#but the thrill of getting a reply is different and something i've caught myself looking for multiple times a day recently

[tripably]

I'm honestly pathetic enough to keep checking my email just to see if there are any new ao3 mails because every time a fic author replies to a silly lil comment I've left on their work, my brain goes "THIS IS GREAT. I'M GOING TO GET A GOOD GRADE IN COMMENTING ON FIC, SOMETHING THAT IS BOTH NORMAL TO WANT AND POSSIBLE TO ACHIEVE" and I seem to live in a perpetual state of craving such academic validation

[graneymar]

#1. NEYMAR: Bitter taste

SUMMARY: You and Neymar have been dating for only a few months when there were rumours about you being on vacation with your ex.

WARNINGS: angst

PAIRING: Neymar x female reader

Neymars POV:

Impossible. This can't be real. She would never do that. She loves me. I kept looking at the pictures and videos Y/N's ex posted on instagram a few days ago. She told me she'd be on vacation with her mother, but seemingly my fans knew better. They found recent pictures of her and her ex in Malta. I couldn't take my eyes off those pictures and stories. Pictures and videos of them at the beach together, clubbing, hugging, even kissing. Of course these images went viral instantly. Everyone was talking about how the "former playboy" Neymar Jr. got cheated on himself this time. Some people called it my karma, saying I deserved it. Others wished Y/N death in the comment section. But me? I felt nothing, pure emptiness. No emotions, no feelings. No sadness, no anger, nothing. Looking at her in these photos, I couldn't even recognize her as the woman I loved so much. She seemed so different. Her facial expressions, her gestures, her whole behavior. Who is she? Have I been really giving my all to someone I didn't actually know at the end of the day?

"Sinto muito irmão", Cris, one of my closest friends, texted me [I'm very sorry, bro]. Obviously he heard about the news already. I didn't even have the power or nerve to respond.

I was sitting outside on the terrace. It was about 8pm and Y/N was supposed to get here in about two hours. In those eight months we were together we have never been apart from each other for so long. We always managed to at least see each other at the weekends. Now she has been gone for three weeks and to be honest, I didn't even want her to come back. Thinking about how jealous she always used to be, how scared she was of losing me, and now it was her I saw in the arms of someone else.

I walked around the apartment, trying to find something to distract myself. The bottle of red wine I planned to drink with Y/N tonight caught my eye finally. Sinking into the couch I opened the bottle and couldn't stop myself from taking one sip after another. My family and friends called and texted me non-stop, reaching out to make sure I was alright, but I didn't want to talk to anyone. I switched my phone off and continued gazing at the TV that wasn't even on. All I saw was my reflection, sitting on the couch with a bottle of wine in my hands. Like a damn fool.

Soon enough, the second bottle was opened and I started feeling a little tipsy. No, I can't be here when she arrives. I can not stand looking or talking to her now. "Hey Kylian, what's up? Wanna go out tonight?", I called him after switching on my phone again, ignoring all the messages and missed calls. "Do you really think it’s a good idea to go out clubbing? Y/N will be there soon, you should probably talk it out", he replied.

"This is exactly what I don’t want and need. I've been sitting here overthinking it all for hours now. I need some distraction." It was clear to me that Kylian wasn't thrilled, but in the end, he agreed to get some drinks with me.

Y/Ns POV:

I could barely hold back a squeal of happiness the moment I opened the door to Neymars house. Three weeks without him felt like a year to me. I never thought I would miss someone so much.

Why are all the lights turned off? Weird. I expected him to wait for me, but didn't think of anything bad as I assumed he probably fell asleep on the couch, but no, he didn't. The only thing I saw were two empty bottles of red wine and a third one open. I laughed to myself "He really couldn’t wait and got drunk before I even arrived, hm?" Being sure that he already dozed off in the bedroom, I entered quietly, only to find the room empty. I slowly started worrying. Where the hell was he? What was going on? Is this another one of his stupid pranks? I tried to switch on my phone to see if he texted me anything, but the battery was dead. As I was looking for a charger, I noticed a little note at the side of my bed and picked it up.

I hope you had a great vacation with (your ex's name). Pack your stuff and be gone by tomorrow morning.

What the fuck? Where did this come from? My heart was racing, I started panicking. "Come on, come on, come on", I said as I tried to turn on my phone once more. A sigh of relief escaped my lips when I finally was able to type in my code. I tried calling Neymar, but as expected, he didn't pick up. After the probably 7th call I decided to check if he posted something on his instagram story, revealing where he would be or what he was doing. He didn’t post anything, but Kylian did. He was out with Neymar, in some kind of club. Suddenly I got a text from my best friend. "Uhm, why is (your ex's name) posting pictures of you two together? Aren’t these old?" What did he do? I knew he never liked seeing Neymar and me together, but making up rumours?! For what? Did he really think I'd go back to him after he tried to destroy my relationship?

I searched (your ex's name) up on instagram and was in shock. He indeed posted pictures and videos of us together in Malta from a year ago. I scrolled through the comments. Some people were making of Neymar, saying he deserved to get played after everything he has allegedly done to women. But most of them wished me death, stating they expected me to cheat, I am so fake, I never loved Neymar but his money and fame only.

The tears started rolling down my cheeks as I sat down on the bed. How could he ever think I would actually cheat on him? Didn’t I show how much I loved him? Wasn’t I doing enough for him and our relationship? Glancing at the note he wrote once more, I shook my head. I wouldn’t just leave him like this. Not for some stupid cheating rumours.

Neymars POV:

I decided to spend the night at Kylians house, giving Y/N the opportunity to leave before I'd get home. Normally, going out with friends and drinking always distracted me for at least a few hours, but it didn’t help me at all last night. Quite the opposite even. My eyes were still red and puffy from all the crying. My throat was burning due to the amount of alcohol I drank.

Entering the house I could still smell her fragrance. I took a deep breath, knowing this was the last time I would be "that" close to her. Looking around I realised there really wasn’t any of her belongings, meaning she most probably read the note and left like I told her to. "Oh shit", I whispered to myself as I entered the living room, seeing the bottles of wine that left a disgusting smell. As a consequence of the heavy drinking from last night, I couldn’t stand to smell any form of alcohol, so I decided to spend some minutes on the terrace. To my surprise, the door stood open. I stepped out and saw Y/N sitting on the bench, drinking coffee. "What are you doing here?", I harshly asked, "I told you to leave by the morning."

"And you really think I would just leave you like that?" Her eyes were as red and puffy as mine. She looked like she hasn’t slept the whole night. My heart would actually break seeing her cry, especially knowing I was the reason, but this time I didn't even care. "Well, you really should since I fucking told you to." The tears in her eyes were forming again as she looked away from me. "Have you at least packed your bags?", I asked her. She shook her head from left to right. "Then I'm going to do it for you", I said going inside.

"Neymar", Y/N shouted following me. I opened the door to her closet and started taking her stuff out. "Can you at least hear me out? I just want to explain it all to you." I looked at her in disbelief and laughed sarcastically. "I don't need an explanation. Everything I need to know, I saw."

"But it isn’t true Neymar, I didn’t cheat on you." I let out an annoyed moan. "You want to tell me these pictures are photoshopped? You met him by accident and then decided to spend your vacation with him so you wouldn’t get bored with your mom? Honestly, just drop it. I don’t wanna hear shit from you." Watching her breaking down in tears made me swallow very hard, but I couldn’t give in, not after her cheating on me with her ex. "The pictures and videos he posted are old. It was on his birthday, last year."

"Mhm, and it’s just a coincidence you've been there on his birthday again right?"

"Actually, yes. You know he lives there. The year I've been with him I was there all the time. I even thought of moving there. Trust me, I don't give a damn about him anymore. I just fell in love with the island." We remained silent for a moment, while I continued to throw her belongings into a random suitcase I found. "I don't know how to prove it to you, Ney. I deleted all those pictures as soon as we got together. I can’t even show you they’re old." No response from me. "He always wanted to tear us apart because he knew you were the real reason I left him."

"Congratulations to him. He succeeded", I coldly replied. She took out her phone and started scrolling, "Here." From the corner of my eye, I saw her holding her phone up. "Y/N, I don't want to see anything. I don't even care anymore. We're done."

"But this is undeniable proof that he is lying", her voice got louder, which made me raise an eyebrow at her. "Undenibale proof you say, huh?" I took the phone out of her hand and saw her instagram story archive. The same pictures and videos he posted a few days ago. My heart stopped for a second when I saw the date. Over a year ago. Not even able to look at her, I handed her her phone back. I couldn’t say a word, I felt so stupid. "But if you wish for me to leave, I will", she broke the silence, ripping her stuff out of my hand, "I just wanted to let you know that I would never cheat on you and if you still decide to go separate ways, it’s okay. Just please know that I really do love you and could never do anything to hurt you." I watched her filling the suitcase with her clothes. "And for your future relationships, you should really consider talking to your girlfriend first before leaving her without even giving her a chance to explain herself", she somehow managed to say inbetween her sobs. "Y/N, baby…" I softly hugged her from behind and turned her around. She buried her face in my chest and started crying even harder. "I'm so sorry. I can’t believe I even thought you would do that to me. He just made everything seem so legit and real." We just stood there, no one saying a word until she calmed down a little. "I love you Neymar, I love you so much. How could you even believe it for a second?" she spoke up.

"I didn’t at first, but… what would you think? I knew you were actually there and all of a sudden these photos appear on his instagram. And it’s not even a year ago that you broke up with him. I was scared you could possibly go back." Y/N finally looked up, staring right into my eyes. "I love you, you idiot", she said before pecking my lips quickly. "I love you too." I wiped away her tears with my thumb. "How about we'll take a nap, order food later and watch some movies? I think none of us really slept this night." She yawned as she nodded. "Sounds good to me."

[zapreportsblog]

The BarMaid

➥ summary: The Garrison Pub gets a new hire and Thomas feels an attraction towards them

➥ one shot

The dimly lit room of the Garrison Pub was filled with the sounds of clinking glasses and boisterous laughter. Thomas Shelby, the charismatic leader of the Shelby family and the Peaky Blinders, sat at his usual table, his mind occupied with the day's business. The recent expansion of their operations had kept him preoccupied, but tonight, something changed.

As Thomas glanced up from his paperwork, his eyes were drawn to the entrance of the pub. There stood a woman, (Y/n), a new barmaid recently hired by Polly Gray, Thomas's aunt and a crucial member of the Shelby family. Something about her caught his attention—a spark of mischief in her eyes and a confidence in her demeanor.

(Y/n) moved gracefully through the pub, serving drinks with ease. Her presence commanded attention, and Thomas found himself unable to tear his gaze away. There was an air of mystery surrounding her—a certain allure that fascinated him.

One evening, as the pub started to fill with patrons, Thomas decided to take a break from his work and approach (Y/n). He sauntered up to the bar, his eyes fixed on her, and a small smile playing on his lips.

"Evening, (Y/n)," he greeted, his voice low and smooth. "You've settled in well. The patrons seem to enjoy your company."

(Y/n) looked up, a playful glint in her eyes as she leaned against the bar. "I aim to please, Mr. Shelby," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of mischief.

Thomas was intrigued by her confidence. He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a husky whisper. "Tell me, (Y/n), what brings a woman like you to a place like this?"

She chuckled softly, her gaze meeting his with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine. "Perhaps I'm drawn to the thrill, the danger, the men who run the show," she replied, her words laced with a daring undertone.

Thomas was captivated. There was something magnetic about (Y/n), something that made his heart race and his senses come alive. In that moment, he realized that he wanted to know her more, to unravel the mystery that surrounded her.

As the days turned into weeks, Thomas and (Y/n) found themselves drawn to each other like moths to a flame. Their interactions grew more frequent, filled with subtle glances and stolen moments of conversation. They discovered shared interests, a connection that went beyond the walls of the pub.

One evening, as the pub emptied and the atmosphere grew quiet, Thomas found himself alone with (Y/n). He mustered the courage to express what he had been feeling, the vulnerability he seldom showed.

"(Y/n), there's something about you that has captured my attention," he admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of hesitation and sincerity. "I find myself drawn to you, in ways I can't quite explain."

She regarded him with a soft smile, her eyes reflecting warmth and affection. "Thomas, I've felt it too. There's a spark between us, an undeniable connection. I've been waiting for you to say something."

Thomas reached out, his hand gently cupping her cheek. "Then let's explore this connection, (Y/n). Let's see where it takes us."

(Y/n) nodded, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I would like that, Thomas."

In that moment, their worlds collided. The lines between business and personal matters blurred as they embarked on a journey of love and passion.

“Tell me (y/n), humor me if you will; but would you like to go out on a date?”

“Hmm in suppose I can humor you by agreeing.”

•••

The sun began to set over the gritty streets of Birmingham as Thomas Shelby meticulously dressed for his long-awaited date with (Y/n). Tonight was the night he had planned to show her a different side of the city—a side filled with elegance and sophistication.

As Thomas waited for (Y/n) to arrive, he couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. He had meticulously planned every detail of the evening, determined to impress her and create a memory that would last a lifetime.

Moments later, he heard a knock on the door. Opening it, Thomas found (Y/n) standing there, her radiant smile filling his heart with warmth. She looked breathtaking in a carefully selected dress, her eyes shimmering with excitement.

"Good evening, Thomas," she greeted, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "I must say, you clean up quite nicely."

He returned her smile, his eyes glimmering with admiration. "And you, (Y/n), look absolutely stunning. Shall we?"

With a nod, (Y/n) took his outstretched arm, and together they made their way towards a sleek black car waiting just outside. Thomas had arranged for a private driver to take them to their destination—a prestigious restaurant known for its exquisite cuisine and intimate atmosphere.

As they entered the restaurant, the scent of fine food and the soft melodies of a live jazz band enveloped them. Thomas led (Y/n) to a private table, tucked away in a secluded corner. Candlelight flickered, casting a warm glow on their faces as they settled in.

Throughout the evening, they indulged in delectable dishes, savoring each bite while engaging in conversation that flowed effortlessly. The walls they had built around themselves began to crumble, replaced by a genuine connection that left them yearning for more.

Between courses, Thomas reached across the table, gently taking (Y/n)'s hand in his. "You know, (Y/n), I haven't felt this way in a long time. Being with you feels... different. It feels right," he admitted, his voice filled with vulnerability.

(Y/n) met his gaze, her eyes filled with understanding and affection. "I feel the same way, Thomas. This night, this moment, it's something I never expected, but I'm grateful for it. I'm grateful for you," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity.

Their fingers intertwined, creating an unbreakable bond—a connection that defied the chaos of their respective lives. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the undeniable chemistry between them.

As the night wore on, they exchanged laughter, shared stories, and danced to the gentle rhythms of the jazz band. Each moment deepened their connection, solidifying their newfound love.

When the evening finally drew to a close, Thomas escorted (Y/n) back to the car, his arm protectively around her. The night had been everything he had hoped for—a magical experience that had brought them closer.

As they stood outside her door, Thomas looked into (Y/n)'s eyes, his gaze filled with tenderness. "Thank you for tonight, (Y/n). I can't remember the last time I felt so alive, so content. You have brought light into my life," he expressed, his voice filled with gratitude.

(Y/n) smiled, her heart swelling with affection. "Thomas, this evening has been incredible. I'm grateful for the moments we've shared and for the person you are. I look forward to what the future holds for us," she replied, her voice filled with hope.

With a gentle kiss on her cheek, Thomas bid her goodnight. He watched as she entered her home, her smile lingering in his mind. As he walked away, a newfound sense of purpose filled his steps. He knew that, with (Y/n) by his side, anything was possible.

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twelve)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: Thank you to those who have liked the story so far, I appreciate you all so much. 

Nine Inch Nails - Home

Everything

Is catching up with me

I awake

To find I'm not at all where I

Should be

And it feels

I'm getting to the end

And it's hard

To figure out what's real, and what's

Pretend

To break from what we're tied to

God knows how much I've tried to

And I am still inside you

And I am still inside you

I escape

Every now and then

And to think

I find myself back here again

And again

I used to know who I was

Until you came along

I return

To the only place I've ever felt

That I belong

To break from what we're tied to

God knows how much I've tried to

And I am still inside you

And I am still inside you

He was fucking miserable. Being overseas was never really a chore for him, if anything, he loved it more than being stuck on base running drills. He loved the thrill of being in combat, loved flexing his skills, loved the way his blood pumped faster though his system. Made him feel alive which wasn't a feeling he was used to. But now Charlotte existed in his life and he'd felt alive since the moment he laid eyes on her. Now it was different. Now deployment didn't just mean action and combat, it meant being away from her. 

The hardest part was the lack of contact. She'd sent him some letters and he'd sent some back, but waiting for a fucking reply took forever and they were seldom allowed to use phones. He'd had one phone call with her and it had been painful to hear her sniffle down the phone as she told him she missed him. He'd wanted to take her mind off it and also needed a distraction himself from the heavy shit he was faced with on deployment, so he'd asked her to read to him. She'd picked her Grimm's fairy tales, Little Red Riding Hood to be specific. It wasn't his phone, they weren't allowed mobiles here and so he couldn't speak to her for as long as he wanted. Now the letters were all he had to look forward to. 

He had to admit it felt good though, this was his first deployment where he actually had mail. He didn't have to watch on the sidelines anymore as all his squad mates got letters and packages and he got fuck all. Those letters meant the world to him and each one was stored under his mattress. He was sure she was spraying them with her perfume because each time he opened the fucking envelopes he got smacked in the face with her scent and it hurt and comforted him all at the same time. 

Fuck, he missed her. He missed her to the point of it being pathetic. He couldn't wait to get back to her, to just lay with her and breathe her in. It wasn't just the sex he was missing and the absence only made that clearer for him. It was just her. Her smile, her laugh, her sly cheeky comments when she had a bout of confidence, her blush when she was feeling shy, how she devoured her bacon butties like she'd never eat again, the way her face lit up every time she saw him, how she felt all warm and soft in his arms. He missed all of it. 

He was lay miserably on his cot as the squad had some down time. While the others seemed to appreciate it, he didn't so much. It just meant more time to think, to dwell on the gut wrenching yearning he felt for his girl back home. His CO came through the barracks, calling names and chucking out letters. Simon sat up eagerly, hoping he'd get something as he watched others be handed their post. 

“Riley!” The man called out, tossing the letter to him and Simon caught it easily. He ripped the envelope open, once more engulfed in her scent as he pulled the letter out. 

Simon,

I hope you're doing okay over there. The apartment’s not the same without you here and I can't wait for you to get home. Only two weeks left, at least when I'm writing this. 

It's really boring without you here to keep me entertained. I've been talking to the succulents, I read a study once that talking to them helps them grow better or something. Or maybe I'm just losing my mind all on my own. Sylvie took pity on me. I didn't think I was so obviously miserable but apparently I'm not a good actress. She's been making me eat a meal at work before I go home. She said she was worried I won't feed myself since you're gone. I'm sure she thinks I don't know how to cook and that you're the one that feeds me. I do prefer your bacon butties though. 

All your shirts stopped smelling like you now. I debated whether or not to break into your place to steal your aftershave. That was a joke by the way. I don't want you thinking I'm a crazy girlfriend. Not yet at least ;) 

I really can't wait for you to get back. I feel like a broken record because I keep saying it, but I miss you. I might just have to take the day off when you get home so I can just cling to you all day. I've been distracting myself with more artwork when I'm not working. I just finished a really nice landscape piece based on Clayton Vale. I'm pretty proud of it. Have you ever been there? I know Clayton isn't the nicest place to live but I grew up there and the Vale is so pretty. I used to forage blackberries when they were in season when I was younger. If you haven't been, I should take you sometime. 

I can't believe it's been almost half a year since I've seen you. It's insane. It feels like it's dragged by so slowly yet gone by in the blink of an eye. This is probably the last letter you'll get from me. By the time you get this and then reply, you'll be on your way home. 

Make sure you stay safe out here, I need you to come back to me. Who else would I annoy all the time if you were gone? 

Charlotte

x

He smiled to himself, almost being able to picture her as she sat there scribbling the note out for him. When he'd first gotten here, part of him had been worried she'd tire of his absence and move on. She hadn't though, of course she hadn't. He realised quickly how loyal she was and he really couldn't wait to get back home. 

It was odd to him really, he'd had an epiphany while out here. Home wasn't his apartment, nor was it really Manchester. Home was with her, wherever that might be. He'd never felt so strongly about anyone before and it was something his brain was coming to terms with, being in love. Made him feel like an entirely different man sometimes but he didn't think that was a bad thing. He moved to grab a pad and a pen, sitting up in his cot as he started penning a note back to her. His stomach clenched in anticipation, knowing when she read this he wouldn't be far behind. 

Hello love,

I fucking miss you. Hope that's not too sappy to say but it's true. Been weird for me here because I've never really had anyone to miss. Not anyone that wasn't family and not this intensely. 

I'm glad Sylvie is looking after you though. Nice to know someone's got their eye on you while I'm not around. I'd love to see your artwork someday. You've not shared it with me yet but I'm eager to see it. I know they'll be beautiful. I've never been Clayton Vale but I've been by it a fair few times. I'd love to go with you someday. 

Next time I'm on deployment I'll make sure to give you the whole aftershave so you don't have to worry about the shirts. I wouldn't mind stealing your perfume, although I do appreciate the letters smelling like you. Can���t wait for the real deal though. I don't think I've ever been so excited to get off deployment before. I get two weeks off after this too so I can't wait for us to spend time together. We should have some bacon butties and a good cuddle. 

I won't say too much more because I'll be with you real soon. Just make sure you look after yourself, yeah? I can't wait to see you, love. Hopefully I won't be deployed for a good while after this. Being away from you for so long has killed me. 

I'll see you soon, sweetheart,

Simon

He grabbed an envelope from the pile where the others were also writing their letters, scribbling her address on it before he folded up the letter and put it inside. The closer he got to going home, the more anxious he got. The home stretch. He really couldn't wait to finally be back with her. 

To say he was eager would be a gross understatement. He was practically buzzing with the amount of energy he had, despite being absolutely fucking knackered. Of course with his luck, the taxi driver was taking his time. Something that was a rarity in these parts, but since he had somewhere he desperately needed to be, it was taking its sweet time. When the taxi finally pulled up outside of the florists, he chucked the man his money before he hopped out. He’d almost come right here but he wanted to shower and get changed into something more comfortable, settling on black sweats and a black long sleeve t-shirt. The September air was starting to get a bit colder now and it was a far cry from the severe heat he’d experienced only the day before. 

His usual routine when he got home from deployment was to go and see his mum first, but he’d called her this time, wondering how he was going to let her down because he really needed to see Charlotte before he burst. His mum was onto him though, telling him before he could get word out that he better be going to see his girl and not to bother with her. 

“I’ve had enough of your mug anyway, Simon,” she’d told him affectionately. He appreciated it. Without a guilty conscience weighing on him, he’d been free to go running off to Lottie as soon as he’d gotten changed. 

He finally stood at her door, checking his watch quickly to make sure he hadn't turned up here while she was still at work like a right numpty, it was a Thursday after all. It was 7.30 pm so he knew she’d be home. He inhaled a deep breath, his stomach feeling like it was plummeting right out of him. He wasn't used to such a sensation and his hand went over his stomach for a moment as if to steady it. 

His other hand came up to her door, knocking firmly as he stood fidgeting. The door opened and there she was in all her glory, in her pyjamas which meant his shirt and a pair of shorts and her hair tossed up haphazardly on the top of her head. She was fucking beautful. Her eyes widened when she saw him, a beaming smile overtaking her face. He hadn't told her he was coming back today because he’d wanted to surprise her.

“Simon!” she cried out happily, throwing herself at him. He caught her effortlessly, wrapping his arms around her tightly as a hand came to cradle the back of her head. The relief he felt was maddening. Like an addict getting their fix of heroin after six months of going cold turkey. He physically felt his muscles unwind, the weight of the world leaving his shoulders as she melted into him.

“Fuckin’ hell, I missed you, love,” he breathed, pressing his nose into her hair and inhaling deeply. 

“I missed you too,” she replied, her voice muffled because she pressed her face so much into his chest, he was sure she’d break through his ribs. They stood in her doorway for a long while, just holding each other and now he was here with her, the tiredness started to take hold of him, the adrenaline wearing off. 

As if sensing his growing tiredness, she pulled away, leaning up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. She went to move away but he grabbed her, one hand on her hip, the other gripping her jaw as he deepened the kiss. He felt like he was taking the first sip of water after a trek in the desert. She moaned into the kiss, her hands grasping at his top as she allowed him to devour her mouth. He couldn't help it, he'd missed this more than he could ever put into words. 

He pulled away, his heart hammering away in his chest and making him feel a little light headed. She gave him a pretty smile that made his knees weak and he brushed his nose against hers. He hadn't expected her to tear up at the small motion but that's exactly what she did. He decided that seeing her tearful was the worst thing in the world. 

“Hey, love. What’s wrong?” he asked gently, brows furrowing as he stroked her cheek.

“I just… I missed you,” she whispered and it made his pathetic heart squeeze tightly. 

She'd said it so sincerely and it left no doubt in his mind that she'd missed him as much as he'd missed her. Maybe even more because he'd been overseas surrounded by people and she had no one other than her brief interactions at work. He'd already felt like he was going mad over there with how much he missed her but if he was stuck here alone like she'd been, he was sure he would have completely lost it.

“Well I’m here now, yeah? You got me all to yourself for two weeks,” he murmured, hoping to lighten her spirits a little. It worked as she gave him a teary smile, leaning into his hand. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before guiding her inside and she went willingly. 

“Are you hungry?” she asked, wiping at her eyes and seemingly putting herself together. 

“I could eat,” he confessed. He was really fucking hungry if he was honest but he’d just turned up out of the blue, he didn't want to pressure her into feeding him. 

“Bacon butties and a cuddle?” she asked hopefully and his mind flashed back to his last letter to her. All of hers were now safely in a box at his apartment. His heart softened as he looked at her, an affectionate smile curling his lips. 

“Sounds like heaven, love,” he smiled and her eyes brightened at his words. 

“You sit down and rest,” she ordered, giving him a peck on the cheek before she pushed him towards the couch and flit off to the kitchen area. 

He did as he was told, shattered from the journey home and the hard times he’d had while away. Her couch was comfy, so plush it felt like it was swallowing him when he sat on it. It was a far cry from his cot back overseas or the hard ground. He eased back into it, eyes closing for a brief moment as he allowed himself to fully unwind and decompress. 

“Simon,” Charlotte’s soft murmur had him opening his eyes, seeing her standing in front of him with a plate of bacon butties. He frowned in confusion, he’d only closed his eyes a second ago.

“What…?” he mumbled, blinking rapidly and glancing at the clock. 

“Sleepy head,” she snorted, rubbing a hand through his hair sweetly. He grabbed the plate with one hand, the other rubbing his eyes.

“Sorry, love,” he frowned. She sat beside him, grabbing a butty from the mountain on the plate.

“Don’t be, I know you must be tired. We can eat then get in bed, cuddle and just sleep all we want. I’ll book the day off tomorrow,” she smiled up at him. 

The idea of just cuddling in bed with her sounded amazing and he shot her a tired smile before starting in on his food. He really had missed this, even if it was such a simple thing. It almost felt like it was their thing, something they shared from their first morning together. When they’d eaten their food, she grabbed the plates and took them over to the kitchen area. 

“Get ready for bed, Si,” she ordered softly as she started to quickly wash the plates. The casual use of his nickname made his heart flutter like the wings of a hummingbird. His lips quirked up a little but he didn't say anything, didn't want to point out she used it and have her get flustered and not use it again. He liked the familiarity it brought with it, liked the feeling of them growing closer. She was his and he was hers. 

He took his shoes off, setting them neatly by the door before he made his way to the bed area, peeling off his shirt. He placed it on the dresser, his eyes being drawn to a card on the nightstand.

“What's this?” he asked, picking it up before she replied. It was a birthday card. It had a dinosaur on it with the phrase: ‘Wishing you a rawr-some birthday!’ He opened it, looking at the writing inside.

“To Charlotte

Happy Birthday. We hope you have a nice day.

Lots of love

Sylvie and Jeff.”

He furrowed his brows, turning to look at Charlotte who was walking over, a guilty look on her face. She took the card and set it down, unable to look at him and he suddenly felt like he’d swallowed a fucking boulder.

“Charlotte… When was your birthday?” he asked slowly and she shifted on her feet.

“August 31st,” she murmured contritely. His brows furrowed even more, glancing from her to the card and then back to her.

“Why didn't you say anythin’? I woulda got you a present, got it delivered while I was away,” he couldn't disguise the hurt from his voice and she winced. He hated that she was alone on her birthday, that all she had to show for it was one measly card off her boss. It made him sad and suddenly, he felt like the world's worst boyfriend. But how was he to know? She hadn't said anything, not in any of the letters or the one phone call.

“I didn't… I didn't wanna bother you while you were away,” she admitted, wringing her hands. 

He blinked at her for a moment, trying to ignore the burning in his chest. He wondered if she’d ever shake that feeling of being a burden to those around her that her parents had instilled in her so early on in life. It broke his heart that she thought so little of herself. He shook his head, cupping her cheeks and forcing her to look at him.

“I don't know how many times I gotta say it, Lottie, but you're never a bother to me. Your birthday is special to me because you're special to me,” he insisted. He watched as her brows pinched together and she licked her lower lip. She had that look on her face again, where she wanted to argue with him because she couldn't agree with him on this, but choosing against it. Smart girl.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. He kissed her temple, his thumbs stroking her cheeks before he let her go. 

“I wish you could see what I see when I look at you,” he murmured sadly. Her cheeks turned pink and she looked away, uncomfortable with the attention. He took pity on her then, he wasn't here to push her boundaries or make her uncomfortable. 

“Come on,” he ushered her into the bed and she climbed in, shuffling over so he could get in beside her. He lay on his back and he opened out his arm for her. She scooted over instantly, laying her head on his chest with her arm around him and he wound his arms around her, one hand going to her head and rubbing her scalp soothingly. 

It was such an amazing sensation to be lay with her like this again. Such a simple comfort in his life but one he'd never take for granted. They lay like that for a bit and he felt his eyes getting tired again. He really couldn't believe he'd missed her birthday, it left a really bitter taste in his mouth. He pictured her coming home from work on her birthday and spending the night alone. How fucking depressing was that? He might not have been able to be there with her, but he could have at least sent her a gift so she knew he was thinking of her. Hell, he'd have begged his CO for a chance to ring her just to wish her happy birthday. 

He blew out a sigh, holding her closer before planting a kiss to the top of her head. There wasn't much to be done about it now and he didn't want it to sour his mood at being back. He allowed himself to relax with her, to enjoy that he was finally with her again. No amount of perfume on letters would ever top the real thing, though he had appreciated it at the time.

“Thank you, love,” he murmured sleepily as his eyes fluttered shut.

“What for?” she asked quietly, sounding tired herself as she lay completely relaxed against him as if she were made of liquid. 

“Bein’ here… bein’ you. I’m just glad I have you to come home to,” he admitted, feeling a little vulnerable with the amount of emotions he was feeling. He really wasn't used to all this. He felt so much and had no idea what he should divulge and what was better to keep to himself. He felt her smile, her cheek pressing against his chest and she snuggled into him more. 

“I’m glad I have you too,” she replied softly and his lips tugged into a sleepy smile. 

It was mad really, how being with her like this made everything alright. His tormented past didn't matter, the horrors he faced overseas didn't matter. None of it mattered when he got to come home to her and have her in his arms. He remembered when Tommy had deduced that he loved her and he had been confused. Part of him felt like that had to be what he was feeling because what else could it be? But he'd never had this before, love didn't come easy to him even when it had come from his family. He'd never had actual feelings for other people before. Hell, it had been hard enough conjuring up some lust for his one night stands in the past. 

Lottie though, she was something else entirely. He'd felt something so visceral from the moment he'd laid eyes on her and it had only continued to grow with time. He'd never been one to believe in love at first sight. In his head, how could you fall in love with someone when you didn't even know them, by just looks alone? Yet hadn't that been what happened to him? He'd been sitting at that bus stop, minding his own business when he was suddenly struck with Cupid's arrow and his entire life hadn't been the same since. 

Laying here with her now after six gruelling months without her, he knew the feeling that lay deep in his chest and he knew it without question. There was nothing else it could be. He loved her, without a doubt. It was a scary realisation to have because love could get you hurt, yet he couldn't muster up enough to care about it. He was happy for the first time in his miserable life and he didn't want that to change, didn't want that feeling to end. 

He knew if he was ever without Charlotte, his life would go back to being cold and meaningless. He'd go back to being a soldier and nothing more. A hollow empty shell of his former self. He'd do whatever it took to keep her by his side because he needed her like he needed air to breathe or blood to keep pumping through his veins. She was his air, she was his blood, she was his everything. She was his reason to be here, she'd given him a reason to feel alive and he wouldn't take it for granted.

[todayisafridaynight]

Sorry about the late reply haha, but I'm absolutely thrilled to hear you enjoyed reading my last ask!

About RGGJo (I've been been calling him a variant of that for ages too, but if I ever slip up and call him Jou, it's out of habit; I like to differentiate them by RGGO and 7's different official romanizations lol), I'd actually say it's not at all hyperbolic to describe him as relaxed. If you ever have a moment, I think going through his voice lines is one of the best ways to get acquainted with his character in a short time! (Article might be a little rough, I basically speedran it all in a day just to show you lol; also a lot of them are uh........ let's say borderline flirtatious)

That said, it is much less apparent before the timeskip. To go on a bit (or a lot) of a tangent, I think that kind of relates to something I've noticed about their relationship with authority. Which is to say, it feels like they have a tendency to walk on eggshells with regard to authority figures. I think that might be the single most consistent thing between their characterizations.

You do see that directly with Arakawa, of course. It's something established really early on for both of them. You can tell right away from Jo's sheepish look when Arakawa walks in on the yubitsume fiasco or RGGJo freezing up when Arakawa walks in on the equivalent scene that he's someone they genuinely seek approval from as an authority figure. And, y'know, 7 has that micro-interaction with Arakawa only needing to put a hand on Jo's shoulder to stop him, whereas RGGO has Mitsu directly stating that the only person who's able to calm him down when he's on a rampage is Arakawa. Honorable mention to the substory where Ichi stops RGGJo from killing some guy by saying it'd put Arakawa in a bad mood.

But I think the clearest example sort-of-outside of Arakawa, one that's more insightful with regard to authority in general (since you could say of course he respects Arakawa specifically), is actually from Ryuji's RGGO story. There was a fair amount of confusion, right, because it's canon to the console timeline, but they hadn't implemented the Arakawa Family's 7 sprites, and they used the RGGO ones. So the funny thing is, I could tell right away that everyone was supposed to be their 7 selves based on characterization

I did take the time to look over all of RGGJo's voice lines from the link you provided oh my god you weren't kidding about making quick edits i checked the log date and you were making changes just a few hours ago, bless you and your work fr and yeah no, his voice lines definitely give off a different feel from Y7Jo (and definitely no joke about the more 'flirtatious' lines- evidently as someone who's mostly perceived Y7Jo it's jarring to say the least. Not that I'm complaining, it's incredibly interesting to see the difference)! It's almost funny to me how different their personalities seem, I wonder what made RGG decide to conceal his more 'playful' personality..

In regards to his relationship with authority- or I guess I want to talk more specifically about with Arakawa- the backstory each Jo has offers different avenues for explanation as to why he's so readily obedient.

I have to make a disclaimer right now and say I'm not totally caught up on Ichi's RGGO story (I stopped just after their fight on the rooftop), so maybe more background to Jo is given. Nevertheless, for RGGJo, his reasons for being obedient aren't exactly clear aside from respecting Arakawa's influence/power (as noted by his irezumi, I'm pretty sure). On that note though, I haven't seen the bit from Ryuji's story- something I'm definitely going to look into once I get some time this week (and it's neat that the Jo's are distinct enough from each other that you can discern which iteration it's supposed to be despite the sprite used: I'm excited to see that for myself!).

Inversely, the context that Arakawa has been taking care of Jo's son offers a more concrete form of an explanation as to why he's compliant. It's not bad to assume I think that Jo genuinely respects Arakawa's authority, but it's that added context that adds an extra layer to his behavior.

[gleefullypolin]

I agree, I need them all. Good and bad, I don't care I am much better off for them. I don't want the beats of their romantic stuff so much as I want the overall beats for preparing myself if you get my meaning. Seeing what happens in text gives me a peace of mind while watching something with context. My husband hates spoilers but he knows I love them so he only asks me for them if he thinks he's going to get pissed off, ha.

My chaotic brain will both love and hate a huge cliffhanger. Love it because I've written fic for so long that it's just damned fun and hate it because I won't know what's coming and that's rude. I will be right along with you looking for spoilers. I will be ridiculous.

Oh I had dictionaries. Even a thesaurus, paperback style. I explained how a pager used to work to a teenager a few months ago and wanted to die inside the whole time.

Episode 4 is the second scene? You know, that makes a lot of sense actually even though I know most people aren't going to like it. If he has to watch Obi Wan with Penelope for episode 3 and he's already caught feelings by the end of 2, by 4 he's going to be a mess and a half. I heard that he just mopes and sits in a corner during the scene so if he's been pining and thinks all is lost and he can't even escape in a way that's worked for him in the past, he's going to have to do something about it.

With the LOWK of it all and she did not look thrilled during that dance with him in the trailer, adding in chaotic and unhinged Colin because of Kenebling (which is fair, I just see him not as an obstacle but more the physical manifestation of Colin's fear that he might have lost her to someone else in the book), I'm sure a lot is going to happen within that episode that gets us ready for the back half of the season and onto their happily ever after. That episode is going to be insane I'm sure.

Oh oh yes, I have been burned too many times. Let me be insane for one season then settle into just happily watching from then on. A perfect scenario for me really. Yeah, I've seen some nasty things and for people who have consistently accused others of such and such, I have yet to see the such and such, even in the replies on their nastier posts. If even the kindest posts asking for manners are met with vitriol from a ship's fans then maybe not everyone else is wrong about behaviors from certain fans.

My kingdom to hear a My Wife!

Just look at it as being paid to read fic. You've taken on the Man and gotten paid for leisure. And for years? Truly queen behavior right there.

I agree, I just need to know that A happens, then B, which leads them to X by the end of that episode. I don’t know to know how each scene plays out or how they say it, that is the beauty then of watching it play out. But at least I know that I will cringe at B, but I will cry with C and by the time I get to X all is right. Or perhaps I will hate X but by the time episode 3 comes it will be ok by F. Oh my word the way my brain works is terrifying. But my husband is the same as yours. He doesn’t want to know what is coming, he only wants to know if I’m going to be angry beforehand. And then he just laughs and says, oh dear.

I will hate needing to wait another month again, but another part of my brain hates me and will truly love all of it. Because I will sit and create angsty things and dream of scenarios in my head of lovely ways to fix it and isn’t that what fandom is all about anyway? Besides it gives me something to do other than sitting on twitter with my fingers cramping while I get angry over politics and the world. I prefer this to that any day! So, I’ll take the angst of romance, will they or won’t they, carriage rides, and waltz’s, longing looks, and trying to figure out how the story goes.

I think my brain works different as a watcher vs a writer. I think it goes to show writers CAN’T be trusted in some form. As a fic writer I am all about pain. I LOVE cliffhangers and putting my characters through the ringer. I mean I am also a happy ending writer so I trust that I will get my readers there eventually and not all television writers can do that for you. But I guess writers like a bit of a mess! Where is the fun in boy and girl meet, the end, right?

OH MY WORD you explained a pager! To someone from this day and age! That must have been terrifying. I work for a company that acquired a startup, and I have to say, we do not speak the same tech language. LMAO!

It does make sense! Because I’m sure a lot changes from 2 to 4. His brain has mushed from then in how he feels and his confusion has misted over from this BS “my friend Pen is not a woman” to “my whatever Pen is to me sure has plump lips and pert breasts” who is now dancing and giggling with Lord Kenobi all day long and now looking very troubled while speaking with him at that ball. I’m sure seeing her run out of the ball during whatever is happening (I’m assuming either a proposal or a price on LW head is happening)

And I’m sure before this ball is the brothel scene where Colin is all in his feels and not interested in anything else but what is playing in his head about Pen. So, he has gone to this ball with only her in his mind and maybe even realizes he loves her at this point so he’s realizing he’s lost her here. Then whatever happens she runs out and he goes after her, so I figure it has to be LW here because there has to be something that snaps for them both. And then the drama begins, because we pretty much end friends to lovers for part 1 and that is when enemies to lovers starts for part 2.

I literally don’t have the attention span for more than this season. I was gung ho for a couple years on Captain Swan and I burned out very hard, writing fics daily and spending hours until I had a literal melt down mentally. So my attention to the pretty will be here for this season and then I will need a head space break again I’m sure. It will be nice to then see them and be happy and not be stressed about the who, what, and where will be happening and just know they are happy. And hopefully the negative fans can crawl back into whatever negative hole they came from as they wish hell on the show they apparently only loved because of 2 people and will burn to the ground now without.

It is sad, when I was on phones, I would sneak a peek at a fic. When I got into leadership, I snuck off to write a few chapters. Once I hit management…I’ve been paid to write full fics. They love me. I have put in more hours than 40 in a week. So I’ve paid my dues, it’s mental health benefits to write on the side! Haha!

[genshinluvr]

How to (Not) Play Windtrace

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You're playing Windtrace with the men of Genshin Impact and last time you checked, this is not how you play it.

Note: Hello! This is part of a one-shot series (Various Genshin Men x isekai'd!Reader) that I have made! I hope you all like it! This is a little bit longer than I've intended for it to be, but I hope you all enjoyed it regardless! Again, I do post on AO3 as well, so, if you have an AO3 and see a work similar to this, it's me (Aaliah_exo on AO3). More Genshin men will be added to the list as the one-shot series continues, I promise! :) Oh and sorry for posting this a bit later than I have planned, it was supposed to be posted on Thursday, but I typed too much. It's now almost 1 AM on a Friday and I had to get something posted hehe

Warnings: None? Itto gets his head stuck in a wooden bucket and you get hit in the face :( but don't worry because Zhongli comforts you and you're surrounded by handsome men! :)

Word Count: 6.1k

How to (Not) Play Windtrace parts: [1], [2], [3]!

You’ve played Windtrace before; every Genshin player has played Windtrace before (unless they’ve started playing the game right after the event has ended). It’s a fun and competitive game that you play with either other random players to earn some coins, or you can play them with your friends in co-op! Yes, it’s fun, it’s competitive, it can be scary at times, and it gets your heart pumping! You didn’t think that you’d be playing Windtrace again after the event had ended until you were sucked into Genshin Impact itself. And now, here you are!

“Alrighty!” Childe claps his hands, snapping you out of your daydream.

“So the rule of Windtrace is not to get caught by the hunter as the prey! It’s pretty much hide and seek, but things are at stake. I’m a pretty good hunter if I do say so myself.” Childe chuckles, a smirk appearing on his face.

You blinked at Childe; he had his arms crossed over his chest, puffed out with pride. You looked over at the others, then back at Childe. You cleared your throat awkwardly at the sound of silence. Childe looks smug, for some reason. Was it the fact that things “are at stake,” or was it the fact that he claimed that he’s a good hunter? Is he a good hunter because he’s skillful, or is it because he is a Fauti Harbinger? Either way, just thinking about Childe hunting you down sent chills down your spine. A little bit terrifying, not going to lie. A tall ginger, a Fauti to be more specific, chasing you down as you’re trying not to get caught? A Nightmare fuel! Especially since he’s always craving for blood—er, battles.

“Childe, I know the rules. I’ve played the game before, remember?” You raised an eyebrow at Childe.

“Yes, through a screen, but in person, it’s much more different! It’s more fun, and the rush of adrenaline is thrilling!” Childe replies eagerly, ruffling your hair.

“Hey, since [Y/N] knows how to play the game already, we might as well start the game now!” Itto spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Let’s start the first round off with [Y/N] as the hunter and the rest of us as preys. It’ll be… interesting.” Kaeya commented, coming up from behind you and snakes his arm around your shoulder.

“Wait, the rest of you are the prey?” You ask, looking over at the men with your eyebrows up to your hairline in disbelief.

“Yes!” Childe nods his head.

“That is correct.” Itto nods his head.

“Me, one person, looking for how many people?!” Your voice goes up an octave in shock.

You glanced around you and began counting how many people there were present around you. Okay, so there are one, two, three, four, five… you trailed off and looked over at both Kaeya and Childe blankly. The two of them shoot you an innocent grin; feeling heat rush to your cheeks, you pull Kaeya’s arm off of your shoulders and step away from them.

“You want me to find eleven people!? Eleven!” You demanded, crossing your arms over your chest. Kaeya and Childe nod their heads.

“You’re correct, snookums!” Childe grins, lightly tapping your nose happily.

You hear a scoff in the background after Childe’s comment. Did Childe just call you snookums? You can feel the tip of your ears turn red at the pet name that Childe has given you. You look around you discreetly to look at the other’s reaction. Xiao rolled his eyes with his arms over his chest, shooting Childe a heated glare as if he’s was waiting for Childe to burst into flames. Feeling eyes on the back of his head, Childe ignores it and continues to act casual.

“And where will we be playing this game?” You cocked an eyebrow at the men in front of you, trying to ignore the growing heat on your face and the nickname that Childe had given you.

“Easy, here! At the Dawn Winery!” Venti pipes up happily.

“Oh, archons,” Diluc mutters, burying his face into the palm of his hand.

“How am I, one person, going to find eleven other people that’s hidden in plain sight?” You whined, pouting at the men in front of you.

“Oh, don’t be sad! It’ll be fun, trust us! We’ll make it easy for you!” Thoma says happily, smiling at you sweetly.

You feel heat rush to your face at the sight of his cute and charming smile. You never thought that you would wake up one day in your favorite video game, surrounded by the handsome men of Genshin Impact. But here you are now, getting ready to play Windtrace with them. Even though you loved Windtrace, you knew that it would be a little bit more… interesting and different in person. Will people be able to disguise themselves as the wine kegs and lantern, or do they have to hide somewhere where they won’t get caught like any other hide-and-go-seek game?

“I have another question.” You spoke up.

“And what is that question you may have, dear [Y/N]?” Zhongli spoke up, gazing at you intently with those amber eyes of his.

You swore that his eyes glowed a little bit, catching you off guard. As much as Zhongli is attractive, he’s a tiny bit intimidating. Not in a bad way! No, no! Have you ever seen a man so beautiful that he’s intimidating? Yeah, that’s Zhongli. And Kaeya. And Diluc. And Itto. Well, pretty much every man in Genshin Impact! You cleared your throat awkwardly and scratched the back of your neck, feeling your face get hot once again.

“The amount of players… isn’t the maximum number of players four? You know, three preys and one hunter?” You squeaked, feeling hot under their gaze.

Archons, why did they have to be so attractive? And why did you have to be so horny? Archons, calm down! Imagine if they could hear your thoughts; that would be embarrassing. Wait, can they hear your thoughts?

“Yes, the usual number of players for Windtrace is four players.” Albedo nods his head.

“Wait a minute— Zhongli, did you call [Y/N] ‘dear’?” Gorou spoke up, his ears twitching on top of his head.

“Gorou, I did not call [Y/N] “dear.” I simply put the word ‘dear’ in front of their name.” Zhongli replies, chuckling softly.

“I find it interesting how you notice me put the word ‘dear’ in front of [Y/N]’s name instead of Childe giving [Y/N] an interesting nickname.” Zhongli hums, stroking his chin. Gorou chokes on his saliva and looks away with a red face, his ears twitching on the top of his head.

“Enough with the chit-chat! Let’s start the game already!” Itto spoke up, bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement.

You can see a wave of relief wash over Gorou after Itto has spoken up, his face still tinged red with embarrassment from Zhongli’s observation.

“We’ll make this easy for you, [Y/N]. Since you are searching for eleven people, we will make it less complicated than it usually is.” Kazuha spoke up, giving you a gentle smile.

Archons, you felt yourself melt beneath his gentle gaze, like ice cream on a hot summer day. You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded your head at Kazuha’s reassurance. What is up with you today? You weren’t like this when you have first arrived in this world, but now? Words can’t describe how confused you are with yourself. One minute you were casual around these men, and now you’re easily flustered around them.

“Great! Let the games begin!” Childe grins widely.

“Okay, I am going to need you to close your eyes and not take a peek! Or else, there will be repercussions for doing so,” Kaeya chuckles, standing in front of you, gazing down at you with a faint smirk on his face.

“This isn’t how I remembered Windtrace is played, but alright. I guess there can be some changes or two.” You sighed in defeat before you put both of your hands over your eyes.

“Remember, no peeking!” Itto sings.

“I won’t peek, I promise.” You murmured; you closed your eyes and continued to cover your eyes with your hands both of your hands.

You hear some shuffling in the background, footsteps moving all around you. It was silent. For some odd reason, the silence scares you. It felt almost unsettling, and you didn’t know what’d happen if you were to take a peek. Kaeya did say that you would face some repercussions if you were to take a look. Because you’re a curious person, it almost made you want to take a peek from between your fingers. You wondered what the repercussion would be, but since Kaeya said it, you held yourself back from taking a sneak peek. You are standing in front of Dawn Winery, but the people that work at Dawn Winery weren’t outside last time you checked. It is a relief that there weren’t any Dawn Winery employees around because you, sure as hell, do not want them to witness you be flustered around eleven attractive men. It would be scandalous, and that would get the maids to gossip. An unfortunate thing about playing Windtrace in person instead of through a computer was that you didn’t know the perfect time to start searching for the eleven men.

“Ready?” You called out, waiting for a response. You didn’t get an answer in return. Instead, all you heard was silence and an occasional bird chirping here and there.

“Oh right…You trailed off, shaking your head at your mistake.

Since the men were hiding, there’s no way they’d respond to your question, which makes it even harder for you to decide on whether they’re ready for you to search for them or not. You’re just going to have to start the game whenever you think it is the right time, which is now! Right?

“You know what, I’ll just start.” You said to yourself, taking a deep breath before uncovering your eyes.

Once you’ve uncovered your eyes, you jump back in shock and look around you with wide eyes. Not only did the eleven men not hide, but for some reason, they were surrounding you. They stood around you in a circle, gazing at you with those charming smiles on their faces. You were in the dead center, like a bunny surrounded by ravenous wolves that were ready to pounce at any time.

“Hehe… W-When you said that you were going to make the game easy for me, this wasn’t what I had in mind.” You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Oh? You wanted a challenge?” Kaeya asks, stepping closer to you. You squeaked and took a step back, only to bump into someone’s chest. You turned around and looked up at the person you had accidentally backed up into.

“Sorry for bumping into you, Albedo.” You squeaked; by now, you knew your face was most likely as red as Diluc’s hair. You took a deep breath and covered your face, feeling your heart race against your chest. These men will be the death of you.

“I-I wasn’t asking for a challenge; I just did not expect to be surrounded by eleven handsome men during Windtrace. Archons, I feel like my heart is going to explode.” You mumbled, attempting to find a way to cool your face down. Your face felt so hot; you began to fan your face with your hands to cool down.

“Handsome, you say?” Thoma comments, the corners of his lips quirked up.

“Thoma.” You whined, tugging on this arm, your head bowed down, refusing to make eye contact.

“Please stop humiliating me further.” You pleaded softly, gathering the courage to look up at him with puppy dog eyes. Taken aback, Thoma looks away from you, his cheeks and the tip of his ears turning red.

“If [Y/N] wants to play Windtrace correctly, then we will play it correctly,” Xiao speaks up, grabbing your attention.

This time, instead of glaring at Childe, Xiao was glaring at Thoma now. Although, it was a little bit more discreet compared to the time when he was glaring at Childe. Which was a few minutes ago before the game had begun. Sighing in relief, you thank Xiao, who hums in response. He wasn’t looking at you, but if you looked closely, there’s a slight pink tint on the apples of his cheeks.

“Fine, way to ruin the fun.” Kaeya pouts playfully, ruffling your hair.

“Make sure not to take a peek, snookums!” Childe sing-song, booping your nose lightly. He grabbed both of your hands and placed them over your eyes.

This time, you hear more footsteps shuffling around you. Some grew distant, while some sounded close yet not too close to where you stood. This time, you waited a couple of minutes for the sound of footsteps to slowly fade away. Taking your hands off of your eyes, you look around you.

“Itto?” You ask, looking at the tall oni a couple of feet away from you.

“Oh shit, are you done counting?” Itto asks. You nodded your head before slowly stopping, realizing that Itto most likely did not see you nod your head.

“Since you found me, I guess that means that the bucket comes off, huh,” Itto says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I believe so.” You hum, approaching the oni.

Itto reaches up to take the bucket off of his head, only to struggle. You stared at Itto, not knowing what to do.

“Hehe… I may or may not be stuck..” Itto trails off.

“Oh, dear.” You sigh. You walk up to Itto before tapping his bare chest.

“Lean down; I’m going to try to help you get it off.” You said. Itto nods his head and squats down to your height. You grabbed onto the bucket and tried to pull it off. You grunted and held onto the wooden bucket tightly, tugging on the bucket.

“Ow!” Itto whines. “My horn.” He mumbles, his hand reaching up to place it on the bucket.

“Ah! I’m sorry, Itto! The bucket isn’t budging at all.” You sighed, looking around to see if anyone else was around to help you get the bucket off of Itto’s head.

“Well, I can’t continue playing Windtrace with a bucket over my head,” Itto commented.

“Why did you put your head in a tiny bucket? Why not hide in a wine keg instead? Or in the shrubbery!” You ask, gently hitting the wooden bucket, making Itto groan.

“[Y/N], a six-foot-tall oni can’t fit in wine kegs.” Itto mumbles, you can hear him pouting. It was adorable, needless to say.

“Itto, I don’t think I can let the others wait any longer. I’ll have to pull you everywhere with me while I search for the others.” You said.

“I’m okay with that! After all, you did find me!” Itto replies.

“Hold on, let me try one more time.” You murmured, pulling a wooden chair out from the table and standing on top of it. Placing your hands on the wooden bucket once more before pulling on it. Pulling once, twice, thrice, you were unsuccessful.

“Yeah, you’re stuck in there, Itto.” You sighed in defeat. You watched Itto slump forward with an exasperated sigh of defeat.

“You know, the Arataki Itto never gets defeated by anything! O-Other than in beetle fighting, b-but still! This is the first time I’ve lost to a wooden bucket.” Itto grumbles.

“It’s okay, Itto! We’ll figure it out once we find everyone!” You cooed, gently rubbing his back.

“Now, let’s go and find the others!” You say, grabbing onto Itto’s hand, pulling him with you.

You did not think that pulling a six-foot-tall oni with you would be complicated; heck, you didn’t even think that anyone would get into a sticky situation, but here you are! It was nearly impossible to guide a six-foot-tall oni around with a bucket on his head. The oni almost ran and trip over every little thing!

“Where’s Zhongli when you need him?” You mumble, looking around Dawn Winery for the former archon.

“What? Am I not a good company?” Itto sulks, crossing his arms over his chest, pouting beneath the bucket. Guilt immediately hits you like a ton of bricks.

“No, Itto! That’s not what I’m saying! I-I’m saying Zhongli is good at problem-solving and can find a way to get you unstuck from the bucket!” You said frantically, trying to comfort the man.

“Is there a problem?” You look up, spotting Kazuha and Xiao standing in the tree.

“Were you guys up there the entire time?” You ask, squinting your eyes at them.

“Yes, yes we were!” Kazuha smiles innocently, hopping off of the tree, and walks towards both you and Itto.

“Why did you choose to hide with a bucket over your head?” Xiao asks, knocking the wooden bucket, making Itto groan.

“Listen, I had a good plan in my mind, but it didn’t go where I was hoping it would,” Itto says.

“How incompetent.” Xiao sighs, shaking his head in disapproval with an eye roll.

“Hey! I’m not stupid!” Itto protests, standing up from his spot, towering over the three of you. You laugh nervously and pat Itto’s shoulders, attempting to calm him down.

“I believe we should stop the game here and get Itto some help.” You say, looking over at Xiao and Kazuha.

“I believe it’s for the best.” Kazuha hums, nodding his head.

“Watch Itto for me. I’m going to go find the others.” You said. Xiao sighed with his arms crossed over his chest while Kazuha nodded.

You stepped away from the trio before continuing your search for the other eight men. Just when you thought that getting Itto out of the wooden bucket was complicated, you were dead wrong because finding the other eight men was even more complex. Some were hiding on top of the building (which you had a hard time climbing up to the point where Diluc had to come out of his hiding spot to prevent you from getting hurt). Others were hiding in the shrubbery or were attempting to disguise themselves as one of the Dawn Winery employees (Albedo and Zhongli were having a casual chat with one another about alchemy, for some reason, you almost walked passed by them).

“You’re telling me that we have to stop this game on short notice because someone got their head stuck in a wooden bucket?” Diluc asks, crossing his arms across his chest with an eyebrow raised.

“... That is correct, Diluc!” You nod your head sheepishly.

“Why would someone put their head in a bucket in the first place? Especially if they have horns.” Venti murmurs; you shrugged your shoulders.

“That sounds like Itto!” Gorou chuckles, shaking his head with a smile on his face.

“It’s not out of the ordinary for Itto,” Thoma adds.

“Please, someone help him! I tried helping, but the bucket wouldn’t come off!” You frowned.

“Itto is a perfect example of how not to play Windtrace.” Kaeya chuckles, shaking his head.

“Alright, alright! You can stop the Itto slander now! Just get me out of here already!” Itto exclaims.

“Is there anyone that wants to volunteer to take the wooden bucket off of Itto’s head?” Albedo asks, looking around at everyone else.

“Considering I was unsuccessful many times, I volunteer Zhongli.” You said, pointing over at the ex archon.

“Why Zhongli? Why not me, the 11th Fatui Harbinger?” Childe mutters, pouting slightly with his arms crossed over his chest. Diluc rolls his eyes, along with Xiao. Sometimes you forget that Diluc isn’t fond of the Fatui; you were surprised that Diluc and Childe hadn’t attacked one another yet. And when that time comes, you sure hope that you don’t get caught in the middle of it all.

“Zhongli’s the first person to pop up in my mind.” You commented.

“Oh? So you’re saying that you’ve been thinking about Zhongli instead of me?” Childe asks, pouting even more.

“Zhongli seems to be a problem-solving type of person, and I believe that he knows how to find solutions to many things.” You stuttered, feeling yourself becoming flustered.

“I’m flattered that you think of me,” Zhongli says, smiling at you, light pink dusting his cheeks.

“Ugh, stooooooop! You’re so cute when you smile!” You whined, covering your face with your hands, not knowing that you said that out loud for everyone to hear. The ten men visibly pouted—minus Itto because his head is still in a bucket, and you can’t see him pouting to himself— a sting of jealousy hit them in the heart. While Zhongli looks at you in awe, his cheeks turning a much darker shade of pink. Zhongli suddenly felt shy at your comment, but he also felt flattered as well.

“Why can’t they call me cute too?” The question was circulating through their mind while poor Itto still had his head stuck in the wooden bucket for who knows how long.

“Uh! Hello?! Less flirting, more getting the Arataki Itto out from the bucket!” Itto exclaims, stomping his foot on the ground with his arms crossed.

Zhongli sighs and approaches Itto; Zhongli places a firm hand on the bucket and pulls. The bucket didn’t budge too much; it budged slightly. Again, Zhongli pulls and pulls on the bucket. The more Zhongli tugged on the bucket, the more it began to slide from Itto’s head slowly. And before anyone knew it, the bucket finally came off! Zhongli accidentally hit you in the face with the same bucket, unfortunately.

BONK!

“Ow!” You yelped, holding onto the area where the bucket had unintentionally whacked you in the face.

“HA! That’s what you get for complimenting Zhongli instead of me!” Childe howls with laughter, leaning against Kaeya, who was stifling his laughter.

“Why are you so mean to me?” You whine, glaring at Childe.

“[Y/N], I apologize for hitting you in the face with the bucket. It wasn’t my intention!” Zhongli says, cradling your face in his gloved hands.

“It’s not your fault Zhongli. I stood too close to you while you were trying to get the bucket off of Itto’s head.” You pouted, burying your face into Zhongli’s chest with your arms wrapped around him. You were trying to hide from the embarrassing situation by hiding your face in Zhongli’s chest; Zhongli immediately wraps his arms around you. Oh, if only you could stay in his arms forever.

“You smell really good.” Your voice was muffled against Zhongli’s chest. Thankfully he didn’t hear what you said. Or did he? Even if he did listen to what you’ve said, he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, come on!” Childe groans, staring at the public display of affection in front of him. If the others weren’t already jealous, this probably fueled the fire even more.

“Man, now I wish I never got the bucket unstuck.” Itto whines, rubbing his horns with a frown on his face.

“I believe we should stop for today,” Diluc commented, uncrossing his arms. Diluc frowns at the sight of you burying your face into Zhongli’s chest. An ugly feeling gnaws at Diluc; he bites the inside of his cheeks, attempting not to let the jealousy get to him. If only it were him instead of Zhongli.

“I agree; let’s go nurse the injury,” Albedo says, approaching you and Zhongli. He gave you and Zhongli a fake smile, the unfamiliar feeling bubbling deep within him. Whatever this feeling was, Albedo did not enjoy it. Nor did he enjoy the sight of you being so close to the Liyuen man.

“I don’t think it’ll leave a scratch, but it will certainly leave a bruise.” You mumble, rubbing the area where the bucket has hit you.

“Now, hold on! I believe that it’s our turn to be the hunter for the final round!” Childe spoke up, grabbing onto yours and Zhongli’s arms to prevent the two of you from walking away.

“Childe, [Y/N] needs to rest. I believe they might have a slight concussion from the bucket.” Zhongli says, gently rubbing the red spot on your face that was gradually turning purple. You leaned into Zhongli’s touch and sighed in content; a soft smile appeared on Zhongli’s face.

“So much for not having favorites.” Thoma sighs, closing his eyes in discontent.

“We mustn’t hold back any longer. We need to ice the forming bruise and make sure that you’re not injured in any other way.” Albedo says, crossing his arms, clearly unamused.

“Why get a bag of ice to ice their bruise when I, a cryo vision wielder, can do that myself?” Kaeya asks with his eyebrow raised before walking towards you and grabbing your face with his hands. Much to Zhongli’s dismay. Kaeya’s hands slowly became cold before he placed his hand on the faint bruise on your face.

“No, I’d rather have Albedo ice my bruise.” You pouted, pulling your face out of his grasp with a pout—amusement flashed over Albedo’s face, light pink dusting his cheeks at your comment.

“Tsk, so stubborn,” Kaeya murmurs, pulling your face into his hands once more.

“Kaeya!” You hissed, attempting to swat at the man.

“So cute, you remind me of a kitten having a hissy fit.” Kaeya snickers, pulling you into his chest and pats the top of your head with a teasing smile on his handsome face.

You turn your head towards Kaeya, and your eyes land on his boob window; you stared at it for a moment, then glanced up at him. Kaeya was staring down at you in amusement; you felt your face tinged pink with embarrassment.

“You like what you see?” Kaeya teases, gently placing his hand on the faint bruise on your face.

“Very much.” You blurt out, catching Kaeya by surprise.

“Oh, you naughty little thing.” Kaeya chuckles, gently pinching your cheeks.

“That’s not fair! How come you’re flirting with those two except for me!” Childe demands, huffing in the background.

“I’m not flirting with anyone.” You mumble, looking away from them. Your face was turning dark red like Diluc’s hair.

“You know I’m hot too, right? Not just Kaeya and Zhongli.” Childe huffs, approaching you, Kaeya, Zhongli, and Albedo.

“Technically, you’re all hot and attractive. There's no need to debate on who is more attractive than who when I find all of you attractive.” You said, shrugging your shoulders.

Everyone fell silent and stared at you in mirth, the corners of their lips quirking up at your response. You pressed your lips together and closed your eyes. Slowly, they began to close in on you one by one, soon surrounding you in a circle once more.

“I need to learn how to not blurt things out without thinking.” You whispered to yourself, smacking your head with your palms. You winced in pain when your hand landed on the bruise on your face.

“Either I get this bruise treated, and we stop playing Windtrace for the day, or we continue playing Windtrace with a giant bruise on my face.” You commented, squinting your eyes at each of the men around you.

“Darling, I have a cryo vision. I can make you feel better with just a simple touch.” Kaeya purrs, leaning his face close to yours. The way Kaeya looked at you sent heat throughout your entire body; your face must be beet red by now.

“Let’s continue playing Windtrace, but this time, our little bunny over here will be the prey,” Diluc spoke up, stepping up towards you and tilting your head up. His thumb brushes over the bottom of your lip.

“Wait, I’ll be the prey, and there will be eleven hunters searching for me!?” You squeaked, looking at Diluc with wide eyes.

“Of course! It’s only fair that we become the hunter in the next round.” Kazuha chuckles, tilting his head to the side, and examines you closely.

“You were the hunter after all, and now it’s our turn to be the hunter,” Xiao spoke up, gazing at you with an unknown emotion in his eyes. Was it lust? Hunger? You almost felt naked under their watchful eyes.

“B-But we never finished the first round! We had to stop the first round because Itto got his head stuck in the wooden bucket!” You protested; your heart was pounding in your chest. You don’t even know if your heart will be able to deal with all of this any longer.

“It’s okay! We’ll make this round a little bit more complicated since you did say that the first round was a bit too easy.” Thoma says, smiling at you innocently.

You scoffed and pouted at Thoma’s comment. You looked away from the men, arms over your chest, cheeks puffed out in frustration. Now they want to make the game complicated? Wait a minute— since there will be eleven hunters, that means…

“Hold on a second! You have Gorou on your team!” You exclaimed.

“Yes, and what about it?” Gorou asks, quirking up an eyebrow at you.

“You have a good sense of smell! That means you can sniff me out in seconds!” You whined. Gorou smiles brightly and nods his head, his ears twitching and his tail wagging side to side with excitement. You then glanced over at Xiao and Kazuha before pointing at the two of them with an accusing finger.

“A-And those two! They’re also good hunters! The wind will most likely tell Kazuha where I’m hiding!” You added, glancing over at the others. Kazuha hides his chuckle by clearing his throat, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Ah, it seems our little bunny is observant.” Zhongli chuckles; his amber eyes begin to glow as he stares deep into your eyes. Zhongli’s eyes are so enchanting; you can just stare into them all day if you can. Breaking out of your trance, you shook your head and let out a shaky sigh. You were trembling! Not out of fear but from excitement.

“Not the nicknames again.” You whine, covering your face.

“What do you say, bunny? Care for a round two, but more challenging?” Childe asks, grabbing your hands and pulling them down away from your face. He tilts your head up with one hand, a dangerous smile appearing on his face.

“Looks like I have no choice.” You sighed in defeat; the men around you cheered. You shook your head in disbelief, a faint smile appearing on your face. There’s no way in hell that you’d be able to win the upcoming round of Windtrace against eleven hunters. You were fucked, that’s for sure.

“At least let me ice the bruise on my face first, then we can continue the game.” You spoke up, interrupting their little celebration.

“Oh, right.” Itto chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile on his face.

“I’m right here, you know,” Kaeya commented, your eyebrows shot to your hairline at Kaeya’s comment. Kaeya had a sly smirk on his face— he knew what he was doing.

“I can ice your bruise easily. You don’t need to do anything elaborate to put ice on your bruise. I’m all you need.” Kaeya explains, shooting you a wink. You shook your head at Kaeya’s comment. Wait, since Kaeya’s wearing an eyepatch, how does he wink? One of his eyes is covered, so when he blinks in general, is he winking or blinking?

“Hey, Kaeya….” You murmured, squinting up at him.

“Yes, [Y/N]?” Kaeya hums, raising an eyebrow at you; the smirk remains on his face.

You stayed silent for a moment, debating on whether you should ask him the question or not. But because you see how impatient some of the men were— Itto— you decided not to ask Kaeya that question. Perhaps you’ll save that question for next time.

“Never mind.” You said, brushing away your curiosity.

“I’ll go fetch you an ice pack for your bruise,” Diluc says, walking towards Dawn Winery. You watch Diluc walk to the winery; you couldn’t help but watch Diluc walk away. The way Diluc walks held so much power over you. You subconsciously bite down on your lip.

“Now, when will you look at me like that?!” Childe’s voice snaps you out of your daydream, making you look over at him like a deer caught in headlights. You glared at Childe and looked away from him with your arm over your chest, letting out a sassy huff.

“Never! Since you laughed at me when I got hit in the face with a wooden bucket!” You sneered, ignoring Childe’s dramatic gasp and sputters.

“I-I was joking, snookums!” Childe sputters, approaching you with puppy dog eyes.

“Not when you said that I deserved it for complimenting Zhongli instead of you!” You grumbled, attempting to dodge his grasps.

“Baby, please~!” Childe whines, now chasing after you.

“Childe, no!” You squealed, running around in circles with Childe behind your tail. Without thinking, Childe lunges towards you and knocks you down to the ground. Before your head can meet the pavement, Childe quickly shields your head with his hands, and the two of you landed on the floor with a loud thump.

“Ow! Childe!! Why do you always hurt me?!” You whined, glaring up at Childe, who was now straddling you by the hips.

“Another way not to play Windtrace.” Kaeya chuckles, shaking his head. “No tackling, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Kaeya adds, nodding his head.

“What in the world is going on here?!” Diluc interrupts; you look over at Diluc and hold your arms out to Diluc with a pout and puppy dog eyes. Maybe this would be the cause of a fight between Diluc and Childe.

“Diluc! Help me! Childe tackled me to the ground.” You whined, squirming underneath Childe. “Hey! I did not tackle you.” Childe protests, leaning down towards you with an exaggerated pout on his face. You stopped squirming and glared up at him.

“You liar! There are plenty of witnesses!” You groaned; you shoved his face away from yours and tried to claw your way out from underneath him.

“Childe, get off of [Y/N], now,” Zhongli says, frowning deeply at Childe, who huffs before begrudgingly getting off of you. Zhongli and Thoma help you get up from the ground; Diluc hands you the ice pack while Kazuha and Xiao examine you for any other possible injuries caused by Childe tackling you to the ground.

“Are you alright? You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?” Diluc asks, scanning you up and down. You nod your head and place the ice pack on your face.

“I’m okay. Does that mean we can skip out on the next round of Windtrace?” You ask in a hopeful tone.

“Hold on there! Just because we were all worried about you doesn’t mean you can bail out on the next round of Windtrace!” Itto spoke up, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll give you a head start.” Venti pats your head with a smile on his face.

“It was worth the shot.” You sighed in defeat.

“Better choose a good hiding spot, little bunny! We’re coming after you, and we won’t be gentle. After all, you didn’t want us to go easy on you.” Kaeya smirks, watching you run off to find a hiding spot.

As you ran around Dawn Winery to find an excellent place to hide, you mentally prayed to yourself that you wouldn’t get caught easily. You were just hoping that someone gentle would find you, but knowing these men, they weren’t going to go easy on you. Especially someone like Childe and Kaeya! Those two men are dangerous! Once you find a suitable place to hide, you quickly get into that spot and curl up into a ball.

“Please don’t find me, please don’t find me.” You think to yourself, feeling your heart hammering against your chest.

“Ready or not, here we come!” You feel your blood run cold; the sound of various footsteps around Dawn Winery made you even more anxious. Who was going to be the first one to find you? Was it Gorou because of his excellent sense of smell? Would it be Kazuha because the wind perhaps gave your spot away? Whoever will be the first one to find you, you were doomed either way. Is this how you’re supposed to play Windtrace? That’s not what you remembered! You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t see a figure standing in front of you.

“I found you~!”

Note: Wow, the longest one-shot/imagine I've ever made! Not only that, but this is my first post that has a lot of tags! The only thing that I'm not looking forward to is typing out all of the tags for my Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader ;v; Anyway! I hope you all enjoyed this really long one-shot! Masterlist and Tumblr blog navigation will be made and posted soon! Again, I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

[dragon-kazansky]

Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Masterlist]

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 2

Race day. The whole track was buzzing with excitement. Over the last two weeks, Zemo had been working hard and improving his car. Between all that, he was thinking about you.

It was strange how someone you met once, and hardly knew, made such an impact on your life. He wondered if you got the ticket. Would you even come?

He stood by his car. People had come to see him, but his eyes were only looking for one person. You had yet to make an appearance. Disappointment hung heavy in his chest.

Tony Stark stood across the way from him. He was chatting to his fans, smiling smugly and relishing in all the attention he was receiving.

If Zemo knew one thing, he wasn't going to let Stark win today. He glares at him as he takes a seat. He sighs. He had hoped you would have come. The thought of you helps cool his thoughts of the other driver.

It won't be long until they are called to the starting lane.

Zemo gets up and grabs his helmet, thinking to make a few last minute checks before they're needed. He would deal with the fact you were a once in a lifetime meeting and get on with the day. The disappointed had settled hard.

He turns his back and was about to make his way to his crew when a voice stopped him.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

He turns around quickly, relieved at the sound of your voice. He grins when his eyes land on you.

"You did, but you're here now. Though, I think you owe me for keeping me waiting."

You smile. "I'm sorry. Getting here was a hassle. I was worried I was going miss the race entirely."

He couldn't stop smiling.

"I'm glad you made it."

The cheering behind you caught your attention. You turned to see Stark climbing into his car. The crowd around him was being asked to disperse.

"I won't let him win today."

You turn to see Zemo looking at you, completely ignoring what's happening behind you.

"He really riles you up, doesn't he?"

"How could you tell?" He asked, not meaning for a reply, but surprised by your response a the same.

"You're clenching your fists and jaw. Is he, like, your enemy?"

Zemo gives a heartless chuckle.

"Something like that."

You stepped closer to him and smiled softly. This closely, he could smell the fragrance you had put on today. You leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"A good luck charm. I'll be cheering for you."

You're not sure where your bravery had come from, but you wanted to do something to get his mind off Stark. He looked a little surprised, but he looked more smug than that.

"My own little good luck charm? Perhaps things will be different today."

You smile as you step back. The drivers are being called to the start line. Zemo doesn't quite want to leave you yet, but duty calls.

"That's your stand," he says, pointing to the seating area above him. "I'll be back here when the race ends, meet me."

"Alright."

Zemo has someone help you up to your seat in the stands. He gets into his car as you go, looking up once before driving his car over to the start.

You don't take your eyes off his car.

That tense atmosphere seems to fall over the whole racetrack. It was just like last time. Only there was something more here for you. You were here for Zemo this time, at his request.

The silence was thick. All you could hear was your breathing, and then that beautiful sound. Those engines revving. It was as if at that moment you forgot how to breathe.

They were off.

You were already clutching your seat.

You had a little bit of research on Helmut Zemo. He had won a couple of races before, but had never beaten Tony Stark. There was a rivalry there. This had been going on a few months. Zemo was insistent on beating him at least once.

Maybe, just maybe, today will be that day.

Your eyes flick to the screen where the cars will be picked up now they're out of sight. You can feel your stomach dropping as you watch eagerly. Zemo and Stark are once again locked in battle with each other. They are ready so far ahead of the others and you wonder how they do that so fast. You bite your lip as you watch the purple car.

This would mean so much to Zemo if he beat Stark. It would put Tony down a few notches, maybe then he wouldn't be so high and mighty.

You have no idea what happened. It was as if you suddenly zoned back in to the race. Attention brought back to the screen at the sound of screeching tyres.

You tense up.

Luckily no damage had been done, but both Stark and Zemo had spiralled out of control, both cars now facing the wrong way. You could see them on the screen.

The others will catch up soon. They don't have much time to keep their places if they're going to get back into the race.

Stark's car sparks to life. You feel your heart drop as he takes off again.

Zemo cannot get his car to start again.

Banging his hand against the steering wheel he glares after Stark. Another race he will not win. No doubt Tony will have something to say later.

You can only watch as Helmut climbs put of his car and walks off the tracks. All the other cars speed past him. His car won't be crossing the finishing line today.

You don't care about the rest of the race, you leave tour seat and hurry down to the barricade. You would wait for Zemo like you said you would.

He doesn't return to the stop until the race is over, Stark's name being hollered from every direction. He comes over with a hard look on his face, jaw clenched in anger. His helmet was in his hand, hair slightly messy from it's removal.

He stalks over to where you are waiting. He doesn't even look at you as he drops the helmet and sits down, head in his hands.

"Zemo?"

He doesn't say anything. He just sits there and sighs. Your lucky kiss didn't bring him much luck.

There was no way you could be impressed with his skills after that. He had wanted to impress you today. He had wanted to cross that finish line for you. He failed.

He swears it's Stark's fault they collided like that. Now his team had to go fetch the abandoned car and fix it.

One day. One day he would beat that man.

"Zemo?"

He lowers his hands and turns his head to the side, looking at you with gentle eyes. He has a little smile on his face, but you could tell he was utterly defeated.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" You ask, confused by the sudden apology.

"For wasting my lucky charm."

You chuckle softly and sit down on the tarmac by his chair.

"It's not a big deal. I'm just glad you're alright. I know how dangerous this can be."

He nods. People can die in this job.

"You have been doing some research?"

"Yes. I wanted to understand your world better." You look down sheepishly. It felt strange confessing that to him.

"My world is fast," he says, voice dropping in volume.

You both ignore the cheering happening in the distance. Tony was receiving his reward as his team parks his car opposite you.

"I like the fast lane, I found out. I'd like to stay in it a little longer."

Zemo's gaze landed on you.

"Would you like to join me for a drink?" He asks, wanting to take his mind off the race.

"I would love to," you smile up at him.

"Wait for me by the gate, I'll pick you up once I've changed."

You nod and stand up. You make your way to the exit of the racetrack, waiting by the gate. Zemo goes to get out of his racing gear.

As you wait, Stark makes his exit. He spots you, grinning.

"Waiting for someone?"

"Yes," you reply curtly.

"You're wasting your time on him. You know that? Not only is he a danger on the track, but off it too." Tony peered at you over his shades, "consider that a warning."

"I think I can judge him for myself, but thank you."

Tony shrugs and drives off.

The nerve of that man! Granted, he didn't sound he meant ill feelings as he said it, but that fact he even felt the need to say that angered you. Sure, you hadn't known Zemo all that well, and everything you did know you got off the internet, but you felt more than capable to make a judgement yourself.

Tony was out of sight now.

You turned when you heard another car approach. It was a different one from the one he had two weeks ago. You smile as he pulls up in front of you. You climb in.

Zemo drives you both away from the track.

"What happened to the race car?"

"My crew will take it back and look at the damage. I'll check in with them tomorrow. I have some changes to make to it."

"What happens now? I mean, since you didn't cross the line," you ask, wanting to know more.

"I'll be set back a bit, but I'll overcome it. One day I will beat Stark. His winning streak will have to end at some point, and I would very much like to do it before the racing season ends."

"How long do you have?"

"There are three more races before the season ends."

"I believe in you."

For some reason those words set off something inside of him. He glances at you briefly as a smile spreads across his face. Perhaps it was fate that brought you to him. He would like to think that.

Zemo knee exactly where to take you. A good quiet place for drinks.

The bar was nice. Nothing flashy or loud, just a casual place for drinks. Zemo and yourself sat in the back, out of immediate eyesight of everyone else. He wanted to spend this time with you, and only you.

"What else did you learn in your research?" He asks, wanting to kick off the conversation.

"You've only been racing a handful of years, only being racing professional a few months, and yet you're super talented on the track. I had to look up some of the racers, most of which have been racing professionally for years. Yet, you're up there with them," you say, sounding impressed.

"I'm good at what I do, no doubt about that."

"How did you get into racing?"

"I love cars. Back home, I have a collection of classic models. You have only seen two of the cars I own. One day I decided to give racing a go. The thrill that runs through your veins when you're speeding around that track, it is unlike anything I've ever felt before. Adrenaline takes over once your foot is on the pedal. All you see is the track ahead."

You smile as you listen.

"I could get used to going to races."

Zemo looks at you with soft eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I would very much like it if you would."

"I can't guarantee I can be at them all. I have to work too. My job isn't nearly as cool as yours though."

"How about this, for every race you come watch, I take you out for drinks after," he offered.

"Are you... asking me out?"

"Only if you attend the races," he states.

You look down at your drink.

"I'll see what I can do, I suppose."

He chuckles, "I'll take it."

"So, there's only three races left, right?"

"Yes," he confirms.

"You have to win all three to beat Stark this season?"

"Yes."

"Can you do it?"

Zemo looks at you with focused eyes. His lips pulled into a smug grin.

"I'm going to do it."

"When is the next race?"

"Two weeks. They are two weeks apart each."

"Right." You read that online. "What's the plan from here. How do you spend the time between races?"

"Improving. Tomorrow I will meet with my crew and see the damages done to my car. I will do whatever I have to do to get it back in top form. I will improve it and test it. Over and over if I have to. I will beat Stark."

You smile.

"I know you can do it. You can."

"Well, if you keep saying it, then I know I can too," he winks at you. You chuckle and try to hide your smile by sipping your drink.

This was nice. You would get to do this again as long as you attended the rest of the races. You made a silent promise to do whatever you could to attend the remaining races. Work be damned!

When you finished your drink, Zemo drove you back to your hotel. Much like last time, you both lingered in the car before you went inside.

"Would you like to come to the garage tomorrow? I could show you what we do behind the scenes," he offers. If he was being genuinely honest, be just wanted to spend more time with you.

"Sure. I'm free tomorrow, but then I'll have to catch the next train home."

"I'm honoured you went to all the trouble to come see me race again," he smiled.

"You invited me. I wasn't going to pass up the chance to see you again," you blurted out.

You sit there in shock. Zemo looks extremely proud and smug.

"I mean-"

"No, no. Don't say any more," he laughs.

You're a blushing mess as you climb put of his car.

"See you tomorrow then?"

You just nod and head inside, embarrassed beyond belief. You can't believe you said that.

Zemo drives away with a smile.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb

[bill-y]

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐄

Peeta Mellark x male reader

[ We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family. ]

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part three: Click this, Rumtumtugger.

Part four: you're here, jennyanydots

Part five: Clicky dicky here, buddy

Wattpad account: L0calxDumbass

Those words left my mouth without much thought. I wasn't thinking of the damned consequences at the moment.

Behind me was Kunal, an iron grip on my leg, bawling his eyes out. "Y/N! NO! NO! YOU CAN'T GO!" he pleaded, his cries getting louder by the second. 

My hand ruffled his strawberry blonde hair, messing it up. "Let go, Nal," I said in the calmest tone I could muster. He shook his head, tears running down his cheeks, I cleared my dry throat, gulping down nothing. My mouth was dry as if I just ate a handful of salt, which was honestly a luxury.

My face remained stoic, the moment I show a sign of distress I know the people in the Capitol would eat it up like good bread. It entertains them, our suffering entertains them. 

His hands slipped from my leg, gripping on my pants before he was finally taken away from me. "Up you go, Owl eyes," said Gale, his voice trying hard to remain steady. Beside him was Katniss, who was holding Kunal by the shoulders. She nodded, "Good luck, Y/n,"

I nodded, before looking back at the temporary stage. "Oh well, Bravo!" Effie exclaimed. "That's the spirit of the games!"

She was thrilled, finally seeing some action from this district. It made a pit in my stomach, I clenched my jaw. If only the roles were reversed, Capitol people fighting for their lives instead of us.

Oh, how funny that would be.

I strode to the stage, trying my best to look collected. The foreboding feeling in my stomach only grew with each step I took, my hands sweating as if they've just been dipped into water once I finally took my place.

"Do tell us your name," Effie said, her grin widening as she nodded, encouraging me to talk. It took all the will power I had to not strangle her.

"Y/n Greyback," I replied dryly, hoping it would set her off.

“I bet my buttons that was your brother. Don’t want him to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let’s give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!” she trilled, making me clench my fists.

Her words were met with silence. No one clapped, not a noise can be heard. Even the ones who would usually bet on who would wound up as a tribute didn't do anything.

I held back a smile, a surge of hope flowing through me. This was the most rebellious thing they could do without getting punishment of any sort. Silence.

Silence doesn't mean fear or that we're cowards. It meant that we do not accept this, we do not condone.

Just as my father always said, one does not need to shout to make a change.

The next thing that happened was even more of a surprise. Maybe it was because I was a son of a "rebel", maybe they pitied my family or maybe it was because I talked to the mayor's daughter.

Just one, then two, then a group almost all of the crowd put the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and held it out to me. It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love.

My tense hands relaxed a sense of calm washing over me. We were united in a strange way, something I thought would only happen in my dreams.

"Look at him! Look at this one!" Hollered Haymitch, throwing an arm around my shoulder. His arm was quite heavy, understandable, he's a wreck. "I like him!"

The scent of alcohol from his breath was strong, or maybe he just smelled of alcohol. "Lots of. . ." He paused, trying to think of a word.

I cringed as he slightly swayed around, trying my best to not touch him. "Spunk!" he declared triumphantly. "More than you!"

He released me, staggering to the front of the stage. "More than you!" He declared once more, pointing towards the camera.

Was he talking to the audience? Or maybe he was addressing the Capitol. I wish it's the latter, that would be funny.

Just as he opened his mouth to continue, he fell down the stage, knocking himself unconscious in the process. I snickered slightly, my face scrunching up right after.

Thankfully, the cameras were all pointed towards him, watching as they whisked him away into a stretcher. I took this moment to glare back into the distance, watching the scenery.

There was the hill that me, Katniss and Gale were just at. It looked so peaceful, contrary to my day.

"What an exciting day!" Effie warbled, trying to fix her tilted wig. It looked ridiculous. Why would Capitol people, no, why would anyone wear that?

It looks ugly, like a beaten up squirrel. Though I'd be lying if I said it wasn't eye-catching, though, beaten up squirrels are also eye-catching. “But more excitement to come! It’s time to choose our next tribute!” she continued, putting one hand to the second bowl.

Her fingertips grab the first slip it encounters. I hoped it wasn't Gale or Katniss. I didn't want to kill them, not that I'd ever stand a chance.

Katniss was extremely skilled with the bow, she could probably shoot my head from miles away. Gale, on the other hand, was strong, compared to him, I had the strength of a broken twig.

"Peeta Mellark," She read. Oh no. Why him? Of all the people in this district. His father just "introduced" me to him this morning, not just that, I knew him.

I watched him make his way up the stage, I had a clear look at him this time. He had a stocky build, medium height,  ashy blonde hair that falls in waves over his forehead. The shock of the situation registered on his face, though you could tell that he was alarmed by the way his blue eyes looked.

Like a prey knowing it'd be hunted.

Despite this, he still manages to climb up the small flight of stairs calmly.

Effie Trinket then asked for volunteers, but no one spoke up. He has two older brothers, I've seen them. But one is probably too old to volunteer, and the other just wouldn't. This was standard family devotion, what I'd done was a radical thing.

The mayor began to say the same old words he always says every reaping day. I couldn't help but think, why him?

I remember it all too well, that day, it was raining up a storm, the wind was howling. My mother and my brother were left at home, I was tasked to find food for us since my mother couldn't bear to show her face to the district.

How could she? Her husband has been executed for rebellion against the Capitol. One of the peacekeepers found weapons under his possession and he was killed. He managed to convince them to spare us, though sometimes I wished it hadn't worked.

Within a week of his death, we began to lose money, and therefore, food. Nobody wanted to help us, nobody wanted to associate with the family of a tyrant.

Shame, the family name bared shame. My mother didn't have the gall to go out and sell any of my father's things, my brother was too young to even understand what was going on.

I was angry. How could they have just taken everything away from us that easy? Who gave them the right to do that?

But at that moment, I couldn't afford to sit still and wallow in my resentment. That was a luxury I couldn't afford. not many could afford it either.

Starvation was a fairly common thing in district 12, though the amount of covering up the peacekeepers do no one a favour and fools no one.

There I was, a boy who wasn't even old enough to be registered into the pile walking around in the harsh weather, stripped away from my dignity and whatever money we had.

I found myself in the Mellark's bakery, being told off by the baker's wife, who was tired of having brats from the Seam paw through her trash. I would've screamed back then, but I didn't want the Peacekeepers called on me.

So I left without another word, sitting at a tree for some sort of cover from the harsh rain.  I remember the snorts of the pigs beside me, and that was when I realized I'm no better than cattle; the people of Panim were no better than cattle.

My knees buckles as I collapsed onto the wet grass, shuddering from the cold and the harsh reality. Maybe I had gone insane then, but I vaguely remember talking to the pigs, ranting to them.

They didn't listen, they were too busy rolling in the mud. Looking back, I find this extremely funny, but maybe that's because I don't want to pity myself.

I didn't even notice a boy until the pigs actually rose to eat the pieces of bread thrown at them. I stared at him for a long while, mainly because of the burnt bread, the crust was scorched black.

But a red mark on his cheekbone caught my attention. Had they hit him for burning the bread? My parents have never hit me, I couldn't even imagine what that would feel like.

He took one look at the bakery as if checking if the coast was clear before he turned back to the pigs. Though instead of feeding the pigs he tossed the loaves of bread to me.

I watched him walk towards the bakery and closing the kitchen door tightly behind him. All I could do was stay silent, before shoving them up to my shirt, muttering a broken thank you as I ran home.

The loaves had cooled by the time I got home, but that didn't matter. We had something to eat. Mother looked at me, relieved I didn't die. She hugged me, apologizing.

I didn't care though, we had food, that's what's important.

And for the first time in weeks, we had a proper meal.

I was thankful, the fact that he'd probably burnt the bread on purpose never occurred to me until I crawled onto the bed, staring at the wooden ceiling. An act of kindness, someone still cared.

It was as if spring came overnight, fluffy clouds, blue sky, the warm sweet air. At school, we would always catch each other's gazes. I felt a tad bit bad, his cheek was swollen and his eye had blackened.

I couldn't come up to say thank you, instead, I watched him from a distance, contemplating whether I should. When I went to fetch Nal, out eyes met once more, I was about to mouth a thank you until Nal tugged my shirt.

He handed me a dandelion. He's always loved flowers. His love for it made me realize how I would get the food we needed. All that time I and my father spent in the forest won't be for nothing.

To this day, I still feel as if I owe my family's life to him. I had honestly given up, but he gave me something. Peeta Mellark, the boy who gave me bread and the dandelion, both gave me hope.

Maybe if I had said thank you all those years ago I wouldn't be feeling so guilty now. I could always say it but something about thanking him whilst I'm practically holding a knife against his throat seems dishonest.

The mayor finished his speech, telling us to shake hands. His were as warm and firm as those loaves of bread. He squeezed me as if reassuring me. Or maybe those were just nervous spasms.

We turn back to the crowd as the anthem of Panem plays.

There are twenty-four of us fighting in that arena, as grim as it is, let's just hope someone kills him before I'm forced to. I don't wanna kill the reason I've survived all those years.

Word count: 2026

Tags:

@nin3s

Sorry for the late update my exams are next week and im rushing to finish my requirements at school. :"

[artificialqueens]

Gimme Love, 4/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Hey, guys! So I realised I forgot to explain the idea behind this story. This is part of a series I'm working on called 'Head in the Clouds' - stories that are inspired by the music of Joji. This story is loosely based off the music video for 'Gimme Love'. I couldn't make sense of the actual video cause it goes by so fast (if you watch it you'll see what I mean), but I kind of have an idea.

Thanks for listening to my TEDtalk.

Major Trigger warnings: Dementia, death, grief, homophobic slurs

-_-_-_-

2003

"Brianna, could you come here?"

I put my pen down on the kitchen table, not really minding that Grandpa was interrupting me. The studying was tiring, if anything.

Walking into his room, I found him getting up from his desk.

"Hey, Grandpa," I said.

"Brianna, do me a favour, baby. Could you read me this one chapter?" He asked, retreating to his bed.

Bit of an odd request for him. "Why? What's up?"

I picked it up, one of the many books that delved into the science and possibility of the existence of parallel universes.

"I'm just...finding it kind of hard to concentrate." He laughed to himself. He made a groaning sound as his back hit the bed.

I sat by him and read about 3 chapters before he said, "that'll do. Thanks, honey."

I got up and moved to the desk, briefly glancing at the front cover, at the main character with his telescope. Far off memories flashed in my brain. I put the book down, turning to face him.

"What are you smiling at, honey?" Grandpa asked, a smile appearing on his own face.

"I just...remember the night you told Jujubee and me about 'the other world'. We haven't stopped talking about it since." I admitted, putting the book back on his desk. "And we'd always play these games like we were there. Our lives would be so different. And just a little bit better."

"And then you found yourself wanting that in reality." Grandpa finished for me.

I was silent, but he knew he was right. "It's not that I didn't appreciate what I already had. It's just...whenever my anxiety was surfacing, or whenever someone was mean in school, or whenever I thought of my parents, I'd just...want to escape." I sat down in the chair next to his bed again, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it reassuringly. "Didn't you ever feel the same?"

Grandpa breathed out a sigh through his nose, his smiling widening. "Brie, of course, I have. All the games you and Juju played, it's called escapism. And it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Wouldn't you ever try to find one?"

"Find what?"

"I don't know. A door? A gateway to the other world?"

He didn't even need to tell me 'yes.' He had spent many years reading the books, sometimes reading them more than once, making notes and coming up with his own theories. He probably felt the same way I did. In darker times, when things didn't feel like they'd get any better, he was curious about his other-self.

I knew the answer was yes. But I liked hearing him talk about these things.

"Baby, it's something I've always wanted to do. I always...wanted to know if it was possible...to slip into that other world, find this house, and just hope and pray my wife would still be on the other side of that door. I'd kiss her hand and bring her back here. And, life would be complete." He confessed. His smile was sweet but also sad, "But you know, with old age comes difficulties. My brain ain't what it used to be. Just all these words. Sometimes, they're...foreign to me."

This was the beginning of a long year. All the signs started out small, usually, Grandpa looking out the window wondering when his wife would come back from the store and losing the ability to read.

And over time, it slowly began to escalate, getting worse with each month. So bad to the point he'd take his seat belt off at a red light and try to get out. Or he'd shout at Mom, saying she's going the wrong way. Every piece of my Grandpa was slipping away.

And it was all taking a toll on my own happiness.

"You look pretty today." Jujubee commented as we walked through the hallway.

"If you say so." That was all I could reply with.

"No, really. Your hair looks really cute like that." She tried again.

I had no idea what she was talking about. I literally pinned two pieces from the front to the back of my head. It was a half-assed attempt of trying to convince everyone I gave a fuck anymore.

"Yeah, right, Juju. I look no better than I did yesterday. Or the day before. And the day before that.

Jujubee paused for a moment, whereas I continued on. "Are you OK?"

I turned to look at her. "Yeah." I lied. "Why wouldn't I be?"

I wasn't ready for this, Jujubee concerns. The truth was I never told her about my Grandpa because then she'd want to talk about it, then I'd cry, then I'd probably go home and have a breakdown, then I'd give Mom more shit to worry about.

Judging from her knit brows, she wasn't buying it. Before she could even ask anything else, I turned back around, just wanting to get on with things and get to my next class on time. But Trevor just had to be there. He knocked me hard on the shoulder, making me drop my books and almost fall to the ground.

He quickly spun around, watching me collect my books. "Man, who put that trash there?"

I glanced at him with a scorn.

"Hey, douchebag," Jujubee stepped in front of Trevor, "I can see you're a little butt-hurt now that your sex life is dryer than a nuns vagina."

My eyes were wide now, knowing that wouldn't sit well.

"What did you fucking say to me?" Trevor raised a brow.

"You heard." Jujubee said with such spite. "Why don't you go rub one out to your Mom or something? Stop projecting all your problems onto my girl?"

Trevor scoffed a laugh. "Your girl? What are you, a couple of dykes?"

My jaw was almost on the ground. I looked around, noting the students observing as they passed by. I couldn't let them know my secret. I couldn't.

"Why? Does that make us all the more interesting?" Jujubee squinted her eyes. "Honey, don't pretend the thought of us 'dykes’ making out doesn't make an insecure guy like you hard."

A sound emitted from my throat - A panicked sound. Like a yell, one that was dragging its way up my throat, fighting to get out. The attention of everyone around was on the situation, since when? I had only become aware now of the sounds of thrill and excitement. I was internally panicking. How many people were there? Were they even looking at me?

"Not in your wildest dreams, honey." Trevor practically spat the last word before deciding he was finished. He turned and walked away.

Jujubee approached me, rolling her eyes. "God, does he know when to quit?"

But I just stared at her, pretty sure I was trembling. My eyes were still wide, and my jaw stiff.

"Brie?" She blinked.

I could feel it, the lump in my throat beginning to form, like a hard stone that was lodged in place. Blinking a few times, I held the books tighter to my chest and turned to walk away.

"Brianna, what the fuck?" Jujubee came after me.

"Juju, just...leave me the fuck alone." My voice cracked as I quickened my pace.

She didn't follow me anymore. Thank fuck. Because next thing I knew, I was in a bathroom cubicle, quietly crying. I stupidly decided to not go to class. I say stupidly because, during the last period, Denali leaned over and told me she thought they suspended me. When I asked why she would even think that, she said the rumours spread fast, that I had punched Jujubee.

Oh, high school drama.

Of course, Jujubee didn't deserve this. She was only doing her friendly duty and looking out for me. But I didn't need any more shit from Trevor. I didn't want all those eyes on me as I walked the corridors. My home life was already too much.

I wanted to hold on to my Grandpa for as long as I could. But seeing his health dwindle, it felt like someone was coming to get him. And no matter how much I wanted to hold on, they were going to take him away no matter what.

Around 7 months in, his immune system was beginning to fail. He was bedridden.

I'd sit with him for at least an hour every day, either reading to him, feeding him, or just having a long talk. I had a tendency to write down at least one sentence from each conversation like it would provide me with some comfort, like he was still there. When in reality he was...he was...

"Why the sad face, baby?"

I snapped out of my trance, blinking a few times as I looked at him. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"What happened? Did someone break your heart?" He asked, following it up with a laugh.

I let myself smile. "No, thank God. I'm just sleepy. I had a long day at school."

"That's a shame. I was gonna suggest we break out the old telescope. I bet we'd find Cassiopeia if we tried hard enough."

My mouth formed a hard line, unsure of how to respond. As much as I wanted so badly to sit out in the garden with him, he wouldn't even be able to make it there.

"You sure you're OK, Brianna?" Grandpa asked.

"Yeah, I'm just thinking." I looked away, studying my nails instead.

"Well, if it's not a heartache, I bet someones caught your eye?" He asked with a smirk.

I couldn't help but allow the corners of my lips to curve up. "Yeah, actually."

"Oooh." He cooed. "And what are they like?"

I thought for a second, debating how I should answer. To be honest or not. If I lied, would it even make a difference?

Looking at his innocent face, I decided fuck it.

"Sweet. Beautiful. The bluest eyes I've ever seen." I paused. "She's an absolute angel."

Grandpa was silent momentarily. But just as the nerves were beginning to surface, he replied, "and does she know how you feel?"

"No."

"Well, why don't you let her know?"

I took a deep breath in. "Because...I don't know if she likes me back. I don't know if she even likes girls."

"All you can do is try."

"It's not that simple," I spoke quietly. "She's...popular. She's beautiful. She's...everything that I'm not."

My eyes drifted to my hands once again. If I cried, would it even matter? Wouldn't he forget?

"Don't say that about yourself, honey." He reached a hand out and put it on mine. "You don't actually believe that, do you?"

I lifted my gaze again, looking at him with glossy eyes. My silence spoke volumes.

"Oh, no, Brianna." He said with such disappointment. "I can't believe you feel that way. Ain't you ever stopped to look at yourself?"

"No," I whispered. "I can't stand it."

"You need to. Because you are prettier than you know." His own eyes were glistening now. "You may not believe me, but someday you're gonna meet someone who will show you."

I dabbed the inner corner of my eye, "You really think that?"

"I know."

"That means a lot." I smiled.

He gave one final pat to my hand and pulled it away. "Do me a favour, honey. Could you get me some juice?"

"Sure."

I stood up and left for the kitchen.

On my way, I passed through the hall, catching a glance at my reflection. Naturally, I would have disregarded it. But I stopped and stood in front of it. And I just looked.

I wasn't immediately satisfied. But upon taking my glasses off, my opinion changed. I learned pretty quickly my eyes were the best from my facial features.

I smiled. Best not. My frown was oddly alluring. I tried smiling again, this time with teeth. But the braces just ruined the mood.

Putting my glasses on again, I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt tiny paws tap my feet. Of course, it was just Piggie. I scooped him up and looked at both of us together.

"God has favourites, Piggie. Take a wild guess out of us two who it is." I looked at his face in the mirror.

He cocked his head, looking at his own reflection like he couldn't figure out what was going on.

I carried on to the kitchen with Piggie still in my arms, poured the juice and made my way back to Grandpa's room.

I pushed open the door with my foot.

Grandpa's head quickly shot up as I walked in.

"Sorry it took so long. I - -"

"Who are you??"

I froze on the spot. "It's me."

"Roberta! Roberta, there's somebody in the fucking house!!"

My brain went into panic mode. I set the juice to the side, put Piggie out into the hall and approached the bed.

He was continuously shouting, thrashing around in the bed as if to escape. I tried grabbing his hands, reassuring him it was me, his Grandchild. We had literally just been talking.

But he only roared over the sound of my voice, trying to fight my hands off him.

"Pop! It's OK!" Mom rushed into the room. "It's just Brianna!"

I took a step back, letting her take control. He stared at me with an intense level of fear. What did he think I was going to do? Who did he think I was?

"Brie, go to your room or something. I'll calm him down." Mom commanded with a crack in her voice.

With a wavered breath, I left. The sounds of his shouts, I couldn't bear it. I had to get away, even for a little bit. I needed out.

I hurried out the front door, stuffing my arms inside my jacket sleeves, and marched down the path. I didn't even look back at the colourful house. I just wandered. Wherever my feet were going to take me, I'd be fine.

In a sense, I felt cruel, like I was selfish. Despite wanting to be around my Grandpa for as long as possible, I couldn't stand moments like these. But you'd think dealing with this for so long would have toughened me up a bit.

Not even in the slightest.

There I was, marching down the street, trying hard not to have an episode. I tried to maintain my breathing, but the fast pace in my step didn't help. My hands were clammy, not that having them in my pockets helped.

Again, I had no idea where I was going. My eyes remained fixated on the ground. Therefore I was oblivious to the person hastily approaching.

"Brianna, Jesus!"

Jujubee now stood in front of me with her hand on my shoulder. I opened my mouth to speak, but she beat me to it.

"I said your name like 5 times, girl." Jujubee dropped her hand. Her eyes looked me up and down, "What happened? You're shaking."

I was?

"I…" I tucked a strand of hair behind my hair, "I need a cigarette or something."

Jujubee dragged me to the bus shelter, sat me down on the ground like we were still children, parking our behinds wherever the fuck we wanted.

Despite the feeling of anxiety burning my insides, I did spark up a cigarette, anything to shift my thoughts from the current state of my family. Just something normal.

"Girl, are you sure that's a good idea right now?" Jujubee was itching to snatch it from my hand and toss it.

Instead, I said, "Jujubee?"

"Yeah?"

Eyes still glued to the ground, I blinked, "This is it. He's dying."

Jujubee didn't even need to ask. She knew about his dementia for months now. I had no choice but to tell her. The stress from it all got too much, and I was becoming more and more irritable. It was unfair to put her through that. I had to tell her everything.

Jujubee shuffled closer, "What happened?"

I couldn't bring myself to even tell her. Words couldn't even begin to describe the feeling. That feeling of just grabbing him by the hand, and running away as far as possible, so this sickness would just leave us alone.

I blew out a long cloud of smoke, closing my eyes as I let my chest deflate.

There was something about this moment in time. 9PM, at the bus shelter, sitting on the cold ground, smoking a cigarette, Jujubee by my side, her hand now in mine. It didn't feel real. None of it did.

Yet this wasn't foreign to me - This bus stop was the same one from my childhood, that day when baby Blair and I hid from the rain. Funny how the younger version of myself thought I was protecting her from her abusive father.

As bad of a time it was, the thought was comforting in the current moment, sitting there with Blair. The only problem I faced those days was my emotional outbursts and the emotional toll they took on my Mom. Oh, how naive I was, completely unaware of how life could get any harder.

Only 3 weeks later, Grandpa was hospitalised, his immune system reaching its lowest point. I visited him every day after school. There were more moments of forgotten memory, but it made it less frightening with Mom by my side.

One day in particular, however, he seemed in better spirits. It was as if the old him was back, just for a few hours.

"I'm going to the soda machine. You want anything, baby?" Mom stood up from her chair, pulling her purse from her bag.

"I'm good." I gave her a gracious smile.

She nodded, taking another look at my Grandpa before she even moved to the door. I could see the reluctance behind her eyes. She did this every time she left the room, no matter where she was going.

My eyes followed her as she left. Grandpa spoke, "Now that she's gone, any update on that girl?" He asked. I looked back in surprise. How he had remembered that was mind-blowing. He continued, "we haven't had a one-to-one conversation in a long time, honey. Give me an update."

I breathed a sigh out, lifting my brows briefly. "Nothing has become of it, no."

"Go get her, kiddo. You've got nothing to lose."

I smiled sadly. Easier said than done, Grandpa.

He coughed. "Lord, I'd love a cigarette right about now. Do me a favour, though; please stop smoking."

I wasn't completely shocked. He had noticed on a few occasions that he was down a cigarette. "I will." I wasn't lying. But I wasn't making any promises either.

"Brianna?" Grandpa looked at me now.

"Yeah?" I put my feet up on his bed, leaning back in my chair.

"Promise me one thing?"

"Of course."

His eyes remained on me, and he smiled briefly. "Promise me that you'll find a way to the other world. Could you do that for me?"

I had to admit, It was a huge thing to ask of someone like me. It was terrible to say, but I couldn't help but feel this was sort of selfish. Yes, he was on the brink of death, but how could he expect me to be such a miracle worker.

Instead of protesting, however, I just said, "Sure."

Two days later, he passed away.

I didn't cry at all, vowing that I would remain strong for Mom. I had already had my turn at grieving my own parents. And she was by my side for all of that.

Now it was my turn to be there for her. Throughout the whole funeral, I had my arms wrapped around her shoulders, like she had done for me throughout the years. It was a strange feeling - being the one to take care of her for a change. Her head on my chest, hand squeezing mine, it was just so hard to accept.

I almost thought she was going to crumble when they lowered his casket into the ground.

As I said before, there are two types of people in this world; those who hate the sight of their Mother crying and fucking liars.

Because, even though she was my Mother, she was his little girl. And losing a parent is losing a huge part of your life.

Everyone was invited back to the house after the funeral in the hopes the togetherness would lighten the mood.

Of course, it didn't fix everything, but it did allow us some time to breathe.

"You OK, Brianna?" Aunt Monét asked as I handed her some tea.

"I'm fine." Obviously, that was a lie.

I really did think I was doing everyone a favour by putting up the strong front. Little did I know the toll this would take on my own emotional well being. That whenever Grandpa came up in conversation, I'd run. If only I had realised that sooner.

I was afraid of questions like Monét had asked. So school would be a nightmare. Thankfully I was granted 2 weeks off.

The first week I lay in bed, watching box sets of The X Files. Pretty sure I almost gave myself a bladder infection from just laying there too long.

The second week, I finally decided to stop lying around and be useful. Mom recommended I break out the telescope one night. So I invited Jujubee over. I warned her beforehand that she was not to ask me any concerning questions or treat me any different. Of course, she was different with me. But she didn't ask any questions. We just carried on, looking up at the stars through the telescope.

The same week, I also found myself sitting in his room, feeling his presence very much there with me. So I took to reading his books out loud in the hopes I could keep his spirit entertained.

However, I only became interested in the books myself. I read one book. Then another. And another. And another. Fiction and non-fiction. All based on parallel universes. I couldn't get enough of it.

And reading turned into studying - taking notes, hypothesising, questioning.

And then I got Jujubee interested. Just 4 weeks after beginning, it was more than just a hobby. It was a prospect.

-_-_-_-

2020

"Miss. Caldwell. Miss Caldwell, ma'am."

I snapped back to reality, embarrassed that I had even blacked out at all. You'd think I'd know there were more important things at stake, now that I was in the presence of the Secretary of Defence, at a meeting in the middle of an almost empty hangar. Everyone around me, my team included, were important people. I needed them to believe I was on the same level as they were.

"Yes, the atmosphere of the other world," I said, hoping he would think I was listening.

"We're beyond that point now, actually." The General pointed out, standing with his hands behind his back. I couldn't lie. I felt intimidated by him, what with the uniform and all.

I glanced at his black badge, which matched mine. Did that mean I was a general like him now? Were we even on the same level? 'Cause when I woke up that morning, I tripped over my own feet and almost hit my head off the ground. I couldn't be on this guy's level.

"I asked if this place would be big enough for the construction of the rocket." He asked.

I looked around at the wide space. Yeah, it was huge, but when it came to constructing a rocket, that was all beyond me. Sure, it would probably take a good 3 minutes to walk from one end to the other. But was it high enough? I had no idea what I could even say to this guy. "Yeah, it's good."

I hoped it would be good.

"Then it's yours." He gave a quick smile. It didn't make me feel any less intimidated. He began pointing out different sections of the place, a small lab in one corner, offices in another, along the left wall was a cafeteria, and 4 sets of surprisingly clean bathrooms.

All this space, it was mine. And only an hour after the meeting with the General, we were already shipping equipment over.

"This is wild. You could fit two concert halls in here." Jujubee slipped an arm around my shoulders, the pair of us watching as a truck pulled into the hangar, carrying more gear.

I blew a sigh of relief out through my mouth. "I just can't believe this is happening. Like, why me, of all people? When do good things ever happen like this? Like, didn't I always say 'why do bad things happen to good people?'"

Jujubee laughed, "girl, good things DO happen to you. You have a luxury apartment in New York, you're filthy rich, you're a celebrity." She playfully punched me in the arm.

"Well, you're not wrong." I shrugged.

"You deserve every bit of this." She turned to get a better look at me. "You fought for so long to get people on board with this project. You continued on when people doubted you when they laughed. I think you deserve good things to happen to you."

I smiled bashfully, looking to the ground for a brief moment, "Aw, Juju," looking back to her, she lifted a hand and held my cheek. Naturally, I would have shied away, but not now. At this moment, I absolutely adored this bitch. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"I know. You've told me." She pinched my cheek before looking away.

Her hand fell by her side, so I took it in mine. "No, really. You think I would have continued without you here? You remember all those times I wanted to give up? All the times you called me out on my bullshit?"

"Hey, somebody had to do it." She shrugged in return yet swung my hand.

"That's very true." I looked at her for a moment longer. Only now did I notice the way her lashes fluttered when she blinked, how cute that was.

Her eyes moved around the large space again. "Think we could fit a Starbucks in here?"

I pulled my gaze away from her, also having another look around. "Girl, you could fit fucking 10 Starbucks in here." I raised a brow in her direction then. "Should I?"

She laughed as she continued to swing my hand like we were just children again. Honestly, that's what I felt like; A small child in her own Kingdom.

[ticklikeabomb]

Clumsy - One-shot

Pairing : Henry Cavill x Plus Size Reader (Neutral He/She/They)

Warnings : Language ; Innuendos

Word Count : 2.1k

A/N : One-shot not planned to be posted today but hey why not :) Trying to be as neutral as I could, so that everyone can identify themselves, no matter the gender :) Hope you like it.

It was that time of the year again. The time hundreds of fans were waiting for - San Diego's Comic Con Event. It was time for you not only to attend this major Event as an actress/actor but also as a fan yourself. The Comic Con was featuring different panels during the weekend. Stars of shows like Supernatural, Gotham, The Walking Dead or The Originals were walking the same ground you were now standing. Frighten, excitement, thrill, joy, you name it, all those emotions bubbling in you. And what more of a fabulous experience than living it with a fabulous cast. You were Marvel's new addition and were part of the panel's headline, alongside Robert Downey Jr, Mark Ruffalo, Scarlet Johannson, Chris Hemsworth, Jeremy Renner, Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Anthony Mackie, Elisabeth Olsen, Tom Holland, Paul Betthany and Samuel L. Jackson. All great names and especially all great people that quickly became your little small second family.

You were all standing backstage waiting to be called by the host. You repeated your mantra in order to keep your nerves at bay and smiled brightly when you saw RDJ doing an entrance like only he mastered. Your friends were being called one by one until only you and Tom Holland remained. "Hey it's gonna be ok, relax and enjoy", he told you and gave your shoulder a small squeeze. You nodded and saw him climb the stairs and walk down the stage.

"And finally but not least, welcome Y/N YLN", the host's voice echoed through the gigantic room. You took a deep breath and stepped on stage. Hundreds of people applauding and yelling. It was overwhelming and at your left, you caught the sight of a group of people cosplaying your character. You gasped a little and waved at them, still walking on stage. At some point when you looked the opposite direction you were face to face with the host. 'The hell', you thought and he laughed loudly. You looked behind you and noticed that you crossed the whole cast. Because you were so mesmerized and focused on the fans cosplaying your character you didn't notice that you passed way your standing point. "Sorry", you mouthed at the host. You smiled nervously and did the walk of shame back to your position, passing by a laughing cast. "That started well", you mumbled to yourself, a little embarrassed. You waited until the host gave you permission and took a seat when so, indicating that the panel officially began.

45 minutes later

Wandering across the wave of people, a male stature in a Vendetta mask made his way to support one of his colleagues. That man being none other than Henry Cavill. The British actor was in town to start a new project and since he settled down a week earlier to prepare for his role, he decided to take some fresh air and stop by the Con to support Jason Momoa that was promoting Aquaman. He came across the board and saw that Aquaman's panel was after the Marvel one. He still had an hour to wait, so decided to judge the competition by himself. He entered the panel and discretely found a place to sit.

The panel was going well, the Marvel cast always amazing in interacting with their fans or tell jokes. "I know you have strict orders to not reveal anything but is there by chance some funny moment on set that you might be able to share with us?", asked the host curiously. RDJ looked at your direction and smirked. Your eyes immediately widened, scared about what he might reveal. The cast followed his gaze and once they settled on you, some of them laughed and smirked. 'Oh shit', you thought. The host caught the movement and smiled, "I see there's something, come on tell us."

"I don't know if we're allowed to tell but it's just too good to not mention it", finally replied RDJ. You discretely shook your head, pleading him to not reveal whatever he had in mind and his smirk grew even wider. He took a deep breath and faced the audience, who was ecstatic, waiting for any juicy detail. "So, Evans, Y/N and myself had that scene together."

"Oh No", your voice was heard through the mic while you face-palmed yourself. The cast laughed and RDJ continued. "It was a rather dramatic scene, lots of tension between Cap and Iron Man. There's a moment where Y/N's character is suppose to say 'Improvise', which was in the script. But for some reason, she/he/they got the message wrong and instead of saying the line, she/he/they actually began to improvise the whole dialogue and began to blabber some nonsense that was absolutely not scripted", stuttered RDJ in laughter. The whole cast, the host and the audience began to laugh and you just wished you could die. You couldn't deny that it was actually funny but at the moment of the shooting it was not. "Right and then the Russo Brothers yelled 'Cut' and asked her/him/them what was she/he/they talking about and she/he/they replied that she/he/they improvised like it stood in the script…and … and we were all cracking. It was hilarious’’ ,Evans finished the story while he whipped his tears off.

"Are you really crying of laughter right now?", you asked him in disbelief but amusement written all over your face. He nodded and continued laughing. "You're not visualizing her/his/their face when she/he/they finally got that her/his/their line all along was only the word 'Improvise'. Your face was priceless", he said and looked back at you. You chuckled and shook your head, a small smile ornamenting your face. "The cut made it to the movie actually", suddenly exclaimed Joe Russo out of nowhere. "Whatttt?", your high pitched voice rang across the room. "Yeah, we thought it was hilarious, especially Stark and Roger's confused face and what you said during that scene was kind of funny so, we showed it to Kevin Feige and he loved it." The cast applauded and you smiled while shaking your head, not believing it.

It was now time for some fans to step in and ask their questions. By the 6th question, a fan asked, "Who was/is the clumsiest person among all of you?" Without hesitation everyone exclaimed 'Y/N' in unison. "Not gonna deny that", you replied back with a small chuckle. "I'm such a mess. On set, I fell more times than it's socially acceptable and I've punched two stunt men by accident. I'm still so sorry guys", you said while turning to the camera, apologizing for what felt like the millionth time. A male fan took the mic and asked " I know this is maybe a controversial matter but I'm curious, are you all devoted to Marvel or is there a character that you still love but that it's part of the DC Universe?"

The room erupted at the question, eager to know the cast's response. "Well I for sure know someone who's been cheating on Marvel and went to the dark side", exclaimed Anthony Mackie while giving you a judgmental look. Sebastian who was at his side laughed at his friend’s innuendo and your face heat up. "Why are you looking at me? I don't know what you're talking about", you told him. He smirked and nodded, "Yeah yeah don't play that innocent act on me, I know that you have the hots for a certain Superman." Your eyes widened and you gasped, not believing that he dared to say that. Well what could you expect, Mackie and a mic, of course he would. People were shouting in the audience at this point and you chuckled. "Alright, I confess but can you blame me? He's fine as hell, not my fault", you revealed making the room erupt in loud screams and whistles. "God I hope Henry Cavill will never see or hear about this. It would be so embarrassing", you said and hid your face in your hands. If you knew that he was actually in the audience, never would those words leave your mouth.

"Alright I've got to know Y/N : Captain America or Superman?", asked the host out of nowhere. You chuckled and face-palmed yourself again, feeling the heat burn your cheeks.  You thought for a second and decided that it was the moment to really impress your colleagues and show them a different and more playful side of yourself. "It's not my type but fuck it, I'll take both", you exclaimed triumphantly once seeing your friends's shocked expression, not expecting you being so bold. You smirked and wiggled your eyebrows playfully. "Wow and here I thought you were the innocent one", replied Evans. "I never said I was innocent", you teased back. He raised an eyebrow and smirked back at you. Unfortunately you couldn't keep up with the whole mysterious and intriguing persona and chuckled at the situation, not believing that you dared saying that in front of hundreds of people. "That's it for us. Thank you so much for coming to the Marvel Panel and enjoy the rest of the day", exclaimed the host and closed the Panel.

Henry was surprised to have a good time at the Marvel Panel. He knew some of the cast members and was friends with them. But who really caught his attention was Marvel's new addition, Y/N. He thought you were beautiful and talented. He saw in one of your movies and was intrigued by you since and seeing you in flesh and bones made his heart beat just a tab faster. He laughed at your coworkers teasing about you being clumsy but what he didn't expect was you revealing that you found him hot. He smirked behind his mask and quickly exited the room as soon as the host closed it. He couldn't stop thinking about your voice mixed with your deep gaze and smirk, your teasing leaving him clearly flustered. Without noticing his feet led him to the Marvel signing booth and he didn't hesitate. He waited in line to get to you. After a good half hour, he finally reached you. "For who should I sign it?", her/his melodic voice invaded his eardrums. "Henry", he declared. His voice caught the attention of C.Evans who studied the man standing in front of you.

You were about to look back at the man in front of you when you noticed that your jacket had fallen of your chair. You quickly turned in order to grab it and when your gaze returned to the fan in front of you, you let out a small high-pitched scream. Not expecting to see the one you just publicly declared that you had the hots for in front of you, made you jump a little on your chair, your knee hitting the table and your plastic glass falling right at his trousers, wetting his crotch. "OMG I'm so sorry !!!!", you exclaimed mortified. Evans was laughing loudly beside you and declared, "Already trying to get into his pants Y/N?" You turned his way and gave him a deadly look mixed with embarrassment, making him laugh even more.   "I'm so so so sorry", you apologized to him. You handed him napkins and he took them with a bright smile on his face. "It's ok don't worry about it." There were no stronger words to describe how horrified you were. "I'm gonna go and die now", you mumbled and handed him a new fresh set of napkins. He laughed at your antics and declared, "Wait, not before I get the opportunity to invite you to a date." Your eyes almost popped out of your head and you stuttered, "You wan-na go on a date w-with me?" A bright smile crossed his face and you were so mesmerized by his blue eyes that you didn't hear his answer. You cleared your voice and replied, "Excuse me, what?" He chuckled and replied "You're cute"

"No you are", you breathed out, your brain not functioning correctly anymore. He chuckled again and you adverted your gaze elsewhere, "Ehh, i mean haha. Funny", you stuttered and mentally slapped yourself. "So would you go on a date with me?", he asked again. You nodded without hesitation, "Yes, I-I would love to." He borrowed your pen and wrote his number down. Before handing it to you, he leaned further making you stop breathing for a second and he whispered so that only you got it, " And so that you know, I don't like to share what's mine !" Heat and goosebumps crept all over your body, realizing he told you that because of the Captain America vs Superman comment. He winked and you saw him leaving. "You're drooling all over the place", commented Evans. You rolled your eyes and replied "Shutttt uppp". You bit your lip not realizing that you just got your crush's number and that he asked you on a date.

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[incorrectunrulyprincesses]

Underland’s Unruly Princesses: March of the Witch Hunters (aka the crossover) chapter 4

Rosalind II

It was no secret that Ember hated my father, Ilosovic Stayne the Knave of Hearts. She said he was an ignorant one eyed gorilla who cheated on mother several times with various ladies of the court when she carried me inside her and that's why he lost his eye. I knew better than to ask either of my parents if there was any truth to this. When I was nine, she also claimed that he attempted to spoon her in her bedchamber. I don't know if this is officially true or not, but after that claim, mother made both of us sleep in her bed for about a year, and I didn't see my father at all during that time because he was put on ice in the dungeon.

But once I realized I wasn't going to get anywhere with Auntie Mary and Auntie Sarah, apart from my birthday gifts that is, I knew I had to ask him for help. I got all the attention I wanted from Mother, Ember, my aunties, and mother's old friend and our cook, Mrs. Nellie Lovett, but my father was distant. He was probably busy carrying out Mother's orders. Still, the only time he spent with me was with everyone else, or when he tried to teach me how to spar which mother quickly stopped him from.

"Princesses don't fight with steel." Mummy insisted when she caught me fencing with my father on her croquet lawn and promptly dragged me off by one arm. In hindsight, I think Daddy wanted me to be a boy.

The Resistance made a big deal out of the fact that Mother executed her husband, took several lovers over the course of her reign, and had no "legitimate" children. Ember and I were often referred to as "Royal Bastards." Mummy countered this slander by saying that Ember's father was the resistance leader, Tarrant Hightopp, the Hatter, and that the only reason she killed her husband was that he tried to kill Ember when she was a toddler and pushed him off her balcony. Not only that, but she was also pregnant with me at the time and couldn't keep him around long enough for him to find out that she had another child who wasn't his. Besides, he was a cheating asshole just like my father. Worse than my father in fact because he'd been screwing her own sister!

I wish I looked more like my mother. She and Ember had the same red hair, only Ember's hair was more ginger than red. I had only my mother's porcelain skin, dainty features, long eyelashes, and aching feet, and my father's bright sky blue eyes, but unlike either of them, I was born with an abundance of long, thick, wavy honey-colored tresses falling almost to my knees which was strange at first, but then it was revealed that my maternal grandmother, Queen Elsemere was a blonde, so I guess it wasn't that odd. Like my sister, I had a curvaceous, voluptuous body and had always been rather busty for my age.

As we walked to Daddy's chamber, I thought about my interaction with Auntie Sarah and Auntie Mary. They were quick to praise my singing of Nellie's songs and rewarded me with my birthday presents. Auntie Mary gave me a beautiful cake, six layers high decorated with red buttercream roses with golden leaves. Two layers were chocolate fudge cake filled with cheesecake, two were chocolate chip cookie dough cake filled with cheesecake, and two were red velvet cake filled with cheesecake. The whole thing was frosted in fudge and cream cheese frosting. She told me I was getting too skinny and insisted I eat the whole thing myself before I started singing. Auntie Sarah gave me some a beautiful choker, black velvet ribbon with a golden rose briar pattern embroidered into it, three new gowns, and a red bow made from the same fabric of my mother's favorite gown with a miniature version of mother's scepter as the clasp. I thanked them and asked them where Auntie Winnie was.

"In your mother's study," was Auntie Sarah's reply,

"In the garden," said Auntie Mary at the same time. Then they looked at each other oddly.

"In your mother's study," said Auntie Mary.

"In the garden," said Auntie Sarah.

I knew now that she was neither in the garden or Mummy's study and grew suspicious. Ember's story confirmed these suspicions and I knew we had to send my father out to find the Witch Hunters in our world and arrest them immediately. We would put a bounty on their heads and snuff them out. If not, I could use my baby Jabberwockies that mother gave me when I turned fourteen, Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion, on them. They were my babies. Drogon was now large enough to ride, but the others could set things on fire and probably burn people alive.

I rapped sharply on door to my father's room with Ember close behind.

"Exactly why are you dragging me to visit your father?" Ember asked me.

"Because he listens to you and not me." I said blankly, stating the obvious and trying to school the twinge of envy from my voice.

"You're his daughter, though," Ember torted. "Not me. Besides, he abandoned you."

"I think you scare him." I smirked. "Why does Mummy even keep him around anyway?"

Ember chuckled lowly. "I haven't a clue, sis. Sometimes I swear Mum forgets why she does things."

"Well either way you get through to him better than I do that's why you're coming with me." I banged on the door again. "DADDY! GET YOUR STUPID FUCKING DEADBEAT ARSE OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!" I yelled.

"Or I'll tell Mummy you sometimes like to wank to pictures of Aunt Mirana!" Ember chimed in an annoying tone. I giggled like a little girl.

Ember laughed as my Father whipped the door open. She had Aunt Winnie's book in the crook of her arm. She had not stopped carrying it around since Mum gave it to her.

"The fuck do you brats want?" he demanded. I stared him down.

"Well, well, well, Stayne, I'd expected you to be thrilled by our appearance," Ember cooed in a sarcastic tone. "I guess I was totally wrong with that assumption." Without even asking, Ember just shoved her way into his room. Giggling, I followed her.

My father's single good eyes followed Ember as she went to the middle of the room and sat in a chair by the hearth. "It's an emergency." I insisted.

Oddly enough, my father sighed, then he crossed the room and sat across from Ember and I. "Considering that I have nothing better to attend to, I guess I will listen to your little pitiful sob story."

"It's the witch hunters. We have reason to believe there are some in our world that will stage an uprising and kill us all. We need you to find them."

My father's face twisted into a disgusted expression. "Witch hunters, you say?" He drew a small knife from his belt and began to wave it around. "What's in it for me?" he demanded of us.

Ember's cheeks began to flush red, and I could tell that Mum's temper was about to take over. "What's in it for you? You ignorant buffoon! If these Witch Hunters are even allowed to execute a single witch, they will begin to destroy the rest of us! Can't you see that we are peculiar compared to those from Above? We are nothing but alien to them. If they infiltrate the different worlds, we are all doomed. Underland and Above will be wiped clean. That includes everyone and everything!"

Ember had the ability to talk very, very fast when she was pissed off, much like Mum. I had always thought that she could easily out-talk anyone when she was about to rage. "If you don't do this for me, your own flesh and blood, do this for yourself!" I snapped.

Ember sprang from her chair. "DO IT FOR YOUR QUEEN!" She hissed stridently. It frightened me a little how angry she was getting. "Do it for the sake of having a woman to stick your dinky little prick into!" I clapped a gloved hand over my mouth in an attempt to stop the laughter that threatened to burst out.

I don't know whether it was the idea of not being able to lay again, or Ember's temper, but my father's jaw dropped. "Yes, your highness. Right away." He stumbled to his feet. He came over to me, dropped a peck on my cheek, dropped a heavy coin purse into my lap.

In one swift motion, he swiped his sword from the rack on the wall, and he began to jog from the room.

I wiped it off, quickly, but shoved the money into my cleavage. I wasn't used to his fake affection, but the money was nice and very much appreciated. Ever since his latest betrayal, Mum demanded he pay child support for my upkeep. About two million pounds sterling a month to be exact.

Ember sniggered next to me. She wrapped her fingers around Aunt Winnie's book and she giggled. "Well, Sis, looks like we got that taken care of."

"We make an excellent team. Remind me never to piss you off like that. Ever."I joked.

"Not to worry, Ros, dear. You shall never know the extent of my true temper." Holding the book to her chest, she rose from her chair. "Now, then, I suggest we go and find Mum."

"She'll be happy to know your favorite person paid his child support on time. How long do you think he'll last out there?" I wondered, walking out with my sister.

She shrugged. "Who knows? Hopefully long enough for us to find Aunt Winifred before the Witch Hunters take her down."

"While we're on the subject, there's something you should know." I confessed. "I've been having these weird nightmares about a black cat loitering around a condemned building in the Above. Do you think it has anything to do with Auntie Winnie?"

Ember stopped dead in her tracks. "That's funny, Ros. I, too, have seen the apparition of a feline, black as coal. I didn't think anything of it at all. You know what this means?" I shook my head.

"We must question Mum," she said flatly. "Even if you leave the talking to me. I think she knows more that she lets onto."

"I'll go with you...for moral support. But I don't want Mum to be mad at me." I said.

"It's decided then. I will do the talking." And with that, she trudged down the corridor. I followed.

[d-noona]

MAKE OVER

Chapter 6: Euphoria

Jung Hoseok x Reader

Reader as Kang Hyeonji

SUMMARY: When Kang Hyeonji transformed herself into a striking redhead, the entire male population of Seoul stood up and took notice. But her make over was for Jung Hoseok’s benefit alone. He began to show interest in the new look but not in the way she wanted. Suddenly he was over-protective, perhaps a little jealous. It seemed that the idea of having a relationship with her couldn’t be further from his mind. The girl however wants more. So it was time for an ultimatum. If Hoseok didn’t want Hyeonji to lose her virginity to another admirer, he had no option but to make love to her himself.

After seeking help from one of Taehyung and Jimin's recommendations for her make up tutorial Hyeonji took several lessons with Seokjin. He was a splendid man who had a face of an angel who taught her to differentiate a blusher from a bronzer.

Hyeonji was practicing her daytime make-up routine the following Sunday morning when the telephone rang. "Can you answer that, Mum?" she called out.

There was no reply and the phone kept on ringing. Hyeonji suddenly remembered that her mother had gone down to the corner store to buy the Sunday papers. Carefully, she put down her new mascara wand then hurried downstairs to sweep the receiver.

"Hi there," she said breezily.

"Hyeonji? Is that you?"

Her heart caught the sound of Hoseok's voice, reminding her forcibly how much she loved this man. The realization wrenched her momentarily out of her newly found optimism, bringing her down to earth with a thud. But then she regathered herself, her spirits lifting with the thought that Hoseok was actually calling her. That was a first!

"It certainly is me, Hobi. Don't I sound like me?"

"Actually, no...you sound different, somehow." He replies.

"Really...?" Well I look different too, she was tempted to add, but didn't want to spoil the surprise when he eventually saw her in the flesh. "Sorry. It's just the little old me," she went on, smiling to herself. Her height was one thing she simply could not change. Though the four-inch heels she'd tried on yesterday and which would buy shortly certainly gave her a taller view of the world. "So to what do I owe the dubious honor of you call?"

"Are you being sarcastic?"

Hyeonji chuckled at the shocked tone of his question. "Who, me? Never!"

"Have you been drinking?" he sounded almost crass. "This early on a Sunday morning?" it was five past ten. "Which brings me to a repeat of my question. Why are you calling me?"

"What? Oh, I um...I'm on my way to help Mother move some furniture around. She's decided she's bored with the layout in the living rooms. Actually, I think it was just an excuse to get me home and feed me up. Anyway, I thought of you saying the other night that you don't get fed properly at home, and I was wondering if you'd like to join us for lunch."

"Join you for lunch," she repeated, swallowing convulsively and immediately going blank. "You don't have to sound so thrilled," came his testy remark. "I realize I'm not your Mr. X but I've always thought you enjoyed my company."

"Oh, but I do!" she hastened to assure him. "I mean, I...I..."

"You have something else on? Is that it?"

Hyeonji tried to pull herself together. It was the shock, which was all it was. She glanced in the wall mirror above the telephone table and nerves immediately besieged her. Would Hoseok think she looked fantastic when he saw her? Might he be inspired to ask her out on a date, like Jungkook had? A real date?

"No, nothing else on," she said at last. "And I'd love to join you and your mother for lunch. Would you like me to help you move the furniture as well?"

"Would you?"

"Love to. Make-overs are my thing this week," she says.

"What?"

"Nothing," she muttered, and wished she were more confident of Hoseok's reaction to her own make-over. "I'll come see you in about fifteen minutes, then. Just come over when you see my car."

"But...but..."

"Look, I'm ringing you from my mobile and I'd better hang up before I get into trouble."

He hung up and Hyeonji groaned into the dead receiver.

Fifteen minutes. Oh God...

With a shriek, she dropped the receiver back into place and dashed upstairs, throwing open her wardrobe and searching for something Hoseok might like. No pants, she reminded herself, and past over the cheap tights and track suit pants she lived around the house. Her eyes went to the black crop top she'd bought the previous day, the only item of clothing she could afford.

But she had nothing to go with it. In despair, she pulled a pair of white shorts, though bought two years back when she'd been larger, she never actually got around to wearing the thing since it didn't fit her then. She tried on the shorts, looking at the mirror it hugged her bottom nice and tight. It looked good. Plus it was too hot for jeans, and she didn't have enough time to find anything else.

Ten minutes had flown since Hoseok had called. Shoving her feet into tan sandals, Hyeonji spun round to the dressing-table to finish her make-up, but her hands were shaking so badly she had to abandon applying mascara. Fortunately, she'd already done her eyeshadow and eyeliner, adding enough depth and definition to her eyes for casual daytime wear. She had a light powder on and cheek tint were in place. All that was left to do was her lip tint.

This last thought sent Hyeonji's pulse racing. There was only one man she'd want to wake up with in the morning with her make-up still intact. Somehow, the red lip tint found its proper place without wondering all over her face. It gave an impression of a plump luscious lips.

She did a quick brush of her hair, several deep, steadying breaths and she was ready. Just in time, too, for when she leant across her bed to glance through her bedroom window she was greeted by the sight of Hoseok's new red car coming up the hill.

Her stomach tightened another notch, her heart pounding. One last glance at her shorts and crop top brought a grimace of and another flicker of doubt. The last thing Hyeonji needed at that moment was to come downstairs and be met with her mother's open scorn.

Zil walked in the front door just as Hyeonji approached it. "And where do you think you're off to with your face all done up like a dog's dinner? No. You don't have to tell me. I can guess. I saw his car pass by as I walked up the hill, and you're running straight over to parade yourself in front of him. Dear heaven, but you're a fool, Kang Hyeonji! That girlfriend of his would still run rings around you for looks and style. You can tart yourself up all you like and it won't make a blind bit of difference. Not where Hoseok is concerned. Of course there are other men around here who aren't so particular. Not that they ever marry the girls they ask out."

For a few seconds, Hyeonji's confidence in her appearance wavered. But she'd come too far to allow anyone to undermine her newly found self-esteem. Not that her mother's nasty comments hadn't hurt.

"Maybe I'm not in Tinashe's league in the looks department Mum," she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "But I still think I look pretty good. And I'll have you know I'm not running over there to parade myself in front of Hobi. He rang me while you were out and asked me over for lunch. It seems that he and Tinashe have broken up. Maybe I don't stand a chance with him, Mum, but that's no excuse for your trying to put me down like that. It was mean."

To give her credit her mother looked shocked, then stricken with remorse. "Oh, Hyeonji... I... I... Oh, dear. Oh, I'm so sorry. I... I just don't want to see you hurt..."

"Then stop hurting me," she countered, sweeping out of the house before her mother could say another word, anger propelling her down the front path. As she stalked out onto the roadway and turned right, Hyeonji indulged in some none too ladylike mutterings.

"My, my," drawled a male voice. "Does that brand-new temper come with the brand-new hair?"

Hyeonji scudded to a ragged halt, her eyes whipping up to see Hoseok leaning against his open car door, watching her. His eyes immediately narrowed on her newly made-up face, then lifted to once again take in her new crowning glory. She couldn't tell if he approved of her transformation or not.

"You...you don't like it?" she almost groaned after a few seconds silence, one hand flying up to touch her hair in that age-old feminine gesture which invited reassurance. Hoseok straightened and slammed the cardoor before glaring back her way. "Don't be ridiculous. What's not to like? You look fantastic. But I think you already know that, don't you?"

Hyeonji glared back at him. So much for Hoseok being bowled over her sudden beauty. "I only did what you suggested the other night," she defended hotly. "True. But honestly I never expected you to do it. I guess I underestimated the power of your Mr. X. So...has he seen the new hair yet?"

Hyeonji bristled, then lifted her small chin too at Hoseok straight in the eye. "Yes, he has, as a matter of fact."

"I suppose he said you looked fantastic."

Once again, Hyeonji was spurred on to play an ironic game with the truth. Somehow, it soothed the pain of Hoseok's ongoing blindness. How could he not guess? She agonized inside. Couldn't he see her love for him?

"Actually they were his exact words," she tossed back coolly. His frown was instant "Where is it that you see this...Don Juan?" he demanded to know. Hyeonji smiled a darkly devious smile. It amused her that Mr. X didn't favor with Hoseok. If only he knew!

"Oh he lives nearby, and I run into him from time to time. But as I said before, my love life is really none of your business, is it? Now shouldn't we be going inside to help your mother with the furniture?" she went on with more forcefulness than was usually her nature. "Time is wasting, you know, and I have to get back to practicing my new make-up before the working week begins. I aim to knock their socks off tomorrow morning."

He threw her an incredulous glance, then shook his head "They say women change their personalities when they change their hair color. I'm beginning to believe it."

"Oh? Did you know Tinashe before she peroxided her hair? Was she a sweet little thing before she became a bottle-blonde?" raising an eyebrow at Hoseok. "We're not talking about Tinashe here, Miss Sarcasm. Which is exactly the sort of thing I'm referring to. You were never one to be bitchy before. Neither did you go around swearing under your breath."

Hyeonji places one hand on her waist then looks at Hoseok straight in the eyes "Maybe you just never heard me before. Maybe you don't know the real me at all, Hoseok. Maybe you've never stopped to smell the flowers."

"Stopped to smell the flowers? What in the hell has my stopping to smell the flowers got to do with you turning into a shrew?" says the infuriated man. Hyeonji laughed while Hoseok scowled. It was that moment when his mother opened her front door and came onto the porch to stare over them.

Mrs. Jung was a beautiful woman. Somewhere in her late forties, she was tall and slender, intelligent brown eyes and a shimmering black hair which fell to her shoulders in a stylish bob. Unlike her son she obviously liked women in trousers for she lived in them. Today she was wearing a loose pair of fawn cotton trousers with a bright floral floaty over blouse.

She lifted her hand to shade her eyes from the sunlight, squinting down at this strange young woman with her son. Heyonji smiled with satisfaction when she realized Hoseok's mothers didn't recognize her.

"Hi Mother," Hoseok waved. "Be right with you. Hyeonji here is going to help us."

"Hyeonji?" his mother repeated, frowning.

"Hyeonji? Oh my goodness, it's Hyeonji! From next door!" she smiled at her. "Yes, it's Hyeonji from next door," Hoseok said as he pecked his mother on the cheek, then threw Hyeonji a dry look over his shoulder. "In a fashion..."

"I'm so sorry Hyeonji dear," Hoseok's mother directed at Hyeonji with an apologetic smile. "I didn't recognize you with that stunning new hair color and style. My, but it suits her, doesn't it, Hoseok? She looks like a different girl entirely."

"She does indeed," Hoseok said in a tone which had his mother raising her eyebrows at him before turning to take Hyeonji's arm. "Who did it for you, dear?" she asked as she led her inside. "I'm always on the lookout for a good hairdresser."

They stopped together in the tiled foyer while Hyeonji raved about Taehyung's abilities and moderate prices, till Hoseok finally interrupted. "Have I come home to move furniture or not?"

"Don't be rude, dear," Mrs. Jung told him dismissively. "The furniture can wait. It's not going anywhere. I'll just go put on the jug and catch up with Hyeonji here for a bit. I haven't had a good talk to her in ages. Remember when she used to come over every Sunday, Hoseok, and you would make her sit in your room all afternoon while you showed her whatever game you were working on that week? I used to think she deserved a medal for how patient she was with you. And how kind. Not too many girls her age would have bothered being friends with an egocentric computer nut like you, dear."

"I didn't mind, Mrs. Jung," Hyeonji confessed. "Truth is I enjoyed it though I can't say I always understood everything. Hobi's nothing short of a creative genius. I dare say he gets that from you."

Mrs. Jung smiled her pleasure at the compliment. "What a nice girl you are," she said. "But my son is no genius. Not in the things which count, that is," she muttered as she turned to walk down several steps into the sunken living areas of the house.

Mrs. Jung's home was roomy, split-level and messy, Hyeonji saw as she traipsed after Hoseok's mother. And it smelt like a tavern. Housework was clearly not a priority with Mrs. Jung. Funny. Hyeonji couldn't remember it being so unkempt in the old days.

"Sorry about the mess," Mrs. Jung excused with an unconcerned but elegant wave of her right hand. "My cleaner had to quit through ill health a couple of weeks back and I'm on a deadline for a book. I've been meaning to advertise for a replacement but haven't got around to it."

An idea popped into Hyeonji's brain "How much does a cleaner earn

"What?" Mrs. Jung asked in confusion. She repeated her question. Hoseok's mother slanted her a sharp look. "Do you know someone who might be interested?" Hyeonji hesitated "I might..."

"Your mother?" Mrs. Jung guessed, turning to put the kettle to plug it in. "Well...yes. Dad left her with a lot of debts, you see, and her pension doesn't go far. I suggested that we take in a boarder to help make ends meet better, but I don't think Mum liked that idea much."

"Why don't I go ask her, then, right now?" Mrs. Jung offered. "And while I'm at it I'll ask her over to lunch with us. I've got plenty of food. Meanwhile, Hoseok, load up the dishwasher for me, like a good boy, will you? If Hyeonji's mother's house is anything like her garden then she'll be horrified at the state of this place. Hyeonji, love, would you mind collecting the dirty glasses from the living room?"

Hyeonji was happy to. What a nice lady Hoseok's mother was. As soon as Mrs. Jung left, she whizzed around the living room, straightening it up a bit while Hoseok made clattering noises in the kitchen. When she came out with the last four dirty glasses he had just closed the dishwasher door and started a cycle.

"I'll wash this up in the sink," she said, and set to work straight away. Hoseok leaned against a nearby counter, his arms crossed his eyes thoughtful upon her, "When you say your father left debts behind, just how much debt do you mean?"

She sighed "A lot," Hyeonji admitted. "The year before he died, he took out loans against the house to finance his latest business venture, which went bust like every other one of his great get-rich-quick schemes. Unfortunately there was no life insurance to cover these loans. The repayments take nearly all my salary each week."

Hoseok straightened, his expression appalled. "But that's terrible! Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?"

"Why should I have? It's not your problem Hobi."

"Some best friend you must think I am," he said sharply. Hyeonji was astonished by his annoyance. "But I... I..."

"I want you to tell me exactly who these loans are with and what interest you're paying" he said sharply. "Why?" Hyeonji confused with what Hoseok was trying to imply. "Because I want to help you that's why. That depends if you'll let me, it depends on how much stupid pride you've got."

Her chin shot up. "I have quite a bit. And I don't think pride is stupid!"

"That's what I thought, so I could do one of two things. I could have my accountant look at these loans and see what's the best way to refinance them at the lowest possible interest. Men like your father always have to borrow at exorbitant interest rates because they're a credit risk. On top of that, interest rates have dropped lately. Alternatively, I could organize to pay off debts myself by giving you an interest-free loan. Either way, your repayments would be substantially less than they are now."

Hyeonji's face lit up. "An interest-free loan! Oh, Hobi, that would be wonderful! Simply wonderful!" but her face fell. "But they're not my debts. In a legal sense, that is. They're Mother's. She would have to sign any documents. And I don't think she would agree to your last suggestion. I mean... she might think it was funny."

"What do you mean funny?" he asks. "She might think there were strings attached to such an arrangement." Hyeonji replies honestly. However this left Hoseok with a confused look. "Strings? What strings?"

"Hoseok, don't be thick, please. Between you and me." Hoseok's shock was not altogether flattering. "She think I would demand you sleep with me in exchange for money? Why in God's name would she think such a thing?"

"Don't take it personally. Mum doesn't have a great opinion of men in general when it comes to sex," she said "My father was a womanizer, you know."

"No," he said slowly, that frown still in place. "I didn't know. You never told me. You never told me anything about yourself or your family." Now he was sounding frustrated.

"You never asked..." Hyeonji shrugged. "Well, I'm asking you now!" says Hoseok who is now irate.

"Why?" as she tilts her head and looks at him. "Why?" he immediately responds. "Yes, why this sudden interest?" Hoseok was taken aback, thoroughly exasperated. "Why must women make mountains out of mole hills? There is no mystery to my interest. Neither is it sudden. I've always cared about you, Hyeonji, I guess, I've been so wrapped up in my business going that I haven't had much time to think of other's problems. I suggest you put this change of heart down to my maturing at long last, of you have to put it down to anything. I did just turn twenty five."

"Yes I know," she said dryly. "I bought and lit the candles on your cake"

"You still haven't forgiven me for forgetting your birthday, have you?" he asked.

"I'll forgive you anything if you have your accountant get me some more money each week. I'm dying to buy myself some lovely new clothes to go with my new look. Believe me, Hobi, you can organize that refinancing business. I'll be your willing slave forever." He gave her a decidedly disgruntled look. "So I'm to be responsible for even more changes in my Hyeonji. Your Mr. X won't be able to resist you soon. Frankly I'm not so sure I want to send you into the arms of some good-looking bastard who's had oodles of women and who didn't appreciate the lovely person you were before you became a fashion plate."

Hyeonji was startled, then flattered by the jealous edge in his words. It occurred to her that inventing the mythical Mr. X was the best she'd ever done. She'd never had so much attention from Hoseok in her life. Suddenly, she was a reasonably attractive female, complete with her secret sexual obsession. The fact that the secret sexual obsession was Hoseok himself might have escaped him, but the concept of her madly in love with some good-looking Casanova clearly bothered him. Surely that had to be a reason to keep going?

"I don't think you're in love with this man at all," Hoseok pronounced abruptly. "From what I've heard, it's a simple case of infatuation. When and if he ever takes you to bed, you'll realize that. Men like him rarely live up to the romantic and sexual fantasies women weave around them. They're much too selfish to be good lovers."

"That's a very interesting theory," Hyeonji said thoughtfully. "And do you think you're a good lover, Hobi?"

"Me? We're not talking about me!" he grumbled irritably. "We're talking about lover boy here."

"I was just wondering," she said with feigned innocence. "After all, you confessed the other day to being selfish. And you just said selfish men weren't good lovers."

"Yes, well, there's selfish and there's selfish. I like to think I excel in anything I put my mind to. So yes, I think I'm a good lover. Are you going to argue the point, Miss Picky, or accept my word for it?" Hoseok says extremely annoyed.

Actually, I'd like a demonstration...

Hyronji thought with a quickening of her heartbeat. She stared first into Hoseok's beautiful brown eyes, then down to his equally beautiful mouth before letting her hopefully unreadable gaze drift down his even more beautiful body. Her own ached with longing for that body. It was a bittersweet ache, filled with delicious sexual awareness, yet framed with in a frustration so acute, she wanted to scream and shout and stamp her feet.

"I guess I'll have to accept your word for it," she managed to say, though her words were clipped. "I certainly won't be ringing Tinashe and asking her, that's for sure. The best thing you ever did was to break up with her."

"Break up with Tinashe? I haven't broken up with Tinashe. Wherever did you get that idea?"

"But the other night...you said..."

"I said we were having a trial separation. Actually it was her idea. She had some bee in her bonnet about my taking her for granted, which was probably true. So she told me she wasn't going to see me for a month, during which we were to have no contact whatsoever, even by telephone."

"I see." Hyeonji felt her brave and exciting new world tip out of kilter. "So when is this month up?" she asked, voice flat and heavy. "Next Sunday." He raked his hand through his hair. "And it can't come soon enough, I can tell you. This has been the longest, most frustrating four weeks in my life!"

Chapter 07

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