#especially the early ones where the cast is still shocked people know the words and the crowd sounds good

[disastergenius]

i don't know what the rules are for fans recording at the liveshow (i'm going to assume little to none?) so I hope that CR records the audience singing Your Turn to Roll

[utilitycaster]

Unpopular opinion: parts of the cr fandom are really dismissive/ reductive of Travis’s characters. It feels like it’s due to Travis being seen as THE cis het man of the group, and by extension his characters must be heteronormative and bad, despite the fact that you could have queer interpretations of his characters. At the very least, Travis’s characters explore masculinity and the different ways it might look. It’s like the people who are all “ew men are gross and shitty” and act like that’s an absolutely normal reaction to a man just existing.

So this is another one in that I agree with the initial statement, but I'm actually not sure re: the reasoning why. I think it's possible but I could not tell you for sure.

I used to, again, think this was people carrying through Campaign 1 elements well beyond the point where C1 had ended, and so Grog having an intelligence of 6 was being applied to Travis; and this definitely does come through to an extent when people treat Fjord (objectively as smart as Beau without her circlet) as stupid or act shocked that Chetney is the brains of Bells Hells or that he can play a Cerrit, Fjord, or Nathaniel. However, again, I think this is one of those opinions that pops up among people who weren't around for Campaign 1 (or early enough in C2 to be exposed to it regularly) so I don't know if that's the case anymore. It could still be - it could be that Approved Fandom Opinions get passed down even when the logic behind them has long since been lost; that's a really common thing in institutional memory. But I can't say for sure.

I also have in the past credited it to, as you said, people assuming his characters are the cishet guys and then writing them off. That's still possible - I've seen both Fjord and Chetney called "token straight" despite considerable evidence of bisexuality, and they also paradoxically are both commonly headcanoned as trans while still getting called "token straight," which sort of ties into a post I would need to find from someone else from quite some time ago about which cast members are granted agency by the fandom in their choices vs. which are assumed to be the victims of circumstance. And I do think that there are people in fandom who have decided men are icky or whatever, and I used to think this came from a place of bigotry and a slide towards t*rf ideology but I now do genuinely think it's just idiots who don't grant interiority to characters outside their own limited understanding.

But I think it's also useful to consider a few things, most of which I've brought up before:

Travis is extremely offline. He is not here to entertain your headcanons; he has been politely but openly dismissive of some (imo, really fucking dumb) fanon/fan theories. I think the cast frequently talks about how it's their table, and I think that's valid and correct, but Travis is one of the players who lives it the most. He is playing this game with his friends, and he'd like it to be a good story, but if you don't like it, he is not here to make you like it. I think that really fucks with the parasocial connections some people desire with the cast.

Travis's characters tend to examine masculinity as a performance but also the general performance of the self, and the fact that you cannot in the end control how you are perceived entirely, and I think that really unsettles people who have equated presentation with reality and are again, looking for external validation of the self.

Travis can play it big but he's often extremely subtle, especially with his more serious characters, and he's not as easily quotable out of context as some others at the table. I think because he is a lot more naturalistic than dramatic at times (Chetney notwithstanding) and isn't as pithy and quotable in his characters as many of Taliesin's PCs are, and a lot of the strength is in the delivery, he gets overlooked despite being very good with words on the fly.

And finally: this would be a whole post on its own but people are still very foolishly wed to this idea that pressing the big red button in D&D is Wild and Chaotic and haha Big ADHD Man when it's actually how you play D&D if you're not a coward; the button is where the story is stored, and a lot of Travis's strength is that he is extremely good at understanding what the GM wants and supporting it with sufficient grace that it's only visible if you know what you're fucking doing.

[taechaos]

A Thriller Film

pairing: director!Jungkook x fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, yandere, smut

synopsis: Jungkook's life is his movies, but people don't know his movies are his life. As an anonymous director, no one can suspect him as the villain in a story, but he leaves a clue in his movie about you.

warnings: smoking, stalking, murder, solo masturbation, public fingering

word count: 5.4k

a/n: i don't know why i put so much effort into this but we love to see it flop 🥰

Smoking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Jungkook noticed you for the first time when a cigarette was hanging off his lips, exhaling the stress from the process of organizing a new thriller film with a less than cooperative crew. Fresh out of high school, you were bright and skipping on the sidewalk in the early hours of the morning. What would such a young woman, applying for colleges left and right, be so happy about?

He didn't know you at the time, but looking at you was like a breath of fresh air. While he survived off of coffee and nicotine, you seemed to have a lot of happiness to share. Your smile was incompatible with his frown.

So he ignored you when you passed him with your earphones blasting a song so loud, he involuntarily caught the lyrics.

Fall... back... in... to... place.

The second time he saw you, he was smoking again and you were just as happy as the day before. How can someone be so in tune with themselves, with life? The same song played from your earphones, the one he listened to on repeat after searching up the lyrics: Space Song. An urge to approach you surged up in him, but he only watched you as you walked past him. A single glance from you was all it took to anticipate tomorrow.

Today, when he recognizes you from your clothing first; colorful, silky, gorgeous. So much personality in one outfit, a polar opposite to his casual black outfit in jeans and a plain shirt. Even your bag is eye-catching, and he flicked the ash off of his cigarette before nodding at you as you passed the bus stop, reaching the front of his studio.

Why did your eyes just widen? You acknowledge him with a friendly smile, and go on your merry way. That is until he lightly taps your shoulder, and you turn instantly.

"Hey," he greets before you can utter a word, "where are you always rushing off to?"

Your lips part in surprise; the man you secretly - guiltily - side-eyed for the past few days noticed you when you weren't looking? "I have an interview. Well, a few," you chuckle.

"For what?" he tilts his head curiously and takes another drag from his stick.

"Career counseling," you plainly reply, but it sounds enthused. "I'm a clueless graduate." Your hands clutch your tote bag before you discreetly check the time on your wrist. You're going to be running late soon.

"You interested in cinematography?" Smoke follows his words, but you aren't fazed.

"I'm interested in all forms of art, why?"

He notices you checking your watch again. "I'm a film director. This is my studio," he cranes his neck behind him. "You can apply for an internship here. Maybe for a stylist even," he points at your floral romper with his chin as his eyes trail.

You shift your weight on your left foot when his stare flusters you, and you consider his flattering suggestion for only a second before saying, "thank you for the offer, but I need to go now," you grimace sheepishly, "can I think about it?"

"Take your time," he reassures with a sly smile and inhales from his stick, filling his lungs with the sweet scent of your perfume alongside.

He doesn't look away when you walk off with a shy wave, entranced by your struts until he's called back in. It's with newfound inspiration that he's inside of his studio.

The storyboard of his upcoming project needs a few tweaks, and he doesn't fail in enhancing his crew with a different idea.

It’s been a week. Okay, it might’ve been shorter, but Jungkook is impatient. Besides, it didn’t help when he saw you holding hands with someone... so less than. It really baffled him to see you with a guy who wore such shabby clothes. He looks like the type that Jungkook would cast for a flop character.

The two of you are like a toy display across his studio in that cutesy, obnoxious café with a smoothie in the middle of your booth. He chuckles as he lights up another stick when he notices the two straws in the single cup. Cliché, cheesy, but cute in a childish sense. Your age shines through the amateur romance between you and that loser.

It especially shows when you look to the side with a laugh and lock eyes with him; so flustered that you gasp and focus back on your date. What makes you so shy about seeing him? You seemed so confident during your conversation two days ago.

He whistles when he notices a stray dog in an alleyway. You look at him as well but don't hear anything beyond the glass wall, but it catches his attention regardless. He whistles again before saying in a hushed voice, "come here girl." It's difficult to suppress a smile when you gaze at him questioningly, as if trying to decipher his words. "Naive little girl," he mouths as he smokes, "what are you doing with that boy?"

He almost chokes when you take out your wallet in front of a waiter; are you paying for him? That's why you ordered one drink - so you could share? Jungkook isn't cruel but, he finds it laughable that your boyfriend is so... unappealing. He can't help but wonder why you're with him; maybe his face? The boy is somewhat handsome, but he only has his facial features to go by. It's rather strange for Jungkook to think about this in the first place, so he gets back inside his workplace after harshly shooing the stray dog away with a stomp of his foot.

"I'd like to start my internship today."

Jungkook runs his eyes up and down your body while leaning against a brick wall. "Paid?"

"I-I'll do it for free. Besides, I don't know if I'll even work in this industry," you twiddle your fingers while smiling up at him. He intimidates you, but this morning you decided you did enough thinking and here you are, an aspiring stylist all of a sudden.

"Get inside," he nods at the door before stubbing his cigarette and following you to his studio. "You know what you're going to do?"

"I'm going to decide the outfits, right?" The place looks cozy to you, with its minimalistic interior design and blunt switch between the stories. The first floor is strictly for business, with lined up cameras, lights and a microphone. There is even a green screen! And the second floor seems to be more of a resting area with its couches and open laptops, but you can't make out much from the entrance. Jungkook starts walking ahead of you, making a beeline for the black stairs. You tail behind him and smile at anyone who notices you, which isn't a lot of people. It's not crowded.

"Right. We're still working on a storyline, haven't finished it yet so it's possible this project might not be published. You with me so far?" he glances at you, and at your firm nod, continues, "when we finish planning, scripting and shit, you come to play."

"So what do I do now?" you innocently inquire and watch him plop down on the red velvet couch. He clicks on the space of his keyboard to light up his screen.

"I have an idea for a character, and I want to know how you would design her," he vaguely explains as he scrolls through his document.

"You want me to sketch it or explain?"

"Let's hear you out first. Irene," he suddenly calls out loudly.

"Yes?" a female responds from downstairs. You see a woman with a grey cap look up at him, her attire nothing short of casual.

"Come here."

She skips a few steps while climbing up the stairs at his command. You're not awkward when you greet her, and she offers a coy smile.

"This girl - what did you say your name was?" he asks you. You tell him and he continues, "she's going to be our intern. I want you to critique her with me."

"What's she in for?" Irene asks before sitting across from him.

"Wardrobe stylist."

Her eyes widen as she takes a second look at you. Your style is definitely unique, but... immature. She has half the mind to not question Jungkook about his choice.

"Okay..." she trails. "I'm Irene, by the way. I'm going to be an executive producer for the upcoming film."

"Nice to meet you," you brightly chirp. "Sir?"

Jungkook smirks at your addressing of him. "Yes?"

"What is your name, if I may ask?"

"I'm Jeon Jungkook, but you may know me for my pen name Shin Dong-hyuk."

Your mouth falls open when you instantly recognize the name. "Wait, what? You directed My Time?" you incredulously wonder aloud.

My Time is a movie that took the world by a storm; it brought recognition to the whole country for its popularity and clever writing. You never knew the name was a pseudonym, however. It's a suspense genre, about the life of a crazed fanboy who is obsessed with a foreign celebrity. He stalks her on the internet, has a fanpage of her and pays a hefty amount of money to strangers to update him on her whereabouts. He's portrayed as a young college student in the story, and inevitably runs out of cash from reckless spending. When she gets into a dating scandal, he goes on a theft spree and flies out to meet and confront her. It ends with her murder when he finds her with another man in a hotel room, and he stabs himself in the heart afterwards. There are a bunch of clues that foreshadow his ending, from his family life to his friendships. It's an amazing thriller, and you researched his name in the credits to find more of his works after seeing the movie but to no avail; there is only one listed.

"That's me," he nonchalantly reveals as if he didn't just give you the shock of your life. "Don't tell anyone though, will you?"

You whimsically put on an imagery zipper over your mouth while trying to recover from your racing heart.

"I don't have a clear outline, but the female lead is going to be naive but charming. She has to stand out, alright? Happy, extraordinary, special."

"We didn't decide on that," Irene butts in with a displeased expression.

"I forgot to tell you, I deleted our previous plan."

"You did wh-"

"What do you think?" he turns to you as he ignores Irene's shrieks. "What color are you imagining?"

You feel nervous when he puts you on the spotlight after revealing his identity. You close your eyes with a deep inhale before answering, "I'm thinking red and green, like Christmas. There should be a hint of white as well."

Jungkook drinks in your outfit before grinning mischievously. "Perfect." All of your colors.

Stalking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Is it such a bad idea to follow you home when it's dark out? He kept you for a long time in the studio, allowing you to dress up a mannequin with all sorts of costumes you had in mind in the backroom. He's certain you had fun with him when you left with a permanent grin on your face.

You live with your parents, and he knows for sure he's at least 5 years older than you. You look about 19, so he's assuming he's only 8 years older.

A small villa with windows all around, he observes, before glancing back at your bedroom. The lights are on and you're swinging your legs with excitement on your bed after you face planted on the mattress. He didn't see you greet your parents before running off to your room, and he can't help the smile growing on his face at your hyperactivity. It was like an instinct to walk you home in secret and he isn't sure why he is still watching you. He should look away when you get off of your bed and heave your shirt over your chest, but instead he steps away from the lamp post to hide from the light.

You're changing, and he can't take his eyes off of you. As if that wasn't enough, you unclasp your bra without even pulling the curtains. Do you know he's there? The thought excites him, and his pants begin to tighten around his crotch. He lowly whistles at you, but you don't hear him again. You do look outside for a few seconds while stretching your arms, however, and he's certain you have a connection to him.

He leaves when you put on your pajamas with the image of your bare tits imprinted on his mind. He doesn't head home first, as the studio is only a few minutes away from your home and he wants to leave you a gift.

When the familiar building enters his vision, he doesn't waste time in unlocking the door and switching on a single dim light. He rushes to the backroom after locking the entrance for a second time and unzips his jeans as he goes. You were here not too long ago, and he can pinpoint exactly where you stood while striding to each corner with purpose. Bending, crouching, leaning, doing just about anything to tease him.

Now that he can imagine your perky nipples realistically, he immediately takes out his length from his restraints and picks up a random handkerchief to pump himself with. He doesn't stop to think over his actions; he's acting on urges, on impulse. Never has he ever done something like this.

He's rather relaxed as he sits down on an idle stool to close his eyes and run his hand up and down his shaft. What he would do to press your tits against his cock while he slides it up and down, smearing his cum all over your lips while you sleep. You would swallow it without a second thought once he finishes in your gaping mouth, and wonder why there's a dull ache in your breasts the next morning.

His breaths grow shallow the faster he strokes himself, the more he thinks about using every part of you for his pleasure while you're knocked out cold. He involuntarily thrusts into the air while quiet moans slip out of his open mouth. Something about how taboo it would be to fuck you while you're unconscious turns him on so much. Would that be something you're into?

The handkerchief is so soft, so silky against his length, he can almost imagine it to be your hand. He starts twisting his hand around his cock, from the base to the tip as his other hand palms his balls before he begins to reach climax. Strings of cusses fall out of his mouth when he quickens his pace, the fabric against his skin resounding in his ears before he finally spurts out his cum into the cloth.

"Fuck," he exhales as he coats his makeshift glove with his release. White on white doesn't make much of a difference, and he's panting as he folds the handkerchief to rub it evenly so it sinks in completely.

He leaves it on the stool after zipping his pants, and his eyes twinkle under the moonlight on his journey home.

You aren't alone when you walk to work. Jungkook is taking his usual smoke break while watching you swing your interlocked hands back and forth with the guy next to you. Your smiles exude the same aura, and Jungkook sarcastically notes how compatible the two of you are. The boxy grin shines with the sun, but it doesn't hide the boy's worn out clothes.

"Good morning, Jungkook," you greet before introducing your boyfriend. "This is Taehyung, Taehyung meet Jungkook. I'm going to be under his wing until I decide my major."

"Hello, Taehyung," Jungkook coldly says before blowing smoke in his face.

Taehyung scrunches his nose before chirping, "hi!" He then turns to you and whispers, "I thought you wanted to study medicine."

You shake your head dismissively with a light laugh before responding, "it's just an internship." You let go of his hand and bid farewell with a peck on his cheek before going inside the studio.

"Well, have a good day," Taehyung smiles as he's about to leave before Jungkook holds out his hand to block the way.

"Taehyung, who is your girlfriend?"

"Um," he furrows his brows before saying your name.

"And who are you?"

At Jungkook's blunt question, Taehyung pauses and takes a step back. "What do you mean? Like my full name?"

"No, who the fuck are you? What is your contribution to society? What do you do for a living? What are you wearing?"

"Sir, I-" Taehyung's stammering is cut short when Jungkook asks, "how much money for you to stop leeching off of her?"

He scoffs, "excuse me? I'm not leeching off of anyone, and I'm sure as hell not breaking up with her for your money." Taehyung's face heats up from the shameless confrontation, and he starts walking in the opposite direction.

"So you're not going to leave her?"

Taehyung doesn't turn to look at him as he emphasizes, "no."

"Good."

He abruptly stops in his tracks. "What?"

"Your dedication is admirable," Jungkook comments with a shrug. "I'm satisfied with your answer."

"Were you testing me?"

"Bingo."

He starts chuckling before shaking his head. "I always knew directors were crazy; you scared me for a second."

"Where you headed now?" Jungkook smoothly switches the subject, but notes the fact that you've spoken about him to your boyfriend.

"I have a farm two blocks away." When Jungkook raises a brow, he explains, "I stayed the night with her, so I decided to drop her off before leaving."

"Want me to drop you off?"

It's a kind offer, really, but Taehyung is still put off by the insults thrown his way just a minute ago. Doesn't he have work to do anyway? "That's alright, thank you, but I'll just take the bus. Have a good one, Jungkook."

Jungkook doesn't stop him as they both wave goodbye. He doesn't bother putting out his cigarette before going inside.

Where would be a farm only two blocks away from the city center? It has to be a lie.

You're wandering around the place as to not awkwardly wait for Jungkook who sharply inhales at the sight. He calls your name.

"Yes?"

"What do you want to become?"

"I," you look at him funny with a laugh, "I still don't know."

"Then take a gap year."

Your brows shoot up to your hairline. "Why?"

"I want you to be invested in this project completely. Once the planning is finished, I'll give you a salary. What do you think?"

He's asking you to work full-time for him. Not as an intern, but an employee and you are beyond willing after only being here for two days. He's a famous director; how can one pass up this opportunity?

"I'd love that."

You noticed that Jungkook has a very unique way of working. You've heard that he's been keeping his crew until late at night, already having an outline for his plot and he's moved onto screenwriting. He apparently disappears randomly throughout the evening after you leave, and you've had some different experiences with him of your own.

He asked you to steal from the wardrobe of his backroom. "Take everything that you'd wear," he said before stepping out of the room.

When you confusedly compiled all of the clothes that caught your eye under your arm, he took them from you and brought them upstairs with a huge grin. "Keep that one," he pointed at the handkerchief you thought about lacing your neck with.

Taehyung's quiet with you. He doesn't respond to your texts, doesn't call you, doesn't come over. You're too busy spending time with Jungkook to check up on him, and it serves as a well distraction when you keep glancing at your notifications. It hurts, especially when your wallpaper is a picture of you and him. It hurts because he isn't with you in your proudest moments when you were with him even at his parents' funeral.

The only thing keeping you happy is casting. Jungkook asked you to make a list of all the actors that would suit his characters after giving you a vague description of their traits. The budget isn't an issue, and you're having so much fun. He makes you forget your worries without even trying.

Jungkook intimidates you, but he's so lovely.

A mere "aspiring" stylist is casting actors for a movie. How many people can brag about that? You almost stumble on the stairs as you quickly climb up with Jungkook's laptop in your hands. He gave it to you for research purposes as he drew a rough storyboard with Irene.

"I made a list," you exclaim brightly. Heads shoot in your direction and you sheepishly grin at your volume. Jungkook's eyes linger on your covered neck; it's almost like a collar.

He whistles and beckons you to sit next to him. You obey and anxiously present your list to the professionals; you have no idea how to go on about this task, and no one guided you. You're certain you look utterly amateur in front of them.

Irene is inspecting your list without hinting her thoughts as Jungkook asks, "who are your favorites?"

"Well, I think Kim Namjoon is um, suitable for the male lead's role and Joy-"

"It's decided then," he claps his hands twice without hearing out Irene who scowls at him.

"You're not cooperating with us," she voices in a complaint, "why are you always calling the shots on your own? These are major decisions-"

"Ms. Bae, don't take any offence now. I'm taking your opinions into accounts when I make these decisions. Unless you have an issue with something, let's not dwell on this, hm?"

She sighs as you stand there awkwardly. She's upset, but stays silent.

"The two leads are Kim Namjoon and Park Soo-young. The team will decide the rest of the cast, thank you," he informs you with a ghost of a smile.

"Of course," you breathe.

You don't know how long it is supposed to take to shoot a film, but surely it's not this fast paced. Jungkook is relentless with his production; there are hardly any breaks in between takes. There are bags under his eyes from pulling all nighters to work on his scripts.

He is a perfectionist and a hard worker, as you've come to find out. You feel bad for the amount of times the actors recited their lines when they didn't capture a scene right in Jungkook's eyes. It was an honor for you to meet these famous people beyond a screen, and you were strictly ordered to do Joy's makeup only. You are her stylist, but the professional one does help you after she's finished with Namjoon's.

"Cut," Jungkook says into the speaker. You're located in a rented mansion outside of the city, but you can't enjoy it when everyone is so stressed. "Start over from line "he's leeching off of you"."

Even actors can't hide their annoyance from having to do a 25th take of one scene. Jungkook pays them enough to go on with this torture however, so they have no room to complain.

They start over and you force yourself to watch them again and again.

"Oh my god, cut!" You can hardly resist groaning yourself. Everyone on set is overworked, and you know the director has it the worst, but it's overwhelming you too at this point. You flinch when your name is called. "Act Joy's lines, will you?"

"Me?" you point at yourself in surprise.

"Go ahead," he urges with a nod.

You have no idea how to act, and it's nervewracking having to do it in front of A-listers. You pick up the script handed to you from another woman and start reading:

"He's not leeching off of me," you pause to inhale shakily; your hands tremble from the heavy stares on you.

"I'm his family, the only one he has left. No one would know if he was gone, and he trusts me to look after him without having to dangle a dollar bill over his head."

This goes on until the final scene, and the retakes cut down to half.

A few months pass, and it is time for the premiere. The movie, simply titled Pretty Girl, easily got a green light for display in theatres, and it's been heavily promoted on YouTube and TV. You are excited to your core, and watching the celebrities walk the red carpet was a first for you. Jungkook easily blends in with the crowd as he once again didn't reveal his real name in the credits, but his pen name is gaining more and more recognition. You have never seen the movie throughout the editing procedure, but you can't wait to see everyone's efforts show on the big screen.

You're dressed fancily because Jungkook asked you to go with him, and the two of you are sitting in the crowded theatre with not a single empty seat to be seen. Even the entrance is decorated in retro style to fit in with the movie's theme! The jazz music playing in the halls reaches your ears, and your knees are bouncing in anticipation of the movie. Jungkook is smiling as he listens to you ramble.

"I can't believe I played a part in this whole project!" you gush with shaking fists. "I met the best director I know, and I worked for him! This all feels like a dream... No one even likes my style, and yet I became a stylist!"

"I love your style," he denies, "even now you have all the attention in the room."

"Pfft," you roll your eyes playfully, "they all think I must look weird. I tried to wear something classy so I don't stand out, but it hasn't been working out."

"Keep it that way, you're beautiful like this."

Heat creeps up to your cheeks at his compliment and you squeak, "thank you."

He doesn't get to relish your flustered state as everyone goes quiet once the movie starts.

The time period is unclear, as the language is modern but the filter is black and white. The first scene is in a bar, a man in a suit eyeing a woman with a date who is an outcast with his clothes. They're washed out and ugly, but he looks handsome with his dazzling smile at the woman.

An involuntary grin spreads across your face when you hear their dialogue.

"I want to touch someone's shoulder to see how they react. Did you see how they looked at me when I walked in here? I think they think I'm your sugar baby or something," Jimin's character jokes with a laugh.

"I know! They're all so boujee, but I'm willing to be your mommy without sugar," Joy winks. They have fun until Jimin leaves to the bathroom and Namjoon's character approaches her, who has been staring at her ever since they walked in. Joy is offered a modeling career, and she accepts after she's told that her fashion only works with her because of how beautiful she is. She's bashful when Namjoon gives her a business card.

Jungkook's film is only over an hour long, but everything is timed so perfectly. His directory is straightforward, and you admire his work until a song comes on.

"That's my favorite song!" you whisper into his ear. It's Space Song by Beach House.

"Mine too," he whispers back.

There are montages of photo shoots, Joy's rise to fame in the modeling industry, but the trouble is Jimin, her boyfriend. Namjoon confronts him one day when Jimin drops her off to her new workplace.

"How can someone so poor be able to court a woman like her?" he asks rhetorically.

"Excuse me, Sir?" Jimin is offended until Namjoon laughs it off and reveals it was a joke. The audience sighs in relief, and all is fun and games until Jimin is brutally murdered next to a dumpster. You gasp at the gore scene and glance at Jungkook, until something dawns on you.

The story is starting to sound familiar. Was this movie inspired by your encounters? Your eyes light up as you give your utmost attention to the movie. The line between reality and fiction is beginning to blur.

Joy goes to Namjoon's house, where the dialogue you first reenacted comes to play. The shots are gorgeous, the script filled with metaphors on poverty and currency, and the romance is sickly sweet. There is a sex scene not long after... Joy forgets all about her boyfriend in the snap of Namjoon's fingers.

You tilt your head when you remember Taehyung. Where is he? How come your boyfriend didn't even show up to this life-changing experience?

Jungkook's hand slides over your thigh out of nowhere, as he murmurs, "do you mind?"

You stammer when his fingers reach under your dress to poke at your panties. "S-Sorry?"

"I said," he grazes your folds as you tense at the feather light touch, "do you mind if I touch you, pretty girl?"

Your chest heaves as your lashes flutter in a daze, but you nod nonetheless. His low raspy voice already has you clenching your thighs, unintentionally trapping his hand against your pussy. He's gentle, almost curious with the way he runs his fingers over your silky underwear before he moves it to the side. You're shivering with delight and thrill, and you don't take your eyes off of each other as he begins to flick your clit carelessly.

"Looks so pretty on you," he compliments the makeshift choker on your neck. It's his handkerchief you wore for the occasion, unaware that it's dried with cum. He pulls on the knot like it's a collar, and you're entranced. Your pants fan his lips at the close proximity, and he doesn't shy away from slotting his mouth against yours. You quietly moan into the kiss when his thumb starts to rub your clit, and his long finger pokes at your entrance.

"You mind?" he murmurs against your lips, his words slightly slurred as he doesn't stop kissing you. The wet noises are drowned out by the loud volume of the movie, but you can't focus on what's going on.

"I don't," you breathe before he slips in two fingers, exploring your walls with precision. He's multitasking as he circles your sensitive clit, and you're not very experienced in regards to sexual encounters but your hand lands on his hard-on anyway.

"Don't be shy," he chuckles into your neck, "touch it."

You don't know what you're doing when you slip your hand under his pants and palm him over his briefs, but his sigh is encouraging you. You're touching each other in a room of 100 people.

It's embarrassing when his free hand joins yours to help you touch him while simultaneously fingering you. He must have sensed your lack of confidence, because he starts to stroke his erection over your hand. You start to imagine his fingers as the real thing, and with your particularly low stamina, have a hard time suppressing your whines.

"Kiss my neck," he suggests as a solution to your nibbling. You didn't even realize your nether lip is bleeding from how hard you were biting on it. You bury your head in his shoulder and start pecking his neck. He holds back a laugh at how shy you're being, and he feels proud for predicting this moment perfectly in the movie. Joy is having the time of her life with Namjoon, unaware of Jimin decaying in the attic.

He quickens his pace in your cunt, and you bite him rather harshly at the sensation. He hisses with a chuckle; he likes it when you're impulsive. He can pick up the squelches from his thrusts because of how wet you are, and you climax all over his fingers in a matter of seconds with a whimper. You're twitching in your seat, and your hand strokes him faster but he stops you.

"In my studio," he says and you nod tiredly against his shoulder. The issue isn't that he doesn't want to cum in his pants, but the movie needs to become reality. He wants to fuck you on that one stool, with Taehyung's corpse decomposing in the backroom.

Jungkook always adds a pinch of fiction to his stories, but they're mostly based on true events. If you paid attention to the ending, maybe you would've realized that.

Lying is bad, but there are worse things in life.

[mochikeiji]

Come Home

↠ Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

↠ Warning: anxiety attacks, pregnancy, manga spoiler! chapter 91 (for those who have not read)

↬ Word Count: 2k

If death was giving you a sign at this very moment, it would be the cold ticks each second the clock on your empty apartment room echoed. Each second comes an outbursts of numerous emotions. On the first tick sent shivers on your skin, the second felt like small pricks of hair slowly rose up as goosebumps followed after, third was the frantic tapping of your foot on the carpeted floor as you bounced your leg.

On the outside, you would've been labelled as overreacting. On the inside, you were slowly dying.

As of now time felt like a never ending torture. It was a tug of war between trust in your husband or the one in your gut; a battle between mind and heart, to whom should you choose to believe in? How long do you plan on standing at the edge of the cliff not knowing the faith that has been laid out for you and the most powerful shaman? To whom do you concede to?

A critical position for you to be in. If Gojo were here beside you, not only would you have to wince at the feeling of his finger flicking your forehead, but also a round of uncharacteristic scolding about how bad it is to be stressed out or anxious because of the growing life inside of you. Well, none of this wouldn't have happened if he didn't left. But as all married couples are out there, you are one of the majority that did not want to tie their partners down from what they were meant to do. Especially if your partner is the most needed person in the world.

You couldn't tell him not to go out. Not out there on the field you've come to grow as a sorcerer yourself. The deaths of your fallen comrades and innocent civilians, the demands of the elders and powerful clans. Most of all, being part of the theatre death had directed. No one knows who'd be next to live another day or to be at forever slumber. And your husband was one of the main casts in this scene. Someone who'd always be near death's door only to keep taunting the horrifying God.

It was all fun and games before. It was either ride or die with Gojo during your youthful days. But as time progressed, and the upcoming family you both had dreamed of was at its peak, from that moment every thing came crashing down. It wasn't hormones anymore. It wasn't simple.

You were beyond terrified.

"Please come home."

Not even realizing you were already kneeling down from the couch you were seated, hands clasps together hard, the veins prodding out as if they were going to pop. A silent mantra of pleads to the unknown world you were stuck in. Chest heaving harshly, tears and snot mixing as they fell down the cushions. You didn't feel them. You couldn't see anything.

There was no way to describe the gaping hole that had swallowed you to your deepest depths of fear.

"Come home, Satoru.."

Was the last thing that had been uttered out from your lips before the dark hushes turned into soft cooes. The once imaginary prickly like nails that was scraping your body changed into gentle strokes on your back and onto your bulging stomach.

If there was no way to describe your fears, what is there to be said for the immense heart break of your own husband coming home to see you knelt down with cascading despair written all over your features? The image of the cheery, and powerful woman he's had of you now haunted by what he had came home to.

Though Gojo never had the brightest personality to everyone, he would trade every thing he has if it meant for you to be pulled out from where he had dragged you in.

He knew from the start loving you would mean a lot. You were every thing he wanted and yearned for in life. The love he always came home to. Cursing his naive self of erasing the fact that you were only human.

You had your limitations and this was it.

"Hey, wifey, shhh." the warmth of his breath next to your ear made you choke a sob. Having his body shield your smaller one from behind with his hands now trapping your still clasped ones. "I'm here, I'm not going any where. Not now or ever." his white hair tickling the side of your cheek as he rubbed the side of his face onto the your tear stained ones. If there was one thing everyone knew he was good at, it was being overly affectionate. Not that you'd complain.

His thumbs massages the back of your hands, smoothing down the veins in hopes of easing your grip. He should probably thank Yuuji for passing out hours ago, if not he'd be still stuck training the young lad and have you deal with this torment possibly longer. Even so, he was glad he had manage to finish up early. At your 7 month of pregnancy he wouldn't dare take longer. He didn't like being away, he never did. Always cursing at those who demand his presence. All he wanted was to stay home with you.

Home where everything is safe.

"Let's get you up, kay? May I carry you?" it was a shock on how uncharacteristically cautious he's become ever since your pregnancy. No one knew the Gojo Satoru knows when to tone it down on situations. It was all heart warming, you wanted to cry.

You gave him a small nod, feeling your body hoisted up from the floor and nested on top of his lap with ease. Never failing to amaze you how you managed to marry this man. The man you'd devotedly pray to the heavens would come back to you alive.

As his arms finally settled on your waist, moving at an upward then downward motion, he rubs your sides. Slowly coming to the globe of your stomach with a soft hum, he watches you deeply with a soft gaze behind his interfering blindfold.

Sighing shakily, you shifted your position a bit to the side, allowing yourself to lean your cheek on his left pectoral, listening to the rhythm his heart beat, sobs died down into sniffles and hiccups. You twiddled with his fingers placed on your stomach. The anxiety inside you barely disappeared, but tamed for the moment.

A light peck on your forehead was placed, snapping you back from the little world that had consumed you, down back in the arms of your beloved husband as he smiles and wipes away the left over tears, "Hi there, honey."

Focused on the warmth his palm emits, you reached out over his covered eyes, sliding away the blindfold, freeing the captivating azure gaze he possesses as they held nothing but love piercing back to your teary ones. His hair framing his adorning features, yet so perfect and lively he was smiling at you. The image of this man you wanted to wake up to every day. To welcome, to smile with, to live, and to love.

"Satoru.."

Cupping your cheeks in worry, the serene peace disappearing from him when his brows furrowed with his lips frantically hushing you. Parental instincts kicking in as he eyed your stomach in wonder how your dear child was holding up with the mountain of negative emotions crowding you, "Honey, you need to stay calm. Our little bun in there might have trouble baking you know?" he whispered close to your lips, foreheads leaned onto yours.

"Oh, Satoru." a broken smile formed from your quivering lips, "You're home, you're home." thumbs coming close to stroke his lids softly down to his cheeks. Fragile, that's how you'd describe yourself in touching your husband. Every day from the moment you lived with him are days you two cannot be separated from each other's lingering touches. Even so, on those days it still felt like it was too good to be true to have each other embraced away from the terrors of the world.

"I'm home, I'm home." sealing away your sobs with his lips to yours, letting you feel all of his emotions and unspoken vows within the action of only you two could share forever. The love he never knew he was capable of only for you and your child to be gifted of.

"I'm scared." pulling away as you shut your eyes. The dark hushes returning, coming back to haunt you of what is in store for tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and so on. The strings attached upon you two, unknowing who was in control of your faiths. "Satoru, I'm scared. Please don't go anymore."

Confessing all of your troubles, he tightens his hold around you. Not a chance, he curses in his head would he allow himself to be defeated so easily and submitting himself to the awaiting gates of death.

"What if you don't come back to me anymore?"

Not a chance, was he going to die after happiness is just within his reach. Longing for something so surreal his entire life. He wasn't going out without having a taste of the sweetness of he now calls home in his life. Not ever. Not when he knows he's the strongest and will continue to reign as he is.

"Honey loves, I'll always come home to you." a vow he seals with the gaze he has locked with yours. The golden band that was proudly worn on his finger from his left hand above your stomach, "I'll always come home to you both, my sweet loves." a vow for only the two people in his life that kept him going. He will always keep his word by heart.

Though it was known that it wasn't enough to fully assure you. The comfort of today was much appreciated and needed for you to finally sigh out one last bit of the sadness, and giving him a teary smile.

"I love you, Satoru."

A melodic sound his heart would crave for every day. Definitely another thing worth coming home if he could hear it again and again.

Smiling mischievously, he reciprocates the feeling by stealing another one of your kisses whilst cradling your body and stomach. He wonders how long would it take for your baby to come meet him. He could hardly wait anymore.

"I love you more."

Was the last thing he had said before his eyes shut close to bask in the warmth and safety of his domain. His and yours little domain. One day to be shared with either a mini you or him between your arms, erupting small giggles into the air.

He couldn't wait to come home to that very day.

Not to wake up another second.

Or was it a minute?

An hour?

He couldn't tell. For time was unpredictable inside the realm he was kept imprisoned.

"Oh, another dream."

An old memory he has with you over months ago.

A breathy chuckle comes out. Was it another thing to mock him of his moment of weakness? Where he could do nothing but lay down and wait for he knows nothing of what could and what was happening?

His bones were on fire. The caged rage inside of him waiting to be freed as he could hear the cackles of his own enemies having to won over him.

"Come home to me."

No, they have not.

The fight was still going. He knows deep down as his faith on his beloved students remains strongly as his love and promises to you. Somehow, some way, he will get out. Like before, time is the enemy. He could only hope that you're holding up for the mean time. It was only matter of time you would be giving birth as well.

And he wasn't planning on missing out the biggest part of his life.

Nor was he planning on letting his enemies run free easily. They were going to pay.

He was going to pay.

"I'm coming home. Wait for me."

Thus begins the string of faith as every thing is set into motion.

© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^･^=)

[strawberry-lemonade-kisses]

Enough

The water rippled with each rock you threw, creating patterns that would continue no matter what obstacle they came across. You wanted to be like them, strong, forever going forward. Why did things keep getting in your way? Why couldn’t you just be happy with what you have and move on? Was it you?

“Y/N?” a hesitant voice called your name, timid as it approached you. “You're back early, where's Tengen?” Hinatsuru walked up to you, her long black hair braided and hanging over the front of her clothes. She had a basket of pears, freshly picked from the trees you all had so delicately planted. After years of marriage, after years of being with the four of them, somehow, they always knew when something was wrong, you hated it. Why couldn’t you just wallow in pity sometimes?

“He never showed” was all you said, turning to go back to the main estate, ready to lock yourself in the office you had been gifted, full of unwritten journals and blank pages. The books you had started but never finished. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to be held by her, or any of your wives for that matter. They were such a comfort, always warm and welcoming, always knowing. But they weren’t the ones you wanted to be loved by; not right now.

The door clicked as you locked it, the hard wood you had installed for privacy instead of the sliding shoji doors the rest of the house had. Everyone knew you liked your isolation, it's where you grew up, where you became the person you are today. The memories of your childhood home were fond, always happy. Even when Tengen and the girls showed up, begging for warmth and a hot meal after a particularly long battle in the snow. You fell in love that night, with all of them. You yearned to be part of it, to feel wanted and loved by them. You wanted to stop the fights makio and suma had with small caresses. To ease Hinatsurus worries with soft kisses. To help Tengen with words of affirmation, of love.

The ink smeared as your tears hit it, spreading around the pages like a crazed bull. You moved back once you realized what you were doing, burying your face into the crook of your elbow, catching the escapees.

“This is stupid” you mumbled, wiping harshly at your eyes. You shouldn’t feel like this, so useless, so unloved. Even after all this time, why did it seem like you weren't enough for him? Why him? The restaurant owner's words rang in your ears, an unwanted invasion.

“My dear, you are so young and beautiful, there are plenty out there to choose from, don’t stick around for this kind of treatment” The elderly woman left with a smile, taking the coins you left her and disappeared into the back. You had to leave after that, she knew, everyone knew. You got stood up by your own husband. You groaned, head falling forward onto the desk as you let the tears continue their dance of freedom. After a few minutes a hard knock broke you out of your misery, slicing through the cloud of sadness you had built.

“I’m coming in” The door rattled as it was unlocked, creaking open to reveal the last person you wanted to see. His face had already been washed, silver hair draping over his shoulders, still damp from his soak. He wore a hesitant smile as he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him.

“What do you want, Tengen?” You turned away from him, a desperate attempt to hide your tear stained face, the one he was trying to see. He let out a sigh, moving away from the door as he sat on the other side of your desk.

“I came to apologize. It wasn’t right of me to forget about you, especially when I was with Makio a few days ago” He sighed. “I didn’t mean to. It was a mistake, things have been getting busier at the main estate. But that still doesn’t make it right, to neglect you like I have been” He reached across the desk, grabbing your hand that rested on it. “I’m sorry Y/N” You pulled back, turning to glare at him as you retrieved your hand from him.

“Flowery words are what you offer me, Uzui? Am I supposed to accept that? You have been out with everyone, even the other slayers. But you have to forget me?” The tears continued to flow as you spoke. “When will I be enough for you Uzui? When will I be enough for you to actually acknowledge me as your wife? I married 4 people, not 3. You always forget about me, Uzui, why me? Why am I not good enough for you? Why would you ask me to marry you if you didn’t love me? If you didn’t want me? Do you pity me? Feel sorry for me? Am I that pathetic?!” You rose from your spot, pushing the table forward in your anger. “I don’t want to be cast aside like this, I am not a toy.” he sat back in shock, Yukata shifting with him as moved away from the table.

“I didn’t know. I thought. You always make it seem like-”

“Like what Uzui? Please go and tell me what I've done wrong for you” You scoffed. “I’m going back” You wiped at your face for what seemed like the tenth time, marching out of the office, hopefully out of his life.

Hiinatsuru sat in the kitchen with Makio and Suma, a plate of sliced pears sat between the three of them. You stormed into the kitchen, throwing yourself onto the shoulders of the wife closest to the office, Suma. The shock on her face quickly faded as you shook on her, crying into her Shirt. She held you, softly cooing as she blinked back her own tears. It always hurt her to see anyone else in pain, to see someone cry like this. You sat back, tears cascading down your face as you addressed the three of them.

“I’m going to go stay with Kanroji for a while, I just want some time to myself and she always welcomes me. I love you guys, I will make sure to write.” You gave a half hearted smile, taking a shaky breath as you stood from the floor, from the warmth of your loved ones. Maybe once you got your own bearings, then you would feel whole, complete. Maybe you would be enough for yourself to love too.

[tj-wrote-things]

𝐇𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝗼

Nikolai Lantsov x fem!Grisha!reader

Based off of this ask

A/N- Hey besties, this is kinda late,, and i hate it but only a little bit. Can you guys like -stop requesting arguments??? pls its breaking my heart.

Mega thanks to @itisroe e for being my editor and shoulder to whine on :)

*Id like to take a moment to say that Nikolai is a bit of a dick in this one, and id like to reiterate that its never okay to invalidate or insult a so. I dont condone that type of behavior, im just writing it

enjoy:)

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If there was one thing Nikolai Lantsov knew how to do, it was pout. You caught him— more than just a few times— slouched over on the blush red couch with his arms crossed, face smushed into a scowl as he studied you packing your bag.

You sighed, casting an increasingly irritated glance at him as you folded the coarse cloth of your winter coat and tucked it away with the rest of your belongings. The weight would be too much to bear, but you knew it would be cold up north where you were headed alongside Zoya and the Bataars. 

“I’m leaving at dawn, whether you like it or not, Sobachka.” 

The King looked away briefly at your words, hating understanding that you were right. He hauled himself out of his seat and redirected his sulking to the world outside the large window. It was beautifully blanketed in steadily falling snow. 

“Will you really make our last night together a bitter one?” you commented.

“It wouldn’t be our last night if you’d just let me come with you,” Nikolai huffed. 

You exhaled, dreading that this would be the third time you had this discussion, which, in his world, was more so a debate.

The reason was simple: Nikolai had no business accompanying them. The objective of the mission to Fjerda was a peace treaty between the Drüskelle and the Grisha populous. As Nikolai fit neither category, it had been decided that he would stay back and continue to hold the country together.

“We’ve been through this: to bring more people on the expedition would only irritate the Fjerdans. Especially, the king of a country with which they’ve been at war for a considerable amount of time,” you reiterated. 

Nikolai shook his head again, unwilling to accept it. He refused to welcome the fact that the love of his long life would be away and in perpetual danger for weeks. 

The wind whistled as it bounded against the window, filling the room with a violent creaking.

“It’s dangerous, Y/N, why can you not understand—” 

You cut him off swiftly as his voice began to rise, “You watch that tone, Lantsov, or I’ll—” 

Now, it was Nikolai’s turn to cut you off: “You’ll what? Leave early?” The young man turned to you from the window and met your incredulous gaze. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. We both know it's your only vice.”

“My only vice,” you mocked cynically. “In what regard?” 

Nikolai spread his arms patronizingly as if he were explaining the obvious to his childhood self.

“Your heart craves adulation,” he said, pointing a sharp, accusatory finger your way. “You’ll take any opportunity to leave Os Alta— leave me— and flaunt your gifts.” 

Your heart thudded heavily in your chest. In anger or despair, you could not tell.

You would not lie to yourself. You knew with all your heart that, all things considered, your mastery of the Small Science was a blessing, hidden behind the mask of a devil. In the days you served faithfully in the Second Army, your gifts were revered and you were respected in the highest regard amongst your Grisha peers. However, in the years following the war, you became like everybody else. 

It was at the behest of your husband that you progressively began to use your power as an Inferni less as the days passed. Ever the political mastermind, he had approached you one summer evening and begged you refrain from using your power in public, claiming that the presence of a Grisha Queen was too much for his fragile country to bear. In the beginning, you had agreed, for if there was one thing that surpassed your love for your husband, it was your shared love for Ravka.

You knew that relations between the Grisha and the others were strained, and so you agreed, taking your husband's hand and promising to limit the displays of glowing orange flames which had burned your enemies as well as warmed the hands of your allies. 

It was becoming increasingly difficult to train behind a closed gate, under a roof, beneath the watchful eye of First Army guards armed with fire extinguishers. In fact, it had grown so stifling you had begun to resemble Alina Starkov when first she came to the Little Palace, with her pallor skin and brittle locks.

You brushed the aforementioned hair, now soft and healthy from the effects of tailoring, behind your ear as you placed the brush down and sharpened your stare at Nikolai’s face, shrouded in silver shadows from the icy light of the moon.

“Craves adulation,” you grumbled, knowing that if your voice rose any higher, it would betray every emotion storming around your heart. “Have a look in the mirror, Nikolai, and tell me which of us truly fits your description.”

His description, in all its insulting glory, fit Nikolai Lantsov to the tee.

Nikolai Lantsov, who would smile and wave to a crowd with a Sun Summoner on his arm, allowing you to watch with disdain from your place on a horse beside Mal. Nikolai Lantsov, who would hide behind a pair of gloves to escape the truth of what he had become. Nikolai Lantsov, who had pushed his wife into a state of sickness, albeit unknowingly, sacrificing her life’s blood for the sake of his country.

Nikolai Lantsov, who resolutely shook his head, running a hand through the already dishevelled hair on his head, before waving it dismissively, as if swatting a fly. “Please. You’d flick your hands for anyone who’d ask— if they clapped hard enough.” Nikolai moved for the bookshelf, drawing out a novel as if his words were mere small talk with an old friend.

Your anger blurred to shock. “Flick my hands—”

“Honestly, you take every opportunity to flaunt it. I’m surprised the Little Palace is still standing after having you inside for twenty years!” 

There was no sense to his vile declarations now. Though, Nikolai could not see it. The anger, betrayal, and frustration at being left behind were all that clouded his boyish mind as he hurled one unkind word after the other.

“Nikolai,” You moved towards him, arm outstretched, eyes beginning to water. “Lapushka, please—” As your hand approached his, the storm heavier than ever. He wrenched his arm away from you, leering his head back to look you in the eyes.

“Truly, I can’t be sure why you haven’t left already.”

“For saints’ sake, Nikolai. Look at me!”

The dam broke as you flicked your hands, removing the tailoring to your appearance, unveiling the truth of your restrictions.

Nikolai stared with an open mouth and hard eyes as the warm winter flush of your cheeks was replaced with dulled skin, and the sleek shine of your hair was redefined with a brittle and unkempt bush.

“The only person from whom I crave adulation,” you whispered, “is the only man who’s too thick to look past a wavering mask.”

The Lantsov King swallowed, flipping the book restlessly in his hands. “Y/N—”

“Get out.” You left no room for him to argue, even when he opened his mouth once more. “I said leave!” You stalked to the door, pulling it open with a loud shriek of wood. “Now.”

Nikolai Lantsov, who spent the night in a guest room, in a state of perpetual regret.

No amount of tossing and turning brought any comfort to his aching heart, nor his pounding head. He flopped halfheartedly in the guest bed, stiff from lack of use, and from lack of you, revisiting the disgusting words he’d spat. The reason for them, however unjustified, sat heavily on his chest, suffocating him at an agonizing rate.

Nikolai Lantsov, who was afraid that— like his mother and father— you would grow to resent his blood, resent it for its stark difference to yours. The fear that you would  regret your marriage to what your people called an otkazat’sya: the abandoned.

The King figured it was only a matter of time before the title served him fully. 

It was reasonable, wasn’t it? To lash out at a time of vulnerability? Nikolai couldn’t be sure, having grown up in a family of despots who had never given him the time of day when it mattered most. 

Watching the tailored facade fall from his wife’s face, Nikolai was reminded solely of his mother, who, like you, was coerced into moulding her face into that of the perfect queen, at the behest of her husband. He knew then that all he had said and done was wrong. Wrong to her, and wrong to her people.

How could he bring himself to apologize? To walk into their bedroom and beg forgiveness? Would she forgive him? Even if he stooped— a king in tears and on his knees for the woman he loved perhaps more ardently than the country he vowed to govern— would she, in all her scorned glory, crouch beside him, take his face in her hands, and kiss away his regret?

Could he expect her to?

Dawn came around all too swiftly, rousing husband and wife from their fitful sleep in separate rooms, and with it came your departure to the northern lands.

You stood side-by-side with Nikolai as the carriages were loaded with provisions, luggage, and gifts for the Drüskelle, refusing to look at him. Instead, digging fruitlessly in your shoulder bag as an excuse to keep your head down.

The call came from the footman as the time arrived for you to leave. You didn’t make it more than one step forward with your hand gripping the leather strap of your bag before a firm grasp was on your waist.

“Wait,” whispered Nikolai, tugging you back. He cast a glance at the guard, letting him know that they would need a moment. “I can’t let you leave— not like this.” 

You held your gaze to the floor. Gently, he tilted your head back up with his thumb and forefinger. “Not now, not when you can barely look at me,” he continued. You held his stare as his hand shifted tentatively towards your jaw. “Not when I can’t be sure you won't come back to me, Milaya.”

You sniffled softly at the nickname, moving your own hand to his face and pausing to tuck away a loose golden curl.

“Please come back to me,” he said softly as if he were sharing a secret. There was an unspoken apology apparent in his reddening eyes while the seconds ticked by.

“Of course,” you murmured back, tipping his head down as you pecked his brow, then his cheek. “Nikolai, there’s not a thing in this world that could keep me away from you.”

You kissed him soundly, your hand running across the expanse of his jaw as he leaned into the tender forgiveness settled in your palm. When you broke apart, Nikolai took your hand from his face. He kissed your palm and walked you to your carriage. The King watched with concerned eyes as you took your seat.

Nikolai kissed your hand once more from his place on the ground and looked up at you. “Swear you’ll write,” he said. “Or I’ll crash the proceedings.”

You barked a hearty laugh, squeezing his hand as he tried to let you go. “I will,” you promised. “And I’ll see you when I come back.”

It was another moment before you let go of his hand. His palm hit the carriage door bearing the Lantsov crest. You watched as the carriage travelled further and further away, Nikolai’s frame disappearing into the horizon. 

“I promise,” you whispered.

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[pwarkluv]

❝ electric love ❞ - pjs

park jisung x reader | fluff | 2k words

WARNINGS | lowercase is intended, too fluffy because it’s my fav genre to write about, kinda strangers to lovers au, idol au, idol!jisung, itzysixthmember!reader, I’M SO SORRY TO MY CURVY AND THOSE TALLER THAN JISUNG READERS y/n is called small and tiny in this fic (i still love you though), mentions hair color but just pretend it’s dyed like lisa’s hair in the hylt era, shy!jisung and shy!reader because y’all are babies who don’t know how to approach someone who you like

SUMMARY | when itzy and nct dream meet on weekly idol, one member of itzy catches a certain maknae’s eye.

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by “electric love” by borns :P yes it’s a tiktok song but it’s a good tiktok song so bite me >:( i disappeared for a bit so enjoy this trash imagine because i lost the will to write for a bit. also not edited really well i’m sorry for mistakes :(

your palms become sweaty as you nervously sit in the chair, the makeup artist diligently working on your face. wannabe came out about a month ago and the overwhelming popularity and support came flowing through, especially with ryujin’s shoulder part in the beginning. 

itzy’s fandom grew and so did the group as a whole, the six of you continuing to learn more about being an idol. 

but the one thing you were lacking in was interacting with other idols. 

itzy debuted in early 2019 giving you guys a little interaction with others like your brother group, stray kids. but when the whole pandemic hit, causing you all to isolate in quarantine to protect each other, talking to others outside of your company became rare. 

you were extremely awkward when it came to other idols. sure, you could talk to fans. you knew how to act and talk to them since that was a part of your training. but talking to idols, another person who wasn’t a fan, was different. 

unfortunately for you, on the episode of weekly idol you are about to appear on, another group was going to be present. and of course they just had to be one of your favorite boy groups of all time: nct dream.

you’ve always looked up to nct as a whole, but nct dream has always been your favorite because they were young when the six, originally seven, first debuted. you were twelve when you saw their debut stage. dancing has always been a passion of yours. it made you feel free and alive. music has always been a part of you as well. you taught yourself how to write songs and produce them, even releasing music on soundcloud under an alias. 

so ever since you saw nct dream debut, you decided you wanted to be an idol too. three years later and you’re in itzy, and you wouldn���t have it any other way. but now that you were going to be in close proximity to the people you’ve looked up to for so long, even talking to them made your head hurt. 

ryujin bumped your hip teasingly as the six of you prepared to go on screen, knowing how you felt about nct dream. she was casted during a got7 fansign so when she first met them after her debut, that girl was a statue (though she would never admit it). 

“don’t worry y/nnie, i won’t mention your crush on park jisung.” ryujin slyly said before moving to escape your wrath. 

“ryu!” you whined, trying to smack her moving body. your face flushed, the heat rushing to your cheeks at the mention of the older boy. though you’ve never said it outloud, you’ve always had a thing for the maknae of nct. how could you not? he’s tall, polite, has a really good voice, and is the main dancer just like you. his style and the way he moved was beyond impressive, causing you to fall for him even more. 

the girls found out about your so-called “crush” (quotation marks to make you feel better even though you’re head over heels for him) when you saw nct dream in an award show. yuna saw the way you blushed and how your eyes strayed to the tall then pink haired boy a couple tables away from the six of you. since then they’ve all teased you about it whenever they can, making you whine in embarrassment every time. 

you shakily wipe your hands on your outfit, a stylist making a sound of disapproval before you turn to give her a small smile. moving towards a small mirror, you examine how you look with a worried face. your pale blue paper bag jeans were slightly baggy and you cringed knowing you were gonna perform wannabe in those. you adored the flowery top you had on though. it was white with tiny black flowers printed all over, the puff sleeves adding to the look. your hair was slightly curled, the blonde highlights peeking through from your jet black hair. 

you let out a worried breath as the management ushered you to hurry. showtime, you thought to yourself as you anticipated for the words “action”. 

in the middle of the room was the iconic white stage where weekly idol have always held their episodes. on one side was itzy waiting to enter and on the other was nct dream. 

“today is a very special episode for we have two awesome groups joining us today!” one of the hosts exclaimed excitingly, adding on to your nerves. lia sensed your distress and reached to give your hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“give it up for the hottest girl group of their generation, itzy!” the other host yelled before the six of you partied onto the stage. each of you had an excited expression on your face as the two hosts continued on before introducing nct dream.

“let’s warmly welcome one of our favorite teams to have on this show, nct dream!”

your heart raced as you saw the six of them walk on stage goofily, trying not to laugh at how awkward jisung looked. as if he sensed your eyes, jisung’s gaze met yours causing you to look away in shock. suddenly the floor became more interesting than the boy you’ve been crushing on for almost a year. 

“all in us! hello, we are itzy!” the six of you greeted towards the screen. unknowingly to you, the boy you were caught staring at was looking at you too. 

❝ baby you’re like lightning in a bottle ❞

jisung likes to think he’s a simple boy. he doesn’t like breaking the rules and is mostly a good kid. but gosh from the moment you two made eye contact, the brown haired boy was ready to run away then and there. you were pretty. like beyond pretty, and he’s never felt this way before.

sure it was a little creepy and slightly concerning for his image seeing as he currently has heart eyes for you while the cameras are rolling, but jisung couldn’t help himself. that flowery top of yours made you look soft and small, as if he could scoop you up in his arms like a child. jisung knew he was tall but dang, seeing you from afar made him think he was extra tall. the boy chuckled under his breath seeing you wear boots, knowing that gave you an extra boost.

she’s so small, he thought, smiling a bit.

renjun nudged him, noticing the younger was spacing off before following his eyes to a certain member of itzy. the elder smirked a bit as they all did their introductions.

“to the world here is, nct.” 

the boy smugly looked at their maknae who was currently blushing at being caught by his hyung for looking at you.

young love, renjun thought before turning his attention back to the hosts. 

❝ i can’t let you go now that i got it ❞

“so you guys have two main dancers in itzy right?” one of the hosts asks as the 12 idols sit together on chairs. yeji nodded and spoke up.

“yes it’s me and y/nnie but y/n’s a better dancer than me.” she replied, pointing a shoulder to you. you quickly rebutted and waved your hands in disagreement.

“no way~” you denied, turning red. “yeji unnie is the best.” you replied shyly, an awkward thumbs up to try and back up your claim. 

everyone cooed at your shy face. although you were the second youngest in itzy, 4 months older than your maknae, yuna’s much taller than you which made you look like the youngest. because of this everyone, including yuna, tended to child you because you were just so baby. 

“weren’t you a part of a highlight reel?” the other host asks you, once again embarrassing you. the girls laughed, the other six boys looked at the host in confusion.

“y/n unnie was apart of bts sunbaenim’s love yourself highlight reel!” yuna exclaimed. although she too was in the highlight reel, yuna always thought you were much cooler because you got selected for your dancing skills. 

everyone gasped in surprise (the hosts a bit more fake since they already knew that) at the revelation. 

“i was able to dance with j-hope sunbaenim and jimin sunbaenim for that highlight reel.” you responded, smiling a bit at the memory. the boys were beyond shocked knowing this must meant you were good. 

“how was it?” a host asks.

you marveled at the thought. “they were such good dancers and really really nice!” you said with a happy expression. “i would definitely love to dance with them again if i were given the opportunity.” the look on your face was clear you loved dancing and loved working with the pair. 

“can you show us the dance?” the host asks and just like that you immediately become a shy mess.

“o-oh um i mean yeah i could do that.” you stuttered as chaeryoung softly pushed you off your chair and into the middle of the room. she smirked a bit at your timid form, knowing what she’s doing. from the moment you walked in, the maknae of nct seemed to be head over heels for you and she knew he was the main dancer just like you.

i swear if they don’t end up together after this i’m suing, chaeryoung thought as she looked at the starstruck boy watching you expectantly. 

❝ and all i need is to be struck ❞

jisung wasn’t surprised to hear that you were one of the main dancers in itzy but to hear that you worked with bts’s j-hope and jimin? he was beyond impressed and (though he would never admit it) was lowkey really excited to see you dance. 

he watched as you timidly walked towards the middle of the stage, calming down your nerves. jisung watched with a faint smile until the music started playing, and just like that he was a goner. 

❝ by your electric love ❞

the way you moved, your technique, your facial expressions. everything was mesmerizing. the whole room watched in awe as you danced to the routine you burned into your mind as a trainee, knowing that this was one of your biggest projects ever. in that moment jisung completely fell for you, and everyone in the room except for you knew that. 

“and that’s the end of today’s episode of weekly idol!” you all cheered with the hosts, jisung’s heart beating fast knowing he wanted to talk to you after this episode but not knowing how to. 

“cut!” the director yelled out, a little excited to know what was to come. they of course noticed jisung’s lovestruck expression and the way your eyes lingered on the boy, and of course they didn’t catch it on camera. knowing you two were young and idols, they didn’t want to ruin what you two might have since they were all rooting for you two. 

“if you don’t talk to her i swear i’ll tell her embarrassing stories of you.” donghyuck threatened. just like the others, he too noticed jisung’s attraction to you throughout this whole episode. the boy’s eyes widened in shock, yelping as chenle pushed him towards your way with a small smirk. 

“unnie no.” you cried out, beyond terrified as you watched jisung walk towards you. as soon as the episode ended you were pulled away by the girls who quickly explained to you that jisung “had the hots'' for you (ryujin’s words, not yours). 

your mind was going at a million miles per hour, heart racing as jisung came closer and cleared his throat.

“h-hi.” he said, his voice never not taking you by surprise. jisung was towering over you, looking down at you nervously.

“h-hello.” you smiled and jisung could’ve sworn he melted just a little. 

“get together already!” lia and jaemin yelled out together, making the two of you blush and unconsciously lean closer. 

❝ electric love ❞

“wanna hang out sometime soon?” jisung asked, his sudden confidence taking you and him off guard. you bit back a smile before holding your hand out. 

“give me your number.” you replied, jisung’s smile he let out making you fall even more for him. 

[tokoyamisstuff]

This Is New For Me

Loki x Reader

Summary: Life on Asgard can be straining - especially if the God of Mischief has taken a liking to you.

Warnings: Loki being so terrible at flirting it physically hurts, bullying, this got way angstier than I initially intended

Words: ~2800

A/N: I’ve written this trying to distract myself from personal problems, but honestly I can’t think straight rn. Dunno I kinda hate how this turned out but here you go I guess...sorry.

Loki Odinson must really despise you.

No matter how often Thor would stand up for his brother and try to justify his behavior, there was no other explanation for you other than that he must truly hate you with every essence of his being.

In the beginning, having been invited in the palace to train magic under the Allmother sounded like a once-in-a-lifetime chance - yet all that’s left from your initial excitement had been replaced by pure annoyance.

Lately, whenever you knew that you had to attend class with that certain raven-haired prince, your insides would churn before you even arrived.

Weeks have turned into months, never once ceasing his condescending remarks or childish pranks. Of course, he wasn’t called the God of Mischief for nothing.

All nine realms had tales to tell about his sheganinans - yet with you, he seemed especially invested. There was not one encounter where he could leave you at peace, always ending with you being victim to his wicked humor. 

The man did not seem to respect you at all - and it made you furious.

Today, you’d show him just what you were capable of!

“Greetings, great Allmother.” Polite as always, you bowed deeply in front of your queen, her magnificent presence still making you jittery beyond belief.

“No need for formalities, my lovely student” she responded heartily, only making you admire her even more - until a loud, exaggerated sigh cut through the calm atmosphere.

“Her again?” There he stood, maintaining his defensive pose as he rolled his eyes at you. “Mother, why would you keep on bringing a lowlife like her to defile this holy place?”

This was probably the millionth time that Frigga apologized deeply for her son’s behavior, and you were always amazed by her patience with him. How could a person so formidable end up raising such a troublemaker?

But then again...if she believes that there is good in the God of Mischief, then so would you.

“For today, I have prepared a spell that can only be cast by two mages at once”, Frigga explained, while Loki would still not bid you a single look. “So throughout this lesson, you will need to work together to succeed.”

Irritation was clearly visible on his face - and if you were perfectly honest, you weren’t really fond of that idea either. Yet if it was your scolar’s wish, none of you would protest.

“Spontaneous creation of complex concepts puts a huge stroll on one’s mind and body, so do not be frustrated if it doesn’t work within the first try.”

The idea was simple: Create a blooming meadow in midst of the palace floor, since creating life would be way too complex - only masters of the sorcery arts could take this spell to completion.

You and Loki were now sitting on the bare floor in front of each other and only now you realized how tense he had become, sweat dripping from his forehead and biting his bottom lip.

Was your presence really so terrible that he couldn’t bear with it?!

“Hey” you whispered, taking his hands to form a ring just as instructed “Don’t worry, we’re gonna get this!”

“I don’t need your encouragement...” he spat between gritted teeth, now that you noticed his palms were just as sweaty as his face seemed to be.

One second. Two, tree...fourty....a hundret and two...

“Relax” Loki repeated to himself as if it was his mantra - but now, with your fingers entangled in his? Sheer impossible.

Distraught, he shot his mother a desperate look, just for her to point  towards you, sitting cross-legged and seemingly completely relaxed.

Since your eyes were closed, Loki took this chance to observe every detail of your face, without having to fear that you’d notice his little infatuation.

By the norns - you were as fair and bewitching as always. So way, way out of his league. An unreachable, vigorous being. No angel, valkyrie or similar could ever reach up to you - at least in his eyes.

Was this what they called love at first sight? Loki only knew those sentiments from novels he always ridiculed before he got to know you.

Slowly and steadily, Loki aligned his breathing pattern with yours, picturing the cycle of energy the two of you formed. Carefully, he began infusing you with his magic, trying his best to allow yourself do the same to him.

Another minute passed by and you were finally able to let your magic flow through each other’s bodies entirely, like a serene stream.

With things being like this, he felt so different from the Loki you knew.

His magic was strong, indeed - but so gentle, warm and somehow comfortable to be coated with. You wondered-

“HEY!”

As soon as Loki slapped your hand away, breaking the cycle, all of the flowers that had previously bloossomed through you would wither in an instant.

“What the hel do you think you’re doing, you mewling quim?!” Loki shoutet as loud as his lungs allowed him to, while his mother’s face distorted in second-hand-embarrasment at her son’s choice of words. “Who do you think you are?!”

“I-I’m sorry, I just-” You only wanted to scan his emotions through the magic bond you shared, just peek under the cover for a mere second - what was he so afraid of you to find?

“Know your place, woman!” The god pointed at you before he rushed up, ignoring the ache in his heart as he saw your face contort in sadness. “You are beneath me, never forget that!”

Why were you even surprised?

“You’re right” you sniveled quietly as you balled a fist in your dress, and Loki hated himself so much that he wished to just disappear. “My apologies. You don’t have to put up with me ever again.”

As always, instead of fighting, you made your leave without ever fighting back.

Frigga’s pleads for you to stay and talk this over were all for naught when you rushed away, muttering curses directed towards youself rather than anyone else.

Instead of scolding her son, she’d punish him through her silence, furiously shaking her head as she rushed away as well.

Why did he always have to ruin everything?!

The God of Mischief was very well aware that whenever you were close, his mind went completely blank - and that made him panic.

Never before he had felt so goddamn vulnerable in front of anything, terrifying him beyond belief.

And Loki loathed that feeling: Losing control over himself, being reminded once again how alone and  unloveable he is, facing a goddess as stunning as you are every single day.

So he concluded it to be best to cope like he did all those millenia: Cover up those insecurities, shove his anxieties in the back of his heart and protect his heart from anyone coming close.

Good thing you believed that presumptupus, disoblinging duplicity of his to be his true self.

That would make it easier for the both of you, having as much distance as humanly possible. Vicinity could become dangerous terrain.

Yes, he would only save you some time - it would be a waste if you would try to actually give him a chance, just to be let down by what kind of disappointment he truly was.

But it wouldn’t end here - since the only way Loki Odinson first and only communication was through causing mischief.

A scream of yours startled the servants early in the morning, with your personal maiden being the first to rush to your side.

“Milady, wha-” She stopped in her tracks as she saw you standing in front of the mirror, touching your scalp in disbelief, where everything had been cut short.

That was it. Enough of it!

Dismissing the servants, you took a scissor and tried to at least make an acceptable hairstyle out of the mess he had made, before you would leave to the royal garden.

“You!” Pointing towards Loki, innocently sitting on a bench to watch the sunrise, you screamed and let a strand of hair run from your fingers to the floor. “You did this!”

“Now relax, would you” he chuckled, wearing his smug grin like a trophy as he defendingly held his hands into the air. “You should be grateful, it looks much better like this.”

Next thing he knew was the feeling of your backhand, mercilessly crushing against his collarbone.

Usually, you’d be shocked at yourself, for you had never been a person to choose violence ever before - but right now, you were too full of anger and hurt to even realize.

“You conniving craven pathetic worm!” you exclaimed, breathing heavily as you swung yet another fist towards the prince - however, he grabbed your wrists, trapping you in his hold.

In his life full of wrongdoings, he had been called worse than that - yet still, hearing insults coming from you of all people shot arrows through his heart with every word escaping his lips. Not that he’d ever admit, though.

“It was just a little prank.” Loki would’ve never thought that his actions would affect you this much. “What are you so worked up about?”

“All this time I believed there could be a good person beneath all that...but now what?” The compassion you detected in his eyes were only upsetting you even more. “You are a selfish, cruel and terrible person, and I gave up on you.”

Loki let go off of you, staring at you in disbelief:

You actually believed in him, all this time?! That was impossible!

If anything, the Odinson had always believed you to ignore his existence completely, if he wouldn’t use such drastic measures to attract your attention.

“Wait a second, I-”

“I hope you know that you deserve to be alone...” you sniveled, turning around to face him one last time before you fled the scene. “And you always will be.”

Several minutes had passed until Loki had given up in silencing he voices inside his head that told him you were right: He was indeed a despicable being, tainting your pure goodwill - repelling anyone that would still be willing to give the God of Mischief a chance.

Out of a whim, he jumped up from his place, wanting to rush after you. He was very well aware that he was probably beyond forgiveness by now, yet he at least wanted to make things up to you - even though he had no clue where to start.

“Calm down, Lady Y/N.”

Thor’s voice drang to Loki’s ears just a mere second before he saw that particular heart-wrenching scene unfold in front of him:

You were lying in his brother’s arms, crying to your heart’s extend while soothed you, softly petting what remained from your hair.  Loki remained hidden in the shadows, even though his guts told him to stab his brother right here and now.

“My brother...you know-” The God of Thunder was trying to find the right words, even though poetic speeches were not really his forte. “It’s just his speecial, twisted way of interacting. Who knows where he got that from.”

“I rather wonder if he realized how his behavior truly makes me feel” you snapped back, unwilling to keep defending him. “Weak and worthless, that’s how I feell. And every time our ways cross, he’s making it worse!”

By the gods, Loki never wanted to make you feel that way, let alone think such ways about yourself! He of all people, who knew best what its like to feel unfit and nowhere near enough.

Loki grabbed the fabric of his shirt tight, feeling that his heart might burst if he didn’t. It took everything in him to not let out a loud sob and be caught - but then, his brother snapped him out of it with an impossible question:

“Do you still love him?”

“L-Love might not be the right word, I mean-” Lately, you had let Thor in on your secret admiration for his younger brother. “With the way he’s treating me, and all-”

You just couldn’t help being drawn to him against all reason. After everything you had endured, just to be close to him - and he never even acknowledged your feelings.

And still, here you were, crying over a man that didn’t want you.

“Lady Y/N?”

Loki’s voice made you panic, immediately wriggling out of Thor’s embrace. The Odinson understood immediately, nodding towards his brother before leaving the two of you alone.

“Since when have you been standing there?!” Panic dropped to your stomach, wondering just how much he had heared.

“From the very beginning.”

Before you could even think about what to do now, Loki summoned a dagger, cutting off his raven locks in one swift move. “Wha-”

“Please, accept this as means of apology.” The man now dropped to one knee, humbly facing the ground. “I have never intended to make you doubt your most perfect self.”

Frantic, you were scanning his voice, face, anything for the slightest hint of a lie - but nothing. Loki seemed determined and sincere when he looked up to you, hesistantly taking a hold of your hand.

“This is new for me...” he uttered under his breath as his lips graced your knuckles, and only now you realized that he was trembling ever so slightly. 

“I-Is that another trick?!”

“What kind of vicious being do you think I am?” Well, after everything he had commited it was only natural of you accusing him. “There are lines not even I do not cross.”

Only for a brief second your heart felt a little bit lighter, as his eyes were locked with yours, lost in this moment you have been waited for so long...

...a little too unexpected, right?

Suddenly, you tugged your hand away, and Loki could only sigh in frustration. Of course it won’t be that easy for him to gain your trust. “I don’t need your pity, Loki...”

No matter how he racked his brain around the matter, he had burdened your shared past probably beyond the point of repair.

That would be his last chance, maybe the last time he’d ever see you again. He was so desperate in his attempt, and yet - what else could he do?

So for the first time in millenias, the God of Mischief decided to speak from the heart for a change:

"Y/N, I-I...As I said, this is new for me, so...” he cleared his throat before continuing, stress literally dropping out of every pore. “From the first day we’ve met, you...I mean...you were the most magnificent being I ever laid eyes upon, and...when I think about it now, I-I may be enarmored with you.”

Your eyes widened at this wholeheartedly confession, a sincere smile playing on his lips in contrast of sole tears running down his face.

Never before you had seen him like that: Flustered, vulnerable, and honest...

“I thought to be unworthy of your affection, so I tried to belittle you, to...I don’t even know. I’ve been told many times I am quite assertive of anyone but myself. I-I mean, I am a mess...I don’t understand my own feelings and thus drive away any chance of happiness, and...how could you ever-?”

“Mhh...” you silenced the man as your lips crushed over his, falling straight into his arms. It took Loki quite a second to fully grasp the situation before deepening the kiss, his arms wrapping around you as if you’d disappear if he was to ever let go.

“Y/N...” the prince gasped when your lips parted from that breathtaking kiss - and this time it was you who wore that thug grin on your face.

"Apology accepted” you giggled, just to smother the face of this flabbergasted man in yet another thousand smaller kisses.

This had to be a dream, he thought...and immediately, a wave of guilt washed over him. He did not deserve this in the slightest.

“Now, don’t give me that look.” Cupping Loki’s face in your hands, you gifted him that heartwarming expression he had ignored for so many years, thinking it was not meant for him. “That kiss wiped my memory from everything you’ve done...by now.”

Out of sheer, genuine happiness, Loki leaped from the floor and excitedly swirled you around in his arms.

After another kiss that would kick the air right out of your lungs. the god would peck a more gentle one afterwards, as sweet and tender as no one ever thought he could be.

Even if it’s gonna be a long way, Loki would prove to be worthy of your love.

“Lady Y/N...if you are to believe in me, then I swear I will be on my best behavior from now on!”

"Let's see about that."

[shihalyfie]

Regarding Konaka’s influence on Tamers (or how much he actually didn’t have)

(Rest assured that if you’ve had a conversation with me recently about this issue, I’m not vaguing you; this conversation has come up a lot in the last few weeks, especially in my private chats, so this is just me deciding that I should write something about this for once since it’s been weighing on my head lately.)

I think, right now, with what happened regarding the DigiFes debacle, a lot of people are having complicated feelings about how to feel about Tamers, and this is completely understandable. I think there are also some things that may be inevitably unavoidable, such as starting to second-guess certain nuances in the series and what they might lead to. All of that is perfectly reasonable, and in the end, it’s going to be up to everyone to decide how they feel.

In light of this, a lot of people have been bringing up the fact that, while Konaka was the head writer, he was by no means the only person working on it. This is very much true, but I’d like to add something else to the equation: this is an issue that goes much deeper than the usual claiming death of the author for the sake of sanity. The full picture is that Konaka has always had much less influence on the series than the fanbase tends to attribute to him. Official statements have been very clear as to not attribute the entire series to him, and, among all the other controversial statements he’s made, Konaka himself has at least been very active about crediting the other staff members as far as their influence on the series! The idea that he was the only person who ever did anything substantial for Tamers is something I’ve been warning against since long before any of this happened (if you want proof, I have a post from April with this sentiment in it), and right now we just happen to be seeing what’s basically the worst possible outcome of the fanbase constantly worshipping him like the only real creative heart behind the series to borderline cult-like levels...when that’s never been true, and has resulted in unfairly taking credit away from people who deserved it.

I’ll go into detail below, and I hope this can help people understand the situation better and sort out how they feel about it.

Note that I make references to his infamous blog in this post, which I’m deliberately refraining from directly linking for obvious reasons, but all of the information is still there, so it should be verifiable if you decide to look for it yourself.

Personally, I’ve always found it really bizarre how there’s been this obsession with portraying Konaka as some kind of auteur whom the entirety of Tamers depended on. I’m not saying this out of spite towards him, because, again, even he himself was very insistent on disclaiming credit for things he wasn’t actually responsible for (he was quite humble in this respect, actually). Not to mention that I think it’s a mistake in general to constantly pin a single person in a multi-person production as the sole heart behind it, and the Digimon fanbase has historically had this strange double standard behind it when it comes to uplifting him as the only heart behind Tamers when nobody says that about any of the head writers for...anything else. (How many times has Nishizono’s name ever popped up when talking about Adventure? People are usually more obsessed with talking about Kakudou or Seki.) Konaka’s work is certainly distinctive, but Tamers had a lot more going on besides just that.

In fact, based on his own statements on the matter and all of the other official information we’ve gotten about Tamers production, while you can’t really quantify such things, it’s generally been estimated that Konaka was responsible for something like only a fourth of the series. Which is an incredibly low amount compared to what the fanbase would have told you before all of this happened, because of this fixation that he must be the genius mastermind behind the whole series. Not only that, this “brilliant auteur” image of him was so inflated that people were attributing way more of 02 to him than he deserved; 02 episode 13 was the only thing he contributed to the series and he was specifically brought on as a “guest writer”, and the overall plot of the episode was determined by the rest of the production staff and not him -- but ask the fanbase and they’ll tell you stories about how he invented some grand planned arc for 02 that got cancelled, or even that Tamers exists because of a “writer revolt” from him and other writers not being allowed to do what they wanted. (You know, as much as I understand 02′s a controversial series, it would be really nice if people didn’t make up completely baseless stories like this just to scapegoat it...)

I honestly cannot emphasize enough how much of the problem we’re in right now has been horribly enabled by the weird pedestal the fanbase has been putting him on. This is to the point where there’s even been a double standard where some of the more unpopular/criticized elements of Tamers must not have been the fault of a brilliant writer like him, and in fact was forced on him by the executives (this excuse had always been brought up anytime someone doesn’t like something about Tamers, just to make sure the image of him as a perfect writer was maintained). Turns out, as per his own admission on the infamous blog, while he wasn’t the one who initially had the idea of putting Ryou in, the part that rubbed the fanbase the wrong way -- that he came in as an accomplished senior who was better than everyone and played up by everyone in the cast -- was unabashedly his idea (he apparently was enamored with the idea of having someone like Tuttle from the movie Brazil). Again, this is a weird scenario where even Konaka himself has been more humble about this issue than the fanbase’s perception of him; he fully admitted whenever he had trouble writing certain parts. For instance, he doesn’t actually like writing about alternate worlds, felt they were out of his comfort zone, and only wrote in the Digital World because the franchise needs one; he’d stated that if he’d had his way, the Digital World arc wouldn’t have come in as early as it did, which might be a pretty shocking statement for a Digimon fan to hear.

If you want even more specifics, here are some extremely major parts of the series that Konaka was not actually the one behind:

The character backgrounds. Konaka stated on his blog that he wasn’t interested in going too much into character backstories because he felt it was too plot-limiting to say that a character is the way they are thanks to something in their past or background (basically, he cares more about plot than character for the most part), and that he’s also not into worldbuilding. Certain things like Ruki going to a girls’ school were supplied by Seki, who infamously loves worldbuilding, family backgrounds, and character settings.

Certain nuances of Ruki’s character, especially the part where she’s pigeonholed into uncomfortable places due to being a girl, were informed by Yoshimura Genki, writer from Adventure and one of the head writers of 02 (who eventually would go on to create an entire career out of feminist cinema).

According to the posts on his blog, Impmon’s character arc didn’t have much input from Konaka himself and was largely written in by Maekawa Atsushi (also a writer from Adventure and one of the head writers of 02).

The whole concept of Yamaki being redeemable in the first place was something Konaka didn’t originally plan for; he’d initially intended to make him a straightforward antagonist, but, of all things, his Christmas song, combined with the input of the other writers (especially Maekawa) humanizing him, led to the development where Yamaki eventually changed sides and became sympathetic. (This makes Konaka’s recent stunt revolving around Yamaki a bit painfully ironic.)

The director, Kaizawa Yukio, was deliberately picked because he didn’t have experience on the prior series, for the sake of changing things up, and he spent Tamers as a period of studying what Digimon should be like. Based on what he’s hinted, it seems Konaka's writing style and choices were able to have as much influence as they did because Kaizawa approved of them -- that is to say, Konaka’s detailed imagery and descriptions were extensive enough that Kaizawa could go “sure, let’s go with that.” But in the end, nothing Konaka did would have gone through unless Kaizawa and Seki (among many others) didn’t also approve of it or provide input. Moreover, Kakudou Hiroyuki (director of Adventure and 02) has also been stated many times to have been a valuable consultant on invoking Digimon so that the new staff could understand what to aim for and how to get the right feel (and also assisted with providing stuff for the mythos, such as the Devas). Nevertheless, Kaizawa also seems to have had his own strong opinions and input on the story; he especially seems to get passionate when it comes to the topic of making the story something the kids watching it could relate to and imagine. (He would eventually go on to direct Frontier and Hunters, along with several episodes of the Adventure: reboot.)

So in other words, looking at this, a lot of these things that people emotionally connected to and loved about Tamers are things that literally were not his personal creation, and were largely contributed by the other writers! Of course, Konaka’s “creator thumbprint” is very obvious -- he was the head writer, after all -- and all of this had to go through his own vetting to make sure he personally liked it as well -- but nevertheless, you can see that this very much was a collaborative effort from head to toe, with him being very open about this fact himself. Insisting on making sure that this fact is well-known isn’t just a coping mechanism to try and remove his presence in the series, but rather a desire to get people to seriously stop giving him credit that really should be going to others (especially since, again, even he himself was very diligent about assigning that credit).

In the end, I’ll leave you with another thing to keep in mind: Konaka doesn’t get paid anymore for Tamers work (unless they make something new like the DigiFes thing), so continuing to buy Tamers merch and supporting the series through fanart and such will probably end up going more towards the Digimon IP as a whole. Basically, if we’re just talking about Tamers specifically, what degree this is going to matter is only really relevant to the content in the original series, which is now twenty years old and remains unchanged. By Konaka’s own admission, he wasn’t into all of these conspiracy theories until 2010 at the earliest, so while it’s understandable to be a bit wary about the themes in Tamers having traces of the base sentiment, the original series itself does not seem to be an outlet for alt-right propaganda, and it’s probably forcing it a bit much to read into it that way. Konaka’s also repeatedly insisted that all of his attempts at a Tamers sequel have been rejected and that he’s been doing increasingly strange swerves to get around members of the original cast not entirely being available, and the Japanese audience has turned out to not be very fond of the contents of the 2018 drama CD and the stage reading for reasons entirely separate from the politics, so it’s also unlikely we’ll be getting a Tamers sequel from him or something in the near future.

So -- at least for the time being -- what’s done with him is done, and the remaining question is how all of us feel about Tamers. I think everyone will have differing feelings on it, and that’s perfectly understandable. Personally, given everything I just said above, I’m going to continue treating it as a series very important to me, and one that many people (including, as it seems, a very different Konaka from twenty years ago) worked on with a lot of effort and love, although you may see me getting a bit more willing to be critical about the series and its themes thanks to my concerns about some of the sentiments in it and what they imply. I also completely understand that there are probably people whose associations are going to be much more hurt and who will have a much harder time seeing the series the same way ever again, and I think that’s reasonable as well. But at the very least, going forward, I hope all of us can understand the depth of this situation, give credit where it’s due, and not force credit where it’s not due.

[new-sandrafilter]

How Timothée Chalamet Channeled The Blockbuster Pressure of Leading Denis Villeneuve’s ‘Dune’ Back Into His Role – Venice Q&A

DEADLINE: In a few days Dune will premiere at the Venice Film Festival. You first met Denis Villeneuve about the role in May 2018 and started shooting in the early half of 2019. It was always going to be a long journey, but the pandemic stretched it even further. How does it feel to have finally arrived at this moment?

TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET: You know, I like to think that with every film I’ve done, whether it’s Call Me by Your Name or Beautiful Boy, The King, or Little Women, the character you play is almost a piece of your flesh. And that’s always true, but simply from the perspective of how long the shoot for Dune was, and also the arc that Paul Atreides is on, as well as the huge love and almost biblical connection that so many people have for the book and the original film, it really felt… tectonic, if that’s the right word for it. Just getting to this finish line feels like: phew.

And independent of what the film is now, and what it has become, the experience of making it was I was put in such a safe environment, which you can never take for granted as a human, as an actor, but especially when you’re just starting your career, and when this is the first film of this size you’ve ever done.

To get to work with Denis on it, to get to work with someone of his caliber, let alone on a book that he considers the book of his youth and one of the things he has connected to the most… When he would have it in his hands on set, his body language would become that of a fan; of a kid who had fallen in love with the book at home in Montreal. And when all the kids around him were wearing hockey jerseys with their favorite players’ names on the back, this was a kid wearing a jersey that said ‘Spielberg’ on the back.

For it all to come together, especially with the added challenge of the pandemic, it has all combined to make this moment feel especially spicy [laughs].

DEADLINE: The entire ensemble will show up in Venice.

CHALAMET: Right. And I just can’t believe it; Jason Momoa has the number one film on Netflix right now with Sweet Girl, which I just watched. And since we shot, Zendaya has had all this success with Euphoria and Malcolm & Marie. Just to be part of this cast, period, let alone as one of the title characters, it’s really the shit you dream of.

And let me not forget, too—and I know I’ve told you this before—that The Dark Knight was the movie that made me want to act. That movie had a score by Hans Zimmer, and he has done the score for Dune. And it’s almost not what you’d think. It’s totally appropriate and excellent for the movie, but he has somehow managed to do something subversive, in my opinion. It’s a pinch-me moment all over.

DEADLINE: So, take me back to the start. Is it true you had a Google alert set up to track the latest news on this project before you were ever cast?

CHALAMET: Yeah, it’s true [laughs]. Not right away—Legendary had the rights and was developing it—but as soon as Denis got involved, I set up a Google alert and that’s when I got the book.

In total honesty, I think my understanding of Dune at that point was from a graphic novel I’d seen at Midtown Comics when I was shopping for Yu-Gi-Oh! cards when I was about 10. The year you and I first met, when I was there at Deadline Contenders with Call Me by Your Name, that would have been 2017 or early 2018, and Denis was there with Blade Runner. I remember I was trying to put myself in front of him as much as possible and set up a meeting with him. We had a night at the BAFTA where one of my good friends, Stéphane Bak—who’s also an actor—saw Denis across the room and was like, “Hey buddy, he’s right over there.” So, we went over to talk to him. I kept trying to put myself in front of him, but I didn’t really get a sense of the possibility [of working with him].

I was about halfway through the book when I got the call that he was going to be the president of the jury at the Cannes Film Festival, and I was in London prepping The King. He asked me if I could come out there, so I quickly busted through the second half of the book as best I could. So, like, the first half of my copy is properly annotated and full of my thoughts, and then the second half I just raced through. And then I had that meeting with him, and it was such a joy.

I’m struggling with this even now, as I’m working with Paul King [on Wonka], because he’s another guy I have huge respect and admiration for, and it’s hard to feel on a level. Not that you ever are, because as an actor you’re a cog in the machine, and you’ve got to be humble to the vision of the director. But with Denis, he was pacing around the room, throwing ideas around, in some fancy suite in Cannes, and all I could think was that a year before I was just sat on a stoop on 9th Street in the East Village or something.

DEADLINE: Was that your first time in Cannes?

CHALAMET: Yeah. Well, bizarrely, my sister would do dance camps growing up. Ballet intensive programs in a town called Mougins, which is nearby Cannes, so I spent a lot of time there growing up, but never during the festival, and not on the Riviera. To get to be there for the festival was just nuts. I went to see the Romain Gavras movie, I think, and it was just a huge joy.

I got attached [to the role in Dune] a couple of months after that, and it was nerve-wracking from the announcement, because like I said before, the fans of the book, and the fans of David Lynch version, the computer game, and everything, there’s so much love and strength of feeling. And so much of our pop culture and films and books have been derived from Dune, and all the philosophy the book. I’ve been shocked to learn how many people have a next-level connection to the book. I compare it to how our generation grew up with Harry Potter, and that one makes sense to me. But it’s cool to see with Dune also, when you actually sit down and read it… It’s not that it’s a quote-unquote “hard read” or anything, but it’s not made to be consumed easily, I think that’s fair to say.

So, I was grateful to be working on something of this size not only with Denis Villeneuve leading it, who between Polytechnique, Incendies and Prisoners had nailed the smaller indie film across languages, and then had nailed Arrival and Blade Runner, but who, in his own words, he didn’t feel he’d made his greatest film yet. But also, to be working with this cast. I don’t know if there’s some nightmare version of a film where a young lead is not supported by the rest of his cast, where every one of them had been the leads in their own huge projects. But on this, everyone was there to support, and I think it’s because we all wanted to be foot soldiers for Denis, and I think we understood the potential, based on the script by Eric Roth, Jon Spaihts and Denis, that this could be something really special.

DEADLINE: I don’t have a connection to Dune; this movie is really my first experience of the story. What strikes me is this is clearly an enormous universe—a broad canvas being painted with various families and factions and politics and mythos—but that ultimately it comes down to very elemental, human themes, and we feel them through this character you play, Paul Atreides. Did those themes help ground the experience for you?

CHALAMET: Yes, and I would give the credit entirely to Denis. He would constantly say on set that he had some opposing drumbeat or something. In my diminished intellectual standing, I didn’t understand it, but it was like some vision for the movie based on how biblical the book is that tries to tackle so much that it doesn’t tackle anything. I think he felt the need to be close to a character in it, and Paul is that guy in the book. He’s a character that is still in formation, like a lump of clay, which makes him a great figure for the audience to mirror off.

It speaks, I think, to Denis’ premonition and his directing ability that there were times when we’d move on from a shot or move on from a scene, and I swear, literally, we’d go back because Denis wanted to get something over my shoulder, or push in on my reaction, just to make sure [it stayed on Paul].

And again, it’s something where I’m pinching myself. I had the best time on Interstellar, and that was one of my favorite films I’ve ever worked on, but it was very much something where I was aware of when I had the opportunity to do real acting. And on a movie like Dune, again, one could think it would get lost in the scale and scope. But I felt every day like my plate was full.

DEADLINE: One of those themes is fear, and Paul must overcome his to become the person he needs to be. When you are number one on the call sheet on a project of this scale, and the cast list reads like an address book of Hollywood in the 21st century, and Legendary has injected hundreds of millions of dollars into this production, and it’s all falling on your shoulders, I have to imagine fear is a theme you can readily relate to.

CHALAMET: Oh yeah, and they can bleed into each other for sure—not to diminish the other work that goes in. It’s great when your life experience can inform the role. That’s not at all to say I’m on some crusade in the universe or anything, but definitely… And I had that same good fortune with The King I think. My life is not nearly as significant or as exciting as Paul or Prince Hal, but we all share an unwitting needle in the haystack feeling. On The King that feeling was because I was so new to having a career. On Dune it’s because of, as you say, just feeling the pressure of the hugeness of the project in all those different ways. Those things can absolutely inform each other.

And then there are the moments of glee that come, too, like seeing Jason Momoa running at you at a hundred miles an hour, or just getting to shoot the shit with Josh Brolin, or getting to do a scene with Oscar Isaac. I felt so supported, whether it was Rebecca Fergusson or Charlotte Rampling. When Zendaya came, it was a total breath of fresh air, and she’s one of my favorite parts of the movie. I just got really lucky, and I can’t wait to see them all in Venice.

Denis split the book in half, and the hope is a second movie will get a greenlight. That’d expand Zendaya’s role in the story.

CHALAMET: Definitely, Chani will play a huge role in the next film. I don’t know if there’s a script yet, but just based on the book, along with Lady Jessica [Rebecca Fergusson], they have a lot to do together, let’s put it like that. And Zendaya was incredible in this movie; the moment she pulls the mask down, it felt properly showstopping and powerful. I was hiding behind the camera, counting my lucky starts, because I was there in month two of the shoot and here was a total powerhouse just coming in for the first time.

And as I said before, this was before I’d seen Euphoria and Malcolm & Marie. She’s doing such incredible work and is just trailblazing her own path, and she’s so, so cool. She also happens to be in the most-watched trailer of the moment, too, for Spider-Man: No Way Home. I cannot wait for that movie, and I was there, by the way, with everybody else, clicking through the trailer frame by frame looking for clues [laughs].

[ijustwant2write]

Brought Together-George Weasley x Reader

(GIF credit to @tanrininsonteki​)

(I’ve written loads about Fred, George needed some love too!)

Summary: Who ever gets over the death of their brother? The death of their son? A friend? (Y/N) and the twins were always together, as if joined at the hip (or hips rather). But once the trio became a duo, one person had to become stronger than the other, pushing down their emotions and feelings to help the person they loved; because when things are put in perspective, it’s so obvious who their soulmate should be. 

Characters: George Weasley x Reader, Weasley family x Reader (platonic), mentions of Fred Weasley

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Lots and lots of fluff, death, mourning, suppressed feelings/emotions

                                            *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

My body was numb. Whether it was from exhaustion, shock, trauma, fear or the wounds scattered across my body, it didn’t matter to me, I couldn’t bring myself to move. With my knees hunched up to my chest, my hand tightly gripped onto my wand, showing how much I was shaking. A shadow cast over me, but I didn’t move my head. In my peripheral vision, I saw someone sit next to me, gently taking my wand away before I snapped it in half.

“You haven’t moved. It’s over now (Y/N).” 

George saddled up to me, slowly put an arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him, letting him rest his chin on top of my head. My hand grabbed his free one, guiding it to wrap it around my waist, pulling him close for a hug. It felt relieving to have human contact, to feel someone else’s heartbeat, knowing that they were alive here with me. There was too much blood, too much crying, too many friends lying dead or unconscious on the stone floor. Although fear had been pulsing through my body throughout the entire time we were fighting, my mind wouldn’t accept the concept of anyone dying; yet here I sat, having watch the life drained away from one of my best friends.

“George?” I suddenly gasped, pulling away from him.

His eyes widened at my movement.“What?”

“You’re here, aren’t you? George, please don’t tell me I’m imagining you?!” my voice raised as I panicked, and George tried to shush me. I was disrupting the first sign of peace.

“Yes, yes, (Y/N) I’m here. I’m real,” tears started rolling down his cheeks, but he attempted a smile,“I’m not leaving you. I won’t ever leave you.”

I groaned as I picked up another box, feeling the pain in my back. At ‘Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’, we were re-stocking for the beginning of the Christmas season, changing around the shop to give it a fresh look. George was rolling up his sleeves, stepping back from the display he created. I approached him, standing with my arms crossed as I admired his work.

“I like it.” I simply said.

“Just like?” George nudged me with his elbow.

I smiled, rolling my eyes.“You know what I meant.”

“Come on, I’ll help you with the last boxes.”

“You don’t have to George. Have a break.”

He walked past me.“Nonsense. We’ve got places to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“Drinks after work of course. Seeing as it’s just us today, I thought we could head to the Three Broomsticks, like we used to.”

I blushed, happy that he turned away from me to not see it. Following after him, I tried not to stare too much as he decided how we should set out the certain product. When he was engulfed in his work, something that he was so passionate about, it was like I was seeing the old George, the cheeky chap from school (not that he wasn’t cheeky anymore). These small moments were captured in my memories, pushing back the old, terrible ones. He deserved to be happy, especially when all he wanted to do was make other people laugh with the jokes and pranks they sold.

We managed to finish the new displays within the next hour, meaning it was time for us to relax with a good drink. It wasn’t going to be a night of getting drunk, just two...friends enjoying each other’s company. Wrapping up warm, George locked up, holding out his arm to me as we hurried to the pub, wanting to be out of the cold as soon as possible. Once at the Three Broomsticks, we were easily able to find a table, being served instantly as it wasn’t busy, only a few locals filled the space.

“Actually,” George started after setting his drink down,“I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

There was that blush again. It seemed that words didn’t want to form.“Hm?”

“Well, obviously you’re always welcome round mine. But I was wondering if you wanted to come over for Christmas? Not the actual day cause I know you’ll be with your family, but just before-”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“What?”

He chuckled.“That didn’t take much persuasion, did it?”

“I love your family. You didn’t even need to ask. But you sounded nervous.”

“Did I?”

I nodded, taking a sip of my drink. 

“W-well, I...I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he looked everywhere except in my direction.“You ever seen me nervous?”

I giggled.“You don’t remember asking me to the Yule Ball-”

He waved his hands dismissively, which only made me laugh harder.“We said to never speak of that again, remember?”

I shrugged, a grin still on my face.“I still think it was more cute than nervous.”

Now it was his turn to tease me.“You think I’m cute?”

“Thought, I thought the whole idea was cute. But you can’t deny that it wasn’t a good night.”

“No, that was fun.” we were both in thought.“You looked beautiful in that dress.”

I waited for a snarky remark, but nothing came.“But?”

“What do you mean, ‘but’?”

“Oh, usually you just...never mind.” 

“Anyway,” George cleared his throat,“you know mum wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you’ll have to pack a bag to stay a few nights.”

I laughed.“I would expect nothing less. Gosh, what to get all you Weasley’s for Christmas?”

“Don’t be daft. You don’t need to get everyone presents.”

“Of course I do!”

“Tell you what, why don’t we join up for presents? Buy them together.”

“You know what George, that’s probably the best idea you’ve had for a while.” I smirked.

He scoffed a laugh.“Right, I know I offered to buy the drinks, but that stops now!”

We had a few weeks before my time at the Weasley’s, meaning we were able to think and buy everyone’s presents. During lunch breaks or on days off, we would scour the shops, coming out of them with bags and bags hanging off our arms. I was always excited to see my second family, and Christmas was a fun, special time of year for everyone. The night before we were set to visit them, I stayed with George as we had to set off early the next morning. It was lovely when we stayed with each other.

"I know you only clean this place up when I come round, just admit it!" I giggled as we laid in bed facing the other, discarded chocolate wrappings scattered between us. 

George laughed with me, rolling onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. As we calmed down, I bundled up into a tight ball, feeling a slight chill, which George noticed. He said nothing as he leaned his upper body off of the bed, grabbing a blanket from who knows where before wrapping it around me. My gaze remained on him as he tucked me in, enjoying the small amount of attention. Feeling hands on me made butterflies emerge in my stomach, and the caring side to him was the sweetest thing I had ever seen. 

"I will admit, I did buy that blanket just for you. You complained about being cold enough to drive me mad." he smirked. 

I clutched onto the soft fabric."Well, if you're going to speak to me like that, then I guess I'll just leave." 

He tucked his arms beneath his head, closing his eyes slowly."Go on then. See you later." 

When neither of us moved, we tried to contain our laughter, both failing miserably as our cackles rang out in his bedroom. It was like our sleepovers we had when we were much younger, they stopped as we...changed at a certain age. 

“Are you sure everyone will like their presents?" I wondered. 

He sighed lightly."We've been over this. You could pick up a weed from our own garden and they would fawn over it. It's not the gift they want, it's you." 

My mouth open, prepared to protest against him as he teased me again, but I was stuck for words."George...that's a lovely thing to say." 

His head lolled to face me, his face scrunching up in disgust."I take it back." 

"No!" I quickly said."You can't pretend you didn't say that!" 

"Say what?" he teased.

"George!" 

Carrying everyone’s presents in our arms, George and I prepared ourselves for the onslaught of hugs and kisses we would be attacked with before we could even set down any of the presents or our bags. We were still a few steps away from the door when it was fiercely pulled open, Molly squealing and throwing her arms up in joy.

“Oh, you’re here! Arthur, they’re here!” she was beaming.

She hastily took the presents from George’s arms, impatiently ushering him inside as Arthur (who was a bit more reserved) took my presents, before I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as a greeting. Once all of our belongings were set down, proper hugs were given, just as bone crushing as they usually were.

“Oh, it’s so lovely to have you over dear.” Molly gushed.

“Mum, she was here a month ago.” George said.

“Well, it wouldn’t matter if it was just a day, I would miss her the same amount.” 

I smiled at her.“Thank you Molly. See George, maybe you should be as kind as your mum.”

“I see you everyday, that’s almost too much for me.”

“Well, Ginny and Harry should be arriving tonight, Ron is already here, I think Hermione is supposed to be coming tonight too, but I’m not sure when, Bill and Fleur-”

Molly continued explaining the plan for the next couple of days, but I was distracted by George talking to his dad. Their voices were hushed, they kept side glancing at us as they spoke, before a shy smile emerged on George’s face. I somehow went back to Molly’s explanation, pretending that I had heard everything she said. Politely nodding, I was relieved that she started asking me about myself, changing the topic of conversation, even though my mind was occupied with someone else.

Everyone had arrived as the evening came, squeezing into the house and around the long table. As we sat down to eat, I noticed an empty chair besides George, realising who should have been there. My breath got caught in my throat at the sight, not hearing George call my name until he placed his hand on top of mine. 

“You OK?” he whispered.

“Um...” my head slowly turned to face him.“Yeah, sorry. I’m fine.”

“It’s strange, isn’t it? What I mean is, it’s weird to think he’s...he’s not here.”

I squeezed his hand, but before I could say anything, Arthur stood, preparing to make a speech. Keeping my hand in George’s, I listened just like everyone else, trying to push away the flashes of Fred filling my mind.

“Well, I know it’s a bit early to be celebrating Christmas, but we know that you all have your own plans for this year, now that you’re grown up. But it is important to ensure that we get together, especially during this season about love, giving gifts, drinking, eating, and spending time with family and friends, because...because you never know what the future holds. And I think...no, I know that the last year has taught us all that.”

People were either getting teary eyes, already crying, or had a solemn look on their faces. Glances towards the empty seat were common. I didn’t wince as George’s grip tightened, strongly pinching my skin. Keeping my head down, I suppressed any tears, taking in a deep breath as Arthur managed to carry on.

“I just want you all to know, that I love you, your mother and I love you. And for those extended family, (Y/N), Harry, Hermione, Fleur, Audrey, we love you just as much. You’re our family too. We need to make every moment count, make every moment special. So, with that being said, let’s have some fun tonight!”

We raised our glasses, clinking them all together before drinking. I took a big gulp, and then another as the chatter built up again. Once we were done with food and the conversations afterwards, we were going to start playing games, lifting up the atmosphere in the room. Before it started, I excused myself, not that anyone took much notice. Scurrying upstairs, I tried to slow down my breathing as I shut myself in my designated room, covering my mouth to silence my cries. I collapsed back onto the bed, head in my hands as I felt tears try to stream down my face. My shoulders shook as I forced myself to make no noise. The door opened, causing me to flinch back, even though it was George.

“(Y/N)? Why are you crying?” he panicked, immediately kneeling in front of me.

I shook my head that was back hiding in my hands.

“Hey, come on, you can talk to me. Did someone say something?”

I sniffled, looking away from him.“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be crying, it’s not fair.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just seeing Fred’s chair...without him in it, it was heartbreaking. And, and I know you and your family have to deal with that every day for the rest of your lives but...but I miss him so much George!”

“It’s alright. Hey, I’m here.” he moved to sit beside me, holding my close. 

“I’ve always wanted to make sure you were happy, and I knew that if I started crying like this then it would make things worse. He was your twin brother. What right do I have to be like this?”

“Listen to yourself,” he softly said, gently pushing me away so that I would look him in the eyes,“you’ve never mourned properly. You heard my dad downstairs, you’re family. Fred loved you, you loved him, we were the best of friends us three! The fact that you’ve not let out all of this makes me worried. It’s not healthy.”

“I know, I just couldn’t stand to see you upset anymore. I wanted to make you happy.”

“You do make me happy (Y/N). You make me extremely happy by just being with me, by just being you. You’re right, all those times I saw your smile, I smiled. Making you laugh is one of the best things in the world, and the fact that I can see you everyday, well, I couldn’t ask for anything more. I just wished that you had been able to talk to me about this, you know I’m always here for you.”

“I should have, I realised that now. But when you would start to let everything out to me, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, I felt like I was adding to your trauma and making it about myself. And after relentless weeks of nightmares, nightmares that involved you dying alongside Fred, it would all disappear from my mind once I saw you.”

His hand pushed away the hair stuck to my wet face, sadly smiling.“I understand. Promise me that you’ll tell me about these sort of things?”

I nodded.“I promise. I’m sorry that I didn’t speak to you sooner.”

“Don’t apologise. You have nothing to apologise for.”

Strangely, we both leaned in towards each other, quickly kissing. We didn’t pull away a lot, kissing once again, though this one was firmer and more confident. It wasn’t leading to anything, it was something we both wanted but knew tonight wasn’t the right time to go too deep into this. After a few seconds apart, I couldn’t help it, I had to kiss him again.

“My dad asked about us earlier. After hearing that we bought presents together and stayed with each other, he was wondering if something had finally happened.”

“Glad he’s not the only one wanting something to happen between us.”

“We’ll definitely talk about this tomorrow. But just so you know, I enjoyed that.” George said.

“I did too.” I mumbled, suddenly becoming shy.“And thank you for always being there George. I will get better at expressing my feelings in the moment.”

“I just hope you know that it doesn’t matter how you’re feeling; happy, sad, excited, annoyed, you can tell me anything. And also, if Fred was here, he would have certainly burst in and ruined the moment.”

I giggled.“You’re not wrong there. Perhaps he’s watching down on us know, wishing he could have put some sort of plan into action to embarrass us.”

“I bet he is. But I know he would have also been happy.”

“And we’ll be happy too. We are happy.”

“Yes, now that I’ve got you, I’m going to cherish every moment, just as dad said to.”

I hugged him close.“Don’t ever leave me George.”

“I won’t, not ever.”

[imagine-that-100]

The Martini Police

Description: You’re leading yourself down a slippery slope, but thankfully the person that matters most in your life notices and helps you.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Angst, and drinking issues

A/N: This was requested by an Anon. I hope I did it justice. Angst isn’t really my forte but I gave it a go. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you for reading x

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“What happened?” Alex asks, rushing into the kitchen.

You were sitting at the table, head in hands, heels just being kicked off. But that wasn’t what shocked Alex, it was the fact that your tights were all ripped, covered in dried blood, and you had it still trickling down your leg, from your knee which was cut open.

You shake your head and in a pathetic voice, you whisper, “I don’t know.”

Alex rushes to the sink and immediately wets a cloth so he can help clean you up. He was still in his pyjamas, only coming down the stairs because he heard the front door closing a few minutes ago and it worried him when you weren’t in bed beside him.

He knew you’d been on another night out, but he hoped you’d be in bed beside him when he opened his eyes this morning.

As water collects in the material he worriedly asks, “What do you mean ‘you don't know’?”

“I can’t remember.” You say in an exhausted voice, looking up at Alex for a second but you cast your eyes to the ground once more.

You take a few deep breaths before you realise that your mouth has gone dry again. So as Alex comes back over with the wet cloth to try and clean up, you reach for the drink you poured when you came in.

Alex makes his way back over and kneels down in front of you to tend to your injury, but he notices that you half wince at what he thought was the water in your glass. His face falls immediately, and he reaches for the glass you were about to put down, as he asked, “What’s that?”

Your eyes go wide as he takes it from you. “Alex, please don-” You start but it’s too late.

He already brought the glass up to his nose and the stench of vodka filled his senses immediately.

“Is that vodka? At seven in the morning?” Alex asks you with wide eyes, despite knowing it’s a fact.

You watch as he gets up and pours it away, and you just try and defend yourself, “It’s helping take the pain away.”

“You know what else would do that? A paracetamol. Or an ibuprofen.” Alex said distastefully, but it was the shock filtering through his system. “You should not be drinking at this time in the morning.”

You murmured a little, “I know, I know.” as Alex comes back and starts cleaning up your knee. He ended up just ripping the tights open and pulling that leg off, as you didn’t look like you were in a fit state to stand up and take them off yourself.

You don’t protest, feeling bad enough that you’ve obviously upset him by drinking and stumbling home at this time. You’d gone out last night with a few of your older friends that you met when you first moved to London.

You’d been going out with them a lot recently after one of them got back in contact. And most of the time you’d been stumbling back into your home at similar times.

And that wasn’t like you at all.

It worried Alex to no extent. Because he’d seen you around these people. You were different around them compared to how you were with your usual group of friends and both of your friends.

And Alex couldn’t pretend he didn’t see it anymore.

“Y/N…” Alex says softly, drawing your attention to him, as he carries on cleaning up your knee. He says almost hesitantly, “I don't think you should go out with that lot anymore.”

You frown at him, questioning what he meant by that, “What?”

“I don’t trust them.” He tells you honestly, still trying to keep his voice calm. “And I don't think they are good for you.”

Despite his calm tone, you get defensive about what he just said. And it didn’t help that you were still drunk when he was just trying to express his concern for you.

“Do you think this is high school where you can make me feel guilty about who I spend time with?” You ask not comprehending where this was coming from at all.

You saw Alex sigh at that as he got up with the now blood-stained cloth in his hand. When Alex gets a large plaster out of a box, he also gets some painkillers as he hears you scoff, “I didn’t realise we were teenagers getting jealous over friendship groups.”

“I’m not jealous Y/N/N…” Alex shakes his head, and once he’s got your glass of water, he says, “I’m scared for you.” as he kneels back down in front of you.

Your emotions seem to change immediately hearing him say that. You ask with shock clearly on your features, “Why?”

Alex makes you take the painkillers before he tells you what he’s thinking.

“Because this is the sixth time you have stumbled home when the sun’s already coming up and you’ve been hurt. You’ve had bruises on you before and now you’ve cut your knee open.” Alex points out in a pained voice before continuing to tend to your injury.

“That's just me being clumsy.” You sigh, knowing you weren’t the most balanced person when you were like this.

Alex isn’t so convinced, “But is it though?”

“Because I know you know London’s not always a nice place. Someone could have hurt you whilst you’re like this.” Alex says, as he puts the large white plaster over your knee and presses down the sides of it, so it doesn’t come away from your skin.

You shake your head, “Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not Y/N/N, I'm scared.” Alex reiterates, emphasising that he was in fact he was worried about you.

Not seeming to get it, you ask, “Why are you scared?”

“I’m scared for you because you can't remember how these things have happened.” Alex tells you; worry is all over his features as he says, “I’m scared that someone is hurting you on purpose or your so called ‘friends’ are putting you in harm's way by letting you get blackout drunk.”

You’re just looking into his brown eyes at this point as he’s looking up at your heavy and tired Y/E/C ones. Your makeup had smudged a little, but that wasn’t a surprise considering you’d been out of the house for over 12 hours.

Alex presses on calmly, trying to make you understand that this wasn’t good for you. “You surely can’t like having no memory of where you’ve been? Or what you’ve done?”

You think about it for a moment and you feel your eyes filling up because even when you thought really hard back to just a few hours ago, you were drawing a blank. And that was starting to scare you.

Especially when you realised you barely had any memory of being around your old friends on the previous nights out, you’d been on too.

So, you look into those gorgeous brown eyes, and shake your head a little as you answer, “No.”

“Then please stop with this Y/N.” Alex begs you in a strained voice. Seeing you get even a little upset hurt him and it felt bad that it was his words causing it. “I worry about you all the time when I’m away now because I don’t trust that those people have your best interests at heart.”

Alex hints at his worries for the future too. Because he’d found an empty glass in the kitchen last week after you’d returned home early from a night out and it stank of stale alcohol.

So Alex has to say, whilst you’re both having this conversation, “I don't want this to get worse for you Y/N. Because we all know what slippery slopes alcohol leads you to.”

“And I love you, so I’m not letting you get to that. Because I need you, and I can't lose you.” Alex continues in a pained voice, trying not to cry.

“I need you too... I don't wanna get to that Al.” You admit as the tears start gathering more.

“It’s not going to get to that.” Alex cups your face, and he smiles when you lean into his touch. He reminds you, “You’ve got me, yeah?”

Your eyes fill to the brim with unshed tears and when you nod, saying a faint, “Yeah.”

When your tears start spilling Alex gets the first few before he pulls you into a hug. His chest was hurting seeing you like this and yours was just as heavy.

You clutched him like he was your last lifeline and Alex held you tightly as he felt you start crying in his arms. Yours were around him and you were holding onto his pyjama top like it was

“I'm sorry.” You sob into him, needing him to understand just how sorry you were.

You never meant for it to get like this, but everything he said just clicked together and you could see that you were on a dangerous path. These people that you thought were your friends were just leading you down a dark path of needing a drink almost every night and you didn’t want that.

And you didn’t want that. Before they got back in contact 6 months ago, you were fine living your life with Alex barely wanting anything to drink, even when you both did end up going out.

And you wanted that back.

“No, don't be sorry.” Alex shakes his head, as he cradles yours, feeling shaky breaths rattling though you. He admits, “I just need you to be okay.”

After a few minutes, he hears you say when you’ve calmed down, “I love you Alex.”

“I love you too.” He says before proceeding to kiss your head.

And he does help you through it. Because that's what you both signed up for.

For better, for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish.

Always.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You can add yourself to my Taglists in my Masterlist x

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 10

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,179

Warnings: nothing new

A/N: Hey it’s me, daddy! ...well apparently. I really gotta take a chill pill... these chapters are getting way too long. But anyway, I hope you enjoy it, my babies are soft and sensitive :’) Thank you for reading, I truly appreciate it!

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

You looked around the bar while you sipped your drink, a 12 dollar grapefruit juice and club soda cocktail. There weren’t many people at one in the afternoon, mostly suits and wealthy tourists, though you half expected to find Natasha hiding in the back with a hat, a large pair of sunglasses and an unfolded newspaper.

From the rug to the chairs and armchairs, everything was either black or white. You ran your index finger over the intricate calligraphy on the back of your chair. It was a number: 5.

Turning back around, you glanced at the clock and mentally cursed yourself for always being so early. You hated being late, and arriving less than ten minutes early counted as late in your book. You were nervous to see Wanda after all this time.

You hadn’t been expecting her to stay at a hotel on the Upper East Side. You wondered how she could afford it, but decided it was none of your business.

“I had a feeling you’d be here already.” That familiar voice brought back fond childhood memories and other not so pleasant memories. “You’re always early.”

You didn’t move a muscle as Wanda took a seat next to you, number 6. She signalled the bartender and ordered a latte. Meanwhile you played with your straw, trying to subtly steal a glance at her.

“What did you do to your hair?” you asked with a grimace, turning your body toward her.

Without looking at you, she raised her brows in mild exasperation. “I dyed it.”

“It’s orange.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I get it. You’re angry with me.”

“Oh,” you drawled out. “I’m well past angry. I was angry four years ago, now I just don’t care anymore.”

“You don’t care about me anymore?”

“No, and it’s not like you cared about me, or Scott, or Okoye.” You paused. “Or mom.”

Wanda had a shocked look on her face as she finally met your eyes. “That’s low. You have no idea-”

“No, you have no idea what it was like to live in that house after you all left. You have absolutely no idea,” you said, enunciating each word between your teeth, “because you weren’t there, because you left us –you left me. Six years, Wanda.”

She looked away and you saw her bottom lip quiver. She clenched her jaw and took a small sip of her latte. You instantly felt bad for snapping at her. You didn’t like confrontation. Hated arguing. You internalized. It was difficult for you to acknowledge that you had a right to express your feelings.

“I, uh,” Wanda said, then cleared her throat. “I knew you weren’t going to welcome me with open arms, and I know what I did was wrong, but I’d like us to be a family again. If it’s not too late.”

“It’s not too late,” you said with a small sigh. “But I’m not going to instantly forgive you just because you’re back.”

“I know.”

“What made you come back?”

She fiddled with her fingers in her lap and you noticed the ring on her fourth finger. It was a beautiful vintage-inspired ring made of black rhodium with an ornate cadenza halo in the centre.

A terrible thought occurred to you, making your stomach twist painfully. You didn’t know her at all. Not anymore. You had missed so much of your sister’s life. Or more accurately; she had cut you out of her life, and it was painful.

“I went to London,” Wanda said, unaware of your inner turmoil. “I saw Uncle Michael. He asked me if I was here to see mom, and I said, ‘No, mom’s in New York.’ And then he told me-” she tilted her head to look at you “-he told me mom was sick, that you and Okoye put her in a nursing home not far from his apartment. I didn’t believe him, so he took me to mom and she-” She paused, staring straight ahead as if she was caught in the memory

“She looked at you like she didn’t know you,” you said, knowing exactly where the story was going because it had happened to you too.

“Yeah,” Wanda breathed out, tears in her eyes. “I never felt so alone. They told her I was her daughter, but she didn’t recognize me. She kept asking Uncle Michael who I was, then she got mad because she was adamant she never had children.”

“I know,” you said sympathetically.

“I wanted to see you and apologize for not being the sister you deserve. For not being here when you needed me most.”

“Where were you all this time?” you asked, practically begged for an answer.

Her shoulders tensed and she straightened up in her seat. “Just travelling.”

“I know, I got your postcards.” You nodded toward the engagement ring on her finger. “I guess I should say congratulations.”

“Mhh,” she said running the pad of her thumb over the diamond. “It’s funny I never thought I’d fall in love and get married. I don’t need a man in my life to make me feel whole. Mom raised us alone, we’re independent and strong.” A small smile graced her lips. “But I found someone sweet and charming, someone who makes me feel safe and calm.”

“Are you writing your vows?”

“Har har,” she deadpanned, rolling her eyes, a faint smile on her lips. You’d missed her, missed your banter. “You haven’t changed.”

“If you say so,” you said in a sombre voice. You looked at the clock above the bar. “Listen, I have to go but I’m happy you found someone. I’d like to meet him one day. I bet he doesn’t know about your Baby Spice phase.”

You jumped off the bar stool and picked up your jacket. Wanda turned in her seat, catching your wrist as you looped your purse over your shoulder.

“Can you stay a little longer?” she asked, looking at you with pleading eyes. “Just a minute.”

“Okay.”

She let go of your wrist. “Scott’s been released last month. I talked to him on the phone and asked him to fly to New York. He should be here tomorrow. I also talked to Okoye, I asked her to come here. We have things to discuss. I know things will never be the same, not after Pietro, not after mom, but we can try. We’re still a family.”

“Great,” you replied. Your word came out with more force than you had intended, but you didn’t apologize. They were all coming back for Wanda but when your mother needed help, you were all alone.

“Yeah,” Wanda whispered, her eyes cast down. “I was thinking we could all meet up for dinner. Okoye’s bringing her boyfriend so if you... if you have a partner-”

“I’m single.”

“Oh, uh, you can bring Natasha if you want.”

“No, thanks.” You reached into your purse and pulled out one of your business cards. “Text me, okay? I really gotta go.”

She smiled as she read your card. “You’re an artist? Splotchy, I’m so proud of you!”

That damn nickname... “I still haven't found a gallery. Not many people want to represent an unknown artist but I’m not giving up.”

“You never give up,” Wanda said with a gentle smile. “That’s why I love you.”

You took a cab to Natasha’s apartment. It had been three weeks since Sam moved to D.C., and Nat was having a hard time finding a job in her field.

She didn’t want to find another sugar daddy. It seemed ridiculous since she was still carrying a massive torch for Sam. She had saved enough money to live on until she could find a job and a new place to live.

“I’m officially done,” she grumbled in lieu of a greeting. “Job hunting sucks. New York sucks. Life sucks.”

“Pretty bold statement.”

You entered the apartment and plopped down next to her on the sofa. With a groan, she wrestled out of her blouse and threw it on the floor, leaving her in a simple white spaghetti-strap shirt and a pair of black trousers.

“I hate wearing a suit.”

“You look good in them.”

“I know,” she cried out. “I hate wearing suits when it’s all for nothing. I’m not the boss, I’m no one. Just another doofus with a college degree standing here like-” she cupped her hands together, as if she was holding a bowl, and looked at you with a pout. “Please, sir, I want some more.”

“I don’t understand why you didn’t get the job,” you said, biting back a laugh. “I would hire you for that spot on Oliver Twist impression.”

She laughed. “I think I lost my fire. People used to be scared of me. Remember? I miss that.”

“You’re a psycho,” you snorted, using her shoulder as a pillow. “If it’s any consolation, Bucky’s terrified of you.”

“Good.”

“Hey!”

She pressed her cheek against the top of your head and sighed. You stayed in that position for a few more seconds before you told Natasha what had happened with Wanda. She offered to go with you to your family gathering but you insisted you wanted to go alone.

“I gotta go,” you said. “Bucky’s taking me to dinner.”

“Oh,” she cooed, “is he finally going to propose?”

“That’s very funny,” you deadpanned. “I was starting to feel cooped up in our apartment so we decided to go out. Have fun, y’know.”

“Our apartment,” Natasha repeated with a lopsided smirk before she burst into a fit of giggles.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, embarrassed.

“That’s cute.” She pinched your cheek and you batted her hand away. “You should talk to him.”

“Don’t start.”

“What? I’m just saying-”

“Natasha,” you cut her off. “Stop asking me to talk to him. It’s not going to happen, and it’s giving me so much anxiety. You couldn’t talk to Sam, what makes you think I can talk to Bucky?”

She looked at you for a long moment. “I know you love him.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, considering. You had never really been in love before but falling in love with Bucky had been so easy. And it was particularly scary because you had never been in a relationship, only flings.

“I do,” you admitted quietly. Saying it out loud was both freeing and terrifying.

“Don’t lose him.”

You knew Natasha missed Sam, she’d told you about it, but she wasn’t the kind of woman who let others see her pain. She confided in you and her friend, Clint, but other than that she rarely shared her problems with others.

Her bony shoulder was digging uncomfortably into your cheek so you shifted and let your head rest against her chest. She started playing with your hair. “Have you heard from Sam?”

“Not since he left,” she replied, then glanced down at you. “Have you?”

She tried to sound casual so you played along and acted like you couldn’t hear her heart jackhammering in her chest. “He called the landline the other day. Bucky wasn’t home so I answered.”

“The landline?” Natasha repeated with a scoff. “Your husband is old.”

“He asked if you were okay,” you said, choosing to ignore her comment. “You should call him.”

She stayed quiet for so long, you began to worry. You tilted your head to look at her, she had a faraway look in her eyes. You didn’t want to break her trance but she was starting to scare you.

You booped her chin and almost immediately a soft smile touched her lips. She cleared her throat, then checked her watch.

“You should go, you’re going to be late.”

“It’s okay,” you said. You couldn’t leave, not when she looked so sad. You knew Bucky would understand. “We can order some pizza, binge watch something on Netflix and go out for ice cream later. Like we used to.”

She laughed softly. “That sounds amazing. I kinda want to be alone tonight though, and Bucky’s waiting for you. I’m fine, I promise.” She looked down at you with a kind smile. “Rain check?”    

“Absolutely.”

With a heavy heart, you left Natasha and started walking to the restaurant. The clouds above you were low and dark, masking the setting sun. You smiled, remembering the day you and Bucky went to the park.

You had wanted to go paint outside but you got caught in a rainstorm on the way home. As rain poured down on the both of you, you caught Bucky’s hand and tried to run to the nearest subway entrance but he didn’t budge.

He stayed in the middle of the street, still holding your hand, and grinned at you while people rushed around you. His hair was plastered to his head, little rivulets of water running down his nose. He smiled at you, bright and playful, and you almost melted on the spot.

What’s the rush, sweet angel?

When you got home, you both changed into dry clothes and sat in front of the fireplace with a bowl of soup. He looked adorable with his slightly damp hair, a few big curls flopping down onto his forehead. When you started sneezing, he adjusted the blanket around you.

The next day, you felt a little feverish and Bucky took care of you. He pressed his lips to your forehead, checking your temperature. Your mother used to do that too. You doubted the accuracy of that little test but you couldn’t care less. It felt incredibly comforting. They should teach it in med school.

Bucky was waiting for you in front of the restaurant. The weather was warmer now, and you were pleased to see that his maroon bomber jacket was back. It was a rerun of the night you had met him.

“Hey you,” he said, dropping a quick kiss on your cheek. “How did it go with Wanda?”

“Good, I guess. It could have been way worse.” You paused to look at him. “You okay? You look a little nervous. We don’t have to-”

“I’m okay,” he chuckled, smoothing his hand down his jacket, lightly patting his pocket. “Shall we?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Promise me you’re not over-exerting yourself again.”

He stood in front of you, smiling kindly. “I promise.”

It had been a while since he had a panic attack, but they were always impressive and you couldn’t stand the thought of him trapped in his own mind, battling his demons alone.

You must have been silent too long because Bucky cupped the side of your face and said, “Thank you for taking care of me, angel. But I promise you, I’m fine. So what do you say? Wanna have dinner with me?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him as he flashed you a cocky grin.

The restaurant was a quaint little place in Midtown with curved black leather booths lining the walls and simple cutlery. There were books everywhere, arranged neatly on the shelves along the walls. The place was well-lit, yet still cosy and calm.

Despite the hour, the restaurant wasn’t crowded. There was a couple, probably in their sixties, enjoying their meals together. Several people were eating alone, a book opened next to their plate, and a few others were browsing the shelves looking for something to read.

While you ate, you filled Bucky in on your conversation with Wanda. He didn’t interrupt you, he listened to you ramble on about how much you didn’t want to go to her reunion dinner.

“You can invite them over for dinner,” he said. You almost choked on your food. “Call me crazy but I think you’d feel more at ease if you were in a familiar environment.”

He had a point. You had no idea what that night had in store for you, and you definitely didn’t want to cause a scene in a restaurant. You weren’t one for airing your dirty laundry in public.

“I know that our... um, friendship is a little unconventional but I’d like to meet them.”

“Really? Wait,” you said, spotting a bit of tomato sauce on his chin. “You have something on your chin.” You reached over and used your napkin to wipe it away. “You eat like a wolf.”

“Mhh thanks.” He swallowed his mouthful of pasta and washed it down with a gulp of water. “To be honest with you, I’m a sucker for family reunions. I love watching people’s faces when they see someone they haven’t seen in a very long time.”

“I’m not sure it’ll be a happy one.”

“Well, then you could probably use some moral support,” he said. “And I’m curious if they ever gave you a silly nickname. Or maybe they’ll share some funny anecdotes.”

You stopped mid-bite and swallowed quickly, your eyes widening in fear. You couldn’t let that happen, Scott and Okoye would jump at the chance to tease you. “Oh, no, no, no! You are never meeting them.”

He laughed. “I bet you were a cute kid. I imagine you in some paint-stained overalls, hula hooping through the 90s, listening to the Spice Girls and watching Saturday morning cartoons with a bowl of cereal or a plate of pancakes.”

“You’re not too far off.” You grinned.

“You don’t have to make a decision right now,” he said in a more serious tone. “But think about it, okay?”

Inviting your siblings and their partners over for dinner was a bad idea. You could already picture their faces upon seeing Bucky. It would turn into an interrogation, and it would be absolutely unbearable.

But then again, you didn’t think you could endure the reunion without him.

The waiter came over to collect your dirty plates and asked if there would be anything else. He recited the dessert specialties and you ordered something that sounded both extravagant and mouth-watering.

“I have something for you,” Bucky broke the silence between you.

You responded with a curious yet playful frown and a tilt of your head. He glanced down at the table for a second as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a slim jewellery box.

He placed it on the table next to his glass and let his fingertips linger on the lid, caressing it slowly as he hesitated. Then with a smooth flick of his wrist, he slid the box across the table. Your eyes flickered between the box and Bucky’s worried expression.

Inside the box, nestled in cream velvet, was a gold artist’s palette pendant with a delicate chain. The pendant had two paint brushes sticking out of the palette and four tiny stones representing the colours waiting to be mixed; ruby, sapphire, emerald and topaz.

It was incredibly tiny, about the length of two staples, but it made the details even more impressive. You could tell it was an old piece. There were light signs of wear and the design reminded you of the 1930s. It looked full of stories from previous owners. A testimony of love, passion and devotion.

“Oh,” you gasped as if all the air had been punched out of you. Bucky straightened up and jerked forward in his seat, his eyes round with anticipation. “Oh,” you repeated dumbly, at a loss for words.

“I saw it in the window of an antique shop on the way here,” he said.

That was a lie.

He had spent weeks searching for the perfect charm. He had a very specific idea of what he wanted to buy. Until one day, he found it. It reminded him of you; delicate, discreet, irreplaceable.

“Bucky,” you sighed, spellbound. “It’s... it’s beautiful.”

“It reminded me of you.” He met your eyes, smiled, and extended his hand in your direction. “Can I?”

Without hesitation you removed the necklace from its box and gave it to Bucky. After living with him for about six months, you knew there was nothing he couldn’t do. Even fasten your necklace with one hand.

He stood up and rounded the table, sitting next to you on the booth. You turned, giving him your back as he slipped the necklace around your neck. You held the pendant in the little dip between your collarbones at the base of your throat and let the ends of the chain dangle down your back.

“I noticed you haven’t been painting a lot since-” Bucky trailed off. Since you had a meltdown in your studio, since you realized your art was not good enough. Since you realized your dreams were too big to accomplish.

You looked over your shoulder and watched him fumble with the spring ring clasp. You couldn’t see what he was doing but he seemed entirely focused on the task at hand.

“Inspiration is a fickle thing, it comes and goes,” he continued. “I worry about you. You put too much pressure on yourself visiting galleries and trying to match their vision. I want you to remember who you are. You’re an artist. Never doubt yourself or your skills.”

He secured the chain around your neck and adjusted the necklace so that the little palette fell nicely above the neckline of your sweater. You stared at him wide eyed and amazed, and he smiled tenderly at you.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “I’ll never take it off.”

“My pleasure, angel.”

“I really love it but it’s too much,” you said as he returned to his seat. “I don’t want you to think I’m after your money. I’m so grateful for your help, you do so much for me already.”

“I know you’re not after my money, but it’s mine and I’ll spend it as I please. I know you like gifts with meaning. And all I want is to make you happy.”

“You want to make me happy?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“Of course, I do.”

It was a foreign concept to you, you could hardly comprehend it. He wasn’t your childhood best friend, he wasn’t your brother or your mother’s brother, and yet he wanted to be the one who put a smile on your face.

You weren’t used to random acts of kindness. You spent most of your life taking care of others, making sure they had everything they needed, you forgot what it was like to feel loved.

And it all became so much clearer.

You knew in your heart that your feelings for Bucky weren’t one sided. Not when he looked at you like that. Not when he touched you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

There was a mutual, yet silent, understanding between you. This is good. Let’s not make things complicated. Even though we both want to.  And you abided by that unspoken rule, not wanting to make things more complicated.

Your eyes were overflowing with tears. When a tear escaped, you felt it bounce on your cheekbone before it landed near your pendant. You rolled your eyes at yourself and smiled.

“Why am I always crying?” you said, laughing a little. “I’m not sad, I swear. These are happy tears.” Bucky’s smile was calm and sure. “Wait, I’m just gonna-” you trailed off, wiping the back of your hand under your nose with an embarrassed laugh.

“You’re beautiful.”

You lay in bed that night, replaying those three words in your head until you fell asleep.

It took you a couple of days to come to term with the realization that your feelings weren’t one sided. A little voice in your head tried to protect your heart, it said: Don’t get your hopes up. Remember what happened last time.

But that voice was quiet, almost too quiet to hear.

Against your better judgement, you agreed to invite your siblings over for dinner. All you had to do was call Wanda’s hotel and ask the hotel staff to pass along a message. Easy-peasy.

Well, in theory, because it turned out to be stressed depressed lemon zest.

There were things Bucky didn’t know about you and your family, things that you had intentionally kept from him. One of these things was your brother’s criminal record.

Bucky had asked you a few times what Scott did for a living and you always gave him the same rehearsed answer. “Scott has a master’s degree in electrical engineering but he’s between jobs at the moment.” It wasn’t a total lie but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

You finally decided to tell him everything.

Scott was a thief. Before Cassie was born, and thanks to his computer skills, he used to steal from criminals and give back to those they had stolen from. He promised his wife, Maggie, that he would stop after Cassie’s birth.

He took up a job at VistaCorp but noticed that the company was overcharging their customers. Thinking that it was a coding error, he fixed it before his boss, Geoff Zorick, ordered him to change it back. It made him realize that the company was intentionally overcharging their customers.

He was fired soon after. Maggie begged him not to get involved, she begged him to think of his family but Scott didn’t listen. He broke into the company’s headquarters, hacked their system and redistributed the stolen money. Then he broke into Zorick’s house, stole a bunch of stuff and drove Zorick’s car into the pool.

He got five years.

Bucky was a little shocked but he took these new revelations well.

“People make mistakes,” he said. “He paid for his mistake, and not seeing his little girl for five years is punishment enough.” He bumped his shoulder against yours and grinned. “He sounds like a chaotic Robin Hood. I can’t wait to meet him.”

You chuckled. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Nope.”

“So... you’re not going to hide your valuables in a closet somewhere?”

“I would but I’m not sure you’d like to be stuck in the closet all night.” You rolled your eyes and huffed, thinking he wasn’t taking you seriously. He laughed quietly. “The only valuable thing I own is the bookmark my niece made for me, everything else is meaningless. And I don’t judge people on their worst mistakes.”

“You sound like Natasha,” you chuckled lowly. “But I’m glad you think that way.”

“That being said, they have a lot of apologizing and making up to do. They left you all alone. It isn’t right.”

You squirmed in your seat. “Argh, I don’t know. It’s in the past now, I don’t want to dwell on it. We were all miserable back then, and I’m not exactly blameless here.”

Bucky gave you a puzzled look. “You took care of your mom when she was sick, you sold your childhood home. You found your mom a nursing home where she gets the best treatment possible. You put your dreams on hold to pay her hospital bills. You did everything you could.”

“No, that’s not true,” you replied, biting your bottom lip.

You tried to find the courage to say it out loud. It was something that ate away at your soul. Your biggest mistake.

“I should have known something was wrong with her,” you said, rushing the words out. “At first she started misplacing things like her car keys, her glasses or the remote. She always had a good excuse, like was tired or stressed, but I should have known.”

“I misplace my keys all the time, angel. Sometimes it doesn’t mean anything. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“She’s my mom, I’ve known her all my life. I should have noticed something was wrong. If I had, maybe she’d still be with us, living in our old house.”

“C’mere,” he said, extending his arm toward you. You didn’t hesitate, you abandoned your seat on the sofa and wrapped your arms around him, your face buried in his chest. “I understand why you feel that way,” he said, stroking your hair. “But you did everything you could. You didn’t fail her. Alzheimer is... well it’s a sneaky disease. There are a lot of things we don’t understand. It’s unfair to blame yourself for something completely out of your control.”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his shirt. “But it still hurts.”

“I know,” he cooed, his fingernails grazing your scalp. “I know, my angel.”

You stayed like that for some time, your cheek pressed against his shirt. You focused on the calm rhythm of his breathing and tried to match it. He gently ran his fingers up and down your back, calming you almost instantly.

You were terrified to see your siblings again. Despite Bucky’s reassuring words, a part of you still believed that you could have done more to help your mom, and you were afraid your siblings would feel the same.

“It’s going to be okay,” Bucky said, seemingly reading your thoughts. “I won’t let them belittle your efforts.”

The next day, you called Wanda’s hotel and left a message with the receptionist. Wanda called you back a few hours later, saying that she would love to have dinner at your place instead of going out.

She sounded surprised, and you could tell she had a lot of questions, but she knew she wasn’t in your good graces yet so she simply told you that she couldn’t wait to see your apartment and spend the evening with you.

Meanwhile Bucky was having some sort of nervous breakdown.

A few days before the party, he started to obsessively clean his apartment. Every single room had that distinctive lemony scent, his homemade disinfectant, except your room. It was still a line he refused to cross no matter how strong the urge might be.

He often had those spells but they usually didn’t last more than a few hours. You could see the tears in his eyes and the disgust on his face; grimaces that had been triggered by the realization that he still couldn’t control his need to constantly clean and tidy. His OCD had been dormant, not gone.

You knew it was hard for him to meet new people. He had offered to invite your siblings because he knew it would make you feel more at ease. He didn’t care about his own needs. This man was willing to endure anything for you. How could you not fall in love with him?

You let him clean. You knew from past experience that it wasn’t something he could control and getting involved usually did more harm than good. You made sure he knew you were there and that you were not judging him in any way.

He felt so physically and emotionally drained afterwards that you simply held him in your arms until he fell asleep.

On the day of the party, you were chopping dried apricots in the kitchen while Bucky was making sure the chicken pieces weren’t sticking to the bottom of the pan.

You had wanted to order dinner from the restaurant down the street, and Bucky wanted to cook. You told him that cooking a meal for seven people was pretty stressful but he simply shrugged.

“I can do it, angel.”

“I know but you don’t have to do it.”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied with a sad smile.

You remembered him telling you that his ex-girlfriend often babied him in front of her friends and that it always made him feel weak and pathetic. He wanted to prove himself. He wanted to prove that, even with only one arm, he was able to cook a meal for an entire family.

“Okay, fine,” you reluctantly agreed. “But you’re not doing this alone.” He opened his mouth to protest but you raised your hand and touched a finger to his lips. “You can’t change my mind. I’ll be your sous-chef, and that’s final.”

So you ended up cutting vegetables for him. He made two tagines, one with meat and one with vegetables, in case anyone had any allergies or dietary restrictions.

Once the kitchen was spotless, you both went to your rooms to get ready for the night. It didn’t take you long so you checked on the tagines and waited for Bucky. The smell of harissa and coriander wrapped around you like a comforting hug.

You stole a dinner roll and checked the time on your phone. Nearly seven. A wave of anxiety rolled through the pit of your stomach. You took a deep, calming breath and decided to go check on Bucky.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you heard a deep, frustrated groan followed by a whine. Stifling a giggle, you tiptoed down the hallway towards his bathroom.

“C’mon, stay put or I’ll cut you!”

“Do you often threaten your hair?” you asked, leaning against the door frame. He gasped and jerked away from the sink. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Is everything okay?”

“I can’t do anything with my hair,” he complained. “I’m this close to shave the whole damn thing.”

You pushed yourself off the door frame and moved toward him. “Mhh, why not. A buzz-cut would make you look super dangerous.”

“You think so?” he frowned.

“Yeah,” you replied enthusiastically as you perched yourself on the counter by the sink. “A buzz-cut and a beard. Now that’s a look.”

He ran his hand over the dark stubble on his cheeks. “I already have the beard.”

“You’re halfway there.” You watched him consider what you were offering. “You know what, never mind. Your hair is too pretty to cut.”

“I should cut it though. It’s getting too long, I can’t style it.”

“Oh, poor you with your thick, fluffy hair,” you teased.

“It’s a gift, and also a curse,” he sighed with a whimsical grimace.

You laughed. “Come here, I’ll help you tame the monster on your head.”

He chuckled as he stepped between your parted legs. You took the hair dryer and a comb from the counter and started working on his hair. Despite its messy appearance, the comb ran smoothly through the strands.

“I think we need a safe word tonight,” you said while you worked.

“A safe word?” he repeated, confused. “Why would we need one?”

“Just in case,” you replied with a shrug. “I love my siblings but they can be quite a handful. So if you’re tired or if you feel overwhelmed, you just say the word and I’ll politely ask them to leave.”

“All right. Same goes for you.” He made a face. “What’s the safe word?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your eyes focused on his hair. “Flamingo?” You pulled back to look at him. “I saw an amazing documentary about baby flamingos the other day. See? It works.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, laughing. “Flamingo it is.”

You picked up his hair gel and applied some to his hair.

“There you go,” you said, smoothing the hair over his temples before sliding your fingers down the sculpted curve of his cheekbones. “Ready to break some hearts.”

It was a joke, but your voice came out breathy and small. Bucky didn’t say a word. He pressed himself closer to you, and you resisted the urge to wrap your legs around him.

He rested his hand on your thigh, then slid it from your thigh to your waist and lingered there for a few seconds. He gazed into your eyes for a moment; careful, cautious. You cupped his face between your hands, feeling the bristle on his cheeks against your palms. It was rough against your sensitive skin.

He slid his hand up your side, fingers passing over your ribs, and you let out a gasping sigh as he rested his hand over your heart.

“Did I break your heart, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low.

“Just cracked.”

He cupped the back of your neck and massaged lightly while he looked at you longingly. He continued to stare at you as you moved your hands to his chest, feeling the strong thud of his heart beneath your palm.

“I-uh,” he started, then licked his lips. “Angel, I-”

The intercom buzzed loudly, awakening the two of you from your trance. Bucky took a step back and closed his eyes. You were glad you were sitting, because your legs felt unusually weak.

“You ready?” he asked, breathless.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you nodded.

You followed Bucky to the kitchen and answered the intercom, giving Wanda the apartment number. Bucky busied himself setting the table, unable to look you in the eye. You didn’t know what to say.

Finally, he stopped moving around and faced you.

“Who am I tonight? Who do you want me to be?”

You had anticipated his question. After all it was a legitimate question to ask giving the nature of your relationship.

“Just you,” you told him. You were tired of lies and half-truths.

A knock at the door startled you.

You opened the door, your hands shaking uncontrollably. You couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of Wanda, Okoye and Scott standing in front of you, each with a bottle of wine. There were two men behind them, both looking extremely uncomfortable.

“Hey Splotchy, long time no see, right?”

Part 11

[magicalsalamander]

Lacuna

Pairing: Jin ⇆ Reader

Genre: Law Students | Werewolf | Childhood best friends to idiot enemies to lovers | F | A | S

Summary: Lacuna(n): (1) In law, a non liquet (commonly known as “lacuna in the law”) is any situation where there is no applicable law. (2) An unfilled space or interval; a gap.

You are well equipped at handling whatever life throws at you. You had worked hard to erase the past and mold a new you, and the future were to become a lawyer. Well, everything was planned expect for your ex best friend who came back into your life like a crashing gavel. Just when you thought you could deal with his presence, he was now your partner on a case that was bigger than you had ever imaged.

Words: 21K

Warning: Mature; explicit themes, sexual content, and violence.  Lots of law inaccuracies. Alcohol and  club situations. Heavy angst with lots of arguing. Previous trauma of abandonment, harsh words and feeling unworthy. Knotting, cunnilingus, fingering, mentions of impregnation, soft dom Jin, marking/claiming, and possessive behavior.

A/N: It’s been so long since I’ve put out something! I want to thank everyone for being so patient and always supporting me! Thank you @heyitsmee2 for reading over this early on. I apricate you!

*Story mildly edited due to time constraint, will edit further 

| Masterlist | Copyright 2020 © by magicalsalamander. All rights reserved.

You were no stranger to the game; surviving and trying to be someone in the charade of corporatism.  It was all too important to be unemotional. You’d soon find yourself in Prometheus place than on the highest rock on Olympus if you let yourself slip and you were sure of your path.

Calculation leads to quantification—and it takes only seven second to make an impression.

Your throat narrows with altitude, but the breadth of your career expands.

The raspy voice of the jazz singer was a rich wine as she caressed the vintage microphone intimately. The soft notes of the piano and band follow in tandem with the slow, romantic song she sung. The dark golden hue casted over the ballroom from the multitude of chandeliers only perpetuated the elegance of the atmosphere. Parties like this were suffocating despite being in a room sized for a hanger. You wouldn’t doubt either than some of the patrons here own their own planes.  

You down the rest of your wine nearly rolling your eyes at the romantic lyrics. When you were a little girl events like this were a dream, places like this gave promise of finding a prince charming. At least that’s what all the movies feed you and lead you to believe would happen until reality set in. This event wasn’t romantic in the slightest. It was to celebrate the 70th anniversary of the law firm. The entire point of the function tonight was to schmooze and be seen. As an intern, this was prime time for you. However, you suppose you were living the dream, just not a fairytale. You had worked hard to get this internship, nabbing one of the four spots that over thousands applied to. You had done what felt like to be the impossible—coming form a school that wasn’t ivy made it all the more surreal. Important business people, old and new money mixed in with ‘top of the food chain’ lawyers were all present and hiring opportunities post-graduation. That is if you don’t end up getting a job post with the firm, but a smart woman always keeps her options open.

The obligatory greeting and sucking up to had already passed and it was the lull of time where everyone was wondering who would be the first to leave. Your senses go off as you catch a two of four making his way through the crowd towards you. Standing up as if you hadn’t caught glimpse of Logan from your peripheral. You smile at those who you had shared the table with, names already forgotten, number three’s included, silently bidding them an underserved excuse me. You grab at the bottom of your dress and move through the crowd. You miss the scrunch in brow from Logan as he picks up speed after you. He was the typical American type of handsome with brown hair, strong brows, square face, shadowed beard, lean and tall. Logan was nice, made his name memorable by persistence, but the guy couldn’t take a hint. How he’s made it this far has been a mystery to you.

As you break the crowd going into the hallway, you hear him calling your name. Acting as if you couldn’t hear him, you ask a server where the restroom was and quickly headed in that direction. He began jogging to catch up with you. Your pace began to pick up too. You counted down the seconds, four, three, two—the bathroom was still to far to accommodate for your sudden pick up in counting.

“Y/n! Wait, oh, sorry, excuse me.” Timely a cart full of new hors d'oeuvre blocks his path.

Seeing his distraction, you abruptly turned and head down another hall from the main meant for staff. You reached for the first door and to your muttered curse when it was locked. You jogged to the second door which opened and closed it behind you as if fire was at your feet. Not bothering to turn on the light, you backed up further into the closet until you hit something. You had expected to hit a wall, but instead what you bumped into what oddly felt human, a large one at that. When they oofed, you scampered away. Fear thickening in you as you rapidly apologized under your breath. Instinct dictated you get out, as you opened the door to leave the heavy sound of footsteps outside had you closing it right back. The person with you murmured a beginning of a question but you quickly reached up, cupping the mouth of whomever was inside with you. Shushing them they quieted up instantly. The slight stubble under your hand indicated it was a man. At this point you didn’t care if they were someone important. You winced as you heard Logan calling your name again. The man murmured a muffled question that you couldn’t understand and you shushed them again until the footsteps outside quieted.

Sighing in relief you removed your hand from his mouth, using the same hand to search for a light switch. With an apology on the tip of your tongue turning to face the stranger, you froze, staring back equally as motionless as him in shock.

Kim Seokjin.

Number four.

Dressed to the nines in a black suit that clung to him tightly. His broad shoulders were pronounced, and with his height tall he took a lot of space. His thick, dark hair was pushed away from his face. His eyes flashed red before it disappeared back into its espresso color. He looked gorgeous. You’d never utter that out loud, but you couldn’t ignore it either. It irritated you even more. He irritated you.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” You drawled out the oh incredulously.

A smirk pulled at his thick lips. “Hello to you too.”

“I never knew you to be so forward, at least take me to dinner first.”

Looking around you realized you were in a janitor’s closet. The scent of bleach was thick, taking up as much space as Seokjin’s personality in the confined space.

“What are you doing here?” You asked while wiping the hand that was over his mouth on your dress not so subtly.

He shrugged, suffocating a laugh at your gesture. “Needed a break.”

That was hard to believe. Jin was a natural at talking to people. He made it seem easy. He always had this sense of composure and poise about him. Staring at eachother his eyes broke from your gaze as he looked you up and down. Suddenly feeling self-conscious you adjusted your dress. The black satin dress you were wearing suddenly felt tighter than when you put it on. Under his gaze you’ve always felt this way, vulnerable, but you’ve learned how to conceal it better over time.

“What?” You hissed at him when he still stared.

“This isn’t the first time you caught me in a closet.” Quietly he followed up with, “Reminds me of the first time we met.”

You don’t know what bothers you more, Seokjin’s casual reference to the past or the fact that you suddenly are placed back there. You remember being terrified, wrapping your blue, pilling blanket over your head only letting your head poke through. You had been reading under your blanket when you heard thumping coming from your closet. With your flashlight pointing at your closet you swallowed harshly as the sound came again. Your parents had told you that monsters were fake, but the sounds sounded real.

Your light was shaking on the white double doors. “H-Hello?” you bravely called out. The thumping stopped. You gulped inching closer. You were taught to be brave. Your dad said that monsters couldn’t hurt you, especially if you don’t show fear. Like the book you were reading, “Where the Wild Things Are”, you like Max, could confront the monsters too. You could become and make them friends with them. You were sure of it.  

“H-hey,” swallowing hard, ”I’m opening the door, don’t bite me okay. I won’t hurt you.”

When no response resounded you breathed in deeply through your nose. Reaching out and yanking the door open you came face to face, inches away, from a boy hiding in your closet. A majority of your clothes were pulled from their hangers and piled on the floor which he was laying on. Similarly in equal fright from you bursting open the door, a shirt he had over his head fell off revealing furry grey dog ears.  At the sound of your gasp, he gasped, and a tail that swept to the floor wrapped around his middle.

Buffering in the moment you stared at the boy who seemed to be around the same age as you. Recognition filters through you, “Max?” Your eyes lit up in wonder.

The boy squinted at you, almost upset. “My name’s not Max, it’s Seokjin!”

“Why do you have ears and a tail like him then?”

His brows furrowed, “Because I’m a—.”

You heard a knock on your door from your mother hushing Seokjin instantly. “Sweetie, are you still awake?”

The boy lurched forward cupping a hand over your mouth seeing you were going to respond. “You can’t tell anyone I’m here.”

You whispered, “Why?”

“Y/N?”

His eyes gleamed as he silently pleaded with you, switching between the shadow from under your bedroom door and your eyes, bidding for you to understand.

Nodding in understanding, somehow you understood. Your mom from the other side of the door sighed, “I know you’re pretending to sleep, Pumpkin. Put the book away. I know its Saturday but remember lights out by 9.”

“Okay, Mom.” Finally speaking up.

“G’night.”

“G’night.”

She walked away.

Seokjin studied you carefully, eyeing you skeptically. “You’re not scared?”

“No, should I be?”

He paused truly thinking. “Yes. You should be.”

“Well, I’m not. I’m brave.”

He’s getting nervous and began muttering to himself. “You shouldn’t have seen me. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. It just smelled so nice.” The last part was whispered out low enough where you couldn’t hear it.

“How did you get in?”

He pulled you into the closet down next to him, closing the door behind. The flashlight was between you both pointing towards the ceiling tightly grasped between your hands. His hands over you. His gaze serious and intent. “Promise you won’t tell anyone, swear on it! Swear on your life!”

You felt like you were being presented the ultimate challenge. This boy was trusting you with his all, maybe this was your adventure. Your destiny. You could be honorable. You nodded, “I swear, I swear.”

“What are you though? Why do you have ears and a tail? Are they real?”

“They’re real.” He said haughtily before pridefully confessing. “I’m a werewolf.”

Your eyes were sparkling, the blanket surrounding you long forgotten and dropped. “Oh, wow! Can I touch your ears?”

He nodded. Your reaction to his secret was surprising to him. He had been told by his parents and everyone in the pack that he should never real his truth. Humans had been enemies for centuries, hunting his kind since the beginning of time. Although, the kind had lived amongst humans for centuries, finding ways to blend in and look alike. The difference was the ability to shift into their natural form.

“Why are you not, like, you know—a wolf?”

“Papa said I can shift fully when I become a man.”

You carefully reached up and felt. He shivered at the touch. “Puppy.”

He growled at you, “Don’t call me puppy.”

“But you’re cute.”

He blushed, scrambling up and pushing your closet door open before heading over to your window. “I have to go.” He began climbing out of your window landing on the ground. Your home was one floor.

You stuck your head out of the window. “Wait!”

He turned around,

“Will I see you again?”

He looked around, nodding before he disappeared between the trees.

It was nearly magnetic the way you both clicked. It was nearly painful being apart from eachother after that night. He would come to your window and sneak into your room almost every night. The following school year you finally went to the same school, Jin having convinced his parents he wanted to change schools. That’s when you both became inseparable. Years later he still snuck into your room, even though he could come through the front door, and still hid in your closet just to scare you. Although, you learned to growl back at him.

It was your normal, but at some point things began to change.

More specifically you were no longer kids. Puberty hit and you were no longer innocent to the maturity that began to bloom in you both. You knew Jin was always touchy. He would hug you and sometimes his hand would linger on you longer than necessary. He would lean in sometimes to smell you, nuzzling his nose against your temple. Initially it had bothered you, the sensation ticklish, but he had explained it quickly it was a werewolf thing. That didn’t change the way your heart would flip each time though.

Jin grew taller than you towering over you, and signs of man began replacing the baby fat. Time was good to him. He found a pack and you no longer spent every waking moment together. It wasn’t that you weren’t welcome, the six boys in his pack were nice, but you had your own group of friends that you began hanging out with. You suppose that was the beginning of the unraveling of your relationship. Naïve and feeling lost you latched onto the first group that accepted you.

Even if they weren’t good for you. You were becoming aware of popularity and boys as it was the only topic they choose to discuss. You began to feel self-conscious because your friends all had boyfriends before, but you still hadn’t. When you introduced the girls to Jin, your presence was made solely into providing information about the boys. The pack were isolationist, but you suppose that’s what made them more attractive besides their looks to hormonal teenage girls. Only now do you realize they accepted you was because you knew Jin and his friends. Specifically, one of the girls, Jenna—if you could remember correctly, would always asking you about Jin.

The breaking point was when Jenny, who knew of your obvious unrequited crush, finally asked you. “You wouldn’t mind if I ask him out right?”

“Jin?” You repeated his name as if you were unsure you heard her right. Although you heard his name coming out of her mouth more times than you can count.

“Yeah, Jin. I mean, you don’t like him, right?” Like a snake she drew out the last words, expression full of pity to resemble comfort. It didn’t help when the other girls at the table all had a similar expression, encouraging her and cornering you.

“I-I—.” You were cut off as another girl spoke up.

“Be real Jenny, they’ve been friend since forever. If he liked Y/n, he would’ve said so already. He doesn’t see her that way.”

The other girl sitting next to her laughed, “Totally doesn’t.”

Blinking back the tears, her words weren’t wrong. Embarrassment flushes through you. Embarrassed that you had even believed that Jin’s affection towards you could ever mean more. The fact that he had made your heart skip a beat. Swallowing your heartache, with a voice more confident than you felt, “Yeah. We’re only friends.”

Squeals and laughter echo out throughout the table in excitement. “Oh my god! Then when you two start dating, you should introduce us to the rest of the friends. I mean Y/n hasn’t done it, but I know you will.”

You were quickly forgotten. The bell rang and the all of them got up as they giggled and walked away to their classes. Sitting alone at the table, you stare at your tray, food partially nibbled on. A single tear falls down onto the table before you suck up the other that threatened to fall. How could you be so stupid. How could you have misread things all along? You get up from the table in a hurry, nearly tripping as your foot caught.

As you step out of the bench of the picnic table you make eye contact with Jin who had been standing at a lunch table a few tables away. The rest of the pack moving around him, but he was still staring at you.

Your embarrassment flushes deeper, had he had heard it all? Your heart breaks even further as you force a smile at him and he returned the gesture. The simple response solidifies everything—you’re just friends.

You miss the way his eyes follow you out of the lunchroom.

The heartache only gets worse as Jin begins making excuses on why he can’t hang out. Claiming he has pack things to deal with. You also begin making excuses no longer hanging out with the girls, even though they don’t seek you out. You instead dedicating your time in the library. You begin reading the books tucked away in the furthest corner of the library, vintage leatherbound books on laws, just to distract yourself. It becomes your new solace.

A few months pass, the sudden silence between you became increasingly awkward. You hadn’t realized how Jin was entangled with every single part of your life. You grew annoyed because your parents would always ask where Jin was. The visible change was when you began noticing the extra portion at the dinner table for him was no longer there. The look they began to give you, seeing the distress in you began to wear you thin.

Deciding enough was enough you decide to confront him, but still cowardly enough to do it between passing. Walking through the halls you headed towards his lockers, knowing he’d be there. His locker just a bit in from an intersection of the halls. When you finally catch sight of him he stood there with two other boys form his pack, Jimin and Hoseok. You swallowed hiding behind the wall where you could hear them, waiting for the two to leave so you could get to speak to him alone.

“Come on hyung. Come on another run tonight.” You could hear Jimin asking

Jin closed his locker after switching out his books then leaning up against it. “I can’t tonight.”

“Why? Gotta go see your girlfriend?” Jimin teases.

Jin hesitated.

You couldn’t see his expression from your place. Your heart sunk, lower lip trapped between your teeth. Had Jenny finally asked him out? Your heart was beating out of your chest.

“No, fuck off Jimin, you already know why.”

Your brows furrow. Has something been going on with Jin? How come he hasn’t told you. He used to tell you everything. You miss the conversation slightly as you contemplate what you’ve been missing with Jin. You had so much to ask him. The question on the tip of your tongue too was –had he finally fully shifted? He had always told you that he had wanted you to be the first he showed his wolf.

Zoning back in you hear Hoseok question. “Come to think of it, haven’t seen Y/n in a while, she doing okay?”

“Normally you’re like a dog in heat around her.”

“No I’m not! I don’t see her like that.”

“You sure?”

“I don’t have time for feelings or emotions.”

You cover your mouth, swallowing your feeling. You suffocate the tears. Everything the girls said were confirmed.

Jin had been so engulfed in his protecting his ego, he hadn’t been able to sense you just around the corner. He then smells it. He smells you. His head twirled towards the wall where he knew you were hiding just behind. He knows your there. He clenched his fist, he wants to go after you but he can’t, it would only prove the teasing.

Clenching your books closer to your chest you run away. Your mind working a thousand miles an hour. Lost in your turmoil you miss that you’re walking straight into someone. Stumbling slightly you look up seeing the person you didn’t want to run into. You don’t pause to apologize or recognize her yelling at you. You needed to get away. The whole day you manage to evade him and everyone—you praise that it was Friday.

Coming home your parents were sitting in the kitchen, the only light on in the house was hanging over the dinning table. Your parents look up at you sadly. “Honey, we have some bad news.”

Your backpack slouched off your shoulders and onto the floor as you took a seat.

Your mother swallowed, placing her hand on top of yours. “We’re moving. I’m sorry, Pumpkin. I know you have so many friends here. Your father’s job is forcing him to transfer to the city, the plant here is shutting down.”

You remain stoic, processing the information. However, you smile, squezzing her hand back in assurance. “How soon can we go?”  

Their expression registered shocked. Clearing their throats as they somberly told you, “We’re leaving next week.”

Nodding you get up from the table, leaving your parents apologizing to you. You dragged yourself to your room. Standing alone in the darkness, words found you again. “Not soon enough.”

You moved away, and soon what it was like to be around him everyday was forgotten. You became strangers. An unpleasant memory.

You had done college, and decided early on that you wanted to go into law. Those leather bound, vintage law books was the only thing you actively brought with you from the past. Law was consistent, but ever changing. It allowed you to find a voice, a place where arguments meant something—your voice meant something. It paved the way for a new you and when you entered law school you flourished under the pressure. Everything felt like progress, at least until the day you showed up at the internship. You no longer had the luxury of pretending. Standing in the attorney’s office was Jin among the two other interns. Seeing him first saw him again felt like all wind had been sucked out of you. It was like a ghost had aspirated and so did the sting of rejection. It was all accompanied by an odd sense of longing that passed through you. You saw the way his eyes widened with recognition when he saw you.

But you both made no motion towards the other, frozen in space and time.

Ironically, time should have done its job and all healing had been done, but scars were just thicker scabs.

The nostalgia quickly washed away as it twisted into the familiar shape of disdain towards him. He was brilliant and It was irritating, so you always were sharp with him, cold even, not willing to lose to him. A rivalry quickly evolved between you. He seemed to feel the same way as he would always retaliate back. You couldn’t last a few minutes without bickering. Words just as venomous and an amused smirk always followed.

“What are you doing? Did I mess up a secret meeting?” He throws your question back at you, grounding you back into the present.

Looking at Seokjin now, he had grown up well. He had grown in height, completely towering over you. His shoulders were broad tapering off like a V to a tiny wait. He looked great in an all black suit. Thick, dark hair pushed away from his face showed off his thick brows and symmetric features. You had eyes, but your mouth would never admit it out loud how good he looked.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Avoiding Logan.”

“Logan?” You missed the way his red eyes darken deeply as it looks black. He had heard the footsteps, but now he could put a name to it. “Are you fucking him?” He questions easily, never one for a filter.

Your eyes widen, the crudeness expected despite your aggressive bickering. “Are you seriously asking me that Seokjin?” The though was so absurd and ridiculous. Has he lost his mind. What more you had never even touched this type of topic with him before, who was he to ask about your sex life.

He tucked his hands into the pocket of his slacks. “I don’t know, it’s just an obvious conclusion to draw. Considering he follows after you like a lost puppy.” He feigned a look of pity. “It’s pathetic.”

The tone he takes with talking about Logan surprises you. He never outwardly showed that the man irritated him. You had seen them chatting around the office even. Considering your desk were next to one another it was inevitable. Anger filled you again, was he calling it pathetic because he was pursuing you? Bastard.

Lazily he leaned up against the shelf, as if he was waiting for a reaction he knew he’d get from you.

“I can’t deal with you right now.” you groan, an onset headache coming on from how childish it all was. Growing frustrated and hotter by the second stuck in the closet with him. You turned to leave.

“Leaving so soon? Don’t you want to wait for him to come back around?”

“Seokjin, will you cut it out. What is with you right now?”

He shrugged, still measuring you with a hardened gaze and lips tight in anger. “Nothing.”

Why was he so angry? Earlier you had noticed that all the bigwigs were laughing easily at his jokes. Something you couldn’t deny about Seokjin was his charisma. It was easy be persuaded by him, you used to be stupid enough to be swayed by it too. Shouldn’t he be on cloudy nine, probably having already solidified a job post grad.

“Whatever. Enjoy your night Seokjin. Don’t suck off potential employers too much.”

That had him laughing. “Ever one to need footsteps to be followed. Lead the way then.”

You glare at him in what you picture to be intimidating at him. Pulling open the door. “Fuck you Seokjin.”

You stomped away, faintly hearing the laughing coming from the closet. Luckily, no one was in the hallway.

You had been aimlessly staring at an one of the many orange sticky notes you had tacked onto the glass pane between the desk. Pink was current deadlines, orange upcoming, and blue was for your frustrations. The low cubicles truly didn’t provide privacy, but it wasn’t permanent anyways so you didn’t really put effort into personalizing it. You were trying to read the orange sticky note with the date November 29th ominously written on it. You couldn’t for the life of you remember what was due on that date. The pink note next to it reading the date December 4th was a blaring reminder of the last day of your internship.

Awakening from your thoughts you heard Logan still been droning on to you about whatever he was talking about. You had stopped listening after he called your name, you hummed like you were paying attention, then zoned out. He was leaning on the glass, his desk situated right next to yours. Jin’s was situated across from yours, but he wasn’t at his desk at the moment. At least that saved you a headache.

Your phone rings and you answer it instantly, cutting off whatever he was saying. You give him a pretend fake smile, one to which he luckily accepts sitting back at his desk. Its quick as the secretary is hanging up on you before you can tell her that you’ll be there in a moment. Gathering your things, taking an extra pen just in case, you head towards the elevators.

Knocking on the door twice you let yourself in quietly behind you. Your boss was a passive man, preferring those to act than be told what to do. Turning around taking in the office before pausing noticing the back of someone’s head already sitting in one of the two chairs in front of the desk. The chair meant to occupy your boss was empty.

Remembering where you are you and ignoring him as you stride until you plop yourself into the empty seat. You refuse to look at him, instead sorting out your tablet to take notes on. You just had to wait until your boss came in the room—you could be patient. You had a vague idea of what he may want to talk to you about, but with Jin here you were at a lost. What was he doing here anyways? Had the secretary gotten his appointments mixed up? It’s been two weeks since the event. You had spoken to him since, but it had been the usual bickering. Something had changed though, it was something atmospheric between the two of you, but you couldn’t place an instance on the beginning of the feeling. Oddly, you found yourself searching for him whenever you came to the office, which had brought its own set of turmoil that you’ve yet to unravel. Now that you were sitting next to him, somehow you felt the sense of pettiness overcome you again.

Finally looking at him you notice how great he looked today. He wore common slacks and a button up, but he made the ensemble look great.

Jin asked, “What are you here for?”

Crossing your legs over you flip open your notebook. “None of your business Kim.” You hate that you had done such a good job hiding the layers of hatred and anger, but you could even recognize the coldness in your tone.

He rolled his eyes, “Typical.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Clue me in Seokjin.”

He shrugged, clearly wanting you to put the pieces together. Rubbing at your scalp muttering under your breath. “It’s too early for this,” checking your watch, “it’s only eight-thirty in the morning, I haven’t had my coffee yet, and I have to deal with guy.”

“That explains your snappiness. You do seem constipated.”

You audibly gasp, a retort on the tip of your tongue when the door burst open to reveal your boss. A grin already on Jin’s face knowing he got the last word in before he neutralizes it. Paying you both no mind he continued grumbling into his phone that’s tucked between his neck and ear as his other hand holds a cup of coffee and a stack of paperwork in the other. Min Yoongi, your boss, was a man of few words elusive at times, but his tongue was sharper than any knife. His mind was brilliant too, a legend amongst law students. you had heard stories of his infamous mock trials when he was in school and how he had won trails out like a daredevil. He was intimidating to say the least.

Jin’s gaze was still on you before he turned to your boss who plopped into his chair. He seems frazzled, tie a bit disheveled and dress shirt not as freshly pressed as it should be. The fact that you looked kept together in front of him was kind of embarrassing. It was common sense that interns should look that way. Did his appearance have something to do with the 29th? Shit, you really needed to figure out what event was happening that day.

He flung a thick packet in a folder over to you and Jin. You flipped open the folder and read the first page. Peaking over from yours to Seokjin’s you see he was given the exact same paper.

“I’m assigning this case to the both of you.”

“Mr. Min, I don’t mean to impose on your judgement, but I can handle this on my own.” You squinted as you read it over. It seems like a generic divorce case based on the short preliminary interview.

“Can you?” Jin quirked a brow at you. You already have insults on the tip of your tounge but he continued. “Look, I’m just saying because remember that one time—.”

You bark out his name before he can continue, already knowing what story he was going to reference.

“Mr. Kim, Ms. Y/L/N.” You both instantly shut up. “If you both are treating this opportunity simply as some game between the both of you then I’m sorry to inform you that you may not be needed anymore. This is court of law. So tell me—do I need to provide this opportunity to someone else?”

At the same time you both respond. “No, Sir.”

The way he was glaring at the both of you had your toes curling in your shoes.

“Look, Ms. Y/L/N, I’ll admit you are smart, just as much as I think Mr. Kim is capable of handling his own cases. I need the both of you on it because this isn’t an ordinary case. It won’t only go to trial in court, but Kinds court too.”

The only thing you hadn’t expected to come to find out was he was also a kind. Kind being something they used in the human world to refer to their supernatural counterpart for political correctness. One afternoon not long into your internship, but months ago, you had called Jin wolf boy in the breakroom, not knowing your boss was walking in. Anyone else would think it was a passing comment, but the narrowed look that he gave you had you crystalizing. It had become second nature to you identifying when someone was otherly. Yoongi only commented as he walked out to make sure that you both keep it that only you knew.

Jin stiffened next to you, his gaze snapping up to look at Yoongi. An exchange of glances went between them that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Seeing as you already know about our kind Ms. Y/L/N, I would like that you both work on this together. Prepare it for the courts and depending on how it goes there the Kind’s will deal with it following. Frankly, we need you on this case to keep things right on the human end. And Seokjin we need you because you have the knowledge that comes with it. I expect the both of you can approach this and prepare a case that is thorough. We cannot risk the underlying truth getting out to the public. Dress it up how you have to, leave the kind out of it until human laws can punish as needed.” He centers you both with a stare that’s unwavering, even you feel the expressive. “Do I make myself clear.”

“Yes.” Simultaneously you both respond.

Yoongi finally sits back taking a sip from his coffee that was still just a little too hot. “Everything you need is in the folder. Now get out.”

Beginning to gather you stuff, relaxing your jaw just a bit, “Thank you Sir.” You stride out of the room without looking back.

You leave not bothering to hold it for him. He was right behind you, closing the door so it wouldn’t slam shut. He watched as you strut down the hall. He huffed realizing you weren’t going to wait to talk about the case. Calling your name does no good as you still keep towards the elevators.

When the door closes, you take a moment. Truth be told, the gravity of it is not lost on you. This was going to force you and him to be close again. Backing down would prove you and the grin that would be on Seokjin’s face knowing you gave up would be enough to keep you up at night for the rest of your life. You swear you could handle it. It is just Seokjin. Your career depends on this and doing well.

But why was your heart beating so fast?

Sitting in an empty conference room, you were going over the material again. It seemed like a regular case of infidelity and the wife was filing for divorce. After Min’s pressing of the importance of this case it felt like he was mocking you. This was a case that felt “practical”. In school you had gone over these types of cases a thousand times—introduction on legal fairness and getting the most for your client. Just because it involved the kind doesn’t mean the law will treat it any different.

At least that’s what it all seemed to be.

Standing up from your seat when you heard the door handle clicking open you put on a an air of professionalism. A short woman, who nearly curled in on herself shuffled into the room. Her blue cardigan nearly engulfed her being, but her maxi dress underneath disguised most of her petite figure anyways. A male followed behind her with a hand on her back. That had you breaking your professionalism for a split second as you lifted your brow. The way he held her was anything but platonic. You wondered shortly if that was the man in the ex-husband in question.

Extending your hand out to her in greeting. “Hello, Ms. West, I’m Y/N. Pleasure to meet you.”

In the softest voice she greeted you back. You turn to greet the male he introduced himself as Damien Caldwell. With your hand still out towards him, he refused to shake your hand. Mentioning something along the lines of scent tainting. Pretending you understood you signaled them to take a seat.

You all take a seat with Jin next to you and them across.

Carefully observing her you monitor that she was fidgeting a lot, clearly nervous.

Jin glanced at you and his expression was conveying, “Stop it, you’re making her nervous.”

You forced a smile in his direction, reading into his silent message. “Fine.”

Jin adjust himself, pen in hand gesturing towards them. “Mrs. Gloria West , can you please restate your case?” Although you both had the intake form in front of you, you needed her to state clearly what she was here for.

She begins fidgeting, biting her lip tears welding up in her eyes. Damien gently began rubbing her back. “You can do this. This is your story to tell.”

She nods, sniffling, finally looking up and you finally get a glimpse of her face. Her delicate features look worn out, dark circles under her eyes.

Your features soften, and you give her a genuinely soft smile. Handing her a tissue she thanked you softly. Dabbing the corners of her eyes she began, “My,” she licked her lips as if uttering the words brought bitterness to her, “husband has been cheating on me. I found out he has another family.” She reached into her purse pulling out a card that says Happy Father’s Day. “I found it in his underwear drawer when I was putting his clothes away last week.”

Jin followed up. “You’ve previously stated that your husband has claimed you, is this correct?”

“Yes.” She pushed aside the collar of her cardigan exposing the flaring bite marks where fangs met skin.

Pen pausing on paper you forced your jaw to stay closed. You hadn’t really prepared yourself for what claiming really meant. The primal signature was jarring. The two puncture wounds looked poorly scared, the tissue surrounding it somehow still rejecting the mark.

She covered it up again. “I was young and naïve when we first met, just out of high school and didn’t have much experience. He was five years my senior. I didn’t understand what it all meant at the time. I thought the butterflies I got seeing him meant he was my mate. I was hopelessly in love.” Tears brimmed in her eyes again, but she sniffled preventing them from falling.  “He told me I was his mate. I believed him. I let him mark me.” She spoke the words as if they burned her. “We got married three years ago, right after he marked me.”

You were disgusted, stomach unsettled, forced marriage seemed so archaic. Your fist curled under the table. You didn’t understand the depth of what happened in the kind context, but it still irked you. You didn’t let it show on your face though.

Damien was getting restless, clearly irate.

Jin visibly tensed. You see his jaw clench. You fill in for him. “Daniel West, your husband, how did you know he wasn’t your mate?” The word sounded unfamiliar in your mouth. You had heard it spun around before, but never truly knew the meaning. Although you could conclude that it seemed to imply partner.

She looked to Damien and her face seemed to lighten up, dark circles diminishing, as she looked at him. He had the same look at her. Clearly you could tell they were in love. “I found Damien. I knew it was the real thing because it hurt being apart. I couldn’t get him out of my head. Just a touch and it felt electric. I can’t explain it, but I just…knew. I just knew he was it.”

“Is there any other signs of another partner or family?”

“He smells like her.” She swallowed harshly. “He smells like other women too, but her the most.”

“Is there any other factors that are telling? Like photo evidence?”

“No.” You tilted your head considering it over. You couldn’t use smell in court to prove infidelity. You breathed in harshly, slouching forward. How were you supposed to find evidence?

Jin hasn’t spoken the entire time, lost in thought and focusing on the incoming information. “Are there any children?”

She nodded.

“How many? Please identify them.” She goes on to list two children, one three years old and a newborn.  

Jin stared at the Damien for a moment. “I know this is a sensitive question, however, I must ask this. Did you mark him?”

It seems Jin had already predicted Damien’s response as the sound of paper crumpling in Damien’s fist was loud. His fist shook form the strength of his anger. Gloria reached over grabbing onto his leg, and his grip loosened up slightly.

She apologized to him. His fist completely unclenched as both of his hands cupped her face. “No, no, no, honey. Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault. You know that right.”

She closed her eyes, calming and basking in the affection. “I know.”

You blushed yourself, feeling as if you had intruded in an intimate moment. You can’t help but follow your instincts telling you to look at Jin. You feel like you see Seokjin for who he is, not how you’ve constructed him. At the same time you find yourself suddenly reminded—he was different. Stern and cold, eyes empty of all the things that used to make him goofy. It was as if you had lost the dictionary. Unable to translate a language that was once native to you. His quirky awkward fillers and jokes have matured into standards. He holds punctuation in his tone, powerful. Calculating in a way you didn't know he could be. Your eyes follow the curve of his plump lips, the curve of his nose and then the entire profile. It feels intimate.

You pause and wonder if Seokjin has a mate. Did he look at them like that too?

You pause diffusing those thoughts, you shouldn’t be thinking of him that way. Focusing back on the case at hand you know mating is something that cant be proven scientifically. It’s a feeling.

She blushed, taking both of her mates hands into hers and placing them on her lap. With more confidence she turned back to you both. “No. I didn’t know then that it had to be both. Daniel told me that marking me would be enough for the both of us. I didn’t realize it until later. When I brought it up he told me I was wrong, that I didn’t know any better. That people were just trying to put ideas into my head and he knew best. I believed him, until I felt the real feeling.”

“You will have a trail before the elders after this, are you aware of that?” Jin says.

“Yes.”

With a thoughtful pause, Jin smiled reaching out to shake their hands. “That concludes questions for today. Thank you both for your time.”

Reaching out to Gloria, you shake her hand, “You’re very brave for this. We’ll do whatever we can to help.”

She smiled, patting your hand. “Thank you.”

You help escort them to the door and they assure you they know the way out. Shutting the door with a click you find Seokjin hunching over his notes. All sense of comfort he offered earlier and professionalism drained form him.

Eyeing him curiously, you asked, “What’s wrong?”

“This…this…this is worst case scenario.” He says.

“Can’t she just get rid of the mark? Things like this are reversable right? She found her mate,” you say the last word with uncertainty as its unfamiliar on your tongue. Logical solutions are the only way you can navigate.

“No, Y/n. it doesn’t work like that.” Voice accusatory.

You shrink, feeling as he had called you stupid indirectly. His fingers couldn’t stop fidgeting over the papers, unable to look at you. “The mark is permanent and can’t be undone. She’s bound to him, but he wasn’t.” He raises his voice towards the end.

“Why are you getting angry?”

When he looked up at you his eyes are red. “You don’t get it.”

You falter. His words hit hard and ring like a ghost putting you back into your old room. Those words engraved like a scar on your heart. Pulling back the scar you are put back in time.

Pacing more folded clothes in the cardboard boxes you glance out your window. It was a full moon.

You couldn’t sleep so you began packing, you were due to move out the following day.

Standing up, you went to the window, staring at the moon. Your eye follows the bush and thick trees that line the property. The night seemed to be so quiet and clear. You felt suffocated in your room, your thoughts making you claustrophobic. You pushed open the window, carefully to make the least noise as possible. Going back to your boxes you fished out a jacket and put on shoes. You slipped through and hit the grass with a thud. Closing your window behind you, you turn back towards the beginning of the forest.

Suddenly a wave of sadness fills you as you remember how Jin used to always come through the same bushes to see you. Clenching your fist and tucking your jacket tighter over you, you force the thoughts of Jin out of your head.

You push pass the bushes, the light of the moon enough to light your way. You follow a faint overgrown carved out path.  In all truth you had only ventured out a few times into the forest each time with him. Jin had always warned you that it wasn’t safe, but he wasn’t here to tell you otherwise. You could make your own choices. Remembering that there was a small ravine nearby you began heading towards it knowing it was somewhere nearby. The sounds of crickets was the only thing you heard besides the crunching of your shoes on mulch.

The air grew noticeably heavier with a mist and you could hear the soft sound of water running. Heading down a slope you end up at the shore of a riverbed. The water was running gently over the darkened stones underneath, just a bit further down the river picked up, frothing as it hit protruding stones. You dip your hand into the spring water, the cold causing you to shiver.

For a moment you can imagine that it’s just you in the world.

Tomorrow this would be all but a dream.

From across the bed, along the other shoreline, twigs crunch. Ripping your hand form the water you freeze in place.  Scanning the shoreline, you couldn’t see anything. Your mind pictured a thousand things it could be. Even in the dark you could make out red eyes looking at you. The being shifted to an opening on the shoreline before taking on the large silhouette of wolf. Its fur was black, dark as the sky.

You stayed put, afraid to rile it up by running despite all instincts saying to do so. It stepped closer, entering the water and trudged closer to you. You weren’t ready to die. It held your gaze the entire time. As it grew closer the wolf was larger than what you’d expect to be average, it was more comparable to a grizzly bear.

It kept coming closer and your heart even louder in your ears. You lost your balance falling on your ass with a shriek. You weren’t quick enough to recover as it was hovering over you. You could feel its hot breath fanning over you with its heavy breaths. It growled and your muscles tensed in fear. It just hovered over you, you wondered if it was waiting for you to make a move.

Willing your eyes to open, all at once you felt like you had recognized the beast. “J-Jin?”

Sensing your fear, it then whined. Then he is shifting, limbs elongating and spine curving as he growled through the process. You can’t bear to look at him as you hear the sound of bone cracking and popping. The sound having goosebumps pill your flesh.

"What are you doing out here?" His voice was deep and cold, lacking its usual warmth. When you turn to look at him you no longer see a massive wolf but Jin. His eyes were still red and you stare, trapped within the color. It’s the first time you��ve ever seen it. The tattered clothing that had stuck to his previous form manifested in torn pants, but he was shirtless.

Wrinkling your nose. Just when you thought you could get away from him, he manifest. “I can be here if I want. Who are you to say I can’t?”

His wolf hadn’t settled, taking your challenge personal rather than rational. “Its too dangerous.”

“We haven’t spoken in so long and the first thing you do is yell at me.”

His expression softened, but he still appeared stern. “Go home.”

“Really Jin?”

“Go home!”

“Do you really not care about me? What you said to Jimin, is it really true?”

When he remained quiet, you found your answer. You bit your lip, forcing yourself to suffocate the tears.

“You don’t understand.” He heaved.

“Obviously, so why! Why won’t you talk to me!” Your nerves finally snap. Tears were prickling at your eyes regardless of how much you fought to keep them down.

“Can’t you give me some space! You just need to give me space sometimes.”

“No! This isn’t you, you’d tell me everything. There are no secrets between us. I want answers. Is it that easy to you to throw away everything we have?”

He growled and stepped up to you, inches away looking down at you. Your neck was kinked back staring back at him with equal challenge. His nostrils flare as he takes in your sense. His chest rumbled.

“I don’t want you to know! I don’t want you know about that part of me. So stay out of it! Leave it alone and me alone. I don’t need you.”

Feeling so small, it hadn’t occurred to you that he didn’t see you as important enough. You hated how much you had relied on him. You feel like a child whining to a parent. Maybe the girls were right. Jin would never look at you like that. You were an outsider to his real world anyways. “Fine. You know what, you’re right I don’t understand and never will. I see what I mean to you now.” Tears were rolling down your cheeks but you swiped them away as soon as they broke.

“Y/n.” The anger melted away from his being instantly, realizing what he said. He wants to take it all back, but he can’t find the right words. He stepped towards you and you took two steps back. You wanted to get away from him.

“You’ll never have to see me again.” You laughed, but it wasn’t in humor, instead full of bitterness.

“What?”

“I’m leaving.”

“What do you mean leaving?”

“What do you care Jin? Aren’t you getting what you want? You don’t need me. You’ll never have to worry about me getting in your business or caring about you again. I’m moving tomorrow.”

“Goodbye.” You turned away from him. His red eyes imprinting in your memory like a branding. You swore before you turned away you saw tears, but you refused to believe it.

He had made his bed, now he had to lay in it.

When you remained quiet, Jin began packing his stuff quietly realizing his outburst. You can only assume he remembered the same thing.

Sighing heavily he tries to dispel the anger, his eyes flashing back to normal. “We’ll discuss things later.”

You hate that it makes your heart sink. You don’t like that he’s pushing you away. He had done it before, but he wasn’t going to do it again. “Of course I don’t, so explain it to me now.”

He ignores you and makes towards the door. Before he makes it you grab onto his forearm. “Will you listen. Don’t walk away from me.”

His body stiffens instantly, although his chest was still heaving. When he turns to look at you, you let go of him like you had been burned. You crossing your arms over your chest protectively. Knowing he no longer plans to leave you follow up, “Look, I don’t know as much as I thought. Don’t punish me for it. I just want to solve this case as you do.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I just…imagining someone claiming—.“

Your chest deflated too with his reaction it gave you an unspoken conclusion. He had a mate. You should’ve known better than to let your thoughts trail on earlier. Instead you focused on his apology. “We need to work together right? This is our last case here and we can get through this professionally.”

“Can we?”

You smirked, “I can behave if you can.” You straightened up, extending out your hand to him, “Let’s call a truce or something.”

He accepted it, but still held onto it which was something you didn’t expect. “Something?”

“I mean do you have a better status to call whatever this is?”

“Truce implies I hate you. I don’t hate you.”

The way Seokjin looked at you felt like he was truly looking at you. You almost felt paralyzed as you couldn’t look away. His words felt—genuine. But you refused to lean into that, you didn’t want to read into his words too much. You rolled your eyes, unconvinced pulling your hand out of his. “Okay, alright, I said behave”

“Really. I don’t.” Weakly he smiled.

“So truce or not?”

“Okay.” He answered.

“Okay.” You repeat back.

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

“Give me your phone.”

You pulled out your phone and handed it to him. He saved his phone number, calling himself, before handing it back. “Don’t abuse it now.”

You scoffed, nearly choking on your own saliva. Unable to stop yourself from laughing in disbelief. “You wish.”

He genuinely laughed, the high pitch sound unique and squeaky. Turning to leave, he paused in the doorway looking over his shoulder. “Another thing.”

You hummed, looking at him expectantly. You saw the cheeky smirk before it bloomed. “Keep the messaging to during the daylight hours, alright.”

“Seokjin!”

He closed the door quickly behind him, evading your spitfire.

He isn’t sinking back into your life. You aren’t even friends. You both were going to go your separate ways after the internship, and you were never likely to run into him again.

You had nothing to lose.

Truce.

Shutting the door behind you a bit harder than necessary, you toe off your heels and hook your keys up.

Your roommate, Mia, was already sprawled out on the couch. Slumping right next to her and crowding her out. The sounds you emit sounded like a deflating air mattress as you groan.

“Yikes, that bad of a day?” Shuffling to adjust herself again on the couch.

Closing your eyes you nodded. She laughed, clearly not buying the way you played victim. “What did he do today?”

Mia had been a friend you made during college, and quickly became your closets friends. When you both graduated you found yourself needing someone to roommate with while job searching and grad school stuff. You had found out about her being a Kind early on in your sharing of home. She was more surprised to find out that you had already known about it. That’s when you told her about your childhood, leaving out names, all until recently where she was too smart and connected the dots. Wolves and their intuition.

“Okay, first off, not everything isn’t about him. And secondly, how dare you be right about it.”

She laughed, her laptop nearly falling off her lap. You loath her, her and her perceptiveness. She was smart, but sometimes too smart for your own good. “It just—he’s so irritating! I just said one wrong thing today and he exploded. Then we had a truce and get this, he said he didn’t hate me.” Confessing all on your own, you felt accosted just by her silence.

Her eyebrow quirked at that, followed by a cheshire grin. “You two getting along now then? Is that’s what’s upsetting you?”

“No. It’s just—he played the good guy and it made me feel stupid. I have been doing my best and then he comes along and makes me feel—ughh! It’s just this case is stressful. I feel way out of my depths.”” You have your hands in the air scratching at the air.

“Leave then.” She shrugged, stating the obvious solution. She already had let this type of complaining go in one ear and out the other. Since the beginning of your internship you had come home and vented about your day, mostly revolving around him as the topic of choice. How he irritated you that day, or simply breathed the wrong way. Even to yourself, the amount of time he has been able to rile you up lately has become annoying.

“I can’t just leave, you know how hard I worked for this. You know how important this place is. Besides, I need it to graduate.”

“Well then, why were you arguing anyways? What does this have to do with your case?”

“Everything to do with it.”

She nodded. Realizing it must not be within your realm she opens up, “Need insight?”

You shifted on the couch tucking your legs underneath you. “What’s marking or ‘laying claim’?”

She turned to you, “Are you serious?” For the first time in your friendship you saw her blush. She was always forthcoming with sexuality and whatnot, so this was out of character for her.

“Yes.”

“Did he ask you about it?”

You squinted at her, “No, why?”

She cleared her throat, waving her hand, “No, nothing.”

“Well its not PG-13.” She licked her lips.

“Well thank goodness I’m not a virgin maiden in waiting. What is it? You’re stalling.” Her reaction made you infinitely more curious.

“Okay, well honey, when two mates, who love eachother very much—.”

“Oh god, stop it, please be serious for once!”

She laughed. “Fine. It’s a sacred ritual that connects two mates together. Or in layman terms, two soulmates together via a bite mark. It acts like rings? But its more than that. Its hard to explain.”

“Soulmates?” You suffocated the scoff. Out of all things she said to be appalled at. “That doesn’t exist.”

She smiled at you. “They do! You humans just don’t believe it because you’ve corrupted the system.”

“So it can’t it just be anyone? You know, fall in love and just know that person is it, the one?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s this instinctual feeling. This soul connection. You’ll know it when you feel it kind of thing.”

“Ugh, that’s what she said too.” You rubbed at your temples. “I can’t use a feeling as evidence.”

You sighed, “I can’t tell you about the case, but hypothetically if this happened. Hypotheticals only.”

She suffocated a laugh, rolling her wrist in a circle, hand gesturing for you to continue.

“So hypothetically, the client was hypothetically marked by someone other than her mate. What does that mean—hypothetically?”

Her face sobered, “Are you serious?”

You nodded.

Fiddling with her fingernails, she looked genuinely troubled. “How can that even happen?” She mumbled to herself before she turned to you. “I don’t know of any worse punishment. The pain that comes with that either is unimaginable. It’s violation of not only culture, but its inhumane. The human equivalency of forced marriage, but even then that equivalency doesn’t compare how bad it is. Murder, maybe?”

“What would happen to the one who bit the other…hypothetically?”

“Normally, death. There would be a match between the actual mate and the one who bit until death, but times have changed. The punishment is still severe.”

You take pause realizing how serious it all was. You weren’t sold to the idea of love, or soulmates, but being forced in a marriage the idea made you sick. You finally could see why Seokjin was so upset earlier. Sighing heavily you let your head fall back on the couch onto the cushion stared at the ceiling. How could you find evidence against this guy then?

“We gotta make him pay.” Looking towards her. “Do you think a guy who has a separate family would leave a paper trail?”

“You just need to find his social accounts. Cheaters usually have multiple accounts under different pseudonyms. Their downfall though is that most guys are stupid enough to not undo the geo tag or take the photos all in the same place.”

“I’ve already looked into it. He only has one account. It’s pretty generic, nothing telling.”

“But have you?” She gave you this side eye. “He must have a fake account then. Probably all his closets friends follow it, so we just have to find a similar name that seems to be a generic account.” The whole time she had been speaking to you she had been doing the research.

“Done.”

Your jaw dropped. She did that so fast. Could you blame her though, as an IT specialist she knew the ins and outs of things like this.

“You evil genius!” She pulled it back to herself, you scooching to sit next to her so you can watch what she does. Scrolling through, she squinted. “Seems he recently was on this page.” She clicked on link bringing up a page to a club named Fluxx. Scrolling through you both catch a comment under an event from West. The DJ who was playing there apparently was his favorite, him and his boys were going to be there to see it that weekend.  

She turned her laptop towards you. “You’d think he’s in college still.”

“What if…what if I go. I’m sure he isn’t going to just party with his friends. I’m sure he’s going to be there looking for his next victim.”

She shut her laptop, scowling at you. “No. Absolutely not.”

You pout, “Why not? You realize this give me the evidence I need to proof the case.”

“You don’t understand. It’s a club for others. Humans can’t get in here unless you’re someone’s play thing or—.”

“Or what?”

“With someone who is.”

You stare at her expectantly.

“No.”

“Come on!” You whine, tugging at her sleeve.

“No, this is dangerous!” She set her laptop on the coffee table, moving away from you so you couldn’t provoke her. Getting up form the couch she headed towards the kitchen. You sigh following after her. She reached into a cabinet for a mug.

“Don’t treat me like a child.”

She slammed down her mug, and you jumped. You had never seen her upset. She turned to you with a look of disbelief. “Child? This isn’t a game, y/n. You apparently don’t what kind of shit you’re getting into. My kind have to live in the shadows, and do you know what happens in the shadow.” Her comment was rhetoric.

You kept your mouth shut.

“Humans are no longer the superior race in there. Not all kinds are what you think. You’d get eaten alive the moment you let your guard down.”

“I didn’t go through all this trouble to find a good lead to get scared away by the what ifs. Besides, you’ll be there with me, right?”

“They’re not what ifs, y/n.”

“Yes, they are. You went there before and are standing here today.”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“I’m not. I understand okay! I know you don’t think I do, but I do. I’ve heard it before and I don’t need to hear it from you!”

She turned to look at you with a pointed glare. You stood your ground.

She huffed preparing herself a drink. You stared at her back. For a moment you held doubt. What if she was right. What if you were getting yourself in something bigger than you anticipated. Picturing back to earlier in the day to Gloria and the amount of fear she had regarding her husband had your stomach sinking. The look that Seokjin had, the anger in him, and now hearing of the significance. The sense of justice found itself rooting in you even thicker.

“Alright.”

Pushing off the counter you were leaning on, Mia dropped the spoon she was using to swirl her drink in the sink noisily.

“You’re planning on going anyways aren’t you.”

Painting her with a look of exhaustion and resolve. “I am.”

“How?” she tossed her hands up in the air.

“I don’t know, I always figure things out somehow.”

She picked up her mug pushing past you then picking up her laptop going into her room. She slammed the door.

You slumped back onto the couch. Biting on your thumb. How were you supposed to get in now?

She came storming out of her room thirty minutes later. Rubbing her temples with a look of distress.

“Can’t you just hire a PI or something?”

“No, you yourself said being a kind is a secret. I can’t hire someone to watch him.”

She bit her lip, “Do you have to be this stubborn?”

You chuckled. “Yes. A woman’s life is going to be decided if or not I can prove her husband is a dick. Even if that means putting myself out there to prove it. I really want justice for her.”

“God, I really hate you sometimes.”

You smirked sitting up. “Does that mean you’ll get me in.”

“I swear to God if you get hurt—.”

“We won’t, I won’t.” You rushed towards her wrapping her in a hug. “Thank you, this means a lot. You know I wouldn’t ask something form you if I didn’t mean it right.”

She sighed. “Yes.”

“You owe me big time!”

“Whatever you want darling, the world is ours!”

Finding yourself back at the office after finishing all your classes in the morning. You were exhausted. The week, on top of the internship, had been exam heavy. You found it difficult to raise your head from your desk. Luckily for you, the office was nearly empty including of the other three. All others were at their campus or otherwise. You purposefully came on this day to get your work done.

Your phone pinged, notifying you got a text. With your hand you blindly searched for your phone dragging it so you could look at it form your lap with your head still on the table.

You sat up when you noticed who had texted you. You blink at the ID a few times.

Partner in Crime [2:07 p.m.]: We should meet up to work on the case.

You knew enough to deduce it was Seokjin.

You [2:09p.m.]: Who’s this?

Partner in Crime [2:10p.m.]: Are you serious?

You [2:10p.m.]: I’m at the office now.

Pain in the ass [2: 12pm]: Can you meet me at my school’s library in thirty? The office is nearby. I’ll buy you a coffee.

Location sent.

You contemplate. You just wanted to go home. Deal with the case more after this weekend after going to the club. You want to present all your finding and seal the deal all in one session. However, the thought of coffee was convincing enough to have you texting back.

You [2:20pm]: Okay. Be there soon.

Pain in the ass [2:21pm]: I’ll meet you outside.

You found yourself standing outside of the library half an hour later, staring up at the towering building. This was their library? This looked more like a historical site. Well it explained why the tuition here was so expensive. He went to the ivy school, one of the best, if not the best, law programs in the nation. You eyed things with envy. You had applied for this school too, it was a dream of course. But you suppose going to state university granted you only so much prestige.  

“The clouds telling you something?” You jump when Jin comes up next to you.

You glare at him. He’s laughed. “Sorry, you looked so lost in your thoughts. Didn’t actually think I’d scare you. Here.” He handed you the other coffee in his hand.

You accepted it gladly, fingers feeling frozen, but pause. “You didn’t poison this right?”

“No, that’d be too easy.”

You nearly snort into your cup. “Spoken like a true soon to be lawyer.”

You miss the endearing stare he gives you as you begin walking up the stairs. He quickly catches up with you putting a hand on the small of your back when a large group of students come your way. He guides you up the stairs keeping you close with the abundant of students pouring in and out. You suppressed the squeak you wanted to let out. His hand was large and warm, the touch radiating through your coat. Your mind tells you you should move away, but you don’t. He leads you to the lower floor where to your surprise was just as magnificent as the base floor. The gothic architecture feels almost as if you’re entering a cathedral. The tables were dark oak wood and heavy looking ordered in long rows of five. Green banker lamps were in the center of each table basking the old scratched up wood in golden light.

Leading you to a table secondarily inward, he took a seat next to you.

Finding it odd, you debate on moving, but you neglect to comment on it. He settled into the seat looking none the more comfortable. Settling in you pulled out your laptop plugging it into an outlet underneath the table. You needed a second to re-center yourself. You didn’t like that you instead of revulsion like you expected to, you felt his presence give you a sense of security. It’s all dangerous, the feeling all too close to the ease you used to have with him.

“Have you come across any new leads?” Jin asked.

You quirked you head, having been so lost in your thoughts. “Huh?”

“New leads?”

“Oh, yeah.” You bring it up a on your laptop and show him. “I found his secret Bookface account. It’s even under a different name, Ethan Miller. He must have many identities and more accounts than this one.”

He brought his arm up resting it on the back of your chair, bringing the both of you closer. You flush thinking nothing of it as his thick thigh brushes yours as he leaned in.

“How’d you find it?” He clicks through the photo album. Pictures of ‘Daniel’ and children appear that look very much like him. Children who were not his with Gloria.

“I know people.”

He looked mildly impressed. “I see, if you tell you’ll have to kill me kind of scenario.”

Shrugging with a bit of pride you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned on the desk. Lamely you shot a single finger gun at him. Realizing how lame it was you quickly tucked your finger back into your fist and crossing your arms. When did you do lame things like that ever?  He laughed, and you tried to ignore the embarrassment.

“Anything else?” He was so close to you when he looked up. You couldn’t help but let your eyes flicker down to his lip for a second as he mouthed the words. You quickly brought them back up to his eyes, the dark chocolate color another vortex. Heat rises to your cheeks and he could probably hear your heart picking up in pace. It didn’t help that from how close he was you could smell the cologne he wore, which made you want to lean in and press your face to smell it from his skin. Heat flushes even hotter through you, how brazen of your thoughts were getting.

Remembering he asked you something you answer more breathier than you would like. “No.”

When he straightens up, you were glad he didn’t comment on it. You contemplated telling Jin where you were going, but you keep your mouth shut. You could handle it on your own, all you needed to do was bring the evidence.

You cross your legs attempting to move away from him.

He nodded, taking screenshots before moving on. He finds the photos of his other family just like you did, and the other woman too. He carefully zoomed in squinting at the image of the woman.

“She’s wearing a scarf and in a majority of them.”

“Didn’t take you to be in the fashion police.” That has him snorting a laugh before he goes back to the page. He looked around, finding no one in any of the other rows, you both completely had the basement floor to yourselves. “He must’ve marked her, or newly marked her when they took these photos. She’s trying to cover up the bruising.”

“Is that so abnormal?”

“Well, not necessarily. We just heal rapidly, cuts heal within hours. Marks do take a bit to heal, but it usually heals within a day if cared for properly. But just the way she hiding it and the bruising, It means she’s human. Kinds know marks aren’t meant to be covered up. They’re something sacred and to be worn proudly.”

“So…?”

With his head propped onto his hand he turned to you, eyes boring into you. That feeling arises in your stomach again. The way he was looking at you felt deeper than just a simple glance. You think back to when he said he didn’t hate you. The words still feel impossible.

“Human mates are rare.” Without letting you question it he says, “Bruising could mean it never healed because her body is rejecting him.”  

“Wouldn’t he be feeling some repercussions too? It’s a two-way thing right?”

“Yes, but it seems that he’s not being affected. Gloria would have mentioned illness or signs of hyper aggression.” He scrolls over the images. “You’d expect this kind of behavior from—.” Again he pauses, lost in though.

“From what?”

“A rogue.”

You squint. “English, please.”

He smiles at you. “An exiled wolf. When we don’t have a pack for too long our sense of direction becomes distorted. Signs are aggression, loss of humanity and morality, eventually they lose their its ability to revert.”

“And you think he’s one?”

He leaned back in his seat. “It’s plausible.”

“Let’s go through his account and gather more evidence. I can began transcribing the interview. We can do case search too if we have time.”

He nodded his head. You send him the link to West’s account and begin sectioning out the work. Surprisingly, you had worked quietly next together, no bickering. It was—pleasant.

“How’s school going?” His husky voice breaks you out of your concentration. He was still looking at the laptop and writing down notes.

You hummed. “Getting by, you?”

“Same.” He hums back and the lull begins again. You bite at your lip, curiosity getting the better of you. “Why did you decide to go to law school? Weren’t you going to become a chef?”

He had always told you when he was younger, he wanted to become a chef. “Duty called.”

“Let me guess, pack stuff?”

He nods, not missing the way you said it. “I’m expected to become a council member when I graduate. I’m going to take my father’s position and practice in the kind’s court.”

You didn’t know much about his family, things were always surface when you were younger. Playtime and other things taking precedence. You had no idea his father was a lawyer. You had only spoken to his parents a handful of times. His mother was the one who spoke to you mostly, his father was a stoic man.

“But, your dream?”

“I still cook, I just don’t do it professionally.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No, I’m happy.”

You thoughtful consider his words. It pains you a little to know he gave up his dream.

“How are they, your pack?”

A fatherlike smile comes on his face. “They’re all well, Namjoon is to be the next pack leader. The others are all doing their own thing, but they’re doing great.”

You smile, the fond memories of the boys resurfacing. “I miss them.”

“Why’d you leave then?”

There it is. The conversation the both of you had been avoiding this whole time. You had asked him something so personal and now he was returning it. The implication of the question wasn’t only why you left town, but him. You knew that, both physically and emotionally. You don’t know if you could offer him that though.

Abruptly your smile leaves you. “My dad got a job here in the city. I had no choice.” Your tone was frigid despite how much you wanted it to sound neutral.

“That’s the only reason?” He didn’t buy it. Based on his tone he sounded hurt. Knowing there was another reason. You hated that he could still read you.

You shrug, maintaining your stance. “Yes.”

“Bullshit.” His voice comes out clipped and sharp.

“What other reason would I have Seokjin?” Willing your voice to stay leveled, you begin using a voice you only use in professional settings.

“You left me.” He spoke the pain that he had held within. When you look over to him his eyes are red.

Leaning back in your chair, you crossed your arms over your chest. You wanted to remain unaffected, but you wanted to reach out to him. You felt the urge to touch him, but your anger kept you steady. “I didn’t leave you, you weren’t there. How can you say I left when you weren’t there.”

“You know that’s not true.” He accused, gaze darkening.

“It’s true.”

“I tried, but you wouldn’t answer.”

“That’s bullshit Jin and you know it. For months you ignored me.” Using his words back at him you choked on your words towards the end. You want to say, ‘you didn’t need me’, but the word hung heavy on your tongue, too hurtful even to yourself. You know that you didn’t try to reach out because after what those supposed friends said, it was made true when he just suddenly left. The prioritizing of his pack over you. All your feelings for him were crushed. Heartbreak was easier to deal with when you didn’t have to see their face.

He growls out, “I had things in the pack to handle.”

“Good excuse.” You knew he avoided you for other reasons, it was beginning to urk you that he wasn’t voicing it.

“I couldn’t help it. I was being initiated and had my first complete shift. It was a lot.”

“It’s different and you know it. I—forget it.” You wanted to say so much more, confess how you used to love him. Those feelings feel trivial now, even if they still exist in the present. The realization of the words, even though spoken in your mind had you reliving the pain all over again.

He falters and you almost feel guilty. A darkness spreads over the atmosphere. You spend a moment staring at one another. There is a tension between you two. Yet you can’t deny it’s like magnets. You feel drawn to him despite it all. Always have been. The knowledge of that has you shattering inside.

You stand up. “I’m going to look for a case study.” The wooden chair screeches against the floor. You needed to get away, to cool down. The sound of your shoes echo with the emptiness of the library.

Slinking between the bookcases you keep walking until you are deep within, feeling far enough where you can breathe again. Leaning against a bookshelf you sigh heavily. How come he had this much effect over you still?

Suddenly you feel heat overcome you as Jin suddenly towers over you. Softly his chest rumbles in hushed growls as he caging you in.

“Seokjin, leave me alone.”

When he doesn’t move you attempt to escape, placing your hands on his firm chest and pushing him. Unsurprisingly he doesn’t budge, but he shifts to keep you within his outstretched arms on the bookshelf. His gaze is intense, the red seeming to glow. “No, why do you run away when the conversation gets difficult?”

Humiliation clouds you. “Don’t patronize me.”

“Seokjin I’ve never run, it was you. I stopped chasing when I realized you had other priorities then and I wasn’t one of them. You said so yourself. Simple as that.”

You see him register the memory. His expression turns bitter. “That’s not true.” Gaze narrowed, his hands turn white as he clutches the shelf behind you. “I didn’t ignore you on purpose. Things were complicated and there was a lot I didn’t understand yet.”

“Good excuse.”

“It isn’t!”

“So what?”

“I realized something that—.”

“You didn’t need me.” The words come out of your mouth quietly finishing the sentence for him.  

“No!” he growled.

“Keep telling yourself that.” You bit back the feeling of tears. “What do you gain Seokjin from this, huh? Reliving the past? It’s not then anymore. The us, whatever it was, is not now. And nothing will change that.”

The bookshelf creaked under his grip. “Don’t. Don’t say things like that.”

“What? That I’m no longer that young naïve girl? The one that used to follow you around? The one that used to think you were—.” The word mine dies on your tongue. “I don’t need you anymore and haven’t for a while, face it.”

“Please don’t cry.” He looked at you sadly.

You hadn’t realized you were crying. Attempting to wipe your tears, Jin hand took yours holding it while he caressed your face with the other wiping it away for you.

“Please don’t. I can’t handle it.”

He lowers his head and kissed you. The first press of his lips was gentle but deep. A small whimper escapes you; he rumbles in response pressing you closer to the bookcase. His hand dictates yours onto his shoulders while it wrapped around your waist pulling you close to him. It was making you dizzy with how good it felt.

He pulled away warm breathes of quiet between you two. You slowly open your eyes meeting his fiery ones. The warmness and adoration of it catching you off guard. The boyish loopy smile that followed had your heart melting. He lowered his head, resting his forehead against yours. His lips press against yours again unyielding. You had imagined this before, but this felt better. He kisses your jaw down to your neck. You shiver. The implication of it is not lost on you. He trailed back up finding your lips again in a harsh mesh. With a sigh he pried your mouth open. He moans your name.

Bringing you back to reality. “I—We can’t.”

This wasn’t right on many levels, but most importantly, didn’t he have a mate? Why was he kissing you? You had messed up, messed up big time. How had you caved so easily when he kissed you. You hate that you liked it so much too. You realize from the moment you both met again that the feeling you worked so hard to suppress came back strong. This was a mistake from the beginning. He still makes your heartbeat like it used to.

Seokjin’s arms were still extended towards you. “Why not?”

“I can’t—we can’t.”

You do what you do best. You run. Your heart breaks again for the second time.

Standing outside in line in the dead of fall would have to be the last place you wished to find yourself. The bombing bass thumped through the walls and neon lights outlined the vicinity. Other patrons in line to the club seemed at ease with the near freezing temperature. You suppose its a caveat of being human that your body didn’t run naturally warm. You had been to clubs throughout your college days, but they were far in between. Except this wasn’t any regular club, Fluxx was meant for the underworld. Those of the other kind.

Crossing your arms over your chest you attempt to conserve as much heat as possible. The fire within only kindled by the fact that you are only doing this for the case. The dress you had borrowed form Mia after she had deemed your choice to tame barely covered anything. It was too tight and you were sure that everything underneath was outlined.

Your phone vibrates in your clutch. You step away from Mia, although she was distracted chatting up some guy in the line. You answer it without looking at the ID.

“Hello?” Plugging your other ear with your finger.

“There’s something you need to know.” Jin’s voice comes through. You startle looking at the phone to check if it really was him. After what happened yesterday you hadn’t expected to never speak to him so soon.

Putting it back to your ear. “Can it wait?” You hiss.

“No.”

“What is it?”

“I talked to Yoongi about him being a rogue. It all checks out. I don’t know how much longer before he turns.”

You bite your lip, heart pausing in your chest. You stare at the club for a moment contemplating what you are about to do. You knew what you were doing was dangerous, entering territory still uncharted to you. However, this was the best way to get more proof.

“Y/n? Y/n did you hear me?”

His voice comes back into your ear, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Are you out right now?”

Form the corner of your eye you notice a bouncer going down the line, eyeing those standing in line. Mia grabs your elbow pulling you back to her. You hadn’t told her what happened yesterday. Unable to articulate it either. She mouthed to you, “Everything alright?”

“Where are you?” Jin asked.

You nodded to her.

“I gotta go.”

“Y/n, wait—.” You hung up on him tucking your phone back in your purse.

The bouncer scanned you over before looking to Mia. The smile that bloomed on his face was a bit salacious. “Go on in ladies.” Mia grabbed your arm pulling you to bypass the line. Going through the entrance, the dark narrow hallway, you focus on your footing as it was hard to see. The deep house thumping grew louder until it opened to a large room. Strobing lights were made opaque by the hazy air, thick with the smell of alcohol and sweat. Bodies were moving to the music as Mia pulled you towards the bar. You were nearly knocked twice by people too drunk to notice or have body awareness.

Mia had already given you the rundown of what to expect. She had spent at least two hours lecturing you on what goes on. These clubs were not just host to one kind, but all. The fact that you were human would send off a few sense and mixing alcohol in the situation it makes things a bit more dangerous. It had already been decided early on that you both would split up.

Mia leaned in at the bar catching the bartender’s attention and ordered for the both of you. Without turning back.

“Spot him yet?”

Scanning the crowd, you look over the bodies, none of them striking familiarity. It isn’t until you scan the private section where the tables are do you find him.

Mia receives the drinks, handing you the soda. Stealthily she looked over spotting the area of where you were looking.

“I’m not getting good vibes Y/n.”

You nearly snorted into your drink. “It’s a club of course you don’t. This place is grimy and full of fuck boy energy.”

Her lips lift in a smile, but it doesn’t stay. “I’m serious.” Biting her lower lip in uncertainty, leaning in she spoke into your ear, “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah.” An important detail you left out was telling her that he was a rogue. You knew that just like Jin she would talk you out of it. To her he was just a douchebag and you were just an ordinary girl hitting on him.

“I’ll come find you. Don’t do anything stupid okay.”

You nodded. She disappeared into the crowd weaving into the swaying bodies dancing seamlessly, leaving you at the bar.

You spotted him leaning into a woman, holding her by the hips and grinding to the beat. She wasn’t any woman you had found on his social media before. You snuck photos pretending to take selfies then going through a few other apps. Seeing him move away from her at the change of the song you took your cue. Moving through the dance floor you approximated yourself. Your heart was beating in your fingertips, fist tightly clutching at your drink. Steps beside him you went into action. Stumbling slightly in front of him, you spilled your drink on his black slacks. He growled as soon as the cold liquid spilled all over him.

Trying to swipe off the drink, “What the fuck!”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You played up to the image of innocence and a naïve human.

He paused in his attempt at brushing off the liquid. “A human. What are you doing here sweetheart?” When his eyes meet yours, they don’t just look they linger. The girl he had been speaking to completely forgotten. His eyes flicker down from your face to your body, lingering in erogenous zones before meeting your eyes again. Pretending you didn’t notice, you suppress the urge to smile knowing he’s playing into it.

Now that you were closer you couldn’t deny that the guy was attractive. It made sense how he was able to play so many. His tousled hair was dark and silky. His eyes were piercing and intimidating.

Seokjin’s words ringing in your ear again. Don’t know how much longer we have until he turns. Why did you have to think of him now at all times.

Touching his leg over the stain you squeezed it suggestively still pretending innocence of attempting to clean it. “I’m so sorry. I’m such a clutz.”

“Hold on princess. Take me to dinner first.” He grabbed your hand, but kept it over his legs.

You couldn’t explain it, you felt his touch turning nausea within you.

“Can I pay you to get it cleaned?”

“This thing? I got twenty more, its fine.”

You leaned in, putting your hand on his chest. “Is there another way I can repay you?”

That had him quirking his brows before a twisted grin bloomed on his face. “Got any ideas babygirl?”

You leaned in, playing with a button on his button up. “I can think of a few wolf boy.”

He growled clearly taking on the challenge. “My names Daniel and don’t forget it baby girl.”

He leaned in to capture your lips but you turned to the side. You whispered into his ears, chuckling, “Don’t tease me baby. you’re going to bring the beast out in me.”

Pretending his words were stimulating, you giggled, tossing your head back. Biting your lip you gave him a doe eyed look, “Let’s take this somewhere else.” Blinking up at him, “Please.”

He took your hand leading you through the crowd. You didn’t have time to search for Mia in the crowd, but you had hoped she saw you. He moved towards the back towards an exit door. He pushed open the door you were pulled out into the back alley. As soon as the door closes the noise of the club softened, and Daniel’s labored breathing is the loudest sound. Fog had settled in over the city, and you could see a group of guys lingering just at the entrance, the ember of their cigarette light.

Stepping closer to you he caged you against the damp brick wall. His overwhelming smell of alcohol was suffocating as he leaned in with a smirk on his lips. He leaned in close enough that his breath fanned over the side of your face. Moaning and humming, “You smell like a bitch, hard to believe your just human baby girl.”

“I’ve always had a bit of wild in me.” You smirked.

Throwing his head back as he laughed, then lowering his head following with a groan. He bit the bait. He presses himself closer to you, enjoying the soft curves of yore body against his. Leaning in to speak with hot breath into your ear, “I can tame you. You’d like it if I’d put you in your place right.”

Goosebumps pimpled over your whole being, except it wasn’t because of him. Something changed in the air. Your heart began beating faster in your chest, like a radar beeping when a target was nearing. Breaking eye contact with Daniel you turned towards the alley where your instincts were indicating something was coming. In turn you exposed your neck to him. Daniel rumbled contently in appreciation at your action. He leaned in sniffing your skin, trailing his nose along the column. The action having your stomach twist in a sudden nausea.

The radar in your chest pinged its loudest as through the dense, grey fog you saw red eyes. A shadowed figured, large and imposing, began taking form of the owner of the red eyes. They were heading towards you at a face pace like when a predator locked in on its prey. A harrowing growl comes from the shadow sends a shiver down your spine. Daniel was so lost in your scent he didn’t realize the figure coming at breakneck speed.

When the figure was close enough you finally caught a glimpse of the shadow.

In a whisper, “Jin.”

Fire burned in his eyes, as he struck like a missile. It all happened in a blur of motion; Daniel was ripped from hovering over you. The vicious growls that came from both beings was terrifying. Jin’s anger had always been cold and blunt. You had only seen it once before, but even then, that time feels minute to what happened in front of you. You had never seen him fight before. Fist struck and the sound of bone cracking was like thunder. It was gruesome.

Daniel lost his balance, his eyes turning red as well. Their heavy breathing steamed around their mouth, their fangs elongated to their lower lip. Daniel twitched seemingly resisting shifting fully. However, Jin was the larger of the two, his body partially shifted. His muscles bulged against the fabric of his clothes. The buttons of his dress shirt barely maintained against this broad chest. His sleeves were rolled up, veins pulsing against his muscular forearms. He was out for blood.

“What the fuck man! Get your own bitch!” Daniel growled at Jin, still maintaining his goal of getting you. When Daniel’s eyes shifted over to you, Jin charged him as the scent of lust filled the air. He grabbed at Daniel’s throat, moving backwards until he slammed him to the wall. He held him growling out words you couldn’t make out until he felt Daniel fall unconscious. His heart was still beating. Released him and let him slump to the floor, hovering over him like a predator.

“Jin.” The quiet whisper of his nickname has him coming back down to earth. He whipped around finding you leaning against the wall, knees weak. Your eyes were wide taking in his face. His eyes the deepest red you’ve ever seen, fangs over his lips, and body near feral. However, as soon as he sees that you, it dropped from him and he looking more like a puppy. He hurried over to you. Instead of greeting he grabbed your chin and angled your head to the side to get a glance at your neck. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was still more wolf than man at the moment. He leaned forward and whined. Your heart stopped in your chest. His body was warm sending a shiver down your spine. His scent was comforting. You hate how good it feels, you hate that your body relaxed instantly when he came to save you. As if you already know everything was going to be alright. To trust and rely on him felt so foreign, but so familiar.

He pulled away but you were so close you could make out his eyelashes individually. He growled, “What were you doing!”

Suddenly what you had been trying to forget comes back full force. Why was he acting like he cared so much? You curled in on yourself, the pettiness returning. “I could’ve handled myself.”

“Oh really? You were just going to let him mark you?” He seethed with an anger like wildfire.

You tried to remain indifferent. “I don’t see what the problem is. It’s just a bite, it’ll heal. I’m not one of you.”

Ignoring him, you pulled your phone out from your pocket showing him that you had a recording going. “I got it.” You pressed pause and saved the file. You hadn’t realized your hands were shaking, the adrenaline of it all still coursing through you.

His brows furrowed. “What?”

“I recorded everything. I even took pictures of him with other women. We can use this as evidence.”

“Y/n?” The moment shatters and you search for the familiar sound of your name.

You see your friend stumbling drunkenly through the door out into the empty alleyway.

“I’m here to save you!” For being a kind, her alcohol tolerance was low. She turned towards you, squinting her eyes. “Whoa, who’s the hot guy? Was I interrupting something.”

You pushed Jin away from you slipping past him to support her as her ankle kept rolling due to the uneven asphalt.

Jin didn’t bother smirking or returning the understanding. He was still beyond pissed.

She looked down to the passed out man, “Holy shit.” She looked to Seokjin, seeing the remnants of his partial shift as he hadn’t bothered to transition back. There was a silent understanding of one another between them as he could tell she was the same as him.

“You were supposed to keep watch, how could you get drunk?”

“I didn’t mean to, I was feeling really nervous about all this. I needed to calm my nerves, so I had a few drinks.”

“We’ll talk in the office.” You directed your words to Seokjin before you began walking away with Mia.

“No, I’m taking you home.”

Mia wiggled her eyebrows. “Can you stay forever?”

You shushed her, bewildered by her behavior. The intense glare he was giving you had you agreeing. “Fine.”

Walking towards his car in silence. She squinted, then her eyes then widened thinking she was whispering to you, “Oh my god is he the one you’ve been talking nonstop about.”

You hush her. “Shut up.”

Through the walk Jin had shifted himself back. A black Audi RS7 beeped as Jin unlocked his car. Mia whistled, “He’s rich.”

“Mia!” You whisper yelled at her. “Please, behave!”

She nodded holding her hands up in an apology. “I’ll behave. I’ll behave.”

You slip into the back with Mia. Her head falls on your shoulder. You gave him your address. He presses the car to start and pulls away. Not long your friend falls asleep, her head falling asleep on your shoulder. You caught him looking at you a few times through the rear-view mirror, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything.

Pulling in the parking lot of your complex, Jin got out first then opened the door for you. He helped you with Mia and supported her up.

Going to the first floor of your apartment complex you made sure Jin was following you with Mia. Shoving the key in your door you let him in, leading him through your apartment to her room. He laid her down onto her bed. You began helping take her shoes off, Jin leaving to go to the living room. Taking a moment to help her clean up and ready for bed. She smiled at you partially awake, partially asleep.

“What?” You smiled back.

Giggling, “He likes you too.”

You froze, staring at her incredulously before you played it off as she was too drunk to know what she was talking about. “You’re drunk go to sleep.”

She shook her head. She grabbed your hand staring you directly in the eyes. “No, I’m sure.”  

“He already has a mate.”

Her eyebrows squinted. “No he doesn’t. He doesn’t smell like it.”

You refrained form rolling your eyes. “You wolves and your weird olfactory fixation.”

She sighed then let go, allowing her eyes to close as she fell asleep. You remained crouched by her bed, trying to decipher her words. Jin, didn’t have a mate? And liked you? She must mean that he tolerated you, civil at most. The kiss the other day meant nothing, you were sure of it. It was spur of the moment, high stress and you both didn’t know what you were doing.

She was drunk what did she know.

Standing up with a click to your knees you groaned, you were exhausted. The adrenaline finally wearing away of what happened earlier. Seeing Jin standing in your living room was awkward. He was looking at the photos on the wall. Specifically staring at a photo of when you were younger and Jin was also in it. You both looked so happy, with paint on both of your faces and white shirts.

You hesitate, weirdly feeling as if you were caught with something you should be. “Kinda hard not finding a picture of the old days without you in it.”

He looked at you, putting his hand down from touching the edge of the frame.

When he says nothing you clear your throat, “Thank you.”

He turned towards you, sticking his hands in his pockets, humming in acknowledgement.

“I’ll format all the recordings and photos for the—.”

He cut you off. “You looked happy here.” He pointed to the photo next to the one he was touching. It was of you and a few friends at the beach. It was taken the last year of college.

You smirked. “Hey, I know how to have fun. I’m not all business.”

He smirked, “Would’ve fooled me.” You knew he was poking fun. This time you enjoyed it. Turning to you. “You even turned our night off into a work night, at a club no less.”

You couldn’t argue there, in steading biting your bottom of your lip. He follow the motion before looking up. Clearing your throat you changed the subject.  “He said that I was his mate.”

His whole body stiffened. “Impossible.” He crossed the room closer to you, just stopping a foot away.

You looked up at him, the sudden hostility throwing you off. He scanned you over once more. “Are you sure you’re alright? He didn’t touch you?”

“No.” You fought off the blush that threatened to rise to your cheeks. The attentiveness he was giving you was doing things to your heart that you promised yourself you wouldn’t let happen again. You flush suddenly remembering how soft his lips feel.

Nodding seemingly distracted with his thoughts. “I’ll look into that.” He began making his way towards the door and you followed. He stood outside your doorway.

He hesitated before nodding, as if he had contemplated something. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” You returned the words in a soft whisper.

He began walking away towards his car.

“Jin.”

He turned around.

“How’d you know where to find me?”

He paused, his face clearly. Your heart nearly stopped in your chest when a smile, an expression you haven’t seen on him. Jin looked like his old self.  “I just went where the wild things are. I knew I’d find you there.”

You laughed, “I hate you.”

A smirk came back to his lips. “Don’t go soft on me now, Y/n.”

You watched him slip into his car before going inside. Alone with yourself you felt unsettled. Lately, it had been happening more. You chalked it up to being stressed, but stress was a constant in your life. This emotion was blaringly obvious to you, but you didn’t understand. Why did him leaving leave a hint of sadness.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, totally. I’ll catch up with you soon.”

Logan pulled a face saying he wasn’t convinced. The others had already gathered their stuff and were heading towards the elevators. Yoongi suddenly threw his arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Let’s go. I need a drink.”

You couldn’t help but smile biting back laughter. Yoongi was a man of few words, but he always knew when to insert himself.  

You turn back to your desk when they’re out of sight. In all truth you didn’t want to go. You wanted peace, and despite wanting to follow the social cues it was the last thing you needed right now.

Accompanied by the lone light from your desk, the silence of the office greets you in full embrace. The electronic whorl of central air kicking on. You busy yourself with “last-minute” paperwork you had purposefully withheld on doing, knowing this celebrating was coming. The case had gone incredibly well, it was easy to prove the divorce with your added evidence. It was set to go to secondarily trial within the kind’s court. You just needed to give yourself enough time to know they were out of the building and you could go home.

“Y/n?”

You looked over your shoulder. Seokjin stood there, you could see wear of the day on him but it somehow painted him like oil paint. His hair was disheveled, and the top buttons of his white button up were undone.

“I forgot my wallet.”

You hum. It’s a bit awkward. Watching him round the desk to his in silence. Ever since you had turned in the case over to Yoongi, you had distanced yourself from him. There had been no incentive to not go because of him. It had been a looming idea over your head though that after this you weren’t going to be seeing him.

He held up his wallet, “Found it.”

“You found it.”

He swallowed tucking it in his pocket. He rounded the desk standing just near yours. His hand was clenched in a fist, words on the tip of his tounge.

“Well, it was great working with you Y/n.”

Standing up you extend out your hand. Staring at it for a moment his eyes soften taking yours in his.

“The truce was sufficient after all.” He joked.

“Don’t get too soft on me now.” You joked back.

He smiled. The handshake had long outlived itself, but you still held his and he held yours.

“Well, this is goodbye.” When you tried letting go his grip tightened. “Jin?”

“I can’t. I can’t keep pretending.”

“Pretending?”

“Pretending I’m okay with you walking out of my life again. Pretending that I’m not effected by you. I can’t. I can’t handle it for the second time.”

His logic was flawed. You didn’t allow your heart to pick up pace, fall into his words. “What do you mean? You said you didn’t need me.”

“I lied. I never meant what I said then. I never wanted to hurt you or push you away.”

Your eyes flicker about his face, looking for signs of deception but couldn’t find it. “Then, why did you?”

“I couldn’t control it, I couldn’t control my wolf. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Jin, you wouldn’t have hurt me.”

“No, I would have. I couldn’t control it back then, the urges were too intense. I’m weak when it comes to you.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“I do though. I was weak, and whenever you would come near me it became harder to control. The night I found you I couldn’t think straight. Now though, I can’t deny it anymore, I know what I want. And I want you.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you have a mate, what are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well don’t you?”

“I’m not seeing anyone or have claimed anyone—yet.”

You pausing looking at his distraught face.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“You don’t?”

“No.” His touches were romantic.

“Well I still don’t see what this conversation has to do with me.” , “Look, I’m not here to get mixed up in whatever.”

“Are you really that oblivious? Do you really not see it?”

“See what?”

He groaned rubbing his hands over his face. “Y/N, you’re killing me here.”

“It’s you. You are my mate.”

Everything froze around you.

Your hands trailed up his chest to wrap around his neck.

“My mate.”

“What?” You freeze. Attempting to put all the pieces of the puzzle together none of it makes sense to you. “You said so yourself humans can’t be mates.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you. You aren’t bound by the same instincts or rules that I am. I was worried, I thought it was only me who felt something. But it’s you, always has been.”

He pulled you closer, and you didn’t fight him.

“Please, I’ll tell you everything, but I need to know. Do you feel the same?”

You swallowed hard. “I do.”

His body melted. “Do you mean that?”

You rolled your eyes. Your hands were around his neck, pulling him down and your lips crashing onto his even before he could finish that sentence. The sudden softness in the midst of the charged tension had you even more sure that you wanted this. The electricity just a kiss from him confirmed it all. You did feel the same way, have for a long time. He reciprocated gripping the sides of your waist and lips moving in tandem with yours. All the built-up tension from before exploded as your tongue brushing against his.

You push him away needing to breath. Tucking his head into your neck he presses kisses into your skin not wanting to part from you. “Why were you so worried? Didn’t you know that I was your mate before?”

“No, we can only begin to find our mates after we’ve fully shifted.“

Finding a place between your neck and collar he nipped at the flesh causing you to moan and shiver. Appreciating the sound he dug his hand deeper into your hair angling your head so he could access it better. “I knew it was you for sure after I shifted, but you were human and I didn’t understand. I had always been told that a mate couldn’t be human. But its been you all along. My elders had tried to talk me out of it, they had tried to keep me away from you. It didn’t help that I had so much to learn after shifting. It didn’t change anything, I kept looking for you. From the first time I found myself in your closet, I was too young to understand destiny, but its always been you.”

You didn’t realize how much you wanted to hear those words from him until he admitted it.

“Why? Why were you so mean.”

“I couldn’t get your attention otherwise.”

You giggled into eachother mouth. “Dumbass, all of this could have been avoided.”

He pinched at your side causing you to shriek.

“Let me take you home.” His voice is low and sweet, and drips like honey.

It takes a second to register what he said, awestruck by how much the words feel common place. “Okay.”

He chases your lips before pulling you along with him. “Wait! I need to get my stuff.”

You laugh at the whine that comes form him as you collect your things form your desk. When you turn around he has his hand extended and you tangle your hand in his. You can’t get the smile off your face. The next movements are rushed as you find yourself in his car. His hand tangles back in yours as soon as he’s in the drivers’ seat.

It takes all about fifteen minutes to get to Jin’s apartment. The moments in between getting there were filled with tension as his hand no longer was just content holding yours but clenching over your thigh and kneading the flesh. Upon reaching his unit he fumbled with the code for a few seconds. When he finally had you inside he pressed himself to you. He no longer appeared to be completely human. His fangs were extended, eyes gleaming red, and he at you like a man starved. He rolls his hips to your center, letting you feel the evidence of his erection tight against his slacks. “Tell me what you want. Anything you want, you can have it.”

“Jin.” You moaned at the feeling of him pressed against your center. You wanted all of him, but you didn’t know how to voice it all. You wanted to feel his weight on top of you, feel him within you and to hold him against you. You wanted more than just that though, but words felt unfulfilling besides his name.

“You really don’t realize what you do to me.” He grabbed under your thighs lifting you up so that your legs rested over his arms while he supported you against the wall. He grinded into you again, his hot breath fanning over your face before he sloppily kissed you.

“You turn me into a beast.”

He shifted so that your legs were wrapped around his waist and he held onto you tightly as he moved towards his bedroom. It all happens so quickly. You were pressed down on his bed with him hovering over you. He tugged at your shirt silently asking for permission to remove it which you give him happily. He pulled it off you delicately, as if you were an art piece he was afraid of breaking. He reached behind you an unhook your bra, tossing it.

He stared for a few moments. You wanted to cross your arms over your chest but he stopped you.

“Beautiful.” He swallowed harshly. He leans down trailing his nose along your sternum before nuzzling at your breast. His hand trailed up the side of your body before reaching your breast and kneading the flesh. His thumb traces over your nipple until they pebbled. With the other his mouth sucked marked into your flesh before taking your nipple into his mouth. You release soft gasp at the gentle pleasure. He switched showering each breast with kisses and small bites until they were both marked.

He propped himself up as he moved his mouth down from your chest to your stomach, caressing your sides. He moved until he was nestled between your legs. Sitting back on his heels he reaches for the waistband of your skirt again asking for permission. Intoxicated on the feeling you nod at him lazily. He pulled it down landing somewhere with your other clothes.

He spread your legs wider fitting himself between your legs. You were so wet that the fabric of your panties stuck to you. Using the slick he traced his finger over your slit, focusing on your clit. Your back arched off the bed, bowing towards the ceiling. It was a simple touch, but you were hypersensitive to his touch. With his face between your legs he looks deliriously in bliss.

The dichotomy of his nature made him an anomaly. He was domineering but tender in each of his approaches. Each motion was made with love, but eagerness to feel you. No partner you’ve had before had been so attentive, trekking your body as it was meant to be explored and learned.

“Shit, Y/n, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?”

You gasped his name when he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your clit. He chuckled, “Is my name the only thing you can say now?”

You flushed, “Stop teasing me.”

He pressed a kiss to your knee soothing the teasing.

“Fuck, you smell so ready for me.”

“Please.” You pleaded breathlessly.

“Just a taste, please.”

You nodded threading your hands through his hair. He hooked his fingers in your panties and pulled them down tossing them somewhere in the room. Yanking you forward and closer to him he spreads your legs for him putting you on full display. Kissing up your thighs moving closer to your center. When he places a kiss on your mound before he begins to gently. He sighed against your folds. “Delicious.”

He taste you longer than just a sample as he buries his head between your legs. The sounds of your moans and mewls awaken the cavernous part of him. He growled, the sound sending shivers down your spine and making you even wetter.

“Jin!” you gasp, as he eats you out. When he pushes a finger inside you can’t help but tighten your grip on his hair. It felt so good, the stretch was sending your sensitivity to overdrive. It has been a long time since you’ve had sex with someone, but your cunt was accepting his finger easily. He worked you up and slipped another finger inside you, the stretch causing you to screw your eyes shut. Letting out a pained cry of pleasure and a bit of sting from the stretch.

“Doing so good for me Y/n.” His fingers moved to spread you open, to let him in. He watched you from between your legs as he increased his pace when he felt you relax a bit around him.

He was driving you crazy, the sounds he was admitting as if he was enjoying it more than you was such a turn on. No one had ever made you feel this way, as if he wasn’t just touching your body but your soul.  Your pressing your hips upwards, feeling your end coming near. Your pussy clenches around his finger when he keeps stroking that one spot within you. In combination with his lips on your clit and him finger fucking, you had never felt so much pleasure before.

“I’m—.” Your body tenses and you can feel yourself just on the edge.

“Come for me.” His words commanded you and like a band you snapped. Your walls pulsed around his finger as he kept you through your orgasm. He pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean. When he seems your release dripping down from your entrance he leaned down licking it up. He pressed his tongue inside you. The action surprising and jerk, but you couldn’t move away. His tongue moved languidly and rhythmically within you until he was content. He continued to lap of your sweet release until you pushed him away.

He crawled over you. “So good for me. Fate couldn’t have chosen a better mate.” His words were possessive but you didn’t mind it. The word mate fell off his lips so easily.

You came down from the high gradually, chest heaving, and eyes

You see that he was still hesitant to let it through. You reached up cupping his face, gently tracing your thumb. “Let go.”

“I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you.” He peppers kisses along your collarbone.

Your fingers make quick work of his shirt. You pause to admire his broad chest. It had been .

He grabs your hand before you reach for the button of his pants.

“Do you really know what this means. Know what I mean when I say you’re my mate and want you?”

“Yes, mark me. Claim me. I want you. I want all of you.”

“Even if it means forever?”

“yes.”

He allows you to undress the rest of him, he kicks off his pants and underwear and he’s completely bare before you.

His endowment makes your thighs clench. His cock was hard, thick and throbbing, the tip ozzing.

Coming down to his elbows he fits himself snuggly between your thighs, cock brushing your pussy. He reaches between you gathering your slick before spreading it over his cock. He teases your pussy by teasing your entrance, and with your slick he coats his cock with it.

“I’m going to fill you with my cum y/n. Knot you so none of it spills out.” He rubbed your hips. “You’d look so beautiful swollen with my pups.”

You couldn’t help but tremble, excitement filling your veins. You wanted to be sated, to feel him inside you already.

“I want it Jin.”

‘Anything for you, my love.”

That was the last warning you got before he was pressing into you. He watched your face as he filled with you with this thick length. You cried out, as you fisted the sheet under you. “Oh my god.”

His grip tightened on your hips enough you were sure they were going to bruise later. He was trembling just as much as you were. Slowly sinking in you he pumped until he was full seated inside you.

“Holy shit, this is way better than I’ve ever imagined.” He paused allowing you to adjust to his size.  

When you shifted against him he took it as a cue to finally move. He pulled out almost the full way before he was sliding back in slowly. It drew out a choked moan from the both of you. His length dragged against your walls hitting that spot each time.

“Harder, please, harder!” You cried out. You trusted him enough to know he would keep his strength in check. You knew he could crush you, as lifting you earlier seemed like nothing to him.

The pace was gentle until he picked up a merciless pace. Each powerful thrust pushed him in deeper to you. You were quickly unraveling approaching your second orgasm in record time. The sensation of everything was addicting as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Tears built in the corner of your eyes.

He mouthed at your neck murmuring, “My mate. My sweet little mate, so good for me. Taking me so well.”

Nearing your orgasm you began trembling in his embrace. “Come again for me, my love. Give it to me.”

You clenched around him, shattering around his cock and in the same moment he sunk his fangs sunk in between your neck and shoulder. The pain meshed with the pleasure into an addictive eliquer that flooded your system.

He kept going. “Too much Jin!”

Licking clean the marking he pulled away from your neck. He pressed your legs up into your chest. He could see his cock going in and out of your swollen lips. He kept pounding into you, somehow reaching deeper into you. “I’m going to fill you up, love. Do you want it baby?”

You nodded. “Give it to me.” Tears were spilling form your eyes from the overstimulation.

With a final slam of his hips his length swelled inside you spilling his seed within you. When you expected it to end his length was still swelling at the base.

“Jin, what’s happening?” Your nails dug into his shoulders.

“Shhh, baby, its okay.” His mouth slipped back over to your neck, kissing over the fresh mark. He peppered you with affection as his hands soothed your flesh. He relaxed your legs until they wrapped around his waist holding you close.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore the knot stopped swelling. You heaved, panting slightly from the painful stretch.

“You did so well.”

You smiled, pulling him to your lips to kiss. The way he was looking at you as if you were his world had you reaching up to cover your face.

“What just happened?”

He stilled, “Do you regret it?”

You pulled your hands away form his face. “No, no, no.” He easily succumbs when you pull him closer to you. You rub your nose against his back and forth, wanting to return the affection. “It was perfect.”

He flushed crimson.

 You spend hours after within eachothers embrace, even when his knot swelled down. You talked, whispered words of affection to eachother and fell into eachothers embrace again. Like the first time his touch is gentle, he praises the moon for bringing him to you. He leaves no part of you untouched, and you his.

You feel at home for the first time in a long time.

When the sun rises, you wake in his arms, head in the crook of his neck, as he held you tightly to his chest. Bodies still bare, you both felt there was no need to cover, he had his hand over your hip. Breathing in the scent of him and . The silence doesn’t feel uncomfortable. The sound of his heartbeat in your ear was calming.

Slowly pulling away from his neck you reach up and caress his face. With your thumb you trace under his eye and cheek with a butterflies touch.

“I love you.”

He smiles. “No. I’m supposed to say it first.”

You quirk a brow at him. “Who says so?”

He opened his eyes, the trails of sleep still evident. “I do. I love you, always have.” He captures your lips in his.

“You stayed.”

You pulled away. “Of course, I would.”

He smiled. “I know, but to have you here. In my bed. Next to me. It all seems like I’m still dreaming.”

“Oh my god, you’re so cheesy, you dork.”

“But you like it.”

Giggling as he peppers kisses all over your face you manage to worm out of his embrace. You jump out of bed. Taking his dress shirt from off the floor you toss it over yourself buttoning up a few buttons. “Don’t sour the sweetness too soon, wolf boy.” You let the last word roll but with no real malice. You know the word will rile him up.

From the bed he watched you. He had never seen anyone more beautiful. You had his heart that was for sure. He tossed the blanket off of himself chasing after you. “You take that back.”

You giggled running down his hall and out of sight with him chasing right behind you.

Even after the wildest journey, some things in life, like home, just won’t change.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Hobbit) Thorin x Reader: Dragonsickness and the Heart

(Author’s Note:  Well, it’s spring, and usually spring gets me in a hobbit/LotR mood, so here we are.  I actually wrote a shameless OC self-insert a few years ago, and decided to just take a section of it an make it a reader-insert.  

Warnings: Thorin acts like a lil creep, but in the end he wouldn’t do anything to hurt reader.  

While under the effects of the dragon sickness, Thorin says some things... You wonder if it’s the sickness talking, or perhaps it is his true feelings coming out.

Enjoy!)

   You struggled with the dwarvish armor, finally letting it fall to the ground. It was much too big and clunky: you could barely stand in it! Thorin had given the order for the Company to armor up, but it didn’t look like it would be possible for you. The clank of metal sounded in the armory around the corner, and you let out an exasperated sigh. You had taken your chosen armor to an empty room to avoid the humiliation as you attempted to try the foreign material on. Even after you managed to finally figure it out, the weight of the metal was too much. You weren’t exactly in the mood for endless teasing on Fili and Kili’s part. Dwalin might even find it humorous and would never let you live it down.

   Footsteps sounded around the corner, and you whirled around to come up with an excuse or explanation of some sort as to why you were hiding away like this. To your surprise, it was Thorin, all armored-up and looking…well…looking pretty good.

   Even with everything that had happened, after how crappy of a person he had become since the dragon sickness took its hold, you were surprised to feel your heartbeat pick up at the sight of him. He entered the dimly-lit room, eyes flickering from you to the bulky armor lying on the floor. He flashed an amused smile that made you feel weak.

   “Trouble?” he asked, pacing over with a raised brow.

   “Uh, y-yes,” you mumbled back, unable to meet his intense gaze. You tried to remind yourself that this wasn’t him. He wasn’t himself, yet it didn’t stop your heart from doing flips in your ribcage. “It obviously wasn’t going to fit. I don’t know why I tried anyways.

   “Because you’re you,” he responded with a chuckle, prompting a nervous laugh from you. He was being friendly, but there was still something off about him. His voice. He spoke in such a low and silky tone, practically laced with dragon sickness. It made you feel uneasy and not necessarily in a good way.

    As Thorin took a step forward, you caught movement in the corner of your eye and flinched out of instinct from being on the road. He noticed and paused, holding his hands up to show that he meant no harm. He only meant to give you something, he said. When you nodded, he rounded the corner until he was out of sight.  Moments later, he returned with a bundle of armor in his hands though these were different from the weighty pieces you had already tried. He handed you the iron shoulder plates first, and you marveled at the simple designs cast into them.  They looked as if they’d been made just for you.  Judging by the warmth in Thorin’s eyes, they had been.

   “These should suit you better.”

   You tentatively accepted the shoulder plates, fiddling with the leather straps that would hold them in place. You tried putting your arm through one loop as if it was a sleeve, but it felt wrong, so you tried a different angle, a different loop…

   As if reading your mind, Thorin took and unbuckled it. “Here.” 

   You gulped as he carefully took your arm and put it through the correct loop. Each movement he made was slow and drawn out, and you wondered for a minute if he was doing it on purpose just to make your heart race. It wasn’t doing anything to help the situations of your one-sided love towards him. You resolved to accept the rest of the armor politely and go find another hidden room to figure it out on your own, but as soon as the shoulder plates were secure, Thorin proceeded to strap on a chestplate.  Then he continued with a sort of metal shin guard.

   “There,” he said finally, checking some of the straps to ensure they were in place. “You will be much better protected.”

   “Yeah,” you murmured, releasing a breath.  “Thank you.”

   He gazed at you, placing a hand on each of your shoulders. “I will do all in my power to make sure you are safe.” Your eyes widened as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “You should know I have grown rather fond of you, _________.”

   You remained still, absolutely shocked at the unexpected statement. It felt as if your body wouldn’t respond.  Surely, he doesn’t actually mean what he says? It must have been some strange effect of the dragon sickness, right?  

   You had joined the Company early in the journey in hopes of changing the ending.  You and Gandalf had an understanding that you would gain the Company’s trust and use your knowledge of Middle-Earth to ensure the line of Durin survived.  From the moment you appeared on the dirt path in front of the Company in your modern clothes feeling lost and uncertain, Thorin hadn’t taken much interest other than to bark orders to you or spare a disdained glance at you and Bilbo at your “softness” when it came to life on the road. 

   Over time, you learned to place your trust in the Company and to do your part so they’d trust you- including Thorin.  He and you had started to bond, especially in Lake-Town when you’d spoken to each other outside in the snow during the celebration of the dwarves’ return to the mountain.  You even managed to make him smile a few times.  You realized that as Thorin had begun to trust you, you trusted him not only as a leader but as a friend, and your affection grew beyond what you’d originally thought.

   Still, you wondered if perhaps it was all in your head.  Thorin had seen you as young and naive early on, but that was only because of your inexperience in the world of Middle-Earth.  Things had changed.  Perhaps they had changed more than you thought?

   Thorin’s breath disappeared from your ear as he pulled away to circle aroundyou, the armor clanking with every step. You were frozen to the spot, but your lips managed to form words.

   “What about Balin? You told him that you felt nothing for me and that you were focused on the quest.”

   An eerie chuckle echoed from behind. “I told Balin what he wanted to hear. I told him that so he would not question me any further on the matter, but the truth remains…” His voice sounded right behind you. “I care about you.”

   He was saying what you wanted to hear all along, and yet it felt so wrong now. This wasn’t the real Thorin, right? You could not possibly accept this declaration of feelings knowing that he would snap out of it soon enough.

   “W-we should go join the others…”

   His arm snaked around your waist, earning a gasp from you. “I love you, ________, and I want you to say you feel the same.”

   “Thorin, I can’t. You’re not yourself. The stress of the Arkenstone and the battle must be affecting you.”

   “My own kin has betrayed me. One of them has taken the Arkenstone. Please, do not  turn away from me as well. Say you love me. Be my queen.”

   You were left breathless by his words. He had released you from his hold and circled back around to stand in front of you. Thorin leaned in, eyes flickering to your lips briefly. It was beyond tempting. All you had to do was lean in a few mere inches, and you would feel his lips on yours. It was what he wanted, and it was what you wanted…

   “I have to go,” you stated, putting some distance between the two of you. Thorin’s lips pulled down in a frown as you stepped around him.

   “You’re making a mistake,” he called over his shoulder.  “An offer such as this will not come again.”

   You hesitated at the doorway, shaking your head. “Then so be it.” And then you left. You didn’t dare look back as you hurried down the halls to get as far away from him as possible. He was crazy. Insane.

   And so are you for turning him down, a small voice screamed from within your mind. You could have been his, even for a short time. You could have had his love, even if it was twisted.  His kiss. His embrace… It could all have been yours if you had just said so.

   But it was wrong, and you knew it, to take advantage of his situation.

   “Bilbo!” You halted when you rounded a corner and almost collided with him. “Where are you off to?”

   He glanced around to make sure no one was near, holding a long rope coiled up in his hand. “I can’t just stand by and do nothing. I am taking the Arkenstone to Bard to use for bargaining. It’s the only way the people of Lake-Town will get their fair share.  Hopefully, we will avoid war.”

   “That’s a great idea. I’ll cover for you while you’re gone.”

   “Thank you, ________,” he whispered gratefully. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

   You pulled him into a quick hug. “Be careful. I’ll see you later!” You parted ways with the hobbit once more, him heading for the front gate while you lingered in the corridor. You felt so alone, standing there. None of the dwarves could understand the situation.

   It wasn’t the time to tell Bilbo what had occurred with Thorin.   It would be yet another dark secret to weigh on you for now, along with the possible fate of the journey.

   That night, the dwarves talked and laughed by the fire as usual. Even though they had all of Erebor to go off and choose a room from, the Company still liked to gather together to share a meal and camp out just like old times. Fortunately, Thorin never participated, spending his days and nights in the throne room. You joined the group, glad to have something take your mind off of the recent events. Bofur led the group in a few songs, Fili and Kili told jokes, Nori and Dori bickered and teased each other, Ori laughed along with Bombur, Bifur, Oin, and Gloin.

   Balin and Dwalin were in a more solemn mood, but couldn’t help cracking a smile every now and then. At some point, the dwarves started sharing stories of hilarious hardship over the course of the quest.

   “But don’t you remember the time in the beginning of the journey when we had to cross that river?” Bofur asked with a grin, earning a few bursts of laughter. “Quite a few of us took a plunge that day!”

   “I lost a lot of supplies,” Bombur said with a nod.

   “And what supplies you did have left was soaked!” Bofur laughed, slapping his knee.

   “I do recall the stew being soggier than usual that night,” Gloin joked.

   “Or what about the afternoon when _________ quite literally got sick of traveling?” A teasing grin spread across Kili’s face. “She jumped off of her pony to go throw up in the bushes.”

   “Hey! I felt terrible that day!” you protested playfully. “Besides, it’s not like I had ever ridden a pony all day every day for weeks before.”

   “The best part was that Thorin scolded her anyway for holding the Company up,” Fili chuckled.

   “Well, I’m pretty sure I remember a time when you and your brother were supposed to be watching the ponies and nearly got us all eaten by trolls when we had to go find them.”

   “Ooh, that’s cold,” Kili feigned offense, unable to hide the amused grin. 

   “You don’t miss a thing, lass,” Bofur teased.

   “Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, still smiling. No one asked about Bilbo, or wondered aloud where he was. The hobbit had been spending more time alone as of late, so it wasn’t unusual for him to not join them for dinner. He would return before dawn, you knew, but as each hour passed that evening, you became a little more anxious.

   You managed to set aside your worries and let sleep overtake you. You fell into a deep sleep, and a certain dwarf king haunted your dreams that night.

[bi-bi-buckleydiaz]

dare night | owen joyner

requested; no, i got inspired while watching OTH for the hundredth time. but please request jatp or tom / peter things !!

words; 3.3K was not expecting it to be this long. kinda got away from me. also unedited I just wanted to get it out ;)

a/n; not me writing an OTH inspired fic for my new beau owen joyner...oop. anyway, hope ya like it. it is unedited because i just finished it and i really wanted to just get it out for y’all. 

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this.” 

“C’mon Owen it’ll be fun,” Charlie says, excitement pouring from him like a golden retriever puppy. Owen sighs at his best friend before looking at the rest of his friends behind Charlie. 

“Yeah, Owen, we’re only young once. And y’all only get Jadah and I unsupervised once in a blue moon, we have to appreciate that time.” The cast laughs as Madi smiles wide, probably more excited about this proclaimed ‘dare night’ than it’s creator. Speaking of...

“Listen, I already have the dare’s written up and I know you hate to waste paper.” Charlie’s practically pouting now, so Owen really can’t say no to that. 

“Fine, let’s get this over with.” Everyone cheers as the final member takes his place around the kitchen island. The cast, minus Cheyenne of course because he’s “too old to partake in this. It’s a teens only event.” “We’re in our twenties Charlie.” “SEMANTICS!”,  are gathered in Owen and Charlie’s apartment around their kitchen island, all waiting for their teams and dare card. 

“The rules are simple, boys versus girls. Then you each split into teams of two -” 

“But there’s an uneven amount on each team. Five against five.” Jadah points out, smiling at Charlie's small ‘shit’ and long sigh. He thinks for a minute before a metaphorical light bulb goes off above his head and he’s smiling again. 

“Then a boy and girl will have to be together. Just split the points at the end.” Satisfied with the idea, everyone nods. No one misses the way Jeremy and Carolynn smile at each other.  

“Now, you all have phones, you have to document one of you completing the dares either with a photo or a video. After the first dare is complete, you’ll get the second one. I’ve asked strangers around where your dare takes place to give you the next ones. They were very accommodating and are very excited to see y’all. We’ll all meet back here at midnight. Team that gets the most points, wins.” Charlie is practically vibrating by the time he’s finished, proud of his little game he put together and that everyone is just as excited as he is, well, minus Owen of course. But that’s because he’s nervous about doing unknown dares in public. Sure he puts on this face of being quirky and cool and fun, doesn’t mean some things don’t scare him. 

“So everyone, pick your partners, pick your card, and let the dares begin!” Madison and Jadah immediately jump for each other, Carolynn and Jeremy grabbing hands before Charlie is even done speaking. Savannah and Tori high give, Sacha and BooBoo look at each other and shrug, assuming the wonder twins will want to stick together. Everyone is shocked though when Charlie bounces over to Sacha and slings his arm around his shoulders, shooting Owen an apologetic look in the process. 

“Sorry bro, but I think we both know if we go at this together we’ll get nothing done and, I’d kinda like the boys to win.” Madi covers her mouth and the confession while the rest laugh. Owen groans and then goes red when BooBoo shoots him a look. 

“That was rude! I’m glad to be your partner BooBoo don’t get me wrong. Seriously, so excited.” Owen begins to panic and is set to keep babbling before BooBoo laughs and lightly punches Owen’s shoulder.

“Relax dude, let’s go kick some dare ass!” Everyone cheers and grabs a card off the table before rushing out the door to their respective vehicles, Madi managing to borrow her dad’s car for the night, thanking God that she passed her road test before season 2 started. 

“So, what dare did we get?” Owen asks when he and BooBoo reach the car. He starts it up while BooBoo rips open the envelope. 

“We...ooh no.” He starts to giggle before he can even finish. Owen can feel his heart start to race.

“Oh no, what’d we get?” 

“Hehe we, ha, we have to return some clothes...” Owen let’s out a sigh of relief. 

“That’s not too bad.” 

“While wearing them,” BooBoo finishes. Owen freezes. 

“Excuse me!?” BooBoo breaks into a loud laugh at Owen’s shock, handing him the card in the process. “No way! Is Charlie insane?” What the hell was he thinking? What if someone recognizes him while he’s taking off a shirt to return it? Wait, why is he the one doing the returning?

“No. Nope. No way, we lose this point. What’s the next one?” BooBoo is still laughing as he shakes his head. 

“You heard Charlie, we only get the next one if we complete this one.” Owen groans, accepting his fate. 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” 

“Believe it drummer boy. Especially since you’re gonna be the one doing it.” Owen whips his head towards BooBoo, almost breaking his neck in the process. 

“No way. Dude, no. Way.” Owen is ready to get on his knees and beg. 

“Um, well, the sizes are on the card and they match you,” BooBoo says, watching Owen begin to pout and accept his fate. BooBoo would feel bad if he didn’t think this was going to be a hilarious night. “C’mon, get driving.” Owen groans once more before driving away, accepting his fate that this night will be a wreck. 

~ ~ ~

Shopping alone is boring. 

Y/N asked friends, obviously, but they were all busy doing something or someone, so she was left alone to shop for christmas gifts. Sure it’s early, like, two months early, but she learned a long time ago that when you live alone as a young adult, living paycheck to paycheck, it's best to shop for gifts in increments and not all at once near christmas time. So here she is, shopping alone in a mall near the stores closing times because that’s the only time she can spare. 

It’s not all bad, late night shopping means not a lot of people in the mall and those who are here are strung out college kids like here. Sure there have been some creepy guys eyeing her up and down, but when she felt those looks she made it clear to go to a store that had security in front of it, even if that meant staring longingly and things she can’t afford. 

Y/N’s about half an hour into shopping for her niece and nephew when she hears a commotion on the other side of the clothing store. She quickly glances over then looks back to the shirt she was admiring, before realizing what she saw couldn’t be quite right. She looks over again, and holy shit, her eyes weren’t deceiving her. There really is a guy at the cash register shirtless and in the middle of taking his pants off. 

Y/N takes back her previous statement, shopping alone is so not boring. 

It’s then she notices a security guard enter the store, hand on the walkie talkie on his shoulder. There’s no way that’s going to end good. She doesn't know why she does it, but one second she was holding a shirt for her nephew and the next she's pushing the rack of clothes in front of the guard and grabbing the near naked and guy and running. She hears a camera snap behind her and a ‘hey wait up’ but all she’s really focused on is getting the guy out of the mall before he’s arrested for public indecency or something. 

The hand in hers tugs her to stop just before the reach the mall doors, making her halt in her running. She looks back and ‘woah, he’s pretty.’ 

“Hey, not that I’m thankful but, my friend...” Pretty eyes trails off and he takes in a breath and wait, when did she start calling him pretty eyes. No! He’s a stranger. 

“Yeah well, your friend isn’t the one half naked in the mall getting chased by security.” He ponders it for a minute then nods. “So let’s go. I promise i’m not gonna murder you, just gonna take you to the parking lot so you don’t get arrested for public indecency and end up on the sex offender registry.” Pretty eyes get’s scared at that and then begins to nod vehemently. 

“Yeah, yeah that’s bad. Lets go!” As he says that, security appears behind them. She grabs his hand and they book it out of the mall and into the shockingly cold autumn air. She doesn’t know where this guy’s car is so she leads him to hers, praying she’s not making a mistake. 

~ ~ ~

Owen doesn’t know how he ended up here. He remembers putting the clothes that were in the locker on and he remembers going to the first store and returning the shoes, but after that he thinks the adrenaline kicked in and he blacked out from it. One minute he was taking his pants of trying not to die of utter embarrassment and the next, some girl was dragging him out of the mall and to her car in the parking lot. He doesn’t know why he let this stranger drag him out of the mall, but he’s not really complaining as she shoves him into the back of her car, away from prying eyes. He only begins to panic when she climbs in next to him and shuts the door. Once the silence settles around them does reality finally settle in and does he realize what he actually just did. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit what did I do! Oh my God that could have ended so bad! Oh my God!” He panics for another minute before a hand settles on his bare shoulder. 

“Hey. Hey! You’re fine. They didn’t follow us out, you’re not getting in trouble.” Her voice is soothing, he’ll admit, and he can feel the anxiety begin to ease back. But it doesn’t change the fact that he was just half naked in the mall where anyone could have recognized him and taken pictures. Granted, Charlie did think about that and put a random blue baseball cap and glasses in the bag of clothes too. But still, that’s like, nothing! He goes to grab his phone to check instagram before realizing he’s only in his underwear. In a random girls car. In a Vancouver mall parking lot. She seems to realize this at the same time because she clears her throat and scooches to the other side of the car. 

“Um, do you, do you like, have clothes or something I can go retrieve or...” He nods and goes to give her the key to the locker, then remembers, no pants. They chuckle at the same time and looks down at her purse, rummaging through it for her phone. He takes it from her with a small ‘thanks’ hoping his cheeks aren’t showing how flushed he feels. He quickly dials BooBoo’s number, giving him the details of what went down, asking the girl where they are and reporting it back to him, then hangs up. 

“Um, thanks. For that. And for saving me from being arrested. That was, thanks.” The girl giggles and nods. “I’m Owen, by the way. I don’t normally run around malls in my underwear.” He sticks his hand out, hoping she’ll take it and give a name in return. He’d really like the pretty girl's name. 

“I’m Y/N. I don’t normally take random, half naked strangers to my car.” He laughs at that and they shake hands. 

“Well, thanks for making an exception.” They stare at each other for another few seconds before a knock on his window makes them break apart. He looks over and sighs in relief at BooBoo and his clothes in his hand. He opens the door and jumps out, taking the clothes from BooBoo and immediately shoving his legs into his pants. The girl get’s out after him, smiling at him balancing on one foot and trying not to fall over. 

“Thanks, for saving him. No hard feelings for leaving me in the dust.” BooBoo smiles as he says it so Owen hopes the girl doesn’t take it too harshly. She laughs though and, woah, that’s a nice laugh. He’s so focused on her smile and the way she says her name that he puts his shirt on backwards. He doesn’t notice until BooBoo points it out, laughing as he does. When Owen is properly dressed again, he takes a deep breath and leans against the car. 

“When I see Charlie, I’m gonna murder him. We’ll have to film the rest of the season without him. Kenny can deal.” Owen only realizes what he’s said when BooBoo shoots him a look. Y/N looks at the two in confusion, before looking back at Owen. 

“You’re an actor?” He nods and watches as her face goes from confused to angry. “And you got undressed in a mall? How stupid are you?” She punctuates the last sentence with punches to his arm. BooBoo giggles in true BooBoo fashion as Owen rubs his arm. He watches her take out her phone and he looks over her shoulder as she opens twitter. She goes to the search bar, pauses, and then looks up at him. 

“Full name?” 

“Oh um, Owen Joyner.” He watches her type it in and breathes a sigh of relief as nothing but Alex edits pop up. She tries Instagram next, then TikTok, and gets the same answers as before. Nothing about him being naked in a mall, just fan edits of him and him as Alex. 

“You are so lucky no one saw you dude, your career would be over.” She says, closing her phone and putting in her pocket. “What were you thinking?” He can’t help but feel scolded and slightly cowers in response. She notices and immediately softens. “Sorry, I just met you, I shouldn't be so mean.” A pause. “But that was still really stupid.” BooBoo giggles and Owen shoots him a look before nodding and looking back at Y/N. 

“Yeah but, it was a dare.” 

“And you just accepted it?” Owen feels his cheeks go red and looks at his feet. 

“Well, yeah. We wanna win.” Y/N giggles and looks between the two boys. 

“Seriously? So what is this? Some sort of dare game night?” The boys nod, then BooBoo lights up and reaches into his pocket for the next dare. 

“Speaking of, the cashier at the store gave me the next dare. Are you ready?” Owen groans and BooBoo takes it as an affirmative. He opens the envelope and quickly glances at Y/N before reading it aloud for Owen. 

“Take a picture in a photo booth with a stranger.” Y/N glances at the card and sees words on the back too. 

“There’s something on the back.” BooBoo flips it and begins to giggle again. 

“No way. Oh man Owen.” 

“Me! Why me? I just walked naked around a mall!” 

“Because it’s asking you to kiss a stranger and my girl would kill me if I did this.” Y/N blanches at that and begins to slowly and hopefully discreetly back away from the two boys. But Owen catches her. 

“Hey.” He looks nervous and begins to fiddle with his fingers. “You don’t have to! Obviously! I mean, you already saved me once, but, like I kinda know you now and you’ve already seen me shirtless...” He trails off and flashes puppy dog eyes at the girl. She huffs and groans and finally, “Fine. Let’s get this over with. Y’all better win this stupid game though.” Owen smiles bright and Y/N tries to ignore the butterflies in her stomach at the sight. She just met this boy for god sakes! 

The three young adults head back into the mall to one of the strips that has a photo booth. BooBoo giggles as he all but shoves the two into the small area, singsonging a “good luck” before pulling the curtain closed. 

Awkward silence falls over the two as they squeeze together on the small seat. They smile nervously at each other as they hear BooBoo drop coins into the slot outside. 

“Um, so, do you wanna like -” 

SNAP! 

They giggle and look at the camera with smiles in time for the next one. 

SNAP!

Y/N looks back at Owen and, in a moment of confidence, grabs Owen’s shirt and brings his face closer to his. 

SNAP!

He glances at her lips, licks his own, then they’re kissing. His lips are soft and she sinks into him. She feels his tongue lick her bottom lip and almost lets a moan slip as she opens her mouth a bit for him. They don’t even hear the last snap, too caught up in each other. Her hands move to his hair and his hold her hips tight. They break for air eventually, eyes closed as they breathe in and giggle. 

“That was um...” Y/N nods. “Yeah. That was, yeah.” She feels him tilt his head towards her again for another kiss, but the curtain opening pulls them apart. They jump apart, as much as they can in the small booth, and stare at BooBoo like they were caught doing something bad. He’s smirking and shaking the photo strip in his hands. 

“Oh yeah, we’re definitely winning.” Owen breathes out a laugh and Y/N nods, taking BooBoo’s offered hand to help her out. 

“Um, I better, go, yeah, I should go. I hope you guys, uh, win or something.” Y/N hikes her purse up her shoulder and begins to walk away, eyes on her feet and hands shaking as they go into her pockets. She’s almost to the exit when a hand wraps around her upper arm. 

“Hey wait up!” Owen. “Um, I just, that was, that was something right? I wasn’t imagining that? That was like, could I have um, number? Could I have your number?” He’s stuttering, face red and hands shaking in his pockets. Y/N has to giggle, feeling a bit calmer knowing she’s not the only one who’s feeling something. 

“Yeah, that was number worthy.” They smile while exchanging numbers, then keep smiling as Owen leans and kisses her cheek. 

“Thanks for saving my ass twice tonight,” he whispers in her ear before leaning back. Y/N nods and begins to back away. 

“Yeah well, it’s a pretty nice ass.” With that she turns and practically runs back to her car, not believing what a night it's been. 

~ ~ ~

“And we’re tied! Although, there is one more dare on the table.” Charlie giggles, knowing exactly what it is, saving for last for a reason. Carolynn swipes it off the table before anyone else can, ripping it open and smiling at the words. 

“Kiss a member of your team.” She sees Jeremy smile and buff up, getting ready for smooch from his wife since they were partners. Carolynn smiles and leans towards him, before quickly grabbing Tori’s neck and giving her a chaste kiss on the lips. Everyone laughs and cheers, Jeremy pouting at his girl while she grabs his hand. 

“Well then, unless any of the boys kissed a stranger in a photo booth, the girls win.” BooBoo goes to raise his hand, but Owen stops him. BooBoo shoots him a look but Owen shakes his head, hoping he gets why. Why he doesn’t want to mention Y/N. Sweet, life-saving Y/N who didn’t even know who he was or hell, who BooBoo was. Who just saw a random guy in need of saving and didn’t think twice about helping him. BooBoo lets it go, and Owen nods a thanks. He cheers for the girls as they accept their win, hand rubbing the picture strip in his pocket, and mind preparing a text to Y/N as soon as he can escape to his room. 

Maybe dare night wasn’t such a bad idea.