#it wasn’t a tone thing it was just y’know here is a decent suit

[ask-cloverfield]

or you could have a story that didn’t require juggling

[tnystrk-exe]

Estocolmo 3

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

First Chapter

Warnings: 18+ thigh riding, in a public setting, degration, cockwarming

Word count: 6k

Chapter Three

Maybe you hadn’t thought through about going to Hannibal’s dinner party. In the moment you had just missed the sound of his voice. His touch… Okay, you were motivated by other things than how much fun you would have at this little dinner party of his.

However you had to pull a lot of strings and work extra shifts, just so your bosses would even consider letting you off for a couple days. You were a valuable worker, one that would damage them to lose, but pettiness didn’t know any bounds. The stress was adding up. Still you trudged through it all. Not one to ever want to end up on Hannibal’s bad side.

You didn’t like making the perfect, polite ones angry. Loud anger you could handle. You were used to it. Quiet anger was just upsetting. He’d be upset you let him down, but he wouldn’t say it right. A soft sigh followed by a half meant it’s okay would probably be the most he’d give you. Disappointing him was a no go.

“I can’t wait for you to leave.”

“You’re so good at making me feel loved.”

“You know I do!” She laid back in your bed, arm’s comfortably behind her head, “But since you planned yourself a date. I did too.”

You grabbed clothes and threw them into a small duffel bag. “The chick from work?”

“God I wish. Can't work up the courage.”

“Don’t tell me you called up Reggie,” you laughed.

“Don’t tell me you got called up by Hannibal,” she mocked your voice. “Look! We’re a team! You can get dicked by someone that doesn’t deserve you. And I’ll romance a very pretty woman the entire weekend.”

“When is she getting here?”

“I’m shooting the text the second you’re out that door.”

You sighed, “You replace me so easily.”

“Oh baby,” she cooed, “Remember who’s leaving who.”

“A couple of days. You could be lonely for a few days.”

Alex walked you out. Stressing that you had to text her throughout your drive. It was only a three hour drive, but a lot could happen within that time.

All in all it wasn’t a bad trip. Monotonous without your usual partner in the passenger seat, but not bad. Your nerves bit at you. Hannibal’s social presence really was everything to him. Your head ran though countless ways you could mess up the night. Ultimately you wouldn’t, you knew that, but your brain sure did like to torture you with the idea.

“Everything will be fine,” you told yourself as you parked alongside the manor. Staying in the car for a moment you built yourself up. It was Hannibal. He knew about your home life. How you took your coffee. The things you’ve allowed him to do to you. Probably some understanding of things that he hadn’t done to you yet. A knock on your window pulled you out of your thoughts.

Opening the door you got out of the car.

“You weren’t thinking of running away, I hope,” Hannibal greeted.

“I wasn’t. Nerves,” you admitted. “It’s usually just the two of us, y’know…”

“Darling,” he scoffed, adjusting a piece of your hair, “I have no doubt in my mind that my companions wouldn’t adore you as much as I do.”

You moved to grab your bag, only for Hannibal to immediately take it from you. “You say that now, but that’s only because you’ve become accustomed to that certain charm I have at three in the morning after a night of studying. I’m not sure I can be as adorable to all of your friends.”

“Anyone that thinks otherwise has no place in my home.” Hannibal grabbed your hand in his own, leading you to the manor.

Once the front door closed, he wasted no time pulling you close. The kiss was long and rough. Both attempting to make up for lost time in the limited minutes you had. A soft moan from you made him press you against the door, the bag that had been in his hand long forgotten. His hand pressed lightly against your throat as he pushed a knee in between yours.

It was a long while before he pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed my favorite plaything,” He spoke into the shared air, “You’ve been away so long.”

“Your favorite?” You asked, looking at him dazed.

He smiled, mischief in his eyes. “I’d wager they couldn’t kiss you so well you’d look at them like they hung the stars after.”

“I do not!”

“Of course you don’t, darling.” He picked up your bag. “Come, we should start getting dressed.” You followed Hannibal up the stairs to his room. Apparently yours too, at least for the next couple of nights, since he emptied the contents of your bag into an empty dresser drawer. “You’re more than welcome to explore if you do get uncomfortable. I know meeting a sea of people can feel overwhelming.”

“I’m just afraid I’ll be out of place.”

“You’re exactly where I want you to be,” he disappeared into the walk-in closet, “The other’s are decent enough people. However, it makes sense that such divine beauty doesn’t fit in amongst commoners. I’d never dream of you finding yourself their equal.”

You walked over to examine the drawings he had hung on the wall next to his bed. “I’m not sure I’m worthy of such high thought.”

He came back, placing the suit and dress onto the bed. Standing behind you, he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. “I really do mean it, beloved. You’re strong and intelligent. As much as I’d like to, you won’t allow me to pull strings and help you. That’s more than most of the crowd coming over tonight. They haven’t faced hardships like yourself and I. Don’t allow yourself to be treated less than and, please, tell me if anyone makes you feel that way.”

You turned your head, kissing his cheek. “I’m not sure I believe it, but I’m grateful for the thought.”

“I simply must make it my mission to prove it.” He inhaled deeply, “You’ve changed your perfume?”

“I liked the one you bought,” you said simply, getting out of his arms, you looked at the dress he had gotten you. The piece of fabric was easily the most expensive thing you owned now. It didn’t match his suit, but the two certainly complimented each other. “You really didn’t have to.”

“I want to,” he went to open another dresser drawer, pulling out a small box, “Consider it all a graduation present. You worked hard and deserve a reward for it. We didn’t get a chance to see one another before you left.”

“You’ve had these since then?” You asked.

“Of course. How could I resist an opportunity to find you a gift? And with Alex so graciously allowing me to buy you a dress, I figured tonight would be a wonderful time to give you your gift.” He opened the jewelry box.

“Hannibal,” you gasped quietly, the jewelry glimmered brightly, “It’s beautiful.” Usually you weren’t one for objects, but this was also the most thoughtful thing you’ve ever received. Hannibal had taken the small bits he knew of you and picked out the perfect pieces of jewelry for you. It was the feeling of being known so well that made it special.

“The second I saw this set I couldn’t help but think of my darling girl. Would you like me to put the necklace on you now?”

You quickly shook your head, “After I get dressed, please. I wouldn’t want to risk dirtying it while I’m getting ready.”

“In that case, I’ll show you where you can get ready.”

You grabbed the things you needed to make yourself look presentable and followed Hannibal to the bathroom. To your surprise he started to undress after he hung up his suit and your dress. You shrugged it off and set your stuff on the counter, you were more than comfortable with him and you and Alex had taken to doing similar in your cramped bathroom early mornings. The shower turned on while you took out your makeup. His humming filled the otherwise quiet room.

When you were pleased with how your makeup looked, you moved on to fussing with your hair. The shower shut off and your eyes wandered briefly in the mirror. You watched the show as he dried off his chest and followed the towel up as he dried his hair. He caught your eye, brow raised, you shrugged and sent a wink his way.

You got undressed, tossing your clothes in the hamper as you did. Walking over to the dress you felt the fabric between your fingers, studying the intricate pattern that was sown on to it.

“You don’t like it, darling?” Hannibal asked as he buttoned his shirt. “There’s another in the closet, but I was hopeful you’d like this one. You'd look stunning.”

“Admiring,” you stated simply, “Wait there’s another?”

“There’s a show, I’d like to see tomorrow. I figured it could be an outing for us.” He checked himself over before styling his hair. “This is ‘Making it worth my while’ as Alex said.”

“Han, you know better than to listen to Al.” You sighed, “I’m grateful, I honestly am. It’s just embarrassing. I really can’t give you anything in return.”

Hannibal came over to you, holding one of your hands in his. “They’re simple trinkets of my affection. In the end they all mean nothing. YN, you grace me with your presence and time, which is something that can never be repaid in form. I hold you dearly, your time is more than I deserve.”

You stood on the tips of your toes kissing him gently. There was all the time later for a rougher touch. Now you just wanted to feel him pressed close against yourself. A brief flick of thought asked if you really wanted this to just be a fleeting thing between friends. Pulling away, you gave him one final kiss to the side of his mouth.

“You’re allowed to give me one gift a month,” you teased, as you grabbed his tie and set to work on tying it for him. “You’re not my sugar daddy, as much as Alex wishes you were.”

“And you’re welcome to set as many rules as you’d like when it comes to this. However, what’s forcing me to follow them?” His hands grazed along your sides, “We both understand who makes the rules, don’t we little one?”

The part of you that had become accustomed to that particular tone, faltered slightly. “Hannibal, we’re not always in sessions,” you reminded him as you tightened the tie, “You can’t just have your way.”

“Why not?”

You shook your head, annoyed, “Or you can do what you’d like. It’s your wallet after all.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately, “I don’t want to offend you.”

You let it go, there was no use to fight over this. “It’s okay, you’re only teasing right?”

“May I please see you in the dress?” He asked, lightening the mood.

You turned, returning to the piece of elegant fabric. Carefully you pulled it on. He really was excellent when it came to fashion. The dress hugged the right places and accentuated everything wonderfully. Hannibal stepped behind you once again. Zipping the back for you, his fingers trailing up as he did. Carefully, he moved your hair to the side as he fixed the necklace in place. Dipping his head down, he kissed that spot on your neck he had quickly learned turned you to putty in his hands. You leaned against him, angling your neck to give him better access as a soft moan escaped. His teeth grazed gently against your neck, he seemed to toy with the idea of making a mark before backing away. As much as he’d enjoy to see it blossom, he knew you had many first impressions to make.

You whimpered at the loss of contact. Suddenly realizing just how much you had missed him.

“I know, little one,” he sighed, pressing a kiss on the side of your ear, “but we have a night to get through. After this, I belong to you. We will have all tomorrow for each other.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

-

The dinner party was beautifully done. Of course it was. Hannibal never spared any expense, let alone when he was trying to impress. He had introduced you to a couple people, they were nice enough, but you just couldn’t find a connection with them. You definitely steered clear of Bedelia. That woman was intimidating to a whole other degree. Definitely someone you could actually see Hannibal going after. You wondered why he didn’t.

An hour into the dinner party, you slipped away. He had said you could explore and honestly, without him you weren’t much for conversation. You had already gotten a snide look for saying you worked at a bar on nights, but they didn’t hold much interest for you either. All the conversations you had heard were meaningless droning. People constantly trying to one up another or bragging about something new they acquired or some business deal.

So it was safe to say no one noticed your absence. Well maybe one extremely observant man.

You found yourself in his library, taking residence in a nook next to a window. Hannibal’s sketch book in your lap as you looked over his drawings. Each drawing looked like he must have spent hours on it. You marveled at his talent, watching the range go from almost romantic to grouesome. Some things could be recognized as his take on art pieces, and landscapes, while others seemed to be originals. The originals were darker in nature, but you supposed it made sense. He saw death as something comforting and could be considered beautiful. Of course it would translate into his pieces.

The door opened, revealing the man that occupied your thoughts at the moment. “Is everything alright, darling? No one bothered you, I hope.”

You smiled up at him. “I’m fine. I just wanted a break, I’m getting a little bit of a headache.”

“Oh?” He touched your forehead with the back of his hand, “Are you feeling well?”

“I’ll go back in a moment,” you promised himas you brought his hand down to press a peck onto it, “Go enjoy your party.”

“They can keep themselves entertained for a while.”  He took a seat next to you, pulling you to rest against him. “I could use a moment too.”

You couldn’t stave off the smile that played on your lips to get to have him to yourself. He made you feel comfortable and honestly you were out of your element at this party. Hannibal rested his head against the wall. That left his neck vulnerable and you couldn’t resist placing a kiss on it.

“Why must you insist on acting up when we are alone, darling girl?” He hummed quietly, his hand entertained itself absentmindedly drawing things on your thigh.

“I missed you,” you insisted. “Not just like that. We used to spend a lot of time together.”

“It has been a long time. I’m sorry about that.”

“I had your number too. I’m not completely out of blame.”

“Well, you’ll find a way to make it up to me.” He tugged you closer, “You’re too far.”

You straddled one of his thighs, placing your hand on his shoulders. “I’m sure you have a couple ideas of how.”

“A couple.”

Leaning in you caught him in a kiss. His hand started to trail lower, you caught him by the wrist before he got to his destination, placing his hand back on your hip. With his original plan voided, he bounced his thigh against you, the hands on your hips helping you grind down. You couldn’t help the moan you let out. Letting him continue until you remembered the party happening not so far away.

“Hannibal,” you whined against his lips, “Not right now.”

“But you sound so sweet, darling, don’t mind them.” He continued his earlier assault on your neck, this time not thinking twice before sucking his mark onto it. “You look so beautiful tonight. I know you can give me one before we’re missed, you’re always so good for me. Don’t you want to be good?”

The growing lust clouded your judgement. Hannibal’s soft words and the gentle but perfect rhythm he was working on made it hard to find any reason to argue.

“Yes, daddy,” you sighed softly, “I want to be good for you.”

The door opened again, followed by a dramatic gasp, “Hannibal, having dessert before the rest of us?” The strange man eyed you, “Plan on sharing?”

Hannibal had been quick to tug down the dress that had rode up, keeping you safe from prying eyes. “Unfortunately, I’m not one for sharing. If you don’t mind waiting in the hall. I’ll meet with you in a second.”

“Oh, I’d much prefer to stay. Hello, what’s your name? Is Hannibal keeping you entertained?”

You hid your face against Hannibal’s shoulder, your face burning to the touch.

“Shy thing isn’t she, daddy?”

“I really must insist you leave now,” Hannibal said, the anger evident in his voice.

“Fine, killjoy.” You heard retreating steps and the door closed again.

“Of course out of everyone to find us it was the gossip,” he sighed to himself, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m sorry about that, love.”

“I told you not now,” you said, pulling away and going back to your seat beside him.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he kissed the back of your hand, “I thought we’d have a couple more minutes before someone looked for us, let alone find us. Let me handle this and then you’ll never see him again.”

You nodded. “Can I go to the room for the night? He made me feel… strange.”

“Darling,” he cupped your cheek, a sad look in his eyes, “this is your home more than anyone else out there. Don’t let him ruin the night for us. I’ll make sure he’s gone and stay by you the rest of the night. Does that sound okay?”

And true to his word he was, he had escorted the man out quickly once he found him. However the Gossip was apparently a fast worker, because a couple people did give you lingering looks. Though they were quick to save face if they so much as thought Hannibal noticed. Whatever they thought didn’t matter. You were two grown, consenting adults that enjoyed each other’s company, be damned what others thought. Throughout the night you kept telling yourself that, hoping to cut the embarrassment short. A couple times you caught yourself, thoughtlessly intertwining your fingers with Hannibal’s when you were less than sturdy. Each time he squeezed your fingers gently, quiet reassurance that he was there for you.

-

You woke up the following morning. Hannibal was still asleep beside you, it must have been early. He looked sweet in the mornings. Relaxed, not as stiff as he usually was, his hair sticking up in places he’d immediately flatten out once he woke as he greeted you with that deeper more accented voice that accompanied the mornings. You pressed a kiss to his chest, before carefully removing the arm that was sprawled across your stomach.

Looking at the clock, you considered the time. There was enough if you worked quickly. Standing up, you grabbed one of your shirts and shorts. After freshening up, you made your way down to the kitchen.

It was different. You hadn’t toured much of the home, let alone know where anything was, but you gathered your bearings fast enough. The things you needed had been placed somewhat similarly to his old home and you set everything onto the counter. Protein scramble, fruit, and pancakes seemed like a good option today. The pancakes, he had taught you to make when you asked where the box mix was and obviously he wouldn’t stand for you not knowing how to make something so simple from scratch.

Your phone played music as you set to work, washing the used dishes along the way so there wasn’t too much of a mess.

As you were plating the food, you heard Hannibal call out your name.

“Kitchen!” You called out.

He was quick to meet you, “Darling, I could have made you breakfast. You should have stayed in bed with me.”

“I couldn’t sleep any more and you looked too sweet to wake,” you poured two cups of coffee and prepared them to both of your liking, “Figured why not play domestic for a while.”

“How did you like it?” He asked, walking over to take the cup from you.

“Eh well you know, the domestic life,” you shrugged, feeding him a cut strawberry, “I like to let my partner sleep in on Saturday’s and make them comfort breakfasts. Sometimes they ruin breakfast in bed by coming down too early, but what can you do?”

He chuckled around the bite of strawberry, “I’m sorry, beloved. I’ll stay put next time.”

“Yes, you will.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “But I’m not too angry at you. I enjoy your company.”

His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Aren’t you usually sporting my shirts on these mornings?”

“I didn’t want to ruin one of them.”

“You couldn’t ruin a thing if you tried. I’ve got more than enough for you to steal away when you go back home too.”

“I only took them, because someone made a habit of messing up my shirts.”

“And your reasoning for keeping them, little one?” He grabbed the plates, “Come along, the mornings have been wonderful recently.”

You grabbed the cups. “You should’ve come and picked them up the same way I had. It’s your own fault they aren’t back where they belong.”

The afternoon was spent in each other’s company. Hannibal had insisted he’d wash the remaining dishes and asked you to pick up his sketchbook and pencils from the library since you were going to find yourself something to read. You did as asked, before returning outside. Setting his things on the table, you went to go sit in a sunny spot of grass.

It wasn’t long until Hannibal rejoined you outside and took a seat.

You glanced up curiously after a while, he was sketching away.

“Anything I can do for you, beloved?” He asked, not looking up from his work.

“Just watching.”

He hummed in response.

Some unease settled in your stomach when you remembered why exactly you were over here. What was the harm in voicing it? “Hannibal?” You waited until he looked up at you, “You’re okay that we haven’t slept together yet? I mean… I know that’s why I am here.”

It was true, the lingering looks you had gotten at dinner, paired with the small embarrassment of realizing one of Hannibal’s love bites got to bloom in front of them all threw you off at night. You had tried to let yourself go, let him have control of you for a while, but you couldn’t go past taking off some clothes and letting your hands feel the other. He didn’t mind when you didn’t want to do more. Always the gentleman. Instead he settled you against his chest, an arm keeping you close, quiet conversation and long breathtaking kisses filled the night.

“I’m not one of those little boys you’ve found,” he stated, seeming to be mildly offended, “I enjoy our quiet moments just as much, if not more. Sex is something else we could do together, nothing more. It’s not everything, little one. You’re not here for that purpose. What I enjoy is your company and I’ll take it any way you give it.”

You tilted your head looking at him closely, he mimicked you, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. That made you laugh softly, you decided he was being honest and not covering up his disappointment with sweet words. Patting the grass next to you, “Sit with me.”

“YN…”

“Please?” You asked, sweetening the pot with a pout.

He shook his head but gathered his things, soon joining you. Resting your head on his shoulder you looked at what he was sketching. The scene was you at the present moment. Half faced toward him, book in hand, completely relaxed, and more perfect than you ever dreamed of being.

“That’s an exaggeration, I’m not that beautiful.”

“That’s where we must differ, my love,” he kissed your temple, “Try as I might I’ll never be able to draw you with the dignity you deserve. It’s a poor imitation of the way I perceive you.”

“You’re a ridiculous man,” you said fondly, “Though I suppose I’d like to keep you around a while longer.”

“Suppose” he scoffed, “ You’d be lost without me.”

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly and went back to your book.

-

“Darling, I do adore when you take care of yourself, but we’ll be late if you don’t hurry,” Hannibal said, leaning on the bathroom’s door frame already dressed for the outing.

“It’s not my fault you always manage to get the bath perfect,” you groaned, getting out of the bathtub.

Hannibal walked over, grabbing a towel on his way. “I’ll run you another later.”

You took the towel, drying yourself off. It was nice to see a rare impatient Hannibal. There was more to that calm and collected demeanor he usually had. “You’re cute when you’re excited about something. Where are we going?”

“I got us tickets to the opera.”

“Really!” You lit up at that. When he talked about the shows he had seen before, he’d get so much more animated. It would be nice to experience one with him. “Which one?”

“Die Entführung aus dem Serail,” he answered, taking you in with a smile, “but darling, your excitement may go to waste, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll be quick!”

With you keeping your promise and Hannibal’s quick driving, it didn’t take anytime to make it to the opera house. There was time to spare and Hannibal socialized a bit, introducing you to other regulars. You exchanged pleasantries and let Hannibal control the conversation as you looked around the place. Some people you recognized from last night. One person you saw nod towards you whispering something to his companion.

“I didn’t think he’d be one for cradle robbing,” you caught the man say, as he eyed you up, “Lucky man. Reckon I could steal that little piece away?”

You subtly moved closer to Hannibal, feeling the heat rise to your face.

Hannibal turned his attention to you when the others started talking amongst themselves. “Are you alright?” He asked quietly, tucking away a strand of your hair that fell out of place.

“Yeah. I’m great,” you lied, knowing he’d probably take offense to any minute comment made about whatever kind of relationship the two of you had.

“Are you certain?” The tone of voice saying he knew you were hiding something. He always seemed to read you so easily. In that he knew you’d continue to deny anything. “Would you like to go to our seats now? The show should start in a couple of minutes.”

“Yes, please.”

Hannibal grabbed your hand in his, leading you away from the crowd. To your surprise he took you to a private balcony above the rest of the audience seating. “Since, it’s your first time, I figured privacy would do us well. No distractions,” he paused for a moment, “No one to get into that pretty little head of yours.”

“I just don’t enjoy all the looks and comments,” you sighed, allowing him to pull you down onto the seat with him. “I love spending time with you. It’s just soured by people that don’t mind their own.”

“It’s not ideal, but we mustn’t let them ruin our nights. With this kind of community, people make assumptions and talk. Darling, I really do insist you tell me when someone makes you upset.”

“I know, I know. Guess I should have braced for it more. I’m just not used to these kinds of things. When we’re alone it’s easy to just exist together. Just us.”

“I understand completely. However, I do enjoy that we finally got to leave the house. You look absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

You smiled at that, “Well, you do seem to have an eye for what suits me.”

“That, I do.”

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you breathed the comforting scent of his cologne, “I’m sorry I let them get to me when we're supposed to be enjoying our time together. It’s not fair to you.”

“They get annoying,” he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, “Of course you’d take offense for us. There isn’t much we can do besides understand that we’re here for the right reasons. Though, it does get under my skin to see you affected so under my care.”

Soon the crowd made their way to the seats and the lights dimmed to near black. When the music started Hannibal whispered translations into your ear. You got caught up in the story between watching the characters go through their woes and Hannibal’s gentle voice guiding you through every detail. It was easy to see what Hannibal saw at these events. They really were thrilling to watch. Still it wasn’t so much the show, but getting to know another side of the man in question.

You looked at the man beside you, a happy smile plastered on your face. “Thank you for bringing me, Hannibal.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

“Your love?” You challenged teasingly.

A couple times he had thrown around the pet name. You didn’t take it for much. He was a sweet, old fashioned man, you had decided to believe. A sweet nothing that neither of you minded. Still you couldn’t deny the slight softness you felt from the moniker.

“You’ve promised yourself as all mine before,” he reminded you, “and I take no issue in claiming what’s mine.”

“That was said when I was drunk on you.”

“Deny all you’d like, sweet girl, you’re still mine.”

Hannibal tilted your head up slightly to kiss you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about why the music crescendoed in that moment. Not when he was kissing you with more passion than you had ever felt. He had a way of making it feel like you were the only beings in existence. Hannibal bit at your lip, asking for more, and you gave it to him without a thought. You’d do whatever he wanted at that moment. Still you couldn’t help grabbing his wrist when his hand found it’s way up your dress. He swallowed the helpless moan that slipped past your lips greedily.

You pulled away from him, your hips grinding onto his hand on their own accord. “Hannibal, I-“

He hushed you, “You’re missing a very important part of the show.” His hand didn’t let up from its ministrations as he continued to translate for you.

You went to cover your mouth with your hand, but Hannibal stopped you short, placing it back at your side. A quick mummer of be good was all he offered, not once stopping the pace he had set. You choked back the moan when he pressed against a spot that had been long neglected since the last time you paid him a visit. The music being so loud was your only safe haven, still, you pressed yourself further into Hannibal, hoping to hide yourself further from any wandering eyes that might look away from the show. Embarrassment and lust built with every thrust of Hannibal’s fingers. The former was getting increasingly easier to ignore as Hannibal pulled you closer and closer to your end. Pressing your face against his neck, you bit at the skin there in a cheap attempt at revenge for what he was putting you through.

Hannibal’s fingers stilled. A quiet chuckle met your ear when he heard your whimper of protest, stopping your hips as you attempted to help yourself. “Such an easy thing to toy with, you're nothing more than my own personal whore.” He didn’t miss the throb around his fingers at those words. “You’d let me use you however I’d like wouldn’t you?”

You gave a lazy nod as he brought his fingers up to your mouth. Eager to please him, hoping he’d let you finish, you opened your mouth and sucked his fingers clean. Behind your back, you felt him working himself out of his pants. Taking his hand away he adjusted your dress higher before pulling you on to his lap. With his other hand the head of his cock teased your clit, you forced yourself not to complain, knowing he’d go on longer if you did. When he finally pushed into you, you couldn’t fight off the moan of contentment as he filled you completely. Turning your head, you caught him in a languid kiss, caught up in only him despite the performance going on.

“Please?”

“What do you need?”

“You.” You shifted your hips slightly, “May I please move?”

“I’m sorry, little one,” you caught the slight upward twitch of his lip when you looked at him in disbelief, “I’d rather use you at my leisure.”

You whined in frustration, leaning against him knowing he’d play a cruel game. This time he offered no translations, keeping you entirely focused on the feeling of him buried deep inside of you doing nothing to help relieve your need for him. When you did manage to distract yourself, he circled your clit and gave a few sharp thrust, just enough to bring you back where he wanted you. His hand continued, changing the rhythm every so often so you’d stay aware of your position.

“I’ll be so good,” you begged helplessly.

“And yesterday you had been so against it despite having our privacy in the library,” he reminded you, pushing in and out of you in a too slow pace, but at least he was moving, “What was it that was missing, hm? The audience that could look up and see me using what’s mine?”

You didn’t know what had changed. Not truely. Maybe it was the couple of glasses of wine you had drunk throughout the day. Perhaps it was just finally getting what you had wanted for so long. Honestly, you couldn’t find yourself to be curious enough to find out.

“I wanna cum,” you told him, swallowing the embarrassment.

“I don’t know, darling, you’ve tried to find comfort with others. I really can’t say I approve of the notion. Suppose, I could just use you for your worth and leave you dry.” He groaned into your ear as you clenched around him, he sped up his thrust, “There’s my good girl, you like the sound of that?”

“Hannibal, please,” you whimpered, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Beg for it.”

“I’ll never look for anyone else again. It was so stupid to think anyone else could make me feel as good as you.” Your breath hitched when he struck deeper, “I've been so desperate for you.”

“That’s all so very sweet, but that’s not exactly what I want to hear.”

You whined quietly as you tried to figure out the right combination of words to get you what you wanted. “I’m just yours… No one else’s… You’re the only one, I’m so sorry…”

“See? Was it so hard to apologize for your misconduct?”

You shook your head.

He pinched your thigh. “Words, darling.”

“No, daddy,” you moaned, as his hands guided your hips to move with him, “But I’ll be good for you now.”

“I still don’t think you deserve to cum, you pathetic thing.”

“You’ll let me?”

Hannibal’s hand grabbed your jaw roughly, making you look at him. “Next time I won’t be so generous. Understood?”

You swallowed down the slight twinge of fear that had worked its way into your system. “Yes, sir.”

He pushed your face away. “Work for it yourself.”

Tag list: @charc0al-grey @songofcosplay

[hardskz]

bow down.

pairing — bang chan x genderneutral! reader

genre — modern royalty au, drama-ish, smut; sexual tension-ish, hand kink, brat tamer! chan, degradation, leg humping, humiliation

synopsis — you have eyes. prince bang chan is a whole snack. but you also have too high of an ego and can’t seem to accept that prince chan isn’t full of himself unlike the other dozen members of any royal family you’ve met before. alternatively, this is the disney channel movie ‘princess protection program’ but make it porn only.

note — this fic with a wc of 7k+ does not include any spoilers to the movie and you don’t even have to know what the movie is about you’ll get the gist as you read. ngl half of this is from one of my drafts from like 3 years ago and i never continued it so here i am turning it into filth hahahah (and i needed a fresh idea for brat tamer chan and hence why i think the sfw part is better written than the nsfw lmao) rip also pls accept this as the follower milestone gift and 1 year anniversary special :’)

“I’m pretty sure I asked for a puppy for my birthday — which was three months ago may I add — not for a new roommate?”

You look back and forth between Youngjae and the stranger sitting on the couch who is staring back at you with a curious expression. He looks around your age and you admit, his face isn’t the kind of face that makes you thank your parents that genetics did a decent job on you. It’s quite the opposite, actually.

His face is the type of face that makes you ask your parents why genetics didn’t do a better job on yours. Okay, you haven’t reached that stage of visual inferiority yet but that’s mainly because he is dressed in clothes that were trendy in the 15th century or something. The garments clinging to his skin look like a bad fusion of a suit (which college student wears a suit in their free time?) and the ridiculous costume the marching band at your former high school had worn whenever a football game was up. And those weird golden pins clipped on the blazer makes it seem as if he used to be in the marines or comes from a royal bloodline or—

Oh. 

“Don’t mind my cousin, your Highness. (y/n)’s humor has always been questionable.”  Youngjae sends you a glare before he puts on his sweetest smile — you know, the act he puts on whenever he tries to negotiate a bonus with his boss or woo his date — and opts to ignore your presence. “Anyway, since we are dealing with a more serious issue at hand than originally expected, we need to give you a makeover to—“

Before he gets to finish his sentence, you violently tug him away from the prince and despite Youngjae thrashing around and complaining, you manage to send the guest a forced smile and leave his vision. The moment you let go of Youngjae in the neighboring room, he readjusts his collar. “What? Couldn’t you have waited once I was done? Also, was it necessary to crinkle my collar this much?” he hisses but you get straight to the point.

“What is he doing here?”

“Uh, sitting on the couch?”

“That’s not what I mean.” you grit your teeth and land a punch on his arm. “What is he doing here?”

Youngjae looks over your shoulder, making sure that what he’s about to say next is only heard by you. “Prince Chan is,” he hesitates, unsure how to approach his topic. You know it’s taking up his last nerves to conclude a logical explanation as the tip of his tongue pokes out of the corner of his lips; a habit he has adapted ever since he stopped chewing on his bottom lip. “The predicament he’s in is worse than we expected. Well, his dad is partially at fault because he forgot to tell us this not-so-small critical detail that—“

“Youngjae, you’re rambling.”

“The point is.” he sighs and gives you a distressed look as if he already knows you’re not going to like the information at all. “We can’t send him to the family in Goyang, the place he was originally going to stay in. He’s one of the more extreme cases and the Board agreed that he had to live with one of the active combatants to ensure his safety.”

Silence engulfs the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for you to count two and two together.

“He’s going to live here,” you deadpan eventually and Youngjae nods in confirmation.

“I know you’re not very happy—“

“Not very happy is underwhelming.” You earn a flick against your forehead and yelp in pain as you over the spot he just hit. “Ow! I was just stating the truth!”

“Will you stop interrupting me? Geez. Yes, I know that you’re not happy at all. I know that you’re not a huge fan of the majority of our family working in this business. But please do me this one favor or so help me God— try to be nice to him for the next year.”

“He’s staying for a year?” you shriek and in the blink of an eye, Youngjae clamps your mouth shut.

“Can you keep it down?!” he whisper-yells, then retreats his hand and reverts to a conversational tone with a frown. “It’s just a year, okay? Y’know, just... say hi to him whenever you see him. Act civilized.”

You grimace as he stresses his last words like you didn’t know what human decency was. The longer you keep the petrified expression on your face, the more it turns into a staring contest between the two of you. Just as if you were each other’s reflection, you mimic his actions and vice versa. When Youngjae squints, you squint. When you shoot him a glare, he returns it. It all boils down to the final blink that Youngjae feints and you’re the first to look away.

“Okay fine! I’ll try to behave,” you mumble in defeat.

A satisfied smile makes its way on Youngjae’s lips. “It’s always nice negotiating with you.”

Being born into a family where the majority works for the royalty protection program (short: RPP or as you like to stylize it: argh-pee-pee), also known as the secret service for people with crowns on their heads, comes with many perks. In your eyes, this privilege comes with many, many downsides that aren’t worth the advantages. Sure, there is the one or other occasion where you can waltz around in fancy evening attire and attend an actual ball, but overall, it’s a pain in the ass.

Even though it’s prohibited to openly declare that you work for the RPP, the news always finds its way out. Usually, it takes approximately a week for pretty much half of the neighborhood to find out. And it certainly isn’t nice hearing whispers about your dad being that guy working for the program whenever you step out of your house, which is ultimately why you moved in with your cousin Youngjae. (Housing in your small town wasn’t really affordable for a dirt poor college student after all!)

Youngjae has always been your favorite cousin out of the... whatever number of cousins you have. But here’s the thing. He also works for the RPP.

However, somehow he managed to — and up to this day it still remains a mystery to you how on earth he did that — keep his job a secret. Especially with his tendency to dish out the worst kinds of secrets when he’s slightly tipsy. Frankly, you once considered printing out the image of a trophy for that remarkable feat.

With your dad and cousin both active in that business (because organization sounds too shady), it’s not the first time you meet a prince, so you already know how the entire thing works. The concept is quite simple; they get sent to a household but before they settle in and take on a fake identity until their circumstances have improved, they undergo a makeover. Most of the time, it ends up in the glow up you secretly crave but in Prince Chan’s case, you suppose he can’t get any more attractive.

Oh boy. You’re in for a ride.

You’re busy slicing bell peppers for the meal you were cooking when both your cousin and the prince enter the kitchen and Youngjae explicitly demands you to pay them attention. You don’t react immediately, but the moment he threatens to swipe the knife away from you, you perk up and set your desire to prepare your fried rice aside.

“(y/n), uh, hi? I’m Bang Chan and I’ll be your new housemate for a year. I hope we can get along.” Chan recites his introduction without any mistakes and earns a way too brotherly pat on the back from Youngjae, considering that they just met this morning. It’s truly amazing how fast Youngjae can get people to warm up to him. 

Chan is stripped out of his weird clothes and instead, looks like he threw on the next best thing lying around in his room. Nonetheless, despite the seemingly little effort that was put into the outfit, it looks oddly good. The stylists didn’t seem to do much to his hair and just parted his bangs a little, so one could catch a slight glimpse of his forehead. It’s just a small detail, but you find yourself liking his current appearance much more appealing than before, though you’re pretty sure his clothes played a major part in your previous distaste. 

“Remember Jihyo?” Youngjae interrupts your train of thought. “She’s Chan’s relative. And because I’m the genuine friend who loves to help her out, I decided to agree to this after she went down on her knees and begged me to let Chan live with us for a while—“

“I’m not interested in your blown up, fictional background stories, thank you very much.” you backtrack. “Wait. Did you say Jihyo? Seriously? Jihyo is his alibi?” Of course, you remember Jihyo. It’s quite difficult to forget her when Youngjae used to swoon about her at every hour of the day, back when they were a thing. Besides, she still stops by every few months.

“C’mon, you have to admit there is a similar vibe between them!” 

You furrow your brows and inspect Chan a second time. Your gaze wanders back to Youngjae and then returns to Chan anew. It’s obvious that the latter is feeling as if he were up for auction and you can’t really blame him for feeling so uncomfortable. You’ve heard from a few friends that if looks could kill, you’d have the highest killing record. 

There’s no similar vibe in your view, but for the sake of entertaining Youngjae’s thoughts: “He does seem similar to Jihyo.”

“Told ya. But back to more important matters,” Youngjae coughs and wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer, but it somehow seems as if he’s opting to strangle you. “My duties are calling, so I won’t be back until late. You look like you could need some help with cooking, by the way. I’m sure Chan right here is willing to help you!”

“I’m almost done though—“ you choke when he tightens his embrace. By now, his arm is no longer hugging your shoulder, but rather crushing your throat.

“You look like you could need some help,” he repeats, this time with added urgency. “It’d be a great opportunity for you to bond since you’ll also share pretty much all classes at uni. Did you know, he has the same major as you! Besides, it’d be a very useful life experience for him if he helped you with cooking.”

“Of course, how fun!” you hiss, voice going an octave higher from the lack of oxygen. “I already said that I’m painfully delighted about that, so you can let me go now, Youngjae!”

A sneer and a jab in his arm later, Youngjae finally takes his leave. That nasty liar, leaving an hour earlier than his schedule stated. You know that silently cursing at him isn’t going to make your problems dissolve because that’d be a dream come true.

“Listen, let me get things straight.” you sigh, picking up the knife to resume chopping your vegetables. Youngjae may have ordered you to act civilized, but having eye contact with Chan when you’ve been starving for the past hour isn’t your priority. Food doesn’t make itself. “I don’t have any intention of getting close to you and I expect the same from you. Don’t step a foot into my room, don’t talk to me unless absolutely necessary, and don’t think I’ll run around and do your chores or cook your meals like one of your little servants. Just because you’re a prince doesn’t mean you’ll be treated like one under this roof.”

“We live in the 21st century, not the renaissance. Your idea of royal families is very dated.” Chan chuckles dryly.

“Baron Yoon Jeonghan from the seven islands is a stuck-up prick and out of touch with the world. It took him several visits to the slums, multiple voluntary hours at the kindergarten, and stripping him off his bank card to make him see reason,” you deadpan. Fuck Baron Jeonghan. Just thinking about your first and last encounter with that entitled douchebag almost makes you slice your finger instead of the bell pepper. “Duchess Yoo Shiah threw a hissy fit when she found out her clothes weren’t dry cleaned and bought from Zara instead of fucking Dior. The one who takes the cake when it comes to privilege is Princess Kim Min—”

“Everyone knows they are problematic,” Chan interjects. True, he has a point. There’s nobody out there who doesn’t know about Baron Jeonghan or Duchess Shiah but he’s also missing the entire point.

“And guess who gets stuck under the care of the RPP?” you raise a brow at him. He blanches at the realization as if he got struck with lightning. Perhaps you should give him more credit because he seems to own more brain cells than Baron Jeonghan. “Exactly. Everyone problematic.” 

Chan’s jaw is clenched as he racks his brain to come up with a smart comeback. The sight of him stumbling on his words is nothing but pitiful, so you turn back to the cutting board and grab an onion to slice in half. “I’m not interested in your sob story, your Highness. I don’t care why you’re under the protection of the RPP. The only thing I care about is that you stay out of my business.”

“Chan is fine. No need for the title,” he sighs with a strain. “Perhaps I should’ve been more considerate with my first comment. Youngjae already told me about your… negative attitude towards the entire setup. It wasn’t my intention to anger you. Sorry.”

Well, that’s new. Out of the dozens of aristocrats you’ve met (and sadly also shared a house with back when you were 16 years old and still living with your dad), he’s the first to drop his title within five minutes for the sake of the disguise and apologize. 

“We live under the same roof so we should get along with each other. If there’s something you need help with, just ask me, (y/n).”

“Thanks for the offer,” you reply nonchalantly because act civilized unless you want to suffer from a late-night sneak attack from Youngjae if he finds out. “But no thanks. I don’t need your help.”

You find yourself in need of help a few weeks later, right before the dreaded exam season.

“No. Forget it, Bam. I’m not going out clubbing with you tonight. In fact, I won’t do that anytime soon.” you let out an exasperated sigh as you try to break down to your friend that you prioritize your grades over his need of getting wasted.

“C’mon!” he whines so loudly that you have to put your phone farther away from your ear. “You’re not in that much stress yet! You have to make the most out of it before you drown in your exams.”

“Things are different for engineering students like, uh, me for example!” you hiss. “I fell behind and need to catch up. Ask Yugyeom or Changbin.”

“First of all, Yugyeom is always at the bar doing his job. And Changbin never picks up his phone. There’s nobody who’d dance with me!”

“You abandoned me at the bar for some chick the last time,” you deadpan. “I’m very sure you’ll find someone.”

Bambam finally gets the gist and gives up. “Fine then. Your loss. Have fun dying in numbers and variables instead of living in the moment. You’re going to regret it—”

You end the call and set your phone on mute before throwing it on the bed. Sometimes you wonder whether you were on drugs when you decided to major in engineering. The longer you stare at the jumble of numbers and letters — some of them in Greek too — the more you think your brain cells are decaying.

That’s how you find yourself in the kitchen, complaining at Youngjae’s expense and telling him how much you’d rather drown in bleach than subjecting yourself to Algebra II. 

“You know there’s someone you can ask for help and he’s right here,” Youngjae drawls before chugging down the rest of his beer. If he’s going to be a victim to your temper tantrum about a major that you chose yourself, he might as well get a drink so he won’t go insane from your monologue about numbers and graphs and formulas he’s forgotten since he graduated from high school.

You gawk at him. “You? Are you hearing yourself? You almost failed maths. Twice!”

“Because I didn’t mean myself, dipshit,” he says blankly and his eyes flit over your shoulder, “Speaking of the devil. There comes the man of honor.”

You whip your head back to the door to see Chan enter confusedly. “Uh, did I interrupt something?”

“Yes.”

“No, we were just talking about you!”

You send Youngjae a death glare which he casually shrugs off. “(y/n) here is bitching about her Statistics I class and needs a tutor!”

“It’s actually Algebra II if you bothered to pay attention—”

“(y/n) needs a tutor!” Youngjae exclaims and nearly trips on his feet when he gets up from his chair. “Channie, I heard you’re good with numbers. Didn’t you get accepted into all Ivy Leagues in the States for all engineering programs?”

“You didn’t have to word it like that,” Chan laughs it off and nervously rubs the back of his head. He’s not denying it though.

“Obviously he would. He’s loaded and lives in a castle,” you mutter under your breath, but everyone catches it.

“Hey,” Youngjae warns. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“It’s alright,” Chan says casually. “I just wanted to get myself a snack. But if you have some questions, don’t hesitate to knock on my door. The offer still stands, y’know.” He digs through the cabinet until he finds two packs of the strawberry flavored Pocky knockoff that is 1) apparently his favorite thing to eat and 2) half the price of the Pocky version. He gives Youngjae a thumbs up before he returns to his room.

The moment Chan is out of sight, Youngjae whips his head to you, nostrils flaring. All that’s missing is steam coming out of his ears and his face running red and then he looks like the impetuous brother in every kids cartoon ever. “Really? He’s been staying with us for how long now? Four weeks? Five? Yet you’re still acting as if he murdered you in your dreams or something.”

“I don’t like him,” you state coldly. Youngjae looks like he’s about to rip his hair out.

“Look, I get that you don’t like me being active in this field of work, and I get that you have some hatred against the royal families. But you know you signed up for this when you decided to move in with me.” Youngjae pauses to get a breather and pop a new beer bottle open. “Besides, Chan isn’t like Baron Jeonghan or Duchess Shiah. I have eyes, (y/n), and I’ve seen you two avoiding each other as much as possible. And he doesn’t just laze around — he does the fucking chores and cooks dinner too! Chan is good, (y/n).”

The last words make you snap. “Good? Are you fucking serious? Because that’s why the press in his kingdom is depicting him as a tyrant who cares more about building his sick harem instead of helping the poor. And wasn’t he diagnosed for having anger management issues?!”

All the color leaves Youngjae’s face. This is obviously something you shouldn’t know. While he’s scrambling for words, you take the chance to add, “Dunno why you’re protecting him when he’s making headlines as a prince who can’t keep his dick in his pants.”

“Chan isn’t just a prince,” Youngjae says quietly. “He’s the crown prince.”

Your eyes widen at the confession. “What? Isn’t that even worse with that reputation he has?”

“It’s all propaganda,” he sighs and takes a swig, “The ministers are doing everything they can to finish him off. You see, Chan is the only child of the current king of the seven islands, and if he’s wiped out, it’ll be utter chaos. Chan’s smart and I admit, he used to have anger issues, but he’s worked on them. Though I guess he’s resorted to bottling up his feelings when push comes to pull. The point is, all the higher-ups don’t want him as their future king because they know that Chan is very much capable of pulling through with his own ideas and that doesn’t sit well with them. And a supposedly impulsive future king is the last thing anyone wants, hence why his people are eating up the news.”

“Oh.” you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel an ounce of remorse. However, it’s not the first time you’ve heard such stories. 

“Yeah. Oh,” Youngjae mocks, “If that’s the main reason why you don’t want to talk to him, now you know better. He might have power, but he’s not a monster. And for the record, he got into all Ivy Leagues and elite schools all over the world through his intelligence, not his status.”

Although you can see it in his eyes that Youngjae is done with the heated discussion, he’s still waiting for you to say something. You frown. “So… you think he’s a good tutor?”

“He’s your only shot.” Youngjae says nonchalantly, then adds with a warning tone, “But remember: Act. Civilized. Oh, and don’t tell him I told you about his circumstances. It’s supposed to be confidential information.”

You roll your eyes. How the fuck hasn’t Youngjae been busted yet?

Nonetheless, you’re trudging to Chan’s door a few minutes later, your fat binder of incomprehensible math formulas and (Greek) letter heavy in your arm. Chan opens the door with surprise etched on his face after you knocked, but it settles to warmth when you begrudgingly ask him to help you understand Algebra II. 

“Sorry, it’s a little messy here,” he chuckles airily once he lets you in. It’s not messy per se, just a few clothes piled up in a corner of the room and some books and messily written notes lying on his bed. Still, it’s by far cleaner than the pig stall that is Youngjae’s room (and yours when you’re having a very bad day).

Chan clears his desk and drags his other chair to the table before plopping down on it. “So, what’s the problem?” Instead of answering, you just shove a sheet of paper up his face. “Y’know, you can talk to me. If this is about earlier, it’s really alright. I’m not mad or anything,” he says with the same friendly tone you’ve been hearing ever since he moved in, yet he still takes the sheet from you. You watch his brows scrunch together the more he reads on, and you can already see the question forming in his mind.

“(y/n), you do know this is the basis to understand—”

“I was absent when the professor covered it and everyone I asked couldn’t quite explain it to me,” you respond before he can finish speaking out his thoughts. “All my friends were like—” you gesture with your hands, “—you just do this and that and then hope your hunch is right. Before you say it, yes I know that I don’t get the material of one entire unit and the exam is two weeks away.”

“Then let’s not waste any time,” Chan says before grabbing his iPad. You stare at him blankly as he writes something on his tablet. The last thing you expected from him was to accept it and try to hammer as much of missing information as he can into your brain, but then again, you’ve never seen him backtrack whenever Youngjae asks him something. Speaking of Youngjae, perhaps he is right. Chan does seem to know what he’s talking about.

“You have to subtract X first, then replace it with Y,” he explains as he circles said letters in different colors. By now, you’ve leaned closer to him to get a better view on what he’s writing (his handwriting isn’t the worst you’ve ever had to decode; refer to Youngjae who you’ve internally awarded with the worst handwriting of the decade). 

Chan is exceptionally good at explaining. You feel like you’ve figured out a secret of the world that not even Pythagoras found out as you slowly understand what on Earth you are supposed to calculate with the formula. Chan is patient, always asking if you got it or if you needed another clarification, and takes the time to draw colorful graphs to visualize the jumble of numbers. His voice is pleasing to the ear too, soft and gentle to the point where you’ve blurred everything out except Chan. Chan’s voice. Chan’s hand.

You didn’t mean to stare, but with him always adding something new every five seconds as he goes on with his monologue, you can’t help but do so. His fingers aren’t long — that’ll always be courtesy of Hyunjin from Subway and yes, his very pretty hands might be the sole reason you only insist on going to that one specific Subway at the intersection next to KFC — but just one glance at Chan’s hand and you know that he’s strong. 

He’s barely applying pressure to the pen, but you can see the veins slightly protruding. Chan’s sleeves are pushed back and if you move your head a bit, you’re more than certain that veins are bulging out from his forearms too. However, you don’t muster up the courage to do that because Chan will definitely notice and the last thing you want on your platter is to tell him that you were too busy checking out his arms instead of listening to him talk about Algebra II.

Eventually, Chan sets the pen down to stretch his hand. He says something, but you don’t pick up what exactly. Not that it’d matter much anyway since you’re too busy admiring his hand—

“(y/n), you there? I called out your name several times but you didn’t react.” Chan’s breath hitches and surprise flashes in his eyes for a split second when his gaze meets yours. You don’t understand his hesitation, but then horror bubbles in you once you realize that his hand is firmly gripping your chin and keeping your head pointed at his direction. The very same hand you’ve been staring at for God knows how long. 

“I’m good. Just a little tired, but I’m good,” you stutter, though it comes out very breathlessly as if you just finished a marathon.

“Tired?” Chan echoes, concern settling into his features. “You should’ve said so, then I would’ve stopped talking. You need something?”

Now that you think about it, you’ve never got a close look at Chan. Sure, he’s handsome, the countless pictures of Google prove that he’s also too photogenic for his own good (goddamnit, why didn’t your parents make you just as photogenic?) but in person, he’s something else. His lips are plush and look very inviting to kiss, and the lower your eyes wander, the more you see a toned chest hidden underneath that damn shit that hugs him in all the right places.

Fine, his hands aren’t the only attractive thing about him. Then again, he’s a prince.

“I said I’m good.” you snap out of your thoughts and finally gather enough control over your nerves to tear his hand away. “And I caught everything you said.” Of course, you know that’s a blatant lie and he knows so too from the way he’s looking at you. That is until he quirks a brow.

“Okay, then what did I say before I called you?”

Your mouth feels dry. It’s almost as if he knew the reason for your distress. “I caught everything relevant to this,” you mutter, suddenly finding his curtains much more interesting. What an interesting design, maybe you should get yourself new curtains too—

“Then you wouldn’t mind solving these questions, right? Just so I can make sure that you got everything down.”

“Sure,” you reply because that’s the only thing you could say without hurting your ego and straining your vocal cords. Chan doesn’t comment any further and looks for some practice questions before sliding the iPad to you. Already the first question makes your head spin in disdain. Numbers? Variables? Never heard of them.

Chan is watching you like a hawk as you fiddle with the pen, unable to write down anything that makes remote sense. Feeling his eyes on you makes you feel helpless and you shift around in your seat. “What are you staring at?” you glare at him once you give up for good, and you just hope that your look is as intimidating as you pictured in your head.

“You’re definitely exhausted. You’re shaking,” Chan points out. Your eyes widen as you stare down and realize that your thighs are shaking, and it’s then and there when you realize that you’re feeling hot. Seems like Chan doesn’t realize that because the worry written on his face is genuine. “You say the exam’s in two weeks right? We can stop for today and work on this tomorrow. That is if you still want my help.”

You nod and add in a tiny voice, “Yes, please.”

You’re too busy ignoring the heat building between your thighs to notice the borderline feral sound that leaves Chan.

“And here I thought you had quality bonding time.” Youngjae gives a disappointed look. “You’re acting even colder towards him than before your exam meltdown. Your prick level can only stoop down so low.”

You ended up getting tutor lessons from Chan every day before the dreaded day of judgment: the exam in Algebra II. You spent more hours in his room than on your own if you were completely honest, and the results were fruitful. While you did manage to pass the exam with a fairly high score, the price you had to pay was hell.

It’s almost as if Chan caught up on your hand fixation. Sometimes he twirled the pen in his fingers, sometimes it was the simple bracelet dangling on his wrist. Just when you thought he had you figured out, he asks you if you’re alright, visibly oblivious to his effect on you. Such duality in a person should be illegal, you conclude. If you die from whiplash, you know who the perpetrator is.

“You were the one who pretty much pressured me into asking him for help,” you drawl.

“I had good intentions only! You can’t keep up the I-hate-royal-families-blah-blah mentality the entire time!” Youngjae wails before stuffing a handful of chips in his mouth.

“Watch me.” You internally cringe at the loud crunching sounds he’s making and add vigorously, “And stop chewing so loudly.”

“You’ll get around or so help me God—” he groans when his phone buzzes. He doesn’t spare a glance at the caller ID because there’s only one person who has set his ringtone to the baby shark song specifically for when he’s calling. “I gotta go, Jinyoung’s being a bitch again. Don’t murder somebody. Thanks.” You only watch him shuffle for his bag and grab a handful of chips before he’s out the door. Groaning, you clean up the mess he’s made on the table. 

Just as you’re done wiping the crumbs off the surface, Chan pads into the room. 

“Hey, can we talk?”

“I established right at the beginning that you should only talk to me when absolutely necessary.” you scowl, trying to walk past him.

“Well, this is important,” he urges and blocks the doorway, effectively stopping you from fleeing. “And I do deserve one conversation with you after I helped you out.”

“You offered on your own. That’s not the same as asking for a favor.” You successfully push your way past him, but in the next moment, he spins you around and pins you against the wall. 

“We’re going to talk, whether you like it or not.” The sudden coldness of his tone has shivers running down your spine. Chan holds your wrist in an iron grip and if he clutched on any tighter, you wouldn’t put it past him to break your bones. Out of options, you comply and give him a curt nod before he lets go and takes a step back. 

“I don’t understand you, (y/n). I genuinely thought you would put your prejudices aside but instead, all I get are mixed signals from you.”

It’s your turn to gawk. “Me? Mixed signals? What are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about how you keep looking at me as if you want me to fuck your brains out.” If the color hasn’t drained from your face yet, it has now. Chan smiles wickedly at your horrified reaction but doesn’t stop there. “I’m talking about how you talk like you don’t want anything to do with me but act as if you’re begging for my attention.” He takes a step closer to you, and you wish you could morph with the wall. “I’m talking about how you keep staring at my hands and think I don’t notice it.” You wince when he rests his hands against the wall on each side of your face, leaning closer so that you can feel his breath on your lips. “So, you have a thing for my hands?” Bullseye.

“You’re so full of yourself. No wonder your ministers want to get rid of you,” you snap because you’d rather suffer from food poisoning than admitting that you want Chan’s fingers in you.

Something shifts within Chan. He gapes at you, clearly not expecting you to even know about the ministers. His demeanor darkens in a blink of an eye, and you feel like your legs are about to give up on you when you meet his eyes, black and feral.

“You’re playing with fire. Don’t anger me,” he warns, voice low and rough.

“So it’s true that you resorted to bottling up your feelings, your Highness?” you cock your head to the side. Chan clenches his jaw at the mention of his title, struggling to keep his anger in check. You laugh through your nose, then grab one of his hands and force it away from the wall. If he already knows that you’re thirsting after him, might as well go for it. “It’s funny how your ministers aren’t able to string you around like a puppet yet here you are, unable to do anything against a commoner. You know you have nice hands and you know my weakness and yet, you’re not using them on me.” He gulps when you fumble with his fingers. 

And then he understands.

“Unless I misread the situation,” he says darkly, though you distinguish the slight tremor his voice carries. “Do you really want this? I’m not going to go easy on you.” Chan is dead serious, judging by the way he’s looking at you expectantly. 

“The safe word is petunia.” You don’t take your eyes off him and add in a louder tone, “Now try me, do your worst.”

“You’re going to regret wanting me at my worst,” Chan growls and before you know it, he crashes his lips against yours. The kiss is anything but sweet, more of a clash of teeth and tongues and saliva dribbling down your chins, yet it leaves you boiling hot and wobbly on your feet. He presses you up against the wall and forces his leg between yours, the sudden contact making you hunch forward. You moan against his mouth when he tugs harshly on your hair, the sting making your nerves go haywire. In the meantime, your hands roam his upper body, blunt nails digging into his shoulders as you try to buck your hips against his leg. While he doesn’t budge, you manage to elicit a groan out of him.

When you pull away, you’re both gasping for air. Chan’s hair is disheveled from the way you’ve been pulling on them, lips pink and glossy. One look in his eyes is enough to make your heart stop beating. They’re dark and animalistic and set ablaze with unfiltered lust. You’re such in a daze from a simple kiss that you nearly stumble when Chan drags you to his room.

He manhandles you on his bed with ease before his lips latch on yours once more. You nearly sob when he rids you off your pants, putting pressure in all the right places to have you losing your mind. As you’re about to gain back some dominance in the kiss, he breaks it off. His fingers that were once ghosting over your underwear are now tracing patterns all over the material, making you spasm. “You’re such a brat, all bark but no bite. All it takes is one kiss and you’ve lost all your fight. Can you get any more pathetic?” he mocks as he focuses his fingertips directly on the wet patch of your underwear. Your eyes roll back as he rubs on the same spot, the broken moans leaving you eerily similar to cries. “Don’t tell me you’re about to come like this. How sensitive are you?”

“Am n-not—” you cut yourself off with a whimper when he lets the waistband snap against your skin.

“Yeah, you sure about that?” he grins and that’s when you break, feeling your high approaching at lightning speed. 

“Don’t wanna come like this—” 

“But I thought you’re not sensitive?” the satisfied grin just widens with every syllable that leaves his lips. “If you don’t want to come like this, all over your underwear, beg.” 

Chan applies even more force to your sensitive spots, and you struggle to have a clear thought. The smirk he delivers is lethal, and you couldn’t be any more convinced that he’s the devil’s incarnate.

“I’ll do anything, please. Don’t let me come like this, that’s all I’m a-aah-asking for,” you weep, your blood nearly boiling at its climax, “I’ll even take a punishment!”

“Say my name,” he orders, fingers still drawing circles.

“Your—”

“My name, not my title.”

Your breath hitches as you finally realize what he’s aiming for. He wants you to remember that it’s him who’s reducing you into this illiterate mess. Him, the one you’ve been despising since before you even met. If you still had any ounce of dignity left, you’d try to fix the power imbalance until you’re left with no choice but to obey, but now you’re so close and the last thing you want to do is come with your pants on.

“Please, Chan,” your voice breaks towards the end and in an instant, he pulls away. As you’re letting you’re basking in the break from his brutal tempo, not too affected by how your upcoming orgasm is fading away, Chan observes you.

And then out of nowhere, he flips you on your stomach and delivers a hard smack to your ass that has you screaming into the pillows.

“You said you’d take any punishment too, right?” You twitch as he rubs the small of your back. You can already imagine the handprints on your ass he continued to slap you with such force that has you moving up the bed. The pain that’s going to haunt you for days. Before you know it, you try to arch your back to lift your ass, but then the bed shifts. “But if you really think I’m going to spank you as a punishment, then you’re really fucking dumb. As if I’ll use my hands on you when we both know you love my hands.”

With that, he drops himself on his chair, spreading his legs that you can see the prominent tent forming in his pants. He orders you over with a flick of his finger, and just as you get up from the bed, a new wave of horror flushes over you.

“Crawl.”

The look you send him is priceless. There’s no fucking way you can do it. It’s just a few meters, nothing you can’t handle, but he’s there sitting on his Ikea swivel chair as if it’s his throne made of gold, watching your every movement like a predator. And then there’s you, only in a shirt and underwear, being forced to go on all fours as if you were his fucking dog—

The difference in power display couldn’t get any more visible. He really is the fucking worst.

“You’d really do anything, huh…” he muses as you drop on your hands and knees and crawl to him, never looking up. It’s only when he beckons you to stand up that you look at him with nothing but rage and shame in your eyes. Chan has always been slightly terrified with your death stare but right now, he can’t take it seriously and it shows. It shows in the way he smiles lopsidedly, in the way his brows quirk in amusement. “Now hump my leg.”

Humiliation runs through your body all over. Your fists are clenched as he waits for you to act, even pats his thigh in case you didn’t get the memo. But oh you do, and his thigh does look inviting.

“Hump my leg like the brainless bitch you are. If you want my hands or my cock, you earn it first. Especially since you treated me like shit ever since I moved in.” The last sentence burns you badly because he has a point. But then there’s the prospect of his hands and dick that’s bulging out of his pants. 

Pushing all thoughts away, you settle on his leg. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you tell yourself it’s all good and then you move. The first thrust knocks all air out of your lungs and you grab onto his shoulders for support. You didn’t even move that much, but Chan’s looking at you as if he’s about to fucking devour you and knowing that he is very much capable of moving you around, you’re starting to become overwhelmed.

Eventually, you lose yourself in the feeling of his rough jeans against your drenched underwear, humping on his thigh as your orgasm builds up. It’s silent, save for your pants, and the countless whimpers flying past your lips as your movements gradually become sloppier. You’re almost there and you know it. But so does Chan, and the moment he’s got it figured out, he lunges from your hips and forces you to pick up the pace. 

“Oh no, you’re going to come,” he growls, ignoring your pleas and sobs. Adrenaline courses in your blood and you know it isn’t long until you fall apart. You try to make him stop, even put your hands on his, but you don’t have the energy to actively push him away.

“Chan, please— I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna come? Then fucking come on my thigh, (y/n),” he snaps, and then adds, “You hear that? You’re about to come from humping my thigh.”

Maybe it’s the realization that he’s right, maybe it’s the way he’s worded it. Either way, it’s the last straw to make you spasm as you come, soaking your underwear and even managing to make a mess out of his pants. Chan makes sure you ride through your orgasm, only stopping to move your hips once you’re all spent and resting your head on his shoulder. Your eyes are glassy, vision foggy, but the only thing you can envision clearly is Chan.

Chan jolts when your hand grazes over his bulge. You’re about to undo his pants, but he’s quick to stop you and restrict your hands behind your back.

“You think you deserve my cock? Dream on. As if I would fuck any commoner, especially those who don’t respect me,” he spits, and you flinch at his choice of words, clearly recalling that you used the exact same terms and he’s now using it against you. “You said you’d take any punishment. Well, guess what? This was just punishment number one.”

[buddyfromearth]

Object of Affection

For @gothamsworst​ because your entire penguin tag has put into me a great fire to write a sheepish significant other for him.  Mind you, I haven’t written fanfiction since high school so forgive me if I get something wrong (I’m still getting into DC and my parents think it’s embarrassing because I had a lobo phase out of high school.)

Notes: confessions of love; sfw (some slight implications at the end but it cuts off because that’s not going on this blog here); aw, gee, he brought a bouquet of flowers; hey who ordered flirting because here’s some; several headcanons in one go let’s go people; I can write pretty words I just mostly refuse to in favor of making it all comics instead; idea of flirting is just walking up with a bouquet and going “marry me”; I don’t know what I’m doing I’ve never written this guy before.

EDIT: fixed some things.

 Stuck between yearning for love and the fear of rejection was a difficult place to be. It was at least easier to know rejection than it was to have yearning for love going totally unanswered.  Oh, what pain it was. 

   Oswald Cobblepot, that troublesome Penguin known about Gotham as one hell of a man to cross, was madly in love.  Yes, an unfortunate feeling to have.  But he couldn’t help it.  Not this time, at least. 

   It was someone he’d seen around the lounge, lurking nearby where he’d watch the penguins. When he saw them around and was able to not make it awkward, he couldn’t help but stare at those eyes all green and deep like some dark thicket.  And those venomous eyes did plenty of staring back: he could feel their gaze fixated on him whenever he was working at the lounge. 

   Really, though, what did he know about this crush that had taken his entire heart by a single blow?  Well, he knew enough.  His eyes about Gotham told him that they weren’t much of anything besides a total hermit: mostly stayed home at a ground-floor apartment in a low-rent yet slightly decent part of town (as decent as the city could be, anyway), and had everything that was needed for living delivered to their door.  No car: only ever ventured out on a trike with a headlight on the front and a trunk on the back.  He wasn’t even sure what they did for a living. 

   At the very least Oswald knew he could find them lurking around the lounge.  So, that’s exactly where he went. 

   Of course, such an event was not something to go into completely unprepared.  He pulled out a nice suit, as usual, with all the fine accoutrements he was well-known for.  An umbrella in one hand and a large bouquet of bloody red roses in the other.  Even went out of the way to pick out cologne, albeit he preferred not to.  He wanted to make the best impression he could. 

   It was just that odd hour before the post-work rush.  Oswald hoped he’d not come in on a wrong night.  Trying not to draw too much attention, he made a long sort of awkward path over to where they usually were. 

   There they were, right at that surprisingly bare table he got used to passing by.  There was a pencil case pushed to one side, and it sat next to a tall glass of what he thought might be soda (of course, he wasn’t about to just try it: that would be a bit too much).  They were hunched over something in front of them, and their hands moved quickly with a pencil and a brush. 

   “Excuse me, my dear,” started Oswald, with a soft tone so as to not scare this beloved mystery away, “but is this table taking guests?” 

   They jumped.  Oswald feared he’d gone too fast.  Oh, wonderful, now he’d scared them off! 

   They looked up and met his eyes.  What was once a terrified look behind thick glasses quickly melted into something tender and rather curious.  “Oh.”  Their voice had an astoundingly flat affect, hinting at an origin out in midland farming country with the slight tint to it.  They cleared their throat, and moved their bag to the other side.  “S-sure thing, sir, sure.  Wasn’t expecting anyone to be over here tonight.  Normally people only ever come over to ask for free work from me.”  Their voice was soft and quiet as they spoke: an absolutely adorable sound that hit just right in his ears.  He could listen to it talk forever. 

   “Excellent.”  Oswald sat down directly next to them, putting the umbrella to rest on the seat beside him. 

   Their face quickly changed colors.  It went from a sickly pale in the lowlight to being absolutely taken over with blush.  “R-right, s-sure.  Please, forgive me for asking, but haven’t I seen you around here before?” 

   “Of course you would have seen me here before,” said Oswald, rolling his eyes slightly.  “I own this lounge, after all.” 

   “Oh, I…” They stopped for a moment, and their mouth was slightly agape as they appeared to slowly mentally register the weight of the situation.  Then their eyes shot wide open and they gave up a nervous smile with chattering teeth. “M-Mr. Cobblepot, sir.  I-I-I didn’t think I was something you’d… well, y’know, actually come over to see?” 

   “Quite the contrary,” said Oswald, moving in closer and putting an arm around their shoulder.  “You’ve captured my attention with how much you care about my darlings.  I see you in here and I can’t help but wonder if you’re some kindred soul.”  He gestured just slightly over at the centerpiece of the lounge, the namesake iceberg with a whole group of penguins he often spent hours watching on his days off.

   They looked over to where he gestured, and then they nodded quickly.  The nervousness quickly got itself out of that smile, and their entire posture melted into one of repose.  “Your penguins, right.  Right, the penguins!  Of course! They’re so cute: little communal flipper birds that just waddle around and honk and preen all day.”  They sighed and smiled, leaning forward and putting their head to rest in their hand.   “What I wouldn’t give for a life so carefree.”

   Oswald immediately had a few ideas come to mind.  Oh, he could take care of that: he could just bring them into his life and get them out of that awful apartment, pamper them with anything and everything they could ever want.  Ask them to move in with you.  Ask them for a date.  Ask them to share a drink.  No, no, no, that’s all too fast!  Play it slowly: perhaps they’ll melt into your arms if you go ahead just right.  

   “How often are you around here, hm?”  Oswald looked over from behind his monocle at this mystery figure that had caught his attention and proceeded to hold it in a vice-like grip, taking a moment to look at what he was dealing with.  Their figure was mostly obscured by big, bulky articles of clothing, but what could be made out was all thick and rolled together like some haphazard cake stacked up far too high for its own good.  It was very easy to look at.  “You seem to know enough about my precious little birds.”  “Perhaps a bit too much” was a phrase he wanted to add, but he wasn’t about to murder this feeling. 

   “I don’t really drink alcohol.  I only really come here to draw the iceberg and all the penguins,” said the mystery crush. “They’re so fun to smush together with their little shapes.  Their little flippers are so cute.  And their little feet are surprisingly complex once you get past all the flub and feathers.” 

   Oh, one of those artist types.  Wait, artist type.  Artist. Oh, this could be good: this could actually be really good for several different reasons!  Not just the romantic pursuit reason, either: perhaps their passion for the arts would include, somewhere in there, a passion for him. 

   “I see.” Oswald reached for the pad of paper they were so vigilantly guarding and said, “I can’t help but have a look at someone’s work regarding my darlings.” 

   A sickly pale hand with chewed-down nails shot over and clamped in on Oswald’s wrist. “Just a second there, Mr. Cobblepot. You have to promise me something first.”

   “Anything, my sweet, anything.” 

   “Don’t tell anyone what you see in this book.  It’s a lot of… well, it’s… bad.” 

   “Oh, I will most certainly be the judge of that.”  Oswald picked up the book, and then handed them the bouquet in return.  “Here, something for you to hold in the meantime.”

   Noting their shocked expression as they carefully took the bouquet in their arms, Oswald began to slowly browse through the contents of the book. 

   What they had said was indeed true: there were a lot of penguins in there.  They were doing all sorts of things: preening their coats, honking, spread out on their stomachs staring at each other, ambling across the ice.  They were all partway realistic, but there was some sort of fantastical flair to them. It was cute: just like them. 

   While flipping through the pages, though, he couldn’t help but notice other pieces. Things like the name of the lounge written out in poster type pieces with his penguins and their little iceberg on it.  There was, undeniably, a unique work of a penguin in a suit like his.  Curious, he turned the page. 

   And what he saw there surprised him greatly. 

   It was not only drawings of patrons with little notes about time scrawled around them that occupied the pages, but there were drawings of him as well.  Little notes here and there about the things he’d wear, the way he’d talk, and the way he moved.  Around one particular piece underlaid with purple markings was a portrait of him smiling: the note around this piece said “Handsome guy but who?”  It was surrounded by little scribbled hearts. 

   Oswald, in his stroke of peacock vanity that got to him every now and again, turned his head slightly as he was gently urged by these things.  “I see that you draw more than birds.” 

   The mystery crush looked over.  They caught a look of what pages he’d come to and they grimaced before sighing and hiding their face in their hands.  “Sorry about that.  I-I draw people a lot, just to stay aware of how to do it.” 

   “It seems you’ve become quite taken with me in these intimate studies,” said Oswald, casting a rather tempered gaze and a matching grin over at the object of his affections as he handed back the book.  “I must admit, I came here tonight thinking you wouldn’t reciprocate the feelings that brought me to you in the first place.” 

   “Oh, wow, feelings?”  The mystery crush smiled and chuckled ever so softly, rubbing their hand along the back of their neck as they took the book and put it back on the table.  “Goodness gracious, Mr. Cobblepot, I didn’t expect a gentlemanly type like yourself to be the romantic type.” 

   “Oh, but isn’t a gentleman always the romantic type?”  Oswald, emboldened by such a soft response, couldn’t help but to pull them in closer.  When they began to blush again, he grinned and pressed a gloved finger to their nose. “I can’t exactly help it.  And please, just call me Oswald.” He then picked up one of their hands and pressed a single, fervent kiss to it.

   “Ah, uh, I guess so,” said the mystery crush, “mister… oh, right, Oswald.  Right, first name basis now.”  Their face was getting hotter by the minute, and they began to stammer over all their words as they put the bouquet on the table.  “I, uh… would, would you be offended if I asked you something kinda personal?” 

   Oswald could already picture several personal questions and perfect little answers to go along with them.  He nodded and held their hands in his.  “Oh, but of course, my dear: anything you ask for, you’ll get it from me.” 

   “Oh.” The mystery crush nodded, their glasses falling down their face in the meantime.  When Oswald reached up and pushed them back to their previous position, they cleared their throat and quickly stammered out, “If you feel so strongly about me, would you mind if I moved in?  I, uh… they hiked the rent on my place again and I have to find a new one before the end of the month.  Don’t make enough.” 

   “Would I mind?  Of course not, dearest bird, of course not.  I have far too many places that need a colorful touch like yours.  You can come with me tonight, if it pleases you, my dear.”

   “You don’t have to be so heavy-handed with all the compliments.” 

   “Oh, but I believe you deserve every last one of them.” 

   “You’re far too kind.”  The mystery crush sighed.  “I hate to tell you this now, after all those compliments and affectionate talk, but I’m kind of a handful, I’m… look, I’m trans and if you’re not into a guy like me, I’m sorry.  I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m- I’m sorry.  We can just go away from this table and never speak about this again.  It… it’ll be fine if we do that.” 

   “Oh, now you just listen to me.”  Oswald put his hands to the mystery crush’s face and leaned it over so they were looking at him. “I don’t rightly care about whether you’re trans or not, and I’ll fund that for you so you can be happy.  You’re just far too pretty of a kindred spirit to be left so alone in such a big city.” 

  “I…” The mystery crush looked baffled. They froze for a moment or two, and Oswald wondered if he had said too much.  After a long silence, they sighed and smiled so big and soft that it couldn’t help but bring him to smile as well.  “Wow.  Thanks.” 

   “Oh, you’re ever so welcome, my dear.”  Oswald pressed his face up to theirs and quickly asked, “May I?” 

   “May you… oh, right.  Right! Yes, you may, Oswald.  You most certainly may!” 

   With that, Oswald couldn’t help but press a kiss to their lips.  Their lips were slightly chapped, and he couldn’t help but nuzzle his face just slightly against theirs in some affectionate attempt to bring intimacy to such a moment.  This move, while unexpected at first, was quickly reciprocated as their hands took hold of his shoulders. 

   Oswald pulled away with a troublesome little grin spread across his lips, and the object of all those affections smiled like this sort of intimacy was brand new to them. “I can’t help but wonder what your name is.” 

   “Look, my name is…”  They stopped for a moment, but then they smiled and just said, “Call me Lou for now. I can’t think of a name that belongs to me.” 

   “Then let’s find that out together.”  Oswald took his umbrella up and moved to stand, offering his hand to Lou.  “Come, I can have a crew bring your things to our home tomorrow.  Tonight, we shall simply be enamored little lovebirds.” 

   Lou laughed.  Their laugh sounded like the call of a bird, with its dragged-out syllables and its pitch. They snorted just slightly as they packed up their things.  “You’re very honest, Oswald.  I like that.  I like that a lot.” 

   “What’s a little honesty between significant others?”  Oswald smiled and shrugged his shoulders. 

   Lou put their bag back on their shoulders and put their hand in Oswald’s as they stood up.  They weren’t much taller than him, and those assumptions he had made about their figure were correct.  “It’s a lot. Let’s go.” 

   Oswald only put his arm around them as the two gently went hand-in-hand to where his driver waited. 

   “What are the plans for this evening, Oswald?” 

   “Oh, I do believe I have a few ideas beginning to come to be.  Just you be patient, my sweet, I’ll tell you when we’re alone.” 

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Green

My first attempt at a modern au! Based off a fantastic idea by @minky-for-short where Stephen and Lucien's relationship starts off as a sugar daddy arrangement!

Please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3

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If anyone had asked- God forbid, he’d rather die- Stephen would have rushed to his own defence. He’d probably have done it while turning bright red and spluttering but he’d have insisted it was just a matter of timing.

It wasn’t a lie. He’d have to work right up until he went to meet Lucien if he wanted to get the reports on his last few cases submitted in time. Lucien had meetings early in the morning, Stephen didn’t want to ask him to push their date back any further than he already had and the thought of cancelling...well that wasn’t an option. Not because of Lucien, who was extremely flexible and understanding as far as people in this kind of arrangement went. He just couldn’t and he wasn’t going to give it any more thought than that.

But it was just because of the timing. Stephen wasn’t getting off on this or anything. There just wasn’t going to be time to change into it between the end of his overly long day at the justiciary and the start of his date so wearing it all under his work clothes was the only option. He’d have insisted that until he ran out of air, if anyone had asked, probably before jumping out of the nearest window.

But this, Stephen did have to admit to himself, was entirely indefensible. This was just because he was a hopeless degenerate.

“Just going to the bathroom,” he announced in what he hoped was a casual tone, dropping his pen down with a thunk on the blanket of newspapers spread out on his desk, ones he’d been scouring for signs of magical miscreancy. More than half of their cases came from just noticing something odd in those tiny stories crushed up into the margins of local papers.

From the desk that joined onto his, though much neater and better organised and with less coffee cup rings etched permanently onto it, Esther looked up with a frown.

“I’m not your teacher, Steph. But okay, good for you,” she muttered before turning back to her computer. She’d lost their game of rock paper scissors that morning so it was her turn to deal with all of the emails that were inevitably sent to the justiciary every day, majority of which were complete nonsense and all of which were painful to read.

Stephen winced, snatching up his phone and making a quick exit before he could make it any more obvious that he was hiding something. Getting to the bathroom was harder that it really should have been, given how close the desks were shoved together, how many stacks of papers sat precariously on desk edges, how many odd trinkets and artefacts humming with magic were left to scatter across the faded carpet. But Stephen had worked there amongst the justiciary’s chaos for long enough that he made it to the other side of the cramped office without causing a disaster, only needing to nudge a few things back into place with his power as he went. Thankfully at this hour there was no one else still here to express their irritation.

The bathrooms in the Council Building were a microcosm of the rest of the place- too small, poorly maintained, outdated and a decent place to cry when overstressed, overworked and overwhelming. But for once, Stephen was rather grateful for that fact because it meant the bathroom was only built for one person at a time, meaning he could lock the door and be confident that no one was going to walk in on him doing what he was about to do.

Stephen pushed back his hair and gave a long, steady exhale. Since he’d entered into this arrangement with Lucien Vaudrey he’d been doing a lot of thinking with cock rather than his brain and, honestly, he’d had no reason to regret it yet. Save a few mornings where walking wasn’t as easy as it might have been.

So his brain didn’t get a look in, he put his back to the door and quickly yanked open the first few buttons of his shirt, just enough that he could pull his collar aside and show a little of what was underneath. Not too much, just the start of the lacy paneling that made up the band that circled his upper chest, the edge of one of the black straps that zig zagged across his body in an array that had taken longer to work out than he was willing to admit.

Stephen ran his thumb along the black lace, shivering a little. He’d been so wrapped up in his work since walking into the office that he’d mostly forgotten it was there but every so often he’d shift in his chair or he’d stand too quickly and he’d feel the feathery touch of all that silk slip between his skin and his clothes like a caress. He’d had to shove the awareness away very quickly before it could send any more than a quick jolt to his groin and was just thankful that today had been one spent entirely at his desk.

But he was only wearing it because of the timing. He was on a tight schedule. Of course.

Now, as he flicked his phone camera open with a thumb and held it at a slightly raised angle like he’d seen people do when they knew far more about taking selfies than he did, he couldn’t help but be aware of it all. The way it snaked around his body and held him tight, branching out like roots hidden in the ground, putting the barest pressure on his hips and chest and the curve of his arse like the ghost of Lucien’s hands. Invisible under his deliberate choice of a dark blue shirt and his usual shabby suit, except for the barest glimpse he was allowing. Only known to him.

And now to Lucien.

Stephen took a quick photo of himself, holding his shirt open with one hand, using a little of his power to brighten his eyes. Of course he didn’t find the picture particularly impressive, all he saw when he looked it back over were the hollowness of his cheeks, the jut of his overly large nose and the immense bags under his eyes. How his hair needed brushing and the out of place tooth that showed in the slight part of his lips. But he’d learned to trust Lucien’s opinion on these things, his blindness to all the flaws that jumped out to his own eyes, and his lover’s response to this picture was too good to pass up for the sake of insecurity.

So he opened up the many texts he’d been exchanging lately with the contact in his phone that was nothing but an emoji of a feather. He typed out a quick message before attaching the photo and sending it on it’s way.

Got your present this morning. What do you think?

Stephen gathered himself together quickly, buttoning his shirt again and checking swiftly in the mirror that nothing was showing through. He wasn’t sure what someone looked like when they were wearing lingerie under their clothes but he tried to make his whatever the opposite of that was. With a thought, he set off the old, roaring hand dryer so it would sound like he’d been doing something people were supposed to do in bathrooms. When dealing with Esther, there was no such thing as overcovering his tracks.

He navigated his way back through the obstacle course of office equipment and magical paraphernalia to where Esther was scowling at her computer screen and stabbing the keys as she typed.

“I swear, if we get one more sodding email about UFOs I’m going to throw this thing out of the window,” she declared, viciously deleting like each one had offended her personally.

“Y’know there are days I wish practitioners actually were secretly working for a cabal of interdimensional aliens,” Stephen hummed, sliding back into his chair, “We’d probably have more funding if we were.”

Esther gave a mirthless snort of laughter, the text on her screen reflecting in her glasses, not even glancing from it as she took a swig of coffee. A mug had appeared on his desk too, freshly steaming.

Stephen was about to thank her when his phone buzzed in his hand, making him jump. He scrambled to check it, feeling his heart thud when he saw it was from Lucien. Two messages, short and sharp and impossible not to read in his cool tones.

Beautiful witch

You are in so much trouble

The handful of hours between those messages and half past ten had felt like an eternity. Enough that Stephen couldn’t hide his haste as he nearly sprinted from the Council Building to the Underground. He spent the long ride from the shabby borough the justiciary called home to Knightsbridge staring at his phone, rereading that message over and over again, his mind running away with all that so much trouble implied. He knew fine well he was going to arrive flushed, already half hard and salivating, ready to do whatever Lucien asked of him.

He wove his way through the evening crowds, stumbling into the bar they always came into. It was a sleek, expensive looking place, the kind of bar he’d never set foot in if he hadn’t been beckoned by Lucien. He felt every penny in his meagre paycheck when he walked through the door but he did like the warmth, the rich leather, the fact that nearly all of the other couples there were pairs of men too. He liked how Lucien would put his arm around him as they sat in their usual booth and he’d feel that flicker of belonging, in spite of everything else.

Stephen’s eyes, betraying his excitement more than anything else by being a sparking gold, tracked over the room until he spotted him. Lucien, having far more control over his working hours, often arrived well before Stephen and sat with his laptop or a book or a newspaper, a glass of whiskey at his elbow. But today the table before him was clear of distractions, he simply sat with his fingers steepled at his lips, his fine features set into an expression of patience. The kind of face a hunting cat would wear, knowing their prey would be along in due course.

And when his clear, grey eyes locked on Stephen, he simply smiled.

Swallowing hard, the younger man leapt to attention, clearing the bar and sliding into the booth with his lover.

“Evening,” he tried, casually, though his heart was hammering and his cock was aching.

“Just what did you think you were playing at, sweet boy?”

Lucien dispensed with the pleasantries, his voice already dropped into the low, rolling tones he used when Stephen was about to lose his clothes. He spoke softly so their conversation didn’t carry past the oak panelled confines of their booth but not enough that Stephen missed the heat in his tone. He tried to get a grip on himself, he had a feeling he’d need to walk across the room before too long.

“I thought you’d want to see,” he shivered as his tone slipped almost unconsciously into something playful, something teasing and faux innocent, an affectation that would have made a past version of himself gape in disbelief, “It looked so pretty and the note said you wanted me to wear it tonight…”

Lucien’s eyes flashed, “Did the note say to be a little prick tease and send filthy pictures to me while I was infuriatingly far away and couldn’t get my hands on you?”

Under the table, Stephen felt Lucien’s far longer, wiry muscled legs slide over his own. After waiting all day even that bare contact, through two layers of clothing, had him swallowing back a whimper.

"No...” Stephen dropped his chin, seeming to bow under the intensity until he let his eyes flicker up and catch Lucien’s, “My lord.”

He watched as the hard line of his lover’s jaw tightened. They’d been in this arrangement for a couple of months now and one thing Stephen had learned, amongst a host of new desires he’d never suspected he owned, was those words. Those words, referencing the titles that Lucien actually did own but denied in his everyday life, were essentially a crooked finger. They were Stephen essentially pinning a badge to himself that read ‘complete and unapologetic brat’, carte blanche for Lucien to master him however he saw fit. To break him, if required.

“Then you deserve everything you’re getting, don’t you?” Lucien shifted into something not unlike a lion winding back to pounce, “Because if you’re going to act like a slut, that’s exactly how I’m going to treat you.”

Stephen felt those words grip him by the nerve endings and he knew fine well he was fidgeting but didn’t know how to stop. He just looked at Lucien with mute, pleading surrender.

“I am going to get up and go into the men’s bathroom,’ Lucien gave the low command, “In five minutes, when you’ve got some kind of control over yourself, you’re going to join me. And I am going to show you what happens when you think you can make me wait. Colour?”

That last word was ever so slightly softer, offered rather than dictated. Lucien never failed to check in with Stephen whenever they were playing. It was in their agreement, of course, but Stephen had the strong sense this was just how the man would be with all his partners, for all his domineering tendencies.

Stephen swallowed and glanced around. There weren’t many people in at this late hour, this bar was more of a sophisticated runway for a night out and most of the crowds had moved to somewhere louder and more raucous. Just a few couples, like them, more wrapped up in each other than anyone else, not quite ready to let their dates end. He did some nervous mathematics on how likely they were to get caught, balancing the number of other customers with his ability to double lock the door with magic, dividing in the failsafe that he could always use a little bit of fluence in a real emergency…

Hopeless degenerate, Day, his brain sighed.

“Green,” he murmured and he couldn’t help the grin that flickered to life on his face, just for a moment.

Lucien clearly forgave the break in character, answering with one of his own before composing himself and smoothly rising, looking effortlessly in control as he loped casually towards the gent’s. Stephen stared at his arse the entire time without much remorse. He’d already made his bed, after all.

He timed the five minutes on his phone, drinking the remainder of Lucien’s whiskey in the meantime, giving the heady, smoky taste of it every scrap of his attention in an attempt to redirect some blood flow. It took the full time before he judged himself ready to walk across the room, before he could scramble up and follow like a dog at his master’s call.

Twice in one day, Stephen found himself endlessly thankful for single-person bathrooms, as he was yanked into one by the front of his shirt and the door slammed behind him with the very reassuring click of a lock. He double secured it with a little magic, all the same, as Lucien kissed him fiercely.

“There you are,” Lucien purred once he was done bruising their lips, not letting go of Stephen’s lapels and keeping him awkwardly standing on his tiptoes, “Surprised you managed to wait the full five.”

“You told me too,” Stephen gasped, aware that Lucien’s eyes were looking into his shirt, hungrily tracing the lines of lace that were now visible.

Lucien chuckled, “Too late to try and be a good boy now, darling. Shirt open. Trousers down.”

Stephen willed the ether into work, knowing it always impressed Lucien just a little to see the buttons and zips and buckles falling away with apparently no effort at all. It was quicker too, only a few moments before he was as instructed, all of the lingerie now visible to Lucien’s searching gaze. He seemed to drink in the sight, his gaze ravenous as those grey eyes slid up and down the length of him.

“Didn’t I tell you that you’d look divine?” Lucien groaned appreciatively, running a finger under the lace trim below his chest, raising goosebumps as he went.

“Uh huh,” Stephen gasped, unable to be more articulate than that, his need drowning everything else, “My lord…”

“Against the sink, sweet boy,” those strong, slightly calloused hands took his shoulders and guided him until he was bracing himself on the edges of the sink, Lucien’s chest pressed against his back, “I want you to see yourself.”

So Stephen watched this other version of himself in the mirror, bathed in harsh light from overhead. He watched as his pupils blew wide, as his slightly swollen lips parted in a gasp when he felt Lucien shift to pull a bottle of something out of his jacket pocket. He watched this ethereal, high contrast version of himself flush as one large hand caressed the curve of his ass through the lace before hooking it to one side. He watched his eyelids flutter and his head tilt back when a slick finger teased him open, and saw his lace wreathed chest heave when it breached him. Stephen watched this man who was somehow him be opened and readied with care and attention, felt every moan reverberate in his own chest, felt his own nerves pulse and thrum with pleasure. And he found himself thinking, as much as he’d been unable to say it before, Lucien had been right.

He’d told him he’d look divine and he did. He’d told him he was beautiful and he was. Maybe he always had been.

“Ready?” Lucien murmured, grazing his earlobe with his teeth, “Give me a colour, sweet boy.”

“Green,” Stephen gasped, voice raw and ready to snap, “So green, my lord, please…”

He felt Lucien’s laugh echo through him, his arms coming around to press them close, “You need to be quieter, darling, or we’ll need to find a new date night place.”

“Well get on with fucking me then,” Stephen grumbled, forgetting himself in his desperation.

“Ah ah ah,” Lucien let his voice grow dangerous again, one hand snaking down to squeeze his aching cock through the lace panties, none too gently, “What kind of tone is that, sweet boy?”

Stephen whined, biting his lip and shuddering, “Sorry, my lord.”

“Better,” Lucien pulled his hand back, using it to unzip himself, “Don’t I always give you what you need?”

He proved his point as he moved the panties aside again, pressing into Stephen, now giving him everything he needed with no hesitation, right up to the hilt. Stephen had to fight to stay quiet, gripping the sink with white knuckles, planting his feet as far apart as he could to try and make room. Lucien paused, kissing the crown of his head, before finding a steady, natural rhythm with his hips, aware they didn’t exactly have a lot of time.

Stephen melted into it, gasps and grunts as soft as he could make them wrenching from his chest, shuddering as Lucien’s hands began roving again. Between the hand working him through the fabric and the cock pounding into him, the tension climbed punishingly fast, until he was scrabbling for balance, heart pounding, breath coming in desperate pants.

“I...fuck, Lucien, I’m there, I...oh god,” he gasped incoherently, arching back against his lover.

“I’ve got you,” Lucien groaned, shifting to work at a deeper angle, “Come for me, sweet boy.”

Stephen did, with a strangled moan, all of the waiting and teasing and tension unravelling in one blissful moment that turned his vision white. A heartbeat later he felt Lucien empty into him, heat pooling low in his stomach which then ignited into the familiar rush of power their lovemaking always gave him. He went rigid, feeling that rush that was so, so close to too much, but he knew it would ebb and leave him boneless and trembling in Lucien’s arms.

“We...may not have thought this through,” Lucien panted, steadying him gently.

“Because I’ve ruined the lovely underwear you got me?” Stephen murmured, closing his eyes a moment, “Because we’ve somehow got to clean ourselves up and walk out of here with some dignity? Because you might have to carry me because I’m not sure I can actually walk?”

Lucien chuckled, “All of that. But also…”

He held out his arms, showing the patches of tan skin where the magpies should be. They were off again, animated by Stephen’s magic, a few already exploring under the lace, pecking curiously.

“I really should have worn long sleeves,” Lucien admitted.

Stephen couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing, both hands flying to his mouth to try and muffle the sound. Lucien dissolved too, burying his face in Stephen’s curls as he shook with wracking laughter.

Stephen knew, with his trousers around his ankles and shirt slipping over one shoulder, standing in a public bathroom freshly fucked and wearing lace lingerie, he should be feeling like a hopeless degenerate. And he did, pleasantly so. But that wasn’t the only thing.

If anyone had asked him he would have denied it. But in that moment, Stephen felt loved.

[parvuls]

fic: in the space between (2/2)

word count: 6.6k

rating: teen

tags: space, science fiction, enemies to friends to lovers, pre-relationship

notes: due to length and tumblr's formatting, reading on ao3 is recommended

(part 1 | part 2 | read on ao3)

-

    “Just a month till we’re home, boys,” Holster announces as he climbs into the bottom bunk across from Eric, addressing the dark room at large. Eric can hear him shift around in his bed, sheets rustling with his movements. “Can I get a hallelujah?”

“You can get pizza,” Ransom replies dreamily from the top bunk above him. “Because Holtzy -- The Real fucking Pep God. You and me, Matty Matheson pepperoni. One month.”

There’s one month left until landing back in Houston and disbanding for three weeks of leave. It’s been creeping up in conversations for weeks now, nestling itself in crew breakfasts and mission briefs and downtime. Shitty waxes poetry about things like dipping his toes into the ocean and breathing that sweet Terra air as often as he talks about smoking three joints at once the moment they set foot on the ground. Holster and Ransom talk about the heaps of food they’ll be shoveling to compensate for a year of outer space cuisine. Jack doesn’t talk about much other than the missions, and Eric thinks about organic chemistry and molecular modeling on good days, thinks about crying on bad ones. He talks about almost anything else to distract himself and hopes to Jesus that no one can tell.

The picture frame on the shelf by his bunk wobbles on its back stand as the ship tips into Krer orbit for the night. Krer itself is dim and murky, obscuring the shining lights of its neighboring planets and cloaking the crew quarters’ portal window in darkness. Jack said that the last mission of this tour should be coming in from Flight Director Hall sometime during the night.

Eric sighs quietly, turns onto his side, and stares blindly at the blank white of the wall as he mentally runs through the primary structure of proteins once more. Holster and Ransom are arguing about the best Toronto pizza in the background, the sound of their voices weaving in with the beeps of the ship’s machinery and the creaking noises of it when in motion.

“You gotta come too, Bittle,” Holster says, drawing Eric’s attention. He rolls his head to the other side, watches Holster’s blurred figure move in the dark to lean over the edge of his bunk. Eric must’ve missed a change of conversation. “Getting together over leave? We spend the last day before launch together, all of us. Y’know, hitting some bar, maybe watching a game, then catching the plane to Texas in the morning. Last time we went to Shitty’s -- man, that was fucking wild sauce.”

“And you gotta meet Lardo,” Ransom adds. “Crew bylaws. Sorry, rookie, everyone’s in.”

There are ten densely-printed pages about prokaryotes crumpled in the back of Eric’s personal locker, that he’s riffled through maybe twice. Eric chews his lip raw, tries to think of a carefully-masqueraded way of brushing the invitation off, but Holster grumbles lowly before he can. “Well, not everyone.”

“Right,” Ransom says, his enthusiastic tone turning slightly hesitant. “But. Us and Shitty and Lardo and probably her trainee Ford. It’s almost everyone.”

It’s almost everyone, plus ground team. “But not Jack,” Eric concludes, unintentionally dismayed. He should know better by now than to be disappointed, probably. He should, but doesn’t.

Holster sighs and throws himself back onto the mattress, bed springs groaning loudly. “Jack doesn’t really do social things. He’s too cool for them. Which -- whatever, man, who cares, it’s probably more fun for us that way. So you in?”

What Eric’s in for is a world of trouble. Eric’s in for the sweltering heat of the Texan desert, he’s in for submerging in textbooks all the way up to his ears, he’s in for never being quite enough for this world. He turns his head back to the other side, facing the wall, and stifles a sigh.

“I’ll think about it,” he promises, and knows that he will, also knows he’d never be able to say yes. He doesn’t leave them enough time to round up on him before he adds, “Now shut your pieholes, gentlemen, some people need their beauty sleep. And by some people I do mean y’all.”

“Really, he means you,” Ransom tells Holster, and there’s the distinct sound of Holster reaching up and whacking the top bunk with a pillow. Eric buries his face in his sheets and tries to think distracting thoughts loudly enough to drown out the constant screeching noise of his worries. That, at least, is something he’s an expert at.

.

Eric wishes he could say that he spent his entire life looking up to the stars. That would be a lie.

He spent most of his childhood looking at the ground, instead. At the toe picks beneath his feet; at the dough rising in the oven; at the floor of his school’s hallways, trying to avoid eye contact. The sky in Georgia was ordinarily clear, stars blinking in and out of view, but they’d never held much of Eric’s interest. He wouldn’t have known what to search for even if he’d tried.

Eric, aged eighteen, went to college mostly for the going and less for college. New England was as much an escape as it was a destination. He liked some of his classes, didn’t like others -- remained undeclared for most of junior year, bouncing around between classes about food and culture. He put off doing his work for too long and preferred baking to writing essays too often, but it was fine, most of the time. His days were filled with more people than papers and he found that it was exactly the way he liked it.

College was the point Eric realized that, once he’d stopped being too afraid to try, he was really good with people.

“You could charm mountains into moving for you,” his sophomore year roommate told him, not without a hint of exasperation, when Eric fretted about meeting his first boyfriend’s parents. “Literally everybody likes you.” 

And Eric laughed nervously, said, “Come on now, that is certainly not true,” because he couldn’t charm thirteen year old bullies out of forcing him across the state, couldn’t make small-town Georgia like him for who he really was. Those seemed a lot like immovable mountains to him.

But people flocked to his vlog, kept telling him he was so charismatic, and his hockey team kept turning to him for advice with their problems, and in November of junior year he reviewed his credits, expecting to see every food class his college had to offer, but found Populism and Norms and Deviance and Inequality and Social Change, instead.

He got his B.A. Got his master’s, too, not particularly fond of academia but not too keen on leaving the shelter it provided, either. He accepted an offer to work as a consultant for a big company right after grad school, spent a year expertly tailoring trade relations and marketing techniques to partners and customers from foreign cultures. He understood people, liked people, and people, apparently, liked him. It wasn’t the job of his dreams but it was a decent start, and once the one year mark came and went he began considering PR work, maybe putting his people skills to a smaller-scale use. He was twenty-five and definitely not unhappy and his eyes were, always, firmly on the ground.

And then -- well. Then, one day, NASA called.

.

Jack gathers the four of them outside the flight deck to inform them that their crew has been tasked with the last Human-Islik Intergalactic Treaty info exchange of the quarter, in time for the summit meeting at the end of August. He tells them Flight Director Hall is counting on them, tells them to wear clean suits, and when Holster and Ransom begin chanting last mission, last mission, last mission, he sternly reminds them that being assigned to the Treaty IE is an honor. Still, when they all scatter and the two of them practically skip down the bridge, Eric thinks he sees the corners of Jack’s mouth twitch.

The mission takes four days, requires a series of security checks before entering each room and short transmissions to Houston for green lights at every step. Islikaru has the largest concentration of humans outside of Earth, but protocol must be followed nevertheless. Eric shakes hands, shakes paws, shakes tentacles, makes pleasant small talk and smiles brightly and lets Ransom ramble about science and Jack deal with bureaucracy. It feels at last like a familiar dance, and Eric tries not to think about how much he doesn’t ever want to stop dancing.

By dusk of the fourth day Shitty convinces Jack to wrap it up at a local eatery, the crew crowded around a small table in a pressurized O2 pod with their helmets thrown on the seats by their thighs. Eric finds himself squeezed between Jack on one side and Shitty on the other, a cool syrupy drink emitting translucent wisps of steam in his hand. Holster orders for all of them in rusty Isli that may or may not actually result in food, but they’re all just too jubilant to care.

“Alright boys,” Shitty hollers, banging his coaster on the table several times for effect. The glass containers holding all of their drinks jiggle with its force, creating a cheerful ringing sound. “A toast to this fucking beaut of a year. Being stuck in a cramped metal case floating in nothing for three hundred sixty-five days has been a great pleasure with your rockin’ bods for company. Fucking cheers!”

Ransom whoops, Shitty pretends to wipe a tear, Holster belts out the chorus of Cheers’ theme song passionately. Eric watches them, helplessly indulgent, and thinks: he’s actually making a home here. 

On his other side, Jack shoves one of the food baskets towards Eric with his knuckles and says, “You should try the octo-bacon, if you haven’t.” His eyes meet Eric’s for a brief moment, make Eric’s lungs expand in his chest. He can’t remember the last time Jack spoke to him for no good reason. 

Jack’s face is uniquely relaxed, his jaw convulsing as he fruitlessly tries not to laugh at something Shitty says, and Eric’s former thought continues, completely unbidden: gracious, I’m going to miss these boys so much. Their bickering and their worst habits and their dumbest moments. Holster’s booming voice, Ransom’s midnight thesis writing, Shitty’s insistence on nudity, Jack’s continual ability to confuse him. 

“Holy shit, man,” Ransom says, slamming his emptied drink onto the table and staring at its last drops in awe. “What the fuck is this shit. I need another one ASAP.”

“Not it!” Holster calls, and then stretches his arm across the table, fingertip of his index finger pointed mere inches from Jack’s face. “But I just know our commander would love to buy his best crew another round. Right, Zimmermann?”

“You’re my only crew, Birkholtz,” Jack rolls his eyes, mostly good-natured. Holster’s wiggling finger and Shitty’s foot kicking at his shin beneath the table must goad him into action anyway, because he puts his helmet back on, disappears out of the pod and towards the service counter without further protest. 

While Eric watches him go, Shitty slides closer in the booth and flings his arm around Eric, tugs him right into the crook of Shitty’s body. 

“This is it, Bittle,” he sighs, eyes closing dramatically. “Once this tour ends, you will no longer hold the title of rookie. Finally, you will graduate to the same titles everybody else gets -- mainly bro, or fucker, or, if I’m spectacularly schwasted, yo, what’syourname. This is a monumental day for all. You might even get a nickname. Are you appropriately emotional?”

Eric is emotional about many things. He can't stop thinking about this crew and what they've come to mean to him, can't stop hating keeping secrets, can't stop dreading the moment they cross back into Earth. Eric is emotional about the possibility of seeing his mama again, and what it'll mean if he does; Eric is emotional about life in general, right now, so he says, “Sure thing, Shitty,” and shoves a ring of octo-bacon into his mouth. It seems, for lack of a better option, like the smartest response.

From above Ransom’s head, Eric spots Jack reappearing just beyond the glassy walls of the pod, carrying a tray with four containers between both hands. He then keeps watching, helpless and open-mouthed, as another astronaut rises from a nearby booth and slams into Jack shoulder-first, tipping the entire tray sideways and nearly knocking its contents over and to the floor.

“Oh shit, sorry mate!” the man exclaims, immediately reaching out to catch Jack’s hands and help stable the tray. His Australian accent is thick, the ASA pin decorating the shoulder that knocked into Jack glinting under artificial lights. The two of them grab the tray with three hands, containers sliding back into place still intact, before the man’s eyes flick up and catch on Jack’s face. He then jerks back, his eyes widening and his hands yanked away from Jack like he’s afraid to catch on fire. “Fuck, Zimmermann! I didn’t see it was you! Fuck my life, uh -- here, I’ll pay for the drinks --”

Eric watches, crestfallen, as Jack’s previously relaxed expression gradually darkens back into his usual scowl, lips disappearing between his teeth. “It’s fine, don’t --”

The other astronaut shakes his head vehemently, shoving his gloved hand into his utility pocket and fishing out some local coins that he then throws onto the tray haphazardly.

“Fuck no, mate, I’m not taking risks with you,” he hurries backwards, flat palms raised up, like he’s under some kind of threat Eric can’t read in Jack’s distressed body language. “For real, it was an accident, don’t get your dad to kick me off the program, yeah?”

The man backs off, scurrying back to his pod and to his whispering crewmates. Jack remains standing, shoulders rigid and tray held in clenched white knuckles, vacant stare fixed on the floor. Eric glances away from Jack for the first time since he saw him approach and notices that his whole table is silent and tense. He catches Shitty’s furrowed eyebrows and Ransom’s worried look, and becomes slowly conscious of the fact that unlike him, everybody else already know what just went on in front of them. 

Jack’s mood seems to fracture, then. He steps through the pod’s sliding sealing and sets the tray down on the table too forcibly, glass containers knocking together. He doesn’t sit back down. Shitty parts his mouth to say something, but Jack latches his helmet closed before he can, muttering, “I’m done for tonight. I’ll see you guys back on the ship.” 

His face is almost blank, valiantly trying for imperviousness, but Eric has never seen him look so decidedly miserable before. Instinctively, he reaches out to grab Jack’s wrist; he doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what just happened, but he does know that Jack shouldn’t leave like that. He manages to stammer out, “...Jack --” before Jack tears his hand away from Eric’s grip with the same excessive aggression that rattled the drinks, and says curtly, “Excuse me.”

Eric stares at his back stalking off until he's entirely out of view, feels unjustly hurt and primarily very confused.

.

Jack Zimmermann is --

Jack Zimmermann is one of NASA’s Arctic Project’s best pilots and ship commanders, Eric learned his first year in the program. He’s exceptionally committed to his job, loyal to his crew, unwaveringly focused on the mission. He’s direct, sometimes brutally so. He’s good at following orders, makes tough decisions under pressure, and never takes the opportunity to rub elbows with the higher ups. He just loves what he does, and does it notably well.

The name and the legend is a lot to live up to, but when Eric met Jack he realized that the man is exactly as he’s advertised. Jack, in the role of Jack Zimmermann, is straightforwardly that: an amazing astronaut, an amazing ship commander, an amazing pilot.

It’s unfortunate, then, that Jack in the role of a human being is sometimes an enormous asshole.

.

The ship’s lights are all off when the boys straggle themselves back on board later in the evening, their boots dragging sluggishly against gravity. When Jack left, the celebratory mood followed his footsteps out the door; no one seemed the least bit inclined to talk about it, so Eric didn’t ask. Though the four of them did their best to recover, cracking halfhearted jokes and staying for another couple of rounds, even Shitty’s mustache seems to droop lower than normal by the time they finally find their way back to the ship. 

Shitty passes airlock and walks straight towards the pilots’ quarters without saying a thing, so Eric wordlessly follows Holster and Ransom into their own quarters, brow still creased with puzzlement. He watches as Holster starts stripping by the door and Ransom sits down on the bottom bunk to take off his gear, and waits, and waits, until the silence is just too strange to handle.

“Alright, can anyone tell me what in the deep-fried hell was that?”

Holster glowers, rips off his support strap with gusto. He doesn’t answer, so Eric turns his frown at Ransom, who sighs as he removes the tough overshoe off his boots. “Ignore him, Bittle. Jack just gets real bitchy when people mention his dad. Which happens pretty often because, you now, his dad.”

“His dad…?” Eric prompts, desperate, because it seems like he should know something that he doesn’t. It’s not in the least a foreign feeling these days, when concerning space and science and always, always Jack.

Ransom looks up at him, one boot dangling from his left hand. “Yeah, you know, his dad. It’s a lot of pressure, living up to that. It’s probably most of why Jack is how Jack is.”

Eric doesn’t believe daddy issues are any excuse to be so surly, and he thinks, rather bitterly, that he would know something about the matter. But he pushes, still, because it’s always one step forward and three steps back with Jack, and any scrap of information making his commander seem a little more human could go a long way right now. Or even not human; Lord knows Eric can figure out nonhums just fine. “What does he have to live up to?”

Holster pauses peeling off the suit’s hard upper torso to squint incredulously at Eric. The lower torso assembly of the suit pools around his thighs. “You don’t know who Mad Bob is?”

“Uh,” Eric deflates, taking a tentative step back, the crown of his head hitting the frame of the top bunk. The tone of conversation begins to sound a lot like the time he disclosed that he doesn’t really know the periodic table or has, at any point of time, known it at all. “No. I don’t.”

Ransom throws his other boot to the side and leans forward, elbows resting on his knees and face contorting into an expression that closely mirrors Holster’s; surprised, scandalized, disbelieving. “He’s like -- Mad Bob. He was the first commander in the original Avalanche Project. He was the first pilot to leave the Solar System and come back alive?” 

“They say he was the first to meet extraterrestrial life!” Holster gestures grandly with his hand, yanking off the EV glove to have free use of the other hand as well. 

“That’s actually not true,” Ransom clarifies, “No nonhum races were recorded until almost a decade later --”

“Not the point, dude,” Holster waves him off. “The point is, Mad Bob is a legend. His ship nearly burned on the way back to Earth and he totally saved everyone on board. Made the first round trip, you know? He’s a big fucking deal. Can’t believe you’ve never heard of him.”

Eric blanches, digs his nails into his skin to hold his instinctual reaction at bay. Eric spent the first twenty-five years of his life with his feet planted firmly on the ground, his eyes never straying upwards. Later, Eric spent every moment of his time at Houston scrambling to prove his worth in an environment so wholly alien to him that the irony in the metaphor was no longer funny. Eric wouldn’t be able to tell Neil Armstrong from Adam, just like Eric can never really remember the difference between Newton’s and Einstein's theories, doesn't know the primary structure of proteins even now. Eric doesn’t belong here, and he’s quickly running out of time to pretend like he does.

“Oh,” he says finally, weakly. Holster and Ransom haven’t looked away from him yet, so he averts his eyes, turns to face his bunk. “Must’ve just missed it somehow.”

He can almost hear Holster and Ransom hem and haw for a few long, silent moments, before the sound of nylon rustling resumes. Eric takes a deep breath, and does his very best not to regret ever asking. It’s made worse by the fact that this hasn't really helped him understand Jack any better than before.

.

So Jack had spent most of Eric’s first few months on the ship treating Eric like an inconvenience. That was okay -- it hadn’t been the first time he’d been perceived like that, and it wouldn’t be the last. He hadn’t been a fresh-faced teenager from the South in a long while; he’d been older, tougher. He’d been places and had met people, nicer people and smarter people and even meaner people than Jack Zimmermann. He hadn’t really needed a pat on the shoulder or an encouraging smile, just the opportunity to do his job, and do it well.

The real problem was that Eric had always been good at his job because he understood people. And Eric, despite his best begrudging efforts, cannot make sense of Jack.

Jack, who clearly had not understood Eric’s job at all until, suddenly and out of nowhere, there was Evor. Jack who, after Evor, told Eric good work and sounded like maybe he even meant it. Jack who, after Evor, was sat by Eric when Lardo radioed to tell them that Jack’s report had made the deputy administrator call to congratulate Eric specifically. 

Jack who, also after Evor, stopped meeting Eric’s eyes unless absolutely necessary. Jack, who Eric sometimes caught staring from the corner of his eye, looking lost in thoughts. Jack, who roughhoused with Shitty in the flight deck, and arranged Holster a private DSN connection for his mom’s birthday, and listened to Charlie Rich on late night piloting shifts -- but whose glimpses of personality disappeared the moment Eric tried to study them for too long.

Missions transformed into something different in the aftermath of Evor. A month after the crew’s return to action they were sent to do testing on the magnetic field of Pladora, and Jack put Eric in charge of communication with the local scientists without preambles. Eric choked, floundered, but grabbed the opportunity with both hands; he still couldn’t shake the weight of Jack’s gaze on his shoulders whenever he spoke with the Pladoran team.

Later, Jack pulled him aside and asked, “Are you capable of confidently explaining to me the exact kind of testing we’re doing here?”, stared at Eric until he was fidgeting uncomfortably in place. “It’s important that you can do that,” he added, like Eric didn’t already know, like Eric didn’t think about it every night before he fell asleep, like he needed Jack’s eyes on him for that, making the nape of his neck burn and his palms tingle with sweat. But Jack frowned at him, then, took a step back, like he didn’t understand why Eric was flushed with embarrassment. It almost seemed for a moment like he wasn’t actively gunning for humiliation.

And then it happened again. Two weeks after that they were helping ESA fix a satellite on a German space station, and Jack left Eric to discuss mission parameters unattended, but also ordered him to watch Shitty install a new GPS chip for three hours. During the strategy session for a recon mission in the Austra System, Jack insisted on hearing Eric’s opinion, but also accosted him after it to demand that Eric read about the complication with the wavelength disturbance. In a charged encounter with destitute merchants from a dead galaxy, Jack remained two steps behind Eric’s right shoulder and let him conciliate them, but when Eric later babbled about the civil turmoil caused by the demise of the galaxy, Jack asserted that he should understand the astrophysical process leading to such death.

So Eric generously thought: maybe Jack was trying, poorly. But three months after Evor the two of them returned to the ship frazzled and peeved, had spent most of the day wrangling with diplomats on Uzeru, and Eric scrubbed a hand over his face, resolved to try one more time. He offered Jack a friendly, tired smile, and said, “Wanna share bad coffee in the kitchen to drown our sorrows?”, but Jack only shook his head once, sharply, before immediately walking away.

The inability to make any sense of it consumes Eric's thoughts for much longer than he's comfortable with. Jack pushes and then pulls, hovers over Eric professionally but disappears the moment it’s interpersonal. A week before they're off for leave Eric looks up from his plate to see Jack taking his dinner into the flight deck, ignoring Shitty’s offer to join him, and thinks that maybe he can never peek past Jack's mask because Jack makes sure to turn away whenever it comes off. He thinks that maybe this is what loneliness looks like, thinks that he should still know better than to care, thinks for the first time that maybe Jack’s silent treatment is nothing more than not knowing what to say to Eric after Evor. Thinks that maybe Jack’s inept solution to not knowing what to say is to just say nothing at all.

.

The impact crater chipping Vylos’ surface is visible from two-hundred thousand miles out. It’s the nearest planet to the jumping point back to Earth, and its crater serves as a parking lot for all ships on their way to or from there. Its chaotic layout strongly reminds Eric of the QuikTrip station just north of Atlanta, but he bites his tongue and keeps that to himself. Jack and Shitty have probably never seen a QuikTrip, anyway.

Jack grumbles about finding a parking space on the night before leave, body curved over the control wheel and eyes squinted at the windowpane. Shitty leaves him to it, drapes his legs sideways on his armrest to tell Eric about the long claws of capitalism stretching into the cosmos, and how this has resulted in Vylosian beer being the best there is this side of the Milky Way, “Even though it’s like, totally not a real beer, dude, but -- marketing ploy!”, and how its atmosphere was chemically engineered, “To be breathable for all us Earthly suckers passing by ‘cause of the jump point. Filthy fucking marketing plot, I tell ya -- and the beer costs like my goddamn kidney.”

“Your goddamn kidney’s not worth much with the amount of Vylosian beer you regularly consume,” Jack interjects, lowering the ship into a vacant spot skillfully. Vylos’ terrain, reflected at Eric from the three surrounding windows in the flight deck, is grainy and blue.

The Vylosian bar Shitty buoyantly pushes them into is decorated in mismatched memorabilia, posters of Uma Thurman and Justin Bieber and a life-size stormtrooper suit personally signed by George Lucas looming by the wall. The AI pouring the drinks is a hologram in the shape of a Western saloon bartender, the beer is thick and neon green. Eric’s been outside the Kármán line for nearly a year and feels caught by surprise, still, almost daily; but tonight he gets to wear denim shorts instead of nylon spacesuits, gets to clink his glass against Ransom’s, gets to pretend that tomorrow isn’t possibly the end of it all. It has to be enough, he thinks, and takes a determined drink.

Their group starts out leaning against the wooden countertop, skin sticking to its surface. Later, Holster and Ransom chat their way into the table of two local girls, and Jack disappears from view. Eventually, their group winds up scattered across different corners of the bar, red-faced and loose. Eric catches himself repeatedly looking up from the bottom of his glass to the open door, at the pale glint of the sky just outside it, and after a thorough sweep around he takes his drink, gets up, and starts walking.

.

The bar overlooks the vast expanses of the crater sprawling beneath it, and Eric finds himself sitting outside at the edge of the cliff, thighs bare over the rough azure dirt and beer glass tilting in his hand. Vylos’ three moons are out of sync, rising and peaking and setting in a simultaneous cycle, and Eric is busy watching them when he hears heavy footsteps coming up behind him.

He’s surprised to find Jack standing there, suspended in motion with his hands deep in his pockets and his hair windswept, figure backlit by the lights of the bar twinkling behind him. He seems just as startled to see Eric; his expression wavers out of its usual stoic façade to betray some semblance of emoting.

“Oh, Bittle, I -- I thought you’re inside with the boys,” Jack blinks, a hint of a frown wrinkling his forehead. 

“No,” Eric blinks in turn, unsettled by this strange creature wearing the face of his commander. He looks so different in jeans and an AsCans training program t-shirt, out of the bulky spacesuits they spend most days in. “Uh -- no. I’m not.”

“Right.” Jack nods stiffly, glances at the ground and then at a spot somewhere over Eric’s shoulder. His body language is guarded, and he looks misplaced, painfully awkward. They still haven’t exchanged more than two or three sentences in private since Evor and Eric, typically the chatterbox, wouldn’t even know where to begin. “Well, uh, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll go.”

“You’re not interrupting,” Eric says, before he can think too carefully about why the heck he’d say such a thing. Before he can recall the snapshot memory of Jack turning to eat dinner in the flight deck, alone. “I mean. I’m just sitting here. Drinking alien beer,” he raises his glass, the bright green liquid sloshing around, leaving traces of neon on its rim. The ridiculousness of the situation may be slightly lost on Jack, but not on him. Space still is, and probably always will be, kind of weird.

“Right,” Jack repeats, the line of his back tightening and his eyes narrowing at Eric. “Be careful with that. Don’t want you to throw up during descent tomorrow.”

Dear Lord. One step forward and three steps back. “Yes, Commander,” Eric sighs, swallowing the chagrin out of his voice. His shoulders sag as his body curls towards the view, away from Jack. God forbid Jack Zimmermann think about anything other than the mission for a single flippin' moment. Eric should know better than to be disappointed, but the sour churn of his stomach is unmistakable. Eric should, but doesn’t.

The footsteps behind him pick up again, and he expects to hear Jack walking farther and farther away. Instead, he’s shocked into silence by Jack sliding into his peripheral view, sitting down beside him on the cliff. His shoulders are rigid, his mouth pressed thin. His expression looks like he’s as bewildered as Eric by his own actions.

“Are you excited to go back?” Jack asks after a long, uncomfortable minute, during which they both sit mutely and watch the pits of Vylos before them. Its second moon has finished a full rotation and is now shining down in soft lilac beams. Jack’s voice is tense, flat; this boy, Eric thinks almost pityingly, really is terrible at small talk.

He’s been asked this question a dozen times that month, but mustering his practiced fake enthusiasm now seems hard. Maybe it’s the alien alcohol; maybe it’s that Jack could regress into not speaking to him again at any moment. “I guess so. Home sweet home, ‘m I right?”

Jack shrugs one shoulder, a short and angular movement. “It doesn't feel like going home to me,” he says, honest and plain. “I spend most of my time out here. It’s more like -- a summer vacation. Some people go to the Caribbean and we go visit Earth.”

Eric nods, absently, unsure of how to respond. He brings his glass to his lips and takes a long swig of it, tastes green all the way to the back of his throat. It’s almost impossible to imagine that in twenty-four hours he could be drinking locally-produced white wine in the Washington Corridor. Earth feels so darn far away.

“What’ll you do on your vacation, then?” Eric asks after another long stretch of silence, mostly out of politeness that his mother persistently lectured into him over years. 

Jack’s attention is fixed on the moons, his profile sculpted by the sharp lines of his nose and cheekbones and chin. His eyes are so pale under the lilac moon -- big, slanted, annoyingly beautiful. He remains quiet for a moment, leans his weight on his palms and considers Eric’s question. His gaze is still flickering over the view when he says, finally, “I usually go see my parents. Read. Buy groceries.”

Eric snorts inelegantly. If he didn’t know any better, didn’t know Jack any better, that could almost be mistaken for a joke. “Buy groceries?”

“Yes,” Jack says, perfectly serious. His eyes flit over to meet Eric’s, and Eric holds them for only a moment before quickly looking away. His cheeks grow inexplicably warm. “I don’t really miss anything when I’m up here -- I mean, not really -- but I guess sometimes it’s nice to remember people. Stupid human stuff, eh? Supermarkets. Banks. I always think I'd catch a movie in the theatre but somehow I never do.”

He appears to be uncomfortable with his admission, face closing off once the words are out of his mouth. The sharp lines of his features twist back into a familiar scowl, but Eric watches them, him, thoroughly transfixed. The authentic snippet of personality cannot disappear under the reapplied mask this time; Jack has put something truthful on the table, a hint of something charmingly sentimental. A mundane humanity space can't recreate, newspapers and laundromats and coffee stands and taxes. Grocery shopping. Eric doesn’t know if the fast, erratic beating in his chest is at the sweet tinge of it, or the mere thought of Jack paying attention to such things.

“You should,” Eric finally finds his words somewhere in his strangled windpipe, slowly facing forward. Jack, and his continual ability to confuse. He can see Jack from the corner of his eye, turning his head to subtly raise both eyebrows at Eric. “Go to the movies. You should do it this time.”

“Yeah. Maybe I will,” Jack says after a long pause. “I'll tell you how it went when we’re back here.”

“If I come back,” Eric sighs before he can catch himself, and then freezes, fingers clenching around his glass. Dang it. Dang it all to hell.

“What?” Jack asks, confused, and when Eric refuses to meet his eyes, shoulders squaring and chin dropping to his chest, Jack’s voice sharpens and he repeats, “What? What do you mean? Bittle. What do you mean.”

Eric exhales unsteadily, rubbing his forehead with the back of his free hand. He thought he'd have more time. He thought -- like he always does, and is always wrong -- that he’d successfully outrun his problems by denying their existence. He could try shoving those four incriminating words back into his mouth, but Eric can feel Jack’s intense attention focused on the side of his face. Once Jack stepped back into the professional boots of Commander Zimmermann, no denial will make him let this go. 

“I’m spending all of my leave in Texas. I gotta pass evaluation for the clearance to come back here with y’all. These past six months were my test run -- I’ve never passed the written exam.” Eric drags his shoe through the sandy ground, watches as the grooves he makes are swept away. “Y’all know I’m no good at the sciency stuff, Jack, alright. I don't need to hear it from you as well. If I don't get an adequate score I'm off the program for good.”

Eric chews the inside of his cheek and chances a side glance. Jack looks outraged, his thick brows drawn down and his entire face devoid of color. Eric’s immediate reflex is to flinch away, but Jack speaks before he can make a move. “What subjects?”

“What?” Eric asks, thrown completely off-balance. He was expecting a thundering reprimand at worst, an indifferent dismissal at best. He doesn’t know what the quiet, heated response he's gotten even is. 

"What subjects are they testing you on?”

Eric hesitates, body still braced for the blow that isn't coming. “Uh. All of the introductory subjects. Basic physics, geobiology... mostly modern astronomy. But I swear --”

“Alright,” Jack cuts him off with a single sharp nod, his chin sticking out slightly, like Eric has somehow pushed him to make up his mind. His expression, typically impassive, is now staggeringly transparent. “I’ll help you study for the written exam.”

“What?" Eric blinks several times, glances down to see if he's had more to drink than he thought, but the glass is still half-full and Jack's figure is still corporeal by his side, intense expression still in place. He doesn't fade away like the hallucination Eric is so sure he must be. "Jack -- what --?”

Jack doesn't seem to pick up on the astonishment that has Eric stumbling over his words. “We’ve got two and a half weeks, right? You need entry level stuff to pass that exam. If we study hard, you can do it.”

Eric thinks he might be gaping, his mouth hanging open and growing dry in the arid air, but he apparently isn't capable of collecting his jaw off of Vylos’ ground. “But… what… but you’ll be in Canada…?”

“I’ll stay in Huston,” Jack looks determined. “Bittle, we're a team. You should’ve told us before and we would’ve helped you. You’re a strong crew member, you’re smart, you’ve got an edge that none of us has got. If that’s the only thing holding you back we’re going to get you over it. Study clinic, day and night.” He pauses, the self-assurances faltering for only a moment, and the lines of his mouth soften somewhat. “Just trust me, okay?”

Eric is absolutely floored. The only foolish thing that manages to leave his mouth is, “What about going to the movies?”

Jack almost smiles. Eric has spied that expression on rare occasions before, but never directed at him, and never from up close. It does something to Jack's face that Eric can't put in words. “I’ll catch one on the next leave. Which you’ll be taking as well, ‘cause you’re not leaving the program. We've got each other's backs, Bittle.”

Under the moonlight, purple shadows carving his face from marble and a mellow half-smile twisting the corners of his mouth upwards, Eric could almost let himself admit how handsome Jack is. Jack rubs the dirt off of one palm and slowly curls his fingers, holds them up in a silent offer. Eric can see the thin veins beneath the surface of his skin. He looks at the hand, looks up at Jack, and lets a tentative smile blossom on his face. He brings his clenched hand up to meet Jack’s, and bumps his fist.

[rottmntquotes]

The Best He Can

Okay, so maybe saying what Donnie said was a bit stupid and insensitive, even for his standards, and maybe using the tone that he did conveyed a message that he didn’t mean, and maybe, just maybe he should have paid attention to Leo’s body language as the words that flowed into the air continued to rise in volume and lower in mercy. He understood that now, and he was desperate to apologize to his twin, despite how terrible he was at it. When all had been said and done, when hearts had been broken, tears had fallen, and nothing was able to break the tension as Leo ran away, everyone else knew that it was time to do something.

‘Besides,’ Donnie thought to himself, ‘even though apologizing isn’t my strong suit, this can’t end up being that difficult, right? It’s Leo for crying out loud! He’ll be ready to forgive and forget in no time!’

And now, because of that train of thought, Donnie found himself standing underneath a large tree in the forest, his brothers and father(s) near for moral support. It was on the eighth branch that had a decent length- and a curiously steady hold despite how thin it was -where Leo hung upside down, and ‘Oh my god, when did our tails become prehensile?!’,  Donnie thought to himself. When he sensed his family near, Leo’s head pulled into his shell, along with his arms and legs, leaving only his shell and his- just barely visible tail -out in the open.

“I don’t want to talk to you! Leave me alone!” came Leo’s muffled shout, pain evident in his voice. “Go back home!”

Of course, Raph took this as a challenge, and he- being the sweetheart he is who is willing to do anything to keep his family happy -started to climb the tree, ignoring the words of protest he earned from the others. Every now and then, the words “You’re too heavy! The branch won’t hold!” would be spoken, but Raph responded with a very convinced claim of “I’m a ninja! If I can be Light As A Feather, I can balance myself on a branch!”

Splinter muttered an exasperated curse in Japanese under his breath, having become fed up with the stubbornness that was very clearly an inherited trait of the Hamato family. “Raphael! The branch is going to break! You may have advanced in your Ninjutsu, but you are still the size of a car!”

“Guys! Stop worrying!” Raph scoffed, finally making it to the branch that his upset brother dwelled. With slow and steady steps, Raph inched over to Leo, smirking smugly as he continued on without making the branch even creak. “Hey buddy... I know that you’re not feeling too happy right now, but I promise that Donnie is really super sorry about what he said.”

Leo hissed loudly, momentarily poking his head out to snarl at Raph before retreating into the dark sanctuary that was his shell. Raph huffed, moving closer and closer to Leo. Low warning growls were directed at Raph, but he pointedly ignored them, reaching out a hand to try and grip the edge of Leo’s Carapace. In one swift movement, Leo popped out of his shell, unwrapping his tail from the branch and hopping onto one higher up. The sudden movement caused the branch to break, sending Raph falling flat onto his face.

“I’m okay.” Raph mumbled, lifting his face and shaking the grass off his face. “So... maybe me going up there wasn’t the best idea.”

“Oh really? Who would have guessed?” Draxum scoffed, looking directly at Donnie. “You! Purple! You were the one who started this! Go up there and soothe your brother!”

“But I-”

“DO IT NOW!” Draxum’s order echoed through the forest, and Donnie yelped, activating the wings on his battle shell and flying up to gently land on the branch his brother was perched upon. With one final glance to Draxum, Donnie sneered before turning his full attention to Leo.

“Um... hey...?” Donnie muttered, clearly unsure of what he was supposed to do and say. Leo scoffed at the awkward attempt of an icebreaker, his tail wrapping around the branch as a warning that any wrong movement or word would send him straight back to his hiding position. “Well what do you want me to do?! You know how bad I am at this!”

“Yeah, I do, and you wouldn’t have to do it if you hadn't said what you did.” Leo turned his back to Donnie, pretending to stare out at a cloud that was coincidentally shaped like a rubber ducky. “All I did was pull a prank, bro. I didn't mean to hurt anyone, let alone you.”

Donnie frowned at the reminder, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “I know you didn’t, ‘Nardo, but...” Donnie took in a deep breath; if he was going to set things straight, he might was well do it with a clear head. ‘Tell the truth’ is what his mind constantly told him, and he intended to. “I wasn’t yelling at you, per se, nor was I trying to hurt you in any way.”

It was clear from the look on Leo’s face that his interest was piqued, and he finally turned to look at his twin. “What’s that s’posed to mean?”

“Do you remember that time we got our tongues stuck in those mouse traps?” Donnie asked. Leo nodded, a bit annoyed that his question was answered with a question, but trusting that he would get an actual answer soon enough. “It was a stupid dare that got us yelled at for nearly half an hour. I honestly remember it like it was yesterday; to tell you the truth, I swear that I’ve never seen dad’s veins that visible since.”

Leo snickered, smiling for a brief second before replacing it with a frown when Donnie looked his way. “Is there a point to this, or are you just trying to avoid the subject?”

“There is a point,” Donnie assured, “but I would get to it faster if you shut your snout.”

“I make no promises.” Leo quipped, slowly but surely unwrapping his tail from the branch. It wasn’t exactly an ‘I Forgive You’ gesture, but it was close enough to spur Donnie on.

“Well, to delay your inevitable chatter, I will ask one final question.” Donnie waited for the frustrated groan from Leo he was sure to receive. When it came, Donnie continued. “Do you remember why dad yelled at us like that?”

“I don’t remember the exact wording, but I’m pretty sure it was something along the lines of “I was more scared than angry. When I saw you two in pain, I couldn’t help but feel the need to protect you.” which is when he proceeded to ground us.” Leo recounted the event almost easily, a fond smirk appearing on his face. “But what does that have to do with... what you said?”

“When I yelled at you, I wasn’t upset. I was honestly kind of terrified...” Donnie paused, scratching at a bit of loose skin from the branch the two were settled upon. “You don't know how scary it was to see my own twin brother lying on his Carapace, covered in blood.”

“But it was fa-”

“I know that! But I didn't care! One of my biggest fears is losing you, all of you! I thought that I had left something out that had hurt you, that I was the reason why you were just... lying there... you looked so lifeless.” Donnie wiped away the streams of tears falling from his eyes. “Ugh, look at me... the guy who doesn’t understand feelings is sitting here crying because of some stupid prank pulled by his equally stupid-” Donnie cut himself off, remembering the words he’d uttered that started this mess.

“Go on, say it.” Leo huffed, his frown returning. “Say that I’m just as stupid as the prank.”

“No.” Leo looked up at the refusal, asking many silent questions with his wide eyes. “I’m not going to say it, because it isn’t true. You aren’t stupid. I was just upset, and when I get upset I get snappy.”

“Snappy? That’s what you’re calling it?” Leo asked in disbelief, giving a genuine snicker, which soon turned into a full-hearted laugh. For a while, Donnie watched Leo in confusion, wondering what was so funny. “Dude, you cannot tell me that you truly believe Snappy does what you said justice! Your face was as red as Raph’s mask! You looked like a freakin’ cherry!”

“Okay, I get it, ‘Nardo. You don’t need to ruin the mood.”

“Uh, what mood? This whole conversation has been as awkward as Dad’s relationship with Draxum!” An indignant scoff came from Donnie, and Leo barked out a laugh that left him coughing violently. “Don! Can’t breathe!”

Donnie groaned, drawing Leo close and massaging the back of Leo’s neck. A good minute or so passed, and Donnie had started to contemplate karate chopping Leo in the stomach, but Leo eventually stopped coughing. A loud sputter was shared between the twins, and they chuckled at the coincidence.

“So uh... am I forgiven?” Donnie asked, wanting desperately to be able to get home and disappear into his lab to try and forget this mess. Unfortunately for him, however, Leo was aware of this plan, and the mutant Slider gave a false hum. “Leo...”

“I’ll forgive you on one condition.” Leo chimed, looking directly into Donnie’s eyes. “You have to spend the rest of the night in the Apology Nest with me, where we will drink hot chocolate and watch cheesy B-Movies until we pass out.”

“I am not going to do that.”

“Then I’m not going to forgive you. What you said really hurt, Dee. I hope you at least realize that it’s a feat in itself to get me to forgive you for... y’know.” Leo lowered his gaze to the ground, where the rest of the family had sat down to talk about whatever. “It made me cry, Dee. Something that’s really hard to do, mind you.”

Donnie sighed heavily, weighing his options before deciding that, yes, he did owe Leo the Apology Nest treatment. Nothing could excuse what had happened in the lab earlier that day, and Donnie knew this. What he said was despicable, thoughtless, and heartless. Even if he meant none of it, he had no right to say it.

“Alright,” Donnie finally whispered, “I accept the conditions.”

“Good. And thanks.” Leo replied happily, standing up and balancing on the branch.

“What for?” Donnie raised a brow, standing up as well and holding Leo in a tight hug so that they could both safely float down to the ground. As they descended, Leo responded:

“For doing the best you can.”

[nobodywritesthings]

Some more random bits of trivia about With Great Power

Part 1

Might as well just… put this here.  Spoilers below!  I ended up talking a lot about the villain side of things.

All for One uses a quirk he refers to as “Clothing Swap” to replace Izuku’s hero gear in Chapter 1.  For some random reason, I made a description of the quirk that ended up in my notes, though it never became relevant again.  Here it is: Clothing Swap: The target may have any article(s) considered to be “worn” swapped with any other article(s) the user has seen them wear previously. The user may choose themselves as a target. The swap may be uneven - a hat can be swapped for a full outfit, leading to someone really overdressed, or a full outfit for a hat, leading to the opposite - but “nothing” is not an option for either side of the swap. Objects in pockets or similar places of holding may be transferred into similar places in the new outfit, if available; otherwise they will stay with the clothing they were originally in. See that part about the user needing to see the target wearing the clothes previously?  All for One’s been stalking, and Izuku would’ve been able to guess almost immediately if he heard the details of that quirk.

Speaking of my notes, I tend to name the random fic ideas I write down in order to keep them easy to reference in my notes (or head).  I don’t always use those names for the finished product.  I liked the reference to the quote, “With great power comes great responsibility”, that I ended up going with for WGP’s story/chapter titles; but I actually came up with that theme after the majority of the fic was done.  For most of the writing process, I kept it filed under “Kingmaker AU”.

All for One’s threats to Izuku in the first chapter were something of a bluff.  If Izuku refused to listen, All for One would’ve been in quite a pinch - he certainly didn’t want to kill or Noumufy Izuku, and he had the feeling that “lock him in a vault and make him listen” wouldn’t work any better here than it did with his brother.  He did have other plans in case getting Izuku to agree to parley failed, but he was massively relieved when it worked.  (Izuku’s threat in Chapter 10, on the other hand, was definitely not a bluff.)

Gigantomachia saw the resemblance between Izuku and All for One the moment Izuku opened his mouth - not just in the contents of Izuku’s self-introduction, but Izuku’s voice itself.  As seen in canon, he has a very dramatic emotional reaction to hearing All for One’s voice; and while Izuku’s isn’t an obvious match, he could hear similar notes.  This was helped by the fact that Izuku was very tired and decided to start making threats, and was consciously using All for One as a model for those.  Gigantomachia’s easy initial acceptance of Izuku was mostly down to this (”He speaks with the voice of my Master”).  Of course, Izuku’s speech about not proving himself to everyone who asked did make something of an impression on its own merits.

As for the rest of the villains, Shigaraki and Kurogiri were the only ones close enough to All for One to notice Izuku’s resemblance to him (or care; if Dabi had any suspicions, he kept them to himself).  It took a few days after Izuku was left with the dictatorship for Shigaraki.  Kurogiri, on the other hand, noticed years ago - but decided it wasn’t his place to wonder about it, so he didn’t.

None of the villains guessed that Izuku was a close relative of All for One’s.  They all thought, at best, that he was some distant relative who All for One had taken an interest in and who happened to suit his plans.  They were immensely surprised by All for One’s choice of successor.

Shigaraki and Kurogiri got emails after All for One disappeared, too, not just Izuku.  All for One drafted them beforehand, as well as a few alternate versions for theoretical scenarios that didn’t happen.  Shigaraki’s gave him some sarcastic advice on how to make nice with the new Overlord, which worked surprisingly well.  Kurogiri’s included advice on Izuku’s preferred coffee brands, which also worked surprisingly well.

All for One had discussed a few things with Gigantomachia beforehand and so didn’t bother with an email - namely along the lines of, “I’m planning to make someone else the Supreme Overlord in my place.  Do what you want, but your life will be short and painful if he doesn’t stay in one piece.”

Shigaraki and Kurogiri spent most of their free time after All for One disappeared trying to track him down.  Izuku won their loyalty over time - or more accurately, having gainful employment and being surrounded by decent people while trying his best to behave himself helped Shigaraki feel less inclined toward villainy, and Kurogiri appreciated being given a fair chance at all.  However, Shigaraki in particular had many questions for All for One, and Kurogiri followed his lead.  Gigantomachia them helped out for a while, until…

Gigantomachia saw Izuku’s “father’s” signature, and realized he might’ve accidentally stumbled upon a secret that All for One would be happy to kill half of Japan over.  He smartly refrained from telling the other two, and pulled back somewhat on his assistance in their search.

When Gigantomachia met “Hisashi” in person for that trip to America, he sent a panicked text to Shigaraki that he wasn’t offering any more help and that they should stop going behind Izuku’s back if they truly valued their lives and limbs intact.  This sparked their decision to bring their research to Aizawa while Izuku was away.  Yagi’s assumption that they were afraid of Izuku’s reaction was entirely legitimate, but that wasn’t the full reason for their choice of timing.

One more note about Gigantomachia: When Izuku had his panic attack in Chapter 5, the reason Yagi showed up was because Gigantomachia made a beeline for his office and told him that the Supreme Overlord needed his help.  Yagi ran.

I honestly didn’t expect for the villains to take up so much of the fic (or this trivia).  I also was hoping to have more of Aizawa and Class 1-A in the story.  But since criminal rehabilitation ended up being such a focus, the villains ended up being particularly relevant.  I’m still a tiny bit annoyed about it.

How much did Inko know about Hisashi?  He tried to give her a similar story to the one he gave Izuku once he returned.  However, she knew him and his views well enough that she managed to get out of him that he wasn’t “working with villains” entirely under duress, and that he had done a few things to earn the enmity of “people who were after him”.  She was surprised when Izuku made All for One tell her the truth about his villain identity, but less than Izuku expected.

I don’t usually have soundtracks for my writing - I’ll put on whatever music I feel like listening to, or even nothing, depending on my mood.  However, for Chapter 10, I wrote most of it while listening to “Devastation and Reform” by Relient K on repeat.  I think it fits the self-inflicted tragedy that is All for One’s existence pretty well, and helped me capture the right tone for his side of the story.

Alright, a cheerier note is in order.  Originally, Chapter 6 (now the Social Media Chapter) was an utter slog of exposition that made me despair.  I ended up scrapping it and rewriting it as a social media interlude that communicated the stuff I wanted it to communicate, but I ended up cutting along with it a draft of the scene Hatsume’s video refers to.  Y’know, the one where Izuku sets an attempted assassin on fire.  It was indeed accidental - she was hounding Izuku to let her make the perfect Supreme Overlord outfit, and had shoved an ordinary-looking watch at him when the assassins showed up.  He threw the watch at one of them and it exploded.  Hatsume got yelled at by a tired Izuku afterward for endangering the paperwork he’d have to fill out all over again.

In the Discord conversation where I mentioned the initial concept of this fic, someone proposed a scenario in which Izuku starts crying in the middle of the UN because some representative was being an asshole about how Japan was being handled, and then everyone else would jump in to go, “Nice going, Rick, you ruined a perfectly good Supreme Overlord, now he has anxiety.”  I therefore decided that I would indeed make Izuku cry at the UN.  This was how the UN chapter came to exist.  Of course, in my version, the tears were because of the support Izuku got, and the good guy was named Rick.

Izuku setting someone on fire was also a concept I got from my favorite Discord server.  Several other people had Izuku setting people on fire in their stories.  I decided to join them.

Finally… you know how I abbreviated “Supreme Overlord” to “S.O.”?  Yes, I’m aware that the abbreviation usually stands for “Significant Other”, and I decided to go with it because I thought it was funny.  And a good way to embarrass Izuku even further.

I think that got all the major trivia and a few minor bits too.  Though I probably can dig out other things from my brain if people have questions; my askbox is open.  Otherwise, I’ve got a new prospective writing project in the concept stage, so I’ll switching mental gears off of WGP, I think.

[diddlesanddoodles]

DUMPLING ch 42

The dress was a buttercup yellow with white rimmed sleeves that dragged on the floor. Nenani stood very still as Lolly carefully pinned the dress in several places to get the fit just right. Her mother stood to the side, watching with an odd mixture of emotions.

“You look beautiful, Nenani,” she said. But there was something in her eyes that made her look sad.

“The sleeves are so long,” Nenani said, tilting her head to look at Lolly and flapping her arms. “I look like a bird...”

“It’s the fashion right now,” Lolly said with a suppressed grin. “All the ladies at court are wearing them long. You will be turning heads when they see you.”

“Why do I need to be turning heads?” Nenani asked, feeling nervous. After her talk with Jae and Farris about the upcoming dinner, she was beginning to have serious reservations about the whole ordeal.

“Because you’re going to a dance,” her mother told her straight faced. “And it’s better to go wearing the proper shoes.”

Giving her mother a befuddled tilt of the head, Nenani asked, “Huh?”

“This dinner will be our first introduction to the Vhasshalan court in an official capacity,” Oira told her. “It would be better to make a good impression. And clothes are the first thing they will see. Well, aside from us being human that is. People at court have a certain capacity to be shallow and cruel. It was true in Silvaara and it’s true here in Vhasshal. We have to present to them a carefully painted picture so we can’t give them anything that might come back to haunt us later.”

Nenani looked up at Lolly with an anxious look. “I don’t think I want to go...”

“Don’t fret, Nenani,” Lolly told her gently. “All you need to do is stand there and look pretty. His majesty and your mother with handle everything else.”

As Lolly finished the fitting, Nenani could not strike the feeling from her mind that she was not going to enjoy any of it.

…………………………………………………..

It was a little awkward carrying her dagger and the roll of leather, but even as Jae asked for the fifth time if she needed help carrying anything, she assured him she was fine. But as they rounded the edge of the guard barracks and made their way to the smithy, Nenani turned to stared at Jae as he walked beside her, noting the bottle in his hand. When he looked over and saw her staring, his brow furrowed. “What?”

“I thought you were going to get rid of that,” she said, pointing to bottle of whiskey.

“I am,” Jae replied with a dismissive shrug. “I’m givin’ it to Connar. To try and bribe him into making your belt for you. Not that I think he would refuse you. But a little bribery never hurt. Plus, it’s easier to give this away then just dump it.”

“I don’t understand how you could drink that stuff,” Nenani scrunched her nose up and adjusted the roll of leather under her one arm. “It smells terrible.”

“Wasn’t drinking it for the flavor,” Jae assured her. “But a lot of folks swear it’s the best tasting whiskey you can get. Keral’s famous for it.”

“Still smells bad.”

“Funnily enough,” Jae shot back with a smarmy grin. “So does Keral.”

In all her time living in Vhasshal, Nenani had met all the resident humans save for one; Connar. He was a metal and leather worker in the King’s smithy alongside his guardian, Hev. Another name Nenani was familiar with, but had no face to match it with. The metal medallion around her neck, Jae’s neck, and all other humans in the castle were all made by Connar. Ostensibly due their smaller size, the job was much more suited to human hands than a giant’s.  

And as they drew nearer to their destination, the steady beat of metal striking metal became more pronounced and there was a metallic bite to the air itself as though she could smell the forge in the smithy just as she could smell the ovens in the kitchens. But instead of crusty loaves of yeasted breads, the only thing being pulled from the mouth of Hev’s fiery forge were the glowing bars of heated metal.

The smithy was a wide squat structure more reminiscent of a barn than a proper workshop. There was no door, rather the whole front of the building was left open. Tables were strewn with tools and weapons of all kinds and all in varying states of manufacture or repair. There was a barrel off to one side filled to the brim with flat metal blanks in the vague shape of a sword, only waiting to be heated and shaped into their final form and given a hilt. The walls were filled as well with swords and daggers, axes of varying sizes from a small hatchet to an enormous battle ax. And then beneath all of it, Nenani could heard the great breathing bellows of the forge and waves of heat hit her face as they approached.

They passed under the shadow of the smithy’s interior and Nenani scanned the walls as they pushed inwards. So much metal and weaponry and leather. It reminded her of the first time she was taken into the kitchens where she saw all the knives and cleavers therein, but even that paled in comparison to the sheer number of blades hanging from the walls and laying atop tables.  

“It’s pretty nice coming here in the winter,” Jae told her. “Stays nice and warm. But the summer is just brutal.”

Nenani paused to look over at a mace casually leaning against the leg of the table, marveling at the idea that anyone could pick up something so lumbering and heavy. It looked like it would be a challenge even for a giant.

Beside her, Jae slipped the bottle of whiskey under his arm and cupped his hands around his mouth. “HELLOOOOO!”

From further into the space came a response. “Hello?”

Jae turned to her and grinned before yelling back, “Hello!”

A pause and then a confused sounding, “Hello who?”

“Hello you.”

“Hello me?”

“Yeah.”

Another pause and an amused response came back. “...Jae? Is that ye?”

The young man laughed and called back, “Yeah, its me.”

There was a series of clanks and the sound of something shuffling around the dirt floor before a giant head peaked out from behind a wall near the back of the room. He had a round pleasant face and a dark, short cut beard with streaks of grey. His long black hair had been pulled into a long queue and it swung out from behind him when he poked his head out. Large brown eyes stared at them and then there was a flash of white teeth. “Well so ye are!”

The rest of the giant’s body followed his head from around the wall and he walked with long legged strides over to the pair of humans. A dark leather apron covered him from his chest down to his shins with the tawny fabric of his sleeves rolled up over thick burly arms. Despite considering herself very well accustomed to giants by this point, Nenani could not quell the sudden nervous bubble that form inside her as he bore down on them. He was more broad shouldered than either Farris or Bart and perhaps even taller. He towered over them for only a moment before he dropped down to one knee, leaning forward even more to be closer to their level. His face and arms were deeply tanned and there was a faint dusting of metal shavings stuck to his face and beard.

“Been a while since yev been down this way,” he said to Jae with an easy smile. “Was startin’ to think ye didn’t like us no more.”

“Nah, nothing like that. Things have just been kind of...hectic?”

The giant threw his head back with a loud short bark of a laugh. “So I heard. Some nutter tried to kill ye? Threw ye off the roof was it? Must be goin’ up in the world if someone found ye important enough to try and assassinate, lad. I’d congratulate ye, but it sounds like it’s more a pain in the arse than anythin’.”

“Nah, no such luck. I was just collateral,” Jae replied, gesturing with his thumb to Nenani. “He was after this one. Hev, this is Nenani.”

The giant’s thick eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Ah! So yer Farris’s lil’ squeaker? Ah, well, I suppose yer a Princess too, eh? Please excuse the state of me, yer grace. Always get a bit manky in the shop.”

“I’ll make you a deal. Don’t call me ‘princess’ or ‘your grace’ and I’ll forget everything else,” Nenani replied with a small smile.

“Oh?” Hev asked and then looked to Jae in confusion.

“She hates the titles,” he explained. “Best to just drop them.”

“Ah, well. I’ll try to do that, but forgive me if I slip once or twice. I don’t mean nothin’ by it.”

“Is Connar about?” Jae asked, holding the bottle up with a grin. “We got a commission for him.”

Hev dipped his head and huffed in amusement before lifting up again with a nod. “Oh, sure. He’s just nappin’ over near the rag pile. Cold weather makes his leg ache, so he likes to build himself a lil’ nest over there. I’ll get ‘im fer ye.”

Hev pushed himself back onto his feet and after a few quick stride of his long legs, disappeared back behind the wall. His voice could be heard clearly enough. “Connar, ye up? Come on then, wake up. Oi! Ye lazy bum. Put yer shirt back on. How can ye be complainin’ about the cold when he ye haven’t even got yer damn shirt on? Now get dressed and try to pretend yer civilized fer all of a few minutes, eh? Ye got company.”

There was a fainter groan and then a curse. “Huh? Wait...Really?”

“Yeah, Farris’s ward’s is here t’see yer sorry arse. Y’know...the Princess?”

“The...Princess? Wait. What?! Ah, shit!”

Hev gave a loud laugh.

“Where’s my shirt? Hev, where’s my shirt?”

“How should I know?”

“Well, I put it there and now it’s gone!”

“I didn’t steal yer grimy little shirt. What’d I even use it fer?”

“I dunno. Hide it for a laugh?”

“Ah, not this time.”

“Dammit...I know I had it...”

“...ye check yer pants?”

“What?”

“I said did ye check yer pants?”

“...wha…? Why would I check my pants for my shirt?”

“Because it’s tucked into yer arse, ye fuckin’ dolt.”

“What? Oh! Hey! There it is!”

There was a pause and the Hev said in a contemplative tone, “Sometimes I wonder how ye ever managed to miss seein’ that trap. And sometimes, like now, I don’t wonder quite as much.”

“...fuck you, Hev.”

“Love ye too, lad,” Hev replied cheekily and then shouted back at Nenani and Jae. “OK, yer grace. He’s decent enough. Oh, sorry. Already forgot about the title thing. I mean...yeah, yer good to come on back.”

Nenani shot Jae a look of confused amusement and he just grinned back. Rounding the wall that Hev had disappeared behind, the floor dropped two steps and opened into a large round room with a cone shaped ceiling that ended in a sharp point. Flat openings near the pitch of the roof were opened to the outside, letting smoke and heat escape. The farthest wall from the entrance was dominated by a round bricked forge that, to Nenani’s eye, looked very much like one of Quinn’s ovens, only much much larger. Around the lip of the forge were long black metal poles. Some were nestled into the glowing coals or leaning against the forge itself. Off to the left side was a large bellows, sitting on the ground and positioned perfectly for a giant to step upon it with their foot to breath air into the fire. Next to that sat a giant black anvil with on large hammer resting upon it.

To the right of the forge was an open barrel of water and just beyond that was a large pile of rags, all colored black from soot and dirt and it was there that Hev stood, looking down at a human as they adjusted their shirt and quickly tried to force their messy mop of hair into something presentable.

When Nenani and Jae hoped the last step and down onto the dirt floor, Hev looked up at them and flash a grin. “Ye might need to forgive the state of this one’s dress as well. I’d say he’s just feelin’ under the weather, but...he never really looks any better than this.”

“Shut it you.”

Nenani found herself slightly taken aback when she finally laid eyes on Connar. She had expected an older man by the way everyone spoke of him, but he was surprisingly young. Older than Jae, but perhaps more Riley’s age. Perhaps even a bit older, but only just.

Connar was a lean, dark haired young man with thin gray eyes and his face was marked with faint white lines across his tanned skin. Old scars. His hands were similarly marked, but the most prominent feature of his person was the distinct absence of his left leg. In it’s place was a carved wooden replacement. From his left knee down, his leg was gone and he stood instead with a false one peaking out from the folded fabric of his gray trousers. However, instead of a plain round peg as Nenani had seen before on some sailors, Connar’s fake leg was carved as though to mimic the real leg he had lost. It had even been oiled and polished and he wore a shoe as well to match the one on his right foot.  

He must have seen her staring at it, because when she looked up to meet his eye, he wore a knowing expression. “Lost it to a snap trap a couple years back,” he explained. “Some fucker was pouching on the King’s land while I happened to be trespassing through it and snap! No more leg.”

Her eyes widened in horror at the prospect. “That’s terrible!”

“Oh it was,” Hev agree vehemently. “Lil’ fella almost bled out in my arms.”

“But you’re not here to listen to my sob story,” Connar said, waving a hand and looking down at the roll of leather under Nenani’s arms. “Have a project for me, your grace?”

Hev bent down and tapped Connar on the head.

“Ow!”

“She doesn’t like titles.”

“Fine! You just needed to say. Ugh, that hurt!”

“Ah, I didn’t get ye that bad.”

“Says you,” Connar shot back, rubbing his head and wincing. He shook off the pain and annoyance and turned his attention back to Nenani and Jae. “So, what’ve you got for me, your-not-grace?”

“Nonna gave me this,” she said, holding out the dagger. “And I was wondering if you could make me a belt for it.”

Connar reached out and took the dagger, pulling it from its sheath and inspected the blade. Holding it to the light, he turned his eyes to Nenani. “You’re Thorn?”

“On my father’s side. Yeah.”

His eyes drifted down to the amulet around her neck. “And what about that?”

“It’s a fire opal,” she explained. “It helps keep my magic from spilling out all at once so I don’t die.”

Above them, Hev grunted, his eyed wide. “That can happen?”

“Yep,” Jae answered for her. “Almost did.”

“Well, that would be bad,” Connar replied. His eyes lingered on the metal chain. “Might want to swap that chain though. The links are far too thin to be holding up something that heavy. It’s gonna bust loose if you’re not careful.”

Connar slipped the dagger back into its sheath and then inspected the leather work of it. He hummed appreciatively. “They’re well made. The metal is very good. The blade needs sharpening, but I don’t think they really sharpen these. They’re ceremonial if I’m remembering right. Can’t have little kids stabbing each other, I suppose.”

He handed it back to Nenani, but as she tried to reclaim the dagger, the roll of leather fell from her arms. Connar picked it up and let it unroll. Holding it up, he whistled. “This would do well for a nice belt. But, is that all you’re wanting? Just a belt? There’s a lot more material here.”

She shrugged. “What else could you do with it?”

Connar gave her a devilish grin. “Oh, so many things. Tell you what. If can trust me enough, go on and leave me this here leather and come back to see me in...oh, about two days? I’ll have something for you.”

She nodded and smiled. “Okay.”

Jae stepped up and held out the bottle to him. “Here. Something to sweeten the pot.”

Connar’s eyes lite up. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah,” Jae replied. “Promised Farris I’d keep away from it. So I’m back sucking lime flower leaves.”

Connar quickly rolled the leather back up and slipped it under his arm before eagerly grabbing up the bottle. “Well, that’s your loss,” he said and then looked back to Nenani. “Let me revise my previous statement. Come back in three days and I’ll have something you’ll absolutely love. And I’ll see about getting a better chain for your amulet too.”

“Thank you!” she said excitedly.

Conna held up the bottle. “No, thank you.”

………………………..

Despite the cold weather, the repairs on the west wing were coming along at an astonishing pace. All the broken roof tiles had been pulled off and the masonry underneath taken apart, stone by stone, and finally the fire damaged wood beams. Large new timbers had been delivered and installed to replace them and the masons were now laying back the foundation stones with fresh mortar. But as the giants worked, their craftsmanship was not the focus of Nenani and Jae’s fascination.

“How would it even have gotten there?”

“It must be part of the original structure. Like the tunnels.”

“You’re saying that the humans who built those tunnels would have also been the ones to build that?”

“Well, who else would have?”

“There’s no way!”

“They must have, though. Unless ancient Vhasshalans did.”

“It’s huge!”

“What? You don’t think humans can build big things? Have you ever seen castle Nethwyn? Well...I guess you haven’t. But’s it’s freaking huge too. The great hall was big enough to fit a hundred people and thirty giants comfortably. At least that’s what I always heard.”

From the vantage point of a high gable, Jae and Nenani stared down into the open wound of the west wing’s roof and at an enormous stone head that rose up from within the thick walls. It was nearly as tall as a giant and three times as wide. The damage done by the dragon’s attack had revealed it when work began on the repairs and more astonishing was that there seemed to be more the further down they went. The back of its head faced into the corridor and was the majority of what was visible while its face, still obscured by the outer stone wall, looked out into the valley.  

“I thought Warren was just having a laugh when he said they found a giant head in the wall,” Jae said. “Or that maybe I just understood what he was telling me. Yaesha had given me some potent tonics.”

“Do you think there’s more of them?” Nenani asked.

“Maybe,” he said lightly. “But seeing how dug in that one it, it might take another dragon attack for the others to be dug out.”

Nenani made a face. “I wonder if he’s gonna have them wall it back up.”

“Don’t know. Seems a pity to cover it back up again.”

“Yeah.”

A short silence fell between them.

“So,” Jae said, breaking the quite, and tilting his head to peer at her curiously. “You ready for your official debut at court?”

“No,” she replied, her eyes watching one of the workmen slather a trowel with mortar and place a vaguely square shaped stone into place and giving it a rapid tap with the butt of his trowel before turning back to his bucket and beginning the process again with the next stone. “But I’ll be there. I’m just gonna do what Lolly said and just...sit there and look pretty. I guess. The dress is pretty heavy so that might be all I can do anyway. Are you going?”

He sighed. “Warren asked me if I would come and I tried to make an excuse, but Rosanna answered for me. So I’m going. And she’s already picked out my clothes for me and everything. And I swear she’s deliberately choosing the doublets that are just constricting enough for me not to be able to have any free movement. It’s like what I imagine wearing a corset’s like.”

Nenani laughed. “She knows you better than you give her credit for.”

“I mean...it’s nice not having to look over my shoulder all the time, but really. She’s starting to act like she’s my mom. Just this morning for example! When I went to talk to Warren, she didn’t like how I combed my hair and then did it for me. And Warren had the biggest shit-eating grin. It’s been years since I’ve had the urge to hit him, but ugh...got really close then. Could have done with that arm of yours. Wouldn’t thrown my damn shoe at him.”

“Yale must be right, then,” Nenani giggled. “Maybe she’s practicing being a mommy on you.”

Jae glared at her with an unimpressed look.

“So, speaking of the dinner,” Nenani said, steering the conversation away from the subject of the Queen. “Do have any pointers for me? On what I should and shouldn’t do?”

“Oh sure,” Jae replied. “A warning: a lot of courtiers might try to mess with you.”

“Mess with me?” Nenani frowned. “How?”

“Nothing too bad. And I don’t think Eldherst will bother you. I’m gonna bet he’ll be pestering Warren about the armory again. I just mean a lot of the Lords in power now were there during the war and some still harbor...ill feelings towards humans. Though not overtly. They’re a lot more...subtle about it. One or two of the older ones just saw me as Warren’s pet when I first came. One of them even asked me once wear my leash was and why I wasn’t on it. Should’ve told Warren about it, but I was still a kid and just wanted to leave. But I told Keral the next day. Supposedly he crushed up a dried red dragon pepper and slipped it into the Lord’s snuff box.”

With a look of horror, Nenani put her hand to her nose. Her mind supplying the mental image of someone snorting even just a small bit of regular pepper sounded horribly painful. But her horror turned into giggles and Jae grinned with her.

“For you though, the one I’d look out for most is Lord Calem. Tallish guy. Always wears this hideous yellow coat and wears too much cologne. You’ll be able to smell him long before you see him.”

“Why? Does he not like humans?”

“No. Opposite in fact. He is...very friendly.”

She looked at him askance. “How...is that a bad thing?”

It was Jae’s turn to make a face. “He’s a well meaning, but totally condescending idiot with no sense of personal space. And when he drinks, he gets all...cuddly. Especially with humans. I’ll tolerate Kol’s nonsense to a point. He’s my friend. But not Colem. He’s one of the main reasons I stopped going to those things.”

“What?” she laughed.

“Yep. He’ll want to pet you. Like...a pet. Like a dog. After two glasses of wine, he’ll get all up in your face and try to pet on you,” Jae said with a grin and then shrugged. “And since you’re small and cute, better watch out.”

She blinked at Jae’s choice of words, feeling her face flush.

“What?” he asked, looking at her.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly.

“...serious. You all right? I mean, the guy’s annoying, but he’s no Thrist.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

“...you just...well...you called me cute.”

“Uh huh..?” He drawled, squinting at her and she felt the heat in her face increase and she turned away from him to try and hide it. He leaned into her field of vision, a single eyebrow raised. “You feeling okay?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Yup.”

“Because you’re red.”

“I’m fine.”

“Like...beet red.”

“I said I’m fine!”

He smirked at her suddenly. “Oh.”

“Shut up,” she snapped and rose to her feet, turning to the open window behind them and hoping down onto the table below.

Jae leaned over to peer at her. “But I didn’t say anything...”

She glared at him. “I said shut up!”

With a smug grin so reminiscent of Keral that she felt the very real urge to punch him, he said, “You...you don’t fancy me do you?”

“No!” Her fingers sparked as she slammed the window shut and then pulled the latch down for good measure.

“Hey!” Jae got to his feet and pushed at the window. “Open up! Geez, Nenani, I was just joking!”

Nenani pretended she couldn’t hear him as she carefully climbed down the table leg, too angry and mortified to feel any pride in having gotten down off of a table all on her own.

“Nenani! Come one!”

“There are other windows!” she called back as she rounded the corner to find the tunnel door.

....................................

BONUS ART: Oh look! It’s ol’ Hev. 

[freemanverse-casualcomp-au]

Just A Normal Day at Your Neighborhood Arcade

AKA when your local neighborhood arcade is unknowingly also a place where two infamous legends meet up to play against each other.

Also why they’re HOT?!

His name is Gerald, and today is his first day working at a local neighbourhood arcade on New Mexico. He’s working as a part-timer worker with pretty decent pay, which is rare these days. His day duty is also quite simple; overwatch the place and make sure the visitors don’t cause much trouble while playing.

Seems simple enough, he thought, eyeing the nearly empty arcade. Today will be one peaceful day, huh…

“Hi there, Johnson!” One of his co-workers, Jason, waving at him while passing by his station, one of his hands carrying a red toolbox. He waved back at him, eyes lazily scanning the area around the mechanic as he stopped and put down the box beside some large arcade machines for Tekken 7.”Good luck on your first day here, I’d reckon you might need it.”

“What are you up to, Jay?” Gerald half-shouted, earning a glance from the mechanic.

Jason loudly hummed, eyes shifting back at the machine he’s working at. “Re-checking these fighting game machines so their performances on tip-top shape when both of them using them.” He answered the part-timer’s question, a small chuckle escaped from his lips. “Those two won’t stop nagging me if the controllers have a slight delay on them.”

Gerald raised one of his eyebrows. “Those two? Who?”

“Ah, well-”

“-and y’know how Chell is when she’s very determined, so she kept her distance to Gladys less than a meter, basically gluein’ herself to our cold albino queen!”

“Darn, that reminds me of when Alyx trying to get Hawk to smile, but most of her attempts failed and-”

The part-timer’s head turned to the source of the new voices that came from the front entrance. A massive-looking brunette-haired man with a black hooded suit and coat pants with an orange-coloured tie was talking to his slightly shorter companion, a lighter and slightly longer length brunette-haired man with a red plaid flannel shirt with the sleeve rolled to the elbow and paired with a pair of blue denim jeans and a black newsboy cap.

They definitely not looked like somebody that play in an arcade, one is too formal-looking and other looks like one of those farmboy helpers.

“Oh, welcome back, both of you!” Jason chirped, eyes still focusing on the machines. “How’s the last week’s match? Who won?”

The plaid flannel man pointed at the hooded suit man. “Gords beat ‘em up, and I got the second place.”

The mechanic heartily laughed. “Of course he is, as expected from North America’s Tekken legend.”

Gerald’s ears perked up. “These guys are famous?”

“Oh, I’m not really.” The hooded suit man shrugged, then nudged the plaid flannel man. “But this man over here was one of the youngest and most renowned archaeologists at the age of fifteen years old, now working as an archaeology major sub-teacher at Michigan State University and also a pro gamer.”

The plaid flannel man stuttered for a second before he got a grip. “A-anyway, we’re trainin’ together again for Tekken World Tour later,” he paused for a bit, his expression now a bit apologetic, “we’re sorry for last month, our friends got a bit...wild…”

Jason laughed out loud. “Don’t worry, your bosses paid more than the damage cost and now we got additions of a Japanese retro puzzle arcade and a racing car arcade.” He briefly shifted his eyes again, now at the two men while smiling softly. “I don’t mind both your friends’ vicious battle last month. In fact, it’s been a while since this arcade got that much rowdy and the visitors were enjoying their rivalry.”

The hooded suit man huffed out in relief. “Oh thank you, they’re feral children, alright.”

“Uhhhh, I’m sorry to disturb your conversation, but who are you both?” Gerald raised his voice, getting the two men’s attention. Both men went silent, before practically sprinting towards him, eyes sparkling with delight.

“We haven’t introduced ourselves yet, so of course you don’t know!” The hooded suit man started to flaunt a bit. “The name’s Gordon Freeman, but call me Antoine, honey bee~” He winked his green eyes at the part-timer, making his face heat up.

OH GOD, HIS GAY SOUL IS SCREAMING TO HUG HIM-

“And don’t take your eyes off me there, good-lookin’” The plaid flannel man tilted his chin with his finger to meet his bluish-green eyes, he could see the man’s smirk widened a bit as he tipped his cap down a bit, “the name’s Johnny Grady, nice to meet you too, pardner.”

Gerald immediately backed down from his station, stuttering badly as he covered his reddened face with both palms.

Goddamn, he’d already met two hot dudes on his first day already? What kind of fever dream he’s in now?

“Both of you, can both of you don’t flirt with the new staff, please?” Both men paused and looked behind them, Jason scoffed as if he’s disappointed. “Because of you both, the last one resigned because he questioned his sexuality so much after you both flirting with him so much. The last time I saw him after that, he’s waving a bisexual flag at the local pride fair.”

The part-timer slowly raised his hand. “I’m gay, though.”

Both men quickly turned their head at him, eyes widening for a while before grinning to each other. He could hear the mechanic’s loud sigh from his position. “...fine, but don’t overwhelm him.”

All of the sudden, he got hit by both men’s flirt attempts, each one managed to steal his heart bit by bit. His inner self slowly dying from all the hits it took and finally passed out as his outer self curled himself into a ball on the floor, his whole face was as red as a beet. Although he didn’t see them, he could see the piercing gaze, thirst for more flirting attempts, but his co-worker’s loud whistle stopped the gaze.

“Once again, please don’t overwhelm the poor boy!” Jason’s tone took more of a disappointed parent as he scolded both men. “Now look at what you did, he’s overheating! Leave him alone for a moment and go play here. I’ve placed an adapter for your console, Grady.”

“Goddamn, Jason. Thanks for your service!” And with that, the men walked away from his station. He was lying on the floor for several minutes, accompanied by both men’s excited gasps and shouts as Tekken 7’s arcade noises playing in the background.

It took him most of his willpower to get up and observe the men playing. At first, he wasn’t interested in any of things they’re playing, but as time passes, he focused on the notebooks they’ve brought with them as they scribbling down combos or put down characters’ key weaknesses and how to cover them. Over time, they watched some videos of the previous tournament and listing out strats for their foes. Though they’re also listed things about each other, there wasn’t any kind of bitterness feelings between them. In fact, he could categorize them as friendly rivals.

It’s been a while since he witnessed this kind of rivalry.

“You’re okay now?” Jason’s sudden voice startled him a lot, almost make him scream, but his common sense managed to get ahold of his composure. The part-timer nodded in response. “Good looks like they’re going to take their leave.” The mechanic pats his back. “Great job at handling their flirts for the first time, most employees’ responses were either faint or having an existential crisis.”

Ah, is that so…

he couldn’t blame them, their flirts were indeed that powerful.

“They’re both pro players from different org.” He pointed at the hooded suit man- or Antoine, he recalled. “That man is known as The Player in Hooded Suit, GorgeousMan from Black Mesa. He’s one of some North American players legend who got acknowledged by overseas players.” He then shifted his finger to the plaid flannel man- or Johnny. “As for him, he’s also known as The Wild Card Player, Rick from Aperture Games. Like Freeman, Grady’s got history to always score on minimal Top 8 or above that.” He lowered his hand, a smile still plastered on his face. “I’m proud to have them playing in this arcade.”

“Sounds like they’re a great person…” Jason slightly nodded, agreeing.

Few minutes later, both men were done packing their things and starting to head out, but not before Antoine once again winked and Johnny finger-gunned, both towards him. His heart fluttered, not as much as before, but it’s enough to warm his heart. He waved at them and they waved back at him with smiles plastered on their face.

Ah shit, he couldn’t leave from this job now, he’s fallen for two dudes he’d just met...

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

Lily Briscoe, Remember?

PART TWENTY-SIX OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: drinking, smoking, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: After a visit to a local bar, Ella catches up with Jess and spends a night in Philadelphia.

Twirling her cool water glass around and around on the grimy table, Ella smiled softly when a Strokes song came over the speakers. The bar was some hole-in-the-wall dive a few blocks down from the publishing house, still adorned with St. Patrick’s Day decorations although it was halfway through May. But Ella didn’t mind it. There weren’t rowdy swarms of college students or bachelorette parties. Instead, people in their late twenties sat around in black, square-framed glasses talking in buzzing tones. They had locally-made beer and a small, empty stage with just a stool, where independent artists played on the weekends. The air was salty with fries and early summer excitement. Matthew made conversation with her as Chris and Jess went up to order the drinks. Leaning back against the ripped vinyl booth, Ella listened intently as Matthew, sat across from her in a creaky wooden chair, told her about he and Chris meeting in high school.

“...so, we weren’t in the AV club or anything, but we definitely weren’t on the football team either-”

Chris led the way back to the table with a tray of beers and a hoot of satisfaction, Jess trailing behind his friend and rolling his eyes.

Stopping mid-sentence, Matthew turned to Chris and swiped a drink. Chris sat down beside him and was almost instantly chattering away. Matthew seemed kind, quiet, subdued. A good balance to Chris’s chaotic enthusiasm. Jess slid into the booth beside Ella, shrugging off his suit jacket, flushed in the stuffy air. Their upper arms touched, making her stomach do a flip. Even though it had been years since he lived at Luke’s, Jess still somehow had an aroma of pine.

“So,” Chris began, turning to Ella with a pointed look and a grin, “what do you do, Ella?”

“Oh, um, I’m a waitress.”

“And an artist,” Jess chimed in, taking a sip from his bottle.

Ella rolled her eyes and then shot him a teasing glare. “Not professionally. But I just graduated from Southern Connecticut State last week. Hopefully I won’t be filling sandwich orders my whole life.”

“You graduated already, Doogie?” Jess asked with a pleasant, surprised chuckle.

She shrugged. “Wasn’t too big a deal. I took summer classes and stuff.”

“What’s your major?” Matthew asked.

“Studio art,” she said. “Minor in history, though.”

Jess raised his brows, but said nothing. Apparently she hadn’t gone through only outward changes. He could smell her lavender perfume as he sipped on his cheap, watery beer. It was odd to see her in Keeley’s, a bar he’d frequented since arriving in Philadelphia. The feeling was not quite deja-vu, but his worlds were certainly colliding. In the back of his mind, he wondered where her necklace was, wondered where she was living. It was easy to feel like he knew her, maybe better than anyone, but they hadn’t spoken in so long. She could be married, for all he knew. Scanning her thin hands, he found no engagement or wedding rings. But an uneasiness still sat right under his skin, eager to be resolved.

Crossing his arms, elbows on the table, Chris leaned closer into the conversation. “That’s so cool! Do you have anything lined up? Seems like you should, considering how many people tried to buy your sketches today.”

She scoffed, continuing to turn her glass anxiously. A blush warmed her cheeks, and a nervous smile tugged at her lips as she averted her eyes down to the table. “Sort of. Grad school is where I’m headed now.”

“Really?” Jess chimed in. “Where?”

Clearing her throat, Ella raked a hand through her hair. Though Jess tilted his head at her, she refused to meet his gaze. “It’s funny, actually. I’ve still got some things to work out...but UPenn.”

“No way! That’s right down the road from us!” Chris exclaimed.

Ella’s smile widened marginally, and excitement rose in her chest. “Yeah, it’s weird. I had a few I was choosing between, and Penn reached out and...I only confirmed a couple weeks ago. A few days before I got your invitation in the mail. Since I was coming down here anyway, I scheduled my interview with the Dean for tomorrow.”

“Well, congrats,” Matthew said, raising his bottle.

“Thanks,” she replied, feeling slightly silly as she toasted her water against their beers.

Before another moment had passed, Chris got a page on his beeper. Apparently, the poet who had performed at the open house had left something of his behind and would need to be let in early the next morning. Matthew and Chris began commiserating amongst themselves about the performer, who was apparently less than a joy to work with. Biting on the inside of her cheek, Ella tried to suppress her smile. Too much joy made her nervous. It meant always waiting for the other shoe to drop. She’d had the odd mixture of anxiety and anticipation brewing in her stomach since opening Jess’s package. It was too much of a coincidence for her to be going to a school five minutes away from where Jess worked. Too perfect. She didn’t trust it.

Beside her, Jess was trying equally hard to hold in his emotions. She would be in Philly. Right down the road. She hadn’t been right down the road from him in what felt like forever. There were still so many unknowns. But he couldn’t help the swell of his heart. What were the chances? Plastering on a smug smirk, a mask to hide his exhilaration at her news, he nudged her gently with his elbow.

“So, you’re Philly bound?”

“Seems that way,” she said, nodding.

He hummed in acknowledgement, pausing to gaze at her for a moment. Freckles and Bette Davis eyes and a deep, raspy voice. So different but so familiar. She offered him a tiny smile, caught up in the moment. A swarm of pleasant butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and again, she wished they could kiss. Inside their private world, as they once had been.

“Y’know, I think it was fate,” Jess said, smirk growing. “Us both ending up here.”

She snorted a laugh and shook her head slightly. “Not all that idealist bullshit again, Mariano.”

“Hey, not everything changes,” Jess shrugged, taking another sip.

“Guess not,” she said quietly, a fond sparkle in her hazel eyes. “But I’d expect nothing less from a Hemingway fetishist.”

Jess rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Stevie Nicks.”

Instead of retorting, Ella snatched the beer sitting before Jess and took a long sip. Setting it down in front of him again, she winked and then began to hum along to Julian Casablancas’s lyrics.

.   .   .

“I’m serious. I was really planning on just getting a motel,” Ella insisted.

Shushing her, a finger on his lips, Chris shook his head. He stood in the tiny kitchen, rummaging through the rusty fridge for some drunk food. Matthew was tipsy, and had already retreated to his room. Chris, however, had managed to get absolutely wasted. They’d practically dragged him up the stairs in Truncheon to the apartment above, while he babbled loudly, complaining about his boyfriend being out of town for the open house. Now, as Jess and Ella argued about her sleeping in the apartment, he offered slurred interjections and cackles off to the side.

Jess, having only drunk two beers over the course of the day, rolled his eyes at his friend. “Go to bed, man.”

“Make me, Jess,” Chris replied jovially, retrieving a box of fried chicken from behind the half-and-half. Straightening up, he shot them both a smug grin and made for the bedroom he shared with Matthew. “Have fun, kids.”

“Good luck fighting that sweater off your head,” Ella quipped, not able to stop the words before they left her mouth. Chris, for all his exuberance, was wearing deceptively stuffy clothes. A button-up with a patterned sweater over it, khakis.

Again, Chris only laughed. “She’s feisty. Let’s keep her forever.”

Smiling thinly, Ella gave him the finger. He blew her a kiss before entering the dark room and shutting the door loudly behind him. Ella winced slightly. She knew Matthew was probably already asleep in one of the room’s twin beds.

Jess ran a hand down his face, standing amid the cluttered mess of their living room.

Ella turned back to Jess, crossing her arms over her chest as an amused crease formed between her brows. “How’d you end up living with them again?”

“Long story.”

“I would imagine.”

“He’s usually not quite so intolerable, but it’s been a big day,” Jess said apologetically. “And he’s still super pissed his boyfriend had to go outta town for work.”

Ella shrugged. “Hey, no problem. I like them. But, yes, it has been a big day. And I don’t want to keep you up any longer. So, why don’t I just stay at a motel?”

Shaking his head, Jess gestured for her to follow him and led the way to his bedroom. “Yeah, right. It’s past midnight. You can just crash with me. Not like we haven’t shared a bed before.”

A heavy sigh escaped her lips. “Are you sure? At least let me take the couch. I’ve been sleeping on one for two years, anyway.”

“At Lane’s?” Jess asked, switching on the ceiling light as they entered.

Surveying the bedroom, a smile immediately came to Ella’s lips. The living room was an absolute mess, but he’d managed to keep his own room decently clean. In the small space, he had only a queen-sized bed, pushed against the wall with the windows, and a dresser, on top of which his boombox sat. Piles of books and CDs littered the scratched wood floor, mostly in the free corners. A framed poster of Nietzche hung above his bed, and she burst out laughing when she saw it, before she could help herself.

“What?” Jess asked, brows furrowed.

She pointed to the poster, then bit down on her thumb nail to stifle her giggles. “Nothing, I’m just glad you’re becoming self-aware.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Already overstaying your welcome, Stevens. The bathroom’s the first door on the left when you walk into the apartment. You can get changed, brush your teeth, whatever.”

Nodding, Ella slipped off her shoes near the door and put down her heavy shoulder bag. It only took a minute of rifling through before she found the pajamas and toothbrush she’d packed for the short trip. Since she was little, she couldn’t fall asleep before brushing her teeth first. Clutching the supplies in her arms, she turned back to Jess. He’d taken off his suit jacket and tossed it down on the bed, was unclasping his watch and setting it down on the dresser. He looked so grown up in the yellowish overhead light, bright against the dark green walls.

“This is really okay with you, Jess?” she asked, sounding shyer than he’d ever heard.

“Yeah,” he replied, flashing her a reassuring smile. “What kind of host would I be otherwise?”

Smiling back, Ella nodded again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

As she left the room, Jess let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in and ran a hand over his mouth. He thought back to the night she’d let him sleep over, dragged him from the freezing back seat of his old car into her warm bedroom. It was the least he could do. Truly. But anxiety squeezed his insides tightly. He tried to shake it off. Ella herself had said he didn’t need to be nervous. He changed into some sweatpants and a t-shirt quickly, running his hands through his neat hair and turning it messy. When she returned, face washed and teeth brushed, he was just flicking on his bedside lamp and pulling back the blue comforter. He recognized the Bowie t-shirt she wore from some vague memory.

“No KISS shirt?” he asked.

She chuckled as she stuffed her dress and toothbrush into her bag near the door. “Oh, I never travel with that. Couldn’t bear for it to get lost.”

“Oh, right, my mistake,” Jess said. “You can turn out that switch, if you want.”

Ella turned off the overhead light, left only in the glow of his nightstand lamp. Before the nausea could overtake her, she powered through the shakiness of her hands and came to sit across from him. It didn’t need to be strange. She’d just gotten her best friend back. And they could sleep in the same bed as they had so many times before.

“Since I’m already taking advantage of your hospitality,” she began, eyeing the half-empty pack of Marlboros on the floor by the bed, “could I maybe borrow a cigarette?”

Smirking fondly, Jess nodded, reaching down to grab the pack and the lighter. He lit hers for her as she held it between her lips, and then his own. He cracked open the window and flicked ash out into the May midnight.

“What’s got you smoking?” he asked.

She sighed through her nose in white streams. “My interview with the Dean tomorrow. I mean, I’m already in. And they contacted me because of my portfolio. But, I don’t know. Anything could happen.”

“But it won’t,” Jess said. “It’ll be fine. You’re Lily Briscoe, remember?”

A weak smile crossed her face and she gave an unconvincing nod. Then, she looked back up at him curiously. “What about you? Still smoke as much as you did in high school?”

Jess shook his head. “No. Almost never. But I may have panicked about this whole open house thing last night.”

“Looked like it went great,” she said, tapping ash out the window, sitting cross-legged.

Shrugging, Jess leaned back against the wall behind his bed. “We’ll see what that lady from the paper writes.”

“Who cares what she thinks?” Ella asked.

“People who could spend their money here,” Jess answered, chuckling breathily.

Waving a dismissive hand, Ella took a final drag of her cigarette. She crushed it out on the windowsill, where she saw the small, circular remnants of smokes past, before throwing butt out the window into the dumpster below. “Maybe. Seems like you’ve got a pretty decent underground following already.”

“And you call me the idealist,” he said, shaking his head and tossing out his own cigarette.

She laughed lightly, following Jess’s lead as he closed his window again and got under the covers. Soon, they faced each other with their heads against Jess’s pillows. They smelled like him. After shutting off his lamp, Jess regarded Ella in the dim light. He felt like he’d stepped through a door into a memory or a dream.

“Speaking of Truncheon, tell me about the book,” she said quietly.

“Which book?”

“Your book, Sherlock,” she teased.

He sighed, swallowing dryly. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” she replied. “I mean, when did you write it? How did you write it? Did ever end up getting a computer, or-”

“Woah, Stevens,” he interrupted, snickering at her rapid-fire questions. “I started writing it when I was still in Stars Hollow.”

She furrowed her brows. “What?”

“Yeah. That notebook I came back for when I picked up my car? I sort of...started before I left. I took a break in California. But I started taking advantage of the library computers when I got back to New York.”

“So, it really was an On The Road thing.”

“Not quite so ambitious,” he said. “But, once I read that Stephen King book you got me...I just got started.”

“And you never told me?” she asked.

He only shrugged in response.

Ella shook her head slightly, watching him with furrowed brows. “Curiouser and curiouser, Mariano.”

“I wanted to surprise you with it.”

“Well, you did.” She thought she saw a flush rise to his cheeks, but couldn’t quite tell in the low light. Something indecipherable flashed across his eyes as he hesitated. She took the lead instead. “Hey Jess?”

“Hm?”

“I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Jess rolled his eyes, really blushing now. His face went scarlet, and he uttered a nervous chuckle. “Thanks, Daria.”

“Anytime, James Dean.”

Ignoring the flip of his stomach, Jess let the compliment roll off him like water and faced her earnestly. “Did you say you were still livin’ with Lane?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It was just...easier than getting my own place. A smaller chunk of the rent to pay. Especially with how many classes I was taking, and it was right across the street from Luke’s. At some point, we upgraded to a futon, so it was a little easier to sleep.”

Jess snorted. “I’m pretty sure you could fall asleep in the middle of a tornado, get transported to Oz, then back to Kansas, and wouldn’t wake up the whole time.”

“Be that as it may,” she said pointedly, “it was pretty okay. But Lane and Zach are getting married in a couple weeks. It would be time to move out even if it wasn’t for grad school.”

“Lane and Zach?” Jess asked, brows furrowed in surprise. “What about that Dave guy?”

Ella sighed softly. “He went to California for college. Eventually, they broke up. And she was on and off with Zach and...I don’t know. He’s not the worst guy. And I know there’s no talking her out of it, anyway.”

“People are gonna do what they’re gonna do,” Jess agreed, thinking back to his own mother’s last wedding.

“I’ll miss her, though. Without Lane, I would probably still have majored in history. Ended up teaching at Stars Hollow High.”

“No way.”

“I’m not so sure. But just seeing Lane play with the band all the time...she looked so happy. Even though she had no money and her mom was pissed at her. I thought maybe actually trying to do what you love wasn’t such a crazy idea,” she explained, voice husky and tired, but so lively.  

It made Jess smile. “That’s great, Eleanor.”

She shrugged again and cleared her throat, wincing slightly. “Ugh, Jesus. Smoking is never worth it. I don’t think I’ve smoked since...since the last time we saw each other. The morning after you left.”

His face fell. There it was. Finally. “I’m sorry, Elle.”

“For what?” she asked dismissively. The past was past.

“For that night. Everything. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“It’s okay, Jess.”

“Luke gave me this stupid self-help book and I read it and we kinda went to the wedding together and I got...mixed up.”

Smiling softly, Ella shifted in her spot to move a little closer to him. “I’m gonna need more details on that self-help book later.”

He uttered a self-conscious scoff.

“But, really Jess, it’s okay. I understand. And...I just...I wasn’t ready,” she said finally, struggling for her words. “After I moved out of my dad’s house...I still needed Lane. And Lorelai. And Luke. I always thought getting away would fix everything. But...I wasn’t ready for you.”

A sad smile tugged at his lips. “I don’t think I was ready for you, either.”

Breathing deeply, Ella let the moment pass between them. Forgiveness, maybe? On both sides? She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but she knew it made her feel calmer. Maybe ripping old wounds open was worth it if it meant they would finally get the chance to heal.

“I bet you started breaking hearts when you got here though. What with the starry-eyed starving artist thing you’ve got going on,” she said. She knew it was a flimsy attempt at being sly, but she just couldn’t bring herself to ask him outright. And he was letting her sleep in his bed. That was a positive sign. But she needed to know for sure.

He chuckled slightly and shook his head. “Not really. Turns out, people don’t flock to the guy with nothing but a shitty final draft and a duffel bag to his name.” Then, after a beat of silence, sirens blaring from somewhere off in the distance of the city, he spoke again. “What about you?”

The inquisitive, almost hopeful, tone in his voice made her heart skip a beat. “Nothing extraordinary. A couple dates. Guys. Girls. Never got anything to stick.”

“Hm.” Jess paused, watching Ella watch him.

The sound of the singing crickets mixed strangely with the murmur of the city, even in the early Monday morning hours. Ella tried to remember each detail of the present moment. Lying beside Jess in Philadelphia, preparing to go to grad school, finally out from under the thumbs of her father and Stars Hollow. And in love. She decided on it finally. Nothing had changed. She loved Jess as she had for so long, even if she had never truly realized it. Maybe she had, but was too scared to admit it. She thought back to the day he took her to the Met, riding back home in his car, nothing but the dark, empty highway around them. She’d almost said it then. But she hadn’t. Even then, though, she’d been completely his. All or nothing. Do or die.

Slowly, she brought her hand out from under the covers and placed it on his cheek. She stroked his stubbly skin with her thumb. The boy who’d turned into a man all on his own, who had always been so guarded and so kind. Who gave her a bed when she was drunk and bought her charcoals on Valentine’s Day and took her to museums and wrote books for her and hung her drawings on his wall. Who she had taken to a private movie and driven to the emergency room and kissed as an Interpol song played and brought in from the cold. The give and take which had always been there, making her feel safe. Easy. Home.

Taking a moment to close his eyes, Jess quieted all the thoughts screaming in his head.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

“I missed you too,” he replied, too overwhelmed to say much of anything else. He remembered the night on the bridge when they’d decided to try together. How the nerves had made his stomach churn. But she’d taken his hand in hers. She’d made the first move. And made his whole being feel calm. She had cared for him when he couldn’t care for himself. It made him feel like a teenager again. Her touch. Her voice. Her mind.

He wound his arm around her waist and brought her closer, hugging her tightly. They were silent and comfortable. Eventually, Ella’s breathing deepened and Jess felt her muscles relax, holding her. Outside, he could see the full moon reflecting light against a clear night sky. And he felt so content he could barely shut his eyes for a second, fearful of missing anything.

[dreamyjoons]

devilish // ksj

Synopsis: desperation can make you do many things - although selling your soul to a crossroads demon is a little far. But Jin isn’t just any crossroads demon, and he’s going to prove it to you.

Genre/warnings: 18+! Pure smut, Demon!Jin. Oral (m and f receiving), rimming, slight bondage, overuse of ‘pet’, faint ‘sir’ kink, choking, lil rough sex, dom!Jin, outdoor sex, unprotected sex (be safe), tiny bit of spitting, marking, spanking, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, swearing, maybe a tiny bit of fluff.

Words: 5.6k

A/N: so, this got out of hand - it originally wasn’t going to be smut but as you can see, that didn’t happen. I wanted to release a fic for another member but this had other ideas, so hopefully there will be something out this weekend. Enjoy this mess! 🧡

As you kick the final bit of dirt over your offering, your eyes shift warily to the roads surrounding you.

The crossroads was truly in the middle of nowhere. You hadn’t seen another car or person in hours, and the last of the daylight had truly vanished. Your beaten up old car sat just off the road behind you, and you mentally began counting down the minutes until you could get in it and drive away.

This was stupid. Turning to make a deal with a demon. You were sure they didn’t exist. But when you’re desperate, why not try anything?

Five minutes. That’s all you would give it. After that, you’d get into your car and drive home, having to suffer the reality of your life. You weren’t giving up, but it was getting harder and harder.

The dust blew up around you as you waited, the chill of the evening seeping through your jeans and jacket. The distant call of an animal startled you, making you feel infinitely more exposed. It was probably time to go.

You turn with a heavy heart, leaving the offering half sticking out of the hole in the dirt road that you’d dug with your hands. You’re sure it’ll amuse someone. You walk quickly to your car, your hand reaching out to grab the handle when a gust of wind blasts you from behind.

You stagger slightly, turning around. You gasp, your eyes fixing on a smiling man standing over your offering.

“Hello there, miss Y/N.” He smirks, and you’re surprised you can hear him over the hammering of your heart. Of course he would know your name. Chills shoot through you.

“Who are you?” You ask, daring not to move.

“A demon, obviously.” He raises an eyebrow at you, and you’re stunned. Did you just get sassed by a demon? Can they do that?

“I… Yes, I guess you are.” You say dumbly, and before you can think better of it, you walk towards him, stopping a few yards away.

He was divine. Or pure sin, however you wanted to look at it. Black hair, smooth skin, puckered plush lips and black eyes that had hidden depths. He stood in a black suit and tie with a red shirt, perfectly tailored to his sculpted body. His wide shoulders were held proudly, and you followed the expanse of chest that he puffed out with pride. Meanwhile you stood with tatty skinny jeans tucked into dusty combat boots, your top half in a tee and shrouded in a bomber jacket. You were nowhere near his level - he dripped luxury.

“What is it you desire?” He asks, taking a smooth step towards you.

“I… need a new life, so I need money. A lot, as it turns out.” You sigh, meeting his eyes. The black didn’t scare you like you thought it would have. It made you want to get closer - but you knew that was dangerous. Too dangerous.

“Ah. And why turn to making a deal with a demon? There are millions of people who need money.” he sighs, turning over his hand and examining his nails, a look of severe disinterest on his face.

“I’m not millions of people. I’m one person that needs change as fast as possible. I want out of this dead town. I don’t earn enough to live, my exes are working on personal vendettas to ruin my life and I have no family here any more. My friends are in other cities and work around here is dying. I need out, and I need out now.” You spit, his apparent lack of care making your blood boil.

His eyes flick up, your raised tone piquing his interest. His lips curl into a smile as he walks towards you, and begins to circle you, assessing you. You grit your teeth and wait, fixing your eyes into the darkness as he takes his time. He finally stops within arm’s reach of you, his eye meeting yours in a deadly stare.

“I’m Jin.” he nods, and you nod back.

“I’m Y/N.”

“I know.”

“Yeah, you made that clear with you being a demon and all.” You snark, and immediately bite your tongue.

You need help, not to be exploded on the spot. Could he even do that? It was better to not tempt a devil.

“You’re awfully brave for someone who’s life is in my beautifully refined hands.” He smiles, and you mull over your thoughts.

“I guess when you’ve got nothing to lose, you get a little braver.”

He looks you up and down again before smiling, and a shiver runs through you. You were sure it was to do with the cold, dark night, and not the way Jin’s eyes examined your every feature.

“I suppose so. Then let us make a deal, and work out our terms.” He smiles, before reaching forward and taking your hand, and dragging you back to the centre of the crossroads.

You hold your breath as your hand sits in his, the warmth radiating from his skin. He stops in the middle of the road and drops your hand, before bending down and scooping up your offering.

“Let’s see… a bone or a bird, three drops of blood, a secret written with your non-dominant hand,” He pauses to read what you had written before looking up at you with a filthy smirk on his face. You look away, heat burning over the surface of your skin. “Nice. Hmm, and an item of extreme personal value.”

He turns over a small silver ring in his fingers, the thin band of metal curved delicately in his perfect fingertips. Your eyes stay glued to the ring, your heart flipping every time the ring disappeared from your eyesight. He catches how pained your expression is, and notes just how personal it must be. A family heirloom, no doubt.

“These are decent. Let’s discuss your deal.”

“Hit me with it.” you nod, bracing yourself. Making a deal with a demon was going to come with a steep price. He half laughs, his eyes examining your face.

“You’re a funny little mortal, aren’t you?” He laughs.

“Oh, er, thank you-”

“You’re welcome. Now,” he grins, opening his arms wide. “The terms.”

“Do I have to give you my soul?” you ask, almost jokingly, but the contemplative look he gives you makes your heart thump its way into your throat.

“Not right away. But something about you makes me think your soul will be particularly delicious. Still, I won’t be needing your soul for a while. At least ten years, deepening on how well you pay me for my services.” He smiles, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You choke on the air you’re breathing, finding it difficult to meet his eyes.

“So, I can grant you enough money for you to make a comfortable start somewhere else. If you are wise about it, you can have a good life.” He states with a flick of his hand. “Your payment will be to give me three earthly favours that I cannot perform myself.”

“Three? Are you going to get me to commit crimes or do some ridiculous shit? Because if so I don’t want to make a deal.” You rush, crossing your arms and fixing Jin with a determined look.

“Two then, since I like you so much. And nothing too bad. Nothing you won’t be arrested for or not be able to wash off.” He shrugs, and you don’t like the way that sounds.

“What about one? Because you like me?” You offer, and he laughs. It’s in a higher pitch than you imagine, and it crinkles his eyes. You find yourself smiling too.

“I like you, Y/N. No one makes jokes with me. It all gets very boring after a few centuries of doom and gloom.” He says as he straightens from his laugh. You find yourself fascinated by him.

“A few centuries? How old are you?” you ask, subconsciously taking a step closer. He notices though, and revels in it.

“Old enough to know better, pet.” He smirks, bringing a hand up to push a strand of hair away from your face. You feel your stomach flip at his actions.

“Okay, one earthly deed. But your payment will be to give me your soul in nine years, unless you’ve done enough good in this world to extend it. And a kiss from you, that is also my demand.” His eyes flicker to your lips, and you gulp.

“My soul and a kiss? Sounds like fun.” You laugh awkwardly, that nervous habit of yours to say something dumb in an important situation really coming back to bite you in the ass.

“Oh it is, Y/N. You’ll find that these beautiful lips and handsome face are great to kiss.” He smirks, holding his head up proudly. A small laugh falls from your lips.

“Aren’t you meant to be… Different?” You murmur, and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re supposed to be a demon, right?” You ask dumbly, and he laughs lightly.

“I was the last time I cursed someone.” He shrugs, and you forcefully push that terrifying thought away.

“Well aren’t demons meant to be, y’know, scary and evil? All broody and weird and making me want to scream and run away.” You explain, your pulse thudding loudly in your veins as you gauge his reaction. You didn’t want to finally push the wrong button and have him eviscerate you or something.

“Do you want me to be all broody and dark and mysterious?” He asks, and a part of you does want to know.

He lets his smile slip slowly from his face, the joyful crinkle of his eyes smoothing out until he glares at you, the black of his pupils spreading out until his entire eye was as dark as night. He takes a step back from you and stands to his full height, a shadow falling across his face as he watches you. The air around you somehow make the blood in you run cold but causes your skin to break out into a sweat. An unbearable pressure holds itself down ony our chest, but you cannot draw your terrified eyes away from Jin. He draws his lips back to smile, but it twists his face into something entirely inhuman and wrong to look at with your mortal eyes.

“Is this what you wanted, pet? Dark and deathly?” He asks. His voice is lower, dark and with an echo that you cannot place. You shake your head harshly.

“I don’t like it, Jin.” You say in a small voice, and his facade drops at once. In a blink he is back to the softer form, gentle eyes examining your face.

“I’m sorry to frighten you, Y/N. But as you can imagine, having people look at you the way you just looked at me now takes its toll, even if I am a demon.” He sighs, stepping forward slowly to not spook you.

He reaches down and takes your hand, and you fight a flinch. He rubs soothing circles into the palm of your hand and you let yourself relax a little. He smiles at you, warm and inviting.

“So do you agree to my terms, Y/N?” he asks, and you contemplate your fate. If you were going to be as stuck in the future as you are now, then why not? Things can still change, you have time. And although a small part of your brain tells you he wouldn’t hurt you, seeing something dark in him wasn’t something that you wanted to provoke for wasting his time.

“Fine. I accept. Do you have something I need to sign, or…?” you trail, and he tilts back his head to laugh.

“No, your soul will be marked by me and me alone. I will know when it is time. But we seal the deal with a kiss.”

“A kiss? Does that corny line work on many people?” You ask humourously, but he shrugs.

“It is how we finalise the transaction. I have kissed many people in my time. It helps to be this handsome.” He smiles, before blowing you a small kiss. You roll your eyes.

“You really are different.” You mutter, finding yourself endlessly endeared by him. By a demon. You need to get a grip. It was a dangerous game you were playing, even without finding yourself attracted to the demon.

“May I claim my kiss now?” He asks gently, cupping your face. You nod your head once, you eyes flicking to his lips and back up to his eyes.

He brings his face closer to yours, and you let your eyes flutter shut. You feel him hover just above your lips for a second before his lips pressed against yours, feather light and soft. He pulls away slightly to change the angle of his kiss, his plush lips pliant against yours.

He breaks away, and you open your eyes to look at him and find his eyes surveying your face with a soft look in his eyes. You smile, which he returns.

“So… is that it? Is there gonna be some money magically pinging into my bank?” You ask, your voice breaking.

“Pretty much. Why, do you want to get rid of me already? It was just starting to get interesting.” He smirks, and you roll your eyes and look away, trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Don’t you have some like, possessions or something to do?”

“I like to take control if that’s what you mean,” he smirks, and you groan out loud, “but it sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me, pet.” He raises an eyebrow at you, sliding his hand from your cheek to rest at the back of your neck.

“No! I mean, no. If you wanna stay for a bit, y’know, I wouldn’t mind.” You rush. You didn’t want him to go - not really. Demon or not, he was fascinating. And the fact that you wanted to feel his lips on yours again had nothing to do with it.

“You fascinate me, Y/N. I will stay for a bit - I have duties to perform but they can wait a while.” He says in a low voice, twirling his fingers in the hair at the base of your neck.

He suddenly abruptly leaves your personal space, detangling his hand from you and stepping back before waltzing over towards your car. All you can do is stare on, confused, before your mind kicks into gear and you’re trotting after him.

He taps his foot lightly against a loose panel on your driver’s door, causing it to make an uncomfortable creak. You cringe at the noise, before stepping forwards and placing yourself between him and the car.

“Leave her alone! She’s already falling apart without you sticking your shoes all up on her.” You yelp, hands defensively laying across the roof of your car.

“Mhm. I can see why you need money. Poor thing’s on it’s last legs. She needs a little TLC.” He smirks.

He starts to run a finger over the door frame before drifting it onto and up your arm. You shiver at the light contact, causing his smirk to turn into a full devilish grin. He takes a step forward so that his face is hovering a few inches from yours, and you dared not move.

“It seems that your car isn’t the only one that needs some special care.” He whispers, and you hold in a moan.

“What makes you think that I want anything else from you, Jin? You’re already getting my soul.” You say a little breathlessly. He laughs just above your ear, his hot breath fanning over your hair and neck.

“Believe me pet, you’ll like what I have to offer.” You gulp at his words and squeeze your eyes shut. It had been a very long time since someone had this kind of effect on you - and it was a little scary.

“I don’t know. The kiss was okay, but money is what I really want from you.” You state, adrenaline coursing through you as you play with fire.

He pulls back and looks at you, intense and full of emotion. He finally closed the distance between you, his body pressing yours into the car, his face two inches from yours.

“You’re not making this easy, Y/N. Give in to me, I won’t hurt you - unless you want me to.” He almost growls, and you almost soak through your panties there and then.

“If you want something from me, you’ve got to work for it. After all, you are in the deal-making business.” You shrug nonchalantly, but your eyes stay fixed on his.

He looks stunned for a second - shocked that anyone would rise to meet him in such a way.

But then his lips crash back onto yours, rougher and faster than before. He slides a hand around your waist to pull you tighter against him while the other holds the back of your neck. You moan into the kiss, wrapping your arms over his wide shoulders as you both fight to control the kiss.

He breaks apart the kiss to suck in air, his hand moving from your neck to cup your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Tell me to stop now, before we head down this path.” He pants, his stormy eyes scanning your face.

“I’m willing, if you are.”

With that he dives back in to kiss you again, grinding his hips into you so that you can feel his hardening length pressing into you. You gasp into the kiss, and he takes advantage by darting a tongue in between your lips, tasting you for all his worth.

His hands knead into your ass, and you roll your hips to meet his gyrating body. He moans into your kiss before his hands leave you, and you feel them unzipping your jacket and tossing it on top of the car. The cold night air rushes to meet your skin and goosebumps rise, but you’re too focused on Jin’s rough kiss to care.

He finally breaks away the kiss to rip your shirt over your head and unclipping your bra with incredible ease. Your nipples are already hard, but in the cold air with Jin’s full attention on them, they practically ache.

“My my, pet. Aren’t you a pretty sight.” He speaks in a low voice, a deepness that you didn’t expect from him.

You practically keen under his gaze, your dark gaze fixed on him. He steps forward and presses his lips to your neck, biting and sucking their way down to your collarbones and chest. He bites and sucks hard, before smoothing over the marked skin with a gentle tongue. He finally reaches a breast and sucks a nipple into his mouth, rolling the sensitive bud. You gasp and throw your head back as his hand seeks out your other breast, tugging and twisting your other nipple in his nimble fingertips. You murmur his name like a curse as he alternates between a nibble and a suck, before pulling off your breast with a pop and switching to give the other his undivided attention.

He pulls back suddenly, the cold air rushing to chill the wetness over your breasts, the ache only making your pleasure more acute. He places both hands on your hips and spins you before pushing your torso flat against the car, the cold metal pressing into your skin.

“Look at you,” he whispers into your ear as his hands reach forward and begin to unbuckle your jeans. “So filthy, Y/N, letting me undress you out here. You want this, don’t you? You’re needy for me.”

You whine and nod as he finally unbuttons and unzips you, tugging your jeans and panties down together to your knees. He pulls you back a step before pressing you back against the car, your ass sticking out. He runs a soothing hand over your cheeks before delivering a hard slap. You yelp and jump forward, but he merely tuts.

“You have to stay still pet, or I’ll keep going and neither of us will get what we want. Is that how you want to play this?” He says in an almost mocking tone as he rubs his hand softly over the snacked area of your ass.

“N-no sir.” You stammer.

“Sir? Mhmm, I like the sound of that.” He smirks, before raising a hand and smacking your other cheek. You gasp as the contact but stay still. You’re rewarded with a soft kiss on each cheek.

“Good girl, pet. Now, let’s see how wet you are for me.”

You feel him kneel down behind you and spread your cheeks, and you can feel yourself practically dripping. You’re too worked up to feel even slightly embarrassed as he runs a finger along your slit. You practically jump at the sensation.

Without warning, he lunges forward and runs a tongue along you, his tongue hitting your clit with perfect precision, and you feel your knees go weak already. You suck in your breath as his tongue begins to lap at you, his hands keeping you spread.

He laps at your wetness, your walls clenching around nothing as his tongue works tirelessly on you. Soon he adds a finger, rubbing it to gather your juices before he slowly begins to push it inside you slowly. Your eyes practically roll back when his finger fully sinks inside of you.

“So tight for me baby. But I wonder what all of you tastes like.” He murmurs, and before you can even think of something coherent to say, he spits, the wetness drippbing down your asshole before his tongue is sliding up between your cheeks.

You swear under your breath as he begins to lick around your hole, his finger beginning to pump inside your wet core. The sensation is overwhelming and you begin to gyrate your hips, and as soon as he extends a finger to bump along your clit, you’re a goner. He thrusts his finger faster and swirls his tongue tightly and soon your diving over the edge, your orgasm wracking through you as your body pulses against your car.

Jin eases you through your orgasms until you begin to come down from your high. He pulls back from your ass and slips his finger out of you, leaving you panting.

“Delicious, just as I expected.” He smirks, and you barely throw him a look over your shoulder, and he grins sheepishly. You feel heat coursing through your body, a spike of shyness creeping through you.

He spins you around and then turns you both so that his back is pressed against the car. He pecks a hard kiss on your lips before leaning back and undoing his tie from his neck. He then wraps his arms around you, pulling your hands and knotting them together behind your back with his tie. He raises a questioning eyebrow at you and you simply nod. You wanted this.

You dropped to your knees on the dusty road, watching patiently as Jin began to unbuckle his trousers and letting them sag around his ankles. He then peeled down his boxers, settling them on his knees. He then smirks at you. He looks so broad and intimidating from this angle that it makes your mouth dry.

“I’m looking forward to this, Y/N. Don’t disappoint, now.” He demands, but you can see the playfulness in his features, and you fight smiling back at him.

“Yes sir.” You say in the sultriest voice you can muster, before dragging your tongue along the underside of his shaft.

His head rolls back and you smirk. You pull back off of him and spit on his shaft, and his head rocks back up. He smirks, and leans forward and dribbles some spit on his length too. Holding back a groan, you slide him in your mouth, spreading the spit along his length. Your hands twitch in their bindings to get involved, but you had to make do with just your mouth. You pull back off him with a pop, moving to take a testicle in your mouth, swirling your tongue on each one at a time, slowly. You only get through twenty seconds before Jin groans.

“Stop teasing me, pet. Take my cock in your mouth or I’ll make sure you suffer.” He growls, a hand sliding into your hair and yanking just hard enough to steer you.

Not wanting to upset him, you released a ball and run your tongue over the head of his cock, salty precum spreading across your tastebuds. Wasting no more time, you relax your throat and take him in. You let him revel in the warmth of your mouth for a few seconds before beginning to bob your head, drawing back and forth on his length.

“So good, Y/N. Keep going.” He grunts, gathering what he can of your hair into a fist.

Flushing at his praise, you push down further, feeling your throat try to close around his length. He groans and throws his head back, and before long he begins to move his hips, trying to find the right rhythm. You try to relax your throat as his speed builds up, letting him control your movements as he thrusts himself into you. You tug on your bindings, your eyes freely flowing. You can feel him getting close, his breathing more and more rapid and uneven, and you feel him twitching in your mouth despite how roughly he pushes into you.

With an abrupt tug on your hair, you’re pulled off his cock and facing up to Jin. His eyes are heavily lidded as he pants, broad chest heaving as he watches you watch you breath, tears running down your face. You offer him a watery smile and he groans again, letting your hair loose and gently rubbing his fingers into your abused scalp.

“Wow. A girl like you doesn’t come around every century.” He breathes, and you smile at his words. The tips of his ears begin to turn red and you feel your heart fluttering stupidly in your chest.

“Thank you sir.” You say, throwing in a wink for good measure. His eyes crinkle in amusement before he’s pulling you to your feet and walking you to the front of the car.

He bends you over the hood and lines himself up with your hole, running his length across your slit.

“You want this, my pet? Want to feel me inside you?” He whispers, pressing his chest to you back and sliding a hand to your throat.

“Oh fuck yes.” You grit out, but are swiftly brought back to reality by a hard smack on your ass cheek.

“Yes what?”

“Yes sir, I want your cock inside me, please.” You pant, turning your head to meet his eyes.

He gives you a devilish smirk as he resumes his slow movements across your slit before finally pushing himself inside you. You gasp at his unexpected size - not too big, but enough for a slight burn as he pushes further inside you. He seats himself fully inside and gives you a mere few seconds to adjust before he’s sliding almost fully out and then snapping his hips back into you. You gasp, wanting to find some way to hold on but you still had your hands tied, being pressed between your bodies.

Jin picks up a brutal pace, fucking his hips into you relentlessly. His hand around your throat begins to squeeze, and you can feel the blood pumping round your head. He releases his hold for a moment, and the little black spots that had begun to appear drift away.

“So good, Y/N baby. So tight for me.” He pants, saying whatever comes to his head as he forces himself closer to his orgasm.

He moved his free hand underneath your body, snaking it’s way to your clit and rubbing fast circles there. You cry out, Jin’s relentless pace pushing you to the edge.

“Fuck, Jin, I’m gonna-“

“Cum, pet, I wanna feel you around me.” He whispers, and with a few more hard strokes, you’re cumming.

You cry out as your orgasms rocks through your body, convulsing on the car as it rips through you. He gasps as your walls tighten around him, his harsh movements stuttering for just a moment.

Jin doesn’t let up his pace - in fact he works harder than ever, his hips roughly pounding into you. It all feels too much, but you can feel another orgasm wanting to come out. You had to push through pain to get it, and Jin knew too.

“We can get another, pet, I know we can.” He pants, pulling you both up so that you were standing as he rams into your sore hole.

He holds you against him by the throat as he begins squeezing again, your vision growing spotty as his fingers continue their assault on your clit. You swear continuously as you get higher and higher, and your next orgasm crashes over you.

Your clenching walls as your orgasms rocks through you pulls Jin with you, and soon he’s cumming too. He bites down on your shoulder but you don’t really feel it - your orgasms rocks through you as your sensitive core throbs. Jin’s hot cum fills you as he slows to a stop inside you. You feel it beginning to drip down your leg as he pulls out of you, warm and sticky, like pure sin. He finally releases your throat and your head swims, but Jin holds on to you and lays you both back over the hood of your car, both sucking in breath. He reaches over and unties your hands and you sigh, settling back on the hood rubbing them.

“Fuck.” Is all you say, and he lets out a breathless laugh next to you.

“Yes, Y/N. Fuck.”

“Do you do that with all the poor souls you meet?” You ask. Your head is still clearing, but you knew you desperately wanted the answer.

“No, you’re pretty special.” He smiles, rolling his head over to look at you.

You both look fucked out: sweaty faces and rapid breathing, blown out eyes that slowly start to refocus. But something is electric between you, and it wasn’t just great sex.

His eyes flick over your head to look at the moon and he curses under his breath. He sits up before getting off your car completely, pulling his boxers and pants back up. You follow him, pulling up your jeans and looking around for your top. You pull it on and chuck your bra and jacket into the car before turning to Jin.

He’s put his tie back on and finishes straightening it before he looks at you, fucked out and waiting for him in the moonlight.

“I don’t want to leave like this.” He blurts, and you cock your head.

“Demon shit, I understand.” You shrug, although you feel sadness creeping through your veins. You don’t want him to go. Not at all.

“... have you ever thought about becoming a demon?” He laughs, and your eyes widen.

“No, not really.”

“I think you’d make an excellent one. However,” he sighs, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around your waist. “You have a few years on the soul of yours to go.”

“Will I see you again?” You ask, pressing a hand to his broad chest.

“Of course, pet. I’m to watch over your soul until i can claim it. And you still owe me that favour.”

“Well, if you need any more favours like what we just did, I might be open to more visits.” You smile, heat tingling along your face. He laughs, the noise fast becoming one of your favourite sounds.

“Believe me, you cannot keep me away. But for now, I must go.”

He leans down one last time to press his lips against yours, your eyes fluttering closed. It’s’ a gentle but meaningful kiss, but he breaks away too soon. He gives you one last look before slipping out of your grasp and walking back to the centre of the crossroads.

Light tinges on the edges of the world, the dark black slipping into a deep blue. You can see the twinkle of his eyes as he turns to face you, a small smirk on his lips. He raises and hand and blows an exaggerated kiss to you and you laugh and look away briefly.

“I’ll be seeing you again very soon, Y/N. Wait for me.” He smiles sadly, and you nod fervently at him.

“I will, Jin. I promise.”

A gust of wind whips around you, sending your hair and dirt from the road into your face. You shield your eyes until the wind stops, and with a quick glance you see that Jin has gone.

Stifling the sadness that threatens to well in you, you walk back to your car and climb inside. You slump your head against the wheel and run a hand over your face when you feel something cool. You look down to see the ring you offered sitting on your finger, glinting brightly in the moonlight.

You smile, your heart thudding rapidly in your chest. With a deep, steadying breath, you turn the engine on and begin to move off. With one final look over your shoulder to the crossroad, you head back to your dead-end town with a new hope in your heart.

A new start, a new life, and a new person who will be a big part of your life.

Well, maybe ‘person’ was a stretch, but it didn’t matter to you. Not really.

[inspector-montoya-fox]

#3 - Vicious Voodoo

Setting: from ghost town to zombie swamp. Sly makes his way to the swamps of Haiti and SP wastes absolutely no time in establishing that this episode has to do with the supernatural (through both the opening cutscene and Bentley’s ranting). we’re entering morbidity itself, and the missions are truly eerie. the structuring and ideas here match each other but are also well-spread. for example, Mesa City had different locations for its missions, but it was the same decor and aesthetic in all of them. here, we get a waterfall overflowing with body-parts, lots of wilderness, a chicken coop, a beast’s “human”-built lair, and some kind of voodoo epicentre with rotating snake heads. there’s variety in environment and detail, and that makes it feel refreshing even though we’re being constantly bombarded by a flurry of guards. but i think SP mixed up their influences in regards to tone. replaying the game as a teen, i wasn’t sure if the episode was reminiscent of Haiti, or Southern US. Mz Ruby’s accent and Down Home Cooking gave me Louisiana vibes, if i’m being honest. it’s not bad, it’s just that it’s not really Haiti. lastly, Vicious Voodoo’s green suits its setting perfectly. it’s just... green... ?

Characters: Mz Ruby is probably my favorite villain in the series, alongside the Contessa and Neyla. she’s just it. she gives absolutely zero fucks about Sly being a few feet away from her and just keeps on spitting out shapes from her mouth. apart from giving us the most iconic bossfight in the series, she really delivers the sense of evil. like, she’s horrible but in a good way. her design exhibits her connections to the mystical, with details such as the huge, dangling necklaces, the bandana, and the huge ruby on her bellybutton. similar to Muggshot, her motives stem from being bullied and not fitting in and she gets some sympathy points for that... i think. Sly, on the other hand, is nearly at the end of his phase of naiveté. we get the sense that Vicious Voodoo is perhaps too much fun for him. the exhilarating experience of being chased by a huge swamp snake, suicide-bombing roosters, rat ghosts and hungry piranhas results in Sly adopting a very stern tone when finally confronting Mz Ruby. whereas the raccoon tends to be ironic and mock his rivals before the bossfight begins, i felt as if he was being very impatient and serious with the alligator witch. this “frustration” will soon manifest in Fire in the Sky.

Themes: i’m not sure about this one. i don’t want to be basic and say that this is the spooky level but horror is definitely the overarching “mood” and then there’s some themes under that umbrella. the first thing that comes to mind is life and death. death because of the ghosts, zombies, the impending doom, getting your blood sucked by giant mosquitos, y’know. Mz Ruby’s scheme revolves around raising the dead so Sly is in pretty unfamiliar territory (we’ll circle back to that point when discussing the Contessa episodes and the Mask of Dark Earth). as for the life aspect, it has to do with the zombies Mz Ruby is supposedly conjuring - the idea of resurrection and all that. it’s not really explored but it opposes all the death in the episode. the only other thing i can think of is speed as a theme. the missions are thrilling, to say the least. Down Home Cooking and Piranha Lake suffocate the player with intense gameplay, whereas The Lair of the Beast is a nightmare for anyone with even slight anxiety. however, speed doesn’t necessarily mean fast. the rest of the levels strike a nice balance between fast and slow pacing. in Descent Into Danger, we make our way to the top of the hub in a very stealthy way just to then rigorously slide into a waterfall of bones. prior to Lair of the Beast’s climax, the build-up is very cleverly executed as it feels lengthy and gradual. even in the hub things seem to be comparatively chill, and then the swamp snake pops out of its lair to open the gates, or you get blasted by a manhole cover. there’s also a satanic undertone worth commenting on, as seen by the gate in The Dread Swamp Path, which is the skull of a ram with huge bat wings. yeah...

What I Like: Mz Ruby, obviously. the dialogue, the bossfight, the voice acting: the whole thing. she’s amazing. other than that,  favourite detail would have to be the fact that your controller vibrates when Sly’s feet are touching the water in The Lair of the Beast. gives me the chills even after 18 fucking years.

What I Don’t Like: i think there’s too much variation in gameplay here. i’d like to have a bit more fun exploring the swamps. i love Down Home Cooking, but you also have the hover blaster and the swamp skiff gameplay. i mean, we get a pretty decent amount of standard platforming, but after the Mesa levels’ gameplay variation i wish we could get more from the swamps, because of the rich world building.

Quote: literally everything that comes out of Mz Ruby’s mouth. everything. from most distastefully bad juju to the way she says Chumley.

[jungshookz]

ceo!yoongi

→ pairing: min yoongi x reader 

→ genre: ceo!au, clumsy!y/n because that’s always nice, jimin is ur best friend, floofy fluff, a touch of nsfw aka office sex

→ wordcount: 21k+ so u should probably read this using ur laptop and not ur phone

→ note: inspired by my love for an intimidating yoongi in suits 

(gif isn’t mine!) 

(((and the read more function iS there so if it doesn’t work for some reason i am sorry don’t attack me))) 

“shit, shit, shit, fuck- ow, shit- fUCK”

you scramble around your apartment shoving things into your purse while simultaneously dressing yourself

out of all the days to wake up late

why did todAY have to be one of them???

you have your house keys dangling from your mouth while you wiggle into a pair of jeans aNd your phone is sandwiched in between your shoulder and your ear

“the new boss is going to be here any minute now, where the hell are you??”

“obviously i slept through my goddamn alarm, jimin! i- yes, i’ll be there in like… five minutes. i’m on the bus already”

that was an obvious lie because you’re still trying to find a decent shirt to wear

you end up going with a polka-dotted button blouse

“you better hurry, i hear this guy’s a bit of a hard ass. apparently he fired someone who was only two minutes late to-“

“you’re freaking me out, jimin!!!! look, it’s fine he’s probably just going to introduce himself and then hole himself up in his office so he won’t even notice that i’m late”

your own words reassure you and you slow down to take your time in choosing a pair of shoes

“okay, yeah but you’re his secretary, y/n. i think he’ll notice if his own damn secretary isn’T THERE”

…..he has a fair point

“if you don’t get here in the next ten minutes dinner’s on you tonight” the call clicks off and all you hear is the dial tone

by the time you get to the office it’s 9:23 so you’re officially 23 minutes late BUT you made a stop by the starbucks across the street to grab a soy latte for the new boss

the old boss (mr lin - he was pretty chill but he was alSo pretty old so that explains why the company decided to let him go) would forgive you immediately when you presented a soy latte and a muffin to him

you were sure you’d be fine

“ooh, hold the lift, hold the lift!!!!!” you slip right into the lift right as the doors are about to shut and you let out a sigh of relief because you didN’t spill the coffee thank god

“hey, morning” you turn to give a nod of acknowledgement to the (handsome, very very handsome) stranger standing next to you

he’s dressed in a crisp suit and he’s currently scrolling through his phone but he looks up at you and kind of looks you over before humming in response

his raven black hair looks awfully soft and it’s perfectly styled

and whatever his cologne is…. you’re digging it because he smells goOd

you look up at the little screen telling you that you’re only on the eighteenth floor

the office is on the fifty-second floor and this lift is literally as slow as a snail

you then notice that the stranger is also going to the fifty-second floor

huh

a new co-worker!!

so either you wait in awkward silence with this hot stranger or you try to stir up some conversation

“y’know, i hear the new boss is a bit of a prick.” you snort, glancing over at the stranger. he tenses and his eyes leave his phone but he doesn’t turn

“oh, really? interesting” he shifts and tightens his grip on the folders he’s holding

“mm. and i’m his new secretary so hopefully he doesn’t chew me out for being-“ you look down at your watch “28 minutes late”

“his name’s yoongi. min yoongi. even his name sounds snooty, am i right?” you snort, glancing over again and just tryIng to get some kind of a reaction out of this emotionless person “are you, uh, are you new here?”

usually you’re like super charming but it doesn’t seem to be working on this guy

you glance up at the screen again and let out a breath of relief because you’re approaching the fifty-second floor

“it’s not good to be late, but i admit i’m a little behind on schedule as well. and yes, i’m new.”

“we better hurry otherwise mr min’ll have both our heads on sticks!”

“are you late because you stopped to get a coffee and food?” he raises an eyebrow and looks down at the starbucks cup

“hm? oh, well, kinda. it’s more like an apology drink and a chocolate chip muffin for the boss.” you raise the cup and the paper bag slightly “everyone loves muffins”

the elevator dings and the two of you look up

the doors open and you’re surprised to see… what looks like every single employee just standing in front of the doors

the stranger takes a step out but turns around quickly to face you and you’re kind of like ??

“i’d suggest doing a little more research next time, secretary. i’m not a muffin person.” and then he’s walking out and everyone’s bowing respectfully to him as he introduces himself

it doesn’t hit you until the doors slowly begin to close again and the last thing you see is jimin looking at you with so much pity in his eyes

“you’ve got to be kidding me.”

THAT WAS YOUR BOSS

THAT WAS MIN YOONGI AND YOU TOTALLY JUST

you would be so happy if in this moment the elevator just broke down and sent you hurdling down fifty two floors to your DEATH

you freeze when the doors slide open again but thankfully it’s just jimin standing there

“hey buddy” he approaches you slowly as if you were a ticking time bomb 

“hi”

“….so you met mr min i see”

“mhm”

“and i’m guessing u didn’t know that was mr min”

“yes”

“and i’m guessing u tried to strike up a conversation abouT mr min tO mr min”

“indeed”

jimin has to drag you out of the elevator and you’re as still as a statue as he fixes the collar on your blouse and makes sure your employee lanyard is straightened up

“i wouldn’t have gone with this blouse but i suppose this is presentable enough” jimin gestures towards the long hallway leading to yoongi’s office doors (with your cute little station set up by the doors) before he’s giving you a pat on the shoulder and heading back to his cubicle

you know that scene from the shining

the shot where it’s like a long, long hallway and there are those two creepy twins at the end

this is like that except instead of twins you have your new terrifying new boss’ office

you set your bag down on your chair before turning to the doors

you clear your throat a couple times and look down at the latte and the muffin sitting on your desk

maybe he’ll like the latte

so you pick it back up and you give yourself until the count of three

and then you’re knocking on his door and you hear a muffled ’come in’

you take a second to think over what the hell you’re going to say to him

“mr min i am sO sorry i swear i wasn’t trying to offend you i was just trying to be funny because i thought you-“

and just when you thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse

things get worse

because yoongi just so happened to be standing right by the door as you opened it and of COURSE you knock into him causing the lid to pop off the cup and now the two of you are covered in latte but it’s more you than him thanK god

your face is so red you’re sure you’re going to explode

you don’t even know what to say at this point

“i am……. so-“

“sorry? yeah, i’m seeing a main theme here with you.” yoongi scowls and shakes some coffee off his hand before looking down at his stained louis vuitton button up

this was new but it’s okay because he has 10 ten more in his closet

“i’ll pay for the dry cleaning?” is all you can squeak out because you are just so horrified

yoongi rolls his eyes discreetly while he’s patting himself down with his silk handkerchief

what the hell is wrong with you??? you’re not usually this clumsy and you’re sure you’re like 1 more sorry away from getting fired

“can you just send me my schedule for today?” he sighs as he heads back towards his desk “i’m sure it’s easy enough for you to handle” he mutters condescendingly and you know what you totally deserve that comment so you’re fine with it

“yessir” you don’t even bother asking if he actually wanted a coffee or not because you just want to get out of his fiery gaze

surprisingly the rest of the morning goes by pretty smoothly

he came out of the office wearing a new crisp shirt and you were like dAng this guy’s prepared for any situation

unlike you

because you’re sitting here with your cardigan buttoned all the way up to hide the stain

you keep a smile on your face whenever yoongi passes your desk to head back to his office but after you hear his door shut the smile drops and you always let out a breath of relief

he’s just so…. scary

and he’s your age too

if he was a co worker instead of your boss you were 100% sure the two of you wouldn’t get along at all

and you get along with almost EVERYONE

you’ve never been happier when your phone goes off and tells you it’s your lunch break because you just want to rant to jimin and

“turkey sandwich on whole wheat. lettuce, red onions, avocado, chipotle mayo. the place is called the sandwich station. it’s a block or two down. i’d like a green juice to go with it as well- hold the cucumber. they know my order. you can just tell them it’s for me.”

what the

yoongi literally just materialised out of nowhere

“….i’m sorry?”

yoongi clenches his jaw and you want to CRY

“it’s noon. meaning it’s lunch time. meaning i want my lunch.”

the old boss never made you go out to get a fancy sandwich for him

there’s a canteen here for a reason

they’re serving spinach and potato curry today!!!!!!!! which is your favourite!!!!!! and your lunch breaks are only an hour long and by the time you get back the curry will be gone but maybe you can ask jimin to save you a bite

“is there a problem?”

“no! no sir.” you shake your head quickly and get up from your seat “but, um, just to let you know we do have a canteen here if you ever- okay, yep, i’m going”

jimin’s standing by the lift when you get there and he’s like why did you press the down button the canteen is Up you dummy

and you’re like mr min wants a fancy sandwich and a green juice what kind of sane person likes green juice???

jimin promises he’ll save you a bite of the curry as long as you make it back in time aka fifteen minutes before he inhales it all

you say goodbye to each other in the form of air kisses as you walk into separate lifts

so now you’re sprinting down the sidewalk trying to find this damn sandwich place that isn’t one or two blocks away it’s like TWENTY minutes away according to google maps

you would’ve worn a sports bra today if you’d have known you’d be running

by the time you finally make it there you’re all sweaty and red and you can barely speak

“h..hi, a sandwich and a green juice thing for, um, mr min yoongi??” you look at the notes you scribbled down on your palm even though all the words are smudged from your hand sweat “it’s turkey on whole-“

“for yoongi??? coming right up!!!!” the girl at the counter seems a little too enthusiastic to be making a sandwich and a juice for him….. and she’s on a first name basis with him….

but whatever at least she’s being speedy about it

you check the time on your watch

jimin’s probably already eaten everything

your lunch break ends in half an hour and it’ll take you 20 minutes to head back so that leaves you with like ten minutes

maybe you can get a sandwich from here

you look up at the- oH NO way you are not paying tHAT much for a sandwich

this place is bougie

certainly not for someone with your budget

maybe there’s like a hot dog cart nearby

a hot dog sounds good

“here you go! tell him i said hi. i’m lisa, by the way.” she smiles and you give her a smile back as you take the bag from her

you kind of pause to think and you’re like hMm what do you meAn tell him i said hi,,,,,,

does yoongi have a secret sandwich lover

you don’t have time to think because you are reminded that you are running out of damn time

“thanks for being so fast, lisa. uh, here you go. this should cover it.” you throw the bills that yoongi gave you on the counter before you’re zipping out the door and beginning your little jog back

you feel your phone buzz in your pocket and you already know it’s yoongi wondering where the hell you are

you make it back in tEn minutes thank god but your feet are killing you and you’re sure your blouse is drenched in sweat by now

as you’re walking briskly down the hallway you pick up your pace when you see yoongi standing outside his office and leaning against the frame of the door

“what took you so long??”

“i-“

“there’s no excuse” yoongi snatches the bag from you and shuts the door in your face

you can already hear the chatter of people returning from their lunch breaks

aHHHH

your stomach grumbles and it’s your body’s way of reminding you that HEY quit neglecting M E

maybe you should have splurged on a fancy sandwich

you huff and plop down on your seat

now you’re just hangry and the next person who talks to you will FEEL YOUR FIERY WRATH

“by the way- reschedule my meeting with mr kim to next wednesday. he couldn’t make it today.” yoongi opens his door again and takes a sip of his obnoxious green juice

you spin around in your chair

immediately your lips tug up in a bright smile

“yes sir. i’d love to do that for you.” yoongi looks at you weirdly before he disappears into his room again

wow

where was that fiery wrath

that wrath could barely light up a birthday candle sis

about twenty minutes go by and you actually feel like you’re dying because you’re honestly starving so you decide to text jimin and tell him to sneak some food to you

you technically could just get up and go to the vending machine yourself but yoongi could pop out of his office at any minute and if he sees that you’re not at your desk he’ll definitely have your head

so it’s too risky

to: chimchim - be a pal and bring me a bag of chips or something from the vending machine

jimin jumps when his phone vibrates loudly against his desk and he apologises to his fellow cubicle mates before checking the notification

he can’t help but snort after he reads your message

to: y/n - i’m busy! get it yourself

he’s not surprised that you reply almost immediately

from: y/n - too risky!!!! plus you’re closer to the vending machine

from: y/n - just pretend like you need to print something you can come and use ~my~ personal printer

to: y/n - why would i walk across the floor to use your tiny ass printer

from: y/n - PLEASE i am so hungry i will take care of the laundry this week just get me something to eat before my body starts eating itself

jimin immediately gets up from his seat and heads right to the vending machine

he hates doing the laundry

you want to cry tears of joy when you see jimin’s blonde head bobbing down the hallway from where you’re sitting

“don’t accidentally turn all our white sheets pink agaIN” he teases and he tosses you the bag of chips that you open greedily

he’s munching on an apple himself

he’s always been the healthier one out of the two of you

“how’s the boss?”

you’re immediately triggered

“omg i had to go to this dumb fancy sandwich place and pick up an overpriced turkey club and a green juice for him and then one of the sandwich workers was like obViously wanting me to say hi to mr min for her and i was like ?? what do i look like a messenger pigeon or something” you snort and shove a handful of chips into your mouth unattractively 

“and ALSO he totally got mad at me when i got back because i took too long but it’s not my fault your dumb sandwich place is like a million miles away and another ALSO i’m walking in HEELS-”

“you should invest in a pair of flats, perhaps”

wow

there’s something else to add to your already shitty first impression

you swallow thickly when you realise jimin didn’t say that

you turn around slowly in your chair and you’re met with the intimidating gaze of yoongi

….R U KIDDING

why do bad things happen to good people???

yoongi tosses his trash into the bin sitting by your desk before he’s looking up at a terrified jimin

“is there a reason why you’re here, mr park?”

“…i needed to print something” he swallows his bite of apple and hides it behind his back

“do you not have a printer on your side?”

“it was jammed, sir.” 

“what are you printing?”

jimin blanks and all that comes out of his mouth is

“contra..ct. sir.”

“what contract?”

“this one!! this one” you grab a random sheet of paper of your desk and stand up and shove it into jimin’s chest

“yep, this one! i’ll be on my way, thanks for letting me use your printer y/n!” jimin practically rockets down the hallway to head back to his desk

dang

he barely made it out of there alive

he’s never doing that again

there’s a silence between you and yoongi for a couple seconds as the two of you watch jimin bolt away

you turn around a little to face him with a sheepish smile and you wobble slightly on your heels

“can i trust you to be more responsible and do your work instead of complaining to your friend about your awful boss?”

you open your mouth to reply but you dip your head down in shame

yah

you deserve that one

“sorry, sir” you murmur under your breath and you don’t want to look at yoongi because if you do you’ll definitely burst into tears

and your face is sO hot

you look up when you hear the click of yoongi’s door shutting and you let out a breath before sitting down

okay

time to actually work

you’ll find a way to make it up to yoongi

hopefully

the next morning you make sure to set your alarm like an hour earlier than you usually wake up because this day has to go PERFEctly otherwise you will literally stab your eyeball out with a letter opener

yesterday night you already set up yoongi’s schedule for today so that when he wakes up and checks his calendar he’ll know exactly what’s going on

you even memorised his schedule

he has 2 conference calls in the morning (one starts at 8:30 and the other at 10:15) and 2 meetings in the afternoon (one starts at 1:45 and the other at 4:30)

you just want to prove to him that you’re not a total disaster and you’re capable of handling this job

and you made sure to dress yourself up a little more ~professionally~ although it pained you to leave your skinny jeans aside and slip into a pencil skirt instead

you hATe pencil skirts

they’re so tight and after you eat lunch you always feel like your tummy is going to buSt out

so yes you’re wearing a nice white button up long sleeved shirt tucked into a black pencil skirt along with a pair of shiny black heels that you polished last night

you also spray on some perfume and put a little more effort into your makeup

because,,,,, it’s no secret that min yoongi is an attractive man

ahem

you just want to look more presentable!!!

you texted jimin last night and asked if he wanted to get to work early this morning and he was just like lmao who do u think i am

so you pass by his apartment door and stick a note on the front that just says ‘good morning - see you at work!!’

it’s about a twenty ish minute walk and you’re definitely regretting choosing a pair of stiLETTOs to wear

so you take them off and proceed to walk comfortably to starbucks to get yourself and yoongi a coffee

you’re about to ask for a muffin but then you remember that he doEsn’T liKE muFfInS so you stick with a black coffee for him and a caramel macchiato for yourself

of course you’re hungry so you get a bagel for yourself with extrA cinnamon cream cheese

after you get everything you head on over to the building and greet the security guards good morning and they’re all pretty surprised because you’re never here,, so early

your heels click clacking on the marble floor is the only thing that’s heard as you make your way down the hallway to your desk

you check the time on your watch and you’re satisfied with yourself because you still have about thirty minutes until work starts

and you lean back against your chair and you give yourself a mental high five because uMMM,,, you’re kiLLING it and it’s not even 8am yet

you look around and

wow it’s quiet

you can hear the bustling of the city from outside and it’s oddly very calming

you kind of want to fall asleep

plus that bagel really filled u up and you always get sleepy after a good meal

uh oh

okay

look

maybe you can take like

a five minute nap

you deserve it!

you can re energize yourself and then you’ll be even more efficient today

you rest your head on your folded arms and shut your eyes

yeah

five minutes

“good morning, sir”

“morning, mr min!”

“good morning, sir!!”

click

clack

click

clack

your eyes open and your vision adjusts to youryou shoot up from your desk and wipe the drool off the side of your mouth and stand up from your chair immediately

and you glance down at your laptop and see that you didn't take a five minute snooze you took a FORTY minute snooze

thank god you're a light-ish sleeper otherwise yoongi's shoes echoing down the hallway would definitely not have woken you up and he would’ve caught you sleePING

you look up to see yoongi walking down the hallway looking at his phone

so you quickly fix your hair and straighten yourself up

“good morning sir” you clear your throat to get the raspy sleepiness out of your voice and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear

he walks past you and goes straight into his office and you’re about to sit down but then you remember you have a coFfee for him

so you knock on his door clutching his now lukewarm coffee

“i have a coffee here for you, boss” you walk over to his desk and place the cup on his desk

“one cream one sugar?”

uh oh

this coffee is black

“….i will be… right back” and you pick up the coffee and walk out of his room calmly

once you shut the door behind you you’re immEDIATELy zipping down the hallway to the break room

this coffee isn’t even lukewarm anymore now it’s just cold sad coffee

daMN it

it was stupid to buy a coffee forty minutes beforehand

and you can just make coffee here!!!! you dingus!!!!!

so you dump out the coffee and you see namjoon about to pour himself a cup but you slip over and you’re like namjoon sweetie hi good morning can i take that i am sO sorry

and you take the pot from him and refill yoongi’s cup

he just blinks at you because you hand him back an empty coffee pot

“it’s for the big guy you know how it is” and you reach past him to get the cream and a sugar cube and you plop it in and give it a stir

and you pop the lid back on and you’re like thanks joon i owe you big time!! and honestly you were moving so fast namjoon's not even sure what just happened

so you’re practically sprinting down the hall in stilettos back to yoongi’s office and you spot jimin walking out of the lift as you past by and you manage to say goOD morning buddy!!! but all he sees is like a blur and he rubs his eyes

when you get back to the office you’re panting a little but you calm your breaths as you set the coffee down

“one cream one sugar, boss” and you straighten your blouse and clear your throat

yoongi types something out on his phone and blindly reaches for the coffee cup and you gently nudge it towards his hand

he takes a sip and then looks up from his phone and gets his first glance at you for the day and

yoongi chokES on his coffee and quickly sets it down

holy shit

you don’t even look like the same y/n as yesterday

“oh shoot- do you need a napkin?? i’ll get a napkin hold on” and you shuffle out of the room and yoongi isn’t usually like this but he can’t help but let his eyes flicker down because dAmn you look good in that skirt

he thought you looked cute yesterday with your polka dotted blouse and your jeans but today you look so

sexy

god damn

okay

he needs to chill

you’re his secretary

he’s your boss

even more you’re his KLUtzY secretary who spilled coffee all over his shirt and talked smack about him

“…sir?” he snaps himself out of it and looks up and you’re standing over him holding a napkin

he thanks you quietly and takes it from you and dabs at his mouth

okay woO

keep it professional yoongi

“you've got a conference call in twenty minutes. i put everything in your calendar and it should alert you five minutes beforehand but in case it doesn't i'll come in and remind you. i filed the contracts you asked me to sort out yestreday everything's colour coded and also arrange alphabetically so it should be easier to find next time."

yoongi blinks up at you because... what happened to the y/n he met yesterday

“right. yes. good. okay." yoongi swallows thickly when he sees you suck your bottom lip in between your teeth which seems to be a nervous habit of yours "that's all i need from you then. you can go now."

you nod happily and see yourself out

this is a good start 

things are going to be greAT from here

:-) 

so

it’s been about two weeks since yoongi took over the company

and all you have to say is

you want to jump out the window

you want to jump off the fifty second floor of this building because yoongi is working you like a dog

which is something that you obviously aren’t accustomed to because the most rigorous thing you had to do for your old boss was to walk across the floor and get him a snack from the vending machine

but yoongi doesn’t do vending machine snacks because it’s appArently all trans fats

he mentioned it to you when you were scarfing down a little packet of cookies because of course you didn’t have time to get lunch for yourself because you were getting his stupid fancy sandwich like a million miles away

and you were like :) and threw it away and he nodded satisfactorily and then went into his office

and you bent down and picked the packet back up and threw the rest of the mini cookies into your mouth

he’s your boss not your dad

he can’t control your diet!!

omg

you’re so physically and mentally drained

you feel like a husk

your soul left your body the moment you met yoongi and it hasn’t returned ever since

you usually like being a secretary because you like organising things and colour coding things and going like ‘i’m so sorry- mr min will have to call you back’ and slamming the phone down because it makes you feel ~powerful~

but damn

you wish you had applied for an office job like jimin

he works in human resources

you would probably be really good in like finances or some other section like that

of course jimin isn’t paid as much as you’re paid so there’s that

you do want to continue having a roof over your head and food in your tummy so

you grin and bear it

to make a long story short

you strongly dislike yoongi and you’re pretty sure he hates you

here are some more things that have happened in the last two weeks

yoongi told you to photocopy 50 copies of a contract

of course you said yes and you went ahead to your little copying machine and made 50 copies

and when you went back and handed him the copies he looked at them and blinked and then looked at you and he was like this isn't the contract i asked you to copy

and you were like ?? you hANded me the contract

“this isn't the right contract”

“i-???”

“you were supposed to copy this one” and he hands you a DIFFERENT CONTRACT

so you end up shredding 50 sheets of paper and you make a brand new 50 copies and when you give the new ones to yoongi he’s like what took you so damn long??

and you were like

YOU, YOU BITCH

YOU TOOK ME SO DAMN LONG

you wanted to SCREAM

and another time

yoongi was about to go into a meeting but before that he told you that as soon as mr kim calls for him you should tell yoongi immediately

and your concern was that mr kim would call during the meeting and you would have to interrupt the meeting which is noT what you want to do but before you can voice your concern yoongi's like okay peace out i'm leaving now

and of course because the universe is against you

mr kim called during the meeting

so you knocked on the door and opened it and there are like 15 businesspeople just staring at you blankly and yoongi's staring at you blankly at the front of the desk

“sir, um, mr kim called"

and he nods and waves you away so you shut the door

after the meeting ends yoongi literally goes like

you shouldn't interrupt another meeting like that again

and you said that you only did it because yOOngi said to tell him as SOON as mr kim called

“hm. i don't recall telling you that."

you had your hands balled into fists so tightly that your knuckles were starting to get white but of coURse all you say is

“you're right, sir. it was my bad. it won't happen again."

“it better not."

and aNOTHER THING

LISA

lisa the sandwich girl

it's like she's expecting you to hook her up with yoongi

everytime you go into the shop she hands you yoongi's lunch and is always like :) tell :) yoongi :) i :) said :) hi :) and you’re like :) let :) go :) of :) the :) bag :) i :) need :) to :) leave :)

and because lisa is the last thing you're concerned about you never tell yoongi she says hi but you don't need to because lately she's been writing notes on the paper bag like ‘i was going to write a pun about a sandwich but i was afraid you’d find it stALe’

when you read that you were like ?? what does that mean are you saying the bread you used in his sandwich today is stale

one time you decided you'd splurge so you treated yourself to a sandwich from there made by lisa herself

it was,,, the worst sandwich you've ever had in your entire life

the bread was barely toasted

there was like 3 pounds of mayo in there

she was skimpy on the turkey

she placed the tomatoes on the bottom making the bread all soggy

yoongi must really REALLY want to get into lisa's pants if he can continue eating this shit without gagging

the conclusion here is that you hate lisa’s sandwiches but not as much as you hate yoongi

:) and you’re allowed to say that because you’re only saying it to yourself and it doesn’t count if no one else knows about your feelings :)

“we’re going to have sO much fun tonight it’s literally been a century since we last got to go to a club and get wasted!!!!! i even bought a brand new shirt for the occasion.” jimin grins and takes a sip of his juice and you nod excitedly

“i’m so ready to get shit faced let me tell you mr min honestly wants to make me rip my-“

“miss y/l/n.” both you and jimin turn when you hear your name and you’re surprised to see yoongi standing there

why’s he in the canteen he’s never in the canteen

“mr min, what.. can i help you with?” you clear your throat and turn yourself around a little more to face him

“i need you to stay late tonight to reorganise some files that your old boss kept tucked away in the drawers. it’s frankly a mess in there.” you don’t even get a chance to respond before yoongi takes a bite of an apple and strolls away casually

wait what

he can’t just

okay technically he can do that because he’s your boss but

not tonight!!! 

“mr min i don’t-“ you stand up quickly to chase him and he whips around and raises an eyebrow

“is there something wrong?”

yes there’s something wrong

you have plans tonight!!!!!!!!!

you’re going dancing and you’re going to down shots like there’s no tomorrow and you’re going to wake up tomorrow morning with a hangover like never before so yEs there’s something wrong

“…i don’t know if you wanted me to colour code them or arrange them alphabetically.” you breathe out and you feel your soul leave your body

your first night out in weeks and now you have to stay late and arrange dusty old files

“both.”

“of course, sir.”

“i’ll be here to keep you company you can get ‘shit-faced’ another time.”

you’re pretty sure you’re going to burst into tears when you see jimin and a couple other co-workers seemingly having a bLast at the new club downtown from his snapchat story

you let out a grunt as you get up from your knees

you’ve been organising these damn files for like two hours

yoongi was done with his phone call like half an hour ago and then he said he was going to get some food

your stomach grumbles at the thought of food

you h8 your boss with a burning passion

another twenty minutes pass and you’ve never been so relieved in your life when you finALLY are finished with the files

it only took like 30 years to dust things off and then colour code them and then re label them and then arrange them alphabetically

“good job, y/l/n” you give yourself a pat on the back and then plop down on yoongi’s cushy office chair

wow you feel powerful just sitting here

it only takes a second for you to start spinning the chair in circles because this is literally your only form of entertainment for the night

“if you break my chair it’s coming out of your paycheque.” you stop spinning immediately when yoongi seemingly appears out of nowhere

you’re about to apologise profusely and get up but from the way yoongi tilts his head and offers you the smallest of smirks you know you’re not in trouble

“i wasn’t going to break it.” you grumble and you’re about to get off his chair and let him sit but he sits across from you instead

you’re in the boss’ chair and he’s not

how the tables have turned,,,,,,,,

“here. eat. the only place open at this hour was mcdonald’s.”

“you bought dinner for me?”

yoongi plops a paper bag on the desk and your mouth waters when he pulls out a big mac and an order of large fries

“oh gosh, boss. you didn’t have to go all out for lil ol me” yoongi can’t help but smile before he shakes his head and pulls out a miLKSHAKE

“a vanilla milkshake? i thought you weren’t into sugar.”

“it’s for you. i know how much you love anything that rots your teeth.”

oh

that’s like

oddly sweet

but also kind of insulting

but still sweet in his own way

“i also bought a couple beers if you’re interested you won’t get shit-faced like you wanted to but you’ll get a little buzzed.” he pulls a niNE pack of beers out of the bag and cracks one open for himself

at first the meal is kind of awkward

the two of you are kind of just sitting there in silence eating food and drinking

but yoongi breaks the silence when he sees you dip a french fry into your milkshake

what

the

what the fuk

u so nasty

“that’s disgusting.”

“don’t knock it til you try it!” when yoongi opens his mouth to give you another snarky comment you shove a milkshake dipped fry into his mouth

he chews thoughtfully and then swallows

“what do you think?”

it’s sweet

and it’s salty

at the same time

somehow this disgusting combination works

“it’s… it’s okay, but it’s still disgusting.” yoongi mutters and takes a swig of his beer “here, i can’t finish all of these on my own.” he hands you a can of beer and you crack it open

the two of you spend the next hour eating and drinking

halfway through eating your milkshake became yours and yoongi’s milkshake

yoongi’s really enjoying your french fry hack in case that wasn’t clear

you’re really enjoying this beer it’s surprisingly good quality coming from the corner store

“i’m serious! i turned all the white sheets pink because of one red sock and jimin didn’t talk to me for a whole week because the two of us had to come to work wearing matching pink button-ups.” yoongi throws his head back in laughter and you suppress your own laughter by taking another sip of beer

the alcohol coursing through your veins is making you become a little more talkative than usual

“i have a question for you, boss”

“shoot”

“why do you hate me?” you push your bottom lip out in a pout and yoongi looks up at you in surprise as he wipes his hands off on a napkin

“where did you get that idea?”

“because you-“ hiccup “because you’re always so mean to me! like i know i didn’t have a great first impression but you knOw i’ve already apologised like a triLLion times for what i said and you also know i only say things to be funny but you’Re such a meanie-bobeenie sometimes it makes me wonder what the hell i’m supposed to do to make you-“

“y/n, i don’t hate you. i’m just-“ yoongi pauses to think “i’m just like that.”

why was he so mean to you all the time? he didn’t have a particular reason

maybe it’s like that thing where when kids have crushes on each other they’re mean to their crush instead of

wa,,,,,,aaaaaait a second,,,,,

yoongi has to admit he’s taken an iNKLing of an interest in you since your first meeting but it’s not serious or anything

like yes you’re attractive and you’re his type but,.,.,.,.,. ya you’re just his secretary it’s not a big deal he doesn’t like you like that

right

right???

“it’s, uh, it’s getting late - we should probably head home.” yoongi clears his throat and begins cleaning up the wrappers and napkins and ketchup packets

“thanks for treating me to an extravagant meal tonight, mr min. you really didn’t have to.” the two of you step onto the lift and you hit the ground floor level for yourself and the parking lot level for yoongi

“trust me, i did. i know how upset you were about not getting to go out with mr park and the others… and fast food makes everyone feel better. by the way - it’s after-hours. you can call me yoongi - mr min makes me feel like i’ve aged 50 years.” he nudges you playfully and you’re like i should get yoongi to drink more beers if he acts like this from it

and then ur like o wait that’s call alcoholism so maybe not

“touché.” the elevator dings and you look up “this is me! i’ll see you in the morning then, boss.”

before you get off the lift yoongi stops you

“sorry if i’ve been, um, a little hard on you since i started working here. you’re responsible and you’re hardworking i’m glad to have you as my secretary, y/n, even if i don’t show it sometimes. i promise i’ll try to be less of a… as you said, a meanie-bobeenie.”

that was,, unexpected

but aw!!!!

that’s nice of him to say

your lips tug up in a bright smile

“i’ll see you in the morning… yoongi.”you step out of the lift and you wave at yoongi as the doors shut

waking up in the morning for work feels a lot better now that you know yoongi doesn’t actually hate you

although your slight hangover doesn’t feel that great

you keep your sunglasses on when you walk into the office with yoongi’s coffee

and when you knock on his door and enter his office to see him also wearing his sunglasses you can’t help but laugh

“you’re having black coffee today, it’ll wake you up.”

“please tell me i don’t have any meetings today because i feel like death.” yoongi’s voice is all low and raspy and in ur head you’re like [h o ly shit that’s hot]

“i hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you have two. your first one is in ten minutes. and i suggest taking your sunglasses off before you head in there.”

yoongi groans and slams his head down on his desk

the next couple of weeks go by pretty smoothly

aside from like one or two-ish slip ups

“y/n?”

“yes, sir?” you’re about to leave his office after giving him his morning coffee

you were almost late but after you took your heels off in the middle of the street and sprinted back to the office you made it right on time

the downside of getting there on timE is the fact that in your rush you literally forgot to pick up yoongi’s cup of coffee that was SITTING ON THE COUNTER neXT to youRS YOU IDIOT

luckily you picked up a little trick

in case something like this happened, you always bought two cups of the same coffee

like if you spill one cup it’s fine because you still have the other

but in this case you only have one cup

and this is your cup

and it says ‘call me sometime :-) -jungkook’

jungkook is the cute new barista that started working at your starbucks like three weeks ago?? he usually has the morning shift

and yeah you’ve been having fun like,,, flirting with him

because he’s an attractive guy

chestnut brown hair

cute round eyes

adorable smile

and he’s very very verY charming

so SUE you if you’re having a good time!!!! (although you’re like low key leading him on so you better cut it out soon)

but it seems that today was the day that jungkook decided he’d finally make a move

because when yoongi turns his coffee cup and points to the note

you’re like ….:) shit :)

“who is jungkook, and why does he want me to call him?”

“…business proposal?”

“and his form of communication is via paper coffee cups?”

“kids are getting super creative nowadays, boss”

“mm, okay.” yoongi takes a sip of his coffee and lets out a small sigh “you sure this wasn’t your cup?”

“nope. i need at least like five pounds of sugar and creamer in my coffee.” you laugh awkwardly and back up towards to the door “i wouldn’t get the same cup of coffee as you in case… something happened… oH is that my phone ringing pardon me!!” and you slam the door and plop down on your seat and let out a breath

yoongi smiles to himself and shakes his head

but he’s definitely going to need to call this jungkook and tell him to back off

yoongi’s definitely warming up to you

after one of his meetings he passed by your desk and placed a pack of those mini chocolate chip cookies from the vending machine in front of you and you were like gASP a GIFT

“what’s this for??”

“for actually getting to work on time two weeks in a row. keep it up and i might just treat you to a chocolate bar, too.”

one day as you’re coming back from your lunch break you see yoongi at your desk huffing and grumbling to himself

“mr min?” he looks up at you and then looks back down “what are you-“

“i’m trying to photocopy this contract but your stupid printer won’t-“ he pauses to smack the side of it and you gasp in shock because he just whacked your bABY “won’t work!! i think we need to get you a new one.” he scowls and scratches the top of his head

you roll your eyes before gesturing for him to scoot and then bending down to check out how much damage he’s done (somehow he created a small paper jam)

“it’s my printer and it only responds to my magic touch.” you punch a couple buttons on the thing and it sputters for a second before a fresh photocopy comes out the slit “here you go, boss!” you hand yoongi the sheet and he’s like i could’ve done it myself ur printer is just weird and you’re like mMMmm

you sit down on your seat and yoongi’s about to head into his office before

“by the way - i’m going on a date tonight, with lisa. can you jot that down in my schedule? the dinner reservation is at 6.”

“date with lisa at 6” you reply almost immediately and begin typing it out onto his schedule

wait

what

he’s going out on a date?

your heart immediately drops to your stomach

all you typed in was date with lis and you’re getting up and stumbling into his office

you wrap your fingers around the frame of the door and peek in

“boss?”

“mhm” he doesn’t look up at you and you swallow nervously

“what,,, what do u mean you’re going out on a date”

yoongi looks up at you and is like ?

“it’s pretty self explanatory… have you never been on one?”

your cheeks flame up and you’re like “of couRSE i’ve been on one i just-“ you stop yourself and press your lips together because what exactly are you going to say to yoongi

oH i just thought maybe i had a shot with you because we’ve been spending so much time together lately and we’ve gotten preTTy close and i think nO i'm pretty sure i have a teensy weensy crush on you sir but enjoy your date!!!!!

you scratch the back of your neck awkwardly and feel your cheeks flame up at the fact that you…. definitely have feelings for ur boss

but he has feelings for someone else

ouch

“i just… wanted to remind you that you have a skype conference at 10 tonight. i, um, i’ll be working late so if you need help during the conference you know where to find me and stuff. uh, yeah. that’s it.”

“okay. what time is it?”

you peer down at your watch

“5:20. you should probably get going in the next 20 minutes so you won’t lose your reservation”

“mm.”

there’s a moment of silence and you take that as a hint to leave

“y/n, wait.” yoongi lets out a breath and he stops sorting through the papers on his desk

you spin around on your heels and you’re like yes???

“if i’m not back by 9:30 give me a call to remind me about the meeting.”

“yes, sir.” you sigh and shut the door

yoongi frowns once you leave

it'll be fine

he's going to have a great time with lisa

yeah

your chair squeaks under you as you plop down on it and lean back and look up at the ceiling

wow

well

you feel pathetic

what were you thinking?

of course he’s not interested in you

he thinks you’re just a klutzy idiot of a secretary

you thought something had changed between the two of you considering you’d been spending sO much damn time together and honestly speaking you had completely forgotten about lisa

were you really that crazy to think that mAybe there was ~something~ romantic going on between the two of you?

why did you have to be such a hopeless romantic

you definitely need to cut back on the romcom binge-watching sessions with jimin

and now your fukicgn eyes are starting to tear up

great

just gREAT

stop!!!!

no crying at work!!!!!!!!!!! you are a grown woman!! get it together for the love of god

you squeeze your eyes shut and curse to yourself when you feel a hot tear rolling down the side of your face and you use the sleeve of your blouse to dab it away

if yoongi comes out and sees you crying that’d be humiliating

just cry at home like a normal person

you calm yourself and distract yourself by scrolling through and organising your emails

soon enough yoongi’s door opens and he steps out and woW

he looks so dreamy

he fixed his hair and you’re pretty sure he changed into another shirt because this one has no wrinkles

yoongi adjusts his cufflinks before patting himself down to check for his phone and wallet

and before you can help yourself

“you look handsome, mr min.” you immediately look away when yoongi turns to look at you and you’re like hMMm let me take a look at this sticky note that only has a smiley face doodled on it

a small smile tugs at yoongi’s lips when he sees your cheeks warm a little

god u r so ADOrable

no

no! he scolds himself and reminds himself that dating someone you work with never ends well

he has to get over this stupid little crush of his and lisa is the perfect distraction

maybe he’ll end up really reaLLy liking lisa and then he won’t have to worry about you anymore

yep

that’s a good plan

“buy yourself some dinner. i’ll see you later.” yoongi tosses a couple crumpled up bills onto the counter and then he gestures to the hallway and then he’s off

you watch wistfully as he makes his way down the hallway

lisa’s one lucky girl

the next couple of hours really give you some alone time to reflect on what’s happening

let’s see

you like yoongi

a loT more than you thought you did

and he doesn’t feel the same way

nothing ever works out for you in the world of ~romance~

even in high school and college

no one was ever interested in u

and when you thought someone was interested they were actually just being nice to you

of course after you graduated things were a little different

you used tinder and ended up losing your virginity to this guy you’d texted for like a month

he came after like two strokes and then kicked you out of his place and that’s the most romantic thing someone’s ever done for you

great

you’re going to die alone

you groan and pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration

save the tears for home save the tears for home

you’re rarely at the office alone at night

usually there are other people on the level but tonight it’s just you

you would be creeped out but you’re too busy pitying yourself to be scared of any ghosts or demons potentially haunting the building

you finished work earlier than you thought you would and you were tempted to leave because you have nothing else to do but you told yoongi you’d be here

maybe he’ll give you a small raise for being such a loyal secretary

you just finished your dinner (fish tacos and french fries from the food truck across the street) and you’re just aimlessly scrolling through your facebook feed

it’s about 8:15 when you hear the faint ding of the elevator and you perk up

and then you hear yoongi

you recognise the sound of his walk

why did he come back so soon his meeting isn’t for like another hour and a bit

you get up from your chair and straighten yourself out and look up as yoongi approaches your desk

“back so soon?? it’s only- oh my goD” yoongi’s grumbling to himself while dabbing at his shirt that has a huge splatter of wine on it

yikEs

no wonder he’s back

it’s fine you’ll get him another shirt and he’ll head back to the restaurant

how did he pour sO much wine on himself

“i’ll get you another shirt, boss”

you immediately go into his office and grab a crisp shirt for him from his little closet

you walk out and

oh sweet baby jesus

you squeak and instinctively cover your eyes as your cheeks flush because

yoongi is shirtless

“sorry, i just wanted to get as much of it out as possible” yoongi’s not looking at you but that’s good because now you’re basically gawking at him

he has his shirt on your desk and is rubbing pretty hard at the purple stain

he’s kind of bent over and you can see his bicep flex every time he wipes

and o hl o r d

his back muscles,,,,,,,,,,,

“are you, um, is lisa waiting for you at the restaurant? did you just come back to change?”

yoongi pauses

“she went home. the date didn’t work out. there was no spark. the meeting is more important anyways” he grumbles before getting up and looking down at the shirt

“what- you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to but what… happened on the date?”

yoongi sighs as he slips into his shirt and you’re about to apologise because it’s really none of your business but then he speaks up

“i don’t wanna get too into it, but the gist of it is that she kinda just wanted me for my money and then when i accused her of that she threw her wine all over me” he shrugs as if that’s the most casual thing to happen ever

oh dang

that’s rough

that sucks!!!! lisa sucks!!!!! what sane person would be perfectly fine taking advantage of someone like that??

(you hated lisa the moment you met her)

“oh… i’m sorry, that sucks” is all you can manage because you’ve never been good with comforting people “if it… makes you feel any better i think her sandwiches are put together pretty sloppily i mean i could probably make better sandwiches with my feet”

that gets a laugh out of yoongi and he shakes his head

“yeaH i’m definitely going to take a break from sandwiches for a while”

he buttons his shirt up and fixes the collar before he moves past you and into his office

meanwhile you fold up his stained shirt and tuck it into your purse so that you can drop it off at the dry cleaners tomorrow

you figure you’d give yoongi a little alone time

you want to comfort him but you don’t know how

so you distract yourself by making a cup of coffee since it’s already pretty late

“you want a cup of coffee? i made extra” you poke your head into yoongi’s office and raise your brow when you see he’s not sitting at his desk

“i could use some caffeine.” yoongi’s standing at his closet and is currently trying to tie his tie but his fingers are not cooperating with him and he’s clearly struggling

you’re about to go and get his coffee but then you hear him mumbling about how dumb ties are and you can’t help it you need to help him out

“here, let me,” you click over to yoongi and slip in between him and the mirror before reaching up to fix his tie

he stares down at you as you wrap the blade around the tail of the tie and a fond smile twitches at his lips

there’s something different about you but he can’t point out what it is

your brows are knitted together in intense concentration and

wow you’re cute

“once around…” you mumble to yourself and pause, tilting your head in confusion

that doesn’t look right

“oh, wait. twice! twice around, sorry” you adjust the tie slightly and make sure it’s not so tight so that’s it’s cutting off his breathing lol

“twice around…” yoongi breathes out and his head lowers a little when you yank on the tie gently to tighten it

your eyes flicker up and your cheeks immediately flush when you realise how close you are to yoongi right now

you’re basically pressed up against the mirror and you’d only have to take like half a step closer and your nose would be touching his

you don’t know what it is but you find yourself tugging on his tie and pulling him down so that you can press your lips against his

yoongi’s eyes widen in surprise but his lips are moving on their own accord

and for the first time evER

yoongi’s heart flutters in his chest

he’s never felt this way before

not even with lisa

your lips are so unbelievably soft

yoongi can taste the strawberry chapstick that he sees you apply all the time and he can’t help but suck your bottom lip in between his teeth

and when you let out a little moan of his name his hands itch to pull you closer because god daMn…

and then it hits you

you’re kissing yoongi

you’re kissing your boss

you’re not just kissing him you guys are fully making out

RED ALERT

what the hELL R U DOING

you immediately pull away and you are just,,, mortified

just because u haven’t gotten laid in like idk 8 months doesn’t mean you can go around KISSING anyone you like

get your hormones in check girl!!!!!!

this is not the way to comfort someone!!!!!!!

“oh shit- that wasn’t- i’m so sorry, i, uh- i don’t know why i did that but-“ yoongi’s about to speak up to calm you down and tell you it’s okay but then the skype ringtone echoes from his desk and the two of you are reminded that he has a very important conference call “okay, i’ll be out there, um, have fun??” you bolt out of the room and shut the door behind you and uGHHHH

for about forty minutes you’re just stewing in your own humiliation as yoongi takes his call

meanwhile yoongi can barely focus on what he’s talking about because all he can think about are your lips and how sweet you taste

you realise you’ve spent the last ten minutes just staring at a blank word document because all you can think about it WHY DID I DO THAT

you hear yoongi saying goodbye to whoever he’s talking to and you slap your face gently a couple times to snap out of it

maybe you can just act casual about it

haha yeah bro we just kissed but it’s fine it’s totally normal i kiss jimiN all the time

okay that’s not a very good approach to the situation

you don’t get a chance to come up with another brilliant solution because yoongi’s office door opens and he steps out before switching the lights off and tucking his phone and wallet into his back pocket

“c’mon, i’ll drive you home”

wha,,,, you don’t think you can survive a car ride home with yoongi because you’re still mortified about what happened

and he’s not bringing it up either so maybe he just wants to forget about it too

“oh, no, it’s alright! i can take the bus home”

“it’s a little past midnight it’s not safe. don’t be stubborn.”

“i’m not being stubborn! seriously, it’s fine” you wave him off before pointing to your laptop “i have some work to do anyway”

yoongi bends down to look at your screen and raises an eyebrow

“this is an empty word document.” he stands back up and looks down at you before nodding his head over to the hallway “pack up your stuff that’s an order.” he switches your desk lamp off for you before he’s walking towards the elevators and well you don’t have a choice now so

you shove everything into your bag and grab your cardigan off the back of your chair before quickly jogging over to the lift

the two of you step in and you’re standing so close that your arms are pressed together

but neither of you seem to be moving away

interesting

the two of you stare up at the little screen showing the descending floor numbers

“i’m perfectly capable of taking myself home”

“i’m aware”

“so i’ll just take the bus then?”

“nope”

“mr min “

“yoongi. it’s after hours. you can call me yoongi, y/n.”

((his name is cute to you for some reason))

“yoOngi. i don’t want to inconvenience you, sir. my place is like a twenty-minute drive away and your penthouse is like five minutes “

“it’s not an inconvenience. come.” you figure there’s no use trying to argue with yoongi

he pretty much always gets his way no matter what

maybe that’s why he’s so rich

you trail behind him and he unlocks his car (it’s a sleek black range rover!!!!!!!!!) and he gets into the driver’s seat while you slip into the passenger seat

“are you sure about this, yoongi? i feel bad because you’ve already had a bad night like don’t feel obligated to drive me home because i helped you tie your-“

“i’m literally not even listening to you right now” the engine purrs to life and yoongi pulls out of his spot

he has his sleeves rolled up and his tie is loosened and his hair is kind of messy probably from him running his hand through it (a nervous habit you’ve noticed he has)

…..god he looks sexy

it’s also pretty late and his voice has gotten slightly raspy and is like an octave lower

your mind wanders and you find yourself wondering what he’d sound like while

omg get urself together

you’re tempted to just not say anything for the entire duration of the ride and just let the radio do the talking but

“…so you really don’t know how to tie your own tie?” yoongi smiles at your question as he keeps his eyes on the road

“it’s too much effort, tying a tie. that’s why most of mine are those clip-on ones” he admits and your mouth drops because LoL you have this professional ceo who terrifies everyone and he uses lil clip-on ties like a little boy

“clip-on ties??? omG that’s so adorable you’re so cute” you blurt out as you laugh at him and yoongi glances over at you for a second before he shakes his head and laughs along

the rest of the ride to your place consists of you sharing funny stories and yoongi mostly listening and focusing on driving but he laughs a lot and you feel good because you think you’re making him feel better about the she who shall not be named situation

((lisa doesn’t deserve him anyways))

lisa is the last thing on yoongi’s mind because of you

:-))

he never really liked those sandwiches anywho

you feel kinda sad when he rolls up to the front of your building because you guys were having such a nice time

like you’ve literally never been so casual with yoongi before

you like spending time with him

…you like him.

that was probably pretty obvious considering you kissed him

he hasn’t brought it up,,,,,, which is kind of concerning but

knowing yoongi he’s acting professional about it

“thanks for the ride, yoongs.” the nickname slips out accidentally and you look up to make sure he’s not like disgUSted with the new nickname you’ve given him

“c’mon, i’ll walk you to the door”

he gets out of the car before you can protest

you hop out and shut the door behind you and he locks the car

“thanks for everything, by the way. i enjoyed your company tonight.” yoongi murmurs and in the dim streetlights you can see his cheeks go a little pink

“i know. i’m amazing company, what can i say?” you joke and yoongi rolls his eyes because of coUrse you would say something like that “i hope i made you feel a little better.”

“you did” the two of you stop in front of the entrance and you turn to face each other

“good! that’s good. well,,,,goodnight, boss” you’re about to zip right into the building but you’re stopped by yoongi tugging on your wrist causing you to spin around and all of a sudden you feel yoongi press the ~softest~ kiss to your cheek

aaAHHHHHHHHHHHH

“goodnight, y/n.” yoongi smiles kindly at you and you beam at him with pink cheeks before you nod and go inside

you can feel his gaze on you as you wait for the lift and you’re bouncing on your toes for some reason

you feel super jittery and you want to scream so loudly but it’s like 2am lol

the next morning you have a pep in your step and jimin’s like omg slow down i know you’re happy about the whole yoongi thing but i have short legs!!!!!!

your arm is linked with his and you’re basically dragging him down the street so you slow down and you’re like sorry i’m just,,,,, really happy,,,,,

jimin lets you get away with it because he knows you haven’t gotten some romantic action in a while

and suddenly your happiness is replaced by nervousness the moment you see yoongi

jimin yelps when you duck behind the corner and yank him with you

you listen for the ‘ding’ and you peek out from behind the corner to make sure the elevator doors have closed

“what was that????”

“i….,.,, i don’t know!!!” you snap and walk over to the lifts and push the up button quickly

“i thought you and yoongi had a greAT time yesterday so why’d you basically piss yourself when “

“i don’T KNOW STOP YELLING AT ME”

jimin takes that as a hint to stop and the elevator ride up is silent

you’re so flustered you forget to blow jimin an air kiss and he’s like okay now i look like boo boo the fOOL blowing a kiss to nobody

you plop down on your chair and put your purse under your desk and let out a breath

okay

whatever that panic attack was

it can’t happen again

how are you supposed to act around yoongi now??

you kissed him

he kissed your cheek

you guys had a great time

should you act more casual around him???

maybe you should ask him if he wants to go out for lunch

or is that too much too soon

oh god

“good morning, miss y/l/n.” you jump when yoongi walks past you and into his office

“good- hi, good morning boss!!!” you say a little too enthusiastically and you clear your throat

you stand up and clutch your iPad to your chest and waddle into his office

you curse to yourself and lean down to adjust your heels

“you surprisingly don’t have any meetings today but you do have to look over the rewritten company policies after that- um, incident that happened on the 45th floor and the financial precinct”

“okay. what’s for lunch today?”

“what’s for-“ oh no you weren’t prepared for this what’S THE PLAN Y/N WHAT’S THE PLAN “lunch is… with me. you’re having lunch with me.” is what you blurt out and you press your lips together when yoongi looks up from his phone and gives you this…. look  

“unless you… unless you want a… sandwich or something i “

“where are we eating lunch?”

oh okay he wants to eat lunch with you that’s a good sign

“i’ll get some takeout for us? there’s a really good sushi place a couple blocks “

“okay. you can use my card. i like the spicy tuna rolls with those crunchy bits sprinkled on top.”

“okay! okay okay that’s- yes, those ones are nice. how does lunch at 12:30 sound?”

“mm.” yoongi scribbles something on a post-it note and you take that as a hint to get the heck out

you shut the door behind you

okay

so is yesterday just going to be an unspoken thing

fine

you can do that

whatever

keeping it casual

you can keep it casual

you’re as cool as a cucumber

you’re as cool as the sunglasses guy emoji

B-)

coolcoolcoolcoolcool

jimin pouts a little when you tell him you’re not joining him for lunch but when you say you have a lil sushi date with yoongi he’s like……. hmmmmmmm okay i’ll get over it :-))))))))

the sushi place is a couple blocks away

and to get there you have to pass by the sandwich place which isn’t a big deal

and when you get there you’re about to just keep walking because who cares about sandwiches anymore but

well you can’t help yourself

:-)

you walk in and lisa looks surprised to see you

“lisa.” you smile at her and then look down at the display case

“y/n! i, um, hi. hey. what can i get for you?” she scratches the back of her neck and can’t seem to keep eye contact with you

in fact she seems to be a little scared

now you know how yoongi feels

being powerful…… makes you feel niCe

“i’m in the mood for… a nice, hot cup of tea.” lisa nods quickly and punches a couple buttons on the cash register

“english breakfast or green?”

“english breakfast, please.” you hum and rummage through your purse for your wallet and hand her a couple of coins and then you go over and wait for it on the side

but you’re not just here to get a cup of tea

oh nonoOonononono

“y/n, here’s your tea!” lisa chirps happily and hands you your cup of tea with a smile

“thank you,” you take a tiny sip and then purse your lips and lisa’s like !!! what’s wrong??

“oof, i hate to do this.” you sigh and shake your head “but could you add a little more cream and a sprinkle of go fuck yourself?”

“sure i’ll just-wait w-what?” lisa looks up at you with wide eyes and you stare blankly at her

“…a little more cream and sugar?”

you hand her your cup and she nods quickly and adds in a splash of cream and even stirs it for you the polite little thing

“h-here you go, y/n”

“thanks lisa.” you begin walking away but you turn back to look over your shoulder “have a wonderful, gold-digging day!”

lisa grows pale

you dump the tea into the bin the moment you leave the sandwich place and head straight for the sushi place

you give yourself a high five for avenging yoongi in your own twisted way

“i’m bAck and i’m ready to eaT” you shut the door behind you as you enter yoongi’s office and frown when you see him typing an obviously angry email

now the past y/n would’ve immediately excused herself and then leave the room but for some reason you feel like,,,, you’re the one holding the power

maybe you’re still on a high from your encounter with lisa

so instead of being like oH i’ll just come back in a sec you stroll over and shut yoongi’s laptop and then hand him a pair of chopsticks

“i was in the middle of something.” his eyebrows knit together and he’s about to open up his laptop but you use the chopsticks to gently whack his hand and he flinches

“i’m aware” you wave the chopsticks in front of yoongi and he sighs and takes it “but the only thing you had today was half a cup of coffee. so we’re going to eat and then maYbe i’ll let you get back to work”

you take a seat and proceed to take the takeaway containers out of the flimsy plastic bag and yoongi’s just sitting there like since when did you become so,,,,, bold

“a spicy tuna roll with the crunchy tempura bits on top for you and a dragon roll for meEE” yoongi perks up when you pop open the lid of your styrofoam box

damn

your roll looks rly good

he looks down at his own spicy tuna roll

sure he likes spicy tuna but he’s not in the mood for raw fish today

hm

“what’s in your roll?” yoongi raises an eyebrow when he sees that you’ve already shoved a roll into your mouth

the way your cheeks are filled resembles a chipmunk and he waits patiently for you to chew and swallow

“nice to see that you’ve got the eating abilities of a three-year-old toddler”

you roll your eyes and ignore his comment

“it’s tempura shrimp and cucumber on the inside and then avocado on top with a drizzle of spicy mayo i think” you pick up a sliver of ginger and pop it into your mouth and chew thoughtfully

meanwhile yoongi takes half a bite of one of his rolls and decides he’s over it

it’s good but it’s not tempura shrimp and cucumber with avocado on top and a drizzle of spicy mayo

“you forgot to shut the door.” yoongi uses his chopsticks to point over your shoulder and you immediately turn around and get up

didn’t you shut the door when you came in??

once your back is turned yoongi reaches over and snags one of your rolls before shoving it into his mouth

holy shit

this is SO GOOD

when you walk over the door… is closed

“the door wasn’t open” you walk back over and take a seat

yoongi swallows his bite and shrugs “sorry, my bad.”

okay he was originally just going to eat one and be done with it but he wants another one

“is that your phone ringing outside?” yoongi stops eating and leans forward a little bit as if listening to something

you turn back again and look at the door and try to hear for your ringtone

“i don’t hear anything”

“you don’t??” yoongi grabs another roll from your box and shoves it into his mouth

“do you think i’m going deaf or something because i seriously can’t hear a thing” you turn back just in time to see yoongi shoving one of yOUR rolls into his mouth

“did you just-“ yoongi wipes a dot of mayo off from the corner of his mouth and then swallows

you look down at your roll and count in your head

you only ate 1

but 3 of them are missing

omg

you look up at yoongi slowly and he takes a sip of water

“…yOU!!! you THIEF!!!! that’s not fair now you have to give me two of yours so we’re even” you reach over with your chopsticks and gawk at yoongi when he blocks your chopsticks with his own

“you don’t have any proof”

“i saw you with my own eyes yoONGI”

next thing you know the two of you are fighting with your chopsticks and using them like swords

it’s when a droplet of soy sauce almost stains yoongi’s dress shirt that he stops whacking his chopsticks with yours and holds a hand out to stop you

“tell you what-“ he leans forward as if negotiating some sort of business deal “you give me your dragon roll.” and then he doesn’t say anything else

“…and???”

“that’s it. you just give me your dragon roll.” the playful glint in yoongi’s eyes tells you he’s just kidding but you can’t help but scowl at him anyways

“you’re a lousy negotiator how the hell’d you become a ceo??” you end up sacrificing your dragon roll and yoongi gives you his spicy tuna roll which honestly is also pretty good

at the end it’s worth it to see yoongi humming happily as he chews thoughtfully

he’s so cute uWu

yoongi, to put it bluntly

is completely and utterly fucked 

he like

kind of wants to bring up what happened between you two

but he also doesn’t know how

because he’s never been in thiS kind of situation before

so the kiss is kind of just a thing that’s been hanging in the air but the two of you act like nothing happened

uGh

all this relationship drama makes him feel like he’s in high school again

he just!!!!!!! wants to do something!!!!!!!! but he doesn’t know what to do!!!!!!!!

so when yoongi gets an email about the yearly company gala

a lightbulb appears above his head

“y/n i need you in my office” yoongi walks past your desk and into his office and you quickly spoon the rest of your rice into your mouth before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and going in

“what’s up? um, i mean- what can i help you with?” you clear your throat and lick over your teeth in case there’s any food stuck in between your teeth

yoongi sits down and leans back against his chair while keeping his eyes on you

“you’re coming with me to the gala tomorrow night”

oh what

you squint your eyes slightly and wait for him to be like lolz just kidding get back to work

but he never does that

you’ve never been to a company gala before

your old boss had a wife so it’s not like he had to ask you to accompany him

“you- me? you want me to come with you to the “

“we’ll leave after work tomorrow, so make sure you bring something nice to change into.” yoongi’s flipping through some papers on his desk and he reaches up to lick his finger before swiping to the next page

“sir, you don’t think it’s a little bit-“ your phone rings outside and you turn to look at the door before looking back at yoongi “-it’s a little bit weird for you to be showing up with your secreta-“

“go and pick up the phone. might be an important call.”

okay well

apparently you’re going to a gala now

tomorrow comes a lot sooner than you thought it would because the next thing you know work is over and you’re changing in the disabled washroom with jimin as your lovely assistant

“c’mon, suck it in” jimin grits his teeth as he tugs at the zipper of your dress “i told you to go for that blue one”

it’s a little black dress

off the shoulder

sweetheart neckline

it ends a little above your knees

“but i’ve never worn this dress before and i wanted to take it out for a spin!!” you wiggle your hips to try and help jimin and he lets out a breath of relief when he finally gets the zipper to zip up in one smooth movement

now you know why you’ve never worn this dress before

it’s so damn tiGHt

well honestly it’s not that bad but it’s just,, tighter than things you usually wear

at least your boobs look perkier

“if you bend down, this thing is going to bust open” jimin snorts and bends down to help you into your heels and he scowls when you put your hand on top of his head to keep yourself from toppling over

“how does it look?”

“it looks good, you look sexy” and sure you’re just friends with jimin but that comment gets your cheeks to flush a little bit and you can’t help but bite back with a “keep it in your pants, park” and he raises his hands in defence

“alright, you go and enjoy yourself at a fancy ball while i go home and pig out in front of the TV” jimin sighs dramatically and you laugh but give him a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving the washroom

you keep your eyes down as you click past the cubicles because you can feel everyone just staring at you and you hear jimin go like “i know her ass looks good but keep talking about her like that and i’ll knock u out” in the distance

you knock on the door to yoongi’s office and let yourself in and

wOOF

you see yoongi wear suits everyday but for some reason tonight he looks ten times more expensive

his hair is styled to perfection

his lips look extra pouty and when he licks over his bottom lip and moistens it you audibly swallow

there isn’t even one wrinkle on his shirt

not only does he look sexy he also smELLS sexy

the entire room just smells like yoongi

he’s on the phone and is scribbling something down so he doesn’t notice you yet

“yes, i hope to hear from you soon.” he has his phone sandwiched in between his shoulder and his ear as he adjusts his cufflinks and woW you are totally heart eyes emoji right now “take care.” he hangs up and gets up from his seat while looking for his keys “ready to go?”

“yep! let’s get a move on because i don’t know how long my feet are going to last in these heels”

yoongi’s hand stops searching and his eyes flicker to your heels and then his eyes slowly trail up your legs and the rest of your body

holy

sh…it

“you clean up nicely” is all he can say because words cannot describe,,, how sexy you look to him right now

okay calm down yoongi find ur keys don’t gawk at ur secretary

he finds his keys and tucks them into his back pocket but then he’s like oH hold on before i forget come here

and he rummages through his bag and pulls out a velvet box from fuckign cartier

“this is for you. for tonight.” he opens it and your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets at the sight of this gorgeous diamond necklace and you don’t even get a chance to protest before yoongi’s taking it out and moving behind you to help you clasp it on

you reach up and pinch the diamond charm between your fingers and then you turn to look at him over your shoulder and you’re like yoongi i can’t just accept a diamond necklace from u

“fine i’ll take it out of your paycheque”

“yOONgI”

“i’m kidding i’m kidding c’mon let’s go”

the car ride there consists of you humming and bopping along to whatever song is playing on the radio

yoongi calls you out on not knowing the lyrics and you’re like u know whAt i could just leave you at this gala thing and go home

“then i’ll fire you”

“you’re mean”

“i’ve been called worse.”

“by who??”

“by yoU”

lolz

when you guys get to the gala

all you can say is woW because WOW

you’re parked across the street from this huGe mansion that literally looks like the white house

“a bug is going to fly into your mouth if you keep gawking like that” yoongi places a hand on the small of your back and walks you across the street and you feel all tingLy

“are you kidding me yoongi do you sEE this place it’s HUGE”

“there are like 1000 people here of course it’s huge”

welp

that just adds to your anxiety

you clutch your purse tightly when you see some very veRy fancy looking people walk past you and into the building

you really don’t belong here

and it seems like yoongi can read your mind

“don’t worry, y/n. i’ll be glued to your side all night.”

“and why is that?”

“so i can make sure you don’t accidentally knock something expensive over.” the two of you make your way up the stairs and your feet are already beginning to throb from your stilettos

“you know what i’m not thAt clumsy” right as you finish saying that you stumble a little over your heels and yoongi’s grip around your waist immediately tightens

“…you were saying?”

you clear your throat and grab his arm and drag him into the building

this is…. this interior looks like it was ripped straight out of some kind of fairytale

huge glass chandeliers

marble columns

waiters and waitresses evErywhere

their uniforms look more expensive than your entire existence

and then you spot it

the f o o d table

“oh my god i see tiny baby sandwiches” you gasp and immediately head for the sandwiches and but yoongi grabs your wrist and tugs you backwards “whAt are you doing i’m so hungry i’m going to eat like 100 of those let me gO- “

“mr min! it’s so nice to see you!” you shut up immediately when the two of you are approached by an older looking couple and you put on your polite smile

“mr lee. it’s nice to see you again.” yoongi gives him a firm handshake and then turns to his wife “mrs lee- looking lovely, as per usual.”

“still charming, i see!” and you’re tempted to be like lol yooNgi??? charming??? wheRE

“and who’s this lovely lady?” the man smiles at you and you’re like whoops time to introduce myself

“oh, i’m y/n! i’m mr min’s secreta-“

“date. she’s my date.” yoongi wraps an arm around your waist and draws you in nice and close and you’re like ! ? ! ?

y/n.exe has stopped working

okay okay coolcoolcool keep it casual nice and casual

anyways you shake the guy's hand and you shake his wife’s hand too and offer her a smile

“gorgeous necklace! who gave it to you?”

well

time to keep it casual

“yoongi did!” you pat his chest gently “he knows i have expensive taste even though i’m only worth like 50 cents and a pack of instant ramen.” everyone laughs and yoongi laughs along too but he’s not really focused because he’s just so,,, entranced by you

you’re so unbelievably charming and witty

and god you look good tonight

you look like a million bucks even though you told him you got your dress for 70% off the original price

“could you excuse us for a second? i need some alcohol in my system otherwise i don’t know if i’ll be able to survive tonight.” you excuse yourself and yoongi from the couple and link your arm with his and now he’s like ! ? ! ?

“buddy system, yoongi. you can’t lose me in this crowd otherwise you’ll have to find a new secretary.”

“i don’t see the problem with that.” he earns a slap on the arm for that comment and he can’t help but smile at the way you scowl at him

you hand yoongi a flute of champagne and pick one up for yourself and the two of you clink glasses before taking a sip

ahHhHHHH

this shit tastes frickin expensive

it’s like liquid gold

you’d drink the whole bottle if alcohol poisoning wasn’t a thing

“you should take me to more of these things” you hum and take another sip before wiping off a bit of your lip gloss staining the rim of the glass

“and why is that?”

“not only am i greAt at charming people i also happen to really really like champagne” you tsk and yoongi laughs lightly

“charming people? ah, yes. as proven by what you said when we first met.” 

“okay but if you weren’T min yoongi and you were some other person you totally would’ve thought what i said was charming”

“touché.”

the two of you spend the next half an hour just talking to each other

you’re having such a good time

yoongi’s a great person to talk to and with every passing minute you find your fondness of him growing and growing

you

are

so

whiPPEd

and with alcohol running through your veins you feel,,, a tad more confident

the buzz makes you feel giDDY

so you reach over and fix a strand of yoongi’s hair “i didn’t know this was a date, by the way.”

yoongi’s not surprised that you’re touchy when you’re tipsy

“what are you talking about?”

“i thought i was here as your secretary!!!!”

“you’ve never been on a date before and i’m a good samaritan who loves giving to charities”

“wha- i’VE BEEN on a dATE BEFore!!!” you scowl and yoongi rolls his eyes playfully “okay well it was more like a hangout with a bunch of friends but i really liked the guy and i think he liked me back and you know what he sat next to me when we were watching a movie so-“

“you don’t have to come up with a crazy story to try and convince me that you’ve gone on a date - this is your first date, and it’s with me.” he shrugs and downs the rest of his champagne “i have to go and talk to someone, will you be alright alone?”

“why can’t i come with you?” you whine and lean against yoongi a little and you’re a little too tipsy to notice his cheeks flare up

“because they’re all going to look at you like a piece of meat and i’d rather that didn’t happen.” you look over your shoulder and see a round table with a bunch of older men

your heart feels a lil fuzzy at the realisation that yoongi is,,, being very very protective of u

hm

yoongi hands you another flute of champagne and sets your empty glass down “you’ll be fine in the VIP section just enjoy the drinks and don’T move from this spot”

“but i don’t wanna stand here-“

“i’ll only be like 10 minutes, you whiney baby. here-” when you open your mouth to speak he pops an olive puff into your mouth and then pats your cheek and slips past you

you want to pout but it’s hard doing that when there’s foOd in your mouth so you just watch yoongi as he walks away

of course he turns back to glance at you and gives you a warning look that says if you move from ur spot i’ll shank you

you hate being alone at parties and now you’re alone at this fancy gala

so you resort to your usual solution

scrolling through your phone while standing by the food and drinks

about five minutes pass and you’re already getting bored of the tetris game you’re playing

and then you hear two voices belonging to two girls and they’re standing a little distance behind you

“you think she fucked mr min so she could come here? i bet i could’ve fucked him better.”

oh

oh hELL no

you would nEVER do something like that to get a job you’ve always believed in earning a position through hard work and determination

you want to turn your head and look at the two girls and confront them but you also want to hear what else they have to say

“oh, definitely. what a slut! fucked her way to the goddamn top. that’s how this business works when you’re desperate, i guess.”

you’re clutching your flute of champagne so tightly that your knuckles are starting to get white and you’re surprised the glass hasn’t cracked from the pressure

you can feel your entire face burning up with humiliation and you try to calm yourself by taking a sip of champagne but even good ol bubbly can’t help you

god

this was a mistake

you should have turned down yoongi

“the point is that she doesn’t belong here. especially in the VIP section with us??”

they’re right!!!! u don’t belong here!!!!!!! you are noWhere as rich and successful as these people,,,, you’re tempted to just ditch yoongi and go home

“that dress was a choice. this isn’t a strip club, honey.”

“god, look at her necklace. there’s no way a fucking secretary could afford that shit. how many times did she suck him off for him to give it to her?” the blonde snorts to herself - and raises an eyebrow in your direction

the introduction of a third voice makes you perk up

because that voice belongs to yoongi

he stands in front of them with his hands clasped behind his back

“zero times, actually. i suggest keeping your assumptions - which are all wrong, by the way - to yourselves.” yoongi smiles and tilts his head and the two of them go pale and exchange glances before looking down at the ground

it’s almost eery how calm and composed he is when he goes “miss cho, miss pak -  i can destroy your pathetic little cupcake company with one phone call. have a good night, ladies.”

he walks over to you and you’re like >:-) when you see the security guards guiding the two girls out

“thanks for doing that”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about” yoongi downs the rest of his drink and sets it down on the table before taking your champagne and putting it down as well

“you didn’t have to be so mean about it, though”

“i still don’t know what you’re talking about.” he pauses “and yes, i did have to be mean about it. i never really enjoyed these gatherings, anyway. let’s get some ice cream.”

“don’t you still have business to tend to?” you gesture back to the table of men

yoongi shrugs “they’ll call me if they need anything”

you nod slowly and look around one last time “i thought you didn’t like sweet things though”

yoongi is very tempted to say even tho he doesn’t like sweet things he certainly likes you but

the cheesiness of it all makes his entire soul criNGE

“i can make an exception”

he google maps if there are any ice cream places near the event and luckily there’s one about a six-minute walk away

and so the two of you begin the mini trek

you should have brought your cardigan with you

you underestimated how breezy it gets late at night

yoongi obviously notices this and proceeds to take his suit jacket off before wrapping it around you

you turn and give yoongi a smile even though he’s looking straight ahead

“don’t look at me like that”

“like what?” you hum and link your arm with his and yoongi freezes for a millisecond at the contact

he grumbles something under his breath and you don’t bother asking him to repeat it

“sorry for forcing you to go to this dumb thing with me”

“it’s okay, i had fun! plus you’re treating me to an ice cream in four minutes time so that makes everything worth it”

a comfortable silence falls between the two of you

and it’s just the sound of your heels clicking against the pavement mixed in with the occasional car driving by

goD his suit jacket smells like him and it’s making you feel all woozy

when you get to the cute ice cream parlour yoongi opens the door for you like a true gentleman would and when you give him a little curtsey in thanks he can’t help but roll his eyes playfully while the tiniest of smiles tugs at the corners of his mouth

you’re adorable

and if it’s even possible you become even more adorable at the sight of the large selection of flavours of ice cream there is

“oH MY god red velvet cake ice cream??” your nose is practically pressed up against the glass and your eyes are big and sparkly

there are only like one or two other people in the parlour at this hour and yoongi’s glad because that gives the two of you at least a lil bit of privacy

he looks around a little and turns his attention back to the ice creams

“CINNAMON BUN FLAVOURED- you shouldn’t have taken me here boss the sun is going to come up before i make a decision” you shake your head and tsk and yoongi laughs at that “what flavour are you thinking of getting?”

“i was just going to get the low-fat low sugar vanilla frozen yogurt.”

“oh bOO c’mon live a little grandpa” you snort and shuffle a little to scan over the other flavours

“it’s not my fault-“ yoongi pauses and squints his eyes “-apple pie ice cream sounds like the nastiest thing in the world”

“how about you go and get us some seats and i’ll choose your flavour”

“but-“

“if you don’t like it then i’ll let you get your low-fat low-sugar low-fun stupid vanilla frozen yogurt” you negotiate and yoongi’s like okay finE i guess

he’s about to reach into his wallet but you stop him and you’re like nope it’s mY treat go and find us a booth

of course before he goes and finds the two of you a seat he makes sure to slip the cashier a couple of bills and is like i’m covering for whatever she picks out

yoongi decides to go with a lil booth in the back

just for a little more ~privacy~

and now that he has a moment to himself

oh my god what the fucK is happening to him

he doesn’t do ice cream??

he doesn’t do arm linking??

giving his jacket to someone because they’re cold??? not his thing!!!! he ALWAYS puts himself first!!!!!!

but most importantly

he doesn’t do the whole

romAnce thing

like after the whole fiasco with lisa he was like lol i’m not going to put myself through thaT again and then you came along and RUINED everything by kissing him and making his heart go boom boom because he’s finally realising that you’re just so terribly sweet and nice and kind to him even tho he’s a grade A asshole most of the time

he literally can’t get you off his mind

he thinks of you before he goes to bed ( ;-) )

he thinks of you when he wakes up

and then he sees you most hours of the day and you’re always there with a bright smile and you’re like good morning boss! and he wants to EXPLODE because gosh darn it!!!! you are so cute!!!!!!

and now he’s having a crisis because right now in this stupid ice cream parlour at 1 in the morning he is realising that he 110% has feelings for you and wants to kiss the heck out of you

“i told you it was mY treat!!!!” yoongi snaps himself out of it when you slide into the booth to sit next to him and usually yoongi would be like um,,,,, why are you sitting next to me it makes sense for u to sit across from me u idiot

he’ll.,,,,,… he can make an exception for u

ahem

you slide his cup over to him and yoongi blinks down at it

this…. multicoloured monstrosity with tiny baby marshmallows and sprinkles and chocolate syrup on top

“what flavour is this?? diabetes??” yoongi frowns and twists the cup around a couple times to look at it from all angles

“haha, very funny” you stick a spoonful of your ice cream into your mouth (u went with blueberry cheesecake flavoured ice cream) “it’s birthday cake flavoured! it’s wild but it’s not toO wild”

“you call this not too wild??” yoongi takes a small scoop “i can tell u right now i’m not going to like this because birthday cake is a cake it doesn’t belong in an ice cream” he puts it into his mouth

and you watch him as he processes the many flavours swirling around in his mouth

o shit

dis shit is gud

“well?”

“…eh” he shrugs “it’s passable”

you reach out to take his cup “i can always eat it for you and get you your froyo if you “ yoongi slaps your hand away from his cup and glares at you

and in your head you’re like lolz i toLd you so

“you wanna try some of mine?” you offer him a spoonful and yoongi takes it almost immediately

“i like mine better” he shrugs and holds a spoonful up for you “try some.”

as you’re leaning in to take the spoon into your mouth yoongi’s pulling the spoon farther and farther away from you and he feels his heart go boom boom again when you pout and go yOOooOngi pls

you hum when he finally feeds you the spoonful and you don’t even realise your hand is on his thigh and you’re practically pressed up against him

there’s a moment of silence where the two of you kind of just stare at each other

you’re about to pull away when suddenly

a cartoon exclamation mark appears at the top of your head when yoongi leans in and presses his lips against yours

you want to whine when he pulls away like a second later but you compose yourself quickly

“you had some ice cream there” yoongi clears his throat and focuses his attention back on his ice cream

you’re tempted to smother ice cream all over your face if it means yoongi will kiss you again

yoongi’s eyes widen in surprise when you lean in and plant a kiss on his cheek

“you’re cute, you know that?” you murmur and yoongi grumbles that he’S not cute but his cheeks heat up anyway

the point is

you two are now realising

that you like each other

: )))

[screams into the void]

the car ride home is spent letting the radio fill the silence

your tummies are filled with ice cream

both your hearts feel warm and fuzzy (although that’s probably from the insane amount of sugar you guys consumed earlier)

yoongi parks in front of your driveway and is like c’mon i’ll walk u over

you kind of want to invite him in?? to talk about things?? like if he kissed u that must mean he likes you back but what if he’s only doing it because he still hung up over lisa and blah bLah

but for some reason u can’t find the courage because what if it’s true,,, that he’s only using you to get over lisa…. and you’re really enjoying this little bubble that the both of you are floating in right now…..

“i, uh, i’m just going to come out and say it” the two of you are standing by the entrance

you nod slowly and wait for him to continue

oh god

here it comes

he’s going to tell u he’s not looking for anything serious and then you’re going to have to deal with your romantic feelings for him for the rest of your life

“i had a lot of fun tonight, and i… i think i like you.”

you don’t even realise you’re holding your breath but all you can say is

“you like me or you like-like me????”

okay he’s going to ignore that question

yoongi literally feels like he’s in high school again he’s far too mature for this shit

“i liked you the day we met in the elevator and you unknowingly told me how much of an asshole i am, i liked you when you whined about getting my shitty sandwiches for me, i liked you when you made fun of me for not knowing how to tie my own tie the point is i like you and i like-like you. don’t… don’t make a big deal out of this i don’t have a lot of experience with confessions like this but i just need to know if you like me back or not”

yoongi feels his body beginning to cave in on itself when you stare at him like :0

he can’t even look you straight in the eye he’s just staring at the space behind you

“this is the part where you kiss me, yoongi”

he looks at you and he swallows thickly when you take a small step forward

usually he’s the one in power but right now you definitely hold the power over him

and then it happens

he leans down in one swift movement and presses his lips against yours

this is your third kiss with yoongi and it’s your seCOnd one with him toNIGHT

at first it’s a relatively innocent kiss

nice and slow

romantic

makes your heart flutter

but of course

the two of you know exactly where this is going

you feel your tummy doing summersaults when he grabs your hips and pulls you in closer

you wrap your arms around his neck loosely and grin when you feel his tongue prodding at your bottom lip and yoongi groans in his throat when you tangle your fingers in his hair and give him a little tug

“you wanna come in for some coffee or something?” you smooth down his collar and he presses a kiss to your mouth smartly

“…one cream one sugar?” you giggle and pull him in and the two of you stumble to the elevator

yoongi’s hands are aLL over you the moment you unlock your front door

your purse and your keys end up on the floor somewhere because you’re too preoccupied making out with yoongi while he presses you up against the wall

“i’ve wanted to rip this dress off of you the moment i saw you in it” your back arches so that he can unzip the back of your dress while he’s planting kisses to your neck and your shoulders

he lets out a throaty groan when he sees the lingerie you’ve got on underneath

you felt like tonight was an appropriate night to go full bougie so you treated yourself to some ~lingerie~

thank god you did

you gasp when you feel yoongi tug at your panties and you hear a couple threads snap so you slap his hand away

“yoongi!!! this wasn’t cheap!”

“i’ll buy you a new pair, fuck, i’ll buy you ten new pairs” yoongi groans against your neck and pushes his crotch into yours and you automatically forgive him

meanwhile you’re blindly unbuttoning his shirt

articles of clothing are tossed on the floor leading a trail to your bedroom

“you gonna be a good girl for me?” the bed bounces underneath your weight as yoongi gently pushes you onto the mattress

and goD he looks like sin standing above you and loosening his tie while looking down at you with dark eyes and swollen lips

“yes, daddy”

oh,,,,,,,, o oh my god

he wants to wreck you

“naughty little thing” he purrs then leans down to kiss you while slotting himself in between your legs

and the moan you let out when he rolls his hips against yours is something he’d want to listen to for the rest of his life it was possible

and then he’s leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck and your chest and your stomach until his head is in between your legs

the coffee can definitely wait

; )

when he wakes up the next morning he’s surprised to see your chin propped up on his chest and you have the brightest smile on your face

“you like-like me”

yoongi groans and smacks you with a pillow to shut you up but he can still hear your muffled you like likE Me biTCH

the two of you get to work an hour late because yoongi decided he wanted to strip you out of your pencil skirt the second you changed into it

and everyone’s kind of like ?? what…… the..,.,.,.,fuuuuuu when the elevator doors open and they all catch a glimpse of you adjusting yoongi’s tie and yoongi leaning down to give you a kiss

you’re not sure if yoongi wants the entire office knowing about the two of you so you move to the side to let him walk out first but he grabs you and wraps an arm around your waist and walks the two of you out

and you’re like okay i guess this is a thing now

“good… morning, boss….”

“morning, sir…!”

yoongi pauses and turns back

“good morning, everyone. i hope you’ll all work hard today.”

and then he pushes you gently and the two of you continue walking down the hallway together

oh shit

yoongi just

yoongi just said good morning back

and now everyone’s even more confused because literally whose mans is this

you push his hand back up to your hip when you feel it sliding down a little and you retaliate by pinching his bicep

yoongi smiles and pinches your hip

you turn and look over your shoulder and it looks like the entire office is staring at the two of you like they’re just crowded around the beginning of the hallway

and jimin’s in the front like THAT’S. MY. BEST. FRIEND. Y’ALL. and he blows a silent air kiss to you and you blow one right back

wow

you love life

min yoongi and y/n y/l/n

b i g  d i c k  e n e r g y

yoongi joins you on one of your morning coffee runs because you spent the night at his place so he was like i might as well get coffee with u instead of u walking over here twenty minutes after we get to work

and ah

thIS is jungkook

hm

handsome guy

he can see the appeal

“morning, kook” jungkook perks up when he sees you

you turned jungkook down one morning when he plucked up the courage to ask you if you wanted to grab dinner and see a movie sometime

he was heartbroken for like one minute but when you said goodbye and gave him a tiny kiss on the cheek and told him if yoongi was out of the picture u definitely would’ve ended up with him and he was like :-)))))

the two of you are good friends and he gives you discounts sometimes

“morning, y/n! i’m guessing you’re here for the usua……l…..” and then his eyes very slowly,,, trail over to yoongi who’s standing next to you

he can feel his fiery gaze through his sunglasses

“yep!”

“throw in a cake pop. kook.” yoongi coughs and gestures to the cake pops in the display case

jungkook almost shits himself at how intimidating yoongi is

“y-yessir. right on it… sir.”

after you pay for everything and go over to wait you turn to yoongi and you’re like stop staring at jungkook you’re scaring him

and yoongi’s just like >:-) on the inside because he loves scaring people

when jungkook hands the coffee over to you his grip around the cups are so tight you’re surprised the lids haven’t popped off them

“thanks kookie” you take the paper bag from him and shove your elbow into yoongi’s side because jungkook isn’t staring at you he’s basically staring at the counter

“yeah. thanks, kookie.” yoongi offers a smirk and jungkook’s just in a state of [E N DM YS U F F E R I N G]

you give jungkook an extra large tip to make up for yoongi’s presence

even though you and yoongi are officially together that doesn’t mean you can slack off during work

and you learn this the hard way

sometimes you and jimin are too lazy to text each other so you end up calling him

he moved to a bigger cubicle thanks to you and it’s in a more ~secluded~ area because you know he works best in privacy

“oh my god jimin the other night he fucked me so hard he nearly broke my bed like i woke up this morning and i found a crack in the headboard but honestly i don’t even care because he made me cum like three times and i am so sorry but mr min’s schedule is booked up for the next week i’m afraid i can’t slot you in until next month! yes, goodbye!” you clear your throat and hang up and look up at yoongi who is currently looking down at you with a very amused smile on his face

“…hi boss” your voice cracks and you clear your throat quickly

“miss y/l/n. who was that?”

“oh,,, just some… guy… calling about a meeting… did you…. need anything?”

yoongi shrugs and shakes his head “i’ll be in my office”

but of course

because he’s yoongi

he can’t help himself and he stops before going into his office

“i made you cum four times. if you’re going to gossip at least get the details right. tell jimin to get back to work. and i’m still waiting for the revised copy of the contract that you said you’d type up an hour ago.”

maybe u and jimin should go back to texting

“i have parts of it revised but i-“

“got distracted?” yoongi’s eyes flicker towards the phone “don’t let it happen again.”

“buT jimin was the one who-“

“don’t blame other people for your own crippling procrastination.” your cheeks burn up and you let out a huff because yoongi’s turned into an asshole boss again

“pizza at my place tonight? we’ll leave at 5.” yoongi swoops down and steals a kiss from you and you’re like hoW do you go from asshole boss yoongi to boyfriend yoongi so quickly “you’re sleeping over again, by the way.”

you cup his cheeks and keep him awkwardly bent over so you can give him another soft kiss and he hums

“you owe me a new headboard, mister” you boop his nose and he swats your hands away before standing up and adjusting his tie “the main reason why i’m sleeping over is because i’m scared that if i lie down on my bed it’ll snap in half”

“you know, you could always just move into my place, baby. i want the contract in the next ten minutes or you’re working overtime.” yoongi leaves you with that comment and goD HE’S SUCH A..,.,.,., he’S SUCH a yOONGI

even before you and yoongi got together he always stressed the importance of not disrupting any of his meetings

there are a couple exceptions like that time he told you ‘you hAve to tell me when mr kim calls’ and when you did you got in trouble for it (he apologised about that and admitted - he only did it because he liked watching you get all riled up)

yoongi cut your lunch break short because he wanted you to re organize your desk (which was something that you were going to get to aFter lunch) so yA you were feeling a little salty because you were really enjoying your noodles

and yoongi’s in the middle of a meeting right now but you just came up with another exception

:-)

yoongi’s leaning back against his chair and keeping his eyes trained on the gentlemen currently talking about the stock market and recent increases and decreases

thank god he has resting bitch face all the time otherwise it’d be obvious that yoongi was boRed out of his fuckign mind

his phone buzzes on the table and the guy falters for a second but continues to speak when yoongi waves his hand

hm

interesting

it’s a text from you that just says : )

but something that’s more interesting

there’s a picture attached to the text

it’s probably just a meme you found off your Facebook feed

he should text you and tell you to get back to work

plus the guy isn’t even paying attention to yoongi he’s too busy explaining his pie charts

so yoongi technically isn’t being thAt rude

he unlocks his phone and opens the message app and

oh god

fuck

definitely not a meme

it’s a picture of u with your top unbuttoned exposing a sexy little bralette that definitely is not appropriate work wear

he didn’t see you put that on this morning whEn did youyou must’ve changed during work no wonder you took longer than usual to come back with his coffee

yoongi swallows thickly and lowers the brightness on his screen but looks back up at the presentation

he’s looking at pie charts but all he can think about is how badly he wants you over his desk

you’re slightly concerned when you see that yoongi’s left your message on read

uhHHhhHH

maybe this was a bad idea

maybe you pushed it too far this time

you were probably going to get in a lot of trouble

you’re chewing on your nails nervously but you’re like noPe i’m not going to overthink it and you set your phone down

it feels like a million years have passed when the meeting finally ends

you peek out from behind your desk when you hear yoongi walking down the hallway

and you feel a twinge of disappointment and humiliation when he walks past you and straight into his office

and then

it happens

“miss y/l/n. i’d like to see you in my office for a second.” and he has thAt look in his eye so you know you’re in a different kind of trouble

>:-)

instead of complying ur like oOf you know what i’m kind of in the middle of something i’m sorting out your-

“that was very clearly an order and not a question” and he disappears into the office and you’re just having the time of your LIFE

yoongi ends up fucking you on his desk with your skirt bunched up to your hips and your shirt completely unbuttoned so he can see this barely there bralette for himself

and you’re pretty sure he has a thing for your heels because he makes you keep them on

he has his hands pressed flat on the desk next to your head while your legs wrap themselves around his waist

“naughty baby, sending me a picture like that in the middle of a meeting���” yoongi growls and pushes your legs down and you let out a mewl at the pure pleasure coursing through your veins “say you’re sorry and i might let you cum”

“i’m- oh, god - i-i’m not sorry, though” even when you’re getting fuCked out of your mind you’re cocky and yoongi wants to fuck that smirk off your face

he delivers a particularly hard thrust that hits you right there and makes your back arch and your eyes roll to the back of your head

“i’m sorry - what was that? didn’t hear you, princess” and then he’s hitting that spot over and over and over and ovEr again and you’re gripping onto the edge of the table so hard you’re worried you’re going to snap a chunk off

“yoOngaaH! i’m s- i’m sorry i’msorryi’msorryplease i’m s so sorry” yoongi lets his head drop and he bites down on your shoulder as you claw down his back over his shirt

“good girl.”

this is like a 200 pound mahogany desk but he’s fucking you with such fervour that it begins to tremble underneath the two of you

after your mind blowing orgasm the last thing you expect is for him to turn you around and bend you over so your chest is pressed against the desk

yoongi bends down over you and you shiver when you feel his mouth against your ear

“you’re not getting away that easily” you whimper and the next thing you know yoongi is shoving his tie into your mouth to shut you up because he knoWs how loud you get when you’re overstimulated

he doesn’t bother teasing and pushes himself all the way in and lets his head drop to your back and just lets out this gutteral grOan

when you leave his office you’re all flushed and your shirt is wrinkled and buttoned wrong but yoongi isn’t any better

his hair is a mess and his shirt is mostly unbuttoned revealing the milky expanse of his chest that’s littered with splotches of your lipstick

he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in to plant a kiss on your cheek and then pats your bum and tells you to get back to work

one time you were going down on him and you freeze when you hear someone knock on the door so he makes you hide under his desk

it's jimin and he's like u..uh hey boss have u seen y/n?? i have to ask her to file this document for me but i haven't seen her anywhere

yoongi jolts when he feels you take him into your mouth again and he tangles his fingers in your hair when you start bobbing your head slowly

“sorry jimin, haven't seen her. come back in like... 20 minutes."

and jimin’s like okay yes sir and he shuts the door

after it’s all over jimin sEES YOU leaving yoongi’s office and he’s like oh y/n i was just looking for-

wait

but

but yoongi said he didn’t see you and

you were in his office and

your lipstick is smudg,,,,ed,,,,….., your hair.,,.,.., is kind of tousled,,, more tousled than usual…..

you and jimin are kind of having a stare off and you’re waiting for it to happen

and five seconds later it hits him

when he opens his mouth you slap a hand over it and you’re like i’ll buY YOUR LUNCH FOR THE NEXT WEEK just don’T SAY ANYTHING

jimin’s like no i don’t give a shit about you going down on him at work what i’M freaked out about is the fact that he seemed so calm and composed while you were sucking him off

min yoongi is a man of many talents and one of them is being able to hold a poker face for eternity

you unfortunately are not as talented at keeping it cool as your boyfriend

which is something he both loves and hates about you

tonight yoongi’s working late again which means that you have to stay late too

you don’t hAve to but,,,, you like to keep yoongi company and also being completely alone while he’s working forces you to actually do your damn job

“who are you calling?” yoongi steps out of his office and tugs his tie loose before rolling up his sleeves

“mr jung’s secretary- if he’s ever going to pick up the damn phone. i’m trying to reschedule your meeting with mr jung because it overlaps with your meeting with mr kim this coming thursday.” you don’t even look at yoongi when you speak and scribble something down on a post it note before sticking it on your wall calendar

“which mr kim?”

“the…” you pause to think “the one with the hair” you gesture to the top of your head

“…they both have hair”

“i know i know i’m saying this one is the one with the blonde- hi! hi, i’m miss y/l/n, secretary of mr min yoongi. i’m so sorry for calling so late into the night but i just needed to…”

he loves watching you work so hard

his little busy bee

yoongi grabs the arm of your chair and swivels you around so you’re facing him and you give him a look that says what do u want i’m busy

your eyes almost pop out of their sockets when yoongi drops to his knees and settles in between your legs

“of course, i can wait for a minute-“ the second the secretary puts you on hold you put a hand over the receiver (just in case he can still hear you) “yoongi, no!!”

“yoongi, yes.” your body automatically listens to him as he taps the side of your thigh for you to sit up a little so he can push your skirt up

“i’m on the phone, yoongi. you can’t do this right now just give me like three minutes” you hiss but your legs naturally spread for him and he just smirks up at you and is like mmmmm your body is telling me otherwise

you reach over and push the speaker button and then hang up the phone and thank god the secretary still has you on hold because you are using a range of very colourful words to scold your boyfriend

“i’ve called mr jung’s office before- his secretary puts you on hold for like ten minutes you’ll be fine” you don’t know how he does it but the next thing you know your panties are gone and your boss/boyfriend’s head is buried in between your legs

“oh goD yoongi please don’t stop” you whimper

his fingers dig into the meat of your thigh so he can keep your legs spread because you keep twiTCHINg

“hello?” you want to scream when the holding music turns off and the secretary comes back on

“yoongi stoP you have to stop” you gasp and arch your back against the chair and yoongi’s hand snakes up to push against your tummy

“pick up the phone and do your job” yoongi presses a kiss on your inner thigh before giving you a small nip and you thank the lords above he’s going to let you take this call first

yoongi leans back a little and fixes his hair

“hi, yes, hello” you’re a little breathless as you unmute yourself and you clear the throat

“i’m having a little trouble with the scheduling here. mr jung can only do thursday next week, otherwise i’ll have to pencil you in for next month.”

“he can’t do friday or anything?”

you give yoongi a warning look when he begins pressing a trail of warm kisses from the inside of your knee to your inner thigh

“i don’t think so.”

“when does his- oH” you nearly bite your tongue off when yoongi suddenly attaches his mouth to your clit and your fingers immediately tangle themselves in his hair

“sorry, what was that? didn’t catch you.”

“his- whendoeshislastmeetingonthursdayend??”

“uh.. hold on, let me check here…”

you bite down on the inside of your cheek and your head flops back against your chair as you focus on the ceiling and try your hardest not to moan

yoongi can’t help but smirk when the smallest of whimpers slips past your lips

it’s when hE lets out a low moan against you that you gasp loudly and your toes curl in your heels

“his last meeting ends at 6:30 that day how about mr min?”

“five forty fiVE” yoongi throws one of your legs over his shoulder and oh my goD you want to die this feels amazing and you can’t make any sounds and your body is currently telling you that hEY i’M ABOUT TO HAVE AN ORGASM

so that puts you in a panic because there’s no way you’re going to cum and have a normal conversation with a stranger so “you know what give me five minutes to reorganise mr min’s schedule and i’ll call you right back”

you hang up the call and the next thing you know you’re seeing stars and yoongi’s name keeps slipping past your lips in the form of whimpers and moans and yoongi is just soaking it aLL up

“that was a close call, no?” yoongi looks up at you from in between your legs and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand

“i hate you.”

[hailqiqi]

Sunshine and Phone Lines

I’m not dead!  I wasn’t going to write anything for Valentine’s this year (apart from a gift fic from last year) but then someone was talking about a real life situation and...tada! My first AU was born.

1,291 words of pointless fluff.

Dedicated to @cgf-kat. She knows why.

BTW, this is what my fics and titles look like when I’ve had no beta help or title help whatsoever, and only a vague notion of a fic with no ending in mind. Just a warning.

One…

Was the drumming of her fingertips on her desk bothering Nadia? A quick peek showed it wasn’t. Good. Then she could focus on trying not to bite her lip and being, y’know, normal.

Two…

For crying out loud. Her breath was in her throat, her heart was racing, and her deodorant was fighting a losing battle as the seconds dragged on. Why?!

Three…

What was taking him so long?

At twenty-five, she was way too old for this. All this heart-pounding, weak-kneed, teenage bull could go back to high school where it belonged. Katie was a professional, dammit.

Four…

She’d never even met the guy. All she had to go on was his stupid voice and it wasn’t like it was particularly sexy. Now, if he’d sounded more like Matt Mercer, Katie would be more okay with it, and at least—

“Good afternoon, Precision Assay, Accounts Division. Lance speaking.”

She did not squeak, though Nadia raised an eyebrow at the sound of her chair hitting the desk.

“Good afternoon! This is Katie from Altea R&D, how are you?”

“Katie!” The professionalism in his tone melted immediately into something that warmed her cheeks and had her sitting up straighter. “I’m doing great! Better now I’ve heard your lovely voice. How are things with you?”

“Good, good!” she replied, leaning back as the butterflies cartwheeled through her stomach. “It’s uh…—” her eyes flicked to the window across the room— “it’s nice weather we’ve been having!”

A snort from her deskmate, and Katie wanted to die. Nice weather? What the heck am I, fifty? No, even fifty-year-olds have more game than that.

Lance chuckled. “Yeah, it’s nice not to be freezing to death in February for once.”

“Right!” she agreed, much too enthusiastically, then immediately lowered her forehead to her desk as quietly as she could. What the heck was she doing?

An awkward silence followed, and Katie prayed briefly for the weather to turn so she could freeze to death on the walk home. Anything to help her forget this stupid, stupid—

“So, uh, how can I help you? Not that I don’t mind you calling to talk about the weather, but…”

“Oh! Oh, right!” Right, she was a research lead with a schedule and requirements and was calling for a reason other than talking to the stupid friendly guy from accounts. Lance waited patiently as she took a deep breath to centre herself (he was probably used to it. Ugh. He must have thought she was the world’s biggest airhead), and Katie was impressed with her professional tone when she finally spoke.

“I was just calling to inquire about our last order for the radiation chromometer. Do you have a confirmed dispatch date that you can give me?”

See? I’m an adult. Look at me being all business and not a stupid teenager with a crush.

Lance’s reply was equally business-like.

“I believe we do, but I’ll need to double-check. Hold on a moment…” The sound of tapping travelled down the line. “Ah, here we go! Everything’s confirmed on our end; you’re scheduled to receive it on the 14th February. Valentine’s Day!” He laughed, and Katie smiled weakly, even though he wouldn’t see it. “I’ll put a note for the delivery driver to call you once they’ve left the depot, so we won’t have a repeat of last time. Unless you’re taking that day off...?”

“No, no, I’ll be here,” she answered quickly, waving a hand at the phone. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

There was that blind date Hunk had set her up on with one of his friends, but she had half a mind to cancel anyway. He was probably some buff guy in a suit who sounded like Matt Mercer and Katie apparently only liked ridiculously hot men who were way too old for her (and gay) or faceless phone guys who used emojis in their business emails and sounded like they huffed helium on a daily basis.

(Apart from that one time in the morning where his voice had been all gruff and husky and oh my God—)

“So, uh,” Lance started, thankfully cutting in before she could go too far down memory lane, “I know it’s really unprofessional, and please don’t feel like you have any obligation to say yes, but, um, if you’re not doing anything that night, would you mind, uh…”

He trailed off, voice hesitant, and the realisation hit Katie like a tonne of bricks.

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

Her stunned whisper was met with a shriek from across the table.

“Oh my God, is your phone crush asking you out on a date?! No way!”

Her gaze whipped up, cheeks burning, only to find her co-worker leaning across her desk, screen pushed aside and eyes bright with glee as she unashamedly focused all of her attention on Katie’s conversation.

“Phone crush, huh?” Lance chuckled low, drawing her attention back to the phone. There was an unfamiliar smoothness to his tone, and Katie frowned. “Well if that’s the case, shouldn’t you be asking me?”

She really wanted to throttle Nadia. “I will hang up on you, Lance.”

“No! No, don’t do that!” Panic shot through his voice and she had to bite back a laugh. “But does that mean you’ll say yes? Because I gotta admit I’d really like to get to know the woman behind the snarky wit and clever e-mails.”

“Snarky wit and clever e-mails, huh?” Katie repeated, unable to keep the smile from her features. “I mean, I was meant to go out on a blind date—”

“—Oh, me too—”

“—but if it’s between a guy I don’t know or a guy I’ve never met but who’s e-mails always make me smile, I’d rather take the latter.”

“Yeah?”

Katie could hear the smile in his voice and it made her duck her head, cheeks warming. “Yeah.”

“Great! Great! So um, I guess I better give you my actual number…”

 -----

 Twenty minutes later and it turned out that Lance used more emojis in his text than in his emails and was, in fact, a decently buff guy in a suit (helium-huffing notwithstanding). Even Nadia had approved, and had taken it upon herself to help Katie pick a decent photo to send back when Katie’s phone buzzed again.

Nadia made a sound of delight and Katie lunged for the phone, swearing when the older woman side-stepped just out of her reach. “Ah-hah-hah, let’s see what Loverboy has sent… Aww, it’s from some guy named Hunk.”

Katie blinked. “Hunk? What does he say?”

“Sorry Pidge — who the heck is Pidge? — but my friend just cancelled for V-Day. I’ll see if I can set you guys up next time, and if you don’t have a date I’ll make you dinner for Galentine’s Day, ok?”

“Oh,” Katie said, letting out a sigh of relief. “Good, that means I don’t have to think of an excuse to cancel.”

She gestured for the phone and Nadia handed it over, rolling her eyes as she said, “Still. Don’t you feel like you got dumped?”

“By a guy I haven’t even met?” she asked, tabbing back to Lance’s texts, selecting the photo and hitting ‘Send’.

“Yeah! You should be cancelling on him, not the other way round.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” Her phone buzzed with his reply: can’t decide if u’re cute or beautiful or sexy or all 3. Can’t wait to meet u, either way.

Lance was cheesy, dorky and was definitely not a master of written communication, but none of that could stop the smile from stealing across her face as she re-read their short conversation. “I like the one I’ve got.”

[intothestarkerverse]

Highway to Hell Pt. 3

Summary:  Once again, I will reveal no details about the story’s plot to respect spoilers for Endgame.  If you want to read the fic, click below and have at it, though! 

Read on AO3

Part 1, Part 2

Y’know, there are times when I think that nothing can surprise me anymore. Things I’ve seen. Things I’ve done. Call me jaded, but some part of me just expects my life to go to shit from one breath to the next.

Know what?

Scratch that.

Only time I’m actually surprised by anything anymore is when my life isn’t going to shit. So, this? This doesn’t even register on my scale of ‘what the fuck’.

At least, not until I see the kid.

Last thing I remember, I was getting dressed.

Actually slept last night. You know how fucking rare that is? Rare as a funny Carrot Top joke, that’s how fucking rare. I didn’t just get a good night’s sleep, I had a good dream, too. Can’t even remember the last time I had one of those. I had a kid. In the dream. Little boy. It was a good dream.

This? I don’t know what the fuck this is.

Day to night in the blink of an eye. Bedroom to dark alley and I didn’t even see the setting shift. I’m alone and now I’m here, squatting beside Peter Parker after he looks like he’s been hit by a damn steam roller. Y’know what’s worse? I can’t even tell what the fuck happened or who the fuck I should be killing for doing this to him. Doesn’t seem like he’s going to be talking anytime soon, either.

The kid is just clinging to my hand like it’s a lifeline, trying to speak but the words just aren’t coming.

The Iron Legion isn’t responding. At least one of the suits should have arrived by now, but the night is clear and the kid won’t let go of my hand long enough for me to activate the suit from it’s nanocasing. I can’t even raise Friday, which worries me more than anything else. Even my own AI is ignoring me…

There’s a strange, hesitating movement to the way Peter gropes with his free hand. Awkward. Ungainly. Finally, after several failed attempts and barely audible whimpers of frustration, he pulls the phone from his pocket, thumbs the screen to life and thrusts it towards me all without lifting more than his arm from the cold concrete.

The first thing I notice are the number of missed calls. A few are from May. That’s to be expected. The rest, and there are quite a few of them, are from someone listed as ‘The Wizard’ in his contacts. Just as I am trying to contemplate who this Wizard is and how Peter has a friend I’ve never heard of, the phone goes off in my hand.

Harry Potter theme ringtone. Cute, Kiddo. Cute.

I tap the green phone icon and lift it to my ear. The Wizard is already speaking and I don’t like the sound of him. He’s older. Not a kid. Probably closer to my age. Why is Peter getting this many phone calls from a man old enough to be his father? And no, that’s not jealousy. That’s not what I’m calling it, cause if I call it that…whole different can of worms I don’t even want to get into right now.

“Parker? Listen, I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t what you wanted to hear right now, I wish this could have been the answer, but trust me when I say it’s for the best. Please come back to the Sanctum, or go home to May, or go stay with Dr. Banner for the night. We’re all worried sick about you and this…this isn’t helping.”

“Are you done?” I ask, waiting impatiently for the man to finish his impassioned speech which gives me a few answers, but not many. “Now, care to tell me who this is?”

“Fuck.”

I pause, pulling back the phone a little to look at the display. Yep. The bastard hung up on me. Oh well, didn’t really want to talk to him anyway. I’m in the process of calling Happy for an assist when something catches my eye a little to the left. Sparks flying in midair, slowly growing into a circle that expands and expands until I can clearly see a house through the opening and a man in a decent D&D cosplay steps through with his brow knit in concern that only gets worse when he sees me. “The Wizard, I presume.” I mean, the kid had used the term ‘Wizard’, I don’t know why I’m surprised that he actually is one.

“Take your hands off the boy.”

I don’t like the way he thinks he can just make some hocus pocus and order me around. ”Willing to bet I saw him first, so…no.” I really wish Peter would let go of my hand long enough for me to activate the armor. I could force him to, but a part of me is afraid to break the physical contact. Something is seriously wrong with Peter, but he’s calm while he’s got my hand at least. “Who the hell are you and what makes you think you think you have the right to order me away from the kid?”

The wizard seems to be thinking about something, I don’t like the way he’s looking at me, but finally he waves a hand idly and the red cape around his shoulders flies off, winding its way around Peter’s limp form and slowly, gently, lifting him off of the ground.

“What do you think you’re…”

“’The Kid’ needs medical attention. He’s in shock. I can help him…and probably answer your questions while I’m at it. Just swallow your pride for five god damn minutes and…follow me.” He turns to walk back through the portal that has failed to close behind him through our whole exchange. He’s muttering to himself, and I can’t decide if he knows I can hear him or not. “At least I know you’re not an impostor, no one could convincingly fake an ego that size.”

The Wizard is not my favorite person.

Peter needs better friends.

Although I’m not excited to follow, the cape is taking Peter and I have to agree that the kid looks like he could use a little first aid. Since none of my resources seem to be working, this one seems like my only option. Peter, at least, seems to trust the man. And he said ‘Dr. Banner’, so is he a friend of Bruce’s too? Answers sound good just about now, so I follow, still not removing my hand from Peter’s as we step from the street into a room with an antique sofa and a roaring fire. The cape deposits Peter on the sofa and remains curled around him, the corner of the cape stroking affectionately at Peter’s cheek. The kid leans his head into it, and I’m not jealous of a damn piece of outerwear either. Just so you know.

Behind us, the portal closes and I find myself in a strange house in serious need of an interior decorator. The Wizard is ignoring me beyond practically pushing me away from Peter and forcing me to drop his hands. I really dis like this guy…and the whimper that Peter lets out when he break contact threatens to pull my beating heart from my chest. The kid is cognizant, at least I think he is, because he is following the Wizard’s instructions…albeit very slowly and only after he repeats them several times in a loud tone of voice. I remain quiet, only because I want to make sure Peter is okay, and because I don’t want to distract the Wizard just yet. Besides, I’m a little interested in what is going on over there.

“Peter?” The wizard checks his heart rate, checks his pupils, makes him follow a finger and after he presses a cup of tea and honey, that he had literally conjures from thin air, into the boy’s hands and forces him to drink it down, he follows up with a few questions that Peter is able to answer hoarsely. He loses me at the first question, but can you blame me?

“What day is it?”

“August 31st, 2023.”

When the Wizard doesn’t seem to be the least bit concerned about that, I have to speak up. “Uh, Gandalf, you aren’t going to follow up on that? The kid’s way off.”

The wizard glances up at me, lips set in a frown. “And what do you think the day is, Stark?”

“April 27th, 2018. Like I said, the kid is way off.”

When I give the correct date, Peter lets out a little squawk that is at once alarming and adorable, but that is neither here nor there. At least the kid recognized the actual date when he heard it, but where he got August 2023 from is beyond me. Peter is staring at me now, though he’s squinting his eyes in a way I’ve never seen him do before.

The wizard notices too. “Where do you keep your glasses, Peter?”

“Top drawer of my desk.” Peter answers softly. “In my room. Right hand side.”

With a few hand gestures, the wizard conjures another of those portals and his hand dips inside, drawing out a pair of wire rimmed glasses that he hands to Peter. Once they are sitting on his nose, Peter stops squinting and seems to relax, at least a little. I’m glad one of us can relax, because seeing Peter needing glasses has got me pretty fucking stressed…even if the glasses do give him an endearingly nerdy air that I can kind of dig… “What happened to sense being dialed to eleven, Pete?”

Pushing his glasses up his nose, Peter swallows hard before answering. “They’re not…anymore.”

The wizard lets out a long sigh, standing up and scrubbing a hand over his face. “The date Peter gave was correct, Stark. I wish I could be more tactful, but I have a feeling that the only way I’m going to get this through your thick skull is to be blunt. You died. Peter, here, has found a way to bring you back from the dead, even though I told him that it was impossible.”

“It wasn’t impossible.” Peter’s voice, though still hoarse, has a bit more force behind it now. “You lied to me, Dr. Strange. It wasn’t impossible because he’s here, isn’t he?”

“Wait. Wait I second. I died? What did the kid do, perform really good CPR?”

‘Dr. Strange’, that can’t be his real name, gives the kid a pointed look that has Peter staring into his lap and petting a free hand over the cape. “No, Mr. Stark. You died saving the world from Thanos and the infinity stones.”

I need to sit down. Clearly, I need to sit down. The story is a long one, though they should both be glad I don’t interrupt. Between the doc and the kid, I get a mixed up version of the story, but it gives me the jist of what happened. Not all of it, I can tell they’re both leaving things out, but…I don’t have the energy or the willpower to force them both to give me more answers then they already are. “Okay, so let me get this straight. Five years ago we fought an over-sized California raisin who wanted to use a magic glove to give the universe a mullet…he succeeded, it took us five damn years to figure out how to fix it…and in the process, I had to go all martyr/messiah and die to save the universe. But now I’m here, got no idea what the hell you’re even talking about…and somehow the kid did it which is why he looks like a goldfish in a blender. That about it, Mr. Wizard?”

“Doctor Strange, and yes…more or less.”

“The part that’s tripping me up here, and it’s probably not the part you think…is where you said you were trying to help the kid out in my absence. You know, look out for him, make sure he didn’t go and do anything stupid. Cause…me sitting here after I died, and him laying there looking like a spider-smoothie, seems like something pretty stupid that you should have stopped, right? I am right about that?” At least the doc doesn’t seem to be attempting to justify the shitty way he’s been looking after my Peter. “Okay, so how am I here, then, Kid? What did you do?” Nothing good, I can bet on that.”

“I made a deal with the devil.”

I don’t even have time to respond over the doc’s loud string of curses which he follows immediately with two quick questions. “What devil? Did he give you a name?”“There’s more than one?” Peter took the words right out of my mouth.

“Several, in fact. Did he give you a name, Peter?”

“He gave me the ‘word of Mephisto’.”

Okay, a part of me feels like I should be covering the kid’s ears. This language is a bit much, even for me, and I’ve never been accused of going light on the swear jar. “Who is Mephisto?” Obvious, question, I know, but someone has to ask it.

The doc turns on me now, almost as if he forgot I was even there. That doesn’t happen too often, let me tell you.

“He’s an extradimensional entity, built an entire dimension and persona based upon Earthly superstitions to portray himself as a devil and make deals with unsuspecting mortals.” Now I’m being ignored again, but I don’t mind, because the doc’s next question is exactly what I want to ask myself. “What did you have to give him, Peter?”

I think I already know. I hope I’m wrong. I gotta be wrong…

“My powers.”

Fuck.

“Fuck.” Well, Mr. Wizard and I are in agreement about this, at least. “Exact wording, Peter. What did you give him and what did you get in return? Wording is important.”

“I gave him my powers as of tonight…not like the bite never happened and stuff got undone, and I got Mr. Stark like he was the morning before the Black Order attacked not after when he might have been injured like he was on Titan or by the stones.”

“The morning of April 27th, 2018, that explains why he doesn’t remember me or the last five years…he hasn’t lived any of it.”

No wonder the kid needs glasses. No wonder he’s been acting strange. The kid gave up everything for me? “Why, Peter?” It’s the only thing I can think, the only question I have at that moment. “Why would you do something so…so stupid? Kid, I’m not worth that.”

“You are.” Peter argues, trying to rise from the couch but being pushed back by the cape. “You’re worth more than my powers, even. I would have given him my soul to get you back. I would have given him anything he wanted. For you…I’d give up anything.”

I don’t doubt that,and therein lies the problem.

Doctor Strange gives the boy a pitying look, turning another kind of gaze on me. Disapproval, perhaps? Something else, I can’t tell. No idea what the kid has told him since I died, but he must have told him something juicy because the Doc is calling the cape back to his shoulders. “I’m going to call Mrs. Parker and let her know that Peter is all right.

You two…probably have things you want to discuss in private.”

I really want to tell him not to leave me alone with the kid. I can’t. I don’t, but I want to. I’ve never known anyone willing to sacrifice so much for me before. Somehow, it doesn’t surprise me that it’s Peter doing the sacrificing. That kid loves with his whole heart, and all I ever really wanted was to be at the receiving end of it.

Now that I am, I feel like I’m the one going to hell…