#{she is already out of N&H and is slowly making progress on bettering herself-- shes not disturbed or traumatized by these sights.}
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
shewhooncegripped · 5 months ago
Note
Hands you several concerningly bloody prosthetics
[The prosthetics clang loudly as they land on her lap. Kromer sets down the arm she was holding to regard the new arrivals-- her face contorts into disgust.]
Why are these covered in blood? I have to wear my work uniform for the rest of the day, you know. Now I have blood all over my pants.
[Kromer does take this time to observe the machinery, however. Some have frayed wires sticking out of them while others seem to end in a neat cut. There's even a head in the pile that is likely the one dripping the liquid.]
These all come from different sources. You can tell that some of these limbs were torn off the body while others were amputated. Plus, this leg that has a lot of blood on it? That wasn't from a full body prosthetic, it likely had the purpose of enhanced running. It's owner was still alive when this was removed.
[Kromer seems to be done analyzing what she was given. She pushes the prosthetics off of her lap and onto the bus floor with a loud crashing noise.]
I don't have a use for these prosthetics, or any prosthetics in general. Once they are removed the body they are honestly quite disgusting. Can we stop giving me these things?
9 notes · View notes
minnophee-writes · 1 year ago
Text
No One Escapes Death... Unless?
A/N: Hello again! I'm alive and well, just been really busy with job searching recently and had a job interview earlier this week so I had that take up most of my time. It's looking very promising so if I suddenly become very spaced out with posts then it'll be either because I got the job or I'm still searching ;w; Anyway, I hope you enjoy this Ghostface fic I did! Drew artwork that kinda inspired this fanfic as well <3
Fandom: Dead by Daylight
Pairings: Danny "the Ghostface" Johnson x Penelope (OC)
Fic Warnings: Character death, blood, violence, knives, death, dub-consensual touching, dub-con, smaller female / taller man, size difference, dark smut, injuries, doggystyle, nonconsensual pictures and video taken, spitting, claiming, breeding, brief squirting, creampie, slight cumplay (if ya squint) (🔞MDNI this fic is for ADULTS! Begone minors🔞)
Summary: Screams echoed all around Penelope as she tried to work on repairing generators and helping her fellow teammates from being strung up on hooks like some sort of sick trophy. One by one her friends are slaughtered viciously; multiple, deep knife wound bleeding from the tops of their backs, and a river of fluids leaking from their mouths. When Penelope becomes the last survivor standing its a scramble to find the hatch before getting caught by the killer, but he's got better plans in store for her~
Word Count: 2.5k words
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Her hands shook slightly as her fingers tried to pair the correct wires to each other, slowly making progress on one of the many generators around the MacMillan Estate, her heartbeat was pulsing fast and loud that it blocked out the harsh sound of her panting. It wasn't long ago that Penelope had helped Dwight off the hook after the killer, Ghostface, had stalked and ambushed him inside the main structure. Penelope had quickly assisted in patching up his injuries before Dwight then guided her to a nearby generator, promising to aid her in repairing it.
Dwight was sweating bullets and constantly kept glancing over his shoulder, his nerves were like a live wire and brain on high alert. Penelope stayed focused on her task when a piercing scream rang across the air, freezing the two in their place. She held her breath as she looked at Dwight from the corner of her eyes, a silent question dancing in her stare.
"I-I'll go get her, you stay here and keep working on the gen. It's got two pistons pumping so you just need to get the last one and you're done!" He slowly stood up and awkwardly started to shuffle away while staring back at her, "Don't worry, you got so much progress on it already."
Those were his parting words before he vanished within the dark fog that was floating around the atmosphere. Penelope nervously nodded her head, mainly to herself, before turning back to the generator - hoping not to accidentally connect the wrong wires together and risk blowing it up, and injuring her hands. While she worked on the generator and all her focus was on her task she didn't hear the footsteps approaching her - not until a light touch to her should spooked Penelope out of her head and ripped a yelp from her. The generator sparked and sputtered, from the harsh yank her hands would have done when she got scared, and her eyes darted hysterically between the gen and the person who had invaded her space.
The person who had startled her was none other than Meg, the redhead having a look of mortification and fear on her face from the generator short-circuiting. Tears streamed down her face as her hands covered her mouth and her breaths came out as fast, stuttering breathing.
"He killed her..." Meg muttered.
"What?" Penelope's brows pinched in the middle, a pensive expression marking her features.
"Ghostface!" the woman sobbed, a little louder this time, "H-he just kept stabbing her - over and over and over again... The sicko even took a picture of her after she was already dead."
Penelope went to console Meg when they both heard Dwight's scream ring out from the distance, sending a chilling feeling through her body. She managed to talk Meg into working on the generator with her so that they could get out of their current hellscape, they only needed to complete that last generator then they were scott-free! Penelope could only hope that Dwight was running the killer through many loops and pallets, buying them time to gain progress on repairing the generator. Meg's hands suddenly stopped moving, her head staring at the side of the gen and her breathing was a wet gasping.
Penelope froze, listening to Meg's breathing and slowly connecting the dots that is doesn't sound right, before shakily turning her head to the redhead to peak at what could be wrong with her. What caught her attention was the trail of blood leisurely flowing out of her parted lips before a dark figure looming behind Meg drew her eyes next. Her green eyes made contact with two, black holes glaring back at her.
Ghostface grouched behind Meg's body, his head tilted as he stared at her, his hand slowly creeping up to grasp the hilt of the large knife that was embedded into the other woman's back, and giving it a hard yank. A whimper escaped Penelope's mouth, her body dropped to the ground, and her arms struggled to drag her backwards - away from the killer who had just murdered her friend right beside her. He stood up menacingly, keeping eye contact the whole time, as his feet gradually carried him toward her retreating figure.
"What do we have here?" His gravelly voice sent shivers down Penelope's spine, her eyes widening as her back hit a solid wall behind her.
"Please... I-I'll do anything, please!" Penelope begged, "I don't want to be in pain..."
Ghostface seemed to pause, tilting his head further as if contemplating his options. Her words echoed in his head, sprouting a few sinister ideas on how she could convince him her spare her - a dark chuckle errupting from him as he then rapidly approached her and harshly grabbed a hold of her arms.
"Anything, you say? Well... I can think of a few things you could do to show me how much you really wanna live, sweetheart."
Ghostface then quickly lifted Penelope onto her feet and pressed his body against hers, making sure to specifically press his growing erection against Penelope's stomach. Penelope let out a yelp and clung to the front of his robe, hoping to push into his chest to create some distance but that was dashed away when he grabbed each of her arms and bent them behind her own back, binding her wrists with one of his large hands while the other started to grope her hip and thigh.
"So, Sweetheart, can I ask what your name is so I know what name to say when I'm cumming in you-" Ghostface leaned close to her face, his breath fanning over her through the mask, "- or would you rather I call you Sweetheart and Baby Mama? Since that's what you're gonna be once I fill that pussy up with my cum."
Penelope let out a shout in protest, kicking and thrashing about in his hold hoping to losen his grip but he held strong, not even budging slightly - patiently waiting for her little 'tantrum' to simmer down so he could get on with his plans. Her strength diminished in his hold and she eventually went still, her head bowed - she didn't dare stare into his eyeless gaze for fear he'd take her soul as well as her dignity. His hand roughly grabbed at her belt, struggling to unbuckle it for a moment before popping the buckle, loosening it before unzipping her jeans and rucking them down her plush thighs. He then shoved his pants down his muscular thighs, his throbbing cock springing up and slapping against his lower stomach from how hard it was. Beads of pre-cum leaked from the head, his shaft was medium length but was slightly thick which caused a pang of fear to shoot through Penelope.
"L-look, I'm sure there's other ways I can show how much I want to live besides this!" She stammered, her thighs squeezing together in small retaliation.
"No way, Sugar. This is happening my way or you're getting the same treatment I gave your little buddies, and trust me, you don't want me to play with you that way - do you?" Ghostface threatened.
Penelope's lips quivered and tears started to build in her eyes as she slowly accepted her fate, her own self preservation and fear of suffering a painful death ultimately winning over her own self respect.
"My name's Penelope..." Penelope's voice was barely above a whisper, yet his keen ears was able to hear her but he wanted to humiliate her a little.
"What was that, Honey? Couldn't hear ya', gonna have to speak up!"
"My name-" She swallowed, a bead of sweat falling down her temple, "- is Penelope..."
"Awe, such a cute name for such a cutie~" He teased, "You know me as Ghostface but tonight you can call me Danny. That's the name I wanna hear you moanin'."
Before she could even process what his next course of actions would be he was already 2 steps ahead, manuvering her to the ground with her hips in the air - her arms still held behind her back. He squeezed her wrists in warning before letting her go, his touch vanishing and, so too, did his presence looming over her arched body. As Penelope debated taking a peek over her shoulder, she suddenly felt a cool breath fan over her exposed pussy lips right before the moist sensation of a tongue licked a stripe over her clit and folds.
A shocked moan left her lips as he did it again, the repeated action shooting bolts of unwanted pleasure through her body, her thighs quaked with each tongue stroke Danny delivered. A few licks later Penelope felt something small, yet thick, start to probe her opening, her hole fluttered at the contact as it circled her twitching hole before it slowly started to insert itself into her - Penelope then realizing it was his finger while his thumb rubbed against her sensitive clit. Penelope gasped which ended in a prolonged moan, her pussy clenched around his finger and drenched it in her arousal, a smirk plastered across Danny's face at hearing her sounds of pleasure.
"That's it, Penny, just think about how much better it'll feel once my cock's in it." He purred into her ear as he introduced a second finger into her, "Poor thing's practically beggin' for it."
Danny managed to fit his middle and ring fingers snuggly inside Penelope's pussy as it fluttered around them, his wrist and arm moving fast to bully the spongy walls of her g-spot while her juices coated his entire hand. Danny rolled his tongue around in his mouth to gather more saliva before spitting a big glob of it onto her pussy and finger-fucking it into her, making her more slick and slippery. Penelope's eyes started to blur and her brain felt hazy, she felt completely boneless from the pleasure Danny was giving her and a tight knot was forming deep inside her stomach, threatening to snap the longer Danny continued his fast, brutal pace.
"D-Danny... Gonna c-cum..." She barely managed to mumble out and he was quick to withdraw his glistening fingers from her pulsing cunt.
"Think you're ready for this? Heh heh..."
He grasped her hips tightly, arching her back and lifting her hips higher, alining his hard cock with her pussy and gently pushing into her - a stuttering gasp escaping Danny while Penelope groaned at the stretch, not use to a cock as thick as his. Each inch Danny would slowly fuck it into her before trying to introduce another inch inside her, almost cumming at the sight of her beneath him and clawing at the dirt in a very weak attempted to crawl away from him. He chucked at her and leaned against her back, smothering her with his body and pressing her further into the ground to ensure she couldn't get away.
"There's no escape. You're mine now, Penny, and there's no point in fighting it." He whispered into her cheek, lightly pressing a kiss there while shoving the last inch into her pussy.
He took a moment to get adjusted to her throbbing walls, waiting for her to settle before tilting his hips back and delivering a deep, hard thrust back into her, a wet smack following whenever their thighs made contact. Each thrust caused his balls to slap against her clit and pulled a sweet moan from Penelope, fueling Danny's ego and triggering his primal brain - his hips working hard to fuck into her with the goal of breeding her encouraging him. Danny's hands became restless and wandered up her soft stomach, gliding under her black shirt and pulling down her bra, his fingers manuvering their way toward her stiff nipples, pinching and tweaking them while Penelope squirmed from overstimulation.
"Danny, please!" Penelope begged but she didn't know what she was begging for - freedom or more pleasure?
"Don't worry, Honey, I'll make sure to fuck you so full everyday until it takes. I can promise you that." He panted while his thrusts got more aggressive, one hand going toward her wet cunt and rubbed sharp circles on her abused clit.
Penelope let out a scream, her pussy clenched Danny so hard it pulled a grunt from the man as he drilled into her faster, he panted into her ear as he worked to get Penelope to an orgasm so he could pump her full of his seed. Her toes curled and her fingers gripped the blades of grass as the knot in her stomach suddenly snapped - her shriek ripped itself from her throat, fluids shooting from her pulsing cunt while his cock continued to bully her g-spot. Danny's fingers proceeded to play with her bundle of nerves, pushing Penelope onto the line of pleasure and painful overstimulation but he didn't seem to care.
"C'mon, Penny... Gimme one more..." Was his delirious demand.
Penelope wasn't sure if she could give him another one, her pussy clamping down hard each time his cock slid into her gummy walls, his leaking tip kissing her cervix anytime he buried himself to the hilt. Danny leaned back onto his heels to glance at where they were joined together and witnessed a foamy white ring of her cum around the base of his cock, each thrust only smearing it across his dick. He groaned, quickly taking out his small camera and took 3 photos of the messy view before setting the camera to 'record', and placing it on the ground somewhere to the side. Pleased with what the camera would be capturing Danny then hugged himself around Penelope's body, his hips then manically bucked into hers, his own orgasm crawling up on him steadily.
Penelope's second orgasm came out of nowhere, her cunt squeezed around Danny's cock and pulsed in euphoric waves which triggered Danny to slam himself as deep into her as he could and shot rope after rope of potent cum into Penelope's warm pussy. Deep groans and little whines left the killer's mouth as he pumped his seed into her before he rested his sweaty forehead against the back of Penelope's neck, taking heavy breaths while his hands roamed over her fucked-out body - groping her ass and thighs before slowly pulling out of her puffy cunt. A few droplets of cum began to leak out but Danny just 'tsk'd, grabbing his camera once again, and used his pointer and middle fingers to push it back in - making sure to get it all on film.
Danny placed his mask back onto his head, shoving his flaccid cock back into his pants before rucking Penelope's panties and jeans over her hips, making sure that the panties would keep the cum inside her pussy and any drops would be saved onto the gusset. He took it upon himself to pick up the cock-drunk woman and carry her to the hatch, gently placing her onto the ground and nudging her into the open hatch, watching her disappear from sight but knowing that from now on she'll be his forever.
hope y'all liked it! Please be sure to like and reblog <3 <3 <3
53 notes · View notes
simplysimpingsimp · 4 years ago
Note
HI, I LOVE YOUR STORIES SO MUCH!
Especially with Dad!Zenitsu! I also have a small request if you don't mind! Can I ask for something fluffy with Rengoku?
Like, Rengoku just returned from a mission in the Mugen Train, wounded but alive and Reader just runs around him with medication, bandages, just wanting to help him! And maybe small cute confession? If you don't want to or can't do this, it's alright!YOU ARE WONDERFUL, MWAH
Tumblr media
Hi hi Ilumin!! Ahhh you’re so sweet TT I’m so glad to hear that you love my stories, that means so much to me !! Of course you can have this request <3 !! Rengoku means so much to me and this request is what I wish would have happened at the end of the Mugen Train arc T^T but anyway! This is a very sweet request :D as always I’m sorry for any mistakes, I will gladly go back and fix them!! I used fem pronouns for this one but if it’s not to your liking then I will gladly go back and change it 0:! It’s no problem at all :D!! And I’m super sorry for taking a while to get to you TT
🔥—————————————————————🔥
Tumblr media
🔥 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜
🔥 𝚁𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚘𝚔𝚞 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
🔥 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: 𝚜𝚑𝚎/𝚑𝚎𝚛
🔥 ⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎𝚝𝚠: 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎
🔥—————————————————————🔥
Hurriedly she ran to where Rengoku was being taken for his critical injuries to be treated — the butterfly mansion.
She felt no tiredness, neither the burning in her muscles as she ran or the scratches from bushes she cut through to shorten her pathing. Her heavy steps kicked up dirt clouds from the path as she nearly reached the front gate.
Y/n had been out on her own mission away from her usual area around the butterfly mansion as a sort of combat medic where she would treat the injured demon slayers before the kakushi arrived. Bandages and medications were stashed away in her satchel, she was sure he had arrived at the mansion already but she felt that she needed it.
Fearful thoughts raced in her head as she prayed for his safety and that he would be fine by the time she arrived. Tears burned in her eyes as she prayed to any being that he would still be breathing, that it was some sort of sick joke that he was in critical condition.
“Please Kyo, j-just hold on,” she panted out as she reached the gate with tears streaming down her warmed cheeks.
She ran in, as if on cue Tanjiro guiding her to where he was recovering.
Tears rolled down her cheeks in large droplets as she hurriedly approached his beaten form after quickly thanking Tanjiro. Falling to her knees, a sob escaped her lips as she watched his sleeping form. How much pain did he have to endure?
Her hand delicately stroked the yellow hair she adored, as she examined all the bandaged parts of his body. The way his chest would staggardly rise and drop, there was no doubt he was struggling to just breathe.
“K-Kyojuro,” her voice meek and broken as she cried into the bed.
A soft groan filled her ears as she watched him stir, hearing a pained expression and feeling a familiar hand on her head.
“D-Don’t cry N/n, I-I’m fine-e,” his voice weak and low, pain lacing every word he spoke yet there was a gentle smile on his lips.
She continued to cry, shaking her head, “H-How could I n-not cry?!” She sobbed out as her hands gently gripped onto the blanket that covered him.
A pained snicker left him joined by a quiet wince, “Y-You always w-worry too hard, b-but I’ll be f-fine. I a-asked Shinobu i-if she could p-put me under y-your care.”
A light blush tainted her cheeks on top of the blush from her crying, “I tr-trust you’ll t-take care o-of me,” his words resonating in her heart as she vigorously nodded and gently held onto his hand.
“I promise! I promise I’ll get you back and running in no time,” she spoke as she wiped away her tears, a faint smile on her lips.
“That’s my girl,” his voice soft as his eyes fluttered closed and he fell into deep sleep.
᪥᪥
Months passed as she helped him rehabilitate and heal. Every minute of it she loved in the sense that she grew even closer to him, but it always brought her sadness when she would watch him struggle. Yet Y/n admired the way he would push through obstacles and his continue on with his work ethic, hardly did he ever get frustrated with himself as he did his best.
“Good job today, Kyo!” She cheered happily as she brought over his meal and medications, “I’m so proud of the progress you’ve made.”
He smiled brightly at her, now donning an eyepatch on his left eye.
He hummed, “Mm! And it’s all thanks to you! Thank you for the meal,” he almost yelled out as the tray was set on his lap. His voice was endearing and loud as it always was.
She giggled as she heard every ‘umai’ as he ate his meal with a gentle blush on his face.
It made her heart flutter and feel full with love seeing the goofy flame hashira recover at astounding rate.
Just a few months ago, it looked like he would just barely make it and he would become a husk of the man he was. And yet, there he was. The same Kyojuro, as if nothing had happened to him. His smile was still the same, just as bright and charming. His gaze remained the same, despite his eye being hidden by an eyepatch. Everything about him was the same. The determination and devotion to his duty as a demon slayer was admirable yet she wished that he would think of himself every so often.
Recalling an interaction when he took her in for training before sending her off to do her final selection exam, she could hear his loud voice say, “You’ll do great!”
As Y/n remembered that charming smile on his face as she nervously blushed, hesitancy in her gaze as she peered onto the path surrounded by wisteria.
His touch on her shoulders was soft as his smile became gentle, “N/n, you worked so hard to get to where you are. You are as strong as the swordsmen in the upper ranks of the corps, I’ll be waiting for you, okay?”
He gently draped his haori over her shoulders, before patting her head for a final time and encouragingly pushing her onto the path, “You can do it!!”
Y/n blinked her e/c eyes slowly, as she realized…
She was in love with him.
Y/n felt her face warm, realizing she had been staring at him unknowingly before quickly ripping her gaze away from him who was distracted with his meal.
“N/n, are you okay?” He spoke concerned as he reached over to touch her forehead.
She squeaked, “Ah yeah yeah I’m okay! Don’t worry,” her voice sounding panicked but adorable.
He chuckled as he finished his meal, gulping down his medication with tea before carefully setting the tray on the wooden nightstand.
“Kyojuro, could I tell you something?” Her voice soft as she looked down, the blush on her cheeks darkening.
“Mm! Please do,” he looked at her attentively with a soft smile.
“So there’s this person..” her voice trailing.
“Is that so?” He responded curiously.
She nodded, “And I really like him.”
“That’s amazing!” He exchanged with a bright smile, “Who is it? Who is it?” he questioned curiously, “I need to know who to warn to protect you at all costs.”
A furious blush formed on her face as she got close to him before gently flicking his forehead with a soft pout, “It’s you, dummy. Kyo, I-I really like you..No, not just like...I love you! And I’m certain of it.” she looked away from his yellow ringed ruby eyes as her blush became pink, “But I don’t expect you to feel the same,” a saddened smile on her lips, “That day when you lent me your haori, I felt so at peace. Like you were there with me, encouraging me to get through any trial I encountered at the final selection.”
Y/n fiddled with her fingers as she felt her heart nearly burst from embarrassment and worry, “That’s all I wanted to say,” she looked at him with a soft smile as she braced herself for probable rejection.
He looked at her, watching her nervously play with her fingers. Kyojuro laughed, that same hearty laugh that made her heart flutter.
“What makes you think I don’t feel the same,” he spoke lovingly, “I love you too N/n! You’re the reason why I’m still here today. You’re the one that saved me and encouraged me to heal and get better,” he placed his hand over hers, “I realized that I’ve loved you since we met! One night when I had a dream about you!”
He chuckled, “You looked so beautiful in white,” he wiggled his forked eyebrows making her blush return as a dark red.
With a reddened face, she leaned in and gently kissed his cheek. As she was about to pull away, Kyojuro brought her back and kissed her lips lovingly and sweetly.
Fireworks blasted in her as her heart pounded aggressively in her chest as she felt her lips embrace his. Love evident in every crevice of his soft lips as he gently moved along with hers before pulling away, that adorable cheeky smile on his lips as a light pink dusted his cheeks.
“Well I guess that means you’re all mine now,” he spoke proudly with a smile lacing every word, “I love you N/n!” he shouted.
Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm as she nodded with a gentle smile on her lips, “I love you too, Kyo.”
ᴇɴᴅ
🔥—————————————————————🔥
ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛɪɴɢ! ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ
ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ <3 ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ғᴇᴇʟ ғʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴇɴᴅ ɪɴ
ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs/ᴀsᴋs/ɪᴅᴇᴀs/ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs/ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ!! sᴇᴇ
ʏᴀʟʟ sᴏᴏɴ ( ˘ ³˘)♡!!
ᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs: 17
333 notes · View notes
bvccy · 4 years ago
Text
Nothing to Despair | Preview 2 / Work In Progress
PAIRING: Soft!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before are asked, because of their language skills, to go undercover as married on a two-week mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, and notices his partner feels similarly isolated. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily persuaded.
WARNINGS: Just nightmares and hurt/comfort, MORE ANGST
WORD COUNT: 2K
A/N: It's been 84 years and the fic is still not done, so have another preview. I didn't wanna post more, and this is a rough version, but then N I G H T M A R E S happened and NEW GIFS I was just bouncing to contribute so here, have this. Ironically, it's not Bucky having the nightmare in my fic, it's the reader/MC having one and being comforted by him, but still gonna take advantage of this lovely gif <3
Tumblr media
She was running aimlessly away, but he was always behind her. She could hear him catching up, and if she turned her head she could see him coming closer, and his angry heaving breath was almost right behind her, and then she woke up.
Laying in bed frozen stiff with fear, her eyes took in the darkness of — oh, her hotel room at the Grand Continental in Cer. She stood up in bed and looked around: safe, quiet, and if she tried to remember her dream she already couldn't. She picked up her phone on the bedside table, fiddling with the Stark tech to see the time: 3:36 AM.
The fear was so intense she thought she would die if she didn't hold another person, right now. She had never felt anything like this in her life: not when falling out of a tree, not when flying, not when she got the mission from Steve, not when Bucky cornered her…
Bucky. He was sleeping in the other room. If she could just — No. He would either laugh at her for being silly or resent her for waking him up. She could almost hear him now: "You woke me up, for this? Take it like a big girl and go back to bed."
But there's never been a fear like this… in her blood and her bones, and her mind and underneath it. Through the silence of the room, she could hear her own heart thrumming, and though she knew it was impossible, a part of her mind was certain there was someone there with her, waiting, ready to —
It took three minutes of hugging herself in bed and trying, uselessly, to not be scared to absolute death before her heart won over her head and she stepped lightly to Bucky's room. She didn't even knock, she scratched at the door lightly. If he was awake, he'd hear it; if he wasn't, she won't wake him up.
No response. When she turned the handle slowly and inched the door open enough to poke her head through, only then did Bucky stir in bed. She could just make out the shape of him through the light from the window.
As he groaned sleepily and shifted in his sheets to get up, she wasn't sure if he was upset with her or not, and it didn't escape her notice how his hand went underneath the pillow — a weapon hidden there, most likely — but then he spoke into the dark and sounded gentle, if groggy.
"That you, doll?"
"Yeah… Can I come in?" she whispered, clinging to the door and trembling.
"Something happen?" asked Bucky, practically awake already.
"No, nothing, but — " How to tell him, how to explain a reason as dumb as this?
He was sitting up in bed by now, rubbing his face with his flesh hand, and then he looked right at her. "Come on in."
She stepped through gratefully but still ashamed, holding onto herself in her flimsy nightgown as she padded to his large bed. As she got closer, she could finally see him: soft hair ruffled, a stubble just barely grown, a plain white tank top stretching across his chest and the hint of scarring around the left shoulder.
His eyes looked curiously up at her, even worried. She hated depending on him, or anyone, and he'd noticed it. So when she looked at him pleadingly from beside his bed, he looked ready to listen, and to do almost anything.
"This is so stupid but —"
"Tell me."
"I'm really sorry to bothe—"
"It's ok, just tell me."
"I had a nightmare please don't laugh at me."
He wordlessly lifted the duvet and patted the bed for her to lie down.
She got in quickly and, before she could think of whether it was the smart thing to do, snuggled up into his body, her face at his neck and knees brushing against his stomach. She had enough control to keep her arms folded to her chest and didn't grab onto him, although she wanted to. Her heart was still beating powerfully away, her ribs and neck pulsing with its rhythm, her breath near panting.
"Thank you. I'm so sorry I woke you up."
"It's ok." he shushed her, one heavy arm going up to tuck her in then staying curled around her, braced against her back on top of the covers.
"This never happened before." she whispered apologetically. "I think I'll be fine in… a few minutes."
"Get the adrenaline out of your body, I know."
She paused and wondered if she should ask, then decided. "You get like this too?"
"Night terrors? Yeah, used to have them a while."
"I don't think it's a night terror… Not really."
"Good." he breathed into her hair, a touch away from a kiss.
It made sense why he'd be so sympathetic. He probably understood what she was going through better than she did, and suddenly she was filled with pity at the thought of him going through that alone — that and even worse, which was unimaginable. She snuggled in just slightly closer, but this time it was not for her own sake, and she regretted, with the strength of real guilt, that she did not know him sooner, that she couldn't be there for him when he needed someone —
"H-how did you get over yours?"
— if, in fact, he didn't have someone already.
"Slowly."
She sighed and rubbed her knuckles against his chest, the closest thing to a caress she could manage, and all around her she felt him freeze for a second in an intake of breath.
"M-must've been some nightmare." to get you to cuddle with me, he left unsaid. "Wanna talk about it?"
"Not really." she sighed. "I already forgot it. But this fear, it's not going away…"
"It's quite something, isn't it." Bucky softly said, the arm around her back moving slightly to brush a thumb over her shoulder in slow, caressing motions.
She burrowed deeper into his chest, feeling surrounded by his warmth as his chin rested lightly on top of her head, both of them melting into the pillows. Slowly, her fear left her, and she became aware of the scent of him burning her up from the inside, sharp and spicy and just a bit sweet, and how she could just about hear his heartbeat, and his breathing, and how she had never seen that much of his naked skin before — though she barely could at all in the dark.
His fingers started making circles over her shoulder, lazy and absentminded, and she had to bury the mournful thought that this was the first time she'd ever felt anything like it.
Bucky pulled her imperceptively closer, bit by bit as the tension left her, and soon the back of her curled hands fell to rest against his chest, her knuckles pressed against a naked patch of skin. She felt him inhale sharply at the contact, and underneath his sheets she too trembled at the quiet tenderness.
"Don't worry, doll." he breathed into her hair. "I'll keep you safe."
Tumblr media
She must have dozed off at some point. She became aware of Bucky's hand now hung around her hip, her own arm flung around what measure of him she could reach. Her head was resting on his broad chest and one leg was curled on top of his underneath the blankets. He seemed sound asleep, breathing softly beneath her, head tilted toward her as the faintest sliver of morning light shone through the curtains.
Without moving her head much, she looked up at his face. Bucky seemed more grim asleep than he did awake, his delicately drawn mouth resting in a frown, his brows low and with a hint of tension, his unshaven cheeks scruffy and dark. He must've put on a bit of a show to seem cheerful in front of her, when he did…
She let her eyes lick across his figure, down his thick neck, the stretch of tough skin, and the chest with the hint of hair peeking from underneath the tank top. She breathed in the warm scent of him and suddenly the feeling of his arm gripping her waist, even in the gentleness of sleep, was overwhelming.
There was too much of him, too close, too trusting, too intimate, so wide open just for her, and the inescapable hint of his affection distressed her: with how impossible it was, with how demanding it promised to be.
Slowly, she lifted her cheek off his chest and slinked away, his hot hand scraping across her figure as she went and stepped backwards onto the floor, trying to move the bed as little as possible. She looked at the watch on the bedside table: 4:55 AM.
Tip-toeing away, she left his room and closed the door with the faintest click she could manage.
Tumblr media
Bucky opened his eyes to find his bed empty, the room quiet and just light enough for shadows to stretch across the length of it. It was just like every other morning but somehow, through her presence the night before, she'd taken something away. It's not like he'd hoped to wake up to her in his arms. Of course not. That would be silly.
His hand moved over the sheets: cold. She probably left as soon as he fell asleep. It was amazing enough that she had come at all, but then again he had an idea of how her nightmare made her feel; if hers were anything like his, she'd have gone to just about anyone. Even… Don't finish that thought.
He turned in bed, his back to where she'd been, facing the windows and the balcony glass doors beyond which the crowns of far trees swung in the morning air, big and beflowered and brimming with birds. It was, in every other way, a beautiful morning.
And things were so close to being perfect. He had her there, he'd held her in his arms, he'd been given the chance to be good to her, and wanted, and there when she needed him, and over it all hung the cloud of wonder at what a rare person he had found in her. Yes, she was a bit sullen sometimes and unassuming, but he realised those things were what he liked so much about her, that opening to being cared for so precisely shaped for what he had to give.
She wasn’t like the women he remembered from before; she didn’t try to make herself seem softer or sharper or more cheerful than she was, with a carefully curled mane of hair or an impossibly fertile figure, nor was her every gesture an invitation to flirt. She was dull and tender by comparison, a little sensitive and a bit sad, like a girl that never grew up but who, with so small a twist, might suddenly become beautiful.
When he pushed aside his guilts and longings, Bucky was grateful for all those little faults she had. He knew that if she poured her energies into seduction, she could be terrifying and irresistible. So he decided that he liked her distant and sullen and shy, even if it kept her from him. If anything, it only made him like her more, long for her more, want her for his own flawed self; take his pity, that her pride couldn't stand, and turn it into the most dedicated caring.
But he wondered was was wrong with her — what was wrong with him for her. She could hardly stand more than a few seconds' touch from him, like a raw nerve. Did she just not like the way he looked, or walked? Or the things he said, or how he treated her, or talked? Was it the arm? Was it his age? Was it who he was?
All of these were plausible, but somehow it felt like he was missing something. She wasn't just indifferent, she was so deliberately distant it almost seemed calculated. And she didn't just decide to avoid him, he realised: she did it instinctively. Her body reacted first, and she followed. At the periphery of these unhappy thoughts was the pitying realisation that she'd had practice.
Bucky wasn't heartbroken by her tacit rejections, of course not, he wasn't that far gone yet (but there was no way his was the first heart she'd broken).
He thought back to how she was around other men. Charming, more cheerful, joking and flirty but still, in the end, distant. All the teasing jokes distracted from her, all deep conversations distracted from her, all heartfelt consolations distracted from her, every incline of her body faced away.
After only a few minutes, Bucky relented and turned, burying his face into the pillow she'd slept on. It actually still smelled faintly of her hair. It was so specific to her and so comforting, her perfume mixed with something sweet and cloying and just a touch salty, it made his mouth water and his loins burn.
He rolled onto his back, lifted the sheets off his body, and looking down he noticed the state of himself.
"Down, boy." he sighed. "She's not here anymore."
Bucky rolled out of bed and got ready for his morning push-ups. They always made him feel better… Maybe he could add another couple hundred today.
146 notes · View notes
klvbxlove · 4 years ago
Text
finally (chie x american! gn! reader)
a/n: i’ve got another persona 4 drabble. this time it’s dedicated to another cousin of mine, matt. i hope you like this, i lowkey had fun writing it! i think it’s now the longest drabble i’ve written so far (it has, i think, 400 more words than my yosuke one, damn). i do plan on writing a rise drabble for my other cousin, chuck, soon, but i also kinda wanna write a kanji drabble. idk which one to start off with, so i’ll see what my mind decides. but anyways, enjoy this drabble! :)
Tumblr media
reader type: gender neutral
reader specification(s): reader is from america and is also a bit flirty LOL
genre(s): fluff, romance
trigger warning(s): none
summary: as much as chie loved being with you, she was saddened by the fact that you lived in america, which is far away from japan. however, one day you give her a surprise, one that she wasn’t expecting at ALL
word count: 2.9k words
♡ ♡ ♡ (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε`*) ♡ ♡ ♡
key:
(e/c) = eye color (f/a) = favorite anime (f/c) = favorite color (n/n) = nickname (y/n) = your name
♡ ♡ ♡ (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε`*) ♡ ♡ ♡
   It started with Chie meeting you online after finding out you were a fan of (F/A), an anime series she had recently started watching. Having been in love with it for years, you were glad to find someone else (regardless of whether you met them online or in real life) who also loved it as much. 
   Then it slowly progressed into the both of you talking about everything besides (F/A) almost constantly. Every day, whenever you woke up, whenever you were waiting for school to start, whenever you were about to go to bed. Hell, even when you were out with your friends, the both of you found ways to text each other! Also, both of you may or may not have stayed up on school nights to continue the conversations.
   Conflicted feelings eventually showed up at the front door months later, when the both of you realized you had crushes on each other but had no idea how to bring it up. Neither of you originally wanted to confess in fear that you would be rejected, and the friendship would end up tensing up (cliché, I know). But ultimately, the two of you got over that fear and eventually ended up in a relationship.
   And that is where the two of you are at now.
   Now, here was the thing. It was not as if there were any major problems throughout your and Chie’s relationship. It was quite healthy, to say the least! 
   So what was wrong?
   Chie lived in Japan, and you lived in America. 
   Those were different countries and two different continents. 
   Even before entering a relationship, the two of you initially had some difficulty having the time to chat with each other due to the huge time zones. It was especially hard since both of you were high school students who had to focus on their education. Although like troopers, the both of you managed to deal with the time difference and found time to talk. 
   And of course, Chie could not forget to mention this was not only her first relationship but her first long-distance relationship. It sucked not being able to see you every day (not including face-time calls. Sure, she has seen your face, but not in real life). Chie was not one to constantly watch couples. However, when she did, she could not help the slight jealousy in her eyes. She had no idea if she would ever get the chance to get a ticket to America or vice-versa. 
   All Chie could do, whenever she missed you badly, was to sulk. There was no other way to do it. Was it healthy? Probably not. How was she supposed to help herself? But then again, it was not her fault she had been raised in Japan her entire life. Same as you, you have been in America for a while now. And the both of you certainly could not help the fact that you were miles away from each other. 
   Of course, that was not enough to stop Chie from being sad about it from time to time. She had a feeling she would not see you anytime soon.
-
   The short brown-haired female found herself sitting alone on the bench, scrolling through her phone. Out of everyone in the Investigation Team, Chie was the only one who did not feel like going to the restroom. So she insisted on waiting for them outside. Although, that was not the only reason. She did not want any of them catching her reading her text messages with you and questioning why she was smiling. 
   But then Chie remembered one time Yosuke had caught her doing that. Yeah, he was the first (and unfortunate) person. As he had continued to tease her, she eventually got irritated and took out that irritation by kicking Yosuke right in his scrotum area. (**)
   Oh God, she just had to bite the inside of her cheek. She was already seeing him riving in pain on the ground as he held the affected area and the rest of their friend group looked on in either confusion or concern. Hmph, served him right!
   Scrolling up towards the older texts, Chie was reading a conversation she had with you. It was about how you wanted to visit her in Inaba and explore the town. 
   Chie: I mean, of course, I’m down to you coming here and meeting me. But let me warn you, Inaba is a bit boring. I don’t think you could even compare it to other places like Tokyo or Osaka.
   (Y/N): Babe, I don’t mind at all! And besides, you know I’m willing to visit any part of Japan, not just Tokyo. I’m like head over heels with Japan at this point BWAHAHAHA
   Chie: I think everyone knows. But knowing you, I think you would especially want to go to Akihabara.
   (Y/N): Hey, stop calling me out!
   Chie: You know it’s true (N/N). Eh, not that I blame you. They got cool stuff there. It would be nice to visit sometime.
   (Y/N): For sure! We should go together, too ;)
   Jeez, even reading old texts you sent Chie always managed to make her blush! Although they were not the only reasons for her blushing, besides your flirtatious remarks. On a few occasions, you would poke fun at her (Not in a way to make her upset, of course). You were lucky that Chie considered you more tolerable compared to Yosuke. 
   She could already imagine herself not bothered by you teasing her about something like how Yosuke did. And when Yosuke would see, he would ask, “Oh, so (Y/N) can tease you, but I can’t?! WHERE’S THE LOGIC IN THAT, CHIE?!”
   Oh, wait. Chie looked up. Now that she realized, she had not told anyone in the Investigation Team about her relationship with you. No, it was not because she was ashamed. Well, it was more of the fact that she did not have a logical explanation. 
   Was it because she could not find the time to tell everyone? Maybe.  
   Or was it because she knew that some of them might not even believe her? 
   Looking up from her phone, the brown-haired girl saw everyone else heading in her direction. As she stood up, placed her phone in the back pocket of her shirts, and followed the rest of the team, she thought, ‘There will be a day where I can introduce (Y/N) to everyone. One day. And I’ll be sure to do it!’
-
   INCOMING CALL: (Y/N)
   Chie immediately sat up from her bed at the sudden sound ringing. Her first instincts were to assume someone had broken into her room. However, those instincts vanished when she looked over at her nightstand and saw that it was her phone making that sound. When Chie looked at the screen, her eyes lightened in excitement upon seeing what it read. 
   “(Y/N)!” She said after picking up the phone.
   “Hey, Chie,” you answered over the line. Said girl could never get tired of hearing your voice. “How’s my favorite girl doing?”
   Chie could feel the blood rushing towards her cheeks again. You were not one to call her many pet names. But when it comes to you referring to her as “your girl”? Do you even realize the effect you have on her?! She was lucky she was not like this when she was sneakily texting you next to the Investigation Team! 
   “I--” she cleared her throat, “--I’m good, thanks!” 
   You chuckled over the phone. “You know, for a sec it sounded like you were getting flustered again. Don’t hide it, Chie. I know you sometimes clear your throat when I see those cute cheeks turn pink!”
   “H-Hey, shut up!” Chie retorted. If this was an anime, she was sure she would have had a tick mark above her head. “Why do you always tease me whenever I blush? I don’t get it, (Y/N),” 
   “It’s ‘cause you’re so cute, baby.”
   ‘STOP. OH MY GOD, PLEASE!’
   It wasn’t exactly helping that Chie had made some weird sound at what you had said. And it wasn’t any better by the fact that she heard you snickering. “Jeez, if you were an anime character, even though you don’t act like one, you would surely be a tsundere!” 
   “(Y/N),” Chie gritted her teeth. To hide her flustered form, she acted as if she was angry. “I swear to God I will...get back for you one day.”
   “Get back? Hmm? If I didn’t know any better, I thought you were going to say, ‘I will kick your ass.’ Is my girl getting too flustered now? How cute.”
   “Grrr, (Y/N)...” Damn it, Chie wanted to fight back against you. Sometimes (or more like, a majority of the time), you were way TOO MUCH to handle! You knew how to get her going, that was for sure. 
   “Alright, enough about that,” you spoke up, the teasing tone in your voice already gone. “I wanted to call you ‘cause I got a surprise!”
   At that, Chie’s eyes lit up in slight interest. “A surprise?”
   “Yep! I’ve been planning it for a few months so I can get it right. And now I think it’s the perfect opportunity to give it to you!”
   The surprise was more intriguing than learning about a new steak meal at Junes and practically drooling over how it would taste. Chie could not hold back her excitement anymore. “What is it, (Y/N)?!”
   “Ah, ah, ah! I can’t tell you what it is. You’ll have to find out for yourself, babe.” you snickered. 
   “Oh, come on!” Chie grumbled. “You know I can’t do that. You’ve gotta at least give me a hint! Just one hint! 
   “Well, how about this,” you suggested. “Just open your front door, and you’ll see it right then and there.”
   Okay, that was a bit suspicious. Chie raised her eyebrow. It was not as if she had little to no faith in you when it came to surprises. Coming outside to the front door, though? Just what were you planning? “Are you sure?” she asked. “You’re kinda weirding me out,” 
   “Just trust me on this!” you said. “I’m not trying to do anything creepy, I promise. Come on, Chie. Just open your front door.” 
   “Fine,” the short brown-haired female gave in, sitting up from her bed and exciting her bedroom. Maybe Chie was feeling a bit too doubtful about this. For all she knew, you must have sent her something like an anime figurine of her favorite character. Or even better, maybe you ordered her some food and had it sent to her front door! 
   “Okay, I’m at the front door,” Chie spoke over the phone as soon as she arrived. With her free hand, she unlocked the handle before fully opening it.
   And what did she see? Just someone wearing a (F/C) shirt (Chie was sure that was your favorite) and carrying a backpack. In one of their hands was a suitcase, and they had a smile on their face. 
   Chie was extremely confused. Did she invite someone to come over to her house for a sleepover? She did not remember, nor did she think she ever did. She highly doubted that this was the surprise you were mentioning. 
   A few seconds of silence passed before the person snickered. “What’s with the confused look?” they asked. Their voice sounded so familiar, but who was it? “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you don’t recognize your s/o! You’re breaking my heart over here, Chie!”
   Wait a minute.
   Wait a Goddamn minute.
   That voice. 
   That familiar smile.
   Her eyes widened.
   There was no way. Was this real? Was she dreaming? If so, someone needs to knock her out right now! 
   And she meant RIGHT NOW!
   Chie almost dropped her phone on the floor. “(Y-Y/N)?” she spoke up. 
   Their smile-- no, your smile grew a bit. “Yep, that’s me!” you nodded. “Live in the flesh, and not just some photo on a screen.” 
   ‘So it was you, holy shit!’ 
   Chie could not believe it. Her mind was feeling so many things. One part of her accepted the fact that this was real. But the other part of her was in disbelief. Chie had no idea what to do at this point. Besides, she already knew she must have looked foolish right now, and you were there to see it in real life. 
   And then the tears came. 
   Chie could no longer control herself. She practically jumped out towards you and wrapped her arms around you. She almost knocked you to the ground, but luckily you only stumbled backward a bit before balancing yourself. “Y-You finally came!” she sobbed into your chest. “You’re real! You’re right here, oh my God! I-I’m not dreaming, right?! Please tell me I’m not!!”
   Meanwhile, your heart felt like it was being pulled on tug strings watching your girlfriend cry out of happiness. You wrapped your arms around her waist to complete the hug and rubbed her back soothingly. “You’re not dreaming, darling,” you reassured Chie, “I’m right here. After many, many months, I’m right here.”
   Chie pulled away for a bit, wiping her tears with the sleeves of her sweater before looking up at you with a tear-stained smile. “I never thought the day would come when I get to see you right in front of me,” she said, “I thought it wouldn’t even be possible, either! You’re here, at my house. Speaking of which--” 
   Then the realization hit her, “--How did you even get my address? Because I don’t think I ever gave it to you after months of knowing you.” 
   “Well,” you scratched the back of your head sheepishly. You were somewhat scared that Chie was going to question it, but now she did. 
   “Please don’t kill me when I say this. But I talked to one of your friends, Yosuke, and I told him about my relationship with you. After a while, I tried to bring up the suggestion of wanting to visit you after I realized I have a chance of going to Japan. Then he gave me your address, and I kept it. Then as soon as I arrived in Inaba, I went to your house. I know that sounds so creepy. I’m sorry!”
   Chie would have kicked Yosuke’s ass (literally) if he ever did something like that. She would never approve of him giving any stranger her address, especially without her permission. And she would have kicked your ass for coming to her house as well. Chie would want you to consider yourself lucky since she understood where her friend was coming from, so there was no anger in her body. 
   Oh yeah, and it seems like Yosuke already knows about you and Chie. He better not have told anyone else on the Investigation Team. She was planning to do it very soon.
   “Don’t worry, I get it,” she said. “If getting my address from one of my friends meant that you got to see me, then I don’t mind at all!” 
   You were expecting Chie to yell at you about how creepy that was. After being shocked at her calm reaction for a while, the feeling disappeared, and you smiled, patting her head. “Thanks, babe. I appreciate it.
   “Oh, and by the way,” Chie spoke up. “Now that you’re here and not just on a screen, I’d like to do one thing with you. 
   Puzzled, you tilted your head. “What is it?”
   A smirk appeared on her face. “I want to kiss you!”
   Your eyes widened a bit. Now it was your turn to feel flustered (you could already feel it in your cheeks). You were not opposed to the matter, as you could understand why Chie would want to do it. You had no idea why you were feeling nervous in the first place. You cleared your throat. “Well, alright. I don’t mind,” you smiled. 
   “Oh wow, you’re getting flustered now, aren’t you? I guess this is karma for all the times you’ve made me flustered.” Chie snickered. 
   You sighed. Somehow you had a feeling that your girlfriend would say something like that. But you decided to brush that aside for now.
   Rewrapping your arms around her waist, you slowly inched towards her face. Both of your eyes closed at the same time as she placed her hands on your shoulders. It almost felt like an eternity for the moment to finally happen. 
   And then, the moment happened. Your lips connected into a kiss. 
   You instantly realized how soft her lips were, and you had to admit it felt amazing. You almost considered not pulling away for a while. Both of you did not want this to escalate into some steamy make out session, so you kept it slow. But there was a feeling of love and passion in it. You could feel the bliss coming into the atmosphere. 
   Seconds passed, and both you and Chie pulled away. You smiled. “God, do you know how long I wanted to do that?” you asked softly, caressing her cheek. 
   “I could ask you the same thing, (Y/N),” Chie answered. “I waited for so long, and I thought it would never happen in a few years. But now it has, and I’m so happy.” She rested her head against your chest to feel your heartbeat. “Thank you. Thank you for coming here,” 
   “Of course, Chie,” you whispered, running your fingers through her hair.
   At this point, you would have asked if Chie would let you inside her house. But you did not care about that right now. All you were thinking of was hugging Chie and never letting go. You were almost tearing up just thinking of the fact that you had been in a relationship with Chie over a long distance for months. It had been months where you two could not even have your first kiss or any affection. 
   And here you are now. Hey, you (unfortunately) might not be in Japan for too long, but it was better than not visiting at all. As long as you were able to spend every single second with your girlfriend, you were as happy as they could be.
-
(**) lowkey feel bad about hurting yosuke like this, but i felt like i just had to LMAO 
19 notes · View notes
vanaera · 5 years ago
Text
The Heart Holiday | Act 2 (1/2) | myg
Tumblr media
Synopsis: Valentine’s Day is declared as an official holiday. However, private companies’ standards dictate it’s only for the people who are currently in a relationship. Unluckily for Y/N, she doesn’t have this year’s PRS’ (Proof of Relationship Status) “in a relationship” box ticked – the only ticket out she can have to enjoy one paid week of holiday leave away from her hellish job. And more unfortunately for Y/N, everyone around her is oh so conveniently currently committed in a relationship. Except for one person: Min Yoongi, Y/N’s biggest critic in every pitch meeting, the picky guy who always picks on her, and the most annoying jerk of the century. Desperate for that holiday leave, Y/N strikes Yoongi up with an offer: Fake date each other two weeks before February 14, just enough time for the Department of Relationship Management (DRM) to consider processing their PRSs. After Valentine’s Day, they will go back to their own ways and never speak about whatever that may happen during the plan. Good, plain, and simple. That is until, Yoongi uncharacteristically oh so enthusiastically agrees to Y/N’s offer, leaving her thinking that she may have bitten something too much more than she can chew.
Characters: Yoongi x Female Reader
AU/ Trope: Office AU (Creatives manager!myg x PA!reader), enemies to lovers, fake dating
Genre: fluff, angst, comedy (the triple t(h)reat)
Wordcount: 24k
Warnings: Just lots of cursing because of two characters who won’t stop fighting (PG-15 Rating)
A/N | I cut Act 2 into two parts because it has become enormously long. Expect the next part of Act 2 next week!
prev  |  next | series masterlist
               The irony did not escape Y/N that she’s wringing her hands non-stop since yesterday all because of a simple meeting. It’s not because Nancy Kim arranged it. She’s probably holding a champagne glass while yelling at room service in some posh hotel in Paris. No, Y/N is anxious not because of Nancy. Instead, it’s because of a meeting in a coffee shop with her supposed ticket-out from work: The Despicable Mean Yoongi.
               Y/N has handled every meeting she’s been invited to down to a T. Being Nancy’s PA for over two years and a half has done her good in learning how to manage the communication in a business setting among professionals who may more often than not, become unprofessional. Being Nancy’s PA means she has to be the boss’ human-filter for incoming human-bullshits. An investor wanted to pull out? Y/N can appease them with a quick but convincing rundown of Travel Loca’s steadying growth. The laptop suddenly hangs while Nancy is currently reporting to their business partners? Y/N knows some troubleshooting techniques to quickly get the gadget running again. The rich and flavorful coffee granules Nancy saves for important guests have run out right during a meeting with the said guests? Y/N has a speed of a 60-year old Asian grandma who can speed-walk through a 5 km marathon to make up for her legs’ lack of vertical length.  Y/N likes to believe she’s got the patience of a meditating monk, the wisdom of a quick-thinking electrician, and the perseverance and resilience of a cockroach. If universities had a bachelor in meetings program, Y/N would probably graduate summa cum laude, easily outshining her cum laude standing in BA Mass Communication.
               However, all of that goes down to drain the moment Y/N attended the same meeting as Min Yoongi for the very first time.
               It was a Thursday in March of 2019. Y/N’s not sure of the exact date. All she remembers is that it had to be a Thursday. That meeting was the wick that started the chain of her unfortunate Thursdays.
               Sure, Min Yoongi got on Y/N’s “off” side the moment she first met him in the new table set up beside hers. But even if Y/N thinks he’s one hell of an arrogant bastard, a 24/7 picky prick, and a condescending narcissist, Y/N still left a breathable room in her mind for Yoongi to disprove her assumptions.
               And Yoongi burned up that room into ash that Thursday meeting.
               “Since we’re done with the weekly reports of the Creatives and the Marketing, let’s go to the Writing Department,” Nancy leans back in her black swivel chair. She flips through the pages of the department’s report, sparing a glance once in a while to the department’s representative of the day, Lee Soojung.
               The rustle of the papers almost becomes the white noise in the tensely silent conference room. Nancy always had a stiff authoritarian aura that induces anyone to be constantly on their toes around her. Her intimidating effect on her employees doesn’t seem to wear off even if the latter had been in Travel Loca since day one. Soojung herself has been in the company one month after Travel Loca’s establishment. Yet, here she is, nervously biting on her lip as her feet shake under the table.
               Y/N’s glad Nancy’s chair isn’t set far back enough for her to see Soojung’s jittering legs, or else Nancy will go at the “confidence you should have in work in order to stay” sermon again. Y/N first heard that “speech” (it counts so because Nancy almost spoke for twenty-minutes straight) in her first two months in the company, during a meeting where Nancy spoke about Steven’s potential to have a higher position if he could be more confident. And just like Nancy’s words, Steven did indeed climb the hierarchy after being more confident in presenting his works. He’s now the head of the Creative’s Team and even someone Y/N can say Nancy has accountable respect for. Y/N learned a lot from that speech. But having Nancy repeat it again whenever she sees someone who’s insecure in talking about their work? It slowly loses its charm.
               Y/N loses her tight grip on her notebook. It’s understandable why everyone has their hackles raised high now. Nancy is currently judging one of their department’s progress and if something is not up to par, another excruciating hour of Nancy’s “speeches” is awaiting punishment. Except, Y/N knows Nancy. With her absorbed attention to the report, indicated by the longer time her eyes spend on the department’s drafts instead of Soojung, Y/N knows Nancy is satisfied with their work.
               Y/N leans back in her chair and releases a sigh. It’s been a while since she’s been in a meeting without Nancy scaring off an employee out of their wits. This momentary peace, however, is shattered when she feels a sharp poke on her shoulder.
               “Hey, what’s happening?”
               Y/N rolls her eyes. With an additional P.A., comes an additional table next to her station, an additional work tablet to coordinate with hers, and an additional seat in the conference room next to her. All of these would be okay to Y/N if the additional P.A. is not as much of a douche as Yoongi.
               Nevertheless, Y/N shifts in her seat to lean closer to Yoongi and whisper to his ear, “Nancy’s deliberating the Writing Department’s work.”
               Yoongi raises a brow, “Then why is Soojung shaking over there like a shivering dog kicked to the curb?”
              Y/N tries hard not to let her temper get the better of her. Yoongi’s only been in Travel Loca for one fucking week. How could he dare to describe his senior in such an insulting way? Y/N closes her eyes and says, “Because, Soojung is the representative of the department right now. And from what I’ve heard, most of the drafts were also written by her because most of her subordinates’ articles were too…raw for next month’s issue.
               Yoongi squints, “Soojung? As in Lee Soojung wrote most of them?”
               Y/N couldn’t understand why Yoongi is so perplexed as if he can’t believe what he just heard. Y/N cannot help but glare at him, “Yoongi, Soojung has been one of Travel Loca’s long-time writers. Of course, she’s already mastered the nitty-gritty of what Nancy wants for an issue. And look, Nancy is satisfied with her work. Otherwise, she would have already thrown their drafts across the table.”
               “Are you kidding me?” Yoongi whispers louder, “Have you read Soojung’s works? They all sound cardboard cut-outs of every travel magazine out there. Could be mistaken even as a feature in a newspaper instead of a magazine. Heck, they can’t even make me want to travel anywhere. They all sound like a scammer real estate agent except she’s telling me to unnecessarily spend a lot on plane tickets and hotel reservations and pretend to have a nice vacation when I know I most probably would not.”
               Y/N’s jaw drops, “Are you for real? You can’t just downgrade Soojung’s works! She wouldn’t stay this long here if Nancy didn’t find her works satisfactory. And look, even right now, Nancy is pretty much okay with it!”
               Yoongi tilts his head, “Nancy, Nancy, Nancy. Everything is about Nancy now, huh?”
               “Of course! Nancy is the boss! She gets to decide what’s okay or not for publishing!” Y/N rolls her eyes and finally lets out a scoff, “Why do you have to judge something that’s out of your expertise anyway? You don’t write. And I bet even if you try your best to, you can’t produce something better than even half of Soojung’s articles.”
               Yoongi lets out a humorless chuckle, “I don’t write because I don’t want to write. What about you? You act all-mighty judgmental of what articles are satisfactory or not. You even rant to Mina about writing a story you’ve been thinking about countless of times—especially the story about that Write and Backpack Trip Club you speak about again and again. And yet, you don’t even write anything all.”
               What the ever-living fucking audacity of this astounding jerk of an asshole—!
               “Okay, I like these drafts. Not the best we’ve had but pretty above passable for next month’s issue,” Nancy places the folder back on the table, “But, we’re quite short on stories. The Daily Pen reviewed our issues as promising but lacking a few stories to make our monthly themes more, quote-unquote ‘solid.’ And so, I’m thinking of expanding our usual count of nine to twelve stories for the next three months. Try to check if The Daily Pen’s suggestion may help increase our reader count as well as positive feedback from our reviewers. So,” Nancy places her clasped hands on the table, “does any of you have a story to share? Or any ideas? We can still rush the Writing Department for two or three more articles.”
               The room goes immediately silent. No one shakes their legs. No one taps their nails on the onyx conference table. No one skims through their reports. Everyone suddenly makes the floor-to-ceiling windows the most interesting object to stare at.
               Until the silence gets broken by Nancy herself.
               “Oh, Yoongi, what’s your story?”
               Y/N whips her head to her side. Yoongi is looking at her funny. She mouths ‘what the fuck are you trying to do?’ but Yoongi just smirks. He meets Nancy’s gaze, “I don’t have a story but I know someone who has: Y/N.”
               Everyone’s attention on the windows was now shifted to Y/N. Soojung shifts in her seat, feet no longer jittering, eyes curiously pinned on Y/N. The rest of her co-workers’ eyes are just pleading for her to give what Nancy likes to finally end this meeting. Y/N has never felt this much attention focused on her until her cum laude awarding in her graduation. Sure, having some attention felt nice. There are times when people really enjoy the spotlight, some even needing it—the pleasure of feeling being wanted and treated precious. But Y/N doesn’t want attention laced with risk—the risk of embarrassment, of disappointment, especially from someone Y/N has looked up to as her “writing idol” for years. But then, this could be an opportunity for her skills to get recognized by Nancy so she can finally leave her P.A. station and transfer her boxes to the Writing Department.  Y/N wrings her hands together before quickly placing them behind her back.
               “U-um, I have a s-story about the nine places broke college students usually go to for a backpacking trip.”
              “And what are these places?”
               “Um,” Y/N gulps, “mountains and hiking trails—N-no, I mean, places like unseen from the popular media, but places that may be popular to the locals. Like man-made hiking parks installed near the cliffy side of a mountain. ‘Cliffy’ because it looks like a cliff, but it’s not actually a cliff. It’s just a mountainside that’s steep enough to look like a cliff. A-and cool hangout places with aesthetically-pleasing but cheap restaurants. The-the-there are also beaches that usually have few visitors that don’t charge hefty on their entrance fee. T-they’re very affordable and I think we can do like a top-nine-ranking thing to make a recommendation list of these, as I know a few college orgs that have already created great itineraries—”
               “My bad, Nancy, I’m gonna take back what I said.”
               What just—Y/N turns to her right, to look at the man that’s suddenly cut her off, but Yoongi’s eyes are trained to Nancy as he says, “I don’t think Y/N has a story yet. I’m sorry, I’ve been mistaken.”
               “Apology accepted,” Nancy dismissively waves a hand. She turns her swivel chair back towards the conference table, “I’m glad you immediately stopped your co-P.A. before we get to hear her…story.”
               Y/N doesn’t remember much of what happened after that. She just slumped back on her seat, ears fading out the rest of her surroundings into white noise. When everyone has finally stood from their seats, their respective departments’ reports clutched in their hands, Y/N’s still unmoving on her seat. She could only give a tight smile as each representatives-of-the-day passed and gave her apologetic smiles. Even when Soojung neared her seat to give some reassurance, Y/N remained stone-still and just waved her off with a quick “It’s okay.” The hazy white noise only dissipates when Nancy stands up and taps Y/N’s shoulder, saying, “We’ve still got work to do.”
               Y/N nods and gathers her minutes and notebook before quickly following her boss. When she turns around to reach the lights switch, there’s no one left in the conference room. Yoongi has long left the room.
               Why did Yoongi recommend Y/N in the first place when he’s just gonna take back his recommendation? Is he just fucking around with her? To prove that she cannot write her own article? What did Y/N ever do to him, but internally judge him in her mind, to be publicly humiliated like this? Especially in front of Nancy! Y/N gets the answers to these questions in the two months that followed with the goddamned prick of a man lazing around her station: Yoongi hates her for no reason and he’s doing everything he can to sabotage her career. He proves this conclusion again and again as he messes up Y/N’s schedules for Nancy, refuses to coordinate like an immature prepubescent boy, and criticizes her for every story proposal, story idea, word choice, heck even pronunciation, in every pitch meeting Y/N attends.
               None of Y/N’s assumptions can ever be truer than her description of Min Yoongi: one hell of an arrogant bastard, a 24/7 picky prick, and a condescending narcissist who thinks he’s the only person viable for greatness just because he magically manages to not pay the consequences of his misdeeds.
               And today, Y/N jots down “unprofessionally late” to her list of descriptions for the man as she glances at her watch and deduces 15 minutes have passed since their agreed meeting time. Will Yoongi stand her up even after agreeing to her offer? Y/N doesn’t know and she’s starting to not care anymore. From the start, she knew going with this idea will only end up worse than bad. It’s always gonna end up worse than bad when it comes to Yoongi. Y/N’s no longer gonna be surprised. She has numerous dating apps installed on her phone for back-up plans anyway—
               “Hey, sorry I’m late,” Y/N looks up from her notebook and sees Yoongi pulling a chair in front of her.
               She stops wringing her hands.
DAY 1 – January 26; Sunday
               Y/N sips on her milkshake as she encircles the date on the calendar of her notebook, “So today’s January 26. This will mark the first day of our two weeks so we can make it to February 9, Sunday, the last day of PRS applications in the DRM.”
               Yoongi nods as he sips on his iced Americano.
               “And then—”
               “Wait, what does PRS mean again?”
               Y/N’s hand stills, “You seriously don’t know what PRS means?”
               “Obviously not, since I’m asking about it,” Yoongi deadpans, “I wouldn’t ask something I already know, you know? It’s not like me to be illogical—”
               “Okay, fine,” Y/N closes her eyes and purses her lips, “I will explain it as long as you shut up for just a minute and let me talk.”
              Yoongi tilts his head and Y/N takes it as his cue of agreement. She sighs as she flips a page on her notebook and writes “The Heart Holiday” on the header. “Okay, so you already know that The Heart Holiday guarantees anyone who’s in a relationship a work-free, full-paid vacation leave during the week of Valentines. This year, it’s gonna be from February 9 to 14. Now, to get the viability for that vacation leave, the DRM—Department of Relationship Management—"
              “You don’t have to tell me what DRM means. I already know that.”
              Y/N eyes Yoongi and blinks at him. Slowly. “Didn’t I tell you to let me talk for a minute? You’re asking me what’s with PRS and I’m giving you an answer right now.”
              “Sorry,” Yoongi mutters, far from being apologetic with his growing smirk on his face.
               Y/N closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, “Anyway, the DRM issues PRS or ‘Proof of Relationship Status.’ The PRS indicates your civil status.  Single, married, divorced, separated and widowed—the basics. What’s only new is the addition of “in a relationship” status, made effective by the DRM in 2015, the same year the department was established.  It was initially for the DRM to track the people’s progress in their love lives to better monitor any improvement in the country’s birth rates. Now it’s used for applications for the Heart Holiday.”
               “Seems like the government is desperate for everyone to make babies,” Yoongi snorts over his straw.
               “With a global declining birth rate and continuous decline of immigrants, of course, the government is gonna be desperate. Economic analysts say it’s because countries are afraid of risking their also-declining birth rates. But I think It’s got to do more with the growing discrimination of immigrants. Numerous blockheads of government officials are still holding onto the archaic nonsensical ‘conspiracy theory’ as the reason behind their irrational hatred of immigrants. Anyway,” Y/N draws a bullet below ‘PRS,’ “Everyone’s default PRS will be ‘single’ until they reach 18 and apply for a PRS-change to ‘in a relationship.’  As long as you’re 18 and above, you are viable for ‘in a relationship’ PRS-change.”
               Yoongi slices through his sandwich, “Why 18? Do only 18-and-above-year-olds have the right to be in a relationship?”
               Y/N sputters, “You seriously don’t know? Do you ever read any updates on our new laws?”
               “I told you,” Yoongi mumbles over his sandwich, “I don’t know that’s why I’m asking you. And, first off, you’re the one who tied me up in this deal. It’s only logical to ask about what I’m getting myself into before I fully commit to anything.”
               “‘Fu-fully commit’?” Y/N gawks, “So you’re not yet serious about this? You told me two days ago you’re in on my plan!”
               “Yeah, I am in your plan. I am in at the beginning of your plan. Not at the middle or end of it.”
               Y/N slams her hands on the table, “Then why the hell did you even agree to my offer if you’re not even serious in taking it seriously?!”
               “I agreed so I get to decide if I can make my exit before things get un-exit-able or if I can push through with your plan. Which is what I’m doing now. Weighing the pros and cons,” Yoongi leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, “Y/N, you need me in this plan. Not the other way around. So I get to have the upper hand here. And by the looks of it, this offer is starting to look exit-able.”
               Y/N tongues her cheek. She could feel red hot flames of rage tongue the confines of her throat. Min Yoongi cannot play her like this when she practically sacrificed her self-esteem and self-preservation when she proposed him this offer. He can’t just pull the “who needs who” card when he’s also going to benefit from this deal. Nevertheless, Y/N puts a lid on that rage before it can climb up and lap at her brain. She can’t let her temper get the better of her when she still needs Yoongi to fully commit to her plan. Think of this as delayed gratification, Y/N. It’s either suck up Yoongi’s bullshit and enjoy the holidays, or rejoice in calling him off but suffer Nancy’s workload during the holidays.
               Y/N sighs and continues on the diagram she was forming on her notebook while taking a bite from her pasta platter, “Going back, what was your question again?”
               “Why do only 18-year-olds and above get to have the ‘in a relationship’ PRS? What about 16-year-old high school couples? Are they not allowed to be in a relationship?”
               Y/N tries not to cringe at the nonsense of his question, “Minors are allowed to date—as long as it’s not a pedophilic relationship, of course. Just puppy love and all that. But they don’t get to have the PRS because they won’t even need it. PRS is only used for social security, healthcare benefits, and loan applications. Obviously, they’re not yet old enough to legally work to qualify for these applications. And also, education establishments are already ensured to have one week off during the Heart Holiday—including the school’s staff, whether or not they have ‘in a relationship’ ticked for that holiday.”
              “Hmm, then what happens in a PRS-change if you got married?”
              “The couple doesn’t have to go to DRM anymore for a PRS change. The DRM automatically changes it because the marriage certificate will go through them the same time it goes through the court. Whether a couple applied for ‘in a relationship’ before marrying each other, or if they didn’t, it doesn’t matter. DRM will automatically change their status from ‘in a relationship’ to ‘married’ or ‘single’ to ‘married.’ So when you have the PRS ‘married’ ticked, you’re automatically viable to avail the Heart Holiday, too, because you, by logic, are in a relationship if you’re already married.”
              Yoongi nods, “then what happens if you’re widowed, divorced, or separated?”
              “PRS-changes to ‘widowed’ and ‘divorced’ works the same way as ‘married.’ The DRM automatically changes them to these statuses when a death certificate is filed or divorce papers go through court. However, that means these status grant the people who have them no chance to avail the Heart Holiday anymore like single people. The DRM only recognizes people’s current—not recent— involvement in a relationship as the determining factor for the Heart Holiday’s benefits for ‘in a relationship’ PRS holders. With separated status, you need to go to DRM to apply the change of PRS from ‘married’ to ‘separated.’ Though this can be quite messy as DRM requires a lot of couples’ therapy for the couple before they can change the PRS. That’s why a lot of people suggest to just fake the annual interview of the DRM with your soon-to-be ex-partner for four years until you’re viable for the free divorce processing that comes only every four years in courts—or until you saved enough for an actual divorce.”
              “Why the hell does DRM fixate on separating couples and not on divorcing ones?” Yoongi frowns, “Are they blind? Both couples are breaking up their relationships. It’s the exact contrary to their goal of proliferating relationships.”
              “I know, right? It’s ridiculous,” Y/N shakes her head. “I’ve read a lot of critical essays against that separated and divorced PRS laws. And most of them say that DRM has no jurisdiction over divorce since money will be involved. That DRM wouldn’t attempt to hinder the cash flow to private law offices because of, you know, the government’s utter submission to large businesses and all that shit. Anyway, separated or widowed, you can apply for a PRS change to ‘in a relationship’ after six months. DRM states you need to heal first.”
              Y/N flips her notebook back onto the “Heart Holiday” page, “Now that I’ve educated you with the basics of PRS, let’s finally get down to what we will be doing.” Yoongi leans closer, setting his elbows on the wooden table. Y/N continues, “So, to change our ‘Single’ PRSs to ‘in a relationship,’ we need to have ten dates validated by DRM-approved establishments.”
              “Validated by what?”
              “DRM-approved establishments,” Y/N repeats, eyes turning into slits. “You don’t know date-site places have to go through the DRM? I get that you don’t know what PRS means. Just like how people use SIMs but don’t know they stand for ‘Subscriber Identity Module.’ I can also forgive you for the age technicalities of PRS since they were only updated last year. But for you not to know date sites—like this café—has to get approved by DRM first before it can stand as a business establishment? You’ve probably been single for a really looong time not to know this. Business requirements got changed the same time the DRM was established, Yoongi. Five years ago.”
              “I don’t know anything about this, okay? That’s why I’m asking you,” Yoongi also repeats. He sounds like a teacher reprimanding a student for asking a stupid question.
              Y/N smirks, “Oh, so it’s true then.”
              “What’s true?”
              The sight of utter confusion in Yoongi’s face makes Y/N smile to herself. She leans back in her chair, “Well…no one wants to date you.”
              “Excuse me,” Yoongi half-scoffs, half-sputters, “I’m single because I can’t find anyone worth losing some brain cells for.”
              “Ooh, says the man who I have seen eyeing Jeon Seoyeon beside my station for one whole year now but is too chicken to ask her out,” Y/N raises a brow. She tries not to make it look like she’s too enthralled to bring up this info. She wants to make Yoongi nervous she’s known about this Seoyeon thing for a while. However, she cannot help but let the smirk that’s been egging on her, grow on her face. Y/N doesn’t actually know anything about Seoyeon. She often forgets there’s also an employee stationed near her desk. It’s hard to recall a conversation she had with the business adviser that’s not work-related when there’s close to none. Y/N doesn’t even know if Soyeon has any associates she converses with other than her. Well to be fair, Nancy and work are enough to occupy Y/N’s focus for the day. She only knew something new about Soyeon when she hit up Mina last night for some counter-attack information on Yoongi. “A defense support should he piss me off,” as Y/N said.
              “Really?” Y/N’s eyes widen, “Yoongi actually has the heart to like someone in our office?”
              Mina nods, “I’m telling you right now. He’s into Seoyeon. From my cubicle, I’m sure I can see him definitely staring at Seoyeon. Break, lunch break, in-between working hours—it doesn’t matter. He just stands. And stares.”
              “How come you told me this only now?”
              “Because you don’t ask about Yoongi. You complain about him.” Y/N slaps her shoulder and Mina chuckles, “Fine, okay, I’ve only confirmed this last week when Jisoo sat with me and pointed out the same observation. You know I don’t just ask people about anybody should any drama arise about ‘Mina checking into everyone and scouring for some tea.’ I don’t want to be known ‘Mina the gossiper’ in the office. I’ve borne that title for 12 years in high school. I’m tired of that shit,” Mina waves off, “But you know?  After what Jisoo said, I know I had to ask. It’s not like only me and Jisoo have eyes. And that day proved it to me when everyone ‘round my cubicle said Yoongi’s indeed standing too long by your desk to look at someone beside your station—Seoyeon.” Mina grins, “you’ve finally got something on Yoongi, Y/N!”
              Hammurabi said “eye for an eye,” and so if someone pisses her off, Y/N should also piss them off. Yoongi’s been pissing her off for a while so it’s finally high-time Y/N also bare her canines.   Consulting Mina is definitely Y/N’s best decision so far ever since she thought about this shit-hole of a plan.
              “W-what?” Yoongi sputters, “I-I’m not into Seoyeon! I just find her…odd-looking for a civil lawyer. It’s weird to see Nancy have a business adviser. The Nancy Kim of all people? And Seoyeon, too! Especially with her rebellious vibe goin’ ‘round her multiple piercings and borderline appropriate-for-work punk outfits. She’s got her desk also awkwardly set up a foot from yours, making her look like a slave P.A. like you.”
              Y/N tries not to blow up at the red herring she just heard. She’s been arguing too long with Yoongi to know it’s his pathetic technique to change topics. Y/N’s not gonna skip on the chance card she used. “As if you don’t like her!”    
              Y/N scoffs, “I caught your eyes staring right beside my cubicle more than numerous times to put two and two together,” Y/N leans forward. She pins Yoongi with a stare, “Just admit you like her.”
              “I’m telling you I do not, okay?” Yoongi huffs, cheeks now growing pink under the lighting.
              “God, you obviously like her,” Y/N wheezes, “I finally confirmed something precious I can blackmail you with. Imagine everyone knowing ‘the great Min Yoongi’ is an immature prepubescent boy when it comes to girls he likes. Damn, do I have the fucking upper hand now, Min.”
              “You’ll only get to have that upper hand once you got your Valentine’s week canceled first,” Yoongi smirks, “Do I need to remind you I’m not yet fully in on your plan, sweetheart?”
              Y/N’s smile falls, “God, will you stop calling me that?”
              “No can do,” Yoongi patronizingly pouts at the syllable, “Not until you put down that douchey dictator-wannabe look on your face and just get down to the point before I could think of walking out right now.”
              “Okay, fine, Min,” Y/N sneers. She grabs her pen and writes on her notebook, this time, with much force that she’s sure Yoongi can hear from his place the squeaks of the ball-point pen on the paper, “SO AS I WAS SAYING, for your PRS to be changed to ‘in a relationship,’ DRM requires ten dates from their approved establishments. These establishments could be anything—a restaurant, an arcade, a cinema, a basketball game, a bar, an amusement park, etcetera. It’s indicated anyway in the establishment. You can see the pink and purple heart logo of the DRM in stickers on glass doors. Or in menus, like this,” Y/N pushes the café’s miniature menu-stand made of hardboard to Yoongi to show him the small print of the logo on its margin. “When a couple goes to that establishment for a date, they can ask for the shop to write them a document officializing their date. It’s called the date document. ‘This document confirms Park Junyoung and Lee Hwayoung have dated in our love-conducive establishment’ yaddah yaddah shit. Each approved establishment has a DRM seal. They press it on the document to validate their date. For example, look behind you.”
               Yoongi turns and looks at the young couple by the right end of the bar. The barista hands the two a pale pink envelope. The imprint of the heart-shaped logo of the DRM clearly engraved on the surface. The couple gives an appreciative smile to the barista before starting to head their way out.
               Yoongi turns back to Y/N, “So the envelopes must also be sealed?”
               “Yes, to ensure the couple won’t fake their dates.”
               “Then how do you know the first lines of these date documents?” Yoongi cocks a brow.
               “Because unlike you, I stay tuned to the local news and make sure I’m updated to law revisions. I can’t count on how many fingers the media has exposed DRM’s protocol-holes. Unlike someone out there who doesn’t know anything…,” Y/N looks at Yoongi. The man crosses his arms and gives her a bored look. Y/N looks back at her food and takes a bite from her platter, “Moving forward, aside from sealed 10 documents, a couple must also submit 10 printed accounts of the people around them that have witnessed their relationship. Unfortunately for us, we’re not self-employed. So we have to do the long way.”
              “Why? What’s the advantage of unemployed people?”
              “Self-employed people,” Y/N corrects. “They only need 10 accounts from any of their friends or family that have witnessed their relationship. Meanwhile, the DRM has overridden private company protocols and declared it is legally okay to date a co-worker. To ensure no one will abuse the benefits given by DRM to those in a relationship, private sectors agreed upon a standard for PRS-changes from single. Us employed are required to submit nine accounts from our co-workers, friends, or family, and one account from our supervisor, manager, or boss These accounts will be turned to the company’s HR Department to be analyzed. Then, they will be sealed in a magenta envelope with the DRM seal.” Y/N taps her pen on her notebook, “This special one account though depends on the company tradition. In Travel Loca, it is always Nancy who gets to write that one account. Even if Steven is the head of Creatives, or Mona is the supervisor of the marketing—it doesn’t matter. Nancy is the one who gets to write that account.”
              “But since Nancy is gone, that privilege is given to the next in the hierarchy—Ms. Teddy Park, the general supervisor,” Y/N looks at Yoongi, “This is where most of our fake dating comes into play.  Ms. Teddy is one hell of a hopeless romanticist.  Mina told me she has been continuously bugging Jisoo to sneak an HR confidential file and spill her some juicy office romance. And since it’s Valentines’, we’re gonna give Teddy what she wants.   Although it doesn’t take much to convince Teddy, we still can’t be too sure. Though I can bet most of our acting efforts will go for our co-workers. We only need eight more. I’ve already got Mina to cover one for us.”
              Yoongi hums and Y/N continues, “Lastly, after getting all of that, we go to the DRM for the final interview. They will ask us questions to counter-check the documents. We just need to act lovey-dovey and answer their questions as if we’ve known each other so, so well. When we pull it off, our PRSs are changed. Then, we can enjoy our work-free, full-paid Valentine’s week into the sunset.”
               Yoongi hums, “How are you so sure with this plan? How do you know we won’t mess up things? This is still a crime. We’re faking a fucking benefit.”
              “Oh, don’t be such a prude. Everyone does it.”
              “Are you sure ‘everyone’?”
              “Fine,” Y/N grits out, “everyone who is smart enough to study an easy-to-get benefit to know its loopholes.”
              “And you’re sure you know all the loopholes in this Heart Holiday program?”
              “Of course! Mina and I studied this for a whole year.” Y/N fixes her seat and clasps her hands together, “From the easiest places to get officialized dates to the last job’s boss rule on written accounts to the interrogation hacks at the DRM—we’ve got them all ironed out. Moreover, the DRM is lenient in approving PRS changes on the very last date of the February applications. We’re going to easily pass through! You don’t have to worry ‘bout getting caught! Look at us, Mina and I have been slipping by seamlessly for four years. Plus, we have Nancy off our backs this time so the accounts approval, the hardest of ‘em all, would be miraculously much easier to pull.”
              Yoongi nods. And then, silence ensues. Yoongi just blankly looks at Y/N. She purses her mouth and waits with bated breath. Hopefully, she did succeed convincing him to fully commit to her plan, right? He wouldn’t be in deep thought like this if he hasn’t taken into serious consideration the seamlessness of her plan, right? He’s just probably taking his time how to agree to her without sounding so appreciative of her because he’s Min Yoongi and Y/N knows he’d rather cut his arm than give her the credit she deserves—
              “So…you’ve been faking this benefit for four years?” Yoongi snickers, “My, I should have recorded this conversation. I just had a clear, clean-cut confession from a scammer.”
              “S-scam? Scammer?!” Y/N abruptly stands and Yoongi tries to pull her to sit back but Y/N only slaps his hand away, “You just fucking gone silent for a while to-to-to say that?! Are you an overgrown, ridiculous James Dean wanna-be rebel without a cause other than stupidity—who only picks on some words to make sense of everything?! You’re just like a boomer she-gossiper who only hears their friend’s child’s name and ‘engineer,’ in one sentence and she already expects that child to have a house and car when they’re only one year into the job while that hag’s been gossiping for over 36 years now and yet she still doesn’t have her own talk show!”
              Yoongi holds his hands up, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, chill, tiger. You don’t have to get so worked up—”
              “Who will not get worked up after getting accused of scamming?! When I didn’t even commit it! Yet!”
              “And right now you’re saying you’re willing to scam just to get that Valentine’s week off. How can I not accuse you when you just told me all that. In broad daylight. With many people passing by our table every second of the minute?”
              “I didn’t say I’m willing to scam,” Y/N says, irritably, “I’m just laying out the possibility that I might do it.”
              “Still doesn’t change the fact you’re a scammer.”
              “Yet,” Y/N corrects. “I can’t be someone I’ve never become yet.”
              “But you’re gonna go for it eventually, so you’re going to become a scammer, nonetheless,” Yoongi presses. “Why not grab the title already? It’ll cut you some slack from all the labeling-progress.”
              “You know what, you make so many hasty generalizations about everything as if you’ve got everything figured on your palm just by looking at something for one second,” Y/N says, narrowing her eyes at the man.
              “Just like you,” Yoongi tosses back, “You already generalized me as a coward man who can’t express himself like a prepubescent boy just because you saw me staring at something for like what, five minutes? You’re a real hypocrite, Y/N.”
              “I’m not a hypocrite because what I said is true! You like Seoyeon and you’re too much of a pussy to ask her out. If you’re not, then why are you here sitting down with me, of all people, to plan about faking having a significant other just in time for Valentine’s week?”
              Yoongi shuts his mouth and Y/N smiles, pleased with herself. Asking Mina for the Jeon Seoyeon card is definitely an ace move.
              “See? I’m right,” Y/N theatrically presses a hand on her temple, “Can we just cut to the bullshit and go on with the plan without having another unnecessary stupid argument breaking the flow? I can’t be always right all the time we argue or else my ego is gonna grow really big like that James Dean wanna-be manager of the Creatives Team.”
              Yoongi raises a middle finger. Y/N only laughs.
              “So, first things first,” Y/N flips her notebook onto the next page and writes on the paper, “So we can successfully fake our relationship, let’s get to know each other—”
              “But I already know you.”
              “No, you don’t,” Y/N snaps.
              “Yes, I do—wait,” Yoongi stops, “are you writing everything down on paper?”
              “Yes,” Y/N glares at him, “I’ve written ‘asshole,’ and ‘whiny prepubescent boy’ on your top descriptors.”
              “Then that confirms I do already know you.”
              “What do you mean?” Y/N asks, a mean scowl forming on her face.
              “It means that I know you,” Yoongi leans back on his seat and places his hands behind his neck. “You’re that kind of person who seriously writes every bit of her life as if not having something written down will cost her her life. Especially when it comes to plans. A plan is called a ‘plan’ for a reason, you know? Same as how humans can’t see their futures for a reason. But you still go and write every single thing you’re doing or about to do down to the littlest detail and when none of them works out in the sequence that you like, you start acting like it’s somebody else’s fault the world’s gonna end. See?” Yoongi suddenly leans forward and ghosts his hand over Y/N’s cheek. Y/N holds her breath, freezing up.
              Yoongi murmurs, “You’ve already got wrinkles on your face. And you’re just 25. I feel so sorry that your whole world revolves around being a P.A., that you start to P.A.-schedule your own life.”
              Y/N glowers and slaps Yoongi’s hand away. The man only laughs.
              “I write everything down because unlike you, I know how to commit to something and not fuck everything up—especially when it involves other’s lives. Of course, you wouldn’t understand this because you haven’t tried to actually put in the effort to make someone’s life easier—”
              “Hey, I’m putting in effort,” Yoongi interjects. “I’m committing to your plan right now.”
              “W-what?”
“I’m telling you, I’m fully in on your plan,” Yoongi closes his eyes and sighs, “Full blow. Beginning to end. Start to finish.”
              “You-you do? Are you really really sure—”
              “Look, if you’re suspicious, it’s fine. I could just totally leave now as I have more people to see this afternoon. It’s a weekend you know—”
              “Okay, fine! I’m happy you said that. Ecstatic. Peachy fucking keen. Totally. Thank you to the great, admirable Min Yoongi who just fucking saved the entire world,” Y/N rolls her eyes as she crosses her arm.
              “I like hearing that. Can you say that again?”
              “Only if you stop being a drama queen, cutting me off to say the most nonsensical stuff for one second and just listen to me so we can finally get the ball rolling.”
              “’Kay,” Yoongi makes an ‘okay’ sign with his hand and zips his lips. He grabs his iced Americano and takes a sip.
              Y/N internally releases a sigh of relief. She reaches for her notebook again. “As I was saying. We have to get to know each other so we know where to build on our fake relationship that would be believable to everyone. And the first way to get to know someone is through asking questions. So for my first question,” Y/N looks at Yoongi, “Other than your utter assholery to me, do you have a dark side?”
              “D-d-dark side?!” Yoongi sputters on his drink. Y/N distastefully eyes the trails of his drink that had made it down his chin but she makes no move to give him the stack of tissues that’s an inch from her elbow. Yoongi squints his eyes at her as he stands and grabs the tissues himself and places it on his side of the table. If he’s the slightest bit offended with Y/N wrinkling her nose at him, he makes it sure she knows it by rolling his eyes as he sits back down. Yoongi wipes the residues on his chin, “Out of all the questions to ask, why that?”
              “Because you get to know someone the best by knowing the versions of their selves that doesn’t make it out in the light of the day.”
              “That’s the reason why they’re called ‘dark sides’, you know. They’re not meant to be brought up in the public We’re in the public, Y/N—”
              “What’s your dark side, Min Yoongi?”
              “Fine,” Yoongi relents, “I have a dark humor. A humor so dark that whenever serious shits happen to me, I always laugh them off. So when I die right in the next second, say in a car accident, I got to laugh one last time right before my life ends. It’s my way saying ‘fuck you’ to life.”
              “Wow. I didn’t expect to hear something so dark like that,” Y/N mutters, “I was expecting you enjoying cracking everybody else’s mugs just like how you did to mine—Mina’s gift to me. In High School—last week.”
              “God, you do not really get over stuff do you?”
              “No, especially if it’s something so precious to me and someone just unceremoniously took it all away from me.”
              “Your mug’s still functional.”
              “It already has a crack on its lip!” Y/N shouts angrily. People turn to look at their table and their stinging stares wills Y/N to mumble “sorry.” She whips her head to Yoongi, “I’m still not over my mug, just so you know.”
              “I don’t know why it’s suddenly about your mug. You asked for my dark side. I gave you one.” Yoongi shrugs. He places down his drink and leans forward in his seat, “Now, Y/N, what’s your dark side?”
              “M-me?”
              “Yes, who else am I talking to?” Yoongi sarcastically snaps.
              “Well, I, uh...uh, dip my steak in mayo,” Y/N holds her chin up.
              “You dip your steak into what?” Yoongi chortles, “That’s your dark side?”
              “Yes, not everything has to do with morbid things and death, you know? Things don’t have to be dark to be deep,” Y/N informs.
              “Yeah, and unconventionally dipping your steak into mayo is deep.”
              “People find it abominable that I dip almost everything into any kind of mayo. That’s why it’s a dark side. And it makes me deep because dipping my food into mayo makes me happy and I’m not agoing to change that to fit into anyone’s expectations. All I’m saying is that I’m a happy person because I know what I want—”
              “Hi ma’am, sir,” a waiter hesitantly holds up a hand and gives a tight smile, as if to apologize for cutting in the conversation, “I see you’ve already cleared your plates. Would you want some dessert?”
              Y/N turns to her side and sees perspiration dotting the hairline of the waiter. He must have been standing way too long by their table that he had to cut the conversation so he can finally go back to the service crew area. Y/N gives an apologetic smile as she nods and helps the waiter clear their table.
              “Would you want some dessert, ma’am?” the waiter asks.
               “Yes! I would have some uh…” Y/N holds her chin as her eyes scan over to the miniature menu-stand. She remembers she’s craving something sweet today, probably to flush out all the bitterness on her tongue that Yoongi had easily unwelcomingly induced. However, she doesn’t know what it is. “Uhm, how about the peach mango parfait? No, that sounds too sweet. The choco chip oatmeal cookie, then? Sorry, not that, I just realized I don’t want to eat something too grainy today. The blueberry cheesecake? Wait, I changed my mind. It’s too expensive. I think I’ll have the apple pie instead—oh wait, no, I know—”
               “Can you just give us two slices of blueberry cheesecake? Thank you.” Yoongi hands a card toward the waiter. The waiter bows and goes to the counter. Within just a minute he returns and places two slices of blueberry cheesecake on their table. He hands back Yoongi’s card and leaves.
               Yoongi drives a fork down the soft pastry as he looks at Y/N, “Wow, you do know what you want.”
               Y/N scowls as she cuts her cake, “Today’s an outlier. I’m just pressured to suddenly make a decision, you know.”
               “Fine, fine, whatever you say,” Yoongi waves off.
               Y/N sets down her fork, “At least I’m a happy person. Unlike you.”
               “I’m a happy person, too,” Yoongi glares at her, “You, what, just generalized because I like dark humor and joking about death, I’m already an unhappy person? Who’s the one making hasty generalizations now?”
               “Who else but an unhappy person would want joke about death?”
               “Look, just because I talked about death doesn’t mean I’m a sad person.  I’m just saying, that in case life goes the wrong way, I’m going to at least enjoy it. Meanwhile, you’ll be left feeling unhappy because you’re too busy being,”  Yoongi quotes in the air, “‘happy’ with your plans to figure out the uncertainties of life.”
               “What’s with the quotation marks?” Y/N glowers, “You do not know me that much to know what I’m feeling. You don’t also get to say what I am feeling. Only I can do. And right now, I’m telling you  I am happy. You know what, maybe you should quit your job in the Creatives and transfer to a Judge’s office. You’ll know what it’s like to finally have a job that matches your expertise—judging people. It’s not like you’re even great in your current job.”
               “You say that with so much contempt. I thought you said you’re happy. From what I know, happy people don’t do that,” Yoongi smiles.
               Y/N glares at Yoongi. She closes her eyes and lets out a deep breath. “Can we move on to the next question?”
               “Okay, fine, my turn. What’s your take on enemies becoming lovers at the end of every rom-com film?”
               “W-what?” Y/N’s eyes shot up, “Are you for real now?”
               “What?”
               “How dare you hit on me?” Y/N scoffs, “You think this is a fucking rom-com film and we’re the enemies who’ll become lovers?! Great. Your head cannot even be much fucking bigger than it already is now.”
               “Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Yoongi wheezes, “What the hell are you saying? I’m just asking you what’s your take on enemies becoming lovers because I heard you last time talking with Mina that you love romcoms. You-you just assumed that I am, what, hitting on you? Just because we hate each other and I brought up the enemies-to-lovers trope? Those two things are not even related! Goddamn, maybe it’s you who should check your ego.”
               Y/N grits out, “How can I not assume? You just suddenly brought up a fucking romantic topic and right now, we’re in a romantic context. We’re ‘dating.’ In this café. Or how it’s supposed to be like. How then can I not relate those two together? And to answer the question, I think that enemies to lovers trope is complete bull-crap.”
               “How did you say so?”
               “You can’t just suddenly grow romantic interest in someone who hates your guts! Sure people say ‘love’ has four letters but so do ‘hate,’ that’s why the popular crap tag ‘you tend to love the person you hate’ is born. But ‘L’ is not ‘H’ and ‘O’ is not ‘A’ and the same goes for ‘V’ and ‘T.’ They’re both words that stand at the opposite spectrum.”
               “But they both end in ‘E.’”
               “So?” Y/N tilts her head, “they still don’t mean the same. ‘Live’ and ‘die’ both end in ‘E’ but they mean the opposite of each other. Just like ‘love’ and ‘hate.’
               “I’m just saying that ‘love’ and ‘hate’ must have, at least, some form of connection through the letter ‘E.’ Not a connection based on their literal orthographic appearance. Just like ‘live’ and ‘die’ share some similarities. They both had to do with life and people experiencing taking a breath—their first one and their last one.”
               “So, what then is this connection ‘love’ and ‘hate’ have with each other?”
               “They both had something to do with a person constantly drawn to a characteristic of another person. I find it both endearing and aggravating.”
               “Are you hearing yourself right now?” Y/N snorts, “‘Drawn to a characteristic’? Constantly? How can you be constantly drawn to something that you hate? That doesn’t make sense. When you hate something, you want to cut off any association you have with that thing or else you’ll be upset 24/7. That’s what healthy people do.”
               “But the fact that you recognize that something you want to cut away means there is some unique element that sticks out enough—if not everyday—whenever you see it. It sticks out because what you usually hate reflects something you also hate in yourself. Let’s say you love the loyalty of your friends to you. You’re drawn to that loyalty because it reflects your own value for loyalty, which, then, makes you love these people. And to be clear, when I say ‘love’ it doesn’t only mean romantically. It can also be the one found in friendships and family or even in things you do.”
               “You don’t have to clarify what ‘love’ is to me. I know what it is,” Y/N spits. “What do you take me for? Someone who skipped the Personal Development class of 10th grade? I fucking aced that class. First off, how can you be drawn to a characteristic you hate when all you ever want is for it to disappear? You can’t be drawn to something you wish to be gone! And, hate cannot exist in any form of love. Sure, you can get upset, frustrated, or angry at your mother, friend, or significant other. But you can’t hate them if you really love them.  When you hate something, you stay away from it. You avoid it. You hurt it. You want to see it suffer. And you don’t do any of these things to something you love. ‘Love’ not ‘loved.’ Because if you’re already in the past tense of that L-verb, then you can hate them all you want.”
               “You’re not getting my point,” Yoongi groans, “I’m saying there’s a connection.”
               “Well, I don’t get it.” Y/N crosses her arms.
               “Fine, let me make you an example. What do you hate?”
               “You.”
               “Wow, what a great start we have,” Yoongi chuckles. “Okay, so you hate me. What’s my characteristic that you hate most?”
               “Your humongous ego you can’t even fit in your head. You thinking you can get away with anything. You simplifying everything as if they’re so easy when it’s not. You thinking you’re always right. You being so highly regarded in the office when clearly, you don’t deserve it because your climb in the hierarchy was just out of pure luck. In short, you’re overrated. You—”
               “Okay, we have enough material to work on, thank you very much. So, from what I could see, you hate me because I have a better life than you.”
               “What the—you really do have a big fucking ego! So big that it also blinds your eyes from seeing the reality. You’re delusional, Yoongi!”
               “Okay, that’s a fallacy. A two actually. Ad hominem and hasty generalizations. Which had me thinking you’ve always been pulling these two in every bit of your argument, whenever you can—”
               “Just like you!”
               “Well, I’m not like you! I’m not someone whose life revolves around her boss so much that I’d let her treat me like a dog and have me running from the world’s end to end just to satisfy her fucking brat of a daughter. And yet at the end of the day, that dog still can’t understand maybe it’s her master and her not standing up for herself that’s the fucking problem. She barks up on the wrong tree and blames everyone else for her misery instead of fucking working on herself!”
               “So, I’m supposed to be that dog?”
               “Yes!”
               “So, I’m a dog now. I’m a fucking dog. I’m that fucking dog you just—you know what, you’ve already ridiculed me and my work again and again in the office. You didn’t have to do it here, where every single stranger just heard what I apparently am in my work,” Y/N stands up and gathers her notebooks and sling bag. “If you’re just going to ridicule everything about me and what I say during the duration of these ‘dates,’ then I will just have to find someone else who’s going to take me seriously. Goodbye, Yoongi,” Y/N gives one last flippant look at the man and then she walks off.
Tumblr media
DAY 2 – January 27; Monday
              Mina drops her hands to her side. For the first time, she cannot bring herself to stand up and switch on her metal portable radio. It’s break right now. Kim Seokjin’s voice should already be filling the room of the Accounting Department. But all Mina hears is a pin-drop of silence followed by a heavy sigh.
              That is until a loud scream breaks from her throat.
              “Yoongi called you a what?!”
              Y/N stands up and immediately presses a hand over her friend’s mouth, “Shh! You don’t have to be so loud. I don’t want everyone to hear us—”
              Mina slaps away her friend’s hand, “How can you tell me to be silent?! Right now, when Yoongi just called you a dog!”
              “Geez, you don’t have to repeat it—”
              “And the worst thing is, you just walked out on him!”
              “What?”
              Mina huffs, “Y/N, you cannot just let a man call you a dog and get away with it. You should have screamed back that he’s a shrew’s dick! Not only is he a literal dick, he also has the smallest dick!”
              “Wait, why is this now about Yoongi’s dick?”
              “Y/N,” Mina claps her hands on her friend’s shoulders, “this is about Yoongi’s dick. He thinks he’s so big but he’s just a pesky, miniature pest. His dick represents his ego. So if you said he has a dick of a shrew, you’re metaphorically blowing off his ego. And to the public, his dick.”
              Y/N wriggles herself from Mina’s hold and puffs, “Mina, will you stop going on and on about Yoongi’s dick? I don’t wanna hear about it and for God’s sake, you’ve already got Mark’s—”
              “How can I not?! He just called you a dog! Not even a bitch!” Y/N winces but Mina continues, “Like, okay, literally he’s pertaining to a bitch because you’re a girl and he called you a dog. And that would have been more okay because calling a girl a ‘bitch’ can be a petty insult everyone knows means about how annoying a girl can be. But, a dog?! Y/N, he’s reducing you to an animal! A dog, Y/N, a dog! An animal!”
              “Will you stop saying Y/N and dog in one sentence?!” Y/N snaps, “I’m the one who should be furious! I’m the one who got called a dog!”
              Mina shuts up. She immediately pulls her hands back to her sides, “Sorry. It’s hard not to violently react when my bestfriend is getting humiliated like that. Publicly even.”
              Y/N sighs, “Yeah, I know. It’s just…repeating it again and again makes me want to tear up.”
              Mina holds Y/N’s hand, “I’m sorry.”
              “I’m sorry, too,” Y/N says, “I didn’t mean to blow up. It’s just—Min Yoongi has insulted me in more ways than one but not like this. God, I’ve never been this humiliated before in my life.”
              Mina sighs and closes her eyes, “I knew this would happen. I told you to not push through with this plan but you didn’t listen. God, I wish I didn’t bring up that Yoongi is single. Of course, I should have known the moment I said that option, your mind wouldn’t stop mulling over it. If I hadn’t brought that up, then maybe you wouldn’t have even gone into that goddamn cafe.”
              “Hey, Mina,” Y/N tilts her friend’s chin to face her, “this is not your fault. This is Yoongi’s fault. And yeah, I should have listened to you. But we’re here now. We can’t undo what’s already happened. At least, this is a learning experience for me not to go with my gut when I already knew from the get-go it will turn out badly.”
              Mina nods, “You’re right...But what about the Heart Holiday? Who will you go with now?”
              Y/N releases a frustrated sigh, “I honestly don’t know. I’ll probably have to resort to desperate measures again. If things come to worst, I will stand in front of shops and hold out flyers just like the convenience sampling I did in college.  I’ll settle for the first decent person I can find. Just anyone at this point, I’m fine. As long as it’s not Min Yoongi.”
              “Yeah, as long as it’s not Min Yoongi.”
                Except that is easier said than done.
              “Uhh, what are you doing?”
               Y/N looks up from her crouched position under the table of her desk, frozen in surprise. Except for her index which manages to sneak three more swipe right’s.
               Yoongi stands on his tip-toes, peering over the cubicle to get a better glimpse of the crouched woman. When he sees a profile picture of a foreign man on the phone, his eyes shoot up and meet Y/N’s.
               “Is that Tinder?”
               After insulting and humiliating her publicly, this is the first thing Yoongi says? He doesn’t have the nerve to even apologize? Y/N rolls her eyes as she slowly crawls back onto her seat, “Well, thank you for confirming your eyes work, dumbass.”
               “Nevermind,” Yoongi waves off,  “Come into the Creatives’ Office. Right now,” He turns his back to her and heads the opposite hallway. He glances back at her one more time. “Right now,” he repeats with a glare, before disappearing through the glass door.
               Y/N grumbles, picking up her notebook and pen. She just had her beloved station all to herself for five minutes only and now she’s going back to her own circle of hell, her temporary cubicle in the Creatives’ office. Unlike her previous encounters with Yoongi, Y/N didn’t expect that a temporary cubicle will not spike up her blood pressure to skyscraper-heights. Instead, that cubicle roasts her ass slowly as if she’s some rotisserie chicken.
              Y/N’s cubicle is set against the periwinkle-painted wall, directly in front of Yoongi’s desk. All would be normal like it usually is if the Creatives’ cubicles are actually cubicles. Their cubicles have their front boards built so low that they could be mistaken for standard office tables. Mina said they were like that since the Creatives’ monitors are so large that they would be impractical for standard-sized cubicles. And a gossip among the Accounting three years ago said Nancy has to cut some funds for the Creatives’ interior designing since their high-quality model of computers and cutting-edge apps are enough to compensate for it. Still, it’s not enough for Y/N to forgive this horrible choice of furniture when she has to sit in it and endure every millisecond of her work time seeing Yoongi’s stupid face.
              Y/N feels a prick on her ass when she sees Yoongi’s half-lidded eyes as he clicks through his templates, looking like work never stresses him out. There’s gas-stove-like heat on her eyelids as she sees Yoongi teach his subordinates their drafted designs with a proud smirk on his face as if he’s the only one capable of coming up with those designs that are already magazine-standardized. Y/N feels her eyes have been doused with searing oil whenever Yoongi meets her eyes and gets the audacity to give her a challenging stare. And when Yoongi fucking decides to wink at her, Y/N could feel her eyes completely and so painfully burst on-fire. All these four occurrences happen on a day-to-day basis, especially on days when Y/N came from her station, frazzled and haggard because of Nancy’s orders. Because of this threat-posing danger to her sanity, Y/N’s only reprieve is her old station. But it’s still not enough. Not when she only gets five minutes to sit on it before she gets thrust back into her circle of hell. Like, right now.
              Yoongi is staring at her. His lips are tightly sealed, his hand firm as it cups his jaw. His brows are scrunched and Y/N could have mistaken he’s angry had she not known Yoongi long enough to know it’s just his face being a daily bitch like he is. Y/N tilts her head but she gets nothing. Yoongi’s eyes remain unmoving on her figure. She blows out a sigh. What is up with him now? Why can’t he wipe that stupid look on his face? Y/N sets her elbow on her desk and cups her jaw too, mirroring the man. She glares at him. Still nothing. She raises a middle finger. Yoongi breaks from his stance and chuckles, shaking his head.
              What the fuck—
              Yoongi stands up from his cubicle. “Myungsoo, Dana, Yoona, and” he looks straight at her, “Y/N. Come to the meeting room ASAP. I have something to discuss.”
              Y/N makes a face as she drags her limbs away from her desk.
              “So, I gathered everyone here because of a new concept Steven and I thought over,” Yoongi opens a red portfolio. He slides it to the center of the table for everyone to see.
              It was a set of templates, all in the scheme of reds and pinks. Just like how Nancy pointed out in the Creative’s To-do improvements in the meeting two weeks ago. There are two to three columns designed in one page. The indentions and the justified alignment follow the traditional layout. What steers away from the formula is the awkward staggering cuts on the ending sentences, seemingly like downward staircases facing opposite each other. It creates circular bubble-like spaces lying in between the columns. And in these spaces stand human icons, one person per bubble, busily typing on their laptops or looking at their cellphones.
              “Steven and I decided it will be a good time to use this layout since this month is the time for DRM’s star program, The Heart Holiday, which addresses the country’s concerns about the decreasing birth-rate. Looks like there are no more babies because people don’t want to get into relationships these days,” Yoongi says, pointing to the solo human icons on the template. Y/N glances to her right and sees Myungsoo and Dana stifling a chuckle. Yoongi’s joke is not even funny, why are they laughing?
              “Anyway, Steven and I guessed it’s only appropriate to use the concept: no one wants to be intimate anymore, so everyone distances themselves from each other.” Yoongi flips the next page of the portfolio.
              The next article layouts have only two columns. It still has the staggered-staircases-forming-bubbles in the format. However, the reduction of the columns has brought these bubbles nearer to each other. Unlike the one-person-per-bubble format, there are now two to three people in the bubbles interacting with each other.
              “But even if it seems no one wants to be with anyone anymore,” Yoongi continues, “There is still hope for people to connect with each other. That’s why Steven and I thought it will be a good opportunity to combine this message in our magazine with the Heart Holiday-inspired theme. The memes about DRM’s PRS are also trending right now in every social media so this could make our magazine more relatable for people. Ms. Nancy has sent us the approved feature articles for inspiration. We can tell this February issue is themed around having fun whether you’re going to DRM-approved date sites with your significant other, or you’re going solo around these sites, treating yourself and all that. Hence, we thought this kind of layout will be the best one to visually execute this message,” Yoongi finishes. He looks at the people in the meeting room, “What do you think?”
              Myungsoo nods, “Yeah, I think that’s a great concept. Very timely.”
              “And the design, too,” Yoona adds, “This may catch our readers’ attention from the get-go because these bubbles are not the usual stuff we see in issues—print or online.”
              “Thanks for your inputs—Y/N, are you writing this down?”
              Y/N could suddenly feel everyone’s eyes on her. Yoongi really does love putting her on unneeded spotlights, no? She raises her head from her notebook and grumbles, “Of course.”
              “Good, then,” Yoongi turns back to his staff, “We haven’t sent these templates to Ms. Nancy yet. I’m just informing you beforehand should you have better suggestions. You know how Ms. Nancy hates installment submissions of our designs. As of now, we only have conceptualized templates for the feature articles. We still need to cover the templates for the profiles and the top ten pages. And most importantly, the cover page. I want you three to do some research and provide me interesting concepts for our subject and shoots. We have to submit a cohesive collection before Ms. Nancy’s return. So, would it be okay for you if you can send it to me by the end of the week?”
              All three give Yoongi an affirmative nod.
              “Okay, then,” Yoongi leans in his seat, “I would like you to formally meet Ms. Y/N L/N.”
              “But we already got introduced to her. A week ago, in fact,” Myungsoo warily glances at his right. Y/N tries not to shrink from the intimidating gaze he’s giving her. Wasn’t Myungsoo just afraid of her five days ago?
              “Yeah, I know,” Yoongi says, “but I think everyone has not fully understood her purpose here as I still see anxiousness in everyone’s faces whenever she goes around the office. Steven did not do much of a good job explaining it either since he’s been busy with the skeletal framework of our designs. And now, Nancy had just recently busied him with the interface of our site.  That’s why I’m here as second in command.” Yoongi stands up and nears Y/N. Y/N attempts to step back, away from his approaching figure. Yoongi prevents her from doing so by encircling an arm around her and firmly pats a hand on her right shoulder.
              The three Creatives staff sport bunched up brows.
              Unheeding from the confusion on their faces, Yoongi says, “Ms. Y/N L/N here, is Ms. Nancy’s eyes in the Creatives. Since Ms. Nancy is overseas and our last report in our meeting was not satisfactory for her, she sent in her P.A. to check on our progress and directly report to her. To counter-check our own reports to her and whatnot. Y/N’s not here to rat out anyone who’s sneaking a break or two when it’s not even break time,” Dana stiffens at that. Yoongi chuckles, “Don’t worry Dana, everyone already knows and Y/N hasn’t written a thing about you, right Y/N?” He looks at the woman under his arm and smiles.
              Y/N’s got her forehead scrunched together but she nods nevertheless, “Y-yes, I don’t report stuff ‘bout like that. Just the progress and drafts for the templates and designs and o-other suggestions. Yeah.” She unconsciously releases a shaky breath as she glances up at Yoongi who’s still smiling weirdly at her. Why does she feel like she’s being held hostage by the insufferable man?
               “Right,” Yoongi says, looking back at the three. “So, I would really appreciate it if you guys could walk-through Ms. Y/N around your research and concept-making, especially about the matters that concern the cover page.” Myungsoo opens his mouth to retort but Yoongi beats him, “Uh-uh, no objections. This is an order from your superior. A superior who cares about you all to protect you from getting blasted off this company by our dear Ms. Nancy,” Yoongi smiles.
               This must have quelled the three’s resistance, seeing their downcast faces. Yoongi grins, “I’m glad to know that you all agree with me, then. As it also would have been weird if otherwise. Especially when our sweet, adorable, cute Y/Nie has come here to help us.” Yoongi cups Y/N’s face and smiles, “Right, Y/Nie?”
               The confusion is back on the staff’s faces. This time, tenfold.
               “O….kay, I think I already get the memo,” Dana reaches for the door handle.
               “Y-yeah, me too,” Myungsoo seconds.
               “Thank you for the…briefing, Mr. Min. Have a good day,” Yoona bids as she pulls open the door and leaves. Soon enough, it’s just Y/N and Yoongi left inside the Creatives’ meeting room.
               Y/N tears herself immediately from Yoongi’s hold. She looks at him, furious, “What the fuck was that, Min?!”
               Yoongi places his hands in his pockets, “Me pretending I’m interested in you. My share of the deal. You know? Your plan.”
               “You think the deal is still up?! It’s long broken after your shit in the café yesterday!”
               “I’m not the only one who’s at fault,” Yoongi counters, “You called me overrated and an egotistic bastard.”
               “Well, you called me a dog!” Y/N throws her hands in the air. “A dog, Yoongi, a dog! What’s more humiliating than that?!”
               “I admit that’s a wrong move on my part. It’s uncalled for and I’m sorry,” Yoongi sighs. Y/N immediately feels her limbs loosen up. Did…Did Min Yoongi just apologize to her? The prideful, uncaring, asshole Min Yoongi just said ‘sorry’?—
              “But that still doesn’t justify why you’re on Tinder earlier,” Yoongi crosses his arms, “You’re still in the office and break well past over. It’s not even night time!”
              “What the—Why, am I allowed to use Tinder only at night?” Y/N gives him an incredulous look.
               “That’s not what I meant,” Yoongi says dryly, “I’m talking about you having to go to Tinder, seducing a partner with your sexual fantasies and what-not. In case you’re too shallow to know, you usually do those kinds of things at night.”
              Y/N glares at him, “So, you’re saying I have to go to Tinder to unleash my inner hoe and seduce potential partners? And it must be at night? Excuse you Min, I am highly capable of seducing anyone even off-screen!”
               “Uhh, no?” Yoongi says, tilting his head.
               Y/N’s forehead furrows, “What do you mean ‘no’?”
               “No. As in it’s impossible for you to seduce anyone, Y/N.”
               Y/N sticks her nose up, “How did you say so?”
               “Because you’re a stuck-up girl with a stick in her ass,” Yoongi informs, “No one finds that sexy.”
               “And what do people find sexy?” Y/N scoffs, “Conceited, demeaning bastards like you?”
               Yoongi drags a hand over his face, “This is going nowhere again. I don’t have time for this.”
               “And whose fault is it?” Y/N points at him, “You. You started it!”
               “No, you did,” Yoongi pins her with a glare “Who the hell swipes right on every random stranger on Tinder without care?! Much more in a professional setting?”
               “From what I know, you didn’t care about any professionalism at work, Min,” Y/N spits, taking a step towards the man, “You slept during working hours, Yoongi. Don’t you forget how you served me cold to Nancy when you missed Rosa’s call about her son’s first son’s birthday party!” Y/N seethes, “And why do you even care about whoever I swipe on Tinder?! It’s none of your business!”
               “Of course it is my business! I’m the one who you’re supposed to be dating. Not some other Tinder dude!”
               Silence. Not one muscle moves. Not even a breath comes out from between their lips. The air in the room goes colder. There seem to be imaginary frozen needles that have surrounded Y/N’s body after Yoongi’s outburst as she could feel the frigid cold starting to nip on her neck. Yoongi doesn’t seem any better as he stands still in front of her, eyes wide, mouth agape after his outburst. The excruciating tension stretches on as another second passes in this pin-drop silence.
               “W-what?” Y/N chokes out, the sound scratching from her throat, “Y-you think you’re supposed to be dating me? After everything that happened in the cafe, you think my offer is still up? You think, what, after you just called me a dog, I’d let you back in on my plan? And have you benefit from it?” Y/N scoffs.
               “Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I already apologized!”
               Y/N snorts, “You think it’s that easy to let go for you to demand forgiveness for what you did? I didn’t know you’re also that entitled, Min! And for the record, I don’t need to date you. I can easily find anyone to be my boyfriend for the Valentines!”
                “Then tell me why you’re still swiping right on Tinder until now,” Yoongi counters. “Didn’t you think I would catch you in the meeting still furiously swiping right behind your notebook?” Y/N’s jaw goes slack as she looks away from him. Yoongi smirks. “From all those accounts you swiped right, there probably would have been one that matched with you, right? If you can so ‘easily find anyone to be your boyfriend’?” He takes one step forward to the woman. Y/N gulps, taking one step backward. “Tell me there’s someone else other than me who’s willing to do all these acting shits just to get you that paid vacation leave,” Yoongi takes another step forward, cornering Y/N in the blinds-covered glass wall, “If you can name someone else, I’d gladly let you swipe everyone and anyone to your heart’s content.”
               “Fine,” Y/N admits, “No one has matched with me. Yet,” she adds, daggers in her eyes. She wouldn’t succumb to him just because he’s in a more domineering position than her, hovering above her. “Of course, you’re the only one who’s willing to act out this dating shit with me because you’re gonna benefit from it, too. You out of all people going to deny that one week of paid vacation leave? That would be a miracle.”
               “Touche,” Yoongi chuckles.
               “That’s why, it’s also time for you to step back or else I’m filing a sexual harassment case against you.”
               “Okay, okay, geesh,” Yoongi holds up his hands as he backs away, chuckling. Y/N gives him an unamused look as she dusts off her blazer. God, how many days did the Creatives left their windows to gather dust? And Yoongi had to corner her there of all places—
               Y/N crosses her arms, eyes narrowed, “So, after all your…theatrics, what are you really implying, Min?”
               “I’m implying, let’s give it a go again,” Yoongi replies. Y/N cringes at him. Yoongi immediately defends himself, “Yeah, I know, it sounds like hell. You’re not the only one who’s going to suffer.”
              “As if. You suffering just like I do? I’m the one who’s gonna suffer more! Just by looking at you, I could feel my eyes burning as if I poured a gallon of muriatic acid on them.”
              Yoongi sighs, “I’m being serious here.”
              “So do I,” Y/N tilts her chin up.
              Yoongi gives her a stop-bullshitting-me look.
              Y/N sighs, “Fine, I will.”
              “So, as I was saying,” Yoongi continues, “Our act only has to go for two weeks. 13 days, exactly, since we’ve already wasted yesterday. All we have to do is compromise and not try to fray each other’s nerves too much. Just for two weeks. Then at least we can make this farce as less stressful as it can be for the sake of our mental health.”
               “Okay. How would we start then?”
               “Let’s go have a date later. After work.”
Tumblr media
              “So this is your idea of a date?”
              “Stop complaining. I’m already the one paying.”
              Y/N grumbles an unintelligible disagreement over a stick-full of crispy fried chicken intestines. Yoongi glares at her as he takes another stick from the hot pot. He stuffs his cheek with more chicken intestines. He chomps on his food, obviously savoring the taste of the greasy street food. It would have been pleasing to the eyes if the sounds he is making are not akin to a horse wallowing chunks of grass.  It also doesn’t help that his sounds are only heightened by the loud, mindless chatter of passerby’s. Families arguing what food stall to go to next. Friends betting which game they can win. Children and babies crying for the jackpot humongous teddy bears of the obviously rigged stalls. And couples giving each other mushy looks while guzzling on street foods sold by stalls like the one they’re in. It’s a cacophony of all banal sounds from day-to-day life, amplified to the notch.
              Y/N glances up. The sky is dark but not much can be seen from the thick, dirty smog of the city. What only breaks the neverending stretch of pollution are the overhead lights. They are small oriental lamps tied up on wire cables, hanging across the streetlamp posts. Their pink, orange, and yellow hues substitute for the washed down constellations above the night sky. At least this is pretty.
              “Why? What’s your idea of a date?”
              Y/N snaps back to the man beside her. She’s brought back to the almost-deafening chitter-chatter background. “W-well, it’s definitely not like this!” She waves her stick around her, “It’s not this noisy, thi-this messy. We’re not even supposed to be eating this!”
              Yoongi raises a brow, “But it looks like you like eating chicken intestines. You had six sticks.”
              Y/N’s eyes widen. She buries her face in her scarf, “I have no choice. I’m hungry.”
              “Well, are you still hungry now?”
              “No,” Y/N munches on the last piece of her chicken intestines. She dunks the empty stick in her cup sitting on the bar of the stall.
              “That’s more than good then—Hey, are you done?” Yoongi turns to her. Y/N nods. She gives Yoongi some bills but he slaps her hand away and pays the stall vendor for their meals. “See? I fed you,” Yoongi snorts, “Why are you even complaining?”
              “A date is not just about feeding someone! O-or paying for someone before asking them if it’s okay to have their meals paid for them.”
              “But I told you I’m going to pay! You know, because of yesterday? Because apparently, my apology earlier is not enough for your demanding ass.”
              Y/N angrily stuffs her purse back into her satchel, “It’s still doesn’t justify why this ‘date’ is like this! This is not supposed to be this way!”
              “Aside from your elitist, romantic-sap delusions,” Yoongi looks at her, “what is a date supposed to be?”
              “I’m not an elitist or a romantic-sap!” Y/N exclaims, “And they’re not delusions! Anyone with at least one functioning brain cell could tell a date is supposed to have some ounce of privacy. Some inch of calm in the mood. At least through the music or the aesthetic of the place—not like a marketplace of a street event like this! And the food! They’re supposed to be at least served in plates! Did you not get an example when I asked you to meet me yesterday in a café?”
              “But the thing is, I’m not just anyone, sweetheart.”
              “Will you just stop—” Y/N falters when she feels a tug on her coat.
              “Hey, they have those fried flour-coated quail eggs! You want some?”
              Y/N doesn’t utter a word. Her perked eyes are enough for her to quickly follow the man to the brown food stall.
              Yoongi smirks, “What were you saying again? Did the eggs taste less delicious now they’re in cups?”
              Y/N dips one more egg in the sweet orange sauce before giving him a pointed look, “Shut up. This is an exception. I’m weak for this food since high school.”
              “Aren’t you weak for the intestines, too?” Yoongi snickers, “You ate eight sticks.”
               Y/N jabs at his side. Yoongi’s laugh breaks as he soothes over the spot. Y/N  triumphantly smiles, “I told you to shut up.”
               Yoongi frowns at her as he takes another egg from his cup.
               Y/N sighs as she places down her cup on the bar. She turns to Yoongi,               “Spill it.”
              “What?”
              “Why are you being so nice tonight? What are you plotting?”
               “This-This?” Yoongi sputters, “I am already being nice by being like this?”
               “Well, you’re the worst on a daily basis. Tonight, you’re ten percent less of worse.”
               Yoongi tilts his head, “How did you say so?”
               “Well,” Y/N shoves her hands in her pockets, “when I say some shit about you, you fight back. Like earlier. I blow up on you. You blow up on me. Now, you’re going for passive-aggressive. I can’t tell if you’re about to sneak up on me like the bitch you are or are you just weirdly sucking up to me.” Yoongi snorts. The sound makes Y/N’s ears heat up in a mix of embarrassment and irritation. “Why are you laughing, Min? It’s not a joke.”
               “It is a joke,” Yoongi breathes out in-between laughs, “You think I’m sucking up to you? Not in a million years, bitch! And what am I to sneak up on you for? As of now, you’re in the Creatives and I am somehow your superior. I don’t have to sneak up on you for anything.”
               Y/N huffs, “Then, what are you doing right now?”
               “It’s called compromise,” Yoongi informs, a proud smile growing on his face, “Human decency in another context. Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? If we can try, we can make this deal as less stressful as it can be.”
               “Yeah, I know,” Y/N deadpans.
               “And right now, this loud background is my insurance for tonight should we end up screaming at each other. No one is gonna hear everything and doubt us being a couple. So we can finally get that damned DRM date document.”
               “Why ‘finally’?” Y/N breaks from her reverie, brows raised in confusion, “Didn’t we have a date yesterday?”
               “Yeah we did have one,” Yoongi leans his elbow on the bar and turns to her, “But with you walking out and making such a grand exit, there’s no one in hell the manager is gonna hand me a document that’s supposed to verify two people had a great time in a date site.”
               Y/N hides her face beneath her scarf. She mumbles, “It shouldn’t have happened if you didn’t call me a dog.”
               “Yeah, I know,” Yoongi pops an egg into his mouth, finishing his cup, “but you called me names, too.” Y/N opens her mouth to retort but stops when Yoongi presses an index over her lips, “But they are just your go-to petty insults. And the end, calling you a dog is still an uncalled for low-blow. So now, I’m making us even by paying for your meals.”
               “Okay,” Y/N places her finished cup on the bar, “How would we get a document for today, then? Temporary stalls like this are not DRM-approved.”
               Yoongi smiles, “We just have to find some date-site-looking shop, then.”
               Y/N nods and she falls into silence next to Yoongi. Crowds continue to buzz past them, some people even bumping into their shoulders without an apology. And yet, not a word is still exchanged. The muted space between them is awkward and almost tensioned. From the back of her mind, Y/N could tell Yoongi wants to tell her something. His constant quick glances give him away. However, her expectations are always destroyed when he brings his eyes back on the street, staring straight ahead, away from hers. Y/N decides having an annoying chatterbox Yoongi is better than this silent Yoongi. This silent one seems like he’s secretly plotting her murder. Y/N shakes her head. Compromise, Y/N, compromise.
               “Hey, would you want to go in there?”
               Y/N whips her head, “W-what?”
               Yoongi points to his left, “Do you want to go to that shop? They’re selling some cute stuff.”
               Y/N follows Yoongi’s index. The shop standing on their left looks like Hello Kitty has puked all over it with pink sparkly unidentified stuff for years. Its name, “Adorable Paradise” is in glowing neon pink. It’s flashed by a huge LED  board fastened to the roof of the shop. The shop’s pink walls contrast the monotone grey and dirty white of the shops crammed beside it. Even from the outside, Y/N could already tell the majority, if not all, of their products are also barfed over by Hello Kitty. Pink teddy bears, pink phone cases, pink pillows, pink mini dresses—the list goes on. It’s a novelties store. But right now in Y/N’s eyes, it’s one big puddle of Hello Kitty’s barf. A paradise for all cheesy, cheap, cute finds that won’t even last long for a month.”
               “T-there?” Y/N turns to  Yoongi, a scoff forming on her lips. “You’re asking me if I want to go there? Well, I do not! I’m already 25, Yoongi. I’m no longer 15!”
               Yoongi gives her an incredulous look, “Why? Are fifteen-year-olds only allowed to that place?” He raises his hand and points to a couple going out of the shop, “See? Does that adult couple look like fifteen-year-olds to you?”
               “But, look at its name! ‘Adorable Paradise.’ Who the hell will not think this shop is for cringey teenagers?!”
               “Well, the DRM thinks not because it’s officially listed in one of their approved date sites.”
               Y/N’s eyes grow into large snow globes. She turns up her nose at him as she crosses her arms, “As if I could believe you. Just yesterday, you don’t know anything about DRM or the PRS.”
               “But now I know,” Yoongi argues, “I researched it.”
               “You? Research?” Y/N snorts, “That combination sounds awfully unbelievable.”
               “Hey, I do research,” Yoongi narrows his eyes at her, “I have to do it especially on things I know my sanity will be at stake. Like, right now,” Yoongi suddenly pulls Y/N’s wrist and runs toward the glass door of the shop, almost dragging Y/N’s body behind.
               “I.Told.You. Let. Go. Of. Me!” Y/N slaps Yoongi’s hand per syllable. Yoongi finally lets go when they enter the shop. Y/N caresses the non-existent marks on her wrist. She glowers at him, “You don’t have to drag me like that if you’re that dying to go in here, you know? You could have just told me you’re a hopeless romantic overgrown teenage boy.”
               Yoongi seems to have gone deaf over her words. He aimlessly wanders through the aisles of the shop, whistling a soft tune to himself. Y/N is ready to stomp her way all over to him and drag him out like how he did with her if Yoongi didn’t holler from the CD stand, “Hey! This song reminds me of you!”
               Y/N walks toward him. She peers at the CD case he’s holding. “UGLY – 2NE1.”
               Y/N glares at him. Yoongi laughs. She pushes him away as she goes to the other end of the stand, scanning through the CD cases. “Hah! This one’s for you!”
               Yoongi looks at the case, “Here’s a Quarter (Call Someone Who Cares) – Travis Tritt.” Yoongi smirks at her, “So, it’s gonna be like this, huh?” He rushes to the opposite end of the CD stand. “This one’s for you!” Yoongi flashes her the CD case, “I hate everything about you – Three Days Grace”
               Y/N angrily bites on her lip. She dives into her side of the stand, “Then you’re this—“Die in a Fire – The Living Tombstone”
               “You’re Pitiful – Weird Al”
               “Suck a Cheetah’s Dick – Wesley Willis”
               “You Need to Calm Down – Taylor Swift”
               “That’s What You Get – Paramore”
               “You’re not Old School. You’re Just Old – Swallowing Shit”
               “LOSER – Big Bang”
              “Grow Up – Paramore”
              “Fuck You – Lilly Allen”
              “F.U.R.B. (Fuck You Right Back) – Frankee”
               With no more songs to insult each other, Yoongi and Y/N continues on to the greeting cards.
               Yoongi turns to Y/N and points at his left, “You’re like this Mother’s day card. Its fake PNG background resonates you being such a scam.”
               Y/N points at her right, “Well, you’re like this Birthday card that somehow looks like a prayer card. You think so highly of yourself when you’re just some low-quality being.”
               “Hah!” Yoongi snorts, “Then you’re like this plain ass Thank You Card. Its abuse of Comic Sans is like your abuse of overused insults. Upgrade your insulting game, mate.”
               “Overused, huh? Then you’re this ‘Cousin, you deserve the best,’ card. Awfully useless to anyone.”
               “Hey! Cousins deserve a Hallmark card!”
               “Who the hell writes to their cousin?! It’s no longer the 1800’s!”
               “Well, obviously not you. You don’t have a heart to even appreciate your cousin.”
               “I do appreciate my cousin!” Y/N looks away, frowning, “But not through cards.”
               “Then how do you appreciate them?”
               “A birthday message on Facebook?”
               “That’s not enough! What, you just speak to them once a year?”
               “Yeah! Because not everyone has good relationship ties with their family, dumb-o.”
               Yoongi stops, “What? You’re not okay with your family?”
               “Are you deaf? Did you not hear what I said?” Y/N looks at him with a cold stare, “And why are you suddenly concerned?”
               “Well, it’s family? And families are supposed to be the people who should know you best, and thus understand you the best..?,” Yoongi finishes, eyes unsure. He looks like he’s trying to convince himself with his answer rather than Y/N.
               “Well, not my family,” Y/N turns away and heads for the other aisle, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Next topic.”
               “Okay,” Yoongi nods, following behind.
               The Adorable Paradise is a self-contradiction. There is nothing heavenly in the shop but its all-shades-of-pink LSD-inducing color scheme. The shop is a hodgepodge of all things imaginable. One stand has CDs and records, from mainstream pop to underground heavy metal, un-arranged in the racks. The other stand has greeting cards for all sorts of events. It is Y/N’s first time to find a card congratulating a person for surviving a day without killing their boss. Shelves line up the spaces above the stands, housing indoor plants of different species and vinyl records from the 70s to contemporaries. The bookstands lined in the center of the shop contain items from school supplies to cosmetic products. Accessories from head to toe are displayed in mannequins placed in all of the corners of the shop. The only thing passable for “adorable” is the shop’s collection of plushies, all resembling none of well-known cartoons or franchises. Although calling it so would be a stretch because there are outlandish ones like the magenta sunflower with a pentagram on its disk florets Y/N saw in the leftmost shelf.  It was as if the shop owner didn’t know what business it wants to have so they just threw everything sellable they know inside. It is almost impossible to know how the shop managed to house all these various products in such a small space. Especially, when there are corners that have products like—
               “Yoongi, look, they have the leaf village’s forehead protector!”
               “The leaf village what?”
               Y/N turns around, tying the headband around her head, “The Naruto headband!”
               Yoongi shrugs.
               Y/N’s eyes blow wide, “What do you mean ‘so what’? This is Naruto.”
               “Well, I haven’t watched it, so I don’t know what to feel.”
               “You haven’t watched Naruto?!”
               “Too many episodes.”
               “This is Naruto!”
               “Yes! I know it’s Naruto!” Yoongi exasperates, “You don’t have to repeat it again!”
               “Fine,” Y/N crosses her arms. “Then what did you watch growing up?” Yoongi looks up, deep in thought. Y/N smirks, “If you have nothing, then I can really say you’re asshole-ry can now be explained by the fact that you apparently have no childhood.”
               “Hey! I had my childhood! I remember it now. It’s Slam Dunk!”
               “The basketball anime?”
               “Yep.”
               “Does it involve ten episodes worth of flashback before they finally make a move?”
               “No. That’s just the trend now after Kuroko no Basket.”
               “Wait,” Y/N points at him, “Do you watch every single sports anime?”
               “No…Just when it’s about basketball.”
               “Oh my god,” Y/N dramatically covers her mouth in faux shock, “you’re such a stereotypical representative of the male species.”
               Yoongi gives her a half-unamused, half-confused look, “What do you mean with that?”
               “Nothing. Just you guys typically liking basketball 24/7 and making life everything about it.”
               “I do not make life everything about basketball,” Yoongi deadpans, “Have you ever heard me do that?”
               “…No. Okay, sorry, I got sidetracked again because of my annoyance with you,” Y/N faces the bookstand where she got her headband, “Anyway, since you mentioned you like Slam Dunk, I may have seen a Shohoku 10 jersey here—”
               “OH MY GOD, WHERE???” Yoongi runs next to her.
               Y/N turns around, quirking her brows, “I thought you don’t make your life about basketball? Why are you reacting like that?”
               “Hey, if you watched Slam Dunk, you’d know,” Yoongi informs. He takes a conscious step back and awkwardly adjusts the folded cuffs of his navy button-down.
               “Well, I haven’t watched it, so I don’t know.”
               “You haven’t watched Slam Dunk? How do you even know about the Shohoku 10 jersey?!”
               “I know that 10 jersey is important because Mina’s boyfriend gushes about it, too,” Y/N bites her lip then admits, “And also because the one wearing the next number, 11, is a very attractive man.”
               “You mean Kaede Rukawa?” Yoongi blows a frustrated sigh, “Oh my god, you have an awful taste. That character’s annoying as fuck.”
               “Hey—”
               Yoongi holds up a finger, “You don’t get to justify yourself. You said you haven’t watched Slam Dunk. Which by the way, how did you even know Rukawa is good-looking?”
               Y/N slaps Yoongi’s hand away, “Hah! You admit he’s also good-looking!”
               Yoongi narrows his eyes at her, “That’s not the point. Answer the question.”
               “Fine. I saw a drawing of him in a product ad for a Shohoku jersey Mina has added to her cart.”
               Yoongi’s jaw drops, “Then, you just decided then and there you like him?”
               “I didn’t say I like him! I said he’s attractive!”
               “But he’s such a jerk to Sakuragi! How is that attractive?!”
               “You know, this is going nowhere again,” Y/N mutters and heads for the cashier.
               Yoongi follows close behind, “Just so you know, you’ll immediately get disillusioned when you watch the anime.”
               “If you’d succeed in convincing me to do so,” Y/N taunts.
               “I’ll watch Naruto in exchange,” Yoongi places the jersey on the counter, next to the Naruto headband.
               Y/N looks at him, brows shot up her forehead, “Are you sure? That’s like 500 plus episodes of investment.”
               Yoongi smirks, “I’m sure. Then in exchange, you have to watch Slam Dunk.” He places out his hand, “Deal?”
               Y/N goes silent. After another second of thought, she clasps her hand around Yoongi’s and shakes it, “Deal.”
               “That would be $50,” the cashier awkwardly smiles.
               Y/N quickly opens her wallet, fishing for some bills—
               “Thank you for giving the exact amount, sir.”
               Y/N looks at Yoongi, “You already paid? But I’ve got my forehead protector in it. I need to pay.”
               “I told you,” Yoongi smiles, “I’m paying for today.”
               Y/N goes silent. This smile on the man’s face is weird. It’s not the taunting one he flashes at her whenever she’s in meetings, as if to remind her he’s waiting for her next mistake. Nor is it the insulting tilt of his lips he sends her whenever he catches sight of her frazzled form by Nancy’s door after accomplishing all her boss’ pile of tasks. This smile has an oddly, unnervingly nonexistent subtext. It has none of his usual malice, nor his hint of capriciousness. Just a plain smile Yoongi most definitely never sends her way and—
               “You two are so sweet!”
               Y/N breaks from her trance and looks at the cashier, “W-what?”
               The cashier takes a step from her desk, self-conscious now of her abrupt statement. She looks like she’s just turned about nineteen. Probably her first job that’s why she’s a nervous wreck in front of a customer. “I-I said you two a-are so sweet,” she stutters, “I-I’ve never seen a couple before with such che-chemistry with each other.”
               What? Chemistry? Y/N scoffs. Her and Yoongi? It’s more likely disastrous energy.  “We-re not—”
               “Oh yeah, people usually comment that about us,” Yoongi pulls Y/N to his side, an arm looped around her frame. He sends her a sickening, too-cheesy lovey-dovey eyes, “Right, my cutie peachy pie, Y/N?”
               Y/N gives him an incredulous look. Yoongi doesn’t pay her mind. He turns back to the cashier, “We probably oozed too much of the honeymoon phase, no? My girlfriend and I just started dating, you see. So I guess, all the sweet stuff are natural to come at the start.”
               “I don’t think the sweetness will only come at the start for you two, sir,” the cashier grins, “For one, you two look like you’ve been with each other for so long.”
               “Yeah,” Yoongi answers, chuckling, “So long that the establishment of DRM has caught up with us and almost pushed us to be together.”
               Y/N’s jaw drops. Yoongi did not just say that—
               “That’s why, we’re still kinda unofficial now. We haven’t changed our PRSs yet.”
               “Oh,” the cashier nods slowly.
               “So,” Yoongi leans closer to the counter, “Would you help me and my cutie peachy pie be as official as we can be by writing us a date document to officialize our date?”
               “O-of course, sir! No problem!” The cashier beams, “May I get your names please?”
              “L/N Y/N and Min Yoongi.”
              “Okay, I’ll be back soon” the cashier bows before she disappears into their staff’s backroom.
               Y/N immediately pulls Yoongi’s cuff sleeve, pulling him to lean toward her, “What the fuck, Min? Cutie peachy pie?!”
               “What the fuck, to you, too, peachy pie,” Yoongi returns in harsh whispers, a frown marring his face, “What were you thinking denying to the cashier we’re not a couple? You almost gave us away!”
               “It’s you who almost gave us away! You outright hinted we’re doing all these stuff just to get the holiday benefit! Were you not listening to me yesterday? You don’t have to go through all drama theatrics just to get the date document! You can just ask for it plain and simple! They’ll automatically get it—”
               “Sorry, I took so long,” The cashier enters the counter. Y/N and Yoongi immediately let go of each other. The cashier smiles at the couple, “Here’s your date document, Mr. Min and Ms. L/N. I wish you two the best of luck!”
               “Y-yeah, thank you,” Y/N awkwardly smiles as she receives the sealed pale pink envelope.
               When they make it outside the shop, Y/N finally bursts. “What the hell did you just do in there?”
               “Uhh, pretending to be your lover? Like you should, too? Because you’re the one who offered me this deal to acquire the Heart Holiday paid week? I don’t know, you decide,” Yoongi gives her a once over.
               Y/N closes her eyes and sighs, “Okay, I’m sorry I almost put us up to fail by denying we’re a couple. But, you can’t blame me. I’m still adjusting to having you as my fake boyfriend when you’re my worst enemy for years. It’s an illogical upgrade and I still need time to prepare myself.”
               “Well, you shouldn’t have agreed to have our date today when you’re not yet done being such a difficult person,” Yoongi spits. Y/N’s almost taken aback by the complete 180 change from the smiling Yoongi who’s telling her he’s willing to suffer 500 plus episodes in exchange for her watching Slam Dunk for him. But then, that must have just been him acting like the professional scam that he is. Reality must sink in. Right in front of her is the true Min Yoongi. The insufferable man who doesn’t think twice about criticizing her, even in a large public place.
               Aggravation starts to light up in Y/N’s throat. She turns to Yoongi, voice dripping with venom and disdain, “Well, forgive me for not being able to stomach dating you. Especially someone like you who’s awfully disgusting as your choices of pet names.”
               Yoongi looks at her in silence. He looks down at the paper bags in his hands. He unceremoniously hands her the smaller one. “If you cannot stomach me dating you, you shouldn’t have asked for my help in the first place.” Yoongi gives her one last unreadable look. He shakes his head and walks away, disappearing into the moving crowd.
              Y/N looks away, feet stuck on the pavement. The awful taste of shame is blocking her esophagus.
Tumblr media
 DAY 3 – January 28; Tuesday      
               Yoongi is avoiding her, Y/N’s sure of it. When she sat in her desk in the Creatives, the man didn’t let his eyes sweep over her. He didn’t even address her blatant staring just like he usually does. When Y/N makes her round in their office, Yoongi coincidentally decides it’s the right time to take a bathroom break, obviously avoiding having Y/N pass him by in his cubicle. This is weird. Yoongi is not one to avoid Y/N. It is Y/N who avoids him. Yoongi is the pesky, picky jerk of a fly who won’t stop bugging her. It’s not supposed to be her who’s standing awkwardly whenever he’s near, trying to get the man’s attention.
              The morning was stressfully spent with her trying to play cat and mouse with Yoongi. Fortunately for Y/N, no one in the Creatives has noticed this aberrant change in her attitude. She’s sure she’s gonna succumb to the depths of the earth from embarrassment. Y/N’s relieved everyone already knows she hates Yoongi and vice versa to even attempt to speak to her about it. That is until the clock hits eleven and a no-filter co-worker with the name of Dana Lee comes to her.
               “Hey, what’s up with you and Yoongi?”
               Y/N looks up from her desk. Dana is leaning above her, concern and curiosity etched into her face. From the little time Y/N has spent in the Creatives, it was easy to tell Dana is one of the most extroverted people she has ever met in her life. Unafraid to sound too prying or gossipy, Dana just speaks what’s on her mind. Be it about Myungsoo being too patronizing on her or Steven being so closed-off as a leader, Dana freely talks about anything. What’s only weird though is she also manages to not step on any line. This is something Y/N is simultaneously frustrated by and envious of. No one gets to say anything that they want and play so safe all at the same time. Though right now, Y/N is mulling over if she got Dana wrong as what she’s asking from her is a little bit too unnerving for someone she has never exchanged a word with before.
               “What?”
               The petite blonde woman comfortably plops onto a chair next to her desk. Y/N didn’t notice she even dragged a chair with her. Dana leans an elbow on her desk, “Just yesterday, he was awfully close to you. Now, it looks like he can’t even bear to look at you.”
               “What are you talking about?” Y/N awkwardly chuckles, “We’re not close. We both can’t bear to look at each other.”
               “Then what did happen yesterday?” Dana’s eyes were piercing right into hers.
              “Umm, maybe he’s got…a fever? Fever always does things to people, you know?” Y/N nervously chuckles
               Dana hums, leaning back on her chair, “I don’t think calling someone adorable and sweet has something to do with fever. ”
               “It’s Min Yoongi, Dana,” Y/N flips through the pages of her notebook, “If he doesn’t have a fever, then he’s just plain weird. He always says ridiculous things.”
               “Not always. I don’t even remember hearing him giving compliments ever since he got in here.”
               Y/N whips her head towards her.
               Dana chuckles, “You two do have something weird going on, huh?” Y/N opens her mouth to retort but Dana cuts her chance by handing her a long manila folder. “Anyway, I’m here to give you these. Here are the templates I’ve researched that could work for this month’s profile pages.”
               “Why…are you giving me these?”
               “I just want to,” Dana shrugs, “Since you ‘re part of the Creatives now, I figured why not let you help me pick out what templates to use as inspiration for our own magazine. Since you work closely with Nancy, you should probably know some things she wants to see in our issues.”
              “But—”
              “And inside it is also a mini-guide about the jargons we use to help you better understand Steven’s reports before you report them yourself to Nancy.”
              “You…you did this for me?”
              “Honestly? No. This folder is a peace offering to you so you won’t report me taking too many breaks to Nancy,” Dana informs, smiling. She picks up the booklet, “And this mini-guide? Yoongi made it. He asked me to give it to you yesterday but I forgot.”
              “Oh.”
              “Yeah, that’s why I find it weird he’s treating you like air now when yesterday he’s adamant about telling us to treat you with utmost respect as a co-worker.” Dana claps a hand over her mouth, “Oh my god, does it sound rude? I’m sorry, I kinda gave us away that we’re really wary of you. Okay, I really gave us a way no, but at least you know now…right?”
              “It’s okay, Dana,” Y/N smiles, waving a dismissive hand.
              “Are you really though?”
              “Yes, I’m okay,” Y/N smiles wider, “Thank you for the folder again.”
              “…Okies. See ya later.”
Tumblr media
               “I am NOT okay.”
               Mina turns her swivel chair to face her bestfriend. The soft melodies of her radio fill the Accounting Department. Everyone else has left their seats for lunch. Mina sets her jaw on her palm, “Why, did Yoongi do something again? I already told you not to involve him anymore in your plan but you’re still stubborn. Don’t tell me I didn’t see you yesterday getting off work with him and you coming home late yesterday. I may have just set out a midnight snack for you and resigned early to bed, but I have eyes, Y/N. I just didn’t say anything yesterday because it’s late and it’s too early in the morning earlier to bring up, but I know.”
               Y/N pushes her fork around the leftovers of her packed lunch in her container, “Yoongi was really pushy yesterday about making it up to me about the dog-thing in the café so I had no choice. He even told me to quit this Tinder gaming because I’m gonna run out of time if I were to wait for someone else to act with me. And although he paid for everything even if I insisted to share the bill, Yoongi still had us eat street foods and enter some weird-ass ka-doodle shop. Who the hell takes someone into those things for a date?! And okay, he was a bit decent yesterday to not blow up things out of proportion just like he always does. But! He still sent me this cringe-worthy smile that I have to see as something positive because it doesn’t look like his ‘I-will-end-you’ smiles he usually flashes at me and this certainly bothers me. And now,” Y/N blows out an irritated sigh, “I found out he even made me this guide about the Creatives’ jargon and terminologies I’ve been desperate for a week.”
               “So, what really happened? You won’t be this conflicted if it’s just about a non-malicious smile and a guide.”
               “First and foremost, I am NOT conflicted,” Y/N puts down her fork, “In my defense, Yoongi’s still a dumb bitch because he almost uttered in front of the cashier that we are only going in their shop for the date document like ‘hello, this girl and I are just tryna fake it ‘til we make it the heart holiday benefit.’ He even shamelessly got the stroke of ego to even call me ‘cutie peachy pie’ in front of the cashier and I am so not having any of that—”
               “The point, Y/N?”
               “Fine,” Y/N slumps down in her chair, “The night ended with me telling Yoongi I can’t stomach dating him because he’s disgusting as his choice of pet names.”
               Mina winces, “Oof, that kinda hurts.”
               “How does it hurt?” Y/N throws up her hands, “Does he expect me to just accept the disgusting idea of me dating him when I’ve practically dreamt of strangling him in his sleep for so many nights? Not earlier that day he was just dissing me with song titles!”
               “Y/N,” Mina rubs her temples, “Even if he dissed you with those song titles, they are still shallow. But calling someone disgusting to date? That hurts bad. It’s bad as his dog-thing. It hurts to be seen as someone so disgusting to be treated as a romantic partner, even if it’s all for show, you know? It’s like telling a person no one would ever want to be with them.”
               Y/N looks away.
              Mina sighs, “How is he doing now?”
               “Well,” Y/N picks on the seams of her cardigan, “I don’t really know. All I know he’s not his usual self because he won’t look at me. Our desks literally face each other and it seems like letting  himself even accidentally glance to me will give him some sort of virus.”
               “Then you did hurt him.”
               “Minaaa,” Y/N whines.
              “As much as I despise him for what he’s done to you in the past, this time you’re in the wrong, Y/N, and I’m not gonna tolerate it. He tried to make it up with you.”
              “Mina, you’re supposed to take my side and make me feel better!”
              “Well, you won’t feel any better until you apologize. You’re feeling like this because your guilt is eating on your nerves. You’re not helping yourself if you’re just gonna deny everything, Y/N.”
              Y/N wishes she hasn’t talked this out with Mina. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t be awkwardly lingering around the Creatives’ room, waiting for Yoongi to finish his briefing with their artists. It’s already seven in the evening. By this time, Y/N could be probably running a hot bath in her home while scrolling around her Facebook to nonchalantly react to her friend’s achievements. It’s always how her night goes. Not like this—creeping like a stalker again for a man she hates. The glass door busts open. Y/N scrambles for a corner to hide. But it’s too late.
              “Oh, Y/N, what are you still doing here?” some guy asks. Y/N thinks his name is Jeff. ‘Jeff’ pushes up the slipping portfolios back in his elbow.
              “I think she forgot something,” Yoona suggests.
              “Uhh, n-no—”
              “Who is she?” a nineteen-year-old-looking boy asks. His buttondown fits his narrow shoulders awkwardly. He’s probably a new hire.
              “She’s Y/N L/N, Seojoon. Nancy’s P.A.,” Seojoon’s eyes grow three times larger than their usual size. Yoona continues, “Would you mind going back to check if Ms. L/N left something in the meeting room? We were there yesterday.”
              “You don’t have to—”
              “Of course no, Ms. Park!” Seojoon bows, grinning at Y/N.
              Yoona clasps a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, “You do not need to feel shy, Y/N. We are co-workers here.”
              “I am not—"
              “Ms. Park,” Seojoon hollers, “I don’t see anything here!”
              “Oh,” Yoona looks at Y/N, “then you’re probably waiting for Mr. Min.”
              “Mr. Min?” ‘Jeff’ sputters, almost letting go of his portfolios.
              “Yeah, Jeff, Mr. Min,” Yoona pats the man’s back, “Now go ahead and place the portfolios in my car. I’ll be the one to handle the box.”
              “N-no, Yoongi and I are not—”
              “Yes, Ms. Park.” Jeff bows. “Mr. Min..” He slowly nods at Y/N, “In the denial phase are we, huh?”
              Before Y/N could open her mouth and deny such repulsive remark, Yoona pops her head back into the office, “Seojoon! Come outside, Y/N didn’t leave anything.”
              Seojoon quickly steps out. Yoona gives Y/N a curt smile, “I don’t really fancy romantic relationships at work, but anyway, good luck with Mr. Min.”
              “We,” Y/N nervously chuckles, “We’re not—”
              “You don’t have to deny anymore Ms. L/N, we totally understand! I’m rooting for you and Mr. Min!” Seojoon grins. The two quickly leave and it’s just Y/N again in the quiet hallway.
              What just…happened? How do these people act like they long knew about her when she hasn’t even talked with them before?
              The door swings open again and Y/N jumps.
              “What are you doing here?”
              Y/N turns around. Yoongi is standing at the doorway, brows furrowed, hands on his black satchel. He looks like he doesn’t want to see her right now.
              Y/N’s eye twitches, “Obviously, I’m here to work. You know, past the eight to five work hours, to work on unfinished works I don’t really have.”
              Yoongi rolls his eyes, “Are you seriously being sarcastic right now?”
              “How could I not be when you’re acting like the biggest bitch alive?”
              Yoongi rubs a tired hand over his eyes, “Did you just wait here to start a fight? Because if you are, I’m already tired and I want to go home.” Yoongi steps aside and walks past her.
              What is wrong with him? Did he just walk out on her? When he’s the one who got all dramatic yesterday, acting like the victim when he also picked on her? Y/N holds up her chin. Fine, if he wants to act this way then so be it.
              But what about Nancy? The Heart Holliday?
              Y/N stops. She releases a long sigh. Why does she always end up fighting with him?
              Y/N runs out of the office, pushing the glass doors of Travel Loca wide open. At the end of the main hallway, she sees Yoongi entering the lift. Y/N leaves all thoughts and just sprints. She manages to stick a hand in the infinitesimal space before the metal doors completely close on her. The elevator dings and the doors start to open wide. Yoongi looks at her, eyes wide.
              “Look,” Y/N breathes out, entering the lift, “I know I’ve been an ass yesterday, but you can’t just pin everything on me like you always do. If you hadn’t dissed me with those CD titles, called me cutie peachy pie, and dumbly almost gave us out, I wouldn’t have—”
              “What are you really here for, Y/N?”
              The metal doors close again. Y/N closes her eyes, “Fuck, I’m sorry okay?! I didn’t mean to say those mean words to you. I was just frustrated and mad when you called me a difficult person and I guess I just blew up, okay?” Y/N looks at him, “I’m sorry.”
              “If you’re sorry, why are you still denying that we’re dating in front of my subordinates just now?”
              “You heard that?”
              “Of course,” Yoongi adjusts his bag on his shoulder, “Jeff has the loudest mouth in here and Seojoon is coming in close for that spot. It’s not hard for the two of them to announce what’s happening here to the next city.”
              Y/N self-consciously rubs her arm, “I’m not used to people crowding me like that and asking about that stuff, okay? I’m still adjusting to this…situation we have. I’m sorry, okay? I promise I won’t give us away again. I’m serious this time.”
              “Okay,” Yoongi quips.
              Y/N looks up at him, “Wait, you’re just going to let it go like that?”
              “Of course no,” Yoongi answers, smiling.
              The growing smile on Y/N’s face falls flat, “What do you mean, Yoongi?”
              “I want you to make it up to me.”
               Y/N’s jaw drops, “What?!”
               “When I did you wrong, I made it up to you. Now, it’s your turn,” Yoongi grins. Y/N crosses her arms. Yoongi’s smile grows, “Take it or I leave this deal.”
               Y/N bites her cheeks. She closes her eyes and sighs, “Fine.”
               “Good. Glad to know we’re on the same page,” Yoongi says, pressing the ‘P1’ button on the elevator just before the lift passes it.
               Y/N gawks at him, “When did you have a car?”
               “It’s not mine. Steven let me borrow his for today.” The doors open. Yoongi walks toward the gun-metal gray Ford on the far right and presses the remote open. He opens the driver’s side and looks at Y/N. “Why are you still standing there? Do you want me to open the door for you, sweetheart?”
               “Fuck you.”
               “I will open it if you want me to,” Yoongi chuckles, starting for the passenger side.
               “Shut up!” Y/N dashes to the passenger’s side, blocking Yoongi from pulling the door for her. Yoongi cackles.
               The ride was silent for a few minutes. Save for Yoongi who kept on bugging Y/N with the same question the moment they pulled out of Rockfort Building.
              “So,” Yoongi asks, “where are we really going?”
                Y/N has been muttering directions for a few minutes now, unrelenting to tell Yoongi the exact address. She figured to keep it a secret lest Yoongi make a scene once he knew where they’re going. But with Yoongi pestering her now like a five-year-old toddler, Y/N thinks she might have made the wrong decision. Y/N closes her eyes, “Shut up and just follow my directions.”
               “I won’t if you won’t tell me where you plan to take us. For all I know, you’ve contacted some hoodlums to ambush me in a dark alley.”
                Y/N turns to her side, letting her back face him.
                 Yoongi pokes her shoulder, “Y/NNNN—”     
               “Fine! Turn left at the 2nd stoplight and then a right at the 3rd stoplight. There’s a Burger King joint there. Satisfied?” Y/N glares at him.
               “You’re taking me to fast-food?” Yoongi dramatically places a hand over his chest, “I thought you said dates are supposed to be intimate and of high-quality.”
               “Well, when it comes to you, it’s a different case. Now, shut up.”
               The street was dark. Save for the brightly lit Burger King establishment. The white and yellow lighting inside the restaurant seems to bleed outside. They color the washed-out paint of the closed shops beside it. Some manage to spread onto the wet and cold pavement. The raven night sky further emphasizes the restaurant’s colors with no other lit building to compete with. There were street lamps, but their lights were not bright enough to register distinctly into one’s eyes. They all just looked like burnt-out stars.
               They seem to remind Y/N of the man next to her when they pulled up to the order reception area of the drive-thru.
               “Here’s your order, sir,” The crew staff hands Yoongi a huge paper bag, “Would you like to add anything more?”
               “Oh, yeah, um, do you have a document for like dates and—”
              “Oh no, don’t mind him,” Y/N clamps a hand over Yoongi’s mouth, “We don’t have anything else to add for now. But if we do, we’re gonna go inside to get them later. Thank you,” she smiles at the confused staff.
              When the windows roll up, Yoongi tears Y/N’s hand off his face. “What the fuck was that for?”
              Y/N scowls, “You’re being stupid for almost giving us away! Again!”
              “But I already followed what you said! You told me to just ask for the document plain and simple!”
              Y/N places a hand over her forehead, “That only works when you’ve already spent some time in a date-site enough to be considered as a date. How can Burger King know we’re having a date when we just pulled up and ordered at the drive-thru? If that is so, then they would have been distributing date documents so easily to every single car that passes by.”
              “How will we let them know, then?” Yoongi asks.
              “We park in their parking lot and stay there to eat. Where they can see us spending time with each other. Then we go inside and ask for the document.”
              “Then why did you even insist we go to a drive-thru if we’re gonna go out and enter the restaurant later anyway?” Yoongi throws up his hands, “We could have just dined-in and eat out like usual.”
              “Because I don’t want anyone to see us or else we’ll lose another opportunity to get a goddamn date document.”
              “How can you say we’ll lose another opportunity?”
              “Because I know we’re going to argue,” Y/N looks at Yoongi. His eyes are piercing hers and his brows are scrunched up. Y/N points at to him, “Look, your face is telling me you’re already about to start some shit up.” She reaches across the console and pokes his forehead with her index and middle finger to spread apart the man’s brows, “There, you look less like a dumb asshole now.”
              Yoongi slaps her hand away. Y/N snorts. Yoongi shoves the paper bag into her hand, “Just shut up and eat.”
              Ten minutes later and fingers coated with salt from the fries, Yoongi breaks the silence, “What were you looking at just before we got in the drive-thru? You seem very lost in it.”
              Y/N spares him a glance before going for another fry, “Obviously not you.”
              “I’m being serious.”
              “Okay, fine. The sky,” Y/N slumps deeper into her seat.
              “Wow,” Yoongi chuckles, “I never thought you were one of those aesthetic-obsessed girls of Pinterest.”
              “Where are you going with this? If you’re gonna insult me again, just so you know, I paid for tonight’s meal. Therefore, I’ve already made it up with you. And so, I am in no obligation to–”
              “I’m trying to initiate small talk,” Yoongi turns to her, smirking, “Now look who’s the one starting some shit up?”
              Y/N narrows her eyes at him.
              Yoongi snickers, “Can’t you just answer my question? I’m just trying to have a conversation without us screaming each other’s heads off. It’s getting pretty tiring.”
              Y/N looks down on the empty food wrapper on her lap. She closes her eyes and sighs, “Okay,  but don’t laugh at me. I’m really…into light set against skies. Street lamps, overhead lights in cables, lit up buildings—anything that is illuminated, as long as there are skies in the background. I like skies in general because looking at it feels like viewing a painting in a real classy museum for free. I like free stuff. But, I like skies more if the light that comes with it makes their whole picture entirely different from what it’s really supposed to be.”
              “Like what?”
              “Say for example,” Y/N leans nearer to Yoongi to point at the restaurant, “Burger King is the only brightly lit establishment here. And its bright use of primary colors on the building creates a greater contrast against the blackness of the sky. If you think about it more, Burger King kinda looks like an evil radioactive plant set in a post-apocalyptic world,” Y/N gives Yoongi a pointed look as she raises her hands, “Life’s been boring lately. I’m just trying to see things differently to entertain myself.”
              Yoongi looks at her, mouth agape.
              Y/N points at him, “I told you, don’t laugh. You asked for it. That’s my answer.”
              “I’m not trying to laugh,” Yoongi chuckles, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m into light fixtures.”
              “Light fixtures?”
              “Yeah.  Lamps, light bulbs, lighted chandeliers—anything that’s supposed to light up for interior designing. It’s not as special as your affinity for your light-in-the-skies. I just like light fixtures because, well, they’re pretty and practical. And I like interior designing. I could spend a lot of hours just walking around the home department in malls,” Yoongi turns toward her, “What else do you like?”
              Y/N’s eyes turn into slits, “Are we playing twenty questions right now?”
              “No. But if you want, we can.”
              “Fine. Okay…I like Naruto.”
              Yoongi gives Y/N a blank stare, “You already told me that yesterday.”
              “Yeah,” Y/N nods, “but I think you don’t get me yesterday. What I mean by ‘like’ is that I’m totally obsessed with that anime. And manga. All throughout elementary and high school, there’s not a day where I blabbered about Naruto. I can’t believe an anime can be so, so good. The plot is so well-done and the characters’ motivations and desires are fleshed out so good that they almost resemble real people. The story world is so concrete that I truly wished it existed so I can just go there whenever I want,” Y/N sighs, “Not to say Uchiha Sasuke is goddamn handsome.”
              “Now, I see.”
              “What?”
              Yoongi chortles, “You have a type.”
              Y/N frowns, “What do you mean with that?”
              Yoongi grins, “You like black-haired guys with poker faces and horrible personalities.”
              Y/N releases an offended scoff, “Ho-horrible? Sasuke is not horrible! He just had circumstances he cannot escape!”
              “Well, Kaede Rukawa is horrible.”
              “Are you seriously still fixated on my attraction to that guy?”
              “How can I not?” Yoongi exasperates, “He’s such a pretentious bitch to his teammates and he calls Sakuragi a ‘moron.’ Multiple times!”
              “Well, that’s the purpose of a character that acts antagonistically, you know?” Y/N informs, “They’re supposed to challenge the protagonist to further elevate conflict. And from what I know, he and Sakuragi eventually resorted to a friendly rivalry.”
              “Yeah, they did, but still, it doesn’t excuse his terrible attitude—Wait, how did you know about that? You said yesterday you’ve never watched Slam Dunk before.”
              Y/N flushes, “Well, I-I have hands, you know? And a brain. A little research about their high-five is not that much of a hassle.”
              “Wait, you researched that part with their high-five? Through what, fandom.com?” Y/N guiltily side-glances the side mirror. Yoongi tongues his cheek, “Wow. Just wow. Congratulations, you spoiled your own experience.”
              Y/N turns to him with a scowl on her face, “At least I tried to know a thing about Slam Dunk! What about you? Did you already start watching Naruto just like what you oh-so confidently declared yesterday?”
              Yoongi looks down, “…No.”
              “Hah!” Y/N points a finger at him, a triumphant smile on her face, “See? You’re just a big-talker Min Yoongi! You say a lot of shit but you can’t even do one of them!”
              “Hey! I said I will watch Naruto just yesterday! Did you expect me to start watching it as soon as possible? In case you don’t know, I’ve got lots of work to do thanks to Nancy. You talk as if you’re so great when you haven’t even watched Slam Dunk yourself!”
              “I’ll watch it, okay?! Happy, now?”
              “Very,” Yoongi gibes at her, “You better watch it because I’ve got to suffer through 500 plus episodes.”
              “Fine.”
              “Fine.”
              Silence settles over the car again. A minute or two passes with just the sound of food wrappers’ wrinkling and folding serving as the white noise along with the whir of the air con. Yoongi  leans forward and presses the on button of the car stereo. Post Malone and Swae Lee’s Sunflower fills the car.
               The song is in the second verse when Y/N decides to break the silence between them, “Do you…like this song?”
               “Yeah,” Yoongi smiles, “The heavy beats ironically compliment the soft melody so well. I find it…very unusual and oddly comforting.” Yoongi looks at her, “Do you, too?”
               “Yeah,” Y/N picks up the last fry in their paper container, “I’m not really into pop songs, especially popular ones. They tend to be all about shallow declarations of love or overused odes to sex and horniness because everyone knows sex sells. But this one is gonna be an exception. It just feels so…real.”
               “How so?”
               “Well, it’s all thanks to the sunflower metaphor. Sunflowers are very pretty and they last very long. But they’re also stressful to grow because they drain the other plants from receiving nutrients. That’s why they’re flowers that symbolize true love. The love that is sweet, but also draining. And the fact that you said the heavy beats compliment the soft melody is an audial language to further layer on the metaphor of the song.”
               Yoongi looks at her with a curious glint in his eyes, “How did you know these stuff?”
               “We-well, I learned some things about the flower language in a book about star-crossed soulmates I read a year ago. Do-don’t laugh. It’s a good book, okay.”
               “I’m not even laughing,” Yoongi chuckles.
               Y/N  gives him a pointed stare, “Well, you’re doing it now.”
               “Okay, okay,” Yoongi wheezes, “I’m not laughing.”
               “Sure.”
               “I’m serious,” Yoongi insists, now calm. “I just chuckled because I didn’t imagine you’re into that stuff.”
               “What stuff?”
               Yoongi smiles, “Cute stuff.”
               “Cu-cute?” Y/N gawks, “They’re not cute! That’s so downgrading—you know, just because this stuff talks about love, it doesn’t mean they value any less than other abstractions and values out there.”
               “That’s not what I meant. I’m talking about it being adorable.”
               “Adorable?”
               “You,” Yoongi purses his lips, “It’s adorable that you actually like this stuff. Stuff far from what you do at work. I thought your head is just filled with unpublished stories and worship chants for Nancy.”
               Y/N narrows her eyes at him. Yoongi guffaws. Sunflower ends and some pop song which Y/N doesn’t know starts to play. Y/N crosses her arms, “Let’s do the 20 Questions instead. Having a serious conversation with you is draining.”
               “Okay,” Yoongi chuckles, “How will we do it then?”
              “10 questions each.  Answerable by ‘yes’ or ‘no’ or whatever,” Y/N turns to Yoongi, “I’ll start. What’s your favorite color?”
               “Blue.”
               Y/N clicks her tongue, “Very typical.”
               “What about you?” Yoongi asks.
               “Yellow. What’s your favorite food?”
              “Lamb skewers. Especially the ones sold in the small diner near to my high school. What’s your favorite food?”
               Y/N whips her gaze away from him, “…Fried chicken intestines.”
               “Whoa,” Yoongi turns to her, eyes wide in amusement, “So I got you your favorite food right off the bat yesterday? I didn’t know it will be this easy. This is amazing.”
               Y/N pointedly looks at him, “Shut up. How many crushes did you ever have?”
               “W-what?”
               “Just answer it,” Y/N grits her teeth.
               “Fine,” Yoongi relents, “One.”
               “O-one?” Y/N sputters, “Oh my God. You’re a lovesick puppy.”
              Yoongi furrows his forehead, “What are you talking about?”
              Y/N covers her mouth in disbelief, “I can’t believe Jeon Seoyeon is your first crush at what age, 29? Oh my God, Yoongi.”
               “What?” Yoongi chokes out, “I-I’m not into her!”
               “Say that when you’re not blushing like hell then I’ll believe you,” Y/N smirks, “Next question.”
               “No, I do not have a crush on her!” Yoongi insists, “Where did you even get such ridiculous speculation?!”
               Y/N grins, “I’ll count that as a question. I got it from Mina”
               “What?!”
               “My turn to ask now, Min,” Y/N asserts, “What’s your first job?”
               “Video editor in an advertising firm. Small company,” Yoongi looks at her, “How many crushes did you have and what’s your first job?”
               “I’ll count that as two questions,” Y/N smiles. “Crushes? Three. One of them upgraded from that. First job? Well, I was a secretary in a news company. J&M.”
               “J&M?” Yoongi gapes, “That’s like, the top one news company in the country. I didn’t know you worked for them.”
              “Well, it’s horrible,” Y/N grimaces, “I hated every single minute I spent in there. Didn’t even know why I stayed there for two years. The days just,” Y/N sighs, waving a hand, “seems to pass like a blur.”
               “Two years? And the next two you spent in Travel Loca?” Yoongi hums, “What did you do when you were 21?”
               Y/N turns to him, fully facing him now, “I’m just going to tell you this for the sake of ending this ‘date’ as soon as possible. You don’t get to speak about this in the office, okay?.” Yoongi nods. Y/N closes her eyes, “Okay, I spent two years after graduation home studying and doing part-time. Even if I had Latin honors, the companies I wanted to apply in won’t accept me because apparently, I’m too young. I graduated from college when I was 19. Skipped two years in high school. My grades were enough to get me accelerated,” Y/N looks down at her hands, “It’s one of my achievements I’m really proud of. But…it ended up producing more cons than pros in the long run.”
               “Don’t say that,” Y/N looks up at Yoongi. Yoongi smiles, “That’s still an achievement worthy of being proud of, you know? Everyone wants to get out of high school as soon as they can. But not everyone gets to really do it.”
               Y/N gapes at him. Why is Min Yoongi suddenly giving her encouragement like this? Her, out of all people? From what she remembers, Yoongi is her biggest critic in the office. Whenever an opportunity opens for her making a mistake, Yoongi catches it and will definitely not pass up a chance to throw her criticisms or petty insults.  And now, he’s spouting comforting words?! Min Yoongi is anything but comforting!— Y/N looks away. It’s getting late. It’s just the long night taking a toll on them. She fixes their leftovers in their paper bag, “What are your most embarrassing moments? Do you have a pet? Favorite movie? Favorite song?”
               “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Yoongi holds a hand up, “Four questions in one go?”
               “Yes, four,” Y/N glances at him, then proceeds back to tidying up, “It’s getting late. We have to end the game soon.”
               “But you already know I have a pet, that’s cheating—”
               “It’s not cheating. We still get to ask 20 questions,” Y/N deadpans. “ You only have four questions left. I have two. Now, answer my questions, Min, because I want to go home.”
               Yoongi sighs, “Fine. I have a pet. A dog named Holly. Everyone knows—including you because there’s nothing else I post in my social media but him. Favorite movie is Minority Report. I like the twist in the end and it’s notion against predetermined futures even if the whole system in the story world is about determining crimes supposed to happen in the future. Favorite song has to be, uhh….anything made by Lorde. Love the calm in her rough and edged beats and the unadulterated honesty in her tracks. I have a lot of favorite songs but the first one that came to my mind when I want to play something again and again was her songs so that’s that. And, most embarrassing moment?” Yoongi eyes Y/N but she only continues to keep her gaze on her lap. He sighs, “Well, it has to be when I have to repeat years while studying. Two years in fact.”
              At this, Y/N glances at him. Yoongi pulls a straight smile, “I have to repeat one year in elementary because we moved houses in the middle of the school year because of a job offer. That’s alright though. Dad got a better job out of it and we lived more comfortably. But what hurt was when I have to repeat my fourth year. My thesis paper was okay. But…I flunked the defense big time. I can’t talk for shit back then. I mean, until now, I’m still having a hard time because I don’t really like hanging out with a lot of people. But past me was a real mess. Had a breakdown just right when it’s my turn with the panel. And you know how big of a deal thesis writing is to graduate Junior High. Because of that, my appeals were of course rejected by the board. So, I have to repeat that year again until I pass the thesis writing. It’s embarrassing that I get to see my batchmates graduate to senior high while I’m still stuck in junior high. In the very last year, of all years. It’s even more embarrassing to my family.”
               Y/N bites her lip. She leans nearer to Yoongi, “But, they still treated you..okay, right?”
               “I’ll count that as a question,” Yoongi sing-songs, winking at Y/N.
               Y/N frowns, “I’m being serious.”
               “Okay, okay,” Yoongi chuckles, raising his hands in surrender. “But it still means you only got one question left.”
               “It’s okay. I wanted to end my turn as soon as possible. Answer my question, Yoongi.”
               “Okay,” Yoongi smiles, “Well, my parents never told it in my face, but I know they still see it as a disappointing waste of one year. It’s a different case with my relatives though but it doesn’t matter much. What only matters is my family. We’re fine now. My parents look like they don’t mind anymore of what happened during high school.”
               “That’s good then,” a small smile forms on Y/N’s face.
               “Yeah,” Yoongi says, smiling wider.
              The two fall into silence as the music in the car changes. Abba’s Take a Chance on Me starts to play. When it reaches the chorus, Yoongi decides to break the awkwardness that has suddenly settled in the air, “What’s your last question, Y/N?”
              “O-oh,” Y/N  fiddles with her cardigan, “uh, well…Oh! I already told you my definition of a date, but you never told me yours. How would you like a date to be?”
              “It’s a secret,” Yoongi grins.
              “What?!” Y/N exclaims, “A secret?! Why would that be a secret?! Do you know we’re supposed to have more dates to seal the holiday vacation for sure? It would help a lot if we know how we each want our dates to go so we can deal with each other a lot less stressful than it already is!”
              “My answer is still ‘secret,’” Yoongi smiles smugly, crossing his arms. “Also, you already spent all your questions. It’s my turn from now on.”
              “Fine,” Y/N bites back, frown deepening when she hears Yoongi chuckle.
              “How many times have you dyed your hair?”
              “One,” Y/N gives him a challenging stare.
              “How many times have you traveled locally?”
               “Three.”
               “What’s your lucky number?”
               “Fourteen.”
               “What’s your number?”
               “01048648564—wait, no!”
               “Okay, thank you!” Yoongi pulls up his phone.
               “Wait, Yoongi!” Y/N tries to snatch his phone from his grip. Yoongi turns away, successfully clicking ‘add contact’ with a wide grin on his face.
               Yoongi tucks the phone back into his pants’ pocket. He peers over the car’s dashboard and gasps dramatically, “Oh, well look at that, it’s already getting late. My, my, 10:32 P.M.” He looks at Y/N, grinning widely, “We better get the date document so we can get going now, huh?”
               Y/N scowls at him. Yoongi snickers as he gets out of the car. It only takes five minutes before he goes back onto the parking lot, waving a pale pink envelope in the air.
               Yoongi pulls away from the parking lot, “So shall I now drive you home?”
            ��  Y/N frowns as she looks away from him, focusing on the dark streets outside.
               “What’s your address, hmm?” Yoongi prods, a beaming smile still on his face.
              A beat passes. Y/N closes her eyes and sighs. “Drop me at the Village Estates. 27th Street, East Drive.”
               “Okay,” Yoongi chirps and keys in the address in the car’s navigator.
               The ride is silent with only the car music serving as the white noise. Y/N has lost track of the tracks that played in the speakers. She doesn’t tear her eyes away from the window for the entirety of the ride until Yoongi pulls in front of her apartment complex.
               “We’re here.”
               Y/N pushes the door open and wordlessly gets out of the car. She doesn’t wait on the pavement to see Yoongi off nor does she turns around to look at the man one last time. She just walks off. But before she gets inside the main entrance, she hears Yoongi holler behind her, “Tonight was fun, yeah, Y/N?”
               Y/N, still with her back turned to him, raises a hand to dismissively wave goodbye.
               “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then,” Yoongi laughs. Soon after, the street was silent again.
              Y/N arrives in a quiet flat. There are no re-runs of a show playing on the TV. There is also no clamor of the utensils in their kitchen. Only the light on their narrow entrance hall was left lit open. There’s also a bowl of porridge covered on the table. When Y/N rounds on Mina’s room, she finds her bestfriend peacefully snoring deep in her duvet. Y/N smiles. After cleaning up and running a quick bath, Y/N reaches an arm to turn off her bedside lamp only to realize this silence of the night is not for long. Because the moment Y/N lays her head on her pillow, her phone rings with a loud ‘ding!’
               Unknown Number: Just wanna let you know I got home safe. I had fun tonight. You’re already forgiven for yesterday, sweetheart 😉.
               Y/N groans and throws her phone onto the other side of the bed.
prev  |  next | series masterlist
Tumblr media
Taglist | @fangirls94​ @ditttiii​ @chogiyeol-utopia​​
Disclaimer: The dark side banter in Day 1 was based on Rob Reiner’s (1989) When Harry Met Sally’s car scene! I just loved the characters’ chemistry so much! That being said, all scenes and references from the movie used in this story are the property of its respective owners.  The rest belongs to the author. This work is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N pt. 2 | Hi hons! Sorry this chapter came a little later than my original schedule. A lot has changed in the plot points of THH while I was outlining it. Hence, the supposed two-shot is now a series with five chapters! I didn’t expect my first series will be like this. It’s totally unexpected from my initial plans! Anyway, the Act 2 is supposed to comprise the whole 2nd act of the story. But as I was writing it, I noticed I’m already bordering the 35k wordcount (and I’m not yet near the end of the 2nd act asdfghjkl). So I decided to cut it into 2 parts so I may not overwhelm you with a gigantic word-vomit of a text post. I guess the cut was also a good device because the 2nd part of Act 2 is on a different tone from the 1st part.  Thank you for reading this 24k monstrosity and feel free to say what you think about this chapter! If you want to get added in the taglist, just hit me up in the PMs or Asks! I’ll be waiting there ~( > v < )~
All Rights Reserved © Vanaera. Reposts, modifications, and translations of content are not allowed.
341 notes · View notes
revengeoftheantichrist · 4 years ago
Text
What Kind of Man
Warnings: recovering from injury, possessive behaviour    AO3  <<<Previous
Chapter 6: Haze
You woke to the sensation of someone running their fingers through your hair. Slowly opening your eyes; it must have been the afternoon. You don’t remember going to bed. You started to whimper; your leg hurt so much. Why did it hurt? What happened while you wandered the halls? “Shh shh my love, it’s alright, you’ll be better soon,” cooed the voice. You looked up, confused, why was Michael here? “M- Michael, why are you here a day early? Did something happen?” you questioned. As you tried to get up, the pain in your leg shot through you, bringing tears to your eyes. He gently pushed you back down, wiping the tears. “It’s Friday my dear,” he stated. “What do you mean its Friday? I went for a walk on Monday. And why does my leg hurt?” the questions just spilled out of you. Michael lay next to you, holding your hand in his, stroking it with his thumb. Just feeling the warmth again calmed you down a little. “I arrived on Wednesday,” he started. “Mrs Mead found you in the servants’ hallway on Monday night. You had collapsed from your fever and set fire to your night gown in the process. The fire was put out, but …” he hesitated. “your leg has been burnt a little.” A wave of nausea hit you. You finally looked down to your leg, it was wrapped in gauze. As you looked you felt the pain get worse, finally acknowledging your injury. “The shock and the fever combined had you out cold for a few days. You did wake occasionally, albeit you were a little delirious.” “H-How bad is it?” you asked. “second degree nearer to your foot, first up to your thigh. Mrs Mead had put you out very quickly. The physician is due to visit today to check the progress, to see if it’ll scar or not,” he explained. You started to cry. From the pain, from the fever, from the turn your fate seemed to have taken since you married this man. Why had the universe been so cruel to you? Who had you wronged? Had you done something in your past life and was this your punishment? He pulled you into his chest, warm arms enveloping you. He stroked his fingers through your forehead, letting you sob into him wholeheartedly. “I want to se my m-mother,” you cried. “Oh little dove, I was already on my way back before any letters could reach me. You know I would have brought her with me if I could, I’d give you the moon if u asked.” You cried until you tired out, but the pain was still unbearable. You just wanted to be held and to sleep. “No sleeping for you Mrs Langdon, you need to eat something before you put your head down again,” Michael stated. As if on que, Mrs Mead came in with a tray of food. A hearty soup and some bread, the same as before. “Dinner time seems to be the crying hour for you,” she joked. You pressed you face further into Michaels chest, embarrassed at her observation. She set the tray down and left, leaving just you and your husband. He rearranged the pillows so you could sit up comfortably and brought you meal over. As you reached for your soup, he slapped your hand away. “You’re sick, I’ll help you.” “Michael, my leg is burnt, not my hands,” you stated. “That is of no concern to me, now say ‘ahh’,” he replied, holding the spoon up to you. You hesitated and looked away before opening your mouth. You knew he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. He fed you the rest of the meal; time flew as you asked about his trip, wanting to take your mind off the pain. //// You had fallen asleep again by the time the doctor had arrived. Woken by a cold press on your forehead, your fever had returned. “Good afternoon Lady Langdon, its nice to see you finally awake. I’m Dr Montgomery and it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he introduced. You could only nod in reply, the pain making you unable to speak. “I’ve already checked your leg; Medina has changed the dressing. I suggest bed rest until next week. The wound will take a few weeks to fully heal; you’re extremely lucky, the wound isn’t too deep so scarring will be minimal,” he finished. “Will it still hurt?” you asked. “Your pain should reduce in a few days, however your fever is making it feel worse, so I have prescribed some Laudanum. All I can suggest for your illness is rest, and that too shall pass.” “Why am I sick?” you asked again. Dr Montgomery sighed, “It isn’t uncommon in new brides. Especially moving from the south to the north. It’s a sort of homesickness. The faster you get accustomed to the temperature and new surroundings, the better.” Something deep in your gut told you that he was lying, your sickness was caused by something else. And what about your nightmares? What could explain those? A simple fever could not be the culprit. But you kept your mouth shut, this man was not to be trusted. He left you alone with Medina, and you drifted off again. //// The laudanum was helping with the pain, but the constant daze it kept you in frustrated you. Michael had moved his office into your room for now to keep an eye on you; you had tried to leave the room far too many times to leave you unattended. The rustling of paper and the scratch of the pen remined you that you were being watched. Despite that, you still tried to get out of bed. “How many times do you have to be put back in bed?” you heard from the other side of the room. His tone was stern. “I’m getting sick of staying in bed all day,” you slurred out. Michael sighed and walked over to you. He lifted you and carried you over to his desk, sitting down and placing you in his lap. “There, now you’re not in bed.” You couldn’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed. He adjusted you so the pair of you were comfortable. The scratching of the pen starting again. “what are you doing,” you asked. “I’m finalising plans for a trip.” “You’re leaving again?” “I’m taking you with me. Once your leg is healed enough, we’ll be going to Paris,” he smiled at you. Paris. How you hated the sound of that city. Your brother’s stories echoing through your head, the anger breaking through the haze of the medication. “I don’t want to go.” “Why not, it’ll be our honeymoon and it truly is a beautiful city, quite romantic at night.” You answered before you could stop yourself, “of course you’d know all about the city at night.” Michael stopped writing, putting his pen down and inhaling. “And what do you mean by that hmm?” “Nothing,” you replied, you could feel the rage building inside him. He grabbed your face, making you look up at him. “Answer me properly. What are you talking about?” “My brother spoke about your grand tour,” you mumbled. His nostrils flared and his grip on your jaw tightened enough to bruise. The drugs only allowed you the feel the pressure and not the pain that would have come with such a tight grip. You winced anyway. “Gabriel needs his tongue cut out it seems.” “Sho itsh all true then?” you tried to get out, he was still squishing your cheeks. He finally let go of your face. Pushing your hair from your face and stroking your jaw instead. “I am a changed man Y/N. I was a different person two years ago. I was young and unmarried. I’d be a fool to betray you in such a way,” he sighed. “I’d kill you if your ever did,” you smiled at him, the Laudanum seemed to have removed all filters, making you say what was on your mind. You lightly pecked his lips, settling into his chest for another nap. //// You had been given the clear for your bandages to come off, and your fever had gone. You decided to have a bath while you were alone for the first time in almost two weeks. The water was a little cooler than you would have liked it to be, but you didn’t want to agitate your burns. You tried to relax, thinking about the past few weeks of your life. You had been married almost a month now. There was a sense of foreboding before you walked down the aisle that day; every single event since has just made it worse. The nightmares, Michael’s volatile attitude, the painting and now being scarred for life; it all weighed heavy on you. You think that you might be driven insane, or maybe even killed. You didn’t know. would you even last the year? The painting. You had forgotten about it in all the commotion. It had scared you enough to almost die. Why was Michael’s mothers face painted over? Did he want to forget her? Your thoughts stopped in their tracks as the feeling of being watched overwhelmed you. Just like the first night you were here. You got out of the tub, carefully drying yourself off before heading to the dressing room. //// The dressing room was cold as usual, making goose bumps rise all over your skin. You caught a glimpse of your scar in the mirror, moving your robe aside to get a closer look. It started just above your ankle, all the way up to your outer hip. You let your robe hang loosely around your shoulders, as you untied it to inspect the top of the scar. The skin there was sensitive, it felt different to the healthy skin around it. It made you a little self-conscious. No one would ever see it, but you would always know it was there, a reminder of the fear you let overcome you, of your fragile state of mind. You felt weak, so far from the girl you used to be. Your reputation in the local area of your home was one of an intelligent and brave girl, a tongue so sharp that even the priest had banned you from attending church on occasions. But here you were now, pathetic, letting your dreams out of all things, control your actions. “it seems that Aphrodite herself has blessed me with her presence today.” You quickly went to retie your robe and cover your leg, but Michael stopped you before you could. He rested his chin on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirror. His hair was damp, and he donned a robe; he must have had a bath too. His pulled your robe aside, exposing you leg to him. You wished he would never see it. “Don’t you see what I see? Does the mirror not show you the form that occupies my mind?” he asked, as he trailed his fingers over your scar, you almost wept at the tenderness of his touch. He let go of your waist, moving in front of you before he knelt down. “Michael! What are you doing? Get up from there please!” you cried out. This man, who many saw as a god, had knelt before you. He looked at you with a hunger and devotion seen in the faces of the worshippers in temples of the ancient world. He paid no mind to your distress. Instead moving to kiss your scar. He started at your ankle, looking up at you as he made his way up, leaving no part untouched. He stopped briefly to pull the stool behind you, making you sit down. Without a word, he started working his way up to the inside of your thighs, alternating between kisses and little bites. His actions ignited a fire in your belly. Making you shift around to alleviate some of the tension you were feeling. He stopped and rested his cheek on your thigh, you ran your fingers through his now dry hair. “There’s a hunger in me that only you can satiate,” he whispered. He pried your thighs apart, looking directly at your wet folds. “You wouldn’t be cruel enough to let me starve, now would you?” He ran his fingers through your wetness, making you moan and grip his hair. He hooked his arms around your thighs, pulling you towards his face. You had to hold the edge of the stool to stop yourself from falling back. He licked a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit. The sensation was so foreign to you, but you wanted more. He licked and sucked on your lips and clit, like a man truly starved. You felt his groans vibrating through you, bringing you closer to the edge. “M- Michael, that feels so good,” you moaned out. You could feel him smirk as you gripped his hair tighter, lightly scratching his scalp in appreciation. He dove in further, his nose pressed against you as he fucked you with his tongue. He felt you begin to tighten around him and moved up to suck on your clit, he looked you in the eyes as he brought you over the edge, licking you through your aftershocks. Both of you were breathing heavily as he finally pulled away, looking up at you with your juices covering the bottom half of his face. He got up and pulled you into a hungry kiss, tasting yourself on him. “You taste divine.” You could see his hardness through his robe. You averted your gaze, “can I return the favour? “My my, my little dove has gotten bolder hmm?” moving to make eye contact with you. “Some other time, I do not want to agitate the burn and I need to be inside you.” He pulled you from the stool, sitting down, before seating you on his lap to face the mirror. “I need you to see what I see,” he said, as he untied his robe, bringing out his dick and running it over the wetness of your folds. You mewled and tried not to look in the mirror. “Look at us as I push into you,” he ordered, “look at your greedy pussy swallowing me whole.” He pushed into you, making you watch as he did so, the sight making you wetter than before. He bottomed out with a groan and sat still. He brought your hand over your stomach, pressing it down. “Can you feel me inside you? I’m so deep.” You pressed further and made him hiss. He gripped your hips, lifting you up and down, you matched your pace with his. The pair of you mesmerised by the sight of the image in the mirror, the sight of him splitting you in half. You turned to kiss him, your tongues dancing as you picked up the pace. Neither of you lasted long, you were already sensitive from before; he was (you hoped) pent up from all those days away. The coil finally snapped, you squeezed around him with cries of his name. He followed behind, painting your insides with his seed. He pulled out and you both watched as your mixed fluids seeped out of you. “Look at yourself, you must be a goddess,” Michael stated. You looked at your fucked-out form in the mirror, lips swollen from kisses, hair mussed, and skin covered in a sheen of sweat from the exertion. In the haze of pleasure, you could almost mistake yourself for a carnal version of Botticelli’s ‘Venus’. You smiled at the thought. “We’ll need to bathe again,” you pointed out, making you and Michael laugh. //// You had your second bath of the day together. Getting ready for the evening; dinner would be served in your room as you needed to sleep early; you left for Paris tomorrow. Michael had brushed and braided your hair, and you had done the same for him. As you waited for MRs Mead to bring your meal, Michael had brought out a box, one that you had recognised. “Your mother sent this for you, your embroidery seems to be quite well known in the area and she was surprised you forgot to pack your materials.” Michael handed you the box. It was your grandmothers, then your mothers, and now it was yours. How had you forgotten your most prized possession? “Thank you so much Michael,” you hugged him. “It’s a family heirloom,” you explained, opening the compartments. You floss and needles were just as you left them. Michael reclined next to you, watching you inspect the item. “I’m sure it’ll continue to be passed down generations of Langdons,” he said. You blushed at the thought of children, you hadn’t given it much thought before. “I’ll take you to the finest cloth merchants Paris has to offer to get more materials for your liking,” he smiled at you. “I’m sure Mrs Venebale will know some locally?” “Nonsense. Why go to Paris if not to take full advantage of what the city has to offer? We can also see what the new seasons fashions are.” You raised your eyebrow, “I see, this tip is for you to dress yourself isn’t it?” “Well my love, the wardrobe does not curate itself. Personal shopping trips are must in high society,” he winked at you. You laughed and shook your head, thinking about your next project, trying to calm your nerves for the trip.
Next>>>
7 notes · View notes
mrspillow · 5 years ago
Text
Happy Birthday (Sting Eucliffe x Reader)
Tumblr media
The day had been normal, in fact so awfully normal that you couldn’t quite understand how that was possible. How the hell could just this one day be so boring and unexciting as you never thought it possibly could be when being part of a guild as Sabertooth?
In fact, it was the only day that you never thought to ever be normal.
Because it was your freaking birthday, the day that was undoubtedly thought to excite you the most.
You thought of it the second you opened your eyes in the morning and you weren’t able to pry that thought off your mind. Now, rest assured, normally you weren’t that excited for something that would happen either way and every year.
But still, this year was so very special for you because it was the first time in forever that you actually got to celebrate it with people whose company you enjoyed more than anything. Sure, there had been your parents and some friends you had during your childhood, but that had been it.
But now, that you finally – after such a long time of working hard on getting better and practicing with everything you got – finally, were a member of the infamous Sabertooth guild, you felt at peace. With Sting as a master, the guild had made nothing but progress and the people you would meet every morning in the guildhall were the people that you loved the most.
As fast as you could without being in a hurry, you got ready, ate something and went straight out the door and closed it behind you to get onto your way to the guild.
It was not a long way to go, but today, it felt even shorter than it was. Near your apartment went a river to downtown which you followed in a modest, but not slow tempo with a skip in your step one or two times. Brushing a blown-over strand of your (h/c) hair out of your face and behind your ear, you let your thoughts drift off.
Did they remember your birthday? You remembered the books you read where the protagonist was always surprised by the party the threw for him. Would they do the same for you? 
A grin appeared your face when you thought about the day of Yukino’s birthday. The moment the white-haired girl had entered the door to the guildhall, everyone had shouted a ‘Happy Birthday!’ at her, swinging confetti through the air and waving happily. Yukino had been so surprised and happy that she was even crying out of happiness.
You pushed yourself out of these daydreams when you neared the entrance that was wide open so that everyone could walk straight in. Taking in a short breath, you stopped for a short amount of time before getting in as well to start your day at Sabertooth.
One minute, two minutes, five minutes went by and nothing happened. 
Not a single person in this room made a move, uttered not even a word to show that they remembered your birthday. Confused, you stood in the middle of the hall, somewhere between hoping that just one of your guildmates would remember and feeling like all of the let you down and not even knew it.
Was it a bit childish of you to expect them to? Maybe.
Did it hurt like hell to know that even the people which you spent the whole day with forgot? Definitely.
Urging yourself to do more than just stand there like an idiot, you did only a few steps to the nearest table, taking a seat next to Sting, who barely nodded, welcoming you. Lector was busy sitting with Frosch and discussing the newest encounter with Charle while the other exceed was busy scratching over a paper with his colorful crayons, working on his masterpiece.
“Sooo… how’s it going?” You asked, taking a look at all of them “Something new?”
Stings eyebrows furrowed in an annoyed and bored manner, staring up at the ceiling as if there was something that would get him out of this.
“Nah”, he answered and moved his arms forward and over the table to stretch “Not a single thing.”
Rogue nodded in agreement while Yukino stayed silent, her dark eyes locked onto the surface of the wooden table with a gaze you could not quite place.
“Nothing”, you repeated shallowly and went silent. This day had started so well that you would have never thought it would turn out like this. 
Like a day so normal that nothing exciting ever happened.
Except for the ache that came from the tiny crack in your heart. Especially these people, the ones you spent most of your time with, laughing, joking and sometimes even crying together. It was like yesterday that you went in here for the first time in your life, stunned by the high ceiling of the building and the many members that swarmed around, taking jobs or a day out. You still know how unsure you were if they would even take you, an unexperienced wizard with only average talent and charisma that clearly needed some polishing.
And in this time, a certain blond took you by the hand, making you feel at home from the first day since. Sting had smiled at you, took that administration sheet out of your hand and pulled you back to the main hall where he had introduced you to all the members the guild had to offer. The White Dragon Slayer had not needed more than a day to get you to like him immediately.
And now the moment had come where you had to admit that none of those feelings of adoration or simple happiness about being with him would possibly be returned.
‘Don’t make such a fuss over something as simple and childish as a birthday, (Y/N).’ you told herself, ignoring the lump in your throat as far as possible. But even still, you felt betrayed. Ever since you were a young child your parents had told you that would someone care about you, they would remember everything that made you you.
All of them had asked for your birthday, more than once, and they seemed so mindful and caring. You had to admit that you had believed in at least some of them to remember the date. Yes, Sting had his moments where he’d forget the things, he wanted to do just seconds before, but in the most serious of times, he had never forgotten something about you.
Sighing, you stood up from the table, ignoring Rogue’s side glance at you and excusing yourself, saying you would take a job. No one offered to go with you, not even polite Yukino but you did not dare to ask one of them if they wanted out of fear the would turn you down.
Pressing your mouth shut to make sure no noise would leave those treacherous lips of yours, you went over to the Request Board, taking a random sheet of paper into your hands and walking straight to the entrance from which you had come just minutes ago.
“(Y/N)!”, a familiar voice shouted from behind you and made you turn around just to look into the sky-blue eyes aimed at you. His smile stretched from cheek to cheek as he waved at you and you waved back, feeling a little bit relieved.
“Promise you won’t do anything reckless, will you?”, he shouted as you left the guildhall to make your way to the carriages and out of town. 
Watching you disappear out of sight, Sting turned around to the group that was still seated at the table and he sighed and slumped back down onto the chair.
“She looked sad that nobody mentioned something”, Yukino threw in and made a guilty face, looking sideways.
“I know”, the blond answered and crossed his arms in front of his shoulders “But she will be even more excited when she sees the surprise when she comes back! I’m sure about that!”
Confidently he grinned at his friends as all of them got to work.
Oh god, it fucking hurt. That was now how it was supposed to go, definitely not.
Bringing your upper body against a nearby tree and leaning your head on the wet bark of the tree, sighing. Everything in your sight was still spinning and you felt like you were going to puke any second now.
When you had taken that job from the Request Board you had not looked onto the type of that request until you were at the carriages to know where you were going. It was a Quest like the ones you had already taken before but always with the help of someone else, most of the time Sting.
You had looked down onto the piece of paper, then shortly back to where the guild was down the road but you could not bring yourself to turn around and ask someone for help just because you weren’t able to take on a few thieves on your own.
From then on, you had been so motivated and self-confident in your powers. You had trained months, years and slowly you were gaining enough experience to do it on your own, like a wizard of Sabertooth.
But hell, had you underestimated those folks. Not only were there more than you had expected when the major of a nearby town had told you about their problem but also had them been equipped with weapons sharp enough to cut you even with only a small graze. And you had nobody to cover your back.
So, basically, it was clear that you would not be able to get out of this unscathed but the pounding in your leg was unbearable still. And frankly, you considered yourself quite lucky that you weren’t hurt that fatally but only with some broken bones and somewhere on the downside of a slope.
At first, it had been nothing more than the usual beating up of those thieves but the longer the fight continued the more tired you got until it was nothing more than a question of time that you were getting hurt.
You did not even notice one of the other thieves sneaking up from behind you until  he was pushing you down from the road and into the woods, rolling down with no way to stop until you crashed legs first against the stone that came nearly out of nowhere.
On the bright side of it, those thieves hadn’t bothered to look for you to take you down for real this time. Sadly though, your right leg seemed to have taken it worse because just turning your leg a bit felt like fire running through your veins.
When you finally sat up to look at your surroundings your eyes caught your bag only a few feet away so you snatched it quickly to look after the communication lacrima which you remembered you put in there.
Feeling the item you pulled it out only to reveal the cracks in the surface with no possibility that you could get it to work again to call someone – anyone.
Sighing, you closed your eyes and you thought crossed your mind. Sting would be so, so angry with you when he found out that you hadn’t asked anyone for help and failed the job. He would probably yell at you for being so stupid and right now you could only agree.
Shuffling a bit over the ground you tried to get both of your legs to at least do something that reminded of walking but as soon as it came to your right leg it failed miserably, leaving you on the ground.
“Great, just great”, you mumbled to yourself as you dusted some dirt from your clothes and stared at the sky, somewhat angry. If it went on like that, there was no other way but for you to wait for some passers-by or the guys from Sabertooth getting suspicious about your lack of return.
Even your surroundings seemed to be abandoned and so far away from the street that you doubted people would find you soon and there weren’t many options except getting help and waiting for help but the latter was perhaps the best idea in your kind of state.
And so, you started shouting occasionally, hoping that by some miracle, someone would find you.
You had been sitting at that stone for hours, shouting until your lungs burned, and your throat hurt but with the dwindling daylight, it became so cold that you just wanted to get away from here, as fast as possible. And so, you went on with shouting.
When the sun touched the horizon and filled the woods with a rainbow of red, orange, and purple you became quiet for a moment just to watch the spectacle until a familiar voice drew your attention.
“(Y/N)!”, someone shouted, voice echoing through the woods but nonetheless so clear that you did not doubt who it possibly could be. “Where are you?”
Taking in a breath and shouted from the top of your lungs you tried everything to not cry from the happiness of being found before you would spend the whole night in the woods, alone.
“I’m here!”, you answered, and steps became louder until the blond hair made your heart skip a beat. Sting came running down the slope, only stopping his running when he stood just in front of you, his chest heaving up and down.
The next thing you knew, the White Dragon Slayer was looking at you with those deep blue eyes but you did not found the expected anger in them. There was nothing but worry and relief that these orbs mirrored.
“I’ve been looking for you for hours!”, he started once he caught his breath, crossing the both of his arms in front of his chest and mustering you with such a serious gaze that you shuddered. His eyes traveled to your leg, clearly seeing how injured it was. He furrowed his brows.
“You promised me you weren’t going to be reckless!” he said, his voice coming out sharper than he had planned, but he couldn’t care less “You promised!”
“Sorry”, you whispered and gulped hard. Fumbling with your fingers you looked at the ground and away from the blond and wishing nothing more than that the ground would swallow you altogether.
Sting sighed and knelt beside you, suddenly feeling a calmness overcoming him and he smiled.
“I’m just happy that you’re okay” his look came back to your leg “Kind off, at least.”
Without even a further word, he scooped you up effortlessly. You squeaked from the sudden lift into the air and your hands clanged to his vest in fear of him letting you fall (not that he would ever do that, but you couldn’t be sure).
“And now”, he stated, “We’re going back to Sabertooth and we will get you a proper birthday party.”
“Wha…?”
“You didn’t really think we would forget, did you?”
Maybe today hadn’t been such a normal day after all but in all the good ways.
162 notes · View notes
wonderful-writer · 5 years ago
Text
03 - Acid Fog
Summary: As Clarke attempts to heal Jasper, Y/n meets a young girl by the name of Charlotte. She soon finds herself trapped in a cave with Charlotte and Bellamy, and reveals some information about herself that she never thought she would tell anyone.
Word Count: 4.44k
Based off: 01x03 “Earth Skills”
Tumblr media
You sat by Clarke’s side as she timed a groaning Jasper’s pulse with her father’s watch. He moaned loudly from the top floor of the dropship as you pushed his damp hair from his face. You ignored the people yelling to keep him quiet because right now there wasn’t anything you could do.
“Don’t listen to them, okay?” Clarke told you. “He’ll make it through this, I promise.” You nodded as a few tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.
“Jasp, you’re gonna be fine, okay? I’ll be right here with you.” You told him before following Clarke to get more water, leaving Monty to watch over him. As you exited the dropship you heard a young girl yell out, nabbing both yours and Clarke’s attention. You told her you would take care of it so she could get the water.
You cautiously and attentively made your way to the source of the screams, where a girl who looked about 12 years old was curled up against the tree, shifting and screaming in her sleep. You approached her with a cautious air and shook her awake.
She jolted up and you assured her that you were friendly and there was no need to be scared, that it was just a dream. “You’re Charlotte, right? I’m Y/n.”
She pulled her knees up to her chest and secured them with her arms, eyes cast downward to the forest floor. “It’s okay to be scared, everyone has nightmares.” You moved to lean against the tree, offering to talk about her dream.
“It’s... It’s my parents,” She began, voice thick with unshed tears. “They were floated and I- And I see it in my dreams and I just-” She cried, cutting herself off.
“I understand. My mother was floated, and I didn’t have a dad.” She looked at you in what looked like sympathy or comfort over a shared loss. “So how did you end up here?” You asked.
She looked away, back towards the forest in front of her before responding. “Well... We were taking my parents’ things to the redistribution centre and I kind of lost it.” She looked over at you and spoke again. “They said I assaulted a guard.”
“I can’t say I blame you,” You told her. “I attacked a guard, too. Well, three, to be exact.” You shared, feeling a small weight lift off of your lungs. The only ones who knew were your father, your grandmother, and Jasper.
Looking up at the sky, and then back to Charlotte, you pointed. “You see that bright star up in the sky?” She nodded.
“That’s the Ark, orbiting above us,” you said as you turned to her again. “I think, whatever happened up there; You know, the pain, the darkness, maybe we get to move past it. Maybe because we’re on the ground we can have a fresh start, a second chance.”
“Do you really believe that?” Charlotte asked.
“I’m trying to.” You watched a lone tear streak down her dirt covered face, leaving a clean streak among it. You wrapped an arm around her in comfort as she wiped the tears off of her face, leaning her head on your shoulder.
You rubbed her arm with your hand and told her, “Get some sleep. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
And as she fell asleep, you gazed up at the Ark, praying you were right.
Tumblr media
You helped Clarke clean Jasper’s wounds again as his moans of pain echoed throughout the small camp. No one was happy about the amount of noise he was making, but if anyone had a problem with it, they would have to come to you. You’d been itching for a fight recently and maybe, just maybe, someone would give it to you.
“This is infected, he could be septic.” Clarke worried. “Monty, any progress on using the wristbands to contact the Ark?” Clarke asked as Monty stopped his work, eyes fixed on his possibly dying best friend.
“Monty?” Clarke asked, aggravated.
“That would be a firm no.” You let out a worried sigh as Clarke shook her head. You focused on keeping Jasper’s volume levels down, humming a lullaby your mother used to sing to you when you were little. It worked a little, the sounds of you humming “Over The Rainbow” to your brother.
Your volume increased frantically as Finn and Wells held him down while Clarke reopened the infected wound to cut away whatever was infected. You felt like you were yelling from how loud you hummed, trying to keep Jasper calm, even though it wasn’t working. His head pulled to the side in your lap as he passed out, while Octavia and Bellamy climbed the ladder. 
“Stop it! You’re killing him!” She exclaimed.
“She’s trying to save his life,” Finn corrected.
“She can’t,” Bellamy countered, causing you to glare at him.
“We didn’t drag him through miles of woods just to let him die.” You said, looking down at Jasper.
“Kid’s a goner. If you can’t see that, you’re deluded. He’s making people crazy.” Bellamy said.
“Look, I’m sorry if Jasper’s an inconvenience to you, but this isn’t the Ark. Down here, every life matters.” You rebutted, glaring up at Bellamy.
His eyes bore holes into yours. “Take a look at him. He’s a lost cause.” You broke eye contact with Bellamy to take a glance at Jasper as Octavia pressed a cold cloth to his forehead.
“Y/n, I’ve spent my whole life watching my mother heal people. If I say there’s hope, there’s hope.” Clarke reassured you and you nodded.
“This isn’t about hope, it’s about guts.” Bellamy countered. “You don’t have the guts to make the hard choices, I do.” He shot a glance to Jasper and then you, before speaking up again. 
“He’s been like this for three days. If he’s not better by tomorrow, I’m killing him myself.”
You let out a low growl at Bellamy’s statement as he walked away and down the ladder. The group talked some more about Bellamy, and after hearing Finn express that he was right you slipped your legs out from underneath Jasper’s head slowly and gently putting it to the floor before you stormed out, just where Bellamy was not a minute prior.
You were taking a mindless walk through the woods to clear your head. You couldn’t stop worrying about Jasper and Bellamy was just making things worse all around. You were looking up at the sunlight that filtered through the trees, paying no mind to the things at eye level, causing you to bump into a small figure. 
“Sorry, Charlotte!” You said, and she frantically put a finger to her lips to tell you to quiet down.
She answered the confused look you gave her by pointing to the hunting group up ahead, which Bellamy was leading. You then understood and asked her in a hushed voice, “Have you ever hunted before?”
She shook her head and you looked around you for anything to help her out a bit. You found a sharp broken branch on the forest floor, handing it to her. “Rule #1, always have a weapon.” You smiled, causing Charlotte to smile back.
“Here, bring your arm back,” You instructed, nudging her elbow. “Now spread your feet shoulder-width apart,” She did as told. “And then throw it with your body. Don’t use just your arms momentum, put your body behind the throw.” She did as told and the branch whizzed past the trees you had set as a brief aiming point.
“That was good!” You cheered quietly. “We can practice more when we get back to camp. But let’s see how the hunters are doing.” You led her in the direction of Bellamy and the other guys, who had spotted a boar.
Bellamy insisted the kill was his as the boar oinked, readying his throwing axe. As he lifted it to kill the boar, Charlotte stepped on a branch, which caused Bellamy to spin and redirect his aim, hitting the tree beside you and scaring you, Charlotte, and the boar. The others chased it as it ran off, while Bellamy approached the two of you.
“Who the hell are you?” He asked Charlotte.
“Charlotte,” she responded, still stiff from the axe.
“I almost killed you,” He looked your way. “Both of you.” He yanked the axe out of the tree as the others returned.
“Why aren’t you guys back at camp?” He asked angrily.
“Well, with that guy who was dying, I couldn’t listen anymore.” Bellamy’s gaze shifted to you as you shrugged, a smug look on your face.
“‘M bored.” You told him. He scoffed.
“There’s grounders out here. It’s not safe for a little girl.” Atom told her.
“She’s not little, Atom.” You defended.
“Okay then,” Bellamy eyed you, then Charlotte, a grin forming on his face. “But you can’t hunt without a weapon.” He told her. He took a knife from his pocket, the same knife he gave you just five days ago, and handed it over to Charlotte. He then looked over at you expectantly, to which you shrugged.He focused back on Charlotte. 
“Ever kill something before?” He asked and she shook her head in response. “Who knows, maybe you’re good at it.”
As you and Charlotte walked quietly with the hunting group, a loud horn blew from somewhere in the distance. You looked up at where it sounded and saw thick, yellow fog rolling your way. 
“Run!” You cried, taking hold of Charlotte’s hand.
“Come on, there are caves this way!” Bellamy directed, and somehow it was soon just you, him, and Charlotte running. You had no clue where the others went, your only current priority was getting yourself and Charlotte to safety.
As you reached the cave, Bellamy guided Charlotte inside and was going to do the same with you, until Atom called his name.
“Bellamy, no!” You grabbed onto his upper arm, already seeing the need to save his friend in his eyes. He looked at you and you spoke again.
“Listen, Atom’s going to be fine. He’ll find a cave and we’ll go after him tomorrow. It’s not worth dying over.” Reluctantly he and you entered the cave with Charlotte, abandoning Atom in the fog.
+++++++
As it grew darker, you had let Charlotte take the large and fluffy jacket you were wearing to act as a blanket for her to sleep in, and soon enough the nightmares had started again, waking a sleeping Bellamy. Of course, you hadn’t slept, there was no point in trying. You’d just be brought straight back to the Ark. You nodded off for about an hour every night with Jasper, but his moans of pain kept you up.
“Charlotte, wake up.” Bellamy shook her knee and she apologized for waking him. You moved closer to help comfort her like last night, but Bellamy was already on it. “Does it happen often?” He asked.
She nodded. “What are you scared of?” He asked her gently. This was shocking to you, not once had Bellamy Blake been nice to anyone, not since you’ve met him.
“You know what? It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is what you do about it.” He told her.
“But… I’m asleep.” She said quietly.
“Fears are fears.” He responded. “Slay your demons when you’re awake, they won’t be there when you’re asleep.”
“Yeah but, how?” She asked.
“You can’t afford to be weak.” He informed her. “Down here, weakness is death; fear is death.”
He paused for a moment, and you were unsure of what to do. You felt weird, sitting behind Bellamy and watching the moment. “Let me see that knife I gave you.”
She passed it to him and he began to speak again. “Now, when you feel afraid, you hold this knife tight and you say “screw you, I’m not afraid.” He handed the knife back to her so she could do what he told her.
She held it and repeated the mantra. Bellamy gave her a soft look, but she said the mantra once more, with more confidence.
He patted her knee lightly. “Slay your demons, kid. Then you’ll be able to sleep.” He turned to lean on the wall opposite yours and you kept your knees tucked into your chest, chin resting on them, shivering slightly. After all, you were in only a singlet and jeans.
You heard the rustling of fabric and you look up from your shoes to see Bellamy removing his jacket and standing up. He sat down next to you and draped his jacket over your shoulders. You welcomed the warmth but decided to say something. 
“Oh, you don’t have to give me your-”
“It’s fine, you need it more than I do.” He assured you. You blushed lightly and let your head fall.
You let the silence wash over you as you saw Charlotte sleeping peacefully. “You know what you did for her, it really helped her.”
“How do you know?” He turned his head to face you as it rested on the cool rock.
“Because I’m just like her.” You responded, finally able to meet Bellamy’s eyes without anger or hate flowing through you.
“You know; dead mother, absent father, abusive asshole for a caretaker. The usual setup for every tortured and beaten-down person.” You laughed somberly, voice thick with tears that you willed back into your eyes as you let your head fall back onto the rock wall.
“Spent about two years with him until I got fed up. Attacked him and his friends because they thought they had all the power over me just ‘cause I was a kid.” You laughed bitterly, cursing whoever designed your life to make it this bad.
“The only person I had was Jasper. He helped sometimes. Stood up for me when kids in my classes were being rude and teasing me for having no family. They were wrong, though. Jasper was my family.” You sniffed, tears escaping your eyes quietly. You wiped them away as they rolled down your cheeks, not wanting to show weakness. 
Bellamy didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know you had worse of a life than you had led everyone to believe, even though you told no one anything about yourself, and he felt like he was just making it worse. But he did what his mother did when he was upset. He slipped an arm around your shoulders and let your head fall on his shoulder. He rubbed your arm the way you did with Charlotte, putting his head on top of yours. 
“I can understand that.” He spoke. “I never actually knew my dad, and I got my mom killed; got Octavia tossed in the skybox. I was alone for two years and it was my fault. I was supposed to protect her and I screwed it up.”
You sat in silence for a while, not saying anything. After a while, Bellamy took the jacket from your shoulders and instead wrapped it around your front when he noticed you were asleep. 
As your current surroundings faded around you, eerily familiar ones replaced the cave you were in. You got up off of the bed that you lay on, confused. You walked around and saw drawings pinned to the wall, realizing where you were. You were home. 
“Y/n, sweetie, come here! Dad’s almost home!” Your mother’s voice floated through the metal door, shaking you to your core. A giggle was heard and you looked down, a younger version of yourself flying past you and to the door.
You followed, going into the common room. Your mother stood by the chairs with a smile, watching the younger you run up to her. It seemed that neither of them were able to see you, as they paid no attention to you. 
The front door opened and a younger, more lively looking Marcus walked through it with a smile. You watched yourself run up to him as he bent to catch you, scooping you into his arms and bouncing you around. Your giggles and his laugh echoed around the room, bringing tears to your eyes. You missed this life. You missed being happy.
The laughter that echoed around you started to fade and you looked around, seeing everything turn to dust and replace itself with another room, much like the one you were in on the Ark. But the atmosphere was not nearly as homely or warm. You looked around again to see yourself sitting at the table in the middle of the room, looking at the locket around your neck.
A door slammed loudly behind you and both you and your younger counterpart jumped. You turned to come face to face with someone you hoped you’d never see again. Commander Shumway stormed into the room, angry. Not like he was anything but with you either way. 
He made his way to you and grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at him with terror filled eyes as he got up in your face.
“Didn’t I tell you to clean up around here?” He yelled. The room wasn’t even that dirty, just Shumway’s unmade bed and a few bottles of moonshine on the table.
“I-I was just going to, I promise-” You stammered. He growled and shoved you out of your chair and to the floor by your hair, causing a loud smack to resonate throughout the room. Younger you whimpered and shuffled backwards as Shumway approached again, not stopping until your back hit the wall. 
“STOP! Don’t hurt her! She’s just a child!” You screamed, but nothing happened. He couldn’t hear you. No one could hear you. You were all alone with no one to save you. Just like before. You were drowning with nothing to pull you up. The screams of your younger self bounced off of the walls, along with the horrifying smacks of Shumways hand hitting your skin. 
You felt your breathing become heavier, more strangled. Everything was fading again and you were falling into the darkness, welcoming the silence and blackness. 
Tumblr media
You woke up with a jolt to see Charlotte roughly shaking your shoulder and offering you a sympathetic smile. You smiled back and got up to stretch. 
“Where’s Bellamy?” You asked, noticing his absence.
That morning you woke up to Charlotte shaking your shoulder and offering you a smile. You smiled back and got up to stretch. 
“Where’s Bellamy?” You asked, noticing his absence.
“He’s up ahead, at the entrance. I came back to get you, he didn’t want to wake you up if the fog wasn’t cleared.” You smiled a bit at the considerate side of Bellamy, the one you had seen a lot of this past day. You had Bellamy’s jacket in your hand, and Charlotte carried yours. Once you got to the entrance, you handed the jacket over to him and took yours back from Charlotte, slipping it on as Bellamy did the same.
“Anybody out there?” Bellamy asked. “Jones?” He hollered, looking for a sign that the men he was with yesterday were okay.
You heard Jones call out on your right, and you all followed the sound to him and the others. 
“Lost you in the stew. Where’d you go?” He asked.
“Made it to a cave down there. What the hell was that?” Jones asked.
“Don’t know.” You told him. He looked over at you and then Bellamy with curiosity, who shook it off before noticing a missing member.
“Where’s Atom?”
You split off from the group to look for Atom but became panicked when Bellamy asked you where Charlotte was. 
“She was with you!” You yelled.
“Yeah, and I looked away for two seconds and she took off! I thought she would’ve gone with you!” He explained. You continued to yell worriedly at each other until there was a loud scream. One you both unfortunately recognized as Charlotte’s.
You sprinted over to the source of the scream where you did find Charlotte, but also Atom. You were taken aback by the state he was in, terrified and scared. Bellamy went over to him and you turned to Charlotte. 
“Cover your eyes; don’t look. It’ll be okay, I promise.” She nodded at your words and you went to Atom’s other side, inspecting his body.
Burns and boils covered his pale and bloody skin as he whimpered and moaned in pain. His eyes were clouded over and grey, but the look in the was one that was easily recognizable: Pure agony.
Atom quietly begged for Bellamy to kill him, to end the pain. You watched as Bellamy grew scared at the boy’s words. As the others arrived, Charlotte gave Bellamy her knife, and your sad eyes landed on her as she told him not to be afraid.
“Go back to camp.” He instructed, and the other three left the scene.
“Charlotte, Y/n, you too.” He ordered, and Charlotte turned slowly before going back with the other. When you didn’t make a move to leave, Bellamy’s face hardened. “Y/n, go. Now.”
You looked up from the crouched position you were in and into Bellamy’s eyes. “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you. You’re scared, I can see that. You don’t have to do this alone, Bellamy. And you won’t.”
At your words, he let a shaky breath leave his lips as he knelt down into the position you were in. He tried to do what Atom was begging for, but the look in his eyes told you he couldn’t. So, when he turned around to see Clarke making her way towards you, you slipped the knife from his grip and looked to Atom, who gazed over at you.
“Don’t worry, Atom. You’ll be okay. I’m gonna help you.” You smiled sadly at him and started to hum the song you’d sung to Jasper yesterday, gripping the knife tighter and pressing it into the side of Atom’s neck. You kept your tears in and continued to hum as you pulled the knife out, brows furrowing and face contorting in sadness.
You felt Bellamy’s worried and sad gaze on you as well as Clarke’s, but you just kept your focus on Atom, humming softly until he stopped suffering.
Tumblr media
You walked into camp that night with Bellamy and Jones carrying Atom’s body on a stretcher that you stood next to. Clarke was ordering people around and Bellamy made sure she got what she needed to help Jasper heal, which put a smile on your sad face, but not for long. Lone tears made their way down your face every minute or so, but you never bothered with wiping them away.
“It’s about time, they’re gonna kill Jasper,” Octavia told Clarke as she stormed out of the dropship. Clarke went to guide Octavia into the dropship to save her the horror of seeing Atom, but she pushed forward.  
“Octavia, just stay there. Please, stay back.” Bellamy pleaded with his younger sister, but to no avail. He held her arms but she made her way to the body that lay on the ground by your feet, the tears falling from your eyes a little bit faster now. Tears sprung to her eyes and Bellamy turned to her. “There was nothing we could do-”
“Don’t.” She spat, putting her hand up to stop him. She covered his face with his jacket once more and left. You and Bellamy tried to stop her, but she left anyway, leaving you and Bellamy to soak up the hurt.
“Lose anyone here?” Bellamy asked Murphy, who informed you that everyone survived.
“And Jasper?” He asked, mostly in part for you.
“Breathing, just barely. I tried to take him out but your psycho sister-” You cut him off and attacked Murphy out of rage, pushing him roughly. “You what?! You asshole you tried to kill my brother?!” You yelled pushing him even further. You were ready to punch him out but Bellamy was faster, grabbed your upper arm and pulled you away.
“Woah, calm down, princess,” Where had that nickname come from? “He isn’t worth it.” You took a deep breath and calmed down, but you noticed Murphy’s smirk.
“Awe, how cute. The King has found his precious Queen. Too bad the women in your life are psychos.” Murphy commented, setting Bellamy off. He angrily walked up to him and punched him in the nose, the crowd around you in shock.
“Say anything else about either of them and you’ll be lucky you live next time.” Bellamy walked off, leaving you and the camp shocked. Everyone went back to doing what they were doing and you went up to the dropship, where Clarke was finishing up with putting the seaweed on Jasper’s wounds.
Octavia held his head in her lap as you gave Jasper the seaweed water, and you decided that you should say something to her.
“I’m sorry about Atom, Tavia.” She nodded and looked up briefly, attempting to clear her eyes from tears.
“I guess we’re going to have to get used to people dying down here, aren’t we?” She asked somberly. “But not you. Do you hear me? You’re not allowed to die. Me and Y/n won’t let you die.”
She pressed the wet cloth to his collarbone and you exchanged a glance with Clarke. Octavia cared for Jasper, that much you knew. She’d been just as worried for him as you had been ever since he came back to camp injured.
As Clarke left, you, Monty, Finn, and Octavia sat by Jasper, watching him for the night. He coughed in his sleep as you passed around the whiskey Finn had found. You passed the bottle back to Finn when you heard Jasper’s voice.
“Can I, uh, get a hit of that?” He asked, causing you to jump out of your seat and run to him, being the first one there, landing beside his head.
He took a drink of water as Finn welcomed him back, happy tears falling down your face for once. Monty gripped onto his extended hand, as did you and Octavia.
“Was that a dream or did I get speared?” He asked, causing you to let out a laugh.
“You’ll have a very impressive scar to prove it,” Clarke said as she climbed the ladder.
You don’t think you could’ve felt happier at the moment. Jasper was going to be fine, and you didn’t have to lose anyone else. Everyone was heading down to their respective tents soon after, but you stayed behind with Jasper.
“Thanks for not dying, Jasper.” You mentioned quietly.
“Well I didn’t want to die and leave you behind, now did I?” He asked tiredly. You laughed but laid on the makeshift bed. You looked up at the ceiling, thinking about the weird two days you’d just had. But everything was about to get way, way worse.
Taglist: @soullessbabee | @hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis​
85 notes · View notes
zukoskataraa · 5 years ago
Text
a request i got from @yaeno-gen! thanks for the request!
prompt #3: it’s three in the morning.
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” Katara says as Zuko drops her off at her place. Katara unlocks her seatbelt and turns to face Zuko. Zuko turns to Katara, smiling, placing his hand over hers.
“Yup. 3pm. I’ll pick you up.” Zuko says.
“I had a great time today. Thanks for treating me to dinner. It was delicious.” Katara smiles.
“I’m glad you liked it. We could go there again soon if you’d like.” Zuko says and Katara nods.
“Sure, that’d be great. Anyway, I should get going. It’s late and I still have a class at 1 tomorrow.”
“Oh yes, sure. Sorry for keeping you.” Zuko says. Katara leans in for a hug, and Zuko smiles as he hugs her back. Zuko loved that Katara smelled of vanilla, it was intoxicating to him. Katara pulls away first, smiling.
“See you tomorrow.” She gives Zuko a quick peck on the cheek, making Zuko blush. She opens the door and walks out, closing it. Zuko drives to his place, smiling the whole time.
Katara walks into her apartment, embarrassed that she kissed Zuko. It was only a peck on the cheek, that’s what she told herself. It didn’t mean anything. She takes off her shoes and makes her way to her bathroom, running the water for a bath. She grabs her phone from her bag and calls Suki, who answers right away.
“H-”
“How was the date? Did you guys finally kiss? Are you guys dating now? Spill, Kat!” Suki says, excited. Katara sits down on her couch.
“It wasn’t a date. I already told you that.” Katara says, sighing.
“Okay, fine. It wasn’t.” Suki says, mockingly.
“I know you’re being sarcastic. Anyway, to answer your other questions. We are not dating. And I may or may not have kissed him.” Katara says and Suki squeals. “Hey, relax. It was only a peck on the cheek.”
“Awww, that’s lame. But still, I’m surprised you made the first move.” Suki says, giggling. “I’m proud of you. You’ve been crushing on him for what? A year now? And you guys only started hanging out like two months ago. It’s progress, Kat. He obviously likes you too. Both of you are just too dense to admit it first.” Suki says. Katara sighs, standing up as she walks to the bathroom to turn off the water.
“I mean, I wouldn’t exactly say dense.” Katara says. “But still. You’re right. It’ll happen sooner or later.”
“Of course I’m right. I always am. Anyway, I gotta finish this assignment. See you tomorrow!” Suki hangs up, and Katara puts her phone on the bathroom counter. She takes off her clothes and steps into the bath, slowly going down. The warm water felt like heaven on her skin, and it felt as if her stress had been taken away. She sat there, contemplating if she should confess to Zuko, or wait for Zuko to confess to her.
Katara got out of the tub a few minutes later, and changed into her pajamas. Sleep was taking over her, it was midnight already and she was out the whole day. She decided to sleep on it, hoping she would have a decision in the morning regarding her and Zuko.
-
“Ugh, I’m so tired. That test was so hard.” Suki says as she links her arms with Katara’s as they walk out of their class.
“I know right? I didn’t even get to finish the essay at the back.” Katara says and Suki stops dead in her tracks. “What’s the matter?” Katara asks, looking at Suki.
“There’s… a back part? An essay?” Suki says and Katara giggles.
“Yes, Suki. There was. But based on your reaction, I’m guessing you didn’t know.” Katara says and Suki sighs.
“That’s it. I’m failing. I’m just gonna drop out and become a stripper.” Suki says and Katara just laughs. “Anyway, what time is your boyfriend picking you up?” Suki asks and Katara blushes.
“H-He’s not my boyfriend.” Katara stutters. Suki laughs. “He told me he’d wait at the front for me at 3.”
“Well, it’s like…” Suki checks her watch. “2:57 right now. So you should get going.”
“I don’t think he’s there yet though. Plus, you're going that way, right? We can go together.” Katara says and Suki nods.
“So, are you gonna tell him?” Suki asks, and Katara blushes.
“Well, I want to. But I don’t want to be rejected. Remember what happened with Jet?” Katara says and Suki fumes.
“I hate that guy. Jet was such a piece of shit, I can’t believe you almost dated him.” Suki says and Katara giggles.
“Calm down, chief. I hate him too, but I learned something from him. Plus, the past is in the past, right?”
“Right. And that means you should confess to Zuko and then you two can start dating and get married and have bab-" Suki stops when she sees Zuko walk up to them, smiling.
“Hi, Katara. Suki.” He greets them politely and Suki smiles.
“Hey, Zuko. Nice meeting you, but I should get going. I don’t wanna get in the way of you two lovebirds. Bye Kat, bye Zuko!” Suki walks away before Katara can speak.
“Uh, don’t mind Suki. You know how she can be.” Katara says and Zuko chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” Zuko says. On unspoken terms, they start to walk outside towards the university parking lot. “So, are you hungry?”
“Yeah, kind of. I could go for some burgers right now.” Katara says and Zuko smiles.
“Perfect.” He takes his car keys out from his pocket and unlocks the car, opening the door for Katara. She blushes as she gets inside, and Zuko closes the door. He walks over to the driver’s side and gets in, putting the key in the ignition and closes the door. “There’s this awesome fastfood restaurant a few blocks from here. You know Burger Joint?” Zuko starts to drive, and Katara nods. “It’s only like less than 5 minutes from here to there.”
“Yeah, I’ve been there. Once, with Suki. A month ago I think.” Katara says. “Suki found out that her boyfriend, now her ex, cheated on her, and she was so mad that she wanted to eat anything she could. Don’t ask me, I don’t know why. But, we went to Burger Joint and she ordered like 3 king-sized meals, and like you know how big their servings are, right? But she finished them all.” Katara laughs and Zuko joins her. “She was so full by the end of it, she almost threw up at the table.”
“Oh wow, I hope she doesn’t get her heart broken like that again.” Zuko says, sincerity in his voice.
“Me too. She deserves better than that.” Katara says. “How’d your morning go? Did you have any classes?”
“I had one class at 10, but the teacher didn’t show.” Zuko says, turning left as they reach their destination. “So I stayed in the library and waited for you.” Zuko says and Katara blushes. He drives into a parking slot and stops, turning off the engine.
“So, you haven’t eaten lunch yet?” Katara asks, unbuckling her seatbelt. She wanted to scold him for not eating lunch, but they weren’t a couple, so she didn’t have the right to do it. “Also, can I leave my bag here? I’ll just bring my phone and wallet.”
“Nope, I haven’t eaten yet. And yeah sure go ahead.” Zuko says as he unbuckles his and takes out his car keys. “Hang on.” Zuko gets out of the car and walks over to the other side of the car, opening the door for Katara. Katara looks up at Zuko, and Zuko gives her a wink. She blushes as she gets out of the car, and Zuko closes the door and locks it.
“Thanks. Also, you should have eaten. Not eating lunch isn’t good for you, you know.” Katara says as she and Zuko walk to the entrance of the restaurant. Zuko chuckles.
“Aw, you care for me.” Zuko teases and Katara looks away, blushing.
“W-What? Of course I do.” Katara says, and she immediately stops. “N-Not like that though! I just meant like, uh, you know…” Katara stutters and Zuko laughs, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they continue to walk. ‘She’s so cute’ Zuko smiles, thinking.
“I was just teasing, Katara. Thanks for looking out for me though.” Zuko says and Katara blushes.
“So, what do you want?” Zuko asks as they enter the restaurant. Katara looks at the menu displayed above the registers. “Go crazy. I’m paying.” Zuko says.
“Y-You don’t have to do that, Zuko. I can pay for this. You already paid for dinner last night.” Katara says. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.” She adds before Zuko can speak. Zuko chuckles, and lifts his hands up in surrender.
“Okay, okay. I’ll just have what you’re having then.” Zuko says and Katara nods. They walk up to the cashier and he takes their orders.
“And for your drinks, ma’am?” The cashier asks. “One large milkshake? It’s big enough to share with your boyfriend.” The cashier says and Katara and Zuko blush.
“Oh! He’s not… We’re not dating.” Katara says and Zuko chuckles.
“We’re just friends.” Zuko says, and Katara nods.
“My bad. Sorry. So, um, what would you like to drink?” The cashier asks.
“I’ll take a strawberry milkshake. Small.” Katara says.
“Uh, I’ll have a small vanilla milkshake.” Zuko says and the cashier nods. Katara pays and the cashier prepares their orders while they wait at the side.
“Here you go. Two king-sized meals with a vanilla milkshake and strawberry milkshake.” The cashier says.
“Thank you.” Katara and Zuko say in unison. Zuko picks up the tray, and Katara holds their cups.
“Oh, let’s sit there by the window.” Katara says as she walks ahead and puts the cups on the table. Zuko follows her and places their tray there. They sit down, silence hanging in the air.
“Let’s eat!” Katara says as she grabs her burger and Zuko smiles, following her.
“Yes, let’s.” Zuko says and they eat in a comfortable silence.
“Oh.” Katara breaks the silence a minute later, wiping her mouth with a tissue. “Are we going anywhere after this? Because I have to edit this paper that’s due later, so I need to get back home soon.”
“Oh, I was hoping-” Zuko starts but doesn’t finish. “Oh, yeah. I can drop you off after this.” Zuko says, and Katara nods, smiling. Zuko wanted to spend more time with Katara. He had planned to watch a movie with her, and eat dinner and go to the park. He had planned to confess to Katara later, but now his plans were ruined.
“Zuko?” Katara asks, and Zuko looks up at her.
“Yeah? What’s up?”
“Well, you suddenly froze and started glaring outside the window. Are you okay?” Katara asks.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m fine.” Zuko smiles and he continues to eat his food. An awkward silence looms over them as they finish their food.
“You ready to go?” Zuko asks a few minutes after they finish eating.
“Yeah, let’s go.” Katara smiles. They head out of the restaurant and walk towards Zuko’s car.
“Hey, I’m sorry for not being able to hang out with you for the rest of the afternoon.” Katara says once they’re inside the car.
“Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to be sorry, Kat.” Zuko says.
“I know. But I was looking forward to hanging out today. I can’t believe I forgot that I had to pass the paper today.” Katara says.
“I was looking forward to it too.” Zuko starts the car and they head out of the parking lot. “But, there’s always next time, right?” Zuko asks, uncertain.
“Yeah! Of course.” Katara says. Silence hangs in the air, both of them unsure of what to say.
“I’ll see you soon?” Zuko asks once they arrive at Katara’s apartment.
“Definitely. Thanks for dropping me off. And sorry once again. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Katara says as she unbuckles her seatbelt.
“It’s no problem.” Zuko smiles. Katara reaches over and gives Zuko a quick peck on the cheek before heading out of the car.
-a few hours later-
“H-“
“Suki I messed up!!! Help me!” Katara says, panicking.
“Whoa, whoa. What happened? Are you okay?” Suki asks, worried.
“I can’t sleep because I messed up, and now Zuko won’t talk to me ever again! I told him I had this paper to pass earlier tonight, so we ended our date early!” Katara says. “And I don’t even have a paper to pass! I just suddenly panicked when we were eating, I don’t know why. Help me! Why am I like this?”
“Hey, calm down Katara.” Suki says and Katara sits down on the edge of her bed, taking deep breaths. “Are you okay now?”
“Yeah. I am. But what am I gonna do? I regret everything.” Katara says and Suki sighs.
“Okay, it’s like 2 in the morning. Maybe you should get some sleep and then call him in the morning.” Suki says.
“Y-yeah. That sounds good.” Katara says.
“You know, you called it a date.” Suki says, amusement in her voice.
“W-What?”
“You know, your hangout session yesterday. You called it a date.” Suki says.
“I didn’t!”
“You did.”
“You’re just imagining things.” Katara says.
“I’m not. Anyway, get some sleep, Kat.” A yawn comes from Suki. “I’m gonna head to bed now. Goodnight.” Suki hangs up, leaving Katara with her thoughts.
And that’s how Katara ended up in front of Zuko’s door at 3am, wearing her pajamas. She takes a deep breath, and knocks on the door. She bites her lip looking at the ground, hoping that Zuko would answer. She also remembers that it’s 3am, so Zuko was probably sleeping.
“Who’s there?” A groggy voice says, the door opening. Katara looks up and sees Zuko, hair messy, and looks down to realize that he’s not wearing a shirt. She looks up to see him smirking. “You like the view?” He says, his voice still groggy. Katara blushes and her eyes go wide.
“N-No! I mean, yes! Wait! I just mean-“ She stops as Zuko chuckles.
“It’s three in the morning.” Zuko says, suddenly serious.
“I-I know that. But, um, can we talk?” She says, suddenly feeling small. Zuko runs his hands through his hair and makes way for Katara to enter his apartment. Katara walks in, and Zuko closes the door. She turns around and bumps into Zuko, and Zuko wraps his arms around her to prevent her from falling.
“Are you okay? Did something happen?” He asks, and Katara can’t speak. Not when Zuko’s face is inches from hers. Not when he’s holding her so close. Not when she’s staring right into his brown angelic eyes. “Katara?”
“I LIKE YOU.” She blurts out, and both of them widen their eyes. She gulps, waiting for Zuko to say something. “Oh my god, that was so stupid. Look, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t- I wasn’t thinking. I’m gonna go now. Sorry for waking you.” Katara says, breaking free from Zuko’s grasp. She’s about to walk out the door, until…
“Katara.” Zuko says, making Katara shiver.
“I’m sorry. Forget everything I said.”
“How am I supposed to forget that? You told me you liked me, and now you’re saying that you’re sorry? Sorry for what? Do you not like me?” Zuko asks.
“I-I do! I just… I know you don’t feel the same way. So, I’m sorry.” She unlocks the door when Zuko stops her, placing his hand above hers. He’s right behind her, like a predator tapping its prey.
“Here’s the thing, Katara. I like you too.” Zuko says, whispering into her ear.
“Y-You do?” She asks.
“I do.” He replies. “I wasn’t expecting my confession to be like that. But, it’ll do.” Zuko chuckles, and he’s back to his old self. Katara looks up at him and smiles.
“I’m so embarrassed right now.” She covers her face with her hands and Zuko laughs, wrapping her in a hug. She smiles at the warmth his body radiates, and she nuzzles deeper into his chest.
“You’re so cute, you know that?” Zuko says, giving her forehead a peck. She blushes, looking up at him.
“Well, you’re cuter.” Katara says and Zuko shakes his head.
“As much as I’d love to argue, I really wanna go back to bed.” Zuko says and Katara nods.
“Oh, yeah okay. I’ll get going then. See you.” Katara says.
“Hold on. Where do you think you’re going? You’re gonna sleep with me. I’m not gonna let you go out alone at this hour.” Zuko says, and Katara blushes. “Now, come on.” Zuko takes Katara’s hand and leads her to his bedroom.
“I’m not going to touch you. Not unless you want me to, anyway. You can take the left side of the bed.” Zuko says and Katara nods as she lies down. “Goodnight, Kat.” Zuko says, facing her.
“Goodnight Zuko.” She says, facing him. But she doesn’t close her eyes. She stares at Zuko, his pale face illuminated by the moonlight. She gulps as she slowly moves closer to him, and Zuko chuckles.
“Okay, come here.” Zuko gently grabs her and pulls her towards him, nuzzling his face into her hair. Zuko’s thumb gently rubs circles on her back, and Katara smiles as sleep slowly takes her.
-
masterlist | AO3
shoutout to @tonguetidee for giving me an idea for this fic!! <3
40 notes · View notes
lousimusician · 6 years ago
Text
Sex Pollen Part 3
Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Summary: You make your decision on how to help Peter.
Warning: Smut
A/N: HERE YOU GO, PART 3. ENJOY THE SMUT
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You groaned looking at the time on your clock.
1:00 am
You hadn't been able to sleep at all. The whole Peter situation keeping you up.
You knew what you wanted to do. It wasn't a difficult situation to make. You've had sex before (You were a Stark after all) and with it being Peter the decision was even easier to make. 
It just still felt like you would be taking advantage of Peter somehow.
You sighed, sitting up, letting the sheets fall off your body.
You pushed the sheets away, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and getting up, deciding to head to the lab.
You stood outside, seeing that the plant was gone, and your dad and Bruce were pulling an all nighter, as you expected.
You lightly knocked, before letting yourself in.
Tony looked over at you. "I thought I told you to stay in your room?" He said, quirking an eyebrow.
You rolled your eyes. "I just wanted to know if you guys made any progress, you've been down here for hours."
"Well," Bruce said, looking up from the microscope he had been peering down. "We took a few samples of the plants, and just a few hours ago, we got samples of Peter."
You nodded, walking over to Bruce, and looking at the three microscopes that were set up, with an array of swabs just to the side. Bruce had been going on about something, but you ignored him, taking it upon yourself to see the samples.
The first one was a blood sample, but to your disappointment it looked perfectly normal.
You moved to the next one. A cheek swab. And once again the cells looked normal.
The next one was a little personal, but given the situation, you suppose it was necessary, because it was a sperm sample. And once again.
It. Was. Normal.
You furrowed your eyebrows.
"What the hell?" You said, turning to Bruce. "Everything is fine. Do you guys really have nothing?"
"I wouldn't say nothing."
You raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Then what did you find?"
"I mean technically..." He looked like he was in thought. "Okay, yeah it's nothing, but we still have plenty more samples to go over."
You rolled your eyes. "How does he look, then? Is he getting any better?"
"He's fine, go back to bed." Your dad muttered, looking down into his own microscope.
"Fine may be pushing it Tony. He's worse than before. I don't think he's going to be able to get any sleep tonight. Which well then cause even more problems if he's sleep deprived and-" His ramblings were cut off by Tony.
"Bruce, seriously?" He said shooting him a look. "Can't you tell when I'm trying to parent? Stop scaring my daughter, you'll put ideas in her head." He looked at you now. "Now, Peter's going to be okay, we're figuring this out. It's just taking longer than expected. Now will you please go to bed, it's past your bedtime."
"I don't have a bedtime." You muttered, making your dad shoot you a look. "But fine, I'll go."
"Thank you." 
"Yeah whatever." You sighed, walking out of the lab.
You went back upstairs only instead of going to your own room, you went to Natasha's.
It swung open, Nat standing in the doorway not looking tired in the slightest, it seemed like she had been up all night too.
You took a deep breath, ignoring your reddening cheeks. "Talk to Peter and get me his consent."
She quirked an eyebrow, "You seem rather eager now."
"They have nothing, Peter seems perfectly fine by a scientific stand point. They've been down there for hours, I don't understand why they can't find anything, and Peter's probably getting worse and we still don't know how this could affect him-." You ranted.
"Okay, let's calm down first. Now you're sure you're okay with this decision?"
"Yeah, I mean I'm not a virgin, and I am very much attracted to Peter." 
She nodded. "Alright then, I'll talk to him. Wait- what about birth control-"
"It's fine, I'm on the pill." You said, cutting her off.
"Why did I even bother asking, you are a Stark after all." She said with a teasing grin.
"Oh shut up." You blushed, shaking your head. "But thanks for helping me. Now, I need to go overrun F.R.I.D.A.Y's commands so she doesn't tell my dad where I am if he asks. So if he agrees can you tell him it might take me a while to get there."
"Of course." Nat said, stepping out of the doorway and pulling her door shut.
"Okay, thanks again." You said before running off to hack your dad's AI.
~~~~
Natasha stalked down the hallway to Peter's room. Anyone who had a room down that same hallway had left, finding it impossible to sleep due to the noises he was making.
She approached the door, already hearing him panting on the other side. Nat sighed, feeling bad for him. She gently knocked against the door.
"D-dr. Banner?" She heard him say.
"Guess again."
"Ms. Romanoff?" He asked in surprise.
"Yeah. Listen I heard you were having a hard time.(Y/N) is worried about you."
Peter groaned, cock twitching just from the sound of your name.
Nat ignored it, continuing what she was saying. "It also looks like Tony and Bruce aren't making a lot of progress..So basically...what do you think about fixing this the way those aliens usually do?"
"W-what! N-no, I can't do that to h-her. It's n-not fair."
"Pete, it was her decision. She thought about it and decided it's okay on her end, she just sent me here to get your consent."
It was silent on his end for a few beats. "...I-I don't know. She's my friend."
She sighed. "You kids are impossible sometimes." She muttered to herself. "Yeah a friend who has an unbearably obvious crush on you and I know you like her too. So maybe if your smart you might get a relationship out of this...And look, she's sure she wants to do this. So don't worry about her alright? Just think about yourself, do you want this?"
"Well y-yeah, but-"
"Good. Then I'm sending her up, alright?"
"...O-okay." Peter said in a small voice.
"She may be a while though, she has to make sure F.R.I.D.A.Y doesn't tell her dad what you two are going to be up to."
He groaned, a flush of embarrassment taking over. "I hadn't even thought about M-mr. Stark. H-he's going to kill me."
"Still better than this stupid plant torturing you. I'm going to find (Y/N) now, hold tight."
Peter hummed as Nat walked away, hearing her receding footsteps.
~~~~~~~~
"He said yes."
You jumped up out of your seat. You had been sitting in front of your dad's computer, where you had started overriding F.R.I.D.A.Y's commands.
You quickly turned around to face Nat. "H-he said yes?" You asked, wide eyed.
She nodded. "Having second thoughts?"
"No, no." You swallowed. "I think it just sank in what I agreed to do."
"And you're still up for this?" She asked, walking over to look at the screen of your dad's computer.
"Y-yeah." You said, shakily turning back around to continue what you were doing. "I still want to help him." You said as you frowned at the screen and groaned. "It looks like my dad went through extra precautions so I can't mess with F.R.I.D.A.Y like I did last time. This is gonna take longer than I thought."
--
By the time you had finished it was already 2:15 am. You didn't even know if Peter was able to fall asleep, until you found yourself standing on the other side of his bedroom door. He was a panting and moaning mess in there and you knew he had to be touching himself.
You swallowed harshly, slightly nervous, you raised a closed fist to lightly knock on his door. But he hadn't acknowledged you, his moans drowning out the noise of your knocking. So, you took it upon yourself to enter.
You took a deep breath you shut your eyes and silently opened the door and shut it closed behind you once you were inside.
His moans were louder now that the door wasn't in the way to muffle his sounds. You slowly peeked your eyes open and the sight made you suck in a sharp breath.
His arm was thrown haphazardly across his face, covering his eyes, mouth wide open as almost every lewd sound you had eved heard slipped past them. But what really made your breathing uneven and face flushing, was the sight of him jerking himself off. You squeezed your legs together at watching his had sliding up and down and hips bucking.
Even for you, who wasn't exactly new to sexual experiences found this extremely erotic.
His deep groan of your name made you snap back to reality, and you realized that you should probably let him know you were there.
With another deep breath you prepared yourself for what was about to happen, and cleared your throat loudly, gaining his attention.
He stopped his movements, and his eyes flew to your figure.
"(Y-Y/N)." He breathed out, pulling the bed sheet over his lower body, no doubt trying to have some decency, and scrambling to sit up against the headboard.
"H-hi." You said in a small voice. "How are you feeling?"
"Awful." He whined, his head already getting fuzzy by your presence. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry for all of this."
"Hey shh." you said, trying to calm him down. You walked closer to him so you now stood next to the headboard. You brushed back the damp curls from his forehead. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, this isn't your fault Peter."
Peter shut his eyes tightly, averting your stare, just focusing on your touch. "I just- I feel like I'm going c-crazy- and I- and I don't know how long I can c-control myself around you." He said, nearly on the edge of tears, making your heart clench. "And if you knew the things I thought about today you'd h-hate me."
"Peter look at me." You said firmly. 
Peter relented, eyes fluttering open and they immediately went to you and raked down your body. Noticing the fact that you weren't wearing a bra under your thin tank top, and your shorts that hugged you so perfectly. 
Your hand went to his jaw and lifted it up so he could look you in the eye. "I need you to calm down Peter and know that I'm here to help you." You climbed onto the bed and swung a leg over his lap so you were straddling him now, causing his breath to hitch. Peter sat up straighter, body tense, hands flying to touch your bare thighs. "So." You continued. "Stop feeling guilty and maybe we can try some of those things you thought of today."
He groaned, head falling into your neck, smelling once again all those amazing scents that lingered on you. "This is gonna ruin our f-friendship."
You bit your lip. "I think I can live with that." You whispered before pulling his head back to press your lips to his.
He stopped you though, lips almost touching. "W-wait." He stuttered, and with the sanity that was still left in him asked, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
You smirked, and let out a short laugh, "You talk too much Parker." You said before crashing your lips against his.
The effect was immediate as he fell into that familiar haze from earlier that day where the only thing he could possibly think about was fucking you so hard you wouldn't be able to walk for days. Peter gripped your waist and flipped you over, so he was now seated between your thighs. He reconnected your lips, the sheets now a tangled mess between the two of you.
And everything seemed to happen at once, he began grinding his hips against you making you let out a surprised yelp and his hands gripped the bottom of your tank top, pulling it up and over your head. One hand gripping your hip while the other began massaging a breast.
Overwhelmed by the sensations you let out a high pitched whine into the kiss, and he took this opening to practically shove his tongue down your throat.
He pulled away, panting, as he worked to untangle the sheet around his legs. "You wouldn't believe the things I imagined doing to you today." He said breathlessly. He finally kicked the rest of the bed sheet to the foot of the bed, head turning to look down at your own flushed and breathless expression. "Fuck- you're so fucking pretty." He roughly ground against you, eliciting another moan from you. "And you make the prettiest noises."
His hands now grabbed the hem of your shorts, pulling them down with your panties. His eyes lingered on your pussy and he licked his lips, eyes flicking back to your own.
"Peter~" You said so desperately he was sure he was hallucinating again.
He leaned over you, pressing his lips onto your neck, kissing and biting as he worked a hand between you two.
His fingers making it's way between your folds. You immediately bucked your hips into his touch, giving him the most wanton moan he's ever heard. He groaned, "You're so wet." He panted as he slipped a finger into you, making you jump.
"Ahh~ holy shit-" A shiver of pleasure wracked down your spine, toes curling into the mattress and hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.
His thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing tight circles, and he slipped another finger into you and curling them. Your head was thrown back into the pillow as your back arched off the bed. Peter panted against your ear, whispering the dirtiest things you've ever heard and you couldn't tell if it was because of the pollen or he actually had this in him. 
He continued to thrust his fingers faster and faster, telling that you were getting closer. "C'mon princess I wanna feel you cum around my fingers. You're squeezing them so fucking tight." He groaned. "I can't wait to fuck this pretty pussy." You practically screamed as his fingers hit you perfectly.
"W-who the fuck... knew Peter P-Parker could talk... so d-dirty." You said in between pants.
He smirked down at you. "Now look who talks too much." He panted. "Cum for me princess." And not long after, you did. Back arched and mouth slack in a silent scream while Peter continued to work you through your first orgasm of the night. "That's it pretty girl, just like that." He moaned feeling you clench around his fingers.
Once you came down you were left a panting mess, you jumped as Peter pulled his fingers out because of how sensitive you were. He sat up looking down at you, adjusting you so you lined up with his cock.
"I know you're sensitive princess, but I'm not even close to being done with you." You nodded wordlessly before he pushed into you, the both of you groaning at the sensation.
Peter finally felt some of the relief he had been craving the whole day. He started off with a rough pace, gripping your hips so tight you were sure there would be bruises. You had quickly been rendered a moaning mess, not being able to think clearly enough to form any words.
He brought a hand up to lean against the headboard, giving him more leverage as he changed the angle slightly. "You have no idea how ....crazy you've been driving me all day." He grunted. "How fucking ...hard I had been all day ....because of you."
"Fuck~" You moaned. "I-I'm sorry...I... didn't come.. s-sooner
"Doesn't matter,....you're here now." He said picking up his pace even further, the headboard creaking under his hold, wood starting to splinter.
He quickly pulled out and flipped you over, and pulled you up by your hips before thrusting into you again. He leaned over you, his chest flush with your back an arm wound around your waist, holding you tight against him. "You're so fucking tight, feel so fucking good around my cock." Your face was buried into the pillow to muffle your moans. Peter reached up, gripping your hair with his free hand, and pulling your head up, you hissed at the tight pull on your hair. "Wanna hear you, pretty girl." He groaned against your ear. He moved the arm that was wrapped tightly around your waist, bringing his hand down to your clit, making your body jerk at the sudden contact and clench around him tighter.
You let out a whine acken to a sob, overwhelmed by the pleasure. "P-Peter!" You cried out. 
He moaned at your cries for him. "You're doing so good. Such a good fucking girl. I want you to cum all over my cock princess."
And with that you came with a scream of his name falling from your lips. The pleasure so intense you saw white. He continued to thrust into you through your orgasm until he came himself. Moaning your name and curses against your ear.
You whimpered as you came down, body shaking.  
He pulled away, turning you over again to admire the fucked out expression on your face. He leaned over you, connecting your lips again and you kissed back lazily completely exhausted and sore already.
But while Peter felt some relief he still needed more because he was hard again in seconds. Although, his mind was slightly less fuzzy, on a positive note.
He pulled back, looking down at you again. His hand brushed back the hair from your face. "You're not tired are you."
"N-no." You lied, because while you were, you'd let him take you over and over again as many times as he needed to.
He hummed, a grin painting his lips. "Good." He said, fingers going back to your clit and gently rubbing, your body jerking at the touch. "Because I plan on making sure you won't be able to walk for the next few days."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Permanent Taglist:
@Spiderdudeparker @peterparkers-waffles @smexylemony @ultimategalaxyprogram @xxxxdelenaxxxx @chonisberonica @meaningoflifeisfandoms @aegis-s-s @Just-random-stuff-18 @etherealhollandd @yourwonderbelle @roi-yang @ironspiderstark@runningoutofwordstosay @retroparkers @marvelismylifffe@marvelhoeingismyhobby @thebadtruth @loud-binch @cosmicparkerr@thechickvic @magiclolipopqueen @httpmcrvel @parkeroffline @yang-seubinnie @lou-la-lou @all-of-the-fandom-trash @lovesaweed
S.P. -- T
@babebenhardy @deni-gonzalez @thequeerishere555 @swagsoulpenguin @ruefulposts @poptart-to-go @lukesbabylon @parkerrdanverss @butwhyduh @karlitabi-rrito @lets--be-honest @cookie614 @petersquips @danicarosaline @itsyourgurl1 @143amberrose @loxbbg @strangethings-everywhere @jessies-sidebitch @leeleegrace @shortpeoplematter @zicoskokoro @suhhhhhhh-dude @cherrym4rk @hella-rad-kiss-my-sass @harrydesires @unwantedcrustofpizza @yoinks-i-dont-feel-so-good @blvckandboujiee @lynvaldez @euphoniumpets @bi-carrot-cake @superheroesaremytea @xxr-88xx @rodgersbuchanan @lylith-exe @izzyluvsmms @platonictrashh @miniaturenerdsaladprune @missmillions @roger-the-killer-queen @jxhnten @allofthebitters @actuallyanarachnid @mrstaekim @justateengirl @sunflower-borhap-boys @cailster @prioritiesstraighterthanmyself @marianakebe11 @heartbreakcity @mckynleigh @clockblobber @laucontrerasv @1800marvelhaskilledme @ultramagicaltacofandom @fallinallintom @alexandrobello @bellamyblakemorley @calumssweetheart @spiderlingsweb @iwritetrashimagines @bluedazefangirl @terrible-terrible-blog @mysticpansy @cremextart @parkeret @cassiopeia-barrow @ihatemyself21 @violet-by-nature @hollandary @peterparkerbean @jackiehollanderr @jannieka394 @kaecac @httpfandxms @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @basicbitch7654321 @omg-lexiloveyou @i-believe-in-unicorns-and-you @carostar2020 @legendarydazekitten @winterwitch107th @buckyxwintersoidier @marauders-manic @rae-enjoys-pizza @princessdancingonthesunshine @april-14-blog @xtrashmammalstefx @totorotoni @kii-mii @blueberrylemontea-fanfic @lovcyou3000 @theshortmajesticsquirrel @ziggyspurplehaze @holland-in-disguise @spudsandbandit @thatcrazywhovian09 @megs0118 @thatpeterparkerfan  @erwr03 @pastlivesandsecretcandy
7K notes · View notes
teaspoon-full-of-sugar · 5 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
time
pairing: harry styles x reader
warnings: angst, descriptions of anxiety, some fluff toward the end
word count: 1.7k
synopsis: part two to this fic
author’s note: thank you for the wonderful comments on the first part! this is probably not the ending that you all were expecting (it’s certainly not as dramatic as the first part), but i think it wraps everything up pretty well (albeit very cheesily)! this was inspired by the office: season 5 episode 28 18:48 and a little bit from the finale. i hope you enjoy! xx
Y/N sleeps until noon. 
She fishes her phone out from between the cushions, flinching at the brightness. She blinks, and her heart stops at the sight of dozens of notifications, texts, missed calls and voicemails: all from Harry. Fear settles in her stomach. Shaky hands scroll through incoherent messages. She hesitates before opening her voicemail. 
“Baby, I’m—” Her heart clenches painfully in her chest to hear him struggling for breath. “I’m so sorry.” His words slur together. That’s all she can really understand, the rest is blubbering nonsense, thick with tears. She automatically fears the worst: maybe something happened to him; he went out, and he got slipped something, or he took something that was laced. A chill settles into her bones, heart pounding in her chest as the voicemails continue, all similar to the first with muffled voices, gasping sobs, and harrowing cries. The final voicemail is from Jeff, reassuring her that Harry is fine; he just had a rough night.
It does little to calm her nerves, however.
 She wants to call him, to make sure that he’s actually fine, but something stops her. Calling him would set back all the progress that she made. There is no guarantee that she’ll be able to keep from giving in to him. The rational part of herself is screaming at her, fighting tooth and nail to control herself, but the thought of the man she still loves and cares about, lying in a hospital from an overdose or alcohol poisoning or anything makes her heart wrench painfully. 
She calls him. 
Harry wakes up to his phone vibrating on the night table. Next to it are a couple of pills, a glass of water, and a bottle of Gatorade. The pills shake with everything ring, making his headache worsen, but he doesn’t have the energy to pick up. He doesn’t know how he got back to Jeff’s. The night was a blur, but it was coming back to him in pieces. He groans aloud when he remembers pulling the girl into the bathroom with her lips on his neck, hand dropping dangerously low, toward his—
When his phone rings for the second time, he sighs, yanking it listlessly. 
“Hello?” He answers, voice throaty. He takes the pills, downing half the bottle of water. 
“Hey.” 
The sound of Y/N’s voice, her actual voice, not just another deception of his mind, knocks the breath from his lungs. He’s speechless. He remembers vaguely from the night before calling her, but he didn’t honestly think that she would respond. When he comes back to himself, he smiles, breathing a sigh of relief. He missed her. 
“I was just calling to make sure you’re okay,” she says softly. Tears fill his already swollen eyes, and his lip trembles pitifully. 
He hates this. He hates this feeling in his chest, like there’s a weight, and it just keeps pressing and pressing down until something shatters. He hates this feeling of uneasiness that settles between them. He hates the feeling in his heart when he considers lying to her. He wants so badly to just brush off those messages he left her the night before, blaming them on his inebriated mindset, and keep her in the dark about the pain he’s feeling, the longing he feels, and the pure relief when he heard her voice, but he can’t. The thought of lying or not spilling what's on the tip of his tongue leaves a bad taste in his mouth. 
“‘M not,” he admits, wiping his eyes and sniffling. “Jus’ miss you so much, babylove.” 
“I miss you too, H,” she sighs. He lets out a breath of relief. He knows that she’s not angry or upset with him, but there is always that little voice in the back of his head telling him that she left him because she hated him. A tear slips out at the thought. 
“Can I—uh—“ He clears his throat and sits up, bare back against the cool headboard. “Can I see you? Today?” Hope tinges his words. 
“Harry,” she trails off, and he can feel his heart stop. 
He knows what she’s going to say. He shouldn’t have even asked her, but a small part of him, the one that believes that everything will work out, the part that is filled with longing and desperation, had to try. He has to put his heart out there, even if it meant that it would get broken again. 
“We probably shouldn’t see each other.” 
Even though he knew she was going to say that, it doesn’t mean it hurts any less. He nods, trying to keep tears at bay. He bites down hard on his lips. 
“It’s for the best.” 
A small part of him knows that their separation is for the best. If the relief he felt when he saw that she called is any indication, he is dependent on her; he wouldn’t say to an unhealthy degree, but certainly not helpful. Even though a small part of him understands that the breakup is good for not only her but also himself, he still holds onto the hope of her falling back into his arms—how delusional of him. 
“I love you.” 
It slips out, really; he doesn’t comprehend what he’s saying until it’s too late. He knows that it’s selfish of him to say, and he hates himself for even saying it, for digging himself a deeper hole that he might not be able to get out of. The larger part of him, the part of him that is in pain and just wants it to go away, was speaking. He just thought that maybe he could be selfish, just this once. Maybe he can tell her about what he was going to say that night she left, or maybe he can somehow just convince her to see him; he’s like an addict, just needing one more hit. His heart swells when he hears her breath hitch. 
He can see her now. She’s probably on the couch, finding it hard to sleep in their bed. After she left him, he couldn’t sleep in it either. He’s sure that she’s bundled up in blankets despite it being warm out, clutching onto her phone like a lifeline. She’s probably biting on her lip, an awful habit of hers, and by the raspy sound of her voice, she has dried tear tracks on her cheeks, much like him, blemishing her smooth skin with salt and stains. Her eyes are probably swollen like his, too. He can practically visualize her trying to figure out what to say next, eyes fluttering nervously about as she bites at her nails. 
He hopes that she will say the same to him. He hopes that she’ll just say that she loved him too, tell him that he can come back home, that she’ll be there with open arms, ready to take any pain away. She breathes heavily into the line, shaky and tense. It’s as if she’s afraid. 
“No, you don’t,” she finally says, voice feeble. She’s close to breaking down. He knows that much. He can hear it in her shallow breaths and the little cry that escapes from her, weak and defeated. 
His heart sinks, not because she didn’t say if back, but because she truly believes that he doesn’t really love her anymore. When she was the first woman to show him what true love felt like, when she opened his eyes to new experiences and when she stuck beside him when he was at his lowest, how could she doubt his love? Perhaps, that’s his own fault, for being inattentive and reclusive in the months leading to their breakup. 
“I will always love you, Y/N,” he admits. 
“I love you, too, Harry,” she says, “but we just need some time to set our priorities and figure everything out.” 
“Okay,” he says softly. “Time. We just need time.” He wipes the wetness from his cheeks with his arm. He breathes out. “I can do that.” She sighs, probably feeling the same as him, filled with comfort of their future, the ache dulling. 
“Thank you,” she whispers.
Neither of them want to be the first to hang up, but Harry does a short while later, after saying their final farewells. As he lies in his bed, clutching his phone to his chest, feeling the warmth slowly die away, he smiles. For the first time in weeks, a feeling of security and hope fills him, drowning the heartache and grief. He finally got closure, and he’s ready for the tough road ahead.  
They need this time apart. It took his breakdown the night before to realize this, but he became too reliant on her. He always expected her to be there, and when she wasn’t, there was no way of him to support himself. It’s unhealthy, and would have led to an even worse, less civil breakup. He realizes this, now. They need some time apart, and he can live with that. 
Years may pass. She may find someone, and he may find someone. They’ll reconnect, then lose touch. No journey is ever smooth; there are bumps and potholes and detours they have to take, but the destination will be worth it. That’s just how their story is, intricate, complicated, and messy, but when they finally come together, it’ll be perfect. He knows that all of this, this heartache and growth, will be worth it because at the end of the road, there will be love and happiness. 
He is in no rush because no matter what, no matter how long it takes or how painful the journey is, he knows that he’s waiting for his wife, the one woman who will make everything worth it. 
Even though he found her and then he lost her, he knows that he can’t chase after her; everything will come to a close when it’s time, when they’re ready. They need to grow and mature on their own, become better for each other, before they can finally be together. 
They just need a little time. 
He can live with that. 
245 notes · View notes
floatingpetals · 6 years ago
Text
Call Of The Mountains || Ch. 4
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes (Werewolf AU!)
Warnings: Nothin, a little bit of language
Word Count: 3300+
Summary:  (Werewolf-AU!Stucky x f!reader) Life had begun to overwhelm her. Work was insane and her life was a mess. There was a tug in her soul that called her to take this trip, deep into the forest away, where there was the peace and stillness of nature. She didn’t know why, but she knew she needed to listen. It was meant to be a relaxing trip, but one misstep on some moss sent her tumbling into the rapids of the flooded river. She thought she was gone and the earth decided it was time to reclaim her. She didn’t expect was to be pulled from the river nor the creature that saved her. Her entire world is turned upside down and all it took was an accidental step to the left. (18+ Only Story)
A/N: Fuckin’ FINALLY. I had this done for a while but an idea popped up in my head that I had to go and rewrite b/c it flowed better. It took a while to get to this point, and while it’s a little dry(sorry ya’ll) I needed to build it like this.  I hope you all enjoy and thank you for being so patient! Let me know what you think!! Enjoyy! ❤
The gifs are not mine, credit to the owner.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5  | Series Masterlist
Y/N woke up in pain. It’s probably because I had to throw up the water in my lungs, she thought bitterly. It was an awful pain that she never wanted to relieve again. The next pain that ranked up there in the worst pain she’s known was the thrumming in her head and the excruciating pain in her wrist.
She groaned, her uninjured hand reaching up to feel the back of her head. She winced at the tender flesh and could feel her pulse through the spot on her head. Strangely she felt little plastic like strings- stitches she realized. That couldn’t be right.  
That dawned on her that she was laying on something too soft to be the grass in someplace too quiet to be beside the river. A flash of black and vivid gray shot across her memory, the shape fuzzy and strange.
Blearily, Y/N opened her eyes. She was alarmed, but also incredibly confused that she was sitting in what looked like a doctor’s office. The walls were bare apart from a beautiful portrait of a mountain in a dark frame. Pulling her gaze from the picture, she looked around the room to take the unassuming room in. The door clicked open and a woman with blazing red hair stepped in.
She glanced up from the clipboard in her hand, rooted in spot when she saw Y/N awake and alert. A look of relief washed over her face and the woman went to shout down the hall.
“She’s up!”
Y/N frowned, her heart rate picking up as the panic began to settle in. She had no idea who this woman was or even where she was for that matter. Nope, not good. Her eyes darted to the window and back to the door before she looked back at the woman.
“Oh, hey. No, it’s okay. I’m a friend I swear.” The woman soothed and grabbed the little stool on wheels next to a set of cabinets. She rolled it up next to the bed, her eyes soft but wary. “My name’s Natasha. You’re in our medical cabin where you were brought after you were pulled out of the river. You were in pretty rough shape. You had a gash on your forehead that needed to be stitched up and your wrist has a pretty bad fracture.” Natasha explained. Slowly, she reached out to Y/N, ready to pull back in case the young woman panicked further. “I’m going to help you sit up, okay?”
Y/N nodded, thankful for some help while her body trembled from the shock of it all. Careful of her wrist, Natasha helped her leaned her back against the wall and swung her legs out in front of her. As she did that, a man with a white coat walked in. He greeted Y/N warmly with a smile before he went to the sink to wash his hands.
“Good to see you up.” He said. “We were getting worried for a second there.”
He grabbed a pen from his coat pocket, a little flashlight she realized when he clicked one end, and stepped up in front of her.  He instructed her to look at the light to check her pupil's dilations. Once satisfied, he turned and carefully took the IV drip from her arm and bandaged it up before she had time to blink. 
“I’m Dr. Banner, but you can call me Bruce.” He grinned. “What should we call you?”
“Y/N,” She replied softly. She winced at the burn in her throat. Bruce noticed and motioned for Natasha to get her a cup of water.
“And what year is it?”
“2019?”
“Correct. Well Y/N I wish we could have met under better circumstances. But I’m happy to report that you’ve lucked out and don’t have a very serious concussion. You’ll probably be good here in a few days, but I still want to check in on your progress from time to time.”
“O-okay?” Y/N said uncertainly. She took a sip from the cup Natasha handed her, still utterly confused. “Um… Where am I exactly?”
“Oh! You’re in Blackhollow, just a little way north of the reserve. We’re the closest place that has the facilities to handle your situation, so you were brought here.” He responded from the clipboard Natasha walked in with. Y/N’s face scrunched in confusion, both with who could have brought her here and where Blackhollow was.
She had gone over the map of the area countless times until she was certain she had it memorized. Absolutely nowhere was there a place called Blackhollow. Especially not north of the reserve. That she knew for a fact was all protect lands and there shouldn’t be places like this around the area. No one was allowed to break the land and build something here. Biting her tongue, Y/N watched the two warily, sipping on the water to hide her nerves.
“I’m sure you're curious about the state of your wrist right now,” Bruce began, setting the clipboard down. “Natasha can you go grab some pain meds for her while I do that? Oh, and let Bucky know our patients awake.”
“Sure thing.” Natasha was already up and out of the door faster than Y/N had time to process.
“Wait, who’s Bucky?” She asked Bruce, who was now pulling out a set of x-rays from a folder. It caused her to pause, wondering when the heck they did those on her. “And how long was I out?”
“Bucky was the man who found you and pulled you out of the river,” Bruce explained and slid the x-rays on the lightbox. “And you’ve only been out for a few hours. We were about to have to get you in a car and take you to a nearby hospital to get you checked out if you didn’t wake up sooner. Fortunately, that didn’t need to happen.”
“Oh,” Y/N murmured and eyed the x-rays. “H-how did Bucky find me?”
Bruce shrugged, seemingly unbothered by that lack of information.
“He never said. Just that he pulled you out and brought you here. Although I am curious, how did you managed to fall the river?”
Y/N felt her face grow hot from embarrassment. She might be fuzzy on certain details afterward, but she definitely remembered that. Positively humiliated, she mumbled her story of how she was dive-bombed by two stupid birds and practically threw herself into the river to not lose an eyeball. Bruce at least tried to hide his grin by turning back to the x-ray.
“Well I’m sorry that happened but I’m glad you’re okay.” He said sincerely over his shoulder. “Let me go over your x-ray and then maybe Natasha will be back with some pain meds by now. I didn’t want to give you anything in case you were allergic.”
Y/N nodded and slowly stood, mindful of her wrist as she pushed off the bed. Bruce kept a careful eye on her, watching for any signs she might have a dizzy spell from standing. Her head hurt, well more like throbbed because of the concussion, but she didn’t want to throw up because of the spinning room. Confident enough in herself, Y/N walked over to stand beside Bruce and the x-rays.
He carefully explained the fracture and what might happen if she were to take the splint off. Not terribly keen on getting surgery, Y/N knew she’d be in some pain for some time until it healed. It also meant she’d have to explain to her mother why she got hurt and she already knew she was never going to hear the end of it. Y/N cringed and glanced at her wrist.
“Don’t worry too much about it. Accidents happen. I’m just glad Bucky pulled you out when he did.” Bruce tried to reassure her, somehow knowing she was starting to dread the future repercussions of her accident. 
He was partly right. It was an accident, but she also kind of asked for it by standing too close to the edge. She stared guiltily at the wall, her shoulders dropping.
Bruce frowned and clicked the lightbox off. Before he could say anything else, there was a gentle knock at the door. Natasha opened the door and stepped in, a bottle of water in one hand and a cup with a few pills in the other.
“Take these, they’ll help your head and your wrist. I’ll make sure you have some for later.” Natasha instructed and passed her the little cup. “You can’t take any for another 8 hours and you shouldn’t drink anything while on them. And driving is out of the questions as well, at least until we know how you handle the medicine.”
Nodding mutely, Y/N took the pills, ready for her wrist to finally stop throbbing.
“I’ve gone ahead and sent Bucky to the main house. He’s going to get you some food started, we figured you haven’t eaten in a while.” Natasha said over her shoulder as she began to set out disinfectant wipes for the exam table. She wasn’t going to mention the reason why she sent him over was to cool down from his talk with Steve. Y/N didn’t need to meet that side of him, especially not for the first time. “I’ll walk you over and introduce you. He’s pretty anxious to know how you're doing.”
“O-oh, okay.” Y/N blinked. Natasha grinned and motioned her to follow. Y/N turned to Bruce, who had taken up the cleaning duty and waved goodbye. “Thank you, for everything. I’ll probably see you later?”
“Yes. I’ll check in on you in a little while to see how your feeling. Goodbye, Y/N.” Bruce chuckled and waved her off with a happy grin.
Natasha led her out of the medical cabin through a side door and down a dirt road. Y/N took a quick glance around the area, surprised at how seamlessly the cabin seemed to blend in with the forest. She picked up her pace, not wanting to be left behind in a strange place.
“So how long has this been here?” Y/N asked curiously.
“That’s a bit of a newer addition, maybe two years?” Natasha replied. “We don’t usually need it all that often, but on occasion, someone breaks an arm or something and we got tired having to drive an hour towards the nearest hospital.”
“Oh,” Y/N muttered lamely. “And there’s a main house?”
“Yes, it was the first house built here in the area and slowly as others came to settle here, more homes were built. The main house is used as kind of the common area, or any time we need to have meetings we all meet up there.”
“So like a city hall?”
“Kind of,” Natasha shrugged, “We don’t really consider this a city, hell it’s not even much of a town. But yeah, it kind of works that way.”
“So,” Y/N frowned, still a little confused. “Is-… Would you consider this more of a settlement?”
Natasha looked over her shoulder to Y/N, her brow raised. A guarded expression flashed across her face and for a second Y/N thought she’d tell her to mind her business. Natasha, however, let out a heavy sigh and turned back to face the road.
“In a way, I suppose.”
Y/N fell silent, not entirely certain what else to say. She didn’t want to step on Natasha’s toes any more than she was already had. Clearly, the topic of whatever Blackhollow was, was a touchy subject. She still had several questions, but Y/N thought it might be a good idea to wait and ask someone else.
The road wound through the trees, finally connecting with another road to a form a ‘t’. The left went around a sharp curve while the right went straight and disappeared through the trees. Natasha stopped short, and Y/N nearly slammed into the back of her. She stumbled and let out a surprised squeak.
“Sorry,” Natasha said and turned to face Y/N. “Before we go any further though, I need to explain a few things to you.”
“O-kay?” Y/N replied uncertainly, her eyes darting around the unassuming-looking road. Natasha took in a heavy breath before speaking.
“Blackhollow isn’t a town like you’re used to. We like to keep to ourselves, it’s one of the reasons why we’re where we are.” Natasha began seriously. “A lot of the people here won’t take kindly to you being here and might try to scare you off. If you feel like you’re being threatened, you probably are.”
“What-?” Y/N’s eyebrows shot up and her eyes went wide, but Natasha kept going.
“I’m not saying this to freak you out, but you need to understand. We’re a different breed out here. A little bit more dangerous and rougher around the edges. We like our privacy and do things a certain way.” Natasha continued with her face blank. Y/N was at a loss for words, completely thrown for a loop.
Now she was nervous, not like she wasn’t before, but now it was tenfold. Her instincts were screaming at her to make a break for it, to run somewhere else other than were ever Natasha was leading her. Of course, there was the problem that Y/N had no idea where she was, and all the trees looked the same so the possibility of her running in circles was fairly high.
“Ordinarily I’d say, ‘so long as you follow the rules, the others shouldn’t bother you’,” Natasha looked Y/N up and down, tilting her head to the side as she contemplated something. “But, something’s different about you. Don’t know what, don’t really care. All I know is if someone tries to chest up you, you better stand your ground.”
“’C-chest up’ me?” Y/N gaped. Natasha chuckled again and turned to take the left route and began to head down the road. Not really wanting to be left alone in the woods as the sun was beginning to set, Y/N reluctantly followed.
“Yep, kind of phrase we use around here. Pretty much it’s when someone gets in your face and tries to puff out their chest.” Natasha explained, showing her what she meant by pulling back her shoulders and jutting her chin out. “A lot of the time it’s to see if the other persons willing to get in a fight or not. More often than not its all for show.”
Y/N squinted at Natasha in disbelief. No way this could be real. I mean, do people really act like this around here? She thought to herself. But Natasha hadn’t done anything to make Y/N question her yet.
Natasha sent Y/N one more wide grin before she turned a sharp curve. Y/N sighed and glanced around the trees for a moment before turning back to where Natasha went. However, when she turned the same curve in the road, Natasha was gone and something else that lay in front of her that caught her off guard.
There was a giant clearing where the road suddenly faded off, huge and very out of place for the middle of the forest. It was nothing but a giant open field up against the mountain with the occasional trees scattered in the area. She could see the sky above, the fading light shining on the peculiar empty field.
She was also surprised to see how close they were to the mountain. It helped that she spent time learning the map before coming and now she had a better idea of where she was. She was miles from the campsite if she guessed right. Worse still, there was no sign of Natasha.
Her heart stopped. Y/N’s steps falter as her eyes darted around the clearing.  A prickling feeling began growing in the back of her head. Everything nerve in her body was screaming at her to turn away, to run and not look back. It was suffocating, making it harder to breathe. It was clawing at her throat, trying to get out in a scream. She hesitated in her next step, finding it harder and harder to ignore the overwhelming sense of fear. The noise in her head grew louder and louder, sweat starting to bead across her forehead. She didn’t want to keep going, but she also needed to find Natasha.
Taking in a deep breath, Y/N tried to shove aside the terror inside her and took two steps forward. The voice was at its crescendo, making her knees grow week and her head pulsed in pain. The hair on her neck stood on its end, once again Y/N questioned her sanity. But something else was telling her to do this. She was stronger than whatever this was. Blindly following the little voice that tried to soothe her through the screams of fright, Y/N willed herself to take one more step with her eyes clenched shut. The relief was instantaneous. It was like the bubble burst and the scream ceased to exist. Cracking an eye open, Y/N gasped.
Natasha stood right in front of her, a proud smile on her face. If her sudden appearance wasn’t surprising enough, it’s what was behind the woman that was the icing to the cake.
In what used to be the wide clearing were several quaint little homes, all set up along the road that mysteriously appeared under her feet.  It winded along, and up the mountain, disappearing further from sight. She could see more houses up the mountain as well, speckled in the densely wooded forest. Her mouth fell open in shock, her brain reeling to find an explanation.
“I-I-Wh-. But this-. Wait-.” Y/N stammered, unable to form any coherent words. Natasha laughed, light and airy despite the situation. It was enough to bring Y/N back with a snap. “What the actual fuck?!”
“There’s a lot I can’t explain. Not yet.” Natasha beamed and walked to Y/N side. She loped her arm through Y/N’s and started to walk towards the biggest house in the middle, practically dragging the stunned woman with. It must have been the main house, from its placement and all. What was even more peculiar was the strange wooden people that stood directly in front of it. “But you’re not crazy. If that helps.”
“I don’t think that will.” Y/N uttered, unable to stop from looking around. There were a few people standing around, in what she thought might be the front of their homes. They stared, some with confusion on their faces while others seemed passive. No one dared to step closer and greet the newcomer though, which did little to ease Y/N’s nerves. “What the actual fuck?”
Natasha snorted, finding the entire thing rather comical. Y/N shot her a glare.
“It’s not funny. What the fuck was that?”
“Wow, you’re pretty colorful when you’re in shock huh?” Natasha giggled. She went to walk around the pole, but Y/N stopped short.
Now that she was closer, Y/N realized it wasn’t just a wooden pillar in the ground. Towering high above was an intricately decorated totem pole, the paint, and carvings still distinct despite being in the open. In fact, it looked almost untouched by the test of time. She couldn’t tell if there was a story, but she recognized a bird, a wolf, and a bear among some of the animals. It seemed to hum with an energy Y/N couldn’t place, almost as if it was calling her to step closer.
“That’s been here since before I could remember,” Natasha said. Y/N blinked, the sudden interruption tearing her from the haze.
“O-oh.” Y/N cleared her throat and took a step back. If Natasha noticed the strange shift in Y/N, she didn’t comment. She ushered Y/N towards the step of the house by taking her arm back in hers. Y/N’s head swiveled around to stare back at the totem pole, thoroughly puzzled by the feeling she was getting from it. She eyed the strange markings on the back and had to do a double-take. It looked as if the marking began to glow and pulse, the grass bending with the ripple.
Nope, she denied. It’s gotta be the conclusion. That why I’m seeing things. Yep, lets just call it that.
Y/N didn’t know how much more she could take of this strange venture and as she stepped into the house that wasn’t there five minutes ago, she wondered just how much more was going to get thrown her way.
508 notes · View notes
atlas-of-a-human-soul · 6 years ago
Text
Hurt, pt.5 (E.D.)
Tumblr media
Summary: Three weeks later, Ethan and Y/N are in very different mindsets and while Grayson and Ethan had a heart to heart and promises were made, Grayson breaks a few
Warnings: ANGST, swearing, talk of depression, the end might be triggering and it contains depictions of blood
Word Count: 3000
Hurt - Series Masterlist
Ethan sat across from his therapist, glancing at her once or twice uncomfortably. His fingers grasped the leather chair with more force than necessary, his nails clawing at it unforgivably in a need of release - pent up anger and sadness mostly directed toward himself, it all needed a vent to come out.
“I called Grayson.” He sighed, looking down at his bouncing knees. He didn’t even realize he was doing it before, making a conscious decision to stop with the annoying habit.
“You came.” Ethan sprang to his feet, greeting his brother like an old friend. It’s been a while since they’ve hugged, let alone been civil to each other for any matter aside from work. Two months to be exact.
“Of course I did. Is she okay?” Grayson tapped his brother’s shoulder, relieved he had been on his mind long enough to make the list of people he’d call. While he had been extremely angry and disapproving of Ethan’s actions, Grayson still adored his brother more than anything. He just hoped he’d get back to some form of sanity where he could get to him.
“She’s, uh, in there. They won’t let me see her. Which is for the best, really.” Ethan folded his arms over his chest, something to hide his shaky hands from Grayson. Being open and vulnerable about his state of mind has never been easy for Ethan. He had a tendency to bottle things up and explode like a ticking time bomb. But now that he’s seen the damage, he had to come clean.
“She’s also pregnant, I think. I’m not sure, I heard something.” He added, noticing Grayson’s dumbfounded look. Grayson looked like he needed a seat himself, struggling to decide whether or not to be happy about being an uncle or devastated the baby would be born in a broken marriage.
“I broke things off with Bianca. Think I might need an assistant again. And someone to cover for me at work because I…I’m going to check myself into a mental institution. Tonight. Now.” Ethan knew he was throwing too much new information at his brother, but he needed to bring him up to speed before he took the plunge. He had to know his Y/N would be taken care of properly in his name.
He wasn’t a fan of doctor Henstridge, but the man had a point. Y/N is in a horrible position now and the pregnancy makes it even harder. If he wants her safe, he needs to remove himself from the equation for a while. Just enough to heal himself. Just until he can start thinking straight and make good decisions for the future.
“I think I’m going to lose it.” Grayson reached for his inhaler, in need of a breath he couldn’t seem to find on his own as his heart beats wildly fast and his lungs constricted painfully.
“It’s bad, Gray. I can’t be a good dad or husband when I can’t even help myself. I’ll go, do the work and the moment I’m out I will grovel for forgiveness.” Ethan leaned into his seat, tears pooling in his brown eyes - the color Y/N never knew she could love so much or that she’d look for in every man’s eyes, but the shade was never quite right as it was in Ethan’s, undeniably more attractive and enticing than any other brown eyes she had ever seen.
“I’ll take her home with me. Clara will know what to do. They’ve always been close.” Grayson spoke slowly, unsure what to say about his brother’s decision to check into an institution. On one hand, Grayson admired his bravery, on the other, he feared it. The first time around, they had both been in the darkness. They had each other and somehow they made it through. But for Ethan, his proud brother, to decide he needs inpatient treatment? That was terrifying.
“If she asks, tell her I’m in Australia for business or something. Just don’t tell her the truth.” Ethan swiped his thumb under his nose, sniffling.
“Why? Why don’t you talk to her? Clear the air before disappearing for a minimum of two weeks?!” Grayson raised his voice which got him shushed by nurse Jackie immediately. He nodded as if to apologize, returning his attention to his broken brother.
“No.” Ethan was sure of his answer.
“What I did comes with consequences. I can’t just walk in there and tell her I’m a depressed fuck-up who left her for someone else who I knew wasn’t right for me all along. In fact, I wasn’t even going to leave her that day. I just wanted to tell her the truth. I wanted to be honest and tell her I love her more than anything but I thought I felt something real for someone else. I had no intention of acting on those feelings and I was going to tell her something wasn’t right with me, but she got so angry.” Ethan paused, his lips quivering. Hoping to hide his fallen defenses, he ran a hand over his chin, covering his mouth as he continued.
“She got angry and she didn’t want to listen. Then I got angry and I let her lash out and I let her walk away thinking she would be better off anyway. It’s still on me. I let her walk out. I wasn’t completely open with her. My choices hurt us and I refuse to use my depression as an excuse, a hook to draw her back in based on guilt and worry.” Ethan stood, walking over to the door that separated him from the love of his life who had fallen asleep with the help of a mild sedative, unaware of his unraveling in front of her room.
“If she ever takes me back, I don’t want it to be because I’m fucked in the head. I want it to be because I made some kind of a redeeming decision that had benefited her and our child.” Taking in a deep breath, he turned to Grayson.
“I love her more than anything. I’m not dragging her down with me. So you take care of her for me, okay?” Ethan smiled meekly as he stepped closer to his brother.
“And give her this when you deem she’s able to take it.” Ethan slipped a piece of paper in Grayson’s hand before turning around and walking out.
“It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” Ethan’s voice breaks and his psychiatrist nods. She already saw progress in him, even if it’s been just three weeks. She believed her client would be okay eventually, that he’d heal. He would find a way to return to society in time.
“Everyone manages their depression differently. Some keep pretending nothing’s wrong and just go through the motions. Others manage to burn their life to the ground…some take other’s down with them. I’m proud of you and the decisions you’ve made. You were selfless, you cared. But you will need support to claw your way back up.”
Meanwhile, Grayson had done as Ethan asked. It wasn’t easy, but he had convinced Y/N she could trust him. She didn’t mention the possible pregnancy Ethan did, but it didn’t stop Grayson from acting like an overprotective proxy for Ethan.
That day, Grayson waited until morning for Y/N to wake up before coming into her room. She was awake and talking, a faint smile upon her lips and he knew she was doing better. She wasn’t well versed in faking emotion, one of the things he loved about his sister in law. She was always honest about her heart and Grayson always knew what to expect – no hidden motives, what you see is what you get.
“I was worried sick, but you seem to be doing well.” Grayson cleared his throat, eyeing the blonde man who was talking to her way too closely considering his position. This doctor had crossed boundaries and Grayson didn’t quite like it. There’s a reason ethics exists and there’s a pretty solid rule on having a professional relationship with your patients.
“Gray?!” She pushed herself up into a sitting position, her eyes wide and locked on the door behind her brother in law. It’s as if she was waiting for Ethan to come in after him, to ask her to talk to him or clear things. For some ungodly reason, Y/N spent the whole night dreaming of Ethan coming to her rescue. In her dreams it was all perfect as it used to be – her Ethan being as kind and as gentle as he was when they met, as adventurous and sweet as he was in their relationship, as loving and romantic as he was in their marriage. She missed that version of him terribly.
“I’ve been called as next of kin. Wanted to bring you home. Clara can’t wait to have your around more and the kids are already decorating the guest room.” Grayson smiled, stepping closer to her bed with a quick glance at the doctor who kept a close eye on him. It’s evident the doctor doesn’t trust him, probably assuming he’d just take her back to Ethan, the bad guy in his mind.
“Oh. I can’t. You know I can’t.” She heard her voice crack, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she tried to keep herself together. Going to Grayson’s meant seeing Ethan and she didn’t know if she wanted to. Her subconscious seemed to urge her to see him, but her conscious wanted her as far as possible. Her brain would remind her of the pain inflicted upon her by his careless words and traitorous actions and she was scared of feeing anymore of it. Love and hate are two sides of the same coin and while she was dancing on the line between the two, she preferred to hate him for what he had done. It’s much easier to hate him than love him, because if she loved him still, she’d have to hate herself. So, yes, to love herself, Y/N had to hate Ethan.
“He’s gone to Australia. You won’t even see him. He’ll be gone for a while.” Grayson reassured her, noticing her features fall but a curt nod followed.
“Great.” She piped up, turning to doctor Henstridge. “I supposed you can get me discharged then?” Her lips curled up at the corners, managing to get a prompt response.
“Yes, of course. We still have to talk about –“ Edward cleared his throat awkwardly as he glanced at her belly only to resume eye contact a moment later, “your, uh, situation.”
“Situation?” Grayson cocked his head to the side, hoping she’d tell him of her pregnancy. However, all she did is smile up at him – she wouldn’t lie to him, but she wouldn’t tell him anything just yet. It didn’t feel like the right time.
“All in good time, Gray.”
Grayson kept a close eye on Y/N, feeling his anxiety grow as he pulled his wife aside for a quick question.
“Did she tell you anything?” He spoke to Clara, but he didn’t even look her way. No. Grayson’s eyes have been trained on Y/N since he brought her home and while she spent most of her time with his kids or on that porch swing he and Ethan built for Clara in their house. Ethan had talked him into building a matching one on his porch as well, mostly because Y/N was the reading type and he insisted he wanted her to have a porch swing.
She would sneak a peek at her porch swing from across the river, back at the house she and Ethan designed themselves. It was on the same property as Grayson’s house, separated by a river and a small woodsy area, two minutes away and very visible from her current position. It looked the same, as if it wasn’t the place her hopes have burned to ashes.
“You really want to live in the middle of nowhere?” Ethan questioned, his arms tightly wrapped around her waist, securing her to his body as if she were a balloon and she could fly away from him any second now. She placed her hands on his arms, drawing in a deep breath as she stared at the old house that definitely needed fixing up and vision, but she had it. She knew that the house had potential even if it was a rubble. He didn’t know it then, but when they met, she could still see his rubble. Despite what he thinks, she loved the rubble and she loved every crack because she saw the potential beauty behind it. And she believed that in this moment, as they were talking about buying a huge property with his twin brother, that the potential beauty she saw had truly come to life.
“It’s big and Grayson could get the one on the other side and you’d still have your own place but also your brother whenever you wanted to.” She turned in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck loosely.
“I dream of us starting a big family on this property. I can see the porch swing you’d make Grayson build me, the bay windows, the swings we’d get for the kids and the trampoline because you want to have one despite your age.” She smiled as he chuckled, aware he’s on board with the plan.
“Little Ethan and Y/N running around, driving us nuts.” Ethan licked his lips, his eyes glued to hers as if there was nothing more important in the world but the way she made his heart beat whenever her eyes bore into his.
“I love the vision as long as I’m part of it.” He decided, leaning in to press his lips to hers.
She could almost taste his lips as the memory had faded, catching a sob in her throat before it sounded. Every moment spent together was now a painful memory. They are sharp, and cut right through her she thinks about their past. Even the sweet good moments they had are now turned into a knife that kills her already broken heart.
Ethan had pierced her soul; made her skeptical about people and love. And she can’t help but hate him. She fucking hates him for that, for turning her into this broken mess, and even if she never saw him again, his touch will be with her for years, or maybe for the rest of her life, who knows. But she will see him again. She felt it in her bones. After all, she was to bear his children and she had decided she wouldn’t hide it from him. He’s an asshole, but he deserves to know he’s going to be a father.
“I’m sure he’ll love you guys. I’m sure he’ll be a bit shocked about the numbers, but he always said he wanted three kids. I guess that’s going to be something he can cross off his bucket list now. Unless Bianca gives him more.” She sighed, shaking her head to stop the thoughts from overpowering her.
“I never expected to have three at once, but at least I can close shop after.” She chuckled, wiping a persistent tear off her cheek as she placed a palm over her lower abdomen, unaware she’s no longer alone.
“Three?” Grayson breathes out, holding onto the porch swing as he lowers himself on his knees, half out of his mind. That’s something he didn’t see coming. He expected one, but three? He wondered if Ethan knew. Or if he didn’t, would he have done the same if he did?
“Please don’t tell him. Let me.” Y/N turned to Grayson, her lips pressed together in a thin line as she pleaded.
“I won’t. But…you should know he and Bianca aren’t together and from what he last told me they never will be.” Grayson wanted to at least open the door for his brother to have a place to come home to once he returns. If he couldn’t tell her anything else, he’d do this for them both. A small act of kindness.
“Wha-what the hell do you mean by that? Because he told me he loves her.” Y/N stood, her insides shaking – from pain or anger? She couldn’t tell.
“He said he never wanted a divorce. He thought he felt something for her, but he said it was just the mist of their past clouding his judgment. He wouldn’t have acted upon his feelings, but you wouldn’t hear him out and you left him, serving him with papers a month later.” Grayson defended his brother only to receive a scoff in disbelief on Y/N’s side. She felt herself shake, certain she’s enraged this time around.
“I WOULDN’T LISTEN?” She was losing control once more, her head pounding. “HE TOLD ME HE LOVES SOMEONE ELSE AND THEN HE LET ME SIT IN AGONIZING SILENCE AS WE WATCHED YOUR KIDS!” It felt like her throat would be scratched raw by her shouting, but she could care less. She was brought back to the edge she thought she walked away from and it threatened to make her fall again.
“I can’t believe the crap that comes out of his mouth.” She giggled, but her giggle quickly turned to a sob as she clutched her stomach. She had to bite her lip to keep herself from crying out, doubling down.
“What’s happening right now?!” Grayson jumped back to his feet, his arms open to catch her if she falls. He couldn’t tell if this was a real emergency or her simply trying to find a way to process what he told her.
But Y/N didn’t even think about Ethan right now. She felt something warm…something liquid come out of her. She felt herself growing faint for when she opened her eyes, blood began to drop on the porch and she didn’t need to check to know where it’s coming from.
She didn’t hold back her tears any longer.
“I think I’m having a miscarriage.”
Tags: @melodiesforari @brittttneyyyy @beautorigin  @dolandolll @xalayx @godlydolans @heyits-claire @peacedolantwins @dolanstwintuesday @accalialionheart @ethanhes @lanadeldolans @ebbach-03 @dolangels  @xxaamzxx @cutestdolans @yaren-ates @dolansmith @vintagebitttch @primadolangirl @caqsicle @jjustjoy @justordinaryjen @graydolan12 @imaginashawnns @graysonslovie @fandomsfeministsandothershit @bdsmdolan @graysavant @ethanspillow @dopedoodes @anything-dolan  @sugarfootdolan @joyrivh​ @reblogserpent​ @jonesana​ 
239 notes · View notes
starscheme · 5 years ago
Text
Lost Stars
A/N: This is a SodaLars Fanfiction involving an Original Gem I created and introduced in another FanFiction titled "With All My Heart." Though I still provide Sodalite's background in this story, you may be a little confused if you haven't read the other. Still, Hopefully you can read this story and follow along even without having read With All My Heart.
Chapter One: To Help You
The sun was setting along the horizon of the ocean water and the day was finally coming to an end. This was a huge relief to the pink young man who was sitting on the sand, his appearance rather disheveled from a nasty fall he'd taken earlier. After closing his bakery for the evening, Lars had spent the last few hours trying to locate and calm a Gem named Sodalite.
This Gem was the only one of her kind. A Gem created by Blue Diamond to ease the negative feelings of Pink Diamond. With the ability to absorb dark feelings and purify them within herself, Blue thought Sodalite would be of use in keeping Pink calm and happy. However, Sodalite was only able to absorb Pinks fears and anxieties, not her anger, resulting in many more temper tantrums than before.
Because of this, Sodalite was deemed useless. It was decided that no others would be made and the one remaining would be shattered as she no longer had a purpose on Homeworld. Fearing for her life, Sodalite fled the palace and managed to hide herself away. When Sodalite heard of Pinks new colony, she hoped to seek refuge there. Unfortunately, during attempt to get to Earth, Sodalite's Gem was cracked. As a result, Sodalite was unable to control her ability and would absorb all the fears and anxieties of all the Gems near her. She also found herself unable to purify those emotions. Instead, they filled her to the brim, until the poor Gem was frightened of just about everything. Not to mention that when those dark feelings overflowed, any Gem close by would experience their worse fears, nearly causing their own demise with the pressure on their gems.
Luckily, Lars was able to help this Gem when she finally came looking for Pink Diamond. Since he was human, Sodalite didn't feel his fear or see the dark feelings that surrounded him. Though she had caused some trouble for Steven and Spinel in her need for healing, eventually, Sodalite was fixed. However, after nearly eight thousand years of being filled with fear, Sodalite wasn't so easily fixed. Like Pinks first Pearl, she was left with a permanent defect. Sodalite couldn't help being afraid of nearly everything and was too anxious to go near Gems again. She'd also found that her power could now extinguish all light around her, covering everything in pure darkness. Which happened often when she panicked.
Since Lars was the only one Sodalite was not afraid of, he was often called on by a Gem from little homeworld when Sodalite was having a bad episode. Today seemed to be no exception. Sodalite had fallen down on her way home and when several Gems tried to offer help, Sodalite blacked out the area and caused a bit of an uproar before running away. It took some time, but Lars finally tracked her down and took a terrible tumble in the dark while trying to reach her blind.
"I'm sorry..." Sodalite began, her voice soft and trembling as she hugged her knees to her chest. Finally feeling at ease as she stared out at the setting sun.
With a sigh, Lars reached over and gently pat the Gems head. Sure, he was tired and needed a shower after that fall he took in the dark, but he didn't hate her for it. "You're fine. Hey, you went a whole week without a blackout this time. I think that's pretty good."
Sodalite glanced cautiously at the pink human and felt even worse when she saw his dirt patched. He was always so kind to her. Even when she caused him no end of trouble. Surely she was making his life difficult. "You...didn't call my Steven this time..." she pointed out quietly, turning a bit and reaching for his face to brush some of the mud from his cheek.
"We don't have to call him every time. It would just stress you both out," replied Lars, stiffening his shoulders a bit as Sodalite's fingers gently wiped the dirt from his face.
"Every time this happens...My Steven seems disappointed in my lack of progress. ...I just can't seem to fit in here. I didn't belong on Homeworld either..."
Lars was quiet for a moment, glancing down at Sodalite's sullen expression. For all the trouble that Sodalite caused, some wondered why Lars bothered to help her. She wasn't his responsibility after all. However, the reason Lars was fine with Sodalite staying near him, was because she reminded him so much of himself and how he used to be. Never feeling like he had a place in this world, feeling alone, always being afraid. "It's only because you're not used to it yet. Remember what Pearl said? It's gonna take time to adjust. You're not the only Gem having trouble."
"..." Sodalite pulled her hand back to herself and stared down at the sand. "...I guess."
Lars felt at a loss. He wanted to cheer her up, but he still wasn't sure how to do that. She wasn't like the others yet. There wasn't anything on Earth that she enjoyed. Was it always this hard to make a girl smile? He wasn't ever very good at that. "H-hey, why don't you try helping Blue Lace at the front counter tomorrow? It would be good practice interacting with people and you know, mostly humans come in, so you won't have to see that weird, fog, smoke stuff that you normally do."
Though Sodalite liked having an excuse to see Lars, she worried about her impact on his store. "What if...I make a mistake and something bad happens? I could black out the store and ruin something again. Remember what happened before...?"
"That...was different?" Lars tried again. "I mean, you had just—-no, yeah, it was pretty bad." He admitted finally. "But I think you'll do better this time. Why not give it one more shot?"
The freckled Gem was apprehensive, but eventually nodded her head. If Lars really thought she could do it, she wanted to try her best and make him proud. Even if the idea of greeting strangers made her stomach turn. Satisfied with her answer, Lars stood up and proceeded to pat the sand from his pants before offering her a hand up.
"Cool, now let's get you home so that I can shower and change out of this ripped shirt."
"I'm sorry," she said again, allowing Lars to help lift her from her seat on the sand. "If only I could heal like My Steven. You must feel rather sore after a fall like that..."
"Yeah, but then you'd have to slober all over my face and—-" as the words came out, Lars felt his cheeks begin to burn and he quickly cut himself off. "—-I mean—-you know, cause he uses...never mind. Forget I said that." Lars stammered slightly, glancing away from her silver eyes as she stared up at him.
"I understand. You must be feeling ill from all the stress. That...I cause," added Sodalite, feeling slightly downhearted by her own words.
"I'm not sick. Now that I think about it, I haven't gotten sick since...I changed color." Lars thought aloud, turning to walk Sodalite towards the nearest Warp Pad that would take her home. Depending on how nervous she was, Sodalite traveled with him in two ways. If she was still feeling scared, the blue Gem would cling to the back of his shirt and stick close behind him. If she had calmed down, she'd hug tight to his arm. Each option made it a little difficult to walk comfortably, but it was a way he determined her mood. Considering that Sodalite had hugged his arm, she must have felt better.
Though it was always a good thing when she was calm, Lars was still a young man and Sodalite was quite well endowed in the chest, which always pressed against him while she hugged herself close. It often made their walks rather quiet since Lars would be replaying old wrestling matches in his head to distract himself.
"Oh, hey Lars," greeted Sadie as she was just leaving the boardwalk.
Lars stopped and Sodalite felt him tense up as the blonde human approached them. "H-hey, Sadie. How's it going? I thought you and Shep already left town..."
"Ah, mom sort of strong armed us into staying a little longer. Who's your friend?" asked Sadie, leaning to the side so that she could get a better look at the Gem who was slowly edging herself behind Lars to hide.
"Huh? Oh, um, this is Sodalite. I was just uh...walking her home." Lars answered awkwardly. Should he have phrased it differently? Walking her home nearly sounded as if they had just finished a date or something. "Sodalite, this is Sadie."
Sodalite hugged Lars' arm a bit tighter, staring back at Sadie cautiously. She'd heard some of the off colors mention that name before, but Lars had never said anything about her. So why did he seem so nervous? Regardless, since Lars was introducing her, Sodalite didn't want to appear rude. "...h-hello..." mumbled Sodalite quietly.
"It's nice to meet you, Sodalite. Are you staying in little Homeworld too? I bet you guys will have to expand soon with all the Gems that keep coming. Do you like Beach City?"
"I don't like it," replied Sodalite, her voice just above a whisper. "I only like Lars."
With a sharp inhale, Lars froze in place. Stunned still by Sodalite's choice of words. Sadie also seemed a bit taken aback. "Y-yeah?" Sadie began, feeling slightly embarrassed now.
"N-no! She doesn't mean it like that!" Lars added frantically, his blush burning all the way to his ears. "She-she's just a little attached to me! I was the first human she met, so, ya know, I'm just kinda...looking out for her."
Sodalite couldn't help noticing how panicked Lars was now. Had she said something wrong? She thought if she spoke with the human girl Lars would be proud of her. Instead, he seemed upset.
Sadie took in his words and appeared confused now. "Is...this why you postponed going back into Space?"
"...back into space?" repeated Sodalite.
Once again, Lars panicked a bit, pressing his finger to his lips to insist that Sadie not go any further. If Sodalite knew he might leave earth, she would just freak out. It would ruin all the progress she had made and he was trying his best to help her adjust before he left.
Sadie was quick on the uptake, but she didn't exactly approve. Why was he hiding such a thing from this Gem? It was a little disconcerting. "Um, sorry, guess I was confused. Well, I should head back. We should talk more soon. See you later, Sodalite."
Lars nodded his head and waved slowly as Sadie walked away. Glad that she didn't spill the beans, but always a little disappointed when he had to watch her walk away.
Sodalite said nothing, glancing up at Lars to examine his expression. He didn't look sad, but he didn't exactly look happy either as he watched the human girl get further away. In fact, it seemed as if he wanted to say something, but Sodalite wasn't sure what that could be. "...Lars?" tried Sodalite, tugging on his arm lightly to get his attention.
"Huh? ...oh. Sorry," Lars began with a forced smile. "I was thinking about something."
"About what?"
Now Lars felt stupid for lying. Of course she would ask him a follow up question. He should've expected that. "Ah, um...I was thinking about how well you did just now. You didn't panic at all. I'm really proud of you."
The blue Gems eyes brightened and a warm smile laced her lips. "R-really?" Sodalite asked hopefully.
The way she looked up at him, so happy to be praised, it made him feel even worse for lying. Though he was proud that Sodalite did well, it wasn't what he had truly been thinking about. He wasn't about to admit that and ruin her mood. "Y-yeah," Lars began, using his free hand to reach over and pat her head lightly. "I know you don't think so, but you have been doing a lot better."
Sodalite's Gem began to glow as she raised her chin, happily accepting Lars' small show of affection. Nothing made her happier than when Lars praised her. Since being deemed useless almost immediately after being created, Sodalite had always felt useless. Almost more so now that she had left over damage from being broken. She was always messing up even here on earth. So when Lars told her she was doing well, it made her feel as though she might actually be useful to someone. "I'll do even better tomorrow, I promise." replied Sodalite with an elated smile, more determined than ever before to do a good job.
Lars smiled back at the Gem. Though he felt guilty, he was glad she seemed so determined. He didn't want to go back into space until he was sure that Sodalite could function without him around. Once she got used to things, she'd make more friends and she wouldn't need him as much anymore. That was the goal anyway, but the thought that she wouldn't depend on him anymore did feel a bit lonely. "Let's get you home so you can res—I mean, so you can prepare for tomorrow."
With that, Sodalite nodded her head and continued to walk with Lars towards the nearest warp pad. Though Lars' conversation with the human girl concerned her a little, she convinced herself that it was simply the normal paranoia that she often experienced. If she told Lars it made her anxious, he would find out that she didn't actually do as well as he thought. For now, Sodalite would attempt to put it from her mind and focus on what was to come tomorrow morning.
A/N: Well thats it for the first chapter. I hope you will follow Sodalite and Lars for a while. Also, don't worry, I'm working on my Other Fic's too. I've just been out of Insulin for a little while, so focusing on anything was nearly impossible while trying not to die. lol
However, a new chapter of Change My World and Only You will be out in the next few days. Thank you for all the support and love! Love you all!
35 notes · View notes
harringtonheartache · 6 years ago
Text
Call It Fate, Call It Karma | Part One
Part Two
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: Y/n is one of the Scoops Troop who finds herself in the underground Russian base, and ultimately ends up strapped to the back of Steve Harrington whilst facing imminent death. (Essentially Steve & Robin’s interrogation but the reader is in Robin’s place). 
Warning(s): Stranger Things 3 spoilers, descriptions of blood and violence, cussing
Word Count: 1,951
A/N: I am 100% in fucking love with Steve Harrington. The title is taken from a song by the same name by The Strokes, it’s cute, maybe give it a listen. Request more ST fics if ya want, Steve prompts in particular are appreciated :-). I love my chaos boyfriend. This is a part one! If you bitches want a second part tell me, although I will probably do it anyway because I feel weird leaving this story without a true conclusion. Okay enjoy. 
Tumblr media
The next punch to her face hit the air with the sound of a popping balloon. Her hand gripped the underside of the cold metal bench, the cool surface stimulating a sense of relief against her warm palms. This was not the first blow she has received in the past hour, as her expression was painted with reds and blues to match the Fourth of July festivities going on elsewhere. She closed her eyes, tired of fighting a battle with the fluorescent lights that seemed to hang from the ceiling just to cause her discomfort. This was taken as an act of insubordination to the Russian man who crouched before her. He took her whole face in one of his large hands, insistent on holding her full attention. His finger pushed aggravatingly on her swollen eye, an action that heightened the pain in her face. He spoke to her in English, but not even the removal of the language barrier would allow her drained mind to understand what was said to her so sternly. 
Apparently whatever was spoken acted as a preface to a change of location. As her body began being dragged out of the small room, she felt a strange alleviation of fear. While she made sure to remember that they could very well be taking her into a kill room to rid themselves of her as a liability, she took comfort in knowing that one phase of her torture interrogation was over. Her legs followed her upper body limply, her front side facing the ceiling as a large man pulled her like a wagon by the arm. She pulled once against his grip, as if this feeble attempt would grant her an upper hand in anyway. As if it was nothing to him (because it wasn’t), he slung her across the floor in front of him. She slid a good amount, smashing into Steve like two children at the bottom of a sledding hill. 
Their bodies laid there for a second, like two corpses awaiting disposal. Exhausted and half-conscious, Y/n used her knees to turn herself around to face Steve. “St- Steve? Hey, can you hear me?” He was with matching bodily damage, although it was safe to say that he had it a little worse than her during the interrogation phase. Her fingers met his shirt for a second, and she got one tug in before she herself was pulled from the floor and sat in a chair. Her shouts of disapproval were ignored as if they went unheard. Steve was removed from the ground as well, and placed in a chair that met the back of Y/n’s. Being the only one of the two imprisoned who remained conscious, she yelled profusely in displeasure. Much to her dismay, the men funneled out of the room like penguins, leaving them alone for the first time since their abduction. 
“Steve, wake up. Steve please fucking wake up, please. For fucks sake! Steve wake up.” Her voice was strained and weak, matching her worn appearance. She had endured her share of beatings without any urge to cry, but it was in this moment she felt that straining in the back of her throat that was usually followed by tears. “Steve fucking wake up,” the volume of her own voice added slightly to her increasing panic. She stirred indignantly in her chair, hoping that her movement -in addition to her rasping voice- would be enough to steal Steve from his unconscious state. After a few minutes of this, she was rewarded with a sound from him. “Hmm? Y/n?” 
“Steve! Oh fuck, thank you. Steve? Wake up. Are you awake?”
 “Uhhhh uh huh,” he dragged out the “h’s” of his speech, still struggling significantly with being awake. She let out a relieved laugh, but still worried for his physical state. “Are you okay?” She asked. “My ears are ringing, and I can’t really breathe. My eye feels like it’s about to pop out of my skull, but you know, apart from that I’m doing pretty good.” Although laced with sarcasm, the exchange of full sentence-length speech was reassuring. 
She closed her eyes again, this time able to do so without being met with an angry hand to her face. An almost content sigh left her bruised body. “What about you?” He asked. “I’m, uh.. bleeding. But okay,” she told him. Now that he was awake, her mind calmed, and she gave herself a moment to take in the room and weigh their options. There were a few drops of blood notable against the pale tile, a detail that some might overlook. Despite the contrast of the deep red and polished blue, the blood did not look abnormal splashed against the floor. The nature of the room invited spilled blood as a decoration. She leaned her head backwards to rest on Steve’s shoulder, physical contact that was comforting to the both of them. In a moment of dumb concern, she worried about bloodying his work uniform with her face. This maybe a thoughtful fear, had the interrogators been just as considerate in preserving his clothing during his own beating. 
She lifted her head after a minute or so, recognizing that she’d better use her time wisely. While the situation was very much real, she could not picture herself meeting her end in the minute room she sat in, strapped to the back of Steve Harrington. Looking to her left, she counted six metal tools spread out on a tray, like something you would see at the dentist’s office. The first of those six items was a pair of shining scissors. An excited huff of air left her nose as a smile spread across her mouth. “Hey, look to your right. There's a pair of scissors. If we hop together, maybe we can reach them.” It seemed like a solid plan, and Steve was enthused to follow her direction. “Oh shit, yeah let’s try that.”
Two hops in and perhaps feeling a little too confident, a third jump knocked them from their triumphant state and landed them on that pale blue floor. Despite their situation, the cool tile felt nice on their burning faces once they were down there. A drop of blood that had been making it’s way down Steve’s neck had it’s path redirected, and now moved horizontally, painting him a necklace of red. When it reached the floor, it added another splash to the already bloodied tile, looking just as natural as the others had. 
Given the circumstance, cuss words were the only vocabulary Y/n felt were appropriate to spill. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” A fitting trilogy of words. She started off her next sentence with another word from her list of obscenities. “Shit, we’re really dead, huh?”
 “No, no, no, we’re not dying here. We will not die in an underground Russian base that we didn’t know existed twenty-four hours ago,” he told her in a manner that he hoped would convince both of them that it was the truth. Y/n longed to blindly believe him; to be able to take his word for it that they would survive the rabbit hole their curiosity damned them down would be paradisaical. How polite of childish wonder to dig a grave for you (and a friend!). 
“I admire your optimism,” she spoke to him slowly. She felt defeated in every sense of the word. A brief silence fell over the two, but didn’t last as Steve spoke again. “I am optimistic that we will get out of here, but while it still looks like we are facing inevitable doom, can I say something?” He wished that he could read her face, but he remained incapable of doing so whilst strapped to the fallen chair. His hands laid in tight correspondence with one another, although the wraps that held them together with his legs were a sub-concern in comparison to the hurt he felt in his face. His hair had dried significantly since it had stuck to the back of his neck with sweat in the room that he was beaten. It had still managed to frame his face without flaw, although a tad messier than before; it worked for him. Not even a severe assault hindered his hairstyle. He laid stiffly on the floor, still forced into sitting posture from the chair he was tied to. With his head against the floor, his side profile emulated an artistically tragic painting, one that used watercolors to detail the bruises and blood.
Y/n, with her back to him, felt the slight shift in conversational atmosphere with her entire body. “Sure,” she didn’t leave him in much anticipation. An aimless memory had risen to the top of Steve’s consciousness, like bubbles appearing at the surface of a boiling water pot. “Do you remember when you helped me pass senior year English?” Truly a bizarre event to summon to mind when faced with death. Nonetheless, she did remember this. She remembered in great detail. While many found their newly developed friendship a curious occurrence, their personal progression from demodog mercenaries to honest friends was a comfort to both participants. “Yeah,” she reassured him, prompting him to continue. “I would come home actually excited to study, because with you it was fun. I mean, we became friends because all of the end-of-world demodog bullshit, but it was nice to do something normal with you. And you know we’ve hung out a lot since then, and now we are back to our more life-threatening pastimes, but I guess I just wanted to tell you how much fun I had while it lasted,” he said, his voice honeyed. “I know I am totally throwing a wrench in my optimism facade but I had to say it because to be honest, I am not completely sure Dustin isn’t utterly lost in the vents right now,” Steve finished, returning to a more light-hearted way of talking.  
This monologue flared a laugh from Y/n, and one that actually wasn’t tinctured with delusion. “Thanks, Steve. Me too. I agree, it was fun while it lasted. It is weird that it took the end of the world to bring us together.” Another chuckle left her and spread to Steve as well. “Is that pitiful or just fate?” she posed a question. “I’m just going to call it fate,” he said, his voice airy and amused. Perhaps it was fate, or perhaps karma was instead more suiting a word. If they were in all actuality saving the world, maybe becoming close with one another was their compensation. To draw a line between inevitable outcome and simple cause and effect seemed unnecessary, though. “If it is at all a comfort, I have a little more faith in Dustin’s navigation skills than you,” she added, her tone conciliatory. 
Their wild cachinnation grew, but was cut short when the Russian men returned to the room. The two were pulled from the ground just as harshly as they had been thrown down. It was then that a syringe was presented to the two of them. The needle sticking out of the top end took the hostages right back down to reality; pulled them from their previous conversation that had acted as a rather effective distraction. It was that needle that put a new, sick thought in Y/n’s head: was it good karma they had acquired, or bad? Maybe they saved Hawkins, or maybe they messed with an entity they were to leave alone. Perhaps their relationship was a reward, or perhaps it was a punishment, for it would end cruelty in torment and death in this small doctor’s office of a room.
320 notes · View notes