#particularly the last gif and all those twinkling ice

[empty-dream]

Our paths will mingle, even if it's forced.

Boku no Hero Academia S7 episode 08. Two Flashfires

[pumpkin-stars]

Forbearance

William Tell/AFAB!Reader. Smut. no pronouns, no y/n.

He plays poker with a skill you’ve never seen before, patient and careful and calculating. He plays your body the same, and teases you to distraction - like how a bad hand can be a bluff, or a tapping finger can be a tell. He’s an ass, but he’s yours. AKA he fucks you to celebrate a win, but is a dick about it (affectionately).

Warnings/Content: unprotected sex, established relationship, the author knows nothing about poker, teasing, fingering, cockwarming, a hint of choking, lots of kissing and smirking, p-in-v sex, comparing the reader to a hand of cards but sexily, use of dialogue from the trailer, slight hint of sugar daddy vibes if you wanna read it that way.

Word Count: 2.8k (after a three minute trailer? don’t ask me how)

💕 thanks @fisforfulcrum and @the-little-ewok for helping me come up with a title /💕/ i’ve tagged people who expressed interest as well as those on my taglist - hope you don’t mind 💕

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The room is dark and quiet - shuffling cards, clearing throats, ice clinking against glasses. The low yellow lighting illuminates the smooth green surface of the table and shines on the features of the game’s participants.

It almost makes you wish you were here with someone else. The older man across the table, perhaps. Not because he’s doing particularly well, far from it in fact, but because standing over there would gift you the perfect view of your actual companion.

The way the light hits other’s faces tells you that it surely accentuates his features… The curve of his shaven jaw, the prominent nose and oh-so-kissable lips. The way shadows form around his dark eyes from the sharp lines of his brow, making their ever-present twinkle shine all the brighter.

What you can see is how the light bounces off his Rolex as his fingers dance over the large collection of chips stacked in front of him, debating his next move as he keeps his cards hidden from everyone - including you. His eyes dart around the room, always. Always counting, observing, never guessing or taking chances, every sequence and possibility carefully calculated like a giant computer lives in his brain, his features carefully schooled, giving nothing away.

“All in.” He decides once it’s his turn, pushing the chips forward before he leans back in his chair, tilting his head back to rest against your torso. His eyes stay on the table, but he allows himself a little smile as your hand rests on his shoulder. You wait eagerly, for that moment of victory, staring at the soft curls that litter his scalp, streaks of grey outnumbering the black now, but no less alluring than he’s ever been. Your hand strokes over his jacket, fingers trailing over his shirt collar, running over the skin of his neck, catching the thin chain he always wears for a moment before you let it go, and return to his shoulder.

His smile widens as the cards are turned, each exactly where he had anticipated, until it’s his turn to reveal his hand. Judging by the groans the other men make, you’re pretty sure you’ve won - not that there’s any real doubt in your mind when William sits at the table.

“Thank you, Gentlemen,” He nods to them, “I’m afraid my friend and I need to be up early, so, if you’ll excuse us.”

“You cleaned me out!” One protests.

“Not my problem.”

“At least let me try to win it back-?”

“You’ve been trying to hold onto what you have for the last four rounds,” he winces, “Today’s not your day.”

William sweeps his chips into the bag waiting by his feet, then offers you his arm to escort you out, the two of you ignoring any further protests.

-/-/-

He drives you to his place, a hand squeezing your thigh the whole ride. It’s a modest apartment, considering his line of “work”, and he holds the door for you, ever the gentleman. The bag of chips rattles as he sets it on the hall table then stalks over to you, tongue peeking out to wet his lips on his way.

“You get a little restless at the end, sweetheart?” He smirks. “Bored of me winning you enough money to buy you all the beautiful things you want?”

“No Billy,” you smile, “But watching you win every time gets a little… predictable.”

“Well, that’s how things are on the table, aren’t they?” he crowds you, grabbing you by the hips and leading you until your back hits the wall, “I like things predictable. Poker is all about waiting, sweetheart, it’s not my fault you can’t be patient ‘til I’m done.”

“It’s knowing you’re almost done that makes me restless,” you smile, “I have patience, up until the last minutes.”

“Oh I know, sweetheart,” he grins, “you’ve proved it time and again.”

He leans in, nudging your nose with his own as his mouth hovers above yours, content to wait. You’re loathe to prove him right, but having him this close is too much to resist, and you tilt your head to kiss him.

He gives in to you, letting his tongue slip into your mouth as his head tilts to the right, a relaxed movement that keeps you exactly where he wants you. It’s always overwhelming, being kissed by William Tell. He’s able to move you, control every aspect of the kiss with ease, and you’re always aware that he’s watching and observing you despite his eyes being closed. Ten years in prison will do that to a person - make them aware of all things at all times - though your Billy applies it differently in situations like this.

He crowds you, hands skimming up your sides as he kisses with more force, leaving you no choice but to hang onto him, to give into him as he plays you as well as he plays his cards. It’s forceful, but it’s slow. He’s in no rush to move from this position, patient enough to kiss you like this for hours, licking into your mouth with the same easy motions as he throws chips into the pot.

But it’s not enough for you, not after watching him all night, after waiting all night. As soon as your hands move into his hair he pulls back.

“Billy-“

“Patience,” he smirks, “You gotta wait for me, sweetheart.”

You pout, and he pecks your lips - just a quick one that makes you smile.

“Congratulations on another victory, William.” You whisper.

“It’s all about the wait,” he shrugs, “The anticipation. The right moment.”

“I know.” You nod, and he squeezes you gently.

“Go wait for me on the bed, huh? I gotta stow the chips.”

“Okay,” you smile, kissing his cheek as you move around him, “Don’t be too long, you know I can’t wait.”

“Not even for my cock?” He raises a solitary brow.

You grin, “I could make an exception.”

-/-/-

He leaves you waiting a while. You should’ve known he would, even if he wasn’t meticulous about stacking his chips, the teasing has made it clear that he’s in the mood to push your buttons.

You lie on the bed, naked save for a simple chain necklace he’d gifted you some months ago, reclining by the pillows, and you’re only seconds away from giving in and touching yourself when he appears in the doorway.

“Fucking beautiful, sweetheart.” He mumbles.

He’s not a soft man, not a nice man, nor a good man. But with you, he can let his guard down a little, be truly genuine in his compliments and tender in his touches. You’re not sure what you did to make him feel he can relax, but you know it took a while - a lot of waiting - for him to be like this. He doesn’t treat you like any other cunt out there.

His jacket slips from his shoulders, and, as you watch, he hangs it in the wardrobe, taking his time to strip down. His tie follows, hung over the neck of the hanger, then his shirt. A smirk grows on his face with every undone button, every inch of skin revealed to you as you watch and wait.

Shoes came off in the hall, but he bends to remove his socks, pants clinging to the curve of his ass so tightly you’d fear they might rip if you weren’t assured of the quality. He straightens, throws his socks and shirt into the laundry hamper, then crosses the room, stopping at the foot of the bed to smile down at you.

“Gimme a hand?”

You smile back, crawling over the mattress to kneel in front of him, looking up at his dark eyes. His hair isn’t perfectly styled anymore, some of the curls slipping sideways. You reach for them, tucking them behind his ear as best you can, then kiss him, taking the opportunity to tug his bottom lip with your teeth as you fumble with his belt.

He groans, lithe fingers pushing yours away, as he undoes his fly, letting the pants fall down his legs with only gravity to assist as his hands move up to cup your cheeks, pulling you close.

“Billy-” you whisper against his lips, “Need you to fuck me, Billy.”

“I know, sweetheart,” He grins, “Just wait a little longer.”

You groan, “I’ve been fucking waiting.”

“And you’ll get a fucking reward.” He grabs your ass, squeezing hard and pulling you flush against him, grinding his cock into your stomach. “You want my cock?” He tilts his head, mouthing at your neck, one hand moving up to rest over the chain that adorns it, his thumb stroking the hollow of your throat as he sucks your pulse point.

“You know I do.” You gasp, slipping your hand into his underwear, “You want to give it to me, don’t you?”

“You know I do.” he confirms, twitching in your hand, thick length leaking already.

“Then what-” you stroke him- “are you waiting for?”

He pushes you backwards, stepping away for a second to push his underwear down, flinging it and his pants across the room with his foot. “I’m waiting for you to beg, sweetheart.”

You watch him, wide eyed, as he strokes himself, salivating at the sight of him. The tattoos that tell his past and mark his flushed skin… The chain that rests perfectly on his chest, little charm dangling between his pectorals… His thick thighs that you know for sure make a fantastic seat… The muscles of his arms, shifting with every stroke, veins visible right up his forearms and over his biceps as he flexes. And the cock in his hand… you’d never thought of them as beautiful until you saw William’s.

Your hand sneaks between your thighs, and his free hand darts forward, snatching it away, gripping your wrist tight. “Don’t.”

“Billy-”

“You don’t get anything until you beg for it, sweetheart. I can wait.”

Asshole. Beautiful insufferable perfect asshole.

“Please, Billy, I’ve been on edge all evening, been waiting to do this since before we fucking left.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, William.” You whine, “Please fuck me. I want to feel you inside me, wanna bounce on your perfect fucking cock until I forget my own name.”

He grins, “Well, when you put it like that.”

In the blink of an eye, he joins you on the bed, sitting beside you and pulling your mouth to his again.

“You ready for it, sweetheart? Or do I need to open you up?”

You grab his hand, letting his fingers dance over your soaked folds. “What do you think?”

He groans, sinking two fingers in with ease, pumping them in and out for a moment, coating them with your slick before stroking his cock, spreading your essence over him before he even gets close to pushing inside.

“Get in my fucking lap,” he orders, staying upright as you throw a leg over him, straddling his thighs, trapping his cock between your stomachs. “Fucking beautiful.”

He smiles at you, soft and genuine, those dark eyes darker still with pupils the size of poker chips. His hands move over your body, the two fingers coated with you pushing their way into your mouth as his free hand tugs at your nipples. You groan around his fingers, sucking them clean, tongue teasing at them before you let them go.

“Want it?” William smiles, moving his hands to your hips as you reach down to stroke him, thumbing over the head as he weeps for you.

You nod, moving to hover over him, letting his head bump against your clit briefly before you notch him at your entrance. “Billy-”

He hums, making that noise that’s halfway between intrigue and amusement, glancing between your face and where your cunt swallows him down. He grins as you sink onto him, grip tightening to keep you still once he’s all the way inside, making you wait all over again as his tongue probes into your mouth moments before his lips actually meet yours.

It’s distracting, and he knows it, the way he licks into your mouth and controls every aspect of the kiss even when he lets you have the upper hand. The press of his nose against your cheek, and the slight scratch of stubble despite having shaved that morning, the furrow of his brow as he concentrates that you can’t see but can feel, the soft strands of his hair that you simply have to touch.

You’re full, but he keeps you still, makes you hold him inside like you’re just an extension of himself, or a convenient wet heat that he can use however and whenever he likes. You’re warming him from the groin up as he lights a match in your mind that burns down your body and ignites in your cunt. It’s arousal tinged with frustration. You want to move, want to ride him properly - hold him to the promise he made before you left of a celebratory fuck, not this waiting and wanting game.

Is it possible to know when someone reaches the limit?

Your hands move down to his shoulders, trailing over his arms, then you grab his wrists in an effort to move his hands.

He breaks the kiss. “Wait, sweetheart.”

“This isn’t a fucking poker game.” You grunt, moving faster than he can blink, pushing him onto his back, a hand on his throat. “I’m fucking impatient, Billy. You know that.”

He stares, jaw dropped, chest heaving as you squeeze his neck a little, bracing your weight on the hand by his head as you start to rock your hips onto him.

Those long eyelashes fan over his cheeks as he pushes his neck up into your grip, Adam’s apple bobbing under your palm, his chest heaving in tandem with yours as your rhythm picks up.

He hears your breath hitch as he brushes against that spot inside you and he shifts, pressing his feet to the mattress and bucking up, meeting you thrust for thrust. Your hold on his neck falls away as you lean over him, tables turned once again as he grins, a breathy laugh becoming a moan as you clench around him.

“Fucking perfect,” he pulls you down into another kiss, then keeps your forehead against his, a hand on the back of your head, “What are you?”

“Fucking perfect, Billy.”

He grins, “What am I?”

“Ahh- an asshole-!” You gasp, his thumb sneaking between your bodies to rub circles over your clit.

“Yeah?” He sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, releasing just short of drawing blood, “Thought you’d be nicer to me while I fuck you like this.”

“You know me better than that.”

And he does. In the bedroom, where he knows how to press every button, and outside of it, while standoffish at times, he can tell exactly how you feel in any given moment. It’s about your tells, the slightest upturn of your lip or furrow of brow or twitch of fingers. Maybe, even without cards, this is a poker game… where he’s your partner and your opponent, knowing exactly how you play the game, your strengths and weaknesses… He certainly knows how to bring you to the edge quickly.

“You close, sweetheart?” He grins, “You gonna cum on my cock?”

“Billy-“ you whisper, “so good, Billy.”

“I know,” he smirks now, cocky and sure of himself.

This is how it starts, just a fleeting thought, then it builds… that first sensation of being on the edge, that knowledge that it’s coming - and soon - the steady build of pleasure that only he can give you…

“I’m close sweetheart,” he tells you, “You gotta- fuck- cum before I do, or not at all.”

“Fucker,” you grit your teeth, tugging his hand from your clit to replace it with your own, not giving him the chance to steal this orgasm from you.

It builds and builds, a pressure in your cunt and in your chest, it’s coming, it’s coming - you’re cumming, spasming around him with a rasping cry of his name as wave after wave hits you, until you land on his chest, trying desperately to catch your breath as his thrusts continue to knock them out of you, every exhale accompanied by a jolt to your spot as he works you through it and then focuses on himself…

“Ahh!” He moans, and with one last thrust he lets go, cum spurting inside you and coating your insides with him like a primal declaration of ownership.

You lay together, still connected, and get your breath back, then you roll off him, both on your backs.

He turns his head, grins, “thank you sweetheart, that was…”

“Yeah.” You breathe, “it was.”

~~~

Taglist: @astroboots @darlingdin​ @dilfoscarisaac​ @fisforfulcrum​ @foxilayde​ @huxdameron​ @idreamofboobear​ @irrelevantbutembarrassing​ @joanofarkansass​ @just-here-for-the-moment​ @mypedrom​ @salome-c​ @the-little-ewok​ @thedukeleto​ @uncle-kenobi​ @yours-truly-r​ @zoriis​  

[chaoticneutralwriter]

Fourth Act: Kindness

Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. - Galatians 6:2

guardian demon!jimin x reader

genre: fluff, romance, supernatural, angst, comedy, slow-burn

word count: 8.9k

Related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!jimin

Continuation of Third Act: Patience

A/N: WELL WELL WELL, we’ve found ourselves four acts deep and only three more to go. That much closer for our favourite demon boy to completing his goal right? 🤐🤐 Sorry it took so long as per usual T.T a lot has been going on but nevertheless, I’m still so grateful to all of your patience and love for the series so far! I hope you enjoy this chapter too! Time to ramp things up again after this LOL Oh! Also to note, the switch between names is intentional (you’ll see what I mean). As always, I hope you’re all taking care of yourself.

@cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatina @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct @beautifulparisiangirl @taelieninvader @ggukjitaejin @xakemi-chiix @vantaenims @atulipandarose​

When you had woken up the next day, you were definitely a lot more relaxed, like the initial fear of having to confront the person who makes your body react involuntarily in funny ways has worn off. You’d laid in bed, taking the time to reflect on last night’s conversation and came to the conclusion that, no matter how short it was, you could’ve done worse. Granted, you had the safety net of talking to Jimin only through text message but baby steps! You just need to do a little readjusting, rearrange the new cards you’ve been dealt with so to speak. Even though you see your guardian demon in a more romantic way now, the last thing you wanted was for it to get out of control and potentially ruin the friendship you have with him.

You’d say you had a pretty good handle on that because much like last night, Jimin continues to text you every so other day. Most of the time, he asks about your well-being, of which you reply with your usual casualness (well, not like much goes on anyways). Then there are times where you and him have actual conversations. You don’t know how they start but whenever they do, it’s like coming home from a long day at work to discover that there was actually a tub of your favourite ice cream in the freezer all along — something to brighten the dull monotony of your life, a small sweetness for you to enjoy. You easily get lost in talking with him; the playful banter, the gibes, the jokes, even when the topics are meaningless, you find yourself grinning and giggling until your cheeks ache. Everything was still so natural and you’re proud to say, you’ve only slipped up twice! (The first time it was about his hair colour and you had mentioned black is probably your favourite look on him, the second was when you had mindlessly asked if he was ever going to stop by any time soon to visit because well—! It’s been a while right? Not like you miss him…that much.)

“Whatchu grinning at?”

The voice calling out to you makes you abruptly shoot your head up from being buried in your phone, eyes meeting Jaehee’s from across the table. She’s got a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a slight quirk to her eyebrows, that’s enough for you to know that she’s caught you red-handed in one of your giddier moments. Cheeks flushing, you clear your throat and swiftly send a text back before placing the phone down on the table again, screen blackened to hide from the curious gaze prodding at you.

“Just…A meme my friends sent me…” You lie, stuffing a spoonful of fried rice into your mouth. Jaehee lets out a huff at your answer, shoulders sagging and an unimpressed look taking over her face in replacement.

“Uh huh? Just a meme?” Jaehee sounds wholly unconvinced, punctuated when she also adds, “You’re not doing the face that goes with it.”

“What face?”

“The one where you go like this.”

She demonstrates by squishing back her neck until there’s a slight double chin and then curls her lips into a dopey looking smile while staring down at her own phone. The sight makes you snort unattractively, followed by a short guffaw that has you covering your mouth. Jaehee joins in laughing with you.

“I thought that’s the face I always make no matter what I’m looking at.” You defend.

“Nah, you practically had heart eyes just now, and you got like this Disney princess smile on.” Jaehee counters, leaning her elbows onto the table. “So, is it Julien or is it Julien?”

“What makes you so confident it’s Julien?” You ask with an incredulous laugh.

“So it’s not Julien? Cuz if it’s not I would actually be very disappointed.”

That earns a light scoff from you, like as if you even have enough interest to pursue someone else, let alone the capabilities to try to reel them in, “Well, no, as if—“

“So Julien—“

“Jaehee!” You exclaim, feeling particularly bashful at being called out so suddenly — since when did you have a look when you’re texting someone? Does it show that much? “Why, what would you say if it was him?”

Your roommate grins slyly in a very Cheshire Cat manner and you swear she’s radiating an aura of excitement, wiggling in her seat as she asks, “Are you guys finally a thing?”

Your eyebrows furrow, almost in disbelief; at what you’re not even sure yourself but it leaves you feeling a little crestfallen. “I— no we’re not really a thing. I mean….” You cut yourself off, not sure where you want to go with this or if you’re even ready to have that talk yet so you sigh out, “It’s complicated.”

It might sound like a dumb reason to others, but you’d rather not involve your most trusted friend into something you’re still unsure about. You don’t want to make a mountain out of a molehill — get her invested in your boy troubles when she’s probably dealing with much more important life problems. At the admission, Jaehee’s playful grin slips and she tilts her head, puzzled. “Oh, really? I thought you guys were since….”

She trails off but you don’t need her to finish to know what she was implying. You let out a sigh again, shrugging and going back to spooning more rice on your plate in an attempt to brush it off.

“I don’t know…. I just— I’m still trying to work it out I guess.”

Jaehee watches you silently for a moment, taking in your dampened mood with concern before she settles back into her seat. “Damn, well if you need someone to vent then I’m here for you.” Pausing, she adds on with a small smile, “You know I’m always rooting for you.”

You can’t help but smile in return at her unwavering support. “Thanks Jaehee.”

Dinner passes on in companionable silence. Your years of friendship and living together have proven that you’re both in tune with each other; knowing and respecting each other’s boundaries as well as readily give support without having to say anything. It’s something you’re grateful for when it comes to Jaehee and is especially comforting because at least you know that the only pressure you’d be feeling is from yourself.

And that’s how you find yourself, staring aimlessly at your ceiling while lying in bed, deep in thought. The conversation with Jaehee, although it was brief, brought to light that, contrary to your beliefs, you’ve actually sunken yourself deeper into the rabbit hole. You’re no longer in that safe zone where if worse comes to worse, you’d be able to handle swallowing your feelings for your guardian demon and, maybe after a few days of sulking, would be able to accept that it was never meant to be. It’d hurt but you think it would at least hurt less; you’d be able to cope with it.

But before you realized it, your feelings have only grown and solidified from all the times you’ve texted that they have nowhere to go but out. You actually think if Jimin were to tell you he’s leaving the next day right now, you would have a bit of a mental and emotional breakdown.

So much for having a handle on things.

You bring your hands up to rub your face, letting out a little groan to yourself. As if sensing your distress, your phone comes to life with a buzz and a chime. It would’ve been a welcoming distraction had it not been a message from the very person who’s already occupying a huge chunk of your thoughts. So does it mean that you’re going to ignore it in favour of trying to get some peace?

“Did you have a good dinner?”

You’re typing out a response and hitting send because who were you kidding?

“I did! Good ol’ fried rice :)”

“…was it one of those days?”

“Hey! I enjoy eating fried rice once in a while >:( AND fyi, I had a sunny-side up egg on top so it’s not all as bad as it sounds.”

“Oh, how fancy of you~ “

(You roll your eyes as if he's saying it right in front of you).

“Okay chill out Mr. Bougie, I don’t need your judgment here.

I’m a simple woman.

I will eat anything as long as it’s edible.”

“Easy to please huh?

I quite like to see that for myself.”

You had to put your phone down for a hot second because you’re short circuiting. Why did your thoughts go that way? Did you ask for it to go that way? On second thought, maybe it’s you who needs to chill out.

A buzz catches your attention again and against your frantically beating heart and heated face, you go to check the message.



“Are you in bed now?”


You actually take a deep breath in and release it, trying to get your nerves under control but even so, the tips of your fingers still feel too jittery as you type.

“Yeah, just getting comfortable.”

“Good, you should get some sleep.

It worries me sometimes how late you stay up.

Makes me think you’re secretly a vampire or something.”

A snort leaves you and you shake your head at his accusations as you reply back almost instantly.

“I can’t help if I’m a night owl okay? And what would you do if I was a vampire? :O”

“Hmm….

Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

Maybe it’s because you’re so lost in conversations with him that something takes over, suddenly having the urge to get a rile out of him like the way he’s so good at doing with you that before you know it, you’re goading him on.

“Why? Would you nail me with a stake?”

Exhilaration courses through you, heart beat pounding against your chest like a beating drum as you wait. To your surprise, there’s a lull in the time he responds and it makes you preen a little, thinking for once you’ve managed to push his buttons instead of it being the other way around. It makes you anticipate his answer even more. Finally after a few minutes, a new text pops up. The words make you choke on air and you barely manage to smother the sounds of your loud coughs.

“I’d do more than just nail you with a stake darling.”

Once you’ve regained your breath, your face is absolutely on fire and your mind reeling. How do you even respond to that? Actually, you don’t even think you can — you’re here trying to one up a demon in his own game and all it got you was your foot in your mouth. You shouldn’t have expected anything less. As you’re panicking about where to even begin trying to play this entire thing off, a new message comes through.

“Like telling you that you should go to sleep or else you’ll actually start looking like the undead.

Sweet dreams, cherub. I’ll talk to you some other time.”

You wish him a good night in return, still very much in a daze at what just happened. Your hand flops back against your mattress and you just… lay there; no thoughts, head empty. Well, maybe one thought.

You really got it bad for him.

-

The streets of downtown are busy for a weekday, bustling with people who have places to go and others to see but considering the time, it’s not at all surprising. It’s approximately half past twelve in the afternoon, the general time where many who work in the office would be taking their lunches and with the convenience of the downtown area, many prefer to simply eat out. Whether it’s grabbing a quick bite or sitting down and enjoying a full service in the company of their co-workers, there’s a place that caters to everyone’s needs. It’s a time where everyone is eager to be relieved from their busy schedules and being cooped up in a cubicle for five hours straight before having to go back and push through the remaining hours of their workday.

It’s a very clockwork thing, something Jaehee knows all too well because she’s among the masses that’s a part of it yet as she watches her peers from her window seat in the cafe, she feels like the stranger looking from the outside in.

Almost three years ago, Jaehee had been like any other graduate fresh out of college; bright-eyed and ready to start their life as an ‘adult’ which meant getting a ‘real’ job. She had been so determined, vowed that gone were the days of being stuck with a minimum wage and she’s finally going to put her schooling to use. Of course, it wasn’t easy, half of the battle was just the interviews alone but over time, they start to affect her (as any normal person who’s been rejected over twenty times would, and in the form of ghosting no less).

So naturally when she had gone into that interview for a junior position in a rather small business, expecting no less only to get an offer? That was the olive branch Jaehee had been searching for in a metaphorical sea of pine trees. She accepted it without any further questions asked, the prospect of her first ‘real’ job overruling any doubts she would have had. A rookie mistake on her part, one that only really started to show once she was already in too deep.

At first, it was the small things; things that might’ve gotten under her skin at the time but very easily, Jaehee could push aside without thinking much of it again. After all, not like she expects this place to be perfect right off the bat. As long as they upheld proper HR codes, Jaehee didn’t mind that this was her humble beginnings. She had the mindset to work hard at her job, build her experience and then if things didn’t work out here, she’ll find somewhere else. So that’s what she did, she rolled with the punches every time and before she knew it, a year had passed.

But as time went on, more and more things came up; how the jobs she’s been tasked to hire candidates for always end up having little to no benefits in the long run, how because of that, they never stay for more than half a month at a time, how the inappropriate behaviour of some employees fly under the radar because it’s considered ‘not serious enough’ to be addressed, and how despite having worked for the company for years, her co-worker was never given a single pay raise no matter how well she did her job. It all made her uneasy.

Soon, telling herself to stick it out for just another year became harder that it quickly changed to just another month until here she is now, barely scraping it to three years and reduced to holding onto the single thread that’s still keeping her here — money, and even that is starting to wear thin.

As much as she hated to admit it, Jaehee has found herself trapped between a rock and hard place and she’s at a complete lost on what to do. The heavy sigh she releases felt more like it tore through her entire being, head slumping against the glass; maybe she should’ve hit up a bar rather than a cafe because she really could use a drink right now, happy hour times be damned.

Just as Jaehee considers going through with the idea, eyes scanning across the street to see if there were actually any bars or pubs close by, her gaze lands on an unexpected figure. At first, she didn’t think it was him, already hard to tell because of the black surgical mask he wore covering the lower half of his face while a pair of shades cover his eyes but the longer she watched him, the more sure she was; if there was one thing that stuck with Jaehee amongst the few times she’s met him, it was that he had an aura — he was one of those people you just knew looked attractive even from behind, which makes it all the more curious for Jaehee to see him about to walk into the same cafe she’s currently sitting in.

She watches as he comes to stand in the queue, head bowed and more focused on the phone in his hand while the other was stuffed into the pocket of his fitted dark wash jeans. Such an understated gesture but already out of the corner of Jaehee’s eye, she catches some customers looking his way with interest. The sight makes her stifle her chuckle; thoroughly amused at seeing what she had deducted earlier first hand. It’s only after he turns to head towards the self-serving counter, a medium sized coffee cup in his hand, does Jaehee think there might be a chance he’ll notice her and as if feeling a particularly steady pair of eyes on him, she sees his chin raise slightly more towards her direction.

So, with a slight wave of her hand and a smile, Jaehee makes herself known officially to the taller male, his name slipping out in a bright greeting, “Julien!”

She sees him momentarily pause, then tilt his head before he nods in acknowledgement, casually grabbing a sleeve and a lid for his cup. Once he does, he begins to stride toward Jaehee’s table, stopping short just beside the unoccupied seat across from her.

“Didn’t expect to run into you here.” He says in a light drawl as he pulls down his mask to sip at his coffee. What luck.

“I found this place to have the best coffee around my office.”

“Oh, so you work around here?” Julien sounds genuinely surprised, even takes a brief glance out onto the streets before seemingly coming to accept that possibility. “On lunch then?”

Jaehee can’t help the wry smile that makes its way onto her lightly tinted lips, shoulders heaving and the reply she gives leaves her in the form of a tired sigh. “Yeah….For now.”

At this close distance now, Jaehee can see Julien’s eyes faintly through the tinted colours of his shades, how they seem to observe her over the white rim of the coffee cup he has gingerly grazing his slightly parted plump lips, mid-drink.

One sweep of her form tells all he needs to know, so used to picking up the signs of a troubled human — a skill he’s honed over the many years of living to easier prey and exploit the vulnerable into falling victim to his dark temptations. But he’s not here to lead her astray (he thinks he’d have his head chopped off before that, courtesy of one particular gremlin he knew and adore). Besides that, he may or may not have a favour to ask of Jaehee.

“Well, you sure sound eager to get back to work.” He chuckles sarcastically. Jaehee lets out a quiet huff of air through her nose, crossing her arms as she further slumps into her seat.

“I have yet to honestly meet a person who actually likes going to work.” She mumbles sardonically, making the corner of his mouth twitch. Julien takes the opportunity to slide into the seat finally, tilting his head inquisitively in a way that reminds Jaehee of a puppy….or a cat…. Puppy-cat.

“You sound especially loathsome to go back.” Julien starts casually, placing his coffee cup down in front of him and after tapping his ring clad fingers against it, he continues with a sly smirk, “Smells like tea to me.”

Jaehee laughs, shaking her head as she also takes the time to sip more from her own cup. “Well, no! I mean…” Her voice trails off and her smile falters a little, like the gravity of the situation is settling in on her and there’s really no hope in trying to deflect with humour. Jimin waits patiently, watching the conflicting emotions flit through Jaehee’s expressions and to coax her into deluging more on what’s been bothering her, he smiles reassuringly.

“I’m all ears.”

She pauses to regard him for a moment and seeing his openly friendliness makes the last of her resolve crumble. How lucky you are that you managed to snag a catch like Julien; now she swears if you two don’t end up together then maybe romance is actually dead.

Pulling out from her thoughts, Jaehee brushes aside some loose strands of hair before she rests her chin in her hand, looking out the window to see a group of office workers enjoying the patio weather in the restaurant across the street, throwing their head back in boisterous laughter. She feels envious. With one last sigh, she speaks.

“Work…has been getting unbearable, to say the least and I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Julien hums. “Overbearing manager?”

“It’s everything really; most of the people there, the environment, the job itself…. It all just piled up and now every time I go to work it’s soul draining. I feel so anxious and…uncomfortable. All the time.”

“Have you…tried bringing those issues up with your reporting manager?”

Another heavy sigh leaves Jaehee, shaking her head. “I tried once or twice but they either brush it off or do the bare minimum to fix it. It doesn’t last long usually.”

Julien leans back against his chair, languidly folding his legs so that his ankle rests on the top of one knee. It makes for an impressive view of his insane body proportions that Jaehee still can’t believe can exist on a person; the long sleeve, dark grey and black knit tee is half tucked into his pants, giving a peek of his cinched waistline while legs that seem to extend endlessly, streamlined to a pair of black Chelsea boots. She swears Julien isn’t the tallest male she’s encountered (her own boyfriend Jason might actually be a head taller than he is) but somehow, sitting like this, you would think this man is actually seventy percent legs.

“Why don’t you quit then? You don’t sound happy being there anyways.”

His blunt suggestion takes her aback that for a moment she thinks he’s joking but he remains unfazed, completely serious. It’s a pretty obvious thing to do Jimin thinks, yet Jaehee is here looking at him as if he just told her to launch herself into space to escape from her problems. Times like these he’s reminded of how sometimes humans aren’t always so sensible. After the words have sunk in, Jaehee begins to piece together her thoughts.

“That’s…. Yeah that’s a given huh? But I just— I don’t know Julien.” The last few words come out in a sort of defeated whine, the same time Jaehee nearly slumps her head entirely onto the table in front of her and Jimin subtly takes his coffee cup to hold in the safety of his lap instead. “I want to, god I want to. At some point I even tried looking at other places and submitting resumes but I never get replies back and this place, as shitty as it is, has decent pay. If I leave… I don’t know what that would mean for me and Y/N — especially Y/N.”

Jimin sits up a little straighter at the mention of you.

“She’s still in school and also working too. I don’t want to add onto her stress load by putting ourselves in a financially tough place.” Jaehee buries her hands into her hair, mussing up the long locks into disarray with quite frankly the most severe, pinched expression of trouble Jimin has ever seen on someone. It ages her almost ten years before his eyes. He won’t lie, this isn’t exactly the kind of woes he thought he would be hearing from your roommate. Originally, he had planned to entertain her for a bit, slip in that favour he has and then be on his way. But seeing and hearing the extent of her problems now, he can’t help feeling a little sympathetic because in spite of the amount of distress it’s causing your roommate, she still thinks of you, even going as far as to consider bearing with it.

Though he might not know her well, it’s clear to Jimin that she cares about you a lot.

“Does Y/N know about what’s been happening with your workplace?” He asks carefully. Jaehee blinks before her cheeks begin to colour lightly in embarrassment and she ducks her head to try and hide it, as if just realizing how much of a mess she’s become in front of someone who she’s supposed to be keeping up good impressions for. She clears her throat awkwardly, moving to smooth out her hair again by combing through the strands and bringing her hands down to rest on the nape of her neck.

“Yeah…I’ve vented to her a couple of times about it, when things got too stressful so I think she has a good idea of what’s going on.”

“And…has she ever suggested you to quit and find a new place to work?”

Jaehee pauses in thought and then shakes her head. “Not outright I don’t think. She’s always hinted at it but she never pushes me.”

Jimin makes a noncommittal noise, smiling a little to himself — that sure sounds like you; considerate maybe even to a fault, which is why the next thought that comes to mind makes him feel disquieted.

The sudden silence from the male has her finally looking up to see what the cause of it was, only to find him looking rather bothered, deep in thought with brows pinched and a slight frown tugging down the corner of his lips. It makes her retrace her words, wondering if she had said something wrong and just as she goes to ask, he speaks up.

“Listen Jaehee, I might not…know Y/N well enough,” He starts, mindful of his wording, “but I’m confident that I know, and you know, Y/N really cares for you as much as you care for her, which is probably why she doesn’t want to push you to make a really big life changing decision. And that’s just the thing….”

He inclines his head, his attention suddenly focused on Jaehee and the weight of his gaze pierces through even the tint of his sunglasses. It has Jaehee straightening upright in her seat, involuntarily bracing herself from something she’s not quite sure of.

“She cares about you — your happiness matters to her more than some shitty job that pays well.”

Again, Jaehee is shocked into a stupor for the second time today by this man, his frankness so unapologetic but also from the amount of conviction he speaks concerning you. It was….highly endearing and she had to catch herself from grinning, choosing instead to stow away this little tidbit of information (that she may or may not share to you later). But more than that, Jaehee could swear that he even sounded the slightest bit defensive?

“So even if you quit now, I highly doubt Y/N would hold it against you.” Julien says, and in a much softer undertone that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jaehee, “She’s not the type of person to do that.”

She feels strangely touched, so much that all she can do is blink, speechless. When words fail to form, Jaehee lets out a quiet, breathy laugh, choosing to resign to the fact of the matter; Julien is right about pretty much everything and she expresses as much.

“You’re right, she definitely wouldn’t do that. I guess I’m just…scared?” Jaehee wrings her fingers anxiously. “The guilt would eat me up if things go bad for us, all because I quit my job.”

She hears him hum and as she looks up towards him, he’s nodding. “That’s pretty understanding, but is staying and sacrificing yourself really going to be worth it? Gambling with your well-being isn’t something you should take so lightly.” He shifts in his seat and continues in a gentler tone, “You have the right to think about it and come to your own decision, I can’t stop you from doing that. For what it’s worth though, you deserve better and you’re surrounded by a lot of people who wouldn’t hesitate to help you.” There’s a brief pause where he seems to catch himself, then as if making up his mind however, he mumbles, “Including me.”

Jaehee can’t help her eyes widening a bit at the declaration and she nearly breaks out into a full on grin when she sees that the dark haired male in front of her has turned his attention to the window, raising his cup to sip on his coffee in what would’ve passed as a nonchalant manner if it weren’t for the slight pink colouring creeping up his neck or the way he refuses to meet her eyes anymore. For his sake, she discreetly bites her lip to manage the urge to an appreciative smile.

“Thanks Julien, for everything. I didn’t mean to unload all of my problems onto you like that but you’ve helped me see a clearer picture on everything.”

Julien shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “It’s nothing really, though you should probably sit down and tell Y/N all of this instead of me.”

Jaehee nods humming in agreement, already feeling lighter than she had been when she first sat down in this cafe. It’s made her change her perspective into a positive one, one where she doesn’t feel so trapped about her situation. So when she notices the growing number of office patrons dwindling and leaving from their respective lunch gatherings, she’s not as anxious at the prospect of going back. As if on cue, the man across from her takes a glance down at his watch (an elegant little thing; the black leather strap standing out against a pale wrist looked so flattering that Jaehee thought idly about maybe gifting Jason the same style and how nice it would look on him too…..until she balks with the realization that it was Chanel and the idea was immediately discarded).

“Looks like you’re due to head back.” Jimin remarks, noting the time before glancing up at Jaehee. She blinks, as if snapping out of a daze and it makes him quirk an eyebrow but then brushes it off; she must still be digesting everything that happened.

“A-Ah yeah…I should probably head back…soon…” He nearly snorts at the way your roommate is obviously stalling for time, not that he would blame her now that he knows what’s been going on. But with it, he thinks now is as good a time as any.

“Hey, before you go,” He starts smoothly to catch Jaehee’s attention. She perks up, inclining her head to him. “You think you can do me a small favour?”

Jimin’s not entirely surprised to see Jaehee nod expectantly, eager to accept without even hearing him out first. Oh well, makes his job a whole lot easier.

“Yeah what’s up?”

“This might sound a little strange but can you make sure Y/N…doesn't go off and do something she might regret?” He asks, trying to be as vague yet convincing as he can because if he wants to put his plan into action, Jimin can’t have you possibly seeking him out once you become too suspicious of his absent and blatant excuses on why he can’t come by. It would needlessly put you in very dangerous situations but with the help of Jaehee, he could prevent it or at the very least, stall until he’s able to pull himself together more. Even in this moment, he’s beginning to feel pinprick needles crawl up the back of his neck, the effort to keep a cool facade has him taking deep, steadying breaths. He sees Jaehee’s expression scrunch up in confusion, blinking and he doesn’t need to hear her question when it’s so clear on her face.

“I might be gone for a while, nothing too concerning so I don’t want her to worry.”

“I still don’t understand why you can’t tell her that yourself?” Jaehee points out, still very much confused as she crosses her arms. Jimin responds with a well placed wry smile, one he hopes doesn’t look more like a grimace than anything though he can’t help but feel that’s the case. It doesn’t matter, the discomforting and all too familiar stabbing has spread past his shoulder blades, making his skin break out into cold sweat. He gets up, ready to take his leave before he unwillingly keels over, the action startling Jaehee.

“It’s…It’s complicated Jaehee. Sorry I can’t tell you more but I promise it’s nothing serious. Just…” Jimin hates how out of breath he sounds, swallowing as he rushes to get everything out. “Take care of her?”

So caught off guard by his sudden sense of urgency, Jaehee stutters, “Y-Yeah of course. Julien are you sure everything’s okay? You don’t— ” She stands, about to take a step towards the taller male but he immediately retreats back and she halts.

“I’m fine Jaehee. I have to leave now, I hope to see you around.”

Julien takes off before she has the time to think of something else to say, long strides easily carrying him out of the cafe and disappearing down the side street.

Jaehee’s frozen, eyebrows remaining furrowed and mind racing in trying to process what’s taken over Julien just now. Furthermore, she starts to realize that maybe the growing clamminess of his complexion she saw earlier wasn’t a trick of the light after all. Now she’s confused and worried. What was he trying to hide? Unfortunately she doesn’t have time to linger on it, a quick glance at her phone lets her know that she’s already running five minutes late so with no other choice, she exhales heavily, squaring her shoulders and prepares to trek back to her hell hole of an office with the hope that it will be for the last time.

-

You felt it coming; another yawn that threatens to tear your whole mouth open and you just barely manage to stifle it. You’ve lost count on how many times you’ve yawned within the hour, each time it leaves your eyes watery and you swear what little energy you had would be expelled along with it.

On most days, this wouldn’t be anything new. It was just your luck that you get scheduled with an opening shift so in combination with your already atrocious sleeping schedule, your usual perpetually tired state is doubled. However these days, there’s something else added into the mix.

Your restless nights have since been plagued with thoughts of one reoccurring demon, and not the kind that people would imagine — figments of your own imagination conjured up from the darkest recesses of the mind to torment you — no, you’re the one who has a literal demon tormenting your thoughts and the worse part is he’s probably not even aware of it!

Clearly, you’ve underestimated yourself, didn’t anticipate for the rug to be pulled out from under your feet so quickly like that. You thought you could make nice with being in a one-sided crush forever when in reality, you’ve crossed that point of no return already and now all you want to do is confess your feelings, rip that bandage off once and for all.

You want to, but….

You’re still scared deep down. What was the lesser evil? Confess and be rejected or refrain and live not knowing? Both sound like complete agony to you yet in the end, you lack the strength to do neither.

And what’s more pressing is that time is running out for you. Above your chaotic, never-ending dilemma, the reminder stays steadily in the back of your mind like ticking of a clock, muted at first, only now it’s louder and clearer than ever — your inevitable crocodile encroaching to devour the rest of you, the ever fearful Hook.

You need to make a decision and soon before it’s beyond your control.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t notice the end of your shift until your manager bumps into you, still in the aisle absentmindedly folding and refolding the t-shirts. 


“Girl, what are you still doing here? It’s like way past one-thirty, you need to leave!” Rachel laughs, nudging the shirts out of your hands.

“O-Oh, really?” You reply, a bit dazed but nevertheless, thankful. “I’ll see you next shift then.”

She waves and you scurry off, heading to the backroom to throw off your uniform vest, clock out and grab your things to leave. One good thing about having an early morning shift is at least you get to leave by afternoon and with the weather so nice lately, the trip back won’t add to dampen your mood.

For good measures, you even decide to stop by Starbucks to get yourself some well deserved ice coffee. The barista greeting you with a bright smile when you make it to the front counter.

“Hello, what can I get you for today?”

“Can I have a grande vanilla sweet cream cold brew?”

“For sure! Anything else?”

Your mouth opens to say that's all but then you stop, thinking to yourself briefly and then instead reply, “And one venti Very Berry Hibiscus Refresher.”

The barista nods, happy to punch in your additional order and that’s when you confirm then that that will be all. You move off to the side after you pay to wait for your drinks. You pull out your phone as you wait and absently wonder if you should text Jaehee about leaving her drink in the fridge when she gets home.

Lately, you’ve noticed Jaehee’s work schedule has become more sporadic than what you’re used to seeing; sometimes she’s home around three in the afternoon and other times you think she didn’t even go to work that day. Of the times she’s gone before you wake up, you find that she either has gone to work or was actually at Jason’s for the entire night. You don’t question it much, already getting the feeling that the cause is her troubles at work and she’s aware that you’re aware of it too, if the perplexed looks you shoot her whenever you see her on those occasions were anything to go by.

If this is Jaehee taking time off to simply get away and rest mentally, you’re not against it (in fact, you’re surprised that she hasn’t done so sooner). Regardless, you hope she’ll feel better and though it’s not much, you’ll lend her your ears and shoulder…..and maybe a large dose of her favourite drink.

Your name gets called and you go to collect your orders, then set off home. You arrive without further incident, enjoying the nice weather as you go. When you step through your door, you’re mildly surprised to find that your roommate in question isn’t home so you toe off your shoes and head to the kitchen to drop off her drink in the fridge.

After refreshing yourself by taking off your makeup and changing into more comfortable clothes, you decide to start prepping for dinner. Tonight’s menu is an amalgamation of things — you plan for chicken quesadilla with sour cream as the main dish but after spying a bag of frozen Korean dumplings and spicy rice cake, your stomach demands them to be served up as well. As they say, comfort food is always the best food.

You’ve just about finished grilling the last of the chicken breast and peppers to be used for the quesadilla when you hear the door unlock. Without having to check, you know it’s Jaehee and no sooner you turn towards the kitchen threshold, you see her trotting in.

“Hey.” She greets, doing little to conceal the tiredness in her voice and you offer a sympathetic smile.

“Hey, welcome home. You should go wash up and I’ll have the food ready when you’re done.”

Jaehee smiles gratefully at you before heading off in the direction of her room. You finish grilling up the remaining dumplings when Jaehee reappears again, bare faced and comfy like you are. As she seats herself at the small little table, you serve the quesadilla and dumplings first, letting the spicy rice cake simmer on low heat a little longer on the stove.

Looking at Jaehee now, you can’t help but to notice how worn she looks, dark bags beginning to form under her eyes even when she lets out a satisfied groan from taking her first bite.

“God I’ve been craving this all day.” She mumbles around a mouthful.

“You’re telling me.” You nod between chews. “As soon as I saw the bag of dumplings in the freezer, I had to make some. Same thing with the spicy rice cake, it’s been so long.”

“And that’s why we’re still roommates for so long.”

You laugh, agreeing wholeheartedly; your palette and overall love for food is what made your bond so strong, amongst other important things. You continue to eat in amicable silence, simply enjoying the food and each other’s company as part of unwinding for the day though a part of you itched to ask after Jaehee, to check in on how she’s really holding up. You only hold off for the time being to let her have her fill and forget about it, if just for a moment.

Eventually, by the time you’re both making quick work on the spicy rice cakes do you retrieve her little pick-me-up drink and wordlessly place it in front of her.

“Oh my god, girl.” She sighs out happily and you’ve never seen her light up so brightly in an instance. Your smiles matches hers as you take your seat again to pick at the remaining rice cakes.

“Knowing your workplace, you look like you could use it.”

After taking a hearty gulp, Jaehee places her drink down, a quiet pensive look taking over her expression. You can clearly see the thoughts swirling inside of her head, debating with herself but you wait patiently until she’s ready, if she’s ready. When you think the moment has passed, Jaehee finally speaks.

“Actually, I’m quitting.”

The shock of it still gets you even when you knew at some point this would happen. It was long overdue in your opinion, something you’ll admit you wished would happen because considering everything, you never understood how Jaehee had managed to put up with it for so long. You worried it would run her into the ground sooner than later and despite all the talks of leaving, they remain just that; talks. So over time, you choose to not push out of respect but remain firm in your beliefs.

Sitting up a little straighter, you swallow the chewy rice cake and nod approvingly. “Wow, for real? Like, you turned in your two weeks notice and everything?”

Jaehee breathes a laugh, sounding very much chagrined. “I think I did a little more than that.” At the inquisitive tilt of your head, she elaborates. “I sat down to talk to Ethan, my manager and I just…broke down and told him everything. Like, everything — how I felt about lying to candidates for a job that isn’t even worth leaving their current one for, how I don’t have even the basic benefits working for the company, and just feeling…awful coming into work every day.”

She inhales, “And then two days after that, he called me into his office and told me he was letting me go.”

Now that was shocking news to you. You blink incredulously, “After all that, he had the nerve to fire you? That just shows how much he cares.”

Jaehee can only nod, bemused herself but not entirely bothered. “Yeah, I mean I would be more mad about it if it wasn’t for the fact that I found out the company is literally a pyramid scheme.”

Your mouth drops without meaning to and you’re rendered speechless; definitely wasn’t expecting that. Jaehee lets a bark of laughter at your reaction.

“Yeah, exactly but it all makes sense now and it’s made me feel better about my choice. Now I’m just mad that I didn’t realize sooner.”

“Well I’m all the more glad for you.” You say, “Fuck that guy.”

Your remark earns you a half smile from Jaehee, one that is more morose than it is mirthful. It fades as quickly into something more serious, eyes downcast and fingers idly tracing the perspiration that’s gathered on her cup. “I’m happy I don’t have to work at that place anymore, but I don’t know what we’re gonna do about money from now on.”

She says it so sombrely that you might think she’s telling you the world is ending tomorrow. Okay, that might be a stretch but you do understand where Jaehee’s concerns are coming from. You’re not gonna lie and say Jaehee’s job didn’t play a huge role in helping you both pay rent and live well enough that you didn’t have to constantly worry about living from pay cheque to pay cheque. You’re lucky to be on a partial scholarship, but even then, you had close calls on paying rent on time. There’s a lot up in the air now, no doubt there’s gonna be a lot to change and though it’s worrisome, you find yourself not caring because more than anything, you’re happy for Jaehee and that’s something to worth celebrating instead.

“Yeah, we’re probably gonna have to do a lot adjusting once the time comes but really Jaehee, I’m just happy that you don’t have to work that awful job anymore.” You say, reassuring. “We can worry about all of that when it comes.”

Jaehee glances up then, staring at you as if searching for hints of a bravado but when she sees how genuine you are for her, she smiles and it reaches her eyes fully.

“You sure? Last chance.”



“I’m positive. Hell, I’ll even put in a good word for you and who knows, we might end up working together.”

She’s snorts, shaking her head. “Thanks, I’ll consider it. At this point I think even a retail job would be so much better than what that was.” You purse your lips, considering the thought but agree in the end because as much as you loathed your job, at least there were moments where you could have fun with your co-workers; shit talking customers and managers is always a great way to pass time and bond.

You recline back in your seat as the atmosphere transitions into something lighter, like a weight has cleared the air and sip lightly at your ice coffee while Jaehee does the same with her drink. When she finishes it, she exhales, visibly more relaxed.

“So,” She begins, “what about you? Are you still talking with Julien?”

You blink, clearing your throat and scratch your cheek before answering distractedly, “Um…Yeah, like…on and off?”

Truth be told, the last message you sent to him was four nights ago. They were nothing special, just your usual chats as a way for you to talk about your day with sprinkles of bantering in between and maybe….a little flirting? Your head spins at the thought, butterflies erupting in your gut and even though these chats reduce you to a sputtering mess, they’re the things you look forward to the most at the end of the day. Which makes it worrying that you’ve noticed how they don’t last as long as they used to. You try not to let it bother you too much, thinking that perhaps it was just the insatiable craving for interactions that comes with realizing your feelings for someone.

And a hint of desperation in knowing that he may soon leave.

Maybe it’s the nature of the conversations that has taken place tonight or maybe you too needed to unload a bit off your chest, but you find yourself confessing your deepest worries too, finally speaking them into existence.

“Lately, I….I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.” You struggle, stopping to try and find the right words but you think you won’t have such luck. Swallowing, you power on through the best you can anyways. “I don’t know when it happened, hell I didn’t think it would even turn out this way. I thought all we could be is just friends but then….” You scoff a laugh at yourself, “I caught feelings, and now I don’t know what to do with them.”

Jaehee takes in your words across from you with a serious air though it doesn’t quite mask how ecstatic she is at the news. The sight makes you feel better, although you wished you could match her enthusiasm.

“Are you planning on telling him then?”

The sigh you let out nearly takes everything out of you and you slump against your chair, nearly sinking down to your waist.

“That’s the thing; I don’t know if I should? Like, am I reading too much into this? Or like, maybe he—“ It pains you to say it, voice coming out small but you can’t rule out the possibility, “Maybe he might not look at it the same way I do. I don’t want to ruin our friendship just because I misread everything. And what’s worse is that….He’s…going away soon so I just feel like….It might not be a smart idea after all but at the same time I just….” You inhale from running out of breath mid-rant, only to finish off with a helpless, “I really like him….”

God you must sound pathetic…

“Okay first off, I highly doubt that’s the case.” Jaehee jumps in with surprising speed. “From what I know, it doesn’t seem like it’s just you. I…I actually ran into him not too long ago during lunch at work…”

“You did?” You sit up at that, interested.

“Yeah, we sat down and I was feeling so overwhelmed that day that I ended up telling him about work too. He told me how I should pluck up the courage to quit because I deserve better and to be honest, one of the reasons why I didn’t want to to do it was because I was scared that it would put us in a tough spot, especially with you being in school and all. I didn’t want to pressure you with anything because of something that was on me. But he wouldn’t have any of it,” She lets out a quiet laugh with a shake of her head, recalling the conversation. “He said that it doesn’t matter because you’d support me all the way, that you care more about my happiness than some job that pays well.”

Jaehee shoots you a wide smile, taking one of your hand and giving it a squeeze. “And he was right. He didn’t have any doubts that you wouldn’t have my back and…he even offered to help out if things get bad for us when he didn’t need to. I don’t know about you but that just tells me how much he thinks and cares about you.”

“If I’m gonna be honest, aside from BTS, I’ve never seen you really feel for someone so strongly before, and that has to mean something. I can see how much you really care about him too. So I think you should tell him, maybe even more so before he leaves because I don’t want to see you regret not telling him instead. I know it's gonna eat you up.”

Now you’re the one overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions running through you at once; touched, assured, surprised to hear that Jimin had been the one to console Jaehee like that, and to hear first hand how supportive he is of her and you…

Something surges in your chest, the feeling almost leaving you breathless but you’re beginning to feel invigorated, more sure of yourself. It gives you hope, a dangerous thing but you want to so badly believe that there’s something there, something more.

“You…really think so?”

She gives you a pointed look, stare unwavering and that alone is more than enough. “One hundred percent, you never know until you try but I think he’s just as into you. And if by the off chance that I’m wrong…I’ll be there for you, whether to pig out on a carton of ice cream or to beat somebody up. I gotchu girl, like how you got me.”

You take a deep breath in, squeezing Jaehee’s hand back and her confidence rubs off on you. You let it take away whatever remaining doubts you have left. There's no excuse to back down now, or to run from it.

You’re gonna do it.

You have to do it.

[starlxghtstarbrxght]

@llightandthunder​

CLOSED

“BOO!”

Like a fiery torpedo, Kory launched herself at her friend’s unsuspecting torso from behind, clinging to his back with far too much enthusiasm. Probably an expected greeting, particularly on a night like this. All of the citizens wandering about in their chosen disguise was quite an engaging sight to beheld, a lighthearted affair after a year of so many mishaps and calamities. Kory was delighted to see those she strived so hard to protect with such high spirits; it naturally lifted her own mood skyward into the twinkling stars above. Dotted in haphazard disorder across the inky black night. Of course, Kory was dressed accordingly. Over the last week she’d cycled through at least fifty different costume options and finally settled on a favorite character from a movie she enjoyed. An alien costuming as another alien, perhaps many wouldn’t get the hilarity of it but she’d certainly been amusing herself all day over the thought.

”Did I succeed in frightening you?” it was improbable that she’d truly succeeded in startling him considering she let out squeal as soon as she spotted him. With a hearty laugh, she detangled herself from Billy’s back and hovered ecstatically before him. “I so love this earthian festival, a whole evening of thrilling shenanigans centered around scaring your dearest friends in lighthearted jest. Truly delightful” The adorable children laughing and gathering sweet treats were just the icing on the cake and she made sure to wave at each that passed her.

“Now, ask me who I am” 

[elianaevergreenstormcloak]

Seven thousand steps farther - 23 rd of Last Seed – 4 E 201 – Ivarstead

She reached Ivarstead in the late hours of afternoon and stayed at the inn for the night. Perched over the borders of Eastmarch, and nestled in the foothills of Tamriel’s tallest summit, Ivarstead was a sight to behold. Farms and crops outstretched in stair terraces all the way down the hill, to the first line of pine trees marking the boundaries of the hold. Cascades and torrents of silvery water, born from the eternal snows at the apex of the peak, ran down the slopes of the mountain to fuel rivers and lakes around. Life revolved around sowings and harvests, and in those late summer days, the inn was quiet from dusk, and the village busy from dawn.

:readmore:

“What can you tell me about High Hrothgar?”, Eliana asked, as she tightened the buckles of her satchel and backpack, making sure the additional weight would not impede her climb too heavily.

“The Greybeards are a solitary lot.”, the innkeeper replied. “I don’t think they’ve ever ventured outside their monastery. We get the occasional pilgrim passing through here on their way to the summit, but almost all of them have returned disappointed.”

The young woman pensively nodded.

“I won’t.”, she smiled assertively. “Anything I should be cautious of, on my way up?”

“Klimmek makes the climb every one or two months. Knows the pathway like the back of his hand. He might be able to give you some advice. You should find him at his fishery, on your way out of the hamlet. Best of luck on your way. Make sure to make a stop on your way down.”, he added as the young woman headed to the door. “Our bard, Lynly is quite fond of the pilgrims’ tales. Makes up for the boredom of our provincial life, I imagine…”

“I will.”, she answered. “Thanks a lot.”

Mist and morning dew twirled above the river in rubans of smog, in which floated like fireflies the dying ambers of the bridge lantern.

Down a wooden pontoon, a man was setting his canes and nets, for the day, and straightened wiping his brow, when the shade of a newcomer came obscurcing his work.

“Damn bears got another of our nets.”, he mumbled, not even looking up from his handiwork. “Beyond repair, this time. Got to have it replaced next time you head to Rift-”

The fisherman froze, upon realising his mistake.

“Sorry, milady.”, he offered, dropping back the torn net on the floor. “Mistook you for my associate – not that you look anything like him”, he mumbled attively, “ ‘tis just that I didn’t expect…”

“There’s no offence taken, don’t worry.”, Eliana reassured him with a smile as the man drowned himself in apologies. “You’re Klimmek? The innkeeper told me to come to you for advice on the pilgrim’s path to High Hrothgar.”

“You’re heading to High-Hrothgar now? This time of the year?”

“Believe me, it wasn’t my first choice.”, she snorted, remembering how many times she had delayed her project of a pilgrimage to the Gildergreen, and did not even take time to make a stop by the temple when she was in Whiterun. “Anything I should be particularly cautious of, on my way up?”

The man considered her for a moment. “I usually avoid making the climb in the hottest and coldest months. Extreme conditions make the path treacherous, stones come lose either from frost or meltdown, and a good tumble is not the worst you risk, if you trip up there. Storms can be sudden, and quite strong. The summit blocks clouds from both north and south and the wind can blow quite hard, so I advise you find shelter in one of the station, if you see the weather is changing. Apart from that, there’s the occasional pack wolf, or stray bear, and some pilgrims talked of trolls - I never saw one - but this time of the year, whatever you’ll encounter will have food aplenty, so they shouldn’t attack you, unless provoked. Do not stray from the path, and everything will be fine.”

Eliana crossed the bridge, and began the ascension just as the sun started its course from the horizon, and the sky turned a brighter shade of blue as mist and smog lifted, leaving in their stead only the fresh sting of spray and the faint crisp air descending from the mountain. Her mind heavier from Klimmek’s warnings, but her heart set as ever on the task at hand, she reached the first station, and knelt before the carven stone. Cuneiform writing in the tongue of the Nords of old spread on the dark granite arch, as on the tablet were traced in several times erased and rewriten words, a tale older than time.

'Before the birth of Men, the Dragons ruled all Mundus.

Their word was the Voice, and they spoke only for True Need.

For the Voice could blot the Sky and flood the Land.’

'Men were born, and spread over the face of Mundus.

The Dragons presided over the crawling masses

Men were weak then, and had no Voice.’

'The fledging spirits of Men were strong in Old Times

Unafraid to war with Dragons and their Voices

But the Dragons only shouted them down and broke their hearts.’

'Kyne called on Paarthurnax, who pitied Man

Together, they taught Men to use the Voice

Then the Dragon War raged, Dragon against Tongue.

'Man prevailed, shouting Alduin out of the world,

Proving for all that their Voice too was strong,

Although their sacrifices were many-fold.’

She came to a halt, resting her back against the stone, taking cover from the freezing wind as the tale weighted heavily on her soul. The story of the world, of the first Dragon Break, was unfolded before her, a legend carved in stone that felt like a life-time repressed memory and echoed to her soul with deafening truth.

Overwhelmed, she closed her eyes and took in a few deep breaths, fumbling with the cords of her bag to set her gourd free, and took a few long gulps of ice cold water before she forced her mind back on Nirn.

Just over the edge of the rock outcroping hovering the emptiness, the whole of Skyrim stretched to the horizon, from the foothills of the mountain. Far below, she could see the plains of Whiterun fade into the green lands and vast pine forests of Falkreath, the black arches of Bleak Falls Barrow detaching themselves from the sparkling waters of Lake Illinalta, and, at the far edge of White River valley, drowned in the mist, and behind a crest, the ruins that used to be Helgen.

Hugging her knees to her chest, she averted her gaze and grabbed some food from her satchel before she risked a glance up the snowy slopes of the Throat of the World. The path was wide enough for now, but she feared the higher she’d climb, the narrower the stairs…

Already, the eroded stone steps were often swallowed by the earth and provided little guidance regarding the way to follow, and Eliana more than once had to dig out the carven stones to ensure she was indeed heading the right way. Moreover, if the morning winds carried in their wake naught but the crisp cold of fresh fallen snow and the twinkle of stalactites melting against the sunbathed rocks, the early hours of the afternoon had seen the skies darken, and the heavy clouds gathering at the summit, breaking on the mountain like spume on a cliff, augured nothing good for the rest of her journey.

She had reached about the fifth etched tabled when at a turn of the path marked by two tall standing stones, a light snow strated falling. Quickly, the sparse grass and mountain flowers disappeared, leaving in their stead only rocks and wide snowdrifts.

Eliana shivered, the wind biting harshly at her exposed flesh. She tightened her cloak around her shoulders, and nestled her face in the woolen inside of her hood. Even the birds seemed to have deserted these heighs, and no sound from the valley longer reached her ears, other than the howling of the wind. Strong gusts of freezing wind, charged with powder snow drifted over the edges of the mountain, stinging her skin and burning her lungs. Running her hand against the slope, farther from the precipice, and digging her heels deep in the snow to anchor her to the ground as the gale grew in strength, Eliana muttered a word of thanks to the gods as, at the end of the flight of stairs, a tall rock outcropping came covering the road, in a long natural tunnel.

She made a stop just past the entrance, relieved to see snow recede, and cobblestones emmerge from the ground, a seemingly long portion of the road carrying on under the protection of the stone.

But as the wind quietened, and the air grew heavy and moist, a scent of rot came to her nostrils, sparkling in her a well-trained instinct. Squinting to pierce through the darkness, she could glimpse the outlines of remains, stacked against the walls of the gorge. The smell and sound betrayed the presence of the predator before her eyes could fathom the mass of muscles and fur detaching itself from the dark recesses of the cavern to charge upon her.

Fire engufed the defile, casting a most unwanted light upon the beast’s lair. Teeth and claws sharp as scythes slashed through the air. Eliana dodged, fire at her fingertips keeping the troll at bay, but fear could only fend sheer blind rage for that long.

The troll charged through the wall of flames, propelling her to the ground. Breath knocked out of her lungs, Eliana rolled to the side as the beast plunged on her. Massive fists hit the ground, where she lied seconds before, shattering the eternal ice like glass.

“FUS!”

The word swole past her lips at its own volition, and reverberated long through the valley.

Shoved away, the troll let out a furious roar, long limbs taut as bows and empty black eyes fixed on its prey. A wall of flames engulfed it.

Eliana straightened, white hot fire crackling in her palms, and relief washing over her as a second fireball hit the troll’s writhing form and drowned its cries of agony in the blaze.

She heard too late the roars of the second monster, awoken from its light slumber by the fracas of battle. A howling - unlike anything she had ever heard - and the crack of trunks shattered in splinters in its wake filled the air. The ground trembled. A sound like bones fracturing broke from the mountain’s side. Blocks of ice and stone detached themselves from the roof of the tunnel as snow engulfed the entrance and unfurled through the passage way in a deadly cold wave.

Eliana bolted through the cave, dodging spikes and shards of rock falling from the ceiling as a long crack tore through. Snow and hail fell in a curtain from the chasm, enlarging the breach to the breaking point. The bones of the earth broke, and the tunnel ripped in half, leaving in its stead a gapping wound, bleeding snow and rock in an endless cascade that came to die quietly into the plain.

Battered against the rock, Eliana struggled to breathe. The weight of the mountain crushing her ribs, she curled and struggled against snow and debris – not to dig herself out, but to alleviate the pain. Her air rare and lungs oppressed by the cold, she still managed to percieve the faint light of day through the hard layer of snow. Closing her eyes, and willing her breathing long and calm, she focussed the last of her magicka in a weak, but steady fire, hoping she would hold long enough to melt through the ice and dig herself a way out.

Warm water prickled like embers on her cheeks. The heat of the flames burned her fingers, as blood rushed back to her extremities. But when a gust of freezing cold wind whipped through the roof of her ice coffin, and allowed her for a deep constricting breath, she realised with dread that escaping the deathgrip of snow might be the least of the hardnesses she’d face on her way to safety.

Sun was slowly but surely setting west, bathing the mountain in a gold and rose light, as above her, the skies turned dark and stars like fireflies danced on the firmament.

'Fear not this night.’, she recited, digging her way through the snow, and struggling to keep enough focus to maintain the shadow of a flame in the palm of her hand. 'You will not go astray.’

Snow impeded her movements. Debris carried from the mountain’s slopes littered all that remained from the path, a white cold edge overlooking a dark emptiness, threatening to collapse at the slightest chance.

'Though shadows fall, still the stars find their way…’

Darkness and blizzard had engulfed the Throat of the World when, a distance ahead, the flickering light of lanterns filtering through stained glass came piercing through the night.

A brazier burned, atop of a flight of stairs, on the right of which, in an alcove sheltered from the whims of weather, a tall statue of a man slaying a serpent overlooked the path.

Clenching the broken amulet of Talos around her neck, shivering and stumbling, she climbed the stairs and pushed the black-iron doors. A wave of warm, encense and resin charged air whipped her face. The contact of stone under her body was her last with reality.

She came by to the sound of a fire crackling nearby, and the scent of dust and herbal tea, covering that of smoke and resin. A heavy thurible was hanging above the bed, warm light and ghostly ribbons of smog twirling over its edge. Banners of teal and pale yellow ornated the dark massonry of the temple she barely remembered reaching.

She straightened, the pain in her ribs gone, with only a bruise and a few frost burns to remind her of her misadventure. Her robes were drying on the back of a chair, water still dripping from the sleeves and bevelled hem, and a warm dark wool cover wrapped around her, keeping at bay the cold her breast-band and breeches could not. A steaming hot bowl of amber liquid rested on a stone stand, on her right, the warmth and fruity taste of snowberies and dragontongue bitterweet on her tongue. She coughed, and put the empty bowl back on the stand, before she dared try her footing. Her muscles protested, a cold gust of air prickling her skin, but she was otherwise fine. She searched for her bag, finding it at the foot of the bed, and pulled Gerdur’s green dress from the pack, relieved to find it slightly damp but still dry enough to be worn.

Keeping the blanket wrapped around her shoulders - the linen dress too thin for the crisp air of the monastery – she descended the corridor to a flight of stairs, and reached into a wide open hall, littered with potteries and candles.

Kneeling before a bas-relief depicting Kyne enlightened by a brasier, a hooded monk slowly rose to his feet to greet her. The young woman bowed respectfully.

“I am Master Arngeir.”, the elder introduced himself. “I speak for the Greybeards. Few are those who find their way to our sanctuary, in those troubled times. Fewer who dare to brave the wrath of Kynareth on the pilgrim’s path. Tell me, now, traveler, what have you come looking for, in High Hrothgar?”

“Guidance.”, the young woman breathed. “I… am answering your summons.”

A spark of recognition ignited in the elder’s eyes.

“So… A Dragonborn appears, at this moment, in the turning of the age.”, he breathed in reverence. “The Breath of Kyne herself murmurs through your Voice. We are honored to welcome you to High Hrothgar.”, he greeted as three other monks joined the hall and bowed in turn to their visitor. “You must have many questions…”

The young woman nodded.

“Why me?”

“That is for you to discover.”, the elder smiled comfortingly. “Many have come, before you - many of the Dragon Blood - since the One first bestowed that gift upon mortalkind, in search for answers to the same question. But Akatosh’s will lies beyond the sight of mortals, and even the very wise cannot see all His ends. As for your destiny, it is not ours to question.”, he mused, considering the young woman before him. “If it is guidance and wisdom you seek, we will help you in that pursuit, just as the we have sought to guide those of the Dragon Blood that came before you.”

Eliana nodded silently.

Ever since her encounter with the dragon, since his soul scorched through hers and in his dying breath he named her dovahkiin, a sense of impending doom weighted heavily on her shoulders. Her steps were hard and painful, like fighting against a current there was no escaping from. But when she reached the foot of the mountain, as she traveled the slopes of the Throat of the World, and now she stood at the very heart of Kynareth’s sacred domain, for the first time she felt at peace. Breathing came easier, the aching of her limbs subsided, and even the weight of memories seemed lighter on her heart.

“Teach me, then.”

The monks exchanged a glance, as Arngeir led her to the centre of the hall, where cracks and carvings overlapsed, covering the stone pavement in an intricate patern.

“Without training you have taken your first steps on the way of the Voice. Now let us see if you are able, and willing to learn. When you Shout”, he started explaining, “you speak in the language of dragons. Dragons have the inborn ability to learn and project their Voice. Language is intrinsic to their very being. There is no difference in the dragon tongue between debating and fighting. Shouting comes as naturally to a dragon as breathing, or speaking. Dragons also are able to absorb the power of their slain brethren. A few mortals are born with similar abilities - whether a gift or a curse has been a matter of debate down through the centuries. Some believe that Dragonborn are sent into the world by the gods, at times of great need. But we will speak more of that later, when you are ready.”, he added before she could ask further. “In the mean time, we will do our best to teach you how to use your gift in fulfilment of your destiny.”

She remained at the monastery for two days, practicing her Thu'um, honing her skills, meditating on the Way of the Voice, her place in Akatosh’s schemes, and whatever the Greybeards accepted to teach her.

“There is indeed much that we know that you do not.”, Arngeir admitted, when she questionned him, “That does not mean that you are ready to understand it. What you have already learned in a few days took even the most gifted of us years to achieve… You have shown that you are Dragonborn. You have the inborn gift. But do you have the discipline and temperament to follow the path laid out for you? You have been given this gift by the Gods for a reason, but d o not let your easy mastery of the Voice tempt you into arrogance of power. That has been the downfall of many before you.”

25 th of Last Seed – 4 E 201 – Windhelm – The Palace of the Kings

The courrier collapsed on one of the benches, out of breath, as Galmar Stone-Fist unsealed and read the message from their advanced post in the Rift. The general cocked a brow, and read again before he sent the messenger to the Bloodworks to rest, and headed to the war-room.

Frowning upon the map displaying their locations, Ulfric was planning on sending reinforcements to the three holds circling Windhelm.

Ten days had passed since that ambush at Darkwaters Crossing. A week since Helgen. Only days since he returned home, exhausted, wounded, escorted by half as many soldiers as expected… The end of what was meant to be a quiet travel to Riften and had become an awaken nightmare, filled with Imperial soldiers, Thalmor justiciars, and dragons.

“For Talos’ sake, Ulfric! You look like you’ve been dragged through Oblivion and back!”, the housecarl exclaimed upon the jarl’s arrival.

“I’m glad to see you too, my friend.”, Ulfric responded and collapsed on his throne.

His head in his hands, Ulfric told Galmar the whole story, from the ambush, Tullius’ plans to take him to Cyrodiil for a formal execution and how a broken axle forced them to change course to Helgen, the prensence of the Thalmor, both in the Rift and in Falkreath, the nameless mass grave dug in midst of Falkreath forest where the Imperials meant to bury them, and the dragon’s attack, dark wings unfurled and hellfire razing Helgen to the ground.

“However they got word of your journey to the Rift, if there are traitors amongst our ranks, we’ll find out.”, he assured Ulfric, his mind set on bringing the traitors to justice, but beyond that he knew what the jarl was really concerned about. “A dragon…”, he whispered.

“The harbingers of the End of Times…”, the jarl muttered. “Is that it, my friend… Have we gone too far? Is it time?”

Galmar walked to his friend, concerned.

"Are you alright, Ulfric?”

“No.”, the jarl answered truthfully. “But I will be… I must.”

That was five days ago.

Ulfric had fully recovered from his misadventure in Helgen. And here he was: the jarl of Windhelm, the very heart of the rebellion, ready to rule again, to fight again.

Galmar cleared his throat in order to draw his friend’s attention.

“What is it, Galmar?”, the jarl asked still starring at the camps on the map.

“A message from Gonnar Oath-Giver.”

“Has something happened in the Rift?”

“It appears the Dragonborn has been seen. A patrol has made contact on the twenty third, and the guards of Ivarstead confirm her arrival at the village, to climb the Seven Thousand steps.”

“Her?”, the jarl repeated.

“Gonnar couldn’t send much of a description but according to his men, the Dragonborn is a young woman. Not the warrior type – the men describe her as wearing novice robes.”

Ulfric let out a snort and smiled. A young mage called to arms to defend Skyrim against her foes, and stand as a ward against evil. The Gods had a weird sense of humor when it came to choosing their Champions.

“She left the temple the day after.”, Galmar kept reporting. “Heading to Whiterun.”

Ulfric said nothing for a second then took the note and read it through.

“Send the word to every camp, and to our allies in Whiterun - if she has taken residence in Balgruuf’s city, the Greymanes must know. I want weekly reports on her moves and her whereabouts. Treat her as a potential ally, but avoid direct contact as long as her allegiance remains unsure.”

The bear nodded and left the room.

Ulfric read the whole letter again and left the paper on the corner of the table before he headed back to work. The jarl found himself humming a tune that brought him both hope and uncertainty.

'Our hero, our hero claims a warrior’s heart,

I tell you, I tell you the Dragonborn comes.’