#but what I’ve gathered has been far too uncomfortably real

[milo-is-rambling]

Fuckin succession it feels like everyone on this website live-blogged and is now webweaving about my trauma

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Nine

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: FLUFF, a very mild mention of gagging, uncomfortable tension, alcohol / drinking, SOME FLIRTING ACTION 😏, quite literally the most painful paragraph I have written so far (dramatic but you'll get it i promise) and some cute, silly banter.

Word Count: 5k

Summary: The day after drinking a little too much proves to be a tough start, but ends up being an even tougher evening.

Author's Note: Oh I am just twiddling my little thumbs over this chapter!! We're so close to the inevitable everyone 🤭 like SO SO CLOSE.

Hot For Teacher - Van Halen "I've got it bad, so bad, I'm hot for teacher."

Maybe if I just keep my eyes closed, the hangover won’t be real. I’ve been lying in bed for I don’t even know how long. I need to pee. My head feels like it’s going to explode. I know the moment I open my eyes, it’ll only get worse. 

I can hear some movement coming from what I can only assume is the kitchen. Opening my eyes long enough to look at my phone, why is he awake at 7:30 am? I let out a deep sigh, knowing that getting out of bed is probably the best choice, considering that I do need to become a person again since I have to work later. God, I’m dumb for drinking that last drink.  

My head feels like a construction zone when I finally stand up. Turning the doorknob as quietly as possible, I leave the room. I don’t know why I’m nervous. The hallway isn’t long, but feels like a mile. As I approach the open space, I can’t help but notice the decor. Josh must have helped him. It’s very comparable to the bar’s atmosphere, without the heavy pirate influence. The big windows let in a ton of natural light with a very pretty view of the Old Port. They have exposed brick walls; I can’t lie- I’m a little jealous of that.  I scan the room silently, admiring the different art pieces and plants- until I find my eyes fixed on him. 

There he stood in the kitchen, making something on the stove. The way he moves so gracefully as he goes between cooking and making coffee. I can feel my body warm as I notice what he’s wearing, or lack thereof. Oh no, he’s hot. His sweatpants hung low on his hips; I only knew this because he wasn’t wearing a shirt. I know that his outfit last night showed off a fair amount of his chest, but I wasn’t expecting to see this much of him. Not that I’m complaining. 

He’s an attractive man, but I never really considered anything past his nice smile. He’s a smaller framed guy, and that’s apparent once anybody who isn’t Josh stands next to him, but seeing him right now, I can’t stop myself from staring at him.

I become incredibly self-aware that I’m quite literally just watching this man cook while he has no idea I’m here. And I don’t know why I haven’t made a noise to acknowledge my presence yet.  

I watch as he gathers all of his hair into a low, messy bun, pulling the hair tie off of his middle finger; I hadn’t noticed he made it into a ring. His back muscles flex a little as he wraps the hair tie into his hair, and the sound that comes out of my body is embarrassing.

“Mmm” slips out of me, causing him to turn around. 

“Well, good morning,” he speaks quietly, “how terrible do you feel?” he giggles a bit after that. 

“Astronomically bad right now,” I tell him, tugging his sweatshirt down my legs a little. 

“Here, I made some coffee,” he tells me, quickly pouring some into a cute mug for me, “Do you want anything in it?” 

I shake my head, “No, black is perfect, actually.” I find myself a comfy spot on his couch. 

“My kinda girl,” he says, looking over at me with a devious little smile. 

He brings it over to me, carefully holding it out for me. He goes to the other end of the couch, reaching down beside it and pulling up a soft-looking throw blanket. Opening it up and draping it over my bare legs, …that’s so sweet. 

“Thanks,” I squeak out. 

“Of course.”

He makes his way back into the kitchen in a comfortable silence. The coffee warmed my body and slowly eased some of the headache. I try not to just stare at him, but he makes it difficult to focus anywhere else. He tilts the pan, pushing whatever he’s cooked into a little bowl, before turning to face me. 

“I made some food for you,” he continues to whisper, “Figured you’d need something in your system once you woke up,”  He quietly walks over, extending the bowl out to me.

I can’t stop myself from the small gag, my eyes going wide. 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” he says, moving the bowl away from me. He sets the food on the counter and then makes his way over to the couch, sitting on the opposite end of me. He grabs the flannel that’s draped over the back of the couch, pulling it on but not buttoning it at all. As much as you probably think that’s helpful, Jacob, I promise you it’s making this worse. 

“Let me get you something else,”

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” I tell him.

“You need to get something in your body to soak up the alcohol,” he says, “and there’s a Starbucks approximately thirty seconds away.” 

“You really don’t have to do that,” 

“Charlotte, tell me your order or I’m going to order one of everything,” he tells me, a smile plastered across his face. 

I shake my head, laughing, “Okay, fine, I’ll text it to you.” 

He disappears into his bedroom for a moment before coming back out to harass me again. 

“Text me your order. I’ll be right back,” he says before pointing at me, “I mean it. If you don’t tell me, I will literally just buy the whole menu.” 

“Wait-” I quickly spit out, “Where’s your bathroom?” 

“Oh, I should have told you. It’s right down that hall on the left,” he tells me, pointing to the opposite hall from his bedroom. 

“Thank you. I have to pee so bad,” I whisper, standing up from the warm blanket. Either he’s very courteous of my hangover or maybe he’s just actually that soft-spoken. Seems odd to whisper. 

I hustle to the bathroom, bringing my phone with me.

I sit down, open my messages, and click on his name. 

Me: an everything bagel with avocado spread would be great.

After a second, I stand up, wash my hands, and stare deep into the mirror at my fairly smudged makeup. I try to wipe some of it away but ultimately accept defeat. I’ll just buy some makeup wipes when I leave. I tap on my phone to see if he replied, seeing the notification sitting there on my lockscreen. 

Jacob loved “an everything…

Turning to leave, I open the door, still looking down at my phone. 

“Well, hello there,” 

A loud gasp escapes my body when I see Quinn standing in front of me. 

“I– Uhh-” I try to speak, and nothing wants to come out. 

“Oh, good morning, Charlotte,” Josh says from the room across the hall. 

How did I not see another fucking door?  

“Haha, good morning.” 

“Oh, don’t be shy, dear.” He says, finally emerging from the room, “Where did my brother run off to?” 

“He went to Starbucks,” I can hardly make eye contact at this point; I’m so embarrassed. 

“Oh! Well, in that case, I’ll keep you company until he gets back.” 

Great. 

We both find ourselves sat on the couch, with Quinn sitting on the floor below Josh. It’s sweet how Josh just instantly runs his hand down the back of their head and just causally rubs the back of their neck. They just talk about random topics and occasionally look to me for my opinion. They’re an odd pair, but they’re definitely entertaining to be around. 

“Well, bug, I need to change and go take down some of the decorations before Jake loses his marbles over it,” he says, pressing a kiss into the top of their head. He pads off into his bedroom, shutting the door swiftly behind him. 

“So,” Quinn’s eyes dart over to the door and then back to me, “how are you feeling?” 

“Honestly, the coffee has done wonders for me.”

“Oh good, I’m glad. Umm-” They’re interrupted by the sound of the door unlocking. 

Jacob quickly came in and locked the door behind him. He turns to see the two of us now sitting on the couch. 

“Ahhhh- good morrow, Quinn,” he says in his English accent, looking over to me with an uncomfortable smile on his face. 

Quinn’s head slowly nods before joining him, “Mmm why yes! A good morrow indeed, Squire Jacob!” Is the English accent normal in this household or what? 

He brings the food over, “Hopefully, this helps.” 

I can feel Quinn’s stare boring into the side of my head as he hands my food to me. Thankful that this time, I don’t gag at the smell. 

“Good morning, brother. I was about to go downstairs and start cleaning up,” Josh speaks at a much quicker pace than Jacob.

“Thank you, bub. I’ll be down there soon to help ya.” 

 Josh comes back over, leaning down and giving Quinn a little kiss before ruffling their hair and scurrying off. 

“Charlotte, is there anything else you need before I run downstairs to try and get the bar back to normal?” Jacob asks me. 

“I don’t think so,” I tell him in between bites of my bagel, “I think I may run to a store and just grab some clothes so I don’t have to go all the way back to my house.” The realization hit me: I don’t have pants. 

 “Um.. Quinn,” I start, “Is there any chance that you have some pants I can borrow for like .. an hour?” 

“Oh for sure,” Quinn tells me, “Where are you going? I might come with, if you don’t mind, of course.” 

“I think there’s an Urban Outfitters close by, isn’t there? I’ll probably just walk over there real quick, and you can come if you want?” 

“Oh there is, and I will be joining you then,” they have a smirk painted on their face, “let me grab you some pants.” 

Jacob comes out of his room, moving a bit quicker, but at least this time, he’s dressed. Wearing what seems to be his staple—a hardly buttoned button-up —with some jeans that have seen better days and some ankle boots, unfortunately, he looks good.  

“I’m gonna go, but if you need anything.. You know where to find me,” he says with a smile, “I’ll see you in a little bit.” And off he went. 

Quinn bringing me a pair of sweats, debatably Josh’s, but at this point, I don’t even care. I grab my bag, and phone, and Quinn, and we head out to find me some slightly more presentable clothes. 

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“So..” Quinn says quietly, “did you..” 

“Did I what?” 

“I mean.. Did the two of you…?” They question. 

“Oh- OH- oh my god, no,” I realize what they’re thinking, “I was just a little more drunk than planned, and he didn’t want me to drive.” 

“Well, that feels very much like Jake.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he’s basically a mom,” they say through a laugh. 

I quietly laugh with them, realizing that is why he probably handled the situation the other day so well. I wonder if he’s always been like this or if it’s just since he’s been older. 

“Anyway, so what do you do?” I ask them. 

“I’m basically an elementary school art teacher,” They tell me

It makes so much sense when they tell me and explain why they would be with someone like Josh. I heard enough about how Josh decorated the bar; he seems incredibly proud of the job that he did, which is sweet. 

“Oh, that seems so fun. You must really love it?” I don’t know why I can’t just have a normal conversation. 

“Oh, I love it so much! The kids are so fun, and I really can’t wait to get my own classroom full of little nuggets.” 

After a few minutes of casual conversation, we make it to Urban Outfitters; I’ve never been more grateful to see the sign in my entire life. 

“So, what are we looking for?” Quinn whispers as we walk in. 

“I just need to look more professional than..” I pause, gesturing to my outfit, “Well.. this.” 

Quinn simply salutes to me as we wander through the store looking for something that I can put together to hold me over for at least today. 

“Not to circle back or anything.. but also.. Circling back,” Quinn quickly rambles out, “Are you interested in him?”  They look over at me; they’re smart for acknowledging body language because that’s way harder for me to hide right now.  I can feel my face slowly turning pink and god, I wish it wouldn’t. Focusing on the shirts that I’ve been slowly looking through. 

“I mean, he’s nice to work with because he really pays attention when I’m trying to explain things to him,” I tell them.

“I’m sure he does,” they roll their eyes with a laugh. They hold up a pair of pants which I quickly shake my head ‘no’ to. 

“Hey! I can’t control why he is or isn’t paying attention,” 

‘Mmmmm’ comes from them quickly, before holding up a black mini skirt. 

“What about this with black tights?” they ask. 

It would be cute, but that feels kind of casual- they cut me off mid-thought, which is probably for the best. 

“It’s just for a day. I think you’ll survive. Plus I can see you overthinking it so, just go try it on real quick.” 

They’re a little too good at reading me, and I don’t know how much I love that. But I’m not going to fight them right now; I don’t have the will or energy. I need to work on loosening up a little anyway. I may as well start today. 

“You’re right; let me try this on.”

I let Quinn choose my outfit for the day, and we’ll see if I regret that later on. We begin our walk back to the bar, and it doesn’t take long before the interrogation continues. 

“So, another question,” they say quickly, “are you single?”

“I am,” I can sense where they’re going with this.  

“Okay, and like.. you think he’s pretty cute, right?” 

“Who?” I reply, trying to refrain from alluding to anything. Don’t fall for it. 

“C’mon now, I saw how you were oogling him last night,” 

“I mean, that’s also hard to judge from because I was clearly not in my right mind,” I try to defend myself, but the urge to say the truth was too strong, “But- he’s not hard to look at.” I can’t help but look up at the clouds for a second after admitting it. The smile painted on my face, gave me away.  

“GOTCHA BITCH,” Quinn barks out with a laugh, “Okay, but also, don’t be embarrassed. He’s so sweet, AND he’s hot? I don’t blame you.”

I can’t help but look at them, puzzled a bit at their last comment. 

“I’m fully obsessed with Josh. I just have eyes, and let’s be so for real right now, they’re twins.” They rattle off with a shrug, and I guess they are right. They don’t always look incredibly similar, but they are both handsome guys. CHARLOTTE. 

We cross the street where you can see the sign for the bar, thank GOD. 

“I can let you into the apartment so you can get ready, don’t worry.” Quinn leads the way down the back alley to the stairwell.

How did I even get up there? Is all that plays in my head as I see the flights of stairs. 

We make our way into the apartment, they let me know that they’re going to shower real quick and then they’ll be out of my way. Not like I can really do much with what I have here. 

Shutting the bedroom door behind me, I actually look at where I am.  He’s so … different? His room is much more simple than the rest of the apartment. A few small trinkets sat on top of his dresser, with the rings he had on last night. I set my bag on his bed, that I should make for him. A very obviously loved quilt still semi-folded at the foot of his bed, made from a bunch of different nautical and piratical design fabric. Quickly pulling the light green sheets back up and making sure all the blankets are smoothed out, adjusting the quilt to be draped nicely on the corner. 

I pull on the black tights and mini skirt, and maybe Quinn was onto something. I grab the sweater out of the bag and pull it on, Oh it’s cropped.  I walk over to look in the mirror he has set in the corner of his room. Well.. It’s definitely not what i’m used to, but it is cute. Is it too much, though?  

I walk out into the living room, and the shower isn’t running, “Quinn?” I say, barely above a whisper. They opened Josh’s bedroom door and gave me one glance over before doing a victory dance. 

“You look SO GOOD, CHARLOTTE,” Their voice’s volume increases as they get more excited. 

“Are you sure?” 

“AM I SURE? ABSOLUTELY.” 

“Okay well, thank you for helping me,” I tell them. 

“Wait-” They turn and hurry back into Josh’s room before hustling back with their phone, “Here.” 

They hand me their phone with the new contact screen pulled up. Oh. Are we friends now?  I type my number in with ‘Charlotte (Bar)’ as the name before handing it back. They laugh to themselves as I watch them type something before looking up at me, “Okay, off you go!” ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

There hasn’t been much business since I got here, but I’ve just been waiting for them to have any questions. I don’t even really need to be here, plagues my mind but for some reason, I can’t leave. 

I watch as Melody looks over some drink recipes that the boys have put together. Slowly learning how to make things in between working on lessons for her certification. She’s a smart girl so this really isn’t taking much for her to get through it. I’ve found myself sitting at the end of the bar so I can people-watch while I’m here. Even though there’s only one person I’ve been watching. 

The way he moves so delicately is intriguing. I can’t help but watch the way his hands move so smoothly. He’s just showing her how to make drinks, and I can’t seem to find anything more interesting to look at in this maximalist bar. He has a very gentle approach to such a not-gentle career. Even when I was telling him unfortunate information, he seemed to stay calm. Lord knows I would be panicking in his situation.  

“Here,”

I’m suddenly brought back from my thoughts. 

“Figured you’re gonna be here for a bit; may as well enjoy yourself,” he tells me. 

“I think I enjoyed myself enough last night,” I say, sliding the drink closer to me, “But thank you.” 

He laughs at my comment; I’m glad he thinks I’m funny. He leans on the bar with one arm, looking over to Melody, who is clearly holding her own with the few customers here. Turning to face me, he slowly glances down, which makes my skin crawl, before smiling at me. 

“You look different,” he says. 

I’m unsure what comes over me when I stand up to show off the entire outfit, doing a quick twirl before telling him, “Quinn insisted.” Sitting back in my seat and taking a sip of the drink now that I’ve sufficiently stressed myself out. 

“That makes more sense,” he says with a soft laugh, “It does look nice on you though.” 

He absolutely just checked you out, and YOU LET HIM. Who are you? 

“Hey,” Melody pipes up, “I know that you let Josh help make these recipes, but I don’t fucking know what this says,” she hands him the small piece of paper. 

“Oh god,” he says, rubbing his eyes for a second, “Let me find out for you.” 

All I can focus on is him. I don’t know what is wrong with me. He leans over to Melody, and I can’t hear anything they’re saying with the music and normal chatter of the bar filling my ears, but I have to assume he’s explaining what the recipe is supposed to say. I watch as he squats below the bar, shuffling through a cabinet, his one hand holding onto the edge of the bar to help keep his balance. The way his forearm muscle is flexed, the veins in his hand are visible, and the grip he has on the bar has me shifting in my seat a little. Down, girl. He is just doing his job, as you should be. 

‘hands hands hands’ I scribble on the corner of the page. 

I take another small sip of my drink as I watch him stand up with a notebook, moving to the counter behind him. Turning bottles so the labels are facing him and grabbing the correct glass for the drink. He begins writing down what I can only assume is the recipe Melody was working on. Tucking a bit of his hair behind his ear, why is that so endearing?  Pouring the correct amounts of each liquid into the glass, he alternates making the drink with writing it down. The way he’s so focused, his face is so calm, he’s so- Don’t do this, Charlotte. 

Turning around, he looks to see some of the regulars of the bar sit down, flashing them a smile as he greets them. God, that smile. Scribbling quickly, ‘His smile is so pretty I could cry.’ Reaching over the bar to shake one of the guys’ hands as he laughs with them, I keep going back to his hands. I’ve never been someone to focus on specific things on a person like this before, but there’s something about him that feels different. Maybe it’s because I never envisioned myself finding someone like him attractive. That sounds bad. I have only really dated men who are very clean-cut, well-put-together, and .. boring. Am I a terrible person? 

Jacob, on the other hand, is definitely not clean-cut, put-together, or boring by any means. The way he definitely thrifts a lot of his clothes and doesn’t seem to mind if things look worn out is refreshing. His hair, sitting just below his collarbones with some subtle waves that he absolutely did not brush, suits him somehow. Normally, that would drive me crazy, but looking at him, it just feels right. The man owns a bar that looks like a pirate exploded in, I really can’t say that he isn’t interesting. His little English accent slips out when he’s nervous or unsure of what to say. The way he’s just always so relaxed and like he has no other worries in the world, I could probably stand to learn a thing or two from him.  

Me: soo.. Come here often? 🤭

Setting my phone down, I glance over to where he’s stood, talking to some of the regulars. He pulls his phone out, clicking on the notification before looking over to me. I can see his eyebrow pop up with a little smirk. 

Jacob: youre never gonna believe this- 

Jacob: i actually work here 😉

Laughing to myself quietly, I look up to see him smiling at the drink he’s pouring. My heart feels weird again. 

Me: I just want you to know I really appreciate you taking care of me last night 

Is that weird? Was that a weird thing to say? I can literally see him read the text, and I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse at this moment. I watch the typing bubbles pop up, making my stomach turn a little. 

Jacob: of course. gotta make sure youre safe

My hands start to sweat; why is he so sweet? 

Me: maybe I can return the favor sometime 

What are you DOING? I immediately feel like I shouldn’t have sent that. I watch and wait to see how he reacts, hopeful that I didn’t just embarrass myself. I flip my phone facedown onto the bar, impatiently waiting for him to have a chance to read it. 

 He finally taps his lock screen, reading the message from the notification; I can see from across the bar the way he’s fighting the smile on his face. 

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Realizing the time, I decide I should probably leave. Looking around, I don’t see him in the bar; I’ve spent the last few minutes chatting with Melody about how she’s feeling with the training and certification. 

Standing up to go find him, I should probably let him know if I’m going to leave since I’ve basically lived here for the last twenty-four hours. I round the corner into the hallway, seeing his office door cracked open. Gently knocking to get his attention. 

“Hey, you.” His voice is soft. 

“I think I’m going to head home. It’s getting a bit late.” I tell him; it’s much more quiet in his office than I anticipated. I guess the only other time I’ve been in here, I was sobbing a little too loudly to notice. 

“Oh, I’ll walk you to your car,” he says, standing up from his desk.  

“You really don’t need to do that. You’ve already done enough for me,” I say, looking down at my boots for a second, “Um.. so thank you again– a lot for.. everything last night.” I can feel the heat rising into my face as I say it. 

“Of course,” he mumbles, smirking a bit before continuing, “You were a little treat, honestly.” He’s moved closer to me, looking down at me with a small grin on his face. My stomach is in knots; what is this?

“Oh god,” I groan, rubbing my hands down my face. 

“Don’t worry, it was cute.” His eyes scan all over my face, and I can’t help but stare at his mouth. I swear I can feel how soft his lips are just from looking at them- no, cut it out stop looking at them. You work together. You can’t be looking at him like this, Charlotte. My brain is moving at a million miles per hour until I let out the most pathetic sounding, “Oh.” 

“So, about that favor–” He takes another step closer, and my hands instantly feel damp, “Are you trying to get me drunk?” he mumbles, popping that same eyebrow up. Charlotte, come on, girl, what are we doing? 

“Don’t think yourself out of happiness, Lottie.” Cassie’s voice playing in my head suddenly. Maybe Cass was right. 

 The silence is deafening between us. His hand grazes mine as I see his eyes slowly drop to my lips and back up to meet my stare. He’s so close to me I can feel the warmth radiating from him. I timidly bump my hand into his, hoping he’ll get the hint. He gently takes my hand in his, lightly squeezing it a few times. I think I want to kiss him. I take my turn of glancing at his lips and finding his gaze again, like we’re playing the worst game of chicken. 

“Just wanted to pop in and say Hi- OH MY GOODNESS, I’m so sorry, sweetie,” Linda says louder than either of us wished she would. 

“No, Linda, come back,” Jacob says, “We were just discussing Melody’s training.” 

Linda peeks back around the corner, seeing us now, not in an incriminating moment. I quickly grabbed some papers from his desk to look at. 

“Was just wondering where you ran off to,” she says. 

“I think I’m going to escort m’lady Charlotte here to her car, and then I’ll be all yours for the evening.” It’s very sweet how much they all love her.  

“That’s very nice of you. I’ll be waiting for ya,” she shoots him a wink before wandering back into the bar. 

He slumps down into his chair, letting out the biggest breath I’ve heard, which honestly makes me laugh. He runs his hands over his face for a second before joining me for a laugh about the situation. 

“I’m sorry, this is-” he spits out, “Let’s get you to your car.” He lets out another giggle, shaking his head at how ridiculous both of our nights have gotten in the last three minutes. 

We walk to my car in comfortable silence. I unlock it as we get closer, he kindly opens the door for me. 

“After you,” 

“Oh, thank you,” 

I throw my things over into the passenger seat before turning to look at him. We both look fairly defeated at this point. The chill from the outside starts to get us both as he slides one hand into his pocket. 

“Haha, um… so I’ll see you tomorrow?” he says, his free hand grabbing the back of his neck. 

“Mhmm, have a good night, Jacob,” I tell him with a soft smile. 

“You too.” He gently shuts my door for me and makes his way back to the bar. 

I watch him as he walks with both hands in his pockets. How he is so nonchalant after that? I’ll never understand.. and why am I sad it didn’t happen? Waiting for him to be completely gone, I see the door to the bar shut. I drop my head back onto the headrest, letting out a quiet ‘fuck’ and then decompressing with a sigh. 

My head floods with Cassie’s voice, “Maybe he’s your Scott, Lottie.” 

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Chapter Eight

Chapter Ten

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Familiar [Part 3]

Part 1, Part 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x immortal!reader

Word Count: 1131

“Do you want something to drink?” It was the first thought that came to mind, and it had slipped seamlessly from your lips. A familiarity of what you once were taught by your mother. “Water? Lemonade?” It’s been a while since you’ve welcomed someone into your house. Hospitality escaping your trembling figure as it's been too long.

“Water’s fine,” It was painfully obvious he was uncomfortable. Probably believing, before making his way onto your doorstep, that he wouldn’t make it this far. That you would’ve closed the door in his face and left him to face his demons alone. “Thank you.” He offered a small awkward smile.

You grabbed the pitcher and poured water, cool as a cucumber, into one of the wooden cups you’ve collected throughout your travels. Placing the cup in front of him, you took a seat on your couch, waiting for him to start the conversation.

You let him in, and it terrified you. You’ve never done that before, and you know how it ends. Him six feet under and you continue to live with another broken heart. You hated your heart and how easily it accepts people. You were unfit to be an immortal. You were too gentle and loving. Every attachment you’ve made left you more broken than the last. You isolated yourself to protect your already shattered heart. It seems your attempts were futile. Your past just walked right in.

Bucky was silent. Probably not knowing how to even start the conversation. He was broken and bruised by the world he sought to protect. Getting nothing in return but torture and hatred. When the words finally arrived, he took another sip of his water, gathering enough courage to start, and said, “Thank you for letting me in.”

Those were not the words you were expecting to hear. His words were startling as they were gentle. He truly was thankful. He’s been shut out for so long, he expected everyone to treat him the same. An unlucky fool and mindless Hydra tool.

You’ve seen the way the government had portrayed him. A man capable of acting on his own accords however, it was further from the truth. He was a war victim. A captured soldier. A man who lost his life and soul to a heartless organization. The man sitting before you was attempting to regain his life back. Without his family or his longtime friend. They were gone and he was here.

“I was lonely.” You confessed. This man had faced many lies in the past. He deserved the truth. “That’s why I left you in.”

“I-” He began before heaving a long sigh, “I just wanted to ask a few questions. My mind has been scattered. I don’t know what is real or what I’ve imagined. I recognized you. We’ve met before.” He was reaffirming what he knew. His reason for coming here. “Can you tell me? If it was real or not?”

“Okay.” You agreed. His mind might not be all there, the part of him that was Bucky Barnes from the ‘40s, it’s fragmented throughout his subconscious. You could only help with that one day. You were not Steve. You didn’t know him like Steve.

“Steve tried to help you and you tried to help Steve. True or false?” He looked at you with puppy eyes. He might not have known he was doing it, but it painfully struck your heartstrings. Damn your gentle heart.  

“True.” Steve always wanted to be a hero. You’d gathered as much from the short time you’ve spent together. Only to be reaffirmed when he fought in the war.

“You were in the alleyway?” He asked before clarifying, “Behind the movie theater?”

“True.” His mind is surprisingly more intact than you’ve previously thought. It was a miracle he didn’t suffer from something more permanent. Would it be called luck? Was it lucky to be caught by the enemy? He was alive but at what cost? His freedom? His body? Was it worth living?

“You were...” He thought for a moment, “Hitting a man with a pipe?”

You shook your head, “False. I didn’t have a weapon. Only had my fist.” Could dreams slip into his memory or alter it in any way. Could it be a normal phenomenon of misremembering a memory. “You remember me with a pipe?”

“I thought so.” He muttered quietly, “It’s muddled. Almost too fuzzy to comprehend.” He was scared his memory was fading into fantasy. An imaginary scenario born out of the dreams he had during his involuntary cryosleep. It seemed dreams and memories collided together when he woke up. Leaving him questions rather than the answers he hoped to find.

“Do you remember what happened afterwards?” You asked. Did he remember everything that happened that night?

“No...” He went quiet for a moment, “I don’t know.” He was trembling. He placed the empty cup onto your table, not trusting himself to not crush it, and fear laced face. You didn’t want to make sudden movements, worried of startling the man and making him feel worse, you chose to speak.

“Do you want me to tell you the rest?” You asked patiently, “You can fill in the rest with what you remember.” He gave you a small nod, still shaking and still terrified. Words seemed stuck in his mind.  

You spoke slowly, in case he wanted to speak, “You heard the commotion and saved the day with your fist. It didn’t take you long to finish the fight. You made sure Steve, and I were alright before you started to flirt with me.” You paused, waiting to see if he would interject, “You were charming, a well-practiced lady’s man, you swept me off my feet.”

“We went to an ice-cream stand.” He cautiously added, “I ordered vanilla and you ordered...”

You helped him, “a Nutty Buddy cone.”

“Right.” He stared at the wall, waiting for you to continue the story.

“We spent the day exploring New York City together. I told you it was my first time, and you were determined to show me all the cool spots before we’d part ways.” It was an amazing adventure packed in a day. It was still one of the best days of your life.

“We went dancing?” He asked.

“Yes.” You nodded, “We danced all night long. We were dead on our feet, but you still walked me home. Like the gentleman you are.”

“I waited for you to go inside.” He stated. That part of the memory was blurry. He couldn’t remember the building, but he knew he waited till you locked the door. He recalled the sensation of being alive coiled in his fatigue. He’s always been a lady’s man, but it felt different when he spent the day with you.

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

So as I said, I literally dreamed up an AU for Genealogy last night.

Starting at the point when Julius receives the tome of Loptous, it possesses him, and he immediately tries to kill his sister. In my dream, Deirdre not only managed to spirit Julia away and save her, but Deirdre managed to get herself away alive, too.

Of course, the two of them, both injured, Julia completely traumatized, on the outskirts of Belhalla, wouldn’t get very far…but of course, Lewyn is fortunately in the area.

He immediately recognizes Deirdre, but she has only a few very vague sensations for her memories of the time before she arrived in Belhalla. Once Lewyn gathers that she doesn’t recognize him, he simply does not actually elaborate on how he knew her name. And she just lets that drop because the more important matter at this moment is the fact that he’s willing to help her and Julia.

Once Deirdre and Julia have recovered from the attack (though Julia still has trauma amnesia), they end up sticking with Lewyn for safety. Deirdre is worried about Arvis and what Julius might do, but her first priority is protecting Julia, and she’s sure that it wouldn’t be safe to return to Belhalla.

Also I considered what if maybe Deirdre is at least a little Naga-possessed but I didn’t get anywhere else with that.

-

The above is everything my dream gave me but I’ve been turning this concept over in my head all day and I think I love it.

I imagine that Deirdre’s life as Princess/Empress of Grannvale was relatively sheltered; Arvis, being particularly paranoid, would want to keep her close both for her safety and his own peace of mind. And because she doesn’t remember her life before, the world beyond Belhalla is particularly foreign to her.

Julia, of course, is traumatized and amnesiac. She knows her name. She’s told that the woman with her is her mother, and she can see the physical resemblance. She knows the man with them helped them. Everything else is new again.

And Lewyn is possessed. How much of him is even Lewyn?

Consider the comedy potential of the three of them trying to make their way in the world together.

Lewyn is getting by on bard skills and charisma. Soft-spoken Deirdre and shy Julia are drifting along in his wake. Do they pretend that Lewyn is Julia’s father and that they’re just a normal family trying to survive? Does Lewyn spin a cover story that’s uncomfortably real, instead: that Deirdre’s dead husband was a knight of Grannvale and now Lewyn is trying to take care of his family in his stead?

Deirdre doesn’t tell Julia what happened to them. It might be better to forget the monster that took over her brother’s body and tried to kill her. Deirdre almost wishes she could forget when Manfroy arrived with the time and suddenly her sweet boy, her son, became something else. Deirdre doesn’t tell Julia that she’s the imperial princess. It’s easier to hide when one of them doesn’t have to lie.

Deirdre tells Lewyn, though, what happened. He recognized her from the very beginning. He knows she’s the Empress of Grannvale. He knows she’s trying to hide and so she tells him what she’s hiding from, and all that she tells of what happens to Julius fits all that Forseti knows of Loptous.

Obviously the funniest part that this all circles back around to is when they travel to Isaach together, Lewyn having gotten word that a liberation army is rising there. He has his plans to go see the situation in Thracia, but first he finds Seliph's army and says "Hey, while I'm off seeing the situation in Leonster, could I leave these two lovely ladies in care of your army? This is Deirdre, and that's Julia."

And Seliph is like "...The Empress of Grannvale was named Deirdre... and she was my mother..."

And Deirdre, who has static noises where her memories used to be, is like "Well, it's possible... I'm afraid I don't know the full extent of my own past..."

And they both look over to Lewyn to ask what he knows, except Lewyn can't answer because he's being strangled by Oifey, who's furious that Lewyn kept news of Deirdre hidden from him all these years.

[animeboye]

Mid Dragon's World Chapter 11

Chapter 11: The Spy

Alex sat down beside me. “How was your first day, man?” He asked with a smile.

“Meh.” I shrugged, folding my arms and looking down.

“’Meh’?” Alex repeated. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

So I explained to Alex that there was another half-dragon at my school named Drake. I told him about how things were going well at first but after I said dad’s name, Drake freaked out and ran away. Alex looked surprised when I told him there was another half-dragon. He used to think we were the only ones.

As I told Alex about Drake, the door opened and there stood my dad who had overheard us talking. Behind him stood someone I’d never seen before.

“What is this about another half-dragon?” Dad asked, sounding interested.

“Hi dad.” I greeted. “Uh, who’s that?”

“This is Rikai. He is one of my Apprentices and starting today, he’ll be working with us.” Explained dad.

I couldn’t explain it but for some reason, being around Rikai made me feel…uncomfortable. He had a strange, crazy look in his eyes. Just looking at those eyes of his made me want to get as far away from him as I could.

“So now, what is this about a half-dragon?” Dad asked again.

I explained to dad everything that I told Alex. After which he stood in the doorway, stroking his chin and looking down at us. He must have been thinking pretty deeply about what I told him.

“I see…” He said slowly. “It must be his son.”

“His son?” Asked Alex, not understanding what dad meant.

“What do you mean, dad?” I asked, also not understanding what he was talking about.

“I’ve told you boys about him…the dragon whose friends and family very nearly destroyed me: Doulstraz.”

Doulstraz…I remembered the stories dad told me about him. He was an evil dragon who tried to kill dad years ago. When I was little, dad always told me that if I wasn’t careful, Doulstraz could get me too. But…could Drake really be Doulstraz’s son? He didn’t seem bad when I hung out with him at school.

“That dragon…he truly is an interesting one.” Dad said, closing the door and sitting down between us.

“He’s interesting?” I repeated, becoming even more confused by what dad was saying.

“See boys, when a dragon takes on a human form, the dragon in question still knows it’s a dragon. Doulstraz, however, did not. For most of his life, he lived blissfully unaware of his true identity as a dragon. In that sense, I suppose you could say that made his human side as real as his dragon side. It’s strange…there’s only one other dragon I knew of whose situation was the same as his.” Dad explained.

I wondered who this other dragon could have been. Before I got the chance to ask, a portal appeared on our lawn and out of it came Girido, Eig’nia, Theian, and Z’haer. As the portal closed behind them, dad stood up and went over to greet them.

“Welcome back. Any progress?” Asked Dad.

“Yes, sir.” Girido responded. “However, before we get to that, there’s been a bit of an emergency.”

“What kind of emergency?” Dad asked in a louder, stern voice.

Girido drew closer to dad and whispered something into his ear. A couple seconds later, Girido drew away and dad closed his eyes, placing his hand over his chin again.

“I see.” Dad said, sounding very serious. “Everyone, gather downstairs. We have something of utmost importance to discuss.”

I’d never seen dad look so nervous before. Whatever Girido said to him must have been really bad.

We all followed dad downstairs and sat in our chairs. Rikai, who didn’t have a chair of his own, leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. Dad was the last to sit down. As he sat in his chair, he leaned over, brought his hand over his eyes and rubbed the top of his head. He sighed, continuing to rub his forehead and the right side of his head with his fingers before sitting up.

“Is everything alright, sir?” Asked Z’haer.

“Far from it.” Dad answered. “Girido has brought it to my attention that there is a spy amongst us.”

All of us except Rikai gasped at the same time. I couldn’t believe it! I couldn’t believe that one of us could possibly be a spy!

“Girido. Since you’re the one who supplied me with this information, why don’t you explain for everyone else?” Dad said.

“Very well. I’m going to cut straight to the chase: someone here has been leaking information about our plans to Lord Tomi. Every mission, this particular person has disappeared for long periods of time.” Girido explained.

“But how do you know this person is a spy? Couldn’t there be another reason for their disappearance?” Eig’nia asked.

“That’s what I thought at first myself. However it just seems like far too big a coincidence considering how often this has occurred.” Girido answered.

Everyone began talking loudly amongst themselves. Neither me or Alex said anything. I wasn’t sure what to say about this. If there was really a spy, then how did they go so long without anyone finding out until now? Not only that but more importantly, if there really was a spy like Girido said, then who could it possibly be? I was afraid he might possibly pin this on Theian. After all, he and Theian did always hate each other. Maybe Girido was just using this whole spy thing as an excuse to get dad or one of us to kill Theian.

As everyone continued talking, I looked over at Rikai who was smiling as he watched the discussion. I shuddered just from looking at him. He looked like he was enjoying this…a bit too much.

Slowly I turned back, and just in time as dad stood up and yelled,

“ENOUGH!!”

With that, the basement quickly became quiet. Dad sat down again.

“Now Girido, please continue.” Dad said.

“Alright. As I was saying, someone has been disappearing for long tracks of time. Just today I caught the person in question relaying information to a dragon who I would have to guess is one of Tomi’s boys.” Girido continued with his explanation.

“Enough already!” Theian demanded, sounding angry. “Tell us who it is already!”

Girido laughed and turned to Theian with a smug look on his face.

“You know Theian, I could tell everyone right now that you’re our little spy…”

Oh no! I was right: this was all to get Theian killed. I was just about to open my mouth and ask everyone to wait before Girido beat me to it.

“However…as tempting though it may be, you’re not our spy. I mean, I may be a bad guy but I’m not a liar.” Girido said with that obnoxious smile of his.

“Well do you feel like disclosing the identity of this mystery spy, Girido?” Eig’nia asked. She sounded like she was about to lose her patience.

“Indeed. I’m sure you’re enjoying yourself here, Girido but we do have other issues to discuss.” Dad said, sounding like he was becoming annoyed himself.

For a moment, things went quiet again. Then suddenly, Girido let out a snicker, took in some air, and exhaled.

“Instead of having me reveal the spy’s identity, why don’t I let him do it for us?” Girido said.

I looked around quickly, waiting for one of us to confess to being the spy. No one did. Everyone sat pressed against their chairs with the most nervous looks I’d ever seen in my life. Girido shrugged his shoulders and sighed.

“Not going to do it the easy way, huh? Why? Are you afraid to let everyone know of your deceit?  Come on, we won’t judge you…Z’haer.”

WHAT! Z’haer was the spy? That couldn’t be right. He was my friend. Girido had to have had it wrong, there was no possible way Z’haer was the spy.

“No! You’re wrong!” I exclaimed, leaping out of my chair.

“Am I, boss jr.? Do you have any proof?”

“Yeah! Z’haer never did any of what you said when we were together! He can’t be the spy! Right, Alex?”

Alex didn’t say anything.

“Theian?” I asked in a pleading voice.

Theian didn’t answer either.

Girido laughed to himself again and shook his head. “Clearly he was deceiving you kiddo. Look, I understand you thought of Z’haer as your friend, but he was actually using you.”

I couldn’t believe any of what Girido was saying. The Z’haer I knew wasn’t like that. He would never do something like that to me or Alex or Theian. I clenched my fists, grinding my teeth at that jerk Girido.

“Hey, c’mon Girido!” Z’haer laughed nervously. “I’m no spy. I’m one of you guys. I promise.”

“Really? Well, if you are one of us, why are you here? We all know what each other is fighting for…that is, except for you. You never told us why you joined Lord Saulstrance.” Girido said.

Z’haer didn’t answer right away. Sweat ran down his face and he gripped the handles on his chair.

“Well?” Girido asked.

“I’m doing it for land, alright!?” Z’haer snapped at Girido.

“Land?” Girido asked, not believing what Z’haer told him.

“Yes, LAND! I’m doing this because I seek to acquire at least 38% of the human realm’s land, alright?”

Dad leaned forward in his chair. He didn’t look too happy with Z’haer’s answer.

“And who said I was going to give you this land?” He asked in an angry voice.

“I think it’s time you tell us who you really are, Z’haer, before I lose my patience.” Dad said in an even angrier voice.

Z’haer sighed and stood up.

“Fine, you want the truth? I AM a spy for Tomi.” Z’haer glared at us.

No…this couldn’t be true. Z’haer…really was a spy? Was what Girido said true? Was he really just using me, Alex, and Theian? I couldn’t believe it.

“Hmm, now that I think about it, I remember hearing about a dragon who worked for Tomi. This dragon would use different names and join the ranks of the dragon realm’s criminals, destroying their groups from the inside. I would imagine this dragon is you, Z’haer…if that is your real name?” Eig’nia said.

“Yeah, that’s right. Very few of the dragons I joined with ever lived after I was finished with their little groups. Saulstrance, I was hoping to kill you in secret then take out your little cronies.” Z’haer said with a confident smile. Listening to him, it almost felt like I was listening to a totally different person.

Dad growled loudly.  He stood up, squeezed his fists so tightly that they were shaking only to release them a second later, and walked up to Z’haer. They stood before each other, their eyes focused directly on the other’s eyes. Dad stared at Z’haer with a very angry look on his face while Z’haer stared back, eyebrows furrowed, a proud, confident smile on his face. We all watched quietly, waiting for one of them to make a move. Right then, no one knew what to expect. They stood there for what must have been a few minutes at least before one of them spoke.

“Z’haer…I must ask, why would you do this to us? To me? I could have given you anything you wanted. Think about it: this world could have been just as much yours as it would be anyone here’s. You could have served as one of my soldiers.” Dad said, sounding almost disappointed.

Z’haer’s smile quickly changed to a frown after my dad finished. “The only one I serve is Lord Tomi.”

“Yes…that’s why you never chose to become his Champion, right? You were more than qualified for the position and forgive me if I’m mistaken, but Tomi himself even recommended you take up the mantle. So why haven’t you?”

Z’haer didn’t answer. He was breathing loudly and heavily, his eyes still focused on my dad. By this point, I was really, really, really hoping that Z’haer was joking about being a spy. Deep down I knew the truth…yet, I desperately didn’t want to believe it.  My stomach was hurting so I placed my arm over it and looked down as I shut my eyes, hoping this was all just a dream.

“Well, if you’re not going to answer, then at least tell me this: won’t you reconsider? Abandon that old fool Tomi and join us. We can give you more than Tomi ever could.” Dad asked.

“NO!” Z’haer roared. “I am loyal only to Lord Tomi! I will always be loyal to Lord Tomi!!”

Without any warning, Z’haer grabbed my dad by the throat and strangled him. Everyone stood up at the same time, ready to stop Z’haer.

“Stay back!” Z’haer growled. “Anybody takes one more step and I’ll break his neck!”

Z’haer was panting even louder. He looked absolutely crazy. I wanted to shout at him to stop but I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t say anything. I was way too scared. But…if none of us did anything, then he’d kill my dad. What were we supposed to do?

“Soon, this will all be over! I cannot allow the dragon realm’s worst criminal to live!” Z’haer panted.

“DIE SAULSTRANCE!!!” He screamed. “DIE, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!”

Dad collapsed to his knees, his eyes beginning to shut. His arms dropped to his sides. I couldn’t believe it. Z’haer…he just killed…he just killed my dad. I shook my head, not believing what I was seeing. I started crying as I fell to my knees, placing my hand over my eyes.

“I’m sorry, Jake. Really, I am.” Z’haer said, kneeling down and placing his hand on my shoulder.

“Listen to me…I know this seems cruel now…but when you’re older, you’ll understand why I had to do this.

“Really now?”  A familiar voice asked. “What will he understand? Why you tried to kill me, or why I had to kill you?”

That voice! But, there was no way. I rubbed the tears out of my eyes and much to mine and everyone else’s surprise, I saw my dad getting back to his feet! I smiled widely, happier than ever to see him. Z’haer, however, wasn’t as happy as the rest of us.

“What! But how? You shouldn’t be up! I killed you!” Z’haer exclaimed in disbelief.

“That, my friend, is what we call ‘playing pretend’.” Dad said, looking down at Z’haer with a fierce look on his face.

Before Z’haer could also get back on his feet, dad pulled his leg back and with a mighty swing of his leg, kicked Z’haer right in the nose. Z’haer flew back, crashing into his chair and knocking it over. He held his nose and yelled in pain.

Z’haer rolled onto his side. Dad walked up to him, stared down at Z’haer and kicked him in the stomach. Z’haer’s hands suddenly went around his stomach which he held in pain, revealing his bloody nose. His blood had covered the area under his nose but just above his chin as well as his chin.

As Z’haer coughed up some more blood, dad kicked him again, causing Z’haer to yell in pain once again. Dad soon started to kick him again and again and again and again until Z’haer had rolled over onto his stomach.

I couldn’t stand watching this anymore. Maybe Z’haer did betray us but he was still my friend. Even if he was a spy, he didn’t deserve this. I was scared. Really, really, really scared but I had to do this. I had to try and stop my dad.

“Dad.” I said in a shy, quiet voice. “Please, I think he’s had enough.”

I looked over at everyone. Everyone looked shocked at what they had just seen. Even Girido looked like he couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed. I looked over at Z’haer myself. Seeing him made me want to cry. His face was covered in blood, his right arm still covering his stomach. His other arm lay at his side. He was barely making any noise.

With a sad look on my face, I turned and looked at Alex. His eyes were wide and his hands gripping the seat handles. There was a truly horrified look on his face as he shook his head. I bet that even he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

With a loud sigh, dad turned to me.

“I think you’re right, Jakol. He has had enough. It’s time to finish this.”

I didn’t know what dad meant by that, but whatever it was, I was certain it wasn’t going to be good. Dad went back to his chair and grabbed his dagger. The same dagger he uses for his ceremonies. He went back to the beaten Z’haer and held the dagger over him.

“Jakol…you should have the honor of finishing him. After all, you were the closest one to him.” Dad suggested, handing the dagger to me.

“What! Me!? I can’t do it! I- -”

“Now, Jakol! I’m not asking you!” Dad said angrily.

Not wanting to make dad any madder, I nervously took his dagger, walked next to him, and held it in my hand. I started breathing more rapidly, my body trembling in fear. Slowly I kneeled down, getting on my knees. My eyes were wide. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t. It wasn’t just because Z’haer was my friend…or once was…but…I just didn’t have it in me to kill someone. Even then, however, I knew that if I didn’t do something, it would be either Z’haer or me.

Z’haer looked at me, the life almost completely gone from his eyes. Tears began to run down my face as my arms shook even more. By now I was hyperventilating. I watched as slowly, a smile formed on Z’haer’s face.

“Jake…” He said weakly. “It’s okay. Do what…you have to…”

“But, I can’t.” I whispered.

“It’s fine. Really. You know, I may have been a spy but even then…you, Theian…and Alex…you guys…were the only ones…I truly liked.”

Rikai growled in annoyance. “Come ON!” He demanded. “Kill him already kid! Let’s see his brains!”

Rikai went up to me, kneeled down, and placed his hand over mine, sending a chill through my body.

“Go on.” He whispered in a smooth voice. “You’re the star of the show.”

Rikai stood up again. My mind was racing. I couldn’t think straight. Everyone was watching me, waiting for me to do something. Without noticing, I had turned the dagger around so that the blade was hovering over Z’haer’s head. Both of my hands now held the dagger. Z’haer was looking up at me. He didn’t say anything but I could tell from the look in his eye…he was telling me to do it. I bit my lip and prepared myself for what I was about to do.

“I’m so sorry…”

[animeomegas]

Omega!Itachi Getting Married

Anon:  Helllooo!!! I was wonderin if u could write for omega itachi getting married. I'd really appreciate it :)

(Hello! Hello! This is the oldest request in my inbox, so I hope this ends up being worth the wait! Enjoy~ <3)

Warning: implied sexual activity

General headcanons - Non-massacre AU:

Itachi has always known that he would get married someday.

After all, it was his duty as clan heir.

But he never expected to actually love his mate. He was required to angle for a politically/socially advantageous match and he had made his peace with that.

If he had to marry someone to keep peace between clans, he would. If he had to marry someone his parents chose for him to keep conflict in the family down, he would.

Itachi’s fatal flaw is that he doesn’t see his comfort/happiness as important.

And while he looked forward to his future children, his future spouse was a neutral event. It would happen, whether he wanted it to or not, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Best case scenario, he might have a new friend, or at least someone he respects, to live with him.

Worst case scenario, he ends up in a horrible marriage. He tried not to think too much about this option.

He never expected there to be any love between him and his future spouse.

Until he met you.

He found a person who actually loved him. An alpha who was as dedicated to a future family as he was. A partner who respected him more than he had ever hoped.

And Itachi fell hard and fast.

So, when you proposed, he felt like everything he had never dared to hope for was coming true.

You went to get his parents’ permission first (and the permission of the clan by proxy) and did the proposal in front of them. It wasn’t ideal, you knew Itachi would be happier with a private proposal, but you also knew that Itachi wouldn’t believe that he had their approval unless he saw it first-hand.

Itachi and his family are very traditional, so you weren’t mated before you got married, instead, you mated on your wedding night.

Itachi is very happy to let his family dictate the wedding. He doesn’t care as long as he’s married to you at the end of the day.

(But he does have preferences that you can extract from him, but getting Itachi’s true opinion, can be like pulling teeth.)

Proposal:

You had known Itachi since you were both 18, two years now. You had been courting him officially for a year and a half before you proposed.

As I mentioned, you proposed in front of Itachi’s parents, to make sure that he knew that you had gained their approval.

Sasuke was also there, after years of bribery, finally accepting of you and Itachi’s relationship. You met Sasuke when he had just graduated from the academy, and he was not impressed by this new person stealing his brother from him when he wanted Itachi to train him ☹

For Itachi, it was a normal family dinner.

He definitely noticed that you were behaving nervously, but he knew his family could be stiff, overly traditional and a little intimidating, so he figured that was the cause of your discomfort.

Sasuke was also staring at you suspiciously the whole evening, but to be honest, sometimes Sasuke was just like that, so Itachi thought nothing of it.

You kept a hand on his knee for the entire meal, only letting go of him when you announced that you had brought dessert for everyone and would be happy to serve it.

Itachi smiled his gorgeous smile at you, so pleased to see you making an effort with his family (or perhaps he was smiling about the desert, Itachi’s sweet tooth is legendary after all. It was difficult to tell.)

Nervously clenching your hands, you walked over to the fridge, pulling out the plate of dango you had hidden in there earlier. It was Itachi’s favourite, and if there was anything to convince him to say yes to your proposal, it was a demonstration of how much dango you were willing to buy for him.

‘Don’t mess this up,’ you said to yourself, gingerly sliding the plate of dango out of the fridge. It was an elaborate platter that had cost far too much. There were seven different dango flavours with an assortment of dips and dressings, arranged artfully with fruit and dried flowers to decorate the plate.

You walked to back to the table and presented the plate with a dramatic flourish to hide your nerves.

Itachi’s face lit up. Despite your nerves, his obvious excitement put a smile on your face. He really was perfect.

And that’s why you can’t mess this up.

“There’s anko, green tea, sesame,” you pointed at each flavour as you listed them. “Hanami and…er… some other ones…?”

Sasuke scoffed at your embarrassing failure to recall the flavours, causing a red flush to creep up your neck. You didn’t even know that there was this many dango flavours before yesterday! Thankfully, he didn’t say anything, perhaps due to the sharp look Itachi had shot at him.

“I made sure to get enough for everyone, but there’s something I’d like to ask for in return.”

You could see Itachi trying to catch your eye, probably to ask what an earth you were doing, but you purposefully avoided looking in his direction.

“The only thing I ask,” you continued, nervously. “Is for a minute of your time before we eat dessert.”

Mikoto smiled at you and nodded for you to go ahead with a gentle wave of her hand. Sasuke simply raised an eyebrow at you but didn’t interrupt.

“Great,” you laughed nervously. “Um, so, er, Itachi.”

Itachi straightened under your sudden attention. He looked immensely uncomfortable and confused, he was probably panicking about you doing something in front of his family that you would regret. He always played liaison between you and his family to avoid conflict and was probably not comfortable with you doing this. Unfortunately, he would never believe that you had his parents’ approval if you didn’t propose in front of them.

“I’ve known you for two years now, Itachi,” you started, finally looking at Itachi in the eye. “And it sounds horribly cheesy, but I think that I fall in love with you more every day.”

A barely audible gasp left Itachi. He was a genius, after all, he had probably figured out where this was going. He looked torn between panicked and elated, seeming to settle somewhere around shell-shocked.

“I’ve come to realise recently that, a life without that love, without your love, isn’t a life that I want.”

You can just about see tears gathering in Itachi’s waterline. It doesn’t look like he’s breathing at all.

With one final rush of bravery, you pulled out the diamond ring that had been weighing down your pocket for months and knelt down onto the dining room floor.

“Will you marry me?”

Itachi’s head whips around to face his parents, most likely preparing some serious damage control. But when he sees his mother’s gentle smile and his father’s subtle nod, he slowly moves his gaze back to you. You’ve never seen him look so shocked before. It was almost amusing enough to distract you from your nerves. Almost.

“I-,” Itachi swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Just say what you want to say, Itachi,” his mother replies, trying to encourage him.

His mother’s words seemed to break him out of his stupor and Itachi breathes out a single word.

“Yes.”

You let out a delighted and relieved laugh, taking Itachi’s hand in yours and slipping the ring onto his finger, and even though his family were all watching you, you couldn’t help but pull him into an embrace.

“I love you so much,” you whispered to him. “I’ll read you my real proposal speech this evening.”

Itachi laughed into your shoulder. His laughter had a hysteric edge to it, his mind still clearly reeling at what you had just done.  

“Real speech?”

“You didn’t think I was going read my real proposal out in front of your parents, did you? No way. They still think we’re virgins and I didn’t want to spoil that illusion for them.”

Itachi quickly and efficiently jabbed you in the stomach and hit you with his infamous glare.

“Okay, I deserved that,” you winced, gingerly rubbing the sore spot.

Finally, you pulled away and moved to dish out the dango. And if Itachi got the biggest portion, well, no one mentioned it.

   Planning:

Itachi lets his clan take over the planning.

He doesn’t want to deal with the stress of having to combat his family at every turn and would much rather just let them do it. As long as you’re there with him, nothing else really matters.

But even when his clan leave the smaller decisions up to him, he’s hesitant to voice his opinions, wanting his alpha to make them as an apology for his family commandeering everything.

But if you pay attention to little signs and reactions that Itachi gives, you can figure out some of his wants and desires.

Overall, there isn’t much to say about the wedding planning, because Itachi doesn’t do much of it.

Things he wants (compromise available/no compromise allowed):

Sasuke as his groomsman and Shisui as his best man – Itachi doesn’t have many close friends or relatives. He has you, Sasuke, Shisui… er, he’d probably invite his old captain Kakashi and… well, you get the point. So, every person who is important to him needs to be by his side at his wedding, and who is more important than his best friend and little brother.

A traditional wedding – He isn’t actually that bothered by what type of wedding he has, but he knows his family and clan will insist on a traditional celebration and as I mentioned, he doesn’t want to fight. The elders will push the wedding to be held in the clan compound and Itachi would be told to wear a traditional Uchiha wedding garment.

A sweets cart – This is something that he won’t bring up, and therefore isn’t bolded, but it’s very easy to see his face light up when he sees this in a wedding catalogue. It’s a wooden cart with different jars of sweets with little scoops for people to help themselves to. Itachi loves sweet food, obviously, but he also thinks it would be something the children in the clan would adore. He kind of really wants one, but he won’t bring it up unless someone else does first.

An early wedding – He won’t fight you or his family about this, but ideally, he would like to get married in the morning, maybe around 8 or 9 AM. Itachi is definitely an early bird who prefers the ambience of the early morning which is part of the reason, but mainly he just wants the performative part of the wedding over and done with so he can start his honeymoon. He doesn’t find it appealing to spend all night pretending to tolerate the elders of his clan who will almost certainly spend their time berating him for his choice of partner and then telling him he needs to have as many children as possible because he’s a powerful ninja that will produce powerful children. He just doesn’t want to deal with it. Leaving at 6 PM with you to go on your honeymoon and finally, finally mate? That sounds much more fun.

To try and conceive on his honeymoon – Obviously, he’s not going to force anything if you aren’t ready, but he would really love to start trying to conceive straight away. He’s desperate to have his own children, firstly, but also, he knows this is his only ticket to retiring from being a ninja. He wants to retire so badly, and so if you’re both ready for children, he doesn’t want to wait.

 The wedding:

You don’t see Itachi for a day before the wedding, as is tradition. You see him for the first time that weekend when he’s walking down the hall towards you.

And as Fugaku walks Itachi down the aisle, you are completely breathless.

He looks stunning.

His hair had been intricately platted with flowers, some lose strands of hair left to frame his face.

He’s wearing a deep red, formal kimono just as you expected, but it looked so much more beautiful than you had imagined.

He looked like royalty.

The whole ceremony flew by, and before you knew it, it was time for you and Itachi to say goodbye and leave for your honeymoon.

Your honeymoon was to be had at a cabin held deep in the woods on the Uchiha compound. The rule was that married couples could not be disturbed for anything other than a life-or-death emergency, so you would be completely alone.

It might have been nice to go abroad, but the Uchiha clan didn’t want Itachi to be distracted by his honeymoon outside of Konoha where he might be attacked and his eyes stolen.

You both had already been by to drop off everything you would need for the week, including clothes, food, games and toiletries.

So, now, all that was left was for you two to get there yourself.

You and Itachi had decided to amble your way to the cabin, taking your time to enjoy each other’s company after a day of socialising with everyone but each other. Not to mention that neither of your outfits were particularly well designed for gallivanting through the forest. It would be rather embarrassing to have to end your self-imposed isolation to go to the hospital on day one, so walking slowly was probably a good idea.

You had been walking for about thirty minutes so the cabin should be… There! You were there!

“Wait!” you shot out a hand to stop Itachi from entering, startling him slightly. “Don’t go in yet.”

Itachi furrowed his brows, absently blowing a stray hair from his face that must have fallen down during the walk.

“I… want to carry you inside,” you admitted bashfully.

Itachi chuckled but stepped closer to let you do it. You beamed at him, pressing a kiss against his lips as a thank you. He looked a lot more tired than this morning; his hair was falling out of its elaborate placement and the makeup you were sure he was coerced into using was a little smudged.

He really was the most beautiful person you had ever met.

With his permission now gained, you placed an arm around his shoulders and another arm behind his knees, before gently lifting him off the ground. You nuzzled Itachi’s neck, enjoying his content scent and the way he sighed happily at your attention.

With your husband firmly in your grasp, you nudged open the front door with your foot and stepped safely over the threshold. You carried Itachi all the way to the bedroom and placed him down gently on the bed.

Itachi leant up to steal a kiss.

“Bringing me straight to the bedroom, you are incorrigible,” he teased, kicking off his shoes and making himself comfortable on the bed.

“I-I wasn’t, I didn’t mean that!” you sputtered, flushing under Itachi’s laughter. Silence fell over the room for a moment as the exhaustion from the day swept over you both.

“Would you mind helping me out of this kimono, please? I think it’s time for something a little more comfortable.”

It took a solid ten minutes to get Itachi out of his clothes and into some pyjamas. Ten minutes and a lot of swear words as every layer seemed to be hiding another one underneath.

“This wasn’t how I imagined undressing you on our wedding night, that felt a lot like pass the parcel but somehow more stressful.”

“Oh?” Itachi questioned, pulling you to sit down on the bed with him, finally free from the constraints of his wedding attire. “How did you imagine it?”

Rather than answer with words, you pressed wet kisses over Itachi’s neck, smirking against his skin as you felt his hand come up to grasp at your hair and a gentle moan escape from his lips.

This was definitely going to be the best part of the celebrations.

[xcrystalzero]

let the rain fall

characters included: zhongli, diluc, childe, kaeya, venti, xiao

summary: it seems the genshin boys have their own preferences of how to spend a rainy day.

Zhongli:

- This gloomy atmosphere is nothing that can't be fixed with a fresh pot of fine tea and some good conversation.

- When a glance out the window makes it clear that you won't be going anywhere anytime soon, he's quick to invite you to stay for some tea and snacks.

- Despite his evident lack of Mora, he has no lack of niceties where he lives and you can only wonder who he got to pay for this high grade tea and fine china.

- He offers you a knitted blanket and the two of you sit at the table as he pours you a cup of tea. It tastes warm and homey and he even sweetened it perfectly to your taste.

- To fill the time, Zhongli does what he does best. He tells you stories about Liyue, both as it is now, and as he knew it when he was a younger god. He weaves modern stories of families warring in certain trade businesses with seemingly fantastical recollections of rock spirits carved into dragons and gods that warred between the sea and sky.

- To him, time may not be an issue, but in the hectic mortal life you live, you've never before been able to truly sit down and listen to the experiences of the man before you. Even as the sky outside clears, you can't bring yourself to rise from your seat and return to your normal life. After hearing about the life of a god, how could you?

Diluc:

- For him, it's business as usual at the Winery.

- Sure, he's probably not going to be making the treck to Mondstat to work the bar at Angel's Share if it's raining cats and dogs outside, but there's plenty of other work that has to get done that he can manage from home.

- If you do manage to pry him away from his desk, you attempt to draw him back to the bedroom to get a little bit of rest, but as you pass the study, his eyes light up and you can tell that he has something else planned now.

- Suddenly, you're sitting across from Diluc, a chessboard between you. If you have no idea how to play, he'll diligently take the time to instruct you, making sure that you're able to understand the game perfectly before he proposes a practice match. Otherwise, he comes out of the gate with that one and there's a strange competitive glint in his eyes that you've never really seen before.

- And so you play. Diluc, for all of his gentlemanly qualities, is not one to throw the match just because he likes you. In fact, that actually spurs him on even more to try and one-up you at every turn. The gameplay is accompanied by an uncharacteristic amount of banter between the two of you. Every time one person takes the match, the other immediately issues another challenge and so you play on and on.

- The maids come to check on you guys since they're sure that you'll burn out at this rate, but you seem to be having a lot of fun, and so they let you be. The weather and your responsibilities are all but forgotten about as the two of you get to spend this well-earned time off together.

Childe:

- Thinks the rain is really fun. Growing up in basically a polar tundra, he didn't really see rain all that much until he left his hometown and began his duties as a Harbinger.

- The novelty of the whole thing combined with his hydro vision and love of water means that he loves rainy days.

- Will 100% drag you out into the downpour just to play around. At first, it seems a little out of character, even for the playful Harbinger, but you quickly realize what he's actually trying to do.

- That aforementioned hydro vision comes in handy as Childe begins to move the raindrops around him, molding them into creations that you can't help but compare to the Oceanid's hyrdo mimics. He's clearly having a blast and the light in his usually flat cerulean eyes only brightens when he sees that you're impressed, or at least amused.

- He just likes to show off, but showing off in front of you is even better so he has a blast. Perhaps if you have a vision, you can join in and the two of you can cause as much chaos as you want before the clouds clear.

- It's a rare chance for you to see a more carefree side of Childe. Usually, even his boyish charm is often a calculated move in the diplomatic schemes he claims to hate so much but is just so good at manufacturing. This however, feels like the real Childe to you.

- Eventually, you drag him into your place to get cleaned up and out of your soaked clothing but even as the moment fades, the light in his eyes doesn't. He looks better like this, you think but don't say. Instead, you chose to enjoy this side of the Harbinger before it inevitably fades away once more.

Kaeya:

- Does not like the rain because of certain... complications with it in his past. He won't tell you but it's not too hard to figure out from his actions.

- When it does rain, he prefers to either hole himself up in his office, or settle happily into the corner of a tavern and burn time with his drinking buddies.

- On the chance that you decide to join him, he's quite grateful for your company. He offers to cover your tab this time if you get him the next time he's had a few too many, which you wave off. However, as he begins to down drinks at an alarming speed, you can't help but worry.

- So, you slow him down by drawing him into conversation. You begin to talk about the most random things, though you continuously bring the conversation back around to him so that it is Kaeya telling the stories and doing a lot of the actual speaking. Not only does this slow down his progress through the wine before him, but it draw the other patrons to you.

- Suddenly, you've gone from two people talking at the bar, to basically a large gathering of people, all holed in together telling their stories, bantering, and bickering, and enjoying themselves.

- It takes him a while since you were kind of slick about it, but the Cavalry Captain catches on eventually and the smallest of smiles comes to his face. A real one this time. Well well, as far as playing games goes, he's pretty sure you won this one. And he's glad about it.

- He becomes significantly more relaxed after that, though he leans into you for the rest of the night, resting his head on your shoulders or pulling you gently closer to him. Nothing spicy or suggestive. Just a gentle gesture to show that he really is grateful for all of this, and for you.

Venti:

- Decides that it's the perfect time to start singing in the square.

- No seriously, you're wandering around Mondstat looking for the guy, only to find him traipsing around at the base of his statue, singing into the sky.

- Obviously, you yell at him to come inside, mentioning that he's not going to get any coins for his songs if there's no audience out to listen to them. He laughs at that, giving you a quick lecture of the value of music outside of money.

- And then he grabs your hand and pulls you out from under the overhanging you were taking shelter under. You screech at first but it turns to giggles as he then holds his hand out to you. "May I have this dance? Hehe, I've always wanted to say that!" How could you turn away such an adorable archon?

- And so, you indulge him, letting him lead you in a dance that is more skipping and jumping about than really dancing, but it's fun and brings bubbles of laughter to your lips so you keep going. He sings throughout it, making your own music as you spin around one another.

- Your shenanigans begin to draw some looks as people begin to yell from their windows, requesting songs from Venti, along with whatever dance you decide to "choreograph" to them. Perhaps some will even leave their houses and join you, reveling in the cool summer rain and the song that seems to cut straight through it.

Xiao:

- Adepti are rarely bothered by the rain, but he notes that you don't seem particularly keen on setting foot outside right now and actually suggests that the two of you just stay at Wangshu Inn until it clears up a little.

- You're surprised by his care, though you're not complaining as you dip back under the roof, protected and dry.

- That being said, you can tell that he's getting kind of antsy and you don't want him to feel uncomfortable at all or like he's being held there for no reason. So, you decide to find an activity for the two of you that doesn't involve fighting and that you can do inside of the inn.

- It takes a little convincing but you manage to get Smiley Yanxiao to loan you guys the kitchen for a little while (he's not getting any customers either way in this weather). It's time, you decide, for Xiao to learn how to make Almond Tofu himself!

- He's a bit skeptical but you bring up that it is his favorite dish, and he does eat it pretty often, so he should probably know what goes into making it. He begrudgingly agrees and you start.

- As it turns out, having never cooked in his long life, Xiao is awful at it. You guys absolutely botch the recipe the first two times and you're sure that Xiao is going to bail on you, saying that this was a stupid idea and going back to sulking at the top of the inn. Surprisingly though, he actually stays and seems like he's invested in the entire process.

- On the third try, you guys finally come up with something tangible. After a taste, it's not quite on the level of the one Smiley Yanxiao makes, but it's still not bad. Xiao is tempted to just huff and take off, but the look of accomplishment and happiness on your face as you two share the dish you made together warms him in a way he only feels when he's around you.

-Perhaps he can afford to spend more rainy days indoors and idle, if it means spending them with you.

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Eight)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.7k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, someone gets punched by someone,

Notes: Enjoy this chapter guys:) Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The room you are in is as cold and empty as you feel. The one single table with 3 chairs, 2 on one side and the one you are currently occupying across from them. The room feels chilling like ghosts haunt it. Maybe they do, you think. The silence is truly deafening and the wait for these 2 other chairs to be filled makes you anxious. It’s been a few months since you have been back here and it makes you uncomfortable each time but you know little by little you are receiving answers.

Finally, after a long wait the heavy door to the room screeches open. And in comes a man and woman in professional clothing—he in a suit and the woman in a dress suit. They smile at you awkwardly like they feel pity. They both pull out their chair and take a seat.

“Have you found it yet? The island?” you’re quick to blurt out and they nervously look at one another before frowning.

“It isn’t that easy unfortunately Miss y/l/n. We’ve been in search of this company for over 50 years.” The woman taps her fingers on the table. “We have yet to find them or this island you speak of.”

You can’t help the scoff that escapes you as you roll your eyes to the side.

“What kind of intel agency is this? You can’t even find some lame ass fucking love company.” You spit out.

The man hardens his eyes at you as he takes a long, deep breath. Obviously trying to gather his patience.

“Here’s what we do know.” He begins. “They tapped your home, your cell, all of your accounts and spied on you for over a year. Doing their…” he pauses, biting his lip. “Research…”

“And drugged you and your parents the night of the kidnapping.” The woman picks up where he left off, “And then they drugged you again to return you home and also your parents…assuming so it wasn’t to wake them while they were in your home…” she gulps…she understands how invasive this all is.

“You didn’t think to set up cameras around my parent’s house? For when they would return me? You didn’t think to keep an eye—”

“We did.” The man clears his throat, “But they….” He drags his hand down his tired face, “This company is smart. They obviously know what they are doing. The night of your return the cameras we had set up miraculously stopped working.”

You can’t help the laughter that erupts from your body. You begin shaking your head in disbelief, your laughter dying when you realize how serious this is.

“This is fucking bullshit.” You say with a tight lip smile. “Anyway…do you…do you guys…did you look into what I asked of you?” your eyes slide to the side as you nervously pull at the ends of your hair.

“The man you were with? Kim Taehyung…yes, we looked into it. We have been working with Korea’s intel in hopes to solve this case. He has been working together with them. I cannot release any personal information though.” The woman eyes her partner and her frown deepens. “Miss y/l/n…I know this is difficult and you two have been through a lot together. But I am sure you can find a way to reach out—”

“I just wanted to know how he is doing is all.” You cut her off, “It’s fine.”

~~~~~

You stare at the letter in your hands, it’s an off white color and the font in quite fancy. Your parents let you see it a few weeks after you returned home but every night you take it in your hands and stare at it. Not knowing how to take it. The company sent it to them the day you disappeared…explaining the company’s goals. They sent photos of you and Taehyung every week to prove you were alive and well. Your parents said this is what kept them sane…trusting you were okay because they couldn’t—wouldn’t accept any other reality.

Your heart aches thinking of what your parents must have been through but not just them…your sister found out through your mom and dad about the situation and she grew so worried without you. When she found out you were returned home she immediately came to you, sobbing in your arms and hasn’t left you since.

You set the letter down and pick up the pile of photos on your night stand…it’s a thick stack. You begin shuffling through them and you feel like someone has stabbed you in the chest with a dull knife and they begin to carve your heart out. It’s slow and painful…they finally take your slow beating heart and squeeze it in their hands, blood spilling and spilling. Killing you.

Some photos are just of you but majority you are accompanied by Taehyung and seeing his smiling face makes you relieve the experience of getting your heart carved out of your chest.

You glance up at your ceiling as tears begin building in your eyes, you try to blink them back, your eyes opening and closing repeatedly. But it’s no use, not when you feel this lost and hopeless. Suddenly, there is knocking on your bedroom door and your father is walking in.

“Ready sweetie? Got the rest of your things?” He steps into the room, a worried expression on his face but he tries to hide it behind a forced smile. “We should get going.”

You quickly sniffle and nod your head, shoving the stack of photos and letter into your backpack before you’re swinging it over your shoulders.

“Yup, ready.”

It’s moving day. Thankfully you found another job in your old town that you lived in, you found a new, better apartment that is close to where you use to live, you finally are getting out of your parents hair.

“Alright let’s get this show on the road!” your dad pats you on the back as you walk past him. He’s got the truck loaded and ready to go for the couple hour drive. Back to the city!

~

“This place is so much nicer than your last!” Your sister sets a box down on your new kitchen counter, “You actually have a decent sized kitchen! Not that you really cook.” She laughs.

“Hey!” you whine, “I told you I learned quite a bit of cooking while on the island.”

“You also told me that your boyfriend cooked a lot too…so I’ll just assume he did all the work.” She teases and your face falls.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” Your lips curls so far down that it’s almost comical but alas, it is not because you feel your eyes sting.

“Sorry…” your sister walks to the living room, joining you. She reaches for the box in your arms and sets it down on the floor. “y/n…just message him.”

“…I can’t.” you feel your chest start to burn, “The way things got left…I don’t know how to speak to him.” you admit. “and it’s been so long. If he hasn’t already moved on then he at least hates my guts.”

“Yeah I probably would too.” Your sister nods her head and you swat her arm.

“Thanks Ellie.” You deadpan. “Anyway, I just can’t.”

“He is probably waiting for you…he loves you.”

“You don’t know him?” you laugh quietly, “So how would you know?”

“I’ve seen the pictures of you two, in the moment pictures, and dude, he looks so taken with you in every single one.”

You can’t help the way your heart drops to your stomach. You told him you thought your feeling may not be real…those are some of your last words to him and that kills you. Without a doubt he has had to have moved on from you…why would he torture himself?

~

Later that night you are snuggled up in your bed with your sister snoozing beside you. You have your phone (Damn you missed this device) and are scrolling through Taehyung’s Instagram. You notice he posted a new group photo just 4 hours ago. You look at all the tags and see all his friends…Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi, Jimin and Jungkook. But there are also a few girls in the photo. You notice the tag for Hana. You hate that your heart completely stops beating in your chest then suddenly starts racing. Hana. He’s hanging out with Hana? Wait, why are you surprised? You take a deep breath and click her name to view her page and then that’s when your heart really stops. Her most recent photo is of her and Taehyung, their faces smooshed together with wide smiles on their faces with the caption “Missed you.” With pink hearts.

She’s pretty. Really fucking pretty. No wonder Taehyung liked her. Liked? Or likes? Are they together now? They look awfully close. You feel your eyes sting for the millionth time this day and they begin to bubble with tears. This is your fault. You pushed him away, so far away, into another woman’s arms. You start to feel lost and hopeless again…you decide stalking Taehyung through social media probably isn’t the healthiest thing for you or your heart. You continue scrolling on Hana’s page…she has lots of photos with friends, pretty Korean scenery, selfies and more. She looks lively and beautiful, oh so fucking beautiful.

You exit the app and click your phone off. You squeeze your eyes shut and a few pathetic tears that you do not deserve slide out and down your face. You really need to move on, you really need to focus on you. But how can you when a huge part of you feels like it’s been ripped from you? Taehyung was a part of you and you think he still is. You feel crushed, fucking crushed. He is probably with Hana now and you absolutely cannot blame him.

Taehyung is doing fine. Just fine. With or without you. And that reality is setting in and it hurts. It fucking hurts. But you have no one to blame but yourself.

“Why are you doing this, huh? Things were so perfect.” He stops in front of you and pulls you up by the arms. Your chests almost touch from how close you are. “Unless…” he looks down at his feet, “You’re saying all of this because that’s how you feel. You’re the one unsure of your feelings. You’re the one who only likes me—loves me—because there’s no one else.” He looks into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Maybe.” You finally say. And you wish you didn’t because Taehyung releases a shaky breath and his brows crease together as he forms the saddest smile you have ever seen. The canvas of his life is full of beautiful bright colors but you continue to splatter blue and grey paint all over it. The paint mixes together and drips down, a gloomy mess.

“Oh.” He steps back. “I see.” He takes another step back, carding his fingers through his hair. He looks into your eyes as his gloss over, “I’ll leave you alone then.” And he turns around and walks out of the room, leaving you behind.

Why does this scene replay in your mind every single day. Every single night. His sad, sad expression leaving an ever lasting imprint in your mind. You feel broken, but you also feel angry. How dare the company send you back when you and Taehyung have so much to resolve? What is the purpose? What are their intentions? You ball the sheets in your hands as you release breath after frustrated breath. What was the point of all this? Somewhere deep in your gut you feel like this isn’t over. You feel like the company still has some ties to you…you can’t explain it…just a gut feeling.

To say you hate yourself is an understatement. You truly can’t stand to even look yourself in the mirror. You ruined the best thing that has ever happened to you—Taehyung. But you should be happy, right? He’s doing well. He has his friends, his family, Hana. He is absolutely 100% doing just fine and you have to accept that.

~~~~~

“You can’t live like this dude.” Namjoon throws a trash bag on to Taehyung’s bed, signaling him to use it.

“Yeah…Joon is right.” Jimin starts picking up some trash off the floor…mostly empty food containers. “This is getting out of hand. I know things haven’t been easy—”

Jimin is cut off with Taehyung groaning loudly and dramatically. He lifts his head off his pillow, his face evident with sleep as he eyes his two friends in his apartment.

“Get up.” Namjoon lightly kicks the bed with his foot, “And open a damn window or something.”

“And maybe take a shower. You reek of this hangover I am sure you have…” Jimin sits down on the edge of the bed, his hand going to Taehyung’s back, rubbing it soothingly. “She isn’t coming around Tae.” Jimin says as softly as possible, “She isn’t—”

“We don’t know that.” Taehyung cuts him off, grumbling. “She could.”

“You said it yourself, she isn’t sure of her feelings…why aren’t you letting it go?” Namjoon sits down on the bed as well.

“I know her.” Taehyung begins to sit up from his place in bed, his hand flying up to his pounding head. “Fuck. I’m hungover.” He complains.

“You went too hard last night.” Jimin frowns, “Again.”

“So what? You think she lied to you? That she does love you?”

“She was just scared.” Taehyung whispers. “Trust me, I know her.” He repeats again.

Jimin and Namjoon share a look of pity mixed with concern. Jimin stands from the bed, taking the trash bag with him, he opens it up and starts filling it with the garbage around the apartment. Taehyung just watches Jimin clean up and he starts to feel a sense of guilt. Maybe he has been a handful the last few months.

Taehyung is trying his best though.

The unfamiliar bed along with the unfamiliar room was indication enough that Taehyung was in a place without you. It only took him halves of seconds to realize he was in his parents’ home in their spare room. A place he didn’t frequent very often. But he understood his situation right away. The island returned him home to Korea but suddenly this place feels like the last place like home.

When he made his existence known to his mother and father they cried over and over for their son. His father going on about his regrets, how he wishes he would have supported Taehyung more in following his own dreams and so on. His mother wishing she had cooked his favorite meal more often. They basically took his disappearance on the island as his death. At least that’s how Taehyung sees it.

His parents’ received the letter as well, even the photographs. They know all about you. They know that Taehyung is in love, they know Taehyung heart aches. They know everything. They were honestly rooting for you two…they could see how much love went on between the two of you even through pictures.

But as the days went on, as the weeks went on and as the months went on, Taehyung started to feel like he is withering away with every day that passed that you did not reach out to him. Did your time on the island with him mean nothing to you? Even if you ‘maybe’ weren’t in love with him like you claimed you were still friends for god’s sake. You still without a doubt had a powerful connection.

Things have been hard. Really fucking hard. But nothing is harder than the day when the Korean intel agency notified him that you were good, that you were okay. That you were home. But they could not release any personal information. You were home…you were okay…but you still have not reached out? He’s relieved you’re well but that also comes with the disappointment that you are choosing to stay to yourself.

“Yoongi wants to work on that new song tonight, what do you say?” Namjoon stands from the bed as well and makes his way into the small kitchen for a glass of water.

“Not in the mood.” Taehyung mumbles underneath his breath.

“Listen Taehyung…” Namjoon walks back into the room, his hands crossed over his chest as he looks at Taehyung with narrowed eyes.

“If you’re serious about this, being with her, that is. Then fucking do something about it.” Namjoon continues to stare down at him while Jimin keeps cleaning.

“I don’t have her number, I can’t find her anywhere on the internet and I barely know where she lives. What the fuck can I do?” Taehyung grits out, raising his voice just the slightest as he talks.

“….There has to be something.” Jimin speaks up. “A clue.”

“A fucking clue? What are we? Fucking detectives?” Taehyung throws his hands up, frustrated.

“Jimin’s right.” Namjoon uncrosses his arms and runs a hand through his hair, “She must have mentioned something, anything. You have to think.”

“You think I have the mental capability to think right now?” Taehyung questions with a bitter chuckle. “She doesn’t do much. She never mentioned some grand event she goes to every year, she didn’t mention what school she went to, she didn’t mention what company she worked for, she didn’t fucking mention anything. She stays to herself.” Then Taehyung’s eyes go wide.

“You know I use to go to this coffee place almost every single day. I miss it. That routine. It’s called ------------…a small, family owned shop. Only one of its kind. I would read, write, journal. Just relax. Every day.” You breathe out, missing your comfort spot.

Taehyung rushes to stand from the bed, he is quick to scoop Jimin up in his arms and place a dramatic kiss to his cheek.

“Jimin you fucking genius!” Taehyung suddenly remembered the night you had a panic attack. When you calmed down enough to speak you told him all the things you missed about your real life. Including some coffee place you would frequent on the regular. But he cannot remember the name of it for the life of him.

“What? What?” Jimin starts giggling, “Why?”

“A coffee shop! She used to go to a coffee shop!” Taehyung basically yells in excitement.

“Okay, what’s it called?” Namjoon smiles and immediately Taehyung expression turns sour.

“I…I don’t remember. But it was family owned, only one of its kind.”

Namjoon can’t help the frown that decorates his face but then he tries to smile.

“Better start doing your research lover boy.”

~

“Cozy Coffee. It’s in (Your city).” Taehyung slams a sheet of paper onto the bar top in front of Namjoon. “I found it.”

“What’d you find?” Jin asks from besides him, “Wait that place y/n goes to?”

Taehyung nods his head quickly with a wide ass smile adoring his face.

“Yup.”

“Now what, kid?” Yoongi brings his beer to his lips as he takes a generous sip. “You going to call that place and ask for her?” he laughs a little.

“No.” Taehyung straightens his back as he speaks. “I’m going there.”

“You’re…” Hobi begins but stops when he sees how serious Taehyung is.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jungkook starts shaking his head. “This girl—”

“y/n.” Taehyung snaps.

“Right…” Jungkook gulps. “y/n…she ignores you these last 6 months and you are still trying to be with her?”

All of the boys share looks with one another, frowns on everyone’s faces.

“Jungkook is right—”

“Tae told her he would do whatever it takes…he also believes in her feelings. So let’s believe in him.” Jimin cuts in, his hand going to Taehyung’s shoulder and giving him a smile.

“Jimin is right…” Namjoon breathes out, “Let’s trust in our Taehyungie.”

“But don’t forget what she did to you Taehyung.” Jungkook whispers seriously. “You weren’t okay…”

Another day passes and still, nothing from you. Taehyung brings yet another bottle of soju to his mouth as he starts downing it. He feels his world collapsing around him. He feels how everything around him is cracking and breaking apart. But the most cracked, broken thing is him. He looks at himself in the mirror and stares into his empty eyes, these same eyes that used to gaze at you. These same eyes that saw your smile, laugh, cry. These same eyes that undressed you. These same eyes that saw you coming undone over and over. These same eyes.

Taehyung chugs back his drink, his eyes never leaving his reflection as he finishes the bottle. He made a mistake tonight, a drunken mistake but a mistake nonetheless. He slept with Hana. Taehyung, the boys and Hana and her girlfriends were all at the bar tonight and he just doesn’t see her that way. Yet, he was inside her just an hour ago. He slowly closes his eyes, regret and guilt filling his entire being. What the fuck did he do?

His life is all over the place, a mess, if you will. A big, fat messy mess. He got a new apartment, leaving his parents’ house and he doesn’t think he has cleaned it even once since moving in. He drowns in alcohol, he drowns in unfinished songs, he drowns in his friends concerns and mostly? He drowns in you.

He stares at your photographs an unhealthy amount. He has cried over your photos countless times, he has touched himself to them too. Somehow that is more satisfying than the sex he just shared with Hana. The empty fuck he just gave her haunts him in this very mirror. Did he betray you? Have you also fucked someone new? Have you moved on?

Taehyung stares at himself, hating what he sees. You’re doing this to him. He went from being miserably depressed to angry. He’s beginning to blame you for everything with rage. But as much as he wants to hate you—he does want to—he just can’t. He can’t gather that type of energy in your direction. He just can’t.

Hana looks very pretty tonight…she’s been trying extra hard lately, Taehyung thinks. She is always casually got a hand on his arm, she always finds a way to be standing next to him, talking to him, leaning into him. Taehyung isn’t stupid. She wants him still. She apparently dated during the 8 months he was gone but nothing serious came from it. And now here she is, sleeping on his bed as he drinks by himself in his bathroom mirror.

So many different thoughts have gone through Taehyung’s head. Is he hard to love? That’s the main question that came out of all of this. You spent every day with him for 8 months and you weren’t even sure of your feelings. Shouldn’t a person know by then? He’s trying to be understanding…he is trying so fucking hard to understand but how can he? When he is balls deep in love with you and he doesn’t have to question it at all.

He is spiraling, he is being sucked into a darkness that he can’t crawl out of. He looks at himself in the mirror again, his eyes narrowing at his own reflection—disgusted with what he sees. He grips the empty bottle of soju as he feels his eyes wet with tears. He grips on to the bottle harder and harder, tears now leaving his big brown eyes. He growls out, groaning in frustration as he lifts the bottle up and throws it at his mirror. Glass shattering everywhere.

Startled, Hana jumps from the bed and rushes to the loud sound, finding Taehyung just standing lifeless, continuing to eye himself in the broken mirror. He likes what he sees much better. The cracked glass making for a better reflection, a more accurate representation of what he truly sees when he views himself.

“What the fuck?!” Hana yells out, rushing to Taehyungs side. “Are you okay???”

Taehyung walks closer to the mirror and lightly slides his hand down the cracked mirror, his fingers careful not to get cut.

“No.” he answers honestly and quietly. “I’m not.”

“I’m fine, Jungkook.” Taehyung assures him, “At least I will be…when I see her.”

“What if she doesn’t want to see you?” Yoongi says quietly, worried for his friend. He brings his beer to the bar top and stares at the liquid.

“I’ll get to that when I get to that.” Taehyung sighs out…”I can’t let go of this until I know for sure.”

~~~~~~

Settling into your new job has been smooth, thankfully. It’s only been a few weeks but you can say you really like it. Your boss is an older woman, your coworkers seem nice and the work isn’t too taxing. Your apartment is starting to come together as well, only a few more boxes left to unpack. On the outside things are honestly going well…your life looks normal and put together. But on the inside you continue to fall apart.

“Come on!” Ellie whines, “Just give me one little, tiny, juicy detail.”

“Ew, no!” you laugh, “I have nothing to share!”

“Oh, bullshit.” Ellie takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke the other direction.

You two are sitting on your balcony, watching the evening sun set.

“You are trying to tell me you two didn’t fuck? Not even once?” Ellie gives you a knowing smile and you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay maybe once.”

“I call bullshit again.” Ellie starts to laugh, thrusting her hips forward theatrically, “I bet you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Something like that.” You admit shyly.

“I don’t blame you. He looks so hot.” Ellie takes another puff of her cigarette. “What was he like in bed?”

“Ugh, Ellie.” You groan, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Afraid of getting horny thinking about it?” She chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, I’ll tell you one thing.” You hold one finger up, giving her a look that says you are serious. Ellie giggles, nodding her head in agreement.

“He’s…big.” You basically whisper.

“He’s what?”

“Shut up, you heard me.” You laugh, “First time I saw it he wasn’t even fully hard and I was impressed.” You smirk, feeling proud of Taehyung’s gorgeous dick.

“Damn girl. Nice.” Ellie nods in approval, “Did he know how to use it?”

“Ugh….yes.” you roll your eyes back, remembering the feel of his cock. “He did. Aaaannnd he is probably using it on his new girlfriend.” You sigh, feeling your heart break piece by piece in your chest.

“What? What do you mean???” Ellie puts her cigarette out in the ash tray, “New girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” You keep it short and simple. “Anyway, I really do not want to talk about him anymore.”

“…Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

You give your sister a sad, small smile and she returns it. You feel your phone buzz in your lap and you go to pick it up, you quite literally feel all the color drain from your face. Your heart stops completely. What the actual fuck? Why is he texting you? Him of all people?

~

Finally gathering the courage to buy his plane ticket, Taehyung begins packing for his trip. He got a roundtrip flight for one week. He has one week to find you. He’s starting to get nervous, really fucking nervous. He had all this confidence to do this but honestly? Over the last 6-7 months he has become quite insecure. You left him in shambles. He grew weak without you, he grew pathetic in his eyes.

“Make sure you bring plenty of underwear.” Jimin teases, helping Taehyung pack. “You never pack enough and somehow end up going commando.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Taehyung is too nervous to even joke around, he is too nervous to even look at Jimin—his best friend—for more than a second because he is afraid he is going to see right through him.

“You’re nervous.” Jimin blurts out and Taehyung opens his mouth in shock. But should he be? Jimin is his best friend, he can read him like a book.

“Yeah…”

“I think you have every right to be.” Jimin pats him on the shoulder, “You have been through a lot…and so much is unknown.”

“Yeah….” Taehyung agrees, “I feel like I’m walking into this blind.”

“You kind of are.” Jimin admits quietly. “You kind of are.”

“Do you think…I’m making a mistake?” Taehyung sits down on his bed, messing with the blanket between his fingers.

“No.” Jimin answers honestly. “I am probably the one who has heard about y/n the most. I almost feel like I know her.” Jimin laughs, “And I think you’re right. She was scared. This company…fuck that company by the way, this company set you two up and tried to force love on you. Of course that’s going to fuck her up. Of course she is going to have her doubts…you can’t blame her Tae. Yeah, it’s fucked up she hasn’t reached out at all but dude…it’s a tricky situation.”

“I know…” Taehyung’s head falls into his hands, “Fuck…I know.”

“And…” Jimin sits down next to him, “I don’t want you to regret not looking for her, it sucks that it’s you doing everything, I can admit that. I wish she would grow some fucking balls and talk to you but looks like you got to do all the work buddy.”

“Yeah.”

~

Taehyung checks into some dingy hotel downtown in the city you live, the place is dark, gritty even. But it’s just one of the first places that was affordable that popped up when he was googling places to stay. He doesn’t totally mind, he doubts he will be spending much time in here. He receives his key from the girl at the front desk, she eyes him up and down, obviously liking what she sees.

Taehyung walks down a dark hallway to reach his room—he’s starting to feel like the main character in a horror movie. He reaches his door and unlocks it, opening it and shuffling inside with his luggage. The room smells dusty, the bed is small and the blanket thin. The room is loud with the AC unit blowing freezing air and the dark curtains don’t let in any light whatsoever.

He sets his luggage down on the carpet and sits on the bed…he takes his phone out and sends a text to his group chat that he made it alive.

Namjoon 4:02pm

Good luck man, we’re rooting for you.

Jungkook 4:02pm

Fingers crossed homie

Jin 4:03pm

Bring her back to Korea

Yoongi 4:03pm

He can’t just bring her back Jin

Hobi 4:03pm

I also vote he brings her back with him

Jimin 4:04pm

I agree, I want to meet the infamous y/n

Taehyung 4:04pm

Am I also allowed to vote that I want to bring her back with me?

Taehyung quietly laughs to himself as he clicks his phone off. He lays back on the bed and groans when he feels how hard the mattress is. But it doesn’t matter because he is here on a mission, a mission to find you and he wants to waste no time.

~

Day 1:

Taehyung wakes up early to grab a bite to eat at the diner next to the hotel, this place doesn’t even offer complimentary breakfast! The audacity. He orders pancakes but they definitely aren’t as good as yours.

Waking up and breathing the same city air you’re breathing makes Taehyung for the first time in 6 months—feel alive. Like being in the same place as you is slowly helping him regain some of his self back. He knows you are here. You live here. You walk these streets, you eat these foods, you breathe this air. The same fucking air he is breathing.

Nothing excites him and makes him more nauseas. He misses you. He wants to see you. But he is afraid at the same time. He’s so fucking terrified. How will you react? Are you okay? Do you really not love him? Have you moved on? Seeing someone new? His mind races as he cuts into these pancakes.

Taehyung pulls out his phone and checks the time…almost 7 am. He needs to hurry to the coffee place…because what if you stop by there on your way to work? Or maybe you don’t work right now and you go there just to chill? He doesn’t know but he knows he won’t miss a chance to see you.

Taehyung finishes up his plate of food and pays. He leaves the diner and starts walking towards Cozy Coffee, only a 15 minute walk. He inhales deeply, hoping to somehow get a whiff of you, he looks at all the flowers on the side of the sidewalks and thinks of you. Would you be interested in a bouquet of flowers? He recalls on your first unofficial first date he gave you a handful of flowers from the island and you liked it. Ugh, what is he thinking? All he needs to be worried about right now is fucking finding you.

Finally, Taehyung makes his way inside Cozy Coffee. It’s a pretty small place but big enough for a handful of people to be occupying the many tables. His eyes scan the area but they don’t come across you. He sighs and heads towards the counter to order a tea and take a seat at a table in the back near the restrooms.

He spends hours here in this spot. The entire day actually. No sign of you. And the owner has to literally escort him out when it is closing time. He walks back to the hotel with his head hanging low, he guesses today wasn’t a day for reading or writing.

Day 2:

These pancakes aren’t bad actually, not the second time around. Yours are still better, of course but he’s getting use to them. Maybe tomorrow he should try something different.

Taehyung walks leisurely towards the coffee shop, he somehow has this idea he might run into you on the street or something. But he doesn’t.

The coffee shop is a little less busy today, Taehyung goes inside, orders his tea and occupies the same table as yesterday. He pulls his backpack to his lap and brings out a notebook and pen, he decides he will work on song lyrics today.

Hours and hours pass, tea after tea is drank and still, no sign of you. Closing time approaches and he is once again, asked to leave. Taehyung nods in understanding, gathers his belongings and walks back to the hotel. Slowly of course, because deep down he thinks he just might run into you.

Day 3:

French toast today…not as good as the pancakes but still, pretty good. He wonders if you can make French toast? You never mentioned it. Taehyung realizes there is still so much he does not know about you. The thought kind of drives him crazy. He wants to know you. Know all of you. Know you better than anyone else.

The walk to the coffee shop is slow and enjoyable. The scenery is pretty as he strolls on the sidewalk, the flowers poking through the cement bring him a small level of joy for the day. Once he enters the shop, the owner gives him a smile. He orders his tea and makes his way to the back table, pulls out his notebook and starts writing his song lyrics.

On my pillow. Can’t get me tired. Sharing my fragile truth. That I hope the door is still open. Cause the window. Opened one time with you and me. Now my forever is falling down. Wondering if you’d want me now.

Taehyung sets his pen down taking a break from writing, he reaches for his tea and takes a few sips. The liquid has gone cold. He sighs out and lets the hours pass him by. Closing time approaches like it does every night and he is asked to leave.

Day 4:

He’s back to getting pancakes. He likes to pretend they are yours, that you made them for him. He likes to imagine a life where you make breakfast for him again. He likes to imagine a life where you’re just here again. It’s almost 7 am, he needs to head to the coffee shop. He strolls casually, wondering what you are up to on this Thursday morning. Are you finally going to make an appearance at Cozy Coffee? Are you running late for work? Are you in early today?

Taehyung enters the shop and the owner gives him a sweet smile and begins working on his tea. Taehyung feels grateful that it’s being made without him even ordering it yet, a smile adorning his face. He pays for the tea and makes his way to the his table, pulls out his notebook and continues working on his song.

I’m wondering are you my best friend? Feels like a river’s rushing through my mind. I wanna ask you if this is all just in my head. My heart is pounding tonight, I wonder if you are too good to be true. And would it be alright if I pulled you closer.

Taehyung lets hours and hours pass, his pen busy on his notebook paper. The lyrics coming to him so easily for the first time in months. He can’t help the sad smile that grows on his face as he reads and rereads his song lyrics.

Just like every day when the bell of the front door jingles his head shoots up to see who it is. Now is no different. A woman comes in and his heart almost stops because she looks like you at first glance. Taehyung groans at the disappointment. Because it’s not you.

Day 5:

Okay, he is back to French toast. It’s starting to grow on him, he definitely wants to ask you to make this for him. His imagination begins to run wild with dreams of making food with you again, kissing the side of your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind you. Like the many times he has done it.

“Taehyung…” you whine as he nips your neck with his teeth. “I’m trying to concentrate on this recipe.”

“I’m trying to concentrate too.” Taehyung smirks against your soft skin, “On you.”

You can’t help the blush that begins spreading across your cheeks, his fingers dig into your hips and you moan out.

“Taehyung…”

“What is it baby?” he starts kissing your neck. “Want me to fuck you? Right here?” he digs his fingers deeper into your hips and you start grinding against him.

“Couch.” You breathe out. “I want to ride you.”

“Oh? You want to be in control? Maybe I will allow it this once.” He teases, his tongue licking a strip up to your ear, then he nibbles on the lobe.

Taehyung finds his pants getting tight as he recalls his memories with you. He misses kissing you, he misses touching you, he misses your scent, he misses your skin, your eyes, your lips.

Shit, it’s past 7. He needs to hurry to Cozy’s.

He’s seated in his spot with his tea and notebook out, he swears he is almost finished with this song…the chorus needs some work but he thinks he’s got it. Something about being ships in the night, but somehow he doesn’t have the courage to finish he song, he doesn’t want that to be his relationship with you.

Night time comes and still no sign of you. Tomorrow is his last day and he is starting to freak out. Where are you? He thought you came here all the time? Why aren’t you coming? Are you okay? He is asked to leave once again and he does.

Day 6:

Back to pancakes. Back to strolling on the side walk. Back to Cozy’s. Back to his tea. Back to his spot.

Taehyung feels the nerves in his body multiplying with every shaky breath he takes. Today is the last night, his flight is in the morning and he has made no progress on finding you. This place being his only hint.

“Excuse me…” Taehyung walks up to the counter and greets the owner.

“What can I do for you young man? Another tea?” he softly smiles at Taehyung but Taehyung shakes his head.

“I have a question…” he begins. “Do you know y/n y/l/n?”

“y/n???” the old man begins to smile after expressing his confusion, “Of course I do, that girl has been coming here for years.” He starts wiping down the counter with a rag. “Why? You looking for her? You aren’t some creepy ex-boyfriend are you?”

“No, no.” Taehyung laughs. “But I am looking for her…she usually comes here right?” he nervously chuckles.

“Usually. But she started a new job recently that has kept her a little busy…” the old man continues to wipe down the counter. “But she was in just last week! And It’s Saturday!” he cheers, “She always comes to write on weekends.”

Taehyung lights up at that. “Really??” he shows the old man a wide, boxy grin. He feels like he hasn’t smiled like that in what seems like forever. All because there is finally a chance he might see you.

“Oh…” The old man stops wiping to get a good look at Taehyung. “You look like a man in love.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen just a bit before he smiles, “Do I?”

The shop is busy today. Taehyung sits in his usual spot, writing and doodling in his notebook, his head lifting up quickly every time the door jingles. It’s never you though. It is already 6pm and there is still no sign on you and Taehyung hates that he is starting to lose hope. Are you not coming? He doesn’t have much time left.

Taehyung sits here, his pen between his lips as he thinks about you. He thinks about the first time he saw you…he really thought you were some girl he might have drunkenly hooked up with…he remembers your expression, how shocked, how scared, how overwhelmed you were. He wishes now he could go back in time and hug you. Tell you he’s with you, together. That you aren’t alone. Taehyung wishes he could kiss your temple, bring you in close and make you feel okay. He recalls the first time you two really interacted.

“We need to find out what’s going on.” Taehyung takes a deep breath, lifting his head up. He locks his eyes with yours again but you break contact to look at your feet.

“We don’t know anything…would if it’s not safe?” you quietly try to reason.

“Exactly, we don’t know anything and that’s a problem. You don’t expect us to stay in this room forever, do you?”

He has a point and you know it. You want to follow him out of this room but your feet seem to be glued to the floor.

“Well, no. But—”

“Didn’t think so.” He turns away from you, his body shuffling towards the bedrooms door but before he can become out of reach your hand flies to his shirt sleeve, tugging it softly.

“Wait! Just hold on—” Your voice wavers and Taehyung rolls his eyes. Rolls his fucking eyes at you!

“Listen, come. Or don’t. I don’t really care.” Taehyung releases your hold on his shirt, unsticking your fingers and throwing your hand towards your body. “Decide.” He states before swiftly turning around to head towards the door.

Oh. So this guy is a fucking asshole. Noted.

You end up following him because although he was rude about it, feeling someone’s touch when you feel so scared was slightly comforting and yes, you are aware of how fucking pathetic that is.

Taehyung stands in front of the door, his hand reaching for the knob when he turns his head to say, “Just trust me.”

And now you are the one rolling your eyes. Trust him? You just met the dude! 10 minutes ago his name was Future Murderer. How could you possibly trust this asshole?

“How can I trust you? I literally just met you.” The scowl on your face deepens when he smirks.

“Are you always such a fucking baby?”

“Are you always such a fucking baby?” you mock, eyes rolling so far into the back of your head.

Taehyung can’t help but chuckle. God, you were such a brat. It’s almost 7 now…still no sign of you.

“Maybe if you weren’t always following me, they would have sent us home by now.” Taehyung states bitterly as he puts his slice of bread on top of his now made sandwich.

“I’m not following you.” You roll your eyes, “I have to eat too.”

“You can’t wait until I’m done?”

“You look pretty done to me…” You point at his sandwich and he scoffs.

“I still have to eat it.”

“Eat in your room for all I care.”

You and Taehyung are getting along just fine…maybe not swimmingly but like, fine. It’s been a couple weeks and you have mostly stayed out of one another’s way but it’s moments like this that you end up interacting.

“I think I’ll eat at the table, thanks.” He grabs his sandwich and makes his way to the dining room table, sitting down with a thump. He aggressively picks up his sandwich and takes a bite while showing you a smart ass smile.

“Fantastic,” you state, “Me too.” You finish pouring milk into your cereal bowl and set it back inside the fridge. You dramatically make your way over to the table as well, giving him a wide grin as you sit down in front of him. You slightly slam your bowl down on the table, some milk dribbling over the edge of the bowl and Taehyung snarls.

“Great, you’re making a fucking mess.”

“If you went up and ate in you room you would have no idea about this mess.”

“But you still would have made this mess?”

“Ignorance is bliss, Taehyung.”

“You’re such a…” he stops, setting his lips into a firm line and you lean your head forward, clearly curious about what you are.

“Such a…?” you blink at him repeatedly and his lips curve upward into a charming smile.

“A fucking brat.” Taehyung grabs his sandwich again and takes an obnoxious bite while grinning and you give him your best annoyed eye roll.

Taehyung continues to chuckles as he goes down memory lane…he does regret being mean to you at first but god, you truly were a fucking brat. But he laughs about it now, loving every single memory he shares with you.

The door jingles and he shoots his head up, hoping it is you. But still, just like every other fucking time—it’s not.

Taehyung groans into his notebook, feeling lost and frustrated. What’s he going to do if you don’t show? He’s trying here. Is the universe really that cruel? And suddenly the door jingles again, but he doesn’t look up, he knows it isn’t you.

“Hi Mister Jones!”

Oh. Oh. That voice. That voice belongs to you. Taehyung whips his head up and there you are. You are standing at the doors entrance with a nervous smile on your face, why are you nervous? You are wearing jeans and a oversized t shirt, a casual but cute look. And Taehyung is falling in love with you. Seeing you in the real world for the first time has him frozen in place.

“The usual?”

“Yeah.” You reply calmly, glancing at the empty table at the front of the shop. You pull a chair out and take a seat, your back to Taehyung. He is still frozen. He all of the sudden feels unprepared for this. He all of the sudden feels sick. He clenches his jaw as he watches your back. You are here, living your life without even think of him aren’t you? Taehyung swallows down his anger now. He has to. Anger won’t do him any good.

He takes long breath after long breath trying to compose himself and find his confidence to go up to you and confront you. He blinks back his growing tears of frustration and stands from his table, the chair screeching against the wooden floors.

He stands here, frozen again. What if you really do not want to see him? That this was all intentional? He starts to feel sick again. He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to get rid of the feeling of nausea.

“Taehyung…” you whisper his name, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You think having feelings for me means that’s it? That it’s the end? Baby, it would only be the beginning.” Taehyung leans down again as he caresses your face. “I know you’re scared. I know you have trauma that you’re still getting through. I know your ex fucked you up. But I’m not him. I’m Taehyung. I’m…fuck, I don’t know. y/n, please just open your heart to me.” Taehyung looks at you with so much compassion that it physically hurts.

“I know,” your voice shakes, “I know you aren’t him, Tae.” You take his hand in yours, “I do like you.” You finally admit, shutting your eyes.

“Look at me.” Taehyung commands, “Look at me babe.”

You slowly open your eyes again, gazing into his dark ones and you feel yourself grow warmer and warmer.

“I’m only looking at you.”

Taehyung quickly opens his eyes as he finds his resolve. You love him. He knows it. He feels it. You wanted him, just like how he wanted you—wants you.

He nods his head, trying to pump himself up, about to gain the courage to walk to you when the door jingles again and a man walks in. A man that immediately looks at you and smiles.

This man takes a seat across from you at the small table and Taehyung feels his heart halting in his chest. He feels himself grow warm, he feels himself grow the company of something evil, something green. He feels himself grow incredibly fucking jealous. So you do have someone. You moved on. You have someone, someone that is not him. Taehyung slowly plops back down in his chair, his mouth slightly open as he watches this man talk and smile at you.

But suddenly, Taehyung notices how tense you become. How you grip on to your purse harder and harder with every word this man speaks. He can sense you from here…something is wrong. Who is this man? Why is he making you so uncomfortable? Is this not a date? Taehyung isn’t sure what to do. He could be reading this all wrong, he could be imagining this for his own sake. He could be creating this world where you don’t love anyone but him.

But then you stand from your chair abruptly and storm out of the shop, this man desperately tries to grab for you and quickly follows after you. Taehyung stands from his chair as well, already racing towards the shops door, in search of you. He didn’t even think about it, he just acted on instinct.

“y/n!” the man calls out after you but you continue to speed walk away until you feel a hand grab at your arm. You are quick to turn around, ready to give him an earful when your face goes completely pale.

“T-Taehyung…?” you stutter out, the shock riding in waves throughout your entire body.

“I said wait baby!” The man jogs up to you and Taehyung, Taehyung releases his hold on your arm and looks between you and this man.

“Baby?” Taehyung whispers out, already feeling his heart crack inside his chest. Maybe this is just a lovers quarrel. He continues looking between you and this man and you can see the hurt plastered all over Taehyung’s face.

“No—”

“Who is this?” The man stands between you and Taehyung. “Who are you?”

“Ben, you can leave. I think I have heard enough.” You spit out and Taehyung’s eyes widen before they are narrowing at you.

“Ben…?” he asks, not even sparing Ben a glance, only focusing on you. “Why are you with him y/n?” Taehyung’s voice goes dangerously low. “I asked, why are you with him?”

“He was just—”

“I was just talking with my girl. Is that a problem?”

“Your girl?” You and Taehyung ask in unison.

“You’re fucking kidding, right y/n?” Taehyung’s face is taken over with a scowl. “There’s no fucking way you are seeing this asshole again.”

“It’s not—”

“Asshole?” Ben scoffs, “Who the fuck are you?”

Taehyung doesn’t even look Bens way as he eyes you, he stuffs his hands into his front pockets and stares at you with his hard expression.

“Answer me.” He commands. “Now.”

“Listen buddy—” Ben begins but Taehyung just a holds a hand up in front of Bens face and tilts his head at you.

“I said, now.” Taehyung finally lowers his hand, then he is feeling his body being shove backward.

“I said who the fuck are you?” Ben pushes Taehyung, his hands still on his chest at the collar of his shirt. “How do you know my girl? y/n…you been fucking other men?”

“I’m not your fucking girl Ben.” You finally snap out of your daze, “I said leave.”

Ben lets go of Taehyung shirt to face you, he walks closer and closer until his feet are practically touching your own.

“Sweetheart I said I was sorry…” Ben tries to caress your face but you smack his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You spit out, “Ever.”

Taehyung eyes the both of you with curiosity. What’s going on here? Are you with him or aren’t you? You notice Taehyung’s confused expression and move towards him to begin explaining.

“Ben is just here to explain why he did what he did…I don’t know why I agreed…but—”

“I’ve heard enough.” Taehyung stops you, he walks closer to you. “He’s bothering you?”

“I ain’t bothering anyone you fucking dick. And you never answered my question—who the fuck are—”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers and you watch the collision of Taehyung’s fist to Ben’s face. You swear you are witnessing it in slow motion, the way his fist crashes into the side of Bens jaw. The way Ben stumbles back and falls to the pavement. The way Taehyung grits his teeth as he brings his fist back to his own body. Did Taehyung just fucking punch your ex-boyfriend in the fucking face?

“She said to fucking leave.” Taehyung growls, “Now.”

“Taehyung!” you rush to his side, immediately reaching for his fist and inspecting it for any damage. You are hit with something massive…like the grandest bolt of electricity the moment your hand touches his. You try your hardest to ignore it, to ignore the fire that caught light, the raging fire that burns so wildly in your chest.

“Come. Come with me.” You say in panic, ignoring the fact that Ben lays on the concrete, probably knocked the fuck out. You hold on to Taehyung’s hand tightly as you lead him to the parking lot until you’re at your car. You hurry to let go of his hand, feeling so fucking nervous. What the hell is happening? Everything with Ben happened so fast that you haven’t even processed the fact that Taehyung is here. Here with you. In your city. In this parking lot. At your car.

“Tae—”

You stop before you can even finish his name. He looks at you with something you have never seen before. He goes to open his mouth but he stops himself, not knowing what the right thing to say is.

“I don’t know what to say anymore now that I am with you.” Taehyung finally says after a long while, his eyes are wet and his expression is troubled.

“I thought I would get here and I would tell you I am ready to make this work, that I missed you, that I love you. But now…seeing you. Really seeing you, I don’t know anymore.” He admits. “I think I am angry with you.” He says softly. “Really fucking angry.”

“Tae—”

“No.” he moves his head to the side, his eyes down at his shoes. “Let me speak. I have prepared a whole speech for you…but now, I don’t think I would mean any of the words.” He shuts his eyes, a tear escaping. “Did you go too far? Too far in hurting me?” he whispers. “Did you ruin me?”

You start breathing heavily, not knowing how to take his words. Why is he here?

“I had to fucking search for you. But did you even want to be found?” he questions you softly.

“Taehyung.” You say firmly. “I—”

“Am I a fool?” He chokes out, “A fool for doing this? Coming all the way here…sitting at this coffee place every single day waiting for you like the pathetic man that I am.” Another tear slips.

“Can I talk now?” you whisper. “Please?”

Taehyung gulps down his spit, anticipating what you might say. He gestures for you to speak and you take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out…” you begin, your chest getting tighter and tighter. “Every day that passed it got harder and harder to do it. If I’m being honest I stalked your account…” you admit with a bitter laugh, “You seemed happy. I wasn’t even sure you wanted me to reach out. Then Hana…”

“Hana?” Taehyung scrunches his brows together, “What’s Hana got to do with this?”

“You two are together aren’t you? I know, Taehyung.” You swallow hard.

Taehyung shakes his head in confusion, how do you know about Hana? You know he slept with her or?

“It was only one time.” Taehyung admits quietly…”but how do you know about that?”

“She posted you on her Instagram. I just assumed.” You say dryly, feeling a pang in your chest as you look at him. So he did get with her. You fucking knew it.

“Why are you here Taehyung?”

“I was here to tell you I love you. I want to make this work.” He says bluntly.

“Was?” you whisper and he nods.

“Now that I am here and I see you, I know I fucking love you still. But I think I’m lost and confused right now.” He admits between bated breaths. “I was so nervous to see you and to be honest looking at you now…I still feel nervous. Like, I could throw up.”

“I feel that way too.” You admit.

“You hurt me, y/n.” he steps closer to you, his gaze is dark and unwavering. “Can I forgive you?” he whispers and you choke back a sob. “Do you even love me back?...That’s also a main problem here.”

“I don’t know what to say.” You breathe out roughly, “I’m sorry for our last conversation on the island.”

“Are you?” he takes another step. “Are you really?”

“Yes, Tae…I …I…”

“You? You?” Another step.

“I was so scared, I was so confused.” You take a step back, but he continues walking towards you. “ But I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” he steps closer. “About that ‘maybe’ hmm?” he steps even closer until he is breathing the same zone of air as you. He reaches for your jaw with his hand and tilts your head up towards him. “I could have fucking told you that.”

“Taehyung…” you don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do. “I’m sorry. It just got so hard to talk to you but I have thought about you every second of every day.”

“Every second?” he scoffs, “Even as you were having coffee with fucking Ben?”

“It seriously isn’t what it looks like…” you rush to say, “He wouldn’t stop pestering me.”

“Tell me how you feel y/n. Right fucking now.” He roughly commands, his fingers still on your jaw.

“I—”

“I want everything, every detail. I want to know exactly what’s going on in this brain of yours.” Taehyung looks at you with hard eyes. “I want the truth.”

You scrunch your face up as you try not to cry, you feel so many overwhelming feelings all at once. You don’t know what to say. You love him. But is it that simple? “I…” You gulp.

“You?” his eyes soften just the slightest, “Just talk to me babe.” His voice loses all its edge as you begin to silently cry. His thumb wipes away your falling tears. “Just talk to me.”

“I miss you so fucking much.” Is the first thing that slips out of your mouth, “You have no idea…” you sob.

“If anyone has an idea, it’s me.” He chuckles bitterly.

“I let time pass me by Tae, I regret it so much. But as the seconds ticked by I knew I was losing my window of opportunity. And before I knew it 6 months had passed.” You choke, “I am so, so sorry.” You stare into his dark eyes. “The company did me a favor.” You laugh, “They gave me you. I fell in love with you, Taehyung. I just…I’m so sorry I doubted myself, doubted you.”

Taehyung’s features soften as he listens to you, he feels himself grow weak. Especially with his fingers touching your skin. He pulls back from you and leans against your car.

“Are you still in love with me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” You sniffle, wiping your face of your tears. “I think I always will be, even if you decide you hate me.”

“I wish I could hate you.” Taehyung throws his head back, “It would make this easier, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Make what easier?”

“Leaving you behind.” He says quietly, “Leaving us behind.”

Your body begins to shake as more tears escape you, you feel the heavy weight of his words fucking crush you. He wants nothing to do with you. He doesn’t want you anymore. You fucked up too badly. Taehyung watches as you sob for several minutes, his eyes never leaving your flushed face. He clicks his tongue and puts a hand on your shoulder and rubs it.

“That’s what I think I should do.” He says, “But I can’t.”

Wait, what?

“You c-can’t?”

“I love you too much. And I all my friends voted I bring you back to Korea.” He says with a small smirk.

“But you?” you cry, “You said you are leaving me?”

“I was thinking aloud. And to be honest I wanted you to suffer a bit.” He says with his dark gaze. “I wanted to punish you just a little.”

Your wide eyes narrow at him and you can’t help but cry harder. “You fucking sadist.”

“Maybe a little.” He admits with a growing sly smile. “We have a lot to talk about.” He says after a moment. “Do you want to make this work with me or not?”

“Are you serious? Even after all of this you still want to be with me?”

“We’re soulmates, baby. Or did you forget?”

“You fucking smartass.” You wipe at your face, wiping your snots on the collar of your t shirt. “But yes…I want to make this work.”

“Spend a couple weeks with me in Korea. I want to start over with you. Take things slow. I am still angry. But I fucking love you.”

“A couple weeks in Korea?” you shake your head, “I can’t take off work that long.”

“I am not going to beg you.” Taehyung warns, “But please.”

A couple weeks in Korea? With Taehyung? Meeting his family? His friends? Starting over? Going slow? Can you two really do this?

[vroomvroomkachowboi]

Driver’s License pt.2

fluff, angst, smut: angst

pairing: draco malfoy x reader(fem)

word count: 1k (1073)

summary: draco and y/n dealing with their breakup

warning: cheating, cursing

a/n: I've had quite a few people ask for a part 2. so here it is! so happy that people really enjoyed this. Hope this is good. I’ve been in a spiraling depression recently, so I'm sorry that I'm not as active. But I worked hard, so, and there’s a cute ending.

part 1

It’s been a month since Y/n had discovered Draco was cheating on her. Draco has tried everything and anything to get her to speak to him again. Multiple letters, many bouquet of flowers, sending chocolates and candy, sending her jewelry, and he even resorted to a singing dwarf. (how Harry gotten one from Ginny)

It was so embarrassing.

It seems that Draco had ended things with Astoria to try to get Y/n back. It started to spread across the Slytherins, but now all Hogwarts students knew about it. She wouldn't be surprised if the professors knew about it as well, even Dumbledore.

Everyone had been coming up to her for weeks, saying things like, “Take him back!” or “Don't give him the time of day!” It was beginning to overwhelm her.

“Hello, my love. How was your day so far?” Draco greeted as Y/n walked into Charms class and sat in her seat. “Fine.” She mumbled, hoping he’d get the message, but he would not give up. “That’s good. Do you have the homework for Defense Against the Dark Arts? I had stayed up doing Charms.” She shook her head. He was going to speak again, when Flitwick came in, telling everyone to sit down and listen up. Thank Merlin.

Draco sat a few seats away from Y/n. All he wanted was for her to take him back. Oh, how he missed his first love. He was determined to get her back, to show her that she can trust him again, and how much he loved her. Astoria was nothing compared to her. He was aware that everyone knew of the situation, he had gotten backlash from his fellow classmates, but that didn’t stop the gestures.

Everyday, Draco would try to start a conversation with Y/n. She was beginning to find this all very annoying. She wanted to get over him but, how could she when he's spoiling her with everything she wished he had gave her during that very lonely month of ignoring her. He was the man she loved for so long, it was hard to give up.

She still remembers the day that Draco asked her out. He was visibly nervous, he shook and stuttered. He rarely talked to her before, but some how gathered up the courage to ask.

3rd year Y/n walked into the Great Hall, when she felt someone grab her arm. “Excuse me, Y/n?” Draco said. At the time, they were about the same height, so she looked directly into his eyes. “Yes?” She replied. He was so lost in her eyes that, he realized that he was still holding her arm. He nervously dropped it and kept his hands to his sides.  “I was wondering if you had the notes for Transfiguration? Could I borrow them please?” She nodded. “Of course. I could give them to you after dinner.” She smiled. Draco blushed deeply, looking at her happy face.

She was about to turn around, but Draco grabbed her arm once again. “Y/n, wait!” She turned around to face him again. He gulped, feeling his heart racing. He let go of her arm again, his left by his side, and the right grabbed the back of his neck. “I was wondering if you’d like to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow? With me?” He stuttered. “I’d love that, Draco.”

As the day went on, she tried her best to ignore Draco. During classes, and dinner, he was constantly breathing down her neck. All the Slytherins went to the common room to get some work done. Y/n sat by the windows, working on some Transfiguration work. It was almost like the hairs on her arm stood up, feeling and knowing the presence of the person behind her.

“What you doing, Y/n?” Draco had asked. “Some transfiguration work, Draco.” She replied, without looking at him. “Well, let me know if you need my help.” He says, and grabs her non-dominant hand and kissed it.

“Draco. Please. We are not dating anymore, please don't do things like that.” She says calmly, but a bit quietly. Draco’s brows furrowed. “I just want to show you that I love you.” She sighed heavily, getting up and grabbing Draco’s arm, and leaving the common room. Y/n found an isolated spot for them to talk alone.

“Draco, please. You’ve been all up on me for a whole month. We’re not together. Just leave me be.” She exclaimed. Draco’s face softened. “I just want to make it up to you. I want you to forgive me.”

“I can’t forgive you, Draco! Don't you get that?!” She exclaimed even louder, finally letting some anger out, “You cheated on me! I love you so much and YOU cheated on ME.” Y/n’s tears stained her face, but she kept going. “We’ve been dating since the 3rd year, I met your parents, I loved you unconditionally, and this is how you repay me!”

“You ignored me for so long, and now that I need you to do that again, you won’t! I can't move on if you won’t leave me alone!” She sobbed. Draco looked guilty and uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. There’s no real reason why I cheated on you. I love you too, I just want you to realize it and forgive me.”

“I can't get back with you, Draco. I can't trust you anymore.” Draco’s eyes watered with that last sentence. “I never want you out of my life, Y/n. You’re too important to me. Please.” He begged.

Y/n grabbed his face and pulled him down. He had gotten so much taller since they started dating. She kissed his cheek, and pulled him into a hug. He hugged her back with no hesitation.

They stood in the halls, hugging each other, feeling each other’s warmth that they both missed so much. “I can’t forgive you, Draco. You know that.”

“I know.”

They both let go of each other, only holding on by their hands. “But I can forget. I think it’s best if we heal alone, and we can be friends.”

Draco smiled sadly. “Okay.”

As the new school year came. Y/n and Draco had finally healed, and became best  friends. They were still as close as they were before, they studied together, they'd have lunch together, they’d have sleepovers. And, they’d also go to Hogsmeade together, like their first date. They also laugh and reminisce, remembering how nervous and young they were, reminiscing their young, unconditional love.

[soramei]

Intentional - Part 1

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn 

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut,

Word Count: 7.3k 

Masterlist

A/N: hey yall this is my first ff im posting on tumblr :D im kinda scared to post but i hope anybody who stumbles on lil ol’ me will join me along the way :) also important!!! i made oc/reader asian cus i am lol (and this whole thing is basically a glorified self insert) so plz keep this in mind when reading!! oh god i didnt realize how slow this first part was sry... 

The cold silence of the room felt like stabs at your inside. You commanded your feet to stop bouncing up and down as you unconsciously started to bite off the dead skin of your bottom lip. The white corporate light from above reflected off your brand new lanyard hanging delicately from your neck. You felt the coarse blue fabric rub against your neck as you mindlessly fiddled with your lanyard; the newly printed photo of your face stared back at you with a smile. 

The creak of the door to your left was what broke you from your nervous fidgets. Whipping your head up from your lanyard, you immediately stood up ready to bow to whoever came through that door. 

It was a girl. She looked around the same age as you, if not older. Her attire was what gave her away. Her appearance essentially mirrored yours: hair tied back into a ponytail with a white blouse and black work pants. She also had the familiar blue ‘JYPE’ labeled strap hanging from her neck. 

“Hello,” you spoke meekly, scared to disturb the cold silence that had a hold on the room you were in. 

“Hello,” she replied. “My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern and today is my first day.”

This is so relieving, you thought, another newbie to share the stress with me. 

“This is my first day too,” you perked up, “I’ll be starting as the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.” 

Getting the acceptance email from JYP Entertainment was definitely a high point in your life. The feeling of butterflies swarming your insides as you clicked the email open only to see your acceptance was immediately locked as a core memory. All the years of memorizing thousands of Korean and English vocabulary flashcards, the panic attacks before your finance exams, and the many, many late night coffee breaks were worth it the moment you received your first legitimate job offer, and from the esteemed JYP Entertainment company no less. 

“Chinese marketing?” Na-eun asked. “So you aren’t from here, I take it.” 

You shook your head. “I am from China. I completed my degree a while ago with a major in Language and a minor in Business. To be honest, I’ve done internships back home, but it’s been my dream to move to a new country.”

All of what you said was true. Up until now, your surroundings have never changed in all of your twenty-three years living. From the walk with your grandmother to daycare to the vast campus of your university, the view of your city has never changed. Your social circle stayed stagnant since you were able to talk and your love life was — for a lack of a better word — uneventful. 

It wasn’t until the day you decided to start applying for careers outside your home country that you felt hopeful. Hopeful that you could find an escape from your inert lifestyle and escape the burnout and stress that has been building up over the years. And so, on a day when you were feeling unusually confident, you gathered up the courage and spent hours sending out applications to organizations all over Asia that pertained to your specific degree. The applications were mainly for small jobs at small companies, however, your strange spike of motivation gave you the confidence to apply to the everso esteemed JYP Entertainment located in Korea. Of course you knew about this company — you and your friends played songs by ‘Twice’ nonstop back in highschool — but you didn’t realize the full power that this company had on the entertainment market until you did your full research. To say that you thought you had no chance was an understatement. This application was so far of a reach that you purposefully forced your mind to erase all memory of even applying. 

However, with your education, your work experience, and whatever tiny bit of luck you had, you somehow made it through the initial application process. Then the next. And the next. Then the interview. And now, you were nervously sitting in this white painted room with Na-eun, in a completely new country, waiting for your manager to come greet you. 

“So you’re from China? You’ve got to teach me chinese sometime.” Na-eun smiled. 

You giggled in return while nodding your head. You were relieved that you’ve met a potential friend so early in your career in this company. This was one of your big worries. With your social circle being so stagnant for the majority of your life back in China, you rarely had the opportunity to meet new people, much less make new friends. 

You were about to inquire more into Na-eun’s life when the door to your left abruptly opened. In the blink of an eye, three new people strutted in — two women and one man. They seemed to be higher status than you and Na-eun judging by their attire. All three were styled in some type of blazer and dress pants and there was no lanyard to be found on any of them. 

“Hello new employees,” the man greeted. Judging by his face, he looked to be in his late thirties at the least. His hair was styled back neatly and his lips slanted up, giving him a fox-like appearance. “I am Executive Manager Kim. Joined beside me on the left is Social Media Manager An and to my right is Marketing Manager Chen.” 

Both you and Na-eun immediately stood up to bow and introduce yourselves. 

“Hello. My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern.” Na-eun said. 

“Hello. My name is y/n, I’m the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.” You repeated after her, copying exactly what she said. You did not want to screw anything up on your first day, especially your first impression. 

Manager Kim reached over to Na-eun, introducing himself and giving her a firm handshake. He then slowly moved over to you, and reached for your hand. 

“Y/n,” he gave time for your name to settle on his tongue as he gave a sly smile. “You’re not from here, aren't you?”

You shook your head ‘no’. “No, sir. I’m from China where I studied language and business. I hope to do well here as the Chinese marketing assistant.” You replied, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so timid. 

“I’m glad to hear,” Manager Kim chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll treat me and your other managers well.”

You felt an uncomfortable shiver pass through you as he brushed his thumb along your hand before letting go. This feeling was excused as nervousness, after all, this was your first day and your first time meeting your higher-ups. 

You introduced yourself to Manager Chen, assuming that she would be the one you were to assist in your time here at JYPE. Judging by her last name, you presumed that she was Chinese as well. 

“Forgive me for being so straight up Manager Chen, but are you Chinese?” You asked. 

“That is alright, y/n,” she smiled, “I’m not. My Husband is, but I’ve lived in China for more than half my life. I don’t want to brag, but my mandarin has gotten proficient over the past decade or so.”

Proficient? It’s amazing. You thought. This first day was turning out better than you thought. Other than the weird feeling you received from Manager Kim, everything was turning out splendid. A potential friend and a manager that could speak your first language.

“Since it’s about noon right now,” Manager Kim took a look at his watch, “What do you all think about some lunch?” 

The other managers nod their heads in agreement and gestures for you and Na-eun to follow them out of the waiting room you were in for so long. 

The whole building seemed so clean. With every corner lit, by natural light or artificial light, you could clearly see that every room, every piece of furniture and decor had been purposefully placed. You couldn’t help but have a stupid look of awe plastered on your face as you mindlessly follow your superiors over to the cafeteria.  

You turned your head over to Na-eun and gave her a tilt of the eyebrow, silently saying wow, this is where we work. 

With the turn of a corner and several silent strides, your little group made it to the cafeteria. 

The difference between your claustrophobic waiting room and this vast room was astonishing. With countless tables and romantic yellow lighting, this place almost resembled a five star restaurant. You’ve never seen a cafeteria as extravagant and clean as this before. However, to be fair, you’ve never had the experience of working with such a large corporation before. 

The managers led you to the serving station where you grabbed yourself a tray and proceeded to spoon small portions of rice and side dishes onto your plate. This cuisine was different to what you were used to, but nonetheless looked delicious. You were prepared for the small cultural differences, especially with the food, but from everything you’ve witnessed so far, the culture shock would be easier to overcome than what you’ve anticipated. 

“Have this soup y/n,” Manager Kim’s grating voice came from in front of you, interrupting your inner monologue. “It’s good for your complexion.” 

As Manager Kim hands over the bowl of soup, you feel the sleeve of his blazer brush up against your shoulder, causing the pit of your stomach to drop.

First day nerves. That was what this feeling was. You thought. 

You quietly thanked him with a small nod and walked briskly from the service line, trying to find where Na-eun went with the other two managers. Thankfully, they were just a step away and you quickly made your way over to the comfortable spot beside Na-eun. She gave you a small grin and you both followed your way to a table right in the middle of the room. 

Soon, all five chairs of the table got filled and sounds of chopsticks tapping and scraping against plates and bowls filled your ears. An awkward silence dominates your table as you start to pick at your food. 

“So,” Manager Chen cleared her throat, “after lunch I was thinking we should go to a meeting room and discuss Miss. Y/n’s role in our new project.”

“I was thinking the same for our new Intern Choi.” Manager An cut in, “What do you think, Manager Kim?” 

“It all sounds good. I will be accompanying Manager Chen to her meeting room as I wish to also further discuss the preliminary steps for our project.” Manager Kim looked from Manager Chen over to you. 

“Project?” You ask. 

“We’ve had a very successful year with our idol groups and we wanted to ride this success and start marketing in China. Recently, we’ve noticed a very large and growing Chinese audience for this group. I’m sure you’re very curious now, however we can discuss further details once we are in the meeting room.” Manager Chen replies while taking a sip of the water in her glass. 

Manager Chen appeared to be a very professional and respectable woman. With prominent collarbones and wide shoulders, she easily looked the part of a confident and adored manager. She needed minimal makeup to highlight her tall cheekbones, and even with a short heel on her feet she seemed to tower over you. However, her warm and comforting voice was what broke her intimidating demeanour. Just listening to her voice felt like you were back in your high school classroom with your favourite teacher explaining the motif of a sad love poem. 

After some more awkward conversations mixed with a few work discussions, the five of you finished the delicious food on your trays. 

“Please excuse me whilst I head to the restroom” Na-eun spoke up after your group finished clearing the table. 

“Please excuse me as well.” You quickly followed, bowing as you both ventured off to the washrooms. 

I should get her number so I’m not completely a loner in this place, you thought to yourself. And so, after a quick inner struggle to speak up, you finally decided to ask. 

“Hey, should we exchange contacts? I don’t wanna look like the newbie eating in the cafeteria alone after today.” You chuckled. 

“Totally!” Na-eun beamed. “I was actually thinking the same thing…” 

And so, you both quickly exchanged each other's contact as you made your way to the restrooms. 

The hall of the washrooms were narrow, hidden away from the main cafeteria. You walked in, deciding you only wanted to retouch your hair and makeup before your first official meeting. You carefully fix the loose hairs that somehow escaped the confines of your elastic and dab on a fresh layer of foundation before applying your lipstick which rubbed off while eating. Looking over at Na-eun, you see she’s quite in the zone redoing her mascara. 

“Hey, I’ll just wait for you in the hall.” You said. 

Na-eun gave you a disinterested nod back as she kept focusing on her mascara. 

You walked to the end of the hall, leaned against the wall, and pulled out your phone. Smiling, you opened the virtual Tamagotchi app and saw your little friend staring back at you, bouncing up and down. The bundle of virtual pixels happily bounced as you fed and bathed it, making you happier in return. Playing this game, you were so entranced with your phone that the abrupt closing of the washroom doors broke you out of your hypnosis fast, causing you to flinch and drop your phone. 

You looked up, only to see a brown haired man wearing a long sleeved black shirt. The hem of his sleeve fell, covering his hand as he bent down to pick up your phone. He stood back up, fully facing you now and you immediately recognized who he was. You weren’t a fool, of course you did all your research on the artists of JYPE before applying for the job. Looking down at you right now, holding your phone in his hand, was Bang Chan of Stray Kids. 

The wispy tufts of his brown hair bounced over his forehead as he stepped over to you. He smiled, his dimple poking out of his cheek, and handed your phone back to you. “I think you dropped this.”  

Blushing tomato red, you embarrassingly accepted the phone, trying not to make your shaking hands noticeable. It seemed like that failed, however, as you noticed him glance at your hands and dimple grow deeper. 

“Thank you.” You meekly chirped and lowered your head, still in awe that you somehow bumped into a JYPE idol in the bathroom hallway of a cafeteria. 

“It’s good that there’s no cracks.” Bang Chan said, looking in your eyes. 

You looked back into his eyes. His smile never left his face, and you physically felt the warmth radiating off his body like rays from the sun. Some boring, objective part of your brain knew this interaction only lasted a fraction of a second, but you swore that time froze.

“Hyung!” A distant voice called. 

Your trance was broken as Bang Chan looked over to the person calling his name. He turned back to you, politely bowed, and casually sauntered over to the man who called him. 

What just happened? Your inner monologue ran, still trying to process the embarrassing interaction. The scent of his cologne lingered, swirling the atmosphere around your body. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have too much time to dwell on this interaction as Na-eun finally opened the washroom doors and was making her way toward you. 

You and Na-eun trailed behind the managers until you reached the set of elevators. It was there where you had to unfortunately separate from your comfort work buddy as she hopped in the elevator across from yours with Manager An. The other two managers led you to the elevator at the end and pressed the button for your destination floor. The ride in the elevator was silent. You stood there, fiddling with your nails. 

Once the elevator gave the ding of arrival, the three of you headed down a hall where you presumed had the meeting room. 

Manager Kim took a look at the watch on his wrist. “We are a minute late, everybody should be there already. Enter silently and respectfully.” He said in a stern voice.

You reached the frosted glass door of the meeting room and entered through the already opened door. The managers followed behind you with Manager Chen being the last one in and closing the door. 

Your eyes widened at whom you saw.

There was Bang Chan, who sat in all his glory, staring right into your eyes with his mouth ajar. His shocked expression didn't last long, however, as he quickly composed himself to fit with the professional atmosphere of this room. 

But why was he here? You thought. He’s an artist, isn’t this a management meeting? 

Your inner monologue was broken by Manager Kim’s stern voice. “Y/n, why don’t you sit with me for today?” He asked with a slight tilt of the lips. His hand was hovering above your back, almost guiding you to the seat just right of the head chair. 

Your heart rate quickened. There was no way that you could handle sitting right beside a high position manager on your first day. You barely knew what your duties entailed, you definitely could not handle the pressure of this seat today. You whipped your head around to look for Manager Chen. She was already sitting in her seat, looking like she was right at home. 

“Manager Kim, if you don’t mind, I would like to sit in this position for today, '' a voice spoke up, “I have a lot of new ideas I’d like to share that are written in my notes.” 

Bang Chan.

He paused a brief second, eyes switching between you and Manager Kim, and raised his iPad to show the screen filled with words. 

“I don’t mind at all, go ahead.” Manager Kim monotonously replied. He then made his way to the head chair. 

You looked over at Bang Chan, trying to subtly send the most grateful facial expression over to him. He returned your look, slightly grinning as his fingers tapped on the screen of his iPad and sat down to the right of Manager Kim. You looked over to see Manager Chen gesturing you to sit in the chair beside her and swiftly made your way over. At your seat, she handed you a notepad and pen, both adorned with the JYPE logo. 

“Now, as of 1:02 p.m., September first, the meeting will officially begin.” Manager Kim clasped his hands together on top of the table. “As most of you already know, we are in the preliminary stages of planning a Chinese debut for our artist group ‘Stray Kids’. All we have right now is the estimated timeline, which is four months. We have a basic grasp of the concept we are working towards, however, as you all know, trends are always changing and growing. While we are working to create a new and original concept for Stray Kids, we also want the concept to gather as much audience reception as possible.” 

Wow. That was a lot to take in. Your hands struggled to keep up with writing down what Manager Kim was saying. You knew this relatively new group was really starting to explode in the past year, but a debut in another country? This group must work really hard to even have the company consider a step as risky as this. So this is why Bang Chan is also involved in this meeting. 

You peaked your head up from your notepad. Bang Chan sat across from you, one hand on his chin and the other one holding the pen to his tablet. 

Manager Kim then carefully discussed the duties that each group in the room would take. Many of the jobs were directly involved with developing the concept itself, such as producing music, concept art, and theme development. Your pen never took a break from gliding on the notepad as you hurriedly jotted down everything that Manager Kim said. 

Eventually, Manager Kim’s delegations moved to Manager Chen. “Manager Chen, I’ll let you take over from here.” 

“Thank you Manager Kim,” Manager Chen cleared her throat. “While my main job here was to market Korean comebacks towards the Chinese audience, this new project changes things up a bit. Now, not only will I be in charge of marketing to the Chinese audience, but I will also be directly in charge of the concept itself. I will be working carefully with our team in China to monitor the trends which we can incorporate into our debut.

“This is my new assistant, y/n,” She turned and gestured to you. You politely nodded your head. “She will be gathering information on useful trends and reporting back to me, as well as some translating. Please report any ideas that you deem useful to her by the end of every week for her to sort through and deliver to me.” 

You almost want to call Manager Chen crazy for giving you so much power, after all, you were only starting out as her assistant. Despite this, however, you were determined to go above and beyond with the new responsibilities given to you, after all, you knew that choosing to work in an organization as big as JYPE would take blood, sweat, and tears. 

After some clarifications given by Manager Chen and a few more questions directed at her, Manager Kim took the reins back in his hands. 

“Now, as I’m sure you all know, this is Bang Chan: the leader of Stray Kids. Although our management team is in charge of this debut, we like to include the opinions of artists whenever possible. He will make an appearance whenever he can and act as a representative of Stray Kids, sharing their ideas and opinions.” Manager Kim explained. 

Bang Chan politely introduced himself, and quickly went on to express some concerns of his members. He made sure that each concern was answered thoroughly by Manager Kim before moving on to the next. 

“As for our concept ideas,” Bang Chan’s soft brown eyes met yours, “will I have to report to y/n?” 

You felt your ears redden. 

“You could, yes,” Manager Kim straightened his back, “but if you find the weekly deadlines too much of a problem, you may just report to me or at any subsequent meeting.” 

“No worries sir,” Bang Chan’s eyes lingered on yours for a fraction of a second more before grinning at Manager Kim, “I’m always punctual.”  

The rest of the meeting consisted of more introductions and preliminary plans. After about an hour, everybody seemed satisfied with the contents of the meeting and were starting to pack up all their clutter on the table. You looked over at Manager Chen, silently asking what should I do next? 

Manager Chen smiled. “Let's head to my floor. I can give you a quick tour, you can get settled at your desk. I have some paperwork that I’m almost done with; I’m sure you’ll have no problem finishing it for me.” She already was standing up and straightening over the creases of her jacket. 

You stood up as well and followed behind Manager Chen like a lost baby duckling. You both made your way over to Manager Kim to bid farewell. You politely thanked him, said your goodbyes, and were about to leave when he stopped the two of you. 

“Manager Chen, let’s go out for drinks tonight.” Manager Kim took a look at the intricate watch on his wrist. “With our whole team, of course. It’ll be a welcoming night and we can get to know the people on our team better.” 

“That’s a great idea, Manager Kim,” Manager Chen nodded at his idea in approval. She turned on her iPad to quickly get a glimpse at her schedule. “What do you think y/n? Can you make it tonight? I know this is very last moment, but I think it’ll be a great opportunity for you to get to know your coworkers better.” 

“I should be able to make it.” You definitely could make it. You had no plans anyways. 

“Am I invited to this top secret party you’re all having?” A now very distinguishable voice came from behind you. Bang Chan stared at Manager Kim with a very mischievous expression. 

“Would your manager allow it?” Manager Kim questioned, knitting his eyebrows. 

“I’m on a diet, so I can’t drink alcohol or eat anything,” Bang Chan’s nose scrunched up in annoyance, “but I want to be as involved as I can. Just because I’m an idol doesn’t mean I can’t help behind the scenes as well.”

“Very well,” Manager Kim nodded with a fixed expression, “Let’s all meet at that restaurant about a block away west. I’ll go tell the others.” And with that, Manager Kim left you, Manager Chen, and Bang Chan to stand in awkward silence. 

“Well,” Bang Chan cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, “I’ll get going as well to do some work now, but it was nice meeting the both of you.” 

“You as well.” Manager Chen replied for the both of you and Bang Chan left soon after. 

Manager Chen then led you to the elevators again and you headed up yet another few floors to reach your destination. You nervously fiddled with your hair as you silently waited behind your boss, looking up at the smooth lines of her blazer every few seconds. The elevator doors dinged, letting you know of its arrival. The two of you swiftly headed out the elevators and walked to what you presumed was Manager Chen’s office area. You kept following behind Manager Chen in silence before you stopped in front of a set of doors that looked identical to the ones at the previous meeting room. Manager Chen opened the doors for you, and you headed in. 

You paused a step in, looking wide-eyed at the interior. The office was clean. A big glass desk sat right in the middle of the vast room in front of a huge set of windows. There were a couple of soft looking chairs placed right before the desk with a huge rug right underneath it. Over to your left, you spotted a water dispenser with a kettle right beside it. You stared at the room a bit longer before realizing you must have looked very stupid with that astonished look on your face. 

“Is this your office, Manager Chen?” You asked. 

“Yes. It seems that you like it,” She chuckled. You felt the heat rise to your ears. 

“Since you’ll be working so close to me, I’m sure you’ll be happy to come here more often.” 

“Thanks.” You awkwardly laughed. You blamed your bad response on the fact that you still weren’t familiar with the language, not your blatant awkwardness. 

Manager Chen made her way over to her desk, picking up a small stack of papers. “These are some letters I’ve received from several designer companies in China. Since we are still in the very preliminary stages of this project, we would like to keep our options open for the stylists here.” She picks an annotated letter from the pile. “I’ve translated and created a summary of the main points of this letter. There are a few more left which I believe I can trust you with. Just do as I did with this letter and add the sample pictures along with it.”

You quickly complied, taking the stack of papers from her hands. 

“I’ll show you to your new work space.” She led you out of your office and over to a cubicle that wasn’t too far away. It was considerably smaller compared to Manager Chen’s office, but you thought it had a certain coziness to it. Plus, working close to your coworkers could also boost your motivation. “Here is your desk, it’s not the most exciting thing, but you may bring photos or whatnot to decorate it. Now, I’ll let you settle in and get started on your work. You can meet me at my office around six, I can double check your work before we leave.” 

You thanked her before she left and immediately got started on your work. You diligently translated the whole of the letters before picking out the main points that matched with Manager Chen’s example. After this was done, you included the photos that came with each letter and slipped them into their own cozy folder. This work was monotonous, sure, but it was something you needed on your hectic first day here. 

You were so captivated by your work that you completely forgot about the time. The sun was starting to set, and you only remembered to look at the time after you tucked your last letter neatly in its folder. You briefly panicked, praying that you weren’t making your manager wait. Thankfully, it was only a quarter until six. You took the next fifteen minutes double checking your work, making sure to also check the time every once in a while. At exactly six, you left your desk and scurried over to the big doors of Manager Chen’s office. 

Knocking a couple times, you waited patiently to be let in. 

“Come in.” 

You let yourself in, handing the papers to your manager, then sat quietly in one of the chairs before her desk, crossing your fingers together. You fiddled with your thumbs, patiently waiting for Manager Chen to speak up. 

“Not bad, this is some decent work.” Manager Chen announced as soon as she finished glossing over your work. “I’ve noted some places that you can either fix or improve. I’ll scan them and hand you a copy tomorrow.” 

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. A tidal wave of relief washed over you as you let yourself relax further into your chain. Not bad, this is some decent work. You proudly repeated this moment in your brain. Although you were disappointed with the mistakes that you let slip through, to get somewhat of a compliment on your first day meant a lot to you. 

“Shall we get going now?” Manager Chen asked. 

You grabbed your bag and stood up. “I’ll let you lead the way.” 

                                                         _______

It seemed like all you were doing on your first day was following Manager Chen around like a lost puppy. The situation right now was no exception either, as you tried to copy her confident strides over to the restaurant a block down. You watched the busy rush hour streets and sidewalks fill with people, some people going home after a long day, some people going to party just like you.

Soon, after a few more minutes of walking, the both of you arrived at the small wooden doors of the restaurants. It seemed like the both of you were a bit late as Manager Kim was already waiting in front of the entrance with the rest of the team. Bang Chan was also there, head down looking at his phone. 

“Sorry we’re late, have you been waiting for long?” Manager Chen somehow sounded confident despite making everybody wait on her.

Her voice seemed to have caught everybody’s attention. You watched as Bang Chan swiftly turned his head up from his phone, his eyes making contact with yours. You immediately focused your eyes somewhere else, trying to casually play off the fact that your eyes subconsciously drifted to him. 

“We’ve only been waiting for a couple minutes.” Manager Kim gave a tight smile. “Let’s go in before you all get too cold.” 

Your little group of around ten people slowly entered the doors, filling the restaurant. Manager Kim called over a waitress, signaling that you had ten people in your group, and let the waitress lead you all to a long wooden table. 

The restaurant was nice, nothing too fancy, but that’s how you could tell the food was good. With dim lighting and tightly packed tables, it made you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside. 

However, your thoughts on the restaurant were soon broken by a hand on your shoulder. 

“Y/n, why don’t you sit with me?” Manager Kim’s lips curled up, “After all, this is a work gathering, how good of a boss would I be if I didn’t even treat my newest team member to a drink?” 

Your brain was in shambles. You seriously didn’t feel comfortable sitting with him all night. However, the logical side of your brain was saying something different. He’s just being nice as a boss. You don’t know how people in this country act anyways, stop being paranoid. 

It seemed like your inner turmoil was taking longer than necessary, as you heard another familiar voice speak up. 

“Manager Kim-” Bang Chan called out. 

“You don’t need to sit with me here, Bang Chan.” Manager Kim chuckled as he stared directly in Bang Chan’s eyes. “I’d rather not talk about work outside the office.”

You watched as Bang Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, looking back to you in reluctance. You smiled at him before turning your attention to Manager Kim. It was just one night, right? Plus, there’s no harm in establishing a good impression with your boss. 

“I’ll sit with you, Manager Kim.” You smiled, “thanks for offering.”

And so, you took your seat next to Manager Kim at the table. Bang Chan, who was to your left, looked askance at Manager Kim for a brief second before his facial expression did a complete 180. His familiar, boy-ish smile was plastered on his face like it was the most natural thing. 

When the menus came, everybody at the table — including you — started to order onslaughts of food and alcohol. After brief moments of casual chatter about topics such as the weather or how good the food was here, everything that was ordered arrived at your table.

You grabbed a can of beer and started sipping on it. You’ve drank before — of course — with your old friends at university, but it’s been at least a year since you last did. Better ease myself in. You thought. 

However, your preconceived plans were ruined when a small glass of clear liquor got pushed in front of you. 

“Y/n, surely you aren’t going to sip on that can all night.” The ends of Manager Kim’s lips curled up. 

“Wasn’t planning to, sir.” You replied while tipping the glass up and into your mouth. The bitter liquid burned your throat as it went down. You took a moment to recollect your surroundings. Seems like your tolerance was higher than you thought. 

“Bang Chan, do you not drink? Why not eat something then?” Manager Chen pointed to the food on the table. 

“No can do ma’am, I’m on a strict diet. My manager would kill me.” Bang Chan pointed to his glass of water. 

“In that case,” Manager Chen filled another glass, “Y/n, have another drink.” She slid the glass down the table in front of you. 

You gladly accepted your second drink, downing the alcohol in one go. Your eyes instinctively squeezed together as you felt your throat burn. From the tips of your ears to the ends of your toes, your whole body felt warm and alive. 

You lost track of the time. As your conversations got livelier, your head got fuzzier. You stopped counting your drinks after four, especially since so many people were eager to offer the new employee a drink. Although your vision was starting to blur, you could still think straight. I can still think, you thought to yourself, still — what a powerful buzz.

Your thoughts ran rampant in your mind as you stared at the lightbulb across the room. What a pretty light. So bright. Warm. 

“Y/n.”

Was the light calling your name? 

“Y/n!” 

Your eyes focused again and snapped away from the lightbulb. Where was the voice coming from? You slowly turned your head. Bang Chan.

“Hi.” You smiled. 

“Hi.” He smiled back. So bright. Warm. “It’s been hours and I haven’t even offered you a drink yet.” 

You tried to focus your eyes on his face as he slid the glass over to you. One more drink wouldn’t hurt your buzz, right?  

You gladly accepted, slowly moving your hand over to the glass to pick the clear liquid up. It went down in one go just like all the others. 

Huh? Was this water? 

You struggled to focus your eyes on the person who offered you the drink. “That was yummy.” 

“I bet it was,” the talking blur chuckled, “How about another one?”

You nodded, then took the glass he slid towards you. It’s funny how water flows even when in a cup. Water. You needed to pee. 

“Hey,” your words dragged out, “where’s uh, where’s the washroom?”

“Follow me. I’ll show you.” Manager Kim stood up and reached his hand out towards you. You didn’t want to take it, but it seemed like nobody was noticing his offer. 

Reluctantly, you took his hand and stood up, only to stumble down again. Did your knees not want to listen? 

“Whoa there, better hold on.” Manager Kim said. 

“No, I can walk. I-I can walk.” You let go of Manager Kim and tried to focus all your brainpower on moving your feet in a straight line. This tactic only worked for a second, however, as your knees gave in and you stumbled down. 

“It’s obvious that you can’t.” Manager Kim’s lips turned up. “It’s time for you to go home. I’ll take you back.” 

What? No. You didn’t want Manager Kim to take you home, not after all the awkward events of today and the general vibe from him. You tried to express your thoughts, but nothing came out of your mouth. 

“Manager Kim, you’ve been drinking!” Bang Chan’s voice came from some part of the room. “It’s not safe to drive, I’ll call a taxi for you.” 

“What about Y/n here? I’ll get a taxi for us both.” Manager Kim said. 

“I called my manager earlier to pick me up, we can drop her off along the way. It’s not a good idea to put two drunk people in a car. I’m completely sober right now, so let me do all the work.” Bang Chan grinned, patting Manager Kim on his shoulder. 

“Is that what you want, Y/n?” Manager Kim glared. 

You dizzily nodded. 

“Alright. In that case, I can call my own taxi later.” Manager Kim grimaced. 

“Stay safe, Manager Kim.” Bang Chan smiled. He turned to you. “My manager’s been waiting outside for a while now, do you want to leave now?” 

You nodded. You tried to start walking again, but your damn knees just wouldn’t listen. 

“Do you want to hold on to me?” Bang Chan knitted his brows together and held out an arm.

“I,” you slurred, “can walk.” You tried to start your feet again, only to end up stumbling down. 

“I know you can,” Bang Chan said as he reached his hands out to stabilize you, “but — ah —  I’m really tired after today. Can you hold on to my arm so I won’t fall out of exhaustion?” 

You agreed to help him. Bang Chan waved to everybody still at the table before leading the two of you out to a black SUV. He allowed you to stumble your way in the back seats first before sliding in himself. He asked you for your address, which took many tries for you to accurately type it into his phone. 

You leaned your head against the window, staring at passing blurred lights as Bang Chan’s manager started driving. Just being away from the loud and bright environment seemed to have cleared your head a little, but the pounding would not stop. You cursed yourself for being so irresponsible on your first day, especially because you were still alone in this new country.   

“Hey,” you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder, “want some water?” You looked over to see Bang Chan holding out a plastic bottle with the lid screwed off. 

You languidly reached your hand out for the bottle and gulped down as much water as you could in one breath before handing it back to him. The street lights started getting blurrier as you tried to fight exhaustion, the muscles in your eyelids starting to get more and more uncontrollable. 

“Y/n.” 

“Hmm?”

“Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re almost there. Ten more minutes.” 

You couldn’t hear anything after that, however, as you felt your eyes give up on you and your body fall into a deep sleep. 

“Y/n… Y/n.” A familiar voice called.

You fluttered your eyes open, your head pounding. Not knowing where you were, you surveyed your surroundings in a panic. It seemed as though you were in the back of a car… Parked outside of your apartment building? 

“Hey, you’re finally awake.” Bang Chan’s voice entered your ear. It all came rushing back to you; the restaurant, the drinking, entering the SUV. 

“How long have we been parked here?” Your groggy voice sounded inhuman. You had to clear your throat a couple times. 

“It’s only been twenty or so minutes. I’m not allowed to leave the car, are you able to get home alone? I can ask my manager to go with you.” Bang Chan scratched the back of his neck. 

“I should be fine.” You mumbled, a bit embarrassed to have fallen asleep in the car of a person you just met that day. This wasn’t even his car, it was his manager’s. 

“Hey… can I put my number in your phone?” Bang Chan avoided your eyes. “Just so you can tell me when you get home.” He quickly added. 

“Okay.” You awkwardly handed him your phone with your contacts already opened. He quickly typed his phone number in before handing it back to you. 

“Text me when you get home. Remember to lock your door, okay?” 

You thank both him and his manager before hurrying back to your apartment. Your head was still pounding unrelentlessly as you pressed the elevator button for your floor. The events of today were still unprocessed in your brain. You met a potential friend, which was a highlight. However, you also met two higher up managers and an actual idol, only to get hilariously drunk in the presence of. At least it’ll make a good story to tell my mom. You thought. 

In no time, you made it in your apartment and locked the door behind you, remembering what Bang Chan told you in the car. You texted the new number in your phone. 

Y/n: Hi. It’s y/n. I just entered my apartment.

Not even a minute later, your phone lit up, signaling a new text message. 

Bang Chan: great!! remember to lock the doooor hahaha ( ◕ω◕✿ )

You subconsciously grin at your phone. Cute. Throwing your phone haphazardly on your bed, you begrudgingly began your night routine. After washing up and throwing on a random shirt from your closet, you fell on your bed ready to sleep. You were about to close your eyes when your phone lit up again with a ding. It was another text.

Bang Chan: Hey… Just so you know, if you ever feel unsafe around the office just tell me okay? I’ll always try to help you in whatever way I can.

[strawwritesfic]

Asexual!Q x Female!Reader: Logical Fallacy [Ch. 14]

Summary: Q’s got one hundred and two problems. His girlfriend is, technically speaking, every single one.

Challenge:  “102 Things A Guy Should Know About Girls” challenge by Miss Chocobo on Lunaescence Archives.

Ratings/Warnings/Tags: T (foul language; sexual references; asexual!Q; sexual!reader; a running gag about sexual harassment; double standard: sexual harassment, female on male; sexual harassment played for comedy; James Bond & Reader friendship; civilian!reader; artist!reader; complicated family relationships; reader has a really big family; miscommunications; MI6 would not behave this way in reality; set post-Skyfall; joking references made to Bond/Q)

Pairings: Q/Female!Reader; James Bond/Eve Moneypenny

Tag List: @imaginesfire, @rory-cakes​​

Master List

Rule #14: Memorize your girlfriend’s birthday. You forget her birthday and you’re basically screwed for life. Not gonna lie.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!”

Q ran as he had not run since his physical examination. The lateness of the hour made the sidewalk mostly empty, but he still had to do a fair amount of dodging other late-night pedestrians. Taxis trundled by, honking in clear derision of the young man flying past them. He did not even stop to give them his usual disdainful glare.

“Shit!”

His shoes slid against the gravel as he rounded a sharp corner; his hands spread wide to grip the nearby stair banister so that he did not fall entirely. A momentary pause for him to settle his glasses back onto his nose correctly, then he sprinted up the stairs.

The moon left blotchy patches of light on the path beneath his feet. He hardly noticed. It was nearly midnight, and he had not remembered. Of all the days to stay late at work. He’d promised–Well, it didn’t matter what Q had promised. It was far too late to keep that promise now.

He pushed the door to his flat open, breathing heavily. The lamps were on, but everything was quiet. No television. No computer. No iPod speakers. There was mud on the bottoms of Q’s feet, but he didn’t care about tracking it through the house at the moment. Eyes darting around, looking for any sign of life, he closed the door behind himself and started to search.

It didn’t take much time for him to find you. You sat at the kitchen table, head resting on your arms, clearly asleep. Q froze immediately. What was he to do, now that he knew where you were? You were dressed in a very pretty [color] dress, and a lot of work appeared to have gone into your hair.

His eyes slid over to a clock by the window. 11:35. Nervous fingers ran a shaky path through Q’s hair. As tempting as it was to just leave you there until you woke up tomorrow long after he had gone back to work, he knew that wasn’t fair. A deep breath filled his lungs, then he placed his hand on your bare shoulder and gave it a gentle shake.

“Mm.” Your eyelids and lips tightened. He shook a little harder. You inhaled sharply just as your eyes popped open wide. “Alton?” you muttered sleepily.

“Hey,” he said, guilt pooling in his stomach. “What are you doing asleep in the kitchen?”

“I was waiting for you to come for di–” You looked wildly around for the clock. “Dinner! We have to get going! We’ll miss our reservations.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “We already missed our reservations.”

“What do you mean? It’s only–” You caught sight of the darkness outside, and then the clock. “Eleven-forty…”

“[Name]…” Q began. Without looking at him, you got to your feet and gathered your purse from where it had been sitting by your chair. “[Name], I–”

You looked at him and smiled. Q had known you long enough to tell it was not your real smile. “Busy day at work?” To avoid looking at him any longer, you bent down to unlatch the straps on your shoes.

“Yes, but–”

“Sorry you had to wake me up. I’ve gotta go take all this off.” You gestured to your face. “Then you can have the bathroom, if you want it.”

The obvious dismissal thoroughly stopped Q from speaking further. He heard you pad up the carpeted hallway, flick on a light, and walk into the bathroom. He pressed a hand to his forehead and sunk into your recently vacated chair.

“Not such a clever boy,” he whispered. Allowing his mind to drift, he dug absently around in his messenger bag until his fingers found a large, flat box. He pulled it out and gazed at it until he heard the water running in the bathroom stop. Better now than later, he thought grimly, and walked to the bathroom himself.

“[Name].”

“Yes?”

“Are you mad at me?”

You lifted your face from the towel and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Then you let out a sigh and slowly set the towel down. “I’m not mad, Alton.”

“But you’re not happy.”

“Of course not. I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.” Now Q could hear tears in your voice. Panic made his heart pound a little quicker. He did not like when you cried. He never knew how to handle it. To make matters worse, this time you were crying over him. As if you knew how he felt, you looked determinedly away from both him and the mirror. “Ever since you got this MI6 job, you’ve been even busier than usual. I’m just a distraction you wish was gone.”

“I’m flattered that you want my company so badly,” he said hopefully. Your mood, however, didn’t change.

“It was my birthday, Alton,” you whispered. “And you chose work over me again.”

This was the one time when Q would definitely admit he screwed up. What good would that do, though? Instead, he lifted his box and waved it so whatever was inside shook.

“It’s still your birthday. 11:58. I know–I meant to be home. I should have been. Do you at least want your present?”

He caught a flash of [color] eyes in the mirror, and then you turned around. “You got me a present?” you asked in a tone that suggested you hardly dared to believe it.

“Of course I got you a present. Did you think I forgot your birthday entirely?”

Your smile was a confession. “A little.”

“Well, I didn’t. So?” Q stepped closer to you and offered the box. You took it and tugged the lid gently open. A gasp slipped from your mouth.

“Oh, Alton.”

He pulled the necklace out and let it hang from his fingers in midair. “This one doesn’t have a tracking device in it,” Q explained.

“I love it already.”

He leaned down to kiss you once on the forehead. “I thought you might.”

[beyondspaceandstars]

While You Sleep

Chapter 11

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: nothing (i think?) Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

a/n: hi all please be patient I am having some writers block/lack of motivation lately for writing so this series may be a bit on a pause (hopefully not) but I am working to get out more drabbles to maybe just get some inspo or something!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Waking up in Bucky’s arms felt just too good to be true. You were sure it was a dream, a nice, new dream Fate had blessed you with, but when Bucky shifted beside you and you felt every sensation, you knew you were truly awake. 

It also helped tremendously that you had a pleasant dream about him. It feels like centuries since you were shaken awake by the actions of The Winter Soldier. You couldn’t even consider any of it the actions of him next to you, feeling like the person in your dreams was and wasn’t the man in this bed. Everything felt like it intertwined dangerously, vines running through your mind. But, truthfully, you didn’t wanna think too much about it. You were finally getting your chance at the real soulmate experience, dates and dreams and all, and that was too priceless to spend time dwelling over much else.

Bucky awoke slowly, his normally rough eyes met yours in the softest manner. You two were tangled comfortably, still in most of last night's clothing, minus your panties and Bucky’s sweater which he must’ve ditched in the middle of the night. But none of that bothered you for a second. You were just too glad to be in this bed with your soulmate, cocooned lovingly in the sheets.

Bucky’s hoarse morning voice broke the silence, “Good morning.”

You smirked. “Good morning.” You shifted on your side and Bucky removed his arm from your waist, letting you get comfortable. The other arm around your shoulder stayed put. Quite surprisingly, it was his metal one. You could see Bucky’s torso completely now, the light from the sun hitting him in just the right way. Your eyes traveled from his arm to his shoulder, looking curiously. He was a fascinating phenomenon that you couldn’t believe was yours.

Thankfully, Bucky didn’t shiver away at the interest you were taking again in his arm and instead, indulged in your curiosity. “What’s going on in that pretty brain of yours?”

Your eyes snapped back to Bucky’s face. Your cheeks heated up from the question, feeling like you were caught doing something wrong. But Bucky didn’t look at all upset. Slowly, your eyes drifted back down and your hand came up to caress the base of his neck, just barely skimming his shoulder. He shuddered under the feeling.

“Does it… Does it hurt or anything?” You asked, suddenly feeling very stupid the second the words left your mouth. You bit your lip, trying to find the words to peddle back, but Bucky didn’t seem very bothered by it.

“No,” he shook his head. “I guess I don’t think much about it now. It’s just part of me. Obviously.”

You nodded, still letting your hand trace invisible patterns on his skin. “And you use it to fight bad guys?”

Bucky chuckled. “You’re still on that, huh?” You smirked and shrugged, wordlessly asking him to continue. “I… I help where I can. Don’t think it’s much to get excited about it but I like to think I have a hand in making the world better. It’s the least I could do since…” His words trailed off, leaving a kind of heaviness in the conversation. Bucky’s eyes lost their softness. They were beginning to water up but before any tear could escape, he spoke again. “You know, I actually am glad you brought this up. I have a mission soon.”

Your brows furrowed. “What?” 

He nodded and sat up in the bed, untangling you two. You followed his motions, gripping the blanket to you as you now sat side-by-side. 

“Should just be for a day or so. Mainly just gathering intel, nothing really crazy from the looks of it, but I still wanted to let you know.”

“W-When?”

“Tomorrow.”

Your jaw went slack. “You have a mission to leave for tomorrow and I’m just now hearing about it?”

Despite your rising anger, you let Bucky take your hand in his. He rubbed soft circles on your skin. “Doll, I promise, I didn’t know about it until yesterday morning.”

“Were you going to tell me?” You were a bit surprised by how softly your words came out, just barely making it above a whisper. Your heart was pounding loudly in your ears, worry and uncertainty course through you. You didn’t know what these missions could really entail. Could they really just be intel gathering? What if stuff goes wrong? Stuff goes wrong all the time, right? Your head was swimming and all you really knew was that you were losing your soulmate for a bit. Sure, you had gone your entire life without him (and he went without you much longer) but now you two were connected. It was practically set in stone. The situation had changed drastically and now he was leaving to do God knows what…

Bucky let out a sigh, the noise forcing you out of your worried thoughts. He spoke gently as if sensing the uneasiness within you, “Yes, I planned to, doll, I just didn’t know how to bring it up. When you asked about my job again, I just jumped on the opportunity, okay? I swear, I wasn’t going to just disappear.”

You wrapped your arm around his, leaning closer to rest your head in the crook of his neck. He shifted to welcome the touch. 

“You can’t disappear,” you whispered. “After what happened that night on the phone…” It flashed back. The dial tone in your ear, the thought of Bucky gone in the night. You didn’t want to remember those feelings, really. “You gotta promise me you’re going to be safe.”

Bucky let out a soft chuckle and you possibly would’ve found it comical, it was actually quite funny asking an ex-assassin to be safe, but thanks to the bond, there wasn’t anything funny about anything. You couldn’t imagine even having to put a bandaid on him. 

“I’ll be safe, doll,” he said. “Try not to worry.”

You scoffed. “Impossible.”

A moment passed before Bucky reached to cup the side of your face. Instinctively, you brought your face up to meet his. His expression as he stared back with a true whirlwind of emotions. Sadness, appreciation, love… But he didn’t express anything outwardly, and instead just placed his lips on yours. His body pressed into you as the kiss deepened, slowly pushing you back to the bed. You two fell back once again into the entanglement of one another. 

***

“You’re going to be okay, right?” 

“Yes, sweetheart, I’ll be fine.”

You tried giving an understanding nod but still, all you felt was worry as you and Bucky stood outside your apartment building saying your goodbyes. It was early and he had made sure to stop by before you had to leave for work. You thought you two had said your goodbyes in more ways than one yesterday but he wasn’t leaving so easily and you were secretly glad.

“I’m just making sure,” you sighed and reached to grab his hand. He accepted, intertwining your fingers.

“I know,” he nodded. “Are you going to be okay?”

You raised your brows. “Me?” You let out a small laugh. “I’m not the one going on a mission to do who knows what in God knows where.”

Bucky shook his head, a small smirk on his lips. “No, but I still have to make sure you’re safe here.”

“Bucky, I’ve spent a lot of time alone. I’m going to be just fine.”

Bucky’s expression morphed into something unsettling. He looked quite distressed at your comment, which you hadn’t truly expected, but hearing it out loud, you wanted to cringe at the statement. It was probably the most uncomfortable reminder but Bucky didn’t mention anything about it.

“I’m just making sure.” He repeated your words as a teasing remark, making you let out a small sigh of relief.

In a quick last-minute move, you pulled him closer to place a loving kiss on his lips. He smiled into it as his other hand came up to caress your cheek. Warmth raced through you as he broke the kiss.

“Have a good day at work, doll.”

“Have a good mission, Buck.”

***

You thanked your lucky stars that work today was ridiculously slow. It was almost the weekend but the usual rush of morning folks had dwindled pretty fast. Truly, though, this was a best-case scenario in your eyes because in between the fleeting customers and out of the watchful gaze of your boss, you took time to send Bucky some texts. While, yes, you knew he hated texting (who could blame him with the T9 keyboard he was working with) but you still thought they would be nice for him to read. 

I’m sure you’re high off in the sky getting briefed on your task but I wanted to wish you luck. You hit send with a goofy grin feeling a bit silly and a bit… concerned. Your worry for Bucky hadn’t stopped and you knew most likely it was consequences of being separated from your soulmate but you wished the gnawing at your soul would quit it. Still, though, a part of you felt giddy being able to send him cute little things while he was gone.

Your coworker took notice of your behavior quite quickly. As she came around the counter  restocking the syrups, she asked, “What’s got you all lovestruck?”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress your smile. “Bucky’s gone for a bit and I was just sending him a little love note.”

Your coworker chuckled. “A love note. Oh, how far you two have come.” With that sentiment, she went back to her restocking, leaving you to stare at your phone. You nodded to yourself realizing, yeah, you and Bucky had come far. You didn’t know if all relationships hit the gas pedal but there had always been an urgency with you even before ever looking at Bucky. You had wanted this for a while, always unsure if you would get it thanks to what the nightmares showed, but now it was real. It was as Bucky said, if it felt right to you two, then it must be.

Thinking of you. You sent off another little message before sliding your phone back into your pocket. You waited the rest of your shift but never received anything back, not that you really expected it, though. You figured if he had time to call, he was going to wait for that opportunity. 

Eventually, the clock hit quitting time and you exited the coffee shop, waving a brief goodbye to your coworker. Standing on the sidewalk, you half expected to maybe see Bucky eager to walk you home or take you to dinner but the street was gravely empty. You shook off the unusual thought and began your journey home. 

It was a fairly quiet night and you were thankful for that. It gave you a chance to just be with yourself for a second after a whirlwind of days and nights with Bucky by your side. Maybe this distance would be good, you thought. The distance creates a need and your reunion would be unlike anything you had ever felt before. You blushed at the thought.

You made your way into your apartment building and up the stairs. Unlocking your door, you threw down your items and began getting ready for bed. The softness of it was just begging for you. While you would’ve loved to be back in Bucky’s, you were dying for a bit of sleep to maybe ease your hyperactive thoughts of your soulmate and his mission. 

After taking off your make-up and getting on your pajamas, you crawled under the covers. Sleep hit you almost immediately, a new occurrence you were getting used to. You never really recalled a time when you were welcoming sleep with open arms.

But maybe you were counting your blessings too soon. Tonight ended up not being how it had been for the past few days. The nightmares came back in a sudden rush, way too fast for you to even think about what the hell was going on. You felt so lost, being pushed so many steps back in your progress, as scenes of fighting and guns blazing flashed in and out without any warning. The emotions came back as well. Need and anger were swelling in your heart as you fought and fought within the nightmares. Everything began feeling…so real. The nightmares felt strong as your body felt it had a mind of its own, tossing around your bed in panic as your brain filled with the images and… yells?

You were shaking now. You didn’t remember hearing sounds in your nightmares before but everything can be suppressed if you’re traumatized enough, you figured. But there was just something within you that didn’t feel right. Granted, nothing was right about the nightmares but this was different… these sounds felt real and sudden… Your brain was screaming. What the...

Something cold hit your back. At first, you had thought your blanket fell off but when you went to grab it, you found your hands were bound together. Real panic, nothing of the dream kind, raced through you. Your eyes bolted open. 

You didn't find your blanket because it wasn’t there. You weren’t in your bed. Hell, you weren’t even in your apartment. You were alone, shoved into a dark cell, your back pressed against a cold, metal wall. The panic was settling in but you couldn’t find the strength to react besides staring around frantically in the dark. You couldn’t make out anything, barely able to even see your own body. It was deadly silent.

You began praying to whatever was out there that this was just a dream, that you just really couldn't wake up, you had only thought you woke up. But that just wasn’t the case and a sad part of you really knew it. Nightmares suddenly weren’t just reserved for bedtime.

[joonie-beanie]

Missing Ingredient

Pairing: Solomon x Reader

Word Count: 5,467

Preview: Solomon needs help obtaining some "nectar" for a spell he wants to try, and asks you for your assistance.

Unbeknownst to you, the so-called nectar he needs isn't from a flower at all.

This chapter is also being posted as a part of my “Devil Doms” series on AO3.

I wrote this after getting inspired by one of @/shokujin-art’s pieces with Solomon and their MC Ethan!

WARNING: This chapter can be considered dub-con. If dubious consent makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

“I need your help.”

The smile on Solomon’s face is a little disconcerting. After all, usually it’s not he who is asking you for help, but…you decide to hear him out.

“With what?”

Your gaze is openly skeptical as you regard him, but his smile doesn’t waver.

“I need nectar for a spell I’ve been wanting to test out for a while. I was wondering if you could help me in that regard.”

You blink at him, confused. Nectar? How the hell are you supposed help with that? It’s not like you’re an expert with flowers, and you certainly have no idea about flowers that reside in the Devildom.

“You…want me to help you find…nectar?”

He nods, bringing a hand up to his chin—his eyes turning towards the ceiling.

“Well…basically, yes.”

You narrow your gaze at his phrasing, concern growing by the moment. Exactly what the hell is Solomon playing at? You know he’s a bit of a sketchy bastard, and sometimes you feel like he can’t be trusted, but…so far, he hasn’t wronged you.

…that counts for something, right?

“Listen,” you say, poking a finger into his chest. His eyes widen at the action, and he pauses—staring at you as you continue to jab him. “I’ll help you, okay? But I better not be harmed on this journey to achieve whatever “nectar” you need. Got it, wizard boy?”

Solomon rolls his eyes at your nickname—catching your finger when you move to press your nail into his chest once more.

“You won’t experience any pain,” he says, laughing quietly. His eyes crease, a handsome smile lighting up his face, and for a second, you forget about your worries.

“I promise.”

The next weekend, you get a text from Solomon demanding that you come over to Purgatory Hall.

Today is the day—he needs your help with his nectar issue—and so, you pack up your bag and head over.

You’d attempted to ask him what retrieving this nectar would entail. After all, did you need to dress in hiking boots?? Would he be taking you out into the Devildom wilderness to try and find some rare, valuable flower?? But Solomon had refused to reveal any details.

He’d simply explained that it may take a few hours, and that you should just bring yourself, and any basic necessities.

So now, here you are—standing on the step to Purgatory Hall—waiting for Solomon to come and let you in. It takes a few minutes, but eventually the grand wooden door is pulled open.

“Took you long enough,” you mumble as he ushers you inside. The sorcerer can only laugh, keeping pace beside you as the two of you traverse the halls—heading towards his room.

“Sorry,” he says. His hand moves to wipe at his brow. You notice the tiny beads of sweat sticking to his skin, and curiosity fills you. “I was preparing.”

“Preparing for what?”

Again, Solomon reveals nothing. He easily laughs off the seriousness of your question, waving a hand in front of him as if to try and dissipate any of your worries.

“Preparing to retrieve the nectar,” he responds after a moment, flashing you a small smile. “I’ve been trying to gather the ingredients for this spell for many, many years, and this is the last, and hardest one to collect.”

“And…you need my help in particular with this…why?”

Your eyebrows are knit together on your forehead, and you’re sure that Solomon notices your trepidation, yet he chooses not to address it. Instead, he continues a few more strides up the hall before stopping.

You’ve already arrived at his room.

He reaches out to grab the doorknob, his silver eyes darkening playfully as he regards you. The subtle shift in his demeanor has butterflies tickling the inside of your stomach, and you swallow nervously.

While you’re not as magically inclined as Solomon, you can still feel the magic leaking from inside of his room. He obviously has something planned for you once you step inside, but you’re not sure what.

“…you promised you wouldn’t hurt me,” you remind him, pouting angrily—attempting to hide your apprehension. Your words have Solomon rolling his eyes, and he releases the door knob.

Standing straight, he jerks two of his fingers towards you, and suddenly a golden magic circle encases one of your wrists.

Your eyes widen in surprise, but before you can think to say anything, he’s making another motion with his hand. Quickly, the magic circle tugs you forward, and within seconds, you find yourself directly in front of Solomon.

His previously kind smile is now replaced with something more akin to an amused grin.

“I gave you my word, didn’t I?” he asks, free hand moving to gently brush a few stray hairs from your face. The gesture contradicts his current attitude, making you feel torn. Anxiety and excitement mingle in your gut—both turned on and concerned by your predicament.

“You did, but you’re kind of a bastard, so I want you to reassure me…,” you mumble, cheeks heating up as you stare at him.

This isn’t exactly the first time Solomon has used his magic to fluster you. No, many times now he has casually used spells to fuck with you—making you more sensitive to the touch, or creating a brief gust of wind to flip your skirt up while at RAD. It has kind of become your thing—picking on each other, with Solomon bridging into sexual territory every so often.

Actually...you’d made out with him a few weeks prior—both of you slightly intoxicated, and drawn in by the club music at The Fall—but it had never gone beyond kissing, and groping. Despite that, the sexual energy between the two of you had been palpable.

Yet, nothing had come of it. You’d mutually parted—preserved your friendship—and gone your separate ways that night. You’d assumed that Solomon simply wasn’t interested in doing those kinds of things with you—that any playfully sexual advances towards you were done in the spirit of friendship. Which you were okay with.

But…now that you’re standing here—hair risen all across your body at the magic leaking from his room—you know that he has big plans. And judging by the glint in his eyes, and the way his thumb is carefully caressing your cheek—you’ll certainly be in for a treat.

“When you step beyond the threshold of this door, no harm will come to you,” he speaks calmly, dipping down to press a soft kiss to your lips. Almost instantly, you’re melting into him—heart hammering against your ribs as your defenses are so easily torn away.

“Do you trust me?”

You nod, and his fingers leave your face. You hear the doorknob turn.

“I shouldn’t, but I do.”

He laughs at that, and in the next beat, he’s pulling you inside.

His room is just like you remember it—spacious, and dark. His desk is littered with an army of ingredients, and spell books. His bed is nicely made, and there’s a single, leather armchair tucked into the corner of the room, near the fireplace.

The only thing out of the ordinary is the golden blob of magic sitting in the center of the room. There’s an intricately drawn circle of chalk surrounding it—many runes, and foreign words tied into the dormant spell.

“I’m beginning to think that this “nectar” you need isn’t exactly from a flower…,” you mumble, sending him a little look when he once again uses the magic circle around your wrist to force you farther into his room. Solomon only smiles, guiding you forward until you’re standing inside the chalk ring—the blob of magic at your feet.

“To be honest, for the longest time I thought I was searching for a rare flower,” he says, sighing as he recalls his strife. His footsteps echo throughout the silent room as he scoots arounds the circle, shaking his head in disappointment. “This is a spell I found in an ancient text, and the words were quite hard to decipher. At some point, I picked out the word “nectar”, but figuring out what kind of nectar took far too long.”

As he speaks, you feel the spell at your feet start to buzz to life. And when your gaze flickers to the floor, you note that the blob of magic is starting to…move?

With each passing second, as the spell activates, the ball of golden magic expands and contracts—bulging here or there. You’re forced to divide your attention between Solomon—who is now standing in front of the leather chair—and the magic at your feet (which looks ready to explode).

“Solomon…,” you speak nervously, gasping when a second magic circle suddenly encases your free wrist. You turn to look at the sorcerer just as he jerks his fingers towards the ceiling—forcing your arms high above your head, where the spinning circles then merge into a single, larger one.

“H-Hey! You still haven’t told me what the hell is going on!” you stutter, feeling warmth on your cheeks as you realize your current state of vulnerability. With your hands bound like this, there’s no way you can escape whatever Solomon has planned.

“And yet, you still look like you’re enjoying this,” he teases you. You attempt to glare at him, but there’s no real power behind it, considering he’s right.

“Bastard…”

Solomon laughs at that, and he steps into the chalk circle without warning. His hands find your waist, and he kisses you without an ounce of hesitation. His lips are firm, and warm—moving against your own languidly, like he’s got all the time in the world.

The show of intimacy successfully distracts you from the ball of magic at your feet. Well…at least until the energy takes a new form—multiple, long limbs of magic shooting out, and wrapping around you.

“Mmph!” you squeal around his tongue, rearing back in shock. You look down, wriggling as the warm tendrils of magic climb your body. One is already hugging your waist—replacing the feel of Solomon’s hands as the wizard takes a step back—watching everything unfold with a self-satisfied grin spreading across his lips.

“Basically,” he speaks, calm as ever—as if you aren’t being molested by magic. His magic. “I finally figured out that the “nectar” I’ve been searching for is the arousal of a human. The product of their pleasure.”

His words have you feeling even hotter—an embarrassing gasp leaving you as one of the tendrils wraps around your thigh, and wiggles against your clothed sex.

“Really, of course I finally figured it out once I’m here in the Devildom.” He shakes his head, crossing his arms disappointedly. You bite your lip, trying to stifle another lewd sound as the tendril around your waist curls up between your breasts.

From what you can tell, there are 2…well, tentacles of magic in total—with one occupying your legs, and the other busying itself with your torso.

“I-If you need human arousal, why not use your own?” you ask him, already quite breathless. The sound makes Solomon’s eyes sparkle.

“What? You think I want to sit around and jerk into a cup for god knows how long?” he laughs, eyes raking down your body. His gaze stops near your hips, and he makes a motion with his hand. In response, the tentacle currently rubbing softly against your pussy pulls away—hooking under the waistband of your pants.

In one swift motion, it tugs the garment down your legs, and discards it onto the floor. You flush hottly, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to preserve a sliver of modesty—but the tendril of magic easily slips its way between your legs, once again rubbing against your pelvis.

“And besides, this route seemed much more fun.” He smiles cheekily, a dark sort of amusement lingering in his silver gaze. “I always pegged you as the type to enjoy a situation like this anyway. You know, a damsel in distress with a bit of kink and sex thrown in.”

You send him another look, but can’t say anything. Because…he’s not necessarily wrong. You can’t deny his words, nor can your body deny its reaction to your current predicament. Each pass of the magic between your legs or against your breasts has arousal pooling in your gut.

“Of course, if I’m wrong, just tell me, and I’ll stop.”

Despite the teasing look on his face, his words are genuine. He won’t do anything you’re not okay with. Even if he needs the ingredient for his spell, it seems he’s not entirely an asshole. At least, not to you.

“N…no…I’m okay with this,” you admit meekly, causing him to smile. “But…how are you retrieving the… um…”

You’re too shy to say it, now, realizing what the nectar actually is.

“Well, I did mention that all of this took time to prepare,” he responds, allowing the tendrils of his magic to continue roaming your body freely. It seems like he’s able to control them when he wants, but otherwise, they’ll continue working towards their goal on their own.

“Since I was able to get you to agree to help me out—”

“Without telling me what would actually be involved.”

He sends you a look—a little annoyed at being interrupted despite so kindly answering all of your questions.

“Oh I’m sorry—,” he makes a motion with his hand, and suddenly the tentacle around your chest is tearing your shirt away with a definitive rip. In the same beat, the tentacle between your legs slips beneath the crotch of your panties—tugging them off your body.

Somehow, it manages to discard the garment near Solomon’s feet, so he bends down and picks up the cotton fabric with a smile—the large spot of arousal hard to miss, even in the dim light of his room.

“—but do you really have the right to be sassing me about my ethics, when you’re already wet enough to stain your panties? Clearly, you’re turned on despite me not telling you, love.”

You open your mouth to attempt to defend your pride, but the only sound that comes out is a lewd gasp. The smooth magic between your thighs resumes its motions—now rubbing up against your wet pussy with no barrier. The contact makes you ache—your clit already so sensitive to the touch—and a satisfied grin settles on Solomon’s face.

“As I was saying,” he continues with his explanation calmly, but his gaze doesn’t leave the sight of you. With your panties gone, and your shirt in tatters on the floor, the sorcerer would be a fool to not watch the show unraveling in front of him.

“It took time to prepare. I had to figure out what would be the best way to retrieve the nectar without letting it go to waste. After all, sex can be so messy.”

Solomon pauses for a moment, soaking in the sound of your voice as you whine—your body flushed from head to toe as the thick tentacles of his magic keep their pace, rubbing against you in all the right places.

His slacks are beginning to feel a little tight.

He coughs.

“Basically, the raw magic will absorb your “nectar”, and will keep it trapped until I can draw it out.”

“S-So what?” you whimper, fingers helplessly curling and uncurling above you. His magic circle allows your wrists no wiggle room. “Y-You’re just going to sit here and watch your magic molest me until you’ve collected enough of my arousal for your spell?”

“Molest is a strong word,” Solomon says, seating himself in the leather chair. He leans back, letting his legs spread wide, and your eyes fall to the tent in his pants. “I prefer fondle. Or, pleasure. After all, you’re feeling a fair amount of pleasure right now, aren’t you?”

With a small inclination of his fingers, the tentacle between your legs pulls back—the thick, rounded tip pressing directly against your clit. It moves in miniscule side to side motions, and Solomon sees the way your entire body flexes—thighs shaking with each pass over your bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” you pant, arms straining against their bindings. The wizard chuckles.

“Shall I make you cum like this? Or would you prefer to wait? Personally, I have no qualms making you orgasm until you’re begging me to stop, but I also don’t want to break you. You’d be a pain to put back together.”

“Asshole,” you remark.

With the tentacle still swiping across your clit, you know it won’t be long until you reach your climax. And while you know cumming will only serve to make everything more sensitive afterwards, you can’t bring yourself to pass up the offer of an orgasm. You’re already too close, and your body is begging for a release.

“I…I want to cum. Please.”

“Look at you, saying “please” even though you’re calling me an asshole.”

You so desperately wish he was within kicking range, because if he was, you would absolutely lift your leg and wipe that cocky grin straight off his face.

Luckily, the magic between your legs quickly distracts you from your anger towards the sorcerer. 

As if hearing your plea to cum, it begins to work even faster—searching for the pattern that will undoubtedly drag you into the depths of your pleasure. And once it finds it—lewd gasps and moans falling from your lips—the tentacle keeps at it until you’re tumbling into your release.

Sensing your orgasm, the magic limb presses up against your pelvis. It slots between your folds, rubbing languidly as you experience your high.

You can only guess that it’s currently collecting all of the precious “nectar” that has leaked from your throbbing pussy following your climax.

“Shit…”

Apparently willing to give you a moment to breath, the magic tendril occupying your sex continues its slow motions. In its place, the tentacle that had been lazily fondling your chest until now gets to work. It fully wraps around both of your breasts—squeezing, and tugging—almost as if it’s attempting to milk you.

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation—quiet, hot breaths filling the space in front of you as the tailend of your orgasm finally passes. Yet, you can still feel the embers burning in your gut, threatening to reignite with any simple touch.

“Feel good?” Solomon questions, drawing you out of your haze. Your eyes fall to him, heart thundering in your chest when you notice that one of his hands has strayed beneath his trousers—fingers enclosed around his length through the fabric of his underwear.

“Perverted wizard,” you speak instead, completely ignoring his question. The smallest of grins grace your lips, a breathy laugh leaving you. “Getting so hard from watching me. Shouldn’t you be ashamed?”

He chuckles at your words, looking amused by your wit.

Truly, you’re a fool to be speaking to him like that, as if he isn’t the one in charge right now. While he’s been kind to you thus far, he has no issue in changing that.

“Be a good cock slut and shut the hell up.”

He flicks his fingers, a fake smile plastered on his face, and in the next moment your pussy is filled to the brim with his magic. The tentacle reaches deep—snaking between your walls until the soft head is pressed flush against your cervix.

The abrupt intrusion has you crying out, wrists once again straining against their bindings as you struggle to adjust to the new sensation. And yet, Solomon grants you no grace period.

The magic begins to move—sliding in and out of your wet walls at a swift pace that has your mouth opening, but no sound coming out. At the same time, the tentacle at your chest squeezes harder, the tip of the appendage moving to swirl around one of your hardened nipples.

“S-Solomon,” you choke out, knees buckling under the intensity of his magic. The way his name sounds falling from your lips—desperate and overwhelmed—has his cock jumping against its confines.

His jaw clenches, fingers squeezing a bit tighter as he strokes himself.

“I’d slow their pace down, but I can hear how wet you are from here,” he remarks, silver gaze falling to the space between your thighs. As the tentacle grinds inside of you, small amounts of your arousal are soaked up by his magic. As they’re absorbed, the liquid pools in the main body of the magic—the blob still resting at the center of the chalk circle which is keeping his spell active.

“I called you a cock slut teasingly, but it seems you actually are one. How precious.”

“Fuck off,” you pant, body writhing as the embers in your gut quickly reignite into flames—hot, intense, and growing with each second that passes.

He laughs at your exclamation, pressing to his feet. With deft fingers, Solomon quickly rids himself of his pants, and underwear—the pieces of clothing lying abandoned on the floor beside your own. And when he moves forward—once again entering the magic circle, and stepping into your personal space—you feel your heart skip a beat.

Your pussy clenches around the tentacle still working inside of you, nervous butterflies blooming in your tummy when you see the dark look in Solomon’s eyes. Like he’s finally giving you a glimpse of the real him—not the kind façade he always shows in front of the others.

“If you’re going to use your mouth in such a vulgar fashion, I know a better way.”

Suddenly, without warning, the magic circle encasing your wrists presses downward—forcing you to your knees. The tentacles adjust accordingly, but continue their ministrations as normal. The new position, however, has you eye-level with Solomon’s weeping cock.

“Say ah,” he says, canting his hips forward. The tip of his length smears against your hot cheek, and you flit your gaze up to him—aroused, and a little scared.

He’d be lying if he said the fear didn’t turn him on.

“No?” Solomon tangles a hand in your hair—firm, but not enough to hurt. He holds your stare, his eyes expectant. Yet, he doesn’t force himself upon you. After all, he gave you his word that he wouldn’t hurt you, and while right now he would love nothing more than to stuff your mouth with his cock, he won’t if it’s pushing you too far.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves (although it’s not easy to do, considering the two tentacles that are still very bent on pleasuring you for the sake of your “nectar”). Then—

You part your lips, hot breath fanning against his length.

“Aaah—”

Solomon looks genuinely surprised for a moment. However, he definitely won’t be wasting such a perfect opportunity.

“Truly a cock slut,” he says by way of praise—sliding his cock into your mouth before you can even think of responding.

The moment he hits the back of your throat—making you gag—you realize what you’re in for. There’s no way you’re making it out of this situation sane. Not with Solomon fucking your mouth, while his magic devastates your pussy, and fondles your chest.

In contrast to the quick, brutal pace the tentacle currently occupied with your sex has taken, Solomon starts off slowly. He rocks himself into your mouth, his silver eyes focused on you as your lips suction around him. Each time, he ventures deep—his cock sliding into you until you can take no more.

Tears blot your eyes, body tensing as you resist the urge to gag around him once again. Solomon notices your struggle—watching the way your fingers curl into fists. A part of him debates being nicer. You’re already struggling thanks to the ministrations of his magic, after all, and yet—

“You like it rough, don’t you?”

He reaffirms his grip on your hair—holding your head steady as he begins rolling his hips. He’s still not as fast as the tentacle devastating your pussy, but his slow pace is no more. No, he fucks you quick enough that you don’t have time to steel yourself for the sensation of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

So now, along with the wet, slapping sounds already filling the room, your frequent, helpless gagging can be heard as well.

To Solomon, it’s music to his ears.

“I don’t need you to tell me “yes”. I can already see the answer with how much of your arousal my magic is collecting,” he says, breathing a laugh. “Seriously, you’re the one that should be ashamed, Y/N. You stand there and tease me for getting hard, but you’re the one positively leaking right now. Do you want to be even more stuffed? I could create a third tentacle if you like.”

“Nn—,” you attempt to shake your head, tears finally rolling down your cheeks. You already feel like you’re going insane. There’s no way you’d be able to handle anything more than this.

Solomon grins at your response, purposely grinding into your mouth, and holding himself there. He watches as you flounder—body writhing against the bindings at your wrists. 

Even as you struggle to breathe, you can feel the orgasm building inside of you.

You choke down a sob.

Solomon’s magic is relentless. You have no idea how long it’s been—how long the tentacles have been teasing you—have been trying to milk you for all that you’re worth—but it’s been long enough to bring you to the edge once more. And each time Solomon forces you to gag around him, you only inch closer.

“Mmph,” you whine pathetically around him, your body shaking as your pleasure continues to build to a peak. It won’t be long until you’re sent tumbling over the edge a second time, and once that happens, you’re not sure how much more you’ll be able to take. Your brain already feels like it’s on the verge of short-circuiting.

“This is a good look on you—,” he comments. Sweat has beaded on his brow—stray strands of his hair sticking to his forehead, and you’re mad that he still manages to appear so handsome despite his disheveled state.

“—ruined, and on the brink of orgasm. You’re going to cum again, right?”

Your noise of admission is lost around his cock as he continues fucking into your mouth. However, he doesn’t need to hear your agreement. He can already tell—what, with the way your eyes are practically ready to roll back into your head.

“You should wait for me,” he says, amusement tugging at his lips when he feels you whimper. “Can you manage that?”

Without waiting for your muffled attempt at a response, Solomon thrusts become rougher. He fucks into your throat, groaning at the way you instinctively gag and swallow around him. Saliva pools at the corners of your lips—slipping down to your chin and mingling with the tears that have fallen from your eyes.

You’re so overwhelmed. You’ve never experienced so many sensations at once, and while you try your best to hold out for Solomon—to be good, and wait for him like he’s requested—you can’t. It’s impossible.

With a strangled cry, you come undone. Your body thrashes, your head naturally attempting to pull away from Solomon for much needed air, but he doesn’t let you go anywhere.

“Ah, if only you had waited a little longer,” he remarks, disappointment in his tone. He lowers his other hand to grab your head, and more tears pour down your cheeks as he face fucks you to his heart’s content—even as your orgasm continues to roll through you.

Luckily, the sorcerer isn’t very far behind. He finds his release just as your orgasm is beginning to subside, the tentacles that are assaulting you finally beginning to slow their ruthless pace. 

Gripping your hair, he forces himself deep into your throat—a dark satisfaction settling in his gut as he watches you choke on his seed.

“Swallow like a good girl,” he chides, one of his hands moving to wipe away your tears. As best you can, you swallow around him—puffy eyes turning up to him. The pleading look on your face successfully softens his heart, and with a sigh, he releases your head.

Immediately, you’re pulling back—coughing and gasping for air.

“P-Please, I can’t…anymore…,” you beg, voice raw. The tentacles have started picking up their pace once again--ready to resume their duty after having given you a few minutes to rest.

Solomon clicks his tongue, his silver gaze dropping to the mass of magic on the floor. There’s a fair amount of your “nectar” that has settled at the bottom of the orb. Enough that Solomon will be able to attempt his spell more than a few times.

So, with that in mind, he releases you.

The tentacle around your torso unwinds—your breasts feeling used, and sore from its touches. At the same time, the magic stuffing your pussy slowly pulls out—the limb soaking up whatever excess arousal you have to offer as it retreats.

Before long, the two tentacles have remerged with the ball of golden magic—the light from the spell circle fading as everything settles back into place. Once he’s sure that your precious juices are properly kept, Solomon waves his hand, and the magic binding your wrists disappears.

Almost instantly, you’re falling forward—catching yourself on your hands and knees, fingers smearing through intricately drawn chalk lines. Solomon kneels in front of you, brushing your hair from your eyes.

“You did well,” he says.

“You’re the worst,” you respond. 

Your entire body feels like jello. You’re not even sure there’s any blood left in your arms.

He chuckles.

“Fine, I’m the worst.”

Grabbing you beneath your arms, Solomon helps you to your feet, and leads you over to his bed. He throws the sheets over you, and then moves to retrieve the blob on the center of his floor. He gingerly places it on his desk—resting it atop a plush cushion, like a prized pet.

His eyes linger on it for a few seconds, satisfied. Then, his silver stare turns back to you—his sheets rustling as you settle yourself in.

There’s absolutely no way he’ll be kicking you out anytime soon. If you can barely walk to his bed with his help, there’s no chance that you’ll be able to walk all the way back to the House of Lamentation.

Luckily, he doesn’t seem to mind your company. He’s got a heart inside of him, even if parts are stained black.

“I’ll go get some water,” he says. However, just as he’s brushing past the bed, there’s a knock at his door.

He pauses at the sound, and you hold his sheets tighter around your naked body.

Eyebrow raised curiously, Solomon strides to the door and pulls it open. Standing on the other side is a red-faced Simeon. He looks both angry, and embarrassed.

Solomon’s heart drops.

Despite all his preparation, he’d forgotten to enact a noise blocking spell…

“Oh shit.”

“Oh shit is right,” Simeon responds, crossing his arms. “You’re lucky Barbatos agreed without question to teach Luke a new recipe despite me calling him last minute. Once I heard you and your partner…going at it. You live with a child up the hall, Solomon.”

Solomon sighs. “I’m sorry. I meant to cast a spell to block the noise, but I forgot.”

“Next time, don’t forget, or I’ll have harsher words to say to you.”

“Very much noted.”

“Good.” Nodding, Simeon turns to stalk away from the wizard, but pauses.

“Oh, by the way, you mentioned inviting Y/N over this weekend. Are you still planning to do that? I’d love to see her.”

“Uhhh…,” Solomon resists the urge to glance back into his room, towards the bed where you’re currently hiding yourself. “Yeah. She should be over later. I’ll let you know when she gets here.”

“Good!”

Smiling, Simeon disappears up the hall. Solomon shuts his door, and from beneath his covers, you quietly scream.

“Simeon heard us fucking!! What’s wrong with you!!”

Again, Solomon sighs.

“Yes, yes, we already agreed—I’m the worst. Now pipe down, or I’ll have to shut you up again.”

When you actually cease your scolding words—glaring at him over the edge of his sheets—Solomon cocks an arrogant eyebrow.

Well then, he certainly knows the best way to get you to shut up from now on.

[chainhead]

ink

leon has tattoos. ethan was never informed.

leon/ethan. mild swearing. smug leon, done-with-life ethan. fluffy!

It's fine. It's fine. This is totally fine.

Is it weird? Is he weird? God, he must be weird. It's nothing to get this riled up over, yet here he is, peeking over at Leon every now and then to catch a quick glimpse of the ink that spirals up his forearm.

Ethan bites his lip. Twirls the pen in his hand and clicks the button on top a few times, his desk work momentarily forgotten.

No, this isn't normal. Then again, neither is Leon with tattoos, so how is one supposed to think? React? He's been pretty good about hiding his (admittedly disturbing) attraction to the special agent; but things like this… well, they're on the same level as glasses, or piercings. A small change that—for a select few—can turn their entire world on an axis.

How far up do they go?

Does he have more?

When did he get them, and what do they symbolize?

"Ethan?"

The blonde startles, blue eyes flickering up in embarrassment.

Leon blinks at him. "What's your damage?"

Oh, Jesus Christ. "Nothing, sorry. Just a little spacey… today."

"I'll say."

Ethan hurriedly scoots closer to his desk, quickly turning his attention back to the papers that scatter across it. He isn't even sure what he's supposed to be doing with these, or why he even got assigned to deal with them, but if things keep going the way they are, he's gonna be here all fucking night.

Ethan frowns. And then he hesitates, realization dawning on him slowly that… hey, doesn't Leon work crazy late hours, too?

No.. no, no. He's on the clock. He needs to pay attention…

"Ethan." It isn't a question this time. Ethan meets Leon's gaze with a sheepish expression, and the other man draws his brows together. "Seriously, what's going on with you?"

How does one go about confessing their guilty, weird, quid-pro-quo attraction to their superior without coming off as a freak? Better yet, how does one go about it without getting fired? Ethan feels a cold sweat prickle beneath the collar of his button-up.

I like you. I like you. I like you.

"I like…" It's like there's a solid chunk of ice stuck in his throat. "Well, I mean, your… you know."

Leon's look of concern quickly shifts into one of bewilderment. "No?" He says, real slow-like. "I don't know."

Ethan wants to die.

"It's just…"

The atmosphere in the room shifts. Ethan's hands are clammy and cold and he regrets even opening his mouth; wishing he could've just opted to say that he feels sick and his head hurts, and maybe even take the rest of the night off so he could reflect on all of this – perhaps over a nice glass of red wine. Instead, because he's terrible at socializing and even worse at socializing with Leon, he's currently staring the agent down with terror flashing in his eyes.

Leon doesn't say anything, but it's obvious that he's dying to get this over with, just like Ethan is.

"Y– you can't get mad," Ethan stammers, clenching his fingers.

More silence.

Ethan sighs. Then, finally, he lays down his cards with a quiet, "Your tattoos."

Leon tilts his head. "... Mine?" He asks, a bit delayed, and Ethan has never wanted to evaporate into thin air more than he does right now.

"Yeah."

"Like, the ones on my arms?" Leon rotates his wrists, glancing down at his own artwork. 

"Yeah."

"Ah." 

Great. When should he start packing up his belongings? Now? Tomorrow? There's a spare produce box in the break room, and he only has a couple of personal items on his desk. His name placard, a picture of his childhood dog, a cup full of pens he got on clearance at Staples…

Although Ethan doesn't get to stand up or prepare before Leon is speaking again, his voice surprisingly nonchalant. 

"And...?"

Ethan sucks in a deep breath. That's a good question. "They're… distracting me?" Vague enough to keep matters civil. He can do this. "And that's why I'm a little… slow, today. I think. Because they're doing that. Distracting me, I mean."

Leon hums, acknowledging that he heard Ethan's answer. He waits, silent until Ethan manages to scrounge up the courage to meet him eye-to-eye, and then he laughs.

There's something to be said about the way in which Leon handles all things; from topics as serious as bioweapons wreaking havoc on unsuspecting townhomes, to things like this – Ethan admitting he's intrigued by the older man's ink. He's good at finding the balance while still remaining cool and collected, and that's a trait Ethan's always admired.

Because, sadly, he cannot do that.

"I knew there was something about you, Winters," Leon says jovially, as if he's uncovered some grand secret. He leans back in his chair, pushes himself a little further away from his desk, and says: "Do you want to come have a better look?"

Ethan nearly chokes on his spit. "W– wh– what?"

Leon's grin widens. He's enjoying this. "I can't have distractions in the workplace. So if you're curious, and think it might help you refocus, I implore you to get your ass over here and take a gander."

The blonde flusters, his lips screwing into a scowl. Implore. What did this guy know about words like that?

Regardless, he still obediently gathers himself to his feet, taking the necessary steps to close the distance between him and Leon. The fine hairs on the back of Ethan's neck stand at attention, and he's acutely aware of the personal bubble he is now officially bursting— not that Leon seems to notice, or mind.

Infact, the only thing he does when Ethan comes to stand beside his chair is jut both arms out, letting Ethan do whatever he likes.

Instinctively, Ethan grabs them. Then panics, because holy shit, he's touching Leon fucking Kennedy. Then double panics, because why did he do that? Why is he still doing it right now?

"Uh…"

"You just wanted to hold hands?"

"N– no!" Ethan exclaims, immediately letting go. Leon bursts out into full-bellied laughter, and the blonde has to take a deep breath before he passes out from his nerves. "Jesus, Leon, I– I was trying to bring them a little closer."

"Oh right, the bad eyesight," Leon drawls. "I forgot you wear glasses sometimes. Near-sighted?"

"Far-sighted. Now shut up and let me look," Ethan snaps, finding his second wind. He reaches for Leon's arms again and finds relief in how the older man wordlessly obliges; giving Ethan the opportunity to twist his arms and inspect the patterns that dance across them. It's not a situation Ethan could've expected, or even predicted, but Leon's right about one thing—this is definitely scratching that terrible itch he feels, somewhere deep down. No more needing to sneak creepy, uncomfortable glances to figure out what they are.

However, he'll always wonder where the tattoos lead. And how many more of them Leon has, hidden underneath all those layers of fabric.

"I see." Ethan nods, smiling faintly as he releases his grip again. "They're cool, I wasn't expecting you to have them. Then again, I've never seen you wear anything other than long sleeves."

Leon quirks a brow. "You pay attention?"

Ethan's smile drops. "Oh. I mean, not in like– not in a weird way, that isn't what—"

There's the sound of a scoff, and then Leon's hands are on Ethan's wrists, gently pulling him down to his level. The blonde stumbles forwards and catches himself with a knee on Leon's chair, and the situation is so intense and utterly stifling that Ethan has to rear away with his eyes narrowed in firm on the office door.

"Ethan," Leon coos.

The blonde makes a noncommittal sound in his throat. 

"Ethan, c'mon, look at me."

There's no way this is happening right now. No feasible way. He must be dreaming.

Ethan registers with rapt attention as Leon let's go of his wrists in favor of bringing both hands up to cup his cheeks, and whether Ethan wants to submit or not isn't really an option anymore. Determinedly, the older man coaxes him to meet his gaze again.

"Shy?" Leon teases, and then quickly changes his tune when Ethan struggles in his grasp. "Okay, okay, I was just kidding! Damn."

"Leon—"

"Hold on for a second, sweetheart. I've got a few things on my mind." Ethan's face burns as he tries to process this, process the feel of Leon's touch as it sears itself into his memory. His heart pounds so fiercely in his chest he fears that Leon can feel it, but if he does, he doesn't comment.

Leon brushes his thumbs over Ethan's cheekbones. "You thought I'd be mad?"

"It's... unprofessional," Ethan breathes.

"What is?" Leon asks. His eyes are so blue. "Wanting to see my tattoos?"

Ethan nods. Leon snickers, pulling him that much closer, and the blonde is enveloped in the smell of bergamot and gunpowder and something spicy like sage, and… what was the question again? He can't think clearly when he can feel Leon's words flit across his lips.

"The only 'unprofessional' thing I see is the subordinate about to climb into his boss's lap," Leon murmurs with a wry smile. Ethan lets out a small gasp, jolting, and Leon makes sure he doesn't slip away. "Woah, hey! I never said I didn't like it."

"L– Leon, I don't understand what's…" Ethan stutters, shivering, feeling the traces of electricity that follow Leon's fingertips. He doesn't know whether to lean into him or settle his entire weight on top of Leon, so to play it safe, he refrains from doing either.

The agent takes a moment, eyes sweeping over Ethan's features, before letting out a soft exhale. "Well, now you've seen them. I hope that helped you find some kind of clarity..."

Not even a little bit, Ethan thinks miserably.

"... But it'll probably kill you to know that there's more than just this, and I can assure you, they are much more interesting." Leon chuckles as he tugs the blonde in one last time, and kisses him, right on the corner of his mouth.

"Still distracted?" He whispers.

Ethan can't even think of a proper reply. His brain has turned to mush.

"You…"

"Mm?"

Ethan sucks in a deep breath. "You're a fucking asshole."

Leon throws his head back and laughs, and when he recovers Ethan is already swooping in for another kiss. To hell with professionalism.

[anthemxix]

So... how far did Cia go exactly? I haven’t played hw but I’ve read several fics, and she’s always very... extreme.

hi anon! thank you for your ask!

by “extreme,” i’m thinking you mean stories where she’s a psycho who tortures link or forces unwanted sexual advances on him. which makes for fantastic angst! but that characterization of cia has never felt quite authentic to me.

in the game, she has a roomful of his portraits, like a shrine. that’s extreme. she technically starts a war because of him, which is very extreme, but i don’t think that’s about lusting after him, as people often joke. she says some off-putting stuff, and you could infer that she behaves in an inappropriately “seductive” way, but. she doesn’t really. do anything, like fics might imply. she’s creepy and lewd. i’m sure she makes him uncomfortable as hell. but as for what she does, the extremeness in fics is mostly fan extrapolation.

that’s my short answer! but i kinda got carried away while responding to this, and. um. wrote a lengthy character analysis of cia? XD i thought about not including it, but i spent so much time thinking about/writing this that i’ll go ahead and share.

in my opinion, hw does not present a clear picture of cia, and it skews fan interpretation of her.

(putting this under a cut because it got long 😅)

the story the game gives at the start is straightforward. there's a "guardian of time" (whatever that means) who watches over everything but never interferes. she admires the purity of the hero's spirit. she comes to love the heroes, then to want them. she's lonely. she doesn't want to just watch anymore. she wants to experience love.

gradually her desires become something darker. she doesn't only want the companionship, she wants to possess.

ganon sees this darkness in her heart and causes a split. the darkness separates from her, becomes its own person (a la dark link). the "good" part is lana, the "bad" part is cia.

for ganon, this is all part of a larger plan. in hw, his spirit is divided into four fragments that have been sealed away in different eras. he manipulates cia and gets her to open time gates so he can gather all the fragments together. a key fact: one of the fragments has been sealed away by the master sword, so ganon needs a hero to draw the sword.

cia willingly allows herself to be ganon's pawn because in so doing, in starting a war to force the hero to emerge, she thinks she'll get what she wants. throughout the story, she gives more and more of herself to ganon, fracturing her own spirit further and further, because she is so desperate to claim the hero for herself, to own him. lana repeatedly warns her to stop before she does irreparable damage to herself, but she doesn't listen, and ultimately she...well, dies, i guess. fades from existence. (that's how the original hw ending goes. they added stuff on later that changed this.)

ok, so. we have some interesting stuff going on here. arguably, cia is a tragic figure. a victim even. her underlying motivation is loneliness. viewing it through this lens, the story becomes an exploration of what isolation does to a person. how desperate it can make us. how we become willing to sacrifice anything for love--and i mean "love" broadly, not in a romantic sense. how it makes us vulnerable to manipulation and abuse.

let's also not forget the whole reason she focuses on the hero's spirit to begin with. after witnessing all the atrocities of history, she admires the purity and goodness and self-sacrifice of the hero. it has nothing to do with link being attractive. in her temple (the temple of souls), she has statues of different heroes from different eras, including wolf link and oot/mm link. she is certainly not lusting after an animal or a child, i assure you.

so why does she have frickin portraits of hw link, specifically, (not any other hero's spirit incarnations) plastered all over her walls, if not for lusty purposes? why does she dress so damn seductively? i'm not claiming lust isn't part of it, but i think there's more. she wants to feel surrounded by him, you know? she wants to feel like he's looking at her the same way that she looks at him--with desire. it's delusion.

and holy hell, she's nothing if not deluded. some examples of her actual in-game dialogue: "no matter what betrayals I may suffer, at least I know the hero will always love and protect me." and [to herself, as she's losing a fight] "the hero is still by my side... the hero is still by my side..."

and it's sad. she pretends that he loves her, that he will protect her, because she doesn't have any real love in her life. she doesn't have anyone.

and what's even sadder is that she's condemned to all these feelings and delusions because that's who she is. she is corruption and darkness personified! she's doomed to this lonely hell, to being ganon's servant, to self-destruction.

that's how tragedy, and tragic figures, are defined: hubris. characters that have an innate flaw that inevitably leads to their downfall. that's what a traditional tragedy is.

don't get me wrong here. i'm not saying she had no choice, or that she had to start a war. she can be tragic and we can sympathize with her while also accepting the fact that she's corrupted beyond redemption. morality isn't black-and-white. our understanding of characters, or of real people, isn't black-and-white.

...but. BUT. there is a major "but" here. the game sabotages its own character and its own story. the game opts for the path of least resistance. screw grey areas of morality, screw the tragedy of loneliness, screw exploring vulnerability and abuse and hubris... they sensationalize. cia is a joke.

have you seen her frickin outfit? her character design? she's an uber-sexualized caricature. all those portraits of link in her temple can easily be viewed as a joke, too. "lol, look at this crazy, horny bitch." hell, they even have her say innuendos about the master sword, like, “come show me what your sword can do” or something to that effect. 🙄

it's all very surface level. they don't go deep at all with cia. they give us no substance, only these little bread crumbs of information that i've laid out for you. and not only that, they set this up so that it feeds into old stereotypes. the salient details easily allow us to interpret cia, consciously or not, as an embodiment of feminine hysteria, a woman guided by irrational emotion and obsession, fixated on winning the ultimate prize of a man's love.

so koei tecmo's own confused presentation of this character muddles up fan interpretation and has us falling back on the familiar stereotypes we know and understand. that’s the basis for these depictions of cia as extreme. that’s what fans are extrapolating from when they try to imagine how she might act or what she might say. so in the end, she isn’t really depicted with accuracy. she’s like a caricature of a caricature at that point.

…or at least, that’s my opinion. 🥴

[heyidkyay]

Bones: lovely, lonely.

(TW: Eating disorder, panic attack, mental health. Don’t read if these topics trigger you please.)

The bedsheets cling to my bones.

They drag relentlessly at my fragile skin, skin that looks more like paper now than actual flesh.

I toss and I turn. Hating it. A feeling of sickness that never retreats gnaws at my stomach.

It would be so easy, I think, to get out of bed and just chuck what little is left in my stomach up.

Only, the bathroom seems so far away now. And my body is heavy, weighted. I don’t think I could move it now, even if I truly tried.

I snort into the darkness as the thought of me having to gather up all my weak limbs pools in the front of my mind. I can picture some kind of emergency occurring, a fire, flood of some sort, and me just stuck here, starfished in this unforgiving daze.

Perhaps I could try a few sit-ups though. Right here. Just twenty or so. For some piece of mind.

Except, the mattress has always been too unsteady every other time I’ve tried, and so I clamp my eyes shut instead as another wave of guilt washes over me.

I’m aware now, of how my shoulder blades press against the mattress and how its springs push back at me. I wonder if they’re aware of the sharp jut of my bones.

With a groan, I turn again. The uncomfortable sensation which tickles my back still lingers though. It stays.

I fold in on myself. Draw my knees up to where my shoulders meet my chin and wrap my arms around my legs.

I want to cry. To scream.

But the sounds are stuck in my throat. They burn brightly there.

I breathe instead. Through the thoughts, the anxiety, the niggling worry that seems never ending.

In.

Out.

In-

Now my chest feels too tight.

All the words screaming at me from inside my head have diverted there. They stab at my heart, press against my lungs.

I breathe.

I really do try.

Out.

In.

It doesn’t seem to help. Only makes the heavy sound which escapes me louder, it increases the pounding in my ears.

Is that my heart, I have to wonder, or the blood in my veins?

I know that soon enough I will tire myself out. Either that or I’ll finally have that heart attack I always panic about in moments like these.

You know, it’s the kind of thought that blurs any real reason, any rationality. The sort of suspicion that feels too big to be real and too small to diminish.

I think it could happen tonight though. The heart attack, I mean. Really, I do. It’s just that, my chest aches so much that I struggle to feel the firm hold of my hands. And the nails that dent my paling skin.

The thought of learning to breathe weaves its way through my mind’s maze. Most of us come into the world, kicking and screaming, and we fight for that first burst of air in our lungs. We aren’t taught, we simply adapt.

But, right here, right now. I feel as though I might have to relearn the art. How do people do this so naturally? Do they not feel the rise and fall of their chests? The restriction of their lungs, the beat of their heart, the hefty exhale?

No, I suppose not.

Just like how they don’t see the same numbers I see when I look at my unchanging bowl of soup. When I stir low fat milk into my decaffeinated tea. When I skip breakfast, and then lunch, and now dinner.

I hate maths. Well and truly, hate it. The numbers are just there, behind my eyes, before I can even think better of it. Before I can even pick up the glass of juice or carefully wrapped treat.

I long for something sweet. My stomach doesn’t growl at the thought though: I realise it’s been a while since I’ve heard it even attempt a quiet mewl.

One hundred millilitres of flavoured water, 6.

Half a rich tea biscuit, the light kind, 14.

A slice of brown toast, 55.

A freshly baked blueberry muffin topped with white chocolate sauce and sickly sweet- no.

Too much. I think of,

The sugar.

The calories.

I shake my head. Will away the thoughts. The pictures. The taste.

I can smell it though. As mad as it may seem. It’s in the air. As though someone is slaving away, right now, at the stove downstairs.

My mouth waters.

No.

No, no, no.

A sob breaks free.

Fisted hands pound against my knees.

My bones they drag.

Somewhere, in my flurry of thoughts, I pray for sleep.