#none of this shit was in the job description he gave her she's so mad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gukyi · 5 years ago

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for you, anything | ksj

summary: in the popular online multiplayer game, kingdom, you are the top-ranked knight with money, fame, and power. in real life, you’re a graphic design geek who’s got a very unsubtle crush on her gorgeous coworker, kim seokjin. but when you’re suddenly dethroned from the first place spot in your game, you and your kingdom character embark on a journey to reclaim your title, and learn on the way that things are not always as they seem.

{friends to lovers!au, enemies to lovers!au}

pairing: kim seokjin x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, fantasy word count: 21k warnings: alcohol mention, brief and non-graphic descriptions of violence, this is basically two fics in one so you get double the fun and double the word count!! a/n: once again, a massive, massive thank you to @aurawatercolor for commissioning me!! you can find her on twitter as well under @btspresso_!! she’s the genius behind this enemies to lovers and friends to lovers seokjin fic wrapped up into a nice package just in time for the holidays!! you ever seen a fic with e2l and f2l together? that’s right, i didn’t think so. enjoy!!!

check out the post-script drabble here!

♚ HERE ♚

“Oh, shit!”

From twelve feet away comes the sound of these three things in this order: fingers furiously mashing keyboard keys, wheels of an office chair swiveling angrily on the linoleum floor, and a war cry. All of which could either belong to a video game world championships in a big-city stadium or your simple, office of two-floors in a more-than-one-hundred-stories skyscraper based in graphic design and media for small start-up companies.

“I can’t tell if Photoshop crashed again or if you’re playing that weird online multiplayer game again,” Yoongi grumbles from across the way, where he’s gnawing on a Clif bar in one hand as he mindlessly taps his mouse with the other.

“Please,” Jimin says, carelessly waving a hand. “Don’t act like I haven’t caught you watching My Hero Academia multiple times this year while we were supposed to be doing work, you absolute piece of toast. But if you must know, I was in fact playing Kingdom.”

“I’m going to tell Namjoon,” Yoongi says with zero emphasis, because everybody knows that Namjoon’s got dirt on everybody in the office anyway (including Yoongi) and that if you try to expose somebody else to him, he’ll expose you back. It’s colleague culture.

“And what’s Namjoon gonna do? He already knows you carry a flash drive of illegally-downloaded animes with you wherever you go,” Jimin retorts casually. He’s not wrong, and you can confirm that Yoongi indeed carts around a USB drive in the shape of a pineapple that has 64GB of anime.

“What do I know?”

Namjoon comes trotting into view from the corridor that leads to the gender-neutral bathrooms with glasses hanging from the collar of his sweater vest, a clipboard with nothing attached to it in his right hand, and a steaming cup of jasmine tea (he hates coffee and declares this publicly at least three times a day) in his left.

“You know that Yoongi—”

“Has been doing his work the whole time you were in the bathroom so you don’t need to worry about him,” Yoongi interrupts quickly.

Namjoon shoots both Jimin and Yoongi a suspicious glare, but moves on. He’s got enough blackmail on the both of them to bury them into the next calendar year, but he’s wise, and he only uses it when absolutely necessary. “Just doing checkups on you guys before Boss Man calls me back into his office and gives me a pile of over one hundred hours of work I’m supposed to do in a forty-hour work week.” It’s been obvious from the moment you were hired that Namjoon does the most work out of anybody in this office, including your boss, and gets very, very little from it.

“You don’t even have any paper attached to your clipboard,” Taehyung points out rather unhelpfully, from where he’s been drawing hearts on the cheeks of the Surprised Pikachu meme he’s taped up on the wall his desk is pushed up against.

Namjoon looks down at his clipboard like it just spit mad fire at him, furrows his brows, and lets out a sigh equivalent to three years worth of pent-up aggression. “Shit.”

Jimin cackles from his computer.

“Whatever, I’m still going to do checkups.” Namjoon takes the pen from behind his ear and writes himself a note, presumably to get paper for his clipboard later. “Jimin, you’re still working on that website layout for the art critic and photographer. Yoongi’s on coding for that search engine that we all know is never taking off but is still paying us. Taehyung’s on marketing because he’s got the most charming voice and Hoseok and Jungkook are on media production for the indie movie company. Y/N and Seokjin, you guys are on clientele and coding. Everybody good before I go get more paper?”

“Yes, Tiny but Large Boss Man,” Jimin says, and it’s enough of a confirmation to send Namjoon scurrying down the corridor again in search of paper as everyone else returns to their prior business.

“Y/N?”

You turn around from the font website you’ve been browsing for about half an hour to find Seokjin standing behind you, an earpiece in his ear and that charming smile on his face. It’s the same smile he gave you on your first day on the job when he was introducing himself, same smile he gives when he meets clients in person, same smile he gives Namjoon whenever the man is about to have a breakdown. It’s a friendly, personable-but-universal kind of smile. The kind models need. The kind that Seokjin has mastered.

“Hey, Seokjin,” you say, only just then coming to realize that Seokjin is much closer to you than his voice originally implied. You’ve rotated 180 degrees in your office chair and he is hardly a foot away from where your feet are. It’s a lot. Seokjin is always a lot. In the best sort of way. “Is anything the matter?”

“No, just wanted to check in and see how the project was going for that one guy that wanted a nice advertisement to put on Angie’s List,” Seokjin says, leaning down to look at what you’ve been doing.

“Oh, well I’ve been browsing this font website for ages and I still can’t find a nice one for the sub-heading. All of these are too flashy or difficult to read,” you say, beginning to scroll as you and Seokjin both look for one that you like.

“Hmm, I see what you mean,” his voice sounds like honey and if you had any less dignity you’d let the chills send shivers down your spine. Luckily, you know how to maintain your composure in an office setting. And you also know that Yoongi and Jungkook would never let you hear the end of it, ever. “Oh, how about that one?”

“This one? Rose Quartz?” You ask, pointing to it.

“Yeah,” Seokjin says. “It has a nice flair that matches with the font for the business name, but it’s still easy to read. It would probably look really nice with a crisp shadow behind it, don’t you think?”

“Maybe you’re onto something,” you say, clicking to read the fair use and copyright.

“Couldn’t have done it without all the hard work you’ve put into this,” Seokjin says, standing up and shooting you another one of his famous smiles. “You’re the best partner anybody in this tiny media production and design company could ask for.”

He leaves without bidding you farewell, but it’s enough to have you staring blankly at your computer, contemplating existence itself. Sometimes, a little part of you wonders if Seokjin only treats you like this and none of your other coworkers, but then you immediately remember that Seokjin is naturally charming and that he probably speaks to newborn babies in the same way.

Yoongi wheels over to your desk from where his is, smirk lacing his features as he chews on another, different-colored Clif bar.

“Ever heard of a personal bubble?” You ask snarkily, because you already know why he’s over here, and so does he.

“Why aren’t you asking the same question to Seokjin, hmm?” Yoongi taunts. He’s know about your dumb crush on your coworker (of all people, your coworker! A fellow employee!) for months now. He isn’t being any more helpful whatsoever.

“Go watch your pirated anime,” you grunt out, too overwhelmed with the way Seokjin smiles at you to really give Yoongi your full attention. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Sure, but I’m not Seokjin,” Yoongi says. Then he wheels away and you’re left staring at the Rose Quartz font, whose sample text reads: This was meant to be.

At least Namjoon doesn’t know.

It’s midnight on a Tuesday, and you’re just about to turn off the lamp on your bedside table and get some well deserved weekday-night shut eye when your phone begins to blare, a disgustingly ugly picture of Jungkook’s face appearing on the screen.

You stare at your phone like it’s personally offending you (which, if Jungkook’s face is anything to go by, it definitely is) before you turn off your ringer and close your eyes. Jungkook can wait. Very seldom is he at the top of your list of priorities.

Barely five seconds after you’ve put your head on your pillow, your phone begins to vibrate, this time even angrier than the last. Aggravated and a little concerned—because Jungkook never, ever calls twice—you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Y/N! Something crazy just happened!”

“I hope so, otherwise you wouldn’t be calling me at midnight on a work night,” you grumble into the phone, monotonous voice a stark contrast to Jungkook’s easily excitable one.

“Have you been on Kingdom recently?!” Jungkook asks, and you practically see his eyes bulging out of his head in front of you. One of your youngest coworkers, it’s moments like these that remind you why he bears a striking resemblance to a university student—up late playing video games even on a work night—despite having a couple years in the workforce under his belt. He keeps telling you that he wants to go back to school and get a Masters in something, but he isn’t sure what yet.

“No,” you tell him like it’s obvious, because it is. You typically begin to wind down your night around ten, which means that anything that’s happened on Kingdom in the past two hours you are thoroughly unaware of. “Can’t this wait? Kingdom’s fun and all, but I really do need to sleep.”

“But Y/N,” Jungkook says with a whine, insisting that you stay on the line, “someone beat you! You’re rank two, now.”

If Jungkook’s loud voice and jumpy attitude didn’t wake you before, you’re certainly wide awake now.

“What?” You ask, shocked. “Just now?”

“Yeah, like fifteen minutes ago! I don’t know what happened,” Jungkook says sadly, lost. “I was dueling with another knight when the horns and banners appeared on the screen and said there was a new top player. You’ve been dethroned!” He cries out like it’s him who’s lost their place.

You’re fumbling out of bed, making a beeline for your desktop computer across your bedroom. Normally, you’d be ashamed about how high-school you’re behaving around a video game, but you’ve invested an embarrassing amount of time and energy into Kingdom, and you’ll be damned if you think someone else can outdo you.

As you’re logging onto the game, Jungkook continues to wail into the phone. “I don’t even know who this person is, I feel like I’ve never seen them before! I mean, they must be really good since they practically appeared out of nowhere, but still! I’m a decent player so we must have crossed paths. Maybe I just don’t remember…”

Sure enough, the moment you open your screen the horns blare and the banners appear, congratulating a different player on achieving the top rank. You watch helplessly as the celebration fades on your computer before the leaderboard appears in the top left corner, your name a sad second place.

“Who’s JK0901?” You shout into the phone, earning an exasperated sigh from Jungkook on the other end. You scowl at the name that’s knocked you off your pedestal, before narrowing your eyes to look at it more closely. “JK? Is that you, Jungkook? Are you just calling me to make fun of me for beating me? Don’t disrespect your elders, Jungkook.”

Jungkook gasps like he’s been accused of murder. For people that take Kingdom as seriously as you and Jungkook, it may as well be. “No! What the heck, Y/N, you know that my username is KookieMonster97, for God’s sake. Accusing me of being the best, how could you?”

“You should have just taken the compliment,” you frown into the phone, “Now all the girls are gonna know you aren’t, in fact, the number one Kingdom player.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Jungkook mutters. “But it’s not me, I swear. You would have received a very different phone call from me if it was. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have even told you and then ruined your day in the office tomorrow. So it’s not me.”

“I can’t tell if I’d be more or less angry if it was you,” you admit.

“Why, because I’d finally have something to hold over your head other than my unwavering youth?” Jungkook taunts. Definitely still a university student at heart.

“No, because it means I’d have to hear the entire office praise you for a day, and I’d rather permanently pop my eardrums,” you tell him informatively. Jungkook has enough of a head. You actively try to not do anything to enlarge it unless he wholeheartedly deserves it.

“I love our coworker chats, you know,” Jungkook says. “Whoever this person is though, I bet they’re receiving bucketloads of praise for knocking you off the top spot. You’ve had it for like, three months now, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” you tell him through gritted teeth. “I’ve put my blood, sweat, and tears into this game and look how it’s repaying me,” you grumble, staring down the Kingdom home screen.

“JK0901 probably did a ritual sacrifice to beat you,” Jungkook supplies unhelpfully.

You sigh. Whoever they are, they proved that they are just as good at Kingdom as you are, a veteran player with an embarrassing several years of experience under your belt. In fact, they proved that they’re better than you.

♚ THERE ♚

It’s cloudy today, which means that more of the market stalls are out on the main street. You pass by them on your way to the castle, vendors calling out to you with promises of apples, jewelry, and perfumes.

You’ve got money to burn and your responsibilities can wait a couple of minutes, so you indulge one of the stalls and purchase a couple of apples. One should give you a bit of energy now, and the rest can be roasted later for a better meal.

“Miss Y/N, off to the palace?” The vendor asks. From how much you frequent this part of the kingdom, every artisan, farmer, and merchant alike knows your name. That, and the fact that you’ve amassed quite a group of followers from your daily knightly escapades.

“Of course,” you respond happily, paying the merchant with a couple of silver coins and then some, just as a thanks. The extra money helps the farmers raise the quality of their crops and allows them to earn more for their efforts. It also boosts your standing amongst the townsfolk. “His Majesty requested my presence for further instructions on fortification, most likely. But I’m just honored to be recognized.”

“As you should!” The man responds dutifully. “You are our best knight, after all.”

“Please, you flatter me. When the work day is done, go home and feed your children well, alright?” You ask, giving a firm nod to the merchant before you’re on your way. As you stroll down the stone-paved path, other vendors call out to you, hoping that you, too, will indulge in their finest clothes and trinkets on your way to the castle.

Maybe another day.

You take a hearty bite of the apple as you head towards the palace, a satisfying crunch ringing through your ears as the townsfolk nod and bow to you. It’s easy to figure out that you’re the top-ranked knight in the kingdom, with badges of honor pinned to your torso, ink black armor clinging tightly to your body, and red sashes tied around the black ones on your wrist, signifying approval from the highest ranking military official in the kingdom: the king himself.

The guards at the palace gates step aside as you nod to each other, bowing courteously. You repeat this process several more times as you slowly proceed towards the throne room, where the King (and maybe the Queen) are likely to be waiting for you. They had increased their security at every door frame after an attempted assassination several months ago, which you (with the help of other high-ranking knights and castle officials) discovered was a plot orchestrated by Their Majesty’s second-most-trusted advisor.

Finally, you reach the golden arches that signify that you’ve arrived at the most expensive room in the entire palace (save for Her Majesty’s bathroom, which, though you have never been inside, is rumored to have a golden bathtub and sacred water from the River Blancheur, over two thousand miles away. But you cannot confirm nor deny.), threatening red doors slowly creaking open as the King and Queen come into view.

They’re sitting on their thrones, as per usual, but they aren’t the only ones in the room like they normally are. Instead, there’s another knight, as equally decked out as you, standing before them, arms crossed behind their back.

“We hope that you can wear these honors proudly and do your duties with pride,” the King says regally, deep, thick voice echoing throughout the room.

“I will stop at nothing to ensure this kingdom’s greatness,” the knight says back, just as formal. The knight gives a long bow, red sashes around their wrist dangling towards the ground. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were being replaced. But of course, that’s not the case.

“Oh, Y/N,” the Queen says happily, noticing your waiting right in front of the closed doors to the throne room. “Prudent, as always.”

“I aspire to please,” you say with a bow. The King gives you a warm smile, one you’re willing to bet that this other knight isn’t often on the receiving end of.

“Your timing is impeccable,” the King says, ushering for you to come forward. You do so, taking calculated steps along the red carpet, woven nearly two centuries ago and maintained ever since. “We were just congratulating Sir JK on his recent accomplishments in the Black Forest.”

“Of course,” you say with a nod, refusing to turn to your left so you can stare down this Sir JK for yourself. “The military made groundbreaking strides for our kingdom there.”

“You are the first person to know this, other than him, of course, but we’ve decided to appoint him as the Head of the Royal Knights of the Kingdom of Kalar,” the King says proudly.

It takes everything in your willpower not to let your mouth drop open. You blink rapidly, making sure that you aren’t in a daze nor still asleep. Sure enough, you’re wide awake and your ears and eyes seem to be working perfectly. The knight next to you is taking over the highest position a knight can hold in your kingdom, one that even you haven’t been given.

You’ve been replaced.

“What an incredible honor,” you say, body stiff. You can practically feel the ego of the knight next to you radiating off of him. It makes your nerves twitch.

“I think so as well,” the King says proudly. He has, luckily, not picked up on your sudden mood change. “So, I’ve called you here to appoint you as his second-in-command.”

You bow graciously at his words, ensuring that, despite your bitter attitude, you are still thankful for this opportunity. Mostly. You are mostly thankful for this opportunity.

“I’m honored and grateful, Your Majesties,” you say, head facing the carpet. “I would rather die than let down my kingdom.”

“You two are to work together closely,” the Queen advises, words that make your ears bleed. Oh, wonderful, now you have to work hand-in-hand with the person that stole your favor with the royal household right from underneath your feet? You can think of nothing more enjoyable. “Your cooperation alone will ensure the utmost safety and security of this kingdom.”

“We shall do better than our best,” the knight beside you says. His words make your eyes roll back into your head, but you’ve been a bigger brownnoser in your past. You can forgive that, even if the man next to you radiates an energy you’d rather not surround yourself with.

“I’m pleased to hear it. Your training and work together begins now, so do not hesitate to get to know each other.”

You and him take one baited breath each before turning to each other. You both bow out of obligatory respect, which satisfies the King and Queen well enough. And as you come up, you catch a glimpse of each other’s eyes. His are dark, rounded pupils. They’re hiding something.

You’re determined to figure out what it is.

“Call me J,” the knight says the moment you’ve stepped foot outside of the palace. The setting sun shines dimly on the main road, and many of the vendors are beginning to pack up their belongings in order to head home.

“Okay, J,” you say suspiciously. Everything about him unsettles you slightly. Perhaps it’s the fact that behind the armor and the mask and the badges, he’s extremely good-looking. Or maybe it’s the fact that he swiped the top-ranking knight position right from your fingertips. It must be that. “It’s baffling to me that we haven’t met yet. If you’ve been in such high favor with the King and Queen, then I must have seen you somewhere.” You wonder if he can hear the bitterness lacing your features. You sure hope that he can.

“I guess our paths just never crossed,” J says, taking a bite out of a peach he just purchased from a farmer’s daughter, who was watching over the stall as her father haggled with another vendor. You watched as he winked to the girl as she gave him two peaches for the price of one. “I’m more on the ground than you are, am I not? You spend much of your time strategizing in the castle.”

“You don’t know what I do,” you huff out. He finishes the peach and wraps up the pip in a piece of cloth from his pocket before tucking it away. There is no place to dispose of it on the main street anyway.

“Don’t I?” J says with a sly grin, one that makes you want to kick him in the shin and push him into the grass. “Everyone knows what you do, Y/N. You were the King and Queen’s favorite.”

The way he uses the past tense doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“But, as it seems, being on the battlefield outweighs directing it from above,” J says. He keeps his eyes off of you and his head held high while your gaze focuses in on him out of pure fury, just another way to hold his newfound superiority over your head. Five minutes next to him and he already seems to know how to push every single one of your buttons.

“So it seems,” you say bitterly.

“You and I really must get along, Y/N,” J says casually as you begin to stray from the hustle of the main street. Neither of you seem to have a particularly clear destination in mind, only a path that must be taken for the sake of the greater good. It’s only the prospect that if you do well enough, you’ll impress the King and Queen and regain your favor with them that’s keeping you from socking J in the face and dashing off, taking his second peach with you. “We’ll be spending lots of time together.”

“Doesn’t that sound like the bee’s knees,” you mutter to yourself. For the greater good.

“Should it not?” J asks innocently. It makes you want to wipe that smirk right off of his face, that knowing tone in his voice. “I certainly don’t have a problem with you, Y/N. Do you happen to have one with me?”

He asks it because he knows that whatever you say will incriminate you. He knows that if you say no, you’re a goddamn liar, and that if you say yes, you’re weak. Weak because you’re admitting that you can’t handle spending time with him even though you have to. Weak because you’re showing him that he has power over you.

“No, of course not,” you say, plastering the fakest smile on your face. Two can play at this game. “In fact, would it be alright if I had that other peach? I’m absolutely starving.” You can be civil. If he can, at least.

“Sure thing,” J says, unwrapping the peach from the woven napkin the farmer’s daughter gave him.

You reach out to take it from him, but in the blink of an eye his hand dangles it over your head, too far out of reach for you to grab without losing all of your dignity in the process.

“What do we say, Y/N?” He asks sweetly, like a parent disciplining their child. God, everything he does absolutely aggravates you.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. Perhaps you aren’t on the front lines as often as he is, but you sure know how to fight. Maybe now is a good time to remind him that you received the same training he did.

“Please?” You ask, just as saccharine.

“As you request, Y/N,” J says with a bow, finally handing it over.

If this is what the next several months have in store for you, you wonder if maybe sinking down to a lower ranking might be worth it after all, especially if it means you’ll never have to see him and his bouncy hair and dark eyes again.

You take a bite into the peach. It’s sour.

Just your luck.

♚ HERE ♚

When you walk into work the next day, a hush falls over the room.

It’s not even as if the entire office has been quiet so far this workday, not as if the clock struck nine o’clock and everyone decided to start a competition to see who could shut up for the longest amount of time.

(For the record, if anyone were to win that competition, it would be Yoongi, who usually only speaks either 1) when spoken to or 2) to let someone know when they’re being dumb via insult. The first person to lose would be Namjoon, because his job description is to boss people around. And he’s awfully good at it.)

The elevator door dinged on the twenty-third floor and you could hear Hoseok’s loud gasps and Jungkook’s cackled laugh even through the glass door that separates your office from the rest of the companies that take up residence in this particular city skyscraper. And then, as your loafers tapped on the hard linoleum floor and the glass door creaked open, the entire office fell silent.

Quickly, you wonder if you’ve forgotten someone's birthday or if anybody’s due for a celebration of some sort. But nobody’s come to mind and the lights aren’t off, which means that this isn’t the kind of sudden silence that precedes a surprise party.

This is the kind of sudden silence that makes everybody go, “Oh shit.”

It feels like you’re walking on eggshells as you make your way over to your desk. You’re a couple minutes late due to oversleeping (for reasons that start with J and end with -ungkook) so everybody’s already here, and the office should be as boisterous and rowdy as always. And yet, something’s different.

You’re left entirely in the dark in concern with what the reasoning is, so you just decide that you’d rather not be the one to break the tense quiet that’s befallen your office and settle down, logging into your work desktop and checking today’s assignments on Slack.

Five minutes pass and you can’t help but think that, of the many, many days you’ve spent in this office with these people, this has got to be the most awkward by an overwhelmingly long shot. Not even the time Namjoon showed up with his hair dyed purple and traces of a sharpie drawing with a certain phallic design on his cheek was more awkward than this.

It seems that even Namjoon’s picked up on the vibe of your workspace today, walking in and out without a word. He wheels in a portable whiteboard from one of your meeting rooms and writes down everybody’s assignments on the board in his handwriting, which makes his O’s look like D’s.

Ten minutes in and this is the quietest your office has ever been in the history of mankind, probably. You’re almost convinced that genuinely no one will speak to each other until five o’clock, when Jimin’s end-of-work alarm goes off and you all pack up and go home, and that today’s workday is an exercise in meditation and peace, two things that are seldom available in your usual office environment.

And then, out of nowhere,

“Oh my God, I can’t take it anymore,” Hoseok says loudly, letting out a breath you didn’t even realize he had been holding. It’s highly unlikely that Hoseok spent the past ten minutes holding his breath because he wasn’t allowed to talk under your office’s societal norm of silence, but you honestly can’t put it past him. Speaking is essentially the equivalent of breathing to him. “I’ve been wanting to bother Jimin for not responding to my email from yesterday for the past five minutes. I don’t even know why we’re doing this, it’s clear that Y/N doesn’t care at all about what happened.”

“What don’t I care about?” You blurt out, equally as curious as everyone else also seems to release their baited breaths.

Hoseok and Jimin immediately begin to argue about appropriate email-response time between coworkers and Yoongi rolls a couple of feet over from his own desk to enlighten you.

“Jungkook told everyone that you had been docked from your top rank in Kingdom, and the whole office seems to have taken it very seriously,” Yoongi mutters into your ear, making you scrunch up your nose in exasperation. Is he kidding?

“That’s why everyone was so quiet? Because they didn’t want to bring it up?”

“I guess so, but I was just quiet because it was nice to have the whole office shut up for a few minutes in the morning,” Yoongi says with a shrug before wheeling back to his own desk, where an anime you vaguely recognize as Haikyuu!! is playing on his monitor.

Immediately, you whip around to meet eyes with Jungkook, who looks like he’s been expecting your furious glare all morning. He smiles guiltily and can offer you literally nothing other than a mouthed sorry because you two are in a workplace environment where shouting is, generally, socially unacceptable.

Despite your standing on the game, it’s easy to argue and even easier to prove that your coworkers care much more about Kingdom than you do. The loading screen of the castle in Monet’s art style is Hoseok’s desktop background. Jungkook has a little sword decoration next to his computer, and a couple of his pens are official Kingdom merch that you’re pretty sure he purchased from Hot Topic. Taehyung and Jimin play during their lunch break, the only time in the workday where shouting is socially acceptable, and the both of them came to last year’s Halloween party dressed as knights. Even Namjoon’s in on the game, though he rarely has time to play and usually has no idea what everyone else is referencing when they talk about Kingdom.

Contrastingly, you enjoy the game but very seldom do you actually broadcast that affection in public. You need to have at least some semblance of personal dignity in this absolute free-for-all of a place of employment.

So really, it’s no wonder that all of your coworkers acted like it was the end of the world when you got knocked from first place. To them, that would be like having a winning lottery ticket only to drop it onto train tracks and watch as the public transportation system has a field day with it.

“We’re really sorry, Y/N,” Taehyung says as he comes over and hands you a Tootsie Roll from the stash he keeps in one of his desk drawers for bad days. Apparently, this is a bad day. “Jungkook told us and we didn’t want to put salt in the wound.”

Even if their methodology was weird and slightly unsettling, the sentiment was there. “Thanks guys,” you tell Taehyung with a smile, “but I think you guys took it harder than I did.”

“Of course we did!” Jungkook says with a cry. He is objectively the most torn up out of the lot of you. “We had the top player in Kingdom in our very office, and now what! You were famous, Y/N! Whoever that bozo is who took your place is gonna feel the wrath of Jeon Jungkook and company.”

“Who’s feeling the wrath of Jeon Jungkook and company?” Seokjin asks as he strolls into the office, even later than you. To be fair, it’s looking like he’s got a box of a dozen Dunkin’ Donuts, which is enough for anyone to forgive him, even your hard headed boss. “Is it Jimin? Did he steal your Post-Its again? I saw he had a new pack.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen for barely a second before they narrow in on Jimin, who is already skirting away to find Namjoon so he can use him as a human shield. Jimin has quite the history of taking Jungkook’s office supplies only for a second and then failing to return it.

“No, but I’m gonna deal with him later,” Jungkook says, fishing through his office supplies on the hunt for his Post-it notes, which may or may not be currently in his possession. “We were just talking about how Y/N got knocked from the top spot in Kingdom by some asshat none of us have ever heard of, and now he’s going to feel the wrath. Of us. Specifically me, but also us.”

“What wrath?” Taehyung jokes. “You’re fresh out of college. You’re practically as intimidating as a baby bunny.”

Jungkook growls just for emphasis, and it only proves Taehyung’s point more. He’s always had a baby face.

“Well, I brought doughnuts to cheer everyone up,” Seokjin says, opening the box to reveal a dozen doughnuts of varying kinds that is likely to be finished within the next thirty seconds.

“Oh my God, Kim Seokjin, I love you,” Hoseok says before immediately taking one and a half and bouncing off.

“Save the pink-frosted one for me, will you? It’s my favorite,” Seokjin requests. He’s not even monitoring the box, too busy putting all his stuff away and getting settled at his desk. He’s basically asking to be robbed.

“Aw, I wanted that one,” you joke sadly, already going for the chocolate-frosted one with rainbow sprinkles. The box is nearly three-fourths empty. Even Namjoon’s materialized out of nowhere to take the glazed one to eat while he completes the next fifty-four things on his to-do list.

“Then let’s split it,” Seokjin says without missing a beat. Your heart does the exact opposite.

“Jimin, you wanna split one with me?” Taehyung asks.

“Ew, gross, no way, I want a whole one to myself,” Jimin immediately rejects.

“I’ll go and grab it,” Seokjin says, standing up to nab the doughnut for some evil being (by the name of Jimin) takes it for himself. He plucks it from the box and takes two napkins, too, walking over to your desk as he splits the doughnut in half.

“For you,” he says casually, like it isn’t making your heart beat out of your chest.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you say jokingly, taking the doughnut and placing it on the napkin he hands to you.

“Tell me about this Kingdom thing? You got knocked from first place?” Seokjin asks, making conversation as he lingers by your desk. It’s obvious that nobody’s going to be getting any work done.

“Yeah, but it’s really nothing special. Everyone was making a huge deal out of it, which you should be very glad you missed, because the first ten minutes of this workday were absolutely silent and it was awful in every way that something can be awful,” you tell him.

Seokjin laughs, and it warms you from the inside out. “Then I’m glad that I came late,” he says with a chuckle. “I couldn’t imagine a day where Jimin and Taehyung were silent for more than two minutes.”

“I lived through it,” you say, smiling. “Anyway, everyone seems to have gotten over the fact that I’m no longer the top-ranked Kingdom player. I’m kind of down about it myself, just because I worked really hard, but whoever it is that took over, I’m glad for them. I mean, it’s just a game.”

“That it is,” Seokjin says. “How about a toast to your Kingdom-playing skills, and to whoever it is that beat you.”

“Cheers,” you say, holding out your half of the doughnut.

“Cheers,” Seokjin echoes.

The two of you clink doughnuts, and they squish together awkwardly.

“You should bring doughnuts more often,” You muse.

“If it means we don’t have to work and can just talk like this, then I will,” Seokjin says as he takes a bite, already heading back over to his own desk. He waves goodbye with a smile, and only then do you finally indulge.

Sweet. As always.

♚ THERE ♚

When you were moved to the Military Tactics Unit, the King and Queen pulled you out of military training in favor of you spending more time working on strategies for the Kingdom’s armies rather than sparring with fellow Knights. It was a wise move on the part of Their Royal Highnesses, who feared losing you to a rebel group or warring kingdom, and you didn’t mind not having to engage in the physicality of training with those that would be spending more time on the battlefield.

And at the time, you saw it as a much-needed break from hand-to-hand combat training for years on end when you hadn’t set foot on the front lines in months. But now, that decision has decided to come back and bite you where it hurts.

Because as second-in-command to the Head of the Knights, you (and J, both luckily and unluckily) are tasked with the important duty of supervising the military training of the new recruits. This spells doom in various ways, some of which include (and are not limited to):

Having to spend more time with J.

Having to spend more time with J without letting all of the recruits know you both vastly dislike each other.

Having to spend more time with J in a scenario in which there is constant hand-to-hand combat.

Having to spend more time with J without being able to make up an excuse about needing to attend to urgent military business in order to leave.

Having to spend more time with J.

Attempting to remember how to spar.

So, in essence, you’re screwed.

This is the mindset with which you walk into your very first training session in over six months, a few minutes late, of course. Recently you’ve been attempting to calculate the maximum amount of time you can spend either being tardy or leaving early from events that involve J without you facing any repercussions. So far it’s been working out well.

When you walk in the door, before you can greet any of the recruits or even offer J a slightly sarcastic wave, he says, “Look who’s finally shown up,” loud enough for all of the recruits to turn to look as you stroll in tardy.

“I got held up by a vendor on the main road, my apologies,” you lie like a liar. It’s obvious that J does not believe you whatsoever, but it satisfies the recruits, who return to their business as usual.

“Well, you’re just in time for warm-up,” J says, false positivity radiating throughout every single word.

You walk up to where he stands at the front of the room, wearing much less of his official armor than he normally is. Right now, he stands in front of you in a plain tan cotton shirt and training pants, similar to the rest of the recruits. It’s really quite jarring, to see him dressed so differently from what he usually wears—dark armor and scarlet red sashes. It makes him seem… almost softer.

“Thought you might have bailed on me,” J mutters into your ear as the recruits begin to stretch.

“Have a little more faith in me, for God’s sake,” you grumble in return. You may not like him, but you aren’t about to abandon your responsibilities just because of a little bit of distaste.

“Do you wanna take warm-up, or should I?” He offers, motioning to the recruits. They all look so nervous, so desperate to prove themselves on the first day of training. It reminds you of yourself, like you’re looking into a mirror and a time machine all at once.

“You’re the boss,” you say, unabashedly letting the bitterness seep through your tone. “You choose.”

Unsurprisingly, J decides to let you handle the warm-up session, something that is just a precursor to the main event and therefore, not as important. He takes a couple of steps back and follows your instructions as you go through stretches and basic movements in combat, allowing all of the recruits to get a feel for what knighthood is really like in the Kingdom of Kalar. Warm-up was always your least favorite part during training, so boring in comparison to the sparring and hand-to-hand combat that you would engage in soon after. Sure, it was necessary, but when you were a wide-eyed, overeager trainee, you were willing to risk a pulled muscle if it meant you could beat someone up sooner.

With this in mind, you wrap up the session in a fairly timely manner, letting the recruits do their own stretching after everything absolutely necessary has been covered. It also means that you can sit back and let J do most of the heavy lifting, which, while you’re bitter about him getting all of the attention, is better than having to do it yourself based solely upon memory. You remember combat well enough to handle yourself in the battlefield, but the technicalities of training have completely slipped your memory by now.

J and everything else about him may leave a sour taste in your mouth, but you have to admit that he’s a good teacher and an even better morale booster. This must come from his experience out in the field, on the front lines, where raising his troops’ spirits came as a necessary quality to develop when times were tough.

He speaks slowly, explains everything in enough detail to cover all of the bases without losing attention, and frequently opens up the floor for questions. And as per usual, the recruits already begin to cling to him like vines, desperate to soak up every ounce of knowledge that he doles out.

J doesn’t need the ego boost, that’s for certain.

“Now that I’ve gone through everything, I believe that the best way to learn how to spar is just to start doing it, even if you haven’t the slightest clue what you’re doing. Despite what you may think about me, experience is the best teacher,” he says with a smile, earning a laugh from the crowd.

You roll your eyes.

“Um, sir?” A timid recruit raises her hand, her body curled in on herself. You take one look at her, and know that she’ll come out of her shell soon enough.

“Yes, a question?” J asks.

“Would you mind giving a demonstration? Just so we can watch. So we, well, don’t injure ourselves or each other while we’re sparring.”

A demonstration? You blink, having awoken from the trance you had placed yourself in one J stepped up to take over the training session. Doesn’t a demonstration mean… well, you and him?

J seems to come to this realization at the same time that you do, and grins wildly, giddy. He knows exactly how much you’ll hate doing this, which is all the more reason to say yes. “Of course, we’d be happy to. Y/N?”

You hold in the sigh you’ve been wanting to let out for about five minutes now, taking a deep exhale as you turn to face J. You’ve been in close proximity to him before, but you are about to get a whole lot closer.

“If you say so,” you say with a shrug, trying to keep this as lighthearted and casual as possible. Though, both of those things are likely to be tossed out the window now that you’re about to spar with your worst enemy.

J grabs a mat from the side of the room to lay down on the floor in front of you, and the two of you step onto it. Instantly, you’re transported back to when you were still in training, bouncing up and down on your feet with your fists raised in front of you, ready to take on the next recruit. You had always been quite good at sparring, back then.

Now is a completely different story.

“Are you ready?” J asks as you face each other in front of a crowd of recruits, all of whom are watching you with hawk-like intensity.

“Guess I can’t say ‘no’, can I?” You joke, though if J offers you a way out of this, you’d gladly take it, shame and dignity be damned.

“Well then, do your worst.”

He’s an open target. You’ve never been given an opportunity to sock him in the face before now, and you’d absolutely love to take it, but this is a sparring session, not a revenge session. That can be saved for a later date. Instead, you bounce on your feet like a nervous, excitable recruit, and aim for his neck.

He easily dodges, but you expected that, and counter his attack with your leg. It goes back and forth like this, as your muscle memory kicks in and you remember exactly what sparring was like back in your training sessions. For a few seconds in the middle of it, you genuinely think you and him are on a pretty level playing field.

And then—

One punch gone wrong and he’s got you lifted up off of the ground and onto his back, having grabbed your wrist at the perfect time to hoist you over his shoulder. You gasp in shock, body not necessarily remembering this part, and then—

He slams the both of you down onto the mat, your back hitting the cushion with a thud as the breathe gets knocked from your lungs. You definitely haven’t done this part in a while.

You know the recruits are all watching you intently, but you refuse to lose like this, even if this is normally the part where the person pinned underneath the other one surrenders. With both of your arms and all of your force, you attempt to shove J off of you by using your elbow to punch him in the chest. If you go down (which you most certainly will), you will go down with a fight.

He sees your move coming from a mile away, and immediately pins both of your arms above your head with a simple swish of his hand. The other one is holding up his body by your head as you both stare at each other, breathing heavily. His leg sits in between both of yours, resting up against your thigh, and his head hovers a very dangerous less-than-three inches away from your own. If a particularly near-sighted person were to stumble upon the both of you, you’d be absolutely screwed.

The both of you gaze into each other’s eyes for a second, the wind knocked out of you. You never quite realized what his face looks like up close. His cheeks are bright red. But it’s a second too long because the recruits have gone silent, refusing to applaud or do anything else to signal that the sparring match is over.

And then, it feels like a million years pass as J slowly removes himself from on top of your body, standing up and dusting his hands off before leaning down and offering his hand to help you up. Too floored and absolutely speechless to reject his extended palm like you normally would, you grab onto his hand and let him hoist you up, unable to speak.

“How was that for a demonstration?” J asks the recruits, who are all blinking like they’ve just witnessed something far too shocking for their liking.

Another trainee, a boisterous young man who walked into today’s session with his energy fully up and his eyes on the prize, raises his hand. “Could you show us again?”

You and J take one look at each other.

No. Way.

♚ HERE ♚

Because your office is both tightly knit and also uncannily resembles a cast of grown adults playing various high school stereotypes in a Hallmark movie, every year you do Office Superlatives. Office superlatives are basically an excuse for everyone to come up with a way to insult each other 1) while getting paid to do so and 2) without facing any repercussions whatsoever.

For three years in a row, your office has designated you as “Most Likely to Spill Coffee on Someone Really Important”, a superlative that came about because on your very first day, you spilled your coffee on the one and only Kim Namjoon, who you then mistook as your boss, and thus ensued the most embarrassing one minute and thirteen seconds of your entire life in front of a bunch of colleagues you would have to see every weekday for the foreseeable future.

Thankfully, you haven’t spilled your coffee on anyone important since then, even if you do regularly knock over your pencil cup and send every pastel-colored highlighter flying across the hardwood floor. It became such a frequent occurrence that, for April Fool’s Day last year, Taehyung and Jimin taped every single thing on your desk to your desk to see how long it would take you to notice.

(It took you over three weeks, but that’s besides the point.)

“I know that the saying is ‘the customer is always right’, but this client I’m working with right now is literally wrong,” Taehyung says with a sigh. He collapses back in his office chair, mindlessly playing with the fur of the stuffed Pomeranian dog he keeps on his desk, staring down the email on his desktop. “Like, I’m not Squarespace or Wix. Either you pay me to design your website entirely, or you do it yourself. I’m not a drag-and-drop of a person, and I don’t get paid to be consulted on every font choice.”

“Didn’t you write on your resume that you can identify every standard Microsoft font without being told the name?” Yoongi asks with a frown from across the office. He’s making the most of his gigantic desktop computer, and has a tab open with One Punch Man right next to a Photoshop logo design he’s working on.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I want to do it,” Taehyung says with a frown. “I need someone who knows how to let people down easily.”

“Jimin?” Hoseok pipes up unhelpfully, earning an eraser to the face from Jimin, who is notorious for going on a bunch of first dates and very, very seldom going on a second one. You don’t even think that for the entire time you’ve known him, he’s ever gone a third date with someone. Ever.

“Do not make fun of my lifestyle choices!” Jimin shouts out defensively. “I just like meeting new people.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok says like a white girl in a Disney Channel Original Movie, “and then never meeting them again.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken,” Jimin tells him pointedly, already beginning to stand up from his office chair to attempt to further convince him that serial-first-dating isn’t all that bad. “Two weeks ago, I saw this guy that I had gone on a date with last year and he told me that his friend was starting up a small pet barbershop business and needed help with the graphic design for his company. Now I’m designing this guy’s logo and backsplash for his wall.” He says matter-of-factly.

Hoseok frowns. “So, what I’m hearing is that you saw a guy you had gone on a date with last year, and what you got out of it, was more work.”

Jimin opens his mouth to say something else, but he flounders. Hoseok cackles to himself, shaking his head because Jimin’s just proved his point further.

“I’ll ask Seokjin,” Taehyung says with a sigh. “He could tell me that I’ve lost my job and that I’m getting evicted from my apartment and I would thank him.”

Amen.

“Hey, where is Seokjin?” Jungkook asks, spinning around in his office chair for the most efficient way to scan the entire office in search of the man. “He was just here watching One Punch Man with Yoongi.”

“I didn’t even notice he had gotten up,” Yoongi says, turning to the empty spot next to him where Seokjin once was.

“I’ll go look for him, I need to grab something from the printer, anyway,” you volunteer, pushing your chair back, standing up, and avoiding the gazes of anybody in the office who happens to have knowledge of your not-so-secret secret crush. This means that you are staring down at the lines of the wooden planks in the floor as you walk over to the back hallway, because every single person in the room currently has at least… well… some insight.

“He’s all yours, Y/N,” Taehyung wolf whistles, making you roll your eyes as you head down the hallway.

Too busy counting the planks that make up the hardwood floor and hoping that you’ll maybe be able to identify Seokjin by the shoes he’s wearing rather than anything else, you don’t look at where you’re going as you make a beeline for the printing room. That is, you make a beeline for the printing room until you crash right into an unsuspecting colleague.

“Oh, shit!” Said colleague cries out.

Oh God.

You look up to find Seokjin standing in front of you, a nearly-empty cup of low-grade office coffee in his hand, and a growing brown stain on his pale blue dress shirt. One look on the floor and there’s a puddle of coffee gathered at your feet, wet splotches on your flats and his loafers.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Seokjin asks, eyes wide and apologetic as he immediately searches for some place to put down his coffee to avoid any more casualties. He looks right at you, making you want to curl in on yourself, before his eyes train down to your torso.

Only then do you realize he’s not shamelessly staring at your chest, but rather at the massive brown stain on the front of your blouse, quickly seeping into the fabric, the scalding temperature of the coffee having gone right over your head the moment you realized who exactly it was that you crashed into.

“Uh…” you stammer, brain crashing as everything that’s just happened in the past thirty seconds catches up to you all at once.

“Oh my God, I’m such a mess,” Seokjin says, fumbling awkwardly as he finally finds a trash can to toss his sad lump of a coffee cup into.

No you’re not, you want to tell him, but the words don’t come out and you’re left standing there, looking sort of like you blame him for everything, when in reality, you just have no idea how to function in front of him.

“Coffee stains,” Seokjin says, hands fishing through his seemingly bottomless pants pockets (he could probably fit an entire Nintendo Switch and its dock in there) until he pulls out this measly little thing that vaguely resembles your orange highlighter. “Here, I have a Tide To-Go pen.”

Before you can tell him that you can just deal with the stain and wash it in the privacy of your own home where you don’t look like a bumbling idiot, he grabs your hand and pulls you into the gender neutral bathroom nearby, locking the door as the light flickers on.

“Here, do you need help?” Seokjin asks, holding out his Tide To-Go pen as he wets a paper towel made of entirely recycled materials and begins fruitlessly dabbing at his shirt.

“I’m alright, really,” you insist, staring into the mirror and trying desperately to avoid the fact that Seokjin’s shirt becomes transparent when it’s wet. Maybe quitting your job and moving to another city doesn’t sound unappealing after all. “I can just get it out with OxiClean at my apartment, Seokjin, seriously.”

“Are you sure? That’s what the Tide To-Go pen is for,” Seokjin says, holding it out towards you again as a final attempt to get you to use it.

“No offense, Seokjin, but I don’t know if the Tide To-Go pen is even going to make a dent in the stain on my shirt,” you chuckle, the only thing you can think of to get him to stop offering the thing to you. The Tide To-Go pen is meant for when you accidentally get a bit of ketchup onto your jeans as you move the french fry from your plate to your mouth. Not when you’ve got a giant coffee stain on the front of your shirt.

“God, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Seokjin says, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt to try and get a better grip on the fabric as he relentlessly scrubs at it. God help you. He may as well take the whole thing off at this point—though you really, really hope that he doesn’t. “I’m such a klutz.”

“No, it’s my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you tell him. You still know that you passed by 107 wooden planks before you crashed into him, because that is what you do when you don’t want to look anyone in the eye.

“Seriously, though, I had the cup of coffee. I feel really bad, I could pay to get it dry cleaned for you?” He offers, eyes wide and in search of some way to make it up to you.

“No, no, that’s not necessary. I’m can handle a stain, Seokjin. I’m an adult. I live in my own apartment and everything,” you say firmly, refusing to accept anything else from him. God, if he paid for your dry-cleaning, you’d never be able to live that down. “Maybe I’ll finally stop being voted Most Likely to Spill Coffee on Someone Important,” you joke, trying to make light of the fact that you’re standing in the tiny gender-neutral bathroom together, Seokjin’s practically got half of his transparent dress shirt unbuttoned, and you both have massive and very conspicuous brown stains on your tops. All wonderful, wonderful things.

At this point, Seokjin stares down at his shirt and, quite frankly, just gives up, smoothing out his shirt as best as he can and tossing the poor, now-coffee-colored paper towel away.

“I suppose it’s high time we give you a break for always knocking over that pencil cup of yours,” Seokjin jokes back as he opens the door, motioning for you to leave first.

“We should invest in some Velcro for it,” you suggest, making Seokjin chuckle as he shuts the door behind him.

“Uh… what the fuck?”

The two of you are stopped in your tracks by a particularly suspicious Taehyung, who just witnessed the two of you walk out of the same bathroom with both of your clothes fairly askew.

“It’s not what it looks like,” you immediately tell him, eyes wide. Count on him to get the wrong idea.

“Okay,” Taehyung says, eyes narrowed. “Sure.”

“Taehyung, come on, I spilled coffee on the both of us,” Seokjin attempts, but Taehyung is absolutely not having it.

“That’s what they all say,” he says cryptically, nodding as he heads to the printer room with his eyes still narrowed. He glares at the both of you until he rounds the corner, out of sight, and by then your cheeks have heated up so badly you think you might actually start sweating.

“Now the whole office is going to think we’re dating,” you say, somewhat jokingly but also somewhat seriously. There’s no way Taehyung’s going to be able to keep his mouth shut for any longer than the next five minutes.

Seokjin laughs, looking at you and shrugging. “There are worse things, right?”

Are there?

♚ THERE ♚

“Oh, Y/N!”

You inhale.

Of all of the places in the Kingdom that J has not yet infiltrated and ruined for you, the small cafe on the edge of the kingdom borders has to have been the last one. You discovered it while you were on night watch as a baby knight, a task given to those too dedicated to the job to release but not yet prepared enough to fight on the front lines. It’s a quiet place, open more hours of the day than closed, owned by an old lady with no other family to take care of the business. You’ve already promised her that after she passes, you will immediately begin funding the cafe yourself, too much money on your hands and not enough wonderful places like this to spend it on.

When days are loud and hectic, when the King and Queen and all of their military advisors are stressed and have been snapping at you all day, this is where you come. The old lady keeps her door open especially for you (at least that’s what she tells you), always with a steaming cup of jasmine tea and a wise old story to tell you. Sometimes, you’ll get to tell a story back, and you exchange words of wisdom from a knight at the highest ranking in the kingdom and an elder with many years of experience in the kingdom behind her. She always tells you, “keep your eyes wide and your heart open, because things can only enter it if you’re looking out for them.”

You’ve held those words close to your soul ever since the first time you heard them.

But when your eyes are wide and staring down a certain knight in the kingdom who seems to have stumbled upon your one sacred place, you’re a little bothered, to say the least.

You exhale.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you say sourly, the scalding tea burning your tongue as you take a sip.

“I’ve never seen this place before,” J admits helplessly, already bowing to the old lady who runs the place. He introduces himself handsomely, and much like everyone else bewitched by his good looks and unrealistically charismatic personality, she immediately warms up to him.

“I wish it could stay that way,” you mumble to yourself, far too quiet for anyone except you and your tea to hear. “It’s far away,” you say to him as the lady ushers him to the seat next to yours, already promising him tea on the house. You sigh. “Wouldn’t expect you to go hunting for a nice tea place when there are so many wonderful places in the city.”

“I guess it’s nice to branch out,” J says with a shrug. “I have to say that I don’t really go out to cafes all that often. Too busy.”

“You know I understand how that goes,” you tell him honestly. For once, it’s something you can actually relate to. “But I think that it’s important to take a break from our duties and just relax. We don’t have much time to do that, you know.”

The lady brings over tea, and J insists he pay her for it despite her insistence for him not to. She shuffles off into the back before he can even get out some coins.

“Tell me, where can I leave this? I feel terrible not paying,” J asks you. It catches you off guard, really, mostly because he seems to be the kind of person who walks around the center square winking at every vendor in the hopes of receiving free merchandise.

“Oh,” you say, embarrassingly speechless. “Well, I suppose I could take it and give it to her. If we left rather soon then we could simply leave it on the counter for her to find. It’s likely that she won’t come back out for a while, since I have company.”

“Am I your company, Y/N?” J asks, almost teasingly. It makes you want to chuck your cup of jasmine tea into his face.

“Don’t think too much of it,” you advise him, a warning to tell him to knock it off. “We’re just here together.”

“Lucky us,” J says, holding up his cup of tea for a toast. You indulge him (begrudgingly so), letting your glasses clink together as you both finish a much needed warm drink on a chilly afternoon.

Too soon, the respite of the cafe is broken by a knock at the door. You both turn to find a messenger waiting patiently outside the cafe, motioning for J to come and speak to him.

“If you’ll excuse me,” J says, scooting back his chair and heading over, shutting the door behind him.

The moment the door closes, the old lady reappears from the back of the room, collecting your finished cups as you both listen intently to the murmuring outside.

“That young man mentioned that the two of you spend lots of time together,” the muses, cleaning the cups with a wet rag. She’s got a knowing look in her eye, like she’s picked up on something the both of you seem to have overlooked.

“We’re both knights,” you correct. It’s important to you that she knows that you don’t spend time together out of personal preference. It’s merely obligation. “So we see each other quite often.”

“I’ve never seen him around before,” she says pointedly, “but he seems to know quite a lot about you.”

“Oh, not really,” you insist. How could he? You’ve barely known him a month. Still, it’s clear that the lady doesn’t believe you.

“As you say,” she says, skeptical.

You’re about to open your mouth and reject her notions further, but then the door opens up again, and J looks terribly apologetic as he walks inside, joining your side. “We’ve been called in.”

As per usual, the Kingdom appears with impeccable timing to ruin the rest of your afternoon. It has a striking tendency to do that.

“For what?” You ask, exasperated. J doesn’t look much happier.

“Criminal hearings,” J says, and the words make you you toss your head back and sigh.

Criminal hearings and its many, many procedures are quite possibly your least favorite part of being a top-ranked royal knight. With your knowledge of the ins and outs of the military and the kingdom’s inner workings, as well as with you being an advisor to the generals and the King and Queen, you are often obligated to attend these, just in case there is a desperate need for the technicalities of military crimes that no one else can provide. It is, admittedly, extremely boring, since you can’t really offer any sort of insight or opinion on the actual criminal and their crime at hand.

“Fine,” you say, suddenly much less energized than you were approximately thirty seconds ago. “I suppose that we’ll have to be on our way.”

“Ma’am,” J says, attracting the attention of the old lady behind the counter. He holds out some coins, palm facing up. “Please accept this from me. I couldn’t leave without paying you for your wonderful tea and service.”

“Oh, pish posh,” the lady says with a shake of her hand. “Any friend of Y/N’s is well-deserving of some tea. You both work very hard. You should take any opportunity that presents itself to relax, and enjoy being young.”

“Please,” J insists, placing the coins in her hand, “a token of my gratitude. We shall return soon, right Y/N?” He gives your shoulder a nudge, making you look up at him. Return? You’d be blessed if J forgot about this place entirely, though you know that he’s bound to come back soon.

Perhaps there are worse things than losing your favorite cafe to him. Perhaps, you can simply learn to enjoy his company, instead.

“Of course, how could I resist?” You say, waving goodbye to the lady at the counter. “We really must be going, but I shall see you soon.”

“Take care of yourselves, the both of you!” She sees you off with a smile and a wink directed right at you for a cause you aren’t too keen on picking up. Old ladies are always so vague.

When you walk outside, you’re surprised to find yourselves alone. “Where’s the messenger guard?” You ask, looking around to see if he’s found a tree to take respite from the sun under.

J laughs, warm and hearty. “I sent him off, told him we would be able to make it ourselves.”

“Oh, alright,” you say with a shrug, already beginning to trudge the familiar path towards the castle.

You take six steps before realizing that J is neither next to you nor following you, still standing on the porch of the cafe as the sun makes his hair glimmer a dark caramel in the light.

“Aren’t you coming?” You turn around to ask, an eyebrow raised as you tap your foot on the cobblestone road.

“Have you ever skipped a criminal hearing before, Y/N?” J asks, and the very notion of bailing makes your eyes go wide.

“Skipped?” You clarify.

“That’s what I said,” J confirms.

“No…” You trail off, feeling more and more like the try hard you once were while training, wide-eyed and eager to prove yourself. Standing in front of him, rocking back and forth on your toes and twiddling your fingers as he steps off of the porch, taking long strides to reach you, makes you feel so nervous. With every step he takes closer to you, your heart begins to beat faster, faster, faster.

“Well,” J says, reaching out his hand to take hold of your own. “Would you like to start?”

When you were stationed on the Kingdom’s borders, you thought you had explored every nook and cranny of Kala. You had wandered through forests, across rivers, and into small edge villages with goods you had never even heard of before. You thought you had seen it all.

Clearly, you were mistaken.

J pulls you off of the cobblestone path and immediately takes you into the woods that surround the cafe, weaving past trees and ferns and grass alike. This time of year, the forest is ripe with greenery, right when summer is coming to an end but the leaves have yet to begin to fade to brown. Even without landmarks or a path to guide him, J seems to know exactly where the two of you are going, like he’s taken this road a million times before. And still, you had never seen him before this.

It’s a wonder that the two of you missed each other for so long.

“Where are we going, J?” You ask, laughing as the exhilaration of skipping your duties in favor of a fun day in the forest begins to flow through your veins. You’ve never done this before.

“Just wait, you’ll see,” he says cryptically, taking you down a large hill. You must be out of the Kingdom borders by now, with how far you’ve been going, and yet, no one had ever thought to place guards in this area.

Five more minutes of travelling and you’re near convinced that J is about to take you to some cave in the floor of the forest and murder you, when he tugs you up a hill to reveal—

It’s a clearing with grass so green you’d almost think it was enchanted. The leaves of the trees whisper to each other, voices flowing with the wind that breezes by each and every one, saying hello to the branches as they rustle. Tall grass and ferns grow on the edge of the forest, disguising the clearing to anyone who wouldn’t bother to keep looking, make their way through the overgrowth and into the oasis.

Never in a million years would you have been able to find this place on your own.

“What do you think?” J asks excitedly as he pulls you into the middle of the clearing, where the leaves of the trees have left an opening for the sun to shine through, a halo in the middle of the forest.

“I—I’m speechless,” you say, eyes wandering from every piece of bark to every blade of grass. You’ve always loved your Kingdom and its beauty, from the extravagant castle to the little shacks on the border, but this is more than that. This isn’t just beauty—it’s magic. “How did you find this place?”

“Strayed from the pack during military training outside,” he says guiltily. Clearly, skipping out on responsibilities has become a habit of J’s.

“Unbelievable,” you say, fingers tracing along the wildflowers growing close to the forest floor. You take a seat in the middle of it all, letting the sun stream through the leaves as the flowers open their petals at your touch. It’s as if every single living thing has been enchanted—like none of this could exist naturally.

“Do you like it?” J asks, taking a seat on the stone next to you. He reaches down to run his fingers through the grass, letting the soft dirt gather on his skin.

“I don’t think I have the words,” you tell him. You thought you had found a hidden respite from the hustle and bustle, but he has found not just a respite. He’s found a home. “Why would you show me this place?”

“What do you mean?” J asks. He finds a small yellow flower, a buttercup, and plucks it from the ground, twirling it between his fingers.

“I mean, why would you bring me here? Wouldn’t you want to keep this place all for yourself?” You inquire, curious. Certainly, that’s what you would do.

J pauses for a moment, staring down at the buttercup in his hands. Wordlessly, he hands it to you, watches as your fingers touch his own, taking the buttercup from him. You twirl it between your fingers, and wonder what all of this means.

“No,” he eventually answers. “Because a place like this deserves to be shared with the people that deserve to see it.”

♚ HERE ♚

[You have 5 unread messages]

Jungkook (5:53PM): Is it still acceptable to talk about Kingdom at company dinners? Jungkook (5:53PM): Is the ban that Yoongi instated last company dinner still going? Do you think he’ll be mad if I talk about how I just got a bunch of gold from solving the mystery of the time capsule?

Yoongi (5:55PM): If I have to sit through another company dinner where everyone is talking about Kingdom and nobody is talking about anime or my dog Holly I will lose it

Taehyung (5:57PM): You’re coming, right? You mentioned having a thing that ended pretty late this evening so you weren’t sure you’d make it

Seokjin (6:03PM): Excited to see you tonight! Promise I won’t spill anything on you tonight haha

Your office’s annual company dinner is the one and only opportunity you, as employees, get per year to talk about whatever you like in front of your colleagues, all while getting a meal paid for by your wonderfully unassuming, hardheaded boss. It is both a celebration of camaraderie and, of course, being employed, and a chance for your personal group to talk about Kingdom for two hours straight without repercussions.

Needless to say, many of you are looking forward to it.

To Jungkook (6:07PM): Yes, but only if we get to talk about how I’m still the best at the game out of everyone To Jungkook (6:07PM): Also, don’t forget to talk to Yoongi about My Hero Academia I know that you secretly love it

To Yoongi (6:08PM): Bring earplugs? Or maybe a manga book to get the conversation going?

To Taehyung (6:08PM): Yeah, I’ll be there To Taehyung (6:08PM): Probably be late though To Taehyung (6:09PM): Save me a seat!

To Seokjin (6:10PM): Not sure if I can promise the same thing! Fingers crossed we make it out tonight unscathed by scalding hot liquids

The company dinner starts at 6:30, which means that it really starts at 7:00 by the time everyone arrives, but even still, you’ll probably be late because you are actually doing last-minute laundry, and not attending a special event like you had told Taehyung. Sue you. Your clothes were dirty.

Standing in the middle of your apartment wearing the slouchiest clothes you own, you wonder if it’s even worth going when you know that you will probably 1) be late and 2) have to endure two hours worth of Kingdom talk and other things that leave you thoroughly embarrassed, like your nonexistent love life.

You’ve never skipped out on a company dinner before, but then again, never have all of your colleagues been so on top of you about your very insignificant, not at all soul-crushing, extremely minimal, super unimportant, tiny little infatuation with a certain coworker, so there’s that to consider.

Not to mention the fact that your entire office genuinely believes that the two of you hooked up in the gender neutral bathroom during the middle of the workday, which is a circumstance so improbable you have no idea how Taehyung managed to convince everybody that that was actually what happened. It’s not as if your coworkers didn’t see the ridiculous brown stains on the front of your and Seokjin’s shirts, or didn’t smell the office coffee stench all over the both of you.

So, for once in your life, you are genuinely considering just staying at home, finishing your laundry, and eating the frozen veggie burritos you bought from Costco two weeks ago. It sounds very tempting.

This thought is immediately combated by the fact that you usually have some of the most fun during the year at this company dinner, and a free meal at a nice, upscale restaurant is something that you would normally never pass up. But then again, Seokjin will be there and he will be dressed very nicely, and the rest of your coworkers will also be there, and they will be relentless.

Jungkook (6:33PM): Tae said you’d be late but please come soon! We can’t talk about Kingdom without the best player present!!!! Jungkook (6:33PM): Oh no Namjoon sees me with my phone

And out of every possible text you could have received that night, that one is the one that convinces you to pull out the same dress you’ve worn to the company dinner (it’s not as if anyone else will remember) every other year, tug it on, and head out. Your Costco veggie burritos will have to wait for another stay-at-home night.

You arrive fashionably late as always, walking into the restaurant and just asking for directions to where the “big group of loud office workers” is, a term easily identifiable by the scrambled hostess with fifteen different tables to seat all at once. She points you to the back room, where you can already hear Hoseok’s laughter from outside in the main dining area.

“You guys are loud,” you say in lieu of a greeting, everyone letting out cries of “Y/N!” and “You made it!” as you look around for the last empty seat.

“Here, saved you a spot right next to me,” Seokjin volunteers helpfully, motioning to the empty velvet chair next to him. In the seat next to that sits Taehyung, who is grinning guiltily, like he didn’t just dupe you into thinking he had saved you a seat next to him and someone else other than the person you were hoping not to embarrass yourself in front of.

“Thinking of me when I’m not even here, how thoughtful,” you say, walking over and sending a glare Taehyung’s way as you take your seat, the glass at the top right corner of your placemat already filled.

“How could we forget about you?” Seokjin reasons, and he says it so casually but it makes your heart flutter all the same.

When Seokjin’s finally started talking to Hoseok and Jimin on his other side, the two of them attempting to explain the inner workings of Kingdom to him (to little avail, as per usual), you round on Taehyung, who is every bit the best wingman and the worst friend in the entire world.

“How could you do this to me?” You hiss at him, trying not to attract the attention of the man sitting on the opposite side of you.

“I said I had saved you a seat!” Taehyung says defensively, clearly enjoying himself way too much.

“This was not what I had in mind,” you tell him pointedly.

“Obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t have hidden it from you,” Taehyung says. He motions to Seokjin, who’s laughing at something that Jimin’s just said, eyes crinkled into half moons as the waiter places the cocktail he’s ordered down in front of him. “You know, it’s not so bad having a crush on him, right?”

“He is our coworker and way out of my league, of course it is,” you remind Taehyung.

Taehyung shrugs you off with a wave of his hand. “Give yourself some credit, Y/N. You’re hot. Embrace it.”

“I will not, thank you very much. This conversation makes me want to hurl,” you say as normally as possible, blinking to show your discomfort to Taehyung.

“You need to stop being so afraid of what might actually come out of this,” Taehyung says, a reassuring hand on your arm. “You never know what might happen.”

“What’s definitely going to happen is that I’m going to feel too cold from the vent above my head, and we’re going to switch seats,” you say. You immediately make to stand up, but Taehyung grabs onto your wrist and looks up at you like a child begging for candy in a supermarket.

“Please, Y/N? Just give it a try, and if you hate it by the time the entree comes around, we can switch. Alright?” He asks, a simple compromise to get you to sit back down.

You sigh. You suppose it wouldn’t hurt to shoot your shot, no matter how terrible your aim is.

“I didn’t order any soup, so hopefully we can last through this dinner without ruining more of our clothes,” Seokjin says, an icebreaker to ease the obvious tension between the two of you. He breaks down your walls so easily, carves out a path in the side of it to waltz right through.

“I don’t know,” you say sarcastically,” you better finish that cocktail soon or we might both be in big trouble.”

Seokjin chuckles, warm and full, and takes another sip of the fruity drink for good measure. “Don’t know how you keep getting crowned Most Likely to Spill Coffee on Someone Important when I’m here, a walking coffee volcano.”

“When the superlatives roll around, I’ll petition the court and see if we can crown you instead,” you promise.

“I’m honored. I’ll cherish that title for as long as I live,” Seokjin jokes, bowing to you just for good measure. “This is nice, you know.”

“What is?” You ask, peering down at the large group menu. Everything looks awfully delicious and awfully expensive, so you just go for a classic pasta dish and hope that Taehyung orders something different, so you can try each other’s.

“Sitting next to you,” Seokjin says like it’s obvious, making you blink at your menu like it’s just offended your entire family ancestry. “I don’t think we��ve ever been paired up like this at a company dinner.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?” You ask hopefully.

“It’s nice,” Seokjin says. “I feel like we don’t get to talk very much at work.”

“You said you’d bring more doughnuts,” you remind him. Seokjin has held up on his promise, actually, and since the first round of doughnuts, he’s brought on two more occasions to brighten up everybody’s day.

“I think I need a better excuse than doughnuts,” Seokjin says to himself. “I can’t keep going to Dunkin’ right before work, pretty soon all of the workers will know me by name and that is a level that I’m not sure I’d like to reach yet.”

“Don’t feel bad,” you tell him, a hand instinctively coming to rest on his shoulder as comfort. “Some of the Costco employees recognize me even when I’m wearing my sunglasses inside.”

“You wear your sunglasses inside Costco?” Seokjin asks with a laugh.

“Sometimes I just forget to take them off when I walk from my car into the store!” You say defensively. “It’s really bright in there, sue me.”

“No, no, I think it’s cute,” Seokjin assures you. “Maybe being recognized by the Dunkin’ employees won’t be that bad. At least they probably wouldn’t know who I was if I had my sunglasses on.”

“I’m being attacked, I’m pretty sure,” you say pointedly.

“Only affectionately. You’re still ridiculously endearing.” Seokjin says with a chuckle, smiling at you as Jungkook calls your name to tell him something about Kingdom that he’s forgotten. But even as Seokjin gets tugged into another conversation and you get pulled into your own, your brain can’t help but replay the sound of his voice in your head, over and over.

You’re still ridiculously endearing.

“Hey, Jungkook,” Jimin asks over a mouthful of complimentary bread with olive oil. “Did you ever figure out who knocked Y/N from the top spot in Kingdom?”

“No,” Jungkook cries out, suddenly thirsty for justice. “It makes me so mad that I don’t know who they are, especially since they’re getting all the in-game brand deals and Y/N gets nothing,” he says pointedly as he motions to you, clearly exasperated for a cause that wasn’t even his to begin with.

“Jungkook, it’s not a big deal, it’s just a game,” you remind him, the table too wide to reach over and pat his hand comfortingly. “I still get a lot of things in second place.”

“What’s Jungkook talking about?” Seokjin asks, motioning to where Jungkook seems to be on a rampage as Jimin and Namjoon listen in.

“Oh, Kingdom, like always,” you say fondly. “He’s determined to figure out the name of the person who dethroned me.”

“Is that so?” Seokjin asks with a laugh. “He’s got his work cut out for him. How many people play Kingdom?”

“Hundreds of thousands, probably,” you say. “Maybe millions.”

“Millions of people, and somehow we ended up with the second-best player in the game right at this table,” Seokjin says with a grin. “We should be honored.”

“It’s just a game,” you remind him, even though the sentiment is awfully sweet. “I think I much prefer the real world, don’t you?”

Seokjin smiles at you as the waiter comes around to offer him another cocktail.

“Another one, sir?”

Seokjin looks down at the cocktail, then at your unstained clothes, and he shakes his head, laughing to himself. “No, I’m alright, thank you.” The waiter nods, taking his empty glass and moving onto another coworker. He looks at you, and his eyes are swimming in stars. “I think that I do, too.”

Dinner ends with Hoseok and Jungkook gobbling down everybody’s leftovers, your boss paying the bill without even glancing at the check, and you laughing alongside Seokjin, who keeps your end of the table entertained with fantastic stories about his past job at a luxury department store and less-than-fantastic dad jokes that he prides himself for coming up with on the spot.

Taehyung had nudged you when the entrees had come around, motioning to the vent above your head, but you hadn’t even noticed the cold.

“Ugh,” Jimin says with a groan as the group of you head outside once everyone is finished, the chilly night air hitting your skin as you open the door. “I hate that we could only schedule this for a Wednesday, because it means we have to come into work again tomorrow.”

“When else are we supposed to schedule it for?” Yoongi asks with a frown. “Did you even look at the When2Meet? Nobody had any free time for the rest of the month.”

“Well, if everyone’s cleared their schedules just for this dinner, anyone want to keep the celebration going at my apartment? I just bought a box of wine from Trader Joe’s,” Jimin asks.

“On a Wednesday?” Yoongi says, nose scrunched up in disapproval.

“Yeah, when else would you drink boxed Trader Joe’s wine?” Jimin responds like it’s obvious.

Everyone begins to either disperse back to their cars or get Jimin’s address so they can get wine drunk on a Wednesday like you’re supposed to, leaving you and Seokjin out of the crowd.

“Are you heading over to Jimin’s?” He asks you as you begin to walk towards your cars, taking a step every five seconds as you watch Jimin tell everybody his exact address, loudly and slowly enough for any burglars and axe-wielding murderers within a three-mile radius to also hear him.

“No, I think I’ll just head home for the night,” you say, checking the time on your phone. It’s nearly ten, already. Where did the time go?

“Ah, then I guess I will, too,” Seokjin says. “Oh, here’s my car.”

“You parked close,” you comment.

“I thought that I’d be late because I arrived at 6:45, but I was the second one here,” Seokjin tells you, making you laugh.

“Sounds like our office, doesn’t it?”

“I guess. We’ll have to do this again sometime just to see how late everyone shows up,” Seokjin says.

“Promise I’ll be early next time,” you say.

“Next time, then?” Seokjin asks, already opening his car door and beginning to step inside. You stand on the sidewalk in front of him, watching as he pulls the door shut and waves to you through the windshield. A next time sounds awfully nice.

“Next time.”

♚ THERE ♚

The King and Queen never do find out about your truancy, though you have to admit, you were never really worried about that in the first place. Not when J was grinning as he told you he had sent the messenger guard off, laughing as he dragged you through the forest, smiling as he twirled a buttercup between his fingers. He had done it before and he’ll do it again, and look where that’s gotten him.

Maybe you could learn a thing or two from him.

Still, despite your high ranks, the two of you can’t avoid your responsibilities forever. Eventually, you will always have to report back to the castle, get a new assignment, and start the cycle all over again.

“At least they’re letting us go together,” J reasons as the two of you nod to the knights standing guard at the border of the kingdom, by the main forest that leads directly to a kingdom with whom your relationship isn’t all that strong. No wars have broken out between your two lands in years, but never has stability been one-hundred percent earned, which means that both kingdoms must be on high alert. You never know when a rebel group will attempt to invade the land.

“Like I’d want to spend any more time with you,” you joke, giving J a nudge in the side as you stroll along the forest edge. In the middle of the day with the sun high above your heads, neither of you are particularly worried about being attacked. It would be foolish for an enemy group to do so, especially at a time when the kingdom’s guards are the most awake.

“Am I really such awful company?” J asks, and he’s smiling but he asks in such a way, it’s almost as if he means it. The two of you have never been on the best of terms, but you’ve found yourself growing out of the competition-fueled rage you once always found yourself in whenever you were near him. No longer is regaining your first place your most important priority. Rather, it’s doing your job and doing it correctly, upholding the duties that the kingdom has entrusted you with, regardless of who’s by your side.

(Though, even if you’d never admit it, J makes quite good company, most of the time.)

“No,” you insist, a hand reaching out to rub comfortingly at his forearm. “You aren’t.”

“You think so?” J says with a laugh, almost bitter. “I must say, you’ve never been that fond of me.”

“You may have charmed your way into the rest of the kingdom’s hearts, but I needed some convincing,” you remind him, reminiscent of how he would tease you constantly, dangle his promotion right above your head like a trophy you’d never be able to reach.

“Did I do a good job, then?” J asks, hands in his pockets. It’s a quiet day, today. Even the birds have begun to murmur.

“You did quite alright,” you say, nudging him. “Though I must say, I absolutely hate how all of the vendor’s daughters fawn all over you and give you free items like fruit, and jewelry. I’m never given that treatment.”

“You just don’t have my naturally charming, handsome, soft looks,” J says, posing in front of you as the two of you walk. The obnoxiousness of it all makes you almost want to chuck the apple you’re about to eat right at his face.

“What do you mean? I can be charming,” you say with a pout. You pretend to flip your hair, just for emphasis.

“You and I are different types of charming,” J says casually. “You’re strong. You speak loudly and clearly and you don’t ever flounder. You always know exactly what you want, and know the best way to get it. You aren’t afraid of anything, and are always willing to take on any challenge that comes your way. It’s… it’s different.”

And even if he thinks you never flounder, never stumble over your words or stutter, for once, you can’t think of anything to say. You’re walking along the forest’s edge with a knight you had convinced yourself that you would never befriend, and he’s just told you all of these wonderful things about yourself you never would have known he’d thought otherwise.

J’s right. It is different. This is different. And you can hardly remember when it started to be like this. Only one day, it was just like this, and it never stopped.

“Do you really think all of those things about me?” You ask, staring down at your boots as you walk along the dirt path, kicking small pebbles as you go. They go flying off into the grass, never to be seen again. But sometimes, you come across one you had kicked a few steps back, and you try again, earnestly hoping to see how far it will go with you by its side.

“I mean, well…” J says, stumbling. “I don’t just think those things about you, you know? They’re facts, aren’t they? Those are things that, well, I suppose, everyone would think about you. Right?”

“You know what I think?” You ask, looking up at him. His dark hair shimmers in the light, like reflects of gold have been sprinkled amongst the ink black. “We are different types of charming. You’re charismatic and friendly, always willing to listen. You accept things graciously and are always grateful for what you receive. You pay people back whatever they’ve given you, even if it’s not the same item, even if it’s just the thought that counts. You always want to do better, and then you do. You work hard for each thing you get, and you never take it for granted.”

J grins down at you. “But you don’t actually think that, do you?”

“Nope,” you say, shaking your head. “Just facts.”

“Just facts,” he echoes.

When did talking to him become so easy? When did it all start coming to you naturally?

“Did you ever hate me?” He asks you, curious. He knows, he must, that that’s not the case anymore.

“No,” you admit, perhaps more to yourself than to him. “I think that I just hated that you were better than me. But… like you said, it’s different now. Now, I don’t care if you’re better than me. That sort of competition makes me a better soldier. You make me a better soldier.”

“Really?” J wonders, genuine. His eyes are wide in surprise, shocked at such a candid admission coming from you. To be honest, you’re surprised with yourself, as well. “I had no idea.”

“Keep it up, then. You know—”

A taut string let go.

The wind stopping in its tracks.

And an arrow headed right for your heart.

“Oh my God!” You shout quickly, unable to do much except alert the man next to you that the two of you are in imminent danger.

Before you can even blink, close your eyes and wait for the tip to pierce your heart, J is pushing you out of the way, sending you flying to the forest floor and he pulls his bow from his back, sending a steel arrow flying in the direction of the woods. You both wait there, only a second but it’s a second too long, until you hear a thud on the ground, a final breath, and then—

Silence.

The moment you’re both positive the assailant is dead, J turns to you, eyes wide. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m alright,” you assure him, telling him (and yourself) over and over as he pulls you up from the ground. Your heart is racing and you can’t quite seem to catch your breath, but you’re alive and so is he, and that’s all that matters. “Are you?”

“Yes,” he immediately says. “As long as you are.”

You look behind him to find an arrow stuck in a tree, but what alarms you more is the sight of blood on the tip. Immediately, you turn back to J, only to find the side of his arm covered in blood, bleeding right through his armor.

“Oh my God, J, you’re hurt,” you cry out, fumbling for something to stop the flow.

“I’m alright, Y/N, really,” he insists, placing a hand on top of your own, rubbing the back of it with his thumb for good measure. “It’s just a graze. I’ll be fine.”

“We have to take you back to the kingdom,” you push, already beginning to head back towards the gate.

“I’ve suffered worse injuries, Y/N, seriously,” he tells you, hoping to ease the pit of worry in your stomach. “I’m a top-ranked knight who prefers the battlefield over anything else. I’ve broken bones, gotten stabbed, and nearly died. This? It’s nothing. Really. Please, don’t worry.”

“We still have to get you back to the Kingdom and patch you up,” you insist firmly. “Even if you say you’re alright.”

“Whatever you say, Miss Y/N.” J goes with you obligingly, lets you walk him back to the kingdom gates.

You urge him into the local medical practitioner, sit him down on the bench and watch as the doctor bandages his wound, reminds him not to engage in any strenuous activity while it’s healing. He sits patiently, glaring at you slightly and rolling his eyes any time the doctor speaks, which is fairly frequently. It’s clear only one of you wants to be here right now, and it’s the one of you without a scratch on your body.

When the doctor leaves to tend to another patient, you get up from where you’re seated and sit down next to him on the bench, resting your head on his shoulder.

Working for the Kingdom makes you stronger. Sitting in the cafe makes you think. But being with him, standing by his side, it makes you wonder. It makes your heart race and your mind clear. It makes you feel safe.

“I think you saved my life,” you whisper softly, clutching onto him like a lifeline, like if you let go, one of you will drown.

But that’s not the case. Neither of you will let go. Not without the other. Never without the other.

“Really?” He asks. He already knows the answer.

“No, I know you did,” you tell him. Things are different now, but maybe they’ve always been like this. You just never noticed. “Because in a heartbeat, I would do the same for you.”

♚ HERE ♚

“I have not seen Seokjin all day,” Jimin comments loudly one day, making everyone immediately turn to Seokjins’ desk, which looks practically untouched. His computer is asleep, his chair is pushed in, and his desktop is empty. The only thing that suggests that the man is even here in the first place is the messenger bag resting against the desk drawers, though it doesn’t look like it’s even been opened today.

“Probably too busy avoiding you,” Yoongi deadpans, earning a “zing!” from Hoseok that makes you feel even more like you’re standing in the middle of a high school movie made by people who don’t know what high school is like.

“Is he even in today?”

“He is,” you pipe up. “His bag is here.”

“Of course you would know!” Taehyung teases, and he earns a highlighter to the face for his trouble.

“He’s probably just trying to get his work done in a place that doesn’t consist of screaming and constant insults being hurled across the room,” Jimin says with a sigh, turning back to his work. It’s a fair statement, especially when the environment in your office is most often distracting, loud, and not at all an ideal work environment. It’s an absolute wonder that any of you manage to get your work done while you’re here.

“Y/N, wanna go hunt him down?” Taehyung suggests, sending a wink your way as your eyes widen.

“No, absolutely not, no way. I will not be tricked by you again,” you say, very reminiscent of the last time you went to go look for Seokjin and ended up with a coffee-stained shirt and a group of coworkers who thinks the two of you hooked up that one time.

“If you say so…” Taehyung says, voice trailing off as he turns back to his work.

But for once in your life, Seokjin’s absence is more noticeable than ever. He’s become a fixture in your everyday office life, always stopping by your desk with a second cup of low-grade office coffee for you (with a lid, of course), sending you emails complaining about Jimin and Hoseok when they’re being loud, asking you for help on every one of his difficult font decisions for logo designs, drafting emails to clients with you. It’s a sort of closeness that you never really had before—sure, you worked together and often got paired up for projects, but it’s different now. Like you jumped ship on being just colleagues but instead of drowning, you began to float.

Five more minutes pass and you pretty much resign yourself to getting back to your work, knowing that Seokjin’s probably just grabbed his laptop and found a place where he can work in peace and quiet without Hoseok’s shrill voice interrupting his thoughts. You’ll have to ask him what place he’s discovered.

When there are four minutes left in the workweek and you are finally beginning to close out of the fifteen thousand tabs open on your Google Chrome window, the door busts open.

It doesn’t actually bust open, so much as Seokjin comes flying through it and it slowly goes to rest on the padded door frame like it’s been designed to. His tie is loose around his neck like he’s been tugging on it all afternoon, his laptop is clenched carefully between his arm and his torso, and he’s got a flurry of papers freeballing it in a stack in his hands.

“Oh my God, what tornado did you come from?” Jimin asks as Seokjin rushes over to his desk, cramming everything into his tiny messenger bag that definitely isn’t meant to fit a laptop and a stack of papers that thick.

“Sehun just dumped an entire project on me that’s due on Sunday at noon with no warning, and now I have to pull together fragments of a crumbling magazine label before their final review on Sunday afternoon,” he says, terribly out of breath. He’s scrambling to gather his belongings, crashing into anything within a two-foot radius of him.

“Dude, what the heck? I’m gonna tell Namjoon to kick Sehun’s ass,” Hoseok says with a frown, nose scrunched up. “Do you need help?”

“No, no, I’m alright, I can do it,” Seokjin insists, rubbing a hand through his hair as he leaves before the clock has even struck five.

“Are you sure? You look like you want to jump out of the window,” Hoseok asks again, just for clarification. He’s not wrong. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Seokjin become so stressed in such a short period of time before. “At least let one of us help you get settled back into your apartment.”

To your right, Taehyung whispers into Jungkook’s ear, who then does this sort of weird hand movement to Hoseok, who nods understandingly. It looks suspiciously like they just plotted someone’s murder.

“I can’t,” Jungkook says with an obnoxiously fake yawn, suddenly speaking much slower than usual, “I’m deadbeat tired.”

“Me neither,” Taehyung says, coughing in the way people do when they just want to get out of something. “I think I’m coming down with something.”

You whip your head around as everyone besides Yoongi comes up with an absolutely bullshit excuse not to accompany Seokjin to his apartment—Jimin says he has a date right after work and Hoseok says he needs to feed his puppy before he gets too hungry, leaving only you and a Yoongi that hasn’t been listening to the conversation whatsoever to vie for the spot.

“Yoongi?” You ask, somewhat desperate not to be the one to accompany Seokjin to his apartment. You turn to your head to glare at Taehyung, who shamelessly coughs again when he meets your eyes, smiling guiltily.

“Huh?” He asks, turning around.

“Fine, you know what? I can come with,” you say with a sigh, already grabbing your belongings as Taehyung and Jungkook high-five next to you.

“Oh, really? You’re a lifesaver, Y/N, you know that?” Seokjin says, and even when he’s stressed it’s like the weight has been lifted off of his shoulders once you volunteer, and you suppose that there are worse things that can happen than accompanying Seokjin to his apartment for ten minutes.

Seokjin gives you the address of his place so that you can drive to it yourself, the both of you pulling into the parking garage underneath his apartment complex at the same time, waving to each other from adjacent parking spaces.

“I really, really appreciate this, Y/N,” Seokjin says with a smile as he brings you into his apartment complex, nodding a friendly hello to the security officer in the lobby. “I know that it’s a Friday night and everything as well. You’d probably want to be doing something else.”

“Ah, yes, you know me, I frequent all of the clubs and bars in this city,” you say sarcastically as you walk into the elevator. Seokjin hits the button for the seventh floor and laughs. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. It was a dick move of Sehun to drop this on you when it’s due in, like, thirty-six hours.”

“Tell me about it,” Seokjin says, exasperated as he leans back against the steel walls of the elevator. “I thought I would just get to go home this Friday night, pull up Netflix, and have a one-man movie night, but now I have to spend the next thirty-six hours doing this.”

“Well, you know all of us are just looking out for you, wanted to make sure you didn’t injure yourself from stress before you got back to your apartment,” you say as the elevator door dings. Seokjin leads you down the hallway to his door, sticking his key in and jiggling it until the door pops open.

Admittedly, you have never been in Seokjin’s apartment, but you it was like you had already painted a picture of it in your head from his personality traits alone. You thought it would be fairly minimalistic, clean and neat, not too many flashy colors or kitschy items but things like photographs and magnets to make it feel like an office and more like a home. Pictured it as a sort of very simple, modern home, like the ones that celebrities live in because they can afford to keep their belongings clean all the time, because Seokjin looks exactly like a celebrity, gorgeous and put-together.

Instead, Seokjin’s apartment is almost a hodgepodge of everything he could think to find to decorate, a stack of photobooks on his coffee table, slouchy leather couches wrinkled from wear, various kitchen supplies splayed all over his countertops. It’s the kind of place you can imagine him being in, existing in. You can see him standing behind his kitchen island with all of the ingredients and supplies for this wonderful dish he’s making littered across the counters. You can see him curled up on the couch, leaning against the corner of it to find that perfect spot, watching television.

There’s a difference between owning a place, and living in it. Living in it makes it feels like a home, like it’s real, and not just for show.

“Wow, your place is—”

“It’s really messy right now, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t expecting guests,” Seokjin says, letting his messenger bag plop down on the ground as he scrambles to make his living space nicer for you.

“No, I was going to say it’s lovely,” you tell him. “It feels exactly like you.”

“Does it?” Seokjin asks genuinely, a soft smile lacing his features. “Well then, thank you.”

You wait around in his apartment awkwardly, not really sure if stepping past the front of his couch is socially acceptable since you’re just “visiting” and he hasn’t officially invited you inside yet. The main objective of accompanying him to his apartment has already been accomplished: you made sure he got home safely and that he can do his work in peace. Finished. But even still, you’re hanging around, wondering when he’s going to kick you out for being a weird, unknown fixture in his home.

“Um, would you like to stay for dinner? I made soup last night and I have way too much for me to eat on my own,” he offers, opening up his fridge and taking out an enormous pot. It clinks as it hits his countertop, the metal sound echoing throughout his apartment.

“No, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you say, taking this as your cue to remove yourself from the situation before you do anything else to make an absolute fool of yourself.

“I insist, please,” Seokjin says, stopping you in your tracks. “I may have a whole project to finish by Sunday, but we should at least spend this Friday night together, right?”

You look down at your shoes before looking up at him, meeting his eyes from where he stands behind his counter island.

“Then I will,” you say, removing your flats and padding over to where he stands, coming to a stop on the other side of the counter island. “But only if you let me help you with the project, too. It was asshole-y of Sehun to dump it all on you. At least let me handle some of the graphic aspects.”

“Y/N,” Seokjin says, reaching his hand out over the counter, “you have a deal.”

This deal mainly consists of you eating some of Seokjin’s homemade soup on his couches, your laptops on his coffee table and that ridiculously thick stack of papers spread out amongst you. Seokjin already has a fair bit of information about the project at hand, but he still has absolutely zero progress since he received the assignment four minutes before the end of the workweek.

“So, basically, what we have to do is re-organize the magazine’s overall design and aesthetic before their final review on Sunday, because if they don’t appeal to the publisher, they’re getting tanked,” Seokjin says, paging through the papers in search of a sketch.

“So we’re their last hope,” you summarize.

Seokjin nods. “We’re their last hope.”

“Great,” you say, not at all enthused. “No pressure at all.”

“I know. I’m so relaxed right now,” Seokjin says, clearly not relaxed.

“You know what’s making me relaxed? This soup,” you say, finishing the last of what’s in your bowl. “It’s delicious. I didn’t know you cooked.”

“It’s just a hobby of mine,” Seokjin says with a shrug. “I picked it up when I moved to college and didn’t know how to make anything except toast.”

“You’re a very fast learner, then,” you say. “I’d pay you to make all of my meals, honestly.”

“Would you like more? I have a ton, so we can eat it all if you’d like,” he asks, already standing up and reaching his hand out for your bowl.

You hand it over, shaking your head as he makes his way back to his little kitchen, ladling more soup into both of your bowls. “You’re too nice, Seokjin. Seriously. How am I supposed to pay back this kindness?”

Seokjin lets out a warm chuckle as he warms up your next serving in the microwave. “Believe me, Y/N, volunteering to take on this project with me with a due date in less than thirty-six hours is more than enough. You really don’t have to do this, you know.”

“No,” you tell him. “I want to. You deserve someone who’s willing to help you with big things like this. You shouldn’t have to deal with it all on your own.”

Seokjin grins as he returns, handing you your bowl of soup as you get back to work. “I don’t deserve you, Y/N.”

What was supposed to be a couple of hours spent grinding out a project over a shared pot of soup turns into a night’s worth of work, scribbles on paper and the redoing of the same logo fifteen different times on your computer’s much slower, less-updated version of Photoshop. The application crashes on three different occasions, causing you to nearly slam it into the wall, but you just try to look on the bright side. Find the silver lining. Of which there are none.

Seokjin doesn’t seem to be faring any better than you are. You’ve never seen the man under such pressure before, not in the office and certainly not while you’re out of the office. He’s tugged on a crewneck sweater over his dress shirt and paces around his apartment in bright pink slippers, brainstorming aloud as you bounce ideas off of each other in a panic.

“What if we rebranded them?” Seokjin suggests wildly. When you turn to look at the digital clock underneath his television, it says 11:17PM. You’re surprised he hasn’t collapsed underneath the pile of work he’s got on his plate.

“What do you mean? Do we even have the authorization to rebrand them?” You ask, pulling up a new tab on magazine marketing techniques.

“The project description says requests for anything that will keep them afloat,” Seokjin says. He immediately opens an old photobook, buried underneath your laptops, sketches, and papers, flipping through before he sits down right next to you on his slouchy leather couch. “What if we gave them more of a minimalist kind of style? They’re trying to jump off of this super quirky, very basic Urban Outfitters kind of aesthetic, but I think it makes the magazine too young, you know?” Seokjin suggests. “We could do something more grown-up, attract their market audience.”

“Are we allowed to do that?” You ask, thoroughly interested. Maybe Seokjin’s onto something.

“Who says we can’t?” Seokjin responds, and it’s good enough for you to hop on board.

Sitting in his apartment like this, brainstorming different ideas and collaborating on logo designs, magazine layout, and website design together, you are more productive than you’ve been in a very, very long time. Even as the night stretches on into the early hours of the morning, as you watch the clock turn from 1:00AM to 2:00AM to 3:00AM, the two of you are wide awake, the only things illuminating his apartment being a floor lamp by his television and the blue light of your laptop screens.

“It’s…” Seokjin yawns when it’s nearly four in the morning, pen slipping from his fingers, “so late.”

“I know,” you say back, feeling your eyelids beginning to sink. “I’m surprised we’ve even stayed up this long.”

“Haven’t been up this late since college,” Seokjin says, smiling hazily at past memories. “Always had code to finish for my class the next morning.”

“At least we get to sleep in now,” you joke. Even if you still have to finish putting together a brand new image for this magazine that’s about to go under, tomorrow is still a Saturday.

“Thank God,” Seokjin says, resting his head on the back of the couch cushion, letting his eyes flutter shut. “I feel like we did a lot tonight.”

“We were very productive,” you agree.

He yawns. “We work well together, don’t you think?”

“Hmm?” You ask, leaning over to move your computer from your lap to the coffee table, exchanging it for a sketchpad to keep brainstorming.

“I think,” Seokjin begins, and it must be just the sleepy haze his brain has entered rather than anything else that could spur him to express this, that makes him say, “that you and I make a perfect pair.”

You sit up straight at this, looking over at Seokjin as the pencil in between your fingers falls onto the sketchpad before rolling onto the floor. It looks like he’s fallen asleep, exhaustion finally overcoming him as all of the work he’s done catches up to him. In the dead of night, the only sound in the room is his soft breathing, chest rising and falling slowly as his mind begins to wander. You watch him, eyelids heavy, and think that he couldn’t have possibly thought that. No way would he say such a thing to you if he was perfectly cognizant, wide awake. After all, you’re the one with a crush on him, not the other way around.

You lean back, pondering why a man like Seokjin would ever invite you into his home, offer you soup, and shower you with subtle compliments that couldn’t just be friends being friends, and before you know it, your eyes fall shut.

It is nearly one in the afternoon by the time you wake up, the sunlight streaming in from the side of his apartment. It forces you to finally open your eyes, groaning as your blurry vision begins to clear.

That is when you register these four things in this order:

This is Seokjin’s apartment.

This is Seokjin’s apartment, in which you worked on a project with him last night.

This is Seokjin’s apartment, and you fell asleep on his couch.

This is Seokjin’s apartment, and he thinks that you’d make the perfect pair.

You hear a clink from across the room, and turn to find Seokjin, still wearing the same thing he was wearing last night, standing in his kitchen, pouring two glasses of orange juice.

“Morning,” Seokjin says. He pauses, then corrects himself. “Afternoon, actually.” He walks over to you, handing you a glass of orange juice as you rub your eyes, waking yourself up.

“How long have you been up?” You ask him, too tired to thank him out loud for the glass of orange juice.

“About an hour,” he says, checking the time. “I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked so peaceful.”

“I feel awful, I didn’t mean to intrude on your apartment for, like, an entire night,” you say, rubbing your forehead as you try to smooth out your hair, make yourself look less like you fell asleep at four in the morning in your gorgeous crush’s apartment.

“No, it’s alright, really,” Seokjin insists. “It was nice having company, for once. And I think we got a lot done.”

“I still feel bad, I didn’t mean to stay so long,” you say, looking around for your belongings as you try to gather your bearings.

“It’s fine,” Seokjin reassures you, sitting down on the couch next to you as he begins to clean up the absolute mess of the coffee table. “But your phone has been ringing nonstop, so someone must have missed you.”

You fumble around for your phone before finding it having slid in between the couch cushions, pulling it up to see three missed calls from Taehyung and two missed calls from Jungkook, as well as a slew of texts from the both of them.

“Oh, it’s just Taehyung and Jungkook,” you say with a shrug, deciding that now is not the time to bring them into the conversation. A quick scan of the texts gives you a rough summary of what you would have heard if you had answered their calls instead.

Taehyung (9:35AM): Y/N Taehyung (9:35AM): HELLO Taehyung (9:35AM): ARE YOU ALIVE??? Taehyung (9:36AM): YOU NEVER SLEEP THIS LATE ARE YOU OKAY??? Taehyung (10:03AM): I WENT BY YOUR APARTMENT AND YOU DIDN’T ANSWER IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT Taehyung (10:04AM): TEXT ME 1 IF EVERYTHING IS OKAY AND 2 IF EVERYTHING IS NOT OKAY Taehyung (10:05AM): LAST TIME I SAW YOU YOU WERE GOING HOME WITH SEOKJIN DID HE MURDER YOU??????? Taehyung (10:18AM): oh Taehyung (10:18AM): oh wait Taehyung (10:19AM): OHHHHHHHHH Taehyung (10:20AM): ;)

Jungkook (12:18PM): Kingdom just started a new event! Get online with me and let’s crush this thing pleaseeeee

“Just want me to play Kingdom with them,” you say, ignoring Taehyung’s text messages and pretending like they don’t exist.

“You really like that game, don’t you?” Seokjin asks.

“Oh, they like it more than I do, really, I just try and keep the obsession to a minimum,” you say casually.

“But they always talk about how good you are,” Seokjin adds. “You’re ranked second, aren’t you? That’s a big accomplishment.”

“Yeah, but it’s not that exciting. I mean, it’s just a game,” you shrug it off.

“But you like it, which means that’s important,” Seokjin says. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of the things you like. They matter to you.”

“You think so?” You ask, smiling at him.

“I know so. Tell me about Kingdom,” he urges, nudging your side. “Please? I’d love to know.”

And for once, you don’t just shrug it off and brand it as a game you play occasionally. You let yourself love that game, for all it’s done for you and your friends (even if you aren’t the best anymore) and your happiness, and you tell Seokjin about it. About how you started playing it when you were bored one day during work and saw a forum on it. How you got the rest of the office hooked on it as well, even if they were much more obnoxious about it than you are. How you go home after a long day of work and log on, letting yourself relax as you weave your way through the rankings and quests, finding solace in the familiarity of it all. You tell him why you love it, and why you probably won’t stop playing it for a long time, no matter what becomes of your ranking.

“It was nice being ranked first, but I actually don’t mind whoever it is that’s taken over,” you tell Seokjin honestly. “Jungkook wants to hunt them down, but I think that, whoever they are, they deserve that spot. You know, I used to hate them because the top-ranked player gets all of the best rewards, but our characters have recently started to spend so much time together that I feel like they’d probably have fallen in love by now.” You chuckle to yourself. If life were a movie, everything would always work out perfectly.

“You do?” Seokjin asks, eyes wide.

“Yeah, of course,” you say. “They spend so much time together. Who wouldn’t, right?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Seokjin says, smiling. “I also have something to tell you.”

You shake your head. “Don’t tell me you’re obsessed with anime, please. That is where I draw the line.”

“Don’t shame us,” Seokjin says, a hand on his heart like he’s been personally offended. Your eyes widen. “I’m kidding,” he says, laughing as you exhale, relieved. “I actually play Kingdom, too. I just wanted to ask you about it.”

“Seriously? All this time and you just pretended like you had no idea what it was?” you say in disbelief. He’s been hiding this from you for how long? God, the rest of your office is going to have a field day with this information.

“I just wanted you to tell me about it,” Seokjin admits sheepishly.

You shake your head. “You could have talked to me about other stuff, you know.”

“I know, but you never talked about Kingdom and I could always see how much you loved it. It was nice, listening to you tell me about it,” he says.

“I’ve been betrayed,” you say dramatically, opening up your laptop to pull up the game. “What’s your ID? We can add each other.”

This is where Seokjin goes silent. “Actually, I think you might already know who I am. I’m above you in the rankings.”

Your mouth drops open.

“You’re JK0901? Are you kidding me?” You ask, absolutely floored. All this time and you had no idea that Kim Seokjin was a Kingdom expert. “What does JK stand for? I was convinced it was Jungkook and he was just lying to my face, but in reality, it was you who was lying to me!”

Seokjin lets out a chuckle. “Jin Kim. I’m surprised you guys didn’t figure it out earlier.”

“I can’t believe this,” you say, practically speechless. “How long have you been playing?”

“Not that long,” Seokjin shrugs. “I picked it up because I wanted to impress a girl I liked.”

“Really? All this effort for a girl you like?” You ask, still in disbelief. You suck up the way your heart is sinking at the thought of him liking another person, but then you remember that it wasn’t like you had ever made a move on him anyway. Smiling, you ask, “Will you at least humor me and tell me who it is?”

Then, Seokjin looks you dead in the eye, and says, “You.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond. Instead, he wraps a hand around your torso and pulls you into him, pressing his lips firmly on yours as you gasp into his mouth, body tensing up before you melt into his touch.

It’s a quick kiss, nothing too crazy, but it overwhelms you nonetheless, leaves you gasping for air like you’ve been underwater this whole time and have finally surfaced. When you part, you look up into his eyes only to find that they’ve turned into crescents. He’s grinning down at you like he’s finally gotten it right.

“You did all of that for me?” You ask. “How did you even know?”

Seokjin looks particularly guilty. “You’re not necessarily… that discreet, Y/N.”

You close your eyes, the heat already flaring in your cheeks. “Oh God, you knew?”

“It was fairly easy to figure out,” Seokjin admits. “But the good news is: I felt the same way. So, no harm done.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” you say, curling into his chest so you don’t have to look him in the eye.

“You’re incredible, Y/N, you know that?” He asks, pulling you away from him just so he can get a better look at you. He’s standing in front of you, looking at you like this is what he’s been waiting for. Like all this time, he’s been waiting for you. “I’d do it all over again if it meant I could end up with you.”

“You would?” You ask, pulling him in for another kiss. There’s plenty more where those came from, but you’re already feeling greedy. Why wouldn’t you? If life was a movie, then wouldn’t this be the happy ending?

“In a heartbeat.”

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

↳ check out the post-script drabble here!

#seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #jin fluff #jin angst #bts fluff #bts angst #seokjin scenario #jin scenario #bts scenario #jin fic #bts fic #bts au #seokjin imagine #jin imagine #bts imagine #bts enemies to lovers #bts friends to lovers #w: for you anything

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flamencodiva · 4 years ago

Text

Who Do You Think You Are? 3- Impala

Description: Y/N Y/L/N and Dean Winchester seem to bump into each other quite frequently. What happens when these two hunters rub each other the wrong way?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Bingo Square: Impala

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Child Neglect, Mentions of Drug Abuse.

A/N: For SPN Dean Bingo Round One

Divider by @talesmaniac89

Y/N pulled into the large gate leading up to the mansion. Rolling down her window she pressed the button.

“Hello?” her uncle’s voice ran through the intercom.

“Uncle Tommy?” she smiled a bit. “Sorry for just dropping on you like this… it’s Y/N.”

"Y/N/N! I was about to send out a search party for you. Drive-in kid!"

Y/N leaned back in her seat as she watched the gate open. Once it was wide enough, she drove forward and up the driveway towards the front door. She had turned off her car when a man, about 6’2 and arms filled with tattoos. Tommy Lee smiled at Y/N as he rushed to her and picked her up in his arms.

“Hey kid!” he smiled. “You scared me with that call… are you okay?” he gave her a once over.

“Yeah, I’m fine… just the job got a bit… scary so I was just covering my bases,” she grabbed her bag from the trunk making sure to keep her secret compartment closed. “How have you been Uncle T?”

"Good, good," Tommy rubbed the back of his neck. "You know… you should call…"

“He doesn’t need to know,” she made her way inside and placed her bag on the floor by the couch. “I can crash on your couch--”

“You know where your room is here!” Tommy pulled her in for a hug. “Go settle in and I can make us my famous Gyros!”

“You know it!” she smiled as she made her way up the stairs and to her room. She settled in and lay on the bed her uncle had for her. A small nap never hurt anyone. But the one thought that she couldn’t get out of her head, was her moment with Dean Winchester.

Back downstairs, Tommy pulled out his phone and dialed the familiar number.

“Nikki? It’s Tommy,” Tommy glanced up the stairs in the direction of Y/N’s room. He knew she would be mad, but he had to do this. “She’s here at my house.”

"She went to you?" Nikki sighed. "Figured she would. Does she look okay?"

“Just… I think she might be doing some hard stuff Nik… she might be going down THAT road,” Tommy closed his eyes not sure what his niece was doing.

"Shit, I'll be right there… Just," Nikki cleared his throat. "Just make sure she doesn't know I'm coming."

Tommy hung up with Nikki and moved around his kitchen to prepare the Gyros for Y/N. it was hard for him to call Nikki like that knowing the relationship between his niece and his best friend. But it had to be done, if she was going down a dark path, he had to be there to help her out. He was cooking the meat in the frying pan when he heard Y/N coming down.

“It smells awesome!” she smiled as she grabbed a beer from his fridge. “So, what’s life like for you Uncle T?”

“Got into a fight with Brandon the other day,” Tommy told her, rubbing at his lip. “Knocked me the fuck out and then went running his mouth saying I started it. So, same old same.”

“Brandon is a douche and he has no idea what a great dad you are,” she smiled at him, “wish I could say the same for mine.” she chugged half the bottle before smiling at him. “Need any help?”

“You’re always more than welcome to help. I taught you everything you know anyway,” He winked and moved over to let her cut the veggies.

Y/N moved over next to her uncle as he helped her cook. It was things like this that made her wish she was his daughter. She knew that all the stories that demonized him were exaggerated. He wasn’t as bad as the media made him out to be. In fact, he was one of her favorite uncles, acting more like a father than her own sperm donor of a father was. Even with his faults, he always found a way to make her feel loved.

“I’m only going to stay for a few days,” she finished her beer and grabbed another one. “I have a small job around here I need to take care of. After that, I’m on the road again. Gotta keep moving you know.”

“You remind me of your mom,” Tommy told her. “She was always on the road, almost as much as we were…”

“Yeah, the Pontiac out there belonged to her,” she cleared her throat. “I restored it and I've been maintaining her.”

Y/N was helping her uncle make baklava when the doorbell rang. She was too focused on making sure the pastry was ready for the oven, to realize her father had come in.

“Oh, hey Y/N,” Nikki said, offering her a smile. Tommy gulped a little, feeling the tension already start to flow through the room.

He really screwed up this time.

Y/N froze as the familiar voice rang in her ears. She grabbed her beer and chugged it until it was empty.

"Nikki," she muttered, staying close to the counter. "Knew he would call you eventually. You saw me. I'm fine. You can go."

“I just…” Nikki sighed. He had been practicing his speech in the car on the way over and now it was falling flat.

Fuck.

"I’m not staying long anyway,” she cleared her throat as she grabbed a bottle of Jack, she knew her uncle kept just for her. “I’m spending the night before heading to my apartment.”

“Yeah,” Nikki cleared his throat, “you still won’t tell me where that is?”

“It’s none of your business,” she breathed. “Just go back to your perfect kids… you know the ones you actually wanted.”

“Y/N, I wanted you too,” Nikki told her. “I never wanted for you and your mom to not be a part of my life. I still want you in my life and I…” She glared at him, cutting him off.

“Save it,” she grabbed a glass and filled it three fingers full of the amber liquid. “Look I know you’re going to stay for dinner anyways because Uncle Tommy is worried about something. So let’s get this over with so I can sleep in peace and head home.” she prepared her gyro and gave a soft glare to her Uncle Tommy.

As they sat at the table, Tommy kept giving Nikki pointed looks and pointing at his arm while hinting at Y/N. Both men leaned on their chairs to try and get a look at Y/N’s arms.

“Are you looking for something boys?” she took a sip of her whiskey before folding her hand and placing her elbows on the table.

“Um… look Y/N/N,” Tommy began as he took a sip of water. “We’re worried about you. Your dad and--”

“Sperm donor,” Y/N interjected.

“Y/N,” Nikki sighed. “We just want to know that you aren’t… falling into a dark path here.”

“Oh… you mean am I shooting up?” she pushed her chair back and shrugged off her flannel. She showed them her arms, “yeah, I’m nothing like you Nikki. I may drink a lot… but I would never pump that kind of poison in my body. I’d rather die alone than be like you and ruin someone's life with the promise of love and forever.” she walked up to Nikki and placed her arms by his, “let’s compare, shall we?”

Nikki pushed away, “I get it.” he looked down and at Tommy, “I shouldn’t have come. Thanks for calling me I’ll go.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed, “run away like you always do. Just like when mom died… and I was just dumped on you and your flavor of the month.” she looked to her uncle, “I know you meant well, but honestly next time… butt out.”

Tommy watched as Y/N rushed up the stairs and sighed. He hoped that she would talk about her last phone call, if he had to be honest, she was acting almost like how her mother would act. He knew Y/N’s mom worked, well he wasn’t sure what she did, but she always seemed secretive just like Y/N.

In her room, Y/N picked up the phone and dialed the one number she never thought she would ever be dialing.

“Dean?” she took in a deep breath, “It’s Y/N… think you can meet me at the address I’m going to text you?”

The next morning, Y/N woke up and grabbed her bag, ready to head to her apartment on the strip. She didn’t tell anyone, but she found a way to rent the old apartment that her father and uncles had during their early band days. Driving the Pontiac down the familiar road she pulled up to the old building and up the familiar staircase. She expected to be alone for a few hours before Dean would arrive, but that was a wash. The green-eyed hunter was sitting by her front door waiting for her.

“You know, when you said to meet you here,” He groaned as he got up, “I wasn't expecting to have to wait for you.”

“Sorry,” Y/N sighed as she grabbed her keys and opened the door. “I was at my uncle’s house. I didn’t expect to get here so late.”

“It’s fine,” Dean smiled. “Didn’t peg you for someone who would live on the stip.”

“I grew up here,” she led him inside and ran her hands over the familiar markings. “I was lucky that no one was living here when I wanted it.”

“Yeah, I heard that Motley Crue lived in something like this,” Dean placed his bag on the couch and, “So Sam is off back in Kansas, it’s just you and me Y/L/N.”

“Yeah?” Y/N chuckled and smiled, “well… we can do some things. We can check out the whiskey, get drunk and just hang out.”

"That sounds like a fun way to start," dean offered her a smile. "Maybe we could do something more?"

“Ok,” She turned around and placed her hands on her hips, “slow your roll. I told you before, I don’t do commitment. So, whatever you are trying to do… it’s not going to work. If we are going to have fun… it’s fun… got it?”

“Yeah, I got it, I don’t do it either. I’m just trying to get to know you,” Dean observed her as she walked to her room in the back. She seemed lost in a memory. “You and your mom came back here to live?” he looked around the small two-bedroom apartment.

“Yeah,” she gave him a sad smile, “before my dad became a major douche we lived here and we were happy… then… the life caught up with my mom and things went downhill.”

“So, what did you have in mind?” Dean changed the subject as he noticed the sad look on her face.

It didn’t take long before Dean and Y/N were walking along the strip. She pointed out various places she would remember from her childhood. One being her dad working in a particular liquor store. Walking in, Y/N made a beeline for the whiskey Isle and grabbed a few bottles. She looked over at Dean and smiled.

“Pick your poison because we are going to relax and enjoy the strip,” she walked close to him and leaned in, her lips close to his ear. “Plus, it’s the best way to sniff out monsters. They love to hang out around here.” she winked and made her way to the cashier.

“Ok so we have our booze,” Dean clapped his hands together as they made their way back to her apartment, “What time do the festivities begin?”

“Sundown,” she took in the sounds of the strip and froze when she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

“Y/N? Hey!” Gunner Sixx called out. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in town?”

“Shit,” she quickened her pace, “come on let's put this back in my apartment and I can show you where the greasiest burger in town is.”

“Hey, you have someone calling you,” Dean looked back as a tall man, relatively skinny with long dyed blond hair tried to catch up to them.

“It’s probably just someone who thinks I look like someone else,” Y/N waved him off. “This is Hollywood man.”

“Y/N wait!” Gunner called after her.

“Fuck,” she cursed before handing Dean her keys and the bag of liquor. “Head to my apartment I’ll be right there.”

Dean simply nodded as he watched Y/N head to the man who was calling her before heading to her apartment.

“What do you want Gunner? Do you know how to take a hint? I didn’t tell anyone I was in town because I don’t want to see you.” she glared at him.

“Who’s that?” Gunner asked, watching Dean head into the building.

“None of your damn business!” she growled, “as far as I’m concerned, we are not family, we are nothing. You can tell the rest that they can celebrate, I won’t be around much longer anyway. They can get their wish.” she turned on her heels and groaned when she came face to face with her sister Storm Sixx. “god damn it!”

“Sis! You’re in town!” Storm leaned in to hug Y/N, only for Y/N to sidestep and move out of the way.

“Seriously? What drugs are you guys on?” she glared at them. “Since when am I, sis? What are you up to?”

“What do you mean?” Gunner asked.

“Can’t we try and be nice to our sister?” Storm found the ground interesting.

“Yeah right,” she scoffed, “what do you want? I know you want something. It’s all I’m good for apparently.”

“We really just wanted to hang out with you,” Gunner told her. “And we heard dad saw you and he seemed really upset.”

“If he relapses, it’s not on me,” she sneered. “I tried cleaning up his mess the first time. It took him getting you guys to be happy… so I'm taking myself out of the equation,” she poked Gunner in the chest, “if you knew what I’ve really done for this family you would have been nicer to me from the jump. But since my mom died you all have been nothing but an asshole.” with that, she turned and walked away from them, hoping that they wouldn't recognize where she was staying.

Walking into the apartment she gave Dean a fake smile before sitting on the couch and chugging some of the whiskey straight from the bottle.

“Everything okay?” he raised an eyebrow at her as she took a deep breath.

“Yeah, totally fine…” she looked at the time and stood up. “You brought the Impala?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, “why?”

“I have a place I want to go to, and the Impala is the best wheel to get us there.” she grabbed a few essential things and turned to him. “You are going to love it.”

Dean drove the Impala following Y/N’s directions. He pulled up to a dirt road and what looked like a radio tower. He was puzzled when Y/N climbed out and guided him closer to the edge.

“Ok, come on,” she sat on Baby’s hood and took in a deep breath.

“Um… where are we?” he looked around.

“Just look down,” she pointed to the ledge.

Dean couldn’t believe his eyes. He was staring at the Hollywood sign from above. He looked over at Y/N’s face, she seemed happy.

“Why did we come here?” he climbed on the hood next to her as she offered him the bottle of whiskey.

“Before my dad turned into a major douche… he and my mom were happy,” she placed her arm under her head and closed her eyes. “We used to hike up here and have fun playing tag. It was a lot simpler… but then… mom… well, she started hunting hardcore.”

“And what about your dad?” Dean asked, a little unsure of the answer he was going to get.

“Turned to drugs when he couldn’t handle taking care of me,” she sat up and grabbed the now half-empty bottle they shared. Bringing the opening to her lips she took in a big sip before handing it to him. “There was a demon… one night. He was too high to notice that it was a real monster. Mom burst in and after that… they ended things. I got to see him every now and then until she died when I was thirteen. By then he had a wife and three kids, and I was just someone who cramped his style.”

“I��m so sorry,” Dean looked over at her.

“It’s fine,” shaking her head she scooched over to him. “I learned to just keep my head down and not ask for anything. I mean considering the guy never gave me a birthday or Christmas present, I got used to just not being wanted.”

“Well, I can tell you, you’re always wanted by someone, even if you don’t want them,” He wrapped an arm around her, holding her close to his side.

“Are you trying to change my mind on the whole commitment thing?” she chuckled, “because I am not going for it. You can thank my dad for that. I am not a commitment person, I’ve tried it and it never works out.” she leaned back against the windshield of the Impala as her phone began to ring with the familiar tune of Shout at the Devil.

Looking at the screen the name Nikki flashed on it. Rolling her eyes, she answered it. “What do you want Nick? I’m in the middle of something.”

“Y/N, I want to take you out for your birthday. I know it’s coming up.” Nikki Sixx swallowed the lump in his throat as he held the phone to his ear.

“What do you care about what I’m going to do for my birthday? I never celebrate it anyways.” She shook her head and scoffed.

“I just thought they…" Nikki let out an audible sigh. "You are my daughter Y/N. My first kid. I know I messed up and I've been trying to fix things… please, come to the house and let's celebrate."

“I’m going to be busy. I have some states to visit and some work to get done. I won’t have the time. Besides, I’m sure you have better things to do than celebrate the bastard daughter's birthday.” with that she pulled the phone away as he continued to talk.

“Y/N that’s not true,” his voice echoed from the phone.

“Liar,” she breathed before hanging up.

Dean looked over at her as she hung up her phone. He could see her eyes filling with tears as she looked down at the phone. It was as if she wanted to say yes to whoever this ‘Nick’ guy was, but she was scared of getting hurt; scared to really let go. He knew the feeling. He was like that himself.

“So, any other places we can go where we can show baby off?” Dean sat up and placed a hand on her shoulder. "And if you want, we can make out and I can distract you as a good friend would."

“Actually, making out on the hood of your Impala does sound nice. Maybe even inside in the backseat,” she chuckled. “I mean she is hella sexy.”

“You look sexy being on her,” Dean cupped her cheek before giving her a searing kiss.

Pulling away, Y/N licked her lips before staring into his green eyes. “This doesn’t make us exclusive.”

“I know,” Dean smiled, “but I’m glad to see I was able to distract you,” he laughed and rolled off the hood. “Come on, let’s drive this baby back to the strip.”

The drive back to the strip was filled with the sounds of Zeppelin blasting from the speakers. Dean glanced at her occasionally. He would smile to himself and chuckle at how stubborn he was when he first met her. But in the end, she only wanted to be his friend. Pulling up to her apartment building by the strip Dean turned to face Y/N.

“So… what are we going to do next?” Dean shut off the engine.

“We can head to the Whiskey,” she sighed. “I need to cut loose and drink as much as I can.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dean shut off the engine and climbed out.

It didn’t take long for them to get into the Whiskey a-go-go. Y/N scoped out the scene and found herself smiling at one of the guys flirting with her. Dean swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched Y/N grinding on a guy. It didn’t take long for a woman to come and bat their eyelashes at him. He turned on his charm, remembering that Y/N only wanted to be friends with benefits. Dean moaned as the woman he was with ground her ass on his crotch as they swayed to the music. He couldn’t help but glance at Y/N who was swaying with one of the guys she was flirting with. Dean pushed his jealousy down as the woman kissed him.

“You and I can have some fun,” she whispered in his ear before nipping at it.

Glancing back at Y/N, Dean noticed she was in a heated make-out session of her own. “Yeah, baby,” he found himself muttering, “Let’s have our own fun.”

Y/N watched as Dean went off with a woman who caught his eyes. She would never admit that it stung that he went off to have a quick roll. But then again, she was doing the same thing. At least now she could keep him at arm's length. But it was nice to have him all to herself. She will always remember being comfortable with him on the hood of his Impala.

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capaldifiction · 5 years ago

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Massive Success - Lewis Capaldi x Reader

Paring: Lewis Capaldi x Reader

Word Count: 2,863

Description: Lewis and Y/N have been friends since they were teens, and she’s been hiding how she’s felt nearly as long. Several years, two record labels, and a worldwide tour later she’s struggling getting used to the new lifestyle they both live, and keeping her feelings for him under control. And god does she hate those live interviews. Lewis x Celebrity Reader

Warnings: Some swearing and mild slight spiciness at the end.

Italics are dreams or inner thoughts.

Y/N stares back into her reflection in the mirror in her dressing room before closing her eyes and slowly counting down in her mind. She still wasn’t used to this whole live television interview thing. Concerts sure, she’d been performing since she was a teenager, with a guitar or mic stand in her hands, the rest faded away. It might have also helped that as the crowds got bigger, her ability to see individual faces had grown harder.

But these live interviews with the endless row of seemingly too bright set lights, the live audience she could see each and every expression of, sitting in a chair with several cameras trained on her to remind her that if she slipped up the entire world would know in seconds were not comforting thoughts.

Performing a quick song with a wave to the camera and audience was the easy part, when she had her guitar stripped from her and ended up in the seat was when it always got dicey. She’d only done a few since her career had taken off, but she’d somehow managed to avoid the major disaster her mind was telling her would happen.

“Nervous?” a voice asks from directly behind her, causing her to almost fall back into the man behind her as her eyes fly open. Lewis presses his hands to her back to hold her up, a mischievous smile on his face as she looked at him through the mirror.

“Couldn’t help yourself could you?” she scowls and bites her lip. “Of course I am. You know I’m not good at this shit.”

A sympathetic smile replaces the previous one as he pats her back, “It’s fine, I get nervous too. But you’ve got this. Plus this time we’ve got each other right?”

She slowly exhales and relaxes her shoulders as she turns to look at him with her own smile, “That’s true, when I inevitably freeze or say something stupid, you can pull them right back in with that charm hm?”

“Exactly,” he grins, “That’s what friends are for.”

“That they are,” she agrees with a laugh and looks back to the mirror to check her hair, trying to ignore the butterflies still in her stomach from his touch.

“I’ll be back in five to grab ya,” he calls out as he walks away.

She’d met Lewis when they were around 16, both gigging where they could and chasing their musical dreams. They’d become fast friends, and in the years that followed she found herself developing more than just a little crush on him. Pushing those feelings aside, she was happy to be by his side as a friend and confidant through career and relationship troubles.

When his career started to take off, she’d been ecstatic for him. She’d been going to nearly every gig of his for years and knew his talent, but to see everyone else starting to see it had been amazing. It had gotten hard when he really started traveling, being gone months on end. She kept to her own gigging and a part time job, but not having him around was harder to get used to than she would admit.

She’d almost let those other feelings go. Just enjoying the time she did have with him between his traveling, and their occasional FaceTime calls and daily texts. She’d grown comfortable with it at least.

Then began the wild two years when she’d been picked up by an agent, released her first few songs and EP, signed with a record label, and Lewis had asked her to be the opening act for his big headlining tour.

Going back to spending nearly every day together, doing what they love while also traveling the world had been more than amazing. Unfortunately with more time together, came the resurgence of those feelings, hitting her suddenly like a tidal wave.

Every morning, afternoon, and evening were spent together, even in their down time they tended to hang out in the same room until it was time for bed. During that time she wrote and released mid-tour what had become her hit song.

All she’d been hoping for was to unleash some of the pent up feelings and energy, but somehow that had turned into a song she heard on the radio, various radio and tv interviews, a wave of popularity, and many questions from Lewis.

It had started out with just teasing questions, but the more he pushed her on who the song was about, or to at least talk it out with him, the more on edge she got. She felt guilty hiding the truth, and felt even more guilty that her best friend felt she couldn’t trust him enough to tell him. But she couldn’t.

After a few hour tour bus ride of him gently prodding her for information, she’d snapped at him that it was none of his business, and since then they’d abandoned the topic. The days following were tense, but they’d worked their way back to normal after some time. In that time is when they’d written their newest song together that they finally agreed was the one they’d record together.

Fast forward to eight months later, there she stood in her dressing room at The Late Late Show waiting for her performance and interview with Lewis to promote the song.

“You ready?” Lewis calls, ducking his head back into her dressing room.

“It’s been five minutes already?” she asks with a tense chuckle.

“Come on, we’ll be fine Y/N,” he encourages, giving her a side hug as she reaches the door. “Business as usual.”

“God I hate those lights.” Y/N forces a smile as she half listens to the question James Corden has asked Lewis. Their performance had gone great, and nothing particularly bad had happened in the interview thus far, but she was finding it hard to concentrate.

Lewis’ voice sounds almost muffled as her gaze goes from the lights to the many cameras and many people in the audience. “When will I ever get used to this?”

“So Y/N,” James says, pulling her back into the moment. “Your hit song ‘All You Never Say’ came out nearly a year ago today, did you expect it to have the success it did?”

“Never, honestly this is still surreal.” She nods her head toward Lewis, “We’ve talked about it and the whole thing still seems crazy, we were still just gigging in bars together a few years ago, now here we are.”

“Now I think we have a question on everyone’s minds, did the person the song is about realize it’s about them and have you both fallen madly in love?” Corden teases with a mischievous grin.

Y/N forces an uncomfortable laugh and adjusts in her seat, “No, I don’t think he knows it’s about him quite yet.”

“Does that mean you’ve fallen madly in love but he doesn’t know about the song or no to them both?” James chuckles.

“Yes Y/N,” Lewis says turning toward her with a teasing grin, holding an imaginary microphone up to her, “How does HE feel about YOU?”

“Well I don’t know that answer seeing as he’s you,” Y/N snaps back immediately, her cheeks red at his question.

And within seconds she’s realized what she’s said. James’ mouth hangs open, Lewis’ eyes wide with shock, and nearly every face in the audience mirroring a similar look to that of the two of them.

Y/N loudly clears her throat, “So uh, yeah how about ‘Lost,’ let’s talk about that.”

“Of course,” James says recovering quickly. “You two wrote the song together?”

“Y-yeah, we did,” Lewis mumbles, stealing a glance at Y/N beside him as he tries to focus on the question. “We’ve written together for years. One of the songs on her EP we actually wrote together. And we’ve definitely sang together before, we just never found the right song to actually record together until this one.”

The rest of the interview continues on as normally as it could after her outburst, but Y/N finds herself sinking further and further into her seat as it goes on. She lets Lewis answer most of the questions, but feels ashamed to look at him.

When finally the producer ends the segment, she’s up and out of her chair and sprinting to the back as she hears Lewis shout her name. Making a beeline for her dressing room, she makes it to the door hastily unlocking it and slips in. However, as she shuts it behind her it bounces back in her hands as she looks down to see a black and white Van stopping it from closing.

“Did you mean that? What you said?” Lewis demands as he peaks through the opening at Y/N. His face is bright red, and he’s obviously just as out of breath as she from her mad dash.

“I- I mean, I wasn’t going to…” she stumbles, having a hard time looking at him. “Yes,” she finally admits as she focus on his shoe stuck in the doorway.

“Please let me in,” he says softly as he leans into the door.

Backing away from the door and retreating to one of the chairs in the room, she just continues to stare at the floor. The sounds of him entering and closing the door behind him, then sitting on the stool beside her are the only sounds in the room.

“Almost gave me a heart attack, bolting away like that,” he finally comments. “When did you have fucking time to become an Olympic sprinter?”

A small chuckle leaves her as she glances up at his red face, and watches him run his fingers through his hair, “Running from my problems gave me enough practice.”

“Fair,” he responds with a smirk and rubs his palms on his jeans, as his own gaze drifts away from her.

“I understand if you’re mad,” she says after a few moments. “And I can understand if you want some time away from me after this, but you’re really important to me. I don’t want to lose our friendship, that’s why I’ve never said anything. I want to still be friends if you can… forget this or move past it.”

Lewis’ brow raises at her words and fidgeting in his seat, “I- that’s not what I want.”

His words sting, but it’s not like she didn’t expect them. Training her gaze back on the floor she sighs, “I understand. And I’m sorry. I know we have to finish up the hype for this song, but I’ll distance myself after that.”

“What the fuck, no!” He yells immediately, “That’s not what I meant at all, I, well I feel the same way.”

“You’re kidding me,” she states, her mouth agape as she searches his eyes for the joke. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” he says simply as he kicks at the floor. “When we were teenagers you never seemed interested in me in that way, then I was gone all the time for my career so we were never together. Then we were suddenly touring together, writing together, and I… I’d gotten close to bringing it up. Then you released ‘All You Never Say’.”

“Why did that stop you?”

He rolls his eyes at her question, “You released a song about how you’re madly in love with someone that you can’t tell them that you love them because it wouldn’t work out, they wouldn’t feel the same. All the while things between us staying exactly the same, and when I tried to press you for details on this guy, you completely shut down on me. Was I supposed to just say ‘well I understand that you love someone else, but have I got news for you’?”

“When you put it that way,” she nods with a sigh. “Never thought there was even a chance you felt the same way. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by adding feelings you didn’t reciprocate. I wrote it when we started touring together, because all the feelings I’d had for you came back full force, and I had to write something to let it out. I didn’t think there was a chance it’d take off like that or that you’d see it that way.”

After a few moments of silence between the two, Lewis finally chuckles.

“What?”

“Here I’ve been sitting all salty that you’re singing about some guy that won’t love you back, hating whoever he is for making you feel that way and making it impossible for me to ever say anything. And this whole time, it’s fuckin been me,” he says with a grin, shaking his head. “Fuckin unreal.”

“Ironic,” she agrees with her own laugh, feeling lighter than she’s felt in years. Getting up from her chair, she walks over to stand in front of him.

He looks at her quizzically as she hesitantly gets closer, moving until she’s standing between his legs, nearly flush to the stool he’s sitting on, “There’s… nothing stopping us now right?”

“Good point,” he nearly whispers back, his breath tickling her face at the close proximity. “Are you going to do something about it?”

“Do you want me to?” she teases, leaning in ever closer, his face immediately tilting toward hers.

“Do it,” he urges, his hands going to her hips.

Her hands rest on the stool on either side of him as she presses her lips softly his, almost immediately pulling back with a grin.

He grunts in frustration as he pulls her as close as he can.

Leaning in she presses her lips to his once again feather light as his eyes drift shut. Instead of deepening the kiss, she opts to gently bite his bottom lip, holding it between her teeth and his eyes slowly drift back open.

This time a groan leaves him as she releases his lip, “You’re gonna kill me like this Y/N, I’ve wanted this for years.”

“I have too,” she whispers leaning in toward his ear, blowing on it gently as he shudders against her. “Don’t want to rush it though do we?”

“We do,” he mumbles as she chuckles in his ear.

Running her hands up his thighs, she leans back to look at his face once again, his eyes hooded as he watches her every move.

“Maybe that’s enough for now?” she teases, pretending to pull away.

Within seconds his lips are pressed to hers, a surprised gasp leaving her as she leans into him. His lips hungry and urgent against hers.

Her hands reach up to clutch the fabric of his shirt as she gives him control and his hands roam up her back.

His lips leave hers as she looks at him almost in a daze, a lazy smile on his face before he turns his attention to placing kisses up her exposed neck.

“Lewis,” she groans, leaning her head back for him.

Just as his hand goes to slip under her shirt, the door to the dressing room swings open, causing the two to attempt to jump apart. However, failing in that as they both crash to the floor falling off the stool in a tangled mess.

“Oh!” James exclaims backing up from the door before laughing. “I was just coming to check that everything was alright with the two of you, but it appears it’s more than ok.”

Y/N can feel her face flushing red as her and Lewis untangle themselves, “Y-yeah we’re good.”

“Are you sure neither of you need medical attention? That was quite the collapse to the floor,” he teases.

“Nope, we’re fine,” Lewis insists, climbing to his feet and offering a hand to pull Y/N up as well. “And nothing happened right?” he asks hopefully.

“You mean I can’t be the one to announce the new celebrity couple that became a couple on my show?” James continues to tease as Lewis’ face reaches a similar shade of red as Y/N.

“I- well,” he stumbles trying to figure out how to answer before settling just adjusting his shirt.

“I’m just teasing you two,” he finally says. “I’m glad this ended far better than what I was expecting to find back here. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be.” He slips out of the room quickly, pulling the door shut behind him.

As the door shuts, both Lewis and Y/N exhale in relief, immediately glancing toward one another at the sound, and a fit of laughter taking over both of them.

“It only took us about eight years, two record label deals, a worldwide tour, several songs written together, and a fuck up on live television for us to admit we’ve liked each other since we were 16. I’d call that a massive success,” Lewis grins as he pulls her in close to him again.

“Oh is that all?” she says shaking her head, “Couldn’t have gone smoother.”

“So… food?” he suggests, draping his arm across her shoulders. “There’s no use hiding it when you told the world already.”

“Good point,” she muses leaning into his side. “Pizza?”

“You read my mind.”

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Song mentioned as being theirs are ‘All You Never Say’ by Birdy, and ‘lost’ by Loote. Chose those since the vibe of the lyrics fit the type of song I was looking for with this :)

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bucky-iss-bae · 4 years ago

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Reminiscences - Peter Hale x OFC (Part 2)

Hello againnnn - so I’m finally back, finally going to be active.

My life has been a mess, I’ve not been motivated, and mentally I’ve gone through a lot the last 10 months, got thorugh University, Graduated, got a job, was a shit job, got another grad job during quarentine, and it’s been good and bad...

Sorry for never posting and being bad at this, but I want to bounce back, so now its timmmeee. Also this Fic is actually completed.

Want to post more, and just give you guys good content xoxo

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Peter Hale x OFC (Calla)

Word Count: 2900 (Sorryyy, idk why it’s so long)

Warnings: None - Slow Start I guess

Summary: Calla has grown up as Derek’s best friend, she’s known the Hales her whole life,she’s known their secrets and everything in Beacon Hills. Things in Beacon Hills are quiet, the pack are a family, and Calla realises that Peter knows more of her secrets than she realises.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy, any feedback is welcome x

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Peter Hale x OFC - Reminiscenes Part 1

Part 2

The days following that evening I completely ignored Peter. I saw him whenever he was lurking around Derek’s, I even went to the efforts of walking the complete opposite direction as him when I went grocery shopping. But if he remembers, everything every single thing I told him. Then I may as well die now. Especially since he’ll use that against me. This is Peter we’re on about.

“So you’ve apparently been ignoring Peter?” Derek asked once he settled onto my couch on Thursday.

I rolled my eyes, “And. There’s nothing wrong with that, he’s a psycho”

Derek huffed out a laugh, “There is when it makes him mopey. He comes around to mine in hope that you’re there you know”

“Well, maybe he should stop trying to be such a stalker” I told his nephew. It was weird that there was such a large but short age difference between Peter and us. He wasn’t ever seen as the adult when we were younger, he had a boyish smirk, he had charm, and wit, and was so different compared to how he is now. He completely changed because of the fire, and the 5 years of solitude almost. He grew up, yet I didn’t see this change despite being the only person visiting him. I didn’t know he was the alpha yet I made a fool out of myself by being there for him, and he couldn’t even trust me.

“You sure it’s that?” Derek asked.

“Derek. If you’re here to talk about Peter then you can just leave. Actually no you can’t you don’t have an option, stop talking about Peter, tonight is about us. If you want I’ll send him a text saying hi later and then ignore him”

Derek shook his head a small smirk on his face. I felt a bit bad that I was taking Derek away from his boyfriend. But I needed my best friend sometimes as well.

“Good, now how are things with Stiles going?”

Derek huffed out a laugh, “They’re going well. Really well actually, never really thought that I would end up with him, but it’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. And I sound like a soppy teenager. So let’s talk about your love life”

I snorted, “Right, what love life? Actually, I went on a date last week, it was a complete failure. I’m just glad that the girls who set me up with him don’t work in the same department as him”

Derek started to laugh, “How comes I didn’t know about this?”

“Because I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t even... it wasn’t even a big deal for me. I wasn’t excited, I just wanted to get it over and done with, and the worst thing is when I was getting into my car at the end of the night he tried to kiss me. And Derek I still cringe, what happened was I turned my head so fast he kissed my hair. Completely missed the cheek”

This caused Derek to laugh, loudly, at me. “Wow Calla. Who would’ve thought huh?” He asked.

I rolled my eyes at him, “Shut up. It was a mess, so I rather not talk about that. Instead, I’m going to set up a tinder profile.”

Derek still had this amused smirk on his face, it was nice seeing him like this. For the first time in years, he was happy. His life was on track, sure there were constant threats to the town, but that happens, that’s part of the job description of being a werewolf, and with Derek being a complete shifter, it makes a difference.

But being with Stiles makes a difference, you can literally see the way that he looks at him, and I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time. He’s almost that young cocky guy he once was, but a more matured version who has a history to him. Who has so much more to himself than ever before, and I’m proud of him. Proud of everything he’s gone through and defeated. I know his mom, and sister would also be proud of him, whether he’s an alpha or not, he’s still so powerful, and has such a good heart.

“Let’s get started then” He grinned at me.

I rolled my eyes and rather than Pizza we ordered Chinese food, and rather than watching a film we created a tinder profile for me. It was terrible, Derek called in the big guns and Stiles was on Face time with us, which made it even worse for me. But I didn’t mind, I love stiles, and boy let me tell you he added spice to my basic profile. And obviously gave my pictures a yes or no.

“I’ve helped you guys this far, let me help with the swiping” Stiles said through the phone.

I scoffed at him, “Derek say bye to your man he’s helped enough”

Derek shook his head with a small smile on his face, “You heard the boss” He said to him.

“All that help, you better show me your matches or who you’ve spoken to over the next few days Calla. I’ll know if you don’t”

I laughed at him and Derek soon hung up, “Come on, let’s see who’s around then”

Both Derek and I started swipping through these guys, commenting to each other, and swiping left or right. Mainly left. Let’s be honest. Most of these guys either looked like guys who were balding too early in life, or others who were after a quick fuck. Despite everything I did manage to swipe right a few times.

“Please let’s stop now. Like, if you think I’m going actually going to find anyone through tinder its... not likely. It’s just a bit of fun, could lead to a quick lay”

“The same way Stiles and I getting together wasn’t likely”

I grinned at him “I should’ve called it. When you constantly wanted to get mad at him, way back when, and you just couldn’t. But that itself feels like years ago”

“Yeah, the same way my uncle spared your life?” Derek said back.

I glared at him and hit his arm, “I hate you, and I’m pretty sure your uncle is a sociopath”

“Yeah. Same but, let’s be real here. He has a soft spot for you Calla”

“Derek, I will stab you if you don’t shut up.”

“I would love to see you try”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “I will call Argent right now and get him to help me out”

He laughed, “Alright, I’ll shut up now. I’m sorry”

I nodded, “You better be sorry... Also why do you keep bringing up your uncle of all people to me?” I asked curiously.

Derek knows nothing of what I done whilst he was away, he knows nothing of the feelings I once harboured for Peter, maybe I still do which is why I’m so defensive, but no one needs to know this. But still, there’s got to be a reason behind Derek’s madness right now. Maybe Peter wormed his way into his head? It’s a possibility.

“You just said you wanted me to shut up”

I shrugged, “Just curious. Then you can shut up, and we can watch something”

He shook his head, “The way he acts around you I guess. He’s a prick towards everyone, including you don’t get me wrong, but he’s a different type of prick round you. And he cares about you, he gets protective, worries, cares”

I would be lying if I said that didn’t affect me, but it does. Although it means nothing.

“Derek, are you forgetting that I was basically raised around him. Wherever you were, he was, or the other way around. Like he’s been a constant figure in my life for a very long time. Sure he wasn’t mobile for a few of those years. But he was still in Beacon Hills. So maybe that’s why, maybe he has something that slightly resembles feelings from when he’s younger and he sees me as the kid that he used to teach basketball to, and just putting this out there I am amazing at basketball, which has got to be the meaning behind this madness, and this is because of him, and maybe a little you, but still”

“Really? We live in this town, and that’s what you call madness?” He asked.

“Yes Derek. That is madness, you’re forgetting I’m just a human girl who only just knows how to defend herself and I rather have that as my type of madness instead of anything else”

“How have you actually been?” He asked me giving me a serious look, “Like... you’ve literally been thrown into this world again, months after your parents passed away, and sure that was a couple of years ago, but you rarely see your younger brother because he’s working abroad, and the only other family you have is us. But most weekends we’re off fighting something supernatural, and you’re just at the loft, waiting.”

I shrugged, “I’m fine Derek. I’m happy... sure I miss my parents a lot and that set me back a lot. That made me want to constantly curl up into a ball and just cry. But having you back, having this normal-ish again. These last few months, I’ve gotten better. Ive also got my girls” I said with a smile, but he looked at me, waiting for me to elaborate causing me to sigh and twist my body completely towards him,

“Derek, I’m working an amazing Job, sure it doesn’t pay the best but I don’t need the money. I have money, instead I’m doing something I enjoy, and they’re easy shifts. I’ve always wanted to be an elementary teacher, but without the stress so a teaching assistant is the best thing. And I have Fridays off, and I do talk to my brother. Just not as often as I want because he’s doing so well for himself in London. And I have you Derek, I have my life long best friend. After everything we’ve been through we’re both here and we’re both happy. Sure my life could be further along than it currently is, but I’m finally in a good place”

He nodded at me, “Good” He whispered, “I’m happy to hear that”

“I hate you” I said shaking my head, but in reality he knows that I love him and he is my absolute best friend no matter how much I want to kill him.

Apparently Lydia and Malia found it amusing that I now have an online dating profile. Everyone did, all aside from one person. That person I’m still avoiding but he still finds a way to worm his way into my life, especially since I’m currently sat with the girls, who are judging each and every guy whose photo I scroll through, and his face pops up.

Malia was laughing, seeing her father’s face on my phone, and Lydia finding it as amusing made me realise I need more friends other than Derek my age. Especially since Lydia decided on swiping right.

“Well, well, it’s a match” Lydia laughed, “But it makes me think, whats the maximum age you’re hitting here”

I rolled my eyes with a small scoff, trying to keep my heartbeat in place, “Well, if I wanted to talk to him. I would, yet I’m not, and you just swiped for me, that’s not fair, and guy my age are… I don’t know” I said to them.

“Well he clearly wants to talk to you” Lydia murmured.

I scoffed, “He wants to get under my skin. It’s what he does. Anyway don’t you girls have I don’t know other stuff to do?” I asked trying to change the subject.

“Nope, completely free tonight.” Lydia grinned.

I internally groaned but only seconds later was I literally saved by the bell, my phone started to ring, and Derek’s name popped up.

“Hello” I answered.

“Where are you?” He asked.

“I’m at Lydia’s place. With Lydia and Malia. Why?”

“No reason. Just, a few threats about, tell me when you’re going to leave to get home, and message me when you get there alright”

I rolled my eyes but had a small smile on my face, “Yes of course Derek. Do you know who or what it is?”

“Not sure yet. Probably isn’t something too dangerous. But whatever it is, they’re drawing other hunters to town. And now we have twice as much to look out for.”

“Stay safe then Derek. Does Chris know the hunters?”

“He’s looking into it”

I nodded, “Alright then. Just make sure you’re all safe and everything ok”

“Yeah always. Remember to message me when you get home” He then hung up and I looked at Lydia,

“What’s happened?” She asked me,

“Something else is out there, along with some hunters. And now I’m worried that these hunters will obviously know about our boys, and one thing will lead to another and someone might get hurt”

She had a worried expression on her face before looking at Malia who was on the phone to Scott, “We’ll figure it out. We always do”

I nodded, although I didn’t get involved as much considering I’m human with no special ability at all, and no badge, and well I’m not the smartest of the bunch. I just make sure everyone’s safe and worry about them all whilst making sure they eat and do their homework. That’s obviously the teacher side of me coming out there, no matter what ages I teach even if I am only a teaching assistant who works 4 days a week.

“So Scott just said that Stiles and Chris are trying to find out who the hunters actually are, and that he Derek and Peter are going to find whatever’s out there. He told me to stay here...”

“You’re not are you?” Lydia asked.

Malia smirked and shook her head, “Nope. And I’m pretty sure you two won’t either, so who’s going to drop me off at Scott’s house?”

Both Lydia and I looked at each other before sighing and getting up, we got our stuff together, she called out to her mom telling her that we were going to Scott’s before we all left.

“What are you all doing here?” Scott asked once we walked in.

“You think we’re really going to let all the boys have the fun?” Malia asked her boyfriend, “And come on, I know those woods better than anything” She shrugged.

No one could deny that, both her and Chris were the best hunters here. As in being able to physically find something with the given clues.

“And I’m here to assist Stiles and Chris apparently” Lydia shrugged, everyone easily let that pass before all eyes were on me.

“I thought I told you to go home. It’s dangerous”

I shrugged, “I know. I really didn’t have any other choice” I said nodding my head towards Malia.

“Well you should just go home then. You’ll just be in the way otherwise” Peter snapped at me.

I rose my eyebrows at him, silently cursing Lydia for swiping right on his stupid face.

“I might just stay, make sure you don’t snake anyone out” I spat back to him.

“What and you think you’ll be able to stop me?”

“Peter won’t do anything, we’re not even sure what the problem is at the moment. So just go home Calla” Derek told me.

I felt a bit taken back at how blunt and rude he was at that, and considering no one decided on saying anything, I just grabbed my bag and left without a word. Because hey there’s nothing new there, being treated like I’m nothing despite seeing everyone as family. I would’ve expected a bit more considering they’ve got literal kids in there helping yet I can’t. Even if it is to make sure they’re all safe and not making stupid plans. I was there when Talia was alpha, I know how things work. Instead I just get embarrassed surrounded by my friends, and left to feel worthless because I’m of no help.

As soon as I got in my car, I knew that all I needed right now was a glass of wine, and some trash TV.

Which is exactly what I done when I got home, wine, some trash TV, and the comfort of my own apartment. And as petty as I may sound, I just hate feeling this way, and knowing that it’s something that constantly happens, I don’t see why I get involved in the first place. It’s the same old thing, I try and be there for everyone, they shut me out whenever shit goes down and I just keep running back. But no this isn’t going to keep happening because this week I will make the time and effort to go out with my girlfriends. I’ll dress up and have fun without worrying about anything else. Derek won’t be there to stop me, Peter won’t be there with his snarky remarks, and I won’t be surrounded by teenagers.

Which is exactly why I messaged my friends that I’m always talking to yet never have the time to see because I’m constantly with everyone else. We spoke for a little while before I asked when everyone was free for drinks, and guess what this girl is doing on Thursday after work. A night out, with my girls, and I can’t wait.

Because I really felt in the mood to treat myself, I also planned on going shopping with one of the girls tomorrow after work. So no harm done there, I’ll buy myself a new outfit, some new makeup all ready for Thursday.

Peter Hale x OFC - Reminiscences Part 3

#Peter Hale #Peter Hale Imagine #Peter Hale Fan Fic #Peter Hale Fan Fiction #Teen Wolf #Peter Hale x OFC #OFC #Original Female Character #Teen Wolf Fic #Teen Wolf Fan Fiction #Reminiscences

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captainillogical · 5 years ago

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Devil’s Ballroom ch.2

A year after the events from the earth’s final attack, Little Homeworld is finally complete, and there’s a new jazz bar where gems and humans mingle and drink. - As you’re typing back a reply, someone pulls the stool out next to you and takes a seat. You see a sliver of pink out of the corner of your eye as you try not to actually Look. Oh god. It’s her. God can’t help us now.

Spinel/Reader

collab with wife @firstofficertightpants

The place actually happened to be like, right on the edge of Little Homeworld. Outside had full glass windows, tall, that reached the ceiling. Inside the lighting was dim, and a bit smokey. You figured it looked alright enough to head in, and gave the bouncer your ID. He nodded and you walked in. It smelt of cigars, and of cinnamon, and it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. A pretty woman in a low-cut red dress was playing the piano on the stage, and it was some contemporary jazz piece. The low murmur of people talking filled the air in between the swells of music, and the place actually seemed busy with people and even gems enjoying themselves. You liked the vibe. It was.. comfortable. At ease. You looked over at the bar, rather than any of the tables, and saw a spot near the end. Perfect. Right by the bathroom. You headed over and plopped down on the stool. There were three empty at the end, so you took the one in the middle, which had the best view of the stage from back here.

While waiting for the bartender to come back down this side, you took the chance to look at the people around you. A couple familiar faces.. small town you know? And some new ones. New gems too. You can see Mr. Fryman sitting at a table with Kofi and Nanefua, and they look like they’re playing poker. You try not to snicker since Kofi looks absolutely blasted, and Mr. Fryman is cursing up a storm because Nanefua is clearly winning. You see her wink at Mr. Fryman. You suspect a rigged game.

Your phone chimes a couple times. You pull it out of your bag, and check to see who’s bothering you. Ah. The group chat.

Alex: ughhh you guys my gmas killing me

Alex: no seriously mexico fucking blows rn

Alex: i cant step outside without feeling like my balls are melting off my body

Alex: and my brother won’t stop listening to the book of mormon soundtrack

Alex: im going insane

Your friends are so melodramatic. You type out a couple of replies.

Y/N: You should be used to mexican summers by now, you go every year.

Y/N: And for the record, your brother is valid. Book of Mormon slaps.

Alex: what the fuck youre supposed to be on my side u ass

Alex: i thought our special thing was wicked. OUR SPECIAL THING, Y/N

Y/N: I’m allowed to like multiple things. Including musicals.

Alex: never. fuck you. also what are you even doing rn come play minecraft with me

Y/N: Yeah as much as I’d like to, I can’t.

“Y/N! So you finally came to see what this place is all about! What can I get ya?” you hear a familiar voice ask. Turning around to face the voice, you see Bismuth wearing her usual overalls and a rather nice looking bow tie.

“Hey Bis, how’s it going? I like what you’ve done with the place. It’s nice. And uh, I’ll just take a hard cider for now.” You smile at her and set your phone down for a minute.

“Thank you! After we finished Little Homeworld, I had to find something else to focus on in my down time.” She explains while grabbing your drink from the fridge under her side of the bar, and opens it. “So tell me,” She sits the drink in front of you and leans on the counter. “What brings you out here today?”

You take a rather long sip from your drink before meeting the large gems eyes. On the stage, a tall, beardy man replaces the woman that just finished her piece. He immediately starts this jaunty, irish tune. He’s singing loudly, and it’s not bad. A couple of people are clapping to the tune.

“I just really needed to get out.” You replied, taking another sip from your drink. “I was kinda hoping I’d meet someone new, maybe get another friend to hang out with, since my friends wanted to ditch me this summer.” As you’re saying this, more people join the clapping. It’s getting a bit rowdy. “Or maybe at least get drunk enough to forget how lonely I feel.” You add, shrugging.

“Well, I can supply the drinks, and at least a bit of company.” Bismuth winks, and turns to the patron 6 seats up waving her over.

You check your phone again, and there’s more from Alex. AND Harper? She must still have phone service wherever she’s at. Alex: what are u fuckin doin that so important that u cant play minecraft with ur best friend

Harper: yeah, Y/N. the heck. Also alex, get lost, she’s MY best friend bitch

Alex: u had ur chances but u left us so we’re a duo now. u can go

Harper: excuse me!? I WILL end you.

Y/N: Oh my god, chill. I’m just out right now, so I can’t okay?

Y/N: And nice of you to join us, Harper.

Harper: fuck you I miss you okay. And I miss constant wifi :(

Alex: OUT!? What do you mean OUT. its night. u play games with ME during this time

Alex: for real what the fuck are you doing

Harper: yeah, you don’t go out without us. Wtf are you doing?

Y/N: I’m at a bar!! Alex: WHAT

Alex: dont tell me its the one place that just opened

Alex: Y/N do NOT betray me you TOLD ME you were gonna go with me!!

Y/N: I was. But I was also bored and you’re both gone, soooo.

Alex: wow

Alex: i cant believe youve done this to me

Harper: hmmm. ;)

Harper: hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm ;)

Y/N: What.

Harper: you tryin to find girls again?

Harper: like that one time you went to empire city just to peruse the mall?

Alex: LMAOOOOO

Y/N: No.

Alex: LMAOOOO Y/N GOOD LUCK TRYING TO FIND A GF LOLL

Y/N: I’m not trying to find a girlfriend you fucks. Christ.

Y/N: Also Alex, you’re one to talk. You can’t KEEP a girlfriend.

Alex: ur just mad i have a passionate and intimate relationship w/ my hand

Y/N: And it will probably stay that way.

Y/N: Besides, so far, no one cute here. So it’s a bust.

Harper: a bust. Lmfao u just outed yourself :)

Y/N: Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

You put your phone down before seeing whatever Alex attempts to reply back with. It sounds like the current boisterous song is coming to a close, and really, most of the people here are clapping along with this guy. It’s fun. And despite the playful ribbing from your shit-talking friends, you’re starting to have a nice time. You finish your drink, and nod over to Bismuth who catches your eye and nods back. You look over onto the stage, the man having cleared the piano, and see Lapis wiping down the piano and seat. Guess he spilled his drink while playing. Lapis, unlike Bismuth, actually dressed up a bit for the job. Her hair was pulled in a cute, small bun, and she was wearing what looks like a tailored tux with no jacket. The vest fit her quite well. She seemed.. happy. Good for her.

No one had taken up the stage again yet, but the place was still lively with chatter. You see someone out of the corner of your eye move towards the stage, but Bismuth comes over again so you tear your gaze away.

“Another cider? Or do you want something else this time, Y/N? She asks, cleaning a glass with a rag, and moves on to the next one.

“Ehh, yeah, give me another cider.” You say as you pull out your phone again. Bismuth sets down the drink in front of you.

Harper: what a goddamn disaster. she got that from me i think

Alex: no, youre both disasters separately

Y/N: Fuck you guys. Give me a break.

You hear the piano start to play again, and someone pulling the mic forward. You look up to see pink hair.. And someone kind of familiar. She’s wearing black slacks, a white collared shirt, and suspenders. The shirt is partially open, and you see part of a pink gem showing through on her chest. It looks like she’s got mascara running down her face.

And then.. she starts to sing.

It’s lovely. It’s slow and a bit sad, but she seems to be enjoying herself. She’s definitely done this before. Quite a few of the people around quiet down some, so you can hear her pretty clearly. You drink some, and text your friends.

Y/N: Guys, I lied. There’s a cute gem here who can sing.

Alex: holy fuk

Alex: what

Y/N: She looks kind of familiar though? I can’t quite place it though.

Harper: dude theres like near 100 gems now in little homeworld lol

Harper: you’ve probs seen most in passing? :P

Alex: are you serious Y/N? cant flirt with human women so u turn to aliens? lmfao

Y/N: Ohhhhh my god. Die.

The gem on stage sings the chorus with gusto - man she’s really getting into this. You’re kind of taken a bit with her performance. It just pulls you. But also.. She really seems familiar now and it’s bothering you.

Y/N: No I’m serious she seems really familiar and not in that In Passing kind of way.

Harper: what does she look like?

Alex: yeah a description would be nice

Harper: TAKE A PIC

Alex: holy shit YES

Y/N: I can’t take a pic. She’s too far away, it’ll be blurry.

Alex: literally just zoom in lord almighty

Y/N: Okay. Hold on a sec.

You turn on your camera app, and face the stage. Looks like the gem is actually finishing up her song. Perfect, you’ll snap a pic once she stands up. She finishes, and most of the people are clapping for her. You zoom in, and it’s grainy, but decent enough to make out most of her. You snap the pic.

The flash was on.

A couple people turn to look at you, and you try turning away quickly, horrified, and see the gem looking in your direction before walking off into the crowd of people. You cannot imagine a worse scenario.

Y/N: FUCK FUCCCCKKKKKK.

Y/N: (image sent)

Y/N: I GOT YOUR FUCKING PIC BUT THE FLASH IS ON.

Y/N: I’M PRETTY SURE SHE SAW THAT IT WAS ME THAT TOOK THE PIC.

With shaking hands, you take another sip of your drink and wait for a reply. Why is life like this.

Harper: uh.

Harper: ummm.

Alex: wait

Alex: one fucking second

Y/N: WHY ARE NONE OF YOU CARING ABOUT MY PLIGHT.

Y/N: I’M TRYING NOT TO COMBUST ON THE SPOT HERE.

Alex: shut up for one second

Alex: harper isnt that

Harper: uhh. yeah i think so.

Y/N: WHAT!? WHO IS IT. WHY DOES THAT MATTER AT THIS POINT.

Alex: lmao i cant believe i have to tell u this

Alex: bitch do u remember that shit that happened last summer

Alex: where half the town almost died from that gem shit

Alex: that’s her Alex: that’s the bitch who almost killed like, the entire planet

Harper: you know that night your dad almost died??

As you’re typing back a reply, someone pulls the stool out next to you and takes a seat. You see a sliver of pink out of the corner of your eye as you try not to actually Look. Oh god. It’s her. God can’t help us now.

#spinel #spinel x reader #spinel su #steven universe #spinel self insert #my fic #devils ballroom

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the-mangled-readings · 5 years ago

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Project AI0.043 (Part 5)

lA/N: With Today’s new Part, I wanted to move things ahead just a little, so we can have a better understanding of what’s going to happen on the future parts, it will all make sense, I promise.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Story Summary: On the 12th Hour of the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began. Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible. He got seven of them but never found the last one.

Chapter Summary: We jump WAY ahead into the present, when Five comes back to the Past, and learn a little about the situation Five and the Reader got into.

Warnings: Spoilers, violence, blood, Language.

Word Count: 3,030

Tag List: @featuringcone9 @lesbianismybitchname @fiveisadorable @here-in-never-land sweetingcas @whatawildone

November 22, 1963 - John F. Kennedy Assassination Day

“Alright, I’m in position Foxtrot ... What's your status?” You spoke through your headset, waiting for Five to answer. Nothing. “Foxtrot ...”

“I’m here Alfa, I’m just enjoying the view, my partner looks marvelous with that infantry rifle.” He praised, making you grin at his comment. “It’s a 6.5×52mm Carcano Model 91/38, if I may say ...” You teased over the headset.

“Hey, um-I’ve been thinking lately ...” His tone quickly changing. “Yeah, about what?” You asked, repositioning on the spot. “I think I know the equation ...” The both of you stayed silent, you knew what those words meant, he founded a way to go back. “Five, we can’t do that now ...” You warned him. “Yeah well, I think I don’t got much of a choice now, do I Anya”

You knew he wasn’t going to let this go, he was hardheaded when it came to going back in his time, at the beginning you had promised him that you were going to help him, and you did but through the years, the both of you became closer than ever, you had been married for a decade and you knew if he left, all of those years would be gone too, but you knew it was also important to him, since his siblings died in the Apocalypse. “Anya, I need you t-”

“No, please, not right now.” You quickly cut him off, your voice breaking on the process. “If not now, then when, huh?”

(Announcer on Radio)

... Dallas Love Field, the Dallas-Fort Worth area broadcasters bring you a special description of the arrival of President John F. Kennedy.

“Please Anya ...” Five begged. Time was running out, if he was going to do this, it was now or never.

And the crowd yells, and the president of the United States ...

“Okay ... Give me a second.” You finally gave in, taking a deep breath you teleported part of yourself towards Five location, leaving another double on your previous spot. “I’m here ...” Placing a hand over Five’s shoulder he smiled back at you.

(Announcer 2 on Radio)

... To get another view of the president as he and his First Lady depart Love Field.

“Are you sure you got the right equation this time, I don’t want to repeat Vietnam.” You insisted, only making him chuckle. “I’m sure of bit, it’s going to work I promise.” He held your chin up, wiping a tear away from your cheek. “And if it doesn’t ... I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t ...” He held your hands up, kissing them softly. “How do you know that ...”

“Because I trust you Printsessa ...” You never knew how, but he would always take your breath away, even with the simplest thing, it always had an effect on you. “Okay ... get ready then.”

(Announcer 3 on Radio)

The presidential car moving out.

The president and First Lady ... head out for downtown Dallas, where thousands should already be on the street right now ...

Five quickly pulled out an old book, scanning through it, trying to find again the equation.

“Come on Five ... we don’t got much time.” You insisted.

(Announcer)

Dallas police out here in force today, doing a beautiful job of handling the crowd along with a contingent of Texas Rangers.

“Found it ...” Five whispered, placing the book on his right side, closing his fists as tight as he could, concentrating deeply. You watched as the air slowly whooshed through you, and began to head electricity crackling through his fists.

“Anya ... Do it ... Now!” Five begged, and you did as you told. Raising your right hand towards him, your body began to light up, your veins and eyes glowed a bright orange, your breathing began to deepen. Fives body was trembling but right ahead of him, a blue like portal began to appear. The wind howled, but everything around them seemed to be stopping in time, and then through the portal, he noticed 5 figures.

“We did it, Anya ... We d-” He turned to see his wife who was tearing up again. “I promise everything is going to be okay, we’ll be together in no time.” He looked back at you, not so sure of his words, which you already knew. “Jus-just G-go ...” Your voice was cracking up from the pain. “I love you, Anya.”

He turned to the portal again, and then saw an object flying through it, a fire extinguisher? But quickly pushed himself through the portal, yelping on the progress. It burned, every second of bit burned, but he didn’t care, it was now or never. He pushed and pushed until he went through it and fell into the floor.

Five slowly got up and watched the figures he saw approach him, it was his sibling, all grown.

“Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?” He heard Klaus asked everybody, and that’s when it hit him. Little? Five looked down and sure enough, he was back as a 13th-year-old boy. “Shit ...”

“What’s the date? The exact date.” Five sighed as he reached over for some bread. “The 24th” Vanya answered, everybody’s eyes were on the small boy. “Of what?” He insisted again. “March.” Taking a moment to think he nodded. “Good.”

“So, are we gonna talk about what just happened?” Luther watched Five closely as he placed two slices of the bread on the wooden board, not saying a word. “It’s been 17 years.” Luther insisted, standing in front of Five, making him scoffed at his statement. “It’s been a lot longer than that.” He teased as he walked through the taller sibling. “I haven’t missed that.” Luther muttered.

“Where’d you go?” Diego continued. “The future. It’s shit, by the way.” Five answered, reaching for marshmallows this time, and returning once more to his previous spot. “Called it!” Klaus pointed. “I should’ve listened to the old man. You know, jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice.” Five explained, placing some peanut butter on the table, quickly making a pause, looking over at his perplexed siblings.“Nice dress.”

“Oh, well, Danke!” Klaus said excitedly.

“Wait, how did you get back?” Vanya asked still confused. “In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time.” Five explained again, only making them more confused. “That makes no sense.” Diego whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Well, it would if you were smarter.” Five teased, making Diego mad, but Luther quickly stopped him. “How long were you there?” Luther continued.

“Forty-five years. Give or take.” Making everyone sink even more on their seats. “So what are you saying? That you’re 58?”

“No, my consciousness is 58. Apparently, my body is now 13 again.” Five scoffed at the question, walking away with his sandwich. “Wait, how does that even work?” Vanya insisted. “Anya kept saying the equations were off. Eh.” Five looked away while taking a bite. “Bet she’s laughing now ... but then again, she was right, I needed her help.”

“Anya?” Vanya asked, making everyone look at Five even more curious. Hmm. Five walked over the table again, picking up some newspaper. “Guess I missed the funeral.” He said while reading over the news of his deceased adoptive father. “How’d you know about that?” Luther asked blankly. “What part of the future do you not understand?” Five’s tone was now annoyed. “Heart failure, huh?” He asked for confirmation. “Yeah.” Diego nodded, but Luther quickly answered with a “No.” Making everyone in the table roll their eyes. Hmm. Five clicked his tongue. “Nice to see nothing’s changed.” He finished, walking away. “Uh, that’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Allison turned to Five, who continued to walk away. “What else is there to say? The circle of life.” Everyone either shook their head or sighed at his response, clearly, he wasn’t worried one bit about the sudden death of their adoptive father. “Well ... That was interesting.” Luther turned to everyone.

Five made his way to his old room, noticing that nothing hadn’t changed around the house either, everything was still in the same place; Scratches, holes, cracks, everything was where it used to be. As he made his way through the door, he quickly opened his closet door, eager to get rid of his old suit only to be welcomed by his old uniform suits. “Ah, shit.”

After changing, he made his way to the old fireplace, standing just ahead of his portrait. He began to hear Vanya’s steps behind him. “Nice to know Dad didn’t forget me.” He turned to see her smiling. “Read your book, by the way. Found it in a library that was still standing.” He began to circle her, noticing her smile quickly dropping. “I thought it was pretty good, all things considered.” He praised. “Yeah, definitely ballsy, giving up the family secrets.” Finally turning to her. “Sure that went over well.”

“They hate me.” Her voice softly breaking. “Oh, there are worse things that can happen.” He reassured her. “You mean like what happened to Ben?”

“Was it bad?” Five asked, but Vanya only nodded painfully. A long and thick silence began to take over them, while outside the thunder only rumbled.

After the long and awkward funeral, and Luther’s and Diego’s typical fights, Five had enough.

“We don’t have time for this.” He whispered as he walked away from his siblings. Hearing Ben’s statute being thrown into the floor, Five sighed deeply. “The world is going to end sooner.” Making his way into his room, he laid on the small bed, thinking in his father’s words.

“Nietzsche once said;

Man is as a rope stretched between the animal and the superhuman. A rope over an abyss. It is a dangerous crossing, a dangerous looking-back, a dangerous trembling, and halting. As much as you must strive for individual greatness, and strive you must, for it won’t come to you of its own accord ... you must also remember that there is no individual stronger than the collective.

The ties that bind you together make you stronger than you are alone. They will make you impervious to the pain and hardship the world will thrust upon you. And believe me when I tell you, life will be hard. It will be painful.

We can accomplish anything when we accept responsibility together. This is what creates trust.

Together, you will stand against the reign of evil ...”

Hours passed before he noticed he had knocked out. Quickly making his way down to the kitchen, he began to look around for his energy boost, Caffeine. Hearing someone approaching, it was Allison. “Where's Vanya?” She asked, dropping her coat on one of the chairs, turning to Klaus and Five. “Oh, she’s gone.” Klaus answered, playing with a bass guitar. “That’s unfortunate.” Five point out as he lifted an empty jar.

“Yeah.” Allison responded, not knowing he meant the empty coffee jar. “An entire square block. Forty-two bedrooms, 19 bathrooms, but no, not a single drop of coffee.” He snapped, making Allison frown. “Dad hated caffeine.”

“Well, he hated children, too, and he had plenty of us.” Klaus joked, but they just stood there in awkward silence. “I’m taking the car.”

“Where are you going?” Klaus asked while putting his guitar away. “To get a decent cup of coffee.” Five scoffed. “Do you even know how to drive?” Allison teased. “I know how to do everything.” Making the 13th-year-old snap at her, while jumping through space and ending on the old family cars seat. Turning the engine on and quickly driving off into the nearest coffee shop.

Griddy’s Doughnuts sign shined through the cold and dark night.

The old family car breaks screeched as Five hit them. Quickly parking it on the side and sprinting inside the coffee shop, he took a seat on one of the bar stools, hitting the bell eagerly. Hearing behind him the doors opening too. Sighing, he turned to see an old man, exhaling deeply as he was sitting next of him.

“Sorry, sink was clogged.” A small old blonde waitress appeared, chuckling at the pair. “So, what’ll it be?” She began pulling out her pen and notebook. The man next of Five began his order. “Uh, give me a chocolate éclair.” He smiled warmly at her.

“Mm-hmm. Sure. Can I get the kid a glass of milk or something?” She asked innocently, as she turned to the now annoyed 13th-year-old boy, scoffing at her request he simply said. “The kid wants coffee. Black.” Making the blonde look over at the man next of Five, chuckling nervously. “Cute kid.” Turning to find Five forcing a smile, taking it as her cue that she needed to get going.

Five sighed deeply and turned to the man. “Don’t remember this place being such a shithole. I used to come here as a kid. Used to sneak out with my brothers and sisters and eat doughnuts till we puked. I even brought my wife in here once, and we ended up making it a tradition, to come every year in our anniversary, we used to order milkshakes. Simpler times, huh?” He smiled at the joyful memories he had in this place, not noticing the frown on the man’s face.

“Eh, I suppose.” He answered, still confused as to why is a small boy like him was talking like a grown-up, like if he actually meant it. The small waitress came back and handed them their orders, the man ended up paying for Five, and he couldn’t help to notice that he worked for Ishmael’s Towing. “You must know your way around the city.”

“I hope so. I’ve been driving it for 20 years.” He said smiling. “Good. I need an address.”

After a couple of minutes, the man left, leaving Five alone with his warm coffee, not long before someone else came into the shop. Five noticed a group of 4 armed men, dressed in black, stand behind him. “Hmm. That was fast.” He said bluntly. “I thought I’d have more time before they found me.”

“Okay. So let’s all be professional about this, yeah?”One of the men spoke, he was just inches away from Five, his gun aimed directly at the boy’s head, while everybody else stood by, watching them. “On your feet and come with us. They want to talk.” He ordered.

“I’ve got nothing to say.” Five’s tone was so calmed, the men started to worry. “It doesn’t have to go this way. You think I want to shoot a kid? Go home with that on my conscience?” The man insisted. “Well, I wouldn’t worry about that.” Five turned to face the man. “You won’t be going home.” And with that Five slowly grabbed a knife that the waitress had given him, and quickly turned to the man, teleporting behind the armed man and stabbing him behind the neck.

One by one, they all dropped dead.

Five sighed and walked over to one of the dead bodies, taking his tie off his neck, and quickly fixing it on him. He began to hear gruntings from the other side and slowly walked over, kneeling over the struggling man, snapping his neck instantly. He was about to leave when he noticed a blue butterfly fly over the shop, landing on his right forearm. “Hello, Printsessa .” He smiled and turned his gaze towards the butterflies direction, a green glowing box, it was a tracker. “I guess I got no choice, huh.” And the butterfly stood still, making his way to one of the tables, Five took one of the man's knife and rolled up his sleeve. The butterfly watched on top of the coffee cup, as Five slowly cut through his right forearm, groaning from the pain he took a small green chip, that wouldn’t stop beeping, watching it closely, he turned to the butterfly. “I guess they’re smart after all, I hope you’re okay wherever you are Anya.” And with that, the butterfly faded away. “Until then Printsessa.”

Five walked away from the bloodied cafe, dropping the chip to a puddle, and fixing his tie once more, before getting in the car and driving off.

After driving around downtown, he founded Vanya’s apartment and decided to make a quick visit. He looked around, she kept it simple, not so much to stare but it sure needed some locks. He heard the jingle of her keys and turned the light on as soon as she stepped in.

“Jesus!” Vanya yelped. “You should have locks on your windows.” He persuaded. “I live on the second floor.” She said while dropping her keys on the side. “Rapist can climb.” He insisted. “You are so weird.” She rolled her eyes while closing the door, behind her.

Taking a seat by him, she noticed blood on his forearm. “Is that blood?”

“It’s nothing.” He brushed her off. “Why are you here?” Five sighed and looked up, not meeting her eyes. “I’ve decided you’re the only one I can trust.”

“Why me?” She insisted. “Because you’re ordinary.” He said only making her look down. “Because you’ll listen.” And with that Vanya quickly ran to the bathroom to retrieve some alcohol, gauze, and tape to clean him up. Five slowly rolled up his sleeve, letting her clean him up. Vanya inhaled deeply as she saw the wound, it looked deep, but Five didn’t even flinch, not even when the alcohol made contact with his skin. “When I jumped forward and got stuck in the future, do you know what I found?”

“No.” She softly said. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“As far as I could tell, I was the last person left alive. I never figured out what killed the human race, but ... I did find something else. The date it happens. The world ends in eight days, and I have no idea how to stop it.” He confessed, watching Vanya's terrified reaction. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 5 years ago

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WhatsApp? Part 6. (Steve Rogers x reader)

Description: You’ve never been lucky with guys. You just wanted to catch someone’s eye, to be loved. One day, that’s about to turn completely - with one fake, completely imagined number a guy gave you

A/N: Sending a nod to Starlord’s direction with this one. ;) Also I am so sorry about the voice attributes rant, I studied special pedagogics and in here, voice, its attributes and the speech itself is a huge part of ENT studies centering around ears, throat, and neck...

A/N: THANK YOU FOR 200 FOLLOWERS. OMG.

A/N: I am sorry, @missdictatorme for no phone s*x. Ily by the way.

A song which I want to highlight for this chapter: Fallingforyou by the 1975.

Warnings: none really?

Tagging: @missdictatorme @songforhema

Read more here, babe ;): Part One Part Two Part three Part four Part five

If you like things in one place, you might like the series master list: H E R E

The time had tendencies to stop when Steve so far, far away from you.

You hadn't got a single clue where could be or what's he doing but you hoped he's safe and well. Sometimes you looked out of the window for ten minutes straight just thinking about where he could be. You checked your phone every morning and evening - nothing. He wasn't really messing around when he told you it can take a whole month before he comes back to you.

Deena, who was a self-proclaimed dancing teacher volunteered to lead the choreo. And she wasn't really bad at it.

At least you had your head all Steve-cleared off do could actually focus on your choreography for the big evening itself. It was somehow borderline racy but still PG-13 friendly as you thought it will be. May made sure it will be. You were dancing in sync, and you were grouped to trios for this one. You were basically repeating actions of the trio which went before you, it was simple yet good, or so you thought. You felt good about it at least.

You were in the last trio along with Deena and Marzia, another girl from your office so it would be double insured that you can't actually fuck up.

The girls made sure you acted all bossy - at some point, you started to use chairs to make it even more clear. That you were the ones being on the top during your dance. Before you could even dance in slight sync, it took you two weeks of every of your working day afternoon. Every one of you worked on it hard and it was paying off. Even you, probably the least talented person, or so you felt, could incredibly sway your hips. You didn't think that you can actually look that deductive yet you did.

Val told you that you were a killer - you took her only partially seriously because she was always friendly flirting with you.

Sometimes Peter came along. He was the sound tech guy every time. And then made fun of you when you accidentally fucked up. You loved that clueless boy so much.

"Okay. What do you think?" - You asked Peter, drinking from a water bottle. It was week three of you almost destroying your legs on those a bit too much tall high heels. You didn't want to wear them - your feet were swollen and hurt after every afternoon, but Deena shushed you off. It should look sexier than you dancing in Canada shoes and that Deena considered a pure fact.

"That you will kill yourself during that turn around with the chair in your hands." - He answered honestly with a childish smile, winging his feet in old Converse shoes from side to side. - “But there is a chance you will kill somebody else, so it's 50-50.”

"How gentle of you, Parker. You must be a real hit with the ladies, am I right?" - You nudged his shoulder, taking those devilish shoes off your feet, massaging them. He grinned at you.

"I can say obscene things like actually liking it out loud here, Y/N. And you know that!" - Peter laughed out loud, showing the gentle wrinkles around his hazelnut eyes. - "And since I ripped your tee off? May would have killed me if she actually heard me saying something nice about you!"

You had to laugh at his remark. You both were poking fun out that event since the next day Pete actually came to visit you, only May didn't find it as amusing as you two. Poor boy never got his free Oreo milkshake. And to be fair - Val actually started the beef with some pretty explicit jokes. And because you two were who you two were, it didn't take so long before you put that beef on fully.

"So continue calling me dumb. That will do. That's basically every girl's dream." - You nudged his head and left to a small cab to change your clothes. Your eyes just checked your phone as they were used to do all along those three weeks.

And your heart performed a fucking parkour jump at the sight of the green diode beeping at your eyes. The breath was caught in your throat when you gulped. Your hands shook by their will when you took the phone in your hands. It was a text from him. Steve was actually back.

As you opened the conversation, his promise popped directly in your head. A call. He promised you a fucking call. Steve willingly offered you to hear his voice. Three weeks ago. And now he was back. You were on cloud fucking nine. That was an offer you couldn't pass on.

Steve: I was so looking forward to texting you from the moment we took off. I'm back and well, Y/N.

Dear lord, you thought to himself, your eyes were firmly closed and you could feel a smile creeping on your lips. Thank you for keeping that man safe and well. Thank you for letting him come back.

Y/N: I missed you so much and I have so much thing to tell you! How was your little work trip?

You couldn't care less about being eager or too obvious with being excited about him being back. It was just natural for you to be excited. You had to tell Peter, so you changed your clothes the quickest way. You ran away from the cab looking like a mess with your bag over your shoulder with your smile looking better than a five-star hotel.

"Pete, Pete, Pete!" - You quirked in a high pitch. Peter wasn't sure if you hadn't got mad, looking at you with his puppy eyes in a horrified manner.

"Tell me that you have won a million dollars and I don't have to go to school anymore. I beg you." - Peter mumbled with a side smile. You shoved your phone right into his eyes and smiled widely. - "You're shitting me!" - He fangirled as hard as you had and performed your typical victory dance.

"Peter! Have you just cussed? We've talked about that!" - May shouted into your direction and you both freeze. Then you giggled.

"That means..." - Peter wiggled his eyebrows. Of course, you've told him about that call promise. He knew everything that happened with Steve. Not because he wanted to know, but because you rambled about Steve as much as he has rambled about Liz Toomes.

"You bet your favorite Lego puzzle!" - You hummed a tune and Peter laughed again.

"It isn't called a puzzle, to be honest..." - Peter trailed off the topic again, but you were leaving at that point, so you didn't take him too seriously.

"I don't caa-are." - You sang playfully and left the studio you rented for your choreography training, hoping you would get home as soon as possible.

---

The European job didn't go as bad as they were warned about but it didn't go exactly as smooth as Steve hope it will. He really got his hopes set high to be earlier at home. Sometimes he wanted to just take his phone off his bag, turn it on and text you that he and his friends are ok. But Natasha almost knifed him with her eyes every time that thought crossed his mind.

In the end, they were tired, really dirty, sleepy like 24/7. Even Sam, who usually tried to talk a big hole into others heads, layed in total silence. Now he was most likely dead on the back seats, covering his face with his forearm.

Of course, you were the first thing on his mind when he got to his phone - after having a long-ass sleep, a great warm shower and a bunch of unhealthy food ordered from a near China restaurant.

You texted back almost immediately, which made him smile and relax on the bed. He had a feeling that maybe you would be pretty pissed about his sudden, unexcusable need to disappear to a different continent because of a work a don't make me remind him that you still didn't even know what in the hell he's doing. But the better he got to know you, the more difficult and surreal saying his true identity to you was.

Almost unthinkable even.

Y/N: So that promise, can I still count on it?

You asked after he told you a little about his three weeks in Europe. He didn't lie but he definitely didn't tell you anything that could give you an actual image of what happened there - a lot of counterespionage from Nat, a lot of fighting and a lot of bad guy's blood spilling. He was giving you a gentle, sweet, careful silver linings to keep you safe. Those were his intentions - protecting you at all costs before knowing the truth.

Steve: Of course. I am a man of my word. Today at seven p.m.?

It was already five p.m. so two hours were remaining but he was sure it will be a terror for him. Maybe you'll just refuse to move this far behind the formal line today? He knew he's shitting himself at the moment.

Y/N: Okay. I'll be waiting, handsome.

---

Your hands literally shook as you panicked.

You needed to calm down asap. It wasn't an eye-to-eye meeting with him nor it was an actual FaceTime. It was just a fucking call which got you so off-rail. This got you even more intensely than when you were waiting for a call from some office lady whether you got that job or you did not.

It was Steve for god's sake. Not just someone. Steve. You felt like Lykke Li in one of those videos Peter showed you. She was extremely obsessing about a man, having his pictures all over her apartment, just wished he would take notice of her.

You would do the same at that point if you actually got some of his photos. You were just one hundred percent sure.

That one call was everything you could actually think about - you showered beforehand even tho he couldn't smell you through the phone just to feel pretty. You also did have a proper dinner so your liver would not do anything unplanned. You even tried some dumb yoga bullshit Marzia and Suzie thought you to calm yourself down.

You felt so, so, so stupid for overreacting that strongly but then you reminded yourself that it is mysterious, funny and gentle Steve. And you panicked again, trying to imagine his voice. Would it be high-pitched or too deep? Would it be raspy or smooth? There were too many options - too many tembers, too many speed rates, and too many articulation options.

Maybe he stutters? Which would be kinda cool you hoped. Or maybe he has a problem with saying out loud some letters? Wow, you were overwhelmed for a slight bit at that moment. But no matter ho Steves speech will be, you told to yourself, you will not give up on him because of that.

And let me say that you almost jumped off your bed when the phone rang in your hand with his name in the fucking middle of that, suddenly too small, screen. This was it. This was the moment.

You tried to breathe until the lowerest part of your lungs wasn't filled with air and then you quickly answered. That feeling of nervousness was all over your body, you felt partially numb and all you could say was that you marched around your room with your cheeks burning on fire.

“H-Hey, hey.” - You mumbled out, which was a big win-win for you. You didn't stutter that much, just maybe breathing a bit too heavily. All you could hear was a chuckle from the other side of the phone.

It almost sent you right to fainting. That was a sound of gods - you would bet your whole lego set on that. Holy goddamn shit. You jumped at the bed, feeling really quirky and cheese. You just fangirled over his chuckle. Great. You were going crazy. That was a fact. If Pete saw you acting around this clingy and cheesy, he would be laughing so hard.

“Hey.” - He answered with a chuckle under his breath, he sounded so calm and smooth, to begin with. (It wasn't the truth at all. But he was trying his actual best to appear cool in front of you.) - "Is everything alright out there? Am I interrupting you from something? I didn't mean to..." - And there he was. His usual nervousness got a hold on him eventually. That wasn't as smooth as he anticipated, but exactly make you like him more.

He was just as nervous as you were. You weren't acting like a total idiot after all.

"No. Of course, you're not... Interrupting anything. Don't be silly." - You laughed with a high, nervous tone, sounding like a boy in puberty. Well, damn. This was going so off rails so fast.

You analyzed his voice precisely. It wasn't super deep nor rough for that matter. He had actually really smooth voice which was just really nice to listen to. And he had to think you're an idiot.

"I can't believe I've done it." - Steve said all of a sudden stopping you in the middle of marching up to your bed again. One of your feet was on the mattress and the second one was still on the ground. You looked like a stretching ballerina.

"It feels so surreal, am I right?" - You chuckled, finally taking a hold of your own voice. You finally sounded like a grown woman.

"Exactly. It's... Wow. I don't know what it didn't cross my mind earlier. You could told me a lot of your stories so quicker and it would be much more fun."

"So you don't find reading my miserable life stories interesting. Okay, noted." - You teased him slightly. Steve laughed, saying a loud 'nooo!'. God, this man was just something.

"I didn't mean that at all!" - That was the first time you heard him actually giggled. He was doing it all the time because of your texts. But this was for the first time in real life you've heard it. The sight of you was messy - your eyes shone, your cheeks were rosy and your hair was not in the slightest order at all because your subconsciousness made you play with it. But you looked so happy and your smile way so relaxed.

"Why are you yelling so loud here, man?" - A completely different voice cut through the conversation. It was a bit higher than Steve's and it was way smooth with a seriously strong accent. - "Is that, oh damn." - The man laughed while you smiled at the ways Steve demanded the man leaving his room.

"I'm Sam! Nice to meet you, Steve's girl!" - He yelled before the door shut. Steve grunted out loud. That was so sweet.

"So you're telling them about me, I suppose? Was that Sam or James?" - You giggled, making Steve grunt again. Sam knew which moments to choose.

"That was Sam. I told them about you, however, the girlfriend thing is something Sam had made up." - Steve choked in defeated voice.

"Don't worry. It's fine. It made me laugh." - You calmed Steve down about Sam's behaviour. It was pretty funny and sweet for you. Sam to Steve was definitely like Pete to you. Best cheering up fangirling friend you could ask for.

"That was nice." - Steve commented at your laugh so smoothly without a single doubt in his voice.

"Thank you." - A dazzled sight came out of your lips.

---

You two talked for what seemed like forever. It was a conversation about nothing - just a constant back and forward with a lot of nervousness, thank yous and sweet voices.

Steve was dazzled by your voice. He could listen to it before sleeping, with his eyes closed. Let me, as the narrator, tell you - you were such sweet dorks. Both nervous, out of your minds basically. This one phone call actually meant something to both of you. It was your first form of actual contact, just hearing the other side and being so breathless and speechless because both of you actually existed.

The texting was fine, sure. But it didn't feel like this. It wasn't as real as this.

Nothing could tell him how you laughed when his dorky ass made you chuckle somehow. The way you spoke was so calm, relaxing him to death. Or texting couldn't reveal your voice raising up when you got excited about remembering something.

When Sam peeked into Steve's room, he stood there in silence for a moment or two. Steve was standing up in from of a window, looking down on the street, telling that Y/N something in a quiet, humming tone.

"I don't want to interrupt you." - Sam spoke quietly, freaking Steve he hell out. The tall blonde turned to Sam, covering the phone with his hand. - "But we're about to watch Footloose."

"I'll be there in a minute." - Steve nodded sadly. He didn't want this to end even if it was as dorky and cheesy as it was. But a movie night with his fellas after Europe was a thing Steve was looking forward to.

"I need to go, Y/N." - Steve started slowly and he would swear that his heart hurt at those words. - "We're about to watch something called Footloose?"

"Oh, my dear lord. You've never ever seen Footloose? Are you serious?" - You asked in an unbelieving voice. - "THE Footloose with Kevin Bacon? Steve, you really make me feel like you're not from today's world. Deena told me she hoped that her prom would look like the ending scene, but you know, Kevin Bacon never came." - You giggled.

His stomach shrank at that remark. He's not from today's world. He's the man out of time. And you have no idea, you just joked.

"I think it's exactly the one with Kevin Bacon, yeah." - Steve circled his hand around his waist, sounding nervously all of the sudden. What was he thinking about? Of course that his true identity would hunt him eventually down, even in his little personal bubble he created with you.

"Yeah..." - You sighed and shut up for a second. - "Let's call it a night today, what do you say?"

"You're right, I should go or Sam and James would start without me." - Steve tried to sound as relaxed as he could. You couldn't recognize he hides something - you've heard him for the first time. You haven't got any idea that something's off.

"Would you call me tomorrow? It's your turn." - He teased you, but you grunted a little, giving the answer away.

"I can't tomorrow, I'm at work, then we have a choreography training and we have a ladies night... I won't be at home at all. I'm sorry." - You said sadly.

"Don't be sad about that, Y/N. I'm not little. Just tell me when and I'll take some time for you, alright?" - Steve asked to make you feel better.

He slowly realized that this will be like a drug to him. Once he tasted it, he would need more and more of it to even survive. There was no turning back now. Phone calls were something new, exciting, something he wanted to do until the dawn comes. Just to feel that he haves you closer than normally.

"Hope that will be soon. Now, I'll go to sleep and you'll go and enjoy Kevin Bacon's amazing rebel-ish and dancing method acting, ok? And enjoy Footloose, like that song. It's amazing. Bye, handsome." - You said with a happy voice.

"Goodnight, Y/N. I'll text you in the morning." - Steve sighed with a soft smile on his lips, ending the call. Yeah, maybe it would be really difficult to tell you who he is and maybe you'll freak out at hell - but at that moment? He felt like a pretty attractive school girl realizing that she is falling for a nerd from her Chemistry class.

Beautifully numb and so glad he couldn't even express it.

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #captain america #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky burnes #the winter soldier #natasha romanoff #black widow #sam wilson #the falcon #fallingforyou #the1975

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daisyxbuckley · 5 years ago

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Madness Chapter 5

A/N: WOW Its been a bit since I updated this. I have been HEAVILY on my Mitch Rapp bullshit but I am getting the muse back for this. Going to post the rest of the chapters up tonight, then tomorrow you guys get book two! Also if you wanna be tagged in this story tell me!

Description: Calliope Kane never meant to get caught. But when she did she was sent to the ground to help The 100. Now that she’s here, will she survive?

Masterlist here

@cxddlyash @stiles-o-dylan24 @dylan-obrien-fanblog (Tagging yall so you can see another side of my writing lol)

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Calliope's eyes flew open as she felt herself being shaken awake. Looking around, she noticed Octavia's face with a small smile in front of her. "Cal you need to come see this." Octavia said running out of the tent.

Forgoing her pants and shoes in a hurry, Callie ran out of the tent and to the crowd that had gathered looking up at the sky. Most were in various states of undress as they were all woken up or were about to go to bed. Looking up at the night sky, the redhead saw what everyone was looking at. One single streak of light was flying down after entering the atmosphere. It was too small to be a drop ship, but it was big enough to have supplies.

"Octavia..you know what this means." Callie said smiling at the girl. "It means we need to go." The brunette said nodding back. Callie turned around to head back to her tent when she ran right into the bare chest of the last person she had wanted to see.

Steadying her arms, Bellamy looked down at Callie as she got her bearings and stared up at him. His jaw clenched when he noticed the bandage on her neck,a reminder of their ordeal that had happened hours earlier. He noticed that she was half dressed and moved to say something when he noticed her eye catch who had walked up behind him.

"Wow Bellamy, that's like what the fourth girl you've had this week? You should open a brothel." Callie said rolling her eyes and stepping back. Feeling Octavia come stand next to her, Callie crossed her arms and tried to keep a blank face.

"Everyone is ready. We should head out." She said with a determined look on her face. Bellamy shook his head as he started to go back to the tent. "No. We wait till dawn, it's too dangerous right now." Callie saw his sister move in front of him as she stopped him from heading back to his tent. "Bellamy it cleared the ridge. Anyone within a 40 mile radius saw that come down. We need to go."

"No, what we need to do is keep people alive. I said we wait till morning." He snapped back at her while he stalked off. Callie looked at Octavia and shook her head, knowing it was a lost cause. Heading back to her own tent, Callie noticed Belamy sneaking out of his tent before vanishing into the dark.

"Now what are you up to, Blake." She said quietly to herself as she headed back to her own tent. Grabbing her jeans, Callie threw them on and laced up her boots before grabbing her jacket and knives and heading out. Running into Octavia, Callie had to put her hands on the girls shoulders before she fell over.

The brunette looked Callie up and down and raised her eyebrows. "Where are you off to in a hurry Ms. Kane." Octavia said with a laugh. Looking towards the area of the words her brother vanished into Callie sighed. "Your brother left. I'm going after him." \

Callie looked at Octavia while she rubbed her eyes and groan before looking around. "God I knew he was going to pull some shit like this. I'm coming with you." Calliope shook her head and held her hand out. "No way. I need you here to make sure chaos doesn't come down on us all because of his bad choices. It will be quicker for me to catch up with him anyways." The redhead smiled down at the girl before stepping back.

"I'll bring him back. Can't promise it will be in one piece, but I'll bring him back." She said laughing as she headed off into the woods.

Bellamy was stomping through the underbrush, trying to push the thoughts of what he was going to find from his mind. He knew as soon as that ship came down that he needed to get to it before anyone else, but he also saw the look on Callie's face when he said they wouldn't go till morning. She knew it was a lie, yet did nothing to stop him.

He knew this was stupid. He should just turn around and go back to camp, what was he going to do, kill whoever was in the pod and take the radio? Bellamy shook his head while walking trying to avoid the tree branches that were hanging down. He could barely shoot Jaha let alone another person.Finally coming across the pod that had landed he ran over and opened the door. Realizing that someone was in it, Bellamy thanked whatever god was out there that they were knocked out. Cutting the wires from the radio, he chucked the device into the water and started heading back to camp.

Callie had caught up to Bellamy about two hours after leaving camp. Once she caught sight of him she stayed back a little bit because she didn't want him seeing her, though he seemed like he was in a world of his own. Realize this was the only time she was going to get to talk to him, Callie stepped out.

"Bellamy." She yelled watching him tense up and turn around. A look of worry flashed across his face as he saw her come closer and Callie wondered what the hell was going on. "What the fuck are you doing? You tell us to wait till morning then you decide to take a nightly stroll in the woods." Callie said crossing her arms at him. "You know how dangerous it is out here yet you didn't think to ask for some help?"

"Go back to camp Cal. It's not safe." Bellamy said before turning around and walking in the other direction. Callie had to stifle a laugh as she grabbed him arm making him look at her.

"You can NOT be serious right now. You lie to all of us about waiting till dawn and then you go off on your own and now you have the nerve to tell me it's not safe?" The redhead said with a shocked look on her face. "You have been lying to all of us and its time that you finally started telling the truth."

Bellamy groaned rubbing his hands over face before letting out a yell. "God Calliope why are you so fucking annoying?" He yelled at her. "You seriously can't leave things alone can you. What I'm doing is none of your damn business how about that." Bellamy said stepping closer to her.

Callie crossed her arms and shook her head. "Well it's kind of hard to mind my own business when you keep lying to me and to everyone else at camp." Callie ran a hand through her hair before her hands rested on her hips. "What did you do that you're so terrified of whatever is in that pod."

"I shot Jaha."

Bellamy spoke so low that Callie almost didn't hear him. "Excuse me? Did you just say you shot Jaha?" She said her eyes going wide. That can't be true. She had JUST talked to him before she was loaded into the drop ship. "Wait..is he dead.." She whispered to him trying to spook him. Shaking his head, Bellamy closed his eyes.

"I don't know. I just shot him and ran..it was the only way I could get on the drop ship Callie. I had to protect my sister. I couldn't let her come down here alone." He said pleading to her. Bellamy knew she knew how much he cared for his sister.

Callie's hands went to her head as she tried to steady her breathing and backed up against a tree. She honestly had no clue what she should say to his admission as she never thought that he would do something like this. She couldn't get any words out though because at that moment a familiar blonde head crashed through the bushes.

Stomping over to Bellamy, Clarke pushed him as hard as she could with a look of rage on her face. "Where is it." Bellamy gave the girl a smirk as he caught his bearings.

"Hey princess, taking a walk in the woods?"

"They are getting ready to kill 300 people up there." Clarke said her voice raising. "Your people. We need the radio to stop them."

Bellamy shook his head, the grin falling from his face. "I don't know what you're talking about." Clarke let out a scream of frustration before turning back to him. "Bellamy they are going to kill them if we don't let them know that we are down here."

"Wait Bellamy. Like Bellamy Blake?" Callie had looked away from the scene that was unfolding till she heard an unfamiliar voice. Looking back over, she noticed a short girl with long dark hair clinging to Finn. "They are looking everywhere for you." The girl said with a smirk.

"Wait why?" Clarke asked turning back to Bellamy, finally noticing Callie standing behind him. "He shot Chancellor Jaha." The black haired girl said shrugging. She caught Callie's eye for a second before turning back to Finn.

"So that's why you took the wristbands. All that whatever the hell we want shit was just so you could save your sorry ass." Finn said. Bellamy muttered something as he started walking away. Callie sighed and turned to follow him when the brunette girl streaked past her.

"Hey shooter, where's my radio." The girl yelled as Finn tried to get her attention. "Raven wait."

"Get out of my way." Bellamy muttered as he tried to go past her. Raven stood her ground though and kept going. She was stubborn, Callie had to give her that. "I should've killed you when I had the chance." He said stepping close to her.

Callie was about to speak up and say something when Raven yelled first. "Well I'm right here. Why don't you finish the job." Before anyone could react, Bellamy had Raven shoved up against tree and she had her knife pointing at him.

"You guys enough!" Callie yelled coming forward. Walking over to where Raven and Bellamy were, Callie sighed. "Bell, let her go. Now." Bellamy sighed finally letting the girl go and turning to the group.

"Jaha deserved to die. You all know that." Bellamy said. Callie could see a pleading look in his eye and felt sorry for him.

"Look, he's not my favorite person but he isn't dead." Raven said to Bellamy's shocked face. "You're a lousy shot." She said shrugging her shoulders.

Callie stepped forward and placed a hand on Bellamy's arm. "Don't you see what this means..you're not a murderer. You did what you needed to do to protect Octavia. Any of us in your position would of. But you have to tell us where the radio is so we can help."

Bellamy faced Callie and wanted so bad to just believe her, trust those beautiful green eyes and know that everything was going to be okay. But he knew it wouldn't "It's too late." He said slowly pointing towards the river.

The group looked for over an hour before Finn yelled that he found the radio. Pulling it out of the water, Clakre hurried over to Raven as she sat down and tried to see if it could work. "Do you think we can use it?" The blonde asked as Raven chewed on her lip.

"Probably but it's going to take at least a few days to dry the parts out." Raven said "Dammit." Came out of her mouth as she tried to figure out what to do next.

"300 people are going to die because of you. Are you happy now?!" Clarke yelled at Bellamy. Callie laid her hand on his arm to try and keep him calm. Before anyone could respond Raven spoke up.

"Wait, they just need to see that we are down here right?" Clarke nodded not knowing where she was going with this.

"I have an idea." Raven said smiling.

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"We have to get these flares ready to go and launched in the next few minutes or we are going to be too late." Callie said to Clarke as they watched the kids get everything loaded up to go. The bonfire they built was going high and the homemade rocket launchers were almost ready to go. Callie had to hand it to Raven, she was a smart girl. She just prayed this would work.

Standing by as the delinquents lit the flares off, Callie couldn't help but admire how pretty it looked. Feeling someone come up beside her she didn't look over. "Do you think they can see it from up there? " Bellamy asked

"I hope so..do you think you can wish on this kind of shooting start." Callie asked laughing a bit looking at Bellamy.

"I wouldn't even know what to wish for." He said throwing a smirk towards her. "What about you?" Callie just shook her head and looked back up at the sky. Her wish didn't matter anymore.

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Callie was tossing back and forth when she heard her tent flap open. Looking towards the opening she saw Bellamy with tired eyes coming in. He looked surprised that she was looking back at him. "You're awake."

Sitting up, the girl brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "Well yeah, trying to sleep when you're worried about 300 people who might die is kind of hard to do." Callie said quietly. Bellamy seemed like he was going to say something else before clearing his throat.

"Have you seen Octavia? I haven't seen her since we got back to camp." Callie's eyes showed some panic when he said the girl was missing. Getting out of bed, she quickly grabbed her pants and shoes and threw them on.

"Come on. I'll help you look for her." The redhead said putting her jacket on and moving her hair out from inside it. Bellamy looked a little shocked that she was so willing to help him. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for Octavia, so don't get any ideas." She said walking out of the tent.

When they searched the whole camp, Bellamy and Callie had to face the fact that the brunette girl wasn't there anymore. Gathering around the kids that were up, Bellamy faced everyone. "Listen up! My sister has been out there alone for 12 hours. Everyone arm up..we aren't coming back without her." Callie looked over and saw Clarke had come up beside her. Going over to the pile, Callie grabbed the axe and made sure her knives were with her. Feeling Bellamy come up beside her, Callie looked up and him and became confused at the look on his face.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked her as he put a hand on the axe she had. "I"m getting ready to go with you. Duh." She said with a small smile

Bellamy shook his head making her put the axe down. "No. Out of the question. I don't need you out there for me to worry about too." He said staring at her. Callie stood up straight and looked at him. Cocking her head to the side she stepped a little closer to him.

"Well, well, well. Is the great Bellamy Blake actually worried about me?" She asked quietly. "Better be careful Blake, people might think you have a heart." Callie stepped so close to him that her lips brushed ear. Beallmy tensed up as he felt the pressure from her hand on his arm and all of a sudden he wanted nothing more than to take her behind the drop ship and press her close to him. But he had a job to do, and he didn't want to have to worry about both Callie and Octavia.

"You're not coming with Calliope. That's final." Bellamy said harshly as Callie looked at him with a shocked look on her face.

"You should know by now that I don't take orders from anyone. Least of all you." She said backing up. Picking up the axe she started walking towards the party that was leaving. "You coming?" Bellamy sighed and grabbed his bag as they headed out. This girl was going to give him a heart attack one day.

Callie was heading out to the gate when she noticed everyone looking up at the sky in awe. Turning, her heart dropped as she saw hundreds of shooting stars streak across the blackness. "It didn't work..." She said softly as her eyes filled up with tears. Bellamy looked over at her and raised a brow at her words "A meteor shower tells you that?"

Shaking her head, Callie looked at him with a tear sliding down her face. "That's not a meteor shower. It's a funeral..hundreds of bodies being returned to the earth." She looked back up at the sky and watched it more. "This is what it looks like from the other side." Callie saw Raven march up to Bellamy shoving him as hard as she could, and he let her.

"This is all YOUR fault. If you hadn't trashed my radio they would of still been alive." Raven said yelling. She was pissed and Callie couldn't blame her. "This is your fault." The girl looked like she had been about ready to punch him when Clarke came up to her and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Raven, that's enough. He knows what he did...so he needs to live with it. But right now we NEED to get that radio working before they sacrifice anyone else. Can you do that?" Clarke was trying to distract the girl, but Raven's eyes still held hatred for Bellamy. "Raven. Can you do it?" Clarke said again her voice raising. Raven nodded as she went off towards the dropship. Callie watched her leave and knew how upset she was. The girl was upset too, but she knew that they had a job to do. Looking towards Bellamy she shook her head slightly and started heading towards the gate.

They had been walking for about 45 minutes before Callie got separated from the rest of the group. She had thought she heard something and stopped to check it out and when she looked back, everyone was gone. "Fan-fucking-tastic." She hissed to herself. This was the last thing she needed since she knew Bellamy would never let her live it down. Before she could get her bearings, Callie heard screaming and yelling. Knowing it was the group she was with, the girl started to head towards it when she was grabbed from behind.

The hand around her waist was firm and Callie found herself not able to move as another hand went around her mouth. Trying to fight against it, she found it was useless as she was drug even further away from her friends.

They had walked for about 20 minutes before Callie noticed he was leading them to a door that was hidden by the forest. When they entered, the Grounder finally set her down Callie was looking at the inside of what looked like an underground cave. Hearing a gasp and someone crashed into her, the redhead finally realized who it was.

"Octavia. What are you doing here? We have been looking everywhere for you." Callie said wrapping her arms around the younger girl. Pulling her back, Callie checked her over quickly to make sure she was in one piece and finally looked around and saw their captor. He was a tall, burley dark skinned man who watched the two girls from the corner not saying anything. The redhead quickly shoved Octavia behind her. She noticed that her weapons were left in the woods, but she didn't need them. At least she hoped she didn.t

"Callie...Cal wait. He doesn't want to hurt us." Octavia said quietly looking out from behind her. The girl looked down at the brunette with confused eyes. "Think about it...I wasn't chained up. Nor were you. He helped us." Octavia said stepping out from behind Callie and walking slowly over to the man. "Right...you don't want to hurt us?"

Callie looked around a bit and tried to come up with a game plan. "We can't stay here Octavia. We have to get back to camp.." The man shook his head trying to get her attention. Callie looked at him and watched Octavia with him. "I don't think it's safe right now Callie." She said slowly. "Right? It's not safe." The man nodded once before standing up. Heading to the door Callie saw what he was doing.

"Fine..go make sure its safe and we will wait here." Callie said slowly. Watching him go back up and out the hatch, she made her way back to Octavia. "Girl you have GOT to stop giving us heart attacks like this." She said laughing slightly. Octavia grinned and hugged the girl back hard. It was good to see someone that she knew. "Well what else am I good for?" the brunette said laughing.

Calliope slid down the side of the wall and brought her knees up to her chest. "I don't think he will be back anytime soon so we might as well get some sleep." She said patting the floor beside her. Octavia went and sat down next to her as Callie wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. Though Callie drifted in and out of sleep, she never actually fell asleep. She didn't know how much time had passed when she heard someone at the entrance of the cave.

Looking up, Callie noticed it was the man that had returned and she sighed, hoping that this meant they could go back to the camp. Before she could say anything though, someone had come up behind him and knocked him out cold.

"Bellamy." The redhead said looking at him. The brown haired boy looked a bit shocked to see her there, but his face turned to relief when he noticed that both she and his sister were okay. "How did you find us?" Callie asked him.

"Followed him." Bellamy said looking at the man that was unconscious on the ground. Octavia stood up as she walked over to her brother. "We should go before he gets up." She said as he pulled her into a hug. Letting her go, Bellamy shook his head.

"He's not going to wake up." He said going over to him. Callie knew what he was going to do and she started to cry out when Octavia got their first. "No Bellamy stop. He helped us, if he wanted to kill us he would of done it already." She said trying to stop him.

Callie walked over to the unconscious man while the siblings argued and noticed Finn over there as well. "I'm glad to see you're alive Callie. Bellamy about lost his mind looking for you." He said grinning over at her. Rolling her eyes, Callie leaned down with him to check him out. Before she could respond to him though, Callie saw the Grounders hand twitch and knew he was awake. Before she could warn Finn, the man was up and had his knife out. Finn pushed her out of the way as the knife was lodged into his chest.

"Oh my god! Finn." Callie said running over to the boy that had fallen. Hearing the commotion but focusing on Finn, Callie grabbed Jaspers hand as he reached towards the knife. "NO! We need to leave it in otherwise he could bleed out." Looking over and noticing that the Grounder was knocked back out, she locked eyes with Bellamy. "We need to get him back to Clarke NOW."

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Getting back to camp, Callie directed Jasper and Bellamy to take Finn towards the drop ship. Running in after them, Clarke was running around and Raven had tears in her eyes. "Callie wouldn't let me take the knife out." Jasper said looked at the redhead. Clarke nodded looking at Callie and they exchanged a look.

"No that was good." The blonde said looking down to assess the wound muttering to herself. Callie ran over to Raven and wrapped her arms around her. When Clarke looked up with wide eyes. "Raven, I need to talk to my mom." She said ordering some people to get supplies for her.

Raven shook her head with fear in her eyes. "There's still no radio." She said looking around the group. Callie put her hands on Raven's shoulders and made her face her. "Raven, if we want Finn to survive then you NEED to get that radio working. If anyone can do it you can." Raven had a look flash across her face before she shut it down and nodded. "Jasper, Monty come help me." She said running over to where the radio was. "Clarke, Callie make sure he stays alive."

Callie nodded heading over to Clarke before seeing Bellamy and a few other guys bringing the grounder in. The girl locked eyes with him and Bellamy shook his head before leading the grounder up to the second floor, effectively locking Octavia out. Seeing the girls face, Callie looked at Clarke to see if she could step away. The blonde nodded as Callie walked over Octavia.

As she reached her, Bellamy came back down the ladder and started heading out the door, but not before his sister was on him.

"You need to let him go. He's done nothing wrong! I don't think he was trying to hurt me. He saved me Bellamy, he saved Callie too. You're just too stubborn to see that." She said trying to get him to face her. Callie followed them outside and noticed that the rain had started falling down like a waterfall.

"That's the problem O. You DON'T think. They killed three of our people today, and if you didn't stop me from killing him then Finn wouldn't be in there dying right now." Bellamy yelled. Callie saw the look on his face and knew nothing good would come from him being this angry.

Octavia looked enraged. "STOP blaming me for YOUR mistakes. I wanted to leave, if we had then Finn wouldn't be in there dying. Everything that has gone wrong is because of you." The brunette started walking towards her brother stabbing his chest with her finger. "YOU got me locked up. YOU wanted me to go to that stupid dance and YOU got mom floated." Callie had stepped forward to pull Octavia back but the girl fell from her grasp.

"No. Mom was floated because YOU were born. She chose that. I didn't have a choice." Bellamy said lowly. "My life ended the day you were born." Callie saw the girls body go rigid when he had said that. Locking eyes with him, Octavia spun on her heel and started to walk away when Bellamy grabbed her. "Where do you think you're going?" He said as he drug her back towards the drop ship. Octavia screamed at him the entire way trying to fight him. Callie turned back towards the fence for the camp and sighed. So much was going on and she didn't have time to figure it out before Bellamy grabbed her arm and turned her around.

"Get inside the drop ship. A storm is coming."

#bellamy blake #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake imagines #bellamy blake x you #bob morley #bob morley x reader #bob morley fanfiction #the 100 fanfiction #the 100 x reader #the 100

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aivaehdaevis · 5 years ago

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The More Things Change: Ch 2

The More Things Change

by Aivaeh

Disclaimer: Familiar characters, plot elements, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it. Summary: I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert. Pairing(s): OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus Rating: M Warning(s): Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death. Master List External Links: AO3 | FF.Net | Wattpad

Chapter Two

The rest of the car ride was filled with innocuous chatter on Bonnie's end. She kept everything light, as if she feared the talk of magic and witches had summoned the crow. Most of it was gossip based. Since I knew of none of these people, I kept my responses monosyllabic when I wasn't nodding.

It wasn't far to the school from what I'd mentally dubbed as 'downtown' Mystic Falls. Less than five minutes, max. Bonnie's Prius joined a mix of cars that looked older to my eyes, but the show had started years ago. For the teens themselves, they had to be nice. I knew there was supposed to be a poorer side of town, but I wasn't seeing much evidence of it in the Mystic Falls High School parking lot.

I grabbed my bag from the backseat and met Bonnie's smile with a less than enthused one of my own. Her brows lifted. "First day of junior year."

"Yeah."

She pocketed her keys before pushing her door open. "Wonder how many committees Caroline's already signed up for."

Bonnie's droll delivery startled a laugh from me as I followed her out. Well. A soft chuckle, really. But it was genuine. "All of them?"

"Please. She's probably started a few new ones." Bonnie shook her head as she paused at the trunk and pushed it open. Her own bag appeared in her hand a moment later. She closed the trunk before slinging it over her shoulder. "And you know she's going to rope us into each and every one."

"Yep." I fell into step beside her as she continued on the topic of Caroline and her obsession with planning committees. A lot of 'remember whens' occupied her side of the conversation as we matriculated with the growing tide of students. I again smiled and nodded, but kept my sights sweeping out across the Mystic Falls High School grounds.

I noticed a lot of curious glances tossed our way, along with a few smiles and the occasional wave that Bonnie—and belatedly me—returned.

Right. Elena had been that girl before her parent's were killed and she descended into vampire drama. My hand tightened on my bag's strap. I was not that girl. I was a girl. I blended. The prototypical wallflower. Which I liked.

Before I knew it, my eyes were sketching the seams between the sidewalk, Elena's long hair sliding past my shoulders and hiding my—her—face. I tried to remind myself to keep my head up. That would be more in character. But whenever I'd catch another person looking, and then turn to talk—ugh. Sidewalk it was.

Bonnie didn't seem to notice. Or, more like, care. She carried on the conversation as if she kept up one-sided chats with her quiet friend all the time. It was probably a more recent development, though. What had Elena been writing about at the start of the series? Convincing everyone she was fine? Which meant she hadn't been doing a good job of it prior to the start of the series.

I wondered how often Bonnie had to shoulder the bulk of their friendship since Elena's accident. Hell, going by how often she'd done it on the show, way too much.

The impromptu consideration of Bonnie and Elena's friendship, and how one-sided it had seemed, occupied me all the way into the main building. It wasn't until my feet struck tile instead of concrete, and I caught a heavy glass and metal door before it could hit my face, that I zoned back into my surroundings.

From the loud cacophony of teenage voices, the banging of lockers, the squeak of sneakers on linoleum—it felt like being thrust back in time. I kept close to Bonnie as the river of students parted around her. And me, I suppose. "Where—"

"Gym." Her brows canted. "For our schedules?"

"Oh." I fixed my sights ahead. "Right. Like last year."

"Mhm. So, Ashley was driving Caroline insane. Like, she just could not get the landing. Care being Care starts to think that, maybe, she's doing it on purpose. To sabotage her chance at getting captain, you know? Which is crazy talk. Which I told her."

The trials and travails of Caroline and Bonnie at Cheerleading camp continued all the way down an absurdly long hall. We weren't the only ones. Seemed like the whole school was headed in the same direction.

Eventually we all flowed into what could only have been the prototypical high school gymnasium. Big open room with a tall ceiling and a basketball court painted onto the floor. The bleachers were folded up, pressed against the wall into a giant wooden jigsaw puzzle. Several tables had been set up under one of the basketball hoops, each seating a couple of staff members. Long paper signs were taped behind them, each one proclaiming a year and a part of the alphabet. Lines of students were stretched out in front of them.

I looked for year eleven and almost hunted for S before remembering it was supposed to be G. Unfortunately, this was where Bonnie and I would have to part. The G's were mixed in with the F's.

"Meet you at the doors?" Bonnie offered as we both wandered towards our respective tables.

"Okay." She could probably hear the relief in my voice.

We parted at the lines and I stepped up behind a tall red headed boy dressed in a polo shirt and khakis.

I fiddled with my bag strap, waiting for the line to move, when there was a slight commotion further up the line. A blonde head of hair appeared around the side, and a familiar face from my television screen lit up. "Elena! Hey!"

Holy shit. Caroline.

I couldn't help but smile back, the blonde's enthusiastic grin was so infectious. "Hi," I called, though not very loud and immediately glancing to the side to see if anyone noticed.

Of course they had. Caroline wasn't head of the cheerleading squad for nothing.

A flick of her head sent her immaculate blonde curls over a shoulder before she waved me towards her. "What are you doing?" she laughed. "Come here!"

Another glance around me revealed considerably colder looks than before. I swallowed before aiming a far thinner, close-lipped smile back. "Don't want to cut in line."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "No one cares." She aimed the most potent Bitch Look I'd ever seen at the girl behind her. "Do you care if my friend stands next to me?"

The girl, skinny and pale with a bad case of acne—which gave me an instant connection of deep empathy with her—startled. She quickly shook her head. "No."

"See?" Caroline returned, dismissing her existence. She motioned for me to join her again. "Get over here, Elena!" That tone would brook no argument.

I glanced around me, uncertain, before sidling out of place and nervously moving up. I was careful not to look at the faces of the students I passed.

Caroline pulled me into a hug the moment I was within arm's reach. "Oh my god!" she squealed. "I can't believe it. Feels like forever!" She pushed me back before I could do anything but be shifted about like a rag doll. "How are you doing? You okay?"

There was something kind of… performative about the sympathy. Then I remembered that season one Caroline was still a slave to her insecurities. The most major of which being Elena Gilbert. Great. "I'm fine."

She gave me a pursed lip look of disbelief. "Really?"

I drew in a breath and adjusted the strap of my bag, which was now threatening to fall down my arm from all the jostling. "Yep."

She gifted me another big, bright, beauty queen smile. "Great!" Her voice went slightly lower—though that wasn't saying much. "Have you seen Matt yet?"

"No."

"Wait till you do. He's so obviously pining."

Okay. Not sure what to say to that, I nodded.

"I hear he's been like that all summer."

More gossip. Great. "Oh."

"Yep." Caroline seemed disappointed I wasn't more into this tidbit of information. But, never one to admit defeat, she rebounded with another smile. It looked forced. "We missed you at cheer camp."

"Bonnie was just telling me about it."

Caroline's smile wavered. "She was?" She blinked. "What about it?"

Crap. I searched through the dazed haze that covered my mind throughout the fog of madness that had been the entirety of my day so far. "Ashley? Sabotaging you?"

Caroline's eyes narrowed to slits, her arms crossed, and she leaned into her hip. "Either that, or she's completely incompetent. I have no idea how she got on the squad in the first place." She glanced off to the side in thought. "Maybe it was a pity thing."

"Pity thing?"

"Yeah. Because of the divorce." Her voice screamed, 'duh.' She scoffed. "As if that's so special. My mom and dad divorced. You don't see me fumbling every landing." A frightening sort of intensity lit up her face. "I actually practice so I don't look like an idiot."

"Practice is good," seemed like something neutral to respond with.

"Which is why I'm concerned about you, Elena," Caroline's transformation from wrathful bitch to anxious friend happened so quick, I got whiplash. "You missed so much." She gave another doleful put. "I'm worried."

Yeah. She ought to be. Running was one thing, and I enjoyed cardio. Jumping and spinning and being all 'Rah Rah!' though? Nope. Not happening. But didn't Elena quit cheerleading? In fact, wasn't this conversation supposed to happen with Damon around? And didn't Elena meet Caroline back at school for the first time at the lockers?

While the questions settled uncomfortably in the back of my mind, the student in front of Caroline finished. "We'll talk more later," Caroline promised. At my nod, she gave a final smile and turned around, striding up to the table with more confidence then I think I've ever experienced in the entirety of my life.

I mulled over the differences between what I remembered and what had just happened until Caroline finished receiving her schedule. She gave a rippling finger wave to me as she strode off to the doors. I smiled back. Already my cheeks were starting to smart from all the faux grins I was pulling this morning.

Stepping up to the table, I discovered all I had to do was give Elena's name and they were rifling through a stack of papers. I had my hands on her class list and a padlock for a locker before I could give much thought to the change I'd already wrought. So I'd run into Caroline early and had a minor conversation about cheerleading? What did it matter?

I returned to the doors and leaned against the wall as I waited for Bonnie to get her schedule. By the time she joined me, another ten minutes had gone by. Apparently our first period class wasn't going to do much in the way of work. Which was good, since it was Trig.

Nothing like math first thing in the morning.

On the positive side of things, Bonnie was in the same class. As we compared schedules, we walked side by side through the halls and searched for our lockers. Bonnie spotted hers first and dropped off her bag. Mine was next, not that far from Bonnie's, but I chose to keep my bag with me. Call me weird, but I liked having something capable of carrying all my crap around with me.

Task complete, we were on our way to our first class when Bonnie grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop beside her. "Hold up. Who's this?"

Bonnie stared down the hall through a set of open doors into what looked like some administrative room. I doubted she meant the woman seated behind the desk, flipping through a folder of papers. More like the tall guy in the leather jacket standing in front of it. Broad shouldered. Wide stance. Brown hair. Sunglasses…

I squeezed the strap at my shoulder, hard enough that the stiff leather bent with a creak. "No idea," I lied.

"Too bad." Bonnie's ran an appraising eye from top to bottom. "He's hot."

And with his enhanced senses, he'd heard that. Uncomfortable, I watched as Stefan took off his sunglasses. The shades dangled from his fingers as he stared down into the administrator's eyes. Still as stone, she stared back several seconds before starting to move again.

Compulsion. He'd compelled her. Mind control was an actual thing that happens here. That man was an actual vampire. And not just any vampire, but a Ripper. The hair on my arms rose.

Oblivious, Bonnie added, "I'm sensing Seattle, and he plays the guitar."

She mustn't be witchy enough yet to pick up on his—aura, I suppose. If I remembered right, she'd have to touch Stefan before she felt anything off. "Not really into the grunge thing, myself," I muttered. And while vampires were fun to read and watch on the screen, standing a few feet away from one... Well. Ironically, my heart was starting to pound.

Bonnie grinned. "You're doubting me."

"Never." I mustered a wan smile.

"Jeremy, good batch, man."

The off-hand remark from a voice behind us that I didn't recognize, shouting a line that I sort of did, drew my attention. Searching over my shoulder, I found Jeremy. Apparently, he hadn't lied about the ride. He grinned somewhere into the crowd before ducking into the boy's bathroom. Frowning, I turned back around.

Right. Elena had followed her brother into the bathroom and chastised him. Tried to talk sense into him. It didn't work, because of course it wouldn't. But it was as she'd left the bathroom that she'd run straight into Stefan for the first time. Spoke to him.

Alone.

Yeah. No. That wasn't going to happen.

Bonnie was still studying Stefan's back. "Please be hot."

I shifted my bag further up my shoulder before glancing around at the other students still walking the hall. "Shouldn't we get to class?"

"In a sec."

Standing in front of a random doorway, staring at Stefan, waiting for him to turn around? Not weird at all. But I could hardly leave Bonnie. Not to mention I didn't know the way. So there I stood, awkward as hell, as the rest of the students streamed around us like we were rocks slicing apart the currents of some rushing river. "Isn't this kind of creepy?"

"Shh."

I pressed my lips together with a single, short nod. Right then. Creeping on the new guy it was.

Fortunately, it wasn't too much longer before he finished and turned around. He had his head tilted down, hooking his sunglasses to his collar. Of course, Bonnie had already started drawing in a startled breath. Even though I knew what he'd look like, that he was basically a supernatural predator, I was tempted to join her. He raised his head, putting the chiseled splendor of his face on display for all to see. Stefan Salvatore was a sigh-worthy sight to behold in person. Especially when those brooding eyes landed on me, widening slightly as his thick but perfectly groomed brows lifted.

His stare stayed pointed at me—or Elena—as he strode by. Going so far as to turn his head slightly as he passed us to keep me in his sights. I caught a hint of expensive cologne as Stefan came near enough that our sleeves almost brushed. The surreality of the moment almost sent me floating off into some mini version of astral projection. But all my nerves had woke up at his passing, anchoring me to my borrowed body as it tingled all the way to my toes. I did manage not to spin completely around, like Bonnie did, as he moved further down the hall. It was a near thing.

"Oh. My. God." Bonnie rounded back. "Worth it."

I swallowed. Why couldn't he look like a monster? "Class?"

She snapped her sights to me and stared as if I were crazy. "Your dedication to academics over ridiculously cute boys is inspiring, Elena." She shook her head. "But also? Kind of sad."

"Yeah." I shrugged, adjusting my bag's strap again. "So?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes but smiled. "If we must." Her arm threaded through mine and she tugged me back into the flow of students. "Let's go."

My mind stayed stuck on Stefan Salvatore as I followed Bonnie to the classroom, and well into the start. So did Bonnie's, if her sighs and constant wondering about the 'new hottie' was anything to go by. Unlike Bonnie, I wasn't just musing over his insanely good looks. Not entirely. I was only human, and holy shit Stefan was a beautiful monster. But he was a monster. He wasn't an early Damon, Katherine, or Klaus, but he wasn't innocent, either. There was as wall with a list of names in Chicago. Not to mention the asshole he became after Klaus got his claws into his head.

And I was stuck in the body of the girl who looked exactly like the woman who'd turned him. Worse, the Amara to his Silas. Fan-freaking-tastic.

I tried to put my mind off it. I felt pretty de-whammied by the time our introduction to Trig was over.

So of course, there he was in my next class. English.

I scurried in because it'd taken forever for me to find without Bonnie backup. He was already seated near the back—next to a very pleased Caroline. He watched me hurry towards the only vacant seat left at the very front. To be fair, everyone watched me rush in and interrupt the teacher.

I swallowed as I sat down, kept my eyes staring straight ahead at the chalkboard.

I could hear him, though. Well, I heard Caroline mostly. Hard not to. Occasionally there would be that mellow voice answering. God, how did a person sound gorgeous? It wasn't fair. Serial killer wall. Eater of bunnies. Ripper of people.

Of course, reminding myself of all his gruesome deeds wasn't exactly helping me to keep calm, either. I was a mess however I chose to look at it. Either I was another girl drooling over his stupid perfectness, or I was terrified he was going to snap and eat the whole class—though that last was foolish of me. I knew he wasn't that bad. At least, he wasn't on the show. He wouldn't be now. 'Course not.

Maybe if there had been anything interesting going on in the class I would've had an easier time keeping my mind off the vampire seated in the back. But all that happened was a lecture on the syllabus and class expectations and blah blah. The most exciting thing was when the books were passed out. I'd always enjoyed any subject having to do with reading, in high school or college. But the problem with high school lit classes is the list doesn't change. A glance and I knew I'd be re-reading a lot of 'classics,' only a few of which I liked.

Great. Stuck in this world, and with a boring stack of books to boot.

I raced out of class as soon as it was over, letting Caroline manipulate all of Stefan's attention. Also, I didn't want a repeat of being the last one in again. This time I stopped someone in the hall and asked where my next class was. After dropping my books off at my locker, which was on the way, I managed to make it to Biology with minutes to spare.

Unfortunately it was a class I shared with Tyler Lockwood.

He was never a favorite of mine on the show. From my first impression in real life, he was even more of a jerk. The entire time he talked and laughed, even blew spitballs at one of his teammates. The poor teacher didn't do anything but smile and nervously laugh along. Being a star football player and the son of the Mayor, I guess no one besides vampire hunter Ric Saltzman was interested in disciplining the kid.

I was thoroughly annoyed by the end of the class and could tell it was going to be a regular occurrence if this weird—situation—didn't end anytime soon. On the plus side, I wasn't alternatively daydreaming and fretting over Stefan Salvatore while I was fuming about Tyler Lockwood.

It wasn't until fourth period that I met up with Bonnie again in History.

I was so relieved to be sitting beside her, listening to how her classes had gone so far, that I didn't pay much attention as the other kids trickled in and sat down.

Not even when a somewhat familiar voice said, "Hey, Elena."

Bonnie's eyes widened, chin jerking towards the space behind me. Blinking, I remembered Elena was now me and swung about. Matt Donavan hovered near my desk, a strained smile on his face. "Matt. Hi."

"Been a while." He spun a pencil around his fingers. "How was your summer?"

Seeing as he thought he was talking to Elena, I had no idea. Bad, if I had to guess. Given her parents had just died. Still, I summoned another smile. It was getting easier. Ironically, it seemed I was as stuck playing the 'I'm just fine and dandy,' game as she'd been on the show. "Fine. Yours?"

"Alright." He shrugged and glanced down before lifting his sights back up to me. He obviously had something on his mind. I waited. "You still on for the Grill tonight?" When my brows scrunched together, he was quick to add, "Y'know. Everyone's usual meetup after the first day back."

"Yeah. 'Course. Wouldn't want to mess with tradition." That'd draw attention. Something I was trying very hard not to do.

His smile turned more genuine. "Cool." He cleared his throat and nodded. I nodded back, smile growing strained as I held it for a longer beat than the usual. He seemed to decide to just leave then, moving back to sit behind Bonnie. The two shared their own hellos.

Drama. I blew out a breath, slipping further down the hard back of my chair, wondering if the day could possibly get more awkward. The universe chose to answer by having Stefan Salvatore stride into the class at that moment. Naturally, like the earth pulled by the inevitable gravitation of the freaking sun, his gaze flew right to me.

I straightened back up, trying to smooth away any traces of annoyance. Just like the hallway, his stare stayed rooted to mine. I had no idea how he managed to find an empty desk, given he kept staring at me rather than looking for a place to sit. Maybe some sort of vampire sense, like listening for heartbeats or pulsating necks.

I hardly had room to judge. Even after the class started, I watched him too. I did try to keep it to don't-mind-me-just-bored-and-gazing-around-the-room peeks. Hard to do, given his gaze was constantly directed my way. But I couldn't help but look for some sign of—inhumanness. Apart from being a shade or two paler from the rest of the class, nothing stood out.

No, that wasn't true. He stood out, alright. But as far as creepy vibes? Nothing. If one could manage the herculean task of setting aside his amazing looks, he seemed normal. Apart from constantly staring at me, anyway. That was definitely off. Or, rather, the real me. I suppose someone as gorgeous as Elena wouldn't be surprised by the attention. Not that I'd never been on the receiving end myself, but not by anyone who looked like a freaking model.

Just to hammer in the point of how obvious he was being, my phone vibrated. Checking that the teacher wasn't watching, I flipped the older style case open to find a text message from Bonnie.

HAWT-E STARING U

Yeah, thanks. I'd have to be blind not to notice. Or focused on the lesson. Which, for once in an academic setting, I wasn't. Right now, I couldn't give a damn about history. Another first.

Thankfully, the class was the same welcome back here's your syllabus do your homework etcetera that the rest had been. Bonnie caught up to me after the bell signaled the end of our torture. She shared a look of girlish conspiracy as we walked out ahead of Stefan. "The whole time," she said quietly.

"Noticed."

Bonnie grinned. "Lucky."

The insane urge to burst into tearful laughter swept through me. I held it back with a non-committal hum. "Lunch?"

"Lunch."

The rest of the day was Stefan free. I don't know where he went to eat. The woods that seemed to creep around every few blocks in this town? Caroline joined Bonnie and I at the table. A few other girls, Madison and Sarah, along with a guy named Aaron, sat with us too. Which surprised me. But when I thought about it, it made sense. Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline could hardly have only each other as friends. They were just the closest and what the show must've chosen to focus on.

I couldn't get much of an impression of the other three. I gathered the girls were cheerleaders and Aaron was on the team with the other guys. I did pick up that he and Madison were a thing, which explained why he was sitting with us rather than over with Tyler's wolf pack.

Either way, I was able to sit back and let the rest of the table control the conversation. They seemed fine letting me stay quiet, joking back and forth and listening to Caroline's plans for the upcoming festival. Which I was roped into—flyer duty. I didn't fight. Some fates are simply inevitable.

The rest of my classes were a rotation of the various other characters, but no Stefan. By the time the end of the school day had crept around, I was left loading my books into my bag, a light load of assigned reading to do for tomorrow but not a lot else.

Bonnie was back, leaning up against the neighboring locker. "Sorry I can't give you a ride to the cemetery."

I paused. What? Why the hell would I—

Oh, right. Grieving girl. "It's fine." Well, hell. No way was I going to the cemetery. I could find my way back to Elena's house. Sure.

I struggled to remember where all the turns Bonnie had taken were. Main street, as I'd come to think of it as, would be easy enough to get to. I could find my way from there. Probably.

I hoped I didn't look as freaked out as I felt as I smiled at Bonnie. This must've been one of those things the two girls had arranged before. "Thanks for taking me this morning."

Bonnie gave me a look that said, 'don't even,' "'Course." She gave me a one-armed hug before straightening back up. "Say hi to your mom and dad for me."

"I will." Nope. Not going to happen because you couldn't pay me to go to a cemetery with vampires lurking around every corner. Mostly because that's where Elena first 'encounters' Damon. And runs into Stefan. While bleeding.

Yeah. No. Nope.

Bonnie and I separated with waves and promises to meet up later tonight at the Grill. I was curious where she was off to but didn't know a way to ask without making it clear I didn't already know. I had a feeling it was one of those things Elena shouldn't need to ask.

Instead, I hitched my bag up and set off for the 'main street' of Mystic Falls. If I could get to the corner where Damon had scared the crap out of us, I figured I could find my way back. After all, I knew where he and Stefan were going to be. Exactly where I wasn't.

No freaky fog or bloody knees for this girl!

Fortunately, it was a nice day out, and Mystic Falls was a beautiful town—when it wasn't being overrun with supernatural creatures. There was a ton of greenery around, even in the paved business district. Granted, it was mostly maintained greenery, but it was still lovely. Especially with the woods never further than a stone's throw away.

I found the main road easily enough. Learned it was Washington Street. Following it, I found it led right to City Hall and the infamous clock tower. The park that had been featured on quite a few early episodes was only a few blocks down. And then, there was the Grill. Its green banner flapped in the afternoon breeze. I stood for a few moments to just—soak in the wonder. I'd actually be visiting later tonight.

Of course, since I wasn't going to the cemetery, that meant I wouldn't lose Elena's journal. Stefan wouldn't have a reason to stop by. Which means he wouldn't know about the gathering and have no reason to go. That was good.

It was.

Frustrated that I didn't feel like it was entirely good, I huffed at myself and sped up, no longer so enamored with the kitschy little town. But the longer I walked, the more I wondered if I'd missed the turn Bonnie had taken.

By the time the shops were behind me with houses sprouting up to either side of the street and the ever-present woods on the horizon, I wondered if I should just go back. Visit one of the stores and ask for directions. Wasn't everybody supposed to know everybody in a town like this? 'Course, if anyone should know the way to the Gilbert's house, it would probably be someone who'd lived there her whole life. Be odd to ask. Wasn't sure if I wanted rumors of Elena spacing out or acting weird getting around.

Blowing out an annoyed breath, I pulled the phone from my pocket. A vague notion that I might find someone to give me a ride. With the occasional glance up to make sure I didn't stray off the sidewalk, I navigated my way to the contact list. Most of the names were unfamiliar. Bonnie's was the first I recognized, but obviously couldn't call. I had nearly made it through the 'E's, wondering how on earth this girl had so many numbers—just my luck to Quantum Leap into an extroverted popular cheerleader—when a, "CAW!" startled me.

I spun around, sights sweeping around the street. Perched on a nearby streetlamp was the crow from this morning. Or so I assumed. I suppose it could've been an entirely different crow but—c'mon. What were the chances? It cocked its head at me, beady eye gleaming, before it cawed again.

My heart sped up, gut clenching in dismay. Damon. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be waiting at the cemetery! I know I remembered that part of the pilot. I looked around, wondering if I'd wandered near the graveyard by accident, but there wasn't a headstone anywhere nearby. Another insistent, "CAW!" demanded my attention. Giving in, I found the damn bird watching me.

Damon—if it was Damon, and I had no reason to believe it wasn't—had to be stalking me. Elena. Whoever.

And Stefan was probably lingering around the cemetery, right where he was supposed to be.

I swallowed. Like Stefan, Damon was the real-world equivalent of a serial killer. Unlike Stefan, at the start of the series, he didn't give a damn if Elena lived or died. Nor did he share Stefan's diet that only threatened small woodland creatures. Damon reveled in his violent nature, gave in to his murderous whims. A temperamental thrill seeker who had no fear of getting caught.

I turned, noticed how thin the traffic was. I'd managed to get far enough from the business district that I'd past the last of the shops a block back. Another, "CAW!" made me jump. I drew in a breath, lips falling into a frown, before I doubled back for the shopping center behind me.

He wouldn't attack me in broad daylight, in front of a store full of people. Right?

I hurried down the sidewalk, the crow's relentless caws chasing me the whole way. It felt as if I could feel someone's stare crawling over my skin. My heart rate skyrocketed and my blood pounded in my ears. It had to make for a siren song to the vampire watching me.

A loud flutter of wings beside me had me looking down towards a bench anchored to the sidewalk. The crow had perched on an armrest and cawed up at me. I turned away, fixing my gaze back to the approaching stores.

I sped up to a near sprint and rushed into the first shop I saw.

Once I was safely past the door, I spun to peer back through it's glass display. Heart still hammering, I pressed my hand to my chest, willing it to slow down as I searched for the bird stalking me. And fuck my life for making that a thing I had to worry about now. Finding nothing outside, I gulped down a breath and stepped back around.

Hands grabbed my arms. I gasped as I found myself staring up into pale blue eyes, freezing me in place. The corners of those eyes crinkled as Damon Salvatore grinned down at me. "Whoa." He let go, holding his hands up with palms out as if to prove he was harmless. I knew better and stepped back.

How? I'd just been at the door! I'd been staring through its damn window!

I risked taking my eyes off his long enough for my gaze to dart around the rest of the store. Antiques. Lots of places to hide but... No, there. Another door at the back of the shop, drifting shut.

It had to be over a hundred feet away!

I refused to believe that it was possible anyone could move so fast. Weirdly, it was easier to accept the man could control a bird than flash across the store in the blink of an eye.

My sights snapped back on him, watching every move he made. As if I'd ever get enough warning. Futile or not, I couldn't help it. It was if some primal instinct was in control. And right now, it was screaming danger!

His head tilted, eerily reminiscent of the bird he'd been puppeting. His bangs were long—and messy—enough that a bit fell over his eye. His handsome face fixed into a mien of nonchalance that didn't quite quench the excited sparkle in eyes. Like sunlight reflecting of a frozen lake, it was almost blinding staring directly into them. All of him was as picture perfect as a winter landscape, and yet, as remote. Cold and barren.

The sensation of wrongness I'd sought earlier in Stefan I found in Damon. In spades. I felt it right in my gut, where it squirmed like a tangled ball of worms. Made me itch to find an exit. Get away. Even as he asked, "You okay?"

I wasn't alone. The shop keeper, an older man, stood behind the counter. Unaware of the danger, he sent me a polite smile before turning back to the computer sitting beside the register. The rest of the place was a claustrophobic nightmare. Display tables packed narrowly together, covered in every kind of knick-knack imaginable. It'd be a mess to try and run through. Despair threatened to squeeze the air from my lungs. He was the only other human in the place. That wasn't going to stop a vampire who could compel him to forget. Or kill us both before we even knew what was happening.

Heart thumping so hard I was surprised my ribs weren't rattling, I summoned the steadiest smile I was able to and nodded. "Yeah. Just," a drew a breath through my nose, "startled. Should have been paying attention." Like that would've helped.

The bastard's mouth curled into a playful smile. "Sorry." He didn't sound it. At all. His tall legs brought him a step closer. Fully in the center of his attention, I couldn't help feel like a mouse under the bobbing head of a snake. "You ran in here so fast, I thought you were in trouble."

I squeezed the strap on my book bag, holding the smile on my face before shaking my head. "No." I lied. "It's—I'm fine. Really."

Damon leaned to the side, pleasure slipping into those animated eyes. Too animated. Like he was exaggerating his expressions. "That's a relief." He smiled as he took another step, putting him within arm's reach. "Pretty little thing like you," the curve of his lips turned thin and wicked before he added, "I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something…bad…happened."

Knowing what I did about him, I couldn't help but hear an implied threat. The corners of my already brittle smile tried to slide right down. I willed them to stay up, though it probably came off as a tad bit rictus.

He didn't seem to notice. Or, more likely, care. "I'm Damon, by the way." He held out a hand.

I didn't want to take it. Would it set him off if I didn't? Make him suspicious that I knew more than I should about him? But the moment was stretching towards too long. My mind gave off an inner scream I slipped my hand into his. He had to have noticed my palm was clammy as it met his. He didn't seem bothered by it. On the contrary, his eyes darkened.

Bothered by the implications, I focused on the softness of his skin. I'd expected him to be colder. Stiff like my grandmother's hand had been when I'd tried curling mine over it as I'd stood by her coffin. Damon's felt very alive. The muscles and bones all shifted as he gave a gentle squeeze, the borrowed blood in his veins warming his skin. "Elena."

"Elena. Hm." His eyes narrowed. "Sure you're okay, Elena?"

"Yeah." I made to pull my hand back, relieved when he didn't try to hold on. "I, um. I saw a bird." His brows flew up. I inwardly cursed him to hell. Since magic existed here, I hoped it'd work. Recalling a line from the show, I said, "It was very Hitchcock."

"A girl who can make a classic horror reference. Nice." Seeing how well known The Birds and Hitchcock were, I didn't think it was all that impressive. I couldn't decide if he was trying to flatter me, or if his opinion of teenagers—of humans in general—was that low. "If you're worried, I'd be happy to walk you home." He leaned closer, and it took everything in me not to draw away. His voice lowered as if he meant to share a secret. "I make a great scarecrow."

Oh hell no. "That's... really nice of you to offer." My bag's strap let out a tortured creak as my hand flew to it and squeezed. "But, I'm—waiting. For my aunt. She's picking me up soon."

"Mm." His smile stretched a little wider before he looked straight into my eyes and said, "But she's running late, isn't she? It'll be a while before she gets here."

I blinked, glancing around towards the window as I realized, "Jenna's probably running late, though. I don't know when she'll get here." Especially as she had no idea where I was. Or that I'd need her to pick me up.

Damon smiled. Soon as our eyes met, he was speaking again with that same intense stare, "You want me to walk you home."

Given all the dangerous things lurking around Mystic Falls, who better to keep away the monsters than a psycho vampire that had already killed several people since coming to town? "I want you to walk me home." Wait, that didn't seem right. After a moment, I added, "If you don't mind." There. Shouldn't assume things. That would be rude.

Damon's answering grin was all sunshine. Cold, wintry sunshine. "Of course not." He swept out an arm in an old fashioned, gentlemanly gesture. "After you, Miss Gilbert."

Had I told him that? No. Damon must've been stalking Elena well before this morning. He'd know where she lived, then! I smiled at him before leading him through the door.

#fanfic #the vampire diaries #tvd #damon salvatore #stefan salvatore #the more things change #ofc #damon x ofc #stefan x ofc #elijah x ofc #klaus x ofc #elijah mikaelson #klaus #bonnie bennett #caroline forbes #elena gilbert #jeremy gilbert

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