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soulmate-game · 4 years ago

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I was feeling angsty. Read at your own risk, there is very little comfort in this and a whole shit ton of hurt. Probably a bunch of emotional triggers, so seriously be careful guys.

—*—*—*—*—*

Liquid pain ran down her arm like poison, the slash in it burning hot and spreading it’s agony like an invisible waterfall inside her flesh. But she did not grip her bicep where the wound had been inflicted, her gaze blank as she forced herself to hide her turmoil behind glass eyes. Her brother’s snarling face was only inches in front of her own, his katana moving from her arm to her throat.

“Useless! To think we share any blood relation is humiliating!” He growled at her. She did not move, did not emote. Her blades fans, the weapon she was loved most, lay half-opened on the ground beside her. Abandoned. But she knew Damian’s sword would not kill her. Blood family was a bond that was not to be severed by murder unless ordered by Ra’s or justified by the murdered family member in question betraying the League. She had done nothing to betray the Shadows, and Ra’s would not waste time and energy, or the breath it would require, to order her death. Just as he would not waste the precious waters of the Pit to bring her back again. She would not die today, and she knew it.

Sure enough, it was only a few more insults in various languages before Damian Al-Ghul stepped back and scowled down at the blood on his blade. Her blood. “If you don’t even have the stomach for real combat, you do not belong here,” he spat.

“That is where we agree, Grandson,” Ra’s sharp voice echoed through the room, his beady eyes never once bothering to glance at his granddaughter. “Maria, you are hereby stripped of the name Al-Ghul. Banishment from the League is the only mercy you shall be granted for your dishonor on our blood. Be useful and use whatever is left of your mistake of a life to stay out of the League’s way. Shall I, Damian, or your mother ever see your face again, your burial will follow shortly after. Am I understood?”

“Yes Gr— yes, Ra’s Al-Ghul.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Maria Al-Ghul was seven years old when she was disowned and sent away from the League of Shadows without so much as a penny to her name. She was only allowed to take the change of clothes she carried, and one small backpack’s worth of items. Her mother— Talia— had watched vigilantly as she packed those items, assuring that Maria did not take anything of worth.

The girl traveled by foot, too small to get away with driving a vehicle. Unless she could manage to steal a motorbike— she knew how to adjust the seats and pedals on most models to accommodate her size. But she was far too far away from civilization for that.

She knew that most of the League expected her to die in the jungles that surrounded the temple. After all, there were ninjas scattered throughout it with strict orders to kill anyone who was not one of them. And Maria now fit that description.

But if there was one thing Maria knew better than anything else, it was how to hide. How to hide feelings, intentions, involuntary movements, or her whole body in almost any setting. She covered herself in mud, matted her hair with dirt and took off her shoes. Barefoot was always quieter, and her feet would be more sensitive to any change in terrain. She would have to move more slowly and be on the lookout for traps, ground litter that could harm her, or dangerous wildlife, but she would be much harder to track.

It took her a month, but she made it to her first Tibetan city alive and decently healthy. She begged for food for a day before snatching a child’s outfit off of some hanging laundry lines and stealing the first decent vehicle she found. It was an old moped, but it beat walking and was already built small. She made it work.

That was how she spent the majority of the next year. She traveled from town to town, stealing what she needed until she could earn money normally. She used that money to buy herself a fake identity, even if she had to use the skills she had hoped to never need again in order to afford it.

Marinette Shiwang was born when she was already eight years old.

It was only a year after her new identity was created when she bumped into a woman in a street market. That was nothing new, those places could get crowded. But when Marinette looked up and saw valuable bracelets and necklaces of gold and jade, she knew she needed at least one. The money she would get for it would have her living comfortably for a short while. So Marinette’s theft-experienced fingers darted out and unclasped one bracelet in a fluid movement. It took less than a second. She barely had the piece of jewelry in her hand before she started to take off, hoping to lose herself in the crowd.

But a small hand clamped around her shoulder, a sturdy thumb pressing against a very vulnerable spot right at the back of Marinette’s neck, at the base of her skull. A clear threat from somebody with experience.

The sweet voice that followed didn’t match the gesture at all.

“Oh, I need that back dear. It was a gift from my husband, you understand.”

Marinette did. She cared about survival more. The small girl twisted, knocking the hand away from her before it could do damage and darting down a side street. The woman followed. It took three hours, but Marinette decided she had finally lost her pursuer before slumping down in the tiny, closet-sized bedroom of her cheap apartment. Her eyes closed for only a second before the window opened, and the smell of newly-baked sesame buns filtered through.

It was the woman and a much taller, much more masculine man. He was practically a giant, reminding Marinette of a certain member of the League that she used to know. They were both smiling.

“My wife figured you would be more open to an exchange than just giving up the bracelet for free,” the man’s voice was deep and inviting. “You can eat as many buns as your stomach can handle, if you give it back.”

Marinette accepted. Mostly because of her fear for people who could track her to her home so easily, when she had been certain she had not been followed. The League has tuned her senses well, there was no way the couple had been close enough to see her when she made it to her apartment. Yet they were still there somehow. Then, it also had to do with the promise of food, and the heavenly smell of the food itself. And then, lastly, Marinette was tired. She didn’t like stealing, it was just a necessity. She would not hurt these people over a mere bracelet that she wished she didn’t have to take in the first place.

Useless, she thought. So much of a bleeding heart that she just gave up what could have paid for two months rent. Too soft to even protect herself. The Al-Ghuls has been right. She was a waste of space and time.

Marinette was ten years old when she became a Dupain-Cheng. Somehow, that strange, dangerous couple had become her new family. Not even she knew how. But she was grateful— they took her back to Paris with them and she didn’t have to worry about rent, or food, or money anymore.

She vowed, that day that she received her spacious attic bedroom, that she would repay them. She would make herself useful, for the first time in her life. She would stay out of their way, be the perfect most unobtrusive daughter ever. She would help in the bakery, keep a smile on her face so that they never doubted that they were doing a good job. So that they never wasted time worrying about her. She smiled, and laughed, and became successful for them. Competent and reliable even though her memories would sink into her dreams every day and make it near impossible to drag herself out of bed in the mornings.

And then, when Marinette Dupain-Cheng was thirteen, she was given a pair of magical earrings and a tiny fairy-god. And Tikki was thorough, at least. Diligent in her explanation. Marinette listened to every word, dread seeping in as she doubted her ability to carry out such an important task. Save a city? Defeat someone much more experienced and magically powerful than her?

Useless little Maria could never. Slightly less useless Marinette could never.

She was only ever meant to play a support role. Stay on the background and make everyone else shine, without ever succeeding in anything worth noting. That was who she was.

But then Tikki gave her the Warning. The catch that came with the Ladybug abilities, and Marinette felt the long-rusted determination in her begin to fire up again. Maybe she could be Ladybug. Maybe she could be useful, at least this once. At least for just this one scenario. She could fight and win the war against Hawkmoth, and that achievement alone could make her happy. Let her die knowing she did something worthwhile.

—*—*—*—*—*

Damian Wayne was seventeen when he and his family found out about the Paris Situation, and immediately went over to offer help. Damian Wayne was seventeen when he watched Ladybug stumble at the sight of him, and immediately run away. But the two of them were twins, and though twin telepathy might be a myth they always did have a certain instinct when it came to one another.

Damian Wayne was Seventeen when he said, aloud on the top of a random Parisian building and surrounded by his family—

“My sister is Ladybug.”

Damian didn’t wait for their reactions, having entirely forgotten about the existence of his father and brothers, before taking off after his spotted sibling.

—*—*—*—*—*

“I knew you were alive.”

In hindsight, those probably weren’t the best words for him to say when Maria clearly thought he was still an assassin.

Damian watched as Marinette spun to face him, her face so much more expressive than he remembered. He could actually see the resignation in the slump in her shoulders, he could feel the fear in her bluebell eyes. The eyes she was lucky enough to get from their father while he was cursed with their mother’s green irises. He used to envy that about her, especially after joining the BatClan. But now he only felt comfort when he looked into her eyes. Comfort that she was different than him, and always had been. In the best of ways.

He watched as his sister was enveloped by a bright flash of pink light, detransforming right in front of him. And without the mask, it was impossible to ignore the relation between them. She had their father’s eyes and nose where he had their mother’s, but other than that they were almost carbon copies of one another. Her blue-black hair was pulled back into twin braids though, something he noted distantly as oddly fitting. They suited her, he thought.

But all those thoughts instantly turned to dust as she dropped to her knees in front of him, head bowed in complete submission.

“Tom and Sabine are innocent,” she told him. “They adopted me out of nothing but goodwill, and they have been nothing but good to me. I never told them a single word about my origin, I swear it on our blood. They think I am just an orphan that was abandoned in Hong Kong—“

“Maria—“

“—so please, don’t harm them. I’m begging you. And there is no need for you to waste energy killing me. You are welcome to stay in Paris as long as no harm comes to Tom and Sabine, but just wait and watch. I know who Hawkmoth is, and our final plan is almost ready. I’ll have him taken down by next week. Just— wait until then, please. My death will take care of itself afterwards, but Paris deserves to be free, and killing me now will set this entire war against Hawkmoth back by at least a year. And I also need that time to pick my successor—“

“Maria! I am not here to kill you!” Damian had to yell to get her to stop babbling and begging. She froze, but didn’t dare to sit up or even raise her head. So Damian took the initiative and sat down on the ground with her, though he kept his distance so that he didn’t scare her too badly. He couldn’t blame her for her reaction, it had been ten years since they had seen one another and their parting hadn’t exactly been pleasant.

But he had changed a lot since then, matured a lot.

“I am completely disconnected from the League,” he admitted. Of the blurry memories he had of her, he did remember that being blunt was the best way to handle information with her. Beating around the bush had always done nothing but make her exceptionally nervous and jittery. Sure enough, his admission was enough to make her look up at him with disbelieving eyes. He risked a small grin. “I didn’t come in my old uniform, did I?” He gestured to himself in the bright Robin colors. Sure enough, Marinette’s rapid blinking proved his theory that she hadn’t even registered his clothing at all to be true. She had run as soon as she recognized his face.

But Marinette did not speak. She sat up a little, still eyeing him cautiously. But her silence helped him finally realize where they were— where she had led him.

The sounds of traffic and other big city noises were all muted, as if muffled by several layers of cloth. Shadows fell over them abundantly, and they were surrounded by dilapidated concrete walls.

She had brought him to an abandoned area far from any activity, where a body would take ages to find. She had then disarmed herself of her only weapon, her magic suit, and had gotten on the ground in total submission.

She had purposely given him the perfect setting to kill her, where there would be no witnesses and plenty of time before her body would be found for him to escape. That realization hit Damian square the chest, leaving him breathless for a moment.

“I am not here to kill anybody,” he reiterated, his voice noticeably much gentler than before. “Not you, not you adoptive parents, nobody. I left the league when I was eleven. Mother—“ he took a breath, but Maria deserved to know. “— she cloned me. Her clone killed me. He no longer exists, but that is of no consequence. She killed me, she and Grandfather disowned me when I made it clear I was not returning. Father— our father,” he was insistent as he leaned forward, not continuing until she met his gaze. “You remember who our father is, right? Bruce Wayne? Mother had dropped me off to be raised with him when I was ten, but of course it was all just one of her plots. It was her miscalculation though, because I ended up growing close to them. To Father and his adopted children. You would get along with Gra— with Dick, the best I think. Although T— Jason would also be a prime contender as your favorite brother, I think. He shares your love of motor bikes, if that hasn’t changed?” She just stared at him, clearly confused and experiencing a lot of feelings at once. He stayed silent for a moment to allow her to sort through them a little.

“I’m Robin now,” he made his voice quieter, but still easy for her to hear. “I’m a member of the Bats. I’m sure they would all welcome you, if you chose to meet them. Though be warned, they can be quite in—“

“Why are you doing this?” Marinette’s voice was barely above a whisper, Damian almost didn’t hear her. But he did, and fell silent. He watched as his sister licked her lips and tried to find the right words to say. “If what you say is true… you have a perfectly good family. Brothers, Father, a comfortable life. Why follow me then? Why offer me… any of that?”

Damian frowned. He didn’t remember Maria being so gloomy, but then again she had been raised to never show her emotions. Maybe, after years away from the temple like him, her true feelings were just easier for him to see now. Closer to the surface.

“I want to get to know you— to get to know my sister, again,” he told her. “Don’t tell them, but Father and the others have taught me to appreciate family. The way I treated you when we were children was not right, and though it was heavily influenced by Mother and Grandfather, I want to make up for it nonetheless. Maybe we can get to know the new us, together?”

Marinette’s eyes went wide with disbelief, but then she clenched her jaw and shook her head.

“We can’t.”

“... right, I understand if you do not forgive me. I didn’t even consider—“

“It isn’t that,” Marinette was quick to correct him. “When I said that my death will handle itself, I mean it, Damian. The Ladybug… the earrings that give me my powers, come with a price,” she absently ran her fingertips over the unassuming black studs in her ears. “If a Ladybug uses the miraculous for more than three years, the powers of Creation will demand to be balanced. Already, the Miraculous is powering itself on nothing but my life force now. Once I defeat Hawkmoth, there will be no need for Ladybug anymore. The moment I take the earrings off, they will cease keeping me alive.”

Damian’s face fell. No— no, that wasn’t right. He was finally able to find her, finally able to apologize and try to fix his past mistakes. This couldn’t be how the reunion went. This couldn’t—

“Not even the Lazarus Pits can bring me back from a Miraculous death,” Marinette went on. “So you and your family should go. You don’t need to be here when I—“ Marinette paused, gasping. “Damian, why are you crying?! Stop that!” Her voice became desperate, Marinette crawling over to him as quickly as she could and wiping away his tears as if they were something terrifying. Damian wasn’t sobbing or making any noise, it was just a silent stream of tears running down both cheeks as he stared at her wordlessly.

“I…” he finally managed to choke out. “I wanted to make up for everything. I wanted for us to be twins again, together.”

Marinette paused, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “I know a magic user who can erase your memories of me,” she offered. “But you don’t have to feel guilty for anything. You never said anything that wasn’t true.”

Damian’s green eyes widened. He had said nothing but cruel things to her, that last year they spent together as children. Did she really believe all of that? Did he and their childhood really affect her self worth this severely and irreversibly?

“Maria—“

“My name is Marinette, actually,” she corrected him with a small smile. “I’m not Maria Al-Ghul anymore. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is actually useful, Damian. I can actually do things right— I’m doing something right right now. Beating Hawkmoth will be the first worthwhile thing I’ve ever done, don’t you see? Once it’s all over, I will have brought honor back to our blood. I’ll have proved to you that I really am your twin, that I wasn’t a mistake. That I was born for a reason,” Marinette’s eyes got dreamy even as Damian just felt like he was impaled again, this time by a spike of ice rather than a sword. “And I’ll be able to die before I ruin it. It’s a perfect scenario.”

“A perfect scenario implies that nothing important is going to be lost,” Damian breathed. Marinette just blinked.

“Yeah, I know. That’s the plan. Defeat Hawkmoth, save Paris, and nobody dies.”

“But you’re going to die!” He growled. Marinette leaned back, bewildered by his violent reaction.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I actually matter. Nobody needs me. Tom and Sabine might be hurt for a while, but they will recover just fine. And it’s not like I have friends or any—“

“Stop worrying about other people, damnit!” Damian surged forward, grabbing her shoulders hard enough to bruise and shaking her a little. “Even back then! Even when we were seven, you threw down your blades because you were more worried about hurting me than you were about how Grandfather would react, even though you knew he would be tempted to kill you for what he thought was cowardice! You never put yourself first, and it’s finally starting to piss me off!”

“Damian—“

“No, listen to me!” He shook her again, his tear stained cheeks only making his glare all the more potent as he stared right into her eyes. “You are alive, and your life matters! You were never worthless or useless, you just didn’t fit what our abusive situation wanted of you. They wanted a cold hearted killer, a tool they could use, and you were always too warm hearted and clever to fit either of those goals. But I did, I was the killer they were looking for and the pawn they wanted. If anything, that makes you better than I ever was! I was too young and naive to see it back then, but I’m trying to make up for it now. You are my sister, whether you go by Maria or Marinette, Al-Ghul or Wayne or Dupain-Cheng, I don’t give a damn! And so help me, even if I have to surgically attach those earrings to your skin, I am not letting you die before you gain at least a modicum of respect for yourself. Do you understand me?”

A wet sniffle met his ears, and he pulled Marinette in for a hug. She returned it weakly, sniveling and sobbing into his cape.

“D-d-Damian?”

“Yes, Shaqiqa?”

Another sniffle.

“I-is it really o-okay for me to stay with you?”

“Of course.”

“I-is… is it really oka-ay for… for me to live?”

Damian’s arms tightened around her. “Always. Always, always.”

Marinette buried her face into his shoulder, taking a deep shuddering breath.

“Th-then… I wanna try.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Not sorry. Ha 😎

#mlb x dc #maribat #platonic daminette #bio!dad au #Bio!Dad Bruce Wayne #sibling Daminette #angst #heavy angst #hurt no comfort #or very little comfort anyway #ml x dc #platonic brucinette #twin AU

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high-functioning-lokipath · 3 years ago

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The Servant - Loki x Reader - Words: 4,568

A/N: Sorry for the late posting today, I had some personal issues this morning so I haven't really been online. Hope you enjoy it! 💜💚

You were orphaned at a young age, never even knowing your parents. The only thing you did know about them was on your 1,000th birthday you would receive a gift from them. Something they had planned to give you even before you had been born.

Growing up was, of course, difficult but thankfully, by your 800th birthday, you'd climbed the social ladder enough to be accepted as a servant in the palace. Surprisingly enough, after almost 50 years of working there, you still had not met the royal family. You chalked it up to working mostly night shifts and didn't give it much thought.

On the morning of your 850th birthday, having had the previous night off, you had planned on sleeping in some and then making the most of your day. However, you were quite rudely woken by 2 young maids, who you were somewhat friends with, rushing into your bedroom.

"Y/N!" They exclaimed. "Get up quickly! The queen has requested to speak with you!" You blinked a few times, not believing what they'd said.

"Did I get full last night and forget about it?" You muttered. They pulled you out of bed and selected your best dress from your closet. "What does she want to see me for?" You asked as they helped you dress. Suddenly you were feeling quite nervous and very sick to your stomach.

"We can't tell you," The one girl, Alexandria, said. "But I promise you it's all good things. You'll be very happy!" The other girl, Hildegard, didn't say anything but smiled knowingly.

Before you knew it, you were being shoved through a set of doors and staring at a table full of the most delicious breakfast foods you had seen. "Good morning," A voice greeted. You looked up at the speaker and realized Queen Frigga had been sitting at the table all along.

"Oh! My queen!" You gasped, curtsying quickly. "My apologies! I didn't-"

"Do not fret, Y/N," She smiled kindly. "Please, sit with me and eat. I'm sure you're hungry."

"I-" You paused, smiling gratefully. "I am actually. Thank you." You sat down and served yourself a small amount, not wanting to appear greedy. The Queen was surprisingly easy to talk to, asking about how various things in the palace were doing while in turn she allowed you to ask different questions about palace life. You found yourself smiling and laughing with her as you both ate.

"Do you know why I called you here this morning?" She asked.

"Not the foggiest," You admitted, shaking your head. "This is quite nice, of course, but I am a bit curious."

"Today is your 850th birthday, is it not?" You nodded quickly. The Queen took a sip from her glass, before continuing. "One of my sons is in need of a new servant. The previous one just got married to a young man from Alfheim."

"How nice for her," You smiled. Your brain, however, caught up with what Frigga was implying. "Wait. You mean you want me to be a servant to the princes?"

"Not the princes, dear girl. A personal servant to one. They each have a personal servant to care for their daily needs. You are not only qualified in skill and ability, but also in age. We never assign maids that are too young to the princes. They can be," She paused, chuckling quietly. "They can be a lot to handle. However, I think you will be just fine." You were speechless, staring at the Queen in shock.

"I-yes! Of course, your majesty. I would be honored."

I have not told you which prince you will be working for," She said, raising an eyebrow in mild surprise at your immediate acceptance.

"Does it matter?" You asked. "It is an honor no matter to be working for your family directly." Frigga nodded approvingly and smiled.

"Then you will not care when I say the position is working for my son Loki?"

"My Queen, as I said before, it would be an honor. I have never heard any ill spoken of you or your sons. So why should I care who I am to be serving?"

"Your attitude and innocence will either lead to your success or your quick demise. I wish you all the best. Now come, I will show you to your new quarters."

You and Loki became fast friends. He treated you more as a peer than as a servant, especially since you came to find out the two of you were the same age. You were surprised at how easygoing the young prince was. Working directly with the royal family, you did start to hear palace gossip about them and you were disheartened to find most of it was about Loki.

One day, when you'd finished with the daily chores you had in Loki's room, which was more like an apartment, Loki walked in and flopped down on the freshly made bed.

"Loki!" You screeched. "I just made that!" You ran over, trying to stretch the quilt where he was not laying at least. Loki smirked at you and your eyes widened. "No, no, no! Loki! I know that look! What are you up to-eeee!" You squealed as he pulled you onto the bed, officially messing up all the sheets. You both laid there for a while, laughing and simply enjoying each other's company. "Why are you back so early?" You finally ask.

"Thor was feeling sick today and-" He paused, looking away sadly. "The others had better things to do."

"They didn't want to fight with you?" You asked. He shook his head and you scoffed. "You are a far better warrior than all of them combined. They should consider it an honor to fight you."

"Y/N, love, you are too kind. But-" He was interrupted by someone opening the door.

"Prince Loki, your mother requests your presence," A young girl said. One of Frigga's maids you recognized.

"Of course," He sighed. "My apologies for messing up the bed," He said, turning back to you.

"It's alright, Lo-Prince Loki," You replied. It was sometimes difficult to remember to add the honorifics on his name after becoming such close friends. But the girl was watching and you didn't want to appear disrespectful.

It took about 2 weeks for you to finally figure out what was going on. Ever since that day in Loki's room, the other servants, with the exception of your friends Alexandria and Hildegard, had avoided you like the plague. But today it all came out. You were in the laundry about to fold the clothes Loki had asked you to wash when you heard two maids talking a few tables away. One was Frigga's maid and they were obviously unaware of your presence in the room.

"They were in bed together!" She whispered scandalously.

"No!" The other gasped. "Tell me more!"

"The sheets were quite a mess. You could tell there had been quite a bit of," She paused briefly, smirking. "Activity." The two of them laughed quietly. "And that isn't even the worst! She almost called him by his name without a title! And he even called her ‘love’!"

"Oh my!" The girl gasped. "I suppose it makes sense. She is Prince Loki's personal servant. And I suppose she should serve him personally," She winked. "Although I do not understand why he would be interested in a thing like her?"

"A whore does not have to be pretty to be talented," Frigga's maid replied. The other girl hummed in agreement.

Hot tears fell down your cheeks. You bit back a sob and hurriedly gathered Loki's clothes in a basket. You ran out of the room and straight to Loki's quarters. As much as you wanted to hide away you had to finish your chores but you couldn't stay there. When you reached his room you placed the basket on the bed as it was the best spot to use like a table. Looking at the bed though, you burst into tears, falling to your knees beside the bed.

"Norns! I've never wanted to stab someone so much!" Loki yelled, bursting into the room. You gasped, standing up quickly, trying to dry your tears.

"What happened?" You asked, turning away from him so he couldn't see your face and trying to keep your voice even.

"Odin! Blasted Odin! He dared to imply that-argh! That man, he dares to call himself a king much less a father-" Loki yelled. He was so angry he couldn't even finish a sentence. You patiently listened, trying to finish folding his clothes.

"What did he say?" You asked quietly.

"He implied things," Loki said vaguely. "About my behavior."

"Has he not done so before?" You asked, slightly confused as to what made him so upset today. Loki shook his head.

"Not like this. He-" Loki winced slightly, hesitant to explain. "He wasn't just talking about me in this instance."

"Ah," You said. "So who's honor has you so upset? Lady Sif's perhaps?"

"Why would I be upset over her?" He exclaimed, finally looking up at you. Rushing over to you he grabbed your hands, pulling you closer to him. "Darling! What happened? Why are you crying?" You pulled away quickly, wrapping your arms around yourself.

"Please don't call me that!" You cried. "I-I'm sorry, Lo-Prince Loki. I am not feeling too well. Could I be excused to my quarters? I will send someone to finish with your laundry." Loki nodded slowly, very confused, and you ran off.

As you ran down the hallway, you collided with someone and you both fell down. "Y/N! Where's the fire?" Alexandria laughed as she got up. She reached to help you and saw your tears. "Who hurt you?" She asked.

"I'm just not feeling well," You lied.

"That is a pitiful excuse. What is wrong?" She ordered. As you walked to your room with her, you explained everything. "Oh honey! I'm so sorry that happened! You stay here. I'll send Hildegard to bring you some food and I'll go take care of Loki's laundry. Ok?" You nodded sadly and laid down as Alexandria hurried out. A few hours later, after you forced down part of the dinner Hildegard had brought you, there was a light knock at your door.

"Come in," You said, voice hoarse from crying. Slowly your door opened and a raven-haired man peeked in.

"Y/N?" Loki said, stepping in carefully. "How are you doing?" You wanted to scream at him for coming. You wanted to tell him to leave. But you were tired.

"Sadly, I am alive." Loki chuckled lightly and sat on the edge of your bed.

"For that I am very much glad," He smiled, resting a hand on your arm. "Alexandria told me what happened." You stiffened at his comment, every worst possible scenario rushing through your mind. "That's actually what Odin was speaking of earlier. He said that I was of age now and, well, he said there would be no consequences if I chose to find, how did he put it? Comfort? In one of my maids?"

"I see," You said slowly. "That-that makes sense," You continued, sitting up in bed, hands in your lap. "After all you are the prince and you have more important things to worry about than where to sate your needs." You looked away, nervous at what his reaction would be. You would be lying if you said you didn't want to be with him. But you definitely didn't want to be an object. Something he simply used and then ignored when it was no longer needed.

"Oh my dear friend," Loki sighed. "Do you truly think so little of yourself? Why do you think I was so upset earlier? After my meeting with Odin?" He brushed the stray strands of hair out of her face, ones that had fallen out of place while she slept. Turning her head towards him he smiled at her, eyes brimming with tears. "You are far too precious to be treated like that. I would never want to treat anyone so,” He crinkled his nose, searching for the right word. “So insignificant.”

"I appreciate that, Loki," You replied, blushing slightly. "But that doesn't change what they think. I'm so sorry. It's not your fault. Perhaps I should go away. At least I wouldn't hear any of the rumors they have to tell."

"No! Please don't go!" He immediately said, reaching out to hold onto you as if you'd take off right then. Running one hand through his hair he sighed. "Perhaps this isn't a good time to tell you."

"Tell me what?" You asked, reaching out to touch his hand but hesitated slightly, nervous as to how he would react. Loki stared at you, watching your movement. He took you hand in his and chuckled dryly.

"I care for you deeply, Y/N. You're my closest friend but," He paused. "But I wish for more. I love you. Very much. If you don't feel the same way I understand. If you want a transfer or want to leave I can have that arra-"

"No!" You yelled, interrupting him. "No! I don't want to go! I-" You gasped. "I love you too!" You laughed happily. "I just never thought you'd feel the same way!" Loki grinned, hugging you tightly.

"I promise to love you till the end of time," He whispered. Stroking your tear-stained cheek gently with his thumb he smiled sadly. "I know things will not be easy for you with the other servants. And I will try my best to make things right. But please come to me, darling. I never want to see you suffering alone."

"Okay," You said, smiling gratefully. He leaned forward and kissed you softly, chastely.

"If I am going to court you, we're going to do this right," He said. "I shall speak with the Allfather and Allmother today."

To your great happiness, they allowed Loki to court you. However, to your surprise, they never agreed when he asked to marry you. 1 year turned into 10. 10 into 100. Soon you had found yourself having courted Loki for over 200 years. They had gone by in the blink of an eye it seemed and, though you both wished to marry, you were happy as long as you were by each other's side. Loki had asked for your hand so many times that Frigga and Odin began to answer him before he even asked. He never stopped asking though.

One day, as you neared your 1,000th birthday, you woke in the middle of the night to a loud clatter in the hallway followed by a curse. You giggled, recognizing Loki's voice, and ran to open the door.

"Loki!" You whisper-yelled. "What are you doing? It's 3am!"

"Y/N!" He exclaimed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I simply knocked over a-"

"Loki, it's ok," You chuckled. However, you noticed he was unusually quiet and wouldn't look at you. "Loki? Is something wrong?" He slowly looked at you, a cool expression taking over his face.

"I was leaving you a note on the door. You'll have a new assignment in the morning."

"Oh! Loki! Did they finally say yes?" You asked excitedly, running towards him. He quickly backed away from you, shaking his head vigorously.

"No," He said. "I-I think it best we don't see each other any more. Therefore I asked for a change in your assignment."

"I don't believe you," You replied. Loki's expression contorted into one of anger.

"If you don't believe me then go read the note I left you! After all this time you don't even trust me?" He yelled.

"Loki!" You hissed, grabbing his arm before he could back away. "I trust you with my life. Don't make this into that argument. We've been over it already. I meant I don't believe what you're saying. I don't think you truly wish our relationship to end. I think someone or something has gotten to you or threatened you and I think you're trying to 'make it easier on me' by making me hate you before you go. Well guess what? It's not going to work. We promised each other to be in love till the end of time and I, for one, am keeping my end of the bargain so if you don't get in here, sit down, and explain to me what's going on I'll go to Frigga myself and ask her."

"Okay," Loki agreed, suddenly looking tired and defeated. Following you into your room he sat on the edge of your bed, fidgeting with his hands. "Your birthday is coming up," He said.

"Yes, it is," You replied, sitting next to him. "What does that matter?"

"Recently, my mother told me that your parents left you a gift for your 1,000th birthday." You nodded, wondering where he was going with this. "I am," He paused. "Familiar with a custom of certain families, usually ones of higher ranking, that they give their daughters a husband on her 1,000ths birthday. And-" He took a shaky breath, looking away. "I fear that is why we've never been allowed to marry. I think Mother knows what your gift is."

"Oh," You said. "I-I never thought of that. I never dreamt-" You started to cry, suddenly afraid of being taken away from the love of your life. Loki pulled you into his arms and kissed your forehead softly. No more words were exchanged. Loki and you eventually fell asleep reclined on your bed, you cradled protectively in his arms.

The day finally came. You were 1,000 years old by Asgardian terms and you were terrified. One of Odin's servants came to you with a request for your presence at breakfast and an excuse from all your duties that day. You bit your lip nervously. Not having to work today meant you had no real excuse to see Loki before breakfast. You hoped he would be there at least.

"Good morning, Y/N," Frigga smiled as you walked into the dining room. You curtsied and forced a smile back.

"Your highness," You greeted. Odin walked in the room and nodded at you before taking his seat at the head of the table. You curtsied again and then heard Thor coming in with his usual ruckus. Turning around you saw Thor physically dragging Loki into the dining room. The latter quickly walked in on his own when he saw you already there.

"Y/N!" Loki exclaimed, running up to you and hugging you tightly. You giggled and hugged him back. Odin cleared his throat pointedly and the two of you quickly pulled away. Frigga shot her husband a glare and then smiled softly at you and Loki. You all sat down, you and Frigga on one side, the two Odinsons on the other side, and Odin at the head, while the servants brought out the food. You tried to help them but Frigga tapped your arm and motioned for you to sit.

"You're a guest today, my dear girl," She said. You nodded, feeling awful for not helping. Eventually, the meal was finished, though you ate very little, and Odin stood up.

"Today is a special day," He boomed, smiling at you. "I will skip over a long and flowery speech since I care for those very little and I'm sure you are anxiously awaiting your gift." You looked away, a bit embarrassed that it was so obvious. "Do not be upset," He chuckled. "There is nothing wrong with your excitement." You looked up at him again and smiled slightly. Loki was right all these years, it was odd to see Odin happy. Somehow his cheerful attitude doubled your nerves.

"Are you ok, brother?" Thor whispered to Loki on the other side of the table.

"I'll be fine," Loki snapped. He shot an apologetic look at Thor and nodded. "Just worried," He added. Thor nodded and patted his brother's shoulder firmly.

"This paper, a letter," Odin said. "Was written to you, Y/N, by your parents shortly after your birth. As you can see, it is sealed with my seal and has not been opened. I, myself, as well as the Queen were present at it's writing." He broke open the seal and started reading.

"Our dearest Y/N, our love, our daughter,

You may not get to see it until much later, but to us, your parents, your eyes hold a bright future. You've yet to say a single word but you've got us wrapped around your little finger. We can't wait to see what a beautiful woman you'll become. We have lain a path for you before birth and now that you're here, it is time to take your first steps in this new and exciting world. No matter what, you will always have our love and support whenever your life shall lead you. Whether we're far or near, we will always be there with you, every step of the way.

As we said, we have something planned for you. Something that will allow you to fulfill your greatest dreams and something that we hope will give you all the happiness in the world.

Many moons ago, your father saved a man's life in battle. The man promised to repay that debt. It was agreed that our families would be joined by the future marriage of our children. The man later had a son, and we, of course, had you."

At this point, hot tears were streaming down your face. As happy as you were to hear how much your parents cared for you. You now knew Loki's fears were correct. This was why you'd never been allowed to marry him. Each word suddenly became as a stab to your heart. Loki, for his part, was not faring any better as he listened.

"That man was our wonderful King, Odin. We hope you, our lovely Y/N, find all the joys you could ever hope for in your marriage to his son.

We want you to know how much we love you and we wish you all the happiness possible as long as you live.

Your parents ~"

Loki's chair screeched as he stood abruptly. Your head snapped up to look at him but he was already storming through the dining room doors.

"Father?" Thor said uneasily, looking quickly between Odin, you and the door through which Loki had left. "What's the meaning of this?"

"Well, my son," Odin said with a wide smile. "It means that Y/N has been promised to-"

"No!" You exclaimed, standing up. "Thor," You said, looking at him. "I love you like a brother. You'll be a fine husband one day but I'd rather die before I marry you." Turning to Odin you saw a frown painting his face. "Throw me in the dungeons, kill me, whatever you wish, but I will not marry Thor. I love Loki and I could never hurt him in such a way."

"My child-" Odin started to say but you ignored him, running out of the room. "Guard!" Odin yelled, calling for one to go after you.

"Husband," Frigga said softly. "Let her be for now. Perhaps there can be a solution." Odin reluctantly agreed and Frigga sat beside him to reason with him. Thor quietly slipped out, feeling rather awkward.

He wandered out to a secluded part of the gardens, a spot he knew Loki loved to hide in. He smiled sadly when he found you curled up in Loki's arms at the base of a willow tree. "I won't do it," You sobbed, gripping his shirt tightly as you cried into it.

"You have to," Loki said, running his hands soothingly over your back. Although his was just as upset, he was trying to be strong for you. "It's been decided," He whispered. "At least you'll be safe and cared for. Thor may be my oaf of a brother but he'll treat you well."

"No I won't," Thor said walking up. "Well, not that I would-" He sighed frustratedly. "I mean that I won't take her." Loki looked up at his brother in surprise.

"Brother, what-"

"Loki," Thor said, sitting down beside his brother. "She refused me already," He chuckled. "Father was not happy but I believe Mother is trying to change his mind." He clapped Loki's shoulder and smiled. "She's yours. I would never dare take that away from you." The three of you sat in silence for some time before Frigga came and found you.

"My children, please come back to the dining hall. I have spoken with Odin and we've made a decision." Reluctantly you followed Frigga, holding tightly to Loki's hand.

As you walked into the dining room, Odin stood up and smiled at you. It was a forced smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Y/N, you have refused to marry Thor, correct?" You nodded immediately. "And Thor, you have refused to marry Y/N?"

"I cannot take her away from my brother, from their happiness." Odin nodded thoughtfully.

"Well then, here is my decision," Odin said. Frigga cleared her throat pointedly, shooting him another glare. "Our decision," He corrected. "This letter was written a few months after you were born, Y/N. Although we'd made the agreement before your birth, it did not go into effect until it was written." He sighed loudly and looked back at the paper. "And by this time Loki was already in our lives." Loki looked at you hopefully, squeezing your hand lightly. "And the letter does not specify which son you are promised to. So it is my great pleasure," He said somewhat sarcastically. "To give you to my son Loki as a bride. Will that be acceptable?"

"Yes!" You exclaimed. "Yes! Oh thank you!" You were nearly screaming in excitement. Loki was frozen in surprise, having never expected his father to give in to their wishes.

"Really?" He asked in almost a whisper. Frigga nodded at him and hugged her son. "Thank you!" He said. Turning to you he smiled widely, hugging you tightly and spinning you around. You laughed as he spun you, happy beyond your wildest dreams.

"Oh Loki!" You cried as he put you down. "I love you so much!" He grinned, kissing you earnestly.

"I love you too, my queen," He smiled. You blushed brightly, looking away.

"Enjoy your day together," Frigga said. "Tomorrow we can make the announcement and start making plans." You both nodded and hurried off to the gardens again, this time much happier.

"And to think all this started because your previous servant got married suddenly," You mused as you walked through the gardens arm in arm.

"Oh it wasn't sudden at all," He said. You stopped in your tracks, staring at him in surprise. "We'd been planning for her departure for some time. I had seen you working and quite liked you but you weren't old enough to be a servant of the royal family yet." Your eyes widened with every word. "I made mother wait to find me a replacement until you had your birthday."

"You chose me?" You gasped. He smiled, turning to face you and brushing a few stray hairs away from your face.

"I will always choose you," He said, smiling widely. "For all time."

"Always."

Loki

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tiredb0igivemesugars · 4 years ago

Text

The struggles that come with being a Stark

Summary: Y/n has been very down lately and feels completely alone even if the tower is buzzing with Avengers every day. On one particular morning y/n is forced to come out of his room and he heads down to his father’s lab, y/n feels very ignored and storms out crying. Peter goes after y/n and gets him to open up. Can something deemed “broken” be fixed?

Words: 2.4k

⚠️Warnings:⚠️ Mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts, some light swear words

Pairing: Tony Stark!dad and reader!son

Note: the timeline is all funky to my understanding but please just roll with it... again

It had been good for a while, really good, but in the back of your mind, you knew it was only a matter of time until things got bad again.

And eventually, they did. Like always

It started with the little things. When you didn’t have the energy to put the freshly washed clothes you thought nothing of it. It started with feeling the need to sleep all the time, you tried to blame it on stress, not wanting to admit how bad things truly were.

Getting up in the morning was harder, showering was suddenly too time-consuming. Before you had the time to realise what was truly going on, you were laying in your own filth. Surrounded by stuff you couldn’t remember ever bringing into your room, the blinds were closed. Sometimes you opened the one closest to your bed, it was nice to watch the outside world from time to time. You saw how your friends ran and played outside, ever since Peter joined the Avengers it was like they just got more and more childish, but it was nice. All of the Avengers had rough lives and seeing them so happy made you feel a sense of relief. This was all Peter’s doing, he was keeping the atmosphere good, it didn’t necessarily matter if you weren’t there, they’d be fine.

That’s what you told yourself, ending it all wasn’t something you necessarily thought about, but it was a game in your head. A fantasy really, a game you noticed yourself playing more often than not. The game kept you busy, sometimes for an entire day.

But there were days when the game wasn’t as fun, on those days you went outside of your room, you tried to do it so that no one would see you, sometimes you’d run into Steve or even to your dad, but not often. Your dad, Tony, made jokes of how you had ”emerged from your cave” and if you were too unfortunate enough to walk out of your room when a lot of them were in the kitchen or in the living room, you’d get an ”oh how nice of you to join us”. You knew that he didn’t do that to hurt you, but it ended up doing exactly that. His words stung, they haunted you even when you were alone, like an echo in your head.

You woke up when the sun hit your eyes, you had forgotten to close the blinds, again. ”Jarvis, close the blinds,” you said, voice groggy. No answer. ”Jarvis?” You asked again, receiving no answer. You groaned as you realised that you had to go down to your dad’s workshop, to tell your dad that Jarvis wasn’t working in your room. You sat up on your bed, feeling hazy. You slowly stood up to walk towards the elevator.

Your dad was working with Peter in his workshop. ”Dad?” You called out from the door, no answer. ”Dad?” You tried again, louder this time. Peter noticed you as you stood by the door. ”Mr Stark,” Peter said, immediately catching your dad’s attention. Peter pointed in your direction. ”Oh, what’s up?” Tony asked, quickly looking at you before turning back to his work. It frustrated you to see your dad ignoring you in such an obvious matter, it annoyed you that he didn’t hear you but he heard Peter.

Frustration turned into sadness as tears prickled by your waterline, you tried to blink them away as you cleared your throat, catching your dad’s attention. ”What is it?” He asked, sounding annoyed in your opinion. ”Nothing, just that J-Jarvis isn’t working in my room,” you said as you walked away. You didn’t want your dad or Peter to see when you cried. ”What’s up with y/n?” You heard Peter’s voice ask as you walked away from your father and him. ”I don’t know, maybe y/n’s feeling a little upset,” you heard your father say, clearly trying to say it in a way so that you wouldn’t hear. ”Should someone check up on y/n then?” You heard Peter ask. You didn’t hear what your father said due to the fact that the elevator doors had closed.

As the doors closed, your tears began travelling down. You weren’t jealous of Peter, you couldn’t be, he brought so much happiness to everyone. It kind of pissed you off how smart he was, you had your fair share of skills which your dad used to take interest in, he tried to get you interested in anything that might involve your skills, thus making you develop. But since Peter came along, it was all about him, it was good that your dad had someone to share things with, since you weren’t really interested in his field, but it still hurt to not get even nearly as much attention from him as you used to.

You weren’t really feeling your nest today, just in case your dad came by to fix Jarvis, which you highly doubted, you wanted to be somewhere else. Maybe the vents, there you could spy on people, you used to love being in there as a child, but abandoned that when you turned older.

You climbed inside the vent and were surprised by how spacious it still was, even for a young adult like you. You had no idea which way you should go but decided to follow the noise that reached the vent, Natasha and Steve in the training area. They were fighting each other while having a rather loud conversation. ”I don’t know what’s wrong with y/n, but I also don’t think that it’s okay for Tony to just ignore it all. He’s not doing anything to make y/n feel better,” Natasha said as he swung Steve’s legs from under him. Steve’s back hit the ground, getting his air lightly knocked out. ”But young people get sad all the time, why should he jump at y/n’s every whim?” Steve asked as he slowly got up from the floor. ”Y/n isn’t just sad, something is wrong and we should help,” Natasha said and kicked Steve in the chest. Steve grabbed her leg and sent her flying across the room.

You didn’t bother listening to their conversation anymore, was everybody suddenly talking about you? Why was suddenly everyone on your case? Why did they care?

”Hey y/n,” you suddenly heard from behind you, making you yelp loudly. ”Hey sorry it’s just me,” Peter apologised. You fell against the wall of the vent but decided to stay there in a sitting position. ”What are you doing here?” You finally asked after calming down a bit. ”I came to check up on you, you seemed a bit off,” Peter explained. You groaned loudly, ”Why is everyone talking about me today!” You complained.

Peter settled to sit next to you, but still giving you space.

”Everyone is just worried, you look sad and we barely even see you anymore. You’re hard to even recognise nowadays.” Peter said, stealing glances at you. You groaned slightly, trying to decide how to possibly end the conversation.

”I do realise that I might be the last person you want to talk to, yet I’d beg to argue that I’m the one to understand you the best.” Peter was right, and you hated it. You banged your head against the wall of the vent in frustration, ”I hate that you’re right.” You finally admitted. You took a deep breath before opening your mouth, might as well. ”I don’t know, it started out small. I was a child and some bad stuff was going down and I really didn’t know how to deal, people are more likely to notice a depressed child than a depressed young adult I guess.” ”Dad got me some help. Talked to a real nice lady, gave me blocks to play with and all. Yeah well anyway, I thought I was better. A lot of years went by that I was completely okay, until recently.” You explained as you pulled on any loose cuticle or nail you could find on your fingers. ”It just crept up all of a sudden, I didn’t have the energy to fold my laundry or make my bed. And then I just started sleeping a lot, like a lot. And before you know it, I’m awake at three in the morning, on the roof, and I’m looking at an at least 20 story drop. And I have no idea what the hell I’m doing there.”

It felt like some weight was coming off of your shoulders, you silently shook, eyes getting a little teary - that was good, right? "And then there's the fact that I'm a Stark. I'm Tony Stark's son and expectations are laid on me every day, if not by him then the world. I don't know if I have what it takes. I mean, I am smart but I'll never be able to fill his shoes." You continued, drawing the curtain open a bit more.

”Did you ever think about telling Mr Stark?” Peter asked, curious.

”Well I mean, at first I didn’t even notice anything that alarming, and when I finally did notice, it felt like it was too late, you know? Like how would I even bring that up? Hey, dad, I kind of want to jump off of a building because I’m sad!” You said, the last part overly cheery to compensate the tears that currently were cascading down your cheeks.

Peter moved a little closer to you, ”You know, it’s never too late, Mr Stark loves you very dearly and he wants to help you.” When you didn’t answer Peter he took the chance to do his own monologue. ”You know, he never shuts up about you. To him, you’re his most successful invention, he always talks about you, never fails to mention your achievements, no matter how small. You’re the best son Mr Stark could have. He’s genuinely so proud of you and he loves you more than anything, it breaks him to see you like this because he’s so lost he doesn’t know what to do to help you.”

After that Peter let the silence sizzle in the air, he waited for you to say something. You needed a moment, what Peter said opened your eyes, you had never thought that your dad even could be proud of you and to hear that he was the proudest of you and he loved you that much just put things into perspective.

”To be completely honest, I was kind of jealous of you and the bond you have with my dad.” You admitted when you felt strong enough to talk again. Peter laughed a little, ”why on earth would you think that?”

”You build stuff together, the two of you as a duo looks like the most normal thing this tower has seen in years. It feels good to know that dad has someone to share his passions with since I’m not all that talented or interested in whatever the hell it is that you two do, yet I sometimes feel jealous. It’s not your fault and you shouldn’t feel bad, it’s just my brain. I’ll get over it.”

”Do you want to go talk to Mr Stark?” Peter asked after a while. The moment was over, but you still wanted to thank him. ”I think I have to. By the way, thank you. Thank you for finding me and talking to me, it really means a lot.” You said and offered Peter a smile, a smile that was for the first time in months, genuine.

Peter returned the smile, ”It was nothing really, you would’ve done the same for me.”

”Mr Stark!” Peter called out once you entered the workshop, the dishevelled head of your precious dad shot up from somewhere admits all of the ”junk”.

”Y/n wants to talk to you!” Peter said before turning to you. ”It’ll be alright,” he reassured you and gave you a thumbs-up as he walked out, giving the two of you some privacy.

”Son! What’s up?” He asked when you approached him. He climbed out of a machine he was building. You took a deep breath as you sat down on something you felt would hold your weight. You felt your dad’s burning gaze, yet, you decided to not return it. You stared at your shaking hands as you slowly began. ”D-dad, I think I need help.” Silence. ”I don’t know, I’ve been feeling pretty bad lately and I feel like I should talk to someone about it.”

You heard your dad pull out something with wheels on it, he seemed to sit on it and roll towards you. His feet quickly came into your view. His hands slowly grabbed yours. ”Look at me,” he said, his voice shook just the tiniest amount. You slowly found his eyes and took the sight in. There was no disappointment or anger in his voice, just worry. ”I want to help you, and I will. But I need to know what’s going on.”

You sniffled a little, breaking the eye contact to collect yourself.

”I didn’t even notice it at first. I just didn’t have the energy to do the everyday things, I was exhausted all of the time. The next thing you know I’m having a staring contest with the concrete from the roof in the middle of the night. I don't even know why. I guess I'm just not happy anymore. It's not that my life sucks or something like that. I'm a Stark, people expect things and I don't know if I can amount to that greatness. I'm not like you, I'll never be." You said, trailing off at the end.

"Y/n, I'll never want you to be like me. You are perfect just the way you are, you are my son - best one anyone could ever ask for. I'll always love you and you're the most important thing to me in this whole world. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you when you needed me the most. I promise I'll get you all the help you need and I promise to never leave your side." Tony said all of those things with ease, his voice shook but there was so much meaning in his voice. It was gentle and loving, like the hug he offered you. You accepted the hug since your dad was the best hugger in the world.

His arms wrapped themselves around your shoulders as you laid your head on his shoulder. "Y/n, I love you 3000, don't you ever forget that." He whispered into your hair.

#marvel #The Avengers #irondad #tony stark x male!reader #peter parker #x male reader #angst #comfort #oneshot #tony stark #iron man #spiderman #captain america #black widow

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inb4belphienaps · 4 years ago

Text

crying over spilt milk

warnings: none word count: 2285

“Truth be told, I’ve been having these dreams. Dreams almost of another life, a past life perhaps. One that I’d lived and seen and breathed through at some distant point in time.”

I read over my words, holding the letter in my hands.

“They are, by far, the most intricate and detailed dreams I’ve ever had. Usually, I don’t remember them. But these…these feel too real, too specific, too thought out to be anything except something akin to memories of a bygone era.”

I recall a few of them with some difficulty. That was always how dreams worked, like trying to grab mist with your bare hands and having nothing tangible left as evidence.

“Shall I confess?

They have now become a source of entertainment for me, having increasingly rooted themselves in my mind, to the extent that I find myself looking forward to (for lack of better phrasing) the ‘next installment’.

It’s bizarre, I’ll admit. How eager I am to get to sleep as soon as the clock shifts from afternoon to evening, when the hour hand turns to six and I wonder if I’ll see him again…”

as you slowly float back up to the surface, the first sound that hits you is the singing of birds. their bright and cheerful chirps filter in with a hint of irony. though they're pleasant, quietened by the curtains hanging over the windows, it means that it's still rather early.

there's a chill in the air and you turn over under your duvet, tucking your feet in further towards your knees, eager to keep the warmth on your skin. and yet, you open your eyes, not needing to blink any sleep from them. oddly enough, you're more awake than you'd thought. whatever dream you'd been having is far from your mind as you bask in the scattered sunlight dancing on your walls.

such serenity ignites a type of mild excitement in you. and with that in mind, you will yourself to get out of bed.

you draw back the curtains and glance outside, looking out at the landscape, where the sun is shyly peeking over the hill. dawn is only just breaking and as you open a window, a gust of wind greets you, sending a rush of floral scents your way.

you can place notes of rose and lavender, and maybe honeysuckle too. the scenery is beautiful, and you lean against the ledge to admire it. clear skies and waves of green, dotted here and there with reds and pinks and yellows. there's a calmness to the color and vibrancy. something you hadn't stopped to feel in a long time.

it stays in the background. while you pour yourself some tea and sit down for breakfast, and when you turn on the radio to the crooning of some ballad you can't quite place. and even as you set about doing the laundry, humming every now and then to a tune only you seem to know.

the basket you use is one you've weaved yourself (in an attempt to be impassioned by a new hobby). it's small and sturdy and it does the job. you wonder whether it'll last you, hoping that if it breaks, it'll at least do you the favor of waiting until it's empty.

though it doesn't take long, you're startled to see the sun in the sky as you step onto the gravel path, basket in hand. it seems to stare down at you and wink as clouds roll overhead, creating capering shadows on the field as you start hanging the wet quilts one by one.

a couple of bees follow you around as you go about your business. and when you stand still to breathe in the smell of freshly washed linen and admire the warm glow cast on those sheets by the light, a butterfly flutters past.

it brings with it the distant ring of a bicycle bell. you look to the east where a man in uniform comes riding up the hill and the smile on your face could bring shame to the flowers lying near your feet.

"good morning", he says, slowing and stopping a foot or two away from you. he tilts his cap and you note the way in which his fringe barely covers his right eye.

"good morning", you reply. "it must be exhausting having to make that trip every day."

he laughs. it's sweet.

"i don't really mind."

in his hand he carries a metal basket and neatly arranged inside are six glass bottles full of milk.

"how many would you like today?", he asks, and you have the urge to tell him you'll take everything he has to offer. but of course, you don't say this aloud.

"just the one, please."

as he picks up one of the bottles to give to you, you swallow your spit and gesture towards your house. the shadows continue to dance above it, making it seem fluid despite its usual rigidity.

"can i get you something to drink? a coffee, perhaps?"

he appears taken aback, eyes widening a fraction before he smiles, and you feel your heart leap into your throat.

"i'd like that very much. a coffee sounds great."

you momentarily freeze, having expected him to refuse your offer. and then you're taking the bottle of milk and your basket back inside as he follows after you. you turn back to him as he enters and the sheets you'd hung flail slightly behind him, almost like a set of wings.

"cream and sugar?"

"um, no. but could i trouble you for some ice?"

an iced americano, you think. placing your basket on the floor and leaving your bottle on the kitchen counter, you busy yourself with preparing his beverage.

"my name is belphegor, by the way. i think you should at least know who it is that's been delivering you your milk."

you pause, having taken a mug out of the cupboard, and meet his gaze. his tone sounds a little indignant. were you simply being sensitive?

"it's a pleasure to officially meet you, belphegor."

the both of you exchange a shared laugh (the sudden bit of formality is embarrassing). he's the first to look away, breaking the eye contact that has goosebumps erupt on your skin. hm, perhaps you were overthinking things. only, the problem is that you're not sure you have any ice in the fridge.

"were you listening to music?"

"yes- oh", you say, confused at the static that greets you. "the program must've finished."

he glances at the radio and then at you. in your bid to locate the instant coffee you have, you don't notice.

through a strange coincidence, you find it sitting pretty on the top-most shelf of the pantry. you frown, wondering if you'd placed it there by mistake.

belphegor is about to open his mouth to speak again when he sees you reach upwards, fingers brushing across the jar mere centimeters out of your grasp. you're on your toes, leaning forward, barely balancing as you try your hardest to take it.

the man remains silent, watching you with a detached type of curiosity.

darn shelves, you think, as you stretch as far as you're physically able. still, the glass slips from between your fingers and you resort to stepping on a sack of flour. right as you grab it, the corner of the sack slides out from underneath your foot and you gasp, knowing all too well how this was going to end.

but there's a hand on your shoulder and a solid chest against your back, and a pleasant voice in your ear that suggests otherwise.

"so much trouble for a coffee."

his breath tickles the nape of your neck and you twist around to thank him, unprepared for the amused expression painting his face. from here, you can see every freckle, every eyelash, and every stray hair left untamed by his cap.

"you okay?", he asks, too close and quiet. too intimate that you forget yourself for a second.

"i'm...i'm fine."

those furrowed brows of his make you think twice and you place a hand to his chest, marveling in its warmth. you can feel his heart beat. it's steady, unfazed by whatever silly accident had happened just now.

"thanks", you mutter, swiftly removing yourself from his arms (firm and inviting). "i'll uhh...i'll make your iced americano, shall i?"

he doesn't say anything as you take a spoon and measure out the ground powder. and the silence lingers as you bring a pot of water to the boil. your thoughts, however, are that much louder, that much more pronounced. you were never one to invite strangers into your home. why was he such an exception?

"you can stop staring."

belphegor chuckles and you hate the fact that you can't ignore it. his laughter, it twinkles, and it has you looking at him all over again.

"i was keeping an eye out for you. in case you decide to make a habit of falling while i'm here."

you scoff, opening the fridge door to remove the ice tray. six cubes blink up at you and you ease three out, popping them into his mug in rapid succession. it's a tad violent and some of the coffee sloshes out onto the counter.

"thank you for your concern. but it's really not necessary."

he walks towards you, and you remain fixed on his bowtie, hoping to avoid being trapped by his alluring purple irises.

"if you say so."

and he takes a sip. and you find a cloth to wipe the spilt coffee with.

"it tastes good", he says. "maybe i should ask you to make me one every morning."

"tough luck", you reply, glancing at him as you clean. "i'm afraid this is the last of my hospitality."

besides, you didn't have it in you to continue acting an utter fool around him. something about his self-assuredness serves as the antithesis to your nervous energy, fueling it further to the point that you're doubtful about whether he'll return tomorrow.

"is that any way to talk to your knight in shining armor?"

oh. nevermind. that question makes you want to slap the handsome smirk off his face.

you give one last swipe of the counter, as if to stand your ground, and straighten up. yet it only leads to disaster.

the lonesome bottle of milk that you'd put atop it, comes crashing down onto the tiles, spraying its contents along every surface and scattering glass shards in its wake. the knot in your stomach tightens and you refuse to acknowledge the man who hasn't budged an inch.

he clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

"what am i going to do with you?"

as you stoop down to gather the glass, he mirrors you.

"i can-"

"it'll be faster with the two of us."

apparently, it's your turn to watch him. you slow your movements as you focus on his hands, how meticulously they pick up each broken shard and how conflicted you feel about him doing as such. in your daze, the edge of a particularly sharp fragment digs into your thumb and you flinch.

"fuck-"

he reacts before you do, tossing the glass he's holding into the bin and taking your hand in his to help you remove the fragment.

"this might sting", he mutters. that was the last thing on your mind. did this man have no sense of personal space?

the fragment is tossed out with the rest of what used to be the bottle and you're about to reluctantly thank him for a second time until he's bringing your thumb up to his mouth.

"wh- what are you doing?"

he suckles gently on the cut, putting a stop to the bleeding, and you're rendered speechless. when he speaks, all you can think about is his lips.

"can't you be more careful?"

"not with you here, no", you say, finally admitting to the reality that was beginning to suffocate you. you can't pay attention to anything other than him.

"figured it out, have you?"

"figured what out...?", you ask, leaning in as his voice drops to a whisper.

"you have a crush on me."

you stare, perplexed, and you tear your eyes away from his mouth to look at him. there's a secret lingering in his facade. of words unspoken and confessions kept hidden. what does he know?

"prove it", you mumble, perfectly aware of how ridiculous a demand that was.

except he obliges, closing the gap between the both of you and meeting your lips with his own. they're soft and as you snake your hands around his neck, his cap comes loose, falling to join the mess on the floor.

neither of you care to address it and he pulls you back up, hugging you to his front and wrapping his arms around you. it's intoxicating. bitterness lingers on his tongue and there's the faint taste of cigarettes. but you're kissing him like someone starved. or perhaps someone parched.

sparks fly beneath your eyelids and rouge caresses your cheeks. (or was it the ghost of his palm against them?)

there's a need, an intensity to the way he grips you and the way clenches his jaw when you tug at his hair. you match him blow for blow, digging your nails into his shoulder and moaning softly into the kiss.

when you part and rest your forehead against his, you're not the only one who's out of breath.

"belphie", you whisper and the look on his face is a mystery in itself – surprise and longing, haphazardly hidden behind a mask of indifference.

"thank god i brought another five bottles with me, huh?"

#yeah move along it's another belphie piece shut up #obey me au #obey me writing #obey me fluff #obey me belphegor #obey me! belphegor #belphegor x reader #belphegor x gn reader #my writing 🐇

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theyearsiturnedintoaghost · 3 years ago

Text

“But I Wanna Know One Thing When Did I Become a Ghost?”

Sometimes I try to pinpoint the exact day I became a ghost. I go over days and nights and try to decipher if it happened pre or post certain parts of my life. Was it before I finished college? Maybe earlier, maybe the day my parents finally split? Maybe it was the day I realized a boy I loved in my twenties was never going to love me back, and I just needed to focus on myself while life kept unfolding? Was it somewhere in the move across the country to finish college, and try to do something for myself that might better me, that my actual self flew out the window somewhere in Texas, or some other dusty road, and the entire years following were just my ghost years? Or maybe it wasn’t until after I let myself fall so far away from what I remembered myself to be, or what I stood for, or dreams I had, that I shrunk into myself so small and became a walking shell of who I used to be. Maybe it was the day I stood next to someone else at a bar, a different one than the bar I’d left that earlier unrequited love behind at, and thought for the first time in so long ‘is this person perfect?’ while I was introduced to him, and instead of being cool or sweet, or like someone a person would want to talk to - I blabbered on about some snowboarders who had a TV show that this person had never heard of, and I realized in the walking away from that person as a blush rose to my cheeks and my hands shook just enough to let me know that deep down I wanted to cry from my anxiety, that I was just too fucking weird for people, and not just that person, but maybe all people. These same type of ‘outer body’ or anxiety induced conversations and moments just kept happening over and over so I started focus in and realize I was the common denominator and that I must be the cause to my inability to relate to people or not be so fucking weird that I could practically feel their eyes rolling at me while I spoke to them. Clearly, I didn’t become a ghost because of any of these specific moments, but probably due to all of these moments all swirled together with so many others, and also due to my brain makeup and what I imagine is some missed diagnosis from childhood that today would for sure have me on the spectrum. Which, for the record, I’m completely okay with being on. Actually sometimes I think it would give me some kind of ease that maybe I’m not as ‘crazy’ or ‘out there’ as I’ve compared myself to be when I look at other peoples lives of my age. There’s no shame in thinking differently and having to work out how you do think so other people who don’t think the same can sort of understand. So please don’t take that as a cruel joke, or something to be angry at. It’s just me recognizing that people can be different, and sometimes they don’t know the reason for it because they were never seen properly.

So, I’m not exactly sure of the day I became a ghost - fuck, maybe it wasn’t one of those moments or days specifically, but a lot of days, weeks, or months; full of falling further from who I’d been at seventeen, even twenty-one, or twenty-three, or who I even thought I would be by thirty, that made me disappear from myself one day and just become this person who just existed in the world day to day, but wasn’t actually living. I ate sometimes when I wasn’t trying to disappear fully so clothes would fit me better or boys might think I was beautiful, I laughed when I was supposed to, went on dates like I was trying, got up and went to work like I was supposed to, read a book here and there, binged watched TV shows to have conversations and social interactions with people like normal people do, and tried to convince myself that this was what living was, I guess. Between all of these day to day things and smoking myself to sleep, crushing up pills in private places and snorting them through straws, or dabbling - to put it lightly and politically correct - into cocaine, just to pass the time and make myself feel anything most of the time, I guess vanishing became easy.

Becoming a ghost was easier.

It’s just not exactly clear to me to be able to figure out the exact date and time I fully realized I’d become a ghost. It’s not as easy as like providing an alibi for myself for one specific night, and not because my brain was so hazy and filled with anger, sadness, and drug fueled smoke and pills for most, but not all - and not all at the same time - of the years between twenty to nearly thirty, that I cannot fully recall the moment I fully realized I wasn’t who I remembered myself wanting to be, but really because I think it happened slowly at first, somewhere in between being lonely, living in a place that I kind of had a hard time fitting into, not in terms of the weather or nature, but in making a friend or two or feeling like I wasn’t so... annoying-to-people-based-on-reality-shows New Jersey in a non-New Jersey place, and even if maybe it didn’t fully seem that way to other people, trying to finish school and not feel so old being basically a junior at like twenty-three when every other person I knew had already graduated and was moving to the next levels of their lives - whatever those were - while I was working as many hours as I could to just pay the rent, trying to make a friend in any place - which is really hard for me if I’m being honest. To cut it down to brass tax, I think I’m socially awkward and full of so much anxiety that I either shy away and appear unapproachable, or I let people in too quickly and my heart gets broken by them when I realize I probably care too much for them than they do for me.

I think I’m just afraid of disappointing people. So instead I just disappoint myself.

I let people leave me because it’s easier. Why make them stay when they don’t want to? Why hope they’ll call first when they won’t? Why hope they’ll love me back the way I would have loved them?

It’s easier to let them go on and be happy and just... disappear.

It’s why I think I let myself slowly start to slip away from who I had been my whole life. Some girl who was hoping for the ‘happy ending’ the ‘good things to come,’ as embarrassing as those things can sound for a person to imagine, the successful life that I sadly felt I would achieve with the promises of getting an education and working hard, but instead was just always left outside of the winners circle. Not that anyone wins in any of this, but you know what I mean. The truth is, in life - from what I’ve come to understand - there are just people who lose less often than other people. I just got tired of losing, and feeling like I was losing all the time. I got tired of making it to my twenties and feeling like I was never going to be the girl who would ever become anything or the one that anyone ever actually wanted back. Sure, I had ‘romantic entanglements,’ if you could call them that, crushes, and drunken kisses, but nothing that it felt like everyone else was so easily able to get. Boyfriends, flowers on a date night, fucking date nights in general, a birthday party thrown for them; not one they had to put together themselves and hope at least five people would come. The things one may think matters, but don’t - not in the grand scheme of anything that actually does really matter to the world - but these things still add up as years go by, and as I kept getting older and older and it felt like everyone I knew had this laundry list of relationships and ex’s and I was just kind of aware of how... no one has ever asked me out properly on a date or reached over to hold my hand in a crowded room. Or knew the thing I wanted to laugh about in public without me even have to say it. Those stupid wishful, movie, dream life, fantasy land bullshit things that everyone tells you aren’t real outside of movies, but I just didn’t fully believe because I’d seen my own friends make eye contact with someone they loved across a room and I’d seen that feeling occur in real time. Maybe it wasn’t in a movie script ending kind of way, but it still happened. Small and simple, but it still did happen, and it was probably more beautiful than Hollywood could even fathom or conjure up.

And once I started to kind of realize that this kept occurring to people around me all of the time I just started to think that I was invisible. And soon after I came to realize I was.

And it isn’t just the relationships that make you feel invisible, it’s the other things everyone around me seemed to be doing or achieving that makes me feel sort of ‘less than.’ People getting - what seems like to a twenty-something - a big fancy office job out of college, or buying a house, travelling with a group of friends multiple times a year. Fuck, even just having a group of friends, that was actually amazing to me after like twenty-one. I could honestly walk through a store, or down a street and I’m not sure one person may have even noticed if I was there - or if I wasn’t. Even if I did daily routine items like where I bought my coffee or the days I shopped at a grocery store, or when I went for walks or not, I’m not sure if people would notice when I didn’t, or if I ever even did. Even when I was working in the office I got fired from, and commuting day to day, I’m not sure any one on that bus would be able to pick me out a line up even if I took the same 6:50 everyday. Hell, I’m not sure people who I worked with and spoke to would even notice if I wasn’t there. And when I would wash my hands in the bathroom and the automated sensor wouldn’t even recognize me, I really started to wonder if I wasn’t actually a ghost after all.

And day in and day out, month in and month out, year in and year out, all of it just started to add up. All the good things that were happening for everyone else - which was something I truly was happy for, despite how fake that sounds typing, like I’m trying to make myself sound like a decent human in hopes someone won’t just think I’m being whiny or jealous, I really was happy for them because I think a person - even some of the worst ones - does really want the people they know and care about to be happy; even if that happiness is seemingly impossible to hold for themselves. Regardless, deep in my heart I know that I was happy for them getting all of their desires, I was just sad I wasn’t getting my own ‘good things,’ or desires. And I felt like I had nothing to talk with people about. Like when I came to their table I was just... the person they knew who wasn’t progressing on any kind of timeline; even my own.

I started to feel ashamed about it. Embarrassed and stuttery about any kind of topic any one might speak to me about. So I sort of just stopped going to people’s tables. I didn’t want to see them look at me out of the corner of their eyes with pity as the thirty-something year old who had no direction, no love life, no career type job, and had not created or accomplished anything; at all.

And in the meantime, in trying not to fail, or having something to speak about that I felt I’d done a good job on or created, It felt like any kind of outlet that I tried to create to promote my own dreams or wishes just kept never hitting the mark. Trying to make a clothing line? Fail. Like even having one of these Tumblr’s years ago for my writing, anything I actually did write was pointless; or at least felt that way. Any story I’d completed, I wished were different or more original. I just kept feeling like other people had done the ‘path’ correct and they were all getting their foot in the door at the right times, and I was just... behind. My lack of being able to commit to a major at school, or even get an office job or internship doing something basic and day to day just didn’t appeal to me. Not in a way that made me excited for the next thirty years of my life, especially because that’s what I always thought being an adult was. Finding a place to work that allowed you to build a career, and just getting through that until you were able to retire.

I guess I didn’t really think much about the joy in any of it, or what adulthood really held for me that didn’t seem so mundane and boring. Like just something you had to do and there was nothing super exciting about it. By the time I made it to like twenty I kind of realized dreams I’d had since I was younger were already out of question. I was clearly never going to be that Olympic Gymnastic’s Champion I thought I would at eight - which even as I type this I want to laugh at how farfetched that dream even feels to remember - and the odds of me becoming Georgia O’Keefe, who I dressed up as for a 4th grade biography day - felt impossible, especially since my desire to possibly go to art school after college were kind of laughed off by my family because what are the odds people make any money out of art school? Plus, she mastered flowers, it’s hard to compete with the beauty of that. And I was clearly never going to be some teen idol movie star or popstar princess. Which was also very far off dreams that I guess I recall having around 14. But I was like twenty-something now, and I’d heard myself sing, it is not good, even just speaking I have a voice most people wish they could unhear, and the most acting I’ve ever done is pretending I was just fine for most of my entire life. Even though I could feel the sadness deep in my chest and gut that felt so heavy and dark I was afraid of even admitting it was there in fear of what other people might think about me, hell, what I might think of myself.

That’s the thing I’ve learned the most about trying to pinpoint when I became a ghost, I think I always was in some way, I was just never honest with myself about feeling that way. Not until I got much older and everything got out of control, that is. It’s why I’ve always felt more comfortable in my own space and house. Where I have confidence in myself and my own little secret hiding spots for where I keep the sadness or fears of inadequacy. It’s easier to be me behind closed doors and in the stillness of my bedroom or solitude of my basement. I can be me in places where everyone isn’t watching, or it doesn’t feel like they are. Where I can’t hear them laugh about me as they pass around a group chat or some other joke I’m not privy to. Where they aren’t looking at my messy bun and unfashionable clothing and the smattering of pimples on my chin, or sad eyes and splatting of goofy childish freckles. I don’t feel so odd when I’m alone. It’s when I’m actually around people - especially people who I don’t know, or who have job titles much more important sounding than my name, or people who have travelled all over, or created something beautiful that they are proud of - that I notice how inadequate I feel in their shadows. That any small useless fact that I might know, or place I’ve travelled, and job I’ve held, feels unimportant or less.

I am also aware that a lot of these feelings are just that, feelings, and not actual facts. That these people are probably not actually feeling these things about me, but that’s the way my anxiety and depression feels. It keeps me in the basement of my own heart and mind because it feels safer. Like assuming all of these people already think those things about me will hurt less when I find out they actually do.

And that’s the part that also hurts - a lot - is when you do find out that those people feel and think those things about you. Sometimes you only find out because someone tells you, and sometimes you have to hear them making fun of you behind your back to realize it. But it hurts all the same.

And it hurt the most when I was actually actively trying to reorganize my life and try to pull myself up out of my own depression and self induced spiral, and was honestly trying; going to therapy weekly, removing myself from bad places, narrowing down my circle of people, and mostly cocooning myself from the rest of the world outside of throwing myself into a desk job and reading books on my commute to and from said job. I stopped using social media, stopped talking to a lot of people, stopped doing a lot of anything.

And still I was a joke to people. Turns out, the people I worked with were just... making fun of me without me knowing. I was trying my best to find a footing and ‘build a career at a company’ or whatever the fuck that really means, and they were just laughing at how uncool I was, or terribly dressed, or the annoying voice I posses. I mean, I understand why they didn’t like me - most of the time prior I barely liked me - but it just sucked to know that even when you were trying to be an okay human, one that wasn’t fucked up all of the time and actively working on yourself two mornings a week where I cried so often about how much everyone hated me and how much of a fuck up I was, hurt so much worse than all the times when I was a teenager and felt like I didn’t fit in. When the mean girl in our neighborhood would invite all the other kids out to play manhunt, but wouldn’t include me. Or the girls in middle school wouldn’t include me because I wasn’t an A-Team soccer player or whatever other bullshit made me weird to them.

Because now I was an adult, who knew she was a ghost for so long, and when I was finally started allowing myself to be seen in any formation - people laughed. It made me wish I’d stayed hidden in my night shift jobs, basement hideouts, and in the comfort of the naps I took that were basically second nights of sleep, just with daylight shining on outside. It felt worse to realize not staying a ghost allowed people to see me, and even then they didn’t like me.

So I became a ghost, again. I cut off more people, stopped responding to others, asked some of them to stop reaching out to me, and just existed alone. I cried - a lot. In fields with my dog, who then was still a live, in parked cars outside of a job I hated, in the bathroom of that same job when I was constantly messing up and being allowed to have no responsibility, privacy, or final word on anything I did, I also cried in my bed, silently, almost every night as I stared at the ceiling fan spinning above my head and tried to transport myself to another place and time where it hurt less, I felt more secure, and maybe someone, or something, loved me back. But most of the time when I cried it was for the life I thought I was going to have, the one I realized I was mourning even though I never lived it, and crying for the other part of the person I let myself become which was a person that people at these companies, and ‘friends’ I knew in some parts of my life was a good reason for them to laugh at.

I cried a lot because I was never able to be someone, but what I think I was really crying for - and still do sometimes - is that I forget when I stopped wanting to be me.

Even the me that people in offices don’t like, or girls in middle school don’t understand. Sometimes I cried because I wished I could like that person more because at least than I’d feel like me. It’s hard to come to terms with that, hard to realize that I’m okay with not being liked by people, but it gets lonely realizing that having people in your life means all they want is for you to change. For you to fit the mold that they are okay with you being or who they would be comfortable bringing around their other friends. Someone who doesn’t laugh at the most inappropriate stuff, or snores in their sleep, or cries at commercials, whose car isn’t a mess, doesn’t hate folding laundry, knows when to call it a night at a bar one drink earlier than I do, or has a clear direction in their life and a slew of opportunities waiting for them at every corner with so many points of contact to makes those opportunities reality. Things for them to talk about at dinner parties or weddings as someone's date.

Things that people who aren’t ghosts know how to do naturally and effortlessly.

So I guess the real answer is, no, I don’t know when I actually became a ghost, if it was my whole life, or one morning when I woke up and just thought, ‘none of this is fun anymore,’ none of the getting high, or buzzed, or pretending I’m okay, or doing jobs that don’t make me happy, or never feeling the love of another human in the full ways that I wished I could, but instead tried to ignore and pretend I didn’t desire or want in my life. I’m not really sure when it all happened, I just know that I remember it all happening; slowly in random bouts of progression and over so many minutes of a life I kind of feel I’ve wasted to some extent, and hell, I’m unsure if I’ve ever really stopped fully wanting to be one. Sometimes it just feels easier to move through places and moments alone because it hurts less, somehow. Like it’s easier for everyone else if I just never get too attached to anything in fear that I’ll hurt them, or worse, they’ll break me, again. And I’m really tired of being broken by things that I may have thought were for me, but ended up not being.

And then there are the random moments where I peak out into the world around me, fully noticed by someone - in a normal everyday running of an errand kind of way - and walk away from a conversation or an event and feel a slight bit of content in my heart that I think maybe it really doesn’t hurt worse than never actually feeling anything fully. It’s an odd catch 22. Wanting to be seen, and being fearful of being seen in fear, on both ends, that you’ll end up broken somehow.

I’m unsure what any of it fully means, I guess for anyone. Do other people feel that way? Is it just a whole group of us who exist out there and feel - lost? Or scared? Or afraid to be who they actually are in fear that the life they lead now will no longer suit them or make them actually happy? And I know that this must be something people struggle with in terms of sexual orientation, but in a way, even as someone who does not struggle with that and knows I am into a certain sex, I still understand it in the sense that faking who I am feels wrong. It feels like selling out. Like I’m only living to appease other people, and I wish more times that other people were willing to live to accept other people for who they were; faults and all. Even in this cancel culture world, not everyone is good, and not everyone is bad; people can be so many things, it’s the idealization to put a label on everything that makes things harder I think. We aren’t ingredients in a candy bar for consumption, we’re people - ghosts and all - but we are all allowed to be phases of ourselves sometimes. Sometimes, you have to become what you’re not all of the time to maybe even fully realize who you are, or want to be, most of the time.

Unsure if any of that makes sense, but I think I’ll have to break it down even further. Maybe next time. In another post, where I don’t ramble on forever and come to no conclusion. This thesis would fail if I had to hand it in for a grade.

Unless of course it was a scientific experiment hypothesis; and maybe that’s all life really is - one giant cosmic experiment where the rules will forever change and the points don’t really matter. Some giant game of Whose Line is it Anyway?

From one ghost behind a computer to another reading, goodnight.

xoxo

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mysticalmusicwhispers · 3 years ago

Text

#i wonder what your thoughts on diaspora in hetalia are#cause its a pretty interesting topic (the post in question)

@urmomsstuntdouble a collection of things that I think about on a semi-regular basis below the cut (also thank you for the tags!)

Disclaimer: I think this turned into more of a discussion of immigration and immigrants, but I hope this strikes your fancy anyways 😅. Also this got SO LONG and I explained quite a bit of history (because idk whether anyone knows much about this), so the key thoughts will be bolded!

My thoughts are kinda complicated about this tbh; it’s weird, because if China really did exist as a personification in real life, we’d probably both be judging each other, just for different reasons 😅.

General Hetalia Cases

I think when discussing immigrants/diaspora, you have to think about why different immigrants left. @cupofkey kinda discussed that a while ago (if anyone hasn’t seen this superb post, GO READ IT NOW) about the Vietnamese diaspora, and I think there’s some of that in every country. How do the immigrants feel about the home country? Why did they leave: because of hard times, poverty? Political instability/revolution/war? Opportunities overseas? Are they doing well in their new home, or still struggling? Does their new country treat them like foreigners or outcasts, unworthy of even arriving, or doing anything besides menial labor, or have they been welcomed (rather unlikely)? Do they hate their home country (politically), or miss them? Would they ever go back, not just to visit family or the place of their birth, but to return permanently?

I think on the whole, hetalia nations would still maintain a connection to their immigrants, especially since most are still in touch with their culture, although they’ve crossed borders or changed nationalities. (However, the angst of not being as in touch with your culture as you think you should is so real; would our home countries be disappointed? Or do they sympathize, somehow?) In the end, we’re all the same that way. Plus, the alternative thought of them just disowning immigrants feels weird; I don’t even know how that would be possible. But I think that connection gets complicated by the reason people left, and their feelings for their place of origin; I’ll be using APH China and Chinese Americans as an example to discuss this hksdgsdf (sorry I don’t want to do more research than necessary and I have Thoughts about this)

**OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER that immigration/diaspora discussions are almost always case by case and will vary greatly based on things like country of origin/race/ethnicity, country immigrated to, initial socioeconomic status, time period, etc. And even among diaspora, people can and will have vastly different experiences, and it’s not good to generalize. These are just some thoughts with one example.**

1. Waves of Immigration

Depending on when people arrive, they’ve got different push/pull factors drawing them to a country and it also factors into how the nation feels about them and vice versa... Chinese immigration to the US has mostly two major waves (you could also say there were 3, counting the post-WWII/Communist China wave, but I won’t talk about that): one in the mid 1800s and the other after the 1970s/1980s into modern day; the gap is because the Chinese Exclusion Act (1882) that banned most immigration from China wasn’t repealed until 1943 (because of Japan’s attack on the US in WWII, the US needed China as an ally).

IMMIGRATION WAVE 1: MID 1800s

These immigrants were mostly from southern China (Canton area), and they came to the US because of hard times (Opium Wars + political instability because of things like the Taiping Rebellion) and economic opportunity in the West (eg. Gold Rush (San Francisco is literally “Old Gold Mountain” in Chinese today) + industrialization, railroads, expansion etc.). There was Much Discrimination against those immigrants, and many worked as hard laborers in a variety of occupations (on railroads, gold mine, farms (in the South esp), laundry businesses; there were merchants as well, but they were the minority); many were looking to get some money that they could send back to their families in China and planned to return, but over time, they settled down and stayed. I think for those immigrants, Yao would definitely be understanding, even if he might not be empathetic. After all, he’s not thriving at that time either, and although he thinks Alfred is inferior to him (in many ways), he understands why people would be drawn by economic promise and quick wealth, even if it might not be the best strategy for getting rich. It’s not like staying in China would be better lmao. However, I don’t think he would approve (?) how many of his immigrants stayed in the US when most viewed it as a temporary move; I think Yao is very surprised by how so many of them persisted to carve out a home there, despite the discrimination and limited opportunities. Perhaps he admires their resilience, the creation of Chinatowns and community and how they still come to a country that doesn’t even let them in (see the San Francisco Fire of 1906 and the boon for paper sons), but still wishes they would come back, however unlikely that hope is. Personally, Yao would never be able to stay in Alfred’s country, the beautiful country, if Alfred’s hypocrisy prevented his experience, his immigrant’s experience, from being anything close to beautiful. (You were founded by immigrants and foreigners, but now you spurn them: the poor sojourners who continue to flee to your shores, and refuse them respite from the disasters at home.) And anyways, Alfred is just the next scrappy young upstart, barely 70 years old but with a swagger like he rules the world; how could he have something over himself, the Middle Kingdom, who has stood the test of time? (Admittedly, he’s doing nowhere as well as Alfred—even he can see that, despite his pride, and despite the haze of opium in his brain. Leaving is the logical, objectively sound choice. Still, his pride hurts vaguely when he thinks how his immigrants keep choosing a country that keeps rejecting them, over and over again, instead of himself. But it is no matter. The injury to his ego is inconsequential and easily brushed aside; for they are still his people, and they deserve a good life, wherever they are. His distaste for Alfred flares up again: Arthur’s bastard child, who takes advantage of his trade (see the Open Door Notes, 1899-1900), but refuses his people.)

if anyone wants more context or is interested in the history I mentioned, I highly recommend this pdf (from the book A Different Mirror: A History of Multicultural America by Ronald Takaki)

IMMIGRATION FROM 1949 TO 1980: according to Wikipedia, there was very little immigration from mainland China during this period due to the Cold War and China becoming Communist; most of the immigration was from Taiwan/ROC but counted in the quota for China. Since there’s a separate Hetalia personification for TWN, I’m not going to go over that. However, there were also many people from Mainland China who escaped to Hong Kong, still a British colony, during that period (I hope it’s clear why, but if anyone asks I’ll put it in a separate post); some stayed there, while others emigrated to the US; both trips were for more freedoms and a better life etc because China was really really messed up for a bit (also keep in mind the people emigrating all had the means to and were at least middle class, usually somewhat educated, etc.). I will not be talking about that group either because I don’t think it’s my place to, but please know they exist as well.

IMMIGRANT WAVE 2: 1980s ONWARD

A lot of people came from mainland China for education; there was also an. exodus of intellectuals following 1989 (which I Will Not get into). Many of these people sought job opportunities, like those that rapidly opened up in the computer industry, there are many students who come here to study abroad, who take SATs and TOEFLs to get into good US colleges or to conduct graduate research and get PhDs; some stay, others have gone back to like, advance China’s development (this sentiment of getting good students to go abroad and then go back to China to use their talents for Patriotic Purposes isn’t a new thing, stretches back to like the late 1800s). I don’t really have much to say about this group besides what’s below ↓.

2. Immigrant Thoughts On Their Home Country

more complicated, because it varies by generation and time period and probably 203943 other things. Mainlanders that came over starting in the 1990s till now have relatively positive feelings towards China (imo, extrapolating from my life experiences); I think part of that is also because most* of these immigrants aren’t really escaping from something? They’re coming for an education/job opportunities (students studying abroad in the US (留学生 or liuxuesheng) for graduate school or university come to mind as one example), and they’re still very much connected to China politically and culturally, sometimes* more so than to the US. For these immigrants, I think Yao doesn’t worry too much about them? They’re pretty successful* overall*, and discrimination, although still A Large Problem™, isn’t the same from stuff that Yao (or his immigrants) remember from, say the mid 1800s (see above), or even during the paranoia about Communists after WWII and the subsequent Chinese Confession Program that made many people really scared of being deported. (Red China made Chinese Americans a target of the Communist panic, and the confession program was instated in order to make sure Communist spies couldn’t infiltrate the US. Those who immigrated illegally could confess that and gain citizenship; however you also had to weed out everyone you knew who also immigrated illegally.) I think Yao would see them as an extension of himself in a different land; they’re very much still part of him, and he gives them his well wishes.

However, I think that immigrants born in the US in modern day at least (1990s onwards) are definitely more ambivalent about China’s legacy + modern day Issues™, as much as we are connected via culture and heritage. Not quite sure how Yao would feel about that, because I’m not quite sure how much Yao is the state and how much he represents the people. However, I think there would be some mutual unease; does he see this as betrayal of some kind? Perhaps he doesn’t blame us for feeling as we do? Maybe he wonders what we feel about him; maybe he doesn’t want to know. Maybe he chooses the easier route: to focus on the bonds between him and his huayi instead of the grievances, and leave the rest unsaid.

Additionally with first gen immigrants, there’s the conflicting feeling of being stuck between two worlds and value systems that oppose each other in many respects. Also there’s sometimes a feeling of not-quite-being-in-touch-with-your-culture (in other diaspora as well, ofc. here it’s often exemplified by forgetting or not knowing how to read and write Chinese proficiently, among other things 🙃); idk. does Yao see that as a bit of a disappointment? Would he wish us to try harder? Does he view it as inevitable, for those raised in the US; the environment is too different, and perhaps he won’t blame us for those differences, or shortcomings. Does Yao know, or care, about the racism? What about his immigrants who try to assimilate completely into American culture, who try to erase the Chinese part of their identity? Those that have tried it, but regretted it? Are they still his, when they have tried rejecting their connection to him, choosing to drop the “Chinese” from Chinese American? Does he consider racism when thinking about them? What about international adoptees? Does he claim them, when some have not been raised in a culturally Chinese environment, and when it’s still a sensitive subject on both sides of the ocean? I don’t have answers to many of these questions.

There are also immigrants who fled China because of war or persecution or upheaval, (one example is with regards to the Cultural Revolution), but I don’t feel qualified to discuss it here, and I don’t want to take it lightly.

But, despite everything I’ve discussed above, I’d like to think that however an immigrant feels about their home country or however long they’ve been there, all nation personifications would still wish them a better life (even Yao). I mean, it’s not always easy being an immigrant/part of a diaspora (especially when race becomes a factor). I really don’t think any of the hetalia characters would say “look at your struggles. What a mistake it was to immigrate somewhere where you still face so many challenges, although they might be different from the ones back home”. that’s just No. Also, I think that when you disregard sentimentality and their inherent connection to the people, countries would still be able to sympathize with people trying to strive for better, you know? People immigrate for a better life, whether it’s because it was getting rough when they left or because other places had more potential, and like. although nation-people can’t leave their own country, I think they understand the people who do, because it’s a chance to make a new life, and it would be unkind, counterproductive, limiting, to prevent someone from taking that opportunity if it came. And their children, and grandchildren; they are still connected to their origins even in a new country, by blood if nothing else, and nations are people too; they must have some sentimentality for their people born in a different land. I’d like to think that if Yao met a Chinese American kid running around San Francisco’s Chinatown, or bumped into an ABC high schooler in a well to do Massachusetts suburb, he’d stop and nod and maybe say hello, and wish them luck, wherever they go in the future. After all, they are the products of his immigrant’s hopes and dreams, and they are his too, as much as they live in Alfred’s land.

* (asterisks): this is a) from my experience and research; not everyone will have the same experiences! please keep this in mind and don’t generalize a very vast group of people. :)

Idk if that was too sentimental or rambly or something, but yeah, those are some of the things I consider when I think about nations and their diasporas. If you made it down here, thanks for reading! I greatly appreciate it. Also I hope I got all my facts correct, but if anyone spots anything incorrect, especially regarding the post 1980s immigration wave, please tell me! Tried doing my research but there are still a few things I’m unsure about rip.

This might be deleted tomorrow because I’m feeling weird about it, but feel free to reblog! I’d also very much love some feedback too if any of y’all are feeling up to it

#i was thinking about a lot of this when writing the zine fic so this post is partially an extension of that #hws china #aph china #musings #hetalia #nation lore #hws #aph #aph china headcanons #hetalia worldbuilding #headcanon musings #hetalia headcanons #I GUESS??

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fractallogic · 3 years ago

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Okay. To not go to bed extremely depressed tonight, we need to write some things down

Comfort food TV shows are on Netflix

All of my work can be done online. Which is why skipping the first week of the quarter was going to be fine anyways.

Scone is staying with me and, while he doesn’t speak French, many people here speak English, and he is also much more accustomed than I am to not speaking the native language of the person he’s speaking to

You do need to eat, actually. Please eat something when scone gets back from the store. I guarantee you’ll feel better.

You already feel better than you did on the 4th, which might as well be the first day of symptoms for isolation purposes. You have another six days to test negative again. The way this is progressing, I think it’s reasonable to think that you’ll feel better on Monday. Like totally. That will also give you enough time, if needed, to not only get at least one more Covid test, but also find a doctor to certify you as recovered since things will probably (hopefully) not take a turn, and you can go home in a week. You also don’t have a fever, which is EVEN BETTER.

It cost $25.60 to change the flight because of a difference in fare, which is still fucked up, but better than it could have been (and you remembered to say something like “um I paid for seat upgrades on the reservation can you comp similar upgrades” to the person and it was successful, which is great)

Artemis loves the neighbor, the neighbor loves Artemis, the neighbor can keep watching her for another week, and is a competent cat owner who will not let her die before you get home

You have enough medications to last you another week. You have enough craft projects to last you another week even if you craft night and day for the next week. Yes, you’re about to run out of toothpaste, but you can either use scone’s or get some more from the pharmacy literally a hundred feet away.

Both your psych appointment and the research meeting on Wednesday are in decent enough timezones that you don’t need to change them, and the supervisor meeting on Thursday can get changed around because you responsibly told her as soon as you knew.

Because of the way you overpacked, you have enough clean clothes for a couple days until you can get scone to do some laundry, and he also already wanted to do some laundry today before all of this BULLSHIT fucked up our day. So.

Everything, i swear, will be fine. Annoying, yes. But fine.

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agustdef · 4 years ago

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Pairing: Johnny Suh x Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre: Angst; Fluff; Friends to Lovers; Coworkers to Lovers

Word Count: 16.1K

Warning: Language; Past Infidelity (not by anyone in the pairing); Mild mention of not great mental health; Implied Smut at the end.

Rating: PG15

My Weird and Mildly Chaotic Banner Maker: @dee-ehn

My Lovely Dweeb Beta Reader: @guktro

A/N: This fic was crafted for the DramaVers collab hosted by the ever so lovely (never tell her I called her that) @namluve. My fic is based off the K-Drama/Web Drama, XX, which you can watch here if you feel so inclined. Would recommend. (Psst... it’s only 5 episodes all under an hour long.)

Summary: When you work your whole life to reach your dreams of owning a bar you hope that having that dream ripped from under you without notice isn’t a part of life’s plan. And you definitely don’t imagine that it comes with suddenly being business partners with your ex-best friend. But life doesn’t work in the way we want it. At the end of the day you try to focus on the things that make life better, until the two men in your life who hold your heart (something you didn’t think possible) meet and hit if off so well that you’re sure your life is moments from collapsing completely.

The entire time Hyuk spoke YN sat there feeling like she couldn’t process his words. She heard all of it and took it in, but she was stuck on what he’d said when she’d walked into their bar to do inventory on the one day they were closed. Hyuk wasn’t supposed to be there, so it shocked her to see him pacing about but then he blurted something out and she’d never had the chance to exit her shocked state.

“YN, did you hear me?” he asked.

She wasn’t completely pulled from the surreal feeling she experienced, but enough of her became present enough to look at him and nod. Of course, she wanted to retreat into thoughts that said it was all a dream when she saw the pity in his eyes.

“I really am sorry, YN. I had to sell it and I know I said I’d give you a heads up if I ever wanted or needed to give my share up, but it couldn’t be helped. It was the only way to get my father to give into appointing me a position on his board before he found someone else. But I found someone who's done well with other bars and she’s just trying to expand her portfolio, so I’m sure she’ll sell you her half when all is said and done,” Hyuk reassured.

None of his words helped her feel good about it though, if anything she felt worse after hearing him. It became more real as he explained things to her for the third time that night. Her dream of the bar being hers had been so close, she’d almost had all the money to buy him out and it all came crashing down.

To think her phone calendar had a day three months in the future as the day she’d succeed. For a moment all she could think about was deleting it, so instead of responding she pulled out her phone and did just that.

“What are you-” he started, until he noticed what she did.

“YN, I-”

Her standing abruptly was what cut him off the next time; plus startled him to the point where he almost slid from his bar stool. His klutzy actions usually brought her some joy no matter how brief, but nothing in her could muster up any positive emotions.

After she took a deep breath she stared at him with a neutral expression and spoke. “You can put everything I need to know in the office for me to check in the morning. Anything else can be sent to me via email. That includes the new co-owners contact information so that I can set up a meeting with them so we can discuss things. If I need something you didn’t give I will contact you. I hope everything works out just the way you want it, Hyuk. I’m leaving now, lock up behind yourself and mail me the keys.”

With that she turned on her heel and walked out of the door, she needed to put some distance between her and him. As well as her and the bar. Not even Hyuk calling out for her stopped her from leaving, nothing he had to say was something she needed to hear. At least not while her world crumbled before her eyes.

From there she went home. The process was a blur as she relied on muscle memory to get her on public transportation and then walk the rest of the way. By the time she came to she was inside and knocking on the door to her roommate’s bedroom.

“YN, I thought you wouldn’t be back until three,” Johnny said as he opened the door, voice laced with sleep.

However, his inquiry seemed to no longer matter as he took YN in. She’d stopped holding it all in and her body slouched, shaking slightly as the tears poured down her face. Every second or so she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out until the sob finally released itself.

Johnny had her in his arms instantly. Not a word was uttered as he used one hand to press her face close to his chest and the other to rub slow circles into her back. And even when she calmed enough to speak, he merely shushed her and pulled her into his room. She wasn’t allowed to say a word until she was dressed in one of his too big t-shirts and they were cuddled in his bed.

She appreciated it too, because even though she’d been ready to talk her mind needed time to collect itself before she blurted out nonsense.

“Hyuk sold his share of the bar to someone else. Needed to let it go for his dad to give him some position at his company or some shit,” she whispered.

She felt Johnny’s body stiffen as she finished and then felt him take several deep breaths as she felt his heart speed up. He wasn’t a person quick to anger, but in certain situations he just couldn’t stop how quickly it came to head. Especially when he was proven right in a way he wished he wasn’t.

Minutes ticked by as he did his deep breathing and YN expected him to blow up or point out how he’d warned her, but nothing came.

“No, I told you so?” she asked.

That got a laugh out of him, though it was bitter.

“You know I won’t. This isn’t like when you bust your ass trying to get down from a table while drunk. This is your dreams being tampered with by a prick who couldn’t even show his dad he was responsible by co-owning a successful bar, but still managed to get what he wanted at your expense.”

Displeasure coated his every word and though it should’ve made her sad to think of her former co-owner and his shitty behavior she couldn’t help but laugh. It was because as he spoke she remembered all the times Johnny had snubbed or called the man out on his bare minimum rich kid behavior to his face. Johnny had never liked him and it was always clear to everyone, so he never missed a chance to be petty.

Sadly, that amusement went as quick as it came.

YN sighed. “Well, it is what it is now. Can’t change what’s already done. At least he said they only want to own it temporarily to pad their portfolio or some shit.”

In an instant, Johnny pulled back and looked at her with wide eyes.

“So, there’s still a chance?”

Though the hope in his voice boosted hers, she couldn’t get herself to give in. So instead of being as enthusiastic, she nodded.

Johnny’s eyes narrowed at that. “I will allow your non-excitement to slide because you are in shock and hurt, but you’re not going to go back to thinking this is a pipe dream. You can and will get the bar all to yourself. And let’s not forget you’re close to saving enough to start your own elsewhere if it falls through. And before you say it, I know this is your dream place in your dream location, but remember you had another dream location before this.”

Naturally, her best friend didn’t even allow her to voice her negative thoughts, something she was grateful for in that moment. She’d had a rant about how she should give up and all kinds of downer nonsense ready to spill out before he’d called her on her bullshit.

Another sigh escaped her and she nodded before laying her head on his chest again.

“Are you opening today?” she asked.

“No. After the bridal party, who wanted to drink and make perfume all night, I needed a break. And because they went well over their time I got paid double so I could miss three days and still not feel the loss.”

“Then can we stay in bed all day?” she asked.

“Sure, we can order something and watch TV. But can we sleep first, you woke me up too early,” he whined.

It was noon.

YN shrugged. “Fine with me, but I need to go get a bon-”

Before she could finish that sentence a dark purple bonnet was shoved in her face and she barely grabbed it before a thought came to her.

“You did steal it!”

“No, you left it in here after you took down your braids that one day. I found it somewhere in my dirty laundry. I for one don’t need a bonnet and for two, after the time I borrowed your SPF lotion and you nearly murdered me I learned my lesson,” Johnny said.

“You almost made me go outside ashy. My skin was being uneven with its six shades of brown instead of one, I didn’t need it to be dry too.”

He rolled his eyes at that but adjusted them a little so he could press a kiss to her forehead and then got comfortable.

“Yes, yes I know. Now put it on and go to sleep,” he said.

Part of her wanted to say something more, but she simply slid the bonnet over her hair, which was twisted, and laid down.

As her eyes closed her brain drifted to the horror of her morning, but she fought it off and tried to focus on the positive. Johnny was right; she had options, which didn’t leave her at a complete loss no matter how things went and that was a good thing.

Plus, she had Johnny by her side, even if it wasn’t always in the way she wanted. That thought brought a twinge to her heart, but she cuddled closer and reminded herself that moments like that were enough.

“He just dropped it all on you at once? I knew he was a self-centered prick, but damn,” Yoongi commented.

YN had relayed what happened to her main bartender when they’d both come in to prep the bar before it opened. She planned to keep it from him until she met her new co-owner, but he saw through her the moment she walked in that afternoon. Fighting him was futile, something she learned within the first six months of him working there, so she just spilled everything as she wiped down the bar stools.

“Yup. No warning at all, just told me with everything done before I could object. Something about thinking just being straightforward would lessen the blow. Since I prefer bluntness and all that,” she mumbled.

Out of the corner of her eyes she noticed Yoongi pause as he wiped down the counter and turn to look at her fully.

“Does that dumbass still not know what the word blunt means? Because it’s sure as fuck not screw over your business partner and the only person who kept a business afloat while he cried to daddy about not getting the position he wanted because he’s a failure. Fucking weirdo,” Yoongi shouted.

Though it wasn't really funny YN couldn't help but throw her head back in laughter, pausing in her cleaning as it coursed through her. She couldn't even stop the tears that came along with it.

When she finally pulled it together Yoongi was cleaning again, but the smile he wore showed he was happy with his handy work. And YN was thankful for it. He always knew just what to say to make her laugh when she needed it, even if the joy only lasted for a few seconds. It was one of the things that drew her into him as they got to know each other. Past his introverted defense mechanisms was a sweet man who often just did his best to help wherever he could.

The only person keeping her sane most days.

“Well, yeah he is a dumbass I will finally and fully admit it. But, he was a dumbass keeping me from having to put off certain things to keep this place moving forward, so for a time he was worth something. Now he’s just a fucking headache fucking up my plans.”

Silence filled the room after that as they finished sanitizing everything and got the bar set up for patrons. They were ready an hour in advance, which wasn’t something they usually did with YN preferring it to be only thirty minutes before the last thing was finished, but she didn’t want them working as she met the new co-owner.

There was nothing in her that wanted to impress them, but she preferred all the things be in tip top shape and nothing left to worry over as she handled something so stressful. It shouldn't have felt like that, but meeting someone she didn’t know and didn’t choose in a bar they would both own wasn’t fun. Especially when she thought about other people who’d come in before wanting to be her business partner but wanted everything changed. Something that wouldn’t happen.

“You can take a break and go out if you want. I can meet them alone,” she said as she checked one of the mini fridges under the bar one last time.

She expected Yoongi to say he’d go grab coffee from his favorite place to give him that final boost to keep on his customer service voice all shift, but he shook his head no. He grabbed a bottle of water and sat down at one of the tables farther into the bar. It confused YN and she planned to say something, but then the sound of a door opening caught her attention.

They both turned their attention to the intruder and YN immediately felt like the wind was knocked out of her.

In the door of her bar stood Chae Hyungwon, her ex-best friend.

Thankfully, he appeared just as shocked as she was, though he tried his best to pull it together. His usual fake confident smirk made an appearance and his gaze shifted from her to the space around them. His head nodded every so often and soft sounds of approval slipped from his lips as he did.

YN knew it was him avoiding her gaze to prepare whatever non-caring act he planned to put on with her, but that didn’t ease her at all.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

After several seconds of blatantly ignoring her Hyungwon responded.

“Is that any way to speak to your new boss?” he asked.

Shock wasn’t the word that YN used to describe how hearing those words felt, mostly because it wasn’t what coursed through her. It was more like amusement at being some sort of joke to the universe. Amusement and immense sadness.

“Co-owner. You are my co-owner. And let’s not forget that I own most of it,” YN said.

Hyungwon’s eyes went wide. “You’re the co-owner?”

That was a small win for her.

“Ah, so Hyuk didn’t just decide to withhold information from me. At least he’s a consistent idiot,” she said.

There was a beat of silence before YN pulled herself together and decided that she would unleash her feelings later and handle her predicament in that moment.

“So, shall we sit and talk?” she asked.

Hyungwon stared at her for a moment before nodding. At that YN motioned towards a table she’d set up for them and went to sit down. She waited a moment for him to settle in before pushing a folder across the table. And though clearly confused he took it and flipped through the contents.

He scoffed. “What is this, a college orientation? Am I to read and sign all of these, then be punished if I fail to do them or disregard them?”

“Yes.”

That startled him, but YN didn’t give him time to recover.

“That contains all the information that you need to know about this business. How it is currently run, it’s vendors, it’s monthly costs, the excel sheets we use to track information so that we can make small changes here and there to stay on top of how to best run things. And as you saw on top, explains the rules that I’ve laid out for you as co-owner. They are the same for anyone who wants to take on that role and besides small adjustments have remained the same throughout my use of them. They are not fYNible. With a compelling argument I may be willing to bend something but the odds are virtually nonexistent. They must be understood and abided by and any of them that are major violations will be cause for termination of your co-ownership, without a mandatory buyout from me. Which is something that was in the contract that Hyuk gave you, so you’ve already agreed.”

“That’s not allowed. I saw it, but it didn’t go into-”

YN laughed. “You signed a contract without meeting with the other co-owner, the person who owns fifty-five percent of this bar. Thus, not allowing yourself the chance to get all the information. Which means you forfeit the right to suddenly demand a change on something you agreed to blindly. My rules are not outlandish, they are just specific and demand that you are serious or at the very least don’t get in my way.”

Laughter escaped Hyungwon, but it clearly held no humor. For a moment he looked prepared to argue or leave, but he simply reopened the folder and read over the first few sheets. Though there were a few sounds that were akin to disapproval that wasn’t what reflected on his face when he glanced up several minutes later. It was more so a look of mild amazement.

“This keeps anyone who buys in from doing anything slightly shady behind your back or straight up dumb without mutual decision. It’s ironclad, makes sense not to put it directly into the contract since you’re opposed to negotiating that part,” he said.

Part of her felt proud, though it was solely because she knew she’d done things well in that respect. But the other part of her was displeased that the pride appeared from hearing a form of praise from Hyungwon, even if it wasn’t directly from impressing him.

Naturally, he couldn’t leave it on a positive note though.

“Too bad you didn’t come up with one where it stopped him from fucking you over,” Hyungwon mumbled.

“Yeah, so sad, if only we could make those kinds of things for everyone we encounter. Though I guess something for me to hold people accountable for fucking me over wouldn’t be something you’d be personally interested in. Could be used against you,” YN said without missing a beat.

Hyungwon’s face went red after that and she could see a flurry of emotions playing out on his face but could pick up on none. Not that, that lessened her amusement at all. She’d gotten a reaction out of him and it was childish, but felt wonderful nonetheless.

“Is there anything else you need to show me?” Hyungwon finally asked after a minute.

YN nodded and stood from her seat.

“I can show you around the place and explain how things run. However, I ask that you hold all questions until you have absorbed all the information, I don’t mind if you use your phone or something to write things down as I talk. But if you think it’s important to know please stop me and ask.”

All she got was a nod before she led him around the space. She showed him the back rooms, including the office, and explained how things worked schedule wise with everything. Then she brought him back out front and pointed out things behind the bar to get him acquainted with how things worked. Then she led him through the space and showed him the balcony that gave the best access to their view of a skyline and water off in the distance. Once finished she brought him back inside and was about to wrap it up, but then he spoke.

“How many employees are there?” he asked.

“Including myself seven. With the way we currently operate, more aren’t needed, but there is still a chance we could hire a few more.”

Hyungwon nodded. “And I’m guessing he’s one.”

That was the first time YN glanced Yoongi’s way since Hyungwon appeared and she turned to see the male drinking his water and scrolling through his phone.

“Yes, Yoongi has been here almost a year now.”

At the sound of his name Yoongi looked up and while he didn’t seem particularly fond when he glanced Hyungwon’s way he did offer YN a smile, one she returned happily.

After that her attention moved back to Hyungwon who glanced between the two of them and looked prepared to say something but didn’t.

“Well, is there anything else you need or would like to see? We open pretty soon so we’re running low on time,” YN said.

Seconds ticked by as she watched Hyungwon stare at her but seem off in his own little world. It was something that was the norm for when he debated on what to say or do so it wasn’t surprising, but it made her uncomfortable.

“Hyungwon,” she called out.

He snapped out of it and cleared his throat. “No. I’m good. I’ll just sit off in one of the back corners for a while to watch how things go and then leave.”

A nod and then YN left him to do what he wanted. The two waitresses for the night arrived just then and everyone got their behinds into gear. Then minutes later their customers began filing in.

Though YN’s mind reeled from what happened she didn’t get the chance to linger on it, because work became the focus quickly. She enjoyed bartending so she did that alongside Yoongi and though the place wasn’t packed, people tended to order drinks rapidly. And since their bar had made its name for mixed and signature drinks it wasn’t just rounds of shots. They needed to mix drinks and do it right, half-assing it to get it out quickly wasn't something they did. Especially since part of the draw for some, besides the drinks, was watching them being made. They enjoyed some sort of show with it, though neither YN nor Yoongi went all out to impress, just did what they needed to with focus and a slight flourish.

So, by the time she caught her breath and wasn’t focusing on anything work related and glanced up to find Hyungwon she noticed his former spot taken up by someone else. He was nowhere she could see, so she assumed he left and felt herself sigh in relief. It didn’t clear the chaos she kept at bay in her mind, but helped it settle some.

However, she again didn’t get time to linger on it because they’d done the last call and an influx of orders came on. She and Yoongi worked to get them out and were thankful when people began to leave, some stumbling to the exit with the help of security.

From there everyone immediately began working on their sections to clean and an hour and a half later they were all on their way out the building. YN saw off her waitresses and security then prepared to say her goodbyes to Yoongi only for him to be giving her a look she saw when he’d offer to join her on the way home and she’d deny.

Which meant that fighting him on it would’ve been useless, so she just began walking towards the train station.

For several minutes they did so in silence and though YN seemed calm it was clear that she was fighting something off. Something she didn’t want to talk about or at least that’s what she told herself until Yoongi spoke up.

“You can scream if you want,” he said.

That made her pause and then laugh loudly. It brought on looks from the few people lingering about late at night, but she didn’t care at all. One would’ve thought she was laughing at the idea of screaming to release her feelings, but it was more so that screaming is what Johnny had her do when the incident happened years before. He got her drunk, took her to the top of a building and they screamed until she was a laughing mess on the ground. He’d had to carry her home after.

“I wish that was the fix for this. Hell, I wish I didn’t have such a strong reaction to him after all this time.”

Again, silence filled the space as they began walking away and neither of them spoke again until they were seated in a half-deserted train car. Yoongi took that as the perfect moment to bump her shoulder to get her attention and it worked.

“You could tell me about it. You don’t have to of course, but it could help the feelings a bit,” he offered.

At that YN sighed and her eyes closed. A lot of her screamed to let it die so she didn’t have to deal with the emotions again, but a smaller voice reminded her that the feelings would always be there and she probably only felt so intensely because she’d been forced to endure them in front of someone who didn’t know what happened. If it had been Johnny or her by herself she’d be better about it. And she had to remind herself she trusted Yoongi a whole lot, so telling him wasn’t the end of the world by any means.

Once she’d made peace with her choice her eyes opened and she turned so her back leaned against the small wall blocking her seat from the door. She knew that if she told him it had to be while looking at him.

“As you may know I have an ex that Johnny loathes with his entire being. I’m sure you remember that drunk rant that he gave the first month of you working there,” she paused to see his response and once he nodded she continued. “Well, I know he went on and on about planning to beat up all the people who’d ever hurt me, so there were a lot on that list. Anyway, he got to talking about an old friend before he ran to the bathroom to throw up. That friend was Hyungwon or my new co-owner, I don’t think I told you his name. But yeah, he was my best friend. Like that friend I made the moment I came to orientation and looked every bit of the confused foreigner I was. We clicked and he felt like the best friend I’d made in my entire life. Even helped me figure out how to work up the nerve to talk to my ex to ask him out.”

YN sighed and used her hand to push back a few loose curls that had slipped from her bun. The voice telling her to shut up got louder and she knew if she wanted to stop she could, but something about the attentive look on Yoongi’s face stopped her.

“In our senior year things were beyond stressful. He was dealing with family business stuff and his father has always been a difficult man. While I was dealing with trying to find a job so I could keep a visa and stay in the country, while also trying to graduate. We barely saw each other and I barely saw my boyfriend either despite usually sleeping at his every night. I decided to change that one night, I messaged Hyungwon to schedule a hang out and he agreed. Then I grabbed some food and snacks and headed to my boyfriend’s. I was at most an hour earlier than when I said I’d be coming, something not out of the norm for me and it wasn’t like he didn’t know.

“It was so quiet that I assumed he was asleep. I made sure to keep quiet as I settled in and then creeped towards the bedroom. However, I didn’t make it there, because while a few feet away the door swung open and I was met with him in his boxers and a disheveled Hyungwon. They didn’t notice me right away or at least I like to think so since they started making out and didn’t stop until I cleared my throat. The expressions of shock at that point are barely a memory because I’d started to tear up and just turn and left. They both attempted to reach out, but obviously I shut them down.”

After she finished Yoongi’s expression shifted to shock and then anger.

“And yet he acted like he was superior and has nothing to be sorry for when he came in today. What kind of bullshit is that? He should at least appear apologetic,” he said.

YN went to answer, but they were at her stop so she waited until they were off the train and up the steps.

“Hyungwon’s default expression is resting bitch face, especially when trying to hide some sort of emotion behind it. And he will lay it on thick. But he also is likely to force that and a haughty demeanor because he just does. It’s a defense mechanism, especially when he feels wronged in some way. He turned it on me a week after it was clear I wasn’t forgiving him. He’d prefer to be the one who is uncaring, then to endure too much emotion. No matter if he’s the cause of it.”

“What kind of fucked up shit is that? He messed up, not you. You had every right to refuse to deal with him or forgive him,” Yoongi said.

YN shrugged. “To a degree it’s a defense mechanism that I understand even if I don’t agree, but sometimes it does make him more of a douche than he’s going for. But it is what it is.”

They walked the short distance to her apartment in silence and YN couldn’t help but realize how much better she felt. It didn’t fix everything, but it helped more than she thought it would. Johnny usually was the one to get her calm enough to process the rest and she knew that once she told him the news he’d help her overcome the lingering emotions more, but with the chance to vent to the two people she trusted the most it was different.

Once they reached her apartment she turned and pulled Yoongi into a hug. He went stiff for a second before he hugged her back.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“No problem,” he said in return.

She held him for a few seconds longer after that and then let go, gently nudged him towards the cab that pulled up at the most convenient time out of nowhere. Or at least she tried to pretend she didn’t order it when he wasn’t paying attention, but just like every other time she did it he saw through her.

They waved at each other and she went inside once the cab pulled off. On the elevator up she couldn’t stop the smile on her lips. Her brain had halted its existential crisis and focused on the memory of Yoongi’s own smile as the car departed. It was beyond cute and she’d told him that when she’d first saw him do it, but what she felt in the elevator was different. There was an all-consuming happiness and a weird feeling in her stomach as she thought of it then.

The smile didn’t leave until she was sitting at the table with Johnny eating fried chicken too late at night and telling him what happened. He ranted and raved, even made a few threats, which brought the feeling back again, but that time directed at her roommate.

Weeks passed, and though YN hated the arrangement for multiple reasons she got used to it. Hyungwon didn’t try to implement any major changes and most of what he did was stuff she’d planned to do months later when they had more than enough funds for it.

Though there was one thing she’d agreed to that came with some regret. Or at least regret is what filled her as she had to endure a couple who didn’t understand distance and chose to sit at the bar.

The moment they strolled in, clinging to each other, they’d made a beeline for her side of the bar and told her how they’d seen the bar mentioned on the account of some popular new actor and then promptly shoved a phone in her face to show her. All it took was a single glance to know that she’d never seen that man in the bar before and the picture had been taken around a time they weren’t open. He was sitting on the bar’s balcony with a drink in hand and you could see people enjoying themselves behind him, but they appeared to focus on appearing in the right angle of the picture for it not to be fully staged. Which meant it was Hyungwon’s doing.

YN agreed to allow him to expand social media reach because though she did it, sometimes it wasn’t the best that it could be. However, their definitions of expansion differed and about four celebrities that had never been there had posted about having such a good time at that bar. Something that brought in business, but also forced YN and her staff to lie when asked by customers. And customers asked a whole lot when they came in, needing every detail down to what the celeb smelled like.

It was annoying but arguing about it with Hyungwon ended up with her just conceding in annoyance every time. Despite the nuisance of it, she truly didn’t have it in her to keep the back and forth with him on the subject. Doing it just didn’t prove to be worth it.

So, she and everyone endured the nonsense. Though as she watched the couple get increasingly touchier she almost stormed off into the back office to put a stop to it once and for all. In fact, she’d turned to tell Yoongi that she was going to step away but was distracted in a second.

“YN!” Johnny shouted as he approached the bar.

From the moment she laid her eyes on her best friend she noticed the offness. The giant stumbled a little while he walked and there was a slur to his words. His clothing was also a little less put together than usual and though not noticeable to most people it’s something she picked up on after years of enduring his quirks.

“Johnny, I thought you had a date,” she said.

That immediately made him frown at her. Of course, she guessed how well that had gone, but she knew that he preferred to explain to her about how bad it was, so she got the true dramatic effect. So instead of saying anything she allowed him to take up a seat at the bar and got him the coldest bottle of his favorite beer that she had. He took it happily and downed half of it before he began his story.

“She wanted me to be a third in her relationship. Brought the boyfriend and everything. Which we all know I’m fine with and my dating profile says that, but you warn a person beforehand. She said she was single and then boom, boyfriend suddenly.”

He paused and downed the rest of the bottle, which was quickly replaced with another by Yoongi who happened to be moving by. Johnny gave him a grateful nod and picked it up, but just held it.

“And that would also not be the worst thing in the world, but then the entire time the guy kept sizing me up and then asking the most sexually invasive questions. At one point he asked me how big my dick was and seemed ready to whip his out so that we could compare them. I had to drink to get through the entire thing and sped out of there the moment the bill for dinner was paid. Blocked her dating account, her social media, and number on the way here. Then had to block his number, because apparently blocking her wasn’t enough of a hint for them,” he said.

YN winced hearing that part, because she couldn’t imagine enduring something so awkward and then creepy as that. Nor could she imagine not understanding when someone wasn’t interested after such intensive blocking.

Pathetic was the word that came to mind.

“Well, I’m glad you escaped them. You get to drink that one and one more, then you switch to water. Also go back and heat up my lunch or have someone grab it for you, you need something else in you and I didn’t get around to eating it myself,” YN said.

That changed Johnny’s demeanor in an instant and he glared at her, but before he could scold her about not eating properly Hyungwon appeared.

“YN, if you’re not busy up here can you come back into the office to help me with something? It’ll only be a few minutes, I want to know I’m doing this right,” he said.

Johnny’s glare shifted from her to Hyungwon, but neither of them paid him any mind.

“Sure, I’ll be back there in a sec,” she said.

Hyungwon nodded and disappeared again. And though it was clear that Johnny had something to say YN ignored him, turning to tell Yoongi only to get shooed away before she could open her mouth. She shot him a quick thumbs up and then hustled back to the office.

“What’s up?” she asked as she closed the door behind her.

The moment Hyungwon had her close enough he pointed to the screen of their computer and started to explain how he’d tried to do something in the excel sheet for the month’s vendor expenses but something went wrong. He walked her through the whole process before she stepped in to show him what he’d done wrong for it to not to work. And then they went over some of the other sheets to ensure they were right, as well as some of the vendor request forms that needed to get done by that time the following week.

It was an easy conversation and though weeks before YN thought she’d still be awkward and apprehensive; she’d managed to find a good groove in dealing with Hyungwon as a business partner and ignoring the pain from the past. He was someone who put himself fully into his work, so it wasn’t hard to mesh with him on the subject. In fact, he got more work down in the weeks he’d been on board than Hyuk in the years he was YN’s partner. She never minded doing all of the work before, but she also would never deny that having some of the weight off her was refreshing. Even in situations where she had to double check and teach Hyungwon the ropes a few times.

When they were done she stood from her seat and stretched, her eyes meeting the clock to see she’d been back there for almost an hour.

“Is there anything else you need?” she asked.

Though Hyungwon shook his head at first, he stilled for a moment and then whipped around to look at her. The expression on his face startled her with its seriousness, his eyebrows furrowed and the frown on his lips was intense. There was also a glint in his eyes that she recalled from when he found out some not happy news and a part of her worried greatly about what he’d say.

“Actually. I would like to apologize,” he said.

That confused YN for a second because she’d still be in work mode, until she saw the way his body sagged and then it clicked in her head. Her hands went up in defense as she shook her head rapidly.

“You don-”

“Please let me talk?”

And though her whole body screamed to not let him continue she couldn’t find it in her to not let him get whatever it was off his chest. So, she took a deep breath and nodded so that he’d continue, she didn’t trust herself to say the right thing.

“I know I apologized then and I meant it, even if I did the thing where I pretended like it wasn’t my fault and that you should’ve forgiven me. I fucked up on so many levels and I didn’t mean to. I need you to know that it was never my intention, I just… I don’t know how to explain it. That night is a weird blur of sadness, drinking, and feeling someone wanted to be in my presence and cared about my feelings. I gave in for stupid and selfish reasons. He told me you’d broken up over a week before, but even then it wasn’t an okay thing to do. I know that. I knew when I agreed. I knew when it happened. And I knew the entire time after.

“I have no valid excuse for my betraying you like that. I just want you to know that I’m sorry. And I’m even more sorry that I’m messing with your dream. It wasn’t my intention at all. I swear to you I didn’t know you were the co-owner when the contract was signed. And I’d planned to back out after I found out, but it was too early in the contract for me to be able to sell it to you and I would’ve had to sell it back to him. And I’ve worked with Hyuk before, he will continue to fuck things up. And I guess I’m using a lot of words to say I’m sorry and I’m rambling, so again I’m truly sorry.”

By the end of his tangent YN was left confused and unsure. She could see the sincerity, something he’d never been able to fake, and she knew he felt sorry for his actions when it happened, but she didn’t know how to respond. There was nothing in her head that felt like an accurate response to what he’d said. Especially the apologies, because she’d forgiven him a year after the incident. Not in a whole ceremonious way of letting it go to move on, but she realized she moved one already. The hurt wasn’t gone and she knew if she saw him her reaction would not be positive, but she knew that if she did see him and he spoke to her she’d probably be willing to talk it through with him. Hell, she’d thought about it for half a second when he first stepped foot into the bar, but he’d chosen the snooty demeanor and she’d thrown it away in an instant.

All of that uncertainty must have been clear to Hyungwon, thankfully, because he cleared his throat to regain her attention and then smiled at her. A real smile. The first smile she’d seen on his face since the first time she’d seen him again.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. You don’t have to say anything ever really. We can act like I didn’t say anything at all and keep going how we’re going. I just wanted you to know that,” he said.

YN’s mind scrambled to find a response after that because it didn’t want to have said nothing, but she ended up nodding and walking out without saying a word. She’d made sure to keep her expression light and offered a small smile before she turned away so he didn’t think she was running from him or hated him.

With her mind going a mile a minute she stepped into the staff bathroom to use it and run a cold, wet paper towel across the back of her neck to help calm her down. When she got worked up she got hot and needed to be brought down before it spiraled. It only took five minutes before she felt ready to head back out to the bar, though she wasn’t completely herself as she went.

A large part of her wanted to go back and yell at Hyungwon and then have a heart to heart, but she willed herself to keep moving forward.

However, when she reached the end of the hall she wished she’d done that. People seated at the bar had left and moved elsewhere, which made it easy for her to spot Johnny nursing a glass of water. He looked ready to drink it, but something else had his attention. Someone else.

Yoongi was standing directly in front of him, body bent over so that his arms rested on the bar between them. He wore a wide smile and reached over to poke Johnny’s cheek as they laughed together.

They were so close to each other and so comfortable, that it was almost romantic. Then with bated breath YN watched as Johnny ran his hand through his hair and winked at Yoongi, something he only ever did when he was flirting. A quirk that she’d pointed out to him once that he’d never noticed he did. But that wasn’t what made her stomach churn, it was the light blush that coated Yoongi’s cheeks as he punched Johnny’s arm.

Both men were flirting with each other and by their expressions it was far from the playful kind they’d done once when some girl kept hitting on Yoongi and wouldn’t understand no until Johnny stepped in as his “boyfriend.” Oh no, their flirting was real and natural.

And YN didn’t know which one it hurt more seeing do it.

At least once a month there was an event held at the bar and so YN wouldn’t open it to the general public. And by some miracle one fell on a Sunday and was during midafternoon, which meant she didn’t have work the next day and they wouldn’t be open late into the night. Both things were something she needed after over a week of feeling at her lowest.

The down feeling wasn’t new by any means, but it didn’t make it easier. Nor did her avoidance of Johnny, who usually knew the right things to say to get her out of a funk.

It was a consequence of her avoiding her roommate.

After she’d seen his interactions with Yoongi at the club she’d gotten over things pretty quickly, but they didn’t stop there. Though both males had talked before their communication ramped up. They were texting often and sometimes even video chatting. Along with that came an increase of them hanging out. On one free day YN had swung by to bring Johnny food at his shop, but when she appeared Yoongi was already there and they were eating. Of course, they invited her to join and she did, but it hadn’t been fun for her. Which was how she described all her hang outs with them. It was the constant third wheel kind of feeling and seeing as she had no time to adjust to her realization of feelings for both of them, she definitely didn’t have time to adjust to them possibly getting together.

All of it was too much at once and only aided along the low she felt. Which meant she turned to avoiding them when she could. Some things were changing for the club and that meant she had a built-in excuse to be busy. That coupled with her clearly being down meant that they left her be when she said she wanted to venture out alone or with other friends. And they definitely didn’t stop her if she just said she wanted to lay in bed all day and be left alone. She’d ensured that she did it a normal amount so not to alarm them and it worked for her.

Well, only worked in the matters of not being forced to third wheel. Though the times they hung out in the apartment while she locked herself in her room didn’t do much for her whole, dealing with feelings plan.

Not that she dealt with them well when not around them.

However, the day of the event she saw the light at the end of the tunnel for her funk. YN woke up feeling on top of the world and everything ran so smoothly from then on. They’d set up, received the guests, and kept the event running without incident. Minus the very drunk man who got weirdly passionate about telling the story about how the wine he was drinking was made and then proceeded to spill it.

Hell, even seeing how Hyungwon and his boyfriend mingled without issue brought her some sort of joy. And that joy was how her brain drowned out the voice that told her that Hyungwon’s boyfriend seemed familiar and not in the good way. Something that would have persisted if not for Johnny having approached her.

“Isn’t that the guy who showed up to that weeklong dating event with a different person each time?” he asked YN.

That was all it took for her brain to kick into gear and her head whipped over to look where Hyungwon stood with him. It took a single second to see his face and then recall all the times he’d come in with people and sometimes left with someone else. Or at the very least flirted with others, slipping people, including YN, his number while his date was preoccupied. He’d made her uncomfortable.

Those things weren’t cool and alone were enough to alarm YN, but that wasn’t the issue she found herself focused on when she stared him down. No, the problem was that when Hyungwon had appeared at the bar and introduced his boyfriend he’d spoken of how they’d been together for almost two years. That series of events had happened only two months before he became her co-owner. Meaning the man was a worse cheater than she’d thought he was.

“Oh, fuck me,” she groaned.

“Yeah,” Johnny said.

Though YN avoided eye contact with him most days the tone of his voice made her finally meet his gaze and it wasn’t comforting. In fact, he appeared a bit uncomfortable and unsure of how to react to the situation. She thought it was because of what happened, but then she glanced down to his hand and saw a business card in it. It showed Hyungwon’s boyfriend’s name and work info, but with a quick flip YN saw another number scribbled on back along with something about calling for a good time.

The man held no shame. Hitting on people with his longtime boyfriend present and the photographer of the event no less. Someone they’d hired to work it and would report back to them for how everything went. Truly the worst possible person because despite the possibility of lack of moral compass, the odds weren’t that great that he wouldn’t tell the person who hired him what transpired with their boyfriend.

A headache from it all was an understatement for what YN felt about it. But she knew what she had to do despite it all.

“Just…” she trailed off, taking the card from him and slipping it in her pocket. “Just don’t talk to him about it. I’ll bring it up when we wrap up for the night. It’s better I do it.”

“Are you sure?”

She wasn’t but nodded anyway.

Johnny didn’t believe her, but when she shooed him away to continue taking the photos he went without much hesitation.

From there she just worked to get through the last two hours of the event. She kept the bar going and even took a turn as a waitress when things got a little hectic since she hadn’t thought she’d need many staff on hand for something not that big.

Naturally, she hoped that it all was enough to keep her mind preoccupied, but that wasn’t the case. Any time she wasn’t focused, even for a second, her brain thought about it. And it was worse whenever she glanced up to see the both of them together as if one of them wasn’t a horrible human being. So much of her hated the idea of Hyungwon being hurt like that, even with their own past. No one deserved that. Plus, they’d made a lot of progress since he’d made that apology and YN had started to feel good around him. Like she actively wanted to be there. They’d even eaten lunch together a few times.

By the time everyone had cleared out and the staff was almost ready to go she snapped out of her own thoughts of dread to pull Hyungwon to the side. She said something about something she needed him to look over before he left for the night and he followed her to the office without hesitation. Which was good for her nerves, but not enough to quail the new set of anxiety that hit when his boyfriend said he’d wait and sat down at one of the tables. She would’ve preferred if he’d not been there to be confronted in her presence, but she didn’t have the luxury, so she pushed through.

When they entered the office she took a deep breath and turned to face Hyungwon, who appeared a bit startled and she assumed her expression aptly portrayed the discomfort and nerves she felt.

“I could prolong this because that’s totally what I want to do, because this makes me extremely uncomfortable, but I feel like you need to know. Your boyfriend has been here before. And not like just a random patron, but a person coming here on dates with people. Even attended a few events with a date in the last three months or so. And for the most part they’re always different people. And to make matters worse he’s always flirting with someone else when his date is away or even right in front of them. He’s hit on multiple staff members before, including me. Also, he slipped Johnny his card, with his personal number and a… flirtatious message on it.”

YN spoke so quickly she wasn’t sure he understood her, so the frown that appeared on his lips was what she used to indicate she could continue going. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the card, but before she could hold it up for him to see or hand it to him his hand was on her wrist.

Startled, she looked up to see the frown had left his face and he’d gone for a much more neutral expression, though his eyes held fire behind them. It almost made her flinch.

Hyungwon scoffed. “I didn’t think you’d stoop to this. He’d never even heard of this bar before I told him I was going to become a co-owner nor would he have the time to do that. Also, what could possibly be the problem with coming here with other people if he did. He can bring friends to events or out for a night of partying. My goodness YN why would you even try to spew such false info-”

Before he could finish, YN put a hand over his mouth. That confused him but didn’t stop the way he looked at her. And that only made her angrier.

She’d listened to his little rant about how she was wrong and hoped that he would change course. Hoped that the way his tone wavered every now and then was indication of him not believing his own words, but he kept going. If she hadn’t stopped him YN was sure he’d descended into words much less passive in calling her liar and into much more hurtful talk. And with the way she felt she couldn’t endure that. She refused to be hurt by him when all she wanted to do was help.

“I would never make up something like that. And I am not as stupid as to think people hanging out in a bar or doing the bare minimum of hugging is cause to deem them together. Nor would I sit here and make up being uncomfortably flirted with and Johnny getting his number and a not so ‘I want to be friends’ note from him. Something I was just going to show you. But that doesn’t matter to you apparently. Because someone who's been harmed by something as bad as cheating would totally make that up for shits and giggles or for some sort of revenge. Because I of all people who has let much worse slide would do that, right? Don’t believe me, that’s fucking fine. Live your life thinking I’d lie about that or misunderstand. But if you want to pull your head out of your ass you can look at this card, you can look at the files on the computer to see pictures from events, you can check the bar’s website and social media for the pictures too. Hell, go ask Johnny for them. He has more than he gave up and with the way he was making out with most of them I’m sure he has something to show that.”

After that YN didn’t wait for a reply, she simply turned on her heel, grabbed her bag, and stormed out of the room. She went out front so she could tell her manager to finish locking up and tell Johnny she wanted to leave, but when she got out there she saw something that made her feel even worse.

Johnny and Yoongi were standing across from each other at the bar laughing and being all touchy. It wasn’t the worst thing ever, but then they leaned in close enough that they looked ready to kiss until Yoongi happened to notice YN and turned to look at her. His smile dropped and he stepped away, moving to get from behind the bar but she didn’t stay put.

YN all but sprinted out of the building with three voices calling out to her. And she didn’t stop until she was in a taxi, sobbing and asking to be taken to some bar that was far away from her own business and home so they wouldn’t stumble upon her.

From then on time moved in a way that she couldn’t comprehend. She reached the bar and immediately muted her ringer to avoid calls or texts. And once inside she greeted the bartender she was familiar with and asked for a drink. Something she did until she was so drunk that she just barely was cognizant of what was happening around her. Of course, she wanted more, but she needed to be responsible despite all the things that had crumbled right in front of her.

“I called you a taxi, it’s out front. Go home YN,” JB, the bartender, said.

Though part of her wanted to say no she simply nodded, paid, and headed out to the taxi that waited for her. She managed to walk normally until she reached the taxi where she stumbled a bit and had to be helped inside. Once she and her driver were in their seats she slurred her words and told him her address. He grunted and they were off.

The whole drive her brain kept trying to figure out how’d she’d deal with Johnny when she got home or Yoongi when she had to work. Her brain was so hazy that she couldn’t form full ideas for Johnny, but decided she’d just have someone else take her shifts with Yoongi. That answer made her so proud that she smiled and patted herself on the back.

However, the back patting stopped when the driver stopped and she got out, only to realize he’d dropped her a few blocks from her apartment. He’d driven off by then and she felt slightly more sober, so she started her trek home. There was some tripping over her own feet and stopping when her vision blurred but she did okay.

Ten minutes in though she felt her stomach drop as she heard a voice.

“YN? Got damnit, YN where have you been?” Yoongi called out.

Though she heard him clear as day she continued walking without even a glance backwards. She even put a pep in her step, though that was less about avoiding him and more about being miffed about the use of her full first name.

“YN, could you stop,” he said.

She continued ignoring him. Even when she stopped to put in the code to her building, when she stopped to wait for the elevator, and when both of them stood in the small space together. Yoongi was displeased, but he didn’t force anything simply followed behind her.

He tried to speak again once they entered the apartment, but he wasn’t the only one.

“Can you just answer m....”

“Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been calli...” Johnny started

Regardless of their concerns she continued to ignore them both, even tuning out what they had to say as she kicked off her shoes and deposited her bag on one of the hooks near the door. The plan was to walk past them and into her room where she would pass out, but as she made her first step she tripped over a box that she hadn’t seen.

Thankfully, they caught her and got her standing and steady. She muttered a quick thank you and then looked at what had been her undoing, only to see a box she’d asked Johnny to move multiple times.

That surely brought up some anger as her head whipped up so she could glare at him.

“Why can’t you just listen to what I say? Or better yet understand that there is an issue? That all signs point to a fucking problem if you do something like that? Why? I’ve almost hurt myself like ten times already and you have yet to move it!”

Johnny’s own anger subsided a little and he appeared sheepish for a second, mumbling an apology and moving the box out of the way. He turned to her after, but she didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say or talk about, so she attempted to storm off to her room as planned. Attempting was key in that, because the moment the foot that hit the box touched down on its own she cried out in pain.

“Fuck,” Johnny said as he caught her and held her up.

“Stupid fucking box!” she screamed.

“Oh, fuck. What can we do? How can we help?” a panicked Yoongi asked.

YN cursed a few more times as the throbbing settled in.

“Just take me to my room. I just want to sleep and not deal with this shit.”

Both men nodded and helped her to her room, carefully placing her down on the bed. From there she slipped off her jeans - she had leggings on underneath - and shrugged off her heavy sweater so she only had her sports bra on. After she got comfortable in the bed, using a pillow to put under her throbbing ankle and threw a bonnet over her hair, thankful to be wearing it braided.

As she got comfortable and prepared to sleep she realized that neither of them had left and when she prepared to tell them to both men crawled into the bed with her, getting on either side.

“What are you do-”

She wasn’t allowed to finish though because Johnny cut her off.

“Can we just stay? We know we stressed you out in the last few minutes and we feel like shit. It would make us feel better and if you say no, we’ll just sit on the floor or outside your door.”

Yoongi nodded. “We’d just feel better closer.”

Though she opened her mouth to argue she found that with the pain in her ankle and the alcohol wearing off she was too tired for it. So, she said nothing and closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself and laying completely still until she fell asleep.

Or mostly fell asleep. With the two of them in her bed so close and radiating so much body heat she found it hard to slip completely. Not that either of them could tell that she wasn't asleep.

"It has to be more than the Hyungwon situation. I think I know what it is and that means we need to tell her soon,” Yoongi whispered.

"Wait. What? We have everything set for a week. Can it not wait?"

"Have you seen how she's been acting lately? She's pulling away from both of us and a week gives her more time to put more distance. We won't have a chance to come clean by then or even get a proper conversation in about it. She'll just think it's pity or not feel enough to care."

"Okay, tomorrow then?"

"Yeah, it's an off day and she's ahead of all her work, so even if she goes in it'll be fine."

Silence followed that and then soft snores.

Their words confused her, but she also felt her stomach drop as she imagined them saying they were together or any other thing that would make her distressed. Her mind couldn’t stop thinking of possibilities and she finally knocked out as a way to avoid the overthinking.

When she woke up it was around three in the morning and it was because she was overheated. Confusion filled YN as she couldn’t figure out the problem, only to open her eyes and see both men cuddled into her from either side. Everything came rushing back to her at once, but she was still tired enough that she prepared to ignore it and go back to sleep.

Until she noticed their hands intertwined over her body. Nausea hit fast and before she knew it, she slipped from the bed and exited the room. It was the only time she was happy that either of them were heavy sleepers.

She limped from her room and went to Johnny’s. She created a similar set up for her ankle and pushing down all negative thoughts she cuddled into one of his plushies and went to sleep. Though not nearly fast enough to stop the tears.

The day after chaos reigned, YN woke up surprisingly early but didn’t dare leave Johnny’s bed. She waited in the dark in silence until she heard Yoongi leave and then slipped into her room as Johnny was in the kitchen making coffee. She’d barely made it in without him catching her, but once she was inside and the door was locked, him knowing didn’t matter.

From then on she tried not to think about anything that occurred and just got undressed and into the shower. The focus was on getting clean and hoping that that hot water would help along her still sore ankle; resting it through the night had been enough to keep it from getting too bad and it hadn’t swollen.

After she was cleaned she made quick work of getting dressed and taking down her hair, allowing her twist out to take full form. It needed a little sprucing up and then she was done. Ready to tackle the day.

Though she didn’t know how.

Every few seconds her brain focused on the sounds of Johnny moving around the apartment. Mostly because he wasn’t in his room, but out in the living room near her door which meant that he awaited her exit. She hoped that he would leave and she would have an opening to slip out and avoid him a little longer, but she knew he was stubborn and didn’t have to work that day so he had all the time in the world.

Since grabbing her stuff and escaping wasn’t a perfect plan she was forced to sit on her bed and think out other ones. There was the obvious choice of talking to him, but with all that went on her head she didn’t want that. Plus, she wanted to be a punk for a while and not deal with whatever it was him and Yoongi planned to tell her. That left things like stay in her room all day, exit via the fire escape and come through the front to grab her bag and shoes, or just go out of her door and walk past him. Staying in her room would drive her up the wall and the fire escape on the building was not the best and she’d have to jump a foot or two to get off it, something that would agitate her ankle.

That meant that she had to walk past him, which meant she needed an excuse. She sat there thinking for a while until she remembered something important she’d put off and planned to do after the event. Something that was important to keep her business running and that she told Johnny about.

It was perfect.

So, after taking a deep breath she stood from her bed and exited her room with some faux confidence and a whole lot of fake indifference.

The moment she was in sight Johnny stopped his movement. He looked ready to move closer to her but seemed to think better of it. Something she was thankful for since she didn’t know if she could get away from him if he was close enough to stop her. He wouldn’t hurt her and would let her go if she asked but being stopped messed with the whole flow of things for her.

YN didn’t linger too long on what he was doing and just walked to the front door and slipped on her shoes. She then grabbed her bag and made sure her wallet and phone were there before her hand touched the door to open it.

And that’s when Johnny spoke up.

“Do you want to talk about what happened? I feel like we should talk about it. Among other things,” he said.

For a second that made YN freeze, but she recovered rather quickly. Maintaining her “indifference” she turned to look at his face for the first time since she walked out and shrugged.

“Maybe later. Don’t really feel like dealing with anything besides spreadsheets and those tax forms I need to get out by tonight,” she said.

Though Johnny still appeared prepared to push he seemed to resign himself when she said tax forms. As an owner of his own business he knew that was important and it took her awhile to get everything ready for her accountant. Which meant he simply collapsed onto the couch and nodded.

With that small victory YN opened the door and walked out. Part of her said she should at least say bye or when she’d be back, but she knew talking to him longer would’ve made it harder for her. She’d nearly cracked when she saw the worry and sadness etched into his face.

Time is what she needed.

No one foresaw five days of it to go by though. Not even YN.

After she’d bypassed Johnny she’d genuinely ended up too busy to have the energy for any sort of conversation. Mountains of paperwork hit and there were issues left and right. Even when she was in Johnny, Yoongi, or Hyungwon’s presence it was so work related that they didn’t even attempt to talk about anything else or ask her to speak later.

Even at home she was left alone, especially because she’d fallen asleep while responding to Johnny about what to order for dinner one night.

Friday night was when things slowed down and she took her usual shift bartending. It was a packed night because they were handling an event that they themselves were running to get more business. Which meant that most of the staff worked, as well as Hyungwon and Johnny who was hired to take pictures to go up on social media and their website.

It put YN right in the middle of all of them and it was uncomfortable, but she kept strong. Well, she committed to giving them the silent treatment unless it was about work. And it worked out pretty well for her, she managed to get through most of her shift without giving into any attempts to talk or pull her to the side.

The non-plan gave way for reasons she couldn't foresee though.

While she left to the backroom to grab more tequila she was trailed by Hyungwon, who’d tried to get her alone the moment she’d come to work that day. He was begging for a moment of her time even as they made their way back towards the bar, but she held strong. Something she regretted the moment she passed the bottles to Yoongi so he could prep drinks and then turned to see someone she didn’t want to.

Her ex, Jisoo, stood right in front of her bar with a few friend’s laughing it up. None of them noticed her for the first several seconds, which she was thankful for, but it didn’t last long enough for her to fully pull herself together. When Jisoo turned to request a drink he was met with a clearly shocked YN.

Jisoo appeared surprised as well, but he pushed that aside to smirk at her with a quickness.

“YN, I didn’t know you worked here. I just got back into the country and this was the first place my friends recommended. Small world. Oh, Hyungwon… what a surprise to see you here too,” Jisoo said.

That snapped YN out of it and she turned to see Hyungwon glaring at the male, his hand in a fist as he stared him down. For a moment she was reminded of the past as she looked at him. The pain rose up for a second and she felt sick having them in the same place, but she pushed it down. Despite their falling out they’d done well since reconnecting and she was mostly past it all, even close to asking him to hang out like a friend. Allowing a piece of shit ruin that wasn’t okay.

Never again would she allow Jisoo to ruin things for her.

With that spark of anger and confidence she turned to stare down Jisoo herself. She noticed Yoongi closer than before and Johnny standing behind the little group ready to pounce, but she waved them off. YN needed it to be her who went off.

“I own this bar and Hyungwon here is my co-owner, so naturally we would be here,” she said.

For a second Jisoo was knocked off his game, but it wasn’t long before he bounced back. He was like Hyungwon that way and YN hated it.

“Oh? I thought you two were no longer on speaking terms?” he said.

“Well, clearly what you thought was wrong,” Hyungwon chimed in.

Hyungwon’s words elicited a laugh from Jisoo for some reason and it made YN uneasy, but she held her ground. No matter what he threw she knew she could take it. There was no way she’d allow him to see her hurt or crying.

Jisoo shrugged. “I guess so. You’re still with Ji-ah though, right YN? Last I heard you and her hit it off.”

That was the thing to force a humorless laugh from her lips. Only Jisoo would mention her other ex whom he knew she’d broken up with a while ago when she’d moved to take a job at a company out of the country. A company that Jisoo worked at, at that.

Of course, he had to be a trash human in more aspects than one.

“No, but you know that. Since you hit on her, took her on a few dates, slept with her and then told her how you knew me. That's why you asked her out in the first place. You remember that, right? Oh, and you have to remember how she told your job that and so they demoted you, plus moved you to a different branch,” YN said.

And at last the smirk left his face. While pleased by that, YN didn’t ignore the way he tensed and the anger that covered every inch of his expression.

“I feel like you’re the one who should remember. Like remember how you cried when you saw us together. The hurt on your face as I kissed hi-”

Before he could speak anymore Hyungwon almost punched him in the face. If it wasn’t for YN hip checking him and thus making him stumble he would’ve made impact on Jisoo’s right cheek.

Once Hyungwon was settled and being held back by a staff member YN’s attention focused solely on Jisoo.

“I don’t want you or your friend’s here. Ever. So, I’m going to ask you to leave. There will be no argument. No putting up a fight. No asking to be given another chance. You will leave and never return, am I understood?” she said calmly.

Naturally, Jisoo opened his mouth to reply but YN cut him off by whistling. Within seconds two security guards were at the bar and Jisoo’s friends dragged him towards the exit. It was clear that he wanted to say or do something, but he left without much issue and after that YN could breathe.

However, breathing meant that it all came crashing down on her and the next thing she knew she ran to the office with tears streaming down her face.

The intention was to get in there alone and ride out whatever wave of emotion hit until she could pull it together and go back to work like nothing happened. Of course, that meant that the first part didn’t happen.

Hyungwon had followed behind her and slipped in before she could fully close the door. Though it bothered a part of her she didn’t have it in her to say anything or react. She did have the energy to cry harder though, her attempt at silent tears only lasting seconds before sobs wracked her body.

In her head all she could think about is what happened all those years ago. Except the pain she felt was amplified. YN knew it wasn’t because of that or at least the feeling wasn’t solely because of that. No, because after reliving that in her head her brain brought up every other failed relationship and honestly all the failures in her life. It didn’t stop playing the flashbacks until it reached the more recent things to fuck up her life plans and the uncertain romantic feelings she had to endure.

It was all too much, especially when it came at her all at once.

She ended up so in her own head that she didn’t feel Hyungwon pull her into his arms and hold her close. Didn’t hear the apologies and words of reassurance. Didn’t hear the curses about her ex. Didn’t even feel when he moved them from standing to sitting in a chair, her on his lap with her face in his neck.

And time passed so swiftly that she couldn’t tell how long they’d been like that once she’d come back to. But it didn’t matter because it heightened her embarrassment of what had occurred and she attempted to escape him, only to be held in place by bony fingers.

Once she stopped fighting Hyungwon removed one of his hands and used it to lift her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Your crying is valid and don’t you dare think otherwise. None of that embarrassed or frustrated bullshit because you deserve to be able to release all that,” Hyungwon said.

Even after years apart he still knew her reactions to being overwhelmed through and through, and in that moment she was eternally grateful.

With a nod from her he didn’t stop there.

“That was unexpected and I’m sorry he was here. I forgot how horrible he could be and then he’s just gotten worse over time. You’d think someone would stop playing those games and trying to mess with people’s mental and emotional stability, but alas here he is. I think his company was planning to do an event here, I’ll tell them we’re canceling it and that he’s the reason. Might even throw in some security footage for good measure.”

YN opened her mouth to object, but Hyungwon gave her a look that shut her up.

“Besides that, and I know this is a horrible time, I want to apologize. The way I acted a week ago was uncalled for. When you said it, I believed you I really did. It was just something that wanted to deny that he would. Not necessarily for my own feelings, though they did come into play. But also, because he’s the one who came to me. I had no interest in him whatsoever, but he was persistent in a way that wasn’t creepy and I thought who would work that hard to just throw it away. Especially when they’d been the one to bring up the subject of marriage recently.

“So, I went on the defense and instead of just checking what you had to say or denying it and moving on I went to the worst possible conclusion. Said things I didn’t believe even as they left my mouth. And thus, for the second time since meeting you hurt you in a way that wasn’t okay in the slightest. And I understand that you may not want to work towards friendship. I like to think we were close to getting back or wanting to deal with me. I just want to apologize because you deserve one and I know I was in the wrong.”

What neither of them expected, least of all YN, was her to start crying again. Her head dropped onto his shoulder and she felt her body shake again as she let it out. Though she could tell he was confused by the way his body tensed, he didn’t say anything and simply rubbed her back gently as she cried it out.

About five minutes later YN spoke.

“You’re a fucking idiot and an asshole.”

Hyungwon laughed. “True. But you know what happened when you tried to get me to be nicer for that month. If we’re being honest you made me worse.”

YN laughed that time, remembering how Hyungwon spent every day being closely watched by her as he tried to not be snarky with people. By the end he’d given up and snapped on some annoying man that wouldn’t leave them be and she was sure she saw tears in his eyes as he ran away from the fuming Hyungwon.

He mellowed out after that, but when someone truly tried him he was a lot more than he used to be. YN marked that as a major fail and stuck to keeping him calm when he rightfully deserved to put someone in their place, which was oddly often at their school.

“Yeah, a mistake on my part. But at least I got you to start counting to ten before you unleashed yourself.”

“Ah yes, what a great help that is. Ten seconds longer of dealing with the idiots.”

They both laughed that time and when they pulled it together they talked. About everything in detail. Nothing was left off the table and by the end YN felt less weight on her shoulders.

By the time they were done about an hour and a half had gone by, meaning they’d been back in the room for over two hours and the bar was shutting down.

“I guess I should go help since I flaked on my shit at the end,” YN said as she got up from Hyungwon’s lap.

At first he nodded and got up too seemingly ready to follow her and the next he was giving her a look and grasping at her wrist.

“What?” she asked, confused.

“You need to talk to them.”

A groan escaped her immediately and her head tilted back as she blew out a puff of air.

“Nope. None of that. Talk to them. Tonight. And don’t be a stubborn brat and not let them finish what they have to say. I’m sure it would clear up a lot of things for her,” Hyungwon said.

There was no use in arguing because he would win and she knew he was right, even if she didn’t want to admit that to herself.

“Fine.”

And that was all it took for him to release her and take the lead on exiting the office. However, YN didn’t get the chance to leave right behind him. The moment Hyungwon was out, both Johnny and Yoongi stumbled in forcing her to take several steps back.

They both appeared nervous and disheveled, which helped calm YN for some reason. Though it didn’t get rid of all the feelings like she would’ve preferred.

“We need to talk. Now. We can’t keep putting it off,” Johnny blurted out.

If YN didn’t know how frazzled he got under pressure she’d be shocked by his actions, much like Yoongi who stared the man down eyes wide, but she’d known Johnny long enough to expect that kind of thing. What she was shocked about is how he didn’t dive into explaining right then and there.

Once she was sure he was done talking and that Yoongi had nothing to say she took over.

“We do need to talk. But it would be better not here. So, after we close up and at the apartment, yeah?”

That appeared to shock Yoongi more and Johnny too. They both probably assumed she’d be resistant or straight up tell them no. Things she debated on for half a second but couldn’t go through with.

“Okay,” they both said.

With that YN patted both of them on the shoulder and headed out to help.

About an hour after that everyone was done and headed out of the door. They said their goodbyes with the staff - and Hyungwon who hugged her while threatening what would happen if she didn’t give either man a chance to talk - then they got in a taxi to go back to the apartment.

Silence prevailed, which made YN awkward since she was sandwiched between them in the back seat, but she didn’t let it take over her. At least not too much. She held strong despite it and managed to make it out of the car and into the apartment without thinking of making a run for it.

The same couldn’t be said for either of the men though. YN hadn’t faced them until she was rid of her jacket and shoes and sat on the love seat, but the moment she did they froze. For a second they stared at each other both expressions unsure, but then they seemed to come to a consensus and finally fully entered the apartment, taking a seat on the couch.

Again, they were immersed in silence, but that only made things more tense.

“Go ahead,” she said.

Thankfully, they didn’t take long to react to that.

“We,” Yoongi started, pausing to look at Johnny before continuing. “We know we’ve done a horrible job at making things clear to you. We’ve been a little secretive and haven’t made the most effort in ensuring you were okay when we saw that something was off. It was a major fuck up on our part, one that could’ve prevented if I hadn’t been so stuck on keeping a certain timeline on how we should talk to you about this. And I’m starting to ramble when it was agreed upon that I would tell you so we could get straight to the point. And oh my fucking goodness, will I stop it already. Okay, basically we both want to date you.”

YN felt her entire body tense as confusion filled her.

“Excuse me?” she said.

That went unheard though.

“That’s not how we agreed you’d say it,” Johnny whined.

Yoongi scoffed. “It is. Well, not exactly but all the words I used were in the agreed upon statement.”

“Maybe, but you could have at least tried to eas-”

“Excuse me!” YN shouted.

That stopped Johnny and got both their attention.

“You don’t get to drop a bomb like that and then not elaborate. Especially to a very confused person whose last week has been trash. Explain yourselves.”

There was another silent moment of them staring at each other and then Yoongi gestured for Johnny to go ahead. Johnny rolled his eyes but turned his full attention to YN before speaking.

“What Yoongi said was true, we do both want to date you. But before you start to spiral and come up with your own conclusions let me fill in a few things. We’ve both known Yoongi for over a year now, you more than me. And he and I have always clicked despite how worried you were that he would slap me upside the head for being too friendly and getting in his space. It’s an easy kinda friendship we’ve had going, but then that day at the bar a few months ago we really clicked. I know we’ve been obvious about the attraction and it’s only built over time.

“The thing is we soon realized that both of us also feel something for you. Those feelings are from before we ever looked at each other that way and despite the growing feelings between us it was still there. Yoongi just about lost his shit when he realized and was very confused. And well, you know that most of my relationships have been poly, so it was nothing new for me. Though still kinda surprising because I thought I’d continue to live my life not acting on feelings for you I’ve felt for years.”

“I’m sorry what?” YN practically screamed.

The interruption earned her a glare which quieted her despite wanting an answer.

“As I was saying. I was planning to not act on them, but then suddenly someone else who I liked felt the same way for you as I did and it felt like a chance. That plus Hyungwon telling me I was an idiot for not realizing the crush you had on me before you got with dickwad back in college after he overheard me talking to Yoongi. But either way everything aligned and after I got Yoongi to accept that this was a viable option we started doing those group hangouts. To us they were test dates, but then we… well we…”

“We realized that we weren’t including you as much as we thought and could tell how third wheeling it felt,” Yoongi said.

Johnny nodded. “Yes, that. We failed to factor in as people who know each other, but don’t know each other and who are using those outings as dates we’d get caught up in each other. Which we realized but didn’t realize how bad until yet again Hyungwon overheard us. Told us we were idiots, because it was clear that you felt something for both of us and yet we were both going around acting like a couple in early days while dragging their friend who didn’t know we liked them around. And then we decided to fix things, but then the falling out with Hyungwon happened and nothing worked so we were unsure of what to do next besides maybe cornering you. So, yeah.”

With the way Johnny so abruptly ended that YN was left unsure of how to proceed. What had been said was a lot to take in. Not because it was wild or out of her comfort zone, but because despite feelings she’d had no time to process her own. She knew how she felt about them both, but she’d never allowed herself to linger on it too long to address how to handle things. And when she found herself finally admitting it things went to shit and she thought the only people she’d been interested in in years were on their way to dating each other without her ever having a real chance of seeing if either of them felt the same way.

Since YN hadn’t gotten that out of the way she definitely had no time to factor in any poly relationship. Like Johnny said she did know he was into it, but Yoongi wasn’t someone she knew well enough to know if he was down for that. He didn’t judge it, but not caring about how people lived their lives and actively participating were two different things.

Just the thought of having that conversation with him made her nervous despite it being more of what he would have done in the past and not in her present since she’d heard that he’d agreed with it. At least that’s what she thought they said. Her brain was frazzled.

“Hold on,” she finally said after minutes of silence. “So, I’m clear. You both want to date me and each other? You just failed to realize that you should’ve gotten to know each other better and go on dates alone, before trying to test out a poly relationship with me without my knowledge?”

“Yes,” Yoongi said while Johnny nodded.

Without warning pillows from the loveseat were in YN’s hands, she was standing, and said pillows were making contact with each male’s body.

“You. Two. Are. Fuckin. Idiots. How. Could. You. Not. Think. That. Through? What. Happened. To. Being. So. Got. Damn. Smart. Huh?”

Each word was spoken in time with the pillows swinging down on them. And though they squirmed they didn’t try to dodge or take them away from her. They let her keep going until she was satisfied.

Upon her clearly giving up her attack they both reach out and pull her down onto the couch so her body stretched out across them.

“Yes, we’re idiots. And we’re sorry about not thinking things through and telling you. But we’re idiots who are smitten with you and would like a chance to date you,” Johnny said, his hand moved to find the spot at the back of her head that she enjoyed being scratched. She didn’t even care that he was messing up her hair a little, just relaxed into the feeling.

“Ditto,” Yoongi said.

That drew glares from Johnny and YN, which he responded to by throwing his hands in the air in surrender.

“We are really sorry. And if you could let us date you, it would make me very happy,” he said.

His second response sated both of them and they relaxed back into their little moment. And as time ticked by they all grew more comfortable. There was more to talk about, but they cleared the space and it was clear they were all relieved. YN most of all.

Though she tried not to show it, YN felt giddy and wanted to giggle as she watched them both interact with each other and her. So much so that it slipped out when they both leaned over to press kisses to her cheeks. It seemed to amuse them, but she was so embarrassed she slipped away to change and scolded herself for the behavior. Not that she didn’t do it again when her mind replayed what happened.

They spent the rest of the night watching TV and eating food they’d ordered. It was peaceful and comfortable, so much so that they almost fell asleep on the couch.

Two in the morning rolled around before they all dragged feet to climb in Johnny’s bed and knock out. YN wanted to sleep on the outside of the bed, but ended up sandwiched between the both of them, not that she complained about it.

Once they were all comfortable they said their good nights and tried to sleep, but one adjustment by Johnny against her ass had YN slapping his arm.

“You cannot possibly be hard right now,” she whined.

Johnny pressed closer after that, grinding his dick against her ass more.

“You can’t possibly be calling me out on it right now as if it hasn’t happened before,” he mumbled.

“And both of you can’t possibly be having this conversation while I try to sleep. Go to bed before the next thing you’re both complaining about is how bruised and sore your asses are,” Yoongi chimed in.

Though it was meant as a means to shut them up all it did was elicit whimpers from both of them at the thought. That’s when Yoongi sat up and stared down at them and even in the dark they could see the smirk.

“Oh, you like that do you?”

They both nodded eagerly.

“Then strip.”

Neither of them had ever moved so fast in their lives and it was beyond worth it. Complaining was kept to a minimum the next day, but only because Yoongi took very good care of his babies and made sure to kiss their booboos all better.

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