#he is carefully contemplating where to order cake from.

[kirby-the-gorb]

[plscallmeeren]

S E R V I N G Y O U

Ororo Imogen Munroe x Reader

Request: yes

Summary: your right side can do fire manipulation and your left side is ice (long live Shoto Todoroki).

Citation backstory: y/n was a unique case among mutant kind, you see he didn't have the mutant gene awakened in adolescence by chance, his power was guaranteed, his mother mother may have been human but his father was a mutant, y/n was presented the option to study at the Xavier institute but he felt he could blend into society preety easily because you wouldn't know he had a power unless he told you, or if you were smart enough to point out heterochromia, most importantly he didn't want to leave his parent so, so he remained in New York, fighting for mutant kind in his own way, working at coffee shop that served as a way for mutants to feel welcome and with a percentage of the money he makes going to mutants in need

Anyways Storm hears about this coffee shop and decides she simply must visit

Warnings: Swearing; discrimination

Word Count: 2.2K+

Ororo was easy to impress when it came to humans handling mutants well, which was a sad effect of a sadder story, of course. But nevertheless, her curiosity doubled when she heard the urban legends surrounding what she had considered, in passing, to be an extraordinarily normal coffee shop.

She walked quickly as she contemplated this idea. A simple place with no particular goal in mind, and yet somewhere mutants and humans could coexist. It sounded fanciful, almost, but from what she had heard it rather worked.

Ororo paused, looking up from her map. Yes, this was it.

She regarded the carefully crafted golden letters on the window panes, pushing open the door and exhaling at the sound of a melodious bell.

She had never seen such a wonderful coffee shop before.

To the right of the door, a bar weighed down by various coffee machines and kettles and glass-domed surfaces displaying cakes. Behind it, two waiters meandered to and fro, making surprisingly quick work of their orders considering their movements seemed so lazy.

To the left and ahead, gnarled wooden tables sunk their talons into the dents they had carved into the floor, no chair the same type, colour or material, even though every one was warmed by the fireplace, its stokers dusted with ash.

Beside the entry, a bar met by countless stools faced the enormous windows, ancient typewriters and other random but precious things placed in every corner there wasn't a ridiculously happy pot plant.

Behind, large bookshelves surrounded a secluded area of seating arrangements rearing more in the direction of couches and beanbags, books and magazines and art collections literally piled everywhere.

It felt like home, it smelt like the home of an enthusiast of coffee and tea and chocolate. Music ranging from punk to Kate Bush and back to The Doors hummed in the near background, a whisper over her shoulder.

But the best part were the customers: the people who looked "normal" and the ones with horns or wings or scaly skin - all this in a place barely hidden, unless you counted the vines traipsed comfortably around the grilles.

She sat down, opening the menu. She had just found the lunch section when the door slammed open, the bell chiming erratically as he stomped through conversations, slumping into a chair with an expression of plain disgust.

Ororo knew that look. Her appetite drained so fast she had to set the menu down.

A waiter - a handsome waiter, if she was honest - approached him apprehensively, politely asking what he wished to have. She noticed the colour of your eyes, the clash of blue and... red?

"I'm not giving you my service until these muties leave," the man spoke gruffly, eyeing the room suspiciously. Some talk had died down, and Ororo wanted to transform every fearful face she recognized all too well into what they had recently been.

You opened your mouth to reply, but the man beat you to it. "They don't belong here, in civilization, where real people are. If you want my money, get them out, with a few kicks if you have to! Maybe then this could be a proper shop..."

Ororo swore she could see the waiter gulp, eyes narrow, calm his voice in preparation. You closed your notebook determinately. "I'll ask you only once to take your business elsewhere. We do not want your money." Ororo's heart leaped.

The man blustered, demanding to see the manager among a variety of curses.

"I am the manager, sir," you said harshly, pointing at your chest. "As much as I am a waiter."

The angered man shoved his finger against your chest, applying a fair bit of force, but you didn't budge. Your gaze hardened. "Where's your shame, you damn mutant lover! Serving those fucking retards over your own mother's kind-"

Your hand shot forward, grasping his finger tightly. Ororo's eyes widened as she watched you bend it back, neglecting the cries of pain you elicited. "Everyone has a place here, maybe even you, if you ever learn to be better. But even so, I have the right to refuse service to anyone. Understand me? Now get the hell out of my damn shop before I actually hurt you."

Your voice was deadly and low, a growled threat that deserved nothing less than the wail in return as the man scrambled out of your place holding his finger like it might fall off.

You turned once, looking at guests calmly but deliberately, encouraging them to immerse themselves once again into conversation. You turned to a white-haired woman, dark skin illuminating the beauty of her brown eyes.

"Apologies for the wait - we're usually quicker to serve."

"It's fine, really. I'd take a cappuccino, though," she smiled, eyes alight. You were beautiful, and your eyes were like wild and calm all at once.

"It will be right out," you smiled back, bowing playfully. "I look forward to serving you." Ororo grinned despite herself.

A few minutes later you had returned with her cappuccino, accompanied by a piece of cake. "On the house," you added as she was about to remind you she hadn't ordered food. "For the wait. I dare say everyone likes chocolate cake."

She laughed, nodding. You started to walk away, but she called you back. "Sorry, I just- may I speak to you for a moment?"

"Sure, my break's coming up anyway," you agreed, oblivious to why she should ask you to talk. "How can I help you?"

"Please, sit, you'll make me nervous," Ororo offered, gesturing to the chair across from her. You obliged. "You're a mutant, aren't you?"

If you were surprised, she certainly couldn't tell. "What makes you say that?"

"When you were angry before, the it cooled down in here, as in the temperature shifted. Subtle - but detectable." She smiled proudly, glint above the darkness of her irises.

"Why would you care?" you replied, somewhat harshly, defensively. One anti-mutant a day was plenty, and here you were sacrificing your break...

Ororo's hand was firm as she placed it on yours comfortingly. "Don't worry, no blackmail. Why would I do that to one of my own?" Her eyes flashed white for a moment, and your muscles relaxed slightly.

"Well, you are right," you admitted sheepishly. "But forgive me for asking - why does it matter?"

"I swear I only wanted to talk. Maybe that's silly, but you must have an interesting story - hopefully not a too painful one. It's wonderful seeing a shop welcome mutants so openly."

You looked her right in the eye; saw the fire and light, but also the calm. Her gentle smile caressed her features, a silent 'don't worry, darling' that you wished wouldn't work as well as it did.

"I've always wanted a place everyone could coexist. Without needing to hide or blend in, that is. I had to pull a lot of strings legally for it to work. It's fucking ridiculous, actually. The owner of this place, Leblanc... well, he was a big part of it."

"If I may... when did you manifest?" You didn't miss how she leaned forward over the table, staring up at you in interest that bordered on awe.

"As long as I can remember, it's always been there."

"Not in puberty?"

You shook your head. "Apparently a mutant father can make that happen. Speeding up the process and all that."

"A mutant and a human fell in love?" she asked somberly, momentarily forgetting where she was at all. This could have been home. This could have been the place such a star-crossed romance would find its roots.

"Yes, although it wasn't easy, of course," you smiled, bittersweet. "My father was hunted for what he is and my mother's family disowned her. She doesn't regret it, though - at least not when she's around us. She always says that what she lost in that family she gained tenfold in her new one. My siblings and I in particular."

"I'm sure they're very proud of you, opening a place like this," she ventured, lost in ideas of a brighter future, of hope, of a kind of love that truly mattered.

You smiled. "I'm glad if I can make a difference. It's not that powerful, you know, not like one of those schools or an anything educational, but... I think this can be important, too. I'm really sorry, but I've got to return to my shift," you amended, standing and bowing again. "Maybe we can continue this talk sometime?"

Ororo hesitated, then decided if she had ever believed in romance as a cause, she had better listen to herself. "I have nowhere to be. I could wait for you..."

"Are you willing to wait an hour?" you smirked, already surprised, but impressed as she winked in confirmation.

"One hour, then. I'll pass the time just fine, I think."

You bit your lip as if that would do anything to stop the blush from reaching your cheeks. Instead, you turned around and continued your shift. Then again, your eyes never could stop wandering toward her as she sipped her coffee, ate her cake, searched the rows of carefully selected volumes and finally settled on Kafka's Contemplations.

An hour later you stood in front of her again, a loyal disciple whether you liked it or not. There was no turning back from such a picture of grace.

You left the cafe together, walking slowly as if to prolong the brief silence.

"What is your gift, (y/n)? Let me guess... something cold?"

You smirked, allowing a thin layer of ice to encompass your right hand, formation of a swan shaping itself from crystal water. "Half right." Fire erupted from your left arm, singing the edge of your shirt and setting a burnt smell into the air. She liked it.

"Two powers... fascinating. I assume your eyes are linked to that?"

"Good guess; not many notice. I assume your white hair has something to do with...?"

She straightened slightly, but did not fear the conversation. "You would think, but not quite. I come from a royal Kenyan bloodline, of which every member has white hair and magic. I had yet to learn that for me it was more than magic, but..."

Hey eyes grew luminous and the dark clouds ahead dispersed. You blinked.

"The weather... now that is fascinating," you awed, still looking up.

"Unfortunately, all the hair does is make me look older."

"Beautiful's a better word," you corrected her, eyes meeting once again.

"I..." Ororo only stared, baffled by such a rare compliment.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, looking away. "I didn't mean to overstep-"

"You did no such thing," she said firmly, refusing to escape to the sight of pavement as you had. "I meant to say thank you."

"Have you heard of the Xavier Institute?" she asked after a moment's pause, hesitant to ask.

"Can't think of a mutant who hasn't."

"Why didn't you join?"

"How do you know I didn't?"

"Just answer."

You sighed. "I guess there wasn't any need. I blend in well and didn't want to leave my family... why would I?"

“I don’t know. But… even if not for school, you know there is always room for mutants? For X-Men?”

She was staring at you, gaze piercing. You swore if you looked any longer, you’d be obliged to lean in, to go as close as possible-

Her phone rang violently, begging her to retrieve it from her pocket. The moment passed, though its gravity remained imprinted on your mind.

“Hello? Yeah. Okay. I’m coming.”

You watched her slip the phone back into her jacket, move her eyes mournfully to you own.

“I have to go.”

“I heard.”

“Can I have your phone?”

You hesitated, but handed it over nonetheless. She opened contacts, typing in her number and name at top speeds. “I look forward to seeing you again. Another day, maybe soon?”

“Soon sounds good.”

“Thank you.”

‘What for?’, you could have asked. But you both knew what for, and redundancy was a sin in its own right.

Your hand hovered near hers for a moment before she took it, gently, softly, so far from afraid. Your hand was warm against hers, a comfort. Hers was cool, invigorating.

She let go, and you watched as Ororo soared through the air, another cloud. An angel came to mind, though wings would have been gratuitous. The sky itself carried her, lent her a helping hand.

Ororo looked back once, and when she looked forward, she saw the very same.

[son-tatso]

BouTEAque Time [Tatso & Tater]

son-tatso Tatso a Saiyan Time Patroller was sent to a certain era to investigate a distortion, though he was stuck, unable to find any leads beyond the where and when it was last detected. He supposed he should wait around to see if it happens again, so found himself exploring this time's West City to pass the time.

“Oh, BouTEAque? Haha that’s good!” he laughed at the punny coffee shop name he walked past it, getting interested enough for him to go in to check it out.

“Hello! I like the name of the shop, is there anything you would recommend?” Tatso asked the nearest staff member. He had a striking resemblance to a teenage Gohan and Goten due to his hair, though he hoped he could pass himself as a normal human civilian with spiky hair, having changed from his Sayan armour to more normal clothes before entering the city so he could blend in. // for Tater

@dragvnsovl answered:

As soon as she heard a customer entering, Tater gave an automatic greeting in a cheerful tone, tossing a friendly smile in their direction. "Welcome!"

She finished up cleaning a table before turning towards the newcomer when he gave his question, folding the rag in her hand and placing it on the table's surface with a hum of thought. "Recommendations..? Oh, there's quite a few. We have a particularly large selection of teas and coffees with different flavors. Our confections and pastries are also popular, especially the pies and cakes. I'm fond of the carrot cake, myself." Perhaps a bit on the nose considering her long bunny ears that twitched curiously.

She paid no mind to his hair, having seen her fair share of interesting customers. Lifting a hand up, she tapped a finger against her chin in contemplation. "Though, since the weather has been hot lately, perhaps something refreshing like a lemon and mint iced green tea? Our chocolate banana semifreddo has been a hit so maybe you would enjoy that?"

-

“Yes,” Tatso confirmed, listening to Tater carefully, mentally noting down her recommendations. He wasn’t exactly hungry, just more thirsty if anything. “You’re right, it is actually quite hot today. So I’ll have a large lemon and mint iced green tea please.”

Deciding on the order, he looked around the place while waiting. It seemed friendly and lively enough, and he doubted the food and drinks were bad either, it was likely he would come back again for a pick-me-up at some point later.

[wintergojo]

dkahkdhakdha imagine dadgojo and his little dumpling on the hunt/search of chocolate eggs scattered and hidden around the house while wearing little bunny ears and carrying a little basket! the entire scene being so adorable and funny kdjhakdhakd. Gojo tried to eat one but the little one scolded him because they can't eat until they find them all. gojo helping him reach the ones hidden on high places while S/o is enjoying the view and snaping pics of this wholesome moment :')

anon this was such a cute idea ( ๑>ᴗ<๑ ) tho i’m really really really sorry it took me so long to respond and it’s not even easter month anymore 😭😭😭

"yuweka!!"

your toddler's squeals echoed throughout your down floor bathroom as he found the sixth easter egg you and your husband had hidden around the house. you capture the moment with your phone, smiling tenderly at how your baby adorably mispronounces 'eureka' every time he spots a small oval-shaped object.

"dada, lookie!" your son effortlessly raises his light blue basket full of the medium-sized chocolate eggs he had already found. the said eggs made by you and satoru after tucking seishiro into sleep last night had a tempered chocolate as the outermost layer, a lemon drizzle flavored sponge cake as the inner layer, and a raspberry filling as the innermost layer. the whole egg was homemade and made with buckets of his parents’ love, except for its wrapper which was a variety of colorful patterned beeswax paper that you ordered from amazon japan (satoru refused to use colored aluminum foils as they weren't reusable).

the father, wearing his white and blue bunny ears, beams at his son before praising him for his efforts, "great job, dumpling! i wonder where the rest are? hmmm." the older man then comically looks up in contemplation as he holds his chin with his thumb and index finger.

seishiro lets out a giggle before toddling excitedly out of the bathroom, his cerulean eyes immediately scanning his surroundings like a predator hunting for a prey (in his case chocolate eggs).

it's cute. how your baby tries his very best to appear intimidating as he whips his head back and forth. yet with him holding that little basket you yourself crotched while wearing those white and purple fluffy bunny ears that match his hair, he just looks like a tiny kitten searching for a carrot.

your little boy was so excited for his second easter egg hunting that he managed to wake up fifteen minutes before seven a.m., throwing you and satoru off when he suddenly appeared screaming "eggies!!" while you were still setting up for his egg hunt. (you had to convince him to eat his breakfast first as your husband continued hiding the eggs.)

seishiro makes his way back to the living room, carefully climbing the marbled stairs with his short chubby legs while singing some gibberish cartoon theme and holding his father's hand. he lets go of the taller man's hand and runs straight towards the balcony as soon as he steps on the last case, tiptoeing to pull the glass door's lock down and sliding it to the right with his brute strength.

as the child snickers and runs outside, you and your husband look at each other with your mouths agape. you’re quite sure you were both thinking about the same thing. 'since when could our baby do that?' and 'do we have to toddler-proof the balcony?’

your balcony is a wide, L-shaped deck with 20-inch-tall glass balustrades on the edges covered with bushes of hydrangea and an L-shaped white outdoor couch positioned on the intersection. in front of the sofa was a matching 1.5-million-yen white boca de lobo lapiaz oval center table containing the hidden chocolate egg you hid with satoru earlier.

adjacent to the couch and to the side of the wall was a small infinity pool where the three of you occasionally swim, and an outdoor rattan lying bed your family rests in after a fun pool day.

you watch your baby whip his head all around his surroundings, platinum eyebrows adorably scrunched up as he walks towards the shrubs and crouches down to inspect them. you and satoru keep your distance from him, but still heavily on guard in case the toddler suddenly loses his balance and falls face down (you know the glass railings are more than sturdy and won’t shatter if that happens, but you’re both highly paranoid and unreasonable when it comes to seishiro’s safety).

“aw yew hiw, eggies?” you hear the toddler murmur while combing through the bushes, before he gets momentarily distracted by the fully bloomed pink hydrangea that came into his view.

your baby seemed to be deep in thought as he inspected the flower carefully, even putting his basket down at his side and muttering something to himself quietly. satoru asked his dumpling if he found hydrangea pretty, but seishiro was too immersed in touching the pink flower to even hear his father.

the toddler finally nods with resolution before using his two little hands to pluck the blossom and place it alongside his easter eggs. he looks at the both of you afterwards, standing up (but not before kissing the plant and apologizing to it) and running towards you while carrying his little basket.

your baby stands in front of you shyly, fiddling with the coral flower resting on the eggs as if he's hesitant to say something.

and you absolutely can't have that—seishiro thinking that he should not (or could not) voice out his concerns to his parents is a no-no.

so you and satoru automatically crouch down to his eye level, the white-haired sorcerer even lifting the child up to sit on his thigh.

"what's wrong, dumpling? hmm?" your husband asks while attempting to make eye contact with the boy. you, on the other hand, card your hand through your child’s locks on his forehead to keep his silky hair from blocking his eyes.

seishiro just snickers and sticks his tongue out at his father (who exaggeratingly gasped), before turning to you and meekly offering you the fully bloomed pink hydrangea. "pwetty fyowew fow pwetty mama!" he cheerfully declares as he stands up and presses a wet kiss full of adoration from his little heart on your cheek.

"ow ow ow ow dumpling, dada's hair! dada's hair!!"

your husband's dramatic cries were overpowered by your toddler's angelic laugh as he sat on his father's nape, pulling the older man's thick platinum hair to control wherever he wanted to go.

you continue taking pictures of their moment, zooming in fondly at your phone to look at the perfectly candid photograph of your baby boy gripping his father's hair with his eyes scrunched closed and mouth formed into a wide smile. said father below him had the same expression, although his face was contorted into something that looked awfully akin to pain (maybe he wasn't being dramatic after all).

seishiro is now on his second to the last egg, scouting the top of the kitchen shelves after finding three hidden at the top of his playroom cabinets. he probably got tired asking his older carbon copy "dada, can you wift seishi?" every time he thinks he spots something small oval-shaped object, so he asked to just sit on the back of his father's head the moment the three of you left the room.

“sowwy, dada.” the boy rubs satoru’s head with his chubby little hands and presses his lips onto the thick tufts of white hair. he then gives the chocolate egg he grabbed from one of the cupboards to his father who was currently holding the now tiny basket in his left hand.

just when your baby was about to go back to pulling his father's hair to maneuver out of the kitchen and look for the last egg, the sound of paper rustling immediately reached his ears. he looked down and saw his own father unwrapping the egg the boy had just given.

satoru was about to put the treat in his mouth when a pair of small soft hands suddenly covered his open mouth and a cheeky giggle was released, prompting your husband to look up and attempt to speak through a muffled voice.

“dada… can’t eat seishi’s eggies… untiw we find… ow eggies!” your baby eloquently says, astonishing both you and your husband (most especially your husband, who didn’t even notice that seishiro had already grabbed the treat from his fingers and handed it to you instead).

satoru then suddenly lifts seishiro off his nape and sits him on the countertop while you slowly walk towards them.

"since when could you speak so well, huh, dumpling? since when?" your husband starts attacking the boy with neck kisses, making seishiro laugh and squirm around while struggling to answer his father. you join in satoru’s kiss assault, blowing raspberry on your toddler's belly and wish for your precious baby to never grow up.

happy super late easter!!(?) hehe

navi

[angelbaby-fics]

hi chloe!! been a while since i stopped by your asks. if this is possible, may i please request a birthday themed fic? you can decide all you want it can be angsty or fluffy!! I requested this since my birthday is gonna be on monday!! thank u and have a great day <3 💕💕💙

Birthday Cake

bWord Count: 900

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x Little!Reader

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MONIQUE!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🥳💕🎁🎉🎈 i'm sorry this is a little late but I hope you like it & I hope you had a really amazing birthday!!! 💕

Steve woke up the morning of your birthday, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he turned to look at you, still fast asleep and curled into his side. He always woke up before you and Bucky, loving to get an early breakfast and a run before he started his day. On this special day, however, his run would have to be cut a little short as he still had a few birthday themed errands to run before you woke up.

You stirred slightly as Steve peeled your arm away from his torso, murmuring in your sleep at the loss of his warmth. He paused for a moment, holding his breath until you turned yourself around and repositioned yourself as Bucky’s little spoon. Steve made sure you were tucked back into the comforter before he quietly grabbed some clothes from the closet and stepped out of the room.

He ran until the sun was just barely peeking over the horizon. Knowing you and Bucky would still be asleep for likely a few more hours, Steve came home to take a quick shower before heading out again. He drove downtown to the bakery where he’d placed an order for your custom birthday cake a couple weeks, or so he’d thought. You see, Steve still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of technology, and while he thought he’d placed the order successfully, he’d actually closed the window before the order went through. He didn’t realize this, however, until he walked into the bakery as soon as they opened and asked if they had an order for “Rogers, Steve”.

“I’m sorry sir, we don’t have anything under that name. Is it possible you used a different name?” The employee behind the counter asked. “Uhh maybe Barnes, James? Or Stark, Tony?” Steve replied, wondering if maybe he’d gotten his credit cards confused. “I’m sorry, we don’t have any of those names here, either. Do you have the confirmation email we sent you when you placed the order?” Steve sighed and scratched his head.

“Let me see…” He said, slightly exasperated as he opened his email app and scrolled through hundreds of unread messages to the day he placed the order and beyond, not finding any sort of email from the bakery. “It’s not here.” He replied, finally.

“Okay, then that means that the order didn’t go through so we do not have your cake ready, however your card has not been charged for anything.” “What do I do then?” Steve asked. “Well you could place the order now, but it won’t be ready for at least a week.” Steve sighed. He couldn’t believe his mistake. You hadn’t even woken up yet and already your birthday was ruined! He knew how excited you were fr cake, you always had such a sweet tooth and he was so looking forward to spoiling you with the perfect cake for your special day.

“Is there anything you can do in two hours?” He pleaded with the employee.

“Well, we have some pre-made cakes, they just won’t be decorated yet. But I can send you home with some decorating supplies if you’d like to do it yourself?” The employee replied, genuinely feeling bad for Steve, who contemplated for a moment before deciding that between this, a cake he made himself at home, or no cake at all, this was clearly the best choice.

“Thank you SO so much!” Steve answered, making sure to tip extra as the employee handed him a blank cake in your favorite flavor, and a bag of decorating supplies.

When he got home, he opened the cake box staring at the blank cake for what felt like a century before his attention was drawn to Bucky, who’d quietly and carefully gotten out of your grip as well and decided to help Steve set everything up before you woke up. He’d only been awake for a minute but he could already tell by Steve’s expression that something was wrong.

“What did you do?” Bucky asked with a smirk.

“You know that incredible custom cake I ordered? Well turns out I didn’t.” Bucky laughed, but Steve wasn’t smiling.

“It's not funny! Her birthday is ruined!” “No it isn’t, honey.” Bucky reassured him. “You tried your best and that’s what matters.” “But she won’t have a cake!”

“Sure she will, we’ll just have to decorate it ourselves. And if that’s not enough, we’ll just take her out for ice cream sundaes.”

“When are we goin???” You asked from the kitchen doorway, surprising them both.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HONEY!” Bucky cheered, while Steve stood there looking worried. “Hey bug,” He started as you crept over to him & climbed up into his arms. “I’m so sorry, but we didn’t get –” “YOU GOT A CAKE WE CAN DECORATE TOGETHER!!!” You squealed excitedly. “Can we put kitties on it?” “You- yeah, of course!” Steve stuttered for a moment before realizing that he’d really had nothing to worry about, there was no way he could ruin your birthday as long as he was in your life.

“And then after we eat cake for breakfast we can go get ice cream sundaes, right Baba?” You asked, turning to Bucky with a mischievous grin.

“Well now, I don’t know if I said that-” He started, but Steve cut him off.

“Of course baby. We can do whatever you want, it's your birthday!” He said, and the two of them smothered you with kisses as you dissolved into laughter.

Taglist: @babybatdani @cherryynoir @chiyongberry @simpingbutch @xxxqueenlaufeysonxxxxo @mogaruke @flthyhrts @swfpugh @mariefischer @stuckysgirl27 @stevebuckyplzfuckme @leialittleone @midnight-dreams-23 @mischiefsemimanaged @0witchtrials0 @my-river-lilly @erynnnn @axhilles4time 💕💕💕

[beyondspaceandstars]

Coffee & Meetings

Relationship: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Innocent!Reader Warnings: stalking, drugging TW, manipulation, Summary: Prequel to Pastries & Memories - Bucky sees you day after day at a bakery and decides you’re just perfect for him. All from Bucky’s POV. A/N: someone suggested this on ao3 and i really liked that idea so I hope i did it well! I am thinking about expanding this to a bit of a mini-series... :)

Masterlist

Six months earlier…

He first saw you on a Monday. A bright, sunny, lovely Monday morning. He hadn’t even been looking for you — hell, he hadn’t really been looking for anyone.

Bucky was planted at a little table in the corner of a coffee shop, sipping on a dark roast, watching people come and go on the sidewalk. It had become his new morning routine, an interesting yet annoying suggestion from his therapist. She had become concerned he was too into his previous routine. She wanted him to step out of it for a bit, expand horizons, maybe even find a hobby. The craziest thing he had done yet was this — drinking overpriced coffee at a local shop.

He had to admit, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Sometimes he looked forward to this new start to his day. Everyone at the shop was always nice to him, amazingly. They didn’t mind him dilly-dallying, nursing his coffee, as he people watched. They even had a bakery attached which was part of the attraction to the place for Bucky. He had smelled their pastries one morning and was hooked.

As Bucky sat watching the people, he was contemplating getting an almond croissant to go when something caught his attention. From the corner of his eye, like a little flash, he had seen someone that made him perk up.

It was her. It was you. You were standing in front of the bakery entrance debating on going in. You looked between the coffee and the bakery sign. You checked your phone then you walked in. Bucky watched as you entered the bakery, your face bright with the kindest smile he had ever seen as you greeted the cashier. He didn’t have to hear your voice to know it was contagiously joyous.

You were like a little tease standing around all those baked goods, flicking your hair over your shoulder as you pointed at which donut you wanted. Bucky suddenly felt hungry for something else. Especially when you bent over to point at the strawberry glaze on the bottom row.

But then you were gone as fast as you had come. He watched you from the window as you got back on the path to wherever you were headed, he guessed your job. Your hair blew in the wind. Your skirt bounced as you walked proudly, your hand grasping the box of donuts tightly.

Oh, yeah, Bucky thought, this new routine was definitely what he needed.

***

You quickly became the most exciting part of Bucky’s day.

With his cup of coffee and hawk-like gaze, he’d sit at the little coffee shop table, watching the world outside the window. You’d come strolling by fairly early, looking so classy and professional. He figured you worked in an office which seemed very unnecessary for a girl like you. You didn’t need to work, he decided. You were too beautiful, clearly too bright, for that.

But you never seemed to recognize this yourself since you were constantly strutting past in your blouse and skirt, stopping in every day to collect some new pastry for your coworkers.

The way you talked to the bakery staff was what really won Bucky over. You were so gentle and patient when the kid behind the counter fumbled with the boxes or accidentally grabbed the wrong item. You’d still shoot them your lovely smile and make light conversation as they rang you up.

You were too generous, especially noted by the strawberry cake you had purchased one more for your work. Whoever was on the other end of your kindness better appreciate it, Bucky thought. He also didn’t miss your obvious love for strawberries.

Bucky watched you for a while, almost for two whole months, in that coffee shop seat drinking in every inch of you. The baristas didn’t seem to mind his lingering. He always made sure to order two cups as some sort of compensation for letting him sit there and watch his girl. Yes — his girl, that was what he had marked you as in his mind. You hadn’t noticed him yet but Bucky wasn’t sweating it. All in due time, he silently promised you.

It took Bucky a few days to gather what was needed. You still weren’t noticing him but he was way past being bothered by that. He had been screwed by life enough to know that sometimes you just have to take what you want. Sitting around waiting and hoping was for men who had patience. He was over it. Little worked out for him so now he had to make it work.

The morning of the commencement of the plan, Bucky stood in his kitchen double-checking the items needed. Content with it, he carefully drew up the correct amount of light sedation into the syringe. It wasn’t anything crazy and apparently affected the mind first, body second. You’d be on autopilot for a bit, walking more like someone who was just having a rough day. But that wouldn’t be an issue because Bucky would be there. He’d be able to escort you to his apartment, simply appearing as the concerned, protective boyfriend among the sidewalk pedestrians. He got a bit giddy just thinking about it.

Moments after you were properly sedated, he’d need to administer you another drug in a timely manner. This one would be focused on memory loss. He’d discovered it on some corner of the black market while originally on the look for types of sedation. Apparently, this drug was part of some sort of failed spy mission in Europe. The seller swore it boasted good results, citing studies conducted. Bucky looked into it and agreed. After some clumsy navigation in the world of online shopping, it was his within a few days. The concoction seemed like it would do that job.

The goal was to pretty much scramble your brain just a little bit. Nothing crazy like making you totally forget key components of yourself but still hit a point where you didn’t have enough to fight Bucky’s word on, well, anything. This drug wore off, though, so he would have to come up with ways to get it in your system over the course of your relationship. It was still worth it to him. He wasn’t stripping you off your personality, just some little details here and there. You’d still be his shining girl, just only now focused on him.

The final items laid out were various feet of rope. Bucky was being overly cautious with this. He didn’t know if anything actually was going to work. What if you woke up and realized you weren’t in your apartment? That you were being watched over by a stranger? You were bound to panic but he understood that. If need be, he could restrain you while he figured out the right way to go about it all. It would never be to hurt you, of course — in fact, he felt it was more for your safety than anything.

After another run of the mental checklist, Bucky gathered the syringe and headed out to the coffee shop. The idea was fairly simple. After you came in for a box of pastries, he’d head out behind you, try to chat you up a bit. He had some old moves he could flex. Once you got comfortable enough, he’d make the move and then lights out. By the end of that day, you’d be making yourself comfortable in his apartment.

Bucky practically fawned over the idea as he walked. He had taken some steps earlier in the week to add some things for you in the apartment like ladies’ toiletries and new outfits. He had even finally purchased a real couch. All for you, so you could have a home. A real home. With him.

Bucky was still lost in his daydream as he sat in the coffee shop, looking between the clock and the window. He waited and waited and waited. The syringe growing heavier and heavier in his pocket as the seconds went by.

The clock struck a new hour. Something Bucky never planned for was unfolding: it didn’t look like you were coming today. He almost about lost it there. Almost went into the streets stomping away in anger. Everything was perfect, how could you just be the only missing piece? Did something happen? Were you okay? Gosh, he should’ve got to you sooner—

Your hair suddenly came into view. You were walking furiously, just glancing at the bakery this time before deciding not to go in. You looked anxious which certainly wasn’t like you. He wanted to crush whatever was making you feel such a way. But Bucky had to snap his thoughts back. You weren’t coming into the bakery. He wouldn’t be able to follow you out, to casually build-up to this moment. His heart was pounding. He panicked.

In a moment of stupid impulsivity, Bucky quickly left the coffee shop and began racing to catch up to you. He took long strides, quite amazed by how fast you walked in those heels, but it didn’t take him very long to now be right on your tail. Few more steps and he was able to pop up right in front of you. You jumped at his sudden presence. Bucky smiled, finding you so amusing.

"Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but I think you dropped something." He lied through his teeth so gloriously, way too easily. It was just the right comment to get you to stop in your tracks but didn’t completely scare you off.

Your brows furrowed, adorably confused. You looked down, searching for whatever it could be. "I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think I did."

Sir. The word stuck with him a bit. Maybe after some coaxing, you could always be calling him that. Bucky didn’t have much time to think about this, though, as you began to step around him. You had taken his moment of silence as a way to evade him. Smart, but frustrating. A mix of annoyance and anger shot through him. He grabbed your arm and pulled you into him quickly. You let out a yelp in surprise. He ignored it and before you could ask any questions, the syringe was plunged into your neck. To outsiders, it looked like a couple in some weird embrace, but to Bucky, it was just the beginning of something beautiful.

He got you back to his apartment fairly easily after that. You were eventually out cold and the next step of the process could begin. He was pretty much banking on the memory loss solution. Not a very religious man, Bucky still said a silent prayer as he administered it.

He took a step back from his bed, watching you look so at home knocked out on it. It was a wonderful sight, one he was saving in the back of his mind, even though he’d now see it every single day. Feeling quite content with how smoothly that all had gone, he had nothing to do now but wait for you to wake up.

Bucky took this free time as a chance to begin cutting off connections you had. Thankfully, your bag held your laptop along with other necessities like your phone and wallet. He was pretty thankful he wouldn’t have to try to get into your work to grab your devices. That would rely too heavily on whether or not you overshared. No one would believe he was the concerned boyfriend if just last week you ranted about how single you were.

Sliding onto a stool at his kitchen counter, Bucky set up your laptop. The first thing he noticed was your lack of password. You were too trustful, too good, and that was only example A. Bucky suddenly felt so relieved he had you in the safety of his apartment. There were lunatics out there.

Bucky navigated your laptop fairly easily. While he was pretty new to the technology scene, he could at least find the basics and you weren’t exactly running some government-level device. With a few simple taps and clicks, he was writing out messages to your boss and family.

He put in your letter of resignation, something short and vague, to your boss at the public relations firm you were an assistant at. Lower level work, not even anywhere near the big dogs. No wonder you constantly brought in treats for everyone. You were hoping your kindness would get you ahead. Bucky shook his head at your naivety.

A simple Google search showed him you were not the only assistant to the head of the firm. You probably wouldn’t be missed. The pastries, maybe, but you? An assistant? Someone would take your place within the week. Bucky was turning out much better for you than he had realized. He mentally patted himself on the back as he moved onto looking into your family.

Scrolling through your email contacts, it appeared you only had a sister for immediate family. No mentions of parents and… sure enough, another search brought up an obituary for your mother. No mention of a father. Even better, he thought. You needed that strong, guiding force.

A few scrolls through your current email thread with your sister and Bucky found out she was studying abroad. Could this all get any better? Nothing was in the immediate area of a threat. He responded back to the last email your sister had sent. Copying your language the best he could, he dropped some hints that you wanted a vacation. In just a few more exchanges he could drop the news that you were off in paradise. Correspondence could easily fizzle out and your sister would be too caught up in her European dream to notice an absence.

If this ever called for any more attention, Bucky figured he could easily invite her over. It’d take some training but you’d eventually remember your sister — or, what Bucky would plant in your head about her — then you’d happily host a dinner. Introduce your two favorite people to one another. He bought himself enough time to spend with you.

Of course, Bucky realized he got very lucky with you. He had done some minimal research beforehand but everything had been behind sign-in walls. He didn’t know if he was really ready to break into social media and instead decided to risk it. If all had gone to shit, like you having a real big, caring family or a prestigious job, there wasn’t anything a little talking couldn’t fix.

But Bucky had also kind of already knew you as he watched you day in and day out. He had felt that dire need to be comforted, to be loved, to be cared for, to be protected behind those cheery smiles and generous small talk. You always tried too hard as if you needed everyone in the world to love you, to praise you. That wasn’t it at all. You just needed him. And he needed you.

Lost in his dreamy thoughts, Bucky nearly jumped out of his skin (leave it to you to be the first person to actually scared him) when your soft voice called from the bedroom doorway.

"Excuse me," You said, nervously fidgeting as you slowly walked from the hall into the kitchen. "W-What’s going on?"

Bucky shut your laptop quickly and hopped down from the stool. He gave you a warm smile which you seemed to try to return. So obedient and caring already and you didn’t even know why — yet.

"Hey, doll," he said, keeping his voice steady and gentle. "You okay? You laid down for a nap earlier. I was worried you were getting sick." He placed a hand on your forehead pretending to check your temperature. Thankfully, you allowed it. After a moment, he pulled his hand away with a curious hum.

You frowned, obviously confused, much more than you were earlier. You looked totally clueless at the situation. It was the best reaction Bucky could’ve ever hoped for.

You glanced around the living space. "I- Yeah, I think I’m alright… I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember much. Who are you?"

Bucky chuckled, "I’m your boyfriend. Bucky. And this is our apartment. You remember, don’t you, honey? Maybe you’re just still a bit sleepy."

He watched as you blinked a few times, probably wrestling with whether to admit you really didn’t remember anything or to go with the lie. If you were a good girl, like he predicted, you’d settle with the lie.

"Oh." You bit your lip and eventually nodded. Jackpot. "Of course. Again, I’m sorry. I must’ve been really tired." You glanced over at the clock. It read just before noon. "I’m a bit hungry. Would you like anything, B-Bucky?"

He smiled. "A sandwich would be great, doll."

You nodded once in acknowledgment then began hunting for everything you needed in the kitchen. You looked a bit confused at first but slowly Bucky saw you get the hang of it. He took his place at the kitchen counter again, sliding the laptop out of your sight.

He sat there waiting and observing as his new girl began making him lunch. It was a sight he had dreamed of, but Bucky also knew this was too perfect too soon. You were bound to stumble within time but that was okay. He would have to fine-tune the details later but he was already complying some ideas on how to shape you into who you were destined to be.

Yes, he had a long way to go, but it would all be worth it if he got to come home to you standing in his kitchen whipping up a special treat like the sweetest housewife to ever exist. Because that certainly would be the next step down the line — making you his darling wife.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s S2 R&S - Fireworks into the Heart

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from an R&S (烟花入心) which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Features S2 Gavin. References are made to S2 Ch 16

[ Chapter One ]

“Wang Xiao Cui, you’ve been employed by the STF’s Logistics Department. Report to the cafeteria at 8am tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’ve been hired to work in the STF cafeteria. 

As a nutritionist with over thirty years of experience, joining the STF isn’t a problem for me.

My old companion isn’t able to understand why I’m not using my years of retirement to enjoy life. Without giving him a response, I simply smoothen the small creases on my STF uniform carefully.

As an ordinary person, the STF always had a mysterious and prestigious impression in my eyes. Agents who are able to work here are all heroes with indomitable spirits.

Being able to take care of their meals and enable them to get more nutrition every day to strengthen their bodies and better protect Loveland City gives me a sense of honour in protecting this city too.

Based on my experience, taking care of a group of young people is a piece of cake. However, I didn’t expect to make the mistake of underestimating this place.

-

Standing in front of the cafeteria’s bleak signboard at 7.30am, I witness several agents carrying Tianjin-style deep-friend dough sticks through the doors. Someone even carries several bags of fried beef buns. While walking, he speaks in a loud voice:

"I braved the risk of running laps to bring you guys fried buns again!”

“During training later, no one’s allowed to snatch that new gun from me.”

The other agents let out a “tsk”, taking the fried buns and chilli paste from him before dividing them amongst themselves.

Fresh out of the oven, hot steam rises from the buns in the cafeteria, and nobody bats an eye. The master who steamed the buns has already grown accustomed to this. They stand in groups of twos and threes, engaging in idle chatter.

Why doesn’t anyone in the STF like eating food from the cafeteria?

Unable to figure out an answer after much thought, I happen to spot a handsome lad dressed in a white uniform. His steps are steady, and he brings along a breeze when he walks. I immediately call out to him.

“Hey! Young lad, wait.”

The handsome lad stops in his footsteps, giving me a sweeping glance out of the corner of his eye.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“No no, I'm the new nutritionist in the cafeteria. I just wanted to ask you something. Why don’t the STF agents love to eat cafeteria food? From what I can see, the Nourishing Meal has meat and vegetables, and it’s pretty rich in nutrition.”

The handsome lad is silent for a moment before responding to my question.

“The healthy meals place too much focus on health, and they don’t taste any better than the small stalls outside.”

“Captain Gavin, the materials from yesterday’s case have been tidied up.”

“Mm, I’ll have a look at them.”

The handsome lad who was addressed as “Captain Gavin” sees that I have no further questions. Giving me a nod, he takes large strides towards the office.

With a frown, I take a bite out of a celery meat bun. Aside from the taste being slightly bland, I don’t find anything wrong with it. Furthermore, adding too much salt would reduce its nutritional value, so it’s a given that less salt would be added to it.

However, since this point was brought up, it means there’s room for improvement.

In order to prepare food that better suits the palate of STF, I spend a whole week lying low and observing the favourite eateries that the STF agents enjoy eating most, and try out all of their famous dishes.

Based on their palate, I meticulously prepare a modified version of trial dishes.

On the first day of introducing the trial dishes, I brim with enthusiasm while bringing out a “New Dishes to Try” signboard, thinking that this would raise the reputation of the STF’s cafeteria. However, even after half a day, the only things that enter are mosquitoes which I swat to death.

There’s a cold breeze at the entrance. I look at the clock hanging on the wall of the cafeteria - lunchtime is almost over.

Deciding not to wait any longer, I head outside, planning to grab a few people in to try the dishes.

The moment I step outside, my eyes brighten when I see that lad from before.

His footsteps are hurried, and he has a packet of instant noodles in his hand. He probably has to deal with some urgent matters, which is why he has to make do with that for lunch.

How is that good? An STF agent eating instant noodles? Where would I, a nutritionist, hide my pride? I hurriedly stop him.

“Young lad, there are new dishes in the cafeteria. Since you’re about to eat, why don’t you try the cafeteria? It’d be a quick meal.”

He pauses in his footsteps for a slight moment, his refusal ready. However, when he sees the menu behind me, he suddenly blinks, then looks up to give me a nod.

“I’ll have to trouble you then.”

With this, he walks into the cafeteria. I look at the menu. There’s only a simple line written on it - “Today’s Special: Chicken with Chilli”.

Does he like eating chicken with chilli?

[Note] To be precise, this dish is called 辣子鸡 (là zǐ jī). It’s a a stir-fried dish consisting of marinated then deep-fried pieces of chicken, dried Sichuan chilli peppers, spicy bean paste, Sichuan peppers, garlic, and ginger.

[ Chapter Two ]

The young man eats quickly and seriously. Ignoring the fact that that he’s eating at an unhealthy pace, I feel very relieved. When he walks over to return the tray, I ask him a question.

“You’re done, young lad? How’s the taste? Do you think there’s anything to improve on?”

The young man sets the tray down. After a moment of serious contemplation, he give his response.

“The taste isn’t bad. If you’re asking for suggestions, since it’s chicken with chilli, you could add a little more chilli.”

I record his suggestions in my notebook earnestly. At the same time, I’m secretly amazed at how members of the STF are truly talented individuals. I created this chicken with chilli dish based on the spice levels in Sichuan cuisine, but he still didn’t find it spicy enough.

Look like there’s much room for improvement in future dishes.

-

The next day, I continue with my plan to introduce trial dishes. However, most of the STF agents are already used to eating out. The ones who try the dishes are few and far between. Just as lunchtime is about to end, a familiar figure once again appears at the door of the cafeteria.

He’s the young man who ate the chicken with chilli yesterday.

He walks straight in, taking a tray and getting food. Although he doesn’t say anything, I feel very moved, and wonder if this kid dropped by specially to support the canteen’s business.

I inform him that red braised pork is being served today, accompanied with bitter gourd and scrambled eggs. He seems a little hesitant when he sees the bitter gourd. But in the end, he doesn’t say anything, finding a place to sit down and eat.

-

Over the next two weeks, it seems that as long as he isn’t out on missions or doing anything else, that young man would come to the cafeteria.

It appears that he’s a Captain or something. With his impetus, more and more people gradually eat in the cafeteria, and I have a better understanding of his reticent young man.

His name is Gavin, and he’s the Captain of the Special Ops Team. I heard that the Special Ops team is the hardest squad to get into within the STF. They are one of the very best in terms of resolved cases. Everyone in the team are the cream of the crop, much less the Captain.

I heard about how this Captain usually rushes to the most forefront when faced with any danger, which is why he receives much adoration from the team. Of course, the number of injuries and stack of silk banners in the storeroom are proportional to each other.

On the days when he isn’t around, there’s a high chance that he’s out on a mission, or having his injuries treated in the infirmary.

-

“Aunt Wang, give me the same chicken with chilli as Captain Gavin!”

A red-haired agent’s voice pulls me back to reality. He carries a tray, pointing at the chicken with chilli from across the glass. I give him a huge scoop of it. He carries the tray and sits at a row of tables close to the window. There are quite a number of people donning the same uniform, and Gavin is one of them.

“Captain Gavin, why have you fled from our braised beef noodles alliance? You’ve also stopped eating cup noodles with us when we work overtime.”

“Mm, this is something you’re unaware of. Our Captain Gavin has someone who cares for him.”

"Last time, that Miss Producer was filming something and gave us handmade biscuits. You were on leave so you didn’t know about this. Captain Gavin’s biscuits were several times more exquisite than ours. They were even heart-shaped.”

The agents wink at each other and chatter on incessantly. Gavin, the main topic of the conversation, continues eating calmly. When he finally feels slightly annoyed by the clamour, he puts down his chopsticks, glancing at the red-haired agent.

“Tang Chao, it seems that your stamina is getting better with your daily laps.”

“You’ll be my partner for the next mission.”

The red-haired agent immediately pulls a long face.

“Captain Gavin, it's not that I don’t want to be your partner. But based on my fighting skills, I’ll only be a burden to you.”

“I’ll continue shining as a support personnel, and be an emotionless lie detector for the Special Ops Team!”

Gavin ignores the red-haired officer whose name is Tang Chao. But when he lowers his head to drink the soup, I can see his slightly arched brows.

Over the past two weeks, I’ve always been seeing his composed and chilly side, and even thought that was his personality. It turns that he’s still a young man. It’s just that he hides that unrestrained aura that young people have, and doesn’t display it easily.

Perhaps that’s the fetter of being a Captain.

Looking at these young people, I suddenly feel as though I’ve found the reason why my trial dishes have not been successful.

It’s probably because I’ve never tried to truly understand this group of young people.

[ Chapter Three ]

I’m no longer stubborn when it comes to the dishes. Instead, I pay more attention to observing the dietary habits of this group of young people. Gradually, many more pages on the notebook which I use to record modified recipes are written on.

Everything goes smoothly. However, I notice that Gavin hasn’t visited the cafeteria for meals in a long while.

When the red-haired officer comes to collect his food, I scoop pork ribs and winter melon soup for him, and find myself asking him a question.

“Why hasn’t your Captain been coming down to eat in the cafeteria these days?”

He scratches his head, his tone less carefree as before.

“Captain Gavin’s injuries from this mission were a little more serious, so he’s still getting treated in the hospital.”

Before coming to the STF, the word “injuries” was associated with a sliced finger from cutting vegetables, or being scratched while playing with a cat. But after coming to the STF, I realised that there are many other ways people can get hurt.

The STF has doctors who understand Evolvers most in the whole of Loveland City. Logically speaking, even if it’s a fracture or external bleeding, patients can typically be discharged in a week.

That young man called Gavin hasn’t appeared in such a long time. Is he severely injured?

Even though we haven’t exchanged many words, I can’t help but worry about that young man.

He’s still so young. If anything were to happen to him, how worried would his family members be?

Perhaps due to the fact that he was the first agent willing to try food from the cafeteria, I find myself being more concerned about him, and wanting to know more about him. However, STF agents are disciplined and strict. When they’re eating in the cafeteria, they rarely mention Gavin. When he’s occasionally brought up, they say things that I’m unable to understand.

“She went to the hospital again today.”

“That’s fine. Her presence at the hospital is much more useful than a few of us going. At least Captain Gavin would smile a little when he sees her. When we’re there, we’re like stalks of grain, and can do nothing but watch helplessly.”

“The next time the ‘Snake’ bites, we can’t let Captain Gavin hold the fort again.”

In the fog of their conversation, I’m unable to understand anything. I’m getting old, and my ears aren’t as useful. I shake my head, turning around and heading back into the kitchen.

-

Just when I think Gavin’s injuries have rendered him unable to return to the team, he appears.

While I’m writing the lunch menu on the whiteboard, I spot Gavin and his squad mates walking in together. He has become much thinner, and looks very pale. Even so, his entire frame remains as solemn as always, a sense of sharpness emanating from him.

When I hand him braised beef noodles, he gives me a nod.

“Thanks.”

He picks up the chopsticks and eats the noodles. When he sees the slices of beef in the bowl, he’s slightly stunned. However, he returns to normal in an instant, continuing to eat as usual.

When they’re halfway through eating, the communication device at Gavin’s waist suddenly beeps. He presses the communication device, his expression changing when he hears the message.

“The ‘Snake’ has left the hole. Take action.”

With his command, everyone abandon their meal and hurriedly leave the cafeteria.

When Gavin passes by me, I can see traces of blood on the side of his sleeve.

It appears that he’s leaving for a mission before his wounds have completely healed.

The cafeteria lapses into silence. I tidy the table, looking at the beef noodles which only had a few bites taken out of it, and let out a heavy sigh.

I know how difficult it is to join the STF. People who join the STF are so incredible. But I still wish to know what kind of reasons would make such a young person charge forward and risk his life to the point where he can’t even have a proper meal.

[ Chapter Four ]

It’s very late at night, but the STF remains brightly lit.

Similar to the busy agents, I haven’t left either.

After this period of research and testing dishes, I discovered that the people here aren’t picky. They simply lack the time to sit down and eat slowly.

With this in mind, I restart the dish modifications.

The television in the cafeteria is currently showing the Loveland News. The host is reporting on something about “Evol Assassination Incidents”, and is criticising how the STF hasn’t been doing anything about them.

“Things here are turning upside down from how busy they are, and the infirmary is filled with people. And you claim that they aren’t doing anything? Reporters are so irresponsible these days.”

I shake my head, switching the television off. After calling a few colleagues over, we carry supper to the infirmary.

Due to the incident the news was reporting about, the STF has been in a mess recently. I heard that there aren’t enough beds in the infirmary for use.

My heart aches from how these kids are getting criticised even after getting injured. I’ve prepared sweet soup suitable for evening consumption, bringing them to the infirmary while they get treated.

While passing by the Captain’s office, I notice that the door isn’t closed, and I see someone standing inside.

It’s Gavin.

His side is facing the door, his hair is messy, and he’s leaning against the wall. One of his legs is lifted up, and he’s currently pursing his lips as he removes his combat gloves.

He appears to have lacked sleep for several days, and quiet fatigue emanates from his entire frame.

However, he doesn’t seem to have shown this side of him to anyone outside, demanding himself to only leave this version of himself to an empty office in the depths of night.

I knock on the door. The moment he hears this, he quickly straightens up, his sharp gaze sweeping over. When he sees that it’s me, his amber eyes are stunned, and he nods.

“Please come in.”

Walking in, I place a bowl of snow fungus soup on his table.

“Everyone has been working hard in the bureau lately. We decided to make some sweet soup for all of you to relieve the fatigue. Drink this soup while it’s hot. There’s Chinese wolf berry and longan in it, so it’s pretty nourishing.”

Gavin nods. Stray hairs stick messily against the sides of his eyes and brows. I’m guessing that since he’s a kid who usually puts up a strong front, he probably doesn’t like others seeing his sorry state. I hurriedly wave my hands to signal that I’m leaving.

Before I walk out of the door, Gavin suddenly asks me a question.

“Aunt Wang, is your cafeteria recipe modification going smoothly?”

I can hardly believe that he actually remembered such a trivial matter.

Just how many things does he concern himself with?

“Very smoothly. I’ve been looking into a new fast-food style beef noodles, and plan to introduce it to the bureau.”

“Fast-food beef noodles?”

“Mm. There used to be very few people in the cafeteria because I only paid attention to maintaining the nutritional value of dishes. But if people don’t even have the time to eat, how can I talk about nutrition?”

“Right now, I’m looking into preparing beef noodles that are both nutritious and can be eaten really quickly. Such noodles are more diverse in flavour, and the nutritional value is easy to maintain.”

After saying all of this, I follow up with a question.

“But I'm still considering whether to use bean sprouts or eggs as a substitute. Which do you prefer?”

Perhaps few people have asked him something as trivial as his dietary preferences. He gives this very serious thought before providing a careful answer.

“I’d prefer eggs.”

I nod, then find myself giving him my sincere and earnest wishes.

“No matter how busy work is, you need to have proper meals. Even though rice and vegetables seem simple, they are part of life.”

“Whenever you head forward so urgently, have you ever thought of whether you might be forcing yourself too much?”

When Gavin hears this, he’s taken back. I don’t continue. With a sigh, I turn around and leave.

[ Chapter Five ]

The new fast-food beef noodles introduced in the canteen received a huge welcome amongst the agents. It became the favourite supper of agents who worked overtime on cases. Given the positive responses, I also released different flavoured fast-food products. 

With this signature dish, the STF canteen finally became lively every day.

But the strange things is, I didn’t see Gavin for a very long time. I heard that he... temporarily relieved himself of his duties.

I have no idea what happened, but I trust that he had his reasons, and I silently hope that the kid can be safe.

Afterwards, a strange fog enveloped Loveland City. I was protected by STF agents, and later heard that Gavin was the one who retrieved the fog.

-

I’m just about to prepare dinner in the cafeteria when I hear the news that Gavin’s in the hospital. News related to the STF’s retrieval of the fog is being broadcasted, and Gavin’s powerful and resounding voice can be heard.

“This round of the Hunter Game is over.”

I lift my head to see that familiar figure on the television, determined and composed.

“Thank you all for protecting the dignity of this city.”

When he had meals in the cafeteria before, I often wondered how this taciturn young man could persevere on his own, shouldering high pressure that ordinary people find difficult, and also protect tens of thousands of ordinary people.

Right now, I understand.

It’s because he has a heart of justice that’s gentler and more unwavering than anyone else - 

And this heart has guided him onto a path destined to be rugged, where he will pursue justice with no second thoughts.

But I’m still a little puzzled. Doesn’t he find it lonely when walking down this path?

With the assistance of the red-haired agent, I carry chicken wonton soup to Gavin’s hospital ward.

The door is closed, and I can hear an indistinct voice of a girl drifting from the inside.

From across the glass, I see a girl sitting at the bedside, a pink bento box on the table.

The girl is resting a hand against her cheek while supervising Gavin as he eats the bento. Meanwhile, the young man sitting on the bed is eating it one mouthful at a time, earnestly and tenderly.

For some reason, I find myself grinning.

On this path filled with ups and downs, someone is willing to accompany him, wait for him, sit down together with him, and have a serious, proper meal with him.

I leave the hospital with the thermos box.

Being here for so many days, I’ve grown used to this place, grown used to the whistle at 6.30am in the morning, grown used to the agents finishing their meals within ten minutes and rushing off, and grown used to the lights in STF illuminating my path like starlight when I’m heading home at night.

My old companion often asks why an oldie like me continues going to the STF. 

It’s because I can see a broader world here. I can see souls with determined spirits. I’ve never felt more alive and fulfilled in my entire lifetime.

This is the meaning that STF gives me.

I hope that the young man called Gavin, as well as the countless young people who are like Gavin, will always lead a fulfilling life.

...and that they may always be safe.

May he, along with the girl he watches silently, return to life through every meal while embracing justice.

💙 More S2 content: here

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[myboiparkerimagines]

4:28 - Tony Stark x Reader

Prompt: 19 and 34 with Tony Stark

34: “You come to my room and wake me up at 4 am, to cuddle?” 19:  “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me”

Your heart was beating out of your chest. You picked up your phone to check the time - 4:28. It was clear you would be getting no more sleep tonight. You sat up, contemplating your options. You could wake up Tony and spend a few more hours with him before the mission or try to fall asleep. 

You made up your mind pretty quickly.

His room was only three doors down but you often found it hard to go there at night. He told you that you were always welcome, but you still wanted to respect him and allow him his sleep. Sleep came so rarely for him and you always did your best not to disturb him. But, tonight was different. 

You rapped on his door three times, before he answered. “Can I come in?” you whispered.  “Yes.”

His room was mostly dark, only illuminated by a small desk lamp and the floor lights installed under his bed. His skin glowed faintly, reflecting the soft rays. “What do you want?” he asks, jokingly crossing his arms.  “Well, I don’t think I’ll be getting any sleep tonight so I thought I’d come in here and spend some time with you,” you smiled, crawling into bed beside him.  “Oh, really?” he asked, before you wrapped your arms around him, cuddling into him. “You come to my room and wake me up at 4 am, to cuddle?” “Yes I did,” you respond. He sighs, wrapping his arms around you. “You and I have very different ideas of what’s supposed to happen at 4 am.” “Ha ha,” you mock, before looking up at him and busting into actual giggles. 

“Why are you really here?” “I’m worried about tomorrow.” “You’re going to be in and out in five minutes flat. I promise you’ll be fine. There’s really nothing to worry about.” “I’m not worried about me, Tony. I’m worried about you,” you say, pushing yourself up to look at him. “I’m always worried about you.”  “Hey, I’m gonna be fine. You don’t have to worry about me,” he says, wrapping both arms around you.  “I do though. You mean everything to me.”  “Trust me, I know how you feel. I’m always worried that whoever’s after me will go through you. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with.” “I think that’s an exaggeration.”  “Trust me, it isn’t.” He pauses, choosing his words carefully.  “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me.” 

You heart flutters in your chest. “I love you, Tony.” While the words had never been spoken aloud by the two of you, you had been aware of them for a while now. You portrayed your love through action, but tonight everything was spelled out. The word ‘love’ was able to do funny things to your heart. 

Tony pulled you closer to him, kissing you on the forehead. “Get some sleep, and I’ll try to, as well. Everything will be fine tomorrow.” “I know it will. Just be careful.”  “I’m always careful.”

F.R.I.D.A.Y. woke you up only 3 hours later. “Good morning, boss. The plane leaves in thirty minutes.” That was your cue to leave. You got ready quickly, meeting the rest of the team on the roof to board the aircraft. Today’s mission would be much more difficult than usual. You were only ever called in as backup as Tony hated the idea of you actually on the ground. With telekinesis you could often complete the mission from base, but this time was different. You needed to be close to control them. They were different, stronger, than anything you’d fought before.  “It’s gonna be okay,” Tony said as you loaded into the carrier. “I promise,” he said before gently kissing your forehead. 

You claimed the copilot’s seat, which was reserved only for you. Tony sat in the pilot’s seat, effortlessly navigating the jet until it was safe to go into autopilot. Upon doing so, he reached and grabbed your hand, squeezing it gently. “We’ll be there in ten. You better suit up.” Tony stood. “And that goes for all of you, not just the sexy one in the front.” 

Cap dropped in first, scanning the primary defenses. Nat, Clint, and Thor went next, with Bruce dropping shortly after. Last were you and Tony - set to go straight into the threshold and disable from within. That was mainly your job, but Tony would never let you go without backup. Like he said, you would be in and out within five minutes. A piece of cake, really. 

“What are we dealing with?” Tony asked as you scanned the area.  “I’m not sure. I think it’s a hive mind. No wonder I had trouble reading it before. It’s incredibly strong, but interconnected.”  “So they’re out there fighting-” “Aliens,” you finished for him. “They’re fighting a system of interconnected aliens.”  “Beautiful. Go ahead and shut ‘em down.”  “Okay, but once they feel me in their mind, they’re going to attack. Every single one of them is going to come straight to us.” 

“Well, then, I guess we better be fast,” Tony said, closing his helmet. “Alright team, you all need to make your way back to us. And you better beat the aliens.”  “Aliens?” Nat asked.  “What do you mean, ‘aliens’?” Cap added.  “Alright, go ahead,” Tony said, giving you the all clear.

Your middle and pointer finger on your left hand connected to your temple, while you placed your right hand onto the ground, sinking your energy into the core. It was tiring and painful, and it’s affects were deadly. You were only ever called on scene to capture or kill, and both took a hefty physical and mental toll on you. When your waves connected to the hive, you could feel its pain. It crept into you the way your powers crept into it. The pain and anger boiled in you, ripping a scream from your throat. You could hear commotion surrounding you, but it was blurry and undecipherable. Every ounce of strength you had surged out of you, until, finally, it was calm. 

You collapsed onto the cool ground, aching for sleep, but your mind stayed conscious - slowly allowing your surroundings to sharpen.  “Come on, you’ll be okay,” you heard Nat say in the distance.  “We need a med team to our current location. Quickly,” Steve added. 

For who?

You tried to sit up, but your vision blurred and mind ached. “You just need to rest,” Clint said, clearly to you this time.  “Who’s hurt?” you ask, squeezing your eyes shut in order to numb the incessant throbbing.   “Everyone’s fine. You just need to rest now. We’re getting out of here soon.” 

You opened your eyes quickly, fighting off the pain that was building in your head. At the other side of the room, Tony sat against the wall with something metal lodged in the right side of his stomach. “Tony,” you called out weakly.  “Hey, sweetheart,” he responds, voice as weak as yours. “Are you okay?” Your head is getting light and the room begins to darken around you. “I’m okay.” You begin to slump over, but Clint catches you and lifts you into his arms. “Tony, I-” you say, before losing all consciousness. 

You’re in the medical ward of the Avengers facility when you finally wake up. Your head and arms have multiple cords attached to them, hooked up to a variety of machines. They all beep at different times, further disorienting you. “Where’s Tony?” you ask one of the nurses writing down your vitals.  “He’s in another ward.”  “Can I see him?” “He’s recovering now, miss.”  The machines beep rapidly as you begin to raise your fingers to your temple. You had sworn long ago never to use your powers like this, but you were desperate. 

Desperate and stupid. 

The nurse looked at you for only a moment before sticking a needle in your arm, immediately returning you to sleep. When you wake next, Tony is at your side. You cry out his name and reach out for him, aching to be in his arms. “Everything’s okay,” he says, holding you tightly.  “I shouldn’t have tried to control that nurse. I was just scared. I’m really sorry,” you cried into his shoulder.  “I know. They expected you to react like that. That’s why she was ready with the tranquilizer.”  “I don’t know what came over me.”  Tony pulled you away for a moment to look you in the eyes. “If I could’ve made someone let me see you, I would’ve in a heartbeat. Don’t feel bad. Everything’s fine.”  You sink back into his chest, a sense of calm washing over you that hadn’t for ages prior. “I love you.” 

[jeonqqin]

man up. [m] | pt.4

h. jisung x reader | netflix rom-com au

— ❝Even with classes, annoying brothers, and an unrequited crush, you still figured your first year of college was going pretty well. Until you managed to get your first boyfriend, and suddenly your brother and his stupidly attractive best friend were attached to your hip for the whole damn ride.

or alternatively;

Why did Jisung care about you so much, and had his eyes always been that pretty?❞

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

CONTAINS: brothers best friend au, teen rom-com au, sorta crack fic, love triangle au, college au

WARNING: future smut, language, reader being followed at night, not much, Chan’s sexy ass arms?

A/N: the big day!! also there’s a little scene for binnie’s birthday (even though it was yesterday)

▸ request

CHAPTERS:  01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 +

blog masterlist | ⟲ fic song

© jeonqqin 2020

—UNEDITED

Your mind was running circles around you, everything a blur.

Talking on the phone with Chan lifted your mood exponentially, but there was still something that ticked in the back of your head. With the way your conversation with Chan ended, you weren’t sure if you should’ve been jumping for joy or hiding away under your covers in hopes that no one would ever find you again.

“So, I was wondering,” His voice drawled over the phone.

You held back the urge to shiver in order to hear exactly what he had to say. Granted the wind had stopped, but the night air was slipping through the thin fabric of your clothes and making up for its absence.

“Yeah?”

You heard Chan chuckle—surprisingly enough it sounded nervous.

“Would you ever date a guy like me?”

And just with one question, you almost fell forward off of the swing.

“What are you saying?” You uttered, eyes staring out at the bright red slide in front of you that had been dulled by the darkness.

Chan cleared his throat, “Do you want to go on a date with me, Y/n?”

You had said yes too quickly, not just in the sense that it was embarrassing, but also because after you hung up, it really occurred to you that you would be going on a date with Bang Chan.

A date.

Had you even been on a date before?

You wrapped your arms around your body as you contemplated the whole situation. It was dark outside despite the street lights, and even then, they were too dim to really be doing their job. But you hardly noticed, too immersed in your own head to worry about the dark or the possibility of meat-heads roaming around looking for their next meal.

Your skin prickled, your subconscious attempting to warn you about the shadow that lurked only a few feet away.

The date. It should be easy; smile, talk to him without vomiting, and be sure not to make a complete fool of yourself in front of the single most attractive man you had ever seen. Piece of cake.

You mentally cursed Minho for possibly scaring you for the rest of your young life. Could you hold it over him if his years of desensitizing you turned you into a lonely cat-lady?

No—he’d already taken that title, and you weren’t sure if the universe was ready to support two financial tragedies within the same family.

The sound of footsteps fell to deaf ears, the lights of the dorms were able to be seen from your place on the street, and there wasn’t a shred of dread in your naive body. Not even when the sound of sneakers padding against tar got closer—too close for comfort had you been paying any attention. Maybe you were too tired, or your head was too preoccupied to focus on the approaching body behind you.

Not until there was a hand wrapping around your mouth and another pinning your arms to your sides. In your shock, you could feel the flex of your aggressor’s biceps—he was strong, and it had your heart stopping in your chest.

You wiggled the best you could in his grip, but the man’s hold was too constricting, and you suddenly wanted to cry. How stupid could you have been to let something like this happen?

Your heart pounded in your chest as you plead against the calloused hand, your legs shaking like jelly. He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear—mint, the one thing you could focus on was that his breath didn’t reek of alcohol like you would’ve assumed.

“Wow…” He released a breath with a small chuckle, and your brows furrowed.

The voice was familiar—

“You really are stupid. Do you realize that you would’ve been so dead if I wanted to like—take advantage of you and dump your body in a river, or something?”

You squirmed out of the stupid stupid strong arms of your stupid stupid ex-friend, you eyes set in a harsh glare as you brought your fists down on his firm chest.

“You fucking pig!” You screeched with rage, fists clenched even when he grabbed your wrists in between fits of laughter. You actually wanted to stab a knife into his eye. “I can’t believe you did that! I thought I was going to die, asshole!”

Changbin snickered with a mocking coo, “I know. Poor baby...”

“You’re a sadistic bastard.”

“Just think—” he released your hands, only to block the oncoming smack that you sent. “You won’t make this mistake again, stupid-head.”

You huffed, wrapping your arms around your body again and continuing forward, your pulse more intense than it had been before. “What if I had gone into cardiac arrest or something? You would’ve been fucked in more ways than one. Do you know what they do to rapists in prison?”

“Y/n,” Changbin chuckled under his breath, meeting your stride easily. “I didn’t rape you, in case you didn’t notice.”

“But if I died, that’s what it would’ve looked like! And suddenly you’re in concrete hell.”

Changbin shook his head. “God—just be more careful next time you decide to walk alone in the middle of the night. Call one of us or something.”

Guilt nawed at your skin, and you sent him a sulky pout. He was right. If something really had happened, you would’ve been fucked. Unless the guy was thinner than a twig and had a shit center of gravity, your chances of getting out of that kind of danger was unlikely. Damn Changbin and his infuriatingly true points.

You let out a groan as the boy beside you casually slung his arm around your shoulders.

“Fine. You’re right. Happy?”

Changbin’s head turned to you and he released another coo, his forehead pressing against yours and successfully annoying the shit out of you. How everyone else dealt with him was a true mystery.

He was supposed to be older than you?

The pitch of his voice raised, “Of course I am.”

You wrenched out of his grip, swatting away his reaching hand and stepping out of his range.

Perhaps there would be a murder tonight.

“Stop being a creep and act like a normal person for once, Bin.”

Without even looking back, you could feel the pout on his lips. But he only let out a quick whine before following after you, his hands stuffed into his jeans.

You had hardly noticed before, but he was dressed strangely—he was in a torn to shit grey t-shirt, multiple splotches of something black plastered across his torso just above the ragged seam of where the shirt ended, holes scattered everywhere exposing glimpses of his firm chest. The jeans weren’t any better, almost completely colored black by the same substance on his shirt, baring rips at the knees and not the ones you get solely for fashion.

“By the way…” You drawled, twisting around to rake your eyes over him one last time. “What were you even doing before this?”

Changbin glanced at his attire and shrugged, the smallest glow of red covering his ears. “I’ve been working on cars for some extra money.”

Your eyebrow raised. “At night?”

“It’s the only time I have free between producing new songs and school.”

Nodding you faced back towards the dark street in front of you.

Changbin had never sparked you as a manual labor kind of guy, let alone someone who could fix cars and get paid for doing it. But after taking a moment to think about it, it made sense. He fit the scene, so to say, and it somehow added to the edgy look he already had going on for him.

You didn’t know as much about your friends as you probably should’ve.

“So you guys actually got the recording room done? Are you and Chan using it now?” You asked nonchalantly, a terrible attempt to slide Chan into the conversation. Changbin must’ve known a few things about Chan that could help you quench your nerves for the upcoming date.

Changbin sent you a sideways look, letting you know that you weren’t as slick as you thought you were.

“Ah, Chan…” He hummed, the two of you finally getting close enough to the university to discern the different buildings. “What’s up with you two?” He asked hesitantly, a hint of a frown on his brow.

“Well—I mean, I like him a lot.” You fumbled for the right words, though you knew that Changbin wasn’t one to rush you. As annoying as he could be, he was a good listener. “And he just asked me out—”

“He did?”

Well, you thought he was a good listeners

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “Earlier he asked if I wanted to go out on a date or something—”

“Or something?”

You shoved him to the side, though his heavy body barely moved an inch.

“Would you stop interrupting me? I’m serious.” You huffed, frustrated.

“I am too.”

You froze—huh?

Your eyes searched his for a moment, his words not as comforting as you wanted them to be, instead his questioning only made your stomach twist in more knots than they had been in before. You really didn’t know anything about Chan, and talking to someone who did only made you hesitant about continuing with this first date of yours.

Sure, you weren’t one to believe rumors about people you barely knew—but it was the fact that you barely knew Chan that made you so nervous.

“Well I’m a little surprised that Chan asked you out.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“Uh…” Changbin paused, searching for his next words carefully with a contemplative hum. “It’s nothing bad. I mean, Chan’s one of the best people I know.”

“But…?”

He stopped to wait for you to run your student ID along the sensor, listening to the automatic click of the door and using it as a stall for time. He was trying to find the right way to word what he wanted to say. He didn’t want to blindside you, nor did he want to sabotage his friend by telling you something that might steer you away.

He waited for you to take a step inside the dorms before continuing with a hushed voice.

“Chan is… very selfless let’s say. He doesn’t really take the time to date per se. He’s work oriented. Not to say he hasn’t had girlfriends before, but they never really—”

“Became anything?”

That was what you had been contemplating. If the date went wrong, could you talk to Chan afterwards? Would he still be that person you could call if you wanted to step away from the world? You couldn’t find yourself feeling upset if that happened to be the outcome.

But with the small look of suspicion that Changbin sent, his brow curling upwards, you quickly backpedaled.

“He mentioned something about it while we were on the phone.” You rushed to save yourself.

Taking your answer without question, he stopped. You were both standing outside of your room, the quiet hallway encasing the both of you and chilling you to the bone more than the night air had. Changbin bit his tongue.

“Chan is an amazing friend. But I’ve never really seen him as a boyfriend before.” He sighed, scratching his cheek. “And as much of a little shit you are… I care about you enough to want you to be happy.”

“Is this you warning me?”

“No.” His mouth formed a thin line, he really had no idea how to word anything. It was beginning to frustrate him. “Just be aware that he isn’t the most observant guy when it comes to himself, so be patient with the guy.”

Okay, that helped you none whatsoever.

You sighed, pushing your dorm door open and nodding finally for Changbin.

“Well, thank you, Bin. For walking me and all that…”

Your gratitude was pitiful, but Changbin smiled wide nonetheless, glad that he could help you out despite his advice being absolutely terrible.

“Anytime, Y/n.” He ruffled your hair before you could stop him. “But next time, call me before you decide to be stupid and walk alone agian, okay?”

You smiled.

“Yeah. I promise, Bin. Thanks—seriously.”

As you closed the door, you missed the way Changbin’s lip quirked, his ears once again shining a red in the dim lighting of the hallway. He chuckled, shaking his head.

He wished both Chan and Jisung luck—you really were a handful.

“So this is a date?”

You had absolutely no idea what to say, your nervous gaze on the road in front of you as Chan glanced over at you from his place behind the wheel of his beloved Subaru Crosstrek—he had gone on a cute spiel about how he managed to scrounge up enough money from producing his tracks to afford the down payment on the car. It was cute only because he giggled every time he mentioned some miniscule detail that wasn’t necessary for the development of the story.

He always apologized when he got off track, but those were your favorite parts.

And you still had no idea what to say.

“Yeah, Y/n. A date. Have you ever been on one of those before?” He joked, taking another turn into yet another neighborhood.

He had to have gone down at least four streets already—

“Does a slow dance at a mediocre prom count?”

“A what?”

You snorted, feeling the telltale heat of your cheeks reddening. You were such a loser, the best you could do was tell him about your failed relationships?

“I mean, Jung Wooyoung was pretty hot, so I guess it could count. Granted, Minho stepped in before he could kiss me at the end of the song.”

“You’re kidding.” He looked close to ripping his cheeks with how wide his smile was stretching.

His eyes flickered to you and a shiver ran down your spine at the way he took one hand off the wheel and leaned against the center console. You were either terrified of him crashing or really turned on by the way his biceps bulged at the movement.

You cleared your throat, “Minho was always really adamant about keeping me away from all the funny business.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately not. My brother sucks.”

Chan burst out laughing. “That’s why he pulled that, ‘what are your intentions with my baby sister’ act?”

“He didn’t.”

“He did. But he backed off so quickly, I was convinced that it was a joke.”

You nearly choked, your eyes widening as you suddenly threw yourself around to look at him, unable to feel surprised at the way he was already looking at you with a charming smile.

“He did what?”

“Yeah,” Chan shrugged, shifting back to look at the road. “I asked him why it mattered and he just kind of backed off.”

That was right—Minho was scared of Chan.

You would never forget that fun fact for as long as you lived, and it was all thanks to Bang Chan. It really had you rethinking the whole reason why you were nervous in the first place. Chan was the only person in your life that had managed to get rid of stress rather than add to it, and you were obviously worried over nothing. Chan was amazing.

And you were crazy.

You laughed, catching Chan’s attention, his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips without you noticing. How you had managed to have him whipped within a matter of days was a complete mystery to him. But there he was, staring at your lips and risking his damn life while doing so. Chan was hopeful, he wanted things to go well this time, and he was going to do everything he could to make sure of that.

“Where are you taking me, you maniac?” You giggled in exasperation as he took yet another turn into a neighborhood, house stacked upon house.

Sure, it was nice to drive around with him, but you were beginning to get antsy. Even more so as Chan continued to look over at you and smirk, his smile as infuriating as it was attractive.

“We’re almost there, hold on.”

“That doesn’t tell me where—”

Turning down a dead-end, Chan lifted his hand to your mouth with an emphasized “shhh”.

Maybe he was a maniac and he was planning on killing you as soon as you reached the end of the street. You definitely wouldn’t be able to find your way back to the main road if he tried, so it was definitely a possibility.

“Don’t worry about it.” He hushed.

With a small scoff, you puckered your lips in a pout and they briefly brushed against the palm of his hand. With the action, your eyes widened as his head snapped your direction. Immediately, your lips pulled into a tight line, your stomach tying up in knots as he dropped his hand and let it fall to your thigh, causing your whole body to go ridged. What was wrong with you?

Chan chuckled, patting your thigh in an attempt to dissolve your tenseness, but it only proved to make your clothes feel much tighter than they had been before. You were physically going to melt into the seat with how hot you were getting, and you sure as hell hoped you weren’t sweating as much as you thought you were.

But the feeling of his hand wasn’t unpleasant—it was warm, but not so much that it was uncomfortable, which was surprising considering how your skin was close to melting off the bone. It simply rested there, occasionally he drummed a nonexistent beat against it with his first two fingers, though you suspected that he hadn’t even noticed that he had been doing that.

Without you realizing, he pulled the car into park, his eyes amused as he watched you stare at his hand for a little longer.

Something else—you definitely were.

“We’re here.” Chan said, lifting his hand away from your thigh to pull the key from the ignition.

You weren’t upset that he had moved his hand, but you couldn’t deny that disappointment had started to bubble up.

Looking out your window, you noticed that you were, in fact, at the end of the dead-end road. But instead of a dense thicket of trees or a mountain of concrete blocking it off, there sat a decrepit and grey building. The maroon of the bricks had been worn and chipped, and the large barn looking doors were rusted and close to falling off their hinges. You can tell that it had once been beautiful with the large stone bird watching over on a centered pedestal.

Chan opened his door to get out and you followed, despite how strange it might’ve been that he took you to an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere.

“What is this?” You asked, almost shell shocked at the sheer size of the building as you both stepped closer.

“It’s an old fire station.”

Old didn’t do the place justice—every new fire station you had seen was pristine and white, large open door garages lining the first floor. The one in front of you was nothing like the ones in town.

“I used to live in this neighborhood before I moved to Sydney. I was very young and don’t really remember much about it, but I do remember this place.” He smiled, looking up at the two storied building. “When I came back I never expected it to be still standing after fifteen years. I thought the two would’ve torn it down and built a convenience store there or something, but nope, it’s still here.”

It was nice to see his face light up while talking about something he cared about. It was endearing.

He then grabbed your hand with a small wink and dragged you forward, though you didn’t put up much of a fight at all. Every part of you screamed about how nice his hand felt around yours, how his palms weren’t too calloused to be rough but enough to want them all over the rest of your body. His pale skin pretty with the contrast of his raised veins. Veiny hands were nice… You really were just reverting back to your horny high school self, weren’t you?

You cleared your throat.

“But why did you bring me here?” You questioned, looking warily at the back of his head.

You weren’t scared, but you were almost certain that a building that was decades old wasn’t a normal date site.

“Why not?” Chan shrugged, hoping to god that you couldn’t see just how terrified he was.

“Maybe because I was expecting to go watch a movie or go to a restaurant?”

He glanced back with a raised brow. “Do you want to do those things?”

“I’d rather chew off my foot,” you admitted, catching him off guard for a moment. “But I’m trying to make you feel like the weird one here.”

Weird one indeed. He had spent the entire night before without sleep, not coming up with a new track, but thinking of where exactly to bring you. He contemplated how to explain to you the reason why he was so exhausted and jittery was because he didn’t want you to leave the date thinking that he was some average guy. Chan didn’t want you to think he was boring. So he could be weird if it meant you wanted to see him again.

You shared a smile, both of your nerves fading away with each passing second. Of course, Chan had nothing to worry about.

He proceeded to pull you through the old rickety door of the station, completely ignoring the way the visible slivers of his chest flexed when he tugged the door open with one good yank. Now that you were actually thinking about it, his outfit was one of the best you’d seen him in; a simple black muscle tee topped with a heavy denim jacket, and his jeans whitewashed and ripped.

It was simple but effective considering you couldn’t keep your eyes off the strips of flesh that peaked behind his jacket. If only the autumn breeze had taken a day off.

The further the two of you got into the building, the more excited Chan looked. His eyes lit up and there was suddenly a bounce in his step. Not to mention the way his grip on your hand tightened to the point where he was nearly cutting off the circulation. But it was nice nonetheless. You didn’t have the heart to be upset with him.

Your eyes flew around to all the different old contraptions that must’ve been shiny in their prime. With torn hoses all over the place, and precariously placed pipes, you had no idea whether to be amazed that they hadn’t succumbed to the elements or terrified that if you took one wrong step you would fall and get impaled.

Looking over at Chan, you giggled as he began to unravel a wound up hose, momentarily releasing your hand to act like a complete child.

“So what was your plan when we got here? Get me in a secluded place so you could tie me up and kill me?” You teased, offering him a smile.

Chan wanted to do two of those three things—that was for sure.

“What? You don’t want to explore this magnificent building with me?” He asked despite himself.

“So you didn’t plan some elaborate picnic with candles and fancy homemade French food?”

Chan paused for a moment, lips fighting a smile. You had built up quite the impression on him from the very moment you two met. The hours of preparation was for naught, and Chan could care less.

He hummed, “Well if you mean a blanket on the floor and take-out, then yeah. No candles though. I have a bad feeling that if we were to light any fire within ten miles of this place it would turn to dust. Which would be pretty ironic considering it is a fire station—”

“Are you rambling?”

Chan froze, mouth open to deny your question, but found that it wasn’t completely false and shut it.

“...it’s probably cold too.” He added lastly.

You smiled.

“Sounds good to me.”

You then proceeded to struggle your way up a flight of unstable spiral stairs with Chan close behind—so close that his arms were almost completely around you. He assured you that it was only so he wouldn’t be at fault if you fell. But it felt nice whenever his chest brushed lightly against your back, so you let his lame excuse slide.

The food was, in fact, cold. But it was still good since you really couldn’t go wrong with traditional Korean food.

And so the rest of the evening played out, the two of you sharing pleasantries and learning about one another, with many cracked jokes about your brother and his friends, only strategically avoiding Jisung all together.

Chan went on about his story, how he had two younger siblings back in Australia and a set of loving parents that believed in each and every one of his dreams as he grew up, and supported his pursuit of becoming a producer. You bit your tongue, keeping your questions of “do you miss them?” and “do you still see them?” to yourself. Still, Chan seemed happy enough, you thought. Considering you would be miserable if you had to spend your time with someone who complained and sulked the whole time. You were glad he could talk about his family without falling into a pit of missing them.

That date was pretty perfect, despite its oddities.

Who knew someone could be a by-the-book romantic and an original dork at the same time?

Your own thoughts had you chuckling into your water, almost making you cough, but thankfully Chan hadn’t noticed, his attention too zeroed in on all the food in front of him.

“Oh shit—I forgot all about that thing!” He suddenly exclaimed, his eyes locked on a rusty fireman’s pole that ran up into a hole in the floor. Chan hadn’t even finished his (second) bowl of food when he jumped up and ran up to the death trap. The thing didn’t even have any padding at the bottom to protect someone from breaking their legs, and he was excited about that?

Suddenly, you let out a laugh—it was the kind that comes out unexpectedly and makes a loud, unattractive noise and it surprised you both. Your hand clamped down over your mouth on impulse before your shocked expression broke, a swarm of giggles leaving your covered lips and forcing a pink tinge over your cheeks. Chan could only stare at you in awe, trying to think of everything else that could beat your laugh in the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, but he came up blank.

“Come down the pole with me.”

His words had you freezing mid-laugh, eyes wide.

“What? No way am I doing that. What if I get pole burn?”

“Here,” Chan threw his jacket over your shoulders, surprising you with the flood of warmth cascading around you. “Now you can’t get pole burn.”

You pushed your arms through the arms of the jacket, silently relishing in the warm weight.

“Ah, look at you Romeo. I see that you’re trying to make up for all the years I missed going on dates. How romantic.”

“I try.”

With a wink, he was grabbing onto the pole all of a sudden and wrapping his legs around it. You barely had time to stare at the image of his thick biceps curling around the pole before he was descending down it with a laugh of his own. You leaned forward to watch him hit the floor, his knees bending to absorb the impact. He smiled up at you, the sight blinding.

“Your turn!”

“Did I ever mention that I’m kind of allergic to bad ideas?”

Chan snickered, leaning his hands on the pole and shaking it to show you just how “sturdy” the thing was. The wiggle and creak didn’t set you at ease, that was for sure.

“Oh, come on, Y/n. You just watched me do it!” Was his genius response.

The night was beginning to just become you counting how many times Chan said or did something that made you think he was a child.

“Okay, I just don’t understand why you want me to go down this damn pole! Is it some right of passage or something? Do you only go out with the girls who have the balls to do something this stupid?”

“Slide down here and find out.”

He got you there. You really did want to find out.

So you bit the inside of your cheek and wrapped your shaky hands around the rust crusted pole. How Chan managed to do so so easily without sleeves was baffling and a little sexy for whatever stupid reason. You had a thick layer of denim protecting you, and you still felt like you were going to be filleted open.

“Don’t think about it,” he encouraged with a soft voice. “Just jump. I’ve got you.”

And at the words of a poet, you squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath, taking a step off the wooden floor and letting gravity pull you down. You could hear the rust tug and catch on the fabric of Chan’s jacket, but only for a second, because it only lasted a second before you felt hands grab your sides and pillow your impact. A surge of adrenaline had you breathing heavy as Chan cheered lightly in your ear.

“There. You did it.” He poked your forehead with a chuckle, getting you to open your blown eyes. “You have successfully completed the initiation.”

Your heart felt heavy and beat hard against your ribs as he straightened you out, hands finding purchase in his jacket. Subtly he was admiring how you looked in his clothes, but he would never admit that sappy fact to anyone.

You smiled; admittedly shakily. “Ah, yes. Validation. My favorite.”

Chan admired how you could keep releasing quips despite your fear. You weren’t one to be deterred, that was for sure.

“You have an unlimited supply of sarcasm in you, huh?”

“I don’t know. It hasn’t run out yet.”

He smiled and you smiled, it was a good moment—the best of the day. A moment where you were glad you listened to him and literally took the leap. Ready to take another one, your eyes dropped to his lips and his dropped to yours.

And he finally leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours.

You weren’t completely caught off guard, but you definitely were. His hand that wasn’t preoccupied with fiddling with your fingers found your face, palm cupping your jaw and urging your head to tilt to meet his kiss better. It was gentle, as you had expected from Chan, and you were thankful for that.

His lips were softer than you expected and you prayed that the hand that held your cheek wouldn't be able to feel the way your face was burning. The way he intertwined your fingers was more intimate than the kiss itself and you couldn’t help but feel yourself getting light-headed. You lost yourself to the way your shared breaths echoed around the large room every time your lips separated only to reconnect again immediately.

Your first kiss—well, your first real kiss. Surely that one you had shared with Kang Chanhee back in your first year of high school didn’t count. You had only gotten away with it since Minho was home sick that day, anyway.

It was much warmer than your last kiss, that was for sure. His jacket kept you shielded from the cold air and his body secreted a natural heat that had you pressing closer, which in turn sent him a signal to push forward as well.

Suddenly, his teeth bit down on the sensitive flesh of your lip, pulling a taut gasp from your throat.

The noise had Chan withholding a groan, pushing him to break the passionate exchange, his hazy eyes meeting your wide ones.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, voice small and unsure.

He could see the way your lips shined with not only your spit but his own. In some sick and twisted way, he was pleased to see the redness that the kiss brought to your puckered lips. It was satisfying. It was a sort of claim, and he was proud to hold it.

"Nothing. Just admiring my work." He grinned.

You hardly had time to register his words when the hand wrapped around yours was used to yank you forward, Chan’s mouth finding yours once again in a quick peck, leaving you just about a hundred degrees warmer than you originally felt.

[marshmallow-phd]

Sweet Anticipation

Genre: Baker AU

Pairing: Junmyeon x Gender Neutral reader

Request: @cxsmicmyeon​ hiiii rennie!!! i hope you're doing well love💞i'm here to send in a request for loml junmyeon because i'm not down bad for him at all no why would anyone say that /sarcasmanyways!! i'd love to request a fluff piece with baker! jun!! (han dowoo from how are u bread stole my heart😭) maybe like a meet-cute or something?🥰 thank u so much!!!!💞💞💞

**

The sweetness of the thick dough baking into a steaming loaf of fresh bread encapsulated the air. Shelves made of a light colored wood lined the walls of the small bakery, displaying rows of cakes, biscuits, rolls, and cookies for any passerby to see. They were the most enticing temptations. Junmyeon made sure of it. 

Said baker and owner of the small establishment hummed and sang softly to himself as he carefully poured each ingredient into the mixer to make his well regarded icing. He flipped the switch on the side of the machine and watched with an eagle’s eye as the ingredients became one. The noise of the machine drowned out everything else, including the visitor calling for anyone present. It wasn’t until Junmyeon turned off the mixer did he learn that he was no longer alone. He paused, contemplating on taste testing the icing now or going to see who had entered. 

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered to the metal bowl and headed towards the front. As he emerged and saw someone standing on the other side of the counter, he asked, “How can I help you?”

You smiled and waved at him. “Hi! I’m here with your deliveries.”

Junmyeon frowned. “Andrew normally bring my deliveries.”

That pulled out a grimace. “Um, yes, I know. Andrew broke his leg - I don’t know how, he refuses to say. I think he’s embarrassed. So for now, I’ll be bringing your supplies.” You paused, nails digging into the wooden clipboard that you clutched to your chest and your teeth threatened to break the skin of your bottom lip. “Is that okay?”

Was that okay? Andrew knew exactly where to put different boxes and how to stack them to Junmyeon’s liking. It took a long time to build a partnership like that. But there wasn’t really a choice to be found at the moment. So, Junmyeon sighed. “It’s fine. Let’s go.”

Nodding, you headed out the front and disappeared from the window’s view. Junmyeon took a glance at the waiting icing and followed you out. 

The back door to the trailer parked behind the bakery was open, revealing several white cardboard boxes with labels depicting the contents inside. When Junmyeon walked up to the trailer, you hopped up inside and started reading off the invoice. As you said the number, you patted the box and counted out loud. At the end, you handed over the clipboard for him to double check as well. 

“Everything look right?”

Eyes done scanning the papers, he nodded. “Yes, it does. You can start bringing it in.”

“Okay.” 

You started moving boxes closer to the edge for easier access. Junmyeon opened the back door and propped it open. He heard you jump down from the trailer so he decided to go back inside and finish the icing. 

“Ow!”

Not even making it two steps inside, Junmyeon peeked his head back out the door. You were struggling with the weight of the box, flicking your wrist from apparently pinching one of your fingers. This was going to take a while. He watched as you slowly brought in the box. You constantly needed to adjust the box in your arms in order not to drop it. Junmyeon sighed again. 

Without saying any words, he headed over to the trailer and grabbed a box. 

“You don’t have to do that!” you said anxiously. “I can get them.”

“Its fine,” Junmyeon grunted in response from the weight of the box. This really was heavy. How did Andrew do this all the time?

It took about half an hour to get everything inside and then another ten or so to organize it. Junmyeon was breathing a bit heavier, but glad that it was done. He signed the clipboard and handed it over to you. 

“Thank you,” you smiled. He couldn’t help but return it. You sniffed the air. “Something smells really sweet.”

“Its the icing,” Junmyeon explained as he walked over to his work station. “I’m making a very important cake and - damn it!”

The icing had broke, the ingredients clearly separating as a brown liquid - most likely the vanilla extract - rose to the surface. 

“What is it?” you asked as you leaned over to look into the bowl. 

“The icing is ruined and I don’t have time to make it and finish the cake in time for it to be picked up.” Junmyeon’s fist clenched on the counter but he resisted the urge to punch the surface. It would do no good and only hurt his hand. 

“What if you had some extra help?” 

Junmyeon frowned at you. “What?”

You lifted your shoulders and then let them fall rather nonchalantly. “If I helped, would you be able to finish it all in time?”

Junmyeon mulled over the offer. In theory... well, it had a possibility of not being a complete disaster. “Do you have any baking experience?”

“Just in my home kitchen. I get a sweet tooth a lot so my oven and I are on speaking terms.”

He burst out into laughter at your joke. “Okay,” he agreed as he got his chuckling under control. “Let’s get started.” He poured out the ruined icing and got to work. 

It was a wonderful surprise to Junmyeon how well you followed his directions, listening carefully and double checking with him if you weren’t sure before you poured the flour into the mixing bowl. In between, the two of you chatted and got to know the other a little more. You told him stories of burning cookies and under baking a loaf of sourdough. In return, he told you how he got started in baking, spending time with his mother in the kitchen and chasing the perfect confection. 

All too soon, almost everything was complete. The only step left was for the cake to cool enough to decorate. 

“Thank you,” Junmyeon said sincerely. “I really appreciate it.”

A slight warmth was evident on your cheeks, though you tried to hide. “Of course. I feel like it was my fault that the icing broke in the first place, so I owed it to you.”

“No, no, not at all! I made it wrong,” Junmyeon lied. A few specks of flour dotted your cheek. Without thinking, he reached out and wiped it away. There was a charge in that contact. Your eyes said that you felt it, too. Clearly his throat, he dropped his hand. “But thank you.”

You let out a small giggle. “You said that already.”

Now he was embarrassed. “Right. Sorry.”

“Well, I’ll let you get finished up here. I have to take the trailer back.” You waved as you backed up towards the door. “Have a good day.”

“See you next week?” Junmyeon asked with a little too much anticipation. 

You nodded. “Yeah. Next week.”

“Good.” He watched you close the back of the trailer and hop into the driver’s seat before driving away. As he turned back to the cake waiting inside, he began to plan the most wonderful treat that had ever been made. Just for you. 

[lune-hime]

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 1

https://lune-hime.tumblr.com/masterlist

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

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

Tulipa Estella Rijnveld ~ A tulip whose soft white petals are stained with a crimson pigment.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

The putrid sounds of screaming and bones cracking were gradually soaked up by the trees and replaced by the stillness of the evening. The newfound silence of the countryside left an eerie calm over the two scouts but only amplified the ringing in Levi’s ears. The thumping of the horse’s muddy hooves against the hardened spring ground made his head throb as they rode further and further away from the massacre. Any sound was better than nothing, though, otherwise the silence would make him hear their foul cries.

Your pained shrieks.

In his arms you laid limp, the only sign of life was your slight breaths that just barely caressed the bottom of his chin. Whenever it became uneven the ringing in his ears sharpened. He would squeeze your side instinctively, something he would usually do to wake you up when you slept in too late. Only this time instead of your hand in his it was your blood staining his palm. He applied constant pressure to your bleeding side with one hand while the other, white-knuckled and bruised, held the reins. His grip was the only thing that kept him from floating off that damned horse. He was grateful he had lost his horse in the chaos instead of you; you loved the animal too much for Levi’s liking and he knew how devastated you would be when you woke up and it wasn’t there.

Once we get there you better fucking wake up, Y/N.

Levi had somehow managed to stop your bleeding with the piece of his cloak tightly wrapped around your waist combined with the pressure of his hand. This gave him minor peace of mind as you galloped through forest after forest. Emerging from the thicket, the last obstacle blocking your path to safety materialized on the horizon. The towering structure of Wall Rose was baked pale in the waning rays of light, it's untouched bricks proudly protecting those who resided inside. Levi wasted no time in grabbing the guards’ attention the moment he reached the barred gate.

“LET ME IN.” He screamed, his voice scattering the crows that rested on the railing of the wooden lookout post. Though he was extremely winded, his command was firm. There were some muffled curses and the sound of glass shattering before one guard peaked his heads over the edge, making eye contact with Levi’s impatient form below. To say he was startled was an understatement.

“C-captain Levi?” He called out in disbelief. The guard looked from the captain to the limp body in his arms, eyes widening in shock when he saw the remnants of your profuse bleeding.

“Captain Levi is here?” Another voice slurred from behind the first guard. A second soldier appeared, rushing over to lean heavily on the railing and gawk in awe.

“Hey, Captain! What are you doing all the way here at Krolva? What an honor, do you have a minute? My niece is a big fan and if I could get your autograph I’m sure she would really appreci-” He rambled excitedly before being cut off by a brisk slap from his comrade. He stumbled from the railing with a groan, clutching the back of his head in pain.

“Are yer eyes still workin’? Can’t you see he’s a little busy for that.  He’s riding with a wounded soldier, idiot.” His more sober counter part scolded. They soon got into a drunken argument about how to address superior officers, especially ones with pressing issues. The more their pointless conversation droned on the more Levi’s anxiety level rose. If he was delayed any longer he felt like he was going to shatter like the soldiers’ discarded beer bottle.

“I don’t have time for your shit!” He exclaimed. Your horse had begun to sense Levi’s urgency and started pawing at the ground and pacing restlessly in front of the gate.

The guards immediately halted their chatter and turned their full attention to him once again, looking like scolded children. There was a brief silence, broken by a single hiccup.

“Just. Let. Me. In. The. Damned. Gate.” Levi seethed, voice dangerously low. The guards exchanged nervous glances before scrambling to make the call that would raise the iron bars. The second the gate creaked upward, your horse was ready and anxiously bouncing on its hooves. When the opening was just large enough to fit through, your horse bolted through.

When the soldiers stationed at the guard tower would later tell the story to their comrades, and eventually Commander Pixis, they would swear that they saw the devil himself within Levi’s eyes.

Time had no meaning anymore as he weaved between stalled carts and yelping pedestrians. His eyes were on the prominent steeple that jutted out like a sunflower among dandelions from the jagged edges of the residential buildings. After rounding corner after corner and navigating the winding side streets he applied pressure to the reins at the front of the aged church. The grim sight that befell him festered at his already bleeding heart.

Sickness hung so thickly in the air that Levi felt it seeping into the pores of his skin. Hoards of ill residents congregated outside of the newly deemed hospital. Ymir’s stoney outstretched arms beckoned them to be herded like sheep into the eglise by their shepherds donned in nurses uniforms. So slowly were they being admitted that Levi could ascertain that the establishment, as grand as it looked on the outside, would not be able to harbor all of them. The mob groaned, wretched, sputtered and seemed to move as one undulating blob of disease.

Levi’s face contorted as the stench of bile singed the inside of his nose. Every one of his brain cells was scolding him for even contemplating the idea of having you treated at a place with such levels of contamination, but by the fucking walls he had no other foreseeable option. He kicked your horse briskly in the gut, abruptly trotting away to confront one of the nurses.

“You have to let me in. She’s bleeding out and needs stitches now.” Levi ordered with the remaining level-headedness he had hanging by his pinkie. His sanity was flowing out of him at the same rate blood was leaving your body. But he would not let his emotion influence his body and mind. The nurse’s eyes widened to the size of eggs, obviously overwhelmed by the sheer ghastliness of the situation.

“Captain Levi?!” She exclaimed in disbelief, first at the sight of the infamous soldier and then to the limp body clutched in his arms. Levi was aware of his so-called “popularity” but he swore he was going to explode if one more person acknowledged his name before the critical state of the soldier in his embrace. The nurse’s eyes darted to Levi’s bloodstained palm and she let out a small gasp barely audible through the cloth. Her eyebrows furrowed and Levi could infer she was frowning deeply.

“Sir, I’m sorry but we are at full capacity.” Her smooth voice was muffled by her mask. “A recent outbreak in the eastern district has us overwhelmed.”

Her excuse passed through one of Levi’s ears and right out the other. Every minute he sat here idly was another precious minute of life drained from you.

“You absolutely don’t have anyone that could treat her? Or- just give me some goddamn stitches and I’ll do it myself!” Levi demanded, tone flaring at the latter half of his proposal. The nurse gulped and shook her head somberly.

“The capital has been limiting the export of medical supplies to selected districts, including Krolva. We are maxed out now due to the illness...I’m afraid we can’t offer you anything.”

Levi dug his hand into the reins and tugged at them in frustration, making your horse skitter sideways. The scouts prided him in being one of the most rational members of its legions, which was a gift he was honing into as his head spun so quickly with what little options he had left. Uncharacteristically irrational thoughts tempted him, however when a splash of floral color caught his eye just behind the nurse’s shoulder it clicked.

He was in Krolva.

Krolva was your hometown.

You had family here.

Family with a distinct profession.

He stared at the ornamental tulips in the church yard for a moment before whipping his head towards the nurse.

“Where is the tulip farm.” Levi’s simple inquiry held the esteem of a military order of the utmost importance. Anticipation bubbled up within him as the nurse sputtered at his seemingly random change of subject.

“Um-The Vogel Estate is located slightly out of the district. If you go through the gates of Wall Rose its about a half an hour off the main road. There are signs for it you can’t miss.” The nurse instructed, pointing in the direction of the gates. Levi nodded once and was about to turn your horse around when the nurse let out a sound of protest.

“Wait!” She said hurriedly. She looked around nervously before reaching into her dress pocket, pulling out an ivory handkerchief and a small vile. Her gloved hands reached out to you looking at Levi for permission to remove his crimson caked hand.

“This saline won’t do much, but it will minimize infection.” She instructed, carefully lifting Levi’s hand. Sticky blood attempted to reconnect his limb to your side, however the nurse blotted the most recent stream away with a steady hand. Her breath hitched at the severity of your wound as she began pouring the contents of the vile onto your torn skin. She then folded the handkerchief and placed it firmly onto your side, grasping Levi’s hand and placing it over the fabric.

“This should keep more dirt from getting into her wound and irritating it. Keep applying steady pressure; thankfully it looks like you have been doing that already.”

Levi looked from his hand to her eyes, grateful for the sympathy that they held despite his frustration.

“Thank you.” He said curtly. Then, tugged on your horse’s reins and with one swift kick was off towards Wall Rose. To his relief, the gates were wide open as merchants filed through them. He deftly rushed past their inventory checks, unsympathetic to the whines in protest when your horse’s side rammed into a cart resulting in the spilling of an expensive keg of whiskey.

The signs to the estate took him through a picturesque village that made him question if the both of you were even residing in the living world anymore. When the crisp clacking of hooves against the brick road manifested into drum beats on the hard earth Levi had a small sliver of hope he was finally nearing his destination.

He had no idea how long the two of you had been riding for as crop fields turned into whistling wheat fields; the euphoric rolling hills were laughable in comparison to the bloodbath you had fled from. Levi only had a vague idea of where he was headed; his mental map painted by fond childhood memories and other stories of your youth. Based on your descriptions the place you talked so much about couldn’t be hard to miss.

You had taken Levi to Krolva once, a little less than a year ago he reckoned, on a rare scouting legion day off. However, you were unable to stay at your family home due to a myriad of circumstances. He wouldn’t have admitted it but a sweet, syrupy nervousness would churn in his stomach whenever you would talk about introducing him to your family and the other intimate aspects of your childhood. He had, indeed, already met the closest members of your family. One a scout that Levi was quite familiar with and the other the owner of this estate. He could count on one hand the amount of times he had met her and could say with the utmost certainty that it perplexed him beyond hell how you two were related. The fact that this was the first time you two were going to be there together, well the irony was ludicrous.

As humble houses began to litter the landscape he regained some confidence in his surroundings. Levi began analyzing each structure as your horse sped past, hooves hitting the stone path with the intensity of gunshots. His frantic mind began convincing himself that he was in fact in the wrong location when he saw the subject of all your musings.

Tulips.

A vast ocean of tulips that extended so far they seemed like they could caress the horizon. Levi had never seen such a sight in his life. He was never able to fully comprehend the pristine scenery you always described but seeing it laid out in front of him had enlightened his mind. Across from the floral sea sat a grand house, its elaborate frame sticking out against the rural landscape. Levi urged your horse on with a firm kick, a pained whinny erupting from its belly.

Upon reaching the structure Levi yanked on reigns, causing your horse to slide to a stop along the dirt path of the front yard. The homestead was silent except for your horse’s labored panting. Not even the sparrows that nested along the siding of the ornate porch chirped or rustled about. Levi took advantage of the quietness to make his presence known.

“H-HELP!” He shouted, his voice faltering a bit from his sore throat. He was far too used to being on the receiving end of this plea and it made him sink even more into desperation that this time the roles were reversed. The stillness lingered but a moment before the grand door swung open with a force that sent it bombarding against the siding of the house.

“Y/N!” A figure cried from the porch, their bellow echoing over the high entryway. The woman hurried down the steps with a spryness that betrayed her age. As she neared, Levi was faced with the familiar features of your grandmother.

“What in all hell happened, Levi?” She exclaimed with viscous horror. Her face contorted into various morphs of worry and disdain with each new angle she viewed of your mangled body.

“Y/N...she-” Levi wheezed, but his throat was too dry to formulate a proper sentence. His voice was cracked and his shoulder was numbing to the point where he was beginning to lose feeling. Your grandmother exhaled and collected herself, a wave of determination fastening like a uniform onto her being.

“Shit. No time for my questions, we need to get her inside now.” She stated firmly, releasing the reins from Levi’s locked grip. He nodded and allowed his hands to rise to your shoulders to pass you off to the woman. To his delight instead of fresh blood a layer of dark liquid caked his palm. This meant you hadn’t bled a significant amount since the hospital. He let out a shaky breath as the woman gathered you into her arms. You fell limply into her embrace, her knees buckling a bit at your weight but she quickly regained her posture. You looked like a corpse, pale and utterly dead looking, which made Levi want to throw up.

He never threw up.

As the woman began carrying you inside, Levi lifted his leg to dismount your horse but winced in pain. He hadn’t noticed his own injuries due to your condition, but now that the adrenaline had started to wear down they were catching up to him. When he landed the dismount he was met with a sharp pain along his shoulder blade. The pain was just an annoyance though in the grand scheme of the situation. The one thing that mattered the most in his life had almost been torn to pieces. So his shoulder could wait.

He began to hobble towards the front door, leading your horse along with him. He let go of the reins just shy of the porch steps.

“Wait here.” He coughed. There was of course no way your horse would understand him, let alone obey him. Knowing that animal it most definitely wouldn’t stay in the same place Levi left it.

Making his way into the house he paused in the entryway, taking in his surroundings. The foyer ahead of him was spacious; a large staircase laid directly in front of him and tall archways to both his sides led further into the lodgings. The quarters screamed quaint luxury; from the high ceilings, the perfectly intact pearl colored walls, to the elaborately carved hand railings of the stairs. He knew your family wasn’t exactly poor, but he didn’t know they were this economically endowed.

“Up here, quickly.” The woman called from the second floor, consequently snapping him from his daze. Blinking a couple times he charged up the stairs, taking the polished wooden steps two at a time. Once at the top he saw an open door to his right, one of many along the hallway. Just like the rest of the house the room was big, wide windows letting in the evening sunlight and casting a warm glow across the chambers. You were splayed across the silk sheets, the smooth linen now dirtied by your blood and god knows who’s else's. Your shattered form contrasted with the affluence of the room and he felt like he had just walked into your funeral service. The woman was seated at your side next to the nightstand. She had a variety of medical supplies splayed across the small table; needles, thick thread, cotton, alcohol, steel scissors, gause.

“Help me adjust her.” She requested in a low tone. Levi nodded once before walking to the opposite side of the bed and gingerly grasping your shoulders. The woman had laid you haphazardly on your side, unable to properly lay you straight due to her old age. Levi was impressed nonetheless, however, that she had carried you all the way up those stairs from the front yard. He moved your body so you were laying on your back, arms against your sides. Not wanting to get in her way, Levi planted himself on the bed at your other side.

“I’m thankful that you brought her here.” She said as she cut away pieces of your shirt with the scissors. “But why in holy hell did you not bring her to a proper medical facility? Half of her got torn up by one of those fuckers.” She exclaimed, her voice quaked with emotion but her hands remained steady.

The woman really had a way with words.

“Apply pressure to her wound while I get the stitches.” She instructed, immediately padding about the room to gather her medical supplies. Levi did as he was told and cringed when your flesh squelched under his palm.

“The hospital at Krolva was full, they wouldn’t let us in because of the illness.” Levi explained in a voice uncharacteristically small. His gaze remained fixed on his hands. Damn, his fingers were twitching.

Your grandmother slammed a bottle of alcohol down on the nightstand in disgust. Her weathered arms shook slightly at the impact.

“That damned hospital, if you can even call it that, is never prepared to take on the ailments of this city.” She spat. Now having gathered all the necessary items she pulled the stool from the vanity and set it so she was level with your injury.

In the fray he hadn’t been able to get a proper look at your injury. The woman had bunched up your tattered shirt just under the swell of your chest. She examined your torso with seasoned eyes, yet Levi saw a tinge of worry laced in her gaze. The skin that was exposed looked like someone had taken a rake to it; indigo bruises framed a sea of tattered skin in the shape of a crescent moon. Your body bent in at an unnatural angle where the titan had bitten down on your side and Levi was just thankful that he couldn’t see any bone. Seeing you in this crippled state caused tears to sear the inside of his eyes but he refused to let the floodgates burst. This was not the time to be weak, especially with this woman here.

“Don’t go crying on me now, shorty. I know you aren’t the soft type.” Levi jumped at the familiarity in her tone. It put him on edge at first; he had arrived under dire circumstances now she was calling him names and was talking as if he was an old friend. But it was oddly comforting; the boldness and confidence in her voice eased away some of his jitteriness. He huffed in response before watching her work again.

Your grandmother used gentle fingers to assess the wound, gingerly prodding the areas where you should have had skin but you didn’t. She then reached for the cotton and alcohol and began to clean the wound as much as she could; the large teeth shaped holes in your side would be difficult for any trained physician to work with. But she handled the medical supplies with a grace Levi never considered possible. When she was finished cleaning your side she spoke up.

“She’s unconscious but she could still accidentally bite her tongue.” She stated, standing from the chair to rummage through the carven dresser. Out of the top drawer she pulled out a leather belt. She returned to the bedside and handed it to Levi.

“Place this in her mouth. I’m about to start stitching her wound.” She instructed, cutting a long piece of thread with the steel scissors. His fingertips brushed your jaw as he guided your mouth open. You were already slack jawed as little puffs of air were rising from your agape lips. He folded the belt in half two times and placed it between your teeth, careful to keep your tongue along the bottom of your mouth lest you started to choke.

Once he was done, Levi studied the woman’s hands as she prepared the needle. Her fingers were wrinkled, coarse, bent at the joints, and they looked like they had endured a lifetime of hard labor. Those aged fingers preformed with precision and finesse from the moment the needle entered your skin to the tying of the final thread.

Although not awake, you had in fact tried to bite down on the belt, letting out muffled groans each time skin met needle. Levi desperately wanted to look away each time but didn't out of fear you would bite through leather.

“Talk me through what happened.” Your grandmother said without a wavering of her concentration. Had she sensed his uneasiness? Levi swallowed hard, the action painful on his parched throat.

Levi’s whole body stung with exhaustion and pain as he prepared to explain. When he spoke again his voice was still hoarse but not as jagged as before.

“What was planned as a routine expedition turned into a recovery mission for Eren-”

“Mhmm, the boy who can shift into a titan.” Your grandmother interjected, mostly as clarification for herself. She attentively continued to thread you back together as if you were one of your chewed on stuffed animals that sat atop your dresser.

“Yeah. Y/N’s squad was set to clear out any incoming titans on the western edge. That’s when the abnormal appeared. I saw the flare and-” He explained, almost in a whisper. Damn did his throat hurt. Damn did everything hurt.

“You acted out of order.” Your grandmother stated simply. A knowingly somber smile upturning her wrinkled mouth. Her words and the soft manner in which they were said caused Levi’s mouth to hang agape mid sentence.

“Which I am grateful for. Otherwise she might have died alone out there.” She added. Her expression was as even as her handiwork but Levi could see that in her eyes concern was brewing like freshly charred coals.

“A ripe piece of shite it is that this is the longest conversation we’ve had isn’t it?” Your grandmother huffed a dry laugh. Levi could only nod in response as he watched your jaw clench when her needle deftly plunged into a heavily bruised area.

She was right. The other times he had interacted with the woman were brief and professional. Both were at military events that left little room for idle chatter, seeing as she was a highly praised veteran of the garrison. One interaction occurred before you two were committed and one...well that awkward experience could not have been far enough from the forefront of his mind.

It took thirty minutes for the woman to piece you back together but it felt like a fortnight for Levi.  When she was finished she exhaled loudly and wiped her hands on a now stained crocheted dish towel.

“All done.” She stood and placed her hands on her hips. Levi couldn't begin to thank her enough for all she had done in such a short amount of time.

“Thank you, for everything.” He coughed, thus sending a wave of pain down his shoulder blade.

A huff of laughter left her lips and she sent a wyry smile his way.

“Well, what kind of grandmother would I be if I left my granddaughter as the remains of titan fodder? Come on let’s get her in some clean clothes and wash some of this blood off.” Levi nodded once and proceeded to help your grandmother get you changed and cleaned up. When the two of them had finished you almost looked back to your normal self; your body tucked under the satin covers in an elegant ivory nightgown. Your features were soft, plush lips parted and breathing steady. You now fit in with the lavish ambiance of the space. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. That is until he felt a poke on his arm.

“It won’t do either of us any good if we just sit here staring at her. Come downstairs, i’ll make you some food and stitch you up too.” Your grandmother was looking up at him sternly. Levi shot her a confused glare and she met his gaze with another chuckle.

“You don’t hide your wounds very well, humanity’s strongest. Now come on, don’t make an old lady wait.”

[mf-despair-queen]

Partners in Crime - Lee Taeyong

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Pairing: Lee Taeyong/Reader - Mafia AU

Word Count: 17,864

Summary: Y/N meets the man of her dreams one day randomly on the street. Little does she know - he is the boss of a mafia in town. But does she care? No. They were partners in life - and partners in crime. 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, I am too lazy to put more to this. 

Notes: April Fools - I’m actually posting! I’ve only had this sitting in my drafts completed for over 3 months. Be warned - I didn’t really proofread this. But it’s fine. everything is fine! Enjoy! 

“You should have left while you could…”

“You know that wasn’t a choice.” A hand slid into his.”We are partners in crime after all. If you go down, I’m going down with you. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, and I will never regret it.”

A small smile graced the man’s face, lacing his fingers with yours. With a reassuring squeeze and the click of his gun in his right hand, he glanced to his side. 

“I honestly knew this day was going to come eventually. I knew I would go down one way or another,,” he rasped, tucking the gun once more into the back of his jeans. His eyes locked on yours before continuing, “But I’m glad that I have you by my side.”

You smiled at him before placing a tender kiss to his lips, your free hand carefully placed on his bandaged shoulder. His eyes closed, relishing in the feeling and taste of your lips on his. The screams from outside the building fell on deaf ears. The threats made went unheard. In those ten seconds, it was just the both of you, embraced by the calm emotions shared between your forms. Silent tears slid down your cheeks from fear and sadness, knowing your impending fate, but he wiped them away gently after pulling away. His lips dragged down yours as he backed away solemnly, wishing this wouldn’t be the end.

“I love you,” he mumbled just loud enough to be heard. 

“I love you too,” you repeated, taking his hand and preparing to stand and face the gallows of red and blue lights flashing through broken windows and bent blinds. “I always will, Taeyong.”

“Excuse me!” The young man called, though his calls went unnoticed. Heavy footsteps fell along the concrete as he attempted to catch your retreating figure, clutching the book you dropped while rapidly making your way down the road. When he finally caught up and tapped your shoulder to get your attention, he understood why you ignored his calls. 

With a jump in shock, you turned to the red haired man in awe. Earbuds were tucked deep in your ears, soothing jams filling your mind as you moved. Time stood still when your eyes met his deep brown ones, your heart jumping slightly. Before you stood a handsome man, mid-twenties if you had to guess, with sweet, angelic eyes, fluffy hair draping across his forehead and shielding the small slit in his eyebrow, and the sharpest jaw you had ever encountered. 

He wore a simple red wool shirt that hugged his neck and lean torso, a thin black hoodie and a puffed gray vest that was decorated in red designs. Black jeans hugged his slim waist, a black belt wrapped through the looks, and black vans covered the white socks on his feet. Three sparkling earrings dangled from his left ear, a ring adorning his left helix and one single stud rounded out his jewelry. 

Realizing that all you were doing was staring, the man awkwardly smiling and uttering mumbled words through your music, you tugged the earbuds out. “I’m sorry about that,” you whispered sheepishly. “Music.”

“I get it,” he chuckled deeply. His voice was smooth and sweet, the underlying rasp making your heart jump a second time. “I don’t mean to bother you, but I saw you drop this earlier.”

He extended the book towards you, your eyes widening at his gesture. Carefully, you took the book from him, glancing into your small bag to find it empty. “Oh my god. I didn’t even realize it fell out. Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem at all,” he laughed, tucking his hands in his pockets. “It’s the least I could do to help a beautiful girl.”

A blush spread along your cheeks, a shy smile growing on your lips. Tucking the book safely back into your bag, you glanced at the handsome man. “Well, can I know the name of the lovely gentleman that returned my book and made my trip to the cafe to read not in vain?”

He smiled, extending a hand toward you. “I’m Taeyong.”

You took his hand, finding it warm and soft. “Y/N.”

“It’s a pleasure, Y/N.”

“Same,” you chimed. “Well Taeyong, how can I ever repay you for this?”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” he started to say, sealing his lips when you shook your head.

“Please, I insist! I really appreciate what you did. I would have lost it in the middle of the cafe if I found I lost this book. It’s my favorite and it was a gift from my sister,” you confided. “I want to repay you somehow. Please?”

“Well,” he started, rubbing his lips together. His eyes narrowed and his lips curled into a cheshire-like smirk. “You could let me buy you a coffee.”

You giggled at his suggestion, tucking some hair behind your ear. “I’d like that, but only on one condition.”

“Oh?”

“You join me for said coffee?”

Taeyong chuckled, nodding happily. “I’d love that.”

A smile grew on your face, butterflies fluttering rampantly inside your stomach. You could feel a small blush spreading across your cheeks as your looked up at the handsome man. “Great. Shall we get going?”

Taeyong smiled back, his glowing smile infectious. “Lead the way, beautiful,” he uttered. You nodded, turning on your heel and leading him towards your original destination - Haru & Oneday - with Taeyong at your side. His hands were tucked deep in his pockets as you walked, a happy hum coming from the man. “So, tell me about yourself.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “That’s a deep conversation. I hope you know that.”

“I have time.”

A skip inside your chest, a knot of excitement in your gut, a flash of heat across your face despite the chilled weather of December.

“Well…”

The entire afternoon was spent talking, tucked into a small corner of the cafe. The second you arrived, Taeyong asked what you wanted. While he ordered your coffee, you picked a secluded place to talk, knowing the book you planned to read that day would go untouched. You were more interested in the mysterious man that captivated you on the street, kindly returning your lost item. 

And learn about him you did. He was a kind soul, living in the same building as a bunch of friends that he worked with in business. He enjoyed singing and dancing in his free time, spitting a rap that made you laugh and clap in excitement. He liked to cook, but you figured out that he had a massive sweet tooth more than anything from the way he devoured a whole slice of chocolate cake by himself. The smile that lit up his face as he ate the decadent treat made you smile happily. 

You told him your story - where you were from, growing up in Busan, your love for cooking and reading. You even told him about the boring desk job you worked to pay for the small apartment you had. You lived an ordinary, boring life in your opinion, but Taeyong listened intently, taking interest in the little things that made you happy. 

Just as the sun was setting and his phone was ringing, presumably from his friends asking where he had disappeared to, did you agree to wrap up for the day. Taeyong slipped from his seat first, but not before sliding a folded napkin in your direction. 

“I enjoyed spending the day together, Y/N,” he mused, pocketing his hands. “I’m glad I was able to meet you today. It really made my day better. I hope we can do it again sometime.”

He waved before walking off, leaving you to gather your stuff. Just as you were finishing, you glanced at the napkin he left. Your stomach flipped and your heart raced, finding his phone number written on the paper, a cute doodle of himself, and the simple words of Call me? printed underneath. Tucking the napkin in your bag, you left the cafe, thanking the owners on your way out.

It was dark by the time you arrived home, closing the front door with a soft click of the lock. Your shoes were left forgotten in the doorway, headed straight for a shower to wash away the day’ odor. Finishing your nightly routine, you returned to the bag you left on your bed, sitting on the plush mattress. Your fingers tugged out the napkin, your lip tugged between your teeth as you contemplated shortly.

Your fingers moved without much though, grabbing your phone and typing the number into a new contact. The message you sent him was simple.

To: Taeyongie - Hey. This is Y/N. I just wanted to thank you again for today. It was great meeting you and getting to know you. I hope we can do it again sometime. 

His response didn’t take long.

From: Taeyongie - I’m glad you messaged me. I was worried for a bit that I wouldn’t get to hear from you again. 

From: Taeyongie - I’m glad I got to meet you too. You really brightened up my day, so for that, I have to say thank you.

From: Taeyongie - I can’t wait to see you again.

Your heart was aflutter, sinking into your bed and rereading the message a few times. You were glad you decided to brave the cold and travel to your favorite cafe, even if you hadn’t intended to almost lose your book and meet a gorgeous gentleman that seemed to steal your heart from under your nose already. After many failed relationships through school and early adulthood, you didn’t think you’d find someone like him that would sweep you off your feet so easily. 

When your phone buzzed again, making you jump slightly in shock, you reread his last message three times before your eyes grew wide.

From: Taeyongie - Though next time, I hope you’ll allow me to take you out for a proper first date.

Your fingers shook as you tried to type a coherent response, 

To: Taeyongie - I’m looking forward to it.

He really was one of a kind.

~

Nearly four months after meeting Taeyong, you were head over heels for the man. You talked to him daily, waking up to sweet messages wishing you a good day and falling asleep to messages bidding you sweet dreams. You had learned much about the man, finding yourself falling deep into the abyss of his chocolate colored eyes. You were wrapped around his finger, though not in a bad sense. He had stolen your heart, and you were willing to let him keep it.

Every other week, you found yourself going out with the man when you weren’t at your house together. When you chose to stay in, you would be wrapped up on your couch or in your bed watching movies while his fingers ran through your hair soothingly, or the tips of his fingers ghostling along your arms. You’d make dinner together, play games together, and even go out to walk Ruby together when he brought the small dog over for your amusement. You’d occasionally find yourself dancing together around the house, singing whatever song he decided to play for you, but you never once hated these moments. They were some of your favorites.

But he would insist on taking you out to dinner, treating you kindly to a romantic date that consisted of expensive dinners or trips to random places - the arcade and the beach being recurring destinations. He’d never let you pay, sometimes making you wonder how he could afford the expensive meals - he never did clarify what his job was - but you wouldn’t decline the dates if it meant you could see him. After the second date, he would always tentatively kiss you goodnight, the connect short and sweet, leaving you craving more. You never shared more than that - though you wished you did.

Tonight was one of those nights. Taeyong had sent you a sweet morning greeting, telling you that he was going to take you out for dinner that night. He didn’t specify where - only to dress elegantly, finishing with a cheesy remark that you always looked fabulous. He planned to pick you up at six sharp, leaving you the rest of the day to clean around the house and prepare for your fancy date. 

At five, you jumped in a shower, dressing in a lacy set of red lingerie before doing your hair and make up. You picked a sleek black dress from your closet - an expensive present you had gotten from your family one year but never found reason to wear - that would accentuate your curves, but not flaunt you in a promiscuous way. The skirt flared out against your thighs and the top hugged your chest, not being too showy around your cleavage. You wanted to impress the man, not make it seem like a slut. You finished with a pair of low heels and minimal jewelry consisting of earrings and a necklace Taeyong insisted he buy you on your third date.

Exactly at six, he was knocking on your door, holding a bouquet of roses in his hands. He smiled brightly, tilting his head cutely in greeting. The silver earrings swung with the movement, a few loose strands from his slicked back hair flopping loose. He wore a red and black checkered jacket over a black and white checkered button up shirt, tight black jeans with rips in the knees hugging his lean waist. 

“Hey beautiful,” he greeted, extending the flowers towards you. “These are for you.”

“You know you didn’t have to, Tae,” you giggled, taking the flowers from him and relishing in the delicate aroma they offered. “But they are beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I know I didn’t have to but they always make you smile,” he mused with a smile. He watched you rush to put the flowers in a vase before grabbing your purse, locking the door on your way out. His arms wrapped around you, hanging loosely at your side as he stared down at your smiling face. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you murmured with a light blush, running your hands up his arms, resting on his biceps. “You don’t look half bad yourself. Not that it’s hard for you with your face.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he laughed, taking your hand. “Shall we get going? Dinner awaits.”

“Lead the way.”

He led you to a car - which was rare - that took you to your mysterious location. The tall man in the driver’s seat introduced himself as Johnny, giving you both a smile before driving off. Turned out the man was one of Taeyong’s friends that he had told you briefly about before, and he had kindly offered to drive you both seeing as Taeyong didn’t have a license himself. Johnny kept to himself, allowing you to talk freely with Taeyong, the red haired man flirting carelessly the entire time.

You arrived at a tall building, Taeyong chuckling at the confused look on your face when Johnny parked the car and opened Taeyong’s door for him. Taeyong held out a hand to help you from the vehicle, thanking Johnny for the ride. The tall man simply pat his friend on the back and gave him a wink before returning to the car and driving off. Your hand slid back into Taeyong’s as he led you to the doors of the building, the doorman nodding.

“Good evening, Mr. Lee.”

The interaction with the doorman and Taeyong further confused you. This was different than your normal dinner dates where you always had a private room or balcony in the restaurants, servers catering to your every need. He wasn’t leading you into a high class restaurant where he could bypass the line and walk straight to a table without question. You were in a pristine lobby with a fountain and couches, a giant chandelier above your head. 

He led you to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, snickering at your confusion. He didn’t bother to clarify what was going on. He simply ran his thumb over the back of your hand, listening to the music play above you. When the elevator dinged that you were at the top floor, the man led you out wordlessly, digging into his pocket for a set of keys for the door at the end of the hall.

“Where are we?” you finally questioned, watching him unlock the door. 

Taeyong hummed while pushing the door open, allowing you to walk in first. He witnessed you gawking at your new surroundings, the elegant living room of the penthouse you found yourself in leaving you flabbergasted. “Welcome home,” he chimed, shutting the door.

“This is where you live?” you asked, turning to the man. In the time you knew him, he had never once talked about where he lived. You had never seen his house, always spending time together in your tiny, cozy apartment. Now, you were staring at the large living room with multiple plush couches, art lining the walls, and a large kitchen and dining room in the distance. The table was decorated with candles and place settings, a bottle of wine being chilled in a bucket.

“Is it too much?” he asked, pouting slightly. 

“You just never mentioned you live in a penthouse!” you scolded, shoving him lightly before wrapping your arms around him. “But this is breathtaking.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he whispered. “I figured that today is our fifth date, not counting our little cafe rendezvous when we first met, so what better date night than for me to make you dinner in my own home.”

“You’re making dinner?” you chirped, gleefully bouncing on the balls of your feet. “I love your cooking so much.”

“Well, go ahead and get comfortable and I will get cooking.”

You nodded, watching him make his way into the kitchen. He poured you a glass of wine before he started cooking, watching you sink into one of the couches to watch him. He caught you occasionally looking around to take in the impressive surroundings, laughing to himself. He told you that his friends lived in their own apartments in the lower floors, leaving you to wonder what exactly they did to afford this. You didn’t know his exact line of work - he always just said business - but he was obviously successful enough to afford the penthouse of the building.

Taeyong beckoned you over when food was ready, pulling out your chair for you. He poured you more wine before serving you a piping hot bowl of bibimbap. Taking his place beside you with his own glass and bowl, he tilted his glass towards you. “To the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You giggled, flushing brightly and tilting your glass to his. With a clink of cups, you responded, “to the most handsome man in the world.”

The meal was delicious, melting on your tongue. You made small talk as you ate, enjoying Taeyong’s giddy nature from drinking. The man couldn’t hold his alcohol at all, and one sip left him red faced and giggly. You helped him with dishes when you were finished, even though he protested it vehemently, finding yourselves flicking water at each other and blowing bubbles into the air.

You curled up on the couch together for a while before he would have to take you home, Your head on his chest and his fingers running through your hair. The silence was welcoming, the sound of his erratic heartbeat all you needed for comfort. He would sometimes hum a song for you, but mostly you just relaxed in his grasp. It was times like this that you enjoyed the most - being with him made you feel content. 

In your entire life, you never cared for someone as much as you did the red haired man before you. Never in your life did you like someone as much as you did Taeyong. He made you feel loved and cherished. He made you feel beautiful and wanted. 

You wanted nothing more than to be with him forever.

You frowned when he suggested it was time to take you home. Instead of calling Johnny to drive you back, you opted for a late night walk so Taeyong could sober himself up, treating yourselves to some crepes on the way. You walked hand in hand the entire way, the sway between you both making your heart jump in your chest. 

Arriving at your apartment, you sighed under your breath, turning to look at the man. “Thank you for tonight,” you told him, giving his hand a squeeze. “I enjoyed our date. I think this was my favorite date so far.”

“Well, there’s more of these to come,” he chuckled, tugging his lip between his teeth. He stared at you silently, moving his free hand up to your face. His fingers curled against your cheek, smoothing across your skin as you sank into his touch. “Y/N…”

“I should probably go inside-”

He cut you off with a passionate kiss, tugging you into him. Your hand was dropped so he could cup your face in both hands, putting everything he could into the connection. The shock from the initial kiss wore off, your eyes fluttering closed and returning his kiss. It was deeper than any kiss you shared before. His head was tilted and your lips meshed together perfectly. Your hands gripped at his jacket, pushing up into him as much as possible. 

The world around you stopped. It was just you both in that moment, sharing the most amazing kiss you had ever dreamt of. This was what you wanted, this was what you had waited for. The way his lips dragged against yours as he smothered you with his lips left you eager for more. The smack of his lips disconnecting from yours left you gasping for precious air, yet a desire to return your lips to his.

“Be my girlfriend,” he rasped deeply against your lips. 

All you could do was nod in return before he was kissing you again, dropping his hands to your waist to tug you closer. Your hands moved up and around his neck, tangling into his hair, pulling him deeper into you. The kiss intensified, lips speeding up and parting for an entourage of open-mouth kisses to start. Your bodies were flush against one another, heat spreading along your limbs.

The moment was broken from the ring of his phone, the red-haired man pulled back with a scowl. He kept you against him as he fished the phone from his pocket, reading the message he had received. Low strings of curses left his mouth before dropping the phone back into his pants, tilting your head to place a kiss on your forehead. 

“I’m sorry, but I have to go. Something came up that I need to take care of.”

“Is everything ok?” you wondered, frowning at his for his reaction to the message.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine, I promise. Just some last minute work popped up that I need to help Mark with,” he tried to reassure you. Something was off about his tone, but you nodded at him anyway. He must have caught your uncertainty, pulling you into a light kiss. “I promise it’s nothing to worry about. Now, go inside and I will talk to you tomorrow, alright?”

“Alright, Taeyong,” you whispered, kissing him one last time before backing away to unlock your door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, blowing you a kiss as he backed away, turning on his heel and stampeding away. 

You watched his form vanish around the corner, tucking yourself into your apartment. Leaning against the door, you let your fingers run along your lips, smiling at the thought of your new boyfriend. The questions you had about his late night business venture were pushed aside for now as you chose to trust the man. You rushed to your room to prepare for sleep, enveloped in happy dreams of the red-haired man.

Outside your building, Taeyong stared up at your window for a moment before a black car pulled up. He quietly filled the backseat, meeting eyes with Johnny and Mark. The blank tint of the windows kept the outside from seeing the gun passed to him by the young lad int he passenger seat, Taeyong checking the clip once over.

“How’d it go?” Johnny questioned cheekily.

“You know the rules,” Taeyong glowered. “Don’t touch my girlfriend and protect her from this shit.”

“What’s going to happen when she finds out?” Mark asked.

“Don’t worry about that. That’s my problem,” Taeyong hummed, tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans. “Focus on this deal for now. I can’t have you distracted if this goes south.”

“Yes sir,” both men spoke, the car going quiet as they advanced towards an abandoned warehouse where their deal was to take place. 

~

One year. 

One year since you started dating the love of your life. Six months in, you had been the one to say it first.

“I love you, Lee Taeyong.”

He didn’t hesitate to repeat the phrase multiple times while placing kiss after kiss to every inch of your face and neck before curling into you and cuddling you tightly. You didn’t regret saying it, especially after he responded the way he did, loving you just as much as you loved him. You knew you wanted to spend your life with this man; you knew he held your heart in the palm of his hand. But you were happier than you had ever been. This was the highest point in your life.

You started spending more time around Taeyong’s massive penthouse on your days off or after work, your routine with Taeyong nothing different than before. Everything just seemed to get better - especially as his friends started to migrate into your life as well. There were twenty boys living in the building that he worked with, but he had a group of eight others that were closest to the man and popped up most often. 

You had met Johnny before when he was your chauffeur for your date, so getting to know the tall American was different. He loved photography and fashion, sometimes spending his time with you on your days off by having mini fashion shows in Taeyong’s penthouse. Taeyong always had a good laugh when he walked in on your faux walking down a runway, planting himself on the couch to watch and take his own pictures.

Taeil was the oldest of the bunch, a quiet man that enjoyed singing with his friends Doyoung and Jungwoo. He was famous in the group for his dad jokes, becoming the butt of many jokes. He also had an equally bad alcohol tolerance to your boyfriend.

Doyoung was a snarky man that loved to pick on Taeyong, but you could tell he cared about him. He had rabbit-like qualities that you found adorable. When Taeyong was busy when you were around, Doyoung would make you delicious meals that left you in a food coma on the couch until Taeyong would return.

Jungwoo was a mischievous little brat, but you always found him to be funny. He whined childishly for attention and played around with the others. He craved long hugs that made Taeyong yell at him because he was taking his girlfriend from him. 

Jaehyun was your workout buddy. The fittest of the bunch, the man with deep dimples had offered to exercise with you when you complained you had gotten lazy in Taeyong’s house. You could never keep up with him or Johnny, who often joined you both in the gym, but having someone there to push you was worth it. 

Yuta had the most infectious smile. He would always play games with you and make you smile. But the thing you did most often was watch soccer together. The man loved the sport, having grown up playing in Japan, so watching games together was always exciting. He got so captivated by them that he wouldn’t realize he was jumping around wildly.

Haechan was a brat, but he was skilled in dances. He had this innate ability to watch a dance on tv and perform it. His time would be split between the main group of nine and the younger boys in the building. Even with his evil personality, you loved the young boy, happily failing by his side when you would dance together.

Mark was probably your favorite. He was the one around most often, caring for you when Taeyong was working. He had quickly grown to be like a little brother that supported you through everything. He told you about his life in Canada while you told him about your life in Korea, sharing the littlest things with each other. He would play the guitar for you in his spare time, often lulling you to sleep with the beautiful melodies.

You didn’t expect to meet such a rowdy bunch, but they made your relationship with Taeyong even sweeter. And though you still often had dates with Taeyong, you also spent a lot of time with the group on outings. Going out for meals or going around the city was more special with your hand clamped in Taeyong’s and the bundle of males running around you.

As much as you have enjoyed your one year anniversary alone with Taeyong on a romantic date, eating an expensive dinner that you knew Taeyong would insist you have and finishing the night together tangled in the sheets, you were glad you went with the current idea. When the group found out that it was your anniversary, they insisted on taking you both out for a good night.

What started with a fun meal of barbeque that they paid for completely, not a single cent paid by you or Taeyong, turned into a drunken mess at a nightclub. Hesitant at first, you barely took a shot or two of soju with the others. Taeyong was wrecked just from those couple shots, beginning to drink more and more. Watching him enjoy himself let you relax, beginning to down your own drinks.

The night slowly became a blur of flashing lights and loud music, but you knew Taeyong was always by your side. Either his hand was in yours or resting somewhere on your body - the small of your back, wrapped around your waist and hugging you to his side, and resting on your thigh as you sat at a booth, drinking and playing games together. 

You danced together, your body rolling against his. He was obviously more skilled than you were, but even in his shrunken state, he led you confidently and naturally, grinding against you eagerly. Your back pressed against his chest as his hands sat on your hips, fingers splayed against bare skin from where you shirt rode up. When you faced him, you arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in his fluffy red threads. 

Hot kisses were left on your mouth, your lips left puffy and swollen from the multiple attacks he left on you. You were already warm from the club and the plethora of people around you, but your body was searing against his. Each taunting kiss he gave you, lips parted and tongue slipping into your mouth, left you craving more. Your hands wandering against his form, trailing up and down his arms, let him panting, the man tugging his lip between his teeth.

“We should get out of here…”

That’s all he had to mutter once for you to find yourself escaping the heat of the club and back in Taeyong’s penthouse. It was past midnight when you stumbled through the door together, your lips latched together in a sloppy kiss. Your arms were wrapped weakly around him, trying to kick off your shoes as you pushed into the doorway. Taeyong kicked the door shut with his foot, struggling to lock it and discord his sneakers before entering the house. He couldn’t focus with your lips connected to his, your tongues swirling together eagerly between your cheeks.

He picked you up with easy, a squeal of shock lost to his throat. His steps were uneven as he moved forward, supporting you with one hand on your ass, the other following the wall to guide him through the darkness. The kiss broke when he tripped over the rug and bumped into a table, a bruise bound to form on his knee. Low curses left his lips, the man rushing into the bedroom. 

The door slammed shut behind you, Taeyong turning to trap you against the sealed entryway. His lips found home once more on your own, igniting another fiery kiss between you. You happily returned it, tasting the vast amounts of alcohol that lingered on his taste buds. A subtle swipe of his tongue against your lips told you to part them and let him inside, which you willingly complied. The taste of the bitter liquid from the evening was heavy on his tongue as it roamed your cheeks.

Your moans were muffled, mind foggy in the midst of the kiss. It didn’t occur to you that his hands were traveling up your sides, pushing at the bottom of your shirt until it was resting underneath your breasts. The skim of the pads of his thumbs against your sides and ribs sent shivers up your spine, more mewls of delight lost to the sensual lip lock. Taeyong pushed harder against your, his hips rutting against your clothed core, both sets of jeans blocking what you truly desired in that moment. His head tilted to deepen the kiss, letting out a groan of his own.

The first time you separated, chests heaving for precious amounts of air, he uttered two short words. 

“May I?” 

You knew what he wanted, even in the blur of words that met your ears. You nodded at him, arching off the door long enough for him to rid you of your top, the cotton fabric strewn across the floor carelessly. Lips back to yours for a single second before disappearing south, searing hot kisses leaving a wet trail along your neck and clavicle. Your swollen lips parted with delicious moans for him to savor, trembling fingers lacing through his locks on the back of his head. 

His teeth toyed with the strap on your left shoulder first, playfully nipping at your skin in his futile attempts to drag the strap down your arm. Your mewls of delight mixed with short giggles before taking the opportunity to rid yourself of the pesky garment. Taeyong pouted without a doubt - he always hated when you did it for him - but didn’t bother to argue. 

His lips found home on your bare chest, lips wrapping around the pert nipple on your right breast. A content sigh left your mouth, back arching into his touch. Your hands twisted through his red strands, giving him a tug whenever he found a sensitive spot on your chest. You tried to watch him through the haze, but your eyes were blurring too much. 

Was it the alcohol still present, slowly wearing off? Or, was it the pleasure of him suckling at your nipples, giving them short tugs with his teeth, and pulling away with short pops that rang in your ears?

You didn’t know, nor did you care. You were in heaven.

Taeyong spent several long minutes pleasuring your chest, red marks lingering on the mounds and between them when he swaps between them on occasion. With each kiss he left, and each bite he left, his hands holding you up against the wall grabbed at your backside. His hips ground against yours, becoming more frequent and harder against your covered core. The bulge in his tight jeans was obvious, growing more prevelant by the second. His cock was stiff, and his actions just solidified what he wanted.

Placing you on unsteady legs, his nimble fingers made quick work of your pants, the man kneeling long enough to tug them down your legs. Your panties came with, leaving you naked before his eyes. The red head toppled slightly, nearly falling on his ass in his tipsy state. A mixture of the alcohol and his awe at your body left him speechless and wobbly, slowly standing while working at his own jeans.

Your hands were quick to replace his, struggling to undo the button of his dark skinny jeans. Taeyong had to place a hand on the wall to keep himself upright, his other hand massaging his face a few times before pushing his hair back. Low groans and swears escaped, staring down at you when you grew frustrated and collapsed to your knees, stumbling just as he had. 

“Dammit,” you growled, tugging angrily at the jeans when they wouldn’t unbutton. Taeyong chuckled deeply.

“Need a hand?”

“No. Fuck you. I can do it myself.”

The man let out a hefty chortle at your frustration, repaying you for what you did earlier. His fingers made quick work of his own jeans, the button unsnapping and zipper slowly lowered before your eyes. With a short huff, you tugged the dark denim down his legs, leaving them around his ankles so you could rub at his covered cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned loudly. The hand he had on the wall slowly curled into a fist, pounding against the wall lightly. You smirked up at him, biting at your lip. He rarely cursed, but when he did, you knew he meant business. “Don’t tease me.”

You clicked your tongue at him as you tugged his boxers down, letting him spring free. The fabric was left to pool at his feet, you focus turning to the large cock staring straight at your face. It twitched with anticipation, the tip red, swollen and oozing precum. It pulsed as your fingers grazed along the shaft. The sight made your mouth water, tongue tracing your lips slowly.

Taeyong’s fist pounded harder to the wall, a loud grunt exhaled when he felt your lips on the tip just before taking the entire length between your cheeks. He struggled to focus, blinking repeatedly to clear his vision to watch you bobbing your head along his cock. Your hand gripped the base firmly, pumping it in time with your bobs. Your tongue trailed along the underside of his shaft as you moved, the tip traveling along the pulsing vein that protruded out. Your other hand toyed with his balls, juggling them between your fingers and giving them light squeezes.

“Shit,” he cursed again, earning a small smile from you. Taeyong leaned forward, placing his head against the wall, heavier pants starting to leave his lips. He could barely form words with the overwhelming ecstasy of your mouth around his cock. “Please, baby. Give me more.”

You kept your motion steady, not giving into his plea entirely. You wanted to savor the taste of his salty sweetness that seeped onto your tongue, overriding the bitter drink from the early evening. Taeyong didn’t seem pleased; his hand gripped at the hair on the back of your head, his hips jutting forward suddenly. He halted when you gagged once, knowing his abrasive stunt was a bit much.

When you were situated, stilling your movements but keeping his cock resting on your tongue, he thrust forward against. He leveraged the hold he had on your hair to push you forward, your nose meeting his pelvis. His cock met the back of your throat repeatedly as his timed thrusts met your forced head bobs, a slobbering wet gurgle of him fucking your mouth filling the air. Taeyong moaned loudly, unable to keep his voice down - not that he needed to. 

He didn’t stop until he was groaning loudly, his wild thrusts that had grown sloppy ceasing and he was spilling his salty seed down your throat, the white ribbons of cum filling your cheeks and swallowed happily. He pulled out at the end, hand wrapping around the base and giving it a few final pumps. The last few shots landed on your face and chest, your tongue extended to try and capture them. You let out a hearty giggle, tracing the cum along your face and chest with a finger.

Taeyong huffed when he watched you suck the finger clean. The man, fed up of waiting, hoisted you up by the hand before lifting you bridal and turning towards the bed. With the fabric still bundled around his ankles, he stumbled forward, kicking anxiously at them to discard. 

You were thrown careless on the bed with a light yelp and laugh, Taeyong pouncing on top of your bare form. His lips instantly met yours, furious open mouth kisses shared. Your bodies were grinding against each other rapidly, hands eagerly tracing each other’s forms. Your legs twisted together, feet playfully nuzzling against one another. Your arms looped around Taeyong’s neck, fingers curling through his tangled red hair. 

Taeyong pulled away, glancing between your forms long enough to align himself with your core, sheathing himself inside you with one quick thrust. Your eyes closed, moaning and groaning from his size. He wasn’t the largest man out there, but it never ceased to amaze you whenever you were intimate how well he could fill your pussy up. The man stilled, peppering your face with kisses and uttering sweet nothings until you gave him the signature tap on the shoulder to let him know he could continue.

His thursts always started slow, pulling back until he was about to leave you empty and then pushing back in completely. The pace would be slow and steady, soft moans leaving you both. But as time went on, he would gain momentum, hips starting to snap into yours hastily until he was slamming into you, pressing you into the mattress. The sound of clapping skin grew louder, the moans became screams of his name, and your body trembled under his. 

You were quick to orgasm, feeling his thick cock sliding in and out of your tight core quickly, pounding at you quickly. The tip pushed against your g-spot every time he pushed into you, earning himself a breathy pant from below him. Your walls would hug around him, making it harder for him to concentrate on his thrusts. It grew worse when he felt you shudder, back arching and toes curling. Your pussy squeezed him, spilling around his thick shaft and soaking it completely. 

Taeyong stopped moving, not wanting to fill you up so soon, watching your twitching form relax after a minute. Leaning back on his knees between your legs, he pulled himself out, satisfied at how wet his shaft was. HIs fingers toyed with your sensitive entrance for a moment, hearing you groan and watching you twist in subtle discomfort.

He placed a longing kiss on your lips before turning you on your side, laying behind you. His fingers ran along your sides soothingly, drawing different shapes on your stomach and chest. He carefully draped your leg back over his hips, jutting his forward to slide himself between your pussy lips. A low mewl escaped, turning your head back to him to share a loving kiss just as he pushed into you once more.

His hand gripped at your breast, lips pressed to your shoulder. His thrusts picked up steadily, pushing himself deeply into you from behind. The new angle allowed him to hit deeper inside you, his already moist length sliding with ease between your tight walls. He collided with your backside with each thrust, groaning happily with every smack he heard. The bed squeaked with his quick thrusts, jostling with the movements of your bodies. 

Despite his hard and fast repetition of his cock pushing into you, his lips placed kisses to your ear. You could hear his pants and low grunts in the buzz of your ecstasy, enjoying the way he felt thrusting into you furiously. Every slam into you made your head spin, the feeling of his length sliding against your walls causing your heart to beat faster. The way his lips felt against the side of your head at the same time that his cock pushed deeping to and pressed against the most sensitive spot to make you quiver was causing your stomach to burn.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured into your ear softly, nipping at your earlobe. When you moaned in response, his lips curled upwards. His hand grasped tighter to your breast, burrowing his face into you. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I-I love…” you started, panting quickly. 

Taeyong knew what you wanted to say. It was clear. He also knew that you were close again - because so was he. His thrusts were growing sloppy and he could feel your walls tightening sporadically around him. You were both chasing the final high of the night as exhaustion was becoming apparent.

He pulled out, leaving you whining and empty. It wasn’t for long because he pushed you once more on to your back, sliding into you quickly and roughly. Every time, Taeyong had a thing for finishing in a way where he could see your face. He loved to watch you ascend into heaven, feeling blissful from sex. He leaned on his knees between your legs, one hand pushing your leg back and resting on the back of your thigh so your foot rested on his shoulder, and the other pushing your other leg out to spread you wide for him. His eyes were cast onto you body, swapping between your breasts bouncing with his quick snaps, to your heavenly face, swollen lips parted with moans.

“Come on,” he whispered, feeling the sweat running down his brow. “Cum for me, baby,” he pleaded. Rule number one with Taeyong: he always wanted to make sure you were pleased before he was. He always made sure to make you cum before him, and if he didn’t he would work extra hard to please you. It wasn’t uncommon for him to beg for you to snap under him.

“Tae…”

“I know baby,” he let out, heaving for air. “Come on. We’re almost there. Just let it go for me.”

“I love you…”

He grit his teeth and dove in for one last kiss, both of you breaking at the same time. Your bodies trembled together, your juices spilling around his length and his thick seed filling your core completely. Your inner walls were painted white by the strings he spewed, letting them decorate your core in warm stickiness. You moaned into his kiss, too weak to hug him close. 

You were limp when he pulled out, half-lidded eyes watching the satisfied man. His fingers danced along your core, spreading your pussy lips to watch your combined juices trying to escape. One slick finger carefully pushed the juices back in, causing you to shutter and mewl his name. Content with the pleasure, he collapsed beside you, two sweaty bodies sticking to his silk sheets. A thin blanket was dragged over your bodies, one of his arms draping across your stomach. You curled into his side, letting out a long breath.

“I love you so much,” you whispered again. Taeyong didn’t reply, making you glance up at him. “Taeyong?”

“Move in with me,” he whispered. you almost felt like you didn’t hear him right. You blinked a few times before sitting up slowly, groaning in pain. You hugged the blanket to your chest, turning to the man. 

“What?”

“Move in with me,” he repeated, louder this time. “You’re already here all the time, and you shouldn’t have to be paying for the dingy apartment. I love you so much, baby, and I want you to live with me.”

The room grew quiet, the air thick. You repeated the offer in your mind. The alcohol had worn off at this point, so there was little chance that he wasn’t thinking straight. Taeyong stared at you silently as you thought, biting at his lip. Only when you carefully took his hand in yours and placed them laced together in your lap did he let out the breath he had been holding. 

“I will,” you mumbled before turning to him and kissing him passionately. “I will, Taeyong. I love you so much. I will move in with you.”

“Wonderful,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “You just made a man very happy today.”

“Well, you always make me happy,” you told him back.

“Yeah. I always will…”

~

You awoke to the sunlight streaming through a small crack in the curtains, the light hitting your face directly. A low groan left your lips as you turned over, finding the bed cold and empty beside you. Since moving in with Taeyong, you had become accustomed to the morning he was gone when you woke up. He had work to do, and he hated to disturb you when he left. 

When your eyes fell on a small box on your side tab and a folded note, you smiled. Carefully sitting up, blanket to your chest, you grabbed the two items, looking at the note first. It was short:

A beautiful present for a beautiful woman. I will be home for dinner, so I will see you then. I love you. Have a wonderful day babe.

You shook your head, looking into the box. It was a gorgeous pair of diamond earrings that would dangle and shine from your lobes. You shook your head, letting out a short laugh. 

“That man,” you scowled playfully. “He just doesn’t know when to quit.”

He always bought you presents, especially after you moved in months ago. They were always expensive, and you would yell at him for wasting so much on you. He said it wasn’t an issue and he wanted to spoil you. It left you wondering how much money he had. You never fought him hard about it; the gesture was always sweet and made you smile because he thought of you so much.

Climbing out of bed, you grabbed an outfit from the closet, showering and dressing quickly. It was the early afternoon when you stepped out of the penthouse, leaving the large building with a pep in your step. You walked down the road to a small market store on the corner, a place you would frequent when you had small cravings or needed mild groceries. With the thought of Taeyong returning in time for dinner, you wanted to return his generous gift with a homemade meal of his favorite items - complete with a chocolate cake.

The only issue was you were low on groceries. The last of your groceries went to a large group dinner a few nights prior, the pair of you opting for take out after that. You figured you would only get a few groceries for the time being until Johnny could take you down for a full grocery run. 

The door jingled when you walked in, the street oddly empty. You paid no attention to the lack of people around, waving at the store owner who sat at the register behind the counter. You grabbed the small reusable bag and disappeared down the aisles, humming to yourself as you searched for what you needed. 

“Let’s see. If I make kalguktsu, I will need more noodles and vegetables. We have stock still, and I could pick up some prawns for it too. Maybe grab some snacks and something for lunch. Maybe some kimbap…”

You talked to yourself as you placed the desired items in your bag. Making it to the last aisle for your snacks, your eyes ran over the items, searching for anything that sounded good. You kneeled to the floor to look at the lower shelves, placing the bag aside, when the door jingled again. Initially, you paid no mind to it, figuring another customer walked in.

Until you heard a gunshot. 

You collapsed to the side in shock, watching the water canister in the corner get pierced, water leaking onto the ground and flooding it. You covered your mouth in shock, afraid to make a noise. 

“Well, well, Dohyeon,” someone spoke, causing you to shake. “Is anyone else here?”

Your breathing stopped. you glanced towards the end of the aisle, afraid they would hear you or find you. You could feel your hands shaking, tears starting to leak from your eyes. With bated breath, you awaited the owner’s response. 

“No,” he responded confidently, no waiver in his voice. “It’s been slow today. But I guess I know why.”

“Yeah,” the person responded. “Come on in, boss. Coast is clear.”

The door jingled, two pairs of footsteps tapping against the floor. You waited to hear what they would have to say, but what you heard made your heart stop for reasons other than fear.

“You should have known I would find out.”

Through bleary eyes, you glanced up, finding a reflective mirror in the corner of the store. In front of the counter stood four men - four men you knew too well. Johnny and Jaehyun held guns at the owner - Dohyeon - while Mark stood behind the man with familiar red hair. You wanted to cry and sob, but you couldn’t. You were appalled to find Taeyong there, staring down Dohyeon with his own gun.

“You knew those drugs were mine. You were supposed to sell them for us. But no. You had to go and doublecross us and sell the stock to Stray Kids? What kind of profit did you make off that.”

Dohyeon was quiet.

“Yeah, you know I’m fucking pissed. You know better than to cross me. But you did anyway!” Another shot fired, making you jump as a counter behind Dohyeon collapsed. “Now, you’re lucky I’m willing to give you one last chance. I could easily kill you here and now, but you haven’t done us wrong until now. 

“But, it won’t come free. I want you to hand over all of the cash you received from them, plus interest. And I expect the next time we give you something, you make sure to stay selling for us. Your cut will be reduced until you are back in good faith, but it’s better than being dead, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Dohyeon whispered bitterly. 

“You don’t sound very grateful,” Taeyong growled. “Would you prefer I just shoot you here and now? I can make that happen.”

“No, sir.”

“Good.” Mark threw a bag on the counter. “Put the money in the bag. All of it.”

You watched Dohyeon load the bag with money from under the counter, as well at the money from the register to satisfy Taeyong’s demands. The bag was zipped shut, Mark taking it from Dohyeon’s grasp. The owner sat back down, watching the four men.

“Think of this as a warning,” Taeyong sneered. “You agreed to this. You work for me and if I find out you are pulling some shady shit again, I will have you killed in the most gruesome way possible. No one fucks with NCT. Am I clear?”

“Yes…”

“I say am I clear?!”

“Yes sir!”

“Good. And if anyone asks what happened here, we were never here. Some kids vandalized you, or something of the sort. You’re a smart man. That’s obvious by trying to sell to Stray Kids, but not smart enough if you didn’t think you’d be caught.”

Taeyong made his way to the door, Mark in tow. Johnny and Jaehyun followed behind them both, never lowering the guns. Taeyong sent one last glance at the man behind the counter. 

“Pleasure doing business as always.”

When the door closed and the jingling stopped, you dropped your hand, feeling your entire body trembling. After a minute passed, and you were sure they had left, you stood on shaky legs, grabbing the bag from the ground. You stumbled out of the aisle, slipping in the pool of water on your way to the door. Dohyeon said nothing as he watched you slap money onto the counter and rush out the door. You ran down the street with bag in hand, disappearing into the sudden sea of people that flooded the previously vacant area.

Sitting at home awaiting his return was nerve wracking.  The second you got home, you threw yourself into another shower, collapsing to the floor and wailing loudly with sobs. The remainder of the afternoon was spent replaying what happened, and pondering how to confront Taeyong about what you had witnessed. You watched the time tick on, curling into yourself with a blanket on the couch.

Taeyong walked through the door with a smile, dropping his keys on the table by the door, kicking off his shoes and stripping off his red jacket. “Baby, I’m home,” he called happily, making his way into the living room. He expected to find you cooking or watching tv, but let his smile fade when he noticed the silence and you curled up on the couch staring at nothing. “Babe?”

You didn’t respond, worrying the red-haired man. He rushed forward, taking a seat at your feet. His hand ran along your blanket covered leg, pausing when he felt you flinch. Taeyong frowned, tilting his head at you. “Y/N, what’s going on? Are you ok?”

“I saw you…”

“What?” he questioned. “What are you talking about?”

You finally looked up at him. He could immediately tell you had been crying from your red and swollen eyes. “Tell me honestly - what is your job?”

“I…” he started, but stopped, turning away.

“I saw you at the little corner store you took me too and we always shop at.”

He stayed silent.

“Taeyong, I want the truth.”

“I think you already figured it out,” he rasped bitterly before sighing. “If you want out now, I won’t blame you. I won’t hold it against you. And I will make sure that no one comes after you for it as long as you remain quiet about what you know.

“But I… I have lied to you many times. And I’m not proud of that. I honestly should have never dragged you into this, but I couldn’t help myself. I have lied about many things, but I have never lied about my feelings for you. I love you with all my heart, Y/N, and I will do anything to keep you safe.

“But I understand that I have made mistakes by keeping this from you. I never wanted you to be involved, but I should have seen this coming one day. And I’m sorry.”

His gaze was on the floor as he talked, but shot up when your cold hand took his, lacing your fingers together. He stared at you, nervously holding his breath. “I don’t like that you lied about this. That you kept this from me for so long.”

“I know…”

“But, I’m also in too deep,” you murmured. Taeyong gave your hand a squeeze. “I fell in love with you the day I met you and I’ve only gotten deeper since then. I… I don’t want to leave you. I love you too much to leave you.”

“You know I live a dangerous life, right?”

“Yeah, I figured that out,” you told him. “But, we are in this together. I will support you and help you where I can. We’ll just be partners in crime.”

Taeyong bit his lip, running a hand through his red hair until the strands were tousled and sticking up in random directions. “Are you sure you want to get involved in this? I don’t want you to feel pressured to join this lifestyle because of me.”

“I’m sure,” came your meek voice. The man could tell you were scared of the answer, of the path you were agreeing to, but the solid grip on his hand and the fire behind your blown orbs gave him your resolve. “I want to stay by your side. I will help you no matter what.”

“Partners in crime, eh?” he chuckled weakly, smiling weakly at your own giggle in return. 

“Yeah. Partners in crime. If you go down, I go down with you. I’m not leaving your side in this. I know I may not seem like the best candidate for this, but I am a quick learner for whatever you need. Train me for whatever you think you need me for. 

“But going forward, you can’t keep things like this from me. If you want to make this work - to make us work - we need to have this trust. If you are as serious about us as you say you are, and I know you are because I have felt your love and passion, then we need to be open. Which means no lies, no deceit, and most of all, standing by each other’s decisions. We are partners in life, in death, and now, in crime I guess.” 

You paused briefly to let out a breath, watching the man nod at your words. “I won’t deny that I am scared of what I am agreeing to, but I will do what I have to because I want to be with you. Until death do us part.”

Taeyong didn’t say anything. The leader silently crawled onto the couch with you, your body shifting slightly so he could nestle himself between you and the back cushions. His head rested on your breast, one arm looped loosely around your waist. Your hand ran through his ruffled locks, feeling his tense form starting to relax at the soothing motion. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was scared too - not for the work he did, but for your inevitable involvement. 

“I love you. So much…”

His voice was low and muffled, but his words were clear.

“I love you too…”

It made you wonder how a man as soft as the one curled into your side was when you were alone could be so ruthless. You heard him that day threaten the owner of the store, and the thought alone still sent shivers up your spine. But it was just another thing you were going to accept about the mysterious man. 

You were serious when you said to death do you part. You were determined to stand by his side in every situation. He loved you and you loved him. Even though he was a dangerous man, you knew you couldn’t escape.

He had your heart in his hand after all.

Hours later, long after the sun had set and the clock struck midnight, you sat on the same couch, listening to Taeyong pace around behind you. After your confrontation upon his return home, you prepared dinner and had an emotional discussion about everything. He revealed everything to you in that time, laying his life on the table before you. 

He led a small mafia group called NCT. They were one group under a larger organization, and their group controlled the area you lived in. There were twenty-one boys in their unit, breaking into smaller units to manage their territory. Taeyong mentioned there were rival groups that tended to do business in their area, but for the most part, they didn’t clash too much. 

Taeyong, though he led all of the boys in the building, worked mostly with the eight other boys you had spent so much of your time with. The other two groups, Dream and WayV, had members who lead them when Taeyong couldn’t. The building they lived in was owned by their organization. 

And as he spilled everything, including his background and how he got involved coming out of high school, everything seemed to click more given everything you had been through with him since you met. Yet, it didn’t change your feelings for him. It just solidified his trust in you and his desire to have you in his life. 

Now ame the hard part.

“What’s going on boss?” a loud voice chimed as the front door opened widely, eight chipper boys filing through the entryway quickly, led by Mark. “Did something happen with that weapons… call…”

Mark’s voice faded away when the group saw you sitting on the couch and their leader anxiously walking back and forth, his thumb nail in his mouth as he nibbled at it. All of the boys gaped at the sight, unprepared for your presence. Mark seemed the most uncomfortable, seeing as he was about to talk business, assuming that was what they were being called for given the cryptic message they had received that simply said “we have something to discuss. It’s important.”

“Y/N…” Mark stuttered out, panic laced in his voice. “I didn’t know you were here…”

“She lives here,” Yuta pointed out lowly, only to receive a jab in his side from Mark’s elbow.

“Well, just ignore whatever I was saying! It wa a joke really-”

“It’s fine,” Taeyong said, cutting the young boy off. He stopped pacing to face the group, still biting at his nail. “She knows.”

The boys stared at their leader for a minute before bursting into a loud mixture of questions and concerns. Taeyong stared blankly at them until he got fed up with their loud noise, motioning them to silence. The room grew quiet in an instant, all eight of the boys finding places to eat to listen to what Taeyong had to say. 

“She saw us earlier today when we went to handle Dohyeon. She knows who we are and what we do. We’ve already talked about it,” Taeyong muttered.

You stayed silent, waiting for someone to react. But the last thing you expected was Jaehyun, your trusted workout buddy, to stand from his seat across from you and point a gun at your forehead. His eyes narrowed on your form, your stare on him unwavering. Deep inside, you were quaking with fear. You barely registered the remaining boys behind him yelling at him to stand down.

The leader wasn’t having this action. Taeyong was swift to react himself, grabbing a gun he kept in a drawer near the couch and aiming it at Jaehyun. Taeyong’s glare at his friend was sharp, eyes darker than normal. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarled, gritting his teeth to keep from snapping completely. “Stand down, Jae.”

“She knows, Taeyong,” Jaehyun retorted, never moving his gaze to his leader. “What’s to stop her from spilling this to the cops? What’s to stop her from leaving when we least expect it and turning us in? We aren’t the good guys here, and now your little girlfriend knows our secret. I knew this wasn’t a good idea when you started bringing her here. It was only a matter of time. So now, we need to make sure she isn’t going to turn.”

“Jaehyun-”

“I don’t plan to sell you out,” you spoke up, cutting off Taeyong. “If I did, I wouldn’t have come back here and confronted Taeyong about this.”

“So? That means nothing. You could be gathering evidence to bring to the cops-”

“I love Taeyong,” you cut in. “I wouldn’t do that to him, and I wouldn’t do that to you guys. You guys are my friends. We have spent so much time together and I love you guys to death.”

“How can I trust you?” Jaehyun snapped.

“You’ll just have to,” you told him.

“Put the gun down, Jae,” Taeyong told him, watching the man slowly lower the weapon and return to his seat. His own gun was placed aside, placing his hands on your shoulders instead. “We’ve talked about this all night. It hasn’t been easy. But you guys know I love Y/N to death. I don’t want to lose her. And her saying she is willing to accept this part of me, this part of us, means everything to me. I don’t want to lose her.

“So, after talking about it, I’ve agreed to let her join us. She said she wants to help us. But, we wanted to get your guys’ approval for her to join as well. We are a team and I can’t decide this on my own.”

You placed a hand on his that was on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know you guys may be concerned, but I promise you that I am here to help. I don’t want to sell anyone out or see anyone get hurt. I just want to be with Taeyong and all of you.” You paused, feeling Taeyong lean down to kiss the top of your head. “Taeyong and I are partners. I love him with all my heart and I will stand by his side until death do us part. Now, we’ll just be partners in crime too.”

The room grew quiet again, your stomach bubbling with nerves. You weren’t sure what their response would be, or what would happen if they decided you didn’t belong. You feared you would be forced to leave the man you loved because of his occupation.

“So, till death do you part? Does that mean you guys are going to get married finally?” Jungwoo chimed happily, eyes sparkling. “I’ve been waiting for Taeyong to propose for so long. Can I be the flower boy?”

“You’re not even the youngest!” Haechan growled, Jungwoo giving him a smug smile.

“But I’m cuter!”

“Hey, no fighting!” Doyoung scolded the two boys. “They didn’t say anything about marriage yet!”

“We all know it’s coming,” Yuta chuckled, watching your cheeks instantly flush a bright red. You turned to Taeyong, flustered. Taeyong shrugged with an obvious smile.

“They aren’t wrong. One day, you will be mine. But, I plan to propose to you properly.”

“Taeyong!” you screamed, swatting at him. Everyone laughed, Jaehyun excluded. As everyone quieted down, Taeyong spoke back up.

“By a show of hands, how many of you are in favor or letting Y/N join? Before you decide, please know that we will need to train her in what we do.” His eyes turned to Jaehyun for a moment before continuing. “On a count of three. One… two… three…”

Four hands shot up instantly - Mark, Jungwoo, Haechan and Yuta. three hands were slow to follow - Taeil, Doyoung and Johnny. Everyone turned to Jaehyun, who had yet to decide. The man stared deeply at you, mouth in a tight line.

“If she joins, I am in charge of training,” his cold voice cut in. “I don’t trust her in this situation and if things turn south, I will not hesitate to end this deal.” 

You shivered at his words, but glanced up at Taeyong, giving him a nod. Taeyong sighed.

“Fine, but just know that if you turn around and kill her, I will kill you.”

“Deal,” Jaehyun said before raising his hand.

Taeyong smiled slightly before nodding. “That’s it. With everyone’s consent,” he hummed, moving to sit beside you. He kissed your cheek swiftly, your face heating. “Welcome to NCT, Y/N.”

You smiled, bowing to the boys. “Thank you for having me.”

“This is going to be interesting,” Mark hummed, everyone agreeing.

You knew he wasn’t wrong. 

~

If you ever thought you’d be good at something in life, it wasn’t your skill with fighting or with a gun. It wasn’t your natural ability to be intimidating on command. Maybe you thought you’d be good at sewing, or maybe drawing beautiful scenary on paper. 

But no. 

Under Jaehyun’s watchful eye, the glint from the darkness as he watched you punch at a dummy in the weight room before pushing it back completely despite being twice your size, or when your eyes narrowed on a target, the sudden jolt of the gun in your hands leading to a bulls eyes through the forehead of your paper victim, you had managed to fit right now with the mafia boys you had come to love. 

Jaehyun, naturally, still had minor suspicions of you, even after months of one-on-one training to get you in tip top shape to be a member. But, the day you managed to take him down in a spar, leaving you giddy with delight before hopping around the room ecstatically, he started to lay off on his threats to end you so willingly. When you hadn’t spilled the truth to anyone, even when your former boss asked why you were quitting so suddenly, he felt a bit more at ease. When you took training seriously, showing up early and staying extra late to master what he was trying to teach, pushing through pain to continue, he would smile just a bit at your determination.

Taeyong couldn’t have been more proud. He had told you that on many occasions. When he would pop in to assess your progress, he never found a second to be unimpressed. You had grown strong in your time with Jaehyun, making you a force to be reckoned with.

And he couldn’t lie when he said it wasn’t attractive. 

There were the days when he would join in on your hand-to-hand training, after Jaehyun was willing to allow his boss to intervene. There were days he would be in the gun range on the ground floor, hidden deep in the back in a soundproof room, where we would watch you fire shot after shot without missing your mark, sometimes joining for a small competition. He never lost, but you didn’t make it easy when he would get distracted by your beauty.

In those days, Jaehyun would dismiss himself early, trusting his boss and friend in case something were to happen. And he was right - in a sense. Those were the days you found yourself getting frisky with your lover, moaning loudly while he thrust into your wet core. He’d have you pressed against a mat in the training room, or sitting atop the table in the gun range where you’d place your unused weapons, pounding you like an animal in heat, leaving searing hot kisses along your face and throat. You’d have to clean up afterwards, but it was worth it to be with Taeyong in that way; night time was never the best for intimacy when you were both exhausted. 

Part of you was glad that no one ever walked in when you had those moments, but part of you was also convinced that Jaehyun knew what would happen when you were left alone together, and he would warn the others not to disturb you. 

He was cold, but you knew he meant well. 

When you awoke one morning nearly six months into your newfound profession, you found Taeyong dressed in a black turtleneck and tan trench coat, loose blue jeans hugging his slim waist, and his bright red locks slicked back the way he did when he meant business, you knew he was on a job that day. 

“I want to join,” you meekly voiced, catching him off guard. The man whipped around to face you, adjusting his necklaces.

“You’re worn out, baby. And this is a pretty big job today. I don’t want you to get involved,” he voiced, biting at his lower lip. “This jewelry store owner that we leant money to so he could start up his business hasn’t paid, but he’s not a pushover. I don’t want you there in case things turn ugly.”

“I’ll be fine, Yong,” you hushed him, slinging yourself from the bed and rushing to the closet. Taeyong pouted, following after you.

“Babe-”

“No, don’t start,” you huffed at him. “You’ve only sent me on small jobs. I’m ready for something more, Taeyong.”

“I know, but-”

“But nothing!” you yelled. When Taeyong recoiled slightly, you sighed. “I’m sorry, Yongie. But I think I’m ready. I agreed to do this, to join you guys. So, let me do my job. I can help. And if things go sour, I can handle myself. I’m almost as good of a marksman as you. I can sometimes take down Jaehyun in a fight and he’s not an easy target. Yes, I’m tired because of yesterday’s training, but I’m not too tired to go help you with this. So, please-”

He cut you off with a kiss, his plump lips sealing yours. Your body instantly melted into his, wrapping your arms around his torso. His hands were clasped to your hips, tugging you closer. When he pulled away, finding your eyes closed and lips puckered, he chuckled. 

“Shut up and get dressed. We don’t have all day.”

You were left alone, a silent cheer leaving your body before rushing to find an outfit. In a matter of minutes, you were bouncing into the living room, pulling on a loose blouse to go with the tight black jeans. Taeyong’s eyes followed after you from the breakfast bar, licking his lips.

“Do you plan to seduce someone?” he chirped cheekily. “Because I must say, it’s working.”

“Shut up,” you scowled at him, trying to hide the blush and smile on your face while trekking to the front door. You picked up a pair of sleek heels - ones that Taeyong gifted you one day - and turned to the red haired man, giving a sultry wink. “Now, shall we get going, big boy? We have a job to do.”

“I’m starting to regret agreeing to this. You’re gonna be the death of me before we ever get to the store.”

You giggled, pulling on your shoes and slipping out the door. Taeyong closely followed, taking your hand on the way to the elevator and to the garage. Johnny and Mark were waiting, as per usual for things like this, but the look of surprise on their faces when they saw you at their boss’ side made you chuckle. They didn’t question, Johnny simply opening the door so you and Taeyong could slide into the back. The tall man took his place at the wheel, Mark bouncing in the passenger seat as the car rolled from its spot onto the crowded street.

On the drive, you were briefed more in depth about what was going on. Mark, who was busy loading ammo into an arsenal of guns, passed two back, Taeyong tucking one into his jeans and handing you the other. Your heart pounded, looking down at the gun in your hand. It felt heavy in your grip. Despite the training, and the few things you had done for Taeyong, you had not actually used the weapon on someone. Would today be the day? You couldn’t say, but something in your gut said today wouldn’t be a good day. Bile rose in your throat at the worrisome feeling that lingered inside.

The street was near desolate when you arrived, the four of you sliding out of the car and approaching the jewelry store. No one was inside when you entered, a small bell ringing upon your entrance. The store owner, an older man named Youngjae, sitting behind the counter turned his head up with a smile that quickly vanished when he realized who had entered. Taeyong approached him confidently, you and Mark on his tail. The young blonde boy carried a large duffle bag in his left hand. Johnny guarded the door, flipping the sign to closed, securing the lock, and pulling down the sun visor so people couldn’t see what was happening so clearly. 

“Time to pay up, Youngjae,” Taeyong spoke clearly, skipping the theatrics and jumping straight to the point. Youngjae’s gaze on the young mafia leader didn’t falter, his lips sealed in a tight line. “Are you deaf? You’re lucky we waited until now to come collect. You are nearly six months overdue on that loan for this shop. And from what I’ve heard, you’ve been doing rather well for yourself.”

Taeyong walked around the store, picking up some necklaces on display that had diamonds that shone brightly, trailing some fingers along the sapphire bracelets, and finally stopping at the engagement rings. He picked one up that had a square cut diamond in the center, two smaller ones adorning either side of it. He seemed to hum in approval, grabbing a velvet box from a stand and turning to Mark. 

“Pack up some of the jewelry. We can use it as part of the payment.” Youngjae went to move when the younger male moved to collect from open stands, Taeyong quick to pull his weapon on the man. The older gentleman rose both hands, stilling in his movements, his stoic face unchanged. “Don’t even think about it.”

When Mark finished collecting what he deemed most valuable, he placed the bag in front of Youngjae. “Money,” the boy spoke.

When he didn’t move, Taeyong’s eyes narrowed. “You heard him,” the boss sneered angrily, narrowing his eyes. “All of the money in your safe deposit under the counter - I know it’s there because we installed it - and in your register. We’ll take that for now. If you continue to avoid payment, we will come back for the bank account. Sound fair?”

Youngjae continued to stay unmoving.

In a flash, you pulled out your own gun, clicking the safety off and aiming directly at his forehead. Your eyes were dark, making the older man visibly swallow. You were mildly thankful for your quick makeup job, making you somewhat more intimidating than your normal soft exterior. 

“I won’t say it again,” you huffed. “Put the money in the bag, or I will shoot you. I don’t have time to play this game with you, so if you value your life, i suggest you do what you’ve been told, pay up when you need to, and move on with your life. You made a deal with the devil for this, so it’s time to pay up. What do you say, sweetie?”

Youngjae silently nodded, opening the register and pulling handfuls of bills out. He followed by kneeling down on the floor to unlock the safe deposit box, pulling out more wads of bills that were all placed into the duffle bag. When he was finished, he backed away slowly, hands still in the air.

“That’s what I thought,” you smiled eerily, nodding at Mark to grab the bag. Taeyong smirked at himself, waving at Johnny to unlock the door. Mark left first, Johnny following to bring the car forward. “Pleasure doing business sweetheart. Don’t let this happen again.”

Blowing in a quick kiss, you made your way to the door, heels clicking and hips swaying. Taeyong followed after you, keeping an eye on the owner before slipping out of the door. You both piled back into the car, the vehicle quick to disappear down the road.

But what you had both missed in that moment was Youngjae pressing the small panic button on the underside of his countertop. His eyes traveled to the small tv on the side of his counter that showed security footage of the car you had gotten into, the man narrowing on the license plate. When his phone rang, police on the other line, he picked up.

“I’ve just been robbed by the mafia. I have their plate number. It’s…”

The events went unbeknownst to you on your way back to the penthouse, Taeyong’s hand on your thigh. He placed a kiss to your ear, nipping it lightly. “That was hot,” he whispered. “I never thought I’d be so turned on hearing you talk like that.”

“Is that so?” you hummed, turning to face him. His eyes were dark and lustful, making you wiggle in your seat. His lips curled up, giving a toothy grin.

“Guys, take care of the goods,” he voiced when Johnny pulled into the garage. You were nearly yanked from the car before it could come to a complete stop, Taeyong lifting you into his arms and carrying you away. Mark and Johnny watched you squeal loudly, cringing when they saw Taeyong smack your backside on his way to the elevator.

“I didn’t need to see that,” Mark mumbled, Johnny nodding in agreement.

The moment you were pushed through the penthouse door, you were dropped onto the couch, shoes and blouse discarded immediately. Taeyong went to pounce on your, narrowly missing your escaping form into your shared bedroom. His huff of annoyance could be heard as you ran into the bathroom, pulling off your jeans and undergarments as you went. You disappeared into the glass shower before Taeyong could join you, starting the hot water up. 

Taeyong’s eyes narrowed on your now wet form, watching you make faces at him through the glass. Your form was bare and dripping, and adding that to the memory of early, he was twitching already. The tan coat had been discarded on the bed before he joined you in the bathroom, but he didn’t hesitate to shed the turtleneck and jeans as well. The door was shut, and the glass door was opened, the man appearing at your side.

Immediately, you were tugged into a searing kiss, your body melting into his grasp under the waterfall of droplets that cascaded down your forms. He didn’t bother to ask for permission, his tongue bypassing your lips to attack the inside of your mouth. His hands gripped harder to your hips, veins running along up his hands and along his arms. His head tilted to the side to press perfectly against you, his mouth molding into yours without issue.

He pulled away for air, the steam from the shower making it harder to breath. Taeyong eyes were darker than normal, lust slated within the brown orbs. His tongue passed over his swollen lips, tracing yours slightly from the close proximity, earning a small whimper from within your throat.

“You were wonderful out there today,” he hummed lowly, nipping at your skin until he reached your ear. “I wasn’t expecting you to jump in the way you did. And you way you handled everything?” He paused for a moment, his breath hot on your ear. “It was pretty fucking hot.”

His words made you shiver, a mewl of delight piercing the sound of falling water. Taeyong pushed back his now wet hair, biting at his lip. 

“I should reward you for it. How does that sound?”

You didn’t even respond. His face was simply tugged back to yours, eagerly kissing his plump lips once more. Your hands cupped his cheeks, taeyong pulling you taut against his body. His steps moved forward; yours moved back. You found yourself pressed against the chillingly cold wall of the shower, grimacing in the midst of the sloppy connection and arch your back away from the steely frost against your skin. It only pushed you further into the mafia boss’ needy body, feeling the heat that radiated from his skin.

His lips traveled from your ear, down your cheek and to your neck, attacking it with suckling kisses that left dark red blotches ebbed on your skin. Your hands on his cheeks slid up to his wet red locks, scratching at his scalp happily. Your body burned under his light touches, feeling his fingers ghosting along your arms to your chest, fondling your breasts for a moment before his lips replaced his diligent digits to suckle at the hardened nipples, finally sliding down between your soaked forms to to with your moist pussy. 

The combination of his long fingers alternating between circling your clit and prodding at your core, and his gentle cites and kisses to your sensitive mounds sent your head reeling back, loud moans unceremoniously filling the air. Taeyong’s wicked grin against your chest was obvious almost as much as his increased actions, speeding up rubbing at your nub and popping his lips against your chest when he would tug at the buds.  

“Yong,” you whimpered at him, squirming in his grasp. Your stomach churned with arousal and delight, the feeling of his fingers sliding into your tight core adding to the stars you were already feeling. The thrusts of the two digits made you body jolt, his hand quick and nimble. His thumb pressed to your clit as he moved, the man grinning at your face that was twisted with ecstasy. “Oh god, baby. Yes.”

“You like that?” he mused, kissing his way back up to your face. “Or, do you like my cock better?”

“At this point, anything,” you managed to get out, breath picking up the closer you got to your end. “I love you so much, Taeyong.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmured, kissing you lightly. “I love you too, baby.”

He pulled his fingers back before you could finish, a whining groan escaping you. “You love me but you don’t let me finish? How dare you-”

In a flash, you were spun around, your eyes meeting the wall, barely able to make out the condensation dripping along the white porcelain. Your hands pressed to the surface to keep from falling over, fingers curling against it. The feeling stung against your palms, your hands cold in contrast to the wet wall heated from the water that rained around you. The heat of a body pressed against your back, searing kisses placed along your neck and shoulder, sent shivers along your spine. Strong but delicate hands roamed along your form, hips rutting against your backside slowly, before your right leg was hiked up swiftly. 

“Are you ready for me?” he whispered seductively into your ears, lips tracing along the shell delicately.

“Yes, please,” you mewled at him, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. “Please, Taeyong.”

The low hum heard amongst the shower left your mind blank, anticipation flooding your veins. The slow rut of his hips was agonizing, and it wasn’t until he finally slid into you with one swift thrust that you felt full. A loud moan left your lips, your forehead placed against the wall happily. His thrusts began quick, wasting no time with slamming himself into your tight center and shoving your body further against the wall. 

“Oh Tae,” you let out. The familiar curl of his grin against the side of your head was unmistakable at the sound you made. 

“God, you always feel so good,” he rasped lowly, jutting himself harder than before and grinding against you harshly. The deep grunt he let out was thrilling to hear. “How did I get so lucky with you?”

“I think it’s me that got lucky,” you managed to say through plants, jolting when he resumed his rapid thrusts. “I’m so lucky:”

Taeyong seemed to speed up from your broken words, his cock pistoning in and out of you swiftly. His hips clapped against your ass, your leg hiked up bits at a time that made the angle deeper and his cock hit spots that made you shake. Every push into you, he found that one spot that had you moaning his name pathetically, chanting it like a mantra. 

The water was beginning to go cold by the time you were convulsing from his thrusts, feeling his hand wrap around your throat the closer you got to your high. You begged him softly to let you cum, the man commanding you to wait until he was ready to fill you to the brim with his own milky essence. His lips trailed down your neck nipping at the skin with his teeth and giving a gentle squeeze that made your sight go white with a rainbow of stars for a moment. 

“Yong, please.”

“Hold on, baby,” he kept saying, gasping the more he did. His thrusts were growing sloppy and forced the longer he went, his grip on your body hardening. With his forehead on your shoulder, he managed to utter a quick, “I’m almost there,” before grunting loudly.

THe last of his thrusts were the hardest and deepest, his cock lingering inside your wet pussy as he released. His milky seed spilled into you in bursts of warmth, painting your inner walls in the creamy white substance. His release sent your own into a fit of spasms, your walls tightening and convulsing around his length. They hugged at his thick shaft, coating it in your release while milking his own. Taeyong’s movements slowed to a gentle rhythm, letting your two forms meld into one against the wall and your cum mixing together deep inside of you.

Fingers pressed against the side of your face, tilting your head to the side. Your hazy gaze landed on the deep brown irises of Taeyong, a warm smile on his lips. Slowly, he leaned forward, remaining buried deep inside of you as he pressed a firm and loving kiss to your lips, conveying every ounce of love he felt into the connection. The frozen droplets of water did nothing to you against the heat of your bodies and the smoldering kiss you shared. 

And as his lips dragged down against yours, you couldn’t help but to smile.

With your body dried and dressed in onee of Taeyong’s baggy, long-sleeved shirts and a pair of jeans, you walked into the living room, headed for the kitchen. As you opened the fridge to find something to make for dinner, two arms wrapped around your form, a giggle erupting from your lips. Taeyong snuggled into your neck, lifting you off your feet and kicking the fridge shut.

“Taeyong, no! I’m hungry!” you scowled through a laugh, flailing in the man’s arms. Your actions proved futile, Taeyong carrying you to the couch and falling on his back atop it, placing you on his lap. 

“I know. But I wanted to spend some more time with you,” he pouted, the look adorable in your opinion. His fingers played with the hem of the shirt you wore, dipping under it to trace his fingers along your side. “Have I ever mentioned how beautiful you are?”

“Maybe once or twice,” you joked, leaning forward to place a butterfly kiss to his nose. 

Taeyong sent you a shimmering smile, pulling you into a harder kiss. His tongue bypassed your lips instantly, the kiss growing hotter by the second. Your eyes slipped closed, your body eagerly rolling against his. A deep groan was muffled in his throat, hands pushing desperately at your shirt until your chest was exposed. That was the only time he broke the kiss - so he could attach his lips to your perk nipples, tongue flicking them happily.

“Tae,” you moaned loudly. 

You pushed against his chest to sit upright, rolling against him harder and faster. Your jeans pushed into your aching core, feeling his growing hard on through his own pair of black denim bottoms. His hands gripped at your chest, hooded eyes watching you grind against him. Your eyes slid shut, head falling back as his name left your mouth.

“Tae,” you whimpered, cracking open your eyes and turning to look at him. But your movements slowed, much to his dismay. The male under you whimpered and pushed up into you, eager to continue. “Taeyong, what is that?”

The mafia leader ceased his movements, propping himself up on his elbows and turning to follow your gaze. His brow creased at the flashing blue and red lights that reflected slightly on the window.

“The fuck?” he murmured, moving you from his lap and rushing to the window. “Why the fuck are the cops here?”

“The cops?” you whispered to yourself, eying the man you love. Before you could question him more, muffled gunshots could be heard through the building. 

Taeyong was quick to rush to the door, grabbing a gun on the way and sliding on his shoes. You jumped up after him, stumbling as you pulled on your own shoes and following after him. The noise in the hallway was louder than in the penthouse, screaming and shouting growing louder as your bounded down the stairwell. Exhaustion was setting in from the numerous stairs you rushed down, but neither of you stopped.

“Taeyong, wait!” you called at the man who refused to slow down. “Don’t rush in there! You could get hurt!”

Seething with anger, he didn’t listen, pushing open the door to the ground floor as soon as he hit the bottom step. You barely could register someone yelling Taeyong’s name and a shot being fired before he was stumbling back, a hand on his shoulder. 

“Fuck!” he yelled out in pain, pulling his hand back to see the crimson blood coating his fingers. 

“Baby, are you alright?” you asked, pulling him further from the door and seating him on the steps of the stairwell. Your own hand trembled, placed on his and feeling the blood slide between your fingers. “Shit, you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” he grimaced, wincing while adjusting how he was sitting. 

“You’re far from, sir,” you told him, ripping off one of the sleeve of the shirt you wore and wrapping it around his arm. “This will help for now but…”

“It’s fine,” he said again. “We need to get out there and meet with the others. I saw them briefly when I opened the door.”

“But what if they shoot again?” you asked, your voice meek.

“I will protect you,” he said, letting out a deep breath before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Stay low and you’re going to go left. Jaehyun and Yuta are behind the reception desk.”

“Alright,” you let out. 

“Don’t worry. I will be right behind you.”

Nodding, you cracked open the door, crouching low. The flashing of the police vehicles was brighter when you entered the lobby, finding the once beautiful area destroyed. Dead bodies of the staff that were employed by the NCT mafia to man their building were laid in various areas of the room, blood pooling around their unfortunate bodies after being caught in the crossfire. Furniture was ridden with bullet holes, upholstery exposed, and tables and desks having their wood flaked and chipped. 

Jaehyun was quick to aid you, pulling you behind the front desk before helping Taeyong over. Yuta, Jungwoo and Mark were with him, heavily breathing and reloading their guns with the limited ammo they had. 

“What the hell is going on?” Taeyong snarled at no one in particular. 

“The cops, obviously,” Yuta cheekily joked, his laughter ceased with Taeyong’s glare.

“Obviously,” came the leader’s retort. “Did the police say anything?”

“No,” Mark told him, leaning against the desk. “I can only assume we were ratted out after what happened earlier.”

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Taeyong yelled. “Shit!”

“Yong, calm down,” you told him, taking his shaking hand. This seemed to calm him slightly.

“Where is everyone else?”

“Already sent off to the escape tunnels,” Jungwoo mumbled, eyes darting to a wall to the right. Taeyong had told you of the secret passage for escape in case of emergencies. “We told them that we would hold them off so they could get to the cars and escape.”

Taeyong nodded, running a hand through his red locks. His mouth opened, only to be silenced by the squeal of a microphone outside.

“This is the Seoul Police. We have the place surrounded. Come out with your hands up, or we will be forced to fire!”

The boys seemed adamant on fighting, telling you to stay down as they opened fire at the door and windows, the police firing back with each shot. The ring of the shots made your head hurt, your hands cupping your ears in an attempt to shield them. Your eyes squeezed closed, curling in on yourself and only hoping that a stray shot didn’t hit anyone. 

When the firing came to a stop, and the boys ducked down, thankfully unharmed, they were all cursing. Jaehyun pushed at the desk, dropping his now empty gun.

“We’re fucked,” he growled, ruffling his dark locks. 

“No,” Taeyong said firmly. “You guys go and escape. I will keep them distracted.”

“What, no-” Yuta began to protest, but Taeyong shook his head.

“I’m your leader. I swore to protect you all. I will go down fighting for my family.”

Yuta, Jungwoo, Mark and Jaehyun nodded, Marking peering around the desk. “We have a chance now. They aren’t looking in that way. If we can make it to the passage, we’re fine.”

“Good, then go,” Taeyong ordered, turning to look at you. “You need to go with them.”

“No,” you firmly said. 

“That wasn’t an offer, Y/N,” Taeyong huffed. “Please, I need you to go. I need you to be safe-”

“I know it wasn’t an offer. I know what you’re thinking, but my answer is still no. I told you a long time ago when I learned what you do that I would be by your side until the end. I will be by your side until death do us part. I’m not leaving you to handle this on your own, Lee Taeyong. If you go down, I’m going with you.”

“Y/N,” he started, glancing at the others. They all held looks of concern, but chose to say nothing when their leader nodded hesitantly. The four men gave you a soft look before they darted for the passageway, the wall sliding open and closed quickly, their forms gone.

Taeyong sighed, leaning his back against the desk. He took the gun from his jeans that he grabbed on his way out of the penthouse, checking the ammo he had. “Not much left, eh?”

“Never thought this would be the end, did you?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. Taeyong smiled for a second before becoming serious. 

“You should have left while you could…”

“You know that wasn’t a choice.” A hand slid into his.”We are partners in crime after all. If you go down, I’m going down with you. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, and I will never regret it.”

A small smile graced the man’s face, lacing his fingers with yours. With a reassuring squeeze and the click of his gun in his right hand, he glanced to his side. 

“I honestly knew this day was going to come eventually. I knew I would go down one way or another,,” he rasped, tucking the gun once more into the back of his jeans. His eyes locked on yours before continuing, “But I’m glad that I have you by my side.”

You smiled at him before placing a tender kiss to his lips, your free hand carefully placed on his bandaged shoulder. His eyes closed, relishing in the feeling and taste of your lips on his. The screams from outside the building fell on deaf ears. The threats made went unheard. In those ten seconds, it was just the both of you, embraced by the calm emotions shared between your forms. Silent tears slid down your cheeks from fear and sadness, knowing your impending fate, but he wiped them away gently after pulling away. His lips dragged down yours as he backed away solemnly, wishing this wouldn’t be the end.

“I love you,” he mumbled just loud enough to be heard. 

“I love you too,” you repeated, taking his hand and preparing to stand and face the gallows of red and blue lights flashing through broken windows and bent blinds. “I always will, Taeyong.”

Together you stood, lifting your hands as you walked towards the door. You spied the barrel of guns aimed at you as you stopped at the door, staring down the cops. Their words fell deaf on your ears waiting for Taeyong to pull the gun and proceed with his last hurrah. Your heart was pounding, hands clammy.

This was the end. 

Just as Taeyong reached for his gun, smoke filled the area, shouts and screams and shots firing around the blinded area. Taeyong gripped your hand, tugging you back into the lobby of the building. He rushed towards the secret passage holding your hand tightly. As the wall slid open, he turned back to the doorway, spotting a figure in dark blue with a gas mask on watching them. You turned to follow his gaze, spotting the figure gesture before disappearing into the smoke.

“Who was that?” you asked quietly.

Taeyong pushed against the small of your back to force you into the passage, the wall sliding shut behind him. “Heechul.”

“Who’s that?”

“Our older brother mafia,” Taeyong hummed, smiling giddily. “Super Junior.”

“They came to our rescue?”

“Yeah,” the leader mumbled. “The others must have called them as soon as it was safe.”

“Well, I’m glad then…”

Taeyong chuckled, pulling you into a hug despite the pain he felt in his injured arm. His face nestled into your hair, a low sob escaping his throat. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“We’re both safe.”

“Well, not yet I guess,” Taeyong said. “We need to go. Now.”

“Alright…”

Taeyong took your hand once more, the two of you running down the darkened hall, hoping that nothing would find you at the end.

~

You hummed a song softly, staring out a crack in the window at the barren road in front of the motel. Your fingers ran soothingly through the dyed black locks of your lover, who was curled up in your lap. Turning to look down at him, your own dyed locks fell against your cheeks, ticking his nose. A smile grew on his face, eyes remaining closed. 

You had taken refuge in a small motel far from the city, waiting for things to die down. The boys were scattered and in hiding, just like yourselves. Disposable phones were the only way to keep in contact to make sure everyone was safe still. There was no telling how long you were to live like this, but you didn’t mind it. 

“Y/N,” Taeyong sang, finally opening his chocolate colored orbs to look up at you. “I love you.”

He took your hand that was previously resting on his chest into his, playing  with the square cut diamond ring you wore. It was the same one he took from the shop that day. A few days after your escape, after Taeyong had been patched up for his injury by the Super Junior mafia and everyone separated for protection, going into hiding, he pulled out the box from his jeans pocket. 

“I was going to propose with this that night. I had everything planned - a nice dinner, a big speech, and a night to make love to you - but it all got fucked up. I would understand if you didn’t want to be with me,” he had said while laying in bed, fiddling with the box. 

“You’re stupid if you think after all of this that I would say no and leave you. Till death do we part, remember?”

You happily wore the ring still, never once taking it off since he slid it on your finger. It wasn’t your ideal proposal, but you weren’t going to argue if it meant you got to be with him. Watching him fiddle with it now, a grin on his soft, handsome features, left your heart fluttering. 

“I love you too, Lee Taeyong,” you hummed. “And remember, I will always be by your side.”

“Partners until the end?” He asked. You smiled leaning down to kiss him softly.

“Naturally.”

[solomon-tozer]

Fitzconte + 6/Sharing drinks?

Fitzconte - 6: Sharing Drinks

James can see that Francis isn't convinced by his drink. He eyes it suspiciously, and James can't help grinning as he nudges softly against Francis's side. "You'll like it!" he promises.

It is, after all, thai milk tea.

Francis just hums warily, tilting the cup and contemplating it. After another few moments, he carefully tries it, his expression blank for a moment. Taking a sip of his own drink, James smiles around the straw when he sees Francis's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"See!"

Almost immediately, Francis schools his expression, but there's a playful glint in his eye.

"You can't tell me you didn't like that."

"It's not terrible," Francis admits, already having another sip. "I still don't understand the purpose of the balls though."

"Really?" James grins. "You need me to explain the purpose of the balls?"

Francis doesn't answer. James, already seeing where his attention has fallen, holds his drink out for Francis to try.

"It's quite sweet," he says needlessly, as if the bright colour and scent of mango doesn't give it away. And it is sweet, but not as sweet as James would usually order, because he knows that Francis enjoys sampling a bite of whatever James has, taking a little sip of whatever drink he buys to see what 'unpalatable adventure' James is on.

Francis smiles softly as he pulls away, and James finds his heart swelling a little. "It could be worse."

It could also be better—sweeter—but that hardly matters. James takes another sip, enjoying it even more now that he knows Francis likes it. "Shall I tell you about my balls?" he grins.

Francis raises an eyebrow in question, returning to his own drink. "Something new I need to know?"

"Oh, absolutely," James reassures him. "They're popping."

At that, Francis starts chuckling, shaking his head and nudging against James. "You're beyond ridiculous." The taste of watermelon and coconut should, Dundy knows, be wrong, but it's sweet and pleasant against his tongue as he steals a sip of James's drink, a hint of lychee seeping through from the bubbles at the bottom. His own is a simple mango and honey combination, a favourite after pineapple, but everyone knows that pineapple and coconut go well together.

The taste of watermelon and coconut should, Dundy knows, be wrong, but it's sweet and pleasant against his tongue as he steals a sip of James's drink, a hint of lychee seeping through from the bubbles at the bottom. His own is a simple mango and honey combination, a favourite after pineapple, but everyone knows that pineapple and coconut go well together.

"Good?" James checks, smiling hopefully.

"Interesting," Dundy agrees. He leaves the drinks alone, turning to the pastry they probably shouldn't have, but are going to enjoy anyway. He breaks it in half, offering James a portion and receiving a piece of James's food in return. "Perhaps milk tea would go with the cake a little better?"

"Too sweet for you, darling?" James grins, reaching out to brush a crumb that Dundy is sure doesn't exist from the corner of Dundy's mouth.

"Of course not." After all, they're both well-matched in their love of sweet, heavy flavours. Why be subtle when you can have the full force of something? Dundy kisses James's thumb, and then returns to his food. It washes down nicely with a sip of James's drink, followed by another taste of his own.

"Do you think peach would be too boring?" James muses.

"What with?"

Pulling his phone out, James scans the menu, pastry in one hand, an endearing look on his face. "Bubblegum?"

Dundy can't imagine it. He shrugs. "We could try it next time?"

"Let's," James smiles, and then breaks off another piece of his food to give to Dundy. "Here."

The offering safely on its way to his mouth, Dundy grins at James, grateful for all they share together.

[thiswasinevitableid]

62. you set off the fire alarm and I have a test tomorrow, and I might strangle you

Sternclay, sfw, please!

Why do fire alarms only go off in March? The one time Stern set one off (he fell asleep studying and the dinner he was reheating started smoking) it was in that endless stretch of time where the snow is no longer festive but will keep falling for at least two more months.

More importantly, who is responsible for interrupting his carefully planned out six hours of sleep before his midterm at eight this morning?

He stands in the freezing cold with the building’s other three occupants; the single man who looks like he stars in lumberjack porn and the girlfriends who live on the ground floor.

“Sorry” The other man mumbles, “I was making doughnuts and the oil I was using got too hot without me noticing.”

Stern runs a hand through his hair and keeps his voice low, “Why were you cooking with hot oil at three in the morning?”

“When I can’t sleep, I bake.”

“Can I suggest a less flammable hobby in the future?”

“Hey man, it was an accident. And it’s not my fault they stuck the fire alarm too high up for me to get to it before it called the fire department.”

“Too high? You’re taller than I am and I can reach mine.”

“My ceilings are higher and it was tucked between the cabinets and the roof.”

“Oh yeah, ours is in a super-weird place too.” Aubrey, one of the ground-floor neighbors, pats the offenders arm, “it’s okay Barclay, it’s just a little smoke.”

“That may be the case for you three, but I have an exam that’s worth thirty percent of my grade in six hours and I need my goddamn sleep.”

“Yeesh, man, chill out. They’re already waving us back in.” Aubrey points to the door of the three story house.

“I timed everything to optimize my sleep schedule so it actually is a big deal.”

Barclay glowers at him, “Look, I said sorry. But maybe get used to the fact the world doesn’t run on your schedule, mr. control freak, and fucking get over it.”

Stern keeps a smile flat as he bites out, “go to hell” and heads upstairs to salvage what’s left of his schedule.

-----------------------------------------------------------

The crash from downstairs comes at nine p.m; he has a huge day at his internship tomorrow, but Stern doesn’t hear any sounds after it, and he is not about to let a neighbor die on his watch.

“Barclay? Are you okay?” He puts his ear to the door, the heater drowning out all ambient noise.

“Nope, not really, agh, fuck, the doors locked, lemme try to stand-”

“Stay put.” He runs upstairs, grabs his wallet, and uses his debit card to trick the lock, “Shit, what happened?”

Barclay is clutching his forehead, blood between his fingers, and his ankle is swelling. “I got really dizzy, caught my foot on the couch and then my forehead on the table on the way down. Ow, fuck, it better not be broken” he growls as Stern kneels to look at his foot, “I’ve got a shift in six hours.”

“I can’t tell. You should get to a hospital; if it’s injured and you try to work on it, you might have an even worse fall.”

“Fuck, I’m not even sure I can afford the ambulance, let alone the fucking E.R.”

He knows Dani and Aubrey are out, “Any family in town, or a boyfriend?”

“No, if there I woulda called them.” He snaps, then tries for a slow inhale, “sorry, it just, it hurts-”

“I can take you in my car, that’ll be one less worry.” Stern helps Barclay up, gets him to his sedan, then tells him to hold tight while he gets something for his head. He ends up grabbing the first clean fabris he finds, which is how Barclay ends up in the E.R while holding a “Roswell, NM” tank-top to his forehead.

“Sorry to ruin your, uh, souvenir?” He mumbles as they wait for the doctor.

“It’s for a good cause. Besides, I know how to get bloodstains out of fabric.”

“That...that makes you sound like a serial killer.”

“If I were a serial killer I would wear things that could stain.” Stern winces, “sorry, I read too many true crime books.”

“I just don’t have the stomach for them. I like fictional mysteries but real ones?” he shivers, “makes me think an axe murderer is gonna break into my place. I mean, you did it with a credit card.”

“If you’d had the chain thrown it might have been another story. “

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Barclay shifts in the plastic seat, “you, uh, you don’t have to hang around. Know you got a rigid schedule.”

Joseph runs a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry for being so annoyed last week when you set off the alarm. I’m not always great at handling changes.”

“To be fair, doughnuts probably weren’t the best stress baking choice.”

“Did they turn out?”

“Nah. I’ll have to try ‘em another time. Did, uh, did your test go okay?”

“Yes. I, um, I got a perfect score.”

Barclay laughs, the sound like warm honey, and Stern blushes at looking so deeply nerdy in front of someone with a smile like that.

“Mr. Cobb? We’re ready to see you.”

The bearded man gives an slightly awkward wave as he follows the nurse through the double doors. Stern returns the gesture, pulls up the chess app on his phone, and settles in to wait until his neighbor is done.

-------------------------------------

Barclay comes out his nap the scrchh of a brush on tile. His first thought is that he’s so late for work he’s unavoidably fucked. His second one is who the fuck is in his bathroom?

His ankle twinges, jogging his memory; he got back from the hospital at 11:30, no stitches needed on his head but bedrest required for his ankle. He’d been contemplating how to convince his manager to let him shift from the warehouse to somewhere he could sit. Joseph raised an eyebrow and asked for his phone while telling him to go get into bed. All Barclay overheard was a polite, steely voice mentioning the labor laws in Dane County and how it’d be a shame if someone were to arrange an OSHA spot check. The last thing he recalls before falling asleep was Joseph telling him he had the next day off.

That doesn’t explain the cleaning sounds, though.

“Oh, you’re up.” Joseph pokes his head in from the hall. His hair is coming loose from his usual slicked-down style and he’s in a V-neck and sweatpants instead of the suit Barclay sees him in most days, “I hope I didn’t wake you; since you gave me the spare key I thought I’d check on you when I got back from my internship and leave you some take-out from the Thai place around the corner--you said the green curry was your favorite--but then I thought I should wait until you got up to see if you needed anything, so I, um, I cleaned your tub while I waited for you to wake up.”

Barclay isn’t sure what part of that is the most baffling. Or the most touching.

“Why the tub?” He eases his legs over so he’s sitting on the edge of the bed.

“It’s satisfying. And I, um, I clean when I’m stressed.” He wipes his hands on the rag in his front pocket, “I was worried about you, and my internship was murder today. They’re mounting a case against one of the biggest employers in the state and everyone’s on edge.”

“Heh, kinda makes me glad I work at WalMart.” Barclay takes the crutch Joseph offers him and hobbles into the kitchen, “oh, uh, if you want to try some cake, there’s leftover cinnamon spice cake in the fridge.”

“I think I will, thank you.” He bends into the fridge and wow has his ass always been that nice, “can I grab you a drink from in here?”

“One of those pre-bottled Kahlua things in the door; have ‘em for a friend but one sounds good right now.” He watches Joseph open it for him, setting it down before he pulls out Barclay’s chair for him. Normally, the kind of fussing and light ordering around Joseph has directed at him makes him bristle. This last day, it just made him feel safe and cared about.

He could get used to this.

----------------------

“Good lord, we’ve even got a flood warning.” Joseph sets down his phone as rain attempts to pummel the house to dust, “Some days I wish we lived closer to one of the lakes but this is not one of them. Should we check to see if Dani and Aubrey need any emergency supplies for if we have to shelter here? I always keep more than I need.”

“Nah, Dani’s got a strong self-sufficiency streak; got her a bucket emergency kit for Christmas last year.” Barclay pops the cork on the Pinot Grigio they got for dinner, “and I don’t think they forgot your semi-drunk promise that if they ever had to run from a flood they had full permission to break open your front door to be safe on the third floor.”

“I meant it, drunk or no.” Joseph takes down the plates and portions out the carbonara; he’s been trying to cook when he has time, both because he likes it and because it gives him and Barclay something to talk about. Not that they need the help.

Things changed after the trip to the E.R; Barclay would bring Joseph fresh cookies or pie. Joseph would offer Barclay rides when their schedules overlapped. Barclay introduced him to his favorite trivia night spot. Joseph took some of his cookies to a worker-owned bakery where a former co-student worked, which led to Barclay getting a new job.

Now they see each other almost every day, whether that’s watching movies on Barclay’s cramped couch or joining Dani and Aubrey for board game night.

He’s pleased with how the pasta turned out, even more so with the fact that when their legs bump together beneath the table, Barclay doesn’t pull away.

They’re on the couch, chatting about the recurring themes in ghost movies, when the storm starts in earnest. The sky is so dark it may as well be nine at night, the lighting and thunder performing a cacophonous two-man show across it. The closer the thunder gets, the more Barclay tenses.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah” a thunderclap makes him jump, “I know it’s silly but I fucking hate thunderstorms, I have since I was a kid.” He chuckles, “my mom would always end up making a pillow fort for me to hide in.”

“We could do that now.” He offers, tapping his foot against Barclay’s own.

“Know this might be hard to believe, but I wasn’t always six-two.” The other man teases.

“Don’t count me out just yet. Wait here.”

It takes some precarity and most of his thumb-tacks, but soon he’s waving Barclay to come join him.

“Holy shit” Barclay laughs as he sees the bed and part of the floor in Joseph’s tiny bedroom are curtained in blankets, “do you ever half-ass stuff?”

“No one can ever prove I haven’t.”

“Uh huh.” Barclay climbs into the fort, “that’s Joseph speak for ‘no.’”

Joseph plugs in his UFO lights and follows him in, “I’ve failed plenty of times.”

“Not on this. Man, this is gr-” A thunderclap makes him jump, nearly knocking one blanket down, “uh, maybe if I…” He lays on the bed, Joseph deciding it’s the least awkward option to join him in that position.

“You really didn’t have to do this.” The green of the lights add a charming tint to Barclay’s eyes.

“I wanted to.”

His friend looks away, keeps his gaze on his feet as he murmurs, “How come you’re always so nice to me?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“It’s, uh, it’s not because you want something from me?”

“Of course not. Barclay,” he touches the cooks arm, “anything you’re thinking is a favor with an ulterior motive....well, it isn’t. It’s something I did to look out for you.”

“What if I, uh, I didn’t think it was favor hunting and was, uh, a different word that started with “F’?”

This time, when the thunder sounds, Barclay nestles closer to him.

“Oh, Barclay” he drapes a protective arm over his waists, “I didn’t mean it to be. At least, most of the time. There were, um, sometimes when I was more flirtatious than I’d have been if it were anybody else.”

“Do you...want to flirt more?” Barclay mumbles into his shoulder.

Joseph tips Barclay’s chin with his hand, brings their lips together as lightning flashes through the window. When he pulls back, Barclay’s eyes are wide. He kisses him once more just to see if he can make them entirely pupil, then whispers, “I hope we can do more than just flirt.”

“Joseph” strong arms slip below and across him, “fuck, babe, if it’s not flooded tomorrow, promise you’ll let me take you out tomorrow?”

“I’d like nothing better, big guy. In the meantime..” he rolls so Barclay is atop him, “I have some thoughts on how to keep your mind off the storm.”

[li-karina]

The Girl in the Bakery (Part 1)

It was another one of those days where Adrien Agreste just wanted to be someone else. Even with the glamorous lifestyle that came with his last name, there wasn’t anything that could outweigh Adrien’s craving of freedom. His entire life had been presented to him on a silver platter, except for the fateful day he received a black and red box. With Chat Noir, his superhero alter-ego, nothing stood in the way of being able to go wherever he wanted.

Maybe with the exception of Ladybug—not that he minded the hold that his partner-in-crime had on him. It was hard not to follow Ladybug anywhere she went, as her confident energy and natural leadership made her addicting to be around. 

She truly was the perfect woman in Adrien’s eyes. Beautiful, courageous, selfless, determined, yet stubborn, strict, and utterly irresistible. Ladybug was also a good kisser, not that Adrien would remember. The heroine in red had completely captured the heart of Paris, as well as her second in command. 

Rarely had Adrien been let out of the prison he called his home; however, with the powers of his miraculous, it was easy for him to escape out his window and into the world. He didn’t enjoy having to transform anytime he wanted fresh air, but it was the only way he wasn’t followed by his bodyguard or his father’s assistant, Nathalie. All he had to do was leave the record player on, echoing out the sound of Chopin or Beethoven, and he would get away with a few hours of free time. 

Usually, once Chat Noir’s feet hit the concrete of a deserted alleyway, he would turn back into Adrien and carry on his merry way--maybe take a walk through the park, get some ice cream, and avoid paparazzi as much as he could. But on this particular day, his leather suited counterpart seemed more appealing. Perhaps he was hoping to catch Ladybug on a daytime patrol or wanted to scale the Eiffel Tower, but something about staying Chat Noir just felt right.

He launched himself from roof to roof, occasionally waving at those who spotted him. His black ensemble made it harder for him to be seen due to the sky growing dark, but his green eyes and small yelps of joy made it very obvious to citizens which hero was out. Perched on the Louvre, Chat Noir hummed softly to himself. “Little kitty on the roof, all alone without his lady…”

“Chaton?” a voice spoke, ringing into the air with a sweet tone. Chat’s eyes darted up, settling on the blue eyed beauty standing behind him. A genuine grin stretched across his face, before replacing it with a smirk. Standing up quickly, Chat’s hand engulfed Ladybug’s and he pressed his lips to her knuckles in a playful kiss.

“Good evening Bugaboo,” Chat said, bowing slightly in a joking manner. “Nice of you to join me on this beautiful night.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes before taking a seat and gesturing for Chat to sit back down next to her. “It’s nice to see you too, kitty. But I can’t stay for long.”

Chat Noir’s smile fell before plopping himself next to his lady and clearing his throat. “Are you busy tonight?” he asked, realizing the disappointment in his voice. “Not that I can’t handle patrol by myself! And if there’s something you need to do, you can totally go do that.”

A light-hearted giggled escaped Ladybug’s mouth. “As much as I appreciate your concern, you know I can’t tell you to pro-”

“-tect our identities. I know. But you know that I care about you even without the mask. Whoever’s behind there, I still lo-” he cut himself off. “All I’m trying to say is that it’s not the end of the world if I know one detail about you. The real you.”

Ladybug stared at Chat for a few silent seconds, her lips pressed together in contemplation. She sighed, choosing her words carefully. Even though she knew it was a bad idea, something about his tone made her give in. “You know the bakery over on 12 Rue Gotlib?”

Chat nodded. His mom used to love their stuff. It was a rare treat he received, usually after more draining photoshoots, coming home to a box of chocolate croissants from Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. After his mother’s passing, he hadn’t even thought of the small business. A sudden craving for sweets came over him.

“Well, sometimes I help out over there. I’m not an employee or anything, but the owners let me take care of the smaller tasks. Like delivering cakes or working the register,” she said, her voice turning less professional and more care-free. A soft expression blossomed on her face, making Chat’s heart melt. 

Finally. He knew something about the woman he was so helplessly in love with. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. It was enough. Chat smiled. “Thank you for telling me. You can go if you need. I can handle it if Mr.Pigeon gets akumatized again.”

Ladybug laughed. He loved her laugh. “See you later kitty! Bug out!” And then she was gone.

Chat found himself staring after her with a lovesick smile. “Bye m’lady.” 

Clearing his throat, Chat turned around and once again started jumping from roof to roof. Landing on top of his own manor, he was about to swing back into his room, but a sudden hunger stopped him. He knew Nathalie would call him to supper soon, but if he was going to end up eating alone, he was at least going to eat something he wanted. 

Not that he disliked the meals provided to him by his chef, but the diets and cleanses got a little overwhelming at times. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss the taste of a certain flaky, delicious pastry. 

Before he could even process what he was doing, Chat felt himself making his way to 12 Rue Gotlib. Staring at the lit up windows and catching a whiff of the sweet aroma, he suddenly dropped down and was standing in front of the cute building. Peeking inside through the glass door, Chat caught a glimpse of a girl sitting at the counter, idly doodling in a notebook. 

Something about her--her eyes, her dreamy intensity she had aimed at whatever she was drawing, or the way she looked like she needed someone to talk to-- drew him in. Chat’s breath got caught in his throat as she glanced up, causing him to dart into the dark shadows beside the building. He thought for a moment.

“Plagg, claws in.”

The small kwami that was just in his ring shot out. “Adrien? What are you doing?” 

“I just wanted to go in for something to eat. I promise I’ll be quick,” Adrien entreated, looking at his supernatural friend with pleading eyes.

Plagg sighed. “Fine. But once we get home, I want cheese,” he said before going to hide in Adrien’s overshirt.

Adrien took a deep breath and smiled--and in he went. 

The girl in the bakery looked up from her notebook, immediately closing the book in front of her and smiling politely. “Hi! How can I help you?” Her voice was as sweet as the atmosphere around them. The way her eyes sparkled made it impossible to look away. She was gorgeous.

Adrien smiled back at her, taking extra careful steps. She looked so delicate that the blond couldn’t help but put extra effort into being as gentle with every movement. “Hello,” he finally said. His tone was soft, and made his voice sound more silky.

Adrien’s eyes wandered around the small bakery, everything looking delectable. His mouth watered with every new item he noticed.Then he saw the chocolate croissants. His finger pressed against the glass directly in front of them. “Two please.”

The girl nodded. She grabbed a box and a bag and began packing Adrien’s order. Meanwhile, Adrien racked his brain trying to think of something to say. But before he could even come up with a coherent thought, the girl was already handing him the bag. “It’s on me. You look like you’ve had a rough day. I hope it gets better.”

Adrien stared wordlessly at her. “Oh, thank you. I just haven’t been here in years, so it’s a little strange being back.”

The girl hummed in response before speaking. “Why’d you stop coming?”

“My mom died.”

Adrien mentally slapped himself in the face. The slightly taken back expression on the girl made him feel even worse.

But then she returned to the kind smile she had before. “I’m sorry for your loss. Feel free to come in anytime, okay? I’ll have a warm croissant ready for you every time.”

He stared at her. “I...never got your name.”

“Marinette. Yours?” She looked back at him expectedly.

“Adrien. Adrien Agreste,” he replied a smile finally painting itself back on his face. 

“Adrien? Like from that one ad?” she asked, giggling.

Adrien laughed along with her. “Yeah, exactly like the one from the ad.”

Then a woman walked in from the other room, looking like an older version of Marinette. Probably her mother, Adrien thought.

“Well, it was nice to meet you Adrien. Hopefully I’ll see you again, goodnight.” Marinette waved, before disappearing behind the wall guarding what seemed to be the kitchen. Adrien waved back, not that she could see him do so. Without another word, Adrien left.

He walked back to his home while the sun set behind him. Plagg floated alongside his companion with a knowing smile. He knew who Adrien just met, and it killed Plag that he couldn’t tell anyone.

 It was maybe 7 P.M. and Adrien knew someone would probably check on him soon. The bag of boxed croissants hung around his wrist, tempting him to eat one right there. But he waited.

“Plagg, claws out.” 

The small black cat had a look of dread before he was sucked back into the silver ring. Once Adrien was back as Chat noir, he jumped to his room just in time to hear a knock on his bedroom door. “Adrien? Time for dinner.”

“I’ll be right out!” he yelled before transforming back and heaving out a held breath. The croissants were set on his desk and he readjusted himself. Plagg flew out, his intentioned set on the mini-fridge filled with camembert.

Well he’s all set, Adrien thought as he opened his door and started downstairs. His thoughts were filled with celebrations. Today was a good day.

(Quick Author’s Note: Hi! Okay, this took me hours to write but I think I;m okay with it. Sorry for no Marichat in this part, but I wanted to set up a relationship between Marinette and Adrien first so he has a reason to visit her in the first place. Hope you enjoyed!)

[dex-xe]

“Can I at least tell my side of the story?” Young mischievous Thomas and Francis crashing his parents’ party?

Thomas & Francis General #40: “Can I at least tell my side of the story?”

(Just fyi,, I haven’t proofread this and it was written at 2am so if it makes no sense I apologise!! XD But yeh,, I enjoyed this one!! Also tiny bit of underage drinking, literally just kids sipping their parents drinks.)

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“Cousin, this is a rather poor idea!” Little 10 year old Thomas said. He shivered in the cold night as he leant back against a tree, trying hard not to dirty the jacket of his best suit.

“Hush, Thomas!’ Francis clambered up over a fallen tree and reached down to take the young Thomas by the wrist and pull him up. “Won’t it be wonderful: To see, once and for all, what these events are like!”

The boys continued their trek through the woods towards Francis’ home, determined in their efforts to explore the adult world.

Francis was meant to be staying the night at the Thorne’s large country home as his parent’s hosted the party of the season at theirs. He’d been taken to Thomas’ in the late afternoon and ordered to stay; to spend the night playing games with his cousin and get an early night.

And yet, once the servants had shut the boys in Thomas’ bedroom having provided them with warm milk and extra blankets, Francis had pulled Thomas back up, thrown him his Sunday best clothes, and dragged him towards the bedroom window.

“I’ll go first, then you jump after, yes?” Francis had said. He’d lifted the window open with ease and dropped carefully onto the floor below before holding his arms up to Thomas. “Come, cousin! Jump and I’ll catch you!”

“Where are we going?” Thomas had shouted down to him, climbing out anyway.

So they headed through the woods for the half an hour walk to Francis’ house only down the road, twigs and leaves crunching beneath their perfectly polished shoes.

Thomas was well known for following precisely what his slightly older, and much more popular cousin told him to do. As terrible an idea as trudging through the forest in the middle of the night to crash a ball that children were most definitely not allowed to was, Thomas couldn’t help but feel the anticipation mixed with nerves rise in his chest as the glow from the large open windows of the Button’s house came into view through the dappled trees.

The boys jumped the beautifully manicured hedge into the garden of the Button Family’s huge manor house. They tiptoed through the bushes, ducking and diving to avoid the gaze of high-society members talking in the gardens.

Upon finally reaching the ballroom, both boys were struck by the deafening noise of the ton talking and laughing and the delightful undertones of the string quartet playing on stage.

Thomas gazed up in awe at the variety of flowing sophisticated dresses and sharp suits that graced the forms of his society higher-ups, safe in the knowledge that he’d soon be donning his best clothes to join the merriments.

“Here, cousin!” Francis tapped him on the shoulder, breaking him from the transfixed stare he had on the others. “Eat this!” Francis thrust a small jam and cream cake into his hand. Thomas took a bite. He could’ve fainted: if parties were always like this, he never wanted to leave. Forget being a boisterous ten year old, what was that compared to the heaven of flowing music, perfectly delicious food, and the swell of pleasantries exchanged between society friends.

“Cousin!” Thomas was once again awoken from daydream by Francis pressing something into his hand but this time something that thoroughly shocked naive Thomas: a small flute of champagne.

“Cousin, we mustn’t!” Thomas exclaimed.

“Why not? How fun is this?” Francis took a swig of champagne as if it were orange juice around the family breakfast table. Attempting to copy his more mature cousin, Thomas took a mouthful, immediately descending into splutters as the champagne fizzled up his nose.

“Master Francis!” A voice called out. Both boys scrambled to drop their glasses onto the table and smooth down their clothes to look as presentable as two ten year olds in oversized suits at a party well out of their depth could look.

“You shouldn’t be down here, Master Francis!” A man in an elegant tuxedo approached the boys: Lord Seabrooke - one of the most powerful men in the high-society world Thomas and Francis were about to grow into. A firm but fair man, one that two ten year old boys certainly wouldn’t want to cross. “Shouldn’t you be in bed, boys?”

Thomas was about to speak up, apologise to his Lordship before sheepishly hiding behind the drinks table, but Francis got there first.

“Actually, your Lordship, my mother has given us permission to have a little look around,” Francis said confidently.

“She did say that,” Thomas agreed, modding slightly less self-assured than his wilful cousin.

“Did she now?” Lord Seabrooke scoffed. “Pray tell, why would your rather honourable mother possibly allow two boys to wander around her delightful ball?”

“Indeed, your Lordship,” Francis claimed. “Mother has been trying to prepare us for our entry into society. She says we are to observe the ball and study for our entry into society.”

“The pair of you shan’t enter the ton for at least another decade,” Lord Seabrooke commented.

“Yes, well,” Francis said as confidently as ever. “The more preparation the better, and some of us need it more than others.” He turned and glanced Thomas up and down, his eyes burning judgement into his cousin’s form. Lord Seabrooke followed his gaze, his eyes settling on the scuffed hole in the knee of Thomas’ best suit - he must have done it climbing through the woods.

“Hmm. Well, I suppose if your mother has allowed this, I shan’t impose.”

“Thomas Henry Thorne!” A voice screeched from across the hall, her voice rising high above the clamour of the ballroom. The boys whipped around to watch Thomas’ mother, Violet, marching her way across the dance floor fury in her eyes.

“What, in all that’s holy, are you doing here?” She caught a handful of Thomas’ jacket material, swiping at Francis as well as she barrelled the boys out of the room and into a nearby study slamming the door behind them. “What do you think you’re doing, boys! I left the two of you at home under strict instruction! How did you even get here?”

“Well, it was quite the adventure, mother!” Thomas was overcome with the trepidation of his trip through the woods and the excitement and wonder at seeing his first ever ball.

“I care not for what adventures you’ve been on!” Violet hissed. “How did you think this would be a good idea? You know you’re not allowed here!”

“If I may, can I at least tell my side of the story?” Thomas queried. Violet shot him a glare before he started. “You see, we were talking about what parties are like and wanted to see.”

He turned towards Francis, who was also glaring, debating how best to approach his mother’s interrogations. He took a deep breath, bracing himself.

“It was Francis.”

“You fiend!” Francis swiped at Thomas hitting him squarely in the chest. “This was your idea as much as mine!”

“Poppycock! Cousin took me through the woodland and said no one would question us here, which of course Lord Seabrooke, the nosy old git, proved wrong.”

“Thomas Thorne!” Violet snapped. “How dare you, young man! He is a respected member of society, working to ensure that our family are behaving respectfully. He was well within his right to accost you for galavanting around the Button’s party like wild animals.”

“But mother, we are simply preparing for our presentation to the ton!” Thomas cried.

“That is merely the lie you told the Honorable Seabrooke, do not think you shall fool me too!” Violet said. “Francis, I expect this from you.” Francis scoffed and went to object, before Violet waved him away. “But Thomas, this is simply unacceptable from you!”

“Mother, please just let us stay,” Thomas begged, moments from dropping to his knees and praying to her. “It’s just so perfect and romantic and gorgeous. I just cannot wait until we’re presented!”

“I have already requested a carriage, and Alistair has been told you’re on your way back.”

Thomas cringed, well aware that head servant Alistair would not be best pleased with his young master sneaking out the window. In fact, Thomas was quite sure Alistair’s face would turn the most pleasing shade of purple he often did when Thomas misbehaved, working incredibly hard to keep his fury in check.

The short carriage ride back to Thomas’ was spent mostly in silence as the two boys contemplated their adventure out and the reality of being able to one day enter society along with his parents.

Francis finally broke the silence: “it was worth it, though!”

“Oh, utterly!” The boys broke into fits of grins and giggles.