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knightjpg · 6 months ago

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Tending the Garden

Living by yourself on your little homestead gets lonely after your father's passing. And so, when you find a handsome wounded stranger alone and left for dead in the dust, you take pity on him. Oh, he'll leave again someday, you know that. Which would be fine—if only he wasn't so damned sweet.

tags: Javier Escuella/reader, pining, falling in love

part 1 | part 2

Christ, not again.

“You better not be dead,” you tell the man lying crumpled in the dirt.

He doesn't stir. With a sigh you put your shotgun on your back and crouch down.

Scrawny, filthy, and bloody. “What a sight you are,” you mumble, checking for a pulse. It's there, however faint. When you turn the man over you see a young, handsome face; black, half-long hair, a nose that's definitely been busted at least once, and a faint scar across his left eyebrow. He's wearing a tattered poncho, its colours old and faded.

You sling his arm over your shoulder and whistle for Copper, who obediently trots closer. As an afterthought you grab the man's sombrero and push it onto his head more securely.

“Alright, girl,” you soothe your horse while hoisting the man over her rear. “Let's get home.”

You were heading that way, anyway, your little hunting trip yielding two fat rabbits in the traps you'd laid out some days ago. You're not used to catching less, not yet; it’s only been a few weeks since your father passed.

Maybe that's what moves you to take the stranger with you—the strange bouts of loneliness that have plagued you ever since the funeral.

Fortunately the stranger isn't seriously injured save for the angry, fresh wound around his neck and some cuts and bruises. You wrap him up in poultice and bandages and put him in your father’s bed; the rest is up to him.

As for yourself, you set to skinning the rabbits and preparing the meat, curing it and hanging it out to dry to add to your stock of provisions in the cellar. Part of it you set aside to prepare for a late dinner, humming as your knife makes quick work of your home-grown vegetables.

It's a quiet life out here, in the middle of the grassy hills and patches of dense forest. Redwood's less than an hour away by horse, and you go there on occasion to sell your pelts and buy the few supplies you can't fashion yourself at the little homestead you've lived in all your life.

That said... since your old man died you have to admit you're struggling a little managing it all by yourself.

When you set aside the now finished stew on the old, wooden table you can see the barn from the window across you, and it's not in a good state. You've been meaning to get around to the repairs, just—after the funeral... it's been hard.

You eat slowly. The crackle of the fireplace, the clink of your spoon against your plate, and the familiar creaks of the house withstanding the blustery winds of spring are your only companions. Your potatoes are doing nicely; so are your carrots and onions. Might be time to get started on those tomatoes soon... Maybe squash this year, too.

You're pulled out of your musings when the door to your father's bedroom creaks open and two guarded, dark eyes meet yours.

You reach for the shotgun lying next to your plate. The man's eyes widen and he takes a hesitant step back. “’S alright, stranger,” you say. “Just makin’ sure you don't repay my kindness by tryna slit my throat. How you feelin'?”

Your tone is gentle, yet the man hovers near the doorframe, clearly unsure of how to proceed. He's undeniably of Mexican heritage; maybe he doesn't speak English too well? You offer a smile, patting the chair next to you. “You hungry? Food?”

His eyes light up at that and he nods.

“Alright. Take a seat and I'll get you a plate.” You stand up, strapping your shotgun over your back. Just in case. Don't you trust no one, girl, your father always told you. It's what's kept you alive until now and you're intending to keep it that way.

The man shuffles forward and slowly takes a seat on the hard wooden chair. As soon as you put a plate down he inhales the food in front of him with such gusto it draws a surprised laugh out of you. “'S that why you were lyin’ in the dirt out cold?” You shake your head. “Poor bastard. Well, eat your fill.”

You hand him water as well as whiskey, both of which he accepts graciously. Once he's polished his first helping and starts on the second, you ask him his name. He looks up, cheeks near bursting, and your lips quirk up. You gesture to yourself, introduce yourself, and then, with an encouraging raise of your eyebrows, nod to him.

“My name, Javier,” he says with his mouth full, pointing to his chest.

“Nice t’meet you, Javier.” You touch your own neck and pat your abdomen in the spot where Javier got an especially nasty cut. “How's that feelin’?”

He understands, mirroring you by touching his bandaged neck. “Thank you,” he says earnestly, his accent curled thickly around his words. Not exactly what you meant, but you'll take that to mean it's bearable.

You let him be, then, content to watch him eat until he's satisfied. When he's done your eyes linger on his dirt-stained fingers. Actually, forget his fingers—he's covered in grime from tip to toe.

“You wanna wash up? There's a water pump just outside.” When he looks at you uncomprehending you get up, scraping your chair back over the hard wooden floor, and gesture with your hand. “Come. Outside. What's it called—? Agua.”

That seems to land. He follows you, and once you work the pump to fill a wooden pail you leave him to it with a nod. After heading back inside you rummage around in your late father's meagre belongings and pull out a shirt and some jeans that will surely be too big on Javier. Well, at least they'll be clean.

“Javier!” you call out before rounding the back. “You decent? Got you some clothes.”

His voice carries back to you in some kind of affirmation and you step around the corner of the house. You're not quite prepared to see him shirtless, however, and for a moment your eyes linger on the expanse of his back narrowing into slender hips. You tear your gaze away from him the moment he turns, thrusting the clothes into his waiting still-wet hands. “Here.”

“Gracias,” he says, his lips curling in an appreciative smile. It strikes you then just how handsome he looks with his hair dripping wet and little rivulets streaming down the hollow of his neck. His dark eyes regard you with a curious intensity in the beat that passes before you excuse yourself and head back inside.

Javier returns looking much cleaner, sleeves rolled up around his forearms and jeans tucked neatly into his scuffed boots. He allows you to take his dirty clothes from him and you set them aside for tomorrow's washing. Then you gesture him to sit down, checking to make sure his bandages haven't gotten wet or displaced; but it looks like he was careful, and you don't need to redo any of your work.

“Rest,” you tell him before moving back to the kitchen to clean up the dishes. When he shakes his head and follows you to the sink you raise an eyebrow.

“Quiero agradecerte por salvarme. I help you,” he says, gesturing. You snort, pushing his hands away.

“Ain't nothin’ for you to do ‘side from sit pretty ‘nd heal up.” His brow furrows at that, and you smile, nodding to the kitchen table. “Why don't you sit and tell me what happened to you? Y’looked a fright when I found you.”

When he remains quiet you look back over your shoulder and see a shadow has fallen over his face, his shoulders tense and drawn up. You hum in understanding, drying your hands on a towel before leaning your hips back against the counter. “Where you headed next, then?” you ask gently. “You got someplace to go?”

He shakes his head, eyes downcast on his hands folded across his lap.

“Well. I could use a hand with the barn,” you muse. “Reckon I can let you stay a while if you help me out ‘round here.”

He looks up that, brows upturned in a hesitant, hopeful expression. “Stay?” he repeats.

“Sure,” you smile. “You help me, and you stay.”

—

With some rest and care Javier makes a quick recovery, and after a while of having three hot meals a day his strength returns. His scrawny figure fills into lean, wiry muscle, following your every request with an eagerness to please that never fails to makes you smile.

He helps fix the barn with you, and when that's done he moves onto a leaky part on the roof. He helps plant you tomatoes by day, and during the evenings you help him practice his English. You ask him to teach you Spanish in return. There are several times you both end up laughing by what essentially turns into a strange game of charades.

“Ah, cómo describirlo... You sit on a horse.”

“Ridin'?” you offer.

“No, no... The chair on the horse...”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from chuckling. “The saddle?”

“Sí!” a smile breaks through on his face, pleased you've understood. And so on. You talk about anything that comes up; the chores you do, the vegetables you plant, the animals you catch. You lend him the few books you have, once having belonged to your mother, and read to him while explaining the words best you can.

Javier doesn't talk about his past nor what he's running from, but that's fine. As long as he doesn't lead trouble to your doorstep a man has a right to his secrets. And though he clearly has moments where he struggles with a heavy sadness weighing upon his shoulders, Javier slowly becomes livelier.

Sweet spring air with its budding green things lifts your own mood, too. Weeks roll into months, and both of you settle into your comfortable new normal; for as long as it'll last. You don't know what Javier has in mind for his future, but you're assuming he'll probably want to move on from here at some point. It's what makes you force yourself to look away from the way he pulls his ever-growing hair back into a ponytail, forearms flexing when he ties it secure.

It's also to this end that you share your earnings from what you sell in town, insisting he has a right to it; it was a team effort, after all, wasn't it? It's a joy to see him look down at the money he's earned with his own hands, awe and gratitude lining his face.

Javier's not the best at hunting or tracking, but he takes to fishing, and you're happy your father's fishing kit will get to see some use rather than collect dust in a corner. He's skilled with a knife too, and your usual workload of skinning and cutting is easily halved.

“You know, I been thinkin',” you tell him one evening, seated across each other like usual on your couch. “’Bout getting some chickens. Lotsa fresh eggs every day. We'd have little chicks runnin’ ‘round, too. What you think?”

Javier nods. “We have to build a chicken house.”

“That's right, a chicken coop. You up for it?”

“Claro. Tell me when we start.”

It feels natural, to have these kind of idle conversations with him. To plan, to dream a little. With the rising temperatures Javier often works in the garden shirtless, his hat shielding his face from the sun. You're not sure if it's a blessing or a curse. Several times you feel the desire to reach out and smooth your hands over his skin, to taste the sweat a day's work has collected in the nape of his neck.

One time Javier catches you, and you're not sure he believes the half-coherent excuse you give him. Good Lord, you need to get yourself together.

There other moments where you swear lightning takes a hold of you. When you climb down the ladder from fixing the roof his hands steady your hips. When you pore over the English books he painstakingly works his way through he's so close you can feel his breath on your cheek. When you harvest the vegetables in your garden his fingers brush against yours.

Has it been that long since you've been touched?

It gets to the point you saddle up Copper to go into Redwood just to be away from him and the homestead for a day. You go out to town every few months to stock up on a larger amount of goods and supplies; you're on friendly terms with the general store's assistant, Jimmy, and he's always happy to drive you back with a wagon full of things to last you a good while.

Copper nuzzles your hand affectionately and you stroke her neck, slipping her an apple. Javier spots you and jogs over, smile bright. “Are you leaving?”

He's wearing a blouse today, the first couple buttons undone. His collarbones dip so beautifully along his shoulders, and when he wipes the sweat off his forehead the fabric stretches around his muscles. You swallow, mouth feeling dry.

This is the whole reason you have to head out. Clear your head. Talk to some other people that don't have glittering dark eyes and crooked smiles and stupidly attractive laughs.

You focus on strapping on Copper's saddle while you answer Javier. “Yep. Time to stock up on some things. I'll be gone for the day, so watch the house for me, won't you?”

“Of course,” Javier nods. “For the chicken house? Ah, coop?”

“That's right,” you smile. “I'm gettin' us the materials and some chicks to start out with. A rooster, too. So no more sleepin’ in late,” you add with a little grin.

Javier groans, but it's in good humour. “Monta con seguridad. Ride safe.”

“Always do.”

It's wonderful to feel the breeze on your skin as you ride, and once you reach town you find it was the right call. There's plenty to distract you, though Javier never quite leaves the forefront of your mind. When you get to the general store and greet Jimmy, who gets the catalogue ready for you to place your order, you can't help but add a few clothing items you think Javier might be in need of. You've noticed he enjoys taking care he looks nice, fussing with his hair and polishing his boots, and while your late father's clothes are sturdy and durable they don't possess a lick of fashionable flair.

A bandana, a vest, leather boots with finely stitched patterns, several blouses... You hardly notice how much attention you're pouring into it when Jimmy chuckles and nods to the pages you're so intently poring over. “Never thought that was quite your style, sugar.”

Your cheeks grow warm. “Oh—No, that ain't it. I've... Well. I got a wanderin’ stranger on my hands, and I feel obliged to him. Helped me out a lot, now that my Pa is gone and all...”

Jimmy's surprise melts into understanding. “’Course. You look like you're doin’ a lot better though—just be careful of strangers.”

“Don't worry. Ain't no one gonna get the jump on me.”

You pick out the rest of your items, and once you're satisfied you have all you'll need Jimmy tells you he'll start loading up the wagon for you. “I'll take a bit, sugar, so feel free to come on back in a while.”

You take the opportunity to sell your furs and take a stroll around Redwood, noting the subtle changes that present themselves after not having visited for a while. The saloon has a fresh coat of paint; there’s a new butcher in town. Stores have swapped out their previous goods for things more currently in style.

Behind one of the storefronts’ windows a fine, dark bowler hat catches your fancy, and you imagine Javier wearing it along with his crooked little grin. You exit the store only minutes later, feeling foolish and yet helpless when you imagine his delight at your gift.

After killing some time in the local saloon you find your way back to the general store, pleased to see Jimmy's loading up the last couple items. He helps you onto the front bench of the wagon, and then you're rattling off. Copper obediently follows behind.

“Saw you got some chicks 'n a rooster, miss. Think they'll do real well for ya...”

Jimmy's small talk is pleasant, and you're almost surprised at how quickly your little homestead comes into view again. It never fails to make you feel comforted, to see the squat little buildings and the garden nestled among the hills.

Jimmy insists on helping you off the wagon again; “You're a lady, I gotta treat you well,” and you allow him with a bemused smile. Only when your feet touch the grass again do you spot Javier from the corner of your eye, holding your shotgun and wearing a much darker expression than you're accustomed to seeing on him.

He slowly steps closer, dark eyes boring into Jimmy's hand still holding onto yours.

“Javier!” you call out with a smile. “It's alright, put that gun away, now. This is Jimmy; the feller I told you about.” You turn back to Jimmy, thanking him again for taking the trouble with the deliveries.

Javier's frown doesn't disappear, however, not even when you gently touch his elbow, asking him to take Copper to the barn while you unload. Jimmy hangs back nervously, eyes darting between you and Javier. He helps you unload quickly, and when you ask if he'd like to stay for dinner he shakes his head.

“I'd best be goin', miss. You take care now,” and with a tip to his hat the wagon rattles off again. You watch him leave, then turn around to raise an eyebrow at Javier.

“Ain't like you to be so unfriendly.”

Javier looks away, an unhappy frown tugging at his lips. “This man is touching you too much.”

You blink. “Jimmy? Oh, he's harmless. Known him for years; he's always been a good kid.” When Javier's frown remains you chuckle, gesturing for him to follow you. “Alright, alright. Come on, let's go inside. I got somethin’ for you.”

That piques his interest. “What is it?”

“Un sombrero,” you grin, then think for a second. “...Algo así.” Ain't really a sombrero, exactly...

“Algo así?” Javier's lips curl upward. “Me estás dando curiosidad.”

“Just wait till you see it.” The cool interior of the house feels wonderful after riding in the sun and you exhale, removing your hat and running your fingers through your hair in relief.

Javier obediently lets you direct him to sit on the couch while you sort through the boxes. When he’s presented with the clothes you picked for him you can hardly take your eyes off of him: Javier's whole face is aglow with delight.

“I might have to make some adjustments to make ‘em fit you well,” you tell him when he holds up his new blouses to his chest.

“Estos son maravillosos!” Javier beams. He's especially taken with the boots, his fingers tracing the delicate stitching. He looks up at you, eyes softening. His smile is a beautiful thing. “Muchas gracias, señorita.”

That damn fluttery feeling in your chest... “Now close your eyes, mister. Got one last thing to complete the picture.”

You're made to eat those words. When Javier obediently closes his eyes it's so tempting to reach out and put a hand to his cheek, to touch a thumb to his lips... It takes real effort to tear yourself away from these thoughts and instead open the hat box, unwrapping the bowler hat from its crinkling, protective paper, and to put it on Javier's head. His hair tickles the back of your hand as you do, and maybe you're imaging it, but you swear there's a little hitch in his breath when your fingertips graze his temple.

He looks every bit as dashing as you'd pictured. “Well, well,” your smile seeps into your voice. “Ain't you a fine-lookin' gentleman. Here's a mirror—open your eyes, señor Javier.”

He does, eyes widening in surprise and then crinkling in happy delight as he sees the hat adorning his head. He turns this way and that, admiring the fine make and material in the small mirror you're holding up in front of him.

“Tell me if it don't please you, and 's no hard feelings,” you reassure him, but that statement is met with such an indignant expression you laugh. Javier gets up from his chair, taking your free hand in his. His mouth curves into a sweet smile, and the fact that it's aimed at you warms your cheeks far too much.

“Cariño,” Javier murmurs, his tone one so gentle as you've not heard before. “¿Para qué es todo esto? ¿Para consentirme?”

You scrunch your nose, brows knitting together. “Them's too many words I don't know...”

To your surprise Javier lifts your hand to brush his lips over your knuckles. “You are very good to me.”

You let out a soft little “oh,” and when Javier's gaze on you lingers you fluster, pulling your hand from him and turning away, pretending to be busy with the few supplies still strewn across the kitchen table. “Well, I—I just couldn't bear seein’ you wear your clothes to rags ‘s all.”

All you hear in response is a little chuckle, but it makes you feel entirely too pleased.

—

“Do you go—often? In town?” Javier asks you over dinner. Mashed potatoes, summer salad, smoked rabbit. It's a lovely spread, garnished with the flavours of your little herb garden.

“Not often, no. Why? You miss Jimmy already?” you tease.

Javier wrinkles his nose in distaste, and you laugh. “I do not miss Jimmy.”

“Well, maybe you'll warm up to him. Most folk in town ain't too bad, really.”

“¿Te gusta él—Jimmy?” Javier's tone is casual, almost disinterested. But when you look at him he's awaiting your answer with the watchful eye of a hawk.

“Él es un amigo,” you reply easily. “A friend. My Pa was fond of ‘im too.”

Javier does a little “hm”, then goes back to poking at his food. You nudge his foot with your own, forcing him to look back at you.

“What's the matter? You were so happy earlier.”

“I am happy,” Javier rushes to reassure you. His hand reaches out to touch yours, and when you turn your palm up instinctively to catch his fingers he finally smiles. “Nothing is wrong.”

After dinner and cleaning up you sit outside, side by side. The air is finally starting to cool. Cricket song hums in the air, the dying light of the sun smattering its final red hues on the evening sky. You share a bottle of whiskey between the two of you, exchanging small talk about the garden.

When the conversation trails off you watch Javier, his expression serious and thoughtful, gaze resting on the horizon. Not for the first time it fills you with a strange, sad sort of feeling. He'll leave you here someday, and that day is bound to come sooner rather than later.

“Say,” you speak up. “We should get you a horse.”

It's almost like you want him to leave. Might be better if he did, actually. You're not in too deep, not yet—or so you tell yourself. You can still let him go.

“A horse?” Javier looks at you, smiling with intrigue.

You shrug, trying to appear casual. “Yeah. We could go out ridin’ together if you like.”

“I would like that.”

And so plans are made for a visit to a ranch just outside of Redwood. You weren't expecting to be returning that way so soon, but oh well. Not like it'll kill you.

...Actually, no, it might kill you. Javier's strong arms wrapped around your waist to keep steady when you mount Copper are going to be the death of you. He's already seated just behind the saddle, and the way he instinctively reaches out to help you up doesn't help the stutter of your heartbeat in the slightest.

A puff of his breath tickles your neck, and you're suddenly very glad he can't see your face. Lord forgive you, but his hands...

“Ready?” you ask, your voice coming out slightly higher pitched than usual. And when Javier murmurs “Ready,” close to your ear you have a hard time suppressing a shiver.

Thank God for Copper's easy and dependable nature, because even when you're more distracted than usual by your very attractive cargo your journey goes smoothly. Javier's dressed himself up in his fine new clothes, including his new bowler hat, and he polished his boots till they were shining.

When you arrive at the ranch he slips off Copper first so he can take your hand as you dismount. “Gracias, señor,” you smile, and he grins.

Your playful smiles slip when you see the way the ranch hand that's coming to meet you is eyeing Javier. In response Javier ducks his head, letting his hat cover his face in shadow and keeping his eyes to the ground. His tension is a palpable thing. You give the ranch hand a curt greeting, not missing the way his eyes flick between the two of you with wary apprehension.

“We'd like to take a look at your horses,” you say. Best to move the conversation along quickly, now. “Nothing fancy, for ridin’ 'nd workin’.”

The ranch hand eyes Javier. “For this greaser?”

Javier looks up at him for a second, brief surprise followed by muted anger. Christ. Of course he'd know that word without you having to teach him.

“For my friend. You mind your mouth, boy,” you tell the ranch hand in a clipped tone. The man gives you an odd look. You don't care.

“Alright then... Follow me,” he says, and though he makes no additional comments about Javier, the way the ranch hand glances back at him says enough.

“We'll be fine from here,” you're all too happy to dismiss him when he's led you to the available horses. Then, turning to Javier in a much gentler tone. “Alright, darlin'. You take a look and see if there's any you like.”

The endearment slips out so naturally you surprise yourself. If Javier notices he doesn't say anything; he just nods, focusing his attention on the horses. Poor man. Running from God knows what and then shunned because of his heritage.

You join Javier, watching him walk past the horses with a concentrated little frown furrowing his brow. When he stops in front of a grey-and-white American Paint he finally smiles a little, stroking the stallion's neck. He catches your gaze, and you nod encouragingly.

“Fine breed. Learns quickly. Just like you—but a lot more obedient,” you smile, eyes soft so he knows you're teasing. Javier turns his head to you slightly, the tension momentarily lifting from his shoulders. A little grin curls around his lips, crooking it in that way that lately never fails to make your heart skip a beat.

“Then I will take him.”

He pays for the horse himself, looking proud that he's able to. He shushes and pats the horse gently, telling that its name is Boaz, now, and if he'll be a good horse for Javier he'll get some treats when they get home.

Javier looks so genuinely happy with himself as he rides Boaz you can't bring yourself to mourn the loss of his arms around your waist. This is good; this is a good thing. He has clothes, money, a horse. Everything he needs to get on with his life and leave you behind as a brief but kind memory.

The two of you ride slowly, letting Boaz adjust to his new owner and to you and Copper. You don't talk much on the way home, letting Javier fill the silence with excited chatter about Boaz. The barn will just be perfect for him, plenty of space, and Javier is sure Copper will be happy to have a friend, too, and maybe once Boaz gets used to Javier he can race you, you know, friendly competition, but if he wins then maybe you could make that apple pie again?

“Claro,” you smile, feeling both wistful and endeared with Javier's boyish grin. The way his eyes light up at the promise of your cooking. “...I'm sorry ‘bout what happened earlier,” you add in a much more serious tone. “And I'm sorry if I should've left it to you. Ain't like I think you can't stand up for yourself.”

Javier shakes his head. “It is not a new thing,” he tells you. “Thank you.”

You wave your hand. “My pa always used to say people's people. Don’t matter what they look like—we all get hungry 'n thirsty 'n tired.”

Javier hums, seemingly pulled into deeper thought by your words, and the rest of the way home you ride in silence. You're not sure what's on his mind save for that he seems vaguely troubled, his mind miles away. Must be about his past.

You let him be when you get back, wanting him to have the space without someone prodding at him. He spends a lot of time with Boaz the rest of the day and you busy yourself with your own chores. But you eat together outside in the warm summer evening, as always, even if Javier's still caught in his pensive mood. You don't mind the silence anyhow. You look over the grass waving in the wind, the soft sounds of chickens drifting from their coop. Your eye rests on your garden with a mix of contentment and pride, and absentmindedly you let yourself be pulled into musings of what to plant next and where. Peas do well this time of year.

You startle when Javier starts to speak. “I came to America because I killed a man in Mexico.” You turn to him as he talks. His eyes are set on the horizon, softening orange and reds announcing the end of another day. “Powerful man. If I stayed everyone I loved would die. I was afraid when I got here—I had nothing except fear. I was starving. Weak. ...Alone.”

Javier looks at you, finally. His dark eyes are pained, grave. So that's what happened to him before you found him. You'd wondered, of course. The scar around his neck that he hides with his bandana. His wariness, his guarded gaze when he meets someone new.

So he killed a man. You wonder if you should be frightened of him—beautiful Javier with his sometimes sad eyes, who calls your chickens ‘ladies’ and who hums while he brushes Copper for you; who burns his fingers and his tongue because he's too impatient to wait for your pies to cool, and who fusses over the wrinkles in his blouses.

You can't bring yourself to be.

“I thought I'd die crossing the desert. I thought I'd be killed here—instead I was simply starving because nobody cared.” He puts his plate beside him, the spoon clattering against the ceramic with a soft clink. Reaches for your hand, hesitant, slow. “You cared.”

Without thinking about it you turn your palm upwards to take his hand, and his fingers hold onto you tighter when you do. Compassion and sympathy pinch your brow. “Then I'm glad I found you when I did.”

“You saved my life,” Javier replies. His tone is so soft, and it squeezes your heart. Oh, the soft feelings pooling in your chest—you can't, you shouldn't. You attempt a smile, trying to force levity into your voice.

“And you paid me back ten times over with all the work you done ‘round here.” You hesitate. Try to burn the feeling of the weight of his hand in yours into your memory. “...You're free to go where you like now.”

The way he smiles at you then makes you wonder if he understood what you meant, but somehow you just can't bring yourself to ask.

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necromancy-enthusiast · 2 years ago

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I don't think I'll ever get over how Organization XIII was hyped up as this super nefarious villain group but then you get to their game 358/2 Days and they treat it like a job. A 9-5 soul crushing job. They have their daily menial tasks and then they go home and wash, rinse, repeat with little else occupying their lives. Even their hobbies and pastimes seem so limited, although you can arguably chalk that up to the game just not being interested in developing them like that (which is part of why the manga is great, because it has a tendency of developing them in ways the main writers aren't interested in). From the way they talk about it, they almost sound like they work at an office sometimes. A very bizarre, particularly backstabby office, but still. It's a soul crushing job AND a weird cult all at once and it's treated with this mundanity that's both hilarious in a way I didn't really get when it first came out and oddly humanizing.

I know for some dumb reason they didn't do a remake of Days and it's harder to access because of that, but if you can and it interests you enough to where you've wondered if it was worth playing, I really recommend playing it or watching a playthrough of the actual game instead of just the cutscenes. The story really is partly told through the mechanics and so much is lost when they just gave us the cutscenes pulled from the game in the compilations.

They really reinforce how bleak and mundane Roxas' life is most of the time, how bleak and mundane most of the members' lives are. How much control the Organization has over them. You don't just level up organically like in other kh games, you have to do this weird puzzle thing that limits your growth and abilities. They don't give you munny, they give you heart points that you can only use at the moogle shop in their castle, so they're literally paid in scrip. If you're unfamiliar with it, scrip is a currency you can only use in certain places instead of throughout a whole country or other type of political union like the eu, usually with the store at the company you work at. When you're on missions your path is blocked off, you can only go to certain areas that are directly related to your daily mission. It's suffocating and genius, especially since in most other series entries you get so much freedom comparatively.

With all that context it starts making some of their vices a bit more understandable. Can you really blame Demyx for not wanting to do his work when all he gets out of it is room and board, and the distant, vague promise of maybe someday getting a new heart? Especially since he's probably been with the Organization for years?

Can you really blame Marluxia and Larxene for wanting to mutiny when their boss is useless and all of their colleagues seem indifferent to it? I mean like. The murder isn't great. I'm still a bit sore about that. But I can definitely get behind the 'screw our boss' sentiment. I'm still very fond of my 'instead of going the cloak and dagger route Larxene and Marluxia somehow, possibly with the help of devil magic, manage to get everyone to cooperate so they can unionize and kick Xemnas out' au. An Organization XIII union au, if you will. Imagine Xemnas having to explain that to the other Xehanorts.

Master Xehanort: The people you gathered up for us to use as our vessels. Unionized?

Xemnas, the biggest loser in the entire series: :/

#kingdom hearts #organization xiii #marluxia #larxene #demyx #necro plays kingdom hearts #me making up kh AUs that 14 year old me would've totally failed to find interest in is just par for the course now

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pyrodolls · 1 year ago

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Second part of the yandere kung lao? We do not want it we NEED it 🥰

self aware! yandere kung lao x reader PART 2

warnings: obsession, ooc kung lao, gender neutral reader, kung lao has an existential crisis

summary: you’re in the game now, thanks to kung lao dragging you into the mortal kombat 1 universe. but you didn't expect him to be so... suffocating.

a/n: I WAS SURPRISED THAT PEOPLE LIKED THE FIRST PART. i got so many requests for a part two, sooooo here it is. i love self aware fics, and i tried so hard to hold back on turning this into a sagau-cult-au inspired fic. i love reading sagau cult au fics on here bro. maybe someday i'll make self aware mk1 cult au fics

see part one here -> part 1

-you woke up in the nook of an alley, confused on how you got there. but you knew you got transported in the world of mortal kombat. is this just a dream? there's no way you just woke up in a video game.

-you tried pinching yourself, in case you were indeed having a dream. unfortunately, nothing happened. you just landed in mortal kombat somehow.

-the thought of waking up in one of your favorite video games seemed cool at first, but a lot of questions popped into your head. how did you get there? is it a permanent thing? can you escape somehow? does any of this have to do with the kung lao glitches?

-your last question was quickly answered when you heard someone mumbling nearby. the voice sounded too familiar. it was kung lao's voice.

-"where are they..." kung lao mumbled, repeating that phrase every few seconds. was he looking for someone? could it be you he was looking for?

-you wanted to reveal yourself and meet him, but you hesitated. you remembered those weird glitches that happened while you were trying to play the game, so you were slightly creeped out by kung lao.

- a part of you wanted to say something or introduce yourself, but you got a strange feeling in your gut, almost as if you know you shouldn’t trust him. something is wrong about him, really wrong.

- trusting your gut, you ended up hiding from kung lao. as soon as you stopped hearing his mumbling, you got up from your hiding spot, thinking you were safe.

-"found you." kung lao whispered, engulfing you in his arms. apparently you couldn't hide from him. and he really was looking for you after all.

-"it's you.. it's really you..." he repeated, his voice cracking.

-"you know me?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "i think you have the wrong person..."

-"why would i have the wrong person? i brought you here for a reason." kung lao replied, not letting go of you.

-you were shocked. *he* was the one that brought you in the game? there's no way...

-"you see, i was tired of being away from you. it was like torture. i needed to feel your warmth, i couldn't bare being stuck behind a screen. besides, it kind of hurt when you kept on shutting the game off and on! did you not want to see me or something?" kung lao teased, casually acting as if you had a close relationship with each other.

-"how did you know you were in a game? and you wanted to feel my... warmth?" you asked, in complete shock from what he was saying. does he care about you or something? but you have never even spoken. obviously you liked kung lao because he was a cool character, but it was never deeper than that. you knew he was just a character and nothing more.

-"of course i did! you know how much i love you, right? i've been showing hints for so long! don't tell me that was for nothing.." he whined.

-he loved you? there was no way. he never even spoken to you! he was a fictional character, and you were just a regular mortal kombat player. it had to be a joke. maybe you were high.

-kung lao got the hint that you were still confused, so he tried to regain your memory.

-"you know.. remember how i gave you all my skins and stuff? that was a lot of hard work, you have no idea how much coding or whatever i had to go through. and i tried talking to you directly, but that was even harder. the most i could do was look at you as often as i could. was that not enough for you?" kung lao explained, sensing that his efforts were all for naught.

-so he was the reason for all those glitches. somehow, kung lao became self-aware... and he made himself the center of attention so he could gain your affection? it sounded extremely bizarre.

-if kung lao was capable of messing with the game and bringing you inside the game, who knew what else he was capable of?

-in fear of angering him, you decided to go along with his little delusions.

-"well, of course i knew! i just needed a reminder, sorry. i'm glad you brought me here, kung lao." you lied.

-upon hearing what you said, a big smile appeared on his face. kung lao was ecstatic that you returned his affections. he worked so hard to show you how much he loves you, and now he finally has the chance to embrace you. he can finally treat you with the love you deserve. he was tired of always seeing you on the other side of the screen, unable to directly interact with you.

-"great! i'm so glad we finally got to meet. i have so much i want to talk about with you, and i just can't wait to spend time with you. you don't understand how long i've been waiting for this moment." kung lao excitedly ranted.

-in that moment, a part of him realized his life was a lie. all the tales he heard of his ancestors, all the adventures and memories he's ever had... were all a figment for a video game. it was a terrible feeling to him, and he refused to face that reality. kung lao preferred to focus on you, instead of worrying. obviously, there was nothing else worth his love and time anymore after learning that his life is a lie.

-kung lao now believes you are a sort of saviour, a light in his fake life. nothing else matters anymore, because he has you now. and you have him too! he'll devote himself to you and provide you with strength, excitement, and love for the rest of your life. nobody is better than him, you should be grateful that you managed to have such a great partner by your side!

-it's not like anyone would be a better choice than him anyway, so don't go off and find someone else, okay? in fact, you probably shouldn't even look at anyone else. kung lao did so much for you and proved that he is worthy of your affections, so there is no reason for you to go after anyone else. if you do, kung lao will... take care of them. nobody will one-up him. nobody will be better than him this time. not on his watch. just this once... he can have something to himself.

#mortal kombat 1 x reader #mk x reader #mk1 x reader #yandere mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #yandere x reader #kung lao #yandere kung lao #kung lao x reader #kung lao mk1 #kung lao mortal kombat

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 25 days ago

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"Maybe someday I'll be that guy for you" this line just broke my heart. Why did he have to be so nice about it lol. Can you write a part 2 where he actually start noticing her like that? Like really starting to like her?

steve’s pov (might not be exactly what you asked for)

he still feels his heart lurch whenever he notices that dulled look hiding in your gaze. you try to hide it with a smile in his direction but it doesn’t properly meet your eyes. you don’t go out of your way to find his company you let him come to you, keeping a distance for either of you or just your heart.

it’s not like you’ve completely iced him out, but it’s different now. and steve really fucking hates that, but what’s he supposed to do? he didn’t want you to get your hopes up and so he told the truth, you deserve someone thousand times better than him. and that’s now caused your friendship to sail on rocky waters.

“stop staring at them, it’s creepy.” he startled slightly from the voice behind him, looking over his shoulder to see robin with her eyes stuck in a book at the small break table. he pretended to busy himself, “i wasn’t staring, just zoned out.”

robin hummed, “you seem to be doing that more then usual these days. got a specific thing on your mind? like, oh, i don’t know, breaking y/n’s heart.” she tried to sound nonchalant, but steve could hear the bitter rage spilling through her words.

he sighed as his chin dipped to his chest, “i-i didn’t mean, or try, to break their heart. i-i just wanted to be realistic with them, and also, you don’t think that hurt me to do? i never want to hurt them, it fucking sucked to see them curl away from me. i-i just want my friend back.” he whispered the last part to himself.

“steve,” robin called his named and he looked over his shoulder to see her book closed and tapping her palm on the table. he slowly pulled the second chair closer and rested his elbows on the table.

robin rubbed both palms over her freckled face, “okay, what i’m about to tell you is doctor patient confidentiality. i will give you the worst haircut if any of this information slips from your mouth, got it?” her blue eyes widen. steve just nodded along, planning to lock away all sharp objects.

“they have liked you since freshman year, so it’s been like four plus years of them just gazing at your passing figure in the hall to now working along side you. they were the first to mention to me how you’ve slowly changed in the last year and a half, from being king douchebag to ice cream sailor. they could not stop gushing about any little interaction the two of you had, dissecting the scene until there was nothing left to inspect. so they came up to me the day after the… incident, with tears welling and wetly laughing as they said, “i think i like him more than i expected. probably just felt my first experience of mild heartbreak.” and i’m pretty sure it was more than mild. so what i’m trying to get at is, they’ll need time to heal, and i’m not sure whatever is going on inside harrington land. but just make sure you properly evaluate and think through before taking any further steps.”

then robin had the gull to leave steve in the back room with his screaming mind and pounding heart, and if things couldn’t get worse, the saloon doors pushed in to show you entering with a bag from hot dog on a stick.

“oh… hey,” hesitant. he saw the way your conversed shoes shifted and bent, debating if you wanted to stay or make a run for it. steve made the decision for you and stood from his seat, “uh, i-i should probably-“

“no, no. stay, if-if you can. i got you some fries, figured you’d be a bit hungry before your actual lunch.” your fingers curled tight around the white paper bag, the crinkling sounding like lightning.

steve was sure he had a bit of a surprised expression on his face, “you-you didn’t have to do that.”

you took robin’s spot while shrugging your shoulders with a twisted smile, “we do it for each other all the time. just thought of you and figured you didn’t eat anything before coming into work.” sliding a cup of medium fries and even a small coke can.

a smile lifted the corners of steve’s lips, “robin’s right.” he noted the way your brows twitched at that, “you’re a saint from heaven meant to be the one good person on this shitty earth.”

“that’s must explain why i get hurt so much.”

steve squeezed his eyes shut, fuck.

#erin’s inbox💌#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x gn!reader

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 3 months ago

Text

personal confessions. [2/3] l Joel Miller

Summary: you met to celebrate, but your conversation took a dangerous turn

Warnings: (+18) smut, some understatements, a few curses, oral sex (m receiving), some kissing, a little bit of angst and fluff, , Sarah mentioned, Tommy is there too

A/N: it took me some time. i'm not completely satisfied, because the last few days have been quite difficult for me mentally. but i created something like this.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[part 1]

"Good morning, ma'am!"

You looked up from your computer and into Tommy's smiling face.

"I see you had a good weekend." You replied, following with your eyes as the man went to the kitchenette to make himself some coffee.

"Yep, definitely!" he replied, sticking his head out and grinning at you. "And you?"

"Rather boring."

Tommy leaned against the door frame and looked at you with a wary gaze. He was completely different from his older brother. You had worked together for a long time, you were used to his style of being and his jokes really amused you, although Joel usually rolled his eyes at him then. But the atmosphere between you was really good, so working for Millers was a pleasure for you.

"Sorry, honey, but you looked like a million bucks last Friday. How on earth did you not manage to pick up anyone?" he asked, lifting the cup of coffee to his lips "If you'd let me..."

The door suddenly slammed and Joel entered, carrying a stack of invoices that he immediately placed on your desk.

"You've already had your coffee." he muttered, glancing at his brother.

"But I haven't had such nice company." Tommy nodded in your direction "Joel, can you imagine, she didn't pick up anyone on Friday? You saw how good she looked. How is that possible?"

"Tommy, please." You groaned, hiding your face in your hands.

"It's none of our business." Joel replied, but he only gave you a quick glance "Besides, she has someone, right?"

Your eyes met for a moment. You hadn't had any contact with him since Friday.

What were you supposed to tell him? You'd been thinking about what had happened between you all weekend, and your pussy was clenching at the mere memory of his fingers inside you. Damn, it hasn't been easy.

"But..."

"Tommy, we really don't have time for this now. We have to go to a client." Joel interrupted him nervously and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "He's already called me twice."

"A package arrived for you. The courier brought it first thing in the morning." You mumbled, pointing to the box standing by the window.

"Great! I'll take it, and you, Tommy, finish your fucking coffee and get down to the car. I'm not waiting for you."

You both jumped when the door slammed again. Tommy took another sip of coffee and cleared his throat.

"Sorry, I don't know what got into him." he said, smiling apologetically. "He's a little nervous."

You waved your hand dismissively and reached for the invoices in front of you. "Don't worry. It's Monday."

You both looked up as a loud honking sound reached your ears.

"He'll kill me someday. Bye!"

The day went by slowly. You buried yourself in invoices, had to answer a few calls and contact a few clients. It wasn't until around lunchtime, when you had to call Joel about a delivery that was supposed to show up at his place of work, that you realized something was wrong.

The familiar sound of the phone ringing echoed through the office. You started picking up more papers and soon you spotted Joel's phone, which he had left on your desk.

"Shit." you hissed.

Joel always had his phone with him. In case it was a client, a supplier or someone from Sarah's school calling. However, the display showed zero new calls, so at least that problem was solved.

Using your phone, you called Tommy, who answered after a few rings.

"Sorry, darling." he sighed. "I had to go to the store in another city. I'll be gone for a few more hours. Maybe you could take it to him yourself, huh? When that grump realizes he doesn't have his phone, he'll be even more unbearable."

"Yeah, I think I'll do that." You mumbled, rubbing your temple with your hand. You weren't sure if you were ready to meet Joel. "Thanks, Tommy."

You threw Joel's phone into your purse and left the office, feeling your stomach tighten.

You saw a familiar car in the driveway of the house and parked nearby. No other cars. It was time for lunch, so the guys who were helping the Millers went out for a meal. Joel clearly preferred to stay put.

"Joel?" your voice echoed through the empty hallway. "It's me. Where are you?"

You heard the echo of footsteps and after a moment you saw a familiar figure at the top of the stairs.

"What are you doing here? Did something happen?" he asked, clearly concerned.

You shook your head and headed up the stairs towards him. "No, you just left your phone in the office. I called Tommy, but he suggested I bring it myself." You pulled out your phone and handed it to him.

"Thanks, you didn't have to."

"I know you, Joel. You'd tear this house apart thinking you'd lost it. If Sarah had called or someone important..."

"Thanks."

He noticed how curiously you were looking around the interior. You were rarely at their place of work, mostly taking care of office matters. Something that scared him and Tommy, and you did it perfectly.

"Would you like to look around?" he asked, your eyes lighting up.

"May I?"

"The guys are at lunch. I just wanted to finish something." he scratched the back of his neck. "C'mon, no one minds."

He led you inside, showing you the bathroom and a couple of bedrooms they were renovating. The smell of wood and paint filled every place, and your footsteps echoed.

Finally, you stopped in the last room, what must have been the master bedroom.

"So..." you began a little hesitantly. "Would you like to talk?"

Joel was visibly avoiding your gaze. "I guess we have nothing to talk about, huh?"

"Oh. I thought..." a cold shiver ran down your spine even though the room was quite stuffy.

Joel folded his arms across his chest, his faded T-shirt tightening more on his broad shoulders. He took a defensive position, it was the safest.

"We had a few drinks last Friday." he began, and with each word that left his mouth, you felt worse and worse. "We got carried away a bit, but I think we should go back to how it was."

"You mean..."

"I'm your boss, you work for me."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "Oh. Ooh!" you snorted. "Somehow this whole boss-employee thing didn't stop you from burying your fingers in my pussy up to the knuckles."

The tips of his ears burned, Joel swallowed hard. This wasn't what he expected. The memory of that evening had haunted him ever since, and this conversation was a nightmare come true.

He was already blaming himself for having too high hopes for you, for what had happened. Meeting you after all that was already awkward enough. And you wanted to talk. So he bounced the ball to your side of the court.

"I thought Jack really missed you." Joel grumbled. "That bouquet was fucking impressive. So, are you back together?"

"No."

Finally, his warm brown eyes looked at you. Something strange flashed in them, his face twitched.

"No?" he repeated after you.

You shook your head. "I didn't lie to you, Joel. It was over and no, not even a fucking impressive, bouquet of flowers would change that."

"I'm sorry." Joel lowered his head, clearly embarrassed. "I thought that..."

“Yeah, I get it.” You shrugged. “See, I did it for myself. That doesn’t mean I wanted to take advantage of you or anything…”

"I didn't think about it that way." he felt more and more embarrassed. "It was our mutual decision, right? We both wanted it. I... I really like you. I think you're an amazing woman..."

You smiled, and a heavy stone fell from his heart. One of your smiles could make his day better, and now he really needed it. The atmosphere clearly lightened.

"I like you too, Joel. And everything I told you back then was true." You approached him slowly, not taking your eyes off him. "I wanted to try, you know. Give it a chance and see where it will take us. Is that stupid?"

He shook his head. "I acted like a dick, didn't I?"

"No, you didn’t. All we had to do was talk."

You were standing so close that he could clearly smell your perfume. A sense of relief filled his heart, as if he was a few pounds lighter. He cleared his throat and finally spoke.

"Would you let me invite you to dinner or something?"

"I'm not sure." you frowned, and his heart beat anxiously "You see, Joel... We still have some unfinished business. And I'd like to give you something back. Something I didn't give you last time."

What business? What were you supposed to give him? His mind was blank.

The face of the girl standing in front of him was unreadable. It was only when your fingers grabbed the buckle of his belt and pulled lightly that he understood. His cock twitched in his jeans, clearly aroused.

"I... You don't have to, sweetie." he mumbled, confused.

"You don't want to?" you seemed so sweet to him when you pout your lips, pretending to be sad.

"Fuck. I dream of nothing else, but..."

He didn't have time to finish, your fingers deftly unbuttoned his belt, and then slid inside, stroking his already hard manhood. Joel sucked in a loud breath through clenched teeth.

"Can I?"

He barely heard the question, but nodded quickly. Strong hands grabbed your face as he kissed you hard, when you lightly slid his jeans down. His hard cock popped out, its tip already shiny and swollen.

Joel wasn't holding you back anymore. He watched as if through a haze as you knelt down in front of him, licked your hand and stroked him gently. A quiet "Fuck!" slipped from between his lips.

You grabbed it confidently, moving your hand up and down. His cock was impressive and a pleasant excitement appeared between your thighs at the thought of how good it would be to feel it inside you. Now, however, you wanted to give him what he deserved.

You licked his tip, then took it into your mouth, sucking lightly. A slightly salty aftertaste filled your mouth. You closed your eyes, pushing it deeper, you didn't even feel when Joel's hand brushed your hair away and held you.

"Wait." he panted. "This is better than what I thought... Fuck."

He needed time. It had been a while since someone had taken care of him like this, he was afraid he would finish sooner than he wanted.

But you seemed to sense it. Your tongue gently stroked his cock as you slid it in and out of your mouth.

Joel's quiet moans filled the room. His hips began to move, slowly so as not to hurt you. When you took him so deep that you felt him at the back of your throat, and your nose touched his lower abdomen, his fingers in your hair tightened.

"Fuck. Fuck..." he panted. "Your mouth will be the death of me, baby... I won't last long."

You moaned quietly, and the vibrations went straight to his core.

You opened your eyes and saw Joel's dark as night gaze. His brows furrowed, his chest heaving violently. He cursed again quietly as your hand grabbed his balls, caressing them.

He was close, you could feel it. His hips pushed his cock into your mouth, but he was still trying not to hurt you. When you choked and tears welled up in your eyes, Joel immediately withdrew.

"I'm sorry, fuck, you feel so good... Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head "No, it's fine. Don't worry about me."

Your lips wrapped around his cock again, and Joel tilted his head back. He didn't need much.

"Shit! I'm gonna come, baby..." he gasped with difficulty "If you don't want to... I have to pull out… Fuck!"

But you didn't pull away. You held him when after a few thrusts you felt a warm spurt in your throat. You swallowed, sliding his cock out of your mouth and licking the tip with your tongue.

Joel was breathing heavily, his dark eyes never leaving your face. He helped you stand up and before you could catch your breath he pressed his lips to yours.

A hot tongue forced itself between your lips, eliciting the filthiest moan that had ever left your throat. He didn't mind the taste of himself on your lips, it was even kind of arousing.

"Fuck, what are you doing to me?" he gasped as he pulled away from you to catch his breath.

"Same thing you're doing to me." you replied, smiling.

The loud chatter coming from the yard quickly brought you back to reality. The workers had returned from lunch. Joel adjusted his pants and you grabbed your purse.

"About dinner..." he began uncertainly.

"We'll be in touch." you replied, and he smiled.

You headed towards the door and were already in the hallway when you saw Tommy in front of you. He was holding the box with the purchased products in his arms and looking at you with wide eyes.

"Ummm... I brought Joel his phone." You said quickly trying to hide your confusion.

"Sure." he replied and his eyes went to your dusty knees.

You just nodded goodbye and quickly went downstairs. Tommy was now looking at his older brother.

"Don't say a fucking word." Joel grumbled running his hand through his hair and trying to hide his embarrassment.

A sly smile appeared on Tommy's lips "That lipstick color really suits you, Joel." he laughed.

Joel rubbed his hand over his mouth and saw the remnants of your lipstick on the back of his hand.

"Not a fucking word." he mumbled taking the box from Tommy "We have work to do."

[part 3]

☆☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist: @wandavisionx

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

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vnti-vnxiety-recs · 1 year ago

Text

Destruction In My Mind 2 (M)

★ PAIRING: Toxic! Stalker! Jaemin, Switch! Jaemin x Reader/Mentions of Reader x Mark

☆ WORD COUNT: 10k

★ GENRE(S): smut, thriller, angst,

☆ SUMMARY: When your relationship spirals out of control with Jaemin, he resorts to kidnapping to keep you all to himself. It's been months since you've been held captive, and Mark is the only one who may be able to uncover the truth of what happened to you.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Toxic relationship, manipulation, swearing, various acts of sexual intercourse, hate sex,unprotected sex, DEATH, GUNS, DARK THEMES, YANDERE, STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, KIDNAPPING. STALKING, BLOOD, VIOLENCE, CAUTION MFER IDK WHAT ELSE TO SAY

☆★ NOTES: (Part 1) I wasn't originally planning on writing a part two to this, but a few people requested it, so I challenged myself to see where I could take the story. Honestly, I don't really enjoy writing about dark themes or angst, but it was interesting. I hope you guys enjoy this, because I'll probably only be sticking to one shot after this.

Today was like every other day for the past few months: dull and unremarkable. It's been months since you last had contact with the outside world. Jaemin would attempt to casually strike up a conversation, like he didn't lock you away in a room away from the rest of the world like an evil stepmother in a fairy tale, except that the very prince who was supposed to save you was the one who locked you away. Ever since Jaemin told you that Mark had stopped by to look for you, you had hoped that maybe someday he would find you, but as the months went on, you began to doubt his efforts. Part of you had actually hoped he would stop searching; you knew it could be dangerous if he got too close.

You would soon learn to trade your silence for forced smiles and fake laughter. Jaemin had promised to leave Mark alone if you entertained his conversations. You hated him. You despised the false compassion he displayed, doting over you when you rejected his meals and insisting you eat something. You hated how he acted sulky when you turned down his offers to watch movies together. You especially hated him for bringing back designer clothes whenever he upset you. What's the point of a designer if there's no one to show them off to?

You think If he wasn't a raging sociopath, he would make a good boyfriend. You could be living your best life if he wasn't easily overtaken by jealousy over the smallest things. Sometimes you indulge yourself in fantasies where he's your sweet boyfriend rather than the monster that imprisoned you.. Reality always hits hard when you find yourself staring at the locked door that keeps you imprisoned.

Some days you hated him to death, and others you found your heart warming up too quickly at the thought of him. It's when he returns from long business trips. Those are the days when your heart is most vulnerable and craves him the most. The day before those long nights away, he would bring you food, filling up your fridge with at least two days worth of food. He bought you every book you had circled from a catalog he brought to you. bringing you anything you requested.

The first time he left you, he even got you a cat to keep you company. When he was away, you would use that time to find an escape, but after hours of prying at your door and window, you would give up. You always end up playing with Luna instead.

After days of being alone with nothing but your thoughts and Luna to keep you company, you would practically crave human contact. On one of those many lonely nights, the thought crept up on you. Maybe this was also a part of his plan; was this a way to break down your defenses as well? If it was, it was working because when you heard the automatic lock to the front door opening and the heavy thud of his bags on the hardwood floor of his highrise condo, you couldn't help but call out to him.

You didn't care about the mind games as you leapt from wherever you were in your room and made your way to your door. He can barely even get it open before you throw yourself into his arms. His smell, his warmth, and his voice all amplified during the time he was away. Those days are the days you melt into him. Those days are the ones you let yourself forget. Those days you let your hands wander. And those days are the same days you go to sleep the most satisfied and wake up the most tormented.

After three days away, Jaemin had returned. You practically threw yourself at him the moment he stepped into your room to check on you. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him passionately, before jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist. You're too preoccupied with pressing yourself against him to notice the cunning smile that kisses your lips. When he doesn't immediately kiss back, you whine into his mouth, and it draws Jaemin back into the moment.

Whatever he was holding clatters loudly against the floor as he drops it in favor of gripping your hips before lowering them to grip your ass. He has you pinned up against the same door he entered as you both hurriedly pull off each other's clothes, laying hot kisses in their wake. You're too impatient to wait any longer, so you haphazardly push his slacks past his hips enough to pull him out of his briefs before you tug your panties to the side. Catching the memo, Jaemin takes over, ripping the crotch of your panties for easier access. You position him at your entrance, and Jaemin thrusts in shallowly. You open your mouth to complain, but Jaemin quickly snaps his hips again. re-entering deeply, effectively shutting you up.

Not a single word has been exchanged since he walked through the door; the only thing filling the room was the harsh slapping of skin and heavy panting as his hips picked up pace. The door soon joined the cacophony of noise as it creaked against its hinges ruthlessly. You came over his length again and again; it was like he was making up for all the days he had left you alone. He didn't stop until he felt your slick heat push him out as you squirted.

The things that happen on the nights you spend with him cause war between the part of you that loves him and that part of you that wants nothing to do with him

You couldn't help but give in to your needs, even though you hated yourself for it. You could never quite reach your peak; your fingers could only take you so far. It didn't help that he would always come to you on those nights in his best suit and sporting his most expensive cologne. He would always tease you, cooing at your wandering eyes as they undressed him. On those nights, he would let you use him until you wore yourself out, leaving him to clean you up. He never stayed the night in your room because he knew that would only make it harder for you in the morning. He knew you hated him for it, but that just made him want you even more.

It felt like a never-ending cycle for you, but lately, even when he wasn't gone, you craved him. He noticed the cracks forming in your hard exterior. He was overjoyed when you started striking up conversations with him, asking him to read a book with you or to play a board game. He hadn't had to beg for your attention lately; he had you exactly where he wanted you.

Or that's what he thought.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Jaemin had entered your room early one morning and gently shook your shoulder to wake you up. You thought he was about to tell you he was leaving on another trip, but instead he sat beside you, petting Luna, while you dragged yourself out of your sheets to sit up properly.

“You've been so sweet to me lately; it got me thinking,” he said. When he stops petting Luna, she leaps from the bed. Your tired eyes follow her as she exits the room through the door.

The open door

Jaemin was never one to leave the door open. He always locked it behind him as he came and went. Jaemin was never one to take chances. Until now, it appears. Your gaze returns to him in anticipation.

"I think you've been locked up in here for too long. You need fresh air…sunlight," he finishes.

He doesn't go on, watching your reaction and testing you with just his words. He waits for you to say something, but you don't. You think you made the right choice because he's smiling now as he continues.

“The house is too big, and it feels lonely sometimes. I was thinking about leaving your door open now so you can roam freely. This house is your home too. I trust you.”

Freely

Being locked in a multimillion-dollar condo above the clouds isn't exactly liberating. You control your reaction. Of course he wasn't going to let you go free; he was probably waiting on you to ask him if he would. You try not to look disappointed in his proposal and return his smile.

“That means a lot, Jaem," is all you can manage as you lean in for a hug, your smile fading the moment he can't see your face.

By free, Jaemin meant limited, which was probably better than what you had. Jaemin's condo was enclosed in large glass windows that let in plenty of light. He also had a sprawling terrace that wrapped around the perimeter of his condo. You were only allowed to spend a maximum of two hours on the terrace with his supervision. You convinced him to buy a hammock and beanbags for you so you could read out there during the summer. You had more room to play with Luna as well. You would run up and down the halls with her toy wand as she chased after you.

This must have been part of his plan to delude you because you almost forgot you were being held captive. You even had access to Jaemin’s room and used his shower from time to time, as it was bigger than the one in your room. It wasn't until he plopped down next to you on the living room couch one evening that you realized how far his trust in you had gone.

He let you know he was going to be gone for the night because he had an overnight business convention he had to attend; he wouldn't be back till morning. It would be his first night away since you were given access to the entire house. He told you the same rules applied and gave you a kiss on the forehead before walking to the front door, where his bags were already waiting, and like always, he leaves without another word.

Just like that, he was gone. You stayed glued to your spot on the couch. He's joking, right? Is this a test? What if he comes back early? A thousand questions are running through your head. YYou do the only thing that comes to mind: you wait. For the first hour, nothing appears out of the ordinary. Another hour passes, and the house remains silent, exactly as he left it. You get up from your seat in the third hour and search the house. You dash for the kitchen; you need a weapon—anything that will give you an advantage.

You searched every cabinet and every drawer, but there was not a knife in sight. You couldn't even find a butter knife. You notice something else is missing just as you close the last drawer. There were no forks either, not even a chopstick. Anything with a sharp point had vanished without a trace. It wasn't until now that you realized that every meal that you were served was pre-cut and prepared. You never even questioned the lack of silverware because you never needed one.

You almost trip over yourself as you hastily make your way to the balcony. You try the handle but realize it's locked. It seemed to have an automatic lock that could only be controlled remotely. Without wasting time, you rush to his office but not a pencil or pen in sight. The bathroom was next, but there was no floss.

You try to calm yourself down, but your frustration with your shortcomings grows. Luna notices your condition and begins to whine and rub herself against your legs in an attempt to comfort you. You don't even notice as tears well up in your eyes and you begin to cry. Luna is gently picked up and cradled in your arms.

“Your daddy is a liar; he doesn't trust me." As you kiss her soft fur, you chuckle bitterly.

In defeat, you make your way back to the living room. You shift your weight to get comfortable on the couch. You're about to re-start the TV when you notice a paper weight on the TV stand beneath it. It's almost hidden among the other trinkets that adorn the surface, but the light from the TV reflects off of it, drawing your attention slightly. You reach for it, and the cool glass warms against your skin. It's a good size and fits comfortably in the palm of your hand. It's a clear glass ball with an angry blue wave frozen in the center, as if captured just before the wave crashed. The wave was at its peak, frozen in time, waiting to crash down, but it never would. In a way, you were just like the angry wave trapped in the glass. You decided this would have to be your weapon. You amble to your room and stuff your makeshift weapon under your pillow. Your spirits were lifted by the minor victory. There was one more thing you wanted to double-check.

There was only one way out of here, technically two, but you don't think Jaemin has enough bedsheets to make a rope that could scale 20 stories. You quickly arrive at the front door and begin to inspect the lock. The lock was identical to that on the balcony door. There was no physical lock to turn to open the door; everything was internal and automatic. The only way to unlock the door was either by the pin code on the outside or, as you guessed, by a phone remotely. He didn't have these locks when you first came to his house.

You take a step back from the door and laugh hysterically as it all begins to make sense. You laugh all the way to your room, where you find the paperweight under your pillow. It was pointless hiding it because he saw.

It was a test.

No sharp items in the house, not even a pencil? All the locks have been changed, and he just so happens to let you out of your room out of the kindness of his heart? Jaemin is not kind, and he's definitely no fool. You were naive to believe that the man who had isolated you in a single room for months and denied you all human contact could possibly trust you. He had to be watching you, and you notice it as you trudge back into the living room. The faint blinking of a red light perched on the high ceiling of Jaemin's highrise. He really was watching you the entire time.

There was no meeting, or maybe there was; at this point, you couldn't trust his word. This was all a test to see if your “good behavior” would last. And just like the naive fool you were, you fell right into his trap.

“I know you're watching me, Jaemin! I'll kill you! I fucking hate you. Do you hear me? I fucking hate you!” You scream and scream at the blinking light until your voice is raw, but the camera doesn't respond; it just blinks mockingly at you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

You awaken to sunlight hitting your face as you stir awake. You must have screamed yourself to exhaustion last night and fallen asleep on the couch. You move to sit up when the cool glass of the paper weight knocks against your skin. You were clutching onto your “weapon” all night, waiting for Jaemin to show up. From your vantage point on the couch, you looked around the apartment, but there was no sign of him The house was as silent as ever. Just as you're about to get up and search the rest of the house, you hear the mechanical gears of the locks on the front door unlocking. You perk up and grab your paper weight, arming yourself as best you can. You wait for Jaemin to walk through the door, but he doesn't.

In your confusion, you slowly make your way off the couch and towards the door. You approach it with caution, expecting him on the other side. You raise your weapon into the air, ready to swing down and strike whoever is on the other side. You swung open the door, but no one was there. In fact, the corridor was unusually quiet. You shuffle out into the hallway, your hair sticking up in all directions, armed only with a paper weight. Real intimidating.

“Jaemin?” You call hesitantly. No response.

You don't care if it's a test, and you don't care if he's watching. This was the closest you have ever gotten to escaping the 3000 square feet you've been confined to. You're booking it down the hall until you reach the next door, and you beat your first against it, calling for help. You're making all the noise you possibly can with whatever voice you have left from screaming all night. No answer, so you move on to the next door. You pound on every door in the corridor, but no one answers. You scream for help as you reach the final door on your floor. You pound on the door mercilessly until you hear a noise from the other side..

“Yes! hello!? Please open the door! I've been kidnapped and i-” you begin, but your begging stops as the door opens, revealing the owner of the condo.

“You’ve been kidnapped? No sweety, what you've been is naughty” Jaemin coos from his spot in the open door.

“Wha-what?” You can't breathe.

So much is happening, Too much is happening, and None of it makes sense as your head spins.

“You silly thing," Jaemin says, casually leaning against the doorframe, ”you know they told me when I had these built that the walls were too thin. I didn't think it would come back to bite me in the ass though,” Jaemin mockingly knocks on the wall closest to you. The hollowness mockingly echoes back at you.

“I don't understand,” you manage.

“I own this building, princess. Everyone on this floor,” he says, taking a step closer.

“the floor below us,” one step closer

“and the floor above us has been relocated.” He stares down at you coolly. “I didn't know how much of a fight you were going to put up, so I moved everyone out a month after I locked you up,” he whispers tauntingly.

"Funny enough, the only screaming you did up until now was when I was-” you turn away before he can finish, humiliated. This whole time, you played right into his hands.

“No point in running, princess; nowhere to go," he laughs.

You ignore him, swiping at the tears that threaten to run down your face. You storm back to his apartment, knowing he's not far behind you because you can hear his footsteps as he follows. He's right, there is nowhere to go, but right now you need to go anywhere he is not. You slam the door in his face angrily when you make it to the apartment, but he catches it and makes his way in behind you.

“You really want to make this worse on yourself, don't you?” he says before reaching for your arm to turn you towards him. The moment you feel his hand enclose around your elbow, you spin on your heels and strike him with the paper weight.

You drop it the moment you realize what you have done. You were angry, you were scared, and you were frustrated with his mind games, but you had no intention of actually hurting him. You acted out of rage; you weren't thinking clearly. You can only stare in disbelief as blood drips from his brow. His head is still slightly bowed from the blow, and he stumbles a little. Blood continues to drip down onto the floor.

"Jaem, I-I didn't mean to; I just-” You didn't know how to finish your sentence.

He finally lifts his head and looks at you, blood dripping into his eye.

“You want to hurt me?"

"No, Jaem i-”

"That's it, isn't it baby? I give you everything, and this is how you repay me."The way he speaks to you holds no warmth as he wipes at the blood staining his perfect skin.

“I didn't," he says, wrapping his bloodied hand around your throat, gripping harshly as he pushes you into the wall. He leans into you, barely a breath away. You almost expect him to kiss you, but instead he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“You want to kill me? then do it right.” The next thing you know, he's pushing away from you and releasing your neck. He bends down and picks up your paper weight. He takes your hand in his and places the paper weight in your palm once more.

“Do it.” He stares you down patiently, waiting for your next move. You shake your head as tears roll down your face freely.

“DO IT!” he yelled this time. You cry even harder and shakily throw the paper weight at his chest. You look pathetic, trembling in front of him.

“You want to hurt me, right baby? You want to leave me so bad? Well, the only way you're gonna leave is if you kill me, so do it!” Jaemin spits angrily.

“I won't," you cry.

“And why not?” Jaemin waits for your answer.

“Because I'm not like you!” you yell angrily, pushing at his chest. You pound on his firm chest, your cries becoming weaker with each blow. Jaemin waits for you to relax before grabbing your chin. Jaemin waits for you to calm down before he grabs your chin.

“No, that's not why pretty.” jaemin tuts.

He grips the back of your hair and drags you to the living room's floor-length mirror. He forces you to look at yourself in the mirror. You stare at yourself in the mirror. Your disheveled hair and tear-stained face stare back. Your eyes rake farther down your face until they reach your neck. You gasp in shock.

Right there, sitting prettily against your neck, was a bloody handprint. His bloody handprint possessively stains the skin of your neck. You can almost still feel the ghost of his touch in its wake. Jaemin's other hand trails up your body until he reaches your neck, fingers barely grazing the marks he left, afraid to ruin his work.

“You don't want to hurt me baby, because you're scared to be without me, hmm?” He teasingly whispers in your ear. “You love me, and you don't want to leave me; I can prove it too. I'll tell you a secret."

He breathes down your neck as he turns you towards him and away from your reflection in the mirror.

“Down the hall on the left; there's an emergency staircase; if you take that down, it will lead you right out of here.” He kisses each fingerprint left on your neck slowly so as not to disturb the mark he's left on you. When he's finished, he takes a step back and looks at you, waiting for you to make a move. Your lips quiver, and more tears fall, but you remain still.

“That's my girl,” Jaemin mumbles to himself before kissing you.

You can't do anything but cry harder, but you return his eagerness because he's right. He's right, and you hate him because, just like the handprint on your neck, he's got you in a chokehold. Your hatred seeps into the way you return his kiss. And grip at his hair as he lifts you onto his hips to carry you back into your room. You bite and tug at his lip, none too gently, as you kiss him. As Jaemin enters the room, he "accidentally" bumps your head against the door frame.

"You did that on purpose, asshole." You groan in pain.

“When have we ever played nice princesses?” he smirks before throwing you down onto the bed, making your head hurt even more as you bounce roughly against the mattress.

He's crawling towards you on the bed. You're not done being a brat, so you kick at his chest and shoulder, pushing him away from you. You refuse to make this easy for him, but he just grabs your ankle, pulling you towards him.

“You wanna brat out?"

“When have I ever played nice?” You use his words against him as you struggle more.

He pecks your lips hesitantly, knowing you like to bite, before kissing you deeply, prying your legs apart to settle between them. Just as he expected, you bite into his lip again, but he suddenly grinds deep into you, and you let out a choked moan. You push at his shoulder and try to close your legs to push him away. You were soaking through your panties already, and you knew he would be able to feel it soon. You were wet the moment you saw how pretty his handprint looked painted against your skin. You try to turn away from him and shake your head away from the kiss.

“I hate you,” you mumble against his teeth.

"I know,” he says, kissing your neck.

“You disgust me.” You try again.

“That right?” He slips a hand between your legs, patting against the seat of your panites.

“Because you're soaking princess,” he states, and you can hear the wet sound his fingers make as they make contact with your core.

You're mortified. You try to push him away again, but he grabs your hands with his free hand and pins them above your head. Resting his forehead against yours, you can feel the blood on his forehead begin to grow cold and sticky as it dries from the initial blow. He shushes you gently as he slips his fingers past your panties and into your core.

“Listen to how wet you are baby; I'm the only one who could make you feel like his,” he coos as he fucks you onto his fingers.

“Your all fucking mine, you hear me?” He kisses you again, swallowing your moans while he curls his fingers up into you.

"My fucking pussy,” he mumbles as he licks into your mouth.

“Fuck…you” you gasp in between moans. He releases you as he pulls off completely.

“I've been too good to you, but I forgot sluts like you need to be taught manners.” He stands at the edge of the bed before grabbing your ankles again and pulling you down the bed, flipping you over onto your stomach. He pulls your hips off of the bed until your feet are planted on the floor and your upper body is still bent over the bed. He pulls your hands behind your back and holds them there as he delivers a harsh slap to your ass.

"I spoil you too much; that's the problem. Think I won't ruin you?” He presses your arms into your back as a signal to keep them there before he lets them go. He pulls your bottoms off along with your panties and slips his fingers back inside your warm cunt.

"Greedy cunt. Swallowing me so easily. Uh-uh baby, you weren't going anywhere,” you can't see, but he has to bite his lip to hold in the moan that threatened to spill out as you practically dripped down fingers.

He pistons his fingers in and out of you quickly until you're a babbling mess and your thighs begin to shake before he's pulling them out and leaving wet slaps against your cunt. He forces you to count them each time he pulls out and lands another hit against your abused core.

"Don't you dare mess up or else your starting over,” he would threaten when you would stumble over your next number.

"12...13...14...15..." you would count each time he meanly slapped your pussy until he would shove his fingers back inside you. He'd fuck you with his fingers until you're shaking all over again. It wasn't until you got to 20 that he let up.

“I'll ask again, who do you belong to?” you pass the point of comprehensible words as tears run down your face again.

“Don't make me repeat myself,” Jaemin says as he yanks your head up from its place buried in the covers.

"You,” you cry as shivers run down your body.

“And who does this pussy belong to?"

“Nana!” you sniffle.

“That's right, baby.” He releases your hair, and you fall back into the sheets.

“Are you ready to be Nana's good girl now?" He mumbles as he kisses the back of your head.

You nod pathetically.

"Are you sorry for hurting Nana?"

You nod pathetically again.

“Get up there then,” Jaemin slaps you ass as he signals for you to climb back into the bed.

You plop down tiredly at the head of the bed and watch as Jaemin strips himself of his clothes. You think he's going to reclaim his position in between your legs as he climbs back into bed, but he chooses to lie beside you instead.

“Show me how good you are,” he says as he throws your leg over his hip and manhandles you until you're sitting on his waist.

“I can't—please, I can't."

He raises a brow at you, and you know better than to argue, so you lift your hips and sink onto him. He slips inside easily, and he's gripping your hips as he helps you ride him.

“There you go-fuck,” he moans as you lean onto his chest for leverage and begin to throw your hips the way you know he likes.

He looks up at you pathetically, chest heaving, as you ride him just like you did all those nights before. In these moments, he knows you need him just as much as he needs you, and it drives him insane. His arms lay uselessly beside him as he gripped the sheets at the rough pace you chose. You look down at him as the power dynamic starts to change. You knew if you rode him hard enough, he'd start begging like a useless slut. It was moments like these in which you had any control over him. You can feel anger begin to bubble up in your chest at the thought. You despise how weak he made you.

Before you know it, you feel your hands travel from his chest up to his neck as you steal the breath from his lungs. You grip tight as you watch as his eyes begin to roll, and if the way he white knuckles your hips isn't sign enough that he's close, his heaving chest and insistent whines are.

“Your so… such a…fuck.” He struggles, “Good girl,my good-”

He can barely complete a full thought. You're so close, and you're just about to finish when suddenly you're on your back looking up at the ceiling. Your mind is still trying to catch up as you feel nothing but deep harsh thrust s as his hips slam into you. The quick pace creates a fog in your mind and all you can do is take it. You finally meet Jaemin’s eyes and he's completely gone. The power dynamic has been switched again and it was right before you could even finish your fun. Jaemins eyes are hazy as he shivers with each thrust. He leans down to place messy kisses into your mouth that end in him panting against your lips. Still upset that he ended your turn so soon, you wrap your legs around his waist as you drive your hips up into his, meeting his thrust.

Jaemin shakes his head as he attempts to pin your hips back down into the mattress. You challenge him with a nod as you tighten your hold, fucking against him harder. It was just fucking; there was no making love anymore. You're both in a fight for control as you feel your high approach. Soon you're both drunk off the other as you grab, push, and tug at each other selfishly in an attempt to get off. Thrusts have grown sloppy and wild as you arch your back into the sheets when the cord in your belly finally snaps. Your legs finally grow weak as they fall pathetically from around his hips. Jaemin groans at the feeling, and after a few more aggressive shoves of his hips, he's spilling into you. He pulls back to watch as his love seeps out of your abused cunt. He pushes it back in,and the last thing you see before sleep takes you is how he licks his fingers clean at your combined taste.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Mark vowed to never give up. People told him how ridiculous he was for trying so hard to find someone he only worked closely with for such a short time. For some reason, Mark still felt indebted to you. You did so much for him when he broke his leg and showed him and everyone that you worked with so much kindness; you didn't deserve this. So he never stopped looking.

When Mark learned you had quit your job, he knew something was wrong. You definitely would have reached out to him about it. Not to mention, when he went to check your social media to see if you had updated or hinted at a new job, he found that they had all been deleted. He even did some digging to find your old apartment complex, but when he inquired about you with your old landlord, he was given the cold shoulder.

It was like you were wiped off the face of the planet. His only lead was Jaemin, but it was almost impossible to get close to the guy. Mark was sure Jaemin had something to do with your disappearance; he just had to prove it. He couldn't do this on his own, and there was only one other person he could ask.

Every day for a week, Mark would press Jaehyun to hear him out. He tried every guilt trip, bribe, and threat in the book, but Jaehyun wouldn't budge. Jaehyun had recently gotten promoted a few months after coming back to the office after his wreck. He would use his hectic schedule as an excuse to blow off Mark.

"Dude, please just talk to me; I just need one thing.” Mark begged early in the morning.

“Keep it down; I'm not talking about this right now." Jaehyun sternly reprimanded him.

Mark looked over his shoulder before pushing Jaehyun into an empty conference room.

“You're the only one who can get close to him; you were literally promoted into his department. I just need you to get in close to find out some information.”

“She’s gone. Let it go, for all we know he could have-” Jaehyun pauses. "Listen, drop it; I've already warned you.” Jaehyun huffs frustratedly.

“We won't know until we dig deeper!” Mark argues, “Look, your department just exceeded the projected goal for the year, right? All you have to do is convince your team to host a party at his place in celebration. I don't know; just get in and see if anything is off.” mark pleads

Jaehyun doesn't reply, but Mark takes his silence as a sign to continue.

“The whole department will be there if you sneak off; no one will notice. Once he becomes CEO, you're next in line to take over that department. It would be weird to exclude you, so you would have to go.”

A few beats pass, and Jaehyun sighs in defeat.

“Fine, I'll see what I can do.” Jaehyun breathes.. Just before Mark can celebrate, he continues, “But if nothing comes up, you drop this, alright?” jaehyun bargains

“I promise, I'll drop it.” Mark raises his hands in surrender.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

For the next two weeks, Jaehyun would slip the idea into casual conversations and subtly mention that the department's hard work deserved a celebration. Every now and then, a coworker would suggest going out to drink, but Jaehyun would decline, instead proposing a private party.

“But I mean, who has enough space for that, right?” Jaehyun would joke before another one of his co-workers jumped in to mention Jaemin’s huge condo.

“We should get Jaemin to host it; I heard he's getting a few floors of his building renovated so we wouldn't have to worry about noise.” Seojun added

"Yeah, he always treats us to drinks; I doubt he would mind taking the party to his house this time,” someone else chimes in.

Jaehyun got the entire department talking about it and even got Jaemin’s grandfather to back the idea. As the CEO, he said it would raise morale and show the employees how important they are to the company. He said that once Jaemin became the CEO, he would understand the importance of showing gratitude to his employees. That's how Jaemin was cornered into hosting a cocktail party the following week.

Jaemin mentioned it casually to you, saying you wouldn't be able to come out that night. He'd block off that side of the house, and the party would be hosted mainly on the highrise terrace. You counted the days until the party. If there was any chance of getting someone's help, it would be then.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

It was the night of the party, and all you could do was press your ear against the wall and listen in on the conversations. You were curious about who showed up; would Mark be there? It was a company party, according to Jaemin. Did that include every department? As you backed away from the door, you huffed in frustration; the voices were too muffled to make out. You wanted to scream for help, but Jaemin warned you against it before he shut you in your room hours before.

You pace your room anxiously. Even Luna got to attend the party! Jaemin said it was because she was well-behaved, unlike you.

It isn't long before Jaemin comes in to check up on you. He slips into the room quickly before shutting the door behind him. He must not be staying for long, because you notice he doesn't bother to lock it.

“I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you some appetizers from the party.” Jaemin smiles as he hands you a plate of assorted sliders.

"Thanks; I was getting a little hungry.” You laugh nervously as you take the plate from him.

“Is everything okay?" He asked curiously.

It's now or never. You only needed a second, and you had to think fast.

"Actually, I was trying to take a shower, but the facets stuck in the bathroom. Could I take a bath in your room?” You pout at him.

“We have company princess; you'll have to wait." he replies

"Then, can you see if you can turn the knob?” You ask, putting your plate down and gesturing for him to follow you to the bathroom.

He makes a sound of acknowledgement as he follows you to the tub. You stand by the door to the bathroom as he walks past you to inspect the shower. When he's not looking, you quietly turn the lock on the bathroom door. You know it would only stop him for a second, but that's all you needed; you just needed to get in earshot of the party and scream for help.

The shower knob turns easily in his hand, and the shower sputters to life. Just as he looks up at you in confusion, you grip the handle to the bathroom door and shut it behind you as you sprint across your room for the door. Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear him pull against the door to the bathroom. The lock keeps him locked in for a few seconds before he realizes you locked it. You're already out of the room as the lock on the door clicks open. You run down his long hallway, and you turn the corner into the living room. You can see the terrace from where you stand, and it seems as though everyone is outside as they bustle around a table, chatting and drinking as the night continues. You run into someone before you can take another step, their drink clatters to the ground and you look up.

“JAEHY- '' He covers your mouth before you can continue and pushes you back into the hallways, out of view from the balcony. It isn't until you can't be seen that he uncovers your mouth.

"Jaehyun, please, you have to help me." You continue your rambling; you don't even realize he's still pushing you back towards the way you came. “Jaemin is crazy, and he's keeping me here against my will and-” You hit a familiarly firm chest.

“And?” The voice behind you speaks.

All you could do was look up at Jaehyun with hurt and confusion.

“I'm sorry” was all he said before you slung over Jaemin's shoulders and carried back towards your room as Jaehyun followed. You're too stunned to speak.

Just as quickly as you left, you find yourself locked back in your room along with a new guest.

Once your shock wears off, it doesn't take you too long to put two and two together.

“All along… You're working together.” You don't even question it.

"Well, not all along,” Jaemin points out. “His accident was on purpose, but after seeing how obedient he was afterwards, I thought he might be useful."

“He offered me a promotion, and in exchange, I had to make sure the people in the office didn't get suspicious.” Jaehyun interjected, “It was easy until Mark came back; he really doesn't know how to give up.” Jaehyun finishes.

“What is wrong with you? You were my friend!” You yell incredulously. “You sick freak, I thought I knew you!"

You wanted to cry, but you refused to show any more weakness. You would never forgive him for this, and you would never forgive either of them. You wouldn't allow your heart to falter any longer. You despised Jaemin.

“You've made quite the scene, princess." jaemin tsks “We better be getting back to the party, princess, or our guests will wonder where we went. I'll deal with you later, '' Jaemin smirks. He leads Jaehyun out of your room and closes the door behind him.

You're left with your thoughts once again. Jaehyun's betrayal left a gaping hole in your heart. You would never expect him to do something like this; granted, you would have said the same thing about Jaemin. You can only hope that Mark won't let you down.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Mark stops looking. That Monday after the party, Jaehyun told Mark that nothing was out of the ordinary. There was no sign of anyone else living there, and Jaemin acted normally. With no further leads, Mark decided it was probably for the best to let it all go. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe you did just get a new job and quit. Whatever the reason, Mark hoped you were alright wherever you were.

If only he would have kept digging.

If he had kept prying, he would have found out that later that month, Jaemin moved out of his condo and into a small, inconspicuous house on the outskirts of the city. If he had asked around, he would have found out that one of the guests at the party had seen a glimpse of you as you bumped into Jaehyun, but they would later “quit” as well.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

It's been a year since you moved into the new house with Jaemin. Jaemin had decided to move you guys out because of Mark's insistent poking. He also wanted to be farther from the city,less people to worry about. You have lost all hope. You had no fight left in you. What was the point when Jaehyun was right? Who would come looking for you at the CEO of the country's largest corporation’s house?

After the move, Jaemin’s grandfather had been riding his ass even harder about preparing to take over the company, and because of that, he's rarely home. It wasn't until recently that the title was officially handed over. You start to wonder why Jaemin even keeps you around anymore. He's grown far too busy for you now. Some nights, the thought keeps you up. What if the only reason you're still here is because he hasn't found the time to get rid of you yet? Jaemin had gotten two more cats to keep you company, hoping that would make up for his absence.

Sometime in passing, Jaemin mentioned that tonight a gala would be held to celebrate his promotion and commemorate the start of a new era for the company. The entire company would be there; it wasn't an event that he could miss. Once again, he dons his finest suit, wears his most expensive cologne, and styles his hair up away from his forehead. Jaemin always looked the best like this, but your heart didn't beat for him the same way anymore. Your anger and frustration towards him outweigh any feelings you have left for him. He leaves again for the umpteenth time this week without bidding you farewell.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

It was Mark's first time attending an event of this caliber. The company had rented out a large convention center for the occasion, and it was decorated beautifully. There was a main room with a walking platform near the front that had a podium and screen. That must be where Jaemin would give a speech later. In the room across from it were the food and refreshments, and there was a clear area for dancing and socializing.

He'd been there an hour and Jaemin still hadn't delivered his speech. He spent the majority of his time conversing with various department heads and socializing with coworkers in his own department. He ate from the refreshments table when he wasn't catching up with someone. He had no idea someone had been watching him all night.

When it came time for Jaemin's speech, the party moved to the main room. The lights had been dimmed, and the screen behind the podium displayed various slides of stocks and other information related to the leadership change. It was the first time he'd seen Jaemin all night. As he climbed onto the stage and took the podium, everyone applauded and cheered. Jaemin started his speech, and he was as charming as ever. While everyone was focused on his speech, Mark felt a buzz in his back pocket. Wanting to remain professional in a business setting, he ignored it. It wasn't until the second buzz came through insistently that he decided to slip his phone out of his pocket and check the notification.

There were two unread messages from a private number.

You can find what you've been searching for 1942

(Address attachment)

Mark's breath caught in his throat. Was this a new lead after a year of silence? His brain was telling him to ignore it, be respectful, and put his phone away, but his instincts were telling him this would lead him right to you. He was curious how you were doing after all this time. He feels like he's done nothing but let you down all this time. Not anymore; he wouldn't do it again. The next thing he knows, he's pushing through the crowd to make his way to the exit. As he rushes out, he attracts the attention of a few people, one of whom is Jaemin.

Jaemin was finishing up his speech when Mark left. He had tried to walk down the stage as swiftly as possible without causing a scene. Once he was down from the stage, he had tried to immediately catch up to Mark; he knew something was up, but he was stopped by his grandfather.

“I'm so proud of you son; you're finally stepping up like I knew you always could,” he praises.

“Thank you sir,” Jaemin says humbly, shaking his grandfather's hand.

“Come on now son, enough of the formalities! I've already given you the title of CEO.” The elder laughs joyfully.

“Right grandpa,sorry. It was nice catching up, but I have to go."Jaemin tries to slip away again but is stopped by his grandfather who claps a proud hand on his shoulder.

“Nonsense! The night has only just begun. I have some business partners I want to introduce you to,” his grandpa says, successfully trapping him. His grandfather leads him away from the exit and back into the crowd. Jaemin can only grit his teeth as he's pulled further and further away from his exit.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Mark speeds through the dead of the night to get to the unknown address; he knows he only has so much time. He didn't know where the address would lead him, but as he pulled into the driveway and spotted Jaemin's car, which looked way out of place, parked in the driveway of a small house in a suburban neighborhood, he knew exactly where he was. This heightened his sense of urgency.

The only conclusion that Mark could draw was that Jaemin must have moved because he was hiding something. After all this time, Mark might finally find you. It's not until he's at the front door that he realizes he has no way in. He looks down at the lock on the door. It's an automatic pin code lock that requires a 4-digit code. Mark quickly pulls his phone from his pocket as he reads the message again.

You can find what you've been searching for 1942

He enters the only numbers he sees on the screen, and the door flashes green as the lock clicks open. He tentatively opens the door, slipping through quietly and closing it behind him. He walks down a corridor, and as he nears the end, he hears the sound of a television. Before turning the corner, he can see the light spilling into the corridor.

“You're here early, what? They realize how crazy you were and that you weren't a good fit for the company."A voice jokes harshly.

There you were, sitting on the couch watching TV in your pajamas, lazily stroking a cat as it purrs in your lap. Mark was relieved you were safe; honestly he had expected you to be in worse shape. He should have known Jaemin would spoil you while in captivity.

"Y/N?” he says hopefully.

You jump at the sound, causing Lucy, one of Jaemin's new cats, to leap from your lap. You slowly turn your head, not believing your ears until your eyes confirm what you've heard.

“M-mark?” you whisper.

When you call his name, all the air in his lungs escapes . It's been over a year since he's heard your voice. Your eyes well up with tears as you leap over the couch to embrace him. You're immediately engulfed in his arms. You take in his comforting scent and cry even harder.

“I looked for you for so long, and the entire time you were right under my nose, I knew I should have never given up.”

“What took you so long? I was waiting for you,” you choke out as you hug him tighter.

“I had a hunch Jaemin might be up to it, and I had someone look into it. They didn't find anything and said I should drop it. I thought maybe you really did just move away.”

“Who told you that?” you ask. Whoever looked didn't do a thorough job, because, alas, here you were.

“Jaehyun,” Mark says, and it all makes sense.

“Jaehyun is a traitor! I was so close to getting out, and he helped Jaemin catch me during a stupid dinner party!” you explain

Mark remains silent for a moment, almost as if he doesn't believe it. He needs to shake it off; there are more pressing matters at hand.

“Catch me up later; we have to leave before Jaemin gets back.” Mark rushes as he goes to grab your hand. You're about to leave when you notice a figure standing in the corridor.

“Too late,” Jaemin says, announcing his presence.

“Let her go Jaem."

Jaemin points a gun at Mark before he can finish his sentence. Stunned, you both take a staggering step back. Mark shields you behind him.

“You're not taking her anywhere,” Jaemin says a little too calmly.

"Jaemin, put down the gun seriously. Let's just talk it out.” You try, but he holds up an irritated hand at you.

“Be quiet. Time and time again, I've forgiven you, but you never learn. I'll deal with you next,” he says. “Right now it's me and him; you stay out of it.”

Mark pushes you away, and you take the hint, stepping back away from the conflict. Jaemin circles Mark, his weapon still drawn as he berates him.

“You just never knew how to give up. You're lucky I'm a man of my word, or else I would have killed you a long time ago." jaemin snarls

Mark stays silent as his eyes track Jaemin's every move. Mark knew he had to be careful; he had trained in weapon disarming, but that was only for a few days. He knew fighting back would greatly increase the odds of losing his life, but he had to do what he could. When Jaemin took a step closer, Mark jumped into action. Mark moves to grab Jaemin at the wrist; he maneuvers the gun so it's pointed away from him as he grabs it and spins it away. Jaemin fights back against the motion and attempts to take control of the gun again. Both fight for the weapon, but in the effort to gain control, the gun slips from their grasp and clatters noisily against the hardwood. You make a move for it, but Mark reprimands you.

“Stay back! It's dangerous!” he warns.

In that split second that he looked away, Jaemin gains the upper hand and gets him in a chokehold. Jaemin is relentless, and Mark is struggling to flee. You can only cry out as you see the fight slowly leave Mark. He's on his last breath before a force pushes them both to the ground. They fall over onto the glass table that sits in the middle of the room and shatters under their weight. They roll in agony attempting to get back up off of the broken glass but stay down. You look up towards the figure that pushed them and you meet face to face with Jaehyun wielding the gun that was discarded earlier. Mark is the first one to notice the new threat. Jaehyun once again has the gun pointed at him.

“Jaehyun please!” you beg

“Jaehyun, do it! Shoot him if you want to keep your position!” Jaemin coughs weakly, still fighting to pull himself up from the glass shards.

All Mark can do is shake his head, pleading silently with his eyes.

“DO IT!” jaemin yells

Jaehyun pulls the trigger, and you close your eyes as the shot rings harshly through the small house. Soon after you hear a thud, your knees feel weak, and you slip down the wall as you cry. You don't bother to raise your head at the footsteps that approach you. You don't care what happens to you at this point. You're ready for it to just be over.

A gentle hand rests on your shoulder, and another caresses your face.. You open your eyes at the touch, and marks equally as teary ones stare back at you. You gasp in shock as your eyes trail to the other set looking at you. Jaehyun stares back apologetically before he lowers his head in shame. You throw yourself into Mark's arms again, and he groans in pain. You release him immediately, and he laughs.

“Its ok. Just a little sore after being thrown into a table is all,” he says sarcastically as he eyes Jaehyun jokingly.

“Sorry man, I didn't know what else to do." jaehyun apologizes

“What's going on, Jae? I thought you were helping Jaemin." You say in disbelief.

“I had a change of heart; Mark was right. I did nothing but turn my back on you when all you did was show me kindness. It kept me up at night. "Jaehyun grimaced in regret.

“Were you the one who sent the text earlier?” mark inquired

“What text?” you ask.

“It's how I found you." mark answers

“I thought you might be able to handle it, but Jaemin was able to slip out of the venue earlier than expected, so I came just in case." jaehyun explains

At the sound of his name, you pull yourself up onto your feet. If the mark is in front of you, that means the one Jaehyun shot was...

As you look over at the shattered glass table, a fresh wave of tears starts up as you inspect the scene. Jaemin's body is bleeding out over the glass shards. They twinkle red in the light of the room, and like always, he looks beautiful. The glass crunches under your feet as you walk closer. You don't even wince at the pain as you kneel next to him. He looks at you silently as ragged breaths wrack his chest. A weak hand raises to reach for you, but it falls. You grab it and interlace your fingers; you despise him. You wanted to despise him, but as he took his last breaths, you couldn't bring yourself to. You did love him in a sick, twisted way. Even when your heart was filled with nothing but rage, hurt, and frustration, a small part of you still loved him. You secretly wished for a normal life with Jaemin. That's what compelled you to lean in and kiss him one last time. You kiss him gently, and when you pull away, his eyes are closed dreamily, as if he was sleeping, but you knew. Jaemin was still and quiet, but above all, he was beautiful as he lay there, and that's how you would always remember him. You were pulled up and away by Jaehyun and Mark. You grabbed a few of your things, and you left.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

The police wasted no time investigating the death of the newly appointed CEO. It was initially classified as a break-in, but that was later debunked, given that nothing was stolen. They went on to believe that his death was premeditated, and that someone in the company was jealous of him for his new position, but everyone seemed to adore him, and his grandfather revealed that he would not have chosen anyone else to run the company in his place. The police were also unable to locate the murder weapon, which made their job even more challenging.

After a few months of investigating, the case was closed and dismissed due to insufficient evidence. Jaemin's grandfather was livid and sued the city, but you're not sure what came of that. You started over in a new city. You and Mark started seeing each other and took in Jaemin's three cats. Jaehyun continued his position at the company, and despite the fact that you never heard from him, he seemed to keep in touch with Mark. You believe he was protecting Mark in his own way by telling him to give up on searching for you.

It would take you a very long time to truly heal from what happened, and sometimes your heart would still ache for Jaemin, but you would overcome it. You were sure that with marks by your side, you could overcome anything.

#jaemin smut #jaemin fic #jaemin #jaemin scenarios #jaemin imagines #jaemin x reader #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct smut #nct fic #nct #nct u #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fanfic #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader

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thezombieprostitute · 4 months ago

Text

Tech Tuesday: Bucky Barnes

Summary: After your mother's death, you're adjusting to life with your autistic younger brother. Thankfully Bucky, your most regular customer, can brighten your day.

Warnings: Caretaker stress, Insecurities, Mentions of death. Let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

Part 2

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

"I know it's a bit unusual," Bucky begins as he sips his coffee. "But we've got an office Halloween party and I could use your help."

"My help?" you say giving an incredulous look.

"My buddy, Steve," Bucky raises an eyebrow and you nod, confirming you remember the name. "He's trying to get this girl's number but he hasn't had a lot of luck."

"If she says 'no' I'm not helping him," you warn.

Bucky is quick to assure, "no, no, no, it's not like that! They're both very clearly into each other but also very awkward."

"Ah, okay. I trust you, but I hope you understand if I need to see it for myself?"

"Absolutely, 100%," he nods.

"Is it a costume party?"

"Yeah, but they're pretty loose on what counts as a costume," Bucky rubs the back of his head. "Every time I've gone Steve and I have just put on each other's badges and gone as each other."

Smiling at the pink in his cheeks you tell him, "so I could just show up in my work outfit and no one will really know the difference?"

"Sure," he confirms.

"Thanks, that'll save me some money. I'll start letting Robby know about it, but I reserve the right to cancel at the last second if he needs me to stay home."

Bucky smiles, "of course. And thank you, so much! Steve needs all the help he can get."

"What are friends for?" you smile, hiding the fact that you wish this could be a date.

The day of the party you're doing all of your last-minute checks. Robby said he was looking forward to having the apartment to himself for a change and trying it out. You had to admit, it was a good test for him to maybe, someday live without relying on you. Everyone agrees it's too soon since your mother's death, but you're quick to tell Robby how proud you are of him for being willing to try being on his own, even if it's just for less than a night. It's a break in routine, something he's not always good with.

Bucky was waiting for you as you clocked out. He'd agreed to meet you at the cafe so he could walk you to the office. The plan is for him to drive you home whenever you need him to. He smiles as he sees you and your heart flutters a bit. It's just not fair how handsome he is.

"So what's your costume?" you ask, trying to distract yourself.

He pulls out a Detroit Lions cap and puts it on, "I'm a Lions fan!"

"I thought they were extinct," you laugh.

"Hence why it's a costume!"

"I love it," you giggle. You're genuinely grateful for the laugh. Bucky's smile widens as you laugh. He hasn't seen you so happy in a while and the butterflies in his stomach pick up.

Once inside the office building a short woman, dressed as Buttercup of the Powerpuff Girls, sitting behind the security desk asks you to sign in and show your ID. You smile at the teddy bear she has on her desk, though you can't make out what its shirt says.

At the party Bucky is quick to find Steve who is wearing a leather jacket and aviator sunglasses. You're quickly introduced as "Sweetie" which is, apparently, the nickname Bucky and Steve have ascribed in their discussions of you. As much as you want to be upset that he's chosen such a nickname, you're also flattered that he's talked about you so much. You try not to think it's because he likes you, after all, look at how much he talks about Steve.

"So, Steve, are you here on your own?" You try not to sound too rehearsed. Bucky and you have been practicing some ideas for helping Steve build up the courage to ask a girl out, but the two of you need to be careful that Steve doesn't pick up on it.

Steve's cheeks turn pink, "yeah, I'm afraid so."

"You could change that," Bucky pokes. "Newbie's over by the desserts with Bubbles, and she keeps looking over at you."

Taking his hint you look over to the desserts and see two women dressed up as Bubbles and Blossom from the Powerpuff Girls. You guess they're friends with the woman at the security desk.

"She's quite pretty," you comment. "Why haven't you asked her out yet?"

Steve rubs the back of his neck, wearing an awkward smile, "I dunno."

"You know, I work in customer service, I could, maybe, talk to her?" Your offer is two-fold because it would give you a chance to verify that the lady in question is actually interested in Steve and he's not refusing to hear "no".

"You don't need to do that," Steve says. "I'm just...it's not as easy for me as it is Bucky."

"What do you mean?" you shake your head. Bucky's smile drops at your tone.

Steve gives you a confused look, "he asked you out, right? Gave you his number? That's why you're here?"

"He said he was trying to be a friend," you turn to Bucky who has the decency to look embarrassed.

"It's...I swear...it's not..." Bucky stumbles as he tries to find the words.

"I think I should go home," you say before you turn and leave.

Part 2

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen;

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly;

@stellar-solar-flare

#tech tuesday #tech tuesday: bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x barista!reader

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anakinskwkler · 7 months ago

Text

The endless wait pt.1

Anakinxfem!jedireader

Part 2 coming soon!

Summary: Anakins on a mission for a year without any contact with his secret wife and it's hard for her while he's gone.

(Warnings! None really, maybe some mentions of death and scars in part 2)

After receiving the news from the Council that he would be going to Alderaan for 11 months for a mission, he was devastated. Anakin never wanted to leave you, even on missions that were only a few days long. Now, he was leaving for almost a year. He was dreading telling you.

"Love? Are you here?" He shouts softly as she steps into his quarters. She comes rushing out of the bathroom with a towel in her hand, wiping her face with a wide smile. "Ani! Hi, baby!" She says as she drops the towel and jumps into his arms, his hands resting on her thighs as he smiles at her.

"I missed you today," she says, which makes Anakin dread telling her even more. "I was only gone for a few hours," he says with a forced smile that she notices immediately. "What's wrong?" she asks as she cups his face lightly. "Uh, we need to talk, love." He sets her down, hands still resting on her hips.

Her smile faded slowly as she noticed his serious demeanor. "What's going on?" she asked, slightly panicked. Anakin grabbed her hand gently and led her to the couch. Sitting on the edge of it, he turned his body toward her. "I was assigned a mission...on Alderaan."

He looked up at her to see what her reaction would be. "Okay...what's the mission?" she cautiously asked, locking her eyes on his. "They need me to be a guard at the palace." She let out a breath of relief at his words. "That's easy, right?" Anakin nodded before speaking up again. "Yeah, it is, but...I'm stationed there for eleven months."

She looked stunned at his words. "Eleven months? Y-you'll be gone for eleven months?" she repeated, her mind racing. He noticed her disappointment and quickly but gently cupped her face. "I'll be back before you know it, hun," he assured her. "When do you leave?" she questioned, looking at him with a frown.

"Tomorrow..."

The next morning, they were saying their last goodbyes before Anakin flew to Alderaan. "You know I won't be able to call you, right? My holopad won't work on Alderaan, so I'll have to write to you," Anakin said as he hugged her firmly, rubbing her back softly as his face was buried in her hair.

"Yes, I know," she squeaked out as she held him tightly and close to her. He pulled away to look at her, seeing her red eyes from trying not to cry. Cupping her face, he pressed tender kisses on her forehead, cheeks, and nose before placing an affectionate one on her lips.

"I'm going to miss you so much," she whispers quietly against his lips. "I know...I'll think of you every day, every night, every minute. You'll be on my mind," he whispers before getting called on his comlink. "Anakin, come in, Anakin, we're sending you off earlier than planned. Your ship is leaving in three minutes," one of the clones speaks through the communicator.

He gives her one last hug before leaving. "I love you, Y/N. Never forget that," Anakin whispers as he kisses her temple, then her lips, before exiting her room.

I wasn't going to make a part 2 but I decided I was going to. It'll be out soon!

#anakin imagine #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin x y/n #anakin x you #hayden christensen x reader #star wars anakin #hayden christensen

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canisbrutus · 7 days ago

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AAAHHHH your headcanons are amazing !! Do you have more to tell us on the bullies? Maybe Trent, or Tom? I would love to hear about them too!!!

you're flatterin me lmao. alright lets see. this was supposed to be short. its not. youre gettin Trent Tom & Ethan. And i'm barely holding back from dumping abt Russell too bc goddamn everyone did him dirty. anyway enjoy.

Trent Northwick 🎬

The Basics:

he got laid exactly once and made it 3/4ths of his personality.

yeah he's got a bit of an ego, or so it seems. but he's arguably still one of the better folks on campus.

he's also an actor, part of the drama club, something he takes very very seriously.

wants to make it to hollywood someday. make it big. be adored.

and he is a Very good actor, believe it or not.

"i'm so hot" this, "I'm a star" that.

a begging to be believed.

tough crowd at bullworth, you know? not his fault nobody can recognize pure talent.

but at the end of the day, its not even a convincing enough performance to fool himself.

Expanded Lores:

his home life aint the greatest. not the Worst, but not good.

father aint in the picture, he had his grandmother for a moment, but she died, as old people tend to do, and he was on his own with his mother.

and his mother. hrms. after a certain point she just got too tired to really give a fuck about him or anything he did.

he helped out with finances by working part time. as they did struggle with like. food insecurity. keeping the lights on and the water running. all that jazz.

at least they had a house. in a slum, but still.

much like wade and co., his grades were ass, and he didnt feel like concussing himself on the field over Balls.

with not many options on his plate, he turned his gaze to his one passion and form of escapism: the big screen.

the man can memorize entire films in ~3 watches at most.

has the shittiest notes known to man but he's still good.

yes he was part of the drama club as mentioned before. and yes, he was romeo in that one play.

and yes, he got Really into the role. and Really into 'juliet.'

was he accosted by his buddies for taking a fonder interest in a nerd? also yes, but when pressed he'd laugh it off.

'it's not his fault there's prettyboys everywhere to those with eyes to see.'

their fling was cut short when earnest caught them in the library tangled together and he chastised cornelius for. well. 'getting sloppy' with one of their sworn enemies.

many such cases. but luckily for trent he caught the eye of another boy: kirby olsen, star of the field.

i can talk about those two for ages but i'll try to keep it brief here.

in short they were the only ones who took eachother seriously and recognized the effort they put into their respective passions.

they had their hangups still, most notably being kirby's own internalized homophobia, but clung to eachother like moss to a stump all the same.

trent actually told his bully boys about his relationship, top secret shit. but believe it or not that was chill.

long story short they made a blood oath they'd always have eachothers backs, cause as ive said before, they aint got much else.

that, and, well. it's not like they werent unfamiliar with such bonds anyway. between troy's questioning and certain other things, what happens in the trenches stays in the trenches.

the trenches being the various Ditches around, usually the school parking lot.

yeah none of these boys really care abt getting dirty they usually took cover in them.

this earned them the nickname 'gutterslime' from the preps.

funny story: trent once pulled a muskrat out of a particularly wet ditch. named it Bucky II and held it up for his friends to see.

the rat then bit him and ran away, of course.

final thing take these two songs that fit him. 1. 2. moving on.

Tom Gurney 🧿

(CW: abuse/stalking mentions)

The Basics:

alright this one might be a stretch but hear me out.

he doesnt live with his parents, just his crazy ass brother.

his paranoia? comes from them and alll their stunts.

that trauma and fear's wormed under his skin and ofc it reflects in like. most of his worldview.

hard to trust anything or anybody when your own parents turned out to be monsters ya know?

but he still tries to trust his friends.

that blood oath meant sumn to him.

if only they'd just listen to him a bit more sometimes.

Expanded Lores:

tom is what youd call legally emancipated. in other words he went thru the courts and got divorced from his own parents and doesnt need any guardian's permission to get a job enroll in school n shit etc etc etc.

this was hell.

for one they didnt want him out of their vise. for another they Damn sure didnt want him under the same roof as his disgrace of a brother, not after they sent him off to that boarding school.

yeah tom didnt grow up in bullworth and his brother kind of kidnapped him. but it was justified.

as such, he was kind of an oddball amongst the bullies, being one of the youngest, if not The youngest addition to their group.

this all went down his freshman year, two years prior to ingame events.

regardless they did accept him wholeheartedly. he's got his own attitude and Bite.

they even included him in the blood oath. which was Very significant to him.

practically solidified them as his Brothers. his new family. etc.

sidenote: his actual brother is the townie Gurney. his deal was he dropped out and just never went home because it sucked. he's got a few screws loose but he's a good guy. he's also like 20something.

anyway tom's a horror nut yeah. always was. likes junji ito, texas chainsaw massacre, that sort of thing.

he was actually in a creative writing club working out his own creepypasta-esque stories lmfao.

earned him the title of creep. sometimes got him smacked.

he Also likes radiohead but shhhh.

sigh. his parents Really didnt let him go easy.

in fact they refused to accept the court's orders.

came up, watched him, for a time.

he thought he'd just be experiencing sleep paralysis, seeing shadows from the window.

if only. no. they Wanted him back.

they got arrested thankfully. finally. gurney spoke of moving again but tom didn't want to leave his friends behind.

anyway. absolutely horrid upbringing aside, tom was a pretty decent guy, largely.

yeah he's been through a lot, but it toughened him up, or so he thinks. if nothing else it's hardened him somewhat.

bullworth was a shithole for many, but it was probably the only place he felt really free.

on a lighter note. damn this boy loved bmx tricks.

liked bikes just as much as the greasers really.

wasnt uncommon to see him at the park on the ramps practicing his stunts.

didnt wear protection nope who needed that.

thats for girls and he aint a girl. he's rawdogging life already.

you can tell how that went by his face alone.

usually gurney cooked bacon n eggs to help him feel better n shit.

fav food yaknow. poached especially. extra crispy bacon.

i got a song for him too dw. boink

Ethan Robinson 🥋

The Basics:

he's arguably one of the most put together of the bunch.

or at least, he knows what he believes in and he's sticking with it.

it's all self-empowerment to him. discipline and whatnot.

he's still a hooligan, but that's just the way of the world. to turn the other cheek, to not assert yourself? that's weakness.

they'll thank him for showing them the way, someday.

they'll know respect. they'll know strength.

they'll see.

Expanded Lores:

the home he comes from has suffered some hardships. but he didnt have a bad upbringing, per se.

loving parents, strong father, they only want to see him succeed.

some things just cant be helped. like the shithole neighborhood they're in.

but at least he met his lifelong friends there.

the boys pile up on his couch to watch cowboy bebop on a semifrequent basis. lol.

his place was a safe haven when trent's home wasnt available for movie night. and movie night was Important.

this boy has a massive collection of flicks, on that note.

most of which are either kung fu, samurai, or anime related.

yeah his obsession runs deep.

one might even call it a special interest.

he's got katanas on his bedroom walls and shit.

absolutely heartbroken he cant bring them on campus.

but he makes do with his fists, of course.

he was lucky enough to join an afterschool martial arts club in his elementary years. unfortunately it shut down sometime in middle school and he hadnt been able to find another since.

he doesnt remember all the moves, but he still has his Belts.

he also has a very fat orange cat named Buddha.

morning tradition is to rub his belly for luck every day.

not a hard task as that cat is frequently splayed out on his back.

or in somebody's lap. the boys frequently pass him around like a potato during movie night.

admittedly he really likes animals. feeds strays and whatnot.

volunteers at shelters. usually on weekends.

breaks his heart when he cant save em all.

anyway he does meditate and Often.

usually under an ice cold shower pretending its a waterfall.

sometimes perched precariously on the roof of some building.

how does he get up there? parkour.

yeah in his quest to be a ninja he picked up some tricks like Scaling Buildings and Long Jumps.

he's Very hard to knock off balance.

sometimes he can be seen just chilling on top of the boy's dorm when he wants some peace and quiet.

the others accompany him up there sometimes but usually they back out from fear lol.

tom's generally fine with it though. he's used to heights.

funny pair of alleycats they are.

anyway aside from his.... particular views on pushing folks around, and his attitude most of the time. he's a nice kid.

honestly he's got some of the best grades of the bullies lmfao.

music blast

that took me all night i hope u like it lmao. these boys. shakes my fist. their dynamics amuse me.

requests are still open but i may close them soon

[hc masterpost link]

#bully scholarship edition #canis canem edit #bully canis canem edit #bully cce #mine #trent northwick #ethan robinson #tom gurney

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aishangotome · 1 month ago

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[Darius Vogel] I Can't Return to a Time Before You Part 2

Kate: I want to know what kind of world "a future where humans and the cursed join hands" or "a new order" would be.

Darius: ………… Hmm...

Was it just the light that made his gaze seem to change?

I felt as if a darkness I didn't know had been reflected in his honey-colored eyes, which had been sweetly swaying until a moment ago.

But....

Darius: Hahaha, you're so serious.

The cold look in his eyes disappeared in an instant.

Darius was looking at me "as a lover."

Darius: But that's not a question you ask your lover, is it?

Darius: First, let's tell each other our favorite colors and foods.

Was he brushing me off, or did he not want to talk about it?

(Maybe I was being too hasty.)

Kate: You're right. Let's start by telling each other our favorite foods, then.

Darius: Well then, ladies first. You go ahead.

Kate: My favorite foods... There are so many, I don't know where to start.

Kate: The ice cream in front of the station, and the scones with lots of clotted cream and jam.

Kate: I also like spicy meat pies and sandwiches to eat during intermissions at the theater.

Darius: Hahaha, you really do have a lot of favorites. Was your previous job a food critic or something, Fairytale Keeper?

His teasing voice made me feel a little embarrassed, as if he was saying I was a glutton.

Kate: Th-that's not true...!

Kate: I just know a lot because when I eat delicious food, my stomach and heart are filled and I feel happy...

Darius: Hmm. Your heart, huh...?

Darius: So, when I want to win your heart, Fairytale Keeper, all I have to do is prepare delicious food for you.

Darius: I've learned something good.

Kate: ...Now it's your turn to tell me your favorite food, Darius.

Darius: I like foods that seem difficult to make or obtain.

Darius: Conversely, I hate potatoes. I'm sick of that taste. I've eaten them so much that I don't want to eat them again for the rest of my life.

Darius: I also don't like dry food because it gets stuck in my throat.

Kate: What kind of food is difficult to make or obtain?

Darius: Well... It might be faster to show you than to explain. Come with me.

Kate: Whoa!

Darius suddenly took my hand and–

(Where are we going?)

This is supposed to be an unfamiliar city to him.

Darius: This is definitely the way.

Darius sniffed the air as he made his way through a maze of twists and turns... He continued on without a moment's hesitation, and there it was...

Kate: Ah, this shop...!

(It's a famous patisserie that's notoriously difficult for beginners to find.)

Darius: Too bad. They only have the usual stuff.

Darius shrugged as he gazed through the window at the inside of the store.

(Is Darius looking at...)

Kate: The mille-feuille?

Darius: Yeah, I was looking for my favorite, mille-feuille glacé, but it doesn't look like they sell it.

Kate: Mille-feuille glacé?

Darius: It's a mille-feuille with puff pastry, cream, and ice cream sandwiched between them. Don't you know it?

Kate: ...!! That must be absolutely delicious!

(Just the crispy puff pastry and fluffy cream alone can make you happy, but on top of that, there's ice cream...)

What a happy pastry it must be.

Darius: It's so delicious that your cheeks will melt. You've never had it before?

Kate: No, I haven't. I'd love to try it!

Darius: Then I have to let you try it. As your lover.

Darius smiled and opened the door to the patisserie.

And then––.

Kate: Mmm! This is so delicious!

Darius: It's not a real mille-feuille glacé, though. Well, it's just the atmosphere.

That's right, what I'm eating is just a plain mille-feuille with ice cream on top.

It was Darius' suggestion as a substitute for mille-feuille glacé.

Kate: Even if it's not the real thing, it's very delicious. I didn't know you could eat it like this.

Darius: The real thing is much more delicious. I'll let you try it someday, but for now, just enjoy the atmosphere.

Kate: Hehe, I'm looking forward to the day I can eat it.

Darius: Hey, that fake one. Give me a bite, too.

Kate: Of course. Here you go.

I moved the plate with the mille-feuille, fork, and knife toward Darius.

But....

Darius: Chomp.

Darius stuck his fork into the mille-feuille and took a big bite.

Darius: This is delicious in its own way, isn't it?

The mille-feuille, still pierced by the fork, was returned to the plate.

Kate: Um...

Darius: You're wondering why I didn't cut it?

Kate: Th-that too, but more importantly, your gloves...

His pure white gloves were stained with the chocolate ice cream that had dripped when he bit into the mille-feuille.

Darius: They've gotten all sticky.

Kate: I think it will come clean if you wash it right away. I'll go wash it in the patisserie's restroom, so please give me your gloves.

Darius suddenly looked down at his gloves.

Darius: ………… Well, whatever.

Darius: These gloves are important to me, so don't lose them.

He dropped the gloves he had taken off from above.

As if taking care not to let our hands touch.

Darius: Oh, don't take it personally. If I touch you directly, I'll see something I don't want to see.

Kate: Something you don't want to see?

Darius: "When I touch someone's skin directly, I see the worst possible future they will experience." That's my ability.

Kate: What...?

It was then that I opened my eyes wide at his sudden confession.

Gentleman: I beg your pardon.

A gentleman in a hurry bumped into Darius, gave a brief apology, and left.

Darius: ............

(Did he just... touch that gentleman directly?)

Darius' eyes, which had been fixed on the gentleman's back, slowly turned towards me...

Darius: Would you like to see what the "worst" future looks like?

Bitter Ending

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

#ikevil #ikemen villains #ikemen villains darius vogel #darius vogel i can't return to a time before you #darius vogel translation #ikevil jp

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sugawhaaa · 1 month ago

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BEOMGYU X READER

☆•[Behind closed doors]•☆

☆•{{ date night }}•☆

Warnings//genre:: friends to lovers, slow burn, idol AU,

Pairing:: idol!beomgyu x idol!fem!reader

A/N:: here is part three that literally no one asked for 😍 I think the last part in the least popular fanfic I have ever posted 💀

Chapter 2:: 🎤

Taglist:: @run2min

🎧::

Previous chapter

“Well maybe someday we can chat a little more than just this five minute walk hm?” He grins and you blush softly.

“Yeah, I'll chat with you soon,” you smile and you can see him holding back his giddy grin.

“Sounds good,” he watches as you start to head for the stairs. “Have a good night Y/N~” he smiles with a little wave and you wave back.

“Goodnight!” You hop up the stairs and Beomgyu watches in admiration, adoring your innocence. He makes sure you get inside safely, just like last time, before walking off. He put his hand on the shoulder you touched, rubbing it softly with a cheeky grin

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

It has been about two weeks since you last saw Beomgyu. You've been busy and he's been busy so you haven't met up at yet, though you do text a lot. One day he messages you.

Gyu-have you gone ice skating before?

you look at his message from your living room, hanging out with some of your members.

you- A few times

you- Why?

Gyu- Would you wanna go with me?

he then sends a little gif that's a dumpling smiling with circle blush. You were taken aback by the question, so straight forward and bold. You think for a moment before replying.

you- when are you thinking about going?

Gyu- I'm free the next five days so whenever you wanna. It'd be nice to go at night time though

After some more back and forth chatting you decide that tomorrow after dinner you are going skating with Beomgyu. It's a beautiful outdoor rink with fairy lights and decorations for the lunar new year. You told the members you were going out but...not with who. Before you know it, the next day arrives and you're eating dinner at the kitchen table. You're phone rings mid-way through a conversation, Beomgyu's calling. "Sorry, I got take this," You smile and dismiss yourself from the table. Just as you say hello Beomgyu calls out into the speaker.

"Y/N-AH!" He shouts playfully and you take your phone off your ear. The members look at you weirdly and you brush it off.

"What!? I'm eating dinner," You sigh and Beomgyu makes a little "oh" sound.

"Just making sure you're still coming, I have skates here in your size...I think," He holds up the skates as he holds the phone between his cheek and shoulder. "Anyway, you getting all prettied up?" He asks in a friendly teasing way. "Oh and dress warm, it's cold out tonight," Beomgyu's voice is light and free spirited.

"W-Will do," His comment from earlier still has you blushing.

"now finish eating, get nice and full because I am not buying you anything while we're out," He giggles.

"Hey I have my own money-"

He then hangs up and you groan. He's such a headache sometimes but you love him...platonically of course.

"What was that about?" Yina asks as she holds her chopsticks between her fingers.

"Just a friend," You pause. "I'm going out with her tonight," You nod, covering up the fact you're going out with a man of all people. The rest of dinner becomes a Q&A between you and your unnies. It was a long process but you quickly make an escape to get dressed and put make-up on. You go out to the entryway and put on your outer gear.

"That's quite the get-up for a friend outing," Mi cha comments. You pat down your body and realize you forgot your phone in your room. You rush back to grab and see a message from beomgyu.

Gyu- Here!

You rush out to the front door to see Mi Cha has opened the door to Beomgyu. "That doesn't look like a woman," She comments with an arched brow before looking at you. She then turns back to Beomgyu, "You must be beomgyu or something right?"

"Ah, you must be Mi Cha," He leans down to her level, a smug look on his face as he looks her up and down, not even trying to hide his judgement of her character.

"Sorry Gyu I was in my room," You push passed Mi Cha and she scoffs.

"Gyu...cheesy," Mi cha mutters.

"Okay! Let's get going," Beomgyu puts a hand to the small of your back, pushing you towards his body which ticks something in Mi Cha's head. "Bu-bye now~" Beomgyu says in a friendly tone as he closes the door but there was a hidden sass in his voice. As the two of you walk down the hall he lets go of your waist. "She's irritating," Beomgyu scoffs and you chuckle.

"Don't hold it against her," You say calmly and gyu sighs.

"Maybe," He takes you out to the parking lot and to his car. In the back seats he has a bag of skates and extra mitts and hats just in case. The drive to the rink was far from quiet; he played lot's of music including some of your songs and his. The two of you also talked each others ears off and you found yourself comforted in Beomgyu's presence. He is weird and loud but he's sincere, relatable and non-judgmental, it's refreshing. You then pull up to the rink and he takes the bag with him to the bench you've chosen. Beomgyu helps you put your skates on, kneeling in front of you as he ties the laces. "Is that tight enough?" he asks as he puts his hands around your ankle, testing the tightness.

"Yup, it's good," You idly wait next to him as he does his own skates, watching the other people skate around the outside of the lake, the pole in the center holding up some lanterns for the new year. You felt a rush of excitement to circle around the lake with Beomgyu, it's gonna be so special.

"Okay, let me help you up," Beomgyu stands up in front of you. "It's all about balance, use your legs," he extends his thinly gloved hands out to you and you take them. You pull yourself up, Beomgyu pulling you as well. You already begin to slip on the ice and gyu catches you. "The beginning is always the hardest, let's get moving," Beomgyu skates backwards as he pulls you with him "There we go! You're getting it," He cheers as you begin to skate faster.

"Kinda," You chuckle shyly as you skate around the lanterns. You look up, looking at the strings holding up all the lanterns, your eyes filling with light.

On Beomgyu's end he watches the way you admire the sight, your eyes full of the glimmer of joy and excitement. He finds his eyes locked onto you, his pull on you growing weaker and his awareness falling around him. He then stumbles over the edge of the rink, falling into the snow and taking you with him.

The warmth of his body and cold of the snow catches you by surprise as you pick yourself up off of him, looking down at him. "Are you okay?" You chuckle as you try to wiggle off of him but your skates make it hard.

"I'm good," He tries to help you off his lap but you slip and he suddenly jerks his legs up with a little cry of pain. "Okay, okay not as good," He pulls himself up before standing up on the ice again. He extends his hands out to help you up. "Yup one leg then the other," He lifts you up to your feet and your skidding around with him again. Before you know it the moon is held high above the two of you and most people have left. "This has been fun but unfortunately we should get going," The two of you make your way over to the bench again and change back into your usual boots and shoes. You then hop into the car and patiently wait for Beomgyu to put the skates in the back again.

The drive home felt way too short and before you knew it he was walking you up to the dormitory door. "We should do something like this again soon," He smiles with a nod and you nod in agreement.

"Whenever we get a day off," You say as you stand in front of him, not wanting to go home yet.

"Yeah like that ever happens," He scoffs and you chuckle.

"Well then we could compromise right? Maybe give me some private dance lessons?" You tilt your head with a mischevious smirk.

"That could work, Yeonjun trains with new jeans a lot so I can't say why I couldn't~?" He puts a finger to his chin playfully. "Now you should get out of the cold and rest, that was a lot of excitement," He pats your head, reminding you of the height difference between the two of you. You go on your tippy toes and give him a peck on the cheek, leaving a stain of lipstick on his cheek.

When you get back into your dorm you're approached by Areum.

"How was your date?" She crosses her arms and you roll your eyes.

"It wasn't a date,"

"But you were out with a boy. A male idol," She emphasizes the "idol" bit.

"Oh come on, Beomgyu would never think of me like that," You say as you kick off your shoes and jacket.

"That doesn't matter," She shakes her head. "It's how you think about him,"

Beomgyu POV

He yawns as he comes through the doorway only to see the two screen zombies playing video games again while Yeonjun sits to the side watching them. He also has some kind of drink in his hand. "Hey how was your date?" He smiles and Beomgyu smiles blissfully, Yeonjun then notices the stain on his cheek. "Oh, that seems good. Did you tell her yet?" He asks and Beomgyu snaps back to reality.

"Hah, no. We've only been talking for like, three weeks, not even a full month," He explains as he puts back the winter gear and skates.

"Still, she clearly likes you back. That's like the second kiss she's given you. That's not platonic,"

"You should do it chicken," Kai chimes in.

"You'll lose her before you know it," Soobin adds.

"Oh shut up," Beomgyu huffs before going to his room.

To be continued...

#Spotify #txt x reader #txt soobin #txt fanfic #txt post #txt hard hours #txt beomgyu #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu #beomgyu smut #beomgyu #beomgyu x female reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x reader #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together #txt

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evanpercy · 3 months ago

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The Couch in S8 and how it will tie to buddie canon, a 9-1-1 analysis

First of all, I'd like to say that this theory is based solely on observations made by myself and others, on camera and lighting choices which, as we all know, are always very important in a TV show. I'm NOT going over the previous couch theory from s6, 1. because I don't have the time and 2. because everything has already been said (Buck falling asleep on Eddie's couch because it's the only place he feels safe, Chris falling asleep in the same place, yada yada).

Next, this theory is going to be pretty much chronological, but I may be getting a little ahead of myself at times, sorry. In the end, you'll see, it makes sense, but I'm also asking you for a bit of imagination.

Let's dive into it!

Everything begins in 8x01. We get a scene between Buck, Tommy and Eddie, who are organizing a birthday party for Chris over a facecall. Eddie's couch makes its first appearance this season: Eddie sits on it to call Chris, and Buck and Tommy hide behind it.

Buck and Tommy share a moment. It's cute to see Buck so comfortable in his relationship and his attraction. Well, Tommy is awkward but, are you surprised? (no) As Eddie starts the call, Buck and Tommy jump from behind the couch and we get the first frame interesting enough for this analysis.

What can we say? Eddie is alone on the couch, Buck on his left and Tommy on his right.

(Eddie is once again between Buck and Tommy. In all their scenes together, there's always someone in between the other two. That's not the point here but I love to point it out.)

Buck isn't with Eddie, he's standing behind the couch. It's acting like a physical separation. Buck can only watch Eddie's pain from a distance as the call goes on, and he is useless. Powerless.

That will be the case throughout the early part of this season.

Buck doesn't do anything about Chris and Eddie. Why? I still don't know to be honest with you.

Eddie doesn't talk to Buck about Chris at all. They don't share a single scene alone in the privacy of one of their homes. There's always someone with them - Tommy, the rest of the crew - or they're at the station. Eddie will talk about Chris to Hen, Bobby, the cheerleader's father, Father Brian, even Brad in 8x08. NEVER Buck.

There's also something interesting about the fact that Eddie and Buck don't really talk to each other until Tommy breaks up with Buck.

It's probably not conscious, but I really think Buck is actually distracted by Tommy. He's in this new relationship, it's good, it's cute, it's really different from what he's used to.

We'll see that this will eventually go away...

(A quick interlude: Of course this isn't the first time we've seen 3 people with the couch. It also happened with Buck, Eddie and Chris in S3 - yeah, when couch theory wasn't even a thing. They're on Buck's couch though, but I'm planting a seed in your mind, watch out...)

Next time, it's not Eddie's couch we're talking about, but Buck's. It appears in 8x05, when Buck is sitting in his armchair after returning from the hospital and Tommy is looking after him. There's a lot to say in this scene, but I'm going to focus on one or two things.

Episode 5 was shot after episode 6. I can't stressed out how much it's hit after hit to show us that Buck and Tommy are not staying together (and indeed, Tommy breaks up in 8x06). I imagine the writers ran with the opportunity to show just how incompatible and how physically separated Buck and Tommy are, as well as drawing many parallels between Tommy and Eddie. Maybe I'll talk about that someday.

In this frame, Buck and Tommy are separated. Buck is sleeping in the armchair and Tommy on the couch. I know it's better to sleep in a sitting position when you've dislocated a shoulder, but they could have had Buck sleeping in his bed, snug in his pillows, Tommy next to him.

They didn't.

They made Tommy sleep on the couch. Buck's uncomfortable couch. The one I think he bought with Natalia (if I'm wrong, please don't hate me, season 6 is far in the back of my mind).

See, Tommy doesn't even fit properly on the couch. He's got his head on the armrest and he doesn't have a blanket that covers him completely. He doesn't fit into Buck's life, no matter how hard he tries. He's always out of place.

He chooses the couch Buck doesn't like, and he'll be the only one in this season so far to use it. He's comfortable on it and can sleep, something Buck has never been able to do. Buck will never choose this couch, even if he thinks it's the right choice.

(By the way, Oliver said in an interview literally released before episode 8 that Buck's couch is uncomfortable.... Thanks for that, I know you're a couch theory truther Oliver.)

Next couch, 8x06. Eddie's Risky Business moment.

He dances in his living room and jumps on his couch twice. The first time to recreate the scene. The second time, he chooses to lie down on the couch to bask in the euphoria a little longer. Eddie has his first moment of pure joy in years, and it's on the couch that he decides to settle and calm down. Not saying too much about it but I wanted to point it out, once again.

Where it gets interesting, you know it, is when Buck arrives. Buck, who's just been dumped and once again goes to Eddie for a little comfort. He hands Eddie a beer and sits down first on the couch to drink his own.

Let's take a look at this last frame. The framing ticked me off as soon as I saw it, but I couldn't put my finger on why. Now, I know.

Eddie and Buck are sitting side by side, yes, but! If you pay close attention, you can see several things.

First, Buck appears completely in the frame, from shoulder to shoulder. He takes up most of the space, sitting upright on the couch, staring straight ahead.

On the other side, Eddie leans against the backrest, but in doing so, he moves out of frame. The arm and hand holding the beer are totally offscreen. He's looking to the side, not at Buck.

It's already a weird composition, a very pointed choice, because why aren't they both clearly visible in the frame? Why is Eddie a little off the side? This could have been filmed in a slightly less close-up shot, to show them both fully, but it's not. It's clearly a choice.

Let me direct your attention to the wall behind them. You'll see, it's interesting.

Between them, but rather on Eddie's side, what can we see? A picture. Yeah, but not a random one. You can see it more clearly on this frame of Eddie.

Yep. It's an art of Texas. Quite ugly if you ask me. (Eddie, you're clearly making some strange choices when it comes to decorating.)

I won't try to analyze this framework any further, as you've already understood what I'm getting at if you've been paying attention.

It's a foreshadowing of Eddie leaving for Texas.

So we got Eddie leaning away from Buck, a Texas pic on the wall between them, while Buck is just here, choosing Eddie's couch (and Eddie) for comfort after his breakup. It's where he feels safe. Eddie is always here for him when he's not okay, he's his constant. See how the colors are warm, golden? It screams safe. It screams home.

They don't need to talk, they have each other... or so he thinks. Sorry Buck.

Let's move on to 8x08. Where it all makes sense.

Very quickly: Eddie isn't making his call to Chris on the couch, but on his coffee table. First, what the hell? It's weird, unless you think he considers the couch a nice place, and that this conversation will be far from nice in his head. Indeed, he was right.

Buck shows up at Eddie's after baking way too much bread, because he almost called Tommy. By the way, the mere fact that he decided to go to Eddie's to stop himself from doing so speaks volumes as fucking always, but let's not get into that.

(Look at his little basket, his bread all wrapped up. Buck, you're everything.)

When he realizes that Eddie is seriously thinking of moving to El Paso... well, he supports him. He supports him, because that's what a best friend is supposed to do, right? He suggests to Eddie, and I quote, “we should move this party to the couch”.

By the way, this is the first time he's explicitly brought the couch to Eddie. And we know that when a character mentions something for the first time when they never did, it's to emphasize it.

It's the same with Eddie saying he's straight… or when he says “we?” after Buck's suggestion. They are in this together, and it's what Eddie realizes when Buck goes to sit on the couch... He doesn't have to do all that alone. (Take that little side analysis, my treat. I fucking love this scene, I want to dissect it.)

Buck sits on this couch he's chosen many times over the years.

It's THE couch, the one he always goes to when something is not right in his life. After he died, when he couldn't sleep at home. After his breakup.

He's the first to sit on it ... yes, just like in 8x06.

(This may seem trivial, of course, but the fact that he always goes without waiting for Eddie... Imo, it screams “Buck will figure it all out first and Eddie will have to catch up with him later”. Or "Buck will be waiting for Eddie". Same with him already drinking his beer while Eddie struggles to open it. Maybe a bit far-fetched, but eh? Anyway.)

The setting of the scene is so cold, and I didn't realize it until I compared it with the other scenes on the couch. This creates quite a contrast.

(Sorry I need to talk about something. Let's open an analysis in the analysis.

Buck is dressed in blue - it's Eddie's color in the color theory - while Eddie is dressed in a brownish button down. When I first watched this scene last night, I didn't notice, but looking again… Don't these outfits remind you of anything?

Yeah. I know, they're not the same, but they're similar and it's enough for me to make the parallel. Buck was there for Eddie when Chris left, and he's now here for him when Eddie wants to move to Texas.

Something about "I love you, so I'm letting you go". I'm crying too, don't worry.)

Back to the couch.

Eddie is totally off-screen, he's gone compared to the last time we saw the couch. Buck is alone, something shifts on his face - I'm not gonna lie, it was like watching a fanfic from AO3 on my screen. I've read enough feelings realization to recognize something close. Okay, to be fair, I don't know if it's a total realization of his feelings, but it's a start... and how beautiful that it's happening on Eddie's couch.

The couch represents safety, love, family for Buck. We understood it in s6 when it was first brought up.

By sitting on it, Buck chooses this life with Eddie, in a way.

Can you see the frame with the Texas pic? It's now completely visible, in the frame. It's behind Buck, over his shoulder. Eddie's departure, and by extension Texas, will haunt Buck for a long time to come.

I have to say, this shot is incredible. The whole scene is. I want to play it again and again, I want it tattooed on my eyelids. I'm gonna think about it for 3 months.

In a few episodes, we've gone from Buck behind the couch - away from Eddie's problems - to Buck on the couch, alone - totally there and available for Eddie, even though Eddie soon won't be.

After the breakup, Buck can finally talk to Eddie, care about him - not that he didn't before that, but he's finally free to throw himself back into his relationship with his best friend as before.

Buck has found his home, his couch, the relationship he's most comfortable in, but maybe it's only now, when Eddie's about to leave, that he realizes it.

The couch was never about Eddie - it was always about Buck and his relationship with him. So it's even more powerful to see him behind it in 8x01, on it with Eddie in 8x06 and finally all alone in 8x08.

(I didn't know Oliver confirmed the symbolism of the couch back in S6 but, once again, thank you Oliver.)

(Even if Tim Minear tries to say he doesn't know what it means... Please Tim, we know you're smarter than that).

So what can we expect from this couch for the rest of the season?

If Eddie is really leaving, which I don't believe, he might offer Buck his couch. If the couch is how Buck will realize that he has feelings for Eddie, I'm going to send a gift to everyone who's believed this theory since it first appeared. You're the real ones in this fandom.

If Eddie stays, I think we'll be getting more scenes with the couch. We could go from 3-2-1 to 1-2-3. Stay with me, and grab your imagination. We're going full in theory mode.

1 - Maybe we could have another scene, this time with Eddie alone on his couch? I could see this happening when he's packing, Buck not far away, and Eddie starts to wonder if this is really the right thing to do as his gaze lingers on Buck for a moment too long.

2 - We need two people on that couch again. I'm a big "Buddie first kiss in Eddie's kitchen" truther, but it could also happen on the couch.

Or they could have a big conversation together on it, that will eventually lead them to confess their feelings to each other later on. Maybe that's when Eddie decides to fight to get his son back, to not move to Texas? To confront his parents?

That's two scenes on the couch, two scenes where they don't really talk, even though the couch is an invitation to do so. I'd find it extremely interesting if their first real serious conversation this season took place here.

3 - Finally, we could go from Buck, Eddie and Tommy to something much better for a 3-characters scene on the couch, a configuration we've seen before: Buck, Chris and Eddie. It could even be the last scene of the season, and that wouldn't surprise me at all!

Just imagine: Buck and Eddie have confessed their feelings to each other, maybe Chris knows, maybe not. The three of them end up on this famous couch. Chris is in the middle, and Buck and Eddie look at each other over him, a smile on their lips.

Everything is fine, they've survived the end of the season disaster, Chris is back, they've finally found each other after years...

What an incredible parallel this would make with the beginning of the season! Where Buck was with Tommy, Chris away from his dad, Eddie depressed...

There, they could finally be happy on the damn couch. I have a very clear vision of this scene and I hope they make it a reality. We need our little Buckley-Diaz family together again. With buddie canon of course.

That's it, you've reached the end of this analysis-theory. I hope you enjoyed it. It took me 3 hours to write and I got lost in other theories, but hey! I had fun.

We're entering a 3-month hiatus so let's try to be kind to each other! Let's share our theories, fanarts, fanfics and edits to make this break a little more enjoyable!

If you want to give your opinion on this theory, you're free to do so here in the comments, or on twitter and bluesky (in both cases, I'm there under @/tinybuckish).

Self promo mode, I write fanfics that you can find on AO3 under the username Beezethe! I have one coda about the buddie scene in 8x08, pure angst with no comfort... Feel free to give it a read!

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