#it's not great looking at the past through that angle especially since my leaving everyone behind has resulted in more good than bad

[gu6chan]

ended up reading old discord convos when looking through the deleted accounts in my DMs and ngl putting aside how willingly gullible i let myself be back then it's crazy how different things could have been if i didn't make friends with like literally one person goddamn 😭

[hqbbg]

clean.

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x fem!reader

prompt: “guess I'll just have to cum inside you.”

genre: smut

word count: 3.8K

warnings: 18+, masturbation, slight degradation, blowjob, some spanking, fingering, orgasm denial, vaginal s3x, creampie, this is legit just filth so please read at your own discretion

author’s note: this is my contribution to the Haikyuu!! Headquarters server collab! Find the masterlist of a bunch of other great writers here 💖 hope you enjoy!

A soft hiss slips past Sakusa’s lips as he tightens his grip around the base of his cock. He slides his hand up his girth and uses his thumb to collect some of the beading precum to smear around the bulbous head, biting his lip to not make too much noise.

He knows he shouldn’t be doing this, practically disgusted with himself because of the situation he’s placed himself in, but he couldn’t resist.

You’d asked him to accompany you to visit your parents for one week, which meant it was the first time he would meet them in person. Sure, he’s spoken with them whenever you’d call them, but he wanted to do his best to leave a good impression on them for their first time seeing him in person. It was their idea to let the two of you stay at their home to avoid spending money on finding a hotel and whatnot—not that Sakusa would’ve even considered staying in such a filthy and public place—but that meant that the two of you would be spending practically every hour of the day with your parents during the week-long trip. This also meant that the only true alone time was at night before bed, although your parents’ bedroom was right down the hall, so it wasn’t the amount of privacy that Sakusa would have liked.

It was your last evening with them, so your parents had offered to take the two of you out to a fancy dinner, having made reservations and everything. You were both told to dress appropriately for the upscale restaurant, which was something you must’ve known about beforehand because you had packed a clean, white dress shirt and a pair of black slacks for him and a fiery red dress for yourself that he didn’t recognize.

Sakusa was by no means addicted to sex, but the moment he had seen you slip into the dress, he had wanted to rip it right off. The way it hugged every dip and curve of your body just made you look absolutely ravishing and the heels you’d paired with it were icing on the cake. Had it not been for your parents calling the two of you to hurry to avoid missing your reservation, he might’ve just taken you then and there.

The dress proved to be an issue throughout the rest of the night, starting with the way you’d swayed your hips with every step you’d taken in it. Sakusa found himself having a harder time maintaining his composure as the night progressed, especially when your hand kept brushing his thigh under the table which made it hard for him to focus on whatever story your parents were telling, travelling higher and higher with every couple of laughs shared at the table. He even had to subtly grab your wrist to keep your fingers from grazing dangerously close to his twitching cock.

It was moments like these that he had wished he could wear his face mask; he would be able to cover his face and not look as suspicious as he did now.

He had watched you from his peripherals, the way you were licking your spoon clean of the dessert your family had ordered for the table and the only thing he could think about was wanting your lips around his growing erection. He might’ve imagined it, but he also could’ve sworn that he saw your eyes flicker to him and your lips quirk into a smirk.

You knew exactly what you were doing and were clearly enjoying yourself too much.

He had to excuse himself from the dinner table before the check arrived and practically ran from the table, internally appreciating the fact that the restaurant had a single-use bathroom. He was quick to lock the door and undo his belt and pants, freeing his throbbing cock from its restraints and stood over the toilet.

He’s repulsed by the idea of touching any surface in this bathroom, no matter how nice it seems, but he knows that if he doesn’t take care of this issue now, it’ll only pose a problem later.

Sakusa’s pace is unforgiving as he spits into his own hand to help it move more smoothly up and down his cock. He closes his eyes and thinks of you, what it would be like if you were to be in this bathroom with him.

He thinks about the way you had slowly dragged your tongue along the dip of your spoon and bites his lip, wanting you to do the same to him from the base of his cock to the tip. You’d probably do it to tease him before dragging your tongue along his slit, coating him in your drool. You always like to kiss the red tip before wrapping your lips around it, swirling your tongue around as you pull your head back and release him with a ‘pop!’

He can practically see behind his closed lids the look you’d have on your face, grinning mischievously up at him as you wrap your nimble fingers around him and giving him a few generous pumps before leaning forward again to try and swallow him whole. Your fingers would grip and massage his balls, always earning the same reaction of him wanting to grip your hair and push you further down, relishing in your whines and moans whenever you’d feel him at the back of your throat.

Sakusa’s eyes flutter open and he’s breathing heavily as he watches his own hand squeeze and tug his cock—your cock.

He can feel his orgasm nearing and he continues to hiss and moan your name under his breath. Just as he feels that he can see the light at the end of the tunnel, there’s a knock on the door.

“Hey, Omi? Are you in there?”

He can’t stop, he needs to finish, he needs to finish—

“You’ve been in there for a while. Is everything okay? My parents wanted me to check up on you.”

Sakusa slows himself down, bitterly reminded that he has people waiting on him.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” he says, feeling frustrated that the moment is lost. He had been so close yet so far.

“Are you okay?” you ask once he steps out of the bathroom. His cheeks are flushed, and he looks upset.

He glances around the area for a moment before looking at you and grabbing your hand, guiding it to the pressing matter that is straining against his pants. He can see your eyes widen with realization and feels his lips twitch at the fact that you have the audacity to give him a squeeze through his fabric.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hisses as he moves your hand away.

“I should be asking you that,” you tease him with a small smirk, indicating that you knew exactly what you’ve been doing all night, much to Sakusa’s frustrated dismay.

“Let’s just get back to your parents,” he grumbles. You do your best to conceal your giggle as the two of you walk back towards the dinner table. Sakusa tries to walk at an angle so his erection is hidden from plain sight behind you and the two of you arrive back at the table.

“Oh, there you are! Is everything alright?”

Sakusa nods, not wanting to be disrespectful, but finds it hard to focus his thoughts on anything but the idea of taking you tonight.

“Kiyoomi’s not feeling very well,” you say.

“Oh, it was probably something in that appetizer. I haven’t been feeling very good myself since we ate that.”

“Let’s hurry home then.”

Music to Sakusa’s ears.

Ever the gentleman, he holds the door open for you and you give him a sickeningly sweet and innocent smile as you slide into the backseat. He follows you in shortly and is relieved that it’s dark in the small compact space as the car begins to move.

He tries to ignore you as you slide yourself snug next to him, pressing yourself against him with every turn the car makes. You have your eyes fixed on the road ahead, but your hand finds its way onto Sakusa’s thigh once again. You feel his muscles tense under your fingers, and you try to resist the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. He looks as if he’s holding his breath and has one hand gripping the armrest on the door while the other holds your wrist. You glance at him innocently and the look in his eyes is dangerous.

Your attention is averted when your parents ask a question and you casually reply, retracting your hand back to yourself. Sakusa visibly relaxes for a few moments and you try not to laugh.

As your parents continue to converse with the both of you, you take advantage of this time and slide your hand between his legs as he answers a question about his occupation, giving his still very erect cock a squeeze. His voice cracks and he quickly tries to recover by coughing and clearing his throat, both your parents stifling giggles as you yourself try not to burst out laughing.

His fingers are wrapped around your wrist again as he jerks it away. He leans in towards you and you do your best not to shiver upon feeling his hot breath fan against your neck.

“Just wait until we get home,” he all but growls lowly in your ear. You can practically feel the heat radiating off his body before he pulls back and sits up in his seat, keeping his grip firm around your wrist for the rest of the car ride home.

When the car finally arrives in front of the house, Sakusa does his best to remain polite yet feels his patience running thin when you take your time chatting with your parents about something that he had been too distracted to pay attention to earlier. He shifts uncomfortably as everyone gets out of the car and moves to the front door at an achingly slow pace, feeling anxious to hurry and get inside.

Unfortunately, the torture for him doesn’t end there, as you choose to stay in the living room and chat for a little longer about something he knows can be held another time. You do a good job of positioning yourself in front of him, so your parents are still blissfully unaware of the bulge in his pants and keep their focus on you until you finally bid your parents goodnight.

The walk to your shared bedroom is short, but you take your time, knowing that Sakusa is probably ready to snap at any moment. He proceeds to prove you right as you step into your bedroom and he’s quick to follow you in. Before you can even say or do anything, you feel him grip your wrist and pull you back, turning around to push you against the door, causing it to slam shut. Your eyes widen on instinct and you feel his calloused fingers wrap around your neck as he leans in close.

“You think you’re so cute acting like that in front of your parents, huh?”

You resist the whimper bubbling in your throat as you look up at him, his eyes dark as he stares you down.

“If you want to be a slut, then get on your knees and act like one,” he growls and releases your throat. You do little to protest, sliding down the door and getting on your knees as you were told. A familiar heat begins to burn between your legs.

Little time is wasted in unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his slacks as you use nimble fingers to quickly free him of his cloth prison. You feel your mouth water at the strained outline of his bulging cock through the darkness of his boxers and yank the fabric down to let it all pool at his feet. The hardened length practically springs to life and you waste no time in gripping it and giving it a few pumps before wrapping your lips around it.

Sakusa throws his head back at the warmth of your mouth and bites his lip, knowing that if he’s too loud, your parents might hear. He hangs his head back forward and watches as you gingerly suck on him, cheeks hollowing out as you use your hand to grip and squeeze what doesn’t fit in your mouth. He rakes his fingers through your hair, gripping a handful in the back to roughly push you deeper. You try not to gag and choke at the sudden pressure, feeling tears sting your eyes as he holds you there for a few seconds. When his grip loosens, you pull your head back and gasp for air, feeling a thin string of saliva connect your lips to his cock. Your eyes flicker up and you instantly feel another surge of warmth between your legs at the sight of Sakusa’s half-lidded eyes, parted lips, and pink cheeks.

Your fingers make their way to his balls and massage them, and you drag your tongue along the underside of his cock from the base to the tip. The wet muscle drags along the ridges, tracing a particularly thick vein.

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath. “This is what you wanted all along, huh, you little slut?”

You continue to bob your head, humming in response as he grunts at the vibrations. You can feel that he’s close as he rocks his hips to match your pace, gripping a fistful of your hair again to force more of himself down your throat.

“I’m getting close,” he grits through his teeth as his pace quickens. Tears are once again prickling your eyes, threatening to spill over as he roughly fucks into your mouth. “You’re gonna swallow my cum like the good little cock slut you are, got it?”

You can barely even whimper in response before he holds your head still and you can feel his essence shoot down your throat. You swallow everything you can, swirling your tongue around his length to lick any remnants away until he practically jerks your head away from him. Your lips release him with a ‘pop!’ sound and he hisses at how sensitive he is. You wipe some of the excess that’s dribbled down your chin and look up at him, trying to keep your coughing at a minimum.

“Get on the bed.”

He stands back a little to give you enough room to stand and you quickly shuffle your feet towards the bed, trying to recover while ignoring the subtle soreness developing in your throat. You sit down on the edge and watch him as he begins to unbutton his shirt, your eyes slowly trailing down his broad chest to his cock that’s still standing tall and proud.

He must’ve been really pent up.

You sit in eager anticipation of what he’ll do next, unable to tear your eyes away from his as he finishes unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off. He tosses it aside and leans down so he’s at eye level with you.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard tonight,” he says, “but your parents might hear us, so you have to be quiet, okay?”

You nod.

“Good,” he says, straightening himself. You can’t help but feel slightly disappointed, having hoped that he would at least kiss you. “Turn around on all fours.”

His voice is husky, and you simply do as you’re told, climbing slightly higher up on the bed in the position he wants you in. You feel the bed dip with his added weight and turn your head slightly to see what he’s doing. He admires your backside for a moment before lifting your dress up and hooking his fingers onto the hem of your panties. He roughly pulls them down and nearly rips them in the process, but before you can even say anything in protest, a large palm lands firmly against your exposed flesh. You yelp in surprise and he looks at you with a quirked brow.

“I said to be quiet, didn’t I?”

“Sorry,” you bite your lip as he tugs your panties down your legs. You lift one leg at a time until he’s able to fully remove them, expecting him to simply toss them aside. To your surprise, he reaches forward and shoves your panties into your mouth.

“That’s better,” he grunts with a smirk on his lips. You probably shouldn’t feel as aroused as you are at this commanding side of Sakusa.

You feel a thick finger swipe upwards against your slick folds and you whimper as he examines his glistening fingertip. You want to say something, but feel two digits abruptly insert themselves in and you’re suddenly glad you have something to muffle the moan that’s ripped from you.

His pace is quick and rough, and you bite down harder on the fabric in your mouth as your back arches, your head hanging low. You use one hand to rub at your clit, only finding momentary relief until Sakusa ministers another slap against your ass.

“Did I say you could touch yourself, you fucking whore?”

You shake your head and remove your hand, bringing it back to its original position. You grip the sheets in your fists as you feel his fingers curl and reach a particularly deep spot within you, making it very hard for you to keep quiet. You lean forward onto your elbows and bury your face into the sheets, feeling that you will be too loud otherwise.

Just as you feel your first orgasm approaching, Sakusa removes his fingers and you’re left clenching around nothing. You lift and turn your head to look behind you in frustration, though you’re not left frustrated for long.

Sakusa positions the fat tip of his cock in front of your hole and slides in without warning, warranting an immediate and loud moan from you. Your underwear falls from your mouth and your eyes practically roll to the back of your head as you’re filled to the brim with him. You can feel a rough hand grip your hip while the other finds its way around your throat. He pulls you up so your back is pressed against his chest and you want to turn your head to kiss him, but he quickly attaches his lips to your neck, sucking and nibbling against your sweet spot. You’re quick to tilt your head to give him easier access, one hand reaching behind you to grab Sakusa’s hair, weaving your fingers through his thick curls, while the other grips at his arm as it moves between your legs and finally touches the sensitive bundle of nerves. He rubs rough circles as his hips continue to snap against yours and you’re racing to the finish line that is your orgasm.

He begins to whisper dirty things into your ear, calling you his good little cumslut and you clamp your hand over your mouth to quiet your moans, though you’re sure it’s ineffective. The sound of skin slapping against skin combined with the overwhelming pleasure muddles your senses and the only thing you can think of is how good Sakusa feels inside of you. After a few more rough thrusts, you feel your walls clamp down as your orgasm washes over you.

Sakusa slows down, finding it increasingly harder to maintain his rhythm as your velvet walls tighten around him and he knows he won’t last much longer. He decides to pull out, however, letting you go, and sitting back. Your muscles are shaky as you look at him, confused and fucked out.

“I didn’t cum yet,” he says simply, tilting his head slightly as he leans back against his palms on the bed. You bite your lip, understanding his implications and crawl over to him on your wobbly arms and legs. You throw your leg over him so you’re straddling him, placing one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself while the other grips his throbbing cock to position at your dripping entrance.

You slowly lower yourself down, whimpering at the sensitivity until he’s fully sheathed within you. You place both of your hands on his shoulders and bury your face into his neck as you slowly rock your hips, rotating them every so often. Sakusa lifts his hands to finally unzip your wrinkled dress and you tiredly lift your arms so he can lift the fabric over your head, leaving you completely bare before him. As you continue to rotate your hips lazily, he palms your breasts and looks up at you. You finally take this chance to press your lips against his, having wanted to do this all night and wrap your arms around his neck as you feel his tongue push past your lips. You entangle your fingers through his hair again and moan against his lips as he pinches your pebbling nipples, eventually sliding his hands down the dip and curve of your waist to your hips. He helps guide you as you move up and down, his hips meeting you halfway.

He’s not as rough as he’s been, knowing how overstimulated you already are, though his hips begin to move faster. It eventually gets to a point where you have no choice but to bury your face into his neck to stifle your moans as he holds your hips still and simply thrusts upwards against them. You feel another orgasm quickly approaching and know that this time, Sakusa is right there with you.

“Fuck, baby,” he hisses. “I’m gonna cum.”

“We can’t get my parents’ sheets dirty,” you pant as you lift your head slightly.

“Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you,” he grunts as he begins to pick up the pace. You bite your lip as another wave of pleasure begins to crash over you, consuming you completely. Not too long after, you feel Sakusa begin to shoot ropes cum inside of you, painting your insides white. He finds your lips quickly and kisses you to let you swallow his moans, slowing his movements to an eventual stop.

The two of you sit there, panting heavily in your post-sex glow. You slowly lift yourself off, wincing at the oversensitivity while Sakusa carefully moves to the edge of the bed.

“Where are you going?” You ask as you watch him stand.

“We’re all sweaty, so we have to shower now,” he replies, beginning his trek towards the bathroom. He turns when he realizes you’re still awkwardly positioned on the bed to not let any of his cum spill out of you and onto the sheets. “Well, are you coming?”

“I can’t feel my legs,” you frown slightly.

“If you were good, I wouldn’t have had to be so rough. You can make it up to me in the shower.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

[tobesoalive]

r u mine? (Jake Kiszka x reader)

hey guys...so this was fun to write, thank you to the kind anon who requested it! I currently have some fun (and steamy) Josh stuff in the works right now, but still feel free to send in requests! I might slow down a little with posting since my classes started, but I promise to get to every request! Enjoy my first Jake piece!

Warnings: SMUT(oral f-recieving, fingering, penetrative sex)

Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you headed down the hallway backstage, about to go out and face the crowd of thousands of fans. No you weren't a huge famous musician or anything, just their photographer. Basically the same thing right?

For the past three weeks you had been enjoying life on the road, it had always been your dream to be a concert photographer, and your work had caught the attention of a little band called Greta Van Fleet. Well, not exactly little. Their fan base grew everyday and now they were doing yet another headlining tour that they asked you to document. Over the past few months you had been in contact with the guys and their management, and you guys hit it off instantly, they brought you under their wing as if you were part of the family.

You basically were all one big family, you had gotten extremely close to the boys. Josh, Sam and Danny were like your brothers, and Jake...he was a little different.

Brother would be an odd way to describe him, seeing as you had a bit of a crush on him. Nothing super serious, you just thought he was a cool guy who also happened to be really fucking hot. You thought he might have a little something for you too, he was always asking you how you liked the show, and when he’d catch you editing the photos you took he’d sit himself right next to you and ask if you’d show him what you were working on. He was constantly complimenting your work, but that would mostly be in private, when he’d seek you out if he couldn’t sleep. You surely weren’t complaining, you enjoyed his company. You just wish he would say something, or even better, make a move. You could be taking his actions the wrong way, he does have tons of women who want him all around the country, maybe he does just think of you as a sister. Whatever thoughts you had about Jake you’d just push to the back of your mind, you had a job to do, and your work was more important than getting laid.

You went in front of the barricade and took some photos of the crowd and talked to fans. They liked to ask you questions about the guys and what it was like touring with them. You always tried to make them feel special by saying how thankful the guys were, which wasn’t a lie, to have such amazing fans.

All of a sudden you heard some of the fans start screaming wildly. They were chanting Jake’s name, and you turned your head only to briefly meet his eyes from the side of the stage where he was standing. Within a second he was gone, most likely rushing backstage to avoid any further commotion from the audience.

What was that all about? You thought to yourself. Did he sneak over there to just look at me? Maybe he wanted to talk or something. That can happen later, it was only a few minutes until the show started, so you wanted to snap a few more shots of the crowd before running all over during the show to catch the right angles.

During the show you had a great time, as per usual. You loved being right up front, taking photos of the guys doing what they loved. You went backstage to get some photos from the wings. Jake was about to do his signature move, playing his guitar behind his head, and you were ready to capture the moment. Right as you snapped the photo, Jake turned and winked at you, arms thrown behind his head, somehow managing to play the notes of “Highway Tune” whilst flirting with you.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, and you felt an intense need for him. Quickly you ran back out to the front of the stage to capture a few more moments before the show was over.

“God fucking dammit, I’m in deep” you muttered to yourself, before heading to the green room to congratulate the guys on the awesome show. You slipped through the crew heading on stage to clean up the equipment, turning a corner and bumping directly into Jake.

“Oh sorry! Great job out there tonight!” you say, trying your best not to blush. What was wrong with you, it was like you were a school girl or something.

“Thanks y/n! Did you get some good shots?”

“No, I made sure to get really shitty photos, especially of you”

“Are you being sarcastic?! Now that is something new!” he teased you.

“I just know how much you enjoy my sense of humor! I like to give back to the fans y’know” you quip back, causing him to break out into a smile.

“Hey the guys and quite a bit of the crew is gonna head out and probably find a bar or something once we’re done cleaning up. You wanna join?”

“Thanks for the offer, but I might just keep it lowkey tonight, I’d prefer to edit the photos tonight so I can explore whatever city we’re going to tomorrow.”

“Totally understandable, well I’ll catch you later!”

“Yeah for sure!” you say as you go off to find the rest of the guys.

After about a half hour of chatting and checking in with the rest of your tour mates, you decided it was time to change into your pajamas and spend the rest of the night staring at your computer screen, trying to edit as many photos as you can before inevitably passing out.

Getting onto the bus you shared with some other crew members, you kicked your Vans off before checking to see if anyone else was around. Seems like they all were opting to go out after the show, which meant you got the whole place to yourself. You traded out your concert outfit for a pair of shorts and a hoodie, getting prepared for your lengthy editing session.

You made yourself at home on the couch towards the front of the bus, turning on your speaker and playing music as loud as you wanted, getting straight to work.

It had felt like only a minute when you heard a knock on the door, but after checking your clock you realized an hour had already gone by. You peeked out the window only to see Jake’s figure standing there.

“Jacob! What’s up? I thought you were going to the bar?” you said as you opened the door to let him in.

“That show wore me out”

“Yeah you did amazing, I mean like you usually do” you say, stumbling over your words and internally punching yourself. God you were not smooth at all.

“Seems like we are some of the very few who decided to stay back, I was getting lonely in that tour bus.”

“Well you’re always welcome here, I was just doing some editing.”

“Wow you’re a pretty big nerd aren’t you? You know you should take a break every once and a while, I feel like you’re constantly working.”

“Well it’s not that hard when you love your job” you tell him.

“I guess that's true, can I see what you’re working on?”

“Yeah of course” you say while making your way back to the couch, Jake plopping down next to you.

“Damn that’s fucking awesome” he remarks, looking at the image on your screen. It’s the one of him playing the guitar behind his head, and winking right at you.

“I know! Thanks for being such a good model” you tell him with a small laugh.

“The guys and management are really impressed with your work. We’ve already been talking about having you come on the European leg of the tour with us.”

“Are you for real?!” you ask in awe, giddy with excitement. You absolutely loved this job and the people, and the thought that you could travel the world to do it was a dream come true.

“Yeah, don’t tell anyone though, I don’t want to get my ass beat for it.”

“Oh my god Jake I could literally kiss you!” you exclaimed, before you had even realized what you said.

You tried your best to play it off before your thoughts were interrupted by Jake’s voice.

“I wish you would”

“Huh” you stop for a second before turning to face him.

“Listen y/n, I think you’re really cool, and you also happen to be really hot. Sorry, maybe I was interpreting things wrong. I just thought if you felt the same it might be fun. It doesn’t have to be anything serious, I just get lonely on the road and -”

Before he could say another word, you took it upon yourself to answer his question, leaning in to capture his lips in a soft kiss. You pull back and look him in the eyes, closing your laptop and setting it on the counter.

“God I’m glad you finally said something, I think everyone was starting to sense the sexual tension” you grin at him.

“Well all I could think about on stage was fucking your brains out, so sorry if I’m not too great at hiding it” he says before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for another kiss, to which you open your mouth to let his tongue slip in.

You move yourself so that you’re straddling his lap, your lips moving perfectly in rhythm as Arctic Monkeys played softly in the background.

“Wow it seems like you were almost expecting this to happen” he teases you.

“Shut up and fuck me Kiszka” you say before he flips you so you’re now beneath him.  

His fingers find their way under your shirt, reaching up to cup your breast. He pinched your nipple before quickly tugging at the hem of your sweatshirt.

“Can this come off?” he breathed into your mouth.

“Yes please” you said before he pulled it off you, exposing your bare chest to him. You felt very self conscious, it had been a little while since you had gotten naked with anyone.

“Hey don’t be shy, you’re gorgeous” he said before connecting your lips once more before he stood up to remove his shirt and shorts, leaving him in a pair of boxer briefs. You tried your best to not look at his growing bulge, but it was hard to resist.

Suddenly he was kneeling on the ground, body in between your spread legs.

“Jake you really don’t have to” “Oh trust me, I want to, '' he says before running his fingers up and down over your clothed core, moving his fingers to the waistband of your shorts, pulling your panties down with them.

“God you’re so fucking sexy” he mutters before expertly pressing the pad of his thumb onto your clit, his other hand pushing on your thigh to keep your legs spread.

“Fuck, Jake, I need more” you groan, your arousal now dripping between your folds.

“Don’t worry baby girl, I’ve got you”

Those words alone probably could have made you cum, but then Jake entered a finger into you, causing your hands to tangle in his long hair, slightly pulling.

“Goddamn babe you’re tight” he said, looking at you in awe before adding another finger and leaning down to toy your clit with the tip of his tongue. His fingers were pumping in and out of you at a steady rhythm, and every so often he’d curl them to perfectly hit your g-spot.

“Jake you need to stop or else I’m gonna cum” you say as you pull his head back, looking him in the eyes.

“That’s okay” he reassures you.

“No, when I cum I want it to be around you” you say.

“Fucking hell y/n” he groans out in a raspy voice.

You get up and kiss him before pushing him down on the couch, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. You tug at the waistband, and he lifts his hips up to assist you. You took a moment to admire his length before wrapping your hand around it. He was a couple inches above average, with a nice girth to him. His head tipped back in bliss as you continued to give him a few more strokes before positioning yourself above him, running his tip back and forth across your slit. Slowly, you sank yourself down onto him, taking as much of him in as you could.

“Fuck fuck fuck Jake, you’re really fucking big” you breath out, only able to fit about half of him in you at this angle.

“Just do what you can baby” he says before softly pressing a kiss on your forehead, telling you that it was okay.

You started moving yourself up and down on him as best you could, starting to adjust more to his size. The stretch burned but slowly started turning more pleasurable.

After a few minutes your legs were starting to hurt and his length slipped out of you.

“Will you fuck me from behind?” you blurt out, sweat running between the valley of your breasts.

“I’d be honored” Jake responds, offering a smile before getting up.

He moves you so that your hands are on the back of the couch, holding you steady and your knees rest on the edge of the sofa, sticking your ass out towards Jake. You can hear him move behind you, hands finding their way to your ass, before you feel him run his tip up and down your slit once again.

“Ready?” he asks.

You nod in response and instantly feel him push his way into you, letting you adjust for a second before pushing the rest of his length in you.

“Oh my fucking god Jake” you say as you bury your head in the couch cushions, his dick hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know was there.

“Oh god you’re doing so good baby girl, taking all of my cock.” he says as he begins to pump in and out of you, starting off slow but gradually picking up the pace.

It feels amazing, better than you had imagined. You wanted him to stay in you forever, make you see stars all the time. Within a minute you were contracting around him, nearing your edge.

“Jake I’m almost there, please faster”

“Me too baby, me too” he says as he starts thrusting even faster than before, wrapping his arm around you to toy with your clit.

All it takes is a few more pumps and you can feel him explode inside you, groaning your name loudly and leaning over your back, but still circling your clit with his fingers. It’s enough to bring you to your peak, walls contracting around him, burying your head in your arms. Once you’ve both come down you stay in that position for a minute, before he pulls out of you and collapses on the couch, pulling you into his chest.

“That was way better than I imagined” he breathes out, hand stroking your hair.

“Oh so you’ve thought about this before? That's embarrassing” you say in a sarcastic tone.

“Hey I’m sure you aren’t so innocent yourself” he says smiling down at you.

“We should probably get dressed, I’m sure your brothers and the other goons will be stumbling in anytime now.” you tell him as you get up and search for your clothes.

“You’re probably right. Hey, let's do this again sometime” he says, cheeks going red.

“Hmm...I’ll see if I can fit you into my schedule” you respond, giving him a quick wink.

These next few months surely were going to be an adventure, and you didn’t want to miss a second.

[fanmoose12]

Have you ever done like a high school aged au except Levi and Hanji are penpals?

so levihan here aren't exacty penpals and it's a high school!au, but this idea has been living in my head ever since i received your ask so i hope you enjoy this fic, anon, because i dedicate it to you <333

As cliche as it sounded, but Hange never thought that her life was gonna be this way.

When she finished her journalistic degree, when she graduated from university on top of the class, everyone kept saying, "A bright future is ahead of you, Zoe. The whole world is at your fingertips..."

And Hange had believed them, Hange had expected it too. Uncovering the truth, saving people with the might of her words, making the world a better place one article at a time. Hange couldn't wait to get started and make her dream come true.

And then...

And then every serious newspaper turned her application down, not ready to give a chance for someone with a lot of skills and even more brains, but not enough experience, and then her pride got in the way, and so she didn't wish to settle for some local, small newspaper, refusing to waste her degree and years of hard work on some mediocrity.

And now, here she is - working as an advice columnist for Sina's Gossip.

Not a place Hange ever thought she'd end up at. Not a place she would have ended up at, if she had a choice. But she didn't have that choice, had taken it away herself when she refused offers from more respectable newspapers and didn't get a job at the place she had aimed for.

The magazine isn’t large, small enough for Hange not to know about it at all prior to receiving the job offer. She wouldn't have looked at that job offer twice, would have dismissed it immediately after seeing the name Sina's Gossip written on top, but as chance had it, she scrolled through the letter and saw the name at the end.

Erwin Smith.

The Erwin Smith, a local star who had disappeared from public eye some years ago. And now Hange knew where he had gone to.

He was only in his thirties, and already made a name for himself after he uncovered a conspiracy at the local pharmaceutical company. Just like Hange, perhaps even more so, he had a bright future ahead of him. But suddenly he quitted his job and founded his own magazine.

Hange would be lying if she said she wasn't at the very least a little bit intrigued at Erwin's sudden change of course.

That's why she agreed to a meeting with him. And that was her mistake.

Because Erwin turned out to be handsome, intelligent and charming to the point of ridiculousness. He smiled, spoke a few flattering words and next Monday Hange was already on her way to Sina's Gossip, where she started off as a mere copy editor.

It's been three years since that fated meeting, and Hange is still here, now promoted to an advice columnist. And, despite it not being what she dreamed of, despite working at a gossip magazine she used to despise... She likes it here.

She likes the people she works with, and she likes people she works for.

The letters people send her, asking for an advice or sharing their grievances, Hange likes them too. Enjoys reading them again and again, mulling over each word, looking at presented problem from each angle and doing her best to come up with the best advice possible.

Perhaps it's a simple wishful thinking or whispers of an ego she still hasn't lost, but Hange likes to think she helps these people. Solves their problems, guides them through trying times. Or brightens their day, at least.

She's not saving the world like she dreamt of, but she's making it a better place - or strives to, at least. Sometimes people she helped write her again, thanking for kind and wise words. Hange takes huge pride in that. The job pays well, enough for her to rent a small apartment and live comfortably, but it's these sincere words of gratitude that she treasures the most.

And what makes her hold onto her position in Sina's Gossip even more is the people that work alongside her. Erwin is a kind, if a little dorky man. And he gathered a team of similar people. They're all experts in their respective fields too, Erwin went through great lengths to get them all aboard.

When Hange just started working, the prospect of meeting new people made her more than a little bit nervous. As much as she liked other people and enjoyed getting to know them, getting along, truly belonging somewhere was always a problem for her. Too loud and too weird, she was usually an outcast.

But not at Sina's Gossips.

There, almost right from the beginning, ever since she walked through the glass sliding doors and met a tall man who started sniffing her, she knew she would feel right at home.

In the end, she wasn't wrong. The employees of Sina's Gossips became colleagues, then friends and then family.

She loves them all, even the grumpy midget who opens the door to her office without knocking, his face showing no ounce of friendliness or joy.

But— he's holding a cup of coffee in his hands, and even if Hange were truly annoyed, she'd forgive him just for that.

"Four-eyes," he says, a greeting and complaint at the same time. Hange lets it slide too. Levi hands her the paper cup with coffee, and it's still hot, almost burning her fingers. Lifting the cup to her lips proves that the coffee is black with three sugars, just as Hange always takes it. For that, she's ready forgive Levi any possible sin. "Are you neglecting your work once again?"

"No," that is an offence worth pouting, and Hange does exactly that. She wasn't neglecting anything, how could he even think about it. She's just been staring in the distance for... Hange glances at the clock on her computer screen... For almost ten minutes now.

Alright, maybe, Levi wasn’t completely wrong about that one. Not that Hange will ever admit it to him.

“Did you check the letters I send to you then?”

Hange blinks, a little startled. Letters? It’s the letters day already?

Another quick glance to her computer screen tells her that yes, it’s Tuesday and the letters day already.

Levi takes a seat at the other side of her desk with an irritated grumble. “I sent them to you last night, you ass.”

Hange snickers at the profanity. For an editor, Levi possesses a surprisingly foul mouth.

“I’m checking them now,” she bites her lip, opening the mail. Right beneath advertisements and notifications from her social media, there is a letter from Levi, just as he said there would be. Hange opens it, downloading the archive. As soon as she clicks on it, her eyes light up in anticipation. She starts scrolling down, swiftly going over each letter.

A father who doesn’t know what to give his estranged son for his tenth birthday…

A woman who is worried that her sister is dating a gangster…

A strange man who lost his pet lobster…

A teenage girl who isn’t sure what she wants more – to move to another city to the university of her dreams or stay at her hometown with her best friend and boyfriend…

Hange greedily drinks in every word, hurrying to get to the bottom. What if there is a letter from him…

Levi interrupts her by kicking her leg under the desk.

“I’m glad you finally decided to pay attention to your work,” he pauses, his scowl deepening. In her head, Hange finishes his sentence for him – but now, I want you to pay attention to me. God, Levi is just the cutest. So endearing and precious, and he tries to hide it so hard. Nothing gets past Hange, though. “But I didn’t come here to stare at your deranged smile.”

Obediently, Hange shifts her gaze from a screen to Levi, staring at him with a hand beneath her chin. “Why did come here then?”

“You have a meeting this Friday, remember?”

A meeting, meeting… It takes Hange a long moment to catch up with what Levi is talking about.

“A meeting!” she yells, when it dawns on her at last. She snaps her fingers, grinning at Levi. “Of course, a meeting, with that guy from, mm…” she frowns, tapping her forehead. “From Monkey Island?”

“Money Island,” Levi corrects, but he does so with a hoarse chuckle, and Hange mentally pats herself on a back.

After all, who doesn’t enjoy making their attractive co-workers laugh? Especially if they’re just as broody as Levi?

“Do you remember his name at least?”

“Zeke Yeager, right?”

“Right,” Levi nods, and it could be Hange’s imagination, but his face becomes just a little darker, and his voice just a little gruffer.

Hange’s senses start tingling…

“Do you know each other?”

And, yep, there it is – Levi purses his lips, turning his head to the side to mutter a quiet curse. “We’ve graduated from the same university.”

In what world that is a reason enough for such apparent dislike? Hange longs to know more, find out every possible detail.

Levi sees that desire reflect on her face, and sighs. “He’s an asshole,” he reveals. “Who loves his asshole little brother.”

It doesn’t explain much anyway, but Hange feels like it’s the best she can get out of Levi. She decides to surrender and quell her curiosity, just this once.

“This is the only reason why you came? To remind me about the meeting? I have an assistant for that, Levi.”

Lifting his thin eyebrow, Levi gives her a long look. Hange struggles not to fidget under it. What has gotten into him?

“You really don’t remember,” Levi shakes his head, his disappointment more than transparent. “Four-eyes, Berner is on a sick leave. Had been for three days already.”

Oh, right… that’s why no one answered when she yelled a greeting upon entering the office. That’s why she forgot about the letters day. And that’s why she was staring in the distance for almost ten minutes.

She awkwardly giggles, rubbing her neck. “It just slipped my mind.”

“Lots of things do,” Levi rolls his eyes. “Don’t forget about meeting with Yeager, though. He’s an asshole but—”

“But an important man,” Hange finishes for him. She knows that, can hardly forget about that, since Erwin is so adamant at reminding her every time they cross paths at the office. “I know, I know, that interview is important just as that Zeke is. It can make our magazine more popular and blah, blah, blah.”

“Not only our magazine,” Levi sharply retorts. “It’s a chance for you too, Hange. Don’t ruin it.”

There is an uncharacteristic intensity in his voice, one that turns Hange speechless.

It’s a surprise that Levi knows about her ambitions at all, of course, she told him same as she told practically every person she came across. One day, I’ll show you, I’ll show you all just how great I can be. But it’s a surprise Levi not only knows, but remembers about it. It’s a surprise that he seems to care whether she truly achieves her dreams or not.

“Do you wish to come with me?”

It tumbles out of her lips without a second thought. But just as her mouth starts moving, Hange realizes that she truly wants it, wants to have Levi there with her. As a moral support, if nothing more.

Levi doesn’t answer her right away. His eyes narrow, as he mulls it over with his hand on his chin.

“Zeke doesn’t like me,” he mutters. “I will only make it worse.”

“Or you will make it better,” Hange winks, pressing her elbows into the desk to lean closer to Levi. Now that she knows what she wants, she doesn’t hesitate to apply a bit of pressure. “Maybe, he secretly likes you.”

Levi scoffs, crossing hands on his chest. “I doubt it.”

Despite his curt answer, Hange knows that she is close. Levi is almost ready to break. To ensure that, she decides to play a little dirty. “Levi,” she tilts her head and pinches her eyebrows, sticking her bottom lip out. Her puppy eyes aren’t that impressive, not nearly as good as Nanaba’s, but, for some reason, they seem to always work on Levi. “Pretty, pretty please, will you go with me?”

Levi curses, and that’s how Hange knows that she won. “If I end up destroying your whole career, four-eyes,” he points a finger at her. “That’d be your fault.”

“If you ruin my career, that means I’ll stay here with you forever. Won’t that be splendid?”

He doesn’t say anything, but his face seems pensive, thoughtful. Something in Hange’s heart pangs at that.

“Are you going to Nanaba’s place this Sunday?” she asks to change the topic. And distract herself from the strange feeling Levi’s expression provoked.

“No,” Levi answers. Hange grins.

Levi always says no, always tells them that he won’t let them pull him into their shitty shenanigans again, always swears that this is the last time he dragged their drunk asses home.

And yet, he shows up time and time again. He complains, calls them idiots, drunken fools and disgraces to society, but he still shows up. If that’s not a sign of true friendship, Hange doesn’t know what true friendship is.

“Can’t wait to hang out with your broody mien, shorty!” she exclaims, laughing when Levi flips her off. “Don’t forget your gloomy attitude!”

“And don’t you forget about letters I sent to you,” Levi stands up, throwing his paper cup in a trash bin next to Hange’s desk. “You have two days to answer them all.”

“I know, I know,” Hange waves him off. “I don’t need you or Moblit to tell me how to do my job.”

Levi raises an eyebrow at that, looking overly skeptical. “Two days,” he dryly reminds her before leaving her small office.

For a moment more, Hange continues staring after him with a fond smile on her lips.

Back to work, Zoe, she shakes herself and returns her attention to the computer screen. Her mail is still opened there, and Hange scrolls down to the end, searching for a username she hopes will pop out.

Almost near the end, it does, and Hange can’t keep in a quiet squeal of delight.

wings_of_freedom@gmail.com

The username is a bit ridiculous, pompous even, so Hange opts for a shorter and, in her opinion, more accurate one – lover boy.

Every two weeks without a fail, that same user sends Hange a letter, asking for an advice. They all wary in everything, but the subject – a person the lover boy has a crush on.

What do I do to become closer to her, what is the best way to make her smile…

Each and every letter, without a fail, brightens Hange’s day, no matter how shitty it was. The care, affection and love that radiate from these letters melt her heart and strengthen her belief that the world is truly a wonderful place if kind-hearted people like him still live here.

Apparently, romance isn’t quite dead yet.

Gripping the edge of her chair to at least try and conceal her excitement, Hange eagerly opens the letter and starts reading.

Thank you for your last advice, as always, it helped.

We’re growing closer, at least, it feels like we do. However, there is another problem that I hope you can help me with.

Admittedly, I’m not very good with my words. I never know what to say to tell the others how I feel, and sometimes I can come as rough and rather rude. It’s a fault of mine I had ever since childhood, and, truth be told, it never bothered me much.

But with her… it’s a bit different.

She can take a joke, and I know she doesn’t really mind my manner of communicating, but, still, I wish I could show her just how much she truly means to me. Sometimes it seems like she doesn’t quite realize it. Doesn’t really understand just how amazing and wonderful she is.

I know that the subject is not exactly ordinary, but your advices helped in the past, and I believe it will help this time too. Even if it wouldn’t, it’d be interesting to read your opinion on that.

Thank you in advance.

After finishing the letter, Hange starts rereading it, rubbing her forehead in thought. The lover boy is right, the subject isn’t easy at all. The lack of details and context complicates things even further.

A lot of people struggle at communicating what they feel, and it’s especially true about romantic feelings. But different people struggle in different ways.

Someone like Moblit, for example, is open enough with his affection, but he’d stutter to death sooner than confess to someone.

Someone like Erwin can charm pretty much anyone. His carefully crafted words and easy, handsome smile do all the job for him, but his words are crafted just a little too carefully and his smiles come a little too easily, and, as a result, he only rarely comes off as truly sincere.

And then there is Levi, whose walls are higher than skyscrapers and mightier than a fortress. But once you get past them, once you invest enough time and effort to break them down, you’ll find a gentle, caring man, who just isn’t used to showing his true feelings.

Hange can only guess what type the lover boy is.

Sighing, she decides to leave his letter for now and deal with it after she finishes with the rest. Somehow she feels that finding a lost lobster would be much easier than dealing with that particular dilemma.

***

A couple of busy days, filled with Erwin's warnings - Hange, remember the reputation of our agency rests on your shoulders, Nanaba's cheerful encouragements - you can do it, Hange! you'll charm the guy in no time, I know you will, Mike's horrible jokes - if you can't charm him, just ask Levi to punch him, that might do the trick too, and Moblit's frantic remindings, spoken over the phone in a throaty voice, later Hange and Levi arrive to the café Zeke had chosen for their meeting.

“It looks fancy,” Hange whispers to Levi, eyeing the entrance with a slight pout. “I didn’t know it’d be so fancy.”

“That’s Zeke for you,” Levi grunts. “Fancy asshole.”

“R-right,” suddenly every single precaution Erwin had told her come back, more frightening than ever. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The inside of the café seems even fancier, and Hange spares a longing look at her attire – an over-sized yellow pullover thrown over a light green plaid shirt with a brown khakis and worn-out converses. It’s not something one would call professional or stylish, not that she owns anything much better… but now Hange wishes she at least combed her hair.

She doesn’t know what Zeke looks like, hasn’t bothered with looking him up, since Levi is accompanying her, but she easily spots him even without Levi’s help.

Just as the café’s entrance, just as its interior, Zeke looks fancy. He’s not overdressed, in his dark green shirt and light cardigan he is all but casual, but damn, he is one of the leading journalists at the magazine called Money Island, and it clearly shows.

Levi wasn’t wrong about the fancy part, but he also failed to mention that Zeke is handsome. Extremely so. Blond and bearded, he is not exactly Hange’s type, but, well… there are exceptions to every rule.

Not just attractive, but, apparently, Zeke is a gentleman too.

He rises from his seat as soon, as he sees Hange, a blinding in its brilliance smile curving his thin lips.

“Hange Zoe,” he greets and eagerly shakes her hand. “I’m so happy you’ve come.”

The smile doesn’t leave his face, doesn’t even diminish, but his eyes narrow ever so slightly, when they land on Hange’s companion.

“I didn’t know you’d bring a friend.”

His voice is friendly, if only a little surprised, but his eyes are colder than they’d been before.

“It’s our editor,” Hange pats Levi’s back. “Levi—”

“We’ve met before,” Zeke’s still showing that same smile, but there is just enough frost in his voice to tell Hange that there is no secret affection between him and Levi.

“I’m glad Hange invited me to trail along. It’s nice to see you again, Zeke.”

Levi doesn’t bother hiding his sarcasm or schooling his expression in something more amicable. Hange rolls her eyes and kicks him as soon as Zeke turns around.

Will it kill you if you try to act a little friendlier? her gaze asks him.

I warned you about this, Levi’s huff answers.

Oh, well. At least, he didn’t call her four-eyes in front of Zeke. Clearly, that’s an improvement.

Hange sighs and sends a quick prayer that this meeting won’t turn into a complete disaster. She sits down in a booth across from Zeke and hopes that her smile will be enough to counter any possible tensions.

“The strawberry cupcakes are exceptionally good here,” Zeke notes, when a waitress bring them menus.

Without looking up from a menu, Hange nods. The prices in this café are much higher than she is comfortable with. She’d never bring her friends here, but, well… Zeke isn’t a friend, so Hange swallows down her discontent and orders herself a coffee with a strawberry cupcake.

She doesn’t even like strawberry cupcakes.

“Let’s start, shall we?” Zeke says after three of them receive their orders.

Hange takes a sip from her coffee – it’s honestly not that good to be so pricey – and tries to look composed and professional.

Truth be told, she doesn’t know why she is here. An interview, Erwin told her, but why would anyone want to interview her? She’s not a celebrity – not an actor or an artist, she’s a journalist, who works for a small, local magazine.

Why would a person like Zeke and a magazine like Money Island be interested in someone like her?

“I’ve prepared a small list of questions…” Zeke takes out his tablet, turning it on. “Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes,” Hange says, smiling when she feels Levi’s calf press to hers in a silent encouragement.

“So tell me more about yourself – your hobbies, talents outside of work…”

It starts easy like that, and Hange loses herself in her ramblings so much that she doesn’t notice that Zeke isn’t taking any notes.

But after a few trivial questions – what do you like about journalism, what made you choose this career path, what are subjects you’re most passionate about – everything gets just a little bit stranger.

“What are your greatest strengths?” Zeke asks, then follows it with, “What are your greatest weaknesses?”

Where do you see yourself in five years? What’s your dream job? Do you consider yourself successful?

One question after another tumbles out of his lips, and soon Hange realizes.

It’s not a simple interview, it’s a job interview.

A confused look Levi sends her confirms her suspicion.

“Mister Yeager?” Hange calls after a question about how she prefers to be managed.

“Call me Zeke,” he retorts charmingly.

“Zeke,” she forces a smile and hopes it doesn’t look too fake. “I don’t wish to appear rude… but what is the meaning of this? I thought you wanted an interview for your magazine?”

“It’s more for me than Money Island,” Zeke confesses. “I wish to get to know you better.”

Beside her, Levi tenses. Amongst the noise and clutter of the café, Hange can almost hear the sound of his teeth gritting. She doesn’t spare a glance in his direction, too busy gawking at Zeke.

“May I ask…” she clears her throat, feeling too far away from her comfort zone. “…Why?”

“Sina’s Gossips is a fairly small magazine,” Zeke begins, his voice as sugary as a strawberry cupcake before Hange. “But it became ten times more popular after you started working there. Clearly, you have a lot of potential, and something tells me that advice columnist is not your dream position. So I thought you’d be interested in my offer.”

“Your offer?”

“To change your workplace.”

“But I have no experience in the finance area.”

“I’m willing to give you a chance,” Zeke says graciously. “You’ll have to be approved my by superiors first, of course, and then you’ll need to undergo a bit of training...”

Hange can’t help but frown. “I can’t just abandon my previous position like that.”

“I’m not asking you to. Not now, at least.”

“So what exactly it is that you want?”

It’s Levi who asks, and his low, almost menacing voice startles Hange. She turns to look at him, but his face is as guarded and neutral as it always is.

Zeke raises an eyebrow, his expression curious as he studies Levi. But when he shifts his attention back to Hange, the same handsome smile is already plastered on his lips. “I want to offer a collaboration project. We can use your platform to let people ask things, not about their everyday struggles, but to ask you for an advice about their finance related problems. Our magazine can advertise it, and this will help to expand both yours and ours audience. And…” Zeke pauses, lowering his voice just a fraction. “It will give us a chance to see if you’re up to the job at Money Island or not.”

“I…” it’s a lot to take in, and, naturally, Hange struggles to find her own words. That’s why she’s so grateful when Levi decides to step in.

“We have to discuss with our boss first. Then we can give you a definite answer.”

There is an edge to Zeke’s smile that tells Hange exactly what he thinks about Levi’s interruption. However, it disappears instantly, in a blink of an eye. With his features much more relaxed, Zeke waves a waitress over and asks to bring them a bill.

“I’ll be waiting for your answer,” he says as he stands up. “I enjoyed our time together, Hange Zoe. And I know our companionship will bring me just as much pleasure. I hope we’ll keep in touch.”

He leaves after that, but Hange isn’t yet ready to go. She pushes the cupcake around the plate, mulling it over.

“What do you think?” she asks Levi after five minutes of silence.

“What do you think?” he shoots back, and Hange scoffs, kicking him under the table.

“I asked you first.”

Levi doesn’t answer immediately. He stares at her for a long moment, and there is something in his eyes, something Hange can’t quite understand the meaning of. She wants to know, though, almost asks him, but then Levi breaks the eye contact and slumps back in his chair.

“You’ve always wanted to do something more, right? It’s your chance, Hange.”

“And…” she swallows a heavy lump in her throat and briefly wonders where it had come from. Levi is right, that what she always wanted. Then why she is so hesitant to even entertain the idea? “Do you think I should take it?”

“It’s your chance,” Levi repeats.

He stands up and wraps his hand around her elbow to push Hange up too. His touch is too careful, almost gentle, and the confusion inside her continues to grow.

“Let’s go back to work,” he says, and adds in a voice so quiet, Hange almost misses it. “You did well, Hange.”

***

Hange goes to find Erwin as soon as they return to the office. She doesn’t tell him about the second part of Zeke’s offer, about the possibility that she’ll soon leave Sina’s Gossips and all of its employees, and focuses only on their future collaboration. Erwin listens to her frantic retelling with a calm, attentive face. He agrees to Zeke’s offer without much thought.

“That is,” he hastily adds, “if you wish to proceed with it, Hange. I don’t wish to force you, so if it’s not something you’re interested in...”

“No, no,” she shakes her head and hopes that the smile she forces on doesn’t look pained. “I’ll be happy to work on this project.”

Is she truly happy, though? Hange isn’t sure anymore.

***

She spends the whole evening and most hours of night thinking about it.

She goes to the Money Island’s website and reads most of their recent articles. She googles the most prominent employees and reads about them too, every bit of information she can get her hands on.

When the sun is starting to peek out from the horizon, Hange looks up Zeke. She finds out he has his own youtube channel, where he talks – no surprise here – about finance.

Being rich is easy

God, even the name of the channel reeks of arrogance.

But Hange has to admit – Zeke is good at what he’s doing. His pretentious manner of speaking and his apparent habit of scratching his ear is a little irritating, but he talks with confidence and ease that shows just how much knowledge and experience he has.

His videos are engrossing and his articles are, without a doubt, extremely well-written.

Hange likes Zeke, finds him interesting enough, but what he talks and writes about… she can’t help but think that it’s a bit too dull for her taste.

And it’s ironic, it’s foolish, she should be on a cloud nine from the opportunity presented to her. Hange feels like she would have been on a cloud nine… Three years ago.

But now she has a job she loves and people she loves working with. Should she really leave it behind just like that? Can she?

Then again, can she leave behind a dream she nurtured for as long as she could remember? Can she forget about every ambition and desire?

She doesn’t find an answer to that in the evening, it doesn’t come to her during the night.

And Hange can only hope that she’ll be able to answer it when the time comes.

***

But, instead, Saturday comes, and Hange forces these thought out of her head.

She wants to forget about her doubts, and with Nanaba’s fingers in her hair, a bottle of cold beer in her hands and Mike’s deep voice in her ears, forgetting about everything else is surprisingly easy.

They’re at Nanaba’s summer house, gathered around a brightly-lit brazier. Hange is warm, relaxed and content. Mike’s story about some fisherman from his hometown is a little boring, but Nanaba remedies that fault by whispering sarcastic comments to Hange.

When Mike’s thrilling tale is finally over, Erwin clears his throat, attracting everyone’s attention.

“In case some of you didn’t know, Hange had a very peculiar meeting yesterday…”

“Right,” Nanaba’s grin is too wide and gleeful for Hange’s taste, and when Nanaba fixes her eyes on her, Hange involuntarily squirms. “Very peculiar indeed.”

Knowing but not liking where this is going, Hange leaves the warmth of Nanaba’s lap and moves away. This action brings her to Levi’s side, and he tenses, but doesn’t protest which Hange takes as a sign that she can become a little bolder and lean on his shoulder.

Perhaps, he’ll shield her from Nanaba’s curiosity. Although, Hange has to admit that it’s highly unlikely. No one can stop Nanaba if she gets curious about something. Hange always admired that about her. Not now, though.

“So tell us, Hange,” Nanaba slowly begins, her eyes glinting in the light of the fire. Hange takes a quick survey, and confirms that, yep, everyone is looking at her. Apparently, Nanaba is not the only who is curious. “Did you have a good time?”

“Well, Zeke’s offer looks promising, and that project certainly is intriguing…”

“God, leave that boring stuff to Erwin,” Nanaba rolls her eyes.

Mike agrees with her by adding, “Not everyone here is as nerdy as you two.”

“Exactly,” Nanaba nods. “We want to know more about Zeke. Is he handsome?”

Perhaps, it’s the beer or the warm atmosphere or the fact that everyone – including Levi – is looking expectantly at her, but Hange chuckles and says, “Very much so. Not in the way our fearless leader is,” she salutes Erwin with a bottle, enjoying the slight blush that appears on his cheeks. “But he’s still attractive.”

There is pure wickedness in Nanaba’s gaze, when she leans a little closer to Hange and asks, “Is he as handsome as Levi?”

Hange chokes on her beer. Her eyes water as she coughs it out, her throat is sore, but with the help of Levi’s gentle pats, Hange manages to get her breathing back under control.

She glares at Nanaba as soon as she straightens out, but then remembers the stupid question and feels color rise to her face. She can blame it on a coughing fit. Probably. Hopefully.

“It depends on one’s preferences…” she mumbles, hating how weak her voice sounds.

Nanaba is merciless, though. “What’s your opinion then?”

It takes Hange more than a moment to gather enough courage to sneak a glance at Levi. Their eyes meet, but for no more than a heartbeat. Levi looks away instantly, his hands clenching into fists.

Hange decides to be honest then. Her gaze still fixed to Levi, she murmurs, “No, Zeke is nearly not as handsome as Levi.”

Nanaba coos, Mike guffaws and Erwin simply smiles, like that is exactly the kind of answer he expected.

Levi doesn’t react at all, but Hange is still pressed against him and so she feels – he relaxes considerably.

Hange relaxes too, and moving closer to his ear, she whispers, “Hey, help me get revenge on Nanaba.”

The look in Levi’s eyes is positively evil, wicked enough to send a shiver down a spine. Hange feels that shiver acutely, but… not because it scares her. Truthfully, it has a diametrically opposite effect on her.

“With great pleasure, four-eyes.”

“Oi, Nanaba!” Hange calls. She doesn’t know what to say next, finds it hard to concentrate with Levi so close to her, but she trusts he’ll back her up.

As always, he doesn’t disappoint.

“Is that your lipstick on Mike’s neck?”

There is no lipstick on his neck, Nanaba isn’t even wearing one, but they both panic and they both exchange quick glances. It’s enough of an evidence to make everyone laugh.

Mike is smiling, as he pulls Nanaba closer, tucking her under his arm. “We really suck at being discreet, aren’t we, Nana?”

“That we are,” she agrees with a smile as gentle and loving as Mike’s. “I guess there is something we want to tell you then.”

“About damn time,” Erwin shakes his head. “Do you know how many times I’ve caught you making out in the supply closet? I was getting tired of keeping quiet about it.”

“You didn’t keep quiet about it,” Levi grumbles. “Every time you caught them you ran to tell me.”

“And then me,” Hang gleefully adds.

Nanaba and Mike groan in unison, their faces red as tomato.

“We have the worst friends ever.”

Hange laughs. She very much begs to differ.

***

Beers and constant laughter very soon make all of them sleepy. That’s how Hange finds herself sandwiched between Erwin and Mike on a bed in the guest room, and though there is enough space for another person to fit in, Nanaba claims the master bedroom, and Levi takes one look at them and retires to the living room, sprawling over the couch.

In Erwin and Mike’s arms Hange feels safe and content. Her previous doubts take a seat back and let her enjoy the night with her friends. Thankfully, sleep comes to her that much easier than it did last night.

It doesn’t last for long, though.

The sun still isn’t up, but the world isn’t dark anymore, when Hange wakes up from her slumber.

Erwin is snoring into her ear, but there is a vacant place to her left, where Mike used to sleep. It’s not hard to guess where he had disappeared to, and Hange allows herself a small smile at the expanse of her friends’ happiness.

She doesn’t feel like sleeping anymore, so she throws one blanket over Erwin and snatches another one, wrapping it around her shoulders. With her feet bare and still dressed in a pajama shorts and Mike’s t-shirt that almost reaches her knees, she leaves the room and goes downstairs, walking outside. She takes a seat at a porch swing and draws a slow, deep breath, taking in the beauty around her.

The world is only starting to wake up, and grey color is more prominent than anything else, but there are just enough soft shades of purple, blue and pink to make up for it. Nanaba’s house sits just at the edge of a clearing that leads to a small lake, and the morning brings thick streak of fog that spreads over crystal surface.

It’s beautiful enough to take her breath away, and Hange loses herself in the calm, gentle feeling that finds its way inside her.

That feeling is strong enough to hide the sound of soft footsteps that approach her. Hange notices someone else’s presence only when the swing starts moving. She startles, her head darting to the side, but relaxes instantly, when she sees Levi’s sharp profile. He’s holding two cups of steaming tea in his hands, and hands one cup to Hange.

“Thank you,” she smiles, inhaling the sweet aroma of tea. It tastes just as sweet as it smells, she realizes after taking the first sip. Then, she turns her attention back to Levi. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No, I usually wake up at this time. Insomnia,” he says, and, right, now Hange remembers something-something about Levi sleeping not nearly enough for a normal human being. “Heard that you woke up and decided you might want a company.”

“How did you know that it was me who woke up?”

Levi gives her a short glance before shrugging and returning his gaze back to the scenery in front of them. “Your steps are different,” he answers, like it explains everything.

It does explain everything for Levi, Hange muses. He works in a strange, obscure way, so very different from other people. That’s why Hange likes him. That’s why she feels so comfortable with him.

Perhaps, it’s a fault of a dim, morning light or, perhaps, it’s her own sleepiness that changes her perception, but Levi looks a little different, softer around the edges. Because of it, Hange allows herself a small indulgence and moves close enough for their shoulders to touch.

Just a fraction, barely an inch, but she feels Levi move closer as well.

All of it – the colors merging on a horizon, the fog that makes everything look almost ethereal, the sweet tea made by Levi, Levi himself – fuse together to create an impossibly light, gentle feeling that very rarely visits Hange.

In that moment she feels happy, so happy that not even a brief thought of what’s going to happen if I leave is enough to ruin that mood. She simply drowns that pesky doubt down with tea and turns to look at Levi.

“I’m so lucky to have met you all,” she reveals to him in a quiet voice. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so happy before.”

Levi stares at her, and there is something in his eyes, something fierce and at the same time vulnerable that Hange can’t quite understand. She isn’t sure she wants to, not now, at least.

“Let’s stay like this,” she says, almost a plea. “At least, for a little while.”

“As you wish,” Levi agrees easily as though… as though whatever is it that she wants, he’ll get her.

The thought is both comforting and terrifying. Comforting, because it means he cares about her, because it means she’s not alone anymore.

And terrifying, because it makes her happy, and Hange isn’t sure she’d be able to part with that happiness, when the time comes.

***

No matter how much Hange wants to prolong that fuzzy feeling and stay in that small bubble with her friends, all too soon the weekend ends. Monday comes and with it arrives a new wave of responsibilities.

But not only responsibilities return – Moblit does too, and as soon as she sees him, Hange hugs him close to her chest, laughing when he starts complaining that she squeezes him too much.

“It’s been too quiet without your nagging!” Hange pats him on a back, smiling from ear to ear. “And you’ve missed one hell of a party! We’ve been sleeping so peacefully without your snores.”

“You like my snores,” Moblit argues, and he is right to do so. Moblit’s throaty snores lull her to sleep better than any lullaby. Besides, cuddling with him is always a delight, his tummy softer than any pillow. “And I’ve heard about that party already,” he continues with an almost sly look. “Nanaba told they found you and Levi getting cozy on a porch.”

Hange huffs, turning away from his knowing look. “I see Nanaba’s obsession with gossips is infectious.”

“It’s Sina’s Gossips we’re working at. Love for gossip is the requirement to get a position here,” Moblit jokes, and Hange shakes her head with a low chuckle.

Moblit’s been absent for just a week, but it was enough to make her miss him like crazy. She’s glad he is back. And more than anything, she wants to chat some more, but the work doesn’t wait.

She contacts Zeke as she drinks her first cup of coffee, and not even five minutes pass before he schedules another meeting with her.

There is no need for your editor to join us this time :)

Hange isn’t sure what irritates her more – Zeke’s apparent dislike of Levi or the stupid emoji.

However, Erwin’s words ring in her ear, yet another reminder that this is important, Hange, we can’t afford to blow this off, especially not with a man like Zeke on board. So she replies him with a stupid emoji of her own, and, gritting her teeth, adds that she is looking forward to their meeting.

Then, not wanting to repeat her last mistake, Hange checks the place Zeke has invited her to. This time it’s a restaurant, and a flashy one at that. The time he sets the meeting for – seven pm – is another hint that it is not a casual meeting, and therefore she needs to wear something better than her usual clothes.

She isn’t sure she can pull it off all by herself, though, and she isn’t sure there is at least one item of clothing in her closet that can be classified as fancy, so Hange asks Nanaba to help.

Nanaba agrees instantly, her eyes brightening up at the prospect. She promises to come over at the evening of the meeting with Zeke, bring some new clothes for Hange and pick up something classy.

At five pm sharp, just two hours before her meeting, Nanaba shows at Hange’s place, holding two large packages.

She doesn’t come alone, and with wide eyes Hange watches how Mike, Moblit and Levi trail inside her apartment after Nanaba.

“Erwin couldn’t make it, because he’s old and boring,” Nanaba cheerfully informs her. “But he asked to send him pictures of every look I’d pick for you.”

“Has anyone told you how wicked and vile you are?” Hange asks her with a glare that could almost rival Levi’s.

“Mike makes sure to tell me this regularly,” Nanaba flippantly replies. “Now go and get changed! We don’t have all evening.”

It takes five changes of clothes to finally find something that satisfies Nanaba’s fashion sense and doesn’t make Hange feel like she’s out of her element.

She is dressed in a dark brown suit with a black shirt underneath, and after Nanaba makes a controlled mess out of her hair, Hange has to agree – she looks very good.

“Let’s show you to the boys,” Nanaba whispers before taking a quick photo for Erwin. She pushes Hange into the living room, where Mike, Moblit and Levi are already waiting for her, all of them nursing a bottle of beer. “We’ve got yes from Erwin!” Nanaba cheerfully announces after checking her phone.

“That’s a definite yes from me too,” Mike nods in agreement.

“You look so handsome,” Moblit says earnestly, despite his shy smile.

Levi doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t tear his eyes away from Hange either. As she waits for his verdict, Hange wonders if the desire to change her look, because Levi obviously doesn’t like it, is simply stupid or downright pathetic.

“Levi,” Nanaba glowers at him, when the silence stretches for far too long.

Hange wants to deflate the tension with some joke, but then Levi clears his throat. “Not bad, four-eyes,” he says, making her heart stumble. “Go get that stupid monkey.”

Hange wants to hug him, so, so much, but she’s afraid to ruin the suit, so she settles on thanking him with a bright, happy smile.

Levi’s expression softens like that is all the thanks he desires.

“Continue making heart eyes at Levi, and you’ll miss your little meeting, Hans,” Nanaba whispers.

Hange hopes the red on her cheeks will be interpreted as anger, but Nanaba is right – she has to hurry, all this effort would be in vain if she arrives even a little too late.

“C’mon,” Mike wraps an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll give you a lift.”

Hange smiles, feeling so grateful – to all of them. She wouldn’t be ready for this evening if it wasn’t for Nanaba, she probably wouldn’t get that deal with Zeke if it wasn’t for Levi, her column wouldn’t be so successful if it wasn’t for Moblit’s assistance and Mike’s constant help, she wouldn’t have this job, this family if it wasn’t for Erwin who decided to hire her.

They all wish her luck one last time at the entrance of the restaurant. Nanaba and Moblit fruitlessly try to peek inside and get a glimpse of Zeke, when Levi wraps his hand around her wrist, dragging Hange aside.

“It’s Tuesday,” he says matter-of-factly.

More than a little confused, Hange blinks, then nods in affirmative, she knows it’s Tuesday, she’s not that disorganized.

“It’s Tuesday,” he repeats, tilting his head just so.

It is only then, to Hange’s shame, that she finally understands what he means.

“The letters, right?” she grins, proud of her own quick-wittedness. It took her only a moment to guess.

“I sent them over already. If you won’t be too exhausted after the meeting…”

“I’ll check them out as soon as I get home,” she promises.

There is nothing else to say, nothing else to do but walk away from Levi and inside the restaurant, where Zeke is probably waiting for her. Still… Hange is reluctant to leave. There is something between her and Levi, something almost tangible, and it keeps her glued to his side.

This feeling, it grows bigger, harder to ignore, until—

Until it disappears, when Nanaba tugs at her hand. Hange allows her friend to pull her away from Levi, stopping just for a second to turn around and wave him goodbye. Levi’s face is set in the usual scowl, but his gaze softens, and it fuels Hange with determination and resolve.

She looks around and, encouraged by her friends’ unwavering support, steps inside the restaurant.

***

Just as Hange predicted, Zeke is already there. When he notices her approach, he stands up and with a dazzling smile and pulls a chair for her.

“Hange Zoe,” he all but purrs. “You’re absolutely ravishing tonight.”

His words are too sweet, Zeke himself is too sweet to seem genuine, but Hange gives him a smile nevertheless. His compliment doesn’t succeed in making her heart race like Levi’s quiet ‘not bad, four-eyes’ did, but it still pleases her.

She doesn’t believe he truly means it, knows that Zeke uses flirting to get something out of her, but, oh well… if a man like Zeke Yeager wants something from her… isn’t it already fluttering?

“I took a liberty to order for you myself, if you don’t mind,” Zeke says.

Hange does mind, not that she can express it now, after Zeke already ordered. That’s exactly what he was counting for, Hange can very well see it – in the slight curve of his mouth and an amused shine in his eyes.

“As long as the meal is delicious,” she murmurs slyly.

Zeke laughs, and Hange mentally congratulates herself. Erwin would be so proud.

Speaking of Erwin…

“My boss agreed to your offer, he’s very interested in it and hopes…”

“Hange,” Zeke cuts her off with a wave of his hand. “We have work email to discuss things like that. Delicious food, beautiful night… why don’t we simply enjoy it? We can talk about work later.”

Hange frowns, looking at the man before her intently. For the life of her, she can’t comprehend what does he want from her.

“You’re a journalist with bright future ahead of you,” Zeke says, like he knows what exactly Hange is thinking about. “I want to help you succeed, but, aside from that, you’re an intriguing person. I simply wish to get to know you better. Is it so bad?”

Either she really sucks at reading people, or Zeke is that good of an actor, but… he seems genuine enough. Hange struggles with keeping her suspicion.

Before she can give him an answer, their food is brought in. The plate before Hange looks more expensive than she could probably afford, and she is pretty sure she won’t be able to even pronounce the name of a dish, but she takes a first bite, and… can barely resist a moan.

It’s good, really good – spicy but not bitter, and just crunchy and juicy enough.

“Is it delicious?” Zeke quirks an eyebrow, smug and amused.

The dish is so tasty, Hange can’t find it in herself to snap at him. “It’s perfect,” she confesses, sending another slice into her mouth.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it, to be honest, I was quite nervous about your reaction.”

Zeke doesn’t look nervous in the slightest, but if he’s so dead-set on playing a gentleman tonight, Hange can indulge him.

“So what exactly do you want to know about me?” she asks, pouring wine in both of their glasses.

“Ah, right,” Zeke pushes the glasses up his nose. “The first thing I’m interested in…”

***

They spend the whole dinner talking, jumping from one topic to another. Despite his arrogance, Zeke is an interesting man, he knows how to entertain and engage his companion, and so very soon Hange loses herself in conversation with him.

Time flies fast, and when they stand up from the table, Hange is shocked to discover that it’s almost ten in the evening.

Zeke remains a gentleman till the very end, and after paying their bill, he drives Hange home. He stops just outside of her apartment block, and when he turns off the engine, Hange knows she is ought to say something.

“I had fun. Thank you for the evening.” She says, and she means it. She doesn’t feel nearly as happy as when she is with her friends from Sina’s Gossips, but Zeke proved to be a good company. Hange is looking forward to working with him.

“I should be the one thanking you,” Zeke tilts his head, ever the charmer. “I’ll see you again?”

“Sure,” Hange agrees and gets out of the car. “Good night,” she yells into his open window and then hurries up the steps to her apartment.

Exhaustion sips into her bones the moment Hange crosses the threshold. She kicks off the shoes and takes off the suit, trudging up to the shower. Once she is clean and fresh, she falls onto her bed and gets under the blankets. Only then, Hange remembers her conversation with Levi.

With the last bit of her energy, she takes the phone into her hands and unlocks it, going immediately to the mail. She isn’t awake enough to read all the letters, so she just quickly scrolls through them. A thank you message from a man who found his lobster… a distraught mother who doesn’t know how to communicate with her son… a middle-aged teacher with a mid-life crisis… Hange scrolls further down, until she sees a familiar username.

She smiles and opens the letter.

Good day, and thank you again for the last advice. Admittedly, I was a bit skeptical about it, “trust that she knows you well enough” seemed just that side of too easy, but I think she does know me well enough to see through my rude exterior. What’s more, I think she knows me well enough to see things I don’t even wish to show her. I can’t yet decide if that’s a good thing, or a terrifying one.

Alas, there is another problem, one that bothers me constantly.

Without getting too much into details… there is a chance she might leave the company we both work for. I know it might not seem that awful, we can still remain friends even if we don’t work together, but… I’m afraid we’ll drift apart when she leaves. Without common ground, without our friends bringing us together, she wouldn’t have a reason to talk to me. Maybe, she wouldn’t even want to.

But that’s not the thing that bothers me the most. She hasn’t yet decided if she wants to leave or not, and, as much as I am reluctant to let her go, I… I wish she follows her dreams, even if they tear us apart. But she’s perceptive, and, as I’ve mentioned before, she knows things about me that I very well try to hide. So what if she learns about my reluctance? What if it somehow influences her final decision?

I don’t wish for that to happen, whether she stays or she leaves, I don’t want to be her reason for either.

Because if she grows to be unhappy about that decision… I don’t think I’ll be able to take.

I… don’t think I’ve explained my point clear enough, maybe, because it’s not clear enough in my mind too. However, as always, I put my trust in you.

You haven’t left me down before, after all.

Thanks for bearing with me. Hopefully, it’s not the last time.

Hange groans in frustration, as she comes to an end of the letter. Here she was hoping to receive some sweet news from her lover boy, but he presented her with another dilemma instead. And one that is so similar to hers too. Maybe, it’s a sign, a way of universe telling her… something. The message is not yet clear enough.

Perhaps, with a little time, she’ll be able to decipher it. But as for now, Hange decides, putting the phone on top of the bedside table, the only thing she really, really needs is sleep.

And, thankfully, it comes to her easily.

***

The next day Hange dives deep into work and stays in the depth of articles, lectures, textbooks and letters from readers for entire two weeks.

In almost everything, Zeke is the one to assist her. Email exchange, video calls, personal meetings… because of all that, Zeke seems to be constantly by her side.

He invites her to his company, organizes the tour around the offices, introduces her to every employee. They’re nice, Hange supposes. Overly politely and unnaturally friendly, but that’s to be expected from total strangers.

Zeke shows her his office – a big room with glass walls and large window that overlooks the city. It drives to a point just how different their newspapers are. It almost makes Hange self-conscious about inviting him to her own office. Thankfully, Levi is there to chase away any discomfort.

As soon as Zeke gets inside their office, Levi is there, glaring at him like he’s trying to burn a hole in his head.

“As Hange’s editor, I’m here to oversee your work with her,” he explains, and proceeds to critique everything Zeke does.

Zeke’s habit of scratching his ear makes him look like a monkey and his beard makes him look like a homeless person, his voice makes Levi’s head hurt, his cologne stinks, he talks too much and works too little, his jokes aren’t funny and his remarks are unnecessary. Levi finds a way to insult everything about Zeke.

Hange would have reprimanded him, she did a few times, but she can’t deny that Levi’s hatred is… kind of funny. It’s petty and childish, but at the same time hilarious to the point that Hange has to constantly bite the inside of her cheeks otherwise she’d be laughing at his jabs like a mad person.

Still, Zeke is an important business partner and her possible colleague, so…

“Please forgive Levi for his… lack of professionalism,” she tells Zeke when Levi leaves to bring them tea. Just moments before Levi had called Zeke ‘an insufferable snob who doesn’t give a single fuck about people around him’, so naturally, Hange feels that apology in an absolute necessity this time.

“Don’t worry, I’m not offended,” Zeke smiles, and it looks just that side of arrogant, reminding Hange about Levi’s words and making her feel like maybe, his assertion of Zeke isn’t entirely wrong. “His reason for acting like that is perfectly understandable. When one stands between a man and his… well,” Zeke trails off, staring at Hange enigmatically.

His what? Zeke is standing between Levi and… what? Is it the reason why they don’t like each other so much? Is it something that happened in the past? Or is it a recent development?

Hange wants to ask, but the moment for this is lost, when Levi comes back, holding a trail in his hands.

“I spat into your coffee,” he says to Zeke with the most deadpan expression. If Hange didn’t know Levi a little better, she’d believe that he actually did it. But Zeke isn’t fooled so easily, so he just wolfishly grins and thanks Levi in a sweet voice. Levi swears under his breath and then turns to Hange, murmuring, “Yours is with three sugars.”

“Just as you like it,” Zeke sing-songs, and Hange can’t stop laughter from bubbling out of her throat at the sight of pure hatred on Levi’s usually indifferent face.

“Let’s get back to work,” she says, still chuckling.

Thankfully, they both listen to her.

***

When Zeke leaves to return to his own office, Hange breathes out in relief. She stretches her arms and sprawls out her long legs beneath the desk with a pleased hum. Working with Zeke is satisfying enough, but with just Levi around, she feels much more at ease.

“So,” she nudges his foot with her leg. “What’s up with you and Zeke? What is the source of a drama?” and, remembering Zeke’s previous comment Hange adds, “Did he steal your crush or what?”

Levi looks affronted. He glares at Hange, hands crossed on his chest and a slight pout curving his lips.

Hange thinks he’s going to tell her to fuck off, almost expects him too, but this time, Levi surprises her.

“Remember my cousin? Mikasa?”

Of course, Hange does. How could she ever forget Mikasa, the only person in this world with a scowl as scary as Levi’s?

“Well, Zeke has a little brother, a brat named Eren.”

Hange nods, she vaguely remembers Levi mentioning some brother, and, more than once, Zeke had bragged to her about Eren, his darling sibling.

“He and Mikasa are friends, and my idiot cousin has been pining after him for years.”

Hange has some troubles imagining a pining Ackerman, and she briefly wonders what Levi would act like, if he had been pining after someone. Can he even pine?

“Eren had been an asshole to her, even made her cry once, so...”

“So?” Hange prompts, practically at the edge of her seat.

“So I decided to teach him a lesson. I wanted to scare him a bit, but it kinda backfired when Zeke spotted the two of us. I wasn’t going to punch him or anything, but apparently that’s how it looked.”

“And?”

Levi sighs. “And Zeke did what he could to protect his little brother.”

“He punched you?” Hange’s eyes are wide, as she tries to imagine that particular scene. Zeke is so much bigger than Levi, if he had punched him… Hange suddenly feels very angry.

“No, although I wish he did. It happened just outside of our university, and so Zeke had me reported to the dean. Something about assaulting a minor… it almost got me expelled.”

“What a fucker,” Hange growls, her fist clenching involuntarily. She knew just how hard it was for Levi to get into that university and pay for the classes, and to think that he nearly got expelled because of something so stupid…

“It was an asshole move, I agree. But a part of me actually understands him.”

“Huh? Why?”

Hange can’t even fathom a reason to defend what Zeke did. She knows she would never forgive him for that. It doesn’t seem like Levi has forgiven him either, but he understands him? Hange doesn’t think she would be as gracious.

“Do you have a sibling, four-eyes?” Levi asks. “Or a cousin?”

“No.”

With a thoughtful expression, he hums. “That’s why you don’t understand.”

His answer confuses Hange. And at the same time, it intrigues her. She knows that a bond between siblings is a special one, and as an only child, she can’t grasp the meaning of it. Levi seems to cherish his relationship with Mikasa, even if he always calls her a brat and complains about her bad manners. It must be nice to have someone, a friend that lives with you in the same house. Hange can’t exactly imagine it, but she acknowledges the importance of it anyway.

“But enough of this,” Levi says, bringing her out of her thoughts. “Your collaboration with Zeke is almost at its end. Your article will come out in a few days, have you decided what are you going to do next? Have you already told Erwin that Zeke offered you a place at his newspaper?”

“I haven’t.”

She doesn’t quite know how to approach this conversation. What’s more, she doesn’t quite know what her decision is. Money Island is an opportunity that shouldn’t be ignored, Hange doesn’t want to ignore it. A resignation letter that is hidden inside the desk's drawer is a testament to this. It will give her career a boost she always dreamed of, and Hange can’t let it just slide past her. She isn’t going to, probably, but… she is reluctant.

“We still don’t know if our collaboration will turn out to be a success or not,” she adds, an attempt to justify her indecisiveness. “Maybe, Zeke wouldn’t want to do anything with me, if we fail.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Levi rolls his eyes, apparently refusing to even entertain this idea. “The article will be a success. And you’ll do great at that job.”

Hange snickers in an attempt to lighten up the mood, to distract Levi from her unease. “Sounds like you just want to get rid of me.”

“It’s your decision,” Levi doesn’t deny, not confirm her comment. It sets Hange just a little further on edge. “What I want doesn’t matter whatsoever.”

His words sound familiar, strangely so, but Hange refuses to think about it any further. The words might sound like those from the lover boy’s letter, but the context is different. Levi and him are different. And whoever lover boy is devoted to, Hange is sure that she and that person are different too.

“I’m starving,” Levi stands up, a bit too abruptly, but Hange is too lost in her thoughts to take note of it. “Let’s steal some food from Mike.”

Hange smiles, grateful for the offer, and stands up to join Levi. “I saw Erwin bring yoghurt today.”

“We need to hurry then,” he grabs her hand, quickening her stride. “Otherwise Nanaba will steal it before we even have a chance.”

Hange laughs and eagerly follows after him.

***

When the article finally comes out, it turns out to be a glaring success. Both newspapers gain new audience, a number of newcomers bigger than Erwin had anticipated.

Everyone is happy and proud of Hange accomplishment. No one is surprised at her success.

Mike, Nanaba and Moblit all but run into her office, interrupting each other in their haste to congratulate her.

Levi is the last one to approach her. He wears an unusually open, almost happy expression.

“Told you’d do great,” he murmurs.

Hange knows she shouldn’t do it, knows that Levi won’t enjoy it, his aversion to invasion of his personal space is proverbial, but… Hange accomplished a lot, right? She deserves a little celebratory gift.

With that in mind, she shortens the distance between them and goes in for the tightest, squishiest hug she had in a while.

Levi grunts his protest, but doesn’t object further. In a move that sets Hange’s heart ablaze, he wraps his arms around her too.

Hange likes hugs, receives lots of them – at parties, she often cuddles with Nanaba and Mike, sometimes falls asleep with Erwin holding her close, and Moblit always gets too clingy when he has a little too much to drink. She enjoys embracing her friends, but a hug from Levi – perhaps, Hange tries to reason, because it is such a rare occurrence – makes her brim with unbridled happiness.

***

After the short, but very much enjoyed celebratory hug, Hange invites her friends to get celebratory drinks.

The evening is great, it is filled with pleasant conversation and so much laughter that Hange’s stomach starts to ache from it. The evening is great, could have been perfect… if Hange could forget about the resignation letter that is hidden inside her desk’s drawer.

It is a little after midnight, when they leave the bar and call it a night. But while everyone else heads to their homes, Hange decides to come to the office.

Almost wistfully, she turns on the computer. The first thing she sees is the time and the date, displayed at the bottom of a screen, that tells her it’s the early hours of Wednesday.

The second thing she sees is a notification that Levi sent her a letter.

Right. It’s letters day. Perhaps, the last one for her.

Hange opens the mail, her eyes instantly searching for the familiar username. She doesn’t find it.

She goes through the whole archive again, this time much slower. Still nothing. Then – what if third time is a charm – she scrolls down to the bottom once more. And…

No luck.

It’s the first time in a while that Hange doesn’t receive a letter from the lover boy. It can be a good thing, she supposes. Maybe, the lover boy finally confessed and his beloved stayed with him. Maybe, that’s why he doesn’t need her advices anymore. Or, maybe… Maybe, she left. That will explain the absence of the letter too.

It’s just a letter, from a total stranger at that, but Hange feels sad. Her eyes water as she stares at the computer screen.

She can’t help but wonder – did lover boy’s beloved know about his feelings? Did she decide to leave anyway? Or was she none the wiser about the extent of his affections towards her? If so, did she regret leaving him behind?

Would Hange herself regret leaving her job and friends?

She’s not sure. The worst thing about regret is that it doesn’t appear until after you’ve already done something.

Maybe, she will regret it, maybe, she won’t. The only way to find out is to keep moving forward.

With a heavy heart and tear-streaked face, Hange takes the resignation letter out of the drawer.

***

When she breaks the news to Erwin, he is not at all surprised. He’s not even angry or disappointed, he doesn’t ask to reconsider. A part of Hange wishes he did. That would give her an excuse to stay.

His smile is sad, but at the same time it’s proud. He thanks Hange for three years of hard work and wishes her the best of luck.

“When you’ll get rich and famous,” he says as he wraps his arm around her. “Think of us sometimes, even if briefly.”

Hange’s answering laugh sounds more like a sob. “How could I ever forget all of you?”

Erwin chuckles and wipes away her tears. “You’re a star, Hange, don’t you ever doubt it.”

***

Her last day at work ends with Hange getting shit-faced at their favorite bar. Everyone else is just as drunk as she is – Nanaba refuses to let go of her arm, Mike keeps asking her to call him every day, and Moblit has already cried for three times.

The only semi-sober ones are Erwin, who has to show up to shareholders’ meeting tomorrow morning, and Levi, who is an abnormal human being that alcohol holds no power over.

In the end, he is the one tasked to bring Hange home.

For the entire of their ride to her apartment complex, Hange does her best to behave. She breaks down as soon as they get inside.

Apparently thinking that forcing her to shower would be too much of a bother, Levi leads her straight to the bedroom.

Hange doesn’t fight it, too exhausted to do so, but when Levi starts tucking her in, she grabs his wrist.

“Levi,” she says, and the amount of alcohol she consumed earlier makes it easier to not give a fuck that her voice sounds almost pleading. “Levi, what do you think about me leaving?”

Levi has said nothing on the topic throughout the whole evening. And, while he has given her a hint about his stance on it before, and it probably wouldn’t matter at all, since she is going to leave anyway, Hange still wants to know.

“I told you before,” he doesn’t pull his hand away from her grasp, if anything he moves a little closer, sitting at the edge of her bed. “My opinion doesn’t matter.”

“It matters,” Hange assures. “To me, it matters.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“Do you want me to stay?” she looks deep into his eyes, but be it the influence of alcohol or the absence of her glasses… she can’t read him at all. “If you really do, maybe—”

“No.” Levi cuts her off sharply. “No, Hange, there is no maybe. It’s your decision, and my feelings can’t become your reason.”

Again, the words are familiar, but Hange is drunk. Hange is filled with alcohol and conflicting emotions and lingering doubts. Besides, she’s too lost in the intense look inside Levi’s eyes to make sense of anything else.

“Good night,” Levi whispers, pressing his lips to her forehead in a feather light, achingly gentle kiss. “I hope you will be happy.”

He leaves just before Hange thinks of asking him to stay.

***

Hange swears to stay in touch with everyone at Sina’s Gossips, and she fully intends to keep that promise, but then— then the work gets in the way.

Her first week at Money Island is all but a blur. There is so much to do, so much to learn, and Hange gets lost in it almost immediately.

She stays in the office after hours, she works during weekends, every waking moment is essentially spent on trying to make sense of it all. The employees of Money Island help, which Hange is immensely grateful for, and she is no stranger to working after hours, but… what made her power through it before is not there anymore.

After two weeks she spends on her new job, Hange can’t deny it anymore – her new position is boring.

All these numbers, charts, net worth, stocks options, so on and so forth… it’s so dull and tiresome, it sucks all of Hange’s enthusiasm and inspiration.

That thrill, that excitement, it isn’t there anymore, there is no passion to fuel her, no purpose worth pursuing.

At least, her new colleagues are nice enough. However… Hange can’t help but compare them to her old ones.

Pieck is funny and kind, but not nearly as kind as Nanaba. Porco’s jokes, no matter what he thinks about them, aren’t as hilarious as Mike’s, and watching the development of his relationship with Pieck doesn’t give Hange the same thrill as Nanaba and Mike’s relationship did. Onyankopon is so polite, and he’s always ready to help, but he isn’t as endearingly awkward and cute as Moblit. Her new boss, Magath, isn’t half the man Erwin is. And Zeke… Zeke doesn’t even begin to compare with Levi.

Hange wants to like them, she really does, but all this work leaves little to no time to hang out with her friends, and their absence makes her more unwilling to connect with the new colleagues.

Out of sheer stubbornness, Hange continues working for another two weeks, hoping that maybe, with just enough time, she’ll get her spark back.

She is in the middle of writing another article, something about yet another failing company, when her phone pings, announcing a notification. Taking it a sign from above that she needs to take a break, Hange looks away from the computer screen and redirects her attention to the phone.

The notification announces a new letter, to her personal account. Intrigued, Hange opens it and almost squeals when she sees the username.

wings_of_freedom@gmail.com

Hange stares at it for a long, long moment. The letter isn’t redirected as it usually was, meaning… the lover boy knows her personal mail address, or…

The lover boy is someone she actually knows.

Not sure which one is more improbable, Hange opens the letter. It’s an unusually short one.

It’s been almost a month since she left. I still miss her every damn day. Do you have any advice how to stop it?

In that moment, everything clicks. Every coincidence and conjunction, every moment she felt like she could connect to the lover boy, every time his dilemma perfectly reflected her own. The fact that he knows her email address and the fact that he mentioned one month, precisely the amount of time that passed since she left Sina’s Gossips… there are too many seemingly random things that together create a clear enough picture.

Hange rereads the letter again, just to make sure that it’s real, just to make sure that she isn’t imagining it, that it isn’t wishful thinking.

It doesn’t seem like it is, Hange doesn’t believe it is, and a realization forces a surprised, happy laugh out of her throat.

It takes her but a moment to set her mind, and then, Hange closes the word document with an article, not bothering to save it. She opens another one right after that, and starts writing what will be another resignation letter, this time addressed to CEO of Money Island, Theo Magath. When she finishes, Hange opens powerpoint and proceeds to make a presentation that consists of almost eighty slides.

Perhaps, not her best work, but Hange is confident it will suffice.

She doesn’t bother waiting for Magath to come back from his meeting to give him a letter. She bumps into Zeke just as she exits the small office they gave her, and she thrusts the resignation letter into his hands before he can pull her into one of his endless, mostly one-sided conversation that serve mainly to stroke his ego.

When he takes a look at the letter, Zeke seems regretful, but— not at all surprised.

“I hoped you’d stay with us for a little longer…” he confesses with a slow shake of his head. “But I guess we can’t do what we don’t love.”

“I’m sorry,” Hange says, a small compensation.

“Don’t be,” Zeke waves her off, as easily and smoothly as he does everything else. “However, if you ever decide to go on a date with someone taller than a middle-schooler…”

Really, even Zeke knows? Is she that oblivious?

“You’ll be the first one to know,” Hange laughs, feeling lighter than she did in weeks.

Without wasting anymore time, Hange ducks into her office, grabs what little things she brought here and then rushes to small, not at all impressive, but so dearly loved building of Sina’s Gossips.

Just before entering, she stops and looks up at the front door. Finally… she feels at peace.

A moment is all she allows, before she walks inside.

Her first stop is Erwin’s office, where Hange plugs a USB and starts her presentation before Erwin can even ask what she’s doing here. It takes absolutely nothing to convince him to give her position back, but it does take the whole eighty slides to make him at the very least consider her new proposition – a new segment where Hange will be observing local news. It’s not much, but it’s a start, and a promising one at that.

“But I still need you to take care of the advice column,” Erwin warns just after he surrenders to Hange’s enthusiasm that slowly starts to come back to her. “Mike is quite terrible at it.”

“Consider it done, chief!” Hange exclaims with a quick salute.

Erwin smiles and stands up to embrace her. “Then, Hange Zoe, welcome back to Sina’s Gossips.”

Hange is smiling so much, she worries that her face might break.

After Erwin, she runs straight into Nanaba’s arms. As they embrace, Nanaba laughs, then cries, then laughs again.

“God, Hange, I’m so happy you came back,” she says, wiping her tears. “I was this close to dying of boredom.”

“You don’t know boredom until you’ve worked in finance, Nana.”

They laugh in unison, and Hange’s heart is full of affection, when Nanaba wetly kisses her cheek.

Just before stopping at Moblit’s desk, Hange heads to break room and is lucky enough to find Mike eating a sandwich there.

Hange steals it with a delighted laughter, instantly taking a huge bite.

“Never thought I’d miss someone stealing my food,” he shakes his head with a big smile. “But here we are, I guess. It’s good to have you back, Hans.”

At first, Moblit doesn’t actually believe she is real. He rubs his eyes and squints at her, tentatively touches her arm, gives her another once-over, and whatever he noticed – perhaps, it’s her mismatched socks – convinces him that he isn’t seeing things.

And then gathers her in his arms.

“They made me work with Levi,” he whispers into her shoulders. “Please, don’t leave me again.”

Hange laughs – she does it a lot today, compensating for that month she spent feeling sorry for herself – and pats Moblit’s shoulder.

“Speaking of our favorite shorty, where is he?”

“In his office, probably brooding as always. Since you left, he’s been doing it more often. ”

Hange thanks Moblit with a quick peck on his cheek, and then she is moving again, now heading to her final destination.

The inside of Levi’s office is dark, and awfully quiet. The only sound is the click-clack of the keyboard and the only light comes from the computer screen. It further highlights the dark circle under his eyes and the overall paleness of his face.

Hange clears her throat to get his attention.

Levi’s eyes snap to her, widening almost immediately. There is an ocean of questions, ready to spill from his lips, but Hange doesn’t give him a chance to voice any of them.

“So there is this guy, he’s been sending letters to me since forever. He’s so sweet, a true romantic, and, well, his letters were kinda the highlight of my week,” she pauses to take a quick breath, and continues. “And I’ve been rooting so hard for him, you know? I wanted him to get together with that sweetheart of his, but I also felt like she was kinda oblivious, if you get what I’m talking about. Perhaps, not completely blind, but with a vision poor enough to miss what is right in front of her. Or, perhaps, she always has her head up in the clouds and the guy is a little short, so it’s easy to miss him? And-”

“So you’ve figured it out then?” Levi interrupts her. His calmness makes Hange more nervous.

“I have.”

“Only now?”

“Yes.”

“Hm,” a ghost of a smile dances around his narrow lips. “Completely blind then.”

Hange huffs, but she can’t resist a smile of her own. She takes a step towards his desk, hopping right on top of it.

“Just so we’re clear,” she touches his forearm, slowly moving her hand up to his shoulder. “You weren’t my reason to leave, Levi. And you aren’t the reason I’m staying. But,” she leans in, hoping that Levi is not as stupid and she is, and he gets the hint that she wants him to lean closer too. “You’re the reason I decided to come back. And for that, I can’t thank you enough.”

Hange closes her eyes, when Levi gently cups her cheek. With bated breath, she waits to feel his lips on hers.

Her lover boy doesn’t disappoint, and the gentle, loving kiss makes her head spin.

After a short moment of bliss, Levi pulls away, and Hange has to forcefully stop herself from chasing after his lips. He smirks at the dazed look in her eyes, and Hange just has to retaliate.

She strokes the skin of his cheek with the most tender of touches, shortening the distance between them with tantalizingly slow speed. Just when they’re less than a breath apart, Hange whispers, in a quiet, endlessly soft voice, “You know, Levi, wings of freedom is a really stupid username.”

Levi pushes her off the desk for that, but it’s still worth it. Even more so, since he catches her right in his arms.

And then her lover boy kisses her again. And again, and again, until her heart is so full of love that she can’t even find it in her to get angry at Mike, who snaps a picture of them and runs away to tell everyone the news.

“They’ll be gossiping about that for weeks,” Levi grumbles.

Hange laughs, smoothing the crease between his eyebrows. “Well, it’s Sina’s Gossips we’re working at. And didn’t you know? Love for the gossip is the requirement to get a position here.”

[shirophantomvox]

Analyzing Killua Zoldyck's Character

Illumi Analysis| Hisoka Analysis| Chrollo Anaysis|

What’s up y’all?! I’ve had at least 2 cups of coffee this morning and I am ready to write my butt off! This post will be about Killua Zoldyck, my second favorite character and you will know why by the end. If you’d like me to write about your favorite character, Be sure to send me a message and I will get on it ASAP.

Here we go!

I saw Killua for the first time on Tumblr. Someone created various icons for several anime characters and edited them. They were all aesthetically pleasing but for some reason, his picture stood out. Now that I look harder, it is because he was holding a Pepsi can instead of the off-brand one they drew for him in the cartoon. I noticed everyone on TikTok and Twitter had the very same icon as their profile picture (usually those that like to troll and say racist things to others). Once I started watching Hunter x Hunter, I realized the character immediately. Thank you for your edits!

Killua Zoldyck is the youngest child in the family and is the only child that developed a mind for his own.

Instead of taking the pleasure of killing, he runs/avoids and achieves this by becoming friends with Gon. It’s interesting to think that no one in the Zoldyck family wants to kill for fun except for Illumi.

I remember Zeno telling Chrollo: “Do you think I enjoy killing?”.

This makes me think that the family’s job is to destroy enemies that are a threat to society. Are the Zoldyck’s taking on the role of cops or an extension of such? If that statement is true why does Illumi take pleasure in abusing his power when his own grandfather only does it when criminals are involved? Granted, Silva and Zeno’s reasoning for brutally fighting criminals isn’t legal, and (to me) are considered to be vigilantes, at least they don’t go around doing the horrible things like how Illumi and Hisoka do.

This very reason why Killua ran away from home. He decided to rebel against his mother and implied: “Fuck you. I’m going to do what I want.” Killua and his siblings are victims of child abuse and show that they deal with that abuse in different ways. Killua masks his abilities in public and tries to keep them under control, Kalluto seems to be very quiet and obedient, Milluki is just as abusive as Illumi, and we already know about Illumi. Milluki is physically abusive; this can be seen when he is whipping Killua for running away and threatens to destroy Gon, Kurapika, and Leorio while Illumi plays mind games on Killua and uses his Nen to do the trick.

Killua’s character is very special and in a way takes the lead as the main character instead of Gon. I don’t know if that was intentional or not. Killua is a 12-year-old boy who leaves home to escape his abusive home and see the world for his own. During phase 1 of Hunter’s Exam, he instantly clicks with Gon; probably because he’s the only 12-year-old there. They constantly challenge each other to see who will win and who will buy dinner or some other reward. Because of his abusive home, Killua often masks his feelings. This is noticeable every time Gon talks about him being his best friend and he always reacts as if he’s embarrassed by it.

Gon is his shield from going bat-shit crazy like his family. They both have faced opponents (like Hisoka and others) where Killua could have unleashed his assassin abilities but didn’t. Yes, some of the opponents are stronger than him, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Killua is the best friend Gon could ever have. Since he knows about aura and any supernatural abilities, this is why he stops Gon and even insults him for pushing himself too far. Killua stopped Gon from using too much aura in the past especially once Kite’s arm was cut off by Pitou. Because Killua wasn’t there to stop him when fighting Pitou, this resulted in Gon’s downfall. Did Killua believe it was his fault that Gon almost died? He isn’t responsible for Gon’s actions but he focused so much on running away from his “demons” and masking his temper by maintaining his friendship that he wasn’t paying attention to Gon’s noticeable and developing temper.

Killua Zoldyck is a child that suffered from abuse and to escape that reality, he runs away, takes Hunter’s Exam only to match with his brother, chooses defeat, and then kills an opponent, not of his own free will.

But wait, there’s more.

After being rescued from his prison of a home, he goes to Heaven’s Arena, met Zushi and his teacher, develop Nen, follows the Phantom Troupe around and somehow managed to survive that, meet Bisky, join a game to get closer to Ging, witnesses Gon disappearing, trying to form a relationship with Alluka, and then tries to heal Gon with a quickness.

Whew, chile!

At the beginning of the show, it appeared as if Killua was taking on too much and only did so to keep his mind off what he escaped from.

One thing to point out is Killua’s motivation to heal Gon no matter what. It is implied that he doesn’t care what will happen to him or anyone else as long as Gon can live again.

Wait.

Isn’t that along the lines of what Gon said about getting revenge for Kite? He didn’t care about what happened to him? Hmmmm. I guess they’re very similar after all!

Killua and Gon are BFFs and will do anything for each other. Friendships in real life should be this way; let’s follow his fictional example.

Face

Killua’s face is the typical shape for someone his age. His eyes are wide, as blue as the morning sky, and honestly, I wish he’d smile more. Even though he is 12 years old, he still has a babyface.

Hair

Killua’s hair color is very similar to Princess Allura’s and Lotor’s. According to verywellmind.com, the color white represents innocence and purity. Ironically, Lotor and Killua are the opposite of that while Allura has maintained her innocence. Killua’s unique hair color and hairstyle are amazing! I love how it stays in shape while he is fighting or running.

Clothes

Regarding clothes, he is JUST like his brother. Again, Illumi irks me, but they both have a great taste in fashion. Through the show, Killua changes his clothes more than Gon, which is funny. I guess if Gon changed his clothes too much it would take away from his character. Killua’s default style contains a sleeveless white shirt with a purple one underneath, basketball shorts, and gym shoes. Just look at these outfit changes! This is why Killua is my 2nd favorite character in this show.

Behavior

As stated before, Killua cares more about others. This is ironic because the Zoldyck family only cares about themselves or their family while Killua feels the complete opposite. It’s almost as if he trusts strangers more than his own family. A common phrase: “She/He turned to the streets” that I’ve heard in my hometown can be applied here. Killua probably hates his family and turned to strangers to find love and comfort since they neglected that. He is also the only one that tries to develop a relationship with Alluka. At first, I thought “Wow he’s only developing a relationship with her to heal Gon” but then I realized it was bigger than that. Alluka has been separated from her family because of her dangerous abilities. She will demand something and if that person doesn’t fulfill her demands, they will suffer horribly. Killua learns that Alluka has a healing ability and while Illumi complains that Killua was hiding rules from him, he never took the chance to talk to him about it and continued to threaten Alluka. The family “banished” her to a confined room for who knows how long because, apparently, she had been possessed by a demon from the Dark Continent and they do not know when it happened. Despite knowing that Killua could parish with the rest, he still develops a relationship with her. He is the true example of excepting someone for who they are. As far as I’m concerned, running away was the best decision he made. It saved his life and in return, he’s going to save another. I do find it ironic that something considered to be so dark has the power to bring something back to life when usually it’s something bright like a light...interesting. You all know what I’m saying. Most television shows only portray angles to heal others while demons only seek to destroy. The Zoldyck family is wrong for pushing Alluka away. How could you do that to your own kid? Shit, you should be blaming yourself for not watching her and allowing the demon to posses her.

In conclusion, Killua is my second favorite character. He is bold, loves his friends, and isn’t afraid (anymore) to step up to people he may not win against. His character has blossomed from a young boy afraid to step up to his brother to a boy who isn’t afraid to do so. He has learned about Nen and has gone through many trials and tribulations just to say he is much stronger than before. What characters would you like to hear about next? Send me a DM!

Fin.

[spiderlilyserendipity]

omg violet you write so well!! if you can, could you write a taehyung nsfw of while on vacation, tae's girlfriend wakes him up early with kisses and promises to do "whatever he wants" if he gets up with her and explores the city and tae holds her to that promise when they get back to their hotel starting with some steamy (private) hot tub sex?

Anon, you are awesome but you have ruined my brain. I got so carried away writing this fic, it is double the size I thought it would be. Many thoughts, head full typa situation. Thank you. This one is titled Only One. Enjoy <3

WC: 4475

Genres: Smut, fluff, angst

Tags: established relationship, anniversary dinners, tae x oc take a trip to Paris

Warnings: dom/sub relationship, dom!taehyung, sub!reader, sir kink, punishment, praise kink, use of the word slut once, colour system as a safeword, insecurity, possessiveness, possessive sex, aftercare, taehyung is very 🥵🥵🥵 in this one y’all

(*Cis female reader*)

“Y/N, Y/N, should we take a picture over there?” Taehyung asks, batting his eyes cutely.

You smile but roll your eyes at Taehyung’s enthusiasm.

Not to be mistaken, if there’s anyone who loves their boyfriend, it’s you. You would live and die for Kim Taehyung, but there’s a special reason for your eyeroll today.

It has been only two weeks since Taehyung got off tour, and at that a world tour. You know Taehyung must be very tired from constantly travelling, hence why you let your boyfriend get his full rest the first week. But the thing is you haven’t seen your lover in a year, and you want to make some memories with him. 

You know he will get too busy once the post-tour lull passes over everyone at the company and everything goes back to regular schedule. Then, Taehyung will get sucked away by album preparations, promotions once it’s out, and inevitably: another tour.

You love that Taehyung gets to do what he loves for a living. You also love how cool he looks on stage. But most of all you like getting to spend time with him. 

To be honest, you were going to go see Taehyung in Paris during the European leg of the tour. It had been your anniversary, and the two of you had plans to get dinner together and enjoy the city. But then life happened and your plans came crashing down, preventing you from seeing Taehyung until the tour ended months later.

But past you had thought quickly, knowing the day Taehyung would return home and shifted your ticket instead of cancelling. So a week after Taehyung got home, you presented him with a second plane ticket to Paris, France that you bought last minute just for him.

You thought Taehyung would agree with making up for your missed anniversary, but Taehyung had frowned instead. “Babe, I seriously don’t want to go anywhere for a while. I’m sick of hotels and planes.”

“But I’ve never been there, baby. It would be so romantic!” You convinced him eventually, your pout winning him over. Taehyung had sighed, then called his manager to let him know.

So excited from Taehyung agreeing, you had leapt up into his arms and kissed him like crazy. “Ahhh! I’m so excited!”

Taehyung had held back a grin. “Okay. But no touristy stuff.”

You pout. “But that’s the most fun part!” When Taehyung pouts back, you try to convince him again. “Baby, I promise I’ll seriously do anything you say if you do all the embarrassing touristy stuff with me.”

“Anything?” Taehyung asked you, arching a brow. 

You took his hand, nodding eagerly. “Anything. Let’s just have fun!”

Taehyung grinned at you. “You better keep your word.”

You had kissed him, grinning at him. He watched you with a fond smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You bet I will.” You vow.

It isn’t until you actually land in Paris that you realize what anything Taehyung is imagining.

For all his great qualities, Taehyung is not subtle about what he wants. Especially when he wants you.

The first three days, Taehyung lets you drag him around under the condition that you both wear disguises to avoid being noticed. You comply, picking odd hours of the day for activities that would be very busy at other times of day. You hit all the touristy spots in early mornings before the crowd, hide away in small tucked away cafes and restaurants with Taehyung during lunch hour, then spend the day browsing vintage stores for jewellery and clothes. 

It’s all fun and games except for the teasing that Taehyung will not stop. It’s hard for you to name a time of day where Taehyung’s big hands hadn’t been resting on your waist or his lips idly pressing a kiss to your cheek in passing. You know very well the game Taehyung is playing. He is slowly working you up, getting you used to his constant touches. Then, he will withdraw them, leaving you needy. 

Despite Taehyung’s teasing, the two of you still have a great time. You buy souvenirs for your friends and things for yourself. Taehyung also buys you clothes and jewellery, loving to spoil you. But what you love the most are the small establishments he brings you to, full of tasty food and where no one knows his name. You know the game Taehyung is playing, but you let him guide you to an isolated table towards the back and feed you food off his own utensils. You let him wipe the corner of your mouth for some smeared sauce, let him lick it off his thumb. Sometimes, you even get a little on your face on purpose. Taehyung notices when you do that, and lets you get away with it. After all, this isn’t a favour he’s doing you. This is your anniversary trip. He can’t be the only one getting away with teasing.

The following three days, the two of you hit the museums. Taehyung shows you around, explaining things he had seen on previous trips to Paris. You listen to him, happier to see him happy than to really look at the art. You take pictures of your boyfriend inside the museum and really anywhere it won’t catch too much attention.

Over those three days, Taehyung’s touches decrease. He reduces it little by little, but you know him well by now. Taehyung isn’t trying to be subtle, rather the opposite. He wants you to notice, to get riled up when his touch is gone. 

You tell yourself you don’t mind it, but both of you know it’s a lie. You ignore the smirk on Taehyung’s face every time you intertwine your hands or wrap an arm around his waist to guide him through the back roads. You will get back at him at dinner tonight.

After lunch on the final day, you tell Taehyung to head back to the hotel on his own. You say you are going to buy a new dress for your dinner date tonight, and that you want it to be a surprise for him. Chuckling, Taehyung just passes you his blackcard and tells you to have fun.

You buy a dark green coloured gown, Taehyung’s favourite colour, and a matching necklace and earrings set of emeralds. You smile at the sight of your ass being cupped by the silky material. This is sure to drive Taehyung mad. After all, tonight is the final night. Both of you know exactly how tonight will end.

You catch a cab to the five star Taehyung made a reservation at. You pay the taxi driver excitedly, getting out in your all new outfit, new heels, and even a new purse! You were sure to impress Taehyung.

You walk into the restaurant, telling the waiter who you’re here with. He lets you in, guiding you upstairs to your table.

You frown as you see your table. From this angle, you can’t see who, but Taehyung is talking to a woman. You approach quietly, catching neither of their attention. Luckily (or unluckily) for you, they’re talking loudly. You don’t speak much French but you don’t need it to deal with this woman. You hear her mention the word “model” and a woman’s clothing brand. You hear her repeat “model” a second time as she blatantly roams her eyes down Taehyung’s figure, then up at him. That’s the part that makes your blood boil. You know she is aware of your presence. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what kind of relationship you and Taehyung have.

But she still challenges you anyway, openly eyeing your man in public. If you could speak more French than basic small talk you would rip her a new one. 

Fuck it. You think, making your way across the room. Who needs to know the language?

“Oh, baby.” You say in a sweet voice. They both look over at you. The woman looks visibly irritated, pursing her perfect lips in annoyance. What a shame you like to flirt with other women’s men. You think, slightly in awe at her beauty. I’d like you in any other situation. “Is this a friend?” You ask.

You see a hint of a smile before Taehyung bites it back. “No, Y/N. We just met tonight.”

You smile pointedly at the woman. She frowns at you. “Ah, I see. Well, it was nice meeting you. We haven’t had dinner yet, so.” You say, pretending to be apologetic for cutting the conversation short. All three of you know you’re not, but it’s the thought that counts. Or doesn’t. You couldn’t care less.

“Colour.” Taehyung asks the minute you’re back in the hotel room. 

“Green.” 

“Poor baby. Got so angry that I took my eyes off you, huh?” Taehyung teases, hooking his fingers in the band of your underwear. He pulls back, making it snap against your hips. You whimper. “What’s that? Are you trying to say something?” Taehyung taunts you.

He cranes his head to look at you. He cups your face and makes you look at him. He makes a fake-worried face. “That’s odd, you were talking perfectly fine a few hours ago. Was it something in the food that’s making you feel sick or are you just embarrassed from being a possessive little slut in front of sir?”

His words make you shiver. He grins as he feels it against his own abdomen. “It seems like you’re really sick, Y/N. I guess we'll just have to go to bed.”

He begins to unwind his arms from around your waist, but you grab them, holding them against your skin. “S-Sir.” You whisper.

“There’s my girl.” Taehyung says proudly, rewarding you with a kiss to your temple. “Let’s talk about what you did wrong tonight, shall we?”

“I-I was possessive. I got jealous because you were talking to that model.”

Taehyung’s eyes flicker at the last word. “Oh, you heard?” He snaps the band of underwear against your skin again. You wriggle, but he refuses to let you go. “What a bad girl. Eavesdropping on sir’s conversations. What if she had been a potential colleague and you ruined everything? But you didn’t think of any of that, only your. own. feelings.” He emphasizes each of the three words with another smack. “You’re just an ungrateful little slut, aren’t you? I bet you would open your legs for any man that offered you this kind of treatment, huh?” He growls in your ear.

“I-I’m sorry.” You whisper, voice cracking.

Taehyung stops. “Colour.” He says, thumbs gently stroking at your sides.

“Green.” 

“Y/N.” He repeats more firmly. You sniffle. A tear rolls down your cheek. Taehyung thumbs it away immediately. “We don’t have to. I’m sorry. Do you want to take a bath together? We can cuddle after. Anything you’re comfortable with baby.”

You shake your head, looking away from him. “I’m really okay. I...I want my punishment.”

Taehyung turns you to look at him. He watches your face, looking for any unwillingness. He cups your face and makes you look at him. He smiles finally when he sees the familiar, hazy look in your eyes. You are already slipping into subspace.

“Follow me.” Taehyung says.

You walk behind him, still naked except for your panties. Taehyung is still entirely clothed in his suit and tie. He leads you to the fancy living room of the suite, and closes the curtains. You wait until he sits down to approach him. You observe his spread legs and the stern look in his eye. The air in the living room is freezing cold, but it only adds to it. This is one of the many things you love about Taehyung. How incredibly sexy he looks when he is in control.

Without being asked, you get on the sofa on your hands and knees. You drape your body over Taehyung’s lap, ass up in his lap. You fold your arms over the sofa’s armrest, turning your head to look at Taehyung. 

Taehyung’s warm hand caresses your ass. He kneads at the flesh roughly without breaking eye contact with you. On the outside, he looks indifferent, dark eyes sultry. He makes it look like he couldn't care less if it was you or another sub being bent to his will. But you know it’s part of the scene, that he’s watching you this intensely for your reaction and it is only your reaction he ever wants in a setting like this.

“You can safeword out if you need to.” He reminds you. You nod, putting your head against the armrest. “Count.” He tells you, before the first smack comes down.

You flinch on instinct, but his arm pins the backs of your thighs down. “One.”

Another smack but to the other cheek. You hiss under your breath. “Two.”

Taehyung gives the next three in succession. “F-Five.”

“Colour?” Taehyung re-checks. You reply green again. He delivers two more. “Six, ah, seven.”

The next two smacks are harsher. “Eight, nine一!” As you’re counting, Taehyung gives the final one. This one is the hardest of all, making the two of you sink a little lower into the sofa. “T-Ten.”

You are crying now, falling deeper into your subspace. Taehyung’s warm hands smooth over the places they hit. His voice murmurs sweet nothings in your ear, reassuring you.

“S-Sorry.” You continue to cry. “I didn’t mean to be like that.”

“I know.” Taehyung reassures you. He helps you up into a sitting position. It burns to sit on your still painful ass, but you do so anyway because it’s Taehyung who asks you to do it. “You took my punishment very well, Y/N, just like a good girl.”

You shake your head, sniffling. “I don’t wanna be ‘a good girl’, I wanna be your good girl.” You say. Taehyung frowns slightly as he wonders what that means, then looks shocked when he realizes what you’re saying.

“You are my good girl, baby.” He says softly, wiping away your tears. “No one but you.”

“But i-it was our a-anniversary dinner and you were letting her flirt with you. You just一just let her do it. And when I called you baby at the restaurant, you only called me Y/N.” You confess, giving up your fake confident act. The truth is that despite your anger in the moment, you had felt very insecure. It wasn’t like you could blame the woman for finding your boyfriend hot, anyone would. But the fact that Taehyung never said anything back and just put up with it instead of correcting her bothered you. Was it embarrassing to admit he was dating you in front of a woman who was so obviously his equal in elegance? This thought bothered you throughout the whole dinner. 

You didn’t plan on telling Taehyung about it, since he didn’t know you sometimes felt this way. One of the reasons you insisted on travelling to make up for your missed anniversary was this doubt. Maybe if you showed him around this fancy city and you made good memories with him, he might appreciate it. Maybe then it would ease your doubt of if you were worthy enough to be his.

You had never admitted this aloud to anyone, but you actually wondered If Taehyung had women in other countries that he went on dates with during tour. You know Taehyung is a good person but after all, he is a young man with sexual needs. And at that, a very attractive man who could get with just about any woman he wanted. So yes, seeing him talk to the very attractive woman had angered you, but it also made you feel like your worst fears might be true. 

“Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Taehyung pleads you, his worried brown eyes searching your face for any answers.

“...Can I ask you a question?” 

“Of course, my love.” Taehyung responds. “Ask me anything you want, baby.’

You sniffle. You play with his suit blazer. “Can you promise to not get mad at me?”

Taehyung looks like he might cry when you ask that. “I promise.”

“When you go away for tour...is there anyone else?” You watch your own tears fall onto Taehyung’s dress shirt. Taehyung looks shaken. “It might seem random but I’ve always wondered. I promise I’m not just acting up because of tonight.”

Taehyung continues to watch you, looking worried and at a loss for words. You put on a fake smile. “Sorry, it’s probably nothing. Let’s just go to bed.” 

Taehyung holds you by the waist, stopping you from getting up. “Y/N.”

“I said it’s fine. It’s okay. Really, even if you had another woman. I can’t control what you do when you’re not with me. A year is too long for a couple to spend apart anyway, it’s only natural that your feelings would change. It’s okay. Anyway,” You breathe shakily. “Anyway I’m still yours. As long as you like, of course.”

“Of course I like it.” Taehyung insists, tears glistening in his eyes. “I love you. Tell me how long you’ve felt like this.”

You hesitate. “Y/N.” There it is again, that firm tone that you hate outside of scenes. 

You look down at your hands. “Maybe two years?”

Taehyung is crying now, and he cups your face in his hands. “You’ve been thinking like this for two years? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“...I didn’t want to burden you. You’re really busy on tour.”

Taehyung purses his lips. “Can I show you there’s no one else?”

You nod. Taehyung lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He holds you by the backs of your thighs instead of your ass, careful not to hurt you. “The bed?” He asks. You consider the feeling of the rough sheets against your sore ass. 

You shake your head. “C-Can we use the hot tub?”

Taehyung kisses your forehead. “Anything for you.”

Taehyung sets up the hot tub for both of you. He takes your panties off for you, sliding them down your legs. He kisses you deeply, sweetly. You whimper into the kiss, his tongue completely in control of your mouth. When you part, a strand of saliva comes loose. When you part far enough, the saliva ends up on your chin. Taehyung wipes it with his thumb. A darkness has entered his eyes again. “Get in. Let me show you how much I love you.”

You get in the hot tub, relishing the feeling of the hot water. It stings a bit, but it’s easier to sit then the bed would have been. You sit with your legs spread slightly, calves tucked under you and feet beneath your ass. Neat and pretty. Just the way sir likes it.

Taehyung strips quickly once you’re in the water. Your eyes roam over his beautiful body, at the hard muscle of his chest, his bulging biceps, his caramel thighs, and his rigid cock. “Come here.” Taehyung orders as he gets in the water. You do so, climbing up into his lap. He kisses you hungrily, like this is the first time all night. You are surprised at the intensity of this kiss. You cannot recall a time Taehyung has ever kissed you so passionately in your years together, even in your roughest scenes. 

“So pretty.” Taehyung growls when you two part again. He wraps one arm around your waist to press your chest against his, then attacks your neck. You gasp as he makes love bites, all the way down your neck. He has never made this many before in total, yet he makes them everywhere tonight. He litters your collarbone and the top of your chest with them, making them bloom red at first but you know they will be a deep purple shade tomorrow. “How can you not know what you mean to me, when you’re this fucking beautiful? You drove me crazy in your dress tonight, no, you drive me crazy every fucking time I see you. Maybe even since the first time I met you.”

“S-Sir.” You moan at the praise, face heating up. Taehyung pushes you back against the wall of the hot tub. You tilt your head back against the tiles as he touches you everywhere. He uses his hands to tease at your nipples, making them harden. Even as he does it, he is grinding down on you. You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. 

“You fucking know I am.” Taehyung snaps, losing the careful composure he wears during scenes. “You’re my one and my only. Look at yourself, so fucking lewd, all worked up by my touch. You have me wrapped around your finger and you still think I’d have another woman.” He continues, cursing in between his sentences at your sweet sounds.

“S-Sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry.” Taehyung cuts you off. You let out moans as he starts rubbing at your clit, hard and fast. You grind against his hand. In his dom persona, Taehyung would never tolerate you doing this, but both of you are too far gone tonight to follow the rules to a T. “I will clear this misunderstanding tonight. On your knees, princess.” 

You lean on top of the towel Taehyung placed for you on the tiles. Taehyung places his own knees outside of yours, and you feel his hard cock against your ass. Taehyung eases two fingers into you, wet from your arousal that it’s an easy fit. “Nnn, sir.” You plead, grinding down on him. 

“You won’t get more until you say what I want to hear.” Taehyung says next to your ear. He presses his chest into your back, pinning you to the edge of the hot tub. “Who do you belong to?”

“Sir! I belong to sir!” You cry out, and Taehyung picks up the pace.

“So fucking pretty.” Taehyung praises, kissing the marks he left on your neck. “Only you get treated like this, understand? No woman could ever be loved like this by me. Every time you forget I will bend you over my lap and make you come on my cock over and over until you get it in your head.”

You let out a particularly loud moan at that, making Taehyung smirk. “Does my princess like that, hmm? You want to get bent over and take my cock all the time? Want me to fill you up with my come, plug you with a pretty little toy, and make you go about your day?” Taehyung inserts another finger and the stretch has you whining. “Answer me.” He demands.

“I do. Ah, fuck, Taehyung. Please. I do.” You plead, tilting your head to the side. Taehyung meets you immediately in a passionate kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth, completely different from Taehyung’s usual style. Is this really what he can do when he lets go? You wonder, getting drunk on his kisses alone. You thought Taehyung had been rough before, but it’s nothing compared to tonight.

“Turn around.” Taehyung says, withdrawing his fingers. 

He takes in your needy expression, leaning in to kiss you again like he can’t get enough of you. “Can I come in you, baby? Have you been taking your pill regularly?” 

“Yes. Yes.” You chant. Taehyung laughs breathlessly, grabbing a fistful of your hip in one hand and lining himself up to your entrance.

When he enters, both of you moan. “So good. Whose are you, princess?”

“Yours, only yours.” You answer breathlessly. Taehyung grips your thighs and lifts you slightly, allowing him to enter you more deeply. 

Taehyung abruptly picks up the pace of his thrusts. You grip at his shoulders for support, unable to stop the noises that fall from your lips constantly. Not only is Taehyung going fast, he is also going incredibly deep, rubbing right over your G-spot. 

“C-Can I come, sir?” You beg.

Taehyung nods, and you move one hand between your legs to rub at your clit. As you tip your head back, Taehyung holds himself deep inside you. Both of you come at the same time, you clench hard around him and Taehyung pumps his seed inside you. He kisses at the marks on your neck as he comes, and you dig your nails into his back. 

You move your hand to his hair once you finish, stroking it gently. Taehyung pulls back from the wall, his hand smoothing down your back to ease any discomfort you felt being pressed against it. You don’t even notice until the postcoital bliss dies down that your ass was now more sore than before. But Taehyung does. 

“Let’s take a shower.” He tells you, helping you up. You both get out of the hot tub. Taehyung runs a small handcloth under the tap. He comes over and wipes your vagina down first, then cleaning himself. 

The two of you get in the shower together. You let Taehyung wash your body down, scrubbing gently and avoiding touching your ass. You grab his shampoo off the ledge and put a good amount in your palms. “What are you doing?” Taehyung asks, surprised that you turned around while he was washing your back.

“Taking care of you.” You mumble, washing Taehyung hair for him. You grab the detachable showerhead from the side. You shield his eyes with a hand as you rinse the soap out.

Taehyung smiles fondly at how concentrated you look. “Baby, a dom is supposed to look after their sub following a scene. Not the other way.”

You shrug. You probably heard that somewhere. Your brain is too foggy right now to think. “But I want to.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yes.” You answer, smiling at how nice Taehyung’s hair looks now that it’s clean. “Because I belong to you.”

Taehyung lightly pecks your forehead. “And I’m yours.”

Later, when the haze of your subspace wears off, you two are laying in bed together. You’re wearing one of Taehyung’s shirts and a pair of panties. Taehyung is shirtless and in a pair of boxers. Taehyung has just finished putting lotion on your sore bottom to ease the ache for tomorrow. 

You lay on top of Taehyung’s chest, and Taehyung tucks the blankets tucked in around you. You snuggle up against his chest, content in his strong arms.

“Y/N, I know I already proved my point, but you really are my only one.” Taehyung tells you. You don’t reply so he cranes his head to look at you. Taehyung smiles fondly to notice you’re already asleep. He kisses the top of your head. “No problem. I guess I have the rest of my life to prove it to you.” He mutters to himself.

You smile to yourself with your eyes closed.

Requests are open (✿◡‿◡)

[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

I love your writings, they’re so good and realistic and not weird and cringe like some others on here, by far the best I’ve seen in a while !! Was just wondering if you’re taking requests and if so if you could do one when your an actress and have always had a crush on him but you meet him at an after party at a premier or something and have flirty banter and maybe more ? Thankyou x

hello my lovely x

this is so unbelievably sweet I've been screaming since this popped into my inbox. I wanted to start this off by saying a massive thank you - this is my first ever requested piece and I am so excited to be able to create something for you! this is a milestone fic: the 10th fic that I've written for tom, and is also one of my longest!! I also want to apologise for how long it has taken me; I started on this a while ago now and you have been so patient and kind! please enjoy and let me know what you think! (also the timing that this is now coming out on his birthday is all the spook!!) 

after party antics || tom holland x reader

word count: 2729 warnings: alcohol use summary: premiere after party meet cute

Circular tables filled the floor as glittering chandeliers hung low from the ceilings above. Pretty foliage and large blooming fresh flowers in pastel pinks, greens and blues, draped through the room, entangling themselves around chairs and across wooden beams. Lace, satin and chiffon brushed along the floors as what felt like the entire film industry conversed with one another; hands clutching at suit jacketed arms, glasses clinking in cheers. 

Music, chatter, camera flashes and laughing filled the room - sounds reverberating all around. You glide through the crowds, smiling and nodding your thanks as people congratulated you from either side.

Taking a detour from your path, you spotted the signs for the bathroom and let out a shaky exhale when it appeared empty. Resting your hands on the wash basin and closing your eyes, you took a couple of deep breaths before your face erupted into a toothy grin, a small squeal of excitement bubbling from your lips.

You were at an after-party.

For your very first film.

Surrounded by some of Hollywood’s finest.

WHAT!

If your best friend woke you up stating that this was all some insane dream, you wouldn’t be surprised. It would make more sense, actually – this just couldn’t be your life.

You could feel yourself spiralling and spritzed a little bit of water onto your face to calm yourself down, making sure not to ruin the amazing make-up look that your team had spent so long perfecting earlier that day.

The premiere had only just finished.

You had walked across the red carpet on wobbly legs – cameras flashing, thousands of fans screaming from behind barriers, photographers and press overpowering each other in order to get the best angles and shots; screaming for you to ‘look over here’, ‘turn to the side.’

The premiere had only just finished up as you sat amongst a drool-worthy cast; some of the biggest names in Hollywood. Joining such a large cast was daunting, especially considering who some of those people were – and more so since it was with Marvel, one of - if not the - biggest film franchises out there.

You took another look in the mirror, tucking your hair behind your ears and smoothing down the front. Giving a twirl in your signature Teuta Matoshi gown, the tulle dress embroidered with tiny little yellow daffodils and white daisies, you took a moment to admire your favourite designer as you adjusted the slightly puffed sleeves before leaving the restroom.

You held the door open behind you to allow for a gaggle of tall women to enter in beautiful flowing gowns, turning abruptly to shift yourself out of the way - smiling at them as they all smiled back.

Up on the tips of your toes, wobbling slightly in your heels, you try to peer over the heads of the masses of people. You were eagerly looking for your team, consisting of your incredible manager and your best friend, who you dragged everywhere with you. But you could barely see past the sea of heads in front of you.

You decided to head for the heavy, wide double-set doors that stood open, leading out into the freshly manicured gardens; alive with luscious trees, plants and flowerbeds. A separate dirt path led into a lowly lit rose garden that was nestled in amongst the grasses.

It was a little quieter outside, but not by much.

There was a large marquee to your immediate left. A bar was situated at one end as bottles were flipped in the air - waiters passing out trays lined with champagne flutes. Pristinely clothed tables were crowded with guests; bodies tumbled past you as they headed into the marquee - parties splitting into different locations now that the main event had concluded, leading into a very alive and wild after party. 

Your cheeks ached as the smile on your face refused to drop. Too amazed by your surroundings to let it relax. You stand out on the patio area, looking out across the gardens towards the glow of the city in the distance, lights twinkling in exchange for stars. Despite the dry warmth of the evening you could feel the lightest of winds raising the tiny hairs on your arms. 

“Room for another?”

You jumped slightly at the interruption, the voice light and questioning. You turn, your dress dancing around you.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting. I’m Tom, I’ve been meaning to introduce myself all night. Congratulations on the film!”

As you exchange pleasantries, your cheeks gathering up some heat beneath the radiant glow of your make-up, he presses forwards leaning in for a hug as you do the same. You can feel his hands against the bare skin at your back leaving behind tiny little goose-bumps in their place, your skin tingling from his touch. You couldn’t help but breathe in his cologne, the pleasant woodsy scent engulfing you.

“Ah, so you’re the spider guy? I think I’m getting the hang of these superhero names now.”

Your lips twitch, forming a playful smile.

He tilts his head ever so slightly to the side, eyeing you up as tiny crinkles appeared around the outside of his eyes. They were looking at you inquisitively with a sweet kind of intensity.

You could feel your heart kick up a notch under his gaze. You scolded yourself internally for your lack of composure. Of course, you knew who Spider-Man was, you’d been such a fan of the Marvel films for years and you’d have to have been blind not to notice the cute, brown haired, quick witted, web-slinger who the world quickly fell in love with. They weren’t the only ones; did he look even better in person? How was that even fair? You shook your head slightly at your thoughts in an attempt to dispel them from your conscious.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I’m a fan of yours – your work is brilliant.”

You continued on with your bumbling word vomit – a light pink blush evident across your cheekbones and nose.

Tom’s face lights up more as you stumble over your sentences, his eyes glistening in the darkening sky.

“Oh really? Big fan, hm?” He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, before calling upon one of the many smartly dressed men and women swooping seamlessly through the crowds with their glossy black trays.

You take a moment to drink him in. His crisp navy suit sat comfortably unbuttoned, the satin shirt hugging the figure beneath. He looked older than you’d seen him portray onscreen; his jaw strong and chiselled. His shoulders and body filled out his suit comfortably, hair beautifully fluffed; although it did seem slightly rumpled, as though he had been running his hands through it.

“Oh yeah,” You paused for a beat before continuing, “Then again, I think you’re about the 30th actor I’ve said that to tonight.”

He nods, laughing, his eyes lighting up at your relaxed, playful energy.

“Oh. Okay, nice. No, I see how it is. New girl keeping us all on our toes with the flattery.”

He holds one of the crystal champagne flutes out to you before picking up his own. Shimmering, golden liquid danced as you accepted the glass, fingertips brushing over open palms.

The cool bubbles gently slid down your throat. You could feel eyes on you as you focussed on the glass in your hand.

“Have you met everyone yet?” Tom gestured towards to the lit-up marquee, “A lot of us were talking about how great you were in your film, they’ll want to meet you.”

“Now who’s full of the flattery,” You tease, nudging his arm slightly as he shakes his head at you, “But honestly, I haven’t, I’m kind of finding it all a little bit intimidating. I’ve also lost my team which is not helpful.”

You took another sweep of the area. Now low-key wishing that you wouldn’t find them for a little while, not if it meant that you could continue to talk with Tom with no interruptions.

“Well hey, I can introduce you? I was so terrified when I did my first Marvel premiere, but everyone is so great. Trust me. It’s like a strange, crazy dysfunctional family. I think you fit in perfectly.”

“Are you calling me strange, crazy and dysfunctional? You have an interesting way of making friends, Holland.” You both laugh, “Only if you’re sure though? I don’t want you to be stuck introducing me all night.”

“Don’t be silly. We’ll make it fun. C’mon.”

Tom led you through the entrance of the marquee, turning on the charm as people fist bumped or pulled him in for a quick hug or handshake. Every time they did he peered through his eyelashes at you, inviting you to introduce yourself.

As you made jokes and conversed with your new peers, Tom couldn’t stop himself from watching you. Your name had been all the buzz recently and he’d been eager to meet you. Not only because you were undoubtedly going to be working with each other on future projects, but because you were also getting thrown into the Marvel spotlight like he had been. Little did he realise just how enamoured he had become with you in such a short space of time. There was something about you, he thought, as your cheeks glowed, a wide grin resting upon your face, eyes dancing wildly as you spoke with your new peers - something that he felt drawn to. You noticed him staring and gave him a little wink, shaking him out of it as he joined back into the conversation.

****

The two shot glasses sloppily thump against the bar top.

“Ha!”

“What! No, I was totally first!” Tom protested loudly, throwing his hands into the air.

“I definitely beat you!”

You smiled politely at the bartender as he collected the row of glasses lined up in front of you before turning wildly to face Tom.

“You just can’t face the fact that I won.”

He gestures to his brother who had pulled up a stool to join you both, “Harry c’mon, I won right?!”

“You can’t ask him that, it’s cheating. He’s your brother, of course he’s going to pick your side.”

“Tom, I hate to say this mate but I think she has you beat…” Harry said regretfully, camera slung around his neck as he nursed his own drink, mouth falling into an upturned grin as he supervised the pair of you.

You looked past Tom, straight at Harry, grinning proudly, “I take it back, Harry’s opinion is very important.”

Tom gives Harry a gentle shove as they mess around. You feel an arm slink around your shoulders, giving a playfully gentle squeeze. Your heart thumps along to the beat of the bass, music pulsing through your very bones as the three of you continued to laugh and joke around. Tom’s hair had gotten far more rumpled as the night had gone on, a long way off the perfectly styled look that he’d started off with.

You decided you preferred it messy.

Tom was sitting close by you on his stool, your knees both knocking together. His foot was tapping the footrest to the beat of the music. He’d discarded his suit jacket, and it now hung from the back of the chair, leaving him in his fitted shirt. You couldn’t help but notice his defined muscles as he ran a hand through his hair before resting it on the back of your seat.

“You look really pretty tonight. I saw you walking the carpet earlier, you completely owned it up there.”

“Tom Holland, are you flirting with me?”

You spun in your seat a little bit, making direct eye contact as your hand rested gently on his knee.

As soon as the pair of you had challenged each other to a drinking competition (involving a lot of shots) the night flew by, and you found yourself becoming more and more comfortable with Tom. He was quickly going from that cute actor who you had a little crush on, to someone you were actually spending time with? The intimidation you were feeling from earlier had dissipated, leaving you feeling slightly fuzzy and very happy.

He shrugs, that cheeky grin appearing again. A twinkle shining within those gorgeous brown eyes.

“I don’t know. Am I?”

He slides off of his seat, holding a hand out to you, palm up.

“C’mon.”

“Where are we going?” You questioned, as Harry returned with the drinks.

“Dance floor.”

You can feel your face light up as you hopped down from the high stool, gripping onto Tom’s hand as he helped navigate you back down to solid ground. He whispered to his brother who comfortably started up a conversation with the people around him, before giving him a pat on the shoulder as you dragged him over to the dance floor.

The floor was already packed with bodies. A live DJ station was against one wall facing out into the crowd; flashing, swirling lights brightened up the outdoor space. You pointed out a space in amongst the crowd and Tom led you both towards it, far better at making a path through the wayward limbs than you would have been.

The space was small, and the pair of you were in extremely close proximity. This was the most at ease you’d felt all night, allowing yourself to just feel the music and dance with one of the sweetest, most charming and insanely attractive men you’d possibly ever met. The space quickly filled up, growing tighter until you and Tom were practically chest to chest. He was a quick mover; his hips, legs and arms moving in all the right directions.

Your bodies were pressed together tightly, rapid heartbeats beating as one.

He leans in, pressing up against your side, brushing some stray hairs out of your face, “I also meant what I said earlier. You’re really beautiful tonight.”

“Just tonight?” You whisper into his ear, leaving him to flounder slightly on the dance floor. A little colour flushed to his cheeks as he lifted an arm, spinning you under it.

Before he has a chance to answer, you continue.

“You don’t scrub up too badly yourself, Holland.”

As the two of you lock eyes; the heat from the dance floor, the pounding of the music and the dancing, twinkling lights all fade to the background. His eyes dart to your lips, and you can't help but follow his lead, when you can suddenly hear your name being called out in the crowd.

"Oh my god, I got her. We've been looking for you for ages!" You were suddenly no longer face to face with the cute boy but instead looking into the slightly stressed face of your manager, "It's nearly 4am, the car is here and we gotta go!" She took a moment to look between you and Tom, who suddenly now looked a little bit embarrassed and sheepish - nervously rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Oh. Sorry, I've interrupted something here, haven't I?" She awkwardly made her way back through the crowd after whispering a sorry in your direction.

You smile at Tom, and make your way out from the dance floor. He was close behind you, nodding to a group of people back up at the bar.

He pulls you in for a goodbye hug, embracing you similarly to how you'd hugged earlier in the evening. Except this time was full of promise and a strange tension that hadn't been present before. You could feel the goosebumps prickle your skin where he touched it - his hands gentle as he held them tight around your waist, breathing you in before pulling away.

"Thank you for tonight, Tom. I owe you, seriously."

As you hurriedly caught up to your team, dress fluttering behind you as you immediately begin laughing and chatting animatedly to them, you could feel eyes on you. You looked back as you continued to vacate the marquee and head for the cars out front. Tom was stood, staring after you, a bright smile on his lips.

Something told you this wasn't the last you'd hear from him, and your stomach flip-flopped immediately at the very thought of seeing him again after tonight. For now however, the image of the brown haired, glossy eyed young man smiling after you in awe would have to be enough.

[thefanficmonster]

What A Day 💝

Sykkuno x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF

Summary: Going to the store at any point between the 1st and the 21st of February is a literal nightmare for anyone without a significant other. All products in shades of red and pink, made especially to steal money from love-struck people. Sykkuno has honestly had it with having to deal with the shelves at stores laughing at him and his relationship status. Luckily, on a trip to Target, exactly on Valentine’s Day, he runs into someone who thinks the same.

Requested by Anon. Hello lovely person! Thank you so much for this wonderful request you’ve sent me! I’m so happy to be able to fulfill it and I hope it does your idea justice and I hope you enjoy the read! Happy Valentine’s Day! Love, Vy 💝

Sykkuno feels like he has entered a red and pink maze. His head is spinning slightly, his eyes only seeing shades of the bold color all around him. It’s downright impossible to ignore and combined with the mob of people rushing to get their hands on a last minute gift for their significant other, it’s suffocating. He couldn’t have run out of shampoo on a more inconvenient day than today. Valentine’s Day. Or as him and his friends like to think of it - anti single people day. I mean seriously, going to a store on Valentine’s Day while single has to be the most nightmarish experience.

Sykkuno isn’t one to care about relationships much, he has come to terms with the concept that no one is really interested in him - a concept of his own creation, mind you. A concept he blindly believes despite there being so many people to convince otherwise and change his mind. He has grown accustomed to the single life and if asked he always replies with the standard ‘Alone and happy’ response, accompanied by a small smile as if to prove that he is indeed happy. And he is, as long as he doesn’t start spiraling in thought he is rather content with what he’s got - an amazing group of fans, thousands and thousands of loyal fans, a job he loves. A romantic relationship has never been in his top priorities. But every now and then, he wishes he had it.

This is an example of one of those times. 

Though everyone around him is mildly stressed and in a rush, they each have a place to be. A place where a person of importance to them is waiting for them. A person who will greet them with a smile, hug and kiss. A person they’ll spend the rest of the day with, sharing laughs and memorable moments that will make this day special. Cause that’s what it’s really about - chocolates and gifts aside, the most meaningful thing about today is spending time with someone you love. Someone you maybe see everyday yet every time you see them it feels like it’s been long since you last saw each other. Someone you maybe haven’t seen in a long time and this is a way for you two to be brought together. Someone you haven’t been spending enough quality time with and today’s your chance to change that.

He can’t help but feel a pang in his chest at the thought that hits him like a cannonball straight to the chest:

I will never have someone like that

“I KID YOU NOT, IF YOU HANG UP ON ME AGAIN I’M GONNA- HELLO?!“ His spiraling deprecating thoughts are cut off by an angry shriek from the other side of the shelves of products he’s standing in front of.

Sykkuno instinctively backs away from the voice, startled, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. There’s an empty spot in the shelves from where products had been snatched rather quickly, not leaving a single item. Given that it was the perfume section it makes sense. The lack of products allows for a peek on the other side of the shelves, or in the other aisle, to be more precise where he catches a glimpse of a person walking past in one direction, then comes back, then passes by again and so on until they catch him looking and stop dead in their tracks.

The hole is eye-level so the two are staring at one another like a pair of deer caught in headlights. Sykkuno feels the need to apologize for peeping in on their frustration breakdown which was probably supposed to be private, but then again it happened in the middle of a damn supermarket so he can’t really be blamed for checking to see what the commotion was about. But him being himself, apologizing is his first instinct.

Just as he opens his mouth, the person on the other side lifts two heart shaped boxes, “Hey stranger, sorry to interrupt your spying, but I’ve already called like three people to ask which of these is better at curing a lonely heart but they all hung up on me without giving me an answer so...” they trail off, shaking the two boxes of chocolates as if to attract his attention to them, “what do you think?”

He’s caught off-guard, to say the least. They dropped so much on him in a single breath he suspects they are now seeing spots in their vision due to momentary lack of oxygen. He wants to laugh it off but something tells him they are serious, “Oh, um, sorry, I’ve never had either.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Try eenie meenie miney mo?” He suggests, giving them a slight shrug of his shoulders.

They look between the two boxes, a in-thought expression on their face, “Screw it!” They finally say, “I’m getting both.” They secure the chocolates under one arm, flashing him with a bright smile, “What are you getting your significant other? Need a second opinion? Being the only single friend in a friend group has gifted me a peculiar but, oddly enough, useful skillset in giving second opinions.”

Once again, so much said so quickly, Sykkuno can barely keep up with them. It’s been a slow day for him so his brain was basically on airplane mode up until now. Thanks to this ball of energy looking back at him his brain has kicked into mega gear, each cell working to remain in step with his correspondent. It’s a nice change of pace - too slow and he gets too self-deprecating, too fast and he feels lost amongst the words being said but with this person, no matter how quickly they’re speaking, the pace seems just right to lighten up his mood and return some liveliness to his being that was taken away by the broody thoughts that were coursing his head moments ago.

“If I could get a significant other, that’d be great. I’ll make sure to ask you for a second opinion then.” He admits timidly, looking away from the bright eyes that keep up bold eye-contact with no hesitation or doubts. He wishes he had at least half their confidence, but sadly he doesn’t. Especially not when faced with someone so courageous and upbeat, someone who seems to always want to be making the most of the time they’re offered, making every second count, making it memorable. He’s never been good at reading people, but this person is an open book with audio to go along with it. A show and tell book of vibrant colors and details that make them stand out and blend in simultaneously. But as they themselves said - they’re lonely. Does it show? Absolutely not. That speaks volumes about what kind of person is standing opposite him right now. Perhaps one he’d like to get to know better.

Or maybe he’s become just a tad too desperate.

“So should I give you my phone number so you can give me a ring when the time comes?“ The sneaky smirk that appears on their face brings a blush to his cheeks, a rush of blood so intense he’s embarrassed to admit it. Though one thing he’d have to admit is: that was a smooth line. “Oh sorry! People usually offer names before phone numbers, right?” They face-palm, shaking their head slightly before extending their hand to him through the hole in the shelves, “I’m Y/N.”

He takes their hand, cheeks still burning but a smile he couldn’t prevent is also gracing his features now, “Sykkuno.”

He can’t help but notice the words written on the inside of their wrist: chocolates, wine, ice-cream, chips and dip; the discovery provokes a chuckle from him which slips out before he could as much as think twice about it. Y/N’s gaze follows where his eyes are looking, stopping on the blue ink on their skin of their wrist and laughs, pulling their arm back, “Yeah, I’m rather forgetful.” They wave their hand nonchalantly before their eyes widen and they reach in their pocket, “Hold on! Give me your hand.”

He’d be a fool not to oblige. They pull out a pen, uncapping it with their teeth and writing a string of numbers on the side of the back of his hand going from the middle of his thumb to his wrist, each number written nicely and boldly, like their personality. It’s not an exaggeration when people say handwriting says a lot about a person - theirs is pretty outspoken that way.

“There!“ They smile after capping the pen again, “Hope you find you’re other half. Whoever they’ll be, they will most definitely be a lucky soul.“ They giggle, readjusting the heart-shaped boxes under their other arm, “It was nice meeting you, Sykkuno. Have a nice day!“

Y/N starts walking away without waiting for him to respond to their goodbye, leaving him somewhat speechless on his end of the shelves. He’s still in the middle of processing what just happened when his eyes land on the phone number on his hand.

I’ll maybe call them, He thinks to himself, looking at the digits of Y/N’s phone number from several angles when suddenly, an idea pops into his head.

Maybe I won’t

Before he’s had time to contemplate his next move, Sykkuno finds himself jogging towards the end of the aisle in hopes he’s not too late. In hopes that he will come across the person he just let slip from his reach like an dummy. He’s had far too many instances in which he accidentally let go of good opportunities, good people, good relationships, he’d hate to repeat mistakes once again.

Luckily, his prayers are heard.

“Y/N?” He calls out to them, catching their attention immediately. They turn around, a curious expression on their face, waiting for him to continue, “Do you, um, have any plans for today?”

Their eyes sparkle as they answer with a laugh, “You saw my grocery list, it should tell you about enough of how I’ll be spending the day.”

That’s a relief like no other. He was actually expecting them to come up with something last minute but his stars are probably well-aligned today, gifting him this luck, “Would you maybe wanna...um, grab coffee? Or lunch? Anything you’d like.” There’s that embarrassing bush again, this time more wide-spread than before and - impressively enough - more intense.

He thought their previous smiles were bright. No, no, no, no. Oh boy, was he wrong. This one! This one smile of theirs puts the sun to shame with its brightness and warmth. With its authenticity and contagiousness. It’s one of a kind. As is Y/N. “I’d love that, Sykkuno. Catch you outside?” They ask, showing their own timid side for the first time adding another element to their cuteness.

“A-absolutely.“ Sykkuno nods energetically, giving them a small wave before booking it straight towards the exits. All the while thinking to himself:

Damn, what a day. Wait...I forgot to buy shampoo, didn’t I?

@khaoticbunny  @smiithys  @chaoticgayandnerdy

[guiltgoreglory]

Heat Waves (Chapter 1: A Warm Welcome)

(Very) Brief Summary: Reader is a government contractor joining the team in Benghazi.  (Eventual Tanto x Reader) (2,684 words)

Chapter 2

Foreword: In this series, the reader will be loosely based off of Nikita from the TV show Nikita (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikita_(TV_series)). The reader has an extensive background in black-ops and is currently an independent contractor working with the department of defense in coordination with the executive branch. If you have any questions about the character, feel free to reach out to me and I can clarify. The story will generally follow the plot of the movie with the exception of a few scenes. Lastly, the POV will shift throughout the story, a change in POV will be signaled by a line.

Author’s Note: Hey guys! I have a full plot already set up but it has been a long time since I’ve written a fic. I’m so sorry if the writing is kinda shitty but I really wanted to get it down in writing. I hope you like it!

You closed your eyes and rested your head against the headrest, trying to find an ounce of comfort in the cramped seat. The dull hum of the plane was cut through by various murmurs amongst the travelers. After a minute or two, you deemed the effort fruitless, letting out a frustrated sigh. Instead, you opened your eyes and looked out the window, watching as the monotonous view trailed by. For the next several weeks, maybe even months, you’d once again become acclimated to discomfort. This shitty seat is probably as good as it gets, you thought. The department will likely have you shacked up in some storage closet on a grimy 20-year-old cot. You have had worse and at least you’d be occupied. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Silva shift. You turned, watching him from a row back, across the aisle. He grimaced as he took off his wedding ring, putting it into a small metal container. He didn’t appear to notice your gaze as you turned your attention back to the window, the heat already radiating in. You felt sorry for him. Leaving people behind is never easy, especially kids. Luckily, you didn’t have that problem. 

As the plane began its descent you skimmed the team comp in your head. You’d been thoroughly briefed on the contractors, on top of all the research you had done on your own. You were joining alongside Jack Silva. A family man in real estate. Pushed to fly back overseas for the money to support his family. From all that you had seen, he’s a good guy. He seemed to be good company. It’ll be nice to not be the only strange face, you thought.

You readied yourself. Benghazi is far worse than most believed. Ever since the department even suggested you might be helpful here, you’d been keeping track of the chaos. It was only a matter of time before it erupted into a full-blown civil war. 

As the landing zone came into view you checked your hijab, making sure not a hair was out of place. You wore a casual white button-down shirt with a gray tank top underneath. You unfolded the sleeves, covering as much of your skin as possible. Given the heat, you’d love to run out in something a little more breathable, but the beige cargo pants would have to do. Next, you checked your “cello” case that sat in the seat next to you. Moving the strap towards you for a quick and effortless disembark. Being you had its perks, one of which was bringing some of your own firepower. 

You cracked your neck as a familiar ding came over the com. 

“Welcome to Benghazi.”

_

The two men settled into the car, watching over all the civilians walking past. Rone leaned forward, pulling a handgun out of the back of his pants. “It’s loaded.” Jack accepted the gun readily, cocking it within his lap. 

“How’s the team here?” 

“Good. Three ex-marines, one ex-army ranger. It’ll be nice to have some more team guys around.”

Jack briefly glanced back at Rone. “Guys?”

“Yeah. We’re waiting on one more before we head out.”

“You work with him before?”

“Nope. Defense department assigned her.”

Jack furrowed his brow slightly, pursing his lips in surprise. “Alrighty then, what’s she look like?” Jack looked more intently for another westerner standing out like a sore thumb. 

“No idea. I’ve been told that she will find us.”

“Oh how ominous.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lip. 

Rone hummed in agreement as he eyed the rearview mirror. Out of the crowd, a body began to beeline towards the car. “Think that’s her.”

Jack nonchalantly stretched, turning towards the back of the car to catch a look. 

_

You approached the dust-covered truck, already craving shade from the burning sun. Your sunglasses did little to protect your eyes from the glare off of the ground. As you got closer, you could see Tyrone eying you from the side mirrors. You adjusted the straps of both your cello case and your duffel, making sure not to make any sudden movements. You made your way to the driver’s side door, turning to face him. “You Tyrone?” you asked, knowing full well it was.

“Yes, Ma’am. And you are?”

“Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Hop in.”

You nodded, moving back towards the rear of the car. Swinging the back door open, you threw your stuff onto the ground next to the seat. Leaving just enough room for you to climb in. As you sat down, you angled yourself towards Jack so that you could have a proper introduction. He noticed your movement, turning back to face you. He reached out his hand for a handshake. 

“Jack Silva”

You took his hand. “Y/N.” 

He settled back into his seat as Rone started the car. “Just Y/N?”

“Just Y/N.” You affirmed. 

As Rone made his way through the city they began to catch up, making friendly jabs at each other. You yanked your duffel towards you, rummaging through the various clothes. You could feel Jack’s eyes peeking at you ever so often through the mirror, making sure you weren’t doing anything unsavory. Trust is earned.  Finally, you found your shoulder holster. You unbuttoned your shirt, throwing it on the seat beside you. You put on the holster, adjusting the straps as needed so that it sat comfortably. After you were satisfied you again began to look through your luggage, pulling out two black pistols. You loaded a magazine into both of the guns. The sound quickly drew the attention of both men as the conversation briefly paused before they returned to their conversation. You paid them no mind, knowing that any response would probably make them more antsy. You then cocked them before placing them within your holster. Grabbing your shirt, you put it back on, leaving it unbuttoned. It was opaque enough to conceal your firearms as long as no one looked too close. 

“So, Y/N,” Rone directing the conversation towards you, “The Defense Department didn’t tell me much about you. What branch you from?” 

You turned from watching out the side of the car. “Covert operations.” 

That definitely piqued his interest. Jack let Rone do the questioning, but it was clear he was just as curious as him. 

“Alright. SEAL Team?”

“Uh, no. It’s a little more complicated.”

“Oh I get it, you’re on some James Bond shit huh.” He chuckled to himself as you smiled and rolled your eyes.

“Pretty much.”

Rone left the questioning there, knowing he’d probably not get much more of an answer, at least not until you’d come to know him a bit better. The two of them shared a look before the car came to a sudden stop. 

“Shit. No, no, no, no, no this isn’t good.” Rone’s body tensed as he assessed the situation. 

Civilians began to run around the car, whimpering in fear. You straightened up, readying for a shit show. You positioned yourself in the middle of the back, between the two men so you could see as much as possible through the windshield. 

“Fuck.” Rone’s discomfort quickly seeped through his cool resolve. “Who the fuck are these guys?” 

“What do we got?” Jack stayed still, his eyes scanning over the various armed men.

“Brigade we coordinate with, February Seventeenth Martyrs. This ain’t them.” He looked back past you and he switched into reverse. Moving back a few feet, the path was blocked and the car jolted forward. “Shit we’re boxed in.”

You settled on your knees, carefully unclipping the straps keeping your guns in place, just in case. Both men leaned out of the window. Jack looking up towards the man on the balcony readied to run.

“We bailing?” He asked, voice calm and collected.

Rone, giving no response, pulled out his radio. “Base this is Rone. Come in, over.”

“This is Base, go Rone.”

“I’m in a Jam off Fifth Ring Road. I’m lookin’ at about 8 armed tangos here.”

“Copy that, sit tight.”

“Sit tight, that’s great advice.” Everyone in the car became increasingly more agitated as the armed militia made its way in your direction. 

You took a deep breath. “If we’re bailing we gotta do it now.” You glanced at your bags. You could leave the duffel. There wasn’t anything particularly important in there. The case on the other hand couldn’t be lost to a rampant terrorist cell, if you did, the government would be up your ass about it for at least another 10 years. You fidgeted slightly, knowing that the opportunity to flee was about to pass.

Jack clenched his jaw. “They got a KPV.”

Fuck this is bad. 

“Base we ain’t got all day.”

“Hey, Rone. They’re trying to get Feb 17 to back you up, but we’re coming.”

Deeming that transmission utterly useless, Rone whipped out his cell. “Oz I’m in a jam of Fifth Ring.”

“Ty.” Jack interjected as the men became uncomfortably close.

“Rone, 17 Feb QRF is being alerted.”

“Fuck that, the only Quick Reaction force I want is my guys.” Without an immediate response, Rone continued on. “Send them. I want my guys.” He said more adamantly. 

“Negative, Rone. Just hang in there.”

“Maybe I’m not making myself clear. I’m looking at multiple radical insurgents with AKs and a 50-cal technical set to blow my rover all the way back to Zimbabwe. Over.”

You watched as a man dressed in a disheveled suit made his way around the vehicles and debris. He’s the big guy.

“It’s not my call, brother.”

Goddamnit. Looks like we’re either talking our way through this, or we go out quick. The thought gave you the slightest bit of comfort.

Rone looked towards Jack frustrated. You could sense he felt an inch of guilt for getting his friend stuck in this hellhole.

“Here we go.” Jack said nonchalantly as he could given the circumstances.

You crossed your arms, giving yourself easy access to your handguns without looking too conspicuous. A man stood at the front of the rover, yelling something you couldn’t understand. He pointed his AK right at you, maybe it wasn’t on purpose but you couldn’t help but mentally scoff. Well, that’s not very nice.

“Welcome to Benghazi.”

The man in front banged on the hood as the leader moved towards the driver’s side window. Jack raised his hands up innocently as Rone smiled at the man. 

“Salaam.” Rone raised his badge up to the man in the suit as he gazed at him incredulously. “Libyan visa. Official. Libyan government.” The leader looked him up and down. 

The guy with the AK was now in Jack’s face. His gaze shifted forward, doing his best to remain calm despite the barrel of a gun being inches from his forehead.

“Friendly? Hm? Friendly?” Rone again gestured with his badge.

Rone whatever game you’re playing it better fucking work because last time I checked a friend of Al-Qaeda is no friend of ours. You did your best to blend into the back of the car, feigning as the harmless woman. 

“Pull over for inspection.” The leader said sternly.

Rone shook his head. “No.” 

“Pull over for inspection!” He was now angry, his voice shaking with every word.

Alright, this is how it’s gonna go. You crept your hands slightly closer to your guns.

Rone’s voice remained steady. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t do that.”

The man at Jack’s door yelled once more. Banging his palm against the dirty surface. Then the slightest movement came from Jack. 

It’s showtime. You thought. You gripped your pistols and whipped them forward, pointing them as the secondary soldier positioned at the front of the rover. Jack and Rone acted similarly with Jack’s gun pointed across at the leader, and Rone’s gun pointed at the soldier beside the door. The soldier at the front adjusted his AK, pointing it more fervently towards the car. 

“Look up.” Rone pointed towards the sky with his empty hand, never moving his gaze from the leader’s eyes. “Go ahead, look up.” Some of the aggression left the leader as he looked towards the sky, confused. “You see the drone?” The man looked back down. “No? That’s okay. The drone sees you.”

Nice play, Rone. You thought to yourself. A couple of Americans? No problem. We don’t pose that much of a threat. But good ol’ American air support? Now that carries a little weight. 

“Sees your face. We know who you are.”

Jack, facing the soldier at his door, swallows hard. Keeping with Rone’s power play, he maintains eye contact.

“If anything happens to us, your home, your family, boom, gone. Give us the order to let us go.”

Jack, looking past the AK in his face, doesn’t flinch as the soldier gestures with his gun.

 “I want the car!” 

Within a brief moment, Jack and Rone switched their aim, with Jack now pointing his handgun at the soldier and Rone at the leader. You flinched ever so slightly at the movement, but you remained steady, watching for any worrisome movement amongst the militia. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. You ignored the harsh metal of the rover digging into your knees. This was your guys’ only shot to make it out of this cramped alley. They had to think your little caravan of three had the power of the entire U.S. military revolving overhead when in reality, you were just three Americans with a couple of guns in the middle of fuckin nowhere.

“No, I’m not gonna do that.” Jack shakes his head, leaning forward towards the man. The energy around the car was beginning to shift. Despite the KPV having enough firepower to destroy your car, and about 5 cars behind you, you three possessed the upper hand. They recoiled at the barrel of your guns, not the other way around.

The leader’s eyes began to soften, his harsh exterior falling at the thought of losing everything. For a moment, you actually pitied him. “I earn the right to decide the future of my country.” You understood the sentiment behind his words. Once again the U.S. had shoved itself into the center of a country, with no right to do so. But you, and the men sat beside you, just wanted to keep others safe. You had no agenda.

“You’re talking to the wrong guy. How willing are you to die for your country? I’m ready to go right here, right now.” Easy, Tyrone. Don’t push it too far. 

The leader’s frown deepened as he considered the weight of Rone’s words. He slowly backed away from the car. “Leave here. While you still can.”

You stopped yourself from relaxing your figure even though it felt like the weight of the world had just been lifted off your shoulders. Rone leaned back into his seat, beginning to maneuver the car between the debris. Jack slowly lowered his pistol to the door as the car inched forward. You followed suit and lowered your guns into your lap. You could hear the leader yelling to his men, and their posture relaxed enough to show they weren’t an immediate threat. Air filled your lungs for the first time in what felt like 5 minutes, before you looked behind through the dusty back window, making sure the leader was true to his word and you weren’t about to get shot in the back. You settled back onto your seat, leaning back against the warm metal. You debated holstering your weapons but decided it was best to have them at the ready until you were within the walls of the base.

“We got air support?” Jack’s voice was calm but demanding. You knew the answer to his question but left Rone to give him the bad news. Rone didn’t take his eyes off of the road as he did his best to make it back to base in one piece. 

“We don’t have any fucking support.”

[sope-and-shine]

When World’s Collide: Pt. 2

-> Pairing: Moon God!Taehyung x Fate!Reader ->  SFW // fluff, angst, humor // enemies to lovers!au, soulmate!au -> Word Count: 20.1k -> Summary: Taehyung has spent most of his life ignored by his peers and alone on his barren planet. So when a lonely King reaches out to him in hopes to bring his love to him, how could he ignore his plea? However, it’s not good to mess with Fate, and it’s even worse to make the same mistake twice. -> Warnings: mild language, the reader is a bad bitch, minor character death, minor innuendos, crying children, Tae gets into multiple fights

a/n: Part 2 is finally done! I wanted everything for part 2 to be perfect before I posted it! We only have one more part to go and then this series will be complete!! I really hope you enjoy!

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Masterlist

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When you left the previous night, you didn’t want to think about what could have happened between Taehyung’s projects. For the past 72 hours, you’ve seen at least 49 different ways last night could have gone, and each one was worse than the last. You refused to acknowledge any tugs you felt all night and right now the only thing you want to do is make sure nothing was damaged beyond repair.

Hoseok sits on the chair behind the security desk, eating a breakfast sandwich despite not actually needing sustenance the way the humans do. He insists it’s only to keep up his human appearance, but you both know it’s because he’s become obsessed with the taste and the sensation. You try not to roll your eyes when you think about how many he’d shoved into the fridge at his - and Yoongi’s - apartment. 

“Don’t you think we would have heard about something by now?” He asks, “Besides, can’t you just look at your hands?”

You sigh, “I’d rather look at the events and see which path they chose. I’ll worry about everything else later.”

Of course you could just look at your hands, but being able to see the vision clearly can sometimes be far too overwhelming even for you. Just the tugs on your fingers are enough to make you itch constantly. You’ve even gone as far as to buy ‘fidget toys’ - as the humans call them - to distract humans from the constant twitching you’ve become so used to. Though you have to admit that the toys themselves give you a brief moment of relief.

With his mouth full, Hoseok side-eyes you, “Sometimes it worries me just how much you know.”

“Show me the tape.”

Hoseok shrugs and turns to the monitors in front of him. He logs into the system and clicks around, finding the footage from the night before and following every camera Eunha goes through. He rewinds the tape back to a bit after everyone left for the night. It shows Eunha making her rounds and walking to the king’s exhibit. Both of the deities watch as she shines her light through the gate and walks away. As they speed through the footage, it looks like no interaction happened the previous night at all.

Hoseok pauses the footage after Eunha returns to the security room and turns to you, who's just as confused as he is, “That looks like nothing.”

“It isn’t nothing.” You can feel it. You’ve practically already seen it. There is no way the two didn’t meet last night, “Show me his cameras.” 

Hoseok does as he’s asked. He finds the set of 4 cameras hidden in the exhibit room and clicks on the widest angle. This camera shows Eunha entering the exhibit and taking a look around, but nothing more. It isn’t until she passes the necklace case that you see the glittering jewels shine within the glass. “There.”

“The spell...” Hoseok’s peaceful demeanor diminishes and an unusual scowl covers his features, “Did he even try to break it?”

You nod, “Even if he didn’t, I did.” You weren’t stupid enough to believe that Taehyung would actually try to get rid of his creation. You’ve been far beyond giving him the benefit of the doubt for quite some time now. However, actually destroying the necklace he designed proved to be much harder than a simple conversation with the Moon God himself. 

“We’ll just have to stay on top of them.” You stand up from the chair you’d brought over to the desk and stand, raising your arms up high to stretch before you leave.

Hoseok picks up his office phone and hovers his finger over the keypad, “Should I page Taehyung?”

You wave the security guard off, “No. I’ll find him later. Just let me worry about this.” 

You leave Hoseok to get back to work and leave for your own office. Not only do you have your regular responsibilities as a deity to attend to, but your human ones as well. Hours spent at your desk not only speaking to employees as needed, but also looking at your strings and following tugs against them. Most tugs come from your own friends and their daily interactions with museum patrons. You try to ignore them, but it’s hard to just let them interact with mortals when you know how bad the outcomes could be.

Taehyung is your prime example of just how true that can be.

You find the blonde in the children’s exhibit he took over curating, helping the youngest of museum patrons to interact with the activities around them. He’s tucked himself between two young children in front of a LEGO station. He tries to help them recreate the dragon behind the glass, but the children are much more creative then the blueprint laid in front of them. 

You approach the group from behind as the young boy on Taehyung’s left turns to him with a smile, “Do you like my dog, Mr. Kim?” He shows him a combination of green and blue blocks, resembling a table more so than a dog but Taehyung still gasps dramatically.

“It’s amazing!” He clasps his hands together in celebration, but you’re still stuck on the child’s inability to realize that the object they’ve created is not a dog. 

“That’s a table.” 

You watch as Taehyung and the boy turn to you, one confused and the other seeming slightly irritated. With big brown eyes, the young boy pouts, “No, it’s a dog!”

“It doesn’t have a head.” 

“Yes it does.” Taehyung interjects, “The head is right here. Isn’t that right, Beomgyu?” He points to the singular blue block that holds the top pieces together, not even close to resembling what he and the boy claim it to be. Even when the boy nods, you’re still left unconvinced. 

You bend down to be on their level with furrowed brows, “It doesn’t even have a tail.”

“It doesn’t need a tail!”

“Yes it does.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“It’s not a dog if it doesn’t have a tail.”

“You’re wrong!” At this point, little bubbles of tears are welling in the young boy's eyes. His feelings are hurt, but you’re none the wiser to his discomfort. You’re taken by complete surprise when he stands up and throws his creation back onto the table, “Mom!”

“No, Beomgyu, it’s-” Taehyung tries to reassure him that his creation is perfect just the way it is, but he stops trying as the little boy runs to the next room in disheartened tears, “-okay…”

You’re left ignorant to the scene you created, instead grabbing the pieces the young human boy threw down and putting them back with the pile at the center of the table. You settle onto your knees in front of the work bench to help clear it off for the next children, “Having a good day?” You ask the blonde beside you.

His shoulders fall, utterly defeated, “I was.” He sounds hostile, and you’re left oblivious as to why. To you, the small child is nothing. But to Taehyung, Beomgyu is a sweet, creative little boy with so much potential. And you...you just potentially crushed his dreams. The amount of anger Taehyung is starting to harbor for you is beginning to overshadow his fear, “What can I do for you today, Madame Director?”

There’s malice in his tone, but you don’t register it, “I want to know about last night. Hoseok and Yoongi said you had her touch the necklace.”

“I did.”

“And did you stay to watch?” 

As much as Taehyung wanted to stay and watch the long awaited meeting unfold in front of his own eyes, he couldn’t risk messing up again. The last time he interfered, he only made everything worse. When an opportunity came for him to intervene, he was too late. He didn’t understand, and that lack of understanding is what brought him - and everyone else - where they are now. He’d never admit it out loud, and especially not in front of you.

The lack of response from the god beside you is the only answer you need, “So you don’t know either.”

“I wanted them to meet on their own,” He says, not lying but not telling the whole truth, “I was just going to see her in a bit and check in about last night. Did you know she’s been working constantly without a day off since Chanyeol left?”

“Hoseok might have mentioned that. But considering this whole situation is your mess-” Taehyung rolls his eyes,“-checking in sounds like a great idea! I want you to talk to her and update me.” The blonde is quick to turn his head, fearing he’s heard you wrong, but you only stare back at him expectantly. “Agreed?”

“Yeah! I can do that.” To say the god is surprised would be an understatement. From day one of him orchestrating this whole charade, you haven’t wanted any part of it. You haven’t wanted to put up with him. You specifically told him that this was between himself, Hoseok, and Yoongi and that you wanted no part of it. Your sudden involvement has Taehyung beaming with curiosity, “Any reason for the new interest?”

You frown and throw the conjoined lego pieces in his direction, hitting his shoulder and falling behind him. He flinches back, his hands pulling close to his chest before reaching up and over his left shoulder to try and catch the miniature building blocks. You try to hide a smirk, “Don’t read into this, Taehyung. This is my job.”

Taehyung retrieves the pieces you threw at him, “Mhm, sure! Sure…”

“I’m serious, Taehyung. I know a lot more than you do.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to remind me...” Taehyung mumbles.

They way he says it is just as condescending as he usually is when you bring up your job. It seems no matter how many times you try to explain to him what your job entails, it goes in one ear and right out of the other. He never actually listens to you, he just continues to think whatever he’d like.

You sigh, “You know, I don’t act like this to be mean.”

“Then why act like this at all?” He asks.

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Of course I would!”

You scoff, “Considering you don’t understand it yet, I sincerely doubt you would even comprehend what I’m talking about if I were to tell you.”

And there you go again, telling Taehyung how unintelligent he is just so you can be right. It’s never an off switch with you. Always a vague explanation and a promise that he’ll understand, but he never does. “Oh yeah, it must be so hard looking at your fingers all day.”

And just like that, the both of you have gone back to square one.

You set down what you were picking up and stand. Without so much as a frown you say, “Do what I asked and I won’t make Hoseok follow you around.” And walk away from the activity table, leaving Taehyung just as displeased with your attitude as you are with his.

To Taehyung, you have no right to be angry with him - you have a few rights to be angry with him. Sure, he’s made some mistakes here and there, but there’s no reason to continue to hold it against him! He’s learning. Everyone learns. It’s completely unfair that he should have to face relentless reminders of such a simple fact.

Nevertheless, he does as you’ve asked. He had intended to watch for Eunha to arrive anyway. He wanted to know what had happened the night before just as everyone else did, but he knew he had to wait and be subtle.

When she finally arrives, she looks a bit out of it. She makes a detour around Seokjin when she would normally greet him. Her hair isn’t as neat as she usually keeps it and the bags haphazardly thrown onto her shoulder show she’s in a bit of distress. Her walking is much faster than her normal pace, and Taehyung hopes that’s not a bad sign.

He decides to wait for her upstairs in the king’s exhibit, taking a seat on his favorite bench in the museum. It’s always a nice place to sit and have a rest throughout the day, it let’s him think back to old times when his plan was much simpler. A time where his friend didn’t spend all hours of the day inside of a dusty box waiting for his soulmate to return to him. 

It’s moments like this that Taehyung can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he’d left Namjoon alone. If he had just ignored the King’s prayer for help, would he have still fallen ill? Were they destined to meet the same way even if he hadn’t interfered? Would Namjoon and Eunha have been able to meet in this life as well if it hadn’t been for his insistence to give the King a companion? Even worse, what if you’re right?

You told him that if he meddles too much that their strings could knot and burn. If that happens, then everything he’s worked for goes down the drain. Eunha and Namjoon will never get their happy ending and it will all be his fault. If only Yoongi would just make everything easier.

“Damn it!” Taehyung curses, more to himself than anything. He’s working himself up and that won’t do him any good. In moments like this, he takes a page from Namjoon’s book and does something to calm himself. He pulls a small sketch pad out of his bag and throws a leg over his knee, focusing all of his worries and anxieties onto the piece of paper in front of him. Namjoon always wrote in his journals when he was worried about something, but Taehyung has never been great with words. Instead, he draws doodles of patrons and co-workers, even sketches of flowers to ease his ramped mind.

Taehyung hears the clicks of her shoes before he sees her, “Having fun there?”

He wants to lift his head and tell her he’s really worried beyond belief, that he’s the reason she looks so tired. But revealing himself now would ruin everything, so for now he remains a friend in the background.

---

His talk with Eunha went about as well as he expected. She was definitely lying so she wouldn’t worry him - or sound absolutely insane to any normal human. But he could tell just how freaked out she was, and if she wasn’t accepting Namjoon now, then there’s a good chance his plan just took a turn for the worst. He’ll just keep that bit to himself, though. What you don’t know, won’t hurt him.

Hopefully.

He saves himself the hassle of having to unlock and re-lock your door in favor of just appearing inside; however, he didn’t expect to see you sitting at your desk eating a bag of chips. Your one leg is tucked under you while your foot rests on the cushion of your chair. You’re staring at your computer with great interest, so you must be reading something.

You cast a quick glance at your sudden intruder and sigh, but continue your reading, “I did leave the door unlocked.”

Taehyung checks to see if you’re lying, and he’s completely shocked to find you telling the truth, “Why didn’t you lock it? She could come in here!”

“This isn’t an area patrons can enter. Besides, she won’t come here.” You place both legs on the ground and lean over your work to pat your desk, “Have a seat.”

Taehyung is more than hesitant to join you, but he does take a seat. He studies the contents of your desk and finds not one, but two empty chip bags, “Shrimp chips?”

You shrug, “Hoseok. He’s been going overboard with the human food and leaving me gifts every morning. Of all the things he’s left, this one is the most satisfying.”

Taehyung cracks an amused smile, “You’d think Yoongi would want comfort food more than Hoseok.”

“Comfort food?” You ask. You haven’t heard that term before.

“Yeah. That’s what humans would consider chips.” Taehyung explains, “They call them snacks too! They’re things you can enjoy when you get hungry or you just really want to eat something.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Far from it actually.” You give Taehyung a quizzical look and he shrugs, “I don’t understand it yet either. Humans are very confusing.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So what are you doing here? I figured you’d be as far away from the museum as possible.” Taehyung asks, eyeing the high pile of papers that decorate the top of your desk.

You shrug, “I’d rather take care of all the human work I’m supposed to do so I can do my real job when it comes up.”

The blonde leans back in his chair, “And this has nothing to do with Eunha and Namjoon?”

“Oh, it has everything to do with them.” You assure him. You take a moment to sit back and look at what you’ve done so far and let out a heavy sigh, “I can’t sit still knowing that they’re both here alive and-...Well-...together.”

Your eyes stray to your hands and Taehyung takes notice of the blank look that takes over, “What are you so afraid of?”

You close your eyes, shake your head, and smile, “Fear has nothing to do with it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” 

With that you get back to work, hoping to finish your human duties before the morning so you can spend your day doing your real job. Taehyung remains in front of you, silently watching you work away after brushing him off so easily once again. He doesn’t take any offense to it anymore - though it does annoy him to no end - at this point it’s like your own way of communicating. 

However, Taehyung is focused on one thing and one thing only after a long day of stress and hard work.

“Could I have a chip?”

---

It’s been about a week and a half since Taehyung managed to bring Namjoon and Eunha together and despite how optimistic it had seemed, he’s now beginning to realize just how flawed this plan really is.

“She’s not even willing to give him a chance!” The blonde complains, picking at the chicken on his plate instead of eating it.

Jimin - who sits across from him eating his own food - shrugs, “He did scare the living shit out of her.” 

“I can confirm that her soul left her body for a solid 7 seconds when they first met.” Hoseok pipes up, his mouth still full with food. 

“Why don’t you just go back to fanboying?” Jeongguk asks, taking a sip of his soda, “Wasn’t that working?” 

“Not anymore.” Taehyung sighs. He’d been talking non-stop about the dead king since he first landed his job. He’s done nothing but keep up appearances since then in hopes of intriguing Eunha into liking Namjoon just as much as he does, but hopes seem to be quickly going down the drain, “What if (Y/n) is right and this is all just going to bite me in the ass again?”

Hoseok laughs, “I could have told you that.”

The three lower tier gods turn to Death, but only Jimin is bold enough to question him while he gorges himself on human pleasantries, “Why are you here again?”

Hoseok’s ears surprisingly turn red in embarrassment and he swallows the food in his mouth, “You guys said you were getting food here…Ms. Oh gives me extra kimchi when I come here.”

Taehyung can’t help but chuckle, “You really do think with your stomach.”

Hoseok’s brows furrow, “Who told you that?”

“(Y/n).”

Jimin stops eating, “You two have been hanging out?”

The blonde shrugs, “She just wants updates on Namjoon and Eunha and the choices they make. She obviously can’t be bothered to do it herself. It’s not like it isn’t her job.”

Jimin scoffs and Hoseok chews away quietly at his food, but Jeongguk doesn’t seem too convinced with Taehyung’s assumption, “Maybe she’s just trying to make conversation the only way she knows how.” 

“She couldn’t ask about my day instead?”

“You give (Y/n) way too much credit.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, “A guy in my philosophy class acts the same way! He’s really bad at making conversation, so he starts talking about class related stuff to drive himself.”

Taehyung thinks back to their most recent meeting where Fate had asked him about Namjoon and if he’d been causing problems. He remembers how the conversation started, but how it digressed into complaining about Yoongi and Jeongguk he’d never know.

“Still-” Taehyung refuses to falter, “-I do a lot with my day.”

“Taehyung. I hate to break this to you, but knowing what happens to Namjoon and Eunha is what you do with your day.” Jimin points out. Taehyung flings a piece of his chicken in the blonde’s direction, and he blocks with the back of his hand before it can hit and ruin his work shirt. He sends Taehyung a glare and cleans his hand with a napkin, “But I do agree, she could try a bit harder if she’s trying to have a real conversation.”

“You guys really don’t get her, do you?” Hoseok asks.

“Of course we do! She’s Fate.” Jimin says, “She holds the strings of the future in her palms and it’s up to her to keep the universe balanced and blah blah blah.”

Hoseok sighs at Jimin’s mockery, “There’s a lot of responsibility that comes with holding the universe in your hands.” 

“Yeah, that’s why Hui sits with the others while the rest of us do work.” Jimin scoffs.

Hoseok bites the inside of his cheek, “He has more responsibilities than you. You messed that up on your own.”

Jimin shrugs and takes a sip of his water, “Not everyone wishes to be walked all over.”

Hoseok almost looks offended, “You think we walk over you?”

“What else should I call it? Aggressive advice?” Jimin leans forward like he’s challenging Hoseok. The air surrounding the table goes cold as Hoseok slowly sets his chopsticks on the table with a firm grip. It’s obvious he’s trying to hide his anger. 

“Listen-” 

“Hoseok~!” The god’s anger disappears completely at the mention of his name. From behind him, sweet Ms. Oh comes right up to him with a small package of extra kimchi. She places a hand on his shoulder and presents the to-go container to him, “I put in a little extra kimchi in there for you.”

Hoseok accepts her offer graciously with both hands, “Thank you, ma’am. I promise to eat it all!” Ms. Oh pinches his cheek and turns to return to her kitchen. Hoseok waits until she’s completely out of ear shot before he lets his frustrated frown return, “Just think about it this way: Maybe it’s not just humans she doesn’t understand.” 

Taehyung can’t help but look down to his plate, ‘Had he been too quick to judge Fate because of their own history together?’

Hoseok piles his finished dishes on top of each other and stands from the table, “I’ll see you after your lunch.”

Jimin glares after Hoseok until he leaves, “Yeah, it’s pretty obvious that she doesn’t understand much,” He scoffs. He looks at his own plate and wills it all to go away, leaving only the mess so he doesn’t hurt Ms. Oh’s feelings. Leaning back in his chair he sighs, “Maybe I can try talking to Eunha again. What do you think?”

Earth looks to the Moon, but he’s somewhere else in his own space in the universe. He can’t help but rethink his most recent interruptions with Fate again and wonder if her stubbornness - as well as his own - is what’s kept them from seeing eye to eye. If he wants to help Namjoon and Eunha then he’ll have to get Fate’s approval. But how?

 *

*

*

Taehyung looks at the guard schedule you handed him, studying the 4 blank days beside Eunha’s name. He looks up to you - still awkwardly typing away on your computer, “Days off?” 

You nod, “Yes, Hoseok thinks it’ll be good for her.”

“And do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

You stop typing, your fingers curling in as you think about what to say, “I think it’ll help her figure things out for herself.” If you were a human and had everything pushed onto you the same way, you’d probably feel as overwhelmed as she looks. Even a few weeks into this whole charade and she still seems too in over her head, “Everything is still very new for her, and the stress might eat her away if she doesn’t get some kind of break.”

Taehyung laughs in disbelief, “When did you become efficient with humans?”

You choose to ignore the blonde and return to your typing, “Efficient? Wow, that’s a big word. I’m impressed.”

“Mocking me doesn’t answer my question.” Taehyung points out, sitting back in his chair and resting one leg over the other.

“Doesn’t it?” You ask, raising a brow in his direction. You shrug your shoulders and look back at your screen, “I’ll have you know that I’ve always been efficient with humans.”

“Really?” He scoffs, “Is that why you told that one lady her love line was doomed if she didn’t stop sleeping around?”

“I had to warn her.”

“She ran out of the bathroom crying.”

“The truth hurts.”

“She hit Seokjin with her purse.”

“And I bought Seokjin a coffee and a donut in return.” 

“You know that’s not how you’re supposed to deal with that situation, right?”

You smile, unaffected by your actions, “I’ll consider it a learning experience then.”

“Do you even know what you should do in that situation?” He asks.

That has you pausing. Of course, in an ideal situation you wouldn’t be involved at all. But you’re not acting as a god anymore, you’re parading around as a human. And while you’re confident you know more than Taehyung about humans and their society, you can’t help but wonder if you’re more out of touch than you thought. 

Taehyung sits up and moves so he can rest his arms against your desk with his chin resting on his forearms, “Are you sure you really know humans?”

The last time you had been on Earth to associate yourself with the humans was almost 7 years ago, and it was only to warn Taehyung about his own future. You’d only bumped into a few humans on the street, and you didn’t even have to speak to anyone at all. Your knowledge of humans in the last 100 years - at least - has been almost entirely reduced to nothing. 

You know for a fact that Taehyung was taught about humans by Jimin himself after the blonde’s first run on the troublemakers planet. It leaves you wondering just what Taehyung has learned and if he’s capable of making better decisions than before.

You turn to the curator and mirror his position, leaning on your desk, “What would you have done?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t have had to apologize to Seokjin or the lady because I wouldn’t have said anything.”

You laugh, “Well, yeah. Your lady days are behind you.”

“Once again, mocking me won’t make me wrong.” Taehyung says, tapping you on the nose with a smug grin.

You wrinkle your nose but make no effort to move and show no sign of disgust, “Are you sure?”

Taehyung finds himself staring at you longer than he normally does. You're obviously unimpressed with him, but you still seem happy. It’s like when he talks about Namjoon to Eunha and she pretends she’s not annoyed out of her mind. He thinks back to the other day with Hoseok at Ms. Oh’s and he can’t help but wonder if he could change your mind .

“Why don’t we make a deal?” He asks.

You barely gave him a chance to finish his sentence, “No.” You sit up and return to your working position.

“Come on-”

You hold up a finger to silence him, “We’re in the process of one of your deals, and I don’t like your track record.”

“Just humor me.” He pleads.

You close your eyes in annoyance, “Speak.”

“Eunha gets 4 days off. We don’t have to keep an eye on her or Namjoon. Let’s go out and really experience the human world together.” He pushes your stacks of paperwork aside, “Let me show you what humans are really like.” 

“And…?” You ask, knowing he has more up his sleeve than just showing you the humans of today.

“If I prove to you that humans are more than just random strings that come and go, then you have to really help me with Eunha and Namjoon. If they’re not, then I’ll convince them to destroy the necklace on their own.” Taehyung knows he’s risking everything just to prove a point, but he’s confident that if he plays his cards right then he can get you to at least see things from his point of view, “They’re more than you give them credit for, and I think you would change your mind if you saw them in a different light than that of a god.”

“If you’re so confident you can change my mind that you’d give up after 1,000 years, then who am I to deny?” Your response has Taehyung jumping from his seat in glee, almost stumbling over the chair he was sitting in from moving too fast. You hold back a chuckle as he tries to put everything back where it belongs, “I’ll approve your time off for tomorrow.”

“You won’t regret it.” He assures you.

“I’m sure I won’t.” Despite his annoying persistence and his inability to comprehend the simplest of explanations, you can’t deny that he does try his best with everything.

Taehyung is just happy that you actually agreed. He was sure that you’d turn him down and he’d go home to figure out another way to sneak around you, but this will be perfect! All he has to do is win you over. Which may be a bit daunting now, but he’s sure he’ll get over it. 

He’s about to leave when you call out to him, “Taehyung-!” 

He turns and you smile, “Make sure it’s something really special if you’re going to get me to agree.”

“Trust me, it will be.”

—

“You’re an idiot.”

Not the words Taehyung expected to hear after he told Jimin and Jeongguk about his new plan. He figured they’d have some distaste for his plan, but this was a bit much.

“Come on, Jimin. Do you really have that little faith in me?” Taehyung asks.

“Yes.” The blonde walks away from the living room to go to the kitchen.

“He’s made it pretty obvious.”

Taehyung turns to the youngest deity with a frown and points a finger at him, “You have no room to talk.” 

The two follow Jimin to the kitchen where the eldest of the three makes himself a glass of water at the fridge over his usual glass of champagne. When he turns and sees Taehyung again, he heaves a heavy sigh and sets the glass on the island in between them, “If you think you’re going to convince Fate that humans are something special then you have another thing coming to you, Taehyung! (Y/n) has never valued humans and she never will.”

“Like you have? She took them from you for a reason, didn’t she?” Jimin narrows his eyes at Taehyung and the Moon continues on, “Maybe she just forgot how that feels.”

“Or she won’t and this will ruin everything we’ve worked for. Did you think about that?” He asks.

“Of course I did! But I know that won’t happen.” Taehyung leans on the counter and makes himself eye-level with his friend, “You have to trust me.”

“You better not blow this.” Jimin picks up his glass and walks out.

“I won’t!” Taehyung calls after him, but the Earth has already left his orbit.

*

*

*

If someone were to look up the definition of worry and anxiety in a dictionary, they’d find a picture of Taehyung. Asking Fate to make a deal with him had seemed like a great idea when he first thought of it, but now as the blonde stands at the bus stop waiting for her to arrive he’s starting to have second thoughts. As much as he hates to admit it, your track record for being correct is far more superior to his. The chances of him changing your mind are about as high as Yoongi smiling at him without being forced to.

“Taehyung?” You ask, pulling the god out of his thoughts. You’re sitting right next to him and he didn’t even notice you arrived. For once, you look worried, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, the bus should be here soon.” Taehyug assures you with the best false confidence he can muster. If today is going to go well, then he needs to leave every worry on this bus bench and focus all of his energy on you and what would make you more likely to finally see from his point of view.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “Not yet. Our outing for today will remain a surprise until we get there. Unless you’ve already looked ahead?”

He’s teasing you and you know it, “I’ve kept my hands to myself, thank you.” You assure him with a light nudge to his side, trying to ignore the amused smile that paints his features.

He nudges you back, “Good. Keep it that way.”

The bus arrives a few moments later, it’s door stopping in front of Taehyung. The both of you get up and approach the doors, waiting off to the side for previous passengers to exit. You’re about to walk around Taehyung when the last one exits, but his arm flies in front of your chest and stops you in your tracks. You have half a mind to snap at the blonde, but your anger disappears when you see why he stopped you.

“Here let me help you.” Taehyung steps forward to grab the front end of a child’s stroller, gently lifting it and helping the mother carefully steps down herself with a little girl right behind her. Taehyung sets the stroller’s wheels on the ground and turns to the little girl with a bow on the top of her head and her hair poking out like a sprout and offers her a gentle hand with a wide smile, “Here you go, baby. Watch your step.”

The young girl takes his hand and jumps off the last step, just barely reaching the sidewalk with a little help from Taehyung. Her mother cheers for her and reaches out a hand for her to come back by her side. With a quick bow she thanks Taehyung and they continue on their way. You can’t help but watch the little girl bounce after her mother, her little feet almost dancing as she toddles on. No doubt Taehyung had just made that mother’s day easier and her child’s day happier. 

“Ladies first.” Taehyung motions for you to board in front of him and you climb the steps, scanning your bus pass, and walking to the first available seats close to the back. You slide into the window seat and pull your bag into your lap, Taehyung settling into the seat beside you

The bus starts moving and the two of you are locked into a peaceful silence. Well, as peaceful as it can be for Taehyung. He told himself to leave his worries behind, but he’s still sitting next to you with every worry resting on his shoulders. 

You’re more than happy not worrying about the humans around you or the mischievous god to your left. It’s a nice change of pace from the museum, especially with the view of the city right outside of your window. Leisure trips aren’t something you’re often used to. Unless someone needs you or you’re required to intervene, you really don’t go anywhere. It’s almost pleasant, but it’s hard to forget the company you keep when his legs won’t stay still.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“Huh?”

“Are. You. O-K?” You repeat slowly, “Your leg is shaking like crazy.”

“I’m just excited for our destination, that's all.” He assures you.

You nod, deciding to let it go for now. You’d find out soon enough.

The bus comes to a stop in front of a large, colorful building no Taehyung shoots up, “This is our stop!” He races from his seat down the aisle and you stand up and follow after him. You exit a few people after him and find the blonde staring at the large building in front of you. Dozens of children run freely, their parents rushing after them as teens and young couples parade around hand in hand. 

You come to a stop beside Taehyung and give his arm a playful nudge, “Don’t tell me you were excited just to look at a building?”

He shakes his head, “I think you’re really going to enjoy yourself today.”

Without even thinking about it, Taehyung takes your hand and drags you behind him. All the way to the front doors of the building where a small line of people wait. He doesn’t miss a second and pulls out his phone, moving his head close to yours and smiling at his screen. His phone goes dark for a split second before he pulls it back to his chest. He moves on like what he did was nothing, but you’re left confused.

“What was that?” You ask.

Taehyung stops scrolling through his phone, long enough to raise an eyebrow at you. “You aren’t serious.” When you nod his eyes go even wider, “You work at a museum and you don’t know what a picture is?!”

“It’s a painting.”

“That’s a portrait.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Yes. There is, and I’m going to take millions and millions of pictures to prove it!” To make his point, he pulls the hand holding yours away to throw it over your shoulder. He taps relentlessly at his screen, occasionally switching up the angle. You try to throw a hand in front of your face to block his new attack, but he’s quick to adjust his camera to continue his harmless assault. “Why are you hiding? I’m trying to teach you what a real picture is.”

“Taehyung!” You try to push away, but the blonde has a tight grip on you.

“Take pictures with me!” He whines, trying to inch his face even closer to yours.

You can hear the humans snickering around you, but your companion doesn’t seem to care at all. He has no problem keeping you caged against him while he “takes real pictures” in a weak attempt to persuade you. He doesn’t give up in the line or on the escalator going down until you get closer to the front and he has to let you go.

“Have you purchased your tickets already?” The kind woman asks as you attempt to fix your hair from Taehyung’s attack.

Taehyung slaps his thighs with both hands before shoving them inside his far pocket and pulling out folded papers. He hands them to her, “Here you are.”

She unfolds them and takes a quick look over the words on each page, pulling a scanner similar to the ones at the museum to check them both in before handing them back with a smile, “Enjoy your time today.”

“Thank you. We will!”

The both of you move on, walking to the second set of doors beyond the ticket line and walking through to see just how big the building really is. The outside doesn’t do justice to the humans who designed something so beautiful. The entrance gives a great view of the entire park, showing off several buildings and attractions, as well the flora and special decorations placed to appease the humans that visit. Everything is so well cared for, and the glass roof just makes everything look so bright and inviting.

“Do you see anything you’d like to do first?” Taehyung asks.

You’ve heard plenty about amusement parks. Many human’s string’s will entangle themselves in gears and doors, tied to trivial things like rides and children’s games. Their opinions all seem to differ with most of them split in half on how they truly feel about the park.

You shrug, “Why don’t you choose?”

You should not have let Taehyung choose. Especially not what the humans call a rollercoaster. What insane, psychopath designed a high speed death trap that turns you on your side and flips you upside down in a metal cage?! Only one deity is sadistic enough to test the limits of Life and Death like this, and you’re positive Yoongi had something to do with the creation of such a monstrosity. At one point, you were sure Taehyung was going to lose his hands!

Not every ride was as terrible. The pirate ship had seemed gentle enough at first, but then it kept going higher and higher and you started to feel yourself slipping out of your seat. You even wrapped your arm around Taehyungs to ensure you didn’t go flying over the metal bar they’d placed against your lap.

Every ride the two of you climbed onto felt like one death trap after another. There was no way Yoongi himself didn’t come down and design each and every inhumane attraction himself just to create some form of chaos. Anyone who actually enjoyed a near death experience needs to sign themselves up for human therapy.

After your last brush with Death, you sat yourself down on a bench to catch your breath and maybe your sanity as well. 

“Are you okay?” Taehyung asks.

“What?”

“Are. You. O-K?” He teases, “You’re looking a little pale for someone that isn’t capable of getting sick.”

“Well, my complexion is all thanks to you and your death traps!” You remind him. You feel like your stomach is in your throat and you don’t even have a stomach! “How could humans actually enjoy these things?”

The blonde shrugs, “You’re just not a thrill chaser. Humans like a rush.”

You look at him astonished and bewildered, “Do they forget they’re mortal?! They could die!”

“That’s the fun of it!”

You groan and lean into the back of your bench, “Oh, you really have lost it.” 

Taehyung can’t help but laugh at your misery. This is the first time he’s seen you so out of your element, and it’s almost refreshing. But he reminds himself that you’re supposed to be having fun. “C’mon, we went on some nice rides.”

“Oh, yes! The children’s rides! Those were much safer.” Taehyung laughs again and you give him a quick glare to shut him up, “Why can’t the humans just enjoy simple things?”

“Because YOLO.”

“Bless you.”

“No, it’s a saying. It means ‘you only live once’,” Taehyung explains, “There are quite a few humans that live by that.”

“They would risk the one life they have for a phrase?”

“They would risk it for a chance to have fun and feel alive.” He says, rephrasing the words in a way you could understand, “Most humans have to work to live. There are only a few that don’t need to worry about food or shelter. So, those that can make a point to have as much fun before they can’t anymore.”

“I guess that’s admirable...” You’d never really taken the time to consider why humans do what they do. It all seems pointless when you’re eternal. The concept is nice to think about when you give some thought to it. It almost makes what Taehyung has been trying to do a decent idea.

You stand before you can continue thinking as a human would, “Alright, what death traps are left?”

Taehyung’s smile grows, “I’m glad you asked.”

---

“Where’s the bar?”

“It’s behind you.”

When Taehyung dragged you to the large, circular ride with couches around it’s side, you weren’t sure what to expect. But if there’s one thing you’ve learned about human rides, it’s that they need bars in front of you.

“Excuse me? What about a lap bar?” 

“This ride doesn’t have one.”

“Not even a belt?”

“Nope.”

“What do I do if I can’t hold on?”

“Just hold on tight.” As soon as he says this, the ride starts. It just spins around at first, and that isn’t so bad. At least, not until the ride starts to bounce as well. The first one has you falling out of your seat and onto the floor.

Taehyung grabs your hand, having expected this to happen, “I told you to hold on!” He pulls you back into the seat next to him and you grab onto the bar once again. The blonde tries to let go, but you reach for his shirt and hold it like you could actually die if you fell again. He laughs, “You’re not supposed to hold onto me!”

“If I’m going down then so are you!” You yell, gripping the bar behind you and hoping for the ride to be over soon.

Every bump has you edging closer and closer to the moon god and it’s a miracle you aren’t sitting in his lap by the end of the ride. As soon as it stops, you’re finally able to catch your breath. You find yourself praying to Hui, hoping he’ll hear your plea and switch your job with Yoongi’s.

Taehyung, however, is trying not to freak out at your close proximity to him. You’re holding onto his jacket like the kitten he’d visited at the pet store, like falling is only inevitable if you let go of him. Your head is resting under his chin, the hand holding onto your top being the only thing to stop you from hitting him.

“Are you still okay?” He asks.

You pull away slowly, unbothered by how close the two of you had been due to your fear of dying on a human toy, “Fortunately.”

“How about we go on the last ride now?” Taehyung suggests, exchanging the hand he holds you with to take the elbow closest to him.

You don’t bother hiding the frown on your face, “Do we have to?”

“I think you’ll like this one.” 

The blonde helps you off of the ride and lets you cling to his arm all the way to the other side of the park where your last ride awaits. Another circular ride, only this one has cars similar to the rolling death trap he’d locked you into only 4 rides into your experience.

You stop in the middle of the walkway, pulling Taehyung back and causing the humans to move around you, “You want me to go on the spinning death wheel? Two in a row?!”

“It’s not what you think.” You give Taehyung a look and he rolls his eyes, “Come on.”

You let him take you through the line, deciding to lift yourself up for the ride instead of letting the fear you have tear you apart. Even as you’re let on the ride and once again locked in next to Taehyung you’re trying to decide if fleeing to the other side of the planet is worth blowing your cover.

“Are you okay?” The worker settling your bar in place asks.

You offer him a weak nod, “Yeah… I’m fine.”

He hands you a small, blue plastic bag with a ring holding it open and smiles, “Just in case then.”

He goes to start the ride and you’re left confused, “What’s this for?”

“How should I know?”

The ride lurches and you grab on tight to the bar, finding yourself going backward a few feet and stopping.

“Just calm down.” Taehyung coos. He places his hand over yours and rubs his thumb over the back of it, “You worry too much.”

Your eyes are locked on his hand over yours, “Why are you doing that?”

“To comfort you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re freaking out.”

“Oh…”

“I can stop if you want.” Taehyung starts to let go, but the ride moves again and you grab onto his hand yourself.

“No!” You cry. Taehyung can’t help but laugh at how different you are in this moment, and you try your best to brush it off, “Just until we get off. That way if this monstrosity breaks you have no choice but to go to.”

Taehyung smiles knowingly, “Whatever makes you feel better.”

You cling to Taehyung as the ride continues to stop and go, squeezing his hand on the occasional tilt the car makes. It isn’t until the ride - starts to actually spin continuously that you really begin to enjoy the ride itself. You somehow manage to actually like this ride, so much so that you convince the ride attendant to let you go around again. Taehyung has no complaints, especially if you’re going to smile the whole time.

You come to a stop near the top and the blonde turns to you, “So, are you enjoying yourself?” He asks with a teasing smile.

You, however, couldn’t care less if you were wrong or not at this moment. Up in the air looking down at the colorful lights of the other rides, you feel free. You have no responsibilities up here. You exist peacefully and happily without any problems holding you back.

You’re no one.

“I’ll give you this, Moon god, this ride is nice.” You lean back in the car, letting your body rest into Taehyung’s, “I think I can understand this.”

“Not the others?” He asks, teasing more than genuine curiosity.

You shrug, “Humans are strange. If they have natural Death wishes then so be it, but I suppose that the thrill could have some appeal to the right people.”

Taehyung sighs and let’s go of your hand, using his arm to wrap around your shoulders, “I was hoping you'd see things my way.”

You smile and poke his nose the way he’d done to you the other day, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Taehyung. We’re not there yet.”

“Yet~” He says with an air of hope.

“We’ll see how you play your cards.” You say. For now, you intend to enjoy the moment while it’s still here.

---

“So, what are we doing here?” You ask.

Taehyung had told you today would be even better than yesterday before the two of you parted last night - and with how terrible those rides had been it should be pretty easy to make a good impression. Anything would be better than getting on those traps again.

“We’re shopping!” He says excitedly, but his enthusiasm has you confused.

“Why?”

“Because it’s fun?”

“But you don’t need to buy things.” You remind him, “You’re a deity. You can make whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but this feels more human.”

You tilt your head in confusion, “Why would you want to feel human?”

He sighs - he won’t get anywhere when you’re like this, “Why don’t I just show you and then you can ask questions?”

You move to the side and extend your hand, presenting the way for him, “Lead the way.”

He takes your outstretched hand and leads you down the sidewalk, walking in front of you with your connected hands behind his back to lead you through the crowd. You begrudgingly walk behind him, looking at the shop windows as you pass.

“This way!” Taehyung squeezes your hand and pulls you to the left, and you unconsciously squeeze back and follow him. He takes you to the entrance of a store with it’s door wide open, a rack full of children’s clothes keeping the door from closing.

The store itself is filled with nothing but clothes of all types and various accessories scattered across the shop. Young women cling together as they scan the racks and some show off their finds near the back. An older gentleman and a boy who looks to be his son stick to the men’s section to the right of the store, the son shaking his head here and there when his father shows him a new item.

Taehyung immediately takes off for the women’s section without you and you’re not really sure why he’s the excited one. You follow him anyways, arms crossed and so far highly unimpressed with his first pick of the day.

“Trying to relive the old days?” You jest as the blonde sifts through the rack.

“Nope.” He says, choosing to ignore you in favor of looking through the clothes. He keeps going for a few seconds until he finds something he deems worthy enough, “Here it is!”

You half expected him to pull out a dress, but you’re surprised when he pulls out a shirt very similar to his. You double take and realize that it is the same shirt before you’re back to being unimpressed, “What is that?”

“A shirt.”

You’re offended that he would think you’re that incompetant, “I know it’s a shirt! Why would I want it?”

“So we can match!” He shakes the shirt out of excitement and almost drops it when he spots something else, “Look! They even have cute little scrunches!” He picks one up, a little, blue hair piece with yellow crescents all over it. 

“You mean like this?” You ask, placing your palms flat as if they’re against a table and lifting, flipping them over to reveal the same bow, “Something I can make?”

Taehyung feels deflated and he doesn’t say anything right away. You’re a very to-the-point person, and he knows there’s only one way he can really get through to you.

“Could I see that for a second?” Taehyung asks, pointing to the scrunchie in your hand. You look down at it and shrug, handing it over to him without a second thought. He smiles, “Thanks.”

He takes both your scrunchie and the scrunchie he had picked up and chucks from across the store, one landing on a rack and the other in someone’s hair. You’re stunned by the fact that he - of all people - would even consider such a thing, “Taehyung-!”

Taehyung smiles - as if he hadn’t just done anything wrong - and places his empty hand on your shoulder, “New plan. You don’t get to say no to this.” He turns you around by the shoulder and nudges you in the direction of the exit, “Come on.”

You groan as he leads you to the register. Yesterday was fine, but if this is how the rest of today is going to go, then you want it to end now.

Taehyung stops in front of the register and places both the shirt and the scrunchie in front of the attendant, “We’ll take these, please.”

“Oh! Matching shirts! The both of you are going to look so cute! Here-” The girl scans the shirt, grabs a number placard, and hands both of them to you, “You can use our changing room to put it on before you leave.”

“No, that’s o-” You were perfectly happy denying her help, but the kicked puppy look Taehyung is giving you has you back peddling. You muster the most sincere smile you can, “Yes. Thank you. I appreciate the offer.”

You leave Taehyung to pay the human, begrudgingly walking to the fitting rooms she had so kindly offered you. This was not your idea of fun. This is an unnecessary waste of your time. Why anyone would willingly waste their day just to change clothes you don’t think you’ll ever understand.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you can at least appreciate the color. It’s simple enough that you don’t have to worry about standing out. But standing next to Taehyung wearing matching shirts isn’t going to help you any.

“(Y/n)? Are you done?” Taehyung asks, his voice echoing from the other side of the door. You sigh, relenting to a fate of your own and open the door, the shirt you were wearing hanging over your arm. 

“Well?” You ask. The blonde takes a step back from the door, eyeing you up and down. 

“Wow…” His smile is so wide you’d think the action hurts. He looks like a child seeing snow for the first time. He's so excited. His beaming smile - as well as the giggling girls standing in front of the room next to you - has you feeling hot with embarrassment.

You shuffle forward and cross your arms, “Are you happy now?” 

“Very.” He assures you. He knew you were pretty, but you just look so cute when you’re all flustered. It’s nice to see you finally being the one grasping for straws. “Come on, we have a lot to do.”

---

“Food?” You ask, eyeing the numerous stalls that line the street in front of you.

Taehyung nods, “You’ve only had a diet of shrimp chips and strawberry milk. I think it’s time you branch out.”

He leads you to the first stall and points to a tray before he hands the man money in exchange for two sticks with something skewered to them. He hands one to you, and you’re left staring at the item in your hand, “And this is?”

“Food. Eat it.” You’re unsure at first, but you agreed(forcefully agreed) to do whatever Taehyung decided to do for the day. You take a hesitant bite, but one bite is all it took to understand. Taehyung must be able to tell by whatever expression you’re making, “Good, isn’t it?”

You turn to the vendor with your mouth still somewhat full, “Can we get 2 more, please?”

He nods and gets you two more, but Taehyung is quick to take them out of his hands before you can. “Don’t fill up! We have a whole street to go through.” He gestures to the other stalls around you, and for once you’re actually excited to listen to the mischievous god. 

It takes you almost 2 hours just to get back to where you started, and you’re sure you’d be on the ground if you were a human. You have to give Taehyung credit where it’s due, this was a great idea.

“What’s next?” You ask, turning to Taehyung with a bit more hope for the future.

He shrugs, “I guess we could go around for seconds but that might scare the humans.”

You frown, realizing how reckless you’ve been, “I guess you’re right.”

Your change in demeanor throws Taehyung for a loop. This isn’t the first time you’ve dismissed him - or anything - like this. He knows you’re reluctant to tell him, so he thinks of something that’ll get your attention, “Let’s look at what trinkets are being sold.”

“Trinkets?” You ask curiously.

“Like the things Jimin sells in the gift shop.”

“Merchandise?”

He shrugs, “Sure.”

Taehyung leads you back down the street, passing several food stalls before he reaches a jewelry stand that might catch your attention. He takes a quick look over the items on display before he finds one you might actually enjoy. 

He turns around and pulls you closer to the stand, pointing to the simple, silver necklace with a glittering ball charm, “What do you think about this?”

You shrug, “It’s no soulmate necklace, but I guess it’s nice.” Taehyung seems disappointed by your response so you take a closer look. It’s nice in theory, pretty and sparkling. You’d have to guess anyone would enjoy something like this. “The charm is shiny.”

“Well, yeah. It’s supposed to be.” You give him a look, and he chuckles. He gets the vendor’s attention and waves them over, “How much is this?”

“5.”

Taehyung pulls out some money and hands it over, “Here you go.”

You watch him as he puts the money away, “Why’d you buy it?”

“The little things! Now, turn around.” You give in and turn around, waiting for the inevitable push forward to come. But instead, Taehyung’s hands come down over your head and with one end of the necklace in each hand, “There. Now you look even better.”

“Oh? So I was ugly before?” You ask, turning around to face the Moon god with a teasing smile.

Taehyung’s eyes widen, “What? No! That’s not what I meant! You’re beautiful, I just-” He finds it hard to come up with the right words to say, “-I just think this compliments your look.”

“Thank you.” You say, feeling the heat in your cheeks. You’re also at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond. You’ve never been complimented by someone, “Um-...What else did you want to do today?”

Taehyung looks at his watch and sighs, “It’s not time for us to go to our next surprise, so I guess we’ll have to be spontaneous.”

“Spontaneous? What a big word, I’m impressed.” You tease, earning a glare from the blonde. You sigh, “Fine. I’m sorry. Lead the way.”

The two of you were able to find a park. At least this one wasn’t full of death traps like the other had been. This one only had slides, a merry-go-round, swings, and rocking horses. Of course, you were skeptical at first, but Taehyung’s judgement had proved to be good enough. It was simple enough, and far less terrifying than the amusement park. He was right when he said it’d buy you some time, because the two of you spent quite a bit of time enjoying the playsets made for human children until you finally had to leave for your next surprise.

“Next!” The attendant calls out before the family in front of you even moves. Taehyung leads the way around them to the counter, and you follow behind him like you have all day. The human teenager seems less than enthused to be stuck in a box, “For two?”

Taehyung nods, “Yes. We’d like the 7:30 showing of Save Me.”

The boy tells him the price and holds out his hand, accepting the money Taehyung gives him and handing back two tickets in return, “Enjoy the show. Next!”

“I think we just found Yoongi’s twin.” Taehyung says, more to himself than to you, but it has you bursting into laughter. The blonde opens the door for you, amused by your reaction, “Oh, so you do think I’m funny?”

“No!” You stop and wait for him to catch up with you before you relent, “Okay, so maybe you can be funny, but it’s not a common thing for you.”

He scoffs, “Uhuh, sure. Let’s just get some snacks.”

“Comfort food?”

“As much as we can handle.”

And he stays true to that. The two of you put the poor girl behind the snack counter through the ringer with the amount of candies you buy. The tray to hold your hot food is so packed that you have to carry the popcorn and two of the boxes you bought so it all could fit! The humans that you pass on your way to your movie send you judgemental looks, but if you were them, then you probably would too.

Taehyung leads the way to a small, two-seat balcony section over the theater’s entrance, the first row so you don’t have to hold your tray throughout the movie. You both get settled while videos play on the screen - something that the human’s call previews. Taehyung picks up the hot food he had bought first to eat, and you have no complaints eating them while you wait for your movie to start.

When the lights do finally dim and the crowd in the theater begins to hush, you can’t help but turn to Taehyung, “This isn’t going to be scary, is it?”

“Can I be honest with you?” He asks. You nod, “I have no clue.”

---

Thankfully for you, the movie had not been scary. There were some parts that had you jump from the sudden action, but nothing terrible. It was entertaining for something made in the eyes of a human. 

“How clever are humans to paint Fate so well? I’m actually impressed with their interpretation!” You rave as you leave the theater. 

Your smile is radiant and Taehyung can feel himself relax, “So, does that mean you liked the movie?” He asks.

“It was enjoyable,” You agree. You can’t deny that seeing your job portrayed correctly has taken you off guard. Not only that, but it’s amusing to think that humans understand your duties better than the deity in front of you. “Though, I’m confused as to why Fate was a talking house cat.”

He shrugs, “Humans are innovative. Their creativity doesn’t have any bounds.”

“I suppose you could say that.” The both of you walk around the corner of the building to the alley, out of eyesight from the humans, “Same time tomorrow?” You ask.

Taehyung nods, “Yeah. Wear sneakers.”

“Sure thing. I’ll see you later.” You look around before you disappear, leaving Taehyung to stare at the empty space where you stood.

This is only your second day out and it feels like an eternity. But the feeling isn’t bad at all. Neither of you have really pushed at the other like you normally do and it’s weird. It’s like that line of friend and enemy has been crossed and you don’t have to be Fate or Moon God.

You’re just (Y/n) and Taehyung.

*

*

*

Both you and Taehyung walk down the street, fairly close to the museum. He’d taken you for a late morning-early afternoon bike ride through the park a few blocks over. Taehyung himself has always found bikes to be a bit more exciting than cars, enjoying the feeling of flying through the air and seeing nature’s colors without a shield. 

You sigh, “I’ve never realized just how beautiful trees can be.” You’ve never spent much time on Earth - even in the past few weeks that you’ve spent babysitting. But today you both spent a good hour or so just riding around the park - you even biked the path next to the river. Of course, like everything else, it took a moment for you to really get into everything, but today has been the fastest you’ve given in and felt something other than indifference. Not only did you relax, but Taehyung was able to as well. 

“It’s a lot nicer when you can feel the wind through your hair. It makes it feel more magical.” Taehyung agrees. He’d never say it outloud, but this version of you has really captured his attention. He’s barely even thought about worrying over Namjoon and Eunha. There’s just something about the time you’ve spent together that just feels right now.

“I guess it does.”

Taehyung smiles and jogs in front of you, stopping in front of a restaurant, pulling open the door, and offering you a deep bow, “Madame~”

You attempt to bite back a smile and give a small nod back, “Thank you.”

Walking into the cozy little restaurant, you are quickly greeted by the middle aged woman at the counter, “Welcome!”

She’s turned around, so she doesn’t see who’s entered, but Taehyung walks up to the counter and greets her back, “Good afternoon, Yuna!” 

Yuna turns around and coos when she confirms it’s Taehyung, “Taehyung!” He waves back at her and she nods, turning back around and tapping the window cut into the wall, “Mom! One of your regulars is here.”

“Who is it?” You hear her before you see her, the door to the kitchen opening to reveal Ms. Oh with her hair tucked away in a hair net. She scans her restaurant and a smile breaks out on her face when she sees Taehyung standing at her counter, “Oh! Taehyung, my handsome boy! Give me a hug.” Ms. Oh all but runs around her front counter and holds out her arms, Taehyung wrapping his arms over the elder woman. She squeezes him tight and sways him back and forth, pulling away to look over his shoulder, “Where’s Hoseok and Jimin?”

He shrugs, “They’re working today.”

“Oh, I see...” She nods in understanding. Turning her attention to you, her eyes going back and forth between you and Taehyung before something seems to click in her brain and any confusion she had turns into mischief, “And who’s this lovely lady~?”

You smile, “(Y/n), it’s nice to meet you.”

“We’re here on a date.” Taehyung adds, a mischievous smile of his own.

Ms. Oh gasps, “A date?!” Taehyung nods and poor Ms. Oh looks like she’s going to have a fit. She turns Taehyung around and pushes him towards you, the deity grabbing onto your shoulders to steady himself, “Oh, you sit down and stop talking to a little old lady like me. You have this beautiful young woman next to you and you’re going to waste time talking to some prune?!”

Taehyung adheres to her advice and starts to lead you to a table by the window, Ms. Oh following the two of you with a menu. He can’t stop himself from adding on as you sit down, “Her beauty is only second to yours, Ms. Oh~”

“You’re not getting a discount. Sit.” She taps his shoulder with the menu and he complies, sitting down and accepting her menu with both hands.

She ruffles his hair and walks away, leaving you both amused and confused, “Well, she’s charming.”

“Ms. Oh is full of personality. Hoseok only comes here for her.” Taehyung laughs before adding on, “And her kimchi.”

The two order their food and continue to make small talk as they wait. It’s hard to miss Ms. Oh peeking over the order window, and Taehyung makes a show out of waving at her everytime he catches her. It’s no surprise when she personally delivers their food to them.

“Here we are~ I expect this food to be all gone before you leave, do you understand?” She gives both of you an expectant look.

Taehyung nods, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now-” She grabs a chair from a nearby table, pulls it over, and sits down, “-how did the two of you meet?”

“(Y/n) is actually the owner of the museum.” Taehyung explains, taking a bite of his food.

This seems to impress Ms. Oh, “She is?!” She looks to you for confirmation and you do with a hand covering your mouth. She leans back in her seat with a small, seemingly knowing smile, “Wow, so you’re really hitting it off with the boss~”

You choke on your food and Taehyung chuckles, “You could say that.”

Ms. Oh sighs, “I understand. I was hitting it off with the boss’ son back in my day. It got me this restaurant!”

“Mom! Leave that poor couple alone!” Yuna scolds from across the room.

You wave your hands before you speak up, “No, she’s fine!” 

She smiles at you and Taehyung continues the conversation, “So, you took over your husband’s family business?”

“I’m afraid it wasn’t until after he died that I took over, but we did run it together for 45 years.” Ms. Oh looks out the window, most likely reminiscing on old days when her husband was alive and well. You give Taehyung a small kick under the table for bringing up a sensitive topic, and his hiss of pain has Ms. Oh breaking out of her thoughts. She must catch onto what happened, because she puts her hand over yours and laughs, “You sweet thing! Your friend Hoseok reminds me of him when he stops by. He likes my kimchi almost as much as my Changbin did.”

Even with a smile, you can still tell how much pain she went through, “I am so sorry for your loss.”

She sighs, “It was a while ago. That wound has closed over now.”

“Still-...those 45 years must have been wonderful.” Taehyung adds, offering a warm smile.

“I cherish every single moment and memory. I keep my most important one’s close to me.” Ms. Oh looks over to where Yuna hands over a delivery order.

“Is Yuna your only child?” You ask.

She squeezes your hand, “My eldest - Hanbin - died in the car accident with his father. Soobin hasn’t spoken to me since he graduated high school.”

“I’m so sorry…” You’re at a loss for words. Comforting humans - comforting others - is not something you’re used to.

“That’s Fate for you.” She shrugs, unbeknownst to her that she’s holding Fate’s hand. Your eyes widen and you look to Taehyung for help, but he’s keeping his head down. Thankfully, Ms. Oh’s determination and free spirit can’t be stopped by something as trivial as strings, “But Fate has brought me wonderful customers such as yourself.”

You smile, “Thank you.” 

“And besides, I get plenty of handsome young men coming into my store everyday. Fate blessed me there.” She looks at Taehyung with another bright smile, but you’re no longer as happy as you were, “Oh, look-! I’ve dampened the mood.” Ms. Oh stands up and puts her chair back where it belongs, “The two of you eat up and enjoy each other’s company. Make the most of it.”

“Thank you.” Taehyung gives her a small bow before she walks back to her kitchen, leaving you to sit and think about this nice human who’s had everything cut short by her own family’s strings. 

Your strings.

Taehyung sets his head on the table where your eyes stare at nothing, “You okay?”

You meet his eyes and look past him to watch Ms. Oh hug her daughter, “She’s so happy...yet she’s had so much taken from her.”

Taehyung shrugs, “You haven’t been kind to her.”

You nod in agreement, “I wish I could have been.”

---

After lunch with Ms. Oh, you had to make a quick stop by the museum. You didn’t say what you had to get, but Taehyung was happy to wait for you by the front doors. He made good conversation with Jin, even found out a bit more about the man’s many, many failed relationships. Thankfully, you were back within a few minutes, and the two of you still managed to make it to the mall and window shop before you were called away by the council.

Council meetings always come on like cold chills, and it was hard to miss with how violently your body shook. He could tell you were reluctant to go, especially if he wasn’t going with you. But he let you go, assuring you that the outing for tomorrow would need rest anyway.

Now, he stands in front of his apartment door fiddling with the keys to enter his apartment the correct way for the first time in days.

“Hey, I’m ho-Oh!” Taehyung stumbles back, throwing a hand over his eyes. Jimin takes up the couch, sharing his “time” with someone he can’t see, “Sorry…”

Jimin stands up and sighs, fixing his shirt, “It’s okay. Nothing we can’t get back to.” Jeongguk sits up with his brown mop tousled and bruises all over his neck and chin - As surprised as Taehyung is, he really shouldn’t be. Jimin sits back down and crosses his arms, “I see you’re still alive. I wasn’t sure when you didn’t come barging into my room.”

“Yesterday and today went great!” He explains. He begins to take off his shoes, “I took her to an amusement park the first day - and that probably wasn’t my best decision - she really didn’t like a lot of the rides, but she actually relaxed for once! And then today! I took her shopping and we got matching shirts, and we ate tons of food, and I even bought her this cute little necklace. SHe actually liked it. And we-!”

Jimin holds up his hands, “Woah, woah, woah! Hold on! Slow down for a minute.”

“Why?” 

“Because you’re starting to sound like you like her.”

Taehyung shrugs, “So? Isn’t that a good thing?”

“No! If you like her then she can use you!” Jimin hits the coffee table with his hand and stands from the couch, “I should’ve known this would happen.”

Taehyung tilts his head in confusion, “What would happen?”

“You!” Jimin yells, “You’re too soft! Too good. If you keep going like this then she’ll only stab you in the back.”

“I’m just getting to know her!”Taehyung defends, “She’s actually not that bad once you find common ground. She actually does this cute little thing with her nose when she’s scared-”

Jimin crosses the room and grabs Taehyung by the front of his shirt, “-Stop it! Listen to yourself! Friends shouldn’t be cute to you!”

“I think you’re overreacting, Jimin.” Jeongguk pipes up from the couch.

JImin turns around with a glare, “Stay out of this, Kookie!”

Taehyung takes this opportunity to push Jimin’s hands off of him, “I’m just trying to get her on our side.”

“Yeah? Well, don’t forget who dropped everything to help you in the first place.” The blond reminds him.

Taehyung is stunned for a minute, “You could’ve said no.” He’s never shown distaste since the first day he agreed to help him. He’s only used every opportunity to reinvent this new version of him. If Jimin was unhappy, then he had ample opportunity to tell him.

“A good friend would help you!”

“Then why are you so angry?!”

“Because you’re letting Fate blind you!” Jimin pushes against Taehyung’s chest and the Moon god stumbles back into the wall behind him, “You’re letting her get into your head, and before you know it everything we’ve worked for will be for nothing-!”

“-You’re wrong!” Taehyung yells, pushing back against him in retaliation, “You don’t know that!”

Jeongguk tries to grab JImin in hopes of reeling him in, but the Earth god throws his arms out to the side, “She doesn’t care, Taehyung! She doesn’t care about the humans and she doesn’t care about you!”

“Then stay out of it!” Taehyung turns his back to his friend and returns to the door where his shoes are.

“Where are you going?” Jimin asks, still very angry.

Taehyung picks up his shoes and shrugs, “If you won’t help with my plan then I won’t force you.”

“Taehyung wait-!” Jeongguk tried, but the Moon couldn’t care less. He’s been around people that don’t want to be near him long enough to understand when he should just go.

He finds himself by the river again. Not even 12 hours ago he was here with you and he was smiling and happy and free and now it’s tainted. He can feel his own rays of light shining down to give him warmth, but it’s for nothing. He doesn’t feel it. 

At a moment like this, he just wants to feel something.

You’d like to feel less.

Council meetings have never been anyone’s favorite. It’s very rare that every deity is required to attend, and it’s tasked upon the High 6 to meet regularly to maintain balance. You’ve done it since the beginning of the universe and you doubt it wil stop until the very end. The only thing worse than a regular meeting and a full meeting, is a meeting called to discuss the Pillars of Balance.

These meetings are never in your favor.

“Have the 3 of you forgotten how your jobs work?” Seowoo - the Cosmos asks, annoyance dripping from her tongue.

You, Yoongi, and Hoseok stand before the other 3, holding your ground together as they all stare you down. Seowoo is almost livid, while Juhyun looks like he doesn’t care either way. Hui - as always - is almost impossible to read.

“It’s not like we haven’t been trying. You try spending 6 days straight with Taehyung and see if you can tolerate him enough.”

Juhyun sighs, “Why don’t we just strip his powers away? Won’t that fix the problem?” He doesn’t even attempt to hide his boredom.

Seowoo shakes her head, “He needs to be stripped of his powers! We warned him the first time and look where that got us!”

You absolutely disagree, “Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh?” You ask.

She scoffs, “You’re the reason we’re in this position in the first place!”

“Excuse me?”

“We should have taken his powers away years ago, but you just had to baby him!”

You’re offended, “Because it was his first offense and I thought he learned his lesson! You’re the ones that didn’t try to understand him!” You’ve never once shown special treatment to anyone. You definitely aren’t now.

“Oh, I understand him alright. He’s a menace, and you’ve only encouraged his behavior!”

“I tried to do what was best for him!” You argue.

Juhyun pipes up, “What about what’s best for everyone else?”

He makes a valid point, but you know that taking the powers away really won’t be helping anyone, “He’s lonely on his planet. Taking away his ability to visit others won’t fix that.”

“Maybe he’d stop trying to do everyone’s job…” Seowoo mumbles, crossing her arms over her chest and sitting back in her chair.

“This is just a rough patch for him.” You explain. You know Taehyung, and as much as he thinks you’re changing, he’s changing just as much. “He needs to see that this isn’t going to go the way he wants and he’ll stop!” 

“Or he’ll do it all over again!” Seowoo argues, completely exasperated.

Juhyun looks to Hoseok and Yoongi on either side of you for some kind of helpful input, “Are the two of you listening to this?”

Hoseok nods, “We stand behind (Y/n)’s decisions.”

Seowoo groans in annoyance and turns to the only other person who can do anything, “Hui, talk some sense into them. Into her.”

“(Y/n)-” He stands from his chair and leaves his platform, extending his arm to you, “Come with me.”

You ignore the pleased smile on Seowoo’s face and take his arm, allowing him to lead you away from the enclosed room. He takes you to a small balcony just off the room, a curtain being the only door between you and the others. The balcony has a beautiful view of the galaxy, showcasing twinkling stars and distant planets. You try to enjoy it, but your nerves are too on edge.

Hui joins you, resting his arms on the railing, “Have you been alright?” 

This takes you by surprise, “Of course! What kind of question is that?” You ask.

“You’ve been acting differently for quite some time now.” He explains, “I’d say since Taehyung first started causing trouble.”

You shake your head, “I think you’re wrong. I’m the same person I’ve always been.”

He turns his head to look at you, “I don’t believe you are.” 

You sigh, “Look, Seowoo has always been dramatic. I promise you that I am taking this situation seriously.”

“When Jimin severed the humans from their soulmates, you nearly ended his entire career. You didn’t give Taehyung that treatment.” He’s not wrong, but Jimin’s situation was so much different from Taehyung’s.

“Taehyung messed with the fate of 2 individuals, not an entire population...” You remind him.

Hui looks down and back up, sighing, “What are you trying to achieve?”

“Taehyung doesn’t understand. I’m trying to help him come to terms with their future, but it’s just taking a little longer.”  

Hui laughs, “He’s a moon. He doesn’t understand, and it’s very likely he never will. He’s not like you.”

“Taehyung has never had anyone call out to him for help.” You explain, “He’s only insistent on doing this because Namjoon came to him and now he feels responsible!”

“So, that’s what’s wrong with him…” The Universe seems to understand.

“I thought after what happened the first time, he would have understood. That he would have given up on something that was so doomed from the start, but he’s determined.” In a way, you really feel for Taehyung. He’s doing what he thinks is right, but his determination is only causing more pain than good. “I’m just trying to help him.”

“I think you and I both know that helping him is no way to help him.”

“I’m hoping to lessen his pain! We stripped Jimin of his powers and now look at him!” After stripping him of his powers, the Earth god became so much more human-like than anyone could have anticipated. He found other ways to play with humans and make them praise him, and his resentment has yet to fully diminish.

Hui tilts his head in confusion, “We?”

You heave a heavy sigh, “I.”

Hui shrugs, “I thought you said he deserved it? You thought it was best.”

“Well I was wrong!” You admit, slapping your hand against the cool marble railing. Watching Jimin over the years try to assimilate has always made you feel terrible. No matter how justified your actions may have been, watching him has always felt wrong, “Let me make this right.”

He sighs, “You know, Fate has no use for Hope.”

You laugh, “Some omnipotent being I am…”

Hui shrugs, “You can’t help that you’ve fallen in love.”

His words have you whipping your head faster than the speed of light, “What?”

“You can’t help that yo-”

“No. I heard you the first time.” You assure him. You heard him loud and clear and he could not be more wrong, “I’m not in love with Taehyung.”

He smiles knowingly, “I never said it was Taehyung.”

“But you implied it was!” He raises an eyebrow as if to challenge you, and you’re astonished. You can feel the heat rising on your cheeks and you find yourself stumbling over your words, “I am not in- In love with Taehyung! He’s a thorn in my side!”

He chuckles and turns his attention to the view in front of you, “You’re lucky.”

“Excuse me?” 

“Your job brings you close to humans. You get to experience their emotions far more than the rest of us.” He explains, his gaze locked on the inhabited planet.

You’re completely confused, “Is there a point you’re trying to make? Gods have no use for emotions.”

“Is that so?” He asks. He turns his head to you with a mischievous smile, “Or is that just what we decided was best?”

You pout, “We’ve already seen what human emotions can do to us 1 too many times…”

“And we’ve learned.” He agrees, “Why don’t you give it a shot?”

You shake your head, “How is an emotion like love supposed to help me right now?”

“Let me ask you this: Are you doing this to give Taehyung a second chance? Or is this your 4th?” He asks. 

It’s been far too long since you were first created as the Goddess of Fate. In that time, you’ve learned the in’s and out’s of what it takes. Most importantly, you’ve experienced most of your rules first hand. It’s been so long and pushed so far out of your mind, that even you forget about your own shortcomings.

“You’ve made mistakes and you have regrets. You’re not perfect.”

You scoff, thinking of Seowoo, “Perfect is apparently a part of the job...”

Hui sighs and pushes away from the railing, “I’ll tell the other’s that this situation is no longer any of our business and you, Yoongi, and Hoseok will make everything right, just as you always do. But do me a favor and remember what we’ve talked about.”

He walks away, leaving you on the balcony by yourself to think. He’s always such a strange character, and sometimes he’s almost unconventional. He should be a God of Mischief instead of your Universe. But he does leave you with many things to mull over.

Are you projecting your own past regrets onto Taehyung without even realizing it? Are you hoping that by fixing Taehyung, you’ll feel better about all of your past mistakes? Do you really see him as just an acquaintance, or are you actually in love with him? It doesn’t make sense to you. There are many reasons to treat him differently.

You can’t be in love with Taehyung.

You feel a tug on your finger, and it’s very light at first, but it soon gets harder and more urgent. This usually means that someone is doing something they shouldn’t, and if the track records are anything to go off of then the Moon god is the one to blame.

You quickly make the travel from Star 13 to Earth, following your strings to the mischievous god. You’re not surprised to see him flinging rocks into the river, nor are you surprised to see the overturned trash cans and benches along the path to him. Taehyung has always been emotional, and he tends to go overboard when he gets upset. You fix most of his mess and hurry to stop him, hoping to get to him before someone calls the human authorities on him. 

“You know-” Taehyung stops mid-throw, “there are easier ways to contact me.”

He’s surprised - and he really shouldn’t be. He knew if he caused a big enough scene then you’d have no choice but to come and see what he was up to. A part of him knew exactly what he was doing, but his irrational side would never let him admit it.

Taehyung lets his arm fall to his side and he lightly tosses the last rock into the water, “When have I ever used a normal means?”

You shrug, “I suppose I should’ve expected something like this.”

Neither of you are sure what to say after that. Taehyung is fighting an inner battle with himself, unsure if he actually wants your help or regrets trying in the first place. And you’re still reeling from the conversation with hUi and what exactly it is that you’re feeling. But either way, you are there and Taehyung does need help.

“So-” You start, coming up next to him and sitting in the grass, “What’s bothering you?”

“Why do you think something’s bothering me?” “Okay, so, maybe something is bothering me.”

“Wanna talk about it?” “You ask, patting the spot next to you, “I promise I’ll try my best to not-...” You hesitate, “-be so me.”

“You aren’t the problem,” Taehyung sighs, “Well-” He sits down cross-legged next to you, “-you are, but you aren’t.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“I know, just bare with me.”

“Okay.”

Taehyung sighs, “Jimin and I got into a fight over the deal you and I made.”

“Why?” You ask.

“He doesn’t think you can change.” He admits.

Knowing your relationship with Jimin, you really can’t blame him for thinking that way, “I guess to someone like Jimin, that would make the most sense. I’ve never really been easy on him.”

“Yeah, but that’s biased!”

“Are you saying you aren’t biased?” You ask. Taehyung opens his mouth, but words don’t come out. You place a hand on his shoulder, “Jimin has his reasons.”

Taehyung sighs and looks to his lap, “I know, that’s what scares me…”

“Well, you kn-Oh!” You feel something cold at your feet and stand up. The water of the river has risen, slowly coming closer to you, “We should move back. The water is really coming in.” You take a few steps back, but Taehyung stays in his spot, “Taehyung?”

The moon god just lays back and looks to the sky where his planet shines bright, “Most of Jimin’s planet is made up of water. I’ve always loved it’s color and how beautiful it looks from my planet. I guess I’m just attracted to it.”

“It’s normal to be attracted to beautiful things.” You rationalize.

Taehyung tilts his head back to look at you, “Did you know that humans are 70% water?” He asks. You shake your head and he positions his so that he can see his planet again. “I think I have an obsession.”

“No.” You move to sit just above his head in the grass and lean over him ever so slightly, making sure the god can see you, “I think you have feelings.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “Is that really any better? Gods aren’t supposed to have feelings.”

His point is exactly what you had said to Hui, but the Universe had made some fair points as well, “Then why do we have them?”

“We?” Taehyung questions.

“You heard me. We all have them, even Hui and Yoongi do! Why would we have feelings if we aren’t supposed to have them?” You ask. Taehyung looks confused. He reaches his hand up and rests it at your cheek, holding it there for a moment before pinching it between his fingers “Ow!”

You slap his hand and he pulls it away, “Sorry, I just had to make sure you aren’t from Planet 181.” You give him a hard glare and he holds his hands in front of his chest, “It’s just weird that you’re being so positive and-...supportive.” You’re not usually a very supportive person. Of course, he’s been able to see a new side of you these past few days, but it’s still so new. It starts to make him think something else is going on.

He sits up and scoots himself back so he can sit next to you, “Did something happen with the council?”

“They-uh…” It’s hard to meet his eyes. You can only think back to what Hui had said about your own feelings in this moment, and you have to remind yourself that this needs to be a professional moment. You decide to tell him the better news. “Hui is leaving the situation in my hands. They’re going to stay out of it from now on.”

“I honestly can’t tell if that’s good news for me or not.” He jokes. You shake your head, but you find it hard to be mad at him. Over the past few days, you’ve really seen a change in him, and you’d be lying if you said you haven’t noticed your own changes. Maybe you can both win at the end of this.  

“Maybe it can be good.” He tilts his head in confusion and you sigh, “I will try to help you from here on out.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen in surprise, “Really?! But we still have one more day!”

“And you can still show me whatever you have left. I just-” You look for the right words to say. You don’t want to give him false hope, but there are ways to trick Fate. You just can’t do it alone, “Maybe there is something more I can do.”

“Really?!” You nod, “Oh! Yes! Thank you!” Taehyung tackles you to the ground with a hug, “You’re amazing! I knew I could change your mind!”

“Yeah, yeah.” You awkwardly pat Taehyung on the back, “Just know I’ll do my best. Now, get off of me!”

Taehyung rolls off of you, but he’s not ready to let go. His hand finds yours and he intertwines your fingers with his, “Thank you.”

“For what?” 

He squeezes your hand, “Giving me a chance.” 

“Fate isn’t very notorious for letting things just magically fall into place,” You admit. You turn your head to look at him and smile, “But second chances can happen.”

“I promise not to let you down.” He says. He looks back to the sky and sighs, “I just hope Eunha and Namjoon get the opportunity to spend time like this.”

 “Like this?” You ask, slightly confused.

“Together.”

He says it so innocently, that you’re unsure if he considers your relationship with him to be similar to theirs or if he enjoys the new dynamic the two of you have. He looks so at peace lying next to you, holding your hand and enjoying the view of his planet. His own rays bathe him in a healthy glow and you can feel a flutter in your chest. You can’t help but think of what he means to you.

Maybe you are in love with Taehyung.

*

*

*

Your weekend with Taehyung made you feel special and light, a bit more free than you’ve felt in a millennia. For once, you’ve haven’t worried over strings or worried about their pull. You only worried about yourself and you got to focus on what it’s like to step outside of the box. You got to be you, and now you’re one step closer to knowing how you feel about Taehyung.

But all good things must come to an end.

There’s a moment in time when a dam breaks that everything seems to slow down. It’s like gravity forgets to pull down and everything is left hanging in the air. Your stomach drops and life just seems to drain out of you knowing the inevitable is coming whether you want it to or not. That’s how it feels looking at your hands and following every last string to it’s end. 

“Are you going to tell him?” Hoseok asks.

You shake your head, “No.” You want to more than anything, but you can’t let your feelings cloud your judgement. Even if you did, you know Taehyung’s would guide him, and that has never worked well for anyone in the past. “Telling him won’t help him.”

“But he’s going to be really angry with you when he finds out.” Hoseok - the sweet God he is - picked up on your changes a while ago. He figured out your feelings even before Hui did, and seeing your progress be disrupted by this has him on edge.

“I’ll deal with it when I get there.” You assure him. You can’t worry about the future when you really need to focus on the now, “Did you find him?”

He nods, “It took a while, but Yoongi managed.”

You nod in approval, “Good. Don’t be too hard on him.”

“That’s not fun, (Y/n).” He whines.

You wave him off, “Just take Yoongi and do what I tell you.”

“Fine, but you owe me.” He relents. He turns to leave, but he turns back with a sly smirk, “Maybe we should call you the love god.”

“Goodbye, Hoseok!” 

He finally leaves, and you’re left with the possibilities ahead of you.

A happy ending isn’t written, it’s hardly even a good ending as far as humans would be concerned. The string knots and breaks every single time. It’s disappointing to say the least, especially after the promise you made to Taehyung. This will crush him just as much as it will crush Eunha to say goodbye, but you can’t let it continue on any longer. At this point, there’s nothing else you can do but wait for gravity to fall.

And fall it did.

Everything was fine. He was over the moon with the relationship he formed with you. Eunha seemed so happy after her break, especially after taking Namjoon with her. He’d hoped they bonded just like the two of you had. It seemed like all the strings were finally converging nicely, but he never thought something like this could happen.

He storms into your office without so much as a warning, “Did you know this would happen?!”

“Well, hello to you too.” You’re taken aback by his entrance, “Don’t worry, I wasn’t busy.”

“Did you know?” He asks again.

He’s angry, and there’s only two possible reasons why he’s behaving like this. But there’s only one way to be sure, “Did I know what?”

“Stop pretending like you don’t know!” He demands, “Eunha told Namjoon she wants to break the necklace.”

“So she chose that future…” You confirm. You look down at your hands, the faint glow of the strings illuminating them. There’s nothing you can do now, especially now that she’s already begun the process, “That’s her decision Taehyung, I don’t control her free will.”

“Can’t you change something?!” He asks. 

“You should already know it’s not that simple.” 

“How?! Every time you talk to me, you never talk to me!” He complains.

You’re confused, “What do you mean? I always talk to you.”

“No. You talk at me. There’s a difference.” He explains bitterly, “You don’t think I can handle the truth.”

You shrug, “Well, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Can you really?”

“Yes!”

“Well, it doesn’t seem like you can because you never seem to get it through your head!” You yell.

Taehyung scoffs, “And whose fault is that?”

“You think it’s mine?!”

“Well, it’s not for lack of communication on my part!”

“Bullshit!” You curse, “I’ve told you multiple, multiple, multiple times exactly what needed to be done and how things would play out and now it’s up to them and you never listen! You think I’m lying and that I’m working against you, but you don’t even understand how my job works!”

“Like looking at your hands is a big deal.”

“It’s a whole lot more than that and you know it!” Every time you think you’re past this argument, he always brings it back around, “I know you want them to be happy, and you want to keep your promise. I get that, but they can’t go on like this anymore. It’s only a matter of time before they break.”

Taehyung feels defeated. You had told him that you might be able to do something, but from where he’s standing you’re not making any effort at all. You’re just letting them both fall victim to their strings, and ignoring his pleas. It’s like you never really cared in the first place.

Of course, you want to do more, but there’s only so much one can do. Controlling Fate isn’t an option, “I really am sorry, Taehyung, but this is out of our hands.”

A scream rings out through the hallways and it catches the both of you off guard. To you, this is the beginning of the end. For Taehyung, this is his last and final chance.

You meet his eyes and you already know what he’s thinking, “There’s nothing you can do for them, Taehyung.”

“Watch me.”

He bolts, knocking a chair over in the process of running out the door. It catches you off guard, but you have far more tricks up your sleeve.

You travel to the main hall, just outside of the cafe, 10 feet in front of Taehyung who insists on running, “Taehyung, please stop and just listen to me for once.”

“I’m not just going to let this opportunity slip away!” He runs around you and you work fast to get in front of him again.

“Kim Taehyung! Don’t make me hold you down, because I will!” You threaten. You hold your hands out in front of you to block him, “You’re not thinking rationally! Stop behaving like a human!”

“Stop acting like a god!” He yells back, “You may be all-knowing, but you really don’t know as much as you think you do! They still have a small chance, and I’m not going to give up and let them slip through my fingers like you do!”

“Then you leave me no choice.”

You place your hands in front of you and pull them apart to reveal the strings that bind them together. You gently pull your pointer finger back, causing the string to tighten. Taehyung trips over it as another scream rings out through the museum.

He tries to get up, but you pull back again, “What are you doing?!” He yells.

“I’m trying to make this as painless as possible for everyone!” You explain, holding him tight in the chaos of your strings.

Another scream rings out and Taehyung struggles to break himself free, “Eunha needs me! Let me go!”

“You’ll just get hurt if I let you go, Taehyung!” You try to explain. You know how this ends, and you know how devastated he’ll be. You can’t do that to him. He’s been through enough, and this needs to end here and now before anyone else gets hurt. “I’m trying to help you!”

“Then stop trying!” He demands, “That’s how you can help me.”

You know he’s hurting, but you can’t pretend you aren’t hurt by his words, “Fine.” You let him go, but you’re not done yet, “But you’ll be too late.”

You make a fist with both hands and tug hard, a cacophony of sounds echoing down the hall. An entire hoard of museum exhibits have been brought to life and freed, and you let them. Taehyung is appalled, “You promised!”

“I promised I would help and do what I can.” You remind him, “This is the best possible outcome.”

You have good intentions, but Taehyung just can’t see it, “Letting them go through with it?! Breaking the spell! Making them say goodbye?!”

“Goodbye’s aren’t forever.” You know firsthand that this isn’t their end. Their paths most likely will never cross again, but that doesn’t mean they never will. Breaking the spell is the best chance they have at saving any connection they have, “Taehyung, you just have to trust me-”

“I’m done trusting you!” He yells, “Jimin was right, I never should have made that stupid deal! It was all for nothing.” 

He feels stupid and used, but most importantly, he feels betrayed. You promised him, but it was to play against him. He thought you changed, but you’re the same person you’ve always been. Uncaring, cold, and a god.

You’re Fate.

You try not to take his words to heart, but you can’t help it, “Was it really all for nothing?” Taehyung doesn’t say anything, and you feel the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach. You’re both silent.

And so is the museum.

Taehyung’s heart drops when he realizes that the once noisy hall is now bathed in silence, “No-” 

He looks to you for confirmation, and you can’t deny him the truth, “I’m sorry.”

“Eunha!” Taehyung takes off down the hall and disappears into thin air, no doubt to the King’s exhibit. He leaves you standing alone, wondering why doing the right thing has to hurt.

*

*

*

Taehyung never came back down from the 3rd floor exhibit. After Namjoon was officially gone and Eunha was left with the remains of their bond, Taehyung took off to mourn yet another loss. You never saw him leave, and Eunha didn’t say anything on the way out. You can only hope that she doesn’t let this affect her.

You really hope Taehyung will be forgiving.

“He hasn’t come back to the apartment since our fight.” Jimin confirms.

You stare out the window of your office, arms crossed as you scan the street for any sign of the Moon. It’s been 11 days since anyone has seen Taehyung, and you’re really starting to worry about him. 

“Did you check his planet?” You ask.

“He’s not there.” You turn to look at him, ready to ask if he checked the whole planet, but Jimin is 2 steps ahead of you, “I checked both sides.”

“Dammit!” You curse. You raise your hand to hold onto the shining necklace he’d bought you on your outing. You haven’t taken it off since he put it on you, and you’ve found yourself holding onto it to ground you when your strings start to pull you. “Please keep me updated.”

“Yeah…” Jimin looks you over. You’re nervous. Which is strange because the only emotion you ever usually show is anger. He’s seen plenty of humans act this way, and you seem to be genuinely worried about Taehyung. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

“Is that a problem?” You ask, glaring at him. 

He shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I didn’t peg you for someone with emotions.”

You sigh, “You’ve never had any reason to.” You sit down in your chair and lean back, “I’m sorry about that, by the way.”

“I don’t think it was all that bad. I got to expand my knowledge of humans, experience their cultures, and their unique qualities.” He explains, “Even the pleasurable ones.”

You close your eyes and choose to ignore that last part, “Well, at least you had something good come from it.”

“Hey-” He gets your attention, “I deserved it. You don’t have to regret it. Just promise me you’ll make this up to Taehyung.”

“I will.” You promise.

Jimin nods in approval and turns to leave. On his way out, he bumps into Yoongi, “Well, hello Yoongi~”

“Hi Jimin.” Life greets, unamused by his presence.

You wait for Jimin to leave before you sit up and get to business, “Have you found him?”

“Which one?”

“Taehyung.”

“No.” Your shoulders fall and Yoongi sighs. He sits down across from you, “Give him some time to process this.”

You shake your head, “This is exactly what I was afraid of.”

“You did the right thing.” He assures you.

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

“Just hold out a little longer.” 

“Fine.” You agree. Yoongi has never steered you wrong, so you don’t see why he would now. Holding out a bit more hope won’t hurt you.

“Hoseok and I are almost ready, by the way.” He adds.

“And you’re sure it’ll work?” You ask. Yoongi shrugs, not a very good sign for what you have planned. “Yoongi!”

“There’s a first time for everything!” He argues, “We put our faith in you, now you do the same.”

You really don’t want to chance this blowing up in your face - you know Seowoo would never let you hear the end of it - but this may be the only way to fix everything. You can only hope Yoongi and Hoseok can actually pull it off, “Please don’t make me regret this.”

Yoongi seems to be able to read you mind, “I don’t want to deal with Seowoo just as much as you don’t want to.”

A knock comes from the door, “Excuse me?” Both you and Yoongi turn to see Seokjin standing in your doorway. He seems very apologetic as he looks between the both of you, “Sorry to interrupt, but I was told to come and see you.”

“No problem at all! We’re just finishing up.” You assure the human.

Yoongi stands and brushes off his pants, “I’ll let you know what happens later.” He says goodbye to Seokjin and the greeter bows as he leaves. 

“Have a seat, Seokjin.” You offer, pointing to the chair in front of you. He accepts your offer and you pull open your desk drawer to grab the file you made specifically for him, “I just wanted to start off by saying thank you so much for continuing to be such a hard worker. Every time I see you, you’re engaging our patrons with a smile on your face, and I have received numerous compliments from others about what a wonderful greeter I have at my front door.”

He smiles, “Thank you, ma’am. I really try my best to make our guests happy and feel welcome.”

He’s so humble, and that’s one of the things you like the most about him, “I know, and that’s why I wanted to offer a promotion to you.”

“A promotion?”

“You’ve worked well with us for a few years now, I think a promotion is appropriate. You’re very familiar with Ms. Kang, yes?” You ask, knowing very well that he knows his supervisor.

“Of course! She’s a wonderful supervisor.”

“Well, she wants to retire, and I want you to fill her role.” You explain, “You’re still more than welcome to maintain your position as a greeter with your promotion, but entrance maintenance and customer satisfaction will be left to you.”

“Oh wow...I don’t know what to say.” He admits, taking in the new information.

You nod in understanding, “I don’t need an answer now. Her retirement is a few months away, but I want to put it on the table.”

“Yes! Of course! Thank you!” He struggles to find the right words to express his gratitude, “I would love to take over when she steps down!”

“I’m glad to hear that.” You hand him the file you made, all of the information he’ll be needing tucked away inside, “You’ll be working closely with our curators and our security, so I would start to build those relationships if you haven’t already. But I’m sure you already have.”

He nods, “Yes, ma’am. I’m good friends with a lot of the museum staff.”

“If you need someone to help you, check with Kim Taehyung. He’s very much a people person.” You suggest.

“I will!” He agrees, “I know he’s not here today, but I’ll ask him when he’s done at the river.”

“The river?” You ask.

“He called in again today. He said he hasn’t been feeling himself.” Seokjin explains, “I sent him a text just to check in and he said he just needed some time to think in his favorite spot. His favorite spot is by the river.”

“Yes. I see.” You hum. As much as you’d like to continue your conversation with him, you want - more than anything - to go find Taehyung and talk to him. You fake checking your watch and smile, “I look forward to seeing how you grow, Seokjin, but I’m afraid I need to be on my way to a meeting with a few sponsors.”

“Of course!” He stands and so do you, extending a hand to congratulate him. “Thank you again for this opportunity.”

You nod, “Anything I can do.”

He leaves and you quickly pack your things, walking out of the building to keep up appearances. You make it around the corner to a section of sidewalk completely unlit by streetlights before you travel to the river in search of the moon god. The last time he was here, he’d caused havoc and quite literally trashed whatever was in his path. Your hope is that you’ll find him exactly where you had last time.

You don’t see him in the grass when you first pass by, but taking a second look, you do find him with the water up to his chest and his legs floating in front of him. His eyes are closed and he looks to have blocked out everything around him. He just lays in the quiet, in the water, under the stars.

“Taehyung…” You approach him slowly, coming to the edge of the water, and hesitantly taking a seat. You bring your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them, “If you’re not careful, then you’ll drift away.”

He sighs, “I’d rather drift away than feel nothing anymore.”

You don’t know what to say to that. He’s in mourning, and you understand that this all must be hard for him. Especially dealing with a loss for a second time. You want to comfort him, but comfort isn’t something you really know how to do.

Of course, Taehyung knows you don’t know what comfort is. That’s all he’s been able to think about since that night at the museum. You tried so hard to keep him away from what was happening to protect him, and he refused to listen. You weren’t lying when you said you were doing what was best for him. 

You weren’t lying about a lot of things.

“Why am I cursed to be the moon? Why must I be so lonely and powerless compared to others?” He asks aloud. You don’t have an answer, and he doesn’t expect one, “Dwarf planets aren’t required to stay with their planets, they don’t require attention. So, why do I have to stay with mine when I have nothing to offer?”

“I don’t know...”

“I’m just the Moon. There’s nothing special about me. I’m just a hopeless romantic ruining the lives of others for my own personal enjoyment.” He’s defeated. He tried so hard. He did everything he possibly could and it still wasn’t enough. “I’m the exact thing I told you I wasn’t.”

Of course, you’ve known how this would inevitably end from the beginning. Whether you were on his side from the start or not, you knew that trying to bring Eunha and Namjoon would end in goodbye for everyone. Of course, there were multiple bad and good outcomes, but this was luckily one of the better ones.

Is he a hopeless romantic? The biggest one you’ve ever seen. 

But was he wrong? You’re not entirely sure. However, if there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that Taehyung deserves to know the truth.

He deserves to know everything.

“That first time you tried to bring them together-” He turns his head to look at you, “Namjoon still would have died from sickness. It wouldn’t have gone away.” You’d hoped that maybe for once, you wouldn’t be right. If you were lucky, then his necklace would work and he’d feel proud and he’d go home. But you couldn’t let it work just for Namjoon to die. “That’s why I sent the guards in.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I thought that if I told you then, that you would’ve tried again.” You say. Thinking about it makes you laugh considering where you are now, “I guess you would’ve tried anyways.”

He sits up in the water and scoots back, “Yeah...I probably would have.”

“Do you remember when Namjoon died and I came to present you to the counsel?” You ask. He nods, “You told me that maybe if I had an ounce of compassion that people would like me better?”

“Yeah...” He had said that to you. It was out of anger and sorrow, and he never did get the chance to apologize for it.

“I think I’d like myself better too.” You admit, “When I was younger and more naive, I always thought I could pull my strings how I pleased. I thought I could do whatever I wanted, and that ended with ruined lives and the deaths of thousands.”

“You? Ruining lives and causing death?” He asks, almost in disbelief.

You nod, “Hui had to stop me before it got too bad, and he introduced me to Hoseok and Yoongi. He had us learn together how to keep balance, and he told me that I couldn’t allow myself to get caught up with one measly human or I’d never treat any of them fairly.” He was right in a way, but he himself has grown more too. “That’s why I’ve been so terrible.”

Taehyung shakes his head, “You’ve been doing your job.”

You scoff, “Some job I have.”

“No one ever said it was easy to do what you do.” He says. You’re shocked to say the least, he’s the last person you would have expected to back you up. But he’s had time to think everything over. “I shouldn’t have said it was. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“We all have to learn. It’d be easier if it stuck quicker for some.” You tease, earning a laugh from the Moon. He didn’t pick up on the severity of the situation quite as quickly, but maybe he would have if you had been more honest with him. “Actually, you’re familiar with Seokjin, right?”

“Of course! He’s a good friend.”

“He’s one of the first and last strings I ever knotted.”

“Wait, really?” You nod, “Is that why he can never keep a date?”

“It was very early on, humanity had just been created and I was figuring everything out. At the time, I was much more compassionate towards humans.” You explain. You were very much like Taehyung when you first started, but you didn’t stay like that for long. “He liked this girl, and I thought if I just pulled a few strings then they would come together and live happy for the rest of their lives, but-”

He gasps, “Their strings knotted.”

“I tried to fix it. I thought I could tie them back together, but I couldn’t.” You still remember watching Seokjin say goodbye to his destined lover. He was devastated and it was all your fault. He hasn’t run into them since, and you don’t know that he ever will. “I ruined their lives because I couldn’t do my job.”

“You did what you thought was right.” Taehyung assures you, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

You smile, “So did you.” You lean against his side and rest your head on his shoulder.

Taehyung rests his head on top of yours and sighs, “What are we going to do about Eunha?” 

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He asks, surprised, “But she knows.”

“She won’t tell. She’s too busy mourning to worry herself over us.” You seriously doubt she’ll risk telling everyone about the two of you. But still, everything she’s going through right now can’t be easy. “I guess it really isn’t easy to be in love.”

“Love?”

“Love.”

~ Read: Finale ~

[dancingthesambaa]

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 14

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Also as a heads up, since college started back up for me I decided to change my posting to every Thursday night rather than Friday Mornings. There also might be times where I won't be able to post that week or be late due to schooling, so this is an apology in advance!!!

Chapter 14: Memories Intertwined

A clear cut path was set for the public eye as it stood between rows upon rows of Plum Blossom trees and flowers spread all around. There were quite an abundance of people along these paths as families came together for a picnic, couples went for a stroll together as they held hands, or the occasional jogger or artist that ran or drew as they wandered in. Many don’t try to venture off the path, not because of its danger, but rather in fear of getting lost in the woods.

Well except for two people, a human and a Monkey, as they stood on the outskirts of the forest.

“Well this is it, welcome to the Plum Blossom Forest,” MK said as with his arms raised high. “The most awesomest place to be.”

It took a few minutes for Wukong to respond as he took in the beautiful view, but also felt that there was something else rooted in the leaves, along the branches, and deep into the ground within the forest. It wasn’t bad, just something different. Normal trees don't usually have any types of aura on them unless they are spiritual in nature, these aren’t those types of trees. At the same time though it does, he can’t quite put his fingers on it, but it just feels like…like safety. “Yeah, it is.”

“Monkey King?”

“O-oh yeah,” he snapped out of it, “this place looks absolutely amazing.”

“It sure is, now follow me,” MK went into the forest as the Monkey King followed.

“It would probably be faster if I used my cloud instead of going through the forest, you know,” he pointed out.

“Sure, but this is your first time, so you have to experience it on foot at least for your very first experience!” He countered.

“You got me there,” he grinned, “on foot it is. So, tell me more about this place, anything interesting about it besides the abundance of trees?”

“Tons! Like this forest doesn’t just have regular animals, but it also has so many mythical creatures living here!”

“Really? What kind?”

“Well we have a few Qilins that like to roam around here.”

“Qilin, haven’t seen one of those in a hot second,” he muttered.

“They sometimes come and go, but some even make a den here,” MK continued.

The further they went in the clearer it was that MK really knew the forest as he began to excitedly tell all sorts of things to his mentor.

“So the faeries tribe get along with the Xianglu? Now that is something I didn’t think was possible, the faeries are especially a…crafty bunch,” which was Wukong's way of saying manipulative sons of bitches. He got lost in a forest for a month because of those little bastards.

“Not really surprisingly, they both like to collect shiny things so they usually like to show the other what they have found, bargained, and/or stolen,” he shrugged. “And-oh hey BaBa!” He cheerily waved to his long time friend.

Wukong just blinked as he looked at her and just nodded, “Okay, not even gonna ask how or why he managed to get a Bashe here.”

“Dad says that apparently she just came here one day and decided to stay.”

The monkey opened his mouth and promptly closed it instead to bow to her, “It’s nice to meet you.”

BaBa gave a shallow nod to him and laid her giant head back down and curled up in the sun rays.

“Come on! We’re almost there,” he grabbed the Monkey King's hand and dragged him back on track, or at least they tried to get back on track as not even twenty minutes later, MK was ambushed by a couple of macaque monkeys.

“Guys! Guys! I’ll play with you all later,” he tried to push them away, but they held a tight grip on him. “Guys! Why are-don’t you even think about it,” he snatched one by the tail, who was sneakily digging into his pockets and hanged him upside down. “Really?”

They all just grinned at him as the infants attempted once more.

“That’s-okay, no! You can’t just steal from me like that unless you have a distraction in place,” he managed to gather all four of them in his arms and put them down. “A distraction helps a lot, it will steer your target attention away from the pickpocketer and towards something else.”

The monkeys were paying very much attention to his impromptu lecture as they stared wide eyed.

Wukong, on the other hand, was holding back his laugh as he looked on in the scene with fondness and amusement as he was drawn into a familiar memory.

“I can easily steal from those people no problem, why do I have to disguise myself and sneak in?” Wukong groaned out as they made their way to the edge of the market.

“Just because they look weak doesn’t mean they are, haven’t you heard the phrase ‘Don’t judge things on how they look.’” Macaque argued back.

“No.”

“Of course you haven’t,” he rolled his eyes, “well how about this, you distract them, I’ll grab the food from the assholes.”

“Works for me!” He happily threw away his brown cloak and gave a loud screech as he dashed through the market causing a huge commotion when he ran into people.

“I didn’t mean now,” he hissed to himself as he quickly grabbed the fallen cloak, but nonetheless got to work as he stole from the fruit vendor, who cussed them both out yesterday, grabbed a few loaves of bread from the bitch who decided to stomp on Wukong tail, and took a few things here and there from customers who he recognized from other days that always sneered in disgust when they saw him.

He was just about done wrapping up, and with such a nice haul, all that was left now was to sneak around and look for Wukong, quickly tug on his shadow to bail out and make way to the forest.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work out quite like that as not even twenty paces in he heard sounds of a fight occurring as many scruffed up looking people were all going at it at each other, and guess which reckless monkey is in the middle of it all.

“Damn it Wukong,” his eye twitched as he once again contemplated about leaving his reckless ass, but begrudgingly moved his way to the front. The first, and last, time he had tried that, he got side tackled hard by the monkey and he swears the bruises haven’t left him since.

When he reached the point where he was not entirely in the front, but still had a good angle on the fight, he saw that it wasn’t just humans that were drunkenly fighting each other, but also demons…who were wielding weapons.

“Shit!” The monkey shrieked as he dodged a flaming spear to the back of the head.

Weapons that happened to be enchanted…great.

“How does he even get himself into these messes,” Macaque lowly growled as he made sure everyone's attention was focused on the fight before slipping into the shadows, something he has recently been learning when he saw something on the rooftop. There was a figure standing there and in his hands was a bow and arrow that was aimed right towards the fighting monkey.

Now this wouldn’t usually worry him, he has seen him tussle with deities for fun, but then he noticed that the arrow too was also enchanted as he heard a soft crackle and saw a shimmering blue glow as he soon released it.

“Shit!” He quickly, and he will admit a bit recklessly, dived into the shadows and straight in the middle of the brawl.

Good news, he made it to the middle of the brawl and tackled his friend out of the way. Bad news, he currently has an arrow stuck in his right shoulder that hurt worse than the time he got stabbed by the selkie.

“Fuck!” He grunted as he laid on top of Wukong and promptly winced when everyone started screaming at the arrow that came out of nowhere.

“Mac! What do you do that for-your shoulder!” He screeched as he got the monkey off of him and sat him up and saw his shoulder was currently smoking. He didn’t even look back to use his tail to throw the man about to attack them from behind as he was focused on the arrow. “What happened?!”

“We can worry about this later,” he gritted as he tried to stand up, only for his head to feel dizzy and he stumbled.

Wukong quickly grabbed him before he could fall and set him back down. He knew that he had to get the arrow out of him soon, but now was not the best time to do that as he gazed upon the people looming over them. He looked to see his friend trying to stand back up despite his injuries and was fully ready to fight back with him.

It was time to go.

The monkey stopped his black furred companion from moving, “Shall we bail?”

Macaque gave a nod as he grabbed his friend and sank him down into the shadows once more and managed to travel all the way to the outskirts of the fight. They didn’t stop there though as Macaque quickly gave Wukong his cloak back and the two began to make their way through the town, past the entrance, and back into the field with a large tree stood, which is where they agreed to meet up in case things went south, like a lot of times before.

“Well,” the injured monkey grunted as he sat down, “that could have gone a lot worse.”

“You're telling me,” the bruised simian agreed as he began to look over the arrow that was still embedded in his friend's back. “Sit still, I’m about to take this out.”

“Yeahhh, it hurts like hell,” he grumbled as he sat in place as Wukong got the arrow out and only flinched when he began to lick the wound shut. The first time he found out that this was a thing was when he pricked his hand against a thorny bush and the impulsive simian decided to put his finger in his mouth without warning. He had almost chucked the monkey for that. Soon enough it was over as the bleeding stopped and the tongue left his back.

“That should be good, though you were an idiot for getting struck in the first place,” he said.

“Me?! I was only doing that to save your stupid ass,” he indignantly said.

“I would have been fine!”

“Maybe, but I wasn’t about to take that chance with an enchanted weapon,” he shot back.

“That does explain the weird marking, wait there was another one?” He was already interested in that flaming stick that the demon used, but now there was another weapon he didn’t even see…that had struck his friend…he really wants a round two with those fuckers. “Who even were they?”

“Hopefully people we don’t have to meet anytime soon,” Mac grunted as he took the sack that he managed to quickly snag on their way back and grabbed himself a nice looking mango. “Come to papa,” he said and took a big bite.

“Bring it here,” he said and he caught the bag thrown at him and rummaged through it a bit before he found some nice looking loquat.

After that, they filled the two rested up in the tree, and dozed off in a peaceful slumber. Though the same couldn’t be said for a certain group of people as in the middle of the night they were ambushed by a cloaked figure and proceeded to get thoroughly pummeled into unconsciousness, the archer especially as his hands were broken beyond use and his bow shattered. Then the figure slipped off into the night with his hoard of coins and trinket stashed into his pocket and bounded his back to the tree where his friend laid.

No one was allowed to mess with anything that was claimed by the great Monkey King after all.

“Bye! Now use that to mess with everyone else!” He was snapped back to reality as he saw the monkeys leaving and MK waving to them. “But don’t use it on the faeries please, they tend to hold grudges!”

They got screeches of confirmation as they eventually vanished from sight and were ready to commence their new found knowledge amongst the wildlife.

“Alrighty,” his protege clapped his hands, “let’s back on track.”

“I’m just gonna assume that means we’re heading to that big tree over there,” he pointed to the enormous tree they were heading towards.

“Yup! It’s the very first Plum Blossom Tree that was grown here!” He stated as they continued onward, “and it’s where our home is.”

“You guys live in a treehouse,” Monkey King amusedly said.

“Yup!” He exclaimed as he began to climb up the tree and leap towards the house, “race ya there!”

“You're trying to challenge a monkey?” He grinned as he easily began to catch up to him. “You don’t stand a chance!”

“Home Field advantage!”

“Dream on!”

“First!” Wukong cheered as he landed on the wooden porch.

“Damnit!” MK said not even a second after, “you cheated! You pulled me down!”

“All is fair in love and races,” he cockily grins then he stilled as he felt a killer intent behind him. He swiveled around only to stop and see a smiling child behind him. “Hel-”

“MK, it’s about time you got here,” the girl playfully rolled her eyes as she wrapped her arm around him. “It took you long enough.”

“Says the one who was lazing about here waiting for us, speaking of us,” he wiggled out of his sister's arm and pointed to the monkey. “Mei meet the Monkey King!”

It could have just been Wukong, but he swore that her grin seemed to grow a little wider when their eyes met. “It’s nice to meet you Mei,” he tried to play off that weird feeling.

“Same,” she said as she stepped forward and pushed MK towards the kitchen, “it’s your turn to help pops in the kitchen.”

“Why? Can’t you do it?” He whined, he literally just finished walking here.

“I already did my part, now wash those nasty hands of yours,” she fully pushed him out the room.

“But-”

“Bye~”

“Ugh fine!,” he huffed and turned to his mentor, “You can wait in the living room with Mei! I’m pretty sure there are still some plums if you want, we have plenty of those.”

“You're telling me,” Wukong chuckled as he saw his student leave the room, so he turned back to Mei. “So how long have you-” he paused as he saw the pigtailed girl hold up a small piece of paper in front of him with words saying.

I don’t like you

“Umm,” he paused as Mei continued to smile.

“Well let me show you the living room,” she said as she went to the next card.

You may be MK mentor, the great and powerful Monkey King, and Dad old friend, and they may have both forgiven you, but I will not

“Thank you,” he managed to wrangle out as he followed Mei who began to walk forward.

“It’s no problem,” she said as they made it to the living room and held out the last card. “Just promise me to remember where it is next time monkey man.”

I know what happened and I’m keeping an eye on you, cause if you fuck up again then it won’t be pretty

Her eyes glowed a dark green as she stared down with wary golden eyes.

“I promise,” he nodded his head.

She looked at him for a few moments before walking away, passing by a trash can filled with torn up letters, and to the kitchen, but not before calling out, “I do hope you keep that in mind.”

It was only after she had left that Wukong sank down into his seat and breathed. ‘Well that wasn’t frightening at all,’ he sarcastically said to himself as he picked up a plum from the middle of the table and began to eat it. ‘I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I expected it to be from the awkwardness, not the girl who looked like she would gladly see me twenty feet under.’

He would continue his train of thought, but then he smelled something delicious making his way to him and saw Mac walk towards him with a plate in hand.

“Hope you still like dumplings,” he said as he plopped a huge tray of dumplings, filled with various fillings, in the middle of the table.

“Hell yeah…So you learned how to cook?” He was about to reach for the chopstick but paused and waited until the other monkey sat down first.

“Kinda had to with everything and all,” he didn’t specify as he sat down on a chair adjacent to the couch Wukong was on.

“Do you know how to cook?” Wukong was momentarily surprised at MK's voice as he and Mei were actually following behind the monkey and carrying plates, cups, and a pot.

“In a way yes, thank you,” he nodded his head to Mei as she gave him a wide grin.

“Hair food does not count,” Mac deadpanned.

“Hair food?” Both teenagers looked in confusion.

“He uses his hair to make food.”

“It’s not that bad,” he tried to defend himself.

“It’s fast I’ll admit, but it’s bland as hell,” he stated.

“It’s still not that bad.”

“I’ll take your word for that,” MK said as he sat down next to his mentor and happily began to eat the dumpling.

Wukong, after seeing everyone starting to eat, began to follow suit and his eyes widened as he quickly grabbed another dumpling. “This is delicious!”

“More than your hair food,” the black simian smirk.

Wukong stuffed another dumpling in his mouth in place of answering and drank some Plum tea, only to blink in surprise. “What kind of tea is spicy?”

“Pffft,” Mac couldn’t help himself as he barked out a laugh that was quickly followed by MK giggles.

And that’s how it was for the rest of the lunch, small chatter here and there, mostly from MK as he talked about his week or Wukong in his small questions from ‘What he likes to grow in his garden?’ to ‘How long did he take to build his home?’ It was nothing too invasive, just simple questions here and there and they finished up the plate, though there was a small fight between both humans and the sage monkey over who would get the last beef dumpling. It was a tense match, but it was MK who won in the end after a serious battle of Jan Ken Po.

“Victory tastes so good,” he smirked as he devoured the dumpling.

“I will remember this,” Mei hissed as she messed with her pigtails.

“Maybe it’s time we review the basics again,” Wukong huffed and he slurped down the tea.

“You're just mad that I won.”

“Children all of you,” Mac said as he got his clone to put the plates in the sink.

“You're not wrong,” she said as she leaned back against him.

The simian hands then began to unconsciously undo her messed up pigtails and groom her hair. Both parties didn’t really take note of the change as this was a daily routine for anyone who has known them long enough.

Wukong just eyed the scene with mirth and a small bit of jealousy, that he will forever deny, as he watched his friend groom his child.

“Can I groom your fur,” he was startled by MK’s question.

“Wha-I mean, sure,” he quickly agreed after getting caught off by the question.

He smiled widely as he pushed the great sage Monkey King to the floor and began to gently groom his hair as well. He couldn’t help himself slowly become relaxed as the fingers gently caressed his fur. He has done this multiple times with his tribe, but this feeling will never get old.

“What is up with your fur being so soft?” The boy commented, “Dad’s fur is super soft and now yours? Is there a rule that demon monkey fur has to be soft?”

“Technically not a demon, but that is just the side effect of quality grooming,” he had to stop himself from letting a purr out as the kid continued. “Makes the fur nice and silky.”

He didn’t really pay attention to what his student said next as he closed his eyes and let the soft hands thread through his fur then when he opened his eyes once more it was dark and the hands had stopped.

He took a quick glance around and saw that he must have dozed off during their impromptu grooming session as he saw MK was now leaning against him in deep sleep and Mei curled up like a small cat on the couch with a pillow under her head. Yet there was no Macaque insight, his eyes flashed a bright golden as he scanned the area and saw the familiar outline of violet aura sitting on the railing outside.

So, he carefully dislodged himself from his student grip, laid him down gently with a blanket, and softly padded his way outside the warm home and into the cool night air.

“Could have sworn you were passed out,” Mac said as Wukong sat down next to him.

“What can I say, grooming plus silence equals sleepy time,” he shrugged, kicking his feet as he looked around, “you do have a nice home.”

“Thanks,” he awkwardly answered.

“Must have taken quite some time to build.”

“A few years.”

“Oh,” he said, then an awkward silence filled the air as neither side knew what to do without the kids acting as some sort of buffer between the two. Neither monkeys knew how to go from here despite one inviting the other over, they didn't know where exactly how to start nor, which is both their biggest worry, how it might end. But the inevitable conversation did need to start, so Wukong turned to his friend.

“Look, about the whole fight the other day and me saying you were just trying to use MK, I’m sorry,” he really knew he did a major fuck up then. “You really do care for the both of them and I can tell that they really love you as well.”

“…thanks, I got really lucky having them in my life,” he smiled then he winced, “Sorry about almost killing your friends back then, that was stupid of me.”

“Yeahhh, about that,” he turned his whole body to face him, “that has been nagging me for the longest of times. Why did you attack them?” He surprisingly watched the black furred monkey groan and put his face in his hands.

“It was both parts stupidly and sheer impulsiveness. I came to find you after Guanyin freed you and I heard you screaming and I saw you in pain, I thought you were being tortured,” he quietly replied.

Wukong's eyes were shot wide open as the truth of this finally came to light. This whole time he thought rage towards humans finally erupted in one huge explosion and attacked them, but it wasn’t. That wasn’t it. Macaque attacked them because he thought they were hurting him, he attacked his friends because he thought he was in pain because of them. Everything that happened, from the fight to their long separation was due to a fucking screwed-up misunderstanding!

“Oh,” yet he didn’t know how to voice any of that out, which is ironic considering he is known for being a loudmouth after his impulsiveness.

“I am sorry,” he reiterated as he barely got a reaction out of his friend. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, but I just heard screams and I saw you lying there, that I couldn’t stop myself from listening to the voices,” he admitted. Wukong is one of the few people he has ever told about the voices that like to whisper in his ears all their malicious intent and their cruel lust.

“…we both are truly hot messes huh,” he finally said as he looked back to the moon and gave him a small nudge. “Just look at the two of us, you somehow became the recluse medicine man that lives in the forest alone, but still somehow ends up with two kids, and me, who lives up in the tallest of mountains and became the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.”

“You forgot to add reckless idiot, somewhere there,” Mac lightly jokes.

“Heh yeah…I forgive you,” he quietly stated.

Macaque whipped his head to him, “Just like that? I almost killed you and your friends back then and that whole fight, and the words-” they both winced at the reminder of those damned words they spoke to the other. “What I did was horrible.”

“And we fought and I made you fucking blind!” He hissed out as he tried to see past the glamor in place to look at his hazy eye.

“I’m pretty sure I left you with a few scars yourself,” he shot back.

“A few scars are nothing compared to being blind!”

“That is just one injury compared to the multitude!”

“It doesn’t work like that, you are literally a physician?!” He threw his hands up.

“And I do declare myself completely capable despite my disability!” He barked back.

“I never said you weren’t capable, I know better than to underestimate you. Remember back with the fire spirits.”

“Which ones?”

“The arrogant bastard ones.”

“Which ones? There are numerous of them,” he deadpanned.

“The ones centered by the river, you know the spirits who thought they were powerful enough-”

“To take on the deity that commanded that puddle of water,” he said with him and continued. “I still can’t believe that those words came out of his mouth,” he snorted.

“And after we kicked their asses,” Wukong reminded him with a wide grin, “remember the look on their faces when the river goddess heard what they said.”

“I have never seen a fire spirit look like they want to piss themselves that fast before,” he barked out his laughter.

“Right!”

The two shared a laugh at the memory of the deity whooping their asses once more as the arrogant spirits either ran away screaming or died beneath her thundering waves. Both of them were completely safe as they watched the entire thing from on top of a tree and made bets over which idiots would survive. Their laughter eventually died down as the night silence took over once more, but it wasn’t the awkward silence that greeted them but a kindling of familiar comfort they shared before.

“We really are idiots,” the medicine monkey faintly commented.

“Glad to hear you finally admit it,” the sage monkey replied then he paused as he thought for a moment, but pushed forward. “After our many years of friendship, I would have never thought I would ever hear the day.”

Mac's eyes widened at his admission, “Friends?”

“Yep,” he boldly looked him in the eyes, “I mean I have spent centuries with you, so I think we are way past that level you know.”

“Despite not seeing each other in between those centuries,” the simian retorted.

“Well friends do have stupid fights with each other sometimes, it’s just not specifically for mortals you know,” the monkey slightly grinned.

“You're not wrong,” he swung his feet, “do…do you want to start over? Maybe try anew?” Thinking that maybe they couldn’t go back to how things were before, how the easy smiles and laughter that they used to share between the two of them and thoroughly dissipated. That maybe, if they begin right here and right now, there can be some resemblance of that bond that was once shattered.

Wukong let that answer sink in and ponder it only for a few moments before shuddering. “I…no I really don’t,” he said with a surprising harshness in his tone. “You were the one person who has known me longer than anyone other than the ones that still reside on the mountain, you are the only one who knows me the best out of anyone, and call me selfish, but I don’t want to start over with the only person who knew me from the inside out and still give a damn about me.” He can’t even imagine just throwing away all those years that he spent with moonshine, it would be easier if they ripped his head out instead, at least then the pain won’t be so bad. “So how about we both agree we made and did stupid ass decisions and continue on, cause if I’m being honest here, I really missed your grooming,” he teased.

“You just want me for my hands,” he couldn’t help but say.

“You do have very lovely hands,” he didn’t deny.

Macaque snorted before nodding, “Yeah, I like that peaches.”

“It’s been a while, mango,” Wukong grinned as he took in his friend form once more. He really had changed a lot since the last time he saw him, who he was is still the same, but he has opened up his soul a little wider and has beautifully flourished. Just how, well he just has to see more for himself. But not just his soul, but his whole outer appearance and he’s not talking about his ‘feminine’ clothing, both of them aren’t ones who care for gender roles or whatever the humans have decided their identity is based around. Rather his long fur that is swaying gently in the breeze under the moonlight night.

He couldn’t stop himself from taking glances at that fur each time he looked at the black furred simian. From just the sheer size to the fluffiness, as his student had proclaimed (though he can’t help but agree) he really just wants to thread his fingers through his fur. Maybe it’s just the absence of not grooming his friend fur in a long ass time, but he wants to remember how soft his fur is, to gently smooth out any tangles, to let him sit in between his legs as Mac sinks into his ministration and purr once more, to hold him as long as he can as they gently relax in each other arms to have his hands move down from his gorgeous fur and to his beautiful face and tilt his head up so that his golden eyes meet his own and ben his head down to meet-…oh.

And it was at this moment as he stared at Liu Er face did the thought occur to him as their tails unconsciously had entwined for the first time in over five hundred years and sat together beneath the stars.

��I still love him,’ he faintly thought and his own heart pounded in confirmation. Not even when they have been separated for five hundred years did he stop loving his moonlight. ‘I really won’t stop loving him…and for some reason, I don’t mind.’

But instead of saying anything, he instead put his face on top of Macque's head and playfully nuzzled him. He can see his moon fondly rolling his eyes at his antics, but lean in as he feels his smaller friend rest his head on his shoulder.

‘This is enough,’ both simians privately thought as they cuddled close together.

Though they weren’t quite alone as two pairs of eyes were trained on them from the living room and they haven’t moved an inch since they heard Monkey King walk outside for the first time.

Mei and MK looked at each other in complete shock as they took in the scene. The surprise wasn’t from their conversation nor from the harmonious aura that surrounded them, but rather from the black and brown tails that were intertwined with each other. Now they may not know how romantic love feels and looks except from t.v, movies, couples strolling, and the scarce amount of times Mei parents come around, but they can tell there is something definitely there as it was hanging around the two monkeys and seeing them like this, it clicked.

‘Holy shit, Monkey King is the old flame!’ MK exclaimed with his eyes as he looked toward Mei.

‘It would seem so,’ her eyes flickered.

‘And he likes Dad back!’ His eyes widened.

‘Indeed he does,’ she narrowed her viridian eyes.

‘What do we do?’ He blinked three times as he was happy that they reconciled, but was unsure of what’s to come.

‘Watch for now and see what happens,’ she breathed as they both turned to look at the two silent monkeys basking together in the night.

Slow burn? Slow Burn?! They have been slow burning for countless centuries that even the polar bears are starting to feel the heat

HAHAHAHA I’m turning up the fucking heat for these damn monkeys

[shortiedreams]

Nobles in the night

Requested by @jwxei

Pairing: Bakugo x (fem) Reader 

Synopsis: You’re a princess set out to kill the king of your nation. Will you succeed?

Word count: 1,821

CW: Attempted murder

A/N: Played ‘Phantom of the Opera’ soundtracks whilst writing this. Dying right now ✌️

_

“The hour of the ball has transpired.” a hushed voice came from behind the entrance.

With the help of his usual dynamic tone, Bakugo immediately recognises the familiar voice of his fidus Achates, Kirishima Eijiro. 

“Very well.” he sighs, and Kirishima could almost hear a frown through his raspy voice. 

None of this was going the way Bakugo wanted it to, yet he couldn’t back out anymore; it was simply too late.

“I’ll be taking my leave then, your majesty.” Kirishima reports.

“Please do.”

Bakugo examines his profile in the gilded mirror. He glowers at his own reflection, how outlandish he looked in his formal attire. Even short of the mantle cloak he was supposed to wear tonight, everything about what he’s dressed himself was far too extravagant for his liking.

He poses again with several new angles as if his judgements will change in one swift movement, but of course, it still feels improper.

He drops his eyes in defeat, succumbing to the unadorned fact that he was going to have to get used to the policies of being king.

He has no idea why everyone worshipped the throne. All he ever wanted was to live a secluded life with his family and friends. 

In actuality, that was what he had before the Mediterranean War a year prior to the present, wiping out the entirety of his family, ergo his newfound entitlement: the king. Kirishima was the only part of his childhood that remained, the only part of his childhood he still had physical contact with. It wasn’t surprising to say that he was very attached to the man, granting him the chancellor’s position. 

Which is why with Kirishima and his family’s former support, it was impossible for him to deny the tradition of the annual ball no matter how much he opposes it. He hates the notion of prattling aristocrats shattering his peace and quietness. Even more so of his invitation to you, the Princess of Agathinos, under the monarchy’s recommendation. This would be the first time a guest with royal blood would visit the palace ever since his family’s death. 

As always, Bakugo initially wanted to decline, but Kirishima advised him that he should accept it since it was ‘time’ for him to start courting. He thought Kirishima was being a nuisance, then again he also didn’t want to be looked down on by the aristocrats. He already knows there are rumours of him, calling him all sorts of names like ‘boorish to women’ or ‘ a  critter of another nation’. 

Bakugo was a smart man, so it didn’t take him much to realise that if he really terminated these accustomed traditions, the public would cause unnecessary commotions. Therefore, for the sake of his future peace and his reputation, the ball is set to commence tonight.

Bakugo snaps out of his sombre daze as he reaches the doors to his chamberlains. He fixes himself, coughs a little, before the doors open and he’s now striding out into the hallway. 

Two handmaids are waiting outside his chambers on cue, guiding him to the ballroom. Bakugo glances around the normally dimmed hall, spotting the marshals line-up in armour and the walls decorated with large candles and Renaissance artifacts. He could hear the distant melodies of the orchestra, currently playing some melodramatic composition. Amidst the lively energy of the hall, Bakugo thought that these attributes only made the area more inhumane.

Bakugo soon enters the top of the stairway, where he adjusts himself as he sits on his throne. He doesn’t even get a few seconds to himself and the guests are already flooding into the ballroom, producing a discord between the music and the chatters. 

“Just great.” he grumbles to himself, resting his chin atop a fisted hand.

_

“For the stead of my parents and the kingdom.” you remind yourself.

You too were sitting in front of your vanity mirror, questioning yourself of your affairs. 

You stare into the mirror long and hard. The dress you were currently wearing is the embodiment of an icy blue oasis. The crystal embroidery embellished on the outermost tulle of the skirt was your definition of a wintery wonderland. The rest of your body was touched up with matching accessories too: diamond earrings, silk gloves and silver hair ornaments. Everything about your outfit shone under the moonlight, but you didn’t, you merely blended in with the dark. Especially with the expression you were holding, no one was going to see you as a ‘princess’.

The reason for your morose mien was your parents, who weren’t attending the ball alongside you as they were busied with engagements arranged overseas.

The only thing they left behind for you was the invitation card, and a letter explicitly telling you to the murder the king. 

At the time you read the letter, you were shocked at how your parents could possibly craft up an assassination plot with such detail. You weren’t oblivious to your parents being megalomaniacs; it was why they were away most of the time, focus directed towards any other royalty overseas rather than their own daughter back at home. 

Another reason why they never really bothered with you was because you were a daughter. Although you were an only child, you understood that society’s misogynistic ways definitely influenced their lack of attention towards you.

It's not like you and your family had a bad relationship but you weren’t exactly close either, therefore you didn’t have enough memories to form any opinions on them. Well that is up until now, when the confidential letter telling you the kill the king ceaselessly echoes through your mind. 

Brazen of you, but you wanted to get some of your family’s attention for once. In a sense, you inherited their selfishness. 

You temporarily shake off your thoughts, and with the minimal amount of dignity left in you, tread along to where your chauffeur was, waiting to escort you to the plaza - the location of the castle. 

Inside the privacy of your cart, the thoughts of how the assassination will go runs through your mind as you fiddle nervously on the holster underneath your dress.

You just hope you’ll manage to come out in one piece.

_

The moment you make your ‘grand’ entrance at the ball, strangers are already gushing at you as a peculiar redhead announces your status. 

You realise that this was probably your first official appearance in public as your parents never let you out, contradicting their own actions. 

You waste no time to ask around for the location of the lavatories. Luckily, the same redhead fills you in on the information you need, and you manage to make a quick escape to the toilets. 

You shut the doors behind you, puffing in pure relief. You were never good with crowds since you haven’t even been outside after all, so the comfort of this cloistered space warms you a little. 

Anyway, you’re here to collect yourself before you even dare to think about killing anyone.  

It takes you a while to calm your breathing as the plan continues to play through your mind for what feels like an eternity. Killing really is all that disturbing.

When you finally muster up enough courage, you step out of the lavatory with undeveloped confidence. Flushing, you look down at your feet as you attempt to make your way back into the ballroom, not even noticing the man standing straight ahead. You stumble into him ungraciously, earning you a merited knock on the head.

“Ouch.” you wince in pain. 

Your eyes drift up to meet with a prepossessing blonde who gazes down at you with an amused guise. He was dressed in haute couture, a form-fitting navy suit pinned with the golden emblem of the Bakugo’s: a griffin.

Without a second glance, you instantly note that he’s the king. 

“Careful, Princess of Agathinos.” he alerts, his voice suiting as the most soothing cord of notes you’ve heard pour out of a mouth in a while.  

How did he recognise you?

“You dropped something, princess.” Stupefied, you watch in awe as he bends down to pick up your possession. 

Moments later, you finally knock yourself out to check what’s fallen off your outfit. In vain, you find all your accessories precisely in their designated locations.

Wait.

“A dagger?” he taunts, raising a brow in your way, “Mind explaining why you need this in a clearly guarded place?”

“My King, I-”

“Don’t have anything to defend yourself with?” Your eyes widen at his accurate observation.

Unnerved, you flee from his light grasp and begin pacing in the opposite direction witlessly.

“Running away from me in my premises. How fatuous.” he chuckles to himself, inspecting the dagger that played in his hands.

_

You dash tirelessly past the postern and into what appears to be a garden. You don’t give a second thought as you bolt through a vineyard, the chiffon fabric tufting together under the remiss handling of your silk gloves. 

Reaching the mouth of an inviting forest, you feel a pair of arms repelling you from going any further. Your eyes widen once more, not being able to tell if you were gratified or terrified, or a genuine mixture of both. 

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you.” the flattery music blows into your ear.

Absent from warnings, two strong arms spin your waist around to engage you with a  handsome physique under the moonlight. You shudder at the enchanting sight of the king. 

If he’s run all the way here for you unaccompanied, it is only alright for you to assume that he doesn’t care about the incident back there.

He seems to be more interested in you, like you are with him.

“Please don’t run, princess. I’m not the beast that everyone deems me to be.”

You show no apparent reaction to his comment, still fazed.

“Don’t be afraid.” he adds, sounding ever so sincere. 

“Oh, I won’t.” you promise. It was the only thing you could say after being completely infatuated by him.

“If you’re saying that on account of me releasing you, then you’re wrong, princess.”

“I mean it, your majesty.” you clarify challengingly.

He hums, palpably entertained, “Will you allow me to try something?”

Was the king seriously asking you for permission even after he knew you were a threat?

Oh lord.

“S-sure.” you stutter, making a downright fool out of yourself.

“Well then, forgive me for my bold deed.”

Before you could even say anything, you feel the sensation of his soft lips pressing against yours, juxtaposing to his unyielding image beneath the moonlight. It sent butterflies fluttering down your back impetuously.

Slowly pulling away for air, a silence hovers above the both of you, utterly enraptured by each other.

“Bewitching.” he comments as he leans in for another kiss. This time you lid your eyes, prepared to devote yourself to your king, Bakugo Katsuki.

[ironhusband]

day 1

Wanda returned the next day. She didn't expect the government to still stay after her indimadating display of power, especially since she doubted that spineless director would stick around after having twenty guns pointed at him, but she needed to check anyway. No one could hurt her family and if there was a threat, she was going to eliminate it.

Wanda looked out at the view outside of Westview, satisfied to see the tents and equipment were cleaned out. She smirked, happy to see motherhood hasn't made people any less scared of her (weird how she once didn't want for people to fear her. It was clearly an advantage to get what she wanted). Wanda scanned the horizon, checking to see if SWORD was simply hiding away.

She paused as she saw a small tent in the far distance.

Cautious, Wanda decided to see what it was. It could be an innocent camper, and she had to be careful not to reveal herself. But it could also be one of them, and she had to make sure her home was protected.

She paused when she found Monica Rambeau, swaddled up in a thin blanket and eating cereal, watching the credits roll on their show.

The poor girl startled when she looked up and found her, immediately scrambling for her gun.

Wanda cocked her head to the side, smiling teasingly. "An ally, huh?" she said, in the thick sokovian accent.

Rambeau carefully lowered her gun, seeming a bit ashamed at her own hypocrisy. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Are you alone?" Wanda cut to the chase.

Rambeau spread her arms as if to show her, "you tell me."

Wamda looked around, looked at Rambeau's belongings. She could spot a phone among her things but no walkie talkies, or flies, or bugs. Nothing that seemed like there were people with her, just a little further away. Wanda frowned, "they left you alone to die?"

"No," Rambeau said, gently, "I left them."

Wanda stopped scanning their surroundings, looking at Rambeau’s honest, pleading eyes.

Wanda looked away from the gaze of her betrayer, "I threatened to kill whoever stayed."

Rambeau raised her chin in challenge, "do it then."

Wanda couldn't understand this. Rambeau seemed so... confident. At ease about the idea of being killed. Wanda was used to people fearing her. She could kill people, if she wanted to, and everyone knew that. But Rambeau.... Rambeau almost seemed like she didn't believe Wanda was going to kill her.

She didn't summon the red smoke.

Wanda scoffed, "leave."

day 3

Wanda held herself back from returning for a whole day. She figured Rambeau was stubborn, and coming back will only egg her further. Not returning the next day will convince her that whatever she thought she was doing was a dead end.

When Wanda returned on the third day, Monica was still in the same position Wanda found her at first.

"Hey," Rambeau lifted her eyes to Wanda, this time completely calm, "great episode today."

"I could kill you, you know," Wanda threatened once again.

"Oh, I know." Rambeau was eating stew this time. She offered her some off the hot plate, "want some?"

Wanda rolled her eyes and walked away.

day 5

"Why won't you leave?" Wanda asked, frustrated.

Rambeau was unbothered, "why won't you make me?"

day 8

"How are the twins?" Rambeau asked on her next visit.

Wanda nodded towards the TV, "didn’t you watch the show?"

"Wanda, as much as I love TV, it can't tell you people's emotions," Monica said and turned off the TV, fully turning towards her, "it's why books are better."

Wanda didn't answer her question, but said, "maybe we'll turn the show into a book then."

"Wandavision: Now In Pages."

Wanda struggled with her smile.

day 13

"You know, for someone who seems to like books more than television, you sure watch TV a lot."

Monica looked up from the credits roll, surprised at Wanda’s friendly snipe, "I do read."

Wanda nodded at Monica's belongings, “no books around.”

Monica dug up a notebook from the blankets on the ground, "I read my notes."

Wanda glanced at the pages Monica was flipping through, "notes of the show?"

Monica nodded.

"But why? You can't do the research like with SWORD."

Monica shrugged, "it's fun to guess what can happen. I have theories to share with the forums.”

Wanda was too amused to notice that Monica could have been using a codename.

day 17

“Are you happy?” Monica asked her once.

It isn’t the first time she asked a question like this. Monica didn’t outright ask her to leave Westview, but it seemed to be her angle with all this.

Wanda tried not to think of her headache from keeping everything running smoothly inside the town and the fight she had with Vision that Monica must have seen, “of course.”

Monica hummed, “then why do you keep coming here?”

Wanda left in her fury.

day 20

“Why won’t you leave?” Wanda asked, more furious in her next visit.

“Why won’t you?” Monica shot right back.

Wanda left, confused as to why she didn’t kill Monica at the spot.

day 23

“I need a break from the kids,” Wanda explained, “the show any good?”

Monica smiled and rewinded the episode for her.

day 27

Wanda has been coming around every day for the past four days. Wanda always explained it away and Monica never called bullshit on her reasons. She seemed to learn her lesson with crossing boundaries.

“I like coming here,” Wanda explained that day.

Monica beamed so wide, Wanda was sure she could outshine the sun.

day 33

“Why won’t you leave?”

It’s been a while since Wanda last asked her that. Usually she asked every other visit. But this time… Wanda realized how small this life must be for Monica. In her small tent, watching the show, writing notes in her notebook, theorizing based on her writings, eating canned goods, and sleeping on those thin blankets. She didn’t know what was there for Monica in this life.

Monica was more quiet this time when she answered, “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

In her surprise, this was the first time Wanda sat down next to Monica.

day 36

“Viz won’t speak to me,” Wanda told her one day.

Monica placed her food on the ground, “yeah, I saw.”

“This was supposed to be everything I wanted,” Wanda whispered, brokenly, and tried to keep the tears at bay.

Monica, unhesitatingly, wrapped her arm around Wanda’s shoulders, “then why aren’t you leaving?”

Wanda found herself leaning into the touch, “same reason you aren’t.”

day 37

This time, Monica wasn’t watching the episode ending but was rewinding to a specific scene.

‘My parents died when I was ten,’ the Wanda on screen said.

Wanda looked away from the hurtful scene. It was different saying the words and watching herself say them. “Why are you watching this?” her tone unnecessarily defensive.

Monica didn’t look away from the screen, “my parents are dead too.”

day 40

“You could come to Westview,” Wanda offered her once, “I could give you whatever you want.”

Monica’s breath hitched with the idea. Wanda could tell she was tempted. But then, after a beat, Monica shook her head. “I can’t do that. I can’t escape to a perfect reality.”

Wanda laughed, not creully, but teasingly, “so what is this? Isn’t this escaping reality?”

Monica shrugged, “I guess so. But watching TV, eating bad food, talking to a friend... Not different from how normal people grieve.”

Wanda rose from her seat, enraged. Her eyes didn’t start glowing red but her hand was pointing at her accusingly, “I am normal.”

In her rage, in her storming off, Wanda didn’t realize Monica called her a friend.

day 44

When Wanda came the next time. She didn’t speak at first. She just sat down next to Monica, wordlessly. Monica rewinded the episode for her, but Wanda didn’t watch it. She watched Monica instead. Monica wasn’t bothered by the stare, but she was wondering what Wanda was finding there.

“Can you show me how to be normal?” Wanda requested, eyes now on the show, where Wanda was trying to keep her family together.

Monica smiled and turned towards her, looking away from the show, “I love how you think I’m normal, Scarlet.” She tilted Wanda’s head so they were staring into each other’s eyes, “but I’ll show you anything you want.”

Monica leaned forward and kissed Wanda, hands going slowly from her chin up to her soft, soft hair.

Wanda froze for a moment. She froze for a moment, and then- then she sank into it, hands gripping at the fabric at Monica’s hips.

It couldn’t have been more than ten seconds (but it felt like forever) when Wanda pulled away, shoved Monica away and told her, “stop. Stop, this is a mistake.”

Monica was speechless when she watched Wanda, a strangely calm seeing Wanda, walk away.

day 45

Wanda didn’t come the next day. Monica didn’t expect her to. She knew she screwed up with the kiss. She just wished she’d left it at her words instead of her actions.

On the 45th day the TV shut off. Monica frowned, smacking the side of the screen, trying to jerk it back to life. The TV didn’t turn back on, no matter how hard she tried.

But then she heard a sound.

When she looked up it was to the forcefield collapsing, throwing her back twenty meters.

[nurseofren]

Keeping Your Promise - Chapter 29 (NSFW-lite)

Read on AO3 | Read on Wattpad

Read chapter twenty-eight (NSFW)

Title: ASSISTANCE REQUIRED

Words: 5.6k

Summary: I am very uncomfortable with the vibe we have created in the studio Infirmary today...

Warnings: mentions of abuse, suicide

ST Rambles: So... I graduated nursing school. And will be taking my licensure exam next month and start working as well...

In my time away, other than the above mentioned accomplishments, I've been reading a lot of books and even went to see an internet friend just last weekend. Life got insane and I needed to focus on school, and I do appreciate the patience and enthusiasm.

I hope this was worth the wait. I hope the next part will be even more so ;)

[MASTERLIST] || BANNER // @elmidol

Fucking, fuck!

“I know in academy you were told to pierce the skin at a forty-five-degree angle, but it works a lot better if you-,”

“Go in at a fifteen-degree-angle, go parallel to the skin. I know,” you huffed, embarrassment burning your skin. “That’s not the issue. I do that. The issue is-,”

“That is the issue,” Silver corrected, interrupted. Your preceptor-for-all-intents-and-purposes crossed her arms and stared at you with hard, unyielding eyes. “You won’t listen to me,” she spat. “You are the issue.”

Calliope Silvren, or “Silver”, as she’d informed you upon meeting, was everything you were supposed to be. And you hated her for that fact, hated her for that and so much more.

She was intelligent and concise and respected, she knew everything and made sure you were aware that you didn’t. During the past eleven hours, not with so many words, Silver had made it clear that you were never supposed to be here to begin with, that hers was the name in the original provider candidate pool and you were nothing but a fluke, a nobody, nothing.

Compared to Silver, compared to Calliope fucking Silvren, who’d graduated valedictorian, who had star-white hair and golden skin, whose eyes were a harsh sea of frozen cerulean, whose legs were long and lips were full and head was high and posture was perfect – compared to the program’s prototype? What were you other than a fluke? A whim? Compared to her, how were you anything more than the fascination you’d been labeled as from the very start?

As you stared up at her, her height almost that of Kylo’s, and felt the wrath of that frozen sea that resided behind her glare, you couldn’t speak. Every word of defense left you, and your mouth dried and your chest hollowed. Because her words not only rippled through your head but echoed through the unit’s halls so every nurse and physician and maintenance worker had heard them. Heard her and how superior she was, heard how incompetent you were.

Silver knew what she’d done, could feel the eyes of her coworkers gawking at her scolding; you knew by the smallest quirk to her lip, the slightest tick in her platinum brow. She had you trapped and on display, and all you could do was stand here and take it. The Board was watching, and so was Hux – CB-7070 always shadowing ten paces behind – you had no choice but to remain neutral-faced and silent.

She spoke your name and it was beautiful, a voice like sugar even when it slithered and bit like venom, “We’ll pick up tomorrow. If you absolutely need me, I’ll be organizing my report sheets for the oncoming shift.” When no one was looking anymore, her eyes narrowed and she leaned in. “Busy yourself for the next hour.” A sneer slipped past the benevolent mask she wore. “Don’t need me.”

With a steel spine, she whipped past you, stalking off toward her task, the white of her hair streaking from your periphery. And there you were, clutching an IV starter kit – missing the needle, much like you’d missed the vein – trying your hardest to keep from showing any emotion whatsoever. Less people were gawking now that Silver had left, but you still felt eyes on you. Whatever lay in those lingering stares, pity or humor or apathy, it all burned you, reminded you how temporary you were. Not only in this place – the “Infirmary” as the staff referred to it – but in your life, as well.

Smoothing the skirt of your uniform, you cleared your throat and turned to do as you were instructed, catching CB-7070’s visor for a second before peering around the unit. She faced you, and even though you couldn’t see her face, you knew she may be the only one around who was on your side. The white of her helmet glinted as she gave a small nod in your periphery. Yeah, she wasn’t so bad, no matter who she’d report to the second you got back to the Consulate.

The Infirmary was a large unit, and, unlike any place you’d practiced in since graduation, it was efficiently staffed and stocked. Safe nurse-to-patient ratios, sufficient supplies, and an allocated provider available for any emergent orders or treatments. It was a surreal representation of the “hospital utopia” you’d heard of all throughout school.

But, aside from its apparent perfection, some characteristics of the unit confused you, but you didn’t ask about it because no one else seemed to think it was weird, and Silver didn’t exactly foster a great learning environment.

What struck you first was the Infirmary’s construction and layout. It was all glass, floor to ceiling windows that offered full views of each patient in their respective rooms. You’d watched the sun dance across the sky as the day went on, nothing hindering you from the beautiful view of the sea beyond the fanned-out city below. The only thing that offered a semblance of privacy for each patient was the wall-spanning mirror positioned in front of their beds. None of them saw each other, but it was still odd that there seemed to be no concern towards the errant lapse in privacy policy the design created.

At the center was the nurses’ station, large and circular, a skylight fixed right above. The staff used the lack of patient privacy to their advantage, peering above the counter to make sure their assignments were doing alright. Their assignments who were all under the age of twenty. Some much younger, just grasping at adolescence, others kissing young adulthood – those seemed much worse off, something darker rimmed their eyes, ghosted behind the lifeless face all of them wore.

It was a strange environment to be in, even more so due to how vague the progress notes were, history and physicals extremely short and never too in depth, especially when it concerned anything related to the patients’ family history or living situations. Something seemed off, something that tugged at you and made you yearn to break past the flat affect each patient met you with.

So many were here for a few hours and then gone the next, a constant influx of admissions and discharges. But, so strangely, there was never any patient education given, never any parents or guardians for the younger ones to go home to. They were always escorted from the unit by two “official personnel”. And watching their faces as Silver told them they were done with treatment and could leave, it killed you to see the faintest slash of fear quiver their bottom lips.

Beyond that, beyond seeing these younglings so fearful and defenseless, what clawed at your gut the most was that none of them had a name. They had no birthdate information, no address listed, no family contacts entered or even offered. They were all in the system only by the letters “FL” followed by a code of eight numbers. The nurses would refer to them by their room numbers to make it simpler, but none of them shared your concern for the lack of identity these patients were plagued with.

Yes, something seemed off, seemed wrong here. Something waswrong here, but you feared you would be gone before you ever knew what that was.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a tray left on an isolation cart next to a door. Heeding Silver’s command, you approached it, discarding the IV kit and feeling CB-7070’s focus catch your every step. You’d passed this door frequently, never seeing anyone approach it for longer than a few seconds at a time, assuming it was a closet for extra supplies or scanning machines. But the meal card on the tray indicated differently.

This was a patient’s room. The room number matched, there were no other doors labeled with it that you could see. No staff paid you any attention as you peered around. The only one watching was your white-armored shadow standing against a pane of glass.

Shrugging to yourself, feeling you couldn’t possibly get in trouble for delivering a patient’s food, you said over your shoulder to CB-7070, “I’m taking this in. I shouldn’t be long. Don’t follow me in here.” More to yourself, you sighed, “Even if I am the only one here concerned about privacy, I’d prefer not to violate anyone’s rights on my first day.”

CB-7070 nodded. “Affirmative,” her modulator croaked.

A swipe of your new badge gained you access past the door, a whoosh of air whipping through your skirt as it closed behind you. It was pitch dark, the only light coming from a holo-chart programmed into the wall. It appeared you were in an antechamber, those that often came with isolation patients, but there was nothing indicating this patient had any infection or ailment that necessitated a gown or mask.

The air was stale, like nothing and no one had stirred it in a few days, and the only glass visible was that of a window peering into the room beyond – or, it would be peering, were there not closed blinds on the other side of it.

You saw yourself in that darkened pane, clutching the tray to yourself, the first glimpse you caught of your face since the start of shift. Truthfully, you looked awful. Hair frizzed at your temples, a sheen of oil had gathered on your forehead, and exhaustion was evident in the puffy bags beneath your eyes.

But it was an earned appearance, no matter what Silver wanted you and everyone else to believe. Today you did your best and you interpreted and communicated abnormal findings, you assessed every patient without bias and documented everything you did. There were things you were unsure of, not having performed many skills while being assigned to Kylo, but you always asked for help, even though you realized it would be met with disgruntled aggravation after the first few times.

You had done everything right, understanding the consequences if you didn’t. As far as you were concerned, and even as much doubt as she’s caused you in the singular day you’ve known her, Silver was the problem. Not you.

And, not for nothing, the IV you missed earlier… not entirely your fault.

Kylo Ren picked the wrong day to Force-edge you. Or maybe it was you who really initiated the torture, but he’d been the one to follow through with his threat. Every hour had been memorable.

The first three had luckily occurred when you were away from patients but did earn you a few wary glances from the unit staff, your jaw set firm as you gave them a reassuring nod, hoping they couldn’t see how badly you were shaking as your cunt spasmed toward orgasm, but never got there.

There was something vicious in the rate at which he was forcing you toward the edge. Even though you couldn’t see or hear him, you felt like he was tormenting you with spite in mind rather than pleasure, like something you’d said or thought had angered him.

You didn’t have much time to consider that, though, as the hours went on and you’d begged the stars that the slick slipping from your center wouldn’t go past the hem of your dress. A few times you’d cursed the damned uniform, but quickly turned to cursing Kylo Ren for the ever-so-slightly too high hem. It’d surprised you that he never acted on those silent curses aimed at him, that it hadn’t earn you another hour riding the edge of pleasure while choking down the gasps and moans he’d surely intended to draw from you.

During lunch, you’d found a corner and ate alone, speaking to the wall and scorning Kylo under your breath, spitting empty threats, telling him to stop, to slow down. When that hadn’t worked and the Force picked up in pattern and pressure, nudging your clit just right, your hands had clamped around a plastic fork as you held on for dear life. He was nowhere near you and you’d almost cum four times over the course of your twenty-five-minute break. At that point, you’d considered begging him to let you cum, but part of you knew that would only lengthen his schemes.

Other times during shift, when Silver was rolling her eyes when you’d asked for her help, you’d felt the light, teasing lance of the Force trail along your neck. When you were priming tubing for a new admission, you’d felt the strange, unseen presence caress your ear like Kylo’s tongue might. And one hour, right after the previous had left you wondering if you’d be able to stand the next time you needed to – that hour where you’d traded your curses for pleading, traded the harshness you were spitting for the simple, hushed breaths you needed to outlast the never-ending torrent of pleasure he kept surging through you – the Force was kinder, something sentimental in the way it’d weighted your body like Kylo would, draped itself along your shoulders as sweat dried on your brow and the shaking of your legs settled.

A delicate, “Thank you,” had breathed over your lips when the Force – when Kylo’s teasing – seemed it would let up for the remainder of your shift.

But, of course, that peace had been temporary, a strategy to lapse your guard, to make you vulnerable when you’d most needed a clear mind and a steady hand. It had started with the gentle lulls you’d been left with, a stroking tendril swift over the column of your neck, the tourniquet tight to the patient’s arm as you poked their forearm in search of a vein. And when you informed Silver you’d found one, the Force deftly switched its attention to your pussy.

Silver had been scrutinizing you before, but when your shaking hand and short, shallow breaths appeared as fear instead of the pleasure they were born from, her brow had narrowed that much more. When you’d anchored the vein and aligned the needle – at her all-important fifteen-degree angle – your hand had shifted, jumped as your thighs tightened and you fought to trap a moan in your throat. It was an accident that the needle pierced the patient – and, worse, through the vein – at a greater angle, and it wrought you with emotion. Guilt for hurting the patient, shame for screwing up under Silver’s icy appraisal, and unyielding anger for Kylo Ren for causing your fuck up and not being able to explain that.

So here you were, taking the brunt of criticism and punishment for a mistake you wouldn’t have made had it not been for Kylo Ren, and studying your reflection in the scant light offered from the holo-chart of a patient you hadn’t known existed up until three minutes ago.

“Kylo,” you breathed, reaching for the second badge-scanner, “I can’t look bad here. The Board is watching. Hux is watching.” You glimpsed the radar fastened to your wrist, directing your tired eyes at Kylo’s indicator like he could feel your attention on him. “Give me this last hour and let me be good. Let me do well. Let me prove that I can to everyone who believes otherwise.”

A few seconds passed by as you waited for a reaction. Nothing came. The Force remained absent from you, and your shoulders dropped in relief. With a final glance at the chart, noting the patient’s identifier and checking it against the meal ticket, you swiped your badge and the entrance rushed open.

Darkness met you once more, but this darkness was heavier somehow. Not in the way untouched rooms are usually heavy – not with dust or grime – but a heaviness that clutched at your heart. It pressed into you, taunted you even as you remained a step outside the threshold. It was only shadows, unmoving and unremarkable darkness, but it clawed at you. It writhed at your feet and stirred your heart.

This was the darkness that lived behind each of those younglings’ eyes, but here it was concentrated, like this was the very source of it. Like this was its home.

“Hello?” you croaked, still not daring to pass into the shadow-thick room.

No answer, not even a stir. Nothing but that unyielding darkness.

You cleared your throat. “I, um, I have your dinner.” You took a small step forward. “Sorry for the wait… if there was one.”

More of the same. More of nothing.

A light switch entered your periphery with your next step, and you reached for it, but before you could flip it—

“If I wanted it on, do you think I’d be sitting in here like this?”

The voice was weak, small, but not that of a child. Not even that of an ill person, or an elderly one. It was male, though. Boyish, but not a boy’s. Somehow, the voice was young and old at the same time, as if the boy had lived long years already, and those years had worn him down.

The voice was a singular stream against the dark’s thick, silent wrath, and it was hollow, empty like the shadows before you should be. As the question ended, you found that it wasn’t bitterness or pain that lived in its tone, but rather a broken apathy, like whoever this was had cared and fought for so long but had ultimately lost in the end.

“Not that anyone here is really concerned about what I want,” came the voice again, an edge weighting its words.

Finally, you stepped completely into the room. You had to swallow a gasp when the entrance at your back locked shut. The tray jostled in your arms, but you succeeded at remaining upright.

With a sugary tone, you asked, “How will you eat if you can’t see your food?”

A huffed laugh, tired and bitter. “You should work on that nurse voice. Not very convincing.” A long, deep breath filled a few otherwise silent moments. “Send that tray back. Give it to someone who wants it.”

Without your “nurse voice”, you said, “Why did you order it—”

“—I didn’t. I never do. I’m being kept here, why would I want to sustain myself to make my stay that much longer?”

“Kept?” you whispered.

The longer you stood in place, the more your eyes adjusted. The room was still suffocated by the swamp of darkness, but there was some light after all. Scant, but there, a beam of the setting sun speared the room, and from what you had begun to make out of the body in front of you – a small form curled in the center of a bed – you found he was staring out of the broken blinds from which it came, like he was looking at something. Looking forsomething.

“Kept. Held prisoner. Restrained but not restrained because thatwould make this whole operation illegal, right? Whatever way you want to put it, I’ve made it obvious I don’t want to be here.” A long pause and a sad sigh. “Starvation is a better fate than most here, anyway.”

The more he spoke, the clearer it became that his voice wasn’t hollow, but burning with quiet fury. For what, you weren’t sure, but you realized this was the first patient who had spoken all day. And his tone, his words, only solidified the fact that there was something very, very wrong going on.

You walked closer to him, past the foot of his bed until you saw where the small slant of light was focused, what he continued to brokenly fawn over.

“What are you looking at?” you asked, leaning down so you could match your view with his.

He turned his head from the mostly covered window, the creak of light only possible through a bend in the blinds, and he looked at you, a flash of realization spreading through his features before he reined his expression into a void of dull emotion.

He stared at you as you stared at him, appraising you just the same. He was young, but it appeared as though his youth had been leeched from him. Long dark brunette curls framed his face and teased his shoulders, heavy with oil inherent of unkemptness. An immense sadness lived in the downturned state of his mouth, a contrasting anger set in the crease of his brow. And when you finally found his eyes, you restrained a shiver, as the deep hazel burned with that cleave of sun and struck you with the anvil of pain and desperation that lived in them.

He wasn’t alarmed at your proximity but confused. With a shaky voice, and something of a weak sneer biting at his mouth, he said, “You’re a sick, brutal cunt, you know that?”

“What? What do you—”

“What am I looking at? Do not patronize me!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Are you stupid or just cruel?”

“I’m not either, I—”

“You’re both!”

“I’m temporary! I don’t work here! I’ve been here for one shift! I’ve been on this planet for one day!”

Without missing a beat, but less heated and more restrained, the boy said, “Just stupid then.”

He continued to glare at you, but your eyes wandered back to the break in the blinds, and with narrowed eyes you found something that resembled a racing track. It was far out in the distance, but you knew that was what he had been focused on, sure of it by the way his demeanor shifted when you looked back down at him.

“Help me understand, then, if I am so stupid,” you whispered.

“You aren’t any different from the others, no matter if you’re temporary or not. Whatever that means, anyway.” The boy’s jaw set so firm you swore you heard it crack. “You don’t want to understand. If you did, if anyone cared so much, the Infirmary wouldn’t exist.”

“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Help me?” the boy barked. He considered you for a moment, sun and shadow warring across the hollows of his cheeks as he did. Those pained eyes narrowed a fraction. “Who are you? What does temporary mean?”

You leaned away from him, straightening your posture and setting his tray on a counter off to the side. You offered your name, just the first, and dragged an absent-minded finger over the embroidery of your uniform. “Temporary means…”

Perhaps it was his already non-existent trust in you, but you did not think that informing him of the real reason you were here – telling him that your license and life were on the line and you were here so the Board of Physicians would have ease in their decision to end your life or not – would do much to foster his confidence in you, you took a second to frame it in a way that would appeal to him.

Clearing your throat, you kept his stare and said, “Temporary means that I’m here for less than two weeks, and I have no loyalties to any staff here. Temporary means that I do care so much, and I do want to help because temporary also means that I’ve seen some weird shit today, and I don’t understand it.” The boy’s brows raised for a fragmented second, but you knew you’d gained at least a small portion of his respect, so you continued.

With a lowered voice and an unbreakable stare, you said, “Temporary means that I am on your side, and if you let me, if you help me to understand what is going on, I will help you as best as I can.”

The boy shifted, ringing a hand around his opposite wrist, toying with the identification band secured there. He never stopped looking into your eyes, and you knew he was searching for deceit, but the longer he stared, the more he came up short.

You offered him your hand, observing how he flinched away from it, but keeping it extended as he considered it for another few moments.

“I told you who I am. Will you tell me who you are?”

It seemed like the darkness that surrounded you was watching with bated breath, watching in awe as the boy’s gaze remained on your extended hand.

He swallowed, and ever so slowly, with a hesitation that struck through your heart, he lifted his hand and clasped it around yours. The light from the broken blinds coiled around your matched hands, and for the first time today, you felt hopeful. And no matter how dim and breathless it was, a flicker of that same hopefulness played through his eyes.

“I…” the boy hesitated, so you squeezed his hand and offered a reassuring nod. His shoulders relaxed with his next breath. “I am Quynnland. With a ‘Y’.”

“Quynnland,” you parroted, trying it out and letting his hand go. “Do you have any nicknames? Like Quynn? Quynnie?”

“No one calls me Quynnie!” he roared. “Nobody calls me that except…” Quynnland shifted in bed, away from you, turning his face back toward that racing track. His bottom lip quivered, and he appeared as if you’d just lashed him with molten plasma.

“Quynnland,” you soothed, “nobody calls you that except who?”

He remained quiet, but he shuddered, and you saw the light glint off a stream that found its way down the slate of his cheek.

“I want to understand. I want to help you.” You swallowed against your throat, which had become markedly thicker since you last spoke. “Please, help me help you.”

Quynnland’s chin rose, his eyes fell shut, and he balled his hands into tight fists. He wasn’t angry, but in pain, and you knew from the sight of how broken he was that he’d been in pain for a long time now. Perhaps, it seemed, he had never known a day without it.

Just when you were about to speak, Quynnland coughed against a sob and whispered, “They won’t let me see him. He’s there on his own. He’s never been alone for this long.” A tight breath whipped into his chest. “They’re keeping me here so I age out. They’re keeping me away from him.”

“Who is he? What are you aging out of?” The more he offered, the more questions you thought of.

“I almost got us out this time,” he whispered. “I almost saved us both, but they caught me and dragged me away from him. He’s young, but that never stopped them before.” A wheeze of pain slipped from Quynnland’s lips. “They probably broke him just enough so he could still work.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you kept quiet.

After what seemed like an eternity, Quynnland spoke again. “My brother. That’s who gets to call me ‘Quynnie’. That’s who I tried to save, and that’s who is suffering because I failed.” He pushed an aggravated sound from his lungs. “The only way you can help me, is if you help him.”

“How do I do that?” you asked, watching as his fists relaxed at his sides.

Quynnland opened his eyes and bore the full weight of their pain into yours. He took a long breath and squared his jaw. “You get him away from the wardens, and then you get him out.”

“Where is he?” you asked, needing to know what that racing track he kept glancing toward was.

He went to answer, but a rush of motion sounded beyond his door, and just as quickly, the entrance to his room shot open. Quynnland ducked his head and balled his fists, and you turned to see that it was Silver who stood in his doorway. She wore an unfamiliar face, one of shock and terror, and you went to speak, but her hand whipped out and signaled that you would notbe saying a word until you left this room.

She stared at Quynnland a moment longer, surveying him like she’d never seen him before. “Eat your dinner. I won’t have you starving to death under my license, not now that this will be your last stay here.” Silver more so talked at him rather than directly to him, and her tone was hard and full of disgust.

It gave you another reason to hate her.

You wanted to reach out and take Quynnland’s hand, but Silver snapped at you before you could. “You,” she sneered. “Out. Now.”

The ice behind her eyes had seeped to her tongue, and her words froze the very blood in your veins. She watched you as you stepped around her and into the antechamber, and you glanced the final withering, aghast glare she shot at Quynnland as you did.

When you reached toward the door that opened to the hall, Silver caught your wrist just before your badge met it. She was eerily silent for a moment, and you swore she was practically shaking with rage, but then she settled herself and stared down at you with such concentrated antagonization that it knocked the breath right from your lungs.

“What made you think you could go into this room? I never went near this room with you today. Why would you be allowed to enter it alone?” She was seething, but she hid it behind something of a gnarled smile.

“There was a tray just sitting outside, unattended to. I figured I would find something to do and deliver it to the patient. No harm done.”

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes on you. “Are you aware what this patient is here for?” she asked sweetly, but it came off as clear condescension.

Silver waited for you to answer, but you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction she wanted from humiliating you again. So you remained silent, and she sneered at you. “Exactly what I thought. So why would you interact with a patient you know nothing about? And did the double security not tip you off that you were somewhere you shouldn’t be?”

“Look, Silver,” you huffed, enjoying the disgust that smeared across her features as you said her name, “I saw a tray. I had nothing better to do. My badge had access to the room. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

She cast you an undying glare, and her eye twitched when she gave you a once-over. “This patient willfully tried to kill himself and his brother last week. Did he tell you that?”

Your heart blackened, and your ears rang with silence as she let her words sink in.

Silver was pleased with your shocked silence. She went on. “Oh, and did he tell you just how many times he’s tried to do this exact thing in the past?” You remained wordless, feeling betrayed for reasons you couldn’t understand. “No? Not even a guess? Well, he’s a unit regular, if that gives any indication.”

She waited again and was once more elated to be met with silence. “It’s the same story every time. The wardens say he takes his kid brother to the shore and plans on swimming out to the Falls and either drowning to death or dying from impact.”

You swallowed in vain, mouth drier than sand. A part of your knew you didn’t want the answer, but you still asked, “How old… how old is his brother?”

A sick, deathly smile creaked across her perfect face. “Of course, we don’t know exactly, but previous scans estimate that he’s no older than seven.”

Seven. A child. Quynnland had tried to kill his brother… had tried to kill himself and his kid brother…

“Next time, don’t poke around business you don’t understand,” Silver cut your panic short, her frigid tone icing your skin with gooseflesh. “Your shift is up.”

She shoved your shoulder on her way past, but before she could activate the door the room filled with bright red light, and a shrill alarm screamed through the ruby darkness.

It was your watch.

Endless, screeching notes sounded from your wrist. Your stomach dropped, and you couldn’t think for a moment, completely thrown back to that last hour on Starkiller Base.

Kylo was in trouble. Kylo was hurt. Kylo needed you and you weren’t there.

When you lifted your arm as your heart sank through the floor and you read the continuous scrawling message, your feet pounded the ground and carried you away from the unit to wherever he was, wherever your radar was guiding you.

All you could think of was him lying under you, his blood slipping along your skin, and his still, comatose body. And as you made your way to him, not seeing the world around you, hardly aware of CB-7070’s footfalls booming behind you, you kept rereading the message that raced along your watch’s screen, and as you turned corner after corner and fled down hundreds of steps and staircases, the simple, abbreviated message taunted you with the past.

ASSISTANCE REQUIRED ASSISTANCE REQUIRED ASSISTANCE REQUIRED

As it scrawled endlessly across the small screen, all you could think of was how this felt too familiar to the day Starkiller exploded. And the only thought that remained, the only one out of the thousand that flooded back from that day, was that you would fight for the future you’d realized you wanted then.

Only now did you admit the full truth of that thought: the only future you wanted was one where you could be with Kylo. The only future worth having, you realized, was the one where you would spend it with him.

So you ran toward your future. Just as you had run that day not so long ago, you ran toward Kylo Ren.

[libsterslobsters]

The Wanton Song

Summary: How do you broach the topic of sex with the 90-something super soldier you've found yourself dating? That's the reader's question. Luckily, she and Bucky are no strangers to awkward conversations...

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions and understands all languages)

Warnings: SMUT, tiny bit of angst, lotsa fluff, maybe some past dub!con if you squint

Author's note: Wow... here I am posting smut on the internet. Never thought that would happen. Tmi, but I'm married, so I have a good amount of sex 🙀 and I actually had a great first time, but some people don't, and that's what I tried to represent. That, and CONSENT!!!! Consent is sexy, y'all. Safe, sane and consensual all day every day.

As always, the reader's name isn't stated so that you can read as a self insert, but I've written so much at this point that I refer to the Reader as Violet in my own mind.

*************************************************

 Life has been going swimmingly these past few months. Better than ever before in fact, or at the very least, better than in a long time. She’s still a fugitive, living life looking over her shoulder, but now she has a steady job, a steady paycheck, and oh yeah, a steady boyfriend. Those three things have never aligned for her before (especially the last one). Overall, she’s pretty happy. But, because she’s her, there’s still a question niggling at the back of her mind.

 The transition from “you’re my only friend” to “we’re together now” went smoothly, helped in part by the fact that Barnes had been at that particular juncture the whole time. From the outside looking in, the only major changes have been the addition of those three simple but very key words and an upping the anti in the cuddles department.

 Speaking of cuddles, that’s a very mild term for what’s going on these days. It starts out innocent enough. The usual location is on the couch at one or the other’s apartment. There hadn’t been much distance between them since that first time where they ended up talking more than watching the movie playing from her laptop, but now, the space is nonexistent. As a general rule, within the first ten minutes, her legs somehow end up over his lap or in some way intertwined with is. The intention is always to pay attention to what’s on the screen but, well, when you’re that close, it would be rude not to snuggle up. And, when the other person looks that damn kissable, it would truly be insulting not to take the plunge.

 Now, considering the angle, one of them has to lean in. Otherwise, it would be awkward. That generally determines who, somewhere from two to ten minutes later, is on top of who. Of course hands wander, and even though it’s understood that the word “no” can be employed at any time and immediately obeyed (not to mention the copious amounts of “Is this okay”’s being asked), she can’t remember a time either of them have said it.

 If she had to attach a term to what comes next, it would be ‘dry humping.’ And then… nothing. It always ends far too soon, leaving her flustered and with her heart racing. At first she thought it was because he simply didn’t want her, but, well, there’s certain physical signs that point to that not being the problem. Her next guess was that he’s simply being respectful. Well, as sweet as that is, she’s ready to get on with it. She’s only human after all, and as such, has needs. Sure, she could take care of them herself, but if she had to guess, he’s experiencing those needs too, and from what she’s heard, it’s more fun to take care of it together.

 The only issue: how the hell do you bring something like this up, especially when the person you’re bringing it up with grew up in a much more repressed era than you did? She’s been debating it for the past week, and despite having multiple visions, none of them have given her that key insight into what to do.

 Finally, she decides to just say it. They’ve made a point to be honest with each other, and it’s probably best to get it out of the way. They’re adults, after all. They can have this discussion. She’s going to come straight out with it.

 “Hey, can I ask you something? It’s kind of personal, and maybe a little uncomfortable.”

 “Sure, Doll.” The response is immediate. “Fire away.”

 Glancing up to make sure they’re not at a pivotal scene in tonight’s movie (they have a system; at his place, watch something he grew up with, at hers, something made literally anytime after 1945), she spits out the whole sentence in one breathless go. “Are we ever going to have sex?”

 It feels like a branding iron where his arm is still wrapped around her shoulder. Still, it’s comforting. At least he’s not moving away.

 “I gotta admit, that’s not the question I was expecting. What brought this on?”

 She shrugs, carefully keeping her eyes trained on the wall behind his head instead of on him.

 “Nothing in particular. Just…” is there a delicate way to put this? “...I think things are going well between us, and sometimes when we’re together… I’ve noticed that there’s a physical response.” She’s really hoping that’ll suffice, because she can’t think of a good way to say “I can feel that you’re hard when you’re on top of me”.

 “Oh.”

 Apparently, her meaning is indeed clear enough, because he removes his arm from her shoulders. She’s about to apologize (all the while mentally berating herself) when his hand closes over hers.

 “I’m sorry about that, Doll. I’ll try to stay calmer.” Wait, that’s not- “It’s just an issue guys have. Don’t think it means you have to do anything that you don’t want to, because I would never-”

 “I know you wouldn’t.” Without thinking, she cuts him off. “And I want to.” It feels like she’s sitting in a sauna, she’s so flustered from this conversation. “But only if you do, and I understand if you didn’t-”

 “No.” It’s abrupt, cutting her off. A definite answer that leaves no room for questioning. “No, I do. I just-” He clears his throat. “-I didn’t want to bring it up, in case we weren’t on the same page. “ This seems to be a recurring theme, so far. “And it’s not a must. If you change your mind-”

 It’s pure instinct. There’s no thought involved as she closes the gap between them, this time with her on top, and presses  her lips against his. The response is immediate and enthusiastic. She considers just going on, not putting a stop to things, but realization hits that, although overall she’s ready for this to happen, she’s not ready for it to happen tonight. There’s still things she needs to take care of. Most importantly, protection.

 So, gasping for breath, she pulls away. “I’m calling for a rain check, but if after that, you still think I’ll change my mind-” she pushes back her hair and forces herself to take a deep breath. “-then you may just be beyond help, Barnes.” If the chuckle is anything to judge from, she’s made her point.

_________________________________________________________________________________

 Wow. Bucky thinks to himself as he exits out of the browser tab on his phone. That’s enough internet for one day. Too much, actually. He knows that it’s the information superhighway, but good god, no one needs THAT much information. He really needs to be more specific with what he googles… or less… or just not at all.

 He’d never admit it (and really, who the hell is gonna ask him anyway), but he spent the last hour looking up how to have sex. He’s engaged in the act before, yeah, but it was seventy years ago. Plus, it used to be this huge taboo thing that you suspected was going on behind closed doors, but no one (not even the married couples) owned up to it. If you were ever found out, there were severe consequences. As a man, he didn’t have to worry as much, but if whoever the woman was had her dirty laundry aired… oh boy. She’d be a pariah, a “scarlet woman”, unfit for marriage or to even give the time of day. That led to limited encounters, and, well, it just seemed smart to brush up on what information is out there. As it turns out, people have written a lot about the fine art of love making. Unfortunately for him, most of it is absolute garbage. Some of the positions he just read about (because at that point, the article was like a train wreck; he badly wanted to look away, but he couldn’t) don’t even sound possible, much less pleasurable. He’s all for society being freer, but good grief!

 He’s halfway through a bottle of straight vodka (it won’t have any effect, but he’s hoping maybe the alcohol will travel to his brain and sanitize his eyeballs from most of the shit he just read) when his phone rings. Great. He’s always happy to talk to her, but right now… wow. It’s gonna take him some time to recover, so he hopes she doesn’t need him to say much.

 “Hey, Doll.”

 “I am so fucking pissed off right now.” That sounds promising.

 “At what?”

 “The city of Bucharest, my apartment, the landlord, whoever the fuck did the plumbing in this building! God!” She’s clearly out of breath, so it takes a minute before she can speak again. “I’m sorry, Buck. It’s just that I came home from work, and one of my neighbors told me the entire sixth floor is under a good inch, inch and a half of water.” Wait-

 “How-”

 “I don’t know. Busted pipe. It’s leaked down onto the fifth floor, so I’ve got about fifty other pissed off people for company.”

 “Jesus.” 

 She chuckles harshly. “Yeah, we could use him right about now to perform a miracle. This is a shit show, and I haven’t even told you the best part.”

 “So the spontaneous flood wasn’t the highlight of your day?”

 “I fucking wish! So, naturally, I tried to call the landlord, along with basically everyone else. Get this: since it’s after five o’clock on a Friday, he’s not gonna do anything. Told us collectively to suck it up! And of course, when there’s a leak, they have to cut the power…” He’s starting to see a pattern here.

 She sighs. “I really needed to get that off my chest. How are you?” Still slightly weirded out by the information overload, but feeling a little more steady now that he’s got a good catastrophe to concentrate on. However, that’s probably not the best answer to go with.

 “Better than you are.”

 “What, the sky isn’t falling where you are?” He chuckles.

 “No, it’s right where it’s supposed to be.”  Which reminds him… “But since it seems like you’re short a functional home, why don’t you just stay here until they sort things out?” He’s got a couch that, while it doesn’t have anything on an actual bed, he can manage to sleep on for the next few nights. Or maybe they can share his bed. He shakes his head. That thought needs to be put to the side, even if it’s meant in the most innocent way possible. Of course, in case she decides to cash in that rain check…

 “Yes. I mean, that would be great, if you’re sure.”

 “I’m sure.” Actually, he can’t think of a better way to spend the weekend. The plan was to meet up either Saturday or Sunday, possibly both, so this isn’t that far out of the ordinary.

 “Okay, but just a warning: They’re not letting us go up to our floor in case there’s been electrical damage as well-” That’s smart. If the pipes are in that bad of condition, who knows what the wiring looks like. “-so all I have is my purse, backpack, and what I wore to work. No toothbrush or pajamas, or anything like that.”

 “That’s alright. All you have to bring is yourself.” He’ll have to look, but he’s pretty sure he has something in his closet that’ll work okay for her until she gets the all clear to go into her apartment. Plus, there’s a laundry mat just around the corner, not to mention a pharmacy.

 “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” 

 “Not a problem.” He glances at his bedside clock. Five thirty-four. It takes roughly half an hour to get across the city by bus, so… “I’ll see you around six fifteen?”

 “See you then.”

 As soon as the line goes dead, he springs into action. First thing’s first: make sure there’s no dirty clothes, old dishes, or trash laying around. That takes all of five minutes. He should probably check that he does indeed have something she can wear so they won’t have to fumble around later. Tshirts are pretty universal and… yes, he has a few pajama bottoms that have a drawstring waist. How much time does he have left? The phone screen lights up, giving him his answer. Twenty-seven minutes. More than enough time to run around the corner and pick up a few things.

 His intention is to buy the basics: spare toothbrush, deodorant, hairbrush, maybe a different shampoo than his three-in-one body wash (it’s convenient for him, but she might prefer something designated for hair specifically). But, well, there’s quite a few aisles, and he gets sucked in. Does he need to buy razors, or is that rude, like he thinks she’s hairy? What about aspirin? How often do most people get headaches? He honestly can’t remember. 

 By the time he realizes that he really needs to get a move on, his basket is full and he has no idea what aisle he’s on. Desperately, he looks around, and his eyes land on… huh. So they just have them out in the open these days. Last time he was in the market for that, he had to beg a married friend to make the purchase for him. He briefly wonders if he’ll need to produce proof of marriage or something similar, but pushes the thought to the side. It’s the 2000s. He can probably just go up to the register and pay, and no one will give him a second look. But there’s just one problem: which brand? He should google… suddenly remembering his adventure from earlier today, he decides to just go with his gut and pick one. There. Now, he needs to pay and get the fuck out of here because there’s only ten minutes left, and he’d rather not have these out in the open, in case she thinks that’s the reason he’s asked her to stay over. If it happens, great. If not… well, he’s made it for the past seventy years. What’s a few more?

___________________________________________________________________________________

 She was still pretty shaken up when she arrived at his apartment, carrying her backpack and purse, slightly damp from the drizzle of rain now covering the city. But immediately receiving a long hug, being instructed to make herself at home, and hearing the offer to take a shower so she could warm up did a lot to restore her good mood.

 It was one of the sweetest thing she’s ever experienced in a lifetime where most people have showed her their worst, going into that bathroom and finding a new toothbrush, stick of deodorant, nail clippers, hairbrush, and even shampoo. That and Barnes bashfully informing her that, “I’ll stay in the living room until you’re done. Take your time.” She almost suggested that he just join her in an attempt to broach the subject they left off on two nights ago, but thought better of it. She’s just started to strip when a knock comes from the other side of the wall.

 “Sorry. I just remembered that I forgot to give you a change of clothes. Can I leave them outside the door?” A smile forms on her face.  

 “Sure. Go ahead.” No one’s given this much thought to her comfort or boundaries before. Yet another reason she knows this is the right decision.

 She doesn’t stay in the shower for long, just enough time to wash and stop shivering. After toweling off and brushing out her hair, she cracks open the door. Sure enough, a worn but clean tshirt and pair of pajama bottoms are waiting for her. The familiar scent of the laundry detergent he uses envelopes her as she dresses and, at long last, leaves the safety of the bathroom.

 True to his word, he’s still sitting on the couch, thumbing through a book she gave him some months back (he’s missed so many feats of literature that have made their way into pop culture; today’s choice is The Hobbit because, while it was out before everything happened to him, he’s never read it) when she emerges. Just in case he’s so absorbed that he hasn’t heard her, she repeats his gesture from earlier and knocks softly on the wall.

 “Hey. I’m out. You can have your apartment back.”

 “Hey.” That smile always makes her feel slightly unsteady on her feet. “Find everything okay?”

 “I did.” She settles into the place next to him. “Thank you, by the way. You didn’t have to go out and get supplies.”

 “I know.” He nods, hand closing around hers. “But I wanted to make sure you had whatever you needed.”

 They chat for a while about their days, discuss what they should do with the weekend ahead, even throw out ideas for dinner. The entire time, she’s trying to figure out the best way to bring up that she’d really like to finish what they started the other night. However, by the time he’s left to grab some sort of takeout, she’s still no closer to an answer.

 Fortunately, their dates usually follow a pattern. Food, a movie, and then the not-so-innocent cuddles. This time, he’s on top of her when she feels the tell-tale sign that he’s as fired up as she is, so she suggests,

 “Do want to maybe move to somewhere more comfortable?” His already dilated pupils grow even larger, and he nods.

 “Yeah. That sounds like a plan.” She waits for him to roll off of her and head towards the bedroom before she grabs her purse and, digging around inside, grabs one of the foil packages she bought after their last date.

 It’s only once she closes the door behind her, shutting them into an enclosed space with a bed (not to mention it’s pretty damn clear what both of their intentions are), that nerves get the better of her.  He takes a step towards her, and she leans up to kiss him, but he ducks his head out of the way.

 “You’re shaking.” His hand ghosts over her arm, making it obvious that, by comparison, she’s practically vibrating on the spot.

 “Sorry.” She chuckles nervously. “It’ll pass.”

 “It’s alright.” As he says it, he meets her eyes. “We can stop. Nothing has to happen.”

 “I know.” She nods, swallowing hard. “But I want it to.” Their lips briefly meet before he pulls away again.

 “Let me ask you, just before we get started, is this-” He stops short, eyes darting from her face to the wall and back again. “...have you… before?” Oh. “Not that it matters, not to me, I just wanted to know so that-”

 “I have.” She nods, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “Once. I was eighteen, and-” It was awful. She’d been seeing the guy for a few months and he kept whining about her not putting out, so she decided to get it over with. He went in dry without any warning, and when she asked him to stop, give her a second to adjust, he told her he couldn’t. She was bleeding and in pain for days afterwards, and to top it off, when her period was late, she thought that, even though he’d pulled out, she was pregnant. That turned out not to be the case, but it, along with the fact that she usually doesn’t stay in one place for very long, has put a damper on her ever wanting to do that again. Except for now. “-it wasn’t a great experience.”

 “I’m sorry.” On instinct, she searches for the judgment in his face, the disgust. It’s nowhere to be found, only genuine sympathy. “I’ll do my best to make sure this time is better. That is, if you’re still up to it.”

 “I am.” Not waiting for a reply, she wraps her arms around him and starts trailing kisses up his neck towards his ear. “I am. I trust you.” She hears his breath catch, but before she can comment, he’s hoisted her up and is carrying her in the direction of the bed.

 As he sets her down, she pulls him on top of her, letting her hands wander over his sides, up his back. After a few moments, she feels his fingers move from her hips to toy with the hem of her… his.. shirt.

 “Is this okay? Can I take this off?” She starts to nod, but remembers just in time that he’s so close, they’d butt heads.

 “Please.” She expected to feel exposed once she was at least partially undressed, but instead she feels… adored. His eyes are roaming over her newly exposed skin, though his hands have respectfully returned to her waist. In a moment of confidence, she reaches behind her and unhooks her bra. There. Now she’s completely shirtless.

 “You’re so beautiful.” The flush from her cheeks is spreading down her neck, but she still smiles.

 “Care to make things even?” It’s brief, but she catches the look of hesitation.

 “Sure.” Before she can offer to do it, he shrugs his shirt over his head, revealing to her, for the first time, the entirity of his metal arm. She must look for a moment too long, because with a shrug, he informs her, “I can put my shirt back on. No big deal. I know there’s some scarring…” That’s not going to fly. She needs to reassure him, make him feel as desired as he’s made her feel.

 “Or if you want to stop-” She stands and, after briefly making eye contact, places a kiss on the most prominent scar.

 “Don’t you dare think that way for a second.” They’re flush against each other, chest to bare chest. “Not for one.” Slowly, she slides her hands from his shoulders down to his waist, hesitating just over the button. “Is this okay?” Another shakey breath.

 “Yes.”

 Going forward, it’s much less awkward. The rest of their clothing is shed, and soon they’re back to their previous position; on the bed, with him on top of her. She feels his fingertips brush the inside of her thigh and gasps.

 “May I touch you?” She nods.

 “You’d better.”

 It’s gentle, more of him feeling her out than anything else. Still, she can’t help but think this is infinitely better already than last time around. Suddenly, he pulls his hand away, and it takes all her effort not to whine at the loss of contact. Before she can ask if something’s wrong, does he want to stop, he’s flat on his stomach, head between her legs.

 “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

 “What-” Her breath catches as it becomes infinitely clear what he’s doing.

 Again, she’s expecting pain when, after several minutes he eases a finger into her, but at this point, she’s so wet that there’s absolutely no difficulty.

 “Are you okay?” She nods.

 “Don’t stop.”

 The process is agonizingly slow, he’s so intent on his task. When, finally, he pulls away, she’s so close that she can almost taste it.

 “Do you still want to-”

 “If you don’t stop asking me that, I’m gonna slap you.” It’s a joke, and she thinks he knows it, but just to be sure, she siezes his hand (the metal one, which is usually cold but has now warmed from being held close against her body. “I’m ready, so long as you want this too.”

 “I do. You wouldn’t believe how much.” Yeah, she thinks she would. “Just give me a second.” Perfect timing. He rolls off of her, which gives her the opening she needs to grab the packet she managed to hide under the pillow while he was… otherwise distracted. When he returns from digging inside the wardrobe, she holds it up, only to realize-

 “Oh.” He’s got one as well. “Seems like we both came prepared.”

 He chuckles. “Just in case, although that wasn’t why I asked you to stay.”

 “I know.” She nods and pats the space next to her. “Not why I said yes either, although I can’t say I’m disappointed.”

 He returns to the bed and drops his packet onto the nightstand. “Save this one for later?”

 “Definitely.”

 There is a bit of discomfort once he starts to push inside her, but it’s not painful. Just… overwhelming. Slightly embarassed she asks,

 “Can you wait a second? Please?”

 “Of course. Are you alright?” She shifts her hips slightly, making them both groan.

 “Fine. You can move now.”

 She may have only done this once before, and she has no idea what his experience consists of, but as she hits her peak mere seconds before he does, gently coaxed over the edge, she can’t help but think some things are better the second time around.

 “I love you.” It’s whispered against her neck as, once she cleans up and returns to bed, she settles herself against him.

 “I love you too.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

 The first thing he thinks when he realizes that he’s not alone in bed is that HYDRA’s found him. He’s being activated. His eyes shoot open although apart from that he doesn’t move a muscle, and that’s when he recognizes the person next to him. It’s her. She’s here.

 The events of last night come back to him all at once, and he feels a smile forming on his face. It’s been a while, and in any case, it would be wrong to run a comparison, but what they shared, the pure intimacy of it both physically and mentally was incredible. Maybe he should feel a sense of shame. That’s what he was taught growing up. But instead he feels… peaceful.

 That is, until her eyelids flutter and she rolls over, shifting the covers so that he gets a good view of her still naked body, and with it, the bruises on her thighs and hips. Bruises unmistakably left by his fingers. Dammit. He’s done the last thing he ever wanted to do: he’s hurt her.

 “Good morning, sleepy head.” She yawns, the teasing words muffled. “It seems like we overslept.”

 His mouth goes dry, and all he can manage to choke out is a simple, “Yeah.”

 She frowns, sitting up slightly, and lets out a small groan. “You alright there, Bucky? You look a little off.” The late morning light only serves to highlight more marks he’s left, this time on her shoulders, neck, and breasts. Stubble burn. Hickeys. Why the hell was he so rough? At the time, he thought he was being gentle, but obviously he’s just as much of a monster as Bucky Barnes as he is once the Winter Soldier takes over.

 She’s still staring at him, brow furrowing in concern.

 “Fine.” He clears his throat and begins to sit up. “Stay here. I’ll make you a cup of tea, maybe some oatmeal.”

 “Alright. Don’t be gone too long.”

 Her words follow him out of the room, and into the kitchen. Fuck. He should’ve known better. 

Maybe once upon a time, he was a decent man, one who could be with a woman like  her and not do her a disservice. But now, it’s clear that he falls short in every way. In an act that was supposed to be pure pleasure, a way of communicating how much they mean to each other, he’s hurt her.

 “I trust you.” The words from last night ring in his ears. He shouldn’t have let her. It’s pretty damn obvious that, even at the best of times, he can’t be trusted.

 “Tell me what’s going on.” Even with his enhanced senses, he still jumps in surprise as the unexpected words come from behind him. He turns around slowly, not wanting to startle her. She’s standing there, clad in only one of his shirts, arms crossed over her chest (now bearing his marks), staring him down.

 “Nothing.” He shakes his head.

 “Bullshit. I had a vision of you staring off into space, and here you are, jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” At another time, her choice in phrases would make him chuckle, but right now, he can’t muster it.

 “Last night-” Her eyes widen, but she stays silent. “I hurt you.”

 “No, you didn’t. Not at all.”

 “I did.”

 She frowns. “Bucky, I think I’d know if you’d hurt me, and I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

 “Doll, look at yourself!” He reaches out to take her arm, but immediately freezes. “Go in the bathroom and take off your shirt. Take a good look in the mirror and then tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

 “Alright.” Her jaw clenches, and she marches off in the direction of the bathroom. A deep sickness gnaws at the pit of his stomach and, completely worn out, he sinks into a kitchen chair.

 Not thirty seconds pass before she walks back into the room, this time completely undressed.

 “Tell me you’re not talking about a few love bites.”

 “And bruises! You may not have noticed, but they’re in the exact shape of my fingertips.”

 “Oh my god!” She shakes her head. “It’s a sex injury. A minor one at that! If you didn’t heal so damn fast, you’d probably have nail marks all over your back!”

 “That’s not the same thing.”

 “How is it not the same thing?”

 “I’m a monster! And you’re not.”

 She takes a determined step towards him, and he leans as far back as the chair will allow.

 “Bucky, you are not a monster, and I am not afraid of you.”

 “Then you’re stupid.” He hates himself for his sharp words, but she needs to take this seriously. Underestimating how dark, how evil he can be, is a mistake. A deadly one.

 “Hey!”

 “Don’t you get it?” Without any input from his brain, he stands. “They could find me, and with a few words, I could stare you dead in the eyes as I murdered you! If you were my mission, I wouldn’t even hesitate, and you’d be dead before your body hit the floor!” Her mouth falls open, but she immediately closes it again. “This isn’t something that can be worked through with some patience and a positive attitude! I could kill you!”

 “So could a million other things!” Her voice rises in volume, and before he can contain it-

 “But they’re not in the bed sleeping next to you!” He’s shouting at her. God. Everyone is right. He’s beyond saving.

 A few tense seconds pass before she looks up at him, a steely look in her eyes.

 “Look, I get it. I know what you could do to me.” As she speaks, she pulls out a chair and sits. “But I could also get run over when I cross the road, or the room could fill with carbon monoxide while I sleep. I could have an aneurysm and drop before anyone knows what’s happening.”

 He opens his mouth to tell her the likelihood of any of those things happening is far lower than the chance that he’ll hurt her, this time in a major way, but she holds up a hand, silencing him.

 “I’m gonna be cautious, but I’m also not going to live my life in fear that the ceiling is going to collapse or nuclear war is going to strike, or that someone is gonna turn up and say the magic words that make you go cuckoo for cocoa puffs-” What? “-and I just realized you’re too old for that reference.”

 “That’s another thing-” He’s about to remind her exactly how big their age gap is, that although he’s physically close to her age, chronologically, he’s closer to the age of her great grandfather, but she lets out a sudden groan of frustration, and that makes him bite his tongue.

 “Oh, fuck off, Barnes! If you’re about to start in on how you’re too old for me, then I’m not gonna wait for you to go full Winter Soldier before I kick your ass!” Out of all things, that’s what snaps him out of it, makes him feel like maybe, just maybe, there’s still a chance they can make the best of things.

 Smirking, he asks her,

 “You think you could kick my ass? Really?” It must be the breaking point for her too, because she snickers.

 “Of course. It’s the little bitches you have to watch out for.”  That’s it, he’s laughing, nearly doubled over, and from the looks of things, she’s in much the same state.

 “You’re something else, you know that?” He asks between stilted breaths.

 “I think we both fit in that category, Pal.” Her smile fades, but only slightly. “Bucky, if you really want me to go, if that’s what’ll give you peace, then I’ll do it, but I meant what I said. I trust you.” Never. He’ll never want her to go, he’s sure of it. Well then, that only leaves one option.

 “I know what we’re doing today.” It’s an abrupt segue, but it’s the only thing he could come up with on short notice.

 “And what’s that?”  The microwave dings, reminding him that he needs to stir the oatmeal, and he pushes past her.

 “Sit down and have your tea. You’re going to need all your energy if I’m gonna show you how to use a gun.” If she’s staying, then at least he can teach her how to defend herself beyond the basics she already knows.

 “So I guess this means you’re keeping me around for a little while longer?” It’s spoken like a joke, but he turns to her, meeting her eyes to drive the point home.

 “Yeah, Doll. As long as you want me."

[archaneanscribe]

A Fresh Brew Shared with You

(So I’ve been getting really into Trio of Towns, and spent about one in-game month throwing coffee at Wayne until he loved me, and I had a lot of time to imagine what was happening in game while I did sp, so enjoy the byproduct of that. I use my farmer’s name, farm name (Aime, and Bloom Farm) plus some animal names, but it’s pretty generic otherwise, as it’s focused on Wayne’s POV mostly.).

-------------------------------

Bloom Farm hadn't always been the last stop on Wayne's postal route every morning.

When Aime had first moved in, she was solidly in the middle- he would work his way through the more local Westown residents, then mosey on down to Bloom, before taking the long way around to reach Tsuyukusa and Lulukoko. Back in those days, he would often catch a glimpse of her toiling away in her fields, maybe even snagging her attention long enough for them to exchange a wave. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Then the main bridges reopened, and during the ensuing reshuffling, he and Ethan had worked out that it would be best for him to stop at her farm at the very end to complete his loop of the crossroads.

And he stopped seeing her.

Well, that wasn't nearly accurate- he saw her throughout the day, running about like the busy bee she always was, and they might pass each other by at his other stops. But he no longer ran into her on her own property. By the time he arrived, she was inside her barns, milking the cows.

(He still remembers the taste of that glass of milk, so sweet, but not nearly as sweet as his host.)

It was simply how it panned out, but he couldn't help but feel a little pang of regret at losing those glimpses of her in her element, working the land like she dreamed for half her life.

And then Aime had to surprise him, as she always did.

It was an ordinary fall morning, the red dawn melting away to make room for the blue midday sky while he crunched fiery leaves beneath his boots. She only had one letter that day, which looked like nothing more than a materials invoice from Ludus. In and out, easy as pie. But when he got to her mailbox, he found a curious sight sitting right on it's flat wooden top.

A cup of steaming hot coffee.

He looked to both his sides, then around the box, then behind him, and finally at every which angle he could, resulting in him spinning around like a fool. Shrugging, he dismissed it as her forgetting her beverage in a rush. He pulled open the hatch-

-to find a note, with his name in large letters at the top.

DEAR WAYNE,

I know you walk your whole route and my farm is pretty out of the way. That made me start feeling badly about how much mail I get everyday, which gave me an idea: Since you like coffee, I'd start leaving you a cup! Please write on the bottom of this note how it tastes, and how you most like your coffee so I can try and make that for you.

LOVE, AIME

I'll be darned, he thought, unable to suppress a wide smile, Does that gal ever run out of ways to make my day?

He shook his head, gently placing the note back down like it was made of priceless crystal instead of hastily written on a torn piece of journal paper, and picked up the mug, still hot as all get out. That means he probably only misses her by a few minutes at most... Sniffing it, he took a tentative sip, smile instantly morphing into an ecstatic grin the moment his throat finished the first swallow.

"Delicious..." he said to no one in particular, punctuating it with another sip. It was your standard black coffee, straight from a packet, but this was brewed by Aime, for him, and she planned to do it every morning. There was no way it was going to be anything less than the best cup he ever had. Before he knew it, he had downed the whole thing, uncaring of the temperature, and was licking his lips to make sure he got every last drop.

Westown's famous playboy slobbering over his own face for any splashes of his crush's coffee. If only the town's gossip hounds could see him at that moment.

After his euphoria passed, he finally realized he was just standing outside her mailbox, letter in one hand and empty mug in the other. With no better solution in mind, he placed the cup back where he found it, before pulling a pencil out from his bag.

DEAR AIME,

Thank you kindly for the coffee, it was divine. My favorite has got to be mocha, but it's hard to get a hold of in these parts, so no need to trouble yourself. It's more than enough for me to know you're thinking of me.

- WAYNE

Content with his reply, he placed the note back in the box, covering it with her letter. He was mighty tempted to stay and wait for her, but his grumbling stomach had other plans. Oh well, he'd simply have to be satisfied with her coffee for now. 

As he made his way back to his room at the Postio, the grin on his face was enough to make the birds in the treetops swoon.

----

Despite what he had written, the very next day, he found a mug full of Cafe Mocha sitting on top of the mailbox. This time, the note was held down by the mug itself, penned on much nicer stationary.

DEAR WAYNE

I know you said don't worry about it, but Caolila recently had a large shipment of cocoa, so I couldn't help myself! Especially after remembering how much you enjoyed Vivi's milk. I have a cup myself every morning, so I don't mind doing it at all. I hope you have a great day today.

LOVE AIME

One again he was no match for this lass' tenacity, it seemed. He was going to be on the receiving end of her kindness no matter what he said.

Well, there was no use resisting now. Fully reconciled with the idea of this being a daily occurance (not that he needed much convincing), he decided to savor the beverage today, taking slow, luxurious sips. It would have been a good cup 'o Joe, even if he wasn't steadily falling for the woman who made it. Smooth and creamy, it was the perfect intersection of sweet and bitter. 

Despite trying to take his time with it, the experience was over before he knew it. He always enjoyed a good coffee, but he had never felt such a pain when it was over before.

...maybe he had it worse than he thought.

----

Two weeks into their caffeinated ritual, Miranda asked him a question that stopped him in his tracks.

"Thanks for the package as always, Wayne!" she paused, looking down at the box in her hands, before back up at the mailman, "Say... you never come by to buy coffee these days. Is somethin' the matter?"

"W-What? There's- Nothin's wrong, don't you worry."

Unfortunately, the fact that Wayne the Suave Postman tripped over his words was enough to tip just about anyone off that something was up.

She put her hands on her hips, and spoke in a tone that he was certain Noel had heard many a time in her short life, "Well I don't believe that for one hot second mister! Tell me what's eatin' you right now or I won't stop hounding you for the next week."

He knew she meant it.

"I've jus' been having coffee with Aime lately, is all. She makes too much, so she offers me a cup every mornin'," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn't particularly fond of lying, but if you told Miranda something worthy of gossip, it'd make the rounds by sundown, so he couldn't risk exposing his true feelings quite yet. Amie had to be the first to hear about them.

"Oh, is that so?"

...she seemed to know already, but at least had the decency not to make any accusations.

"I see now, but remember we've always got some in stock! Aime buys in bulk, so I always make sure I've got enough," she punctuated her statement with a wink. She definitely knew.

"...I'll keep it in mind, ma'am. See ya' later."

"Bye bye!"

Even if he wasn't totally convinced she was onto him from her words, by this point she definitely had to be, considering his face was as red as a rose right about now.

----

Another week after that, as he made his way down the slope that led into Bloom Farm, ready and eager for that day's mocha, it wasn't only a mug that he found sitting by the mailbox- it was Aime herself.

"Heya, Wayne!" she greeted him cheerfully, waving her arm in a large arc. He managed to successfully stifle his shock, though not so much his joy.

"Well, howdy there Aime. Shouldn't you be in that there barn by now?"

She smiled bashfully, "Normally I would, but Betsy the sheep is pregnant, so I've started doing it earlier in the day when I go to check up on her. Which means I've got some free time in the morning for awhile," she held up her own half empty mug, "So I thought I'd wait up for you. A hot drink is best shared with a good friend, after all."

"My grandma used to say the same thing," he replied, expression soft. Deciding to make himself comfortable, he pulled his bag over his head to place off to the side, laid his hat on a nearby fence post, grabbed the mug, and sat beside her on the porch steps. At first, not much was said, the pair instead choosing to mutually enjoy the warmth of the coffee in the crisp, chilly morning air.

"You talk about your grandparents a lot," she asked, cracking the silence like an egg, "What were they like?"

This took him aback briefly- it was his own fault, really, for keeping his past so close to his chest, but that was a rare question for him to hear.

"What were they like...?" he pondered aloud, blowing away the last wisps of steam from the steadily cooling mocha, "Well I'd reckon as nice as you could imagine. They weren't perfect people, nobody is, but they always tried their best to do right by each other, and everyone around 'em. Can't remember anyone ever having an unkind word to say when they were involved."

She giggled into the lip of her cup, shaking her head as she did so, "That sounds a lot like someone I know. You really take after them, if they were really like that."

"Shucks, that's mighty kind of you to say. I try and live like they taught me as best I can. Seems the only way I can repay 'em for all those years takin' care of me."

"Hmmm..." she brought her mug down to her lap, face pensive, "I'm sorry if this is too far, but... do you ever wonder if your life would have been different? If your parents stuck around, or even took you with them?"

He blinked blankly at her for a moment, at a rare loss for words, before quickly regaining his composure and shaking his head, "I can't lie and say I never have, but not for a very, very long time. I made my peace with it years ago. Maybe it wasn't the 'right' choice to leave me with grandad and grandma, but I couldn't imagine being very happy relocatin' all the time either."

That statement made her go quiet, and sent her gaze down to her feet, "It isn't very fun, you've got that right."

Shoot.

"I'm real sorry for being insensitive like that," he pulled the brim of his hat down in embarrassment, "I should have chosen my words more carefully."

"No no! You're fine!" she denied, frantically waving her free hand, "Our circumstances are totally different. We only moved every couple years, it wasn't constant travel or anything."

"Still, it couldn't have been easy on ya' if it was enough to make you decide striking out on your own was better than movin' again."

"That wasn't the only reason," she corrected, "It was just... what really spurred me to take to plunge. I figured the longer I was used to never settling down, the harder it would be when I was eventually able to follow my dreams. I was finally given my 'now or never' moment."

"Well," he knocked back his final sip of coffee, wiping his lips with his sleeve in exaggerated satisfaction, "Pardon me for sayin' so, but I'm glad it happened. You were the breath of fresh air these here towns needed."

She breathed out a quiet laugh, bumping her shoulder into his, the warmth of the contact even through cloth sending a pleasant tingle down his body, "You really are quite the charmer, Wayne. I'll admit to being a little slow on the uptake, so I didn't really get what everyone was tittering about you at first. But I definitely get it now."

If he were a lesser man, he would have tossed his hat into the air and hollered at that statement, but managed to resist.

But it was a close battle with himself.

"That so? Funny thing is, I feel like I'm at my clumsiest talkin' to you. You don't want pretty words or flattery like most folk. There's nothin' wrong with any of that, mind you, it's just easier than deep conversation."

"That's what I mean, silly," she replied with a dazzling smile, "Smooth talking Wayne is nice and all, you can't get to know everyone on a deeper level, but I definitely like the Wayne I know a lot better."

"What's this Wayne like?" he asked, dropping how voice down to his real flirtatious octave, "I'm mighty curious."

"He's earnest, very sweet, just a little bit silly, aaaaaand..." she dragged out the word, smiling growing to face splitting levels, before quick as a flash poking the tip of his nose, "...very cute."

Before he could reply, a nearly ear splitting BAAAAAAA arose from the nearby barn.

"Betsy!" she cried out, rising to her feet immediately, taking off in a run towards the sound, tossing only a single glance back at him, "Just leave the mugs there, I'll clean them up later! Goodbye!"

And with that, she was gone.

His hand rose to cover his nose like he hoped to trap the sensation there forever. His heart had thumped in his chest plenty of times for his other paramours, but it had never raced like a thoroughbred horse before he met her.

"Well I'll be," he said quietly to himself, "I'm in love with her."

----

The next time he was making his way to Bloom Farm, he had a very precious pendant hanging down from his neck which he could barely keep himself from fiddling with every few seconds.

Maybe it had been pretty obvious that their trajectories were in line for a crash, but he still felt like a million bucks knowing that she felt the same, enough so that it was her who had reached out to him.

The familiar fields came into view, and he immediately started searching the horizon for a glimpse of her, finally finding her dusting off her porch.

"Aime!" he called out, ditching any pretense of composure and sprinting towards her at full speed, which was worth it to see the joy on her face as he approached, "Mornin', darlin'."

"G'morning, Wayne," her grin had an edge of mischief, "Any mail today, or is this just a social call?"

"The only thing I have to deliver is myself today, I'm afraid to say."

"I think I'll be quite alright," her face softened, putting the broom aside and gesturing for him to come up with her, "Come on in, coffee's already brewing, and I tried my hand at making some cookies with Vivi's milk and Patty's eggs."

He nodded, following her with an expression he knew must have been downright lovesick. 

Maybe Bloom Farm hadn't always been the last stop on Wayne's postal route, but from now on, it would always be the last stop for his heart.•