tells you that the blond boy falco is her BEST best friend, as opposed to her regular best friends

- you can tell reiner is on edge during family dinners, especially the one you guys had on christmas day, and when you two get to campus you ask him whats wrong

- he tells you that his relationship with his family is a bit strained, primarily his parents

- he loves them of course !! but sometimes they just make him feel,,, not good

- but he reassures you that its okay, and that hes glad they didnt start anything when you were there

- you dont believe its okay but you dont push him

- he brushes the tip of his nose a lot, especially when hes nervous

- its not him like,, picking it or anything he'll just rub the tip with the knuckles of his index finger, he looks rlly cute doing it

- also tries to get you to go to the gym with him, bertie, and annie

- if its something youre into then great !! he keeps inviting you, but if you arent into it he gets a little sad :(

- but its okay ! you try to see him after his workouts with water and something for him to eat

- this is what makes him bring up living together

- i mean, annie practically lives with him and bertie now, whats one more person ?

- and its better because you wont have to come all the way from your apartment to his just to wait for him,,, you can be at HOME and do stuff until they come back from the gym

- it takes a little bit of swaying, but then he brings up being able to spoon him EVERY NIGHT and youre sold 😐👍

- you dont want to ogle at your bf so much,, but seeing him carry boxes from the foyer of the apartment to his bedroom where youre unpacking things is a,,, sight to see

- you asked him to just keep holding the box he had in the doorway of his room while your eyes roamed his arms and chest,, specifically his biceps and pecs

- YOU GOTTA BIG TITTY BF 🥰‼️

- he just stands there like 🙁 until he finally says "y/n please my arms are getting tired just tell me where to put it" lol No ❤️

- after you move in with him and bertie, things get a bit more cramped, specifically in reiners room

- its nothing you two cant handle, just with your things there sometimes its hard to find things, or youre bumping into dressers and tables and beds

- and lets be honest reiners room isnt even big enough for REINER

- so after a year of enduring it, you two decide to get a place of your own !!

- you got two bedrooms so one you could turn into a shared office and the other you could make your bedroom, and this makes things WAYYYYY easier

- by the time you move in youre already so close to your two year anniversary

- you dont think anniversaries are that important so you guys just went out to see a movie last year, but this year ?? reiner has something PLANNED

- and u know this bc you mightve accidentally found his laptop still open in the office,,, with "anniversary plans" written out in a google doc,,, and reiner was in the bathroom and you were nosy,,,

- so you snooped and read it all 😐🙄

- when reiner brings up youre anniversary youre distracted so you say "babe ill do what you got planned dw"

- he just looks at you like "how did you know i had something planned 😃⁉️"

- ANYWAYS LOL

- after that awko taco moment you play it off like "oh i just assumed lol" AND HE BUYS IT !! AHAHAHAHHAHA

- you two go out dressed to the NINES 🤩✨ and you had this weird night on the town 😭😭

- you guys did that food trend on tiktok where you do rock paper scissors and the winner gets to choose drinks, food, dessert etc..

- then you took everything and had a little picnic in the park, and you watched the sunset together 🤩🤚

- then he took you to a fireworks show they had near downtown, and watching the colours mix with the stars in the sky was so beautiful

- it started raining after tho 😭😭😭 and you two had to run back in the rain to the car like it was a MOVIE

- it was an unconventional kind of anniversary date but it was so fun, and reiner was so glad you enjoyed it

- then he brought up what you two would do after college

- "so,, graduation is in a couple of months, and ive already got a job set. and i dont know about you but, im staying in the city after we graduate. i just wanted to know if youll be moving out or, going somewhere else..."

- your heart BREAKS bc youre so sad hes just assuming that youll leave him after graduation, WHICH YOU WONT DO

- you have a paid internship at a facility in the city, so you tell him exactly that and that youll stay with him if its what he wants

- you can tell hes more than relieved, and get so blushy when you kiss his wet face all over

- "reiner i love you."

- HE SHORT CIRCUITS. SWERVES ON THE ROAD AND EVERYTHING !

- but he tells you the exact same thing

- "y/n i love you too."

- and he really does

ive just realized this and all of my other dating hcs arent actually headcanons so much as ideas that i put in point form 😐🤚 gotta work on that 😁👍

anyways requests open hope u enjoyed