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wildestdreamsblog · 4 months

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Might as well be drunk in love: 1 of 2

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: This idea came to me when I went to the mountain and saw a love potion wine thingy being sold there. I think it's just the name of the wine, anyway! I really, really tried so hard to finish this in one post but it's already almost 8kish and we aren't even near the end sksks Happy New Year, my loves! I hope you'll like my gift for you <3

“Am I that hopeless?”

“What?” your friend asked in faux innocence, blinking her eyes owlishly at you. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, sweetie-“

You glared at her as you pointed in an exaggerated manner at the expensive pink tumbler she handed you mere seconds ago. The tumbler was too fancy, something that you wouldn’t buy for yourself and something that a certain handsome but infuriating CEO of yours was fond of carrying around.

However, what was insulting was the content of the said tumbler.

“I just gifted you that because you mentioned that it was beautiful-“

“Do you really think I’d end up alone?!”

“I don’t understand-“

“You literally just said that you put the love potion you bought in the mountains here!” you hissed lowly, keeping your eyes around the conference room as your department waited for the seven CEOs to arrive. You attempted to smile which more or less came out as a grimace at one of your colleagues who looked at you weirdly because of your mini-outburst. You weren’t exactly meek in nature, nor were you shy. However, you weren’t really keen on letting anyone overhear that your close friend bought you a love potion just because she thought you would end up alone.

That was embarrassing, even for you. So nope, you would for sure keep this under wraps.

Her brows furrowed harmlessly, although you could see a hint of smile on her lips, “You’re welcome?”

“I’m not thanking you-“

Just then, all the seven CEOs walked in the conference room, their presence commanding and silence reigned through the whole room. The first to enter was Min Yoongi. He was strolling in the room with his hands in his pocket. He was said to be the ace of the group who could smell bullshit despite it being miles away. He honestly looked like he would rather be anywhere else than here right now, though. It was the complete opposite of Jung Hoseok, also known as the sunshine of the group. He was smiling widely as he greeted the department and some employees by their names, yet you weren’t fooled by his beautiful smile. He was the strictest of them all. He was perfectionist down to the core and he was the last to forgive any mistake. The last of the hyung line to enter was the Kim Seokjin, the most beautiful man you have ever seen. It was like the room literally lightened up when he stepped in, like the birds sang melodically the moment he opened his eyes. His tall form and his movement were precise as he confidently sauntered to his seat which just so happened to be beside yours. He placed his pink tumbler on the table, so eerily similar to yours sans the engraved of his name on his tumbler. The beautiful asshole didn’t even spare you a glance. Your back unconsciously straightened when the lead CEO, Kim Namjoon, locked eyes with you for a moment when he entered the room. He was said to be one of the most intelligent man in the whole country. You didn’t even doubt it one bit. He was capable, and his leadership was on another level. Should he decide to run for a political seat, you would undoubtedly vote for him. He had what it took, you thought. He was charismatic, calm and he knew when to listen.

The CEOs were dubbed by the employees to be divided by two: the Maknae and the Hyung line.

Finally, the maknae line entered. The three of them could always be found together. Park Jimin, the eldest of the line, who had one of the most beautiful smiles you ever saw. In fact, you once overheard your colleague that he interacted with her once and it left her thinking of what they really were. He was followed by Kim Taehyung and also labelled as his soulmate. He was expressionless as he entered, only cracking a smile when he turned to Jimin. You always thought that he could be a model or an actor if he wanted to. He definitely had the looks for it. Last to enter was the muscular Jeon Jungkook, also known as the golden maknae of the group. There were no contracts, mergers or acquisitions that he couldn’t convince the other party of signing. Not only was he capable of everything, but he excelled in everything. Thus, his nickname. However, despite the way he held himself during the negotiations, you observed him to be shy and highly reserved. All of a sudden, he looked up from his seat as though he could feel your eyes on him, his doe eyes curious as he took you in. He held your eyes for a moment until he blinked owlishly and looked down at his hands in curiosity.

Kim Namjoon sat in the middle, the others sitting beside him as they regarded the room with a powerful look.

“Shall we begin?” Kim Seokjin asked, his eyes focused on the slides reflecting in the projector.

Several headaches, passive aggressiveness from Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin, disappointed sighs from Jin and Yoongi, difficult revisions ‘suggested’ by Taehyung, and corrections of miniscule errors of calculations by Jungkook later, the meeting finally ended.

You were weary as you trudged out of the conference room the CEOs were still in. They dismissed the department, expecting revisions within the day after tomorrow before discussing among themselves. It was honestly not a lot of time and you could already feel the lack of sleep you and the department would further experience under their tyranny. You willed yourself not to fall asleep as you walked to your desk, your close friend who was equally tired as you sat down on her seat beside your desk.

“I’m so tired. It’s like my soul and all the happiness I was able to experience in my young life were sucked out of me,” she lamented, her head resting on her desk. “If only the pay isn’t so greaaaat. ”

You nodded at what she said, already likening the CEOs to dementors in Harry Potter. Interacting with them made you aged several years. Additionally, meetings with them made you reconsider whether you needed a roof over your head, whether you needed to eat at least twice a day, whether you needed to drink clean water-

Speaking of…this wasn’t your tumbler.

The horrifying realization made you stood up abruptly. You lifted the pink tumbler to your widening eyes, and by that name there was no denying that this wasn’t yours. Your sudden movement awoke your friend from her own misery, yet you didn’t have the time to explain. Without any further thought, you ran back to the conference room, screaming and crying about how you were definitely going to get fired.

Of course, the elevator was under maintenance.

Of course, you had to run numerous flights of stairs.

Of course, it was just your luck that you ran into your manager just when you reached their floor.

And of course, the moment you opened the door, there they were, innocently drinking from a glass, the tumbler emptied as it sat in the middle of the table.

“Don’t drink that!”

Taehyung was the first to turn to you, his dark expressionless eyes meeting yours with intense stubbornness. He kept his eyes on yours as gulped the contents wholeheartedly.

Oh heavens, no.

He put the glass down with a resounding thud which felt like a nail to your coffin. You turned to look at the other CEOs with shaky eyes and it was apparent that they definitely drank their fair share of whatever was in the tumbler. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure if it was really safe for consumption. You were going to kill your friend for her prank!

Their eyes were focused on you. You couldn’t even blame them. You shouted at them all while looking like a lunatic with your disheveled hair and huffing breaths like you did a marathon. Oh wait, yes you probably did by the amount of running you did today. They were probably thinking that you were mentally unfit for this job and oh my God you were going to lose your job.

“May we help you, Ms. Y/N?” Hoseok asked you politely, his eyes never wavering from yours which was…unusual. Despite him being the image of kindness and approachability, he never looked at his employees for longer than necessary. He was a man that possessed such discipline when it came to his time. This… was absolutely an unnecessary length of time for eye contact.

“T-that’s my drink,” you finally said after tearing your eyes from Hoseok’s. You pointedly looked at the empty pink tumbler, not minding the intense look Namjoon was giving you.

“We apologize, little one,” Namjoon broke the silence, his deep voice awakening you from your stupor. “Yours looked like hyung’s.”

Little one???

Jimin smirked before running his hand through his blonde locks. His eyes were on yours as he looked up at you. “Yours undeniably taste better, though.”

Before you could even blink, Yoongi pointed at you with a rare smile on his lips. “You looked thirsty. Would you like to go to my office and drink with me?”

Was that…an invitation?!

You felt a hand tugged your sleeve. You turned, only to find beautiful doe eyes looking up at you from his seated form. “Hi! What year were you born?”

“199x-,“ you answered absentmindedly, you eyes roaming around the room when he tugged your sleeve again for your attention.

“You’re older than me!” he gasped; his excitement palpable as he stood up. He towered over you, his grin pleasant and you thought at that moment that he looked a lot like a bunny, or a kangaroo with the way his chest muscles were bulging over his office clothes. “Then you’re my noona! I can call you ‘noona’, right? Come on, take a seat here!”

He pulled the chair closer and tapped on it eagerly.

This was wrong, you thought. Was that thing really effective?! You dreaded to think that it was and you had a certain someone to torture once you get out of this room.

You were shaking your head before he could even pull you and you watched as his expression fell. Suddenly, he looked like a child that lost his toy with the way he was pouting. And nope, you couldn’t deal with that today. You looked at the man who hadn’t spoken one bit before smiling sheepishly at him. You placed his pink tumbler in front of him.

“I apologize. I must have switched yours with mine-“

His jaw tightened as he leaned in. Heavens, he was even more handsome this close. Kim Seokjin looked up at you with his ethereal eyes before resting his chin on his hand. “I’ve been drinking yours since the meeting, my love. It’s absolutely not your fault. Mine was coffee. This-“ he lifted the empty tumbler, “-is, I presume, a juice.”

Confusion further painted on your face, “You knew? Then why did you keep on drinking-“

He shrugged his broad shoulders, “It’s…addicting.”

“O-okay, then I’ll just leave yours here-“

“Tell me, my love. Do you like your job?”

Welp, here it was. You were so going to get fired. Oh my God, how were you going to feed your cat? He had such an expensive taste!

“I-“

“Because there’s an opening in my office. Would you like to be my secretary-“

“But hyung, you already have one-“

“Shut up, Taehyung,” he hissed at the now pouting man before turning to smile at you as though he didn’t berate his co-CEO in front of you. Chaos ensued as the boys fought and bickered for who would be your direct boss as you inched closer to the door.

“I’m just gonna go,” you whispered and before you could even reach the door, Taehyung looked up at you with his sharp eyes.

“Where are you going!”

“I-I have to finish the report this week, right?”

Namjoon stood up before declaring that he would finish it for you. And when you shook your head, “I am officially moving the deadline to next month! No need to stress, my little love!”

You blinked owlishly before doing what was best for you and your sanity- you ran away.

“So, they drank it?”

“Are you even listening to me?!” you shrieked over the phone, walking back in forth in front of your cat that was now looking at you as though he wanted to be adopted by a sane person and not you. “I just told you. They all drank it. All seven of them!”

You could hear the laughter in her voice which was not helping your panic, “I thought you didn’t believe love potions?”

“I-I didn’t! You didn’t see how they were acting! It was so peculiar!”

“Well, honey, how did they act?”

“Kindly! And it’s so weird!”

She paused, her silence making your heart beat faster. “Holy shit. It’s definitely effective. I need to go back there and buy another one for myself-“

“Focus! Is there an antidote or anything?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask my grandmother that lives there. I’ll let you know, but for the meantime, hold on very tight, okay?”

“What do you mean?!”

“Uhm. She said it’s very potent? I thought she was kidding. We’ll observe them tomorrow, okay? I’ll fix this.“

You were only able to sleep for two hours last night for two reasons: your work that you accomplished at eleven in the evening, leaving you six ample hours to sleep, and second, them.

Your phone didn’t stop ringing last night. You didn’t know how they obtained your number, and you dreaded to think that they used their position to direct the Human Resources department to give your personal number (yup, they definitely did).

You were about to fall asleep when your phone wouldn’t stop, and when you opened your eyes, you wished to all that was holy that you threw away the tumbler as soon as she handed it to you. Or that you didn’t choose the sit next to Seokjin.

You wished to God that your phone wasn’t blowing up now, but it certainly was.

Kookie: Hi, noona! Welcome to the Bangtan groupchat!

You squinted your eyes as the glaring screen illuminated with several messages from them.

Jwehope: Darling, are you a sprite? Because you've got the right amount of fizz to make my heart pop!

Jiminie: That’s so corny. I, for one, think that little one is a magician.

Jiminie: Because everytime I look at her, everyone just disappears.

V: Do you want to disappear, Jimin? Because I can arrange that.

Joonie: Ms. Y/N-shi, do you have a moment? I asked because I would like to discuss something.

At that, your trepidation grew. Among five, the lead CEO definitely held a serious tone. Did they find it as weird as you did that they were paying you attention? Did they trace it to that drink? Were you now in an even bigger mess than you initially thought?

You replied tensely: Yes, I am available, Kim Daepyonim.

WWH Jin: Why are you still awake? Beauty sleep is essential, my love!

Joonie: Great! I’d like to discuss the exponential growth of my feelings for you.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Suga: You’re all so hopeless. My Y/N would never fall for that.

Suga: On the other hand, would you like some Samsung stocks?

And that was why you never got to sleep peacefully last night. You sighed as you got on the bus. You opted to leave at an earlier hour because you wanted some time to think without the noise of the world and the buzzling movement of people commuting. You could feel a headache coming, but you prayed that it wouldn’t come through.

You should have known your prayers were seldom heard.

A vacant seat on the backside of the bus greeted you, and you were only too elated to finally sit throughout your commute. Peace, finally, you thought. You had barely settled in, barely breathed a sigh of relief when the once empty chair beside you was filled in by none other than him

“Fancy running to you here!” Taehyung noted in a deep voice as though this was not part of his plan, as though he didn’t wake up at a godforsaken hour just to ‘run’ to you.

You blinked, astonished by his presence. This was the last place you expected him to be. Hell, you didn’t even sure he ever experienced riding a bus! What the fuck was he doing here? Where was now your peace?!

“You-You’re here…” you trailed off, your eyes widening in shock as your brows furrowed in disbelief. You had foolishly thought that maybe, once they slept it off, then it would slowly be flushed out of their system. Oh, how wrong could you be. “Why?”

Taehyung smirked at you, his dark eyes taking you in. His dark hair was gelled up, his suit impeccable and without any crease in sight. He was somehow manspreading and you weren’t stoic enough not to notice the way his thick thigh was touching the side of yours. “I wanted to see you.”

“You’re so…honest.”

He didn’t even look embarrassed by his honesty. It didn’t displace him; what did was the annoying pain in his heart as the hours passed by and you weren’t in his arms nor his sight. He hated it. It felt wrong!

The other boys weren’t fairing any better but oh well, to each of his own. He may or may have also drained their cars of gas so they couldn’t leave. He thought that no one needed you as much as he did.

“I surmised that you wouldn’t believe if I say I frequent this path just for the hell of it, correct?”

You nodded dumbfoundedly as speech eluded you. His candor was definitely out of this world, and he seemed to not care as he only stared right at you.

“Now,” he whispered before tucking your hair behind your ear. “Now I feel at peace. The annoying pain finally stops.”

What pain?!

Before you could even ask him to elaborate, his head leaned on your shoulder.

“Daepyonim Kim-“

“Just stay like this for a while. I didn’t get to sleep, my love,” he answered in his hoarse voice, his eyes already closed as he dozed off. You didn’t know why you let him. It absolutely was not due to the fact that you felt your heart skipped a beat when he laid his head on your shoulder. Nope.

You managed to run away from Taehyung once the two of you arrived at the company, simply by practicing your non-existent ninja moves and awkwardly slipping out of the elevator just as the doors closed, his face an image of betrayal and panic. You breathed a sigh of relief before running out of the building. You still had an hour before you were needed, you for sure wouldn’t spend it inside that establishment or you would end up crying.

You were focused on your phone as you read real life stories of love potions. The sharing of stories kept on increasingly became more serious and scarier. You had yet to find a post about antidote. You weren’t 100% set on it being real, but the way Taehyung acted today was not right.

For heaven’s sake, the man barely said any word to you for the whole year you worked in their company. He had only looked at you before, and now he was outright going to you. But maybe, the other CEOs weren’t affected?

It was a hopeful thought, and you felt yourself smile a little- which of course vanished just as quickly when you looked up from your seat in the coffee shop to see Park Jimin sitting in front of you. You didn’t even know how he moved so smoothly and quietly. He was smiling at you, his head tilted to the side. His blonde hair stood out as the sunlight hit his hair perfectly.

“Good morning, beautiful!”

“Daepyonim Park,” you gasped both at shock and well, his beauty. His smile turned wider before he tried to hide it as he sipped from his coffee cup.

“Just Jimin, little one. I presume Taehyung- the bastard who will soon be six feet underground for what he did, by the way- already went to see you?”

You nodded, “He did…”

He scrunched his nose before resting his chin on his hand as he leaned into you. His pouty lips were protruding even more as he looked over his long lashes to you. My God, this man was so charming and his movements seemed so sensual. You didn’t know what it was about him, but you finally, finally understood your coworker who had a major crush on him for years based on one interaction.

“He’s so bad, my love. Did he tell you that he drained all our cars’ gas tank at two in the morning?” he asked in a conversational manner as though it didn’t faze him. His other hand reached to yours, slowly entangling them together and giggling a little at the slight size difference. He found them perfect and cute.

God, you were so endearing, he thought to himself.

“He did what?!”

He nodded slightly, holding your hand up to inspect further before quietly taking a picture of your clasped hands. You were so out of it that you just let it be.

“What Taehyung failed to account for was the existence of taxis. He only managed to anger six men, so good luck to him today. But enough about him,” he stated before looking into your eyes. Being the sole focus of Jimin was just too much, you thought. He was bigger than life, and his inherent appeal was palpable that even girls around the coffee shop kept on stealing glances on him. “I miss you so much today that my heart and head hurt so much, yeobo. I thought that I was going to die if I don’t see you.”

Your brows furrowed in concern before pulling your hand from him and you could have sworn you heard him whimpered. You laid the back of your hand on his forehead, trying to see whether he had fever today. He felt fine, you concluded, as you looked closer to see if he looked sick.

Maybe the ‘love potion’ caused these symptoms? Taehyung did mention experiencing pain.

You managed to escape from Park Jimin when he insisted on buying you pastries, and you in turn ran to the exit like your life depended on it. And perhaps, it did because you were running late. You only had fifteen minutes and the coffee shop you went to was not fifteen-minute away from the office. You were running like a lunatic, waving at the taxi that finally took pity on you. You were about to open the door when a large and tattooed hand slammed it shut.

You looked up in anger, ready to berate the man who did such a rude gesture when you recognized who it was.

Right then and there, and despite it being barely eight in the morning, you already met the entirety of maknae line. Jeon Jungkook looked like a badass with his all-black getup, his hands wrapped in motorcycle gloves, and his hair carelessly falling around his face. Despite all that, he looked innocent with the way he grinned at you, his nose all scrunched up when he greeted you.

“I’ll give you a ride, noona. Come on,” he stated as he gestured at the black motorcycle haphazardly parked on the side. You had never ridden one, and you didn’t want to start now. On the other hand, the taxi was already driving away and you could only look at it with longing.

You decided that you could afford being late just this once instead of riding with him. You were shaking your head.

“But you’re going to be late. I’m going there, too, so it’s no bother if that’s what you’re thinking-“

“No it’s just… I like to walk during the mornings…really.”

He frowned at you as he removed his gloves, “Didn’t you read the memo about tardiness, Y/N?”

“What memo?”

He was typing rapidly on his phone, “About how there would be 50% deduction of the salary should there be any tardiness this month…didn’t you know?” he asked innocently as he finished typing, his doe eyes trained on yours. Coincidentally, the moment he pocketed his phone was the moment your phone dinged.

“I don’t think that’s legal, though. I haven’t received the memo-“

You looked down at your phone, and there it was, an email about that. How could it only reach you now?!

You looked up in panic, and he looked at you with a hint of satisfaction before covering it with an innocent smile. “Shall we? I promise I don’t bite.” Yet.

He drove like a lunatic and you thought that you would really rather be late than experience a thrill such as this. Of course, it was only natural that you didn’t want to put your arms around him. You technically didn’t know him at a personal level and Jungkook did know that.

So, of course, like the intelligent man that he was, he only did the thing that made sense. He sped up, and he chuckled as your adorable screams reached his ears. Your equally lovely arms were now wrapped around him as they should always be and for once since yesterday, the ache in his heart eased. He felt at peace.

He giggled when you finally realized that this was not the path to the office, but in his mind, his other hyungs already got to spend time with you. Shouldn’t he too?

Jungkook helped you get off his bike, his eyes closely watching your expressions as you took the scenery around you. It was quiet despite the busy world below. The overlooking garden he brought you to was enchanting and it remained untouched by the quick-pacing world below. Jungkook couldn’t help but mirror your smile.

“It’s even more beautiful at night, noona. I come here when things get quite overwhelming.”

You turned to him as the two of you sat down. He had laid his leather jacket for you to sat on, a true gentleman you would think if only you weren’t aware that he drank the potion. “The golden maknae gets overwhelmed, too?”

He scrunched his nose at you before softly pinching your nose, “Of course, I do. I’m only human. I was trained when I was only thirteen…it gets too much sometimes. But it’s okay. I like it, and I like the hyungs, too. That’s why I cannot get mad at Tae.”

“He didn’t just empty the gas tank, but he also hid the keys. For added measure, he deflated my tire. He only did that to me. Should I be mad, little one?” he asked with the perpetual charming and shy smile on his face. “Ahh, but I cannot stay mad at him. I do understand him.”

“You do?”

He nodded eagerly, “I would have done the same thing if only he didn’t do it first. You do make us crazy, little one. Why is that?”

It was an eventful morning, and you weren’t foolish enough to think that the rest of your day would be any different. You friend was still yet to be found as she was preoccupied with researching for further information about that potion, which she should have done before giving it to you!

You sighed for the million time as you stared at your food. You were sitting alone in the company’s cafeteria as you were eating your late lunch. The workload was just too much today despite Kim Namjoon’s departmentwide directive that the revision would be presented the following month. Your superiors did find it peculiar and thought that the head CEO was simply playing with them and that he would cruelly demand the output the next day. See, even his reputation preceded him, you thought. It wasn’t in his nature to be lenient when it came to deadlines.

The sudden gentle thud of food a lunch box made you jumped from your seat, your eyes widening as you saw that it was none other than the eldest of the CEOs, Kim Seokjin. Disbelief held you captive. It was an unexpected sight – the CEO, whose tailored suits and polished demeanor spoke of boardroom authority, now standing before you with a container of something that smelled absolutely delicious.

He smiled at you as he took the empty seat in front of you. He busied himself with laying and opening the numerous food containers in front of you. Your eyes widened at all the homecooked meals in front of you.

“I got up at four in the morning to prepare all these. I still don’t know what your favorites are, but we’ll figure it out as we go, right?” he asked, busying himself with putting food on your plate. “Always eat on time, little one. It’s bad to skip meals.”

“W-why did you cook all these?”

He blinked owlishly at your question; surprise written on his face. “Well, my love, I couldn’t sleep and I felt this stabbing pain by the mere thought that you weren’t eating enough.”

“You don’t have to do that-“

“So from now on, I decided that I’ll always cook for you,” he declared strongly before lifting his chopsticks with vegetables to your mouth. Suddenly, you felt eyes on you.

How could you forget that you were in the company?! Your head turned, looking at the employees who were all watching your interaction with the unobtainable CEO. They were whispering and you knew by the end of the hour, everyone in the company would know of this. How could you live once they had the antidote? You could already hear the rumors about how you were just for their entertainment once they tossed you aside.

You were about to stand up when Seokjin gently gripped your chin. He turned you to him, his beautiful eyes willing you to listen to him. “Don’t mind them, little love. Pay attention to me only. Nothing and no one matter outside us, okay?”

It wasn’t okay because none of this was real. On the other hand, the meal tasted heavenly…

---

If they weren’t going to get sick, you definitely would. You felt like you would collapse any moment.

The amount of stress was taking a toll on you. You felt like you needed to be on your guard, lest another CEO would ambush you. You were just human! And they all looked like they stepped out of a photoshoot, or that they were ethereal beings that decided to go down on the mortal realms. The way they were showering you with attention and declaring their attraction to you and the way they said that not being with you felt like a stabbing pain in their hearts were all getting to you, damn it!

You were just a girl.

And once this all ended, you were dreading to think of what would be left of you now that you saw them on a closer and more personal level. You wanted to think that this couldn’t get any worse, but it did as you read the most elusive of the CEOs’ email to you.

Hi, my little one,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to request your presence at a meeting in my office to discuss my growing feelings for you today at 2:00 pm. Your insights and expertise on this matter would be highly valuable to the discussion, and I believe your input will contribute significantly to our objectives of being together forever and ever.

Thank you in advance for your cooperation, and I look forward to our discussion.

Best regards,

CEO Min Yoongi

He had this faraway look on his face when you were led by his secretary in his office. His hands were in his pocket as he looked at the bustling city from his floor to ceiling window. His black long hair was sleeked back, revealing his stoic face. The dark suit he was wearing did nothing but compliment his form. You had never noticed how broad his shoulders were until now.

He looked like he was not paying attention, yet he turned around the moment that the door closed behind you. Min Yoongi looked at you for a moment too long that you started to shift uncomfortably. His attention was just too much, and you couldn’t act like you were no longer affected by any of it.

And from the looks of it, the moment you blushed was the exact moment his face softened. He gestured for you to take the seat in front of his desk. He mirrored your movement, now sitting on his expensive swivel chair. He clasped his hands and rested them on the mahogany table.

“Daepyonim Min-“

He held his finger up, asking for your silence before spilling what you thought to be both outrageous and the most beautiful and heartfelt thing anyone had ever said to you in this life. “You’re beautiful, and not just in the way that you look. No. You’re beautiful in the way that the sun finally shines after a month of storms; you’re beautiful in the way that the waves keep on going back to the shore even after they were pushed away in the desire to kiss the sand; you’re beautiful in the way that flowers bloom after the unforgiving winter coldness. And that is why I’m giving you Samsung stocks.”

Confusion settled over you like a fog. You had almost melted from what felt like a poetry when he once again brought up his stocks idea from last night.

“I-I really don’t need Samsung stocks, Daepyonim Min…”

He looked aghast at your statement, before reaching over the table and holding your hand in his particularly large ones. “Call me Yoongi, my love. Or better yet, call me your other half,” he implored you and he only let go when you nodded in confusion.

“Also, nonsense! Everyone needs that stock, little one. Besides, nothing speaks more about my love for you than giving you all my Samsung stocks. And above and beyond, it filled me with this immense pain knowing that you’re just out there not owning any of their stocks. I couldn’t breathe with the mere thought of you going without.”

“Excuse me?”

And with a stoic face, he said, “Congratulations, little one. You’re now a millionaire."

At six in the evening, the head CEO finally made an appearance. You did find it peculiar that you had a fairly quiet afternoon after meeting with Yoongi. Your brows were pinched together as you were lost in thought when the elevator opened, revealing the head CEO. He had yet to notice you, his large and imposing form leaning against the side of the elevator. His eyes were close. You noticed that his white sleeves were already folded, his tie already loosened as his black suit laid on his thick forearms.

Kim Namjoon was the image of weariness, and you thought he looked quite pale. Your growing concern for him was what made you stepped inside the lift rather than running away yet again. The sound of your heels as you stepped in was the only sound in the elevator. You pressed for the ground floor and you saw that the floor for basement three was already pressed. Perhaps, the head CEO was going home now. Now that you were standing almost next to him, you only further affirmed how small you were next to him. He was already larger than life, and the way he always held himself exuded confidence made him more striking…and manly in your eyes.

The ride was fairly quiet, and through it all, he had his eyes closed. You kept on stealing glances, thinking that maybe among the other CEOs, he took in the least amount of potion. You felt lighter with that thought. At least you only had five men you needed to find the antidote for. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen the sunshine of the group, Jung Hoseok yet.

The elevator dinged, signifying your floor. You had taken merely a step when you felt a large hand completely encircling your wrist, effectively stopping you from leaving. You automatically turned, startled to find him with his eyes trained on you. He looked way too alert for someone who had his eyes closed for the past minute. You gasped when he pulled you closer to him as he pressed the close button.

“Daepyonim Kim,” you called him as you craned your neck to look at his draconic eyes.

“Leaving so soon?" he asked, his deep voice carrying a subtle mix of amusement and curiosity.

You hesitated, the words tumbling out of your mouth as he caught you off guard. “I... uh, yes. I was heading to the lobby. I’m about to leave for the night," you stammered, attempting to regain composure.

A playful smile curved his lips as he completely blocked the exit. leaned against the elevator frame, effectively blocking your exit, which sounded successful as the door closed. “I missed you,” he breathed as he took you in, his thumb gently running over the inside of your wrist as though touching you brought him immense comfort. “A lot. It was hell without seeing you the whole day.”

You blinked owlishly and you wanted nothing but to hide your face from the intensity of his gaze, but he wouldn’t let you. Instead, he smiled so gently at you, the dents on his cheeks making an appearance which made him more charismatic that you couldn’t say no when he told you that he would take you home.

But he didn’t exactly say which home because you ended up in what turned out to be the CEOs’ huge ass mansion. Your eyes roamed around the mansion, the high ceilings and the fancy marble flooring all screamed wealth that you didn’t even dare of dreaming to have. He confidently led you to what appeared to be a grand dining room. The room bathed in the soft, flickering glow of candlelight, casting a warm and intimate ambiance. The delicate flames danced gracefully, creating patterns of light and shadow that played across the table. The air carried the subtle fragrance of the candles, a mix of vanilla and subtle hints of lavender.

The dining table was adorned with crisp, white linen, and the flickering candles were nestled in elegant holders, their glow reflecting off polished silverware and crystal glasses. Each flame seemed to dance in harmony with the gentle melody playing in the background, creating a soothing symphony that enveloped the space.

He pulled a chair for you, and instead of sitting across from you, he sat beside you. He chuckled lowly when he caught your questioning eyes, “I have been apart from you for so long today, little one. I need this to feel alive.”

You straightened up in vigilance that the other CEOs would show up. “Are the others here, too?”

He looked at you like you said something funny. The chef he hired today gently laid all the dishes he made, explaining about each dish before wishing the two of you an enjoyable night. Namjoon told you that he wouldn’t feed you any of the food he made unless he enrolled himself in a culinary school first, hence the chef. He waited for the chef to leave before turning his full attention to you.

“I shipped them off to Antartica.”

“You what?!”

“I simply said we were flying to Japan for a quick meeting. They believed. I lied. End of. So anyway, how many children do you think we should have?”

My God, you wanted so bad to lay on your bed and sleep the whole night. You though about filing for sick leave tomorrow, you were long overdue for a leave, anyway. Kim Namjoon was kind enough to drop you off. However, it was only after you promised him that you would talk about possible schools for your future children that he let you go.

On the other hand, your friend finally called and you were sorely disappointed to know more about what she gathered today. Her grandmother had to ask the other folks that lived in the mountain about your situation and it somehow appalled you that you weren’t the first to experience this.

It was, at the same time, sad to see people resort to this from loneliness.

Was an artificial, forced love and companionship better than being alone?

There were both an instant and quite a long-term effect of the potion, she said. The instant was mostly upon ingesting the liquid. Once they locked eyes with the owner of the potion which so happened to be you since she technically gifted it to you, then the immense attraction would start. You thought that this explained why the seven of them all acted that way in the conference room.

The long-term effects were what caused you to groan all the way up to your apartment. And right then and there, you saw what the long-term effects were. As you trudged up to your apartment, you felt the exhaustion to your very bones. You were looking forward to a hot shower in an effort to wash away the problems that stemmed from a simple prank when you saw who was leaning against your front door.

The last of the CEO, Jung Hoseok, was leaning against the door, his head bowed down as he clutched his heart. He looked like he was in unfathomable pain, his lips almost the shade of white. And your friend’s words echoed in your mind.

‘Prolonged non-contact with the object of their desires will cause them to be physically ill.’

You hurried up to him, holding his shoulders as you looked at him. You were crouched down in front of him, peeking up at his pained face.

“S-sir, are you okay?”

His chest tightened, his face contorted, a mask of agony etched with lines of distress. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, evidence of the intense effort to draw in even the smallest amount of air. The hallway fell silent, save for the raspy, labored breaths that escaped him.

‘They may try to fight the unexplainable feelings they have, and this will only cause them harm. In fact, if they go without you for a long period of time, their body will suffer for a long time.’

“Hoseok? Can you hear me? I’ll call for help, okay?” you tried to make yourself sound calm for his sake, but seeing him struggling, desperate to gasp for air was making you panic. Your negligence did this, you thought. You should have made sure that you were holding the right tumbler that day.

You were about to turn to call for help when you felt a hand pulled you closer, and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. He was still breathing hard, but you noticed that the shallow breathings were farther and apart as though he could finally breath. The moment you touched him, the moment you looked into his eyes was the exact moment that a wave of relief swept over him as the oppressive grip on his chest began to loosen. The moment that you called his name was the moment that the torment that had shackled his every breath gradually lifted, replaced by the sweet release of a deep, calming respiration.

“Don’t leave me.”

‘However, every interaction with you would only make their attraction grow further.’

You placed a glass of water in front of the man who now looked perfectly fine as though he wasn’t fighting for his very life outside your apartment. He was offering you reassuring smiles as he gently watched you. He was surrounded by sacks of expensive cat food, toys, and vitamins. And of course, your cat was only too happy with them, evident by the excessive purring he was emitting as he climbed on the CEO’s lap.

“I did hear that you have an adorable son int the form of a cat,” he started as he petted your spoiled cat. “As his future daddy, I would like to provide for him as early as now.”

You didn’t pay attention to whatever he was saying, and instead, you sat next to him to see if he was really fine. The paleness was now exchanged by a healthy look on skin. It was as though that didn’t happen.

“Hoseok, listen…the reason that you are all acting this way to me, the girl you didn’t even notice before this, was because-“

“Because of that drink, right?” he interrupted you, wearing a soft smile that conveyed he harbored no anger.

“Y-you know…”

He nodded before tilting his head, “I do. It’s weird, as you said. The thing is, all of us suspects the same thing. You, little one, only confirmed it.”

“I didn’t mean for any of these to happen-“

The soft look he had was now dropped, revealing the strict CEO that everyone knew him to be. “Regardless, little one. You need to take responsibility over your actions.”

“H-how?”

“You’re going to live with us until all of this fades. You’re going to take responsibility over us, my love.”

Part 2

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officialspec · 2 months

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can you pleeeeease post your dm sexuality/gender hcs on here.... 🥺 i don't have a twitter but i wanna know. it's like a pandora's box to me now i'm like scratching at the door. let me in

heres the link 2 the thread (mild spoilers btw) ill post a transcript under the cut for ppl who dont have twitter

first off i think laios relationship to sex is super removed for like 50 reasons without even getting into his actual sexuality

he grew up in a place with very repressed ideas about sex and has a lot of fear about asserting his presence in situations

his special interest takes precedent over any social interactions he has and the level of closeness he feels towards people

he has a hard time figuring out his feelings towards other people both bc hes autistic and bc he has freaky deviantart fetishes that make sex in his mind a very abstract concept <- this one is me projecting mostly

that aside, i feel like gender-wise hes attracted to ppl so infrequently it may as well be entirely case-by-case

the idea of him being gay appeals to me from the 'raised with traditional values he Does Not fit into/hasnt begun to question it yet' perspective, i lauve characters who put a lot of stock into performing a role thats expected of them and fail miserably for unknown (gay) reasons

from his perspective tho i dont think he would ever really label himself anything. hes going to pride parades in the shirt+shorts Ally Fit to clap for his friends

hes also 'cis by indifference' imo... i love tmasc laios hcs it just doesnt mesh w his personal history to me. i do think hes got some kind of therian gender thing going on (not trans or nb but a secret third thing) but i cant see him changing anything abt his appearance/pronouns to accommodate that post-canon. hes just doin his thang

falin is in a similar boat for gender. i LOOVE tfem falin but the village repression thing has been bugging at me so i dont think i subscribe to it anymore (canon purist sorry) BUT if u hold that hc i am clapping and cheering regardless

instead i was propagandised to a while back and i LOVEEE the idea that being fused w a male dragon and the residual traits she has after being revived have given her a type of gender euphoria she didnt realise she was missing. a little boygirl swagger if u will

sexuality-wise i also dont think she would care to label herself, shes a lesbian by virtue of only being interested in One woman and zero other people. without marcille i do think shes still exclusively attracted to women, and i like to imagine she might experiment around a bit during her travels post-canon (pre-relationship). hearing abt it might put marcille on the news though

marcille is very simple That is a transfem lesbian. she cant get pregnant, shes obsessed w being femme and all that combined w her half-tallman struggles to be seen as 'properly feminine' by elf standards reads very transfeminine to Me. also her bookboy crush REEKS of comphet its not subtle

i think a more comfortable marcy might have the space to experiment w being elf butch like her manga boys but thats mainly self indulgence for me. utena could have saved her

senshi is gay his whole thing is abt not being able to perform dwarven masculinity to a proper standard (soft hearted, not as strong or rugged as his peers) which is like gaycoding 101. also hes a bear. homosexuality be damned by boy can work a grill

adding onto this i rly think senshi got some type of euphoria from being an elf in the changeling chapters. he was feeling himself so much i think he was using it as an outlet to have fun being a little fem and fruity without needing to justify it. do u understand

i dont have any particular opinions abt him gender-wise beyond that. his bulge is an essential part of his character design but i also saw a transmasc senshi a couple days ago that made me nod my head thoughtfully so i could go either way

chilchuck is cis and bisexual this is just canon. not even just his old man crush on senshi altho i do think thats very funny but they put his ass on a cover themed like hes in a dating sim with all the men and women in the cast and then slapped it in front of a chapter called "bicorn". i simply cant pass up that kind of overt signaling. its so fucking funny what else is there to say truly

izu to ME is a transmasc aroace lesbian (this one has the least basis in canon i just know it to be true) shes a little genderfluid with it nd uses he/she i think. i like to imagine she consistently uses masculine personal pronouns to refer to herself either way tho (boku, ore)

i think izutsumis gender/sexuality is entirely secondary in priorities to her body dysphoria. she has a lot of learning and acceptance 2 do before that kind of self discovery is on the docket and in my mind eschewing gender on some level is part of that. get sillay

shuro is cishet but at least he feels bad about it. next

kabru is a transmasc bisexual this is also practically text. his whole thing of being treated like a doll by milsiril to put in pretty dresses, plus i think it would be pretty easy for him to stealth in the west since tallmen are seen as inherently more masculine than elves

(i also think changing genders is just more common for elves. theyre androgynous enough that it wouldnt be hard and like who in their right miiiiind would be the same gender for 500 years. dwarves too)

i think he started presenting as male socially in the west but didnt need to consider medical transition until he moved to a more mixed culture where other races might see him as a woman

i dont have to explain the bisexual part. have u seen him

namari is a butch bisexual this is just canon straight up. shes not transmasc but i think the default settings for dwarven women is like 4 years of T regardless. shes a hit at all the local cruising spots despite her renfaire nerdisms i know this

and just bc im thinking abt em kiki and kaka are identical and kiki is tfem :} theyre both attracted to women but kaka is a sub so i forgive him

THATS ALL 4 NOW theres a lot of characters so i cant have thoughts abt all of them at once but i hope this was good. im right about everything forever as per usual

#ask #headcanons #passes out. my Mind #dunmesh

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withacapitalp · 1 year

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(Okay I saw a post about a premise similar to this but I cannot find it for the life of me. Anyway I loved it so much that I had to write a version of it myself. A post s2 AU!) Now with Part Two

Steve was never exactly the most perceptive person in the world.

He missed all of the signals that Nancy had given him, every sign that had pointed to their failing relationship. He hadn’t seen the moments that proved she was right about everything going on in their town either. Steve overlooked important details in his college applications, and took shots in basketball that almost always missed. He even sometimes walked right into walls these days, because his spacial awareness had kinda been shot since Billy smashed a plate over his head fifteen days ago.

A lot of that could be forgiven, but, this…

Well this was a little bit obtuse, even for him.

“You know you’re sitting at our table, right, King Steve?”

Steve looked up from his Tuna Surprise, resisting the urge to flinch at both the blinding light from the windows in the cafeteria and the nickname he hated so much. Eddie Munson stared back, carrying a lunch tray in one hand and his signature metal lunch box in the other.

“Your humble court is awaiting you on the haves side of this blessed cookery. This side is where the dweebs and the nerds parlay. A single place we get a reprieve from the endless bombardment of the average” Munson continued, flinging his arms to and fro, gesturing to the group of teens behind him who were staring at Steve like he was dirt under the bottom of their shoes.

He hadn’t understood the majority of what Eddie had just said to him, but those looks were enough to give Steve the gist. He was not welcome here.

“Sorry,” He muttered, grabbing his tray and sliding it to the other end of the table. He took a deep breath the second he was alone again, letting the tension melt away from his body as he collapsed back in his seat.

Even though he was no longer welcome to sit at his old table, Steve probably could have gone and eaten in the library with Nancy and Jonathan. They had awkwardly invited him to join them a few times since everything had gone down, but he always said no.

It was better this way. Better to be alone. Better to not have to watch the two of them try and hide how much happier they were now that they could be together. They deserved that happiness, Nancy deserved that happiness, and Steve refused to be the one to make her try and stifle any of that.

He had hurt her enough already.

“What happened to your face?”

Once again Eddie dragged Steve out of his thoughts. He was standing over Steve’s head, nearly hovering on top of him, watching Steve like he was trying to work him out. Like Steve was a particularly complex puzzle that he could solve just with his eyes.

Nancy had always looked at him that way. Steve had hated it when it was her, and he hated it even more coming from Munson now.

“Got into a fight,” Steve grunted, stabbing at his shitty cafeteria food and hoping that his abrasiveness would be enough to get Munson to leave him alone.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he could say now that they had all signed another round of NDAs, but he was pretty sure even talking about this was toeing the line. It was safer all around to get Eddie to go away as quickly as possible.

It wouldn’t be all that hard. Usually all it took were a few well placed bitchy comments to get people to see the picture and give up on him. The only group of people who hadn’t been perturbed by Steve’s spikiness was the kids. They had shown up at his house pretty much daily since the gate had closed, and had even taken to begging on him for rides to and from school.

Dustin in particular seemed determined to stay latched onto him like a barnacle, but Steve found that he didn’t really mind their clinginess.

It was nice to be needed, even if it was only a group of pre-teen smartasses.

“With who?” Eddie asked, leaning his hip on the table next to Steve and crossing his arms over his chest, “Cause Billy Hargrove is telling everyone he can that he beat your ass for messing with his sister,”

“I would never do something like that,” Steve shot back instantly, feeling the fading bruises on his face twinge as his jaw clenched in fury. He couldn’t help the words spilling out of his mouth, unable to stop them, “Billy’s a racist jackass who tried to put his hands on one of my fucking kids,”

Shit.

“There is…so many confusing parts of that sentence,” Eddie stated, blinking in shock.

“Whatever,” Steve murmured, biting his cheek to stop himself from saying anything more and hunching his shoulders up around his ears. They weren’t exactly his kids, per say, but Steve was invested in keeping them safe now. The idea of doing anything to hurt any of them was painful, and the thought of Billy spreading that kind of rumor made bile rise up in his throat.

Fuck Billy. Fuck this. Fuck his life honestly.

“Look, Munson, I’m really not in the mood right now,” Steve sighed, hating how weary he sounded. It would have been better to fight his way out of this. Steve was crappy at fighting though, and there wasn’t much spirit left in him. Not after two weeks of perpetual stress and tension.

“Harrington-”

“I moved down, I’m not in your way, isn’t that good enough?” Steve bit out, halfway to just grabbing his tray and throwing it in the trash. He was barely eating anyway, might as well go to the gym to shoot some hoops instead of sitting here being interrogated by drug dealing extraordinaire, Eddie goddamn Munson.

Couldn’t he just let Steve eat in peace? Everything else was already so goddamn difficult these days. Could Steve at least manage to eat a mediocre meal without the entire world demanding something from him?

By the grace of whatever god was potentially out there, Eddie took the hint, pushing off of his resting place and stalking back over to his group of weirdos on the other side. Steve let his eyes slip shut and dragged in a heavy breath, utterly exhausted.

He was contemplating skipping the rest of the day and going home to sleep when a blue plastic tray identical to the one in front of him bumped his right hand

“What are you doing?” Steve wondered aloud, raising his eyebrows and fixing Eddie with a confused look as he sat down right next to Steve and began to dig into his meal.

“Eating lunch alone sucks?” Eddie offered, shoveling Tuna Surprise into his mouth and shuddering, pushing the rest of the disgusting concoction to the far side of his tray, “Plus I’m hoping that if I get in your good graces you’ll give me your pudding cup,”

Steve stared at him for a few more moments, waiting for whatever prank was about to be pulled. But Eddie didn’t budge, continuing to eat around his main dish with strange efficiency and ignoring Steve’s gaze.

“Go nuts,” He finally said, offering the plastic container over to Eddie who grabbed it and gave Steve a big smile

“Mazel Tov, Eddie said, hoisting the pudding aloft and tearing into it, “So, you have children?”

“I- I babysit,” Steve stammered out, completely perplexed by the strange set of circumstances that was playing out in front of him. Eddie paused with his spoon midair in front of him.

“You babysit,” He repeated, turning his head towards Steve. The younger teen nodded and Eddie hummed. He put his pudding down and licked his spoon clean. When he was done, he hefted it aloft, bringing it down on the back of his right hand with a smack that echoed all around the cafeteria.

“Ouch!” Eddie yelped, flapping his hand around in the air to try and get rid of the sting. Steve looked frantically to and fro as the rest of the room stared at them, whispering behind their hands.

“Why would you-”

“Had to make sure I wasn’t dreaming,” Eddie explained, interrupting Steve’s furious whisper with a breathless little laugh, “Because I just heard the words ‘I babysit’ come out of King Steve’s mouth,”

“Would you cut it out with the King stuff?” Steve snapped, beginning to lose his appetite, “It’s been a while since I was King of anything, and it was a stupid fucking idea to begin with,”

There was a beat of awkward silence as Eddie gave him another one of those soul searching looks.

“What are you doing Thursday afternoon?” He finally asked when he found whatever he was looking to find. Steve startled, dropping his fork.

What kind of question was that?

Was Munson asking him on some sort of date?!

“I’m…benched from basketball ‘cause of my concussion. So nothing, I guess,” Steve said cautiously, carefully picking his words and trying to avoid the spike of hurt that shot along his chest as he said them.

It wasn’t much, but basketball was one of the only things Steve really thought he was genuinely good at. Not having it was kind of pure torture.

Almost as bad as not having Nancy in his life anymore.

“In that case, come to Hellfire,” Eddie offered, glancing at the clock on the wall and grabbing both of their trays. Steve scrambled to grab his backpack, hefting it onto one shoulder and jogging to keep up with Eddie.

“What?”

“Hellfire?” Eddie repeated, dumping their trash into the bin and stacking the trays next to it, “It’s the club I run,”

“What is it?” Steve asked, curious but unwilling to commit just yet. There was still a part of him that was kind of convinced all of this was some elaborate ruse to fuck with him.

But before Eddie could say anything the bell chimed all around them. The rest of the student population moved as one, and the sound in the lunchroom immediately went from dull roar to cacophonous mess. Steve’s left ear started to ring again, and he winced, shying away from the sudden noise.

“You’ll have to come and see,” Eddie said, waggling his eyebrows, completely ignorant to Steve’s pain. He turned on his heel, raising a hand in a wave behind him as he loped towards the rest of his friend group.

“Thursday after school! In the drama room, don’t be late!”

#Steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #Steddie au #Steve joins hellfire au #post s2 #st #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #Nancy wheeler #post stancy breakup #Liam speaks up #Writing(withacapitalW)

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patricia-taxxon · 8 months

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a long while ago, i saw a tik tok of two people jittering around to music with the text "tic/stim warning" showing at the top, i posted this out of context calling it a "real life rage spell" and some people were confused. well, beyond the fact that my disabled body language shouldn't come with a fucking content warning, i had a strong issue with tics and stims being mentioned as similar or even possibly as interchangeable, and i'll try and articulate that now.

Stimming is a semi voluntary behavior that everyone partakes in, but for autistic people it's mandatory. That's the only reason we claim it as an autistic thing, like everyone needs a bit of sensory regulation every once in a while but autistic people have far more reason to. For this to be placed alongside tourettes tics, a specific condition that causes strictly involuntary behaviors that only people with tourettes can truly relate to, it bastardizes both conditions. like... it trivializes tics into just a habit, and it pathologizes stims into something alien to neurotypicals. i hate what tik tok has done to disability/mental illness advocacy i really do.

#cilantromixture

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little-pondhead · 1 year

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Thinking about if Dani ever gets added to the Villain Everlasting Trio au, like how would she fit in? Obviously the JL would have to figure out she's a clone and try and figure out why she exists ("maybe fenton is just that narcissistic?" flash asks, meanwhile batman is already texts agent a to get ready another room in addition to the three already prepared). Maybe she acts like the innocent kid in danger until heroes get close? batfamily trying to pspspsps her away from fenton? The trio collectively calling her their daughter?

I love this au so much, even if I still don't fully forgive you for making Tucker hot.

The way I SPRINTED to my computer.

Disclaimer: This particular AU has nothing to do with Fun Sized and Feral by @nutcase8691 or my Dani Fenton redesign from a while ago. This isn’t really important, but I thought the plot of this au might be straying the tiniest bit too close to the Feral AU (which I love btw) and I just didn’t want to cause confusion.

TLDR: Dani had to mature too quickly in their home world, so when she arrived in the DC universe, she finally got to slow down and be a kid. :)

Okay okay. Give me a moment. Since everyone is acting like the opposite of their usual self when they're playing villains, your question was, how would she fit in? To backtrack to this earlier post, I said that each of the trio's specific gimmicks somehow ties into their everyday lives. They looked at their immediate friends, family and acquaintances, picked out the traits they saw as 'villainous,' and then applied that to themselves.

Danny became a mad scientist because even though his parents love him through and through, they still hurt him the most. The threat of capture and dissection from the GIW didn't help, either. He wears a suit similar to his parents, pushes his hair up so he can see better, and his white lab coat looks a little like the GIW's suits. The suit is also red, which is the opposite of green, distancing himself further from his hero life as Phantom and connecting him more to his civilian self, where red is present on his shirt. He refuses to use his powers, as well.

Sam looks like an angel, which seems odd given her completely goth look and slightly pessimistic attitude. And if she uses her plant powers (shut up, she totally has them) as part of Team Phantom, then that rules out using them as a villain. They want to completely separate these alter-egos from each other. Well, one of the most significant sources of strife in Sam's personal life is her parents. In the show, they're seen constantly fighting with Sam, trying to mold her into their perfect daughter, when Sam is very obviously happy with how she is right now. So as a silent fuck you to her parents, Sam gets a hold of a Realm artifact, the halo, which gives her a pair of ghostly wings and the ability of flight. Now, she's the one in the air, and Sam is still doing what she does best, even as an angel. She tries to show the world that not all angels are perfect, and in fact, they can be downright monstrous. (This is where her more aggressive and destructive attitude comes in.)

As far as I'm aware, Tucker doesn't have any trauma related to his parents. (The lucky bastard.) He is the tech-nerd stereotype, however. And since he's from a cartoon from 2004, that means he gets bullied. A lot. The show focuses mainly on Danny, but you cannot tell me Tucker wasn't bullied like that, either. For the sake of the au, let's say Danny was taking all the beatings for Tucker. Maybe he was in canon; I can't remember. But not only is Tucker being physically bullied but so is his best friend. (Eventually lover!) And imagine his feelings when Team Phantom shows up to a ghost fight, and Tucker is absolutely useless the entire time. He just can't help at all. Danny and Sam are on the front lines, redirecting hits and doing damage control, and here he is, waiting for the Wi-Fi to catch up on his PDA. It eats him up. He wants to be helpful in more ways than one, and that's what the DC universe gives him. He takes another Realm artifact; this time, it's actually his by birthright, and the artifact drastically increases his physical power, just like he's always wanted. He learns Egyptian magic and dresses in a way that gives homage to his time in Egypt-which was traumatizing by itself, but hey, he has sweet beetle magic now.

Basically, Fenton, Manson, and Foley are all the results of the trio's frustrations and fears. They become the things they stress about the most to help cope with their everyday lives. The DC universe is their outlet.

So where does Dani fit in?

Well, Dani is a clone, as we know. Her creation and introduction to the world were rather sudden if you compare her to a typical baby. And that's what she is; a baby. Unless you jumped the timeline far into the future, Dani is barely a year old in canon (I think.) And after her team-up with Danny to defeat Vlad, she makes the decision to leave Amity and travels the world. She has to navigate an entire world independently, even if Danny wants to help her. So now, plop her in the DC verse. What's the opposite of an independent clone who's had to fend for herself from a very young age and has had almost no real familial bonds?

A kid. A scared, touched-starved child who's had no one to look after her for who knows how long. (Vlad doesn't count here.) Dani gets to the DC verse and cries because she and Danny can finally bond like she always wanted to. She doesn't have to put up a strong front because the trio is there to protect her. Dani is extremely young, and now she can finally be a kid. It's not mental age regression; instead, Dani no longer has to hold herself back from doing childish things or crying. Both are things that could be a danger when you're living on the streets. She spends almost all her time here now.

The Everlasting Trio had already missed her before, but they had just fully adopted her in this new world. Dani is their baby. Their little girl. She didn't ask to be born-she shouldn't have to suffer because it was unsafe at home. Well, they can make a new one, just for her, here in this universe. And look! There’s more clones for her to bond with! The GZ is more accessible than ever, and their commute between universes really isn’t that bad. They like it here! And the heroes and villains will never take her away, no matter how hard they try. Sure, Dani can have playdates with some of them, but she will wail and scream if anyone so much as suggests she stay the night without her parent's permission.

Oh, and she never stops being a little shit. If anyone doubts that Fenton and Dani are related, they are simply ushered online to see that one viral clip of Dani latching on to King Shark with her teeth and not letting go in the middle of a shopping plaza. The camera pans to the left a moment later, and the audience spots Fenton doing the exact same thing to John Constantine.

The first time the Justice League meets Dani, it's right after she got lost during a spacewalk with Danny and Sam. She enters the first place she sees, the Watchtower, and breaks down in front of Wonder Woman about how she can't find her parents and doesn't know how to get home. The heroes are baffled and try to comfort her until Danny comes barging in five minutes later, panicking over his baby girl missing. They reunite, the heroes are reeling, and Superman mentions he didn't think Fenton was old enough to have a kid.

Fenton looks up from his bear hug and goes: "Huh? Oh, no. I'm only seventeen. (work with me here) Dani is technically my clone, but we adopted her properly as soon as possible."

And now the League has two issues. Their most annoying enemy is only seventeen. And he has a clone.

What the f u c k.

Extra analysis: Dani's outfit is cleaner and a little fancier than what she wore in the show. She ties her hair up like Tucker and pins her bangs back like Sam. She already looks identical to Danny but likes to wear his sweaters, especially in cold weather. The oversized clothes remind her of her time with Danny in Amity Park, and helps hide her physique better, so it's hard to tell how old she is. She wears leggings to show that she no longer has to fight for her life every day on the streets. Now that the trio adopted her, she can relax and let someone else take the hits for a while. (We all know how fast leggings and tights can be ruined when doing literally anything.) Fright Knight gifts her a cursed doll that helps protect her in stressful situations and functions like an SOS beacon. JLD hates the bear. (She named it Strawbeary.)

She acts on her impulses more often, which the trio sees as a good thing. Even if that impulsive desire gets her in trouble, it gives everyone a chance to learn and grow as a family. Dani also refrains from going ghost at first, following her dad's wishes. Right now, she's just giving herself a break from her previous nomadic lifestyle. After a bit, she and Danny will bond over their halfa status, and she'll grow into her own unique core and powerset. The heroes dread the day the littlest Fenton decides to join her parents in their shenanigans.

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vax-merstappen · 1 month

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friends? (ls18)

summary: you had fallen for your childhood friend lance. but when he shows up to his family's party with his girlfriend, you are forced to confront your feelings.

i apologize in advance if your name is bethany, just the name i picked. but i hope you enjoy my first lance fic!

no warnings that i can think of :)

Lance captivated any room he stepped into. All eyes turned to the billionaire’s son, the racecar driver, and the worldwide star. But even with her on his arm, his eyes turned to you, his best friend.

You had grown up together, both starting karting around a similar age. You had gone from competing against each other to cheering when the other did well in races. Then you were hanging out at each other's houses outside of racing, playing video games or running around outside. In your teenage years, you continued to be friends even as the racing got more and more competitive.

The years blurred by until you got to where you were today, Lance racing in Formula 1 and you in Formula 2. You got to see him less often now, mostly when the F2 schedule aligned with the F1 schedule. He was always busy training, and frankly so were you. Apart from the occasional chat, you were now living separate lives.

So it had surprised you when Lance had posted a few pictures to his Instagram with a woman. They were holding hands in one photo and he had his arm wrapped around her waist in another. You had stared back in disbelief. Of course he was an adult, he was allowed to date someone. It was just the fact that he hadn't told you that hurt. And maybe the fact that you had fallen for him years ago.

Yes, you were hopelessly in love with your best friend. Lance Stroll, the Formula 1 driver.

And it seemed he now loved someone else. When they had walked into the party that his family was hosting, everyone in the room had turned to look at the driver and his new girl. You couldn't blame them. He looked stunning in his tux. And she looked like a goddess in her flowing red dress.

In the crowd, his eyes found yours and you felt your breath stop. Those soft brown eyes that you had looked into for years. His face shifted to a grin and the couple made their way over to you.

"Hey, you," he said, pulling you into a friendly hug once he made his way through the group of people. "Long time no see."

"Yeah," you replied, your voice like a sigh.

"Oh, and this is Bethany," he said, introducing you to the woman he had arrived with. "We're dating."

You plastered a smile onto your face and shook Bethany's hand. "It's so nice to finally meet you," she had said. "Lance talks about you all the time."

He did? Even though you two had fallen almost out of touch? This caught you by surprise.

"All good things I hope," you had replied with a chuckle.

"Of course!" she had laughed, smiling at you.

You looked over at Lance and saw he was no longer looking at you, but at the ground. Almost as if he were embarrassed. You flashed her a smile again and looked over at Lance.

"Well I'll let you two enjoy the night," you said, trying to excuse yourself from the conversation. You turned to leave them alone, before you heard Lance stop you.

"No, why don't you come eat at our table?" he asked. You saw Bethany's smile falter a little bit. And as much as you didn't want to have to watch Lance with his girlfriend, you couldn't exactly turn down your best friend, could you?

"If that's okay with you," you responded, looking between the couple.

You found yourself sitting on Lance's right while Bethany was to his left. You all had engaged in a bit of conversation, Lance talking about how his season was going in Formula 1 and you talking about how Formula 2 was going well for you. Bethany seemed a little zoned out of the conversation, a lot of the intricacies of racing not familiar to her. Racing was something that would always tie you and Lance together, whether you liked it or not.

But as the conversation went on, you saw her reach for his hand and grab it. You didn't deserve to be mad, as you had never decided to voice your feelings in fear of ruining what you had. But watching that simple act of intimacy between the two broke you.

You had always enjoyed his family's parties in the past, but now? Now that you couldn't sneak out early with him to go drive around aimlessly and listen to music or that you couldn't bribe him to grab you an extra portion of dessert, things were different.

As you distracted yourself with a refill of your drink, you didn't notice how his eyes lingered a little too long on the back of your dress or how he released her hand after he saw the way you looked sad.

A few more awkward moments in conversation with the couple, you decided to make a break for it. Being questioned by Lawrence for leaving early would be better than any more moments watching your childhood best friend and crush being romantic with someone else.

"I- I'm sorry," you mumbled. "I have to go..."

"Are you okay?" Lance asked, looking concerned.

"It's fine..." you sighed, quickly getting up from the table. "Enjoy your night. You both deserve it."

Quickly making your way to the parking lot, you held back tears. Even though you had drifted apart, a small part of you had held onto hope that maybe he would feel the same. That he could love you back just as you had loved him for so long. But clearly that was an illusion.

You staggered through the door of the venue in your heels, kicking them off and picking them up before running into the parking lot. You didn't care if there was media watching, all you needed was to get away as fast as possible.

Finally getting to your car, you fished around in your purse for your keys. You mumbled a few curses, unable to find where they had gone. A few tears pricked your eyes, this was the last thing you needed right now. You leaned up against the car and slid to sit on the ground, shutting your eyes against the world.

"Hey," a familiar voice said. "Forgot your keys."

You peeked open your eyes to see Lance standing in front of you. He looked concerned upon seeing you in such a disheveled state.

"Are you okay?"

You barely nodded. "Not really... it's stupid..."

Lance sat down on the asphalt next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "You can talk to me. I know we haven't been as close lately, but I'm always willing to listen."

"I don't want to ruin things..."

"What could you possibly ruin? Look, I care about you. Just tell me what's going on."

Him saying he cared about you was all the motivation you needed. Maybe if you just got this over with, you could move on and things would go back to normal.

"Lance... I've always liked you... as more than a friend. And seeing you tonight... so happy with her... I guess it hurt."

The look on his face went from concerned to shocked and then to sad.

You cleared your throat. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to put you in this position. You and Bethany... you look good together. You deserve someone like her."

Lance was silent for a minute. "I... you never asked me how I felt?"

"I never thought you would feel the same. Didn't want to ruin our friendship.

"Well... for the record I did love you. I... still do."

Your heart skipped a beat at the answer. "You do?"

"Yeah. I do."

You both sat in silence for a minute. "What do you want to do about it?" you asked quietly.

"I broke it off with her," Lance said simply. "Before I came running after you."

"Why would you do that?" you asked, genuinely confused. "You seemed so in love with her."

He looked you in the eyes. "Because coming to this party made me realize. It brought back so many memories. All the years we goofed around in front of dad's rich friends. All the times we left early to go have fun just the two of us. And then I saw you in that dress... and the way you looked at me after all these years. And I realized what I had with her would never compare to the years I've had with you. Even if you had said no... I couldn't just let you leave like that. Thinking our relationship didn't mean anything. Even if we just ended up being friends tonight."

"Lance I..."

"You mean a lot to me, you know? Just took a year apart and a girl I didn't truly love to realize how much."

You took a chance and reached over to grab his hand, just like she had a few hours earlier.

"Wanna get out of here?" he asked. "Speed away like we did as teenagers?"

"Yeah. I'll drive and you get the music."

"Deal," he said, cracking one of his smiles that just made your heart melt. He tossed you the keys to your car that you had forgotten on the table. You caught them with ease and stepped into your car. You looked over at your best friend, and now possibly lover in the passenger's seat and your heart was full.

"Lance..."

"Yeah?"

"I've wanted this for a while. Just me and you again."

"Well if you want to... we can spend a lot more time now just the two of us. Now that we're both on the same page."

"I can't imagine anything better," you said with a smile. You shifted the car into drive and pressed down the gas pedal, speeding away into the night. And as your favorite song came on the radio, you knew your life was about to get so much better.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #lance stroll #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll x you #lance stroll x y/n #lance stroll fic #lance stroll fanfic #lance stroll imagine

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tmpestuous · 2 years

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Six Days

Summary: You make the effort to avoid Bucky during a mission after he upsets you in an argument, but things quickly take a turn for the worse.

Pairing: bucky x avenger!reader

Word count: 4k

Warnings: fluff, angst, slight mentions of torture/hydra experimentation, blood, canon level violence, hurt!reader, sad!bucky

a/n: welcome to my first (real) post! i haven’t written in a long time so my apologies if this is a bit rusty. this was inspired by an excerpt on a post i saw and decided to turn it into a prompt:

“He held her face in his hands.

‘Do you think I care about anything but you?’”

You were on edge.

This was the first mission in a long time where you hadn’t spent the night before with Bucky, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s arms, and waking up with another before heading off. Your regular routine almost happened. It would have happened if it hadn’t been for the argument that happened just about five minutes before you were ready for bed, an argument you deemed unnecessary and frustrating the second you stormed out of Bucky’s room and back into the one you barely spent any time in anymore.

Not having that routine definitely threw you off your game. After dealing with a restless night and a series of tosses and turns, you decided to just stay up until you had to leave.

Biggest mistake you could have ever made, you thought.

You packed everything you needed and, first thing in the morning, walked straight into the kitchen to fill up a thermos with a lot more coffee than you’d ever drink on a normal day before heading off to the quinjet launchpad without a word. Everyone else eyed you as you walked out; your usual, greeting nature was replaced by a silent one, a sight no one had seen since you first joined the Avengers. Once you exited, everyone’s eyes quickly turned to Bucky who had walked in just as silent. Though it was less rare for Bucky to avoid conversation, the two of you being separate was the clear elephant in the room.

Bucky looked up to meet everyone’s gazes on him, his brows furrowing immediately in annoyance.

“What’s the problem?”

“Something going on between you and Y/n?” Sam asked without hesitation. He beared witness to the entirety of your relationship with Bucky, especially since he was often assigned to missions with the both of you. If anyone could tell something was off, it’d be him.

“She’ll get over it,” Bucky replied monotonously before also heading out to the launchpad, everyone else straggling out shortly after.

You were already sitting in your normal seat inside of the quinjet, scrolling absentmindedly on your phone to distract yourself from the eyes that would eventually fall on you as you heard everyone else approaching.

Though you were still angry, Bucky was not. In fact, he was more angry with himself than he was with you. He didn’t even think he was upset with you at all, but he was convinced you thought otherwise.

Finishing a shower after an intense sparring session had never felt better to you.

You had been with the Avengers for about two years now, picking up on more useful ways to use your fighting abilities rather than always being so destructive. Old members of Hydra, who decided they wanted to somehow reinstate and resolidify the organization, had taken you–along with more people than you could count on both of your hands–to be experimented on with a serum similar to the ones used on Bucky and Steve. After managing to escape, you had definitely lost a piece of yourself. It took a while to warm up to the thought of fighting alongside such honorable people, but after two years, you had found your home.

The first year and a half was strictly training and shadowing anyone who had gone on a mission. You were eager to prove yourself as being part of the team, and in the last six months, Steve and Tony had agreed to allow you to not just shadow missions, but be part of them. You had just finished mission 26 as being “part of the team” two days ago, and Steve had stopped you before your workout with Natasha to let you know that he thinks you might be able to do your first solo mission.

That news definitely kicked your motivation into overdrive during sparring. Natasha’s never been one to go easy on you, per your own request, and was riding on a 10-0 streak against you.

That streak got broken fairly quicker than she had expected.

Upon finishing your workout, you were most excited to tell Bucky the news. He had been there the whole ride to see just how hard you’ve worked to get to where you are today, especially sharing the experience of being under Hydra and struggling to use your abilities for the right reasons.

But for some reason, things just didn’t go as you expected.

And it hurt. Really hurt.

Bucky stepped on the jet and gave you a quick glance. Everyone else had taken their usual seat, meaning the only one available was the one he always took right next to yours. He sighed deeply to himself before sitting down, seeing you immediately cross your arms across your chest from his peripheral vision.

This was definitely going to be a long trip.

You didn’t say a word to him the entire ride. Not even so much as a shoulder or thigh touch. You kept your stoic nature for all of the ten hours you were sat next to him.

Bucky was losing his patience, and the only person he blamed was himself. This might have been the first day in the year and some months that you’ve been together that you hadn’t said a single word to him, and it was eating him alive.

It was most definitely eating you alive too, but you couldn’t get the argument you two had out of your head.

Bucky was starting to pack his things when you had walked into his room, his attention quickly diverting to the door and onto you, shooting you a soft smile.

“You’re back already?” He asked, knowing you always took a hefty moment to yourself to relax after sparring with Natasha.

“You are now looking at the woman with a singular victory against Agent Natasha Romanoff,” you said confidently with a playful victory bow, making Bucky chuckle as he stood up and made his way over to you.

Standing up straight to look up at him, Bucky cupped your face in his hands and kissed your forehead. “I’m so very proud of you, baby,” he said with his lips grazing yours that had just pulled into a small smile.

“I also might have really good news,” you said in an eager tone, which Bucky noticed and loved immediately.

“What’s the good news?” He asked right away as he wrapped his arms around your waist, wanting to hear your excitement. After seeing you have so many losses, with yourself and others, he knew you took every win very seriously. You reminded him of himself when he first joined the Avengers as well, and knew just how difficult it was to adjust and get even just a glimpse of triumph.

“Steve pulled me aside today and said he thinks I might be ready for solo missions,” you responded as you wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck. “He saw how well I did during the last mission and wants to see how I do alone. He just wants Tony to agree first.”

Bucky’s face dropped slightly. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked rather than answering his question, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

Of course you thought you were ready. You had prepared long enough for this and knew you could take on the challenge. You also thought that Bucky of all people would be able to recognize that and agree.

“You’ve only been on 26 missions, honey,” he contested. “It took me a lot longer than that before I was even able to handle a mission with just Sam.”

“So you think that I can’t go on a mission by myself because it took you longer to adjust than it took for me?” you asked incredulously as you pulled out of Bucky’s grasp and took a few steps back.

Bucky ran his hands over his face in frustration. He knew just how stubborn you were; he had seen it mission after mission and debrief after debrief. You were never one to stand down from defending yourself and your decisions. However, you had never been so persistent with him over anything beyond a playful dispute between the both of you.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Y/n, so can we table this conversation and go to bed?” he bargained with you softly.

You scoffed. “You just patronized me by implying that I’m incapable of handling a mission on my own and you want me to ‘table the conversation’?”

Given your tenacious anger, you knew it’d be best to not say anything at all until you felt a lot calmer about the situation. You had surely pondered if you were just overreacting, but Bucky’s words still hurt you.

He was never one to patronize you or make you feel like you couldn’t do something. In fact, it had always been the opposite. To hear that he felt you were incapable of taking on something you felt you were ready for had stung you harder than any other accusation ever thrown at you. He was the man you loved, the one person on the team who you trusted the most, and he thought you were unprepared.

So you avoided him. The jet landed and you gathered your things and walked right past him. You got lucky that Clint couldn’t come on the mission anymore and you could take his room so you wouldn’t be stuck with Bucky for the entire week.

Bucky had felt like he was stabbing himself in the chest. He couldn’t sleep the entire night. This seemed to be a mission of firsts for the both of you, including the first time you were both on a mission and slept in different rooms since you’ve been together.

The next morning, Bucky felt he made it worse. He wandered over to your room before it was time to meet everyone else, knocking on the door loud enough for you to hear it but not make himself obvious in the hallway.

You opened the door, looking right at him though Bucky felt like you were looking through him.

“Can we talk?” he pleaded softly. “I know this isn’t the best timing—”

“Then maybe we should wait until we get back, don’t you think?” you interrupted, your voice a bit raspy from the lack of communication with anyone.

“I can’t think straight on a mission knowing that you’re upset with me, baby,” he said, a slight tremor in his voice. You knew he didn’t want to upset you, but you also didn’t want to direct your anger towards him. It was the one thing you had both promised to each other. “Please?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Bucky,” you replied sternly, your use of his name feeling like a knife through his back. “Can we just do this after?”

He nodded, not wanting to prod you any further than your limit. He whispered a soft “okay” before walking back to his room.

That was the last you spoke to each other before everything happened.

Your mission started off smoothly. You were paired up with Steve, who wanted to monitor you a bit closer while on a mission to further confirm his confidence in you. He also didn’t want to pair you with Bucky when you had tension with each other, wanting the mission to go successfully and without distractions.

You and Steve would take the fifth and sixth floor of the building to locate the files you needed to extract. Natasha would take the third and fourth floor, Bucky and Sam the first and second. Tony would be eyeing the outside perimeter for extra threats and also spotting Natasha a helpful eye, though everyone knew she could handle herself well.

After fighting off a few straggling guards, you found the file you needed. The only problem was the faint beep, beep, beep you heard somewhere in your vicinity. Steve was keeping watch outside, fighting off the backup that was eventually called when they realized you were here. You couldn’t locate where the sound was coming from, but you knew it wasn’t a good one.

“Hey, Steve, you busy?” you said, the hint of fear in your voice.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, hearing your tone. You could hear his shield bouncing off the walls as he responded.

“I’m hearing a beeping noise from in here and I can’t find it at all,” you said as you kept tearing the room apart carefully, not trying to accidentally trigger anything.

“What do you think it is, Agent?” he asked, and you knew he was trying to turn this into some sort of test like your life wasn’t probably at risk.

“The only possibility is an explosive of some sort,” you responded, trying to hide the irritation in your voice from still being monitored on a mission like a child. “I can’t really make out where it’s coming from and it’s nowhere that I’ve searched in the entire room, so it’s probably hidden somewhere.” The beeping then started at a quicker pace, only making your nerves go into overdrive.

“I’ll finish up out here and then help y—”

Boom.

“Rogers? Y/l/n?” Tony spoke anxiously into comms.

“What the hell was that, Tony?” Bucky asked immediately, not liking the tone in his voice while he said both yours and Steve’s names.

“Explosion on floor five. Rogers and Y/l/n aren’t responding.”

“Y/n? Steve?” Sam tried to reach out. Nothing.

“All I’m getting is static, guys,” Natasha chimed in. “I’m headed up.”

Bucky jolted into the staircase, running faster than he could even process. He eventually caught up with Natasha, Tony and Sam both flying in from either side of the building to the fifth floor. The entire floor was filled with smoke, though the hallway was a bit clearer than the room you had been in alone.

Natasha caught a glimpse of Steve, who was thankfully conscious, as he tried to lift himself up with a a cough to expel the smoke from his lungs. Tony helped him up and Steve immediately caught Bucky’s eyes, filled with anxiety he hadn’t seen in him in a while. He then looked at the door and Bucky understood that you were in there.

He knocked the door in with no hesitation, though something was blocking his entry. Steve and Tony made their way over to help him push the door, moving the cabinet that had been flung across the room with the impact of the explosion. Bucky slipped through the door, blue eyes scattering across the room until he saw your hand sticking out from behind some debris. Using his metal arm to lift up the equipment that had fallen on top of you, he moved it over to the side before kneeling in front of you. He noticed the large piece of shrapnel sticking into your abdomen, a fairly large blood stain tainting your suit and your breaths extremely shallow.

Your eyes were half open as they landed on him, though your body desperately wanted to fall out of consciousness.

“Hey, honey, I’m here,” he said as your eyes glossed over.

You felt too weak to talk, it hurt just to breathe with the impeding metal in your stomach. The one moment you wanted to say something to him and you couldn’t.

“I’m here, okay? We’re gonna get you out of here,” he said as his eyes stayed firmly on you, his ears tuning out Steve directing Sam, Tony, and Natasha to prepare for an emergency evac back home. “You’re gonna be okay, everything’s gonna be okay.”

Bucky cupped your face lightly, running his thumbs across your cheeks carefully over a few cuts. His face and tears streaming down his cheeks was the last thing you remembered seeing before the darkness reeled you in.

It had been six days.

Six days since you all successfully evacuated the mission. Six days since they removed the metal from your stomach safely. Six days since they found out the extent of your other injuries from the blow. Six days since you had been unconscious. Six days that Bucky hadn’t left your side for a second.

He had already regretted everything he said to you the night before your mission, but now he felt like he had made the biggest mistake of his life by even upsetting you. Bucky knew you probably wanted to cool down, memorizing all of your coping mechanisms and the way you communicated your feelings. But something in his head told him to talk to you sooner, and he only wished you had let him before everything else fell apart.

He hadn’t slept in the six days you’d been unconscious. You had suffered such a serious head trauma that the doctors in the medical wing of the compound were surprised your scans came back clean. On top of the fractured ribs, the wound in your stomach, and the broken leg, everyone had already known you were a trooper.

By the sixth day, Bucky’s eyes were finally starting to get tired.

He fought sleep off as hard as he could, not wanting to take his eyes off of you for a second. Sam had come in several times throughout the week to bring him food to eat, though he could barely finish any of it. Steve had urged him to go shower every day, promising to watch you and alert him if any changes had happened, pleading with him until he finally agreed. Bucky would rush to shower and immediately ran back as he had finished and gotten dressed. Steve would just give him a pat on the shoulder and a longing look, knowing he couldn’t push any more out of his best friend who was watching intently over the love of his life.

Bucky laid his head on the small space on the side of the bed next to you, his thumb running soothing motions back and forth on your hand as his solemn, blue eyes watched you take small breaths in and out with your eyes sealed shut. His eyes then pulled him into a slumber, one he didn’t even remember falling into.

After a few hours, he felt you shuffle a bit on the bed, shooting his eyes open and seeing you rub your eyes with your free hand, his hand still intertwined in your other one.

“Y/n?” he spoke softly, your eyes redirecting to his face and a small smile creeping on yours.

“Hi,” you said groggily. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

Bucky sat up and shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for, baby. I’m just glad you’re awake,” he reassured as he let go of your hand and moved his to rest on your cheek. “How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?”

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” you joked in a tired voice. “How long have I been out?”

Bucky sighed, though he was glad you were feeling well enough to be playful. “Six days,” he answered. “You had a lot of injuries.”

You nodded slightly. “What about the mission?”

“Natasha and Tony took care of it,” he informed you. “They stayed behind while we evacuated to finish and found a copy of the file. Mission successful.”

You nodded once again, biting down on your bottom lip as you knew there was still unresolved tension between you and Bucky. He noticed it too, but he didn’t think it was the right time to talk about it. Not right after you woke up.

A few days later, you had been discharged from the medical wing and had gone back to your room. You had told Bucky you wanted to go back to his, but he had insisted it’d be better for you to rest in yours.

He stayed with you the first few days you were in recovery, though he didn’t sleep next to you. It hurt a bit, but you had at least felt comfort in knowing he was in the room with you.

One morning, you had woken up and saw Bucky sleeping peacefully on the couch chair in the corner of your room, knowing he had finally gotten rest after a few days. You stayed watching him and he met your eyes immediately when you woke up.

“Hey,” he said in the raspy morning voice you knew all too well. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you said as you sat up a bit in bed, to which Bucky moved to your side to help you do.

“Don’t exert yourself too much, Y/n,” he warned in a light tone. “You’re still recovering and I don’t want you to prolong y—”

“Buck, I’m okay, I promise,” you cut him off, placing your hands on his face and forcing him to look you in the eyes. His normal, cerulean eyes were a bit more clouded. They looked more gray in the dim lighting of your room, but you could also make out the sting of sadness in them.

The longer he looked in your eyes, the more tears formed in his. “I could have lost you,” he said with a crack in his voice. “I almost lost you without making things right with you. I’m never gonna forgive myself for that.”

“We don’t have to talk about this right now, Bucky—”

“No,” he cut you off this time. “I can’t wait any longer, Y/n. It’s eating me alive and I want to make things right with you. I need to make things right with you. Everything that went wrong on that mission only made everything worse. You could have died while being on bad terms with me and I’m never, never, going to let that happen again. Do you understand me?”

You nodded slightly, tears quickly glossing your eyes as well while a tear slid past Bucky’s. He cupped your face in his hands, wiping the tears that fell down your cheeks with his thumbs as you started to play with your fingers in your lap.

“Do you think that I care about anything in this world but you?” he said, a noticeable shake in his voice while he didn’t break eye contact with you. “There is nothing that compares to you in my world. Nothing. When I heard that explosion and Tony say your name, it felt like my heart dropped. I don’t want to experience that again. Especially if I’m not with you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “So you mean—”

“I said what I said because I’m too scared not to be with you, Y/n. It’s wrong and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I felt you weren’t ready to be on your own. You’re more than ready and I was clouded by my own fears and patronized you when you didn’t need that. I can’t lose you, I can’t picture what the rest of my life would even look like without you in it. But my fears should never come in the way of your accomplishments that you deserve and earned, honey. Never. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you and I’m sorry that it took everything that happened for me to say it to you.”

If the tears weren’t falling from your face before, they most definitely were now. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s torso and sobbed into his chest. He was crying too, but he wrapped his arms around you and rubbed small circles in your back to soothe you the way he always did.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out between sobs. “I didn’t want to fight with you, I just—”

“Shh,” Bucky comforted you. “It’s okay, baby, I know. I didn’t want to fight with you either, it’s on me.”

You pulled away slightly to look up at him once your sobs died down, sniffling a bit as he looked down at you with all the love and adoration he’s always had for you.

“Promise me we’ll never fight before a mission again,” you urged softly, and even though your tone was slightly playful, Bucky knew you were also half serious.

“I promise, baby,” he said, kissing your forehead twice. “Now let’s go back to sleep.”

You nodded as he made his way around the bed and slid next to you, carefully wrapping his arms around you as you both laid down and enjoyed each other’s warmth again.

__________________________________

thank you so much for reading! i thoroughly enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoyed reading my first piece!

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky angst #sad!bucky #boyfriend!bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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bloodmoonmuses · 3 months

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stray cats, cold spaghetti | mark lee

genre: mark lee x reader, meet cute, friends to lovers (this is unedited, so forgive any typos! happy valentine's day!)

warnings: mentions of food!

summary: your cat introduces you to your new friend, mark. he's a bit more similar to an actual cat than you initially realized.

You didn’t understand the attachment people had to their pets until this stupid cat showed up. She was a stray, with mangled fur and callous eyes, who popped up some months ago. You had checked for any postings about missing pets, and even asked a few of your neighbors, but no one claimed the ratty thing. It’s not that you disliked animals entirely- you’re not a sociopath. You just aired more on the side of nonchalance.

The cat could sense this, ever since the first time you two crossed paths. You remember that night so vividly. You couldn’t sleep. You laid on your couch, staring at the ceiling, hoping slumber would whisk you away sooner than later. Just as your eyes began to flutter shut, you heard whining. Visceral, pained whining. At first, you tried to ignore it, but when you heard a sound that suspiciously sounded like a young child, you figured it’d be better to survey the situation just in case. When you opened your door to a begging cat, you sighed. Damn the neighbors for feeding this thing. Now she thinks she owns the place.

“I bet you’re hungry, huh.” The cat bore into you with bright green eyes, tilting its head as if to say, “Duh!”

So you re-entered your home, Googled “What human food can cats eat?”, and came back with canned tuna and half a carrot. The brat looked right past the carrot and inhaled the tuna, this being its first real meal of the day. In between scarfing down food, the gray cat looked at you inquisitively. “Any more where that came from?” her eyes said. She sidled up next to your leg, purring and rubbing her head against it.

“That’s all I got,” you had confessed.

You named her June, since that’s the month she came into your life. Now, you’re best friends. June is actually pretty chill. She likes watching movies with you and, strangely, likes going on walks. After getting her groomed, she’s kinda cute too. You hated to admit it, but you love June. You imagine this is how people felt about their kids- without the initial reluctance of course. June comes and goes as she pleases as if she’s still a stray, but always comes back by dinner time.

When June isn’t back at her usual time one day in October, you get a bit nervous. She never does this. Before breaking out into a full out panic, you remember she’s got a collar and a tracker from the vet now. No biggie. Opening the app that’s connected to June’s tracker, you meander down the path you usually walk with her when it’s warmer out. When you’re a few blocks from your place, you see her, relief flooding your system. Then you realize there’s a man petting her.

“Junie! June!” You run up to her, taking her into your arms. You snuggle her into a tight embrace, planting a kiss on her head. You’re so caught up in your reunion with June that you forget about the stranger standing in front of you. Oh yeah. You should probably say something. His hair is somewhere in between auburn and brown, making his face look incredibly warm. You hold June a bit tighter.

“Cute cat,” the stranger says. His voice is a bit hoarse. “Thought she was a stray before I saw the collar.” Um, okay? June’s a little rough around the edges, but she’s clearly cared for.

“Yeah, she’s mine. Do you, like, follow strays around in your free time?” you ask with a bite to your tone.

“Do you let your pet wander around like a stray in your free time?” Fair, you think, but still rude.

“She’s a free spirit,” you contest.

“So you let her wander.”

“This is the first time she hasn’t come home for dinner. Our relationship is built mostly on my ability to provide her food- which works for me.” You’re not sure why you’re explaining your relationship with your cat. Who cares what this guy thinks?

June jumps out of your arms, back to the ground, and walks up to the stranger’s legs. He bends down to resume petting her. From his crouched stance, he looks into your eyes. The eye contact makes you shiver.

“She’s sweet,” he says. “What’s her name?”

“June. She’s a charmer- and incredibly manipulative. She probably thought she could swindle you out of some food.”

“Do I look easy to take advantage of?” He asks.

You assess him. Oversized hoodie, baggy pants, sneakers covered in scuffs... Maybe he’s a dancer. Or skateboards. You’d be into that, you think. Skater boys weren’t really your thing, but they could be- as long as it’s him. If anything, the guy just looks… cozy, all bundled up like this. There’s a tinge of red on the tip of his nose from the nippy air. He’s smirking to himself at his (flirtatious) question, making his cheek look plump. You want to pinch it.

You want to make him as warm as his eyes make you feel.

You realize you’ve probably been staring. Geez, what was his question? Oh yeah. “Yeah. Like a pushover,” you say. “In the best way, of course.”

“Ouch.”

“Only a real sap would fall victim to June’s powers. She can sense lackeys. No offense.”

“I’m gonna choose to believe that means you think I’m a nice guy.”

“Nice enough.”

“I’ll take it.” The two of you stand in awkward silence for a few moments, June having finally grown bored of her new friend. The guy stands from his crouching position and sways a bit as he awaits your next move.

“Well, like I said, this little lady was late for dinner. So if it’s okay with you,” you pick up June, then continue your thought, “We’ll be heading out.”

As you turn to walk back home, the stranger says, “I… didn’t catch your name, by the way.”

Right. You introduced June, but not yourself. Go figure. “Oh. I’m ___.”

“Cool. I’m Mark.” He looks like a ‘Mark’-boyish and chipper.

“Nice to meet you, Mark. Well, have a nice night.” You start to walk again, but Mark interjects yet again.

“The sun’s setting,” he blurts it out like he’s trying to rid his mouth of the words as quickly as possible. “Can I walk you home?” Then he amends, “I live nearby, so I know it gets kinda dark in this neighborhood. Not many street lights.”

You think about it. You’re not getting any serial killer vibes, plus he’s already passed the June test. (And if you're being honest, he's very cute.) “Um, sure. Thanks.”

The two of you walk in silence, save for June’s purring. When you make it to your apartment building, you stop. Your gut is twisting, mind fixating on the warmth radiating off Mark’s body. Your fingertips are whirring with electricity. You have a bad idea.

“Would you maybe… wanna come in for dinner?” Mark turns to look at you. “I never really learned how to cook for one person, so I always have a bunch of leftovers.”

It’s a lie, but not entirely. You like to cook enough food for the entire week. Mark doesn't need to know this, you conclude.

Mark nods to himself. “Uh, sure. I could eat.”

As soon as you place June down in your apartment, she sprints to her food bowl. Silly girl.

“Sorry about the mess. Wasn’t expecting company,” you say. “I hope you like spaghetti.”

“Love it,” Mark responds. (You’d later find out this was a lie.)

“Perfect.”

That’s how you and Mark became friends- similarly to how June came into your life. You fed him. In all honesty, he wasn’t that fond of your spaghetti. He just liked the way you smiled each time he took a bite. The two of you continued to get to know one another while making food. Neither of you are great cooks, so you usually team up. It’s become a love language of sorts, sending recipes back and forth to try. You look forward to eating with Mark more than anything these days.

You’re more than aware of your underlying feelings for Mark, but you’ve managed to temper them. You don’t want to scare him off, but the tension is relentless. You’re making tiramisu and your shoulders touch. You’re piping flowers on a cupcake while Mark pulls tendrils of hair away from your face. You’re whisking meringue into stiff peaks while Mark hums to June in the living room. It’s heart achingly domestic.

Oftentimes you imagine Mark as your husband. In your daydreams the two of you are wearing matching aprons, flour dusting his nose. He kisses you, a fit of giggles attacking your system. You’re absolutely smitten and unabashedly so.

In reality, today is Valentine’s Day. Mark suggests he comes over and makes pizza. You don’t think Mark realizes what day it is until you suggest making your pizzas heart shaped. He says he forgot to buy his friend Jaehyun a birthday gift.

“This is, like, kinda romantic.” If being covered in pizza sauce and flour is romantic, then yes. This was very romantic. You have a nice spread here- fresh basil, mozzarella, alfredo sauce, vodka sauce, roma tomatoes… It smells so nice. Mark keeps sneaking chunks of cheese into his mouth. He looks like a little mouse. June is fast asleep on the couch. You’ve finally perfected the heart shape of your dough, and begin to spread alfredo sauce on your pizza.

“Your parameters for romance are very strange, Mark Lee.”

“If you close your eyes, it’s like we’re in Italy.” When he says things like this, they only fuel your daydreams. You blame the flush of your face on the preheating oven.

“Venice, I hope.”

“Of course.”

Mark’s pizza looks more like an anatomical heart than the kind you’d doodle in a notebook. He scoffs when you tell him this, feigning offense.

“Should I remind you of how your cinnamon rolls came out a few weeks ago?” They were awful. At a certain point, you had given up and rolled them into balls.

“My cinnamon rolls/balls were innovative and transcendent.”

“I don’t even know how you messed them up,” Mark says as he puts the pizzas in the oven, “We bought pre-made dough.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

When the pizzas are done baking, the two of you sit at the dinner table. It’s a different feel for the two of you, seeing as you usually eat together on the couch. You take a bite of your pizza, savoring the taste.

“Not bad. Wanna taste?” Mark nods. Instinctively, the two of you swap plates, trying each others’ creations.

“I think you’re better at making savory foods.”

“I agree.”

You and Mark continue to eat your pizzas, taking gulps of your respective drinks in between bites. Beer for Mark, white wine for you. Jazz plays softly from your shitty phone speaker, and June’s snores fill in the gaps of silence. After a bit, Mark’s face goes red from the alcohol. You liked seeing him tipsy. He gets all wavy and fluid, unconsciously swaying side to side like a daisy in the wind. Your face feels fuzzy from the wine and you find yourself biting your tongue.

You’ve had to be more conscious of your alcohol intake around Mark lately. It felt as if at any moment, your love for him would simply become unbearable. Recently, it’s been hard to just look at him- even while sober. Tonight, apparently, you threw caution to the wind.

“Mark?” you say.

“Hmm….” He’s drifting away, lethargic from the food and beer. You repeat his name again, this time getting his full attention. When his glassy eyes meet yours, the force behind them knocks the wind out of you.

“Yes?” says Mark. He takes another sip of beer.

You can’t do this, you think, backtracking entirely. The lie escapes as a garbled mess of words: “Forgot what I was gonna say.” You take a nervous gulp of your wine.

Mark slams his fist on the table, in a drunken stupor. The sound startles you, but there’s no malice behind his motion. In fact, he’s laughing to himself. “Bullshit.”

“I really did lose my train of thought. Maybe it’ll come back to me.”

“I know you’re lying. Like you lied about that cold ass spaghetti you used to lure me in!” he says, referencing the night you met. The spaghetti wasn’t that cold…

“I really did make too much spaghetti that night! Plus, you kept June safe. It was the least I could do!”

Mark begins to gather your plates and cups, walking over to the kitchen to place them in the sink. As he stands, he says, “I won’t force you to say it, but I know you’re lying.”

Then he moves to run the faucet. The rushing water fills the silence like TV static, buzzing and itching in your ears. Your throat is burning. You want to talk to him openly, honestly- but something’s stopping you. Mark washes the dishes wordlessly. With his back turned to you, his words hang heavy in the air. Mark never pries but simultaneously knows you so intimately. You love being known by him. You love knowing him.

You simply love him.

“Why’d you walk me home that night?” Your voice barely pierces the air. The question practically squeaks out of you.

“What?” Mark turns off the facet and dries his hands on a towel, turning to look at you.

“The night we met. Why’d you walk me home?”

He contemplates the question for a moment, closing his eyes to visualize the night. Then he says, “Wanted to make sure you got home safely.”

The moment is delicate and fragile. You’re scared that if not nimble enough, if not cradled with the utmost gentleness, it will shatter. You proceed with caution.

“Mark?” At the sound of his name, Mark returns to his seat at the dining table.

“I think… I love you.” Mark chuckles. “Don’t laugh!”

“You think?” he says, now breaking out into a full-bodied laugh.

“Yeah. I think so.”

“I love you too.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “...I think.”

“Very funny, asshole.”

Mark reaches over the table and places a chaste kiss upon your lips. “Okay, I think I’m a little more sure now,” he says.

“Need some more reassurance?” you ask. Mark nods.

You lean in to kiss him this time, and just before your lips touch, you hear whining. You pull back to look down, seeing June curled up beneath your chair. Her timing is always impeccable. The two of you giggle, sealing the moment with a fervent kiss. You melt into his touch, the elation coursing through your veins. When you come up for air, you meet Mark’s eyes.

“What?” he says. “I’m a better kisser than you thought?”

“I was just wondering… you’re still gonna wash the dishes, right?”

#bloodmoonmuses #nct 127 #nct 127 fluff #mark lee #mark lee fic #mark lee fluff #mark lee x reader

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ilovelyneysm07 · 23 days

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Shooting Stars - SAGAU!Lyney x Player Part 1

Summary: Shooting Stars were always a weird occurrence in the world of Teyvat, so when they suddenly stop, certain magician can't help but wonder if it has to do with the strange aching in his chest.

CW: Self Aware AU, NOT Cult AU or Creator AU, Angsty, the Reader is referred as Player, Based on my own Genshin Account, Pretty Self-Indulgent, GN!Player, Cross-posted on AO3, English is not my first language and I'm not an experienced writer

Taglist: @yurislilygarden @yurislotusgarden

Lyney had a weird feeling in his chest for a while, like a strange ache that won’t go away, it didn’t affect his shows in any kind of way, having perfected his stage persona, a little ache in his chest is not going to make him fail, but in the back of his mind, he can’t help but wonder what’s going on.

It all started a few months ago, the once bright blue sky turned dark and shooting stars fell from it, a golden star different from the rest, falling towards the Palais Mermonia, or rather, near it. Many people were worried about what was going on, but many others were already used to the phenomena that was the strange “shooting stars” that happened from time to time. Some stars fell into Inazuma, some others into Liyue, even some fell into Sumeru. Nobody knows why this happens, only that if a star falls on you, you receive a strange aura around you.

After that month’s event, and Miss Furina was walking around freely and with a smile on her face, the shooting stars suddenly… stopped, the sky returning to the usual bright blue. No clouds, no movement, just blue.

With each passing day, the ache in Lyney’s chest increased, the lack of dark skies made his mind wonder if it had something to do with the ache he felt in his chest. Why did the shooting stars stop falling? Does it really have something to do with him?

The magician went over to his dear sister, to ask her if she felt something similar, but she just shrugged, saying that she suddenly felt an aura surrounding her, no shooting star needed (Lyney failed to notice the way her eyes avoided his gaze, slight frown in her face).

Then the magician wanted to ask his younger brother, but he already knew the answer, as the month before the last dark sky, a shooting star fell into Freminet while he was diving in the waters of Fontaine, purple aura surrounding him (Lyney also failed to notice the nervous stare Freminet send his way).

Questions kept surrounding the magician’s mind, while his eyes were glued to the starry night sky, wondering if one of those stars is gonna fall. Maybe fall on him too, please?

Lyney can’t lie that he felt a little bit jealous of his siblings, both being “blessed” (that’s how many people saw it) by the shooting stars, both being surrounded by that weird purple aura. He didn’t want to feel like this again, feeling like he’s falling behind his sister or that he’s not strong enough to be the “older brother” figure anymore.

He can’t help but feel helpless. Will he be blessed like his siblings? What’s so special about this “blessing” anyway?

While looking at the night sky outside the window in the Opera Epiclese, his thought bubble gets interrupted when he hears people muttering among each other in the dressing room. Now, he’s not one to eavesdrop (at least, not when he’s not commanded to), but the topic of the conversation catched his interest.

“Why do you think the shooting stars stopped?” one of the staff members of his shows said, Lyney could hear the sound of boxes moving inside as he got closer.

“Honestly? I have no idea. They were already inconsistent, but to suddenly stop? Now that’s weird.” the other staff member said, their steps giving the hint that they were moving around rather quickly.

“Do you have any theories, though? I heard that the last one to receive the blessing was Lady- Miss Furina, and she sometimes is seen walking around with a golden aura around her! Golden!-” a loud sound could be heard, alongside the kinda loud scream of the staff member. “Sorry!”

“Be careful, but yeah, that never happened before, right? Miss Lynette has a purple aura, alongside Mister Freminet.” some steps could be heard, and more boxes were being moved around.

“Wait- what about Mister Lyney? Did you see any kind of aura in him?” Lyney felt his body tense at the mention of his name. A silence fell in the place, no boxes were moved and no footsteps could be heard. “Wait… does he have an aura?”

“I… don’t think so. Then again, only a few people in Fontaine have it.” more silence, and then footsteps started coming to the door, startling Lyney.

“His siblings do… Why not him?”

The door opened, and the two staff members started walking towards the hallway, some boxes in their hands. Lyney emerged from his hiding place, his gaze strangely blank.

“Why not him?”

On the other side of the screen, an excited player was looking at their primogem count. 296 wishes in their virtual wallet and 20 intertwined fates. They then watched all the materials needed in the ascension planner; everything was good, all of the materials checked, including his weapon’s materials (if they get it).

The player smiled to themselves and opened the wishing menu, seeing the 3 day(s) left message under the iudex’s banner. They took a deep breath and closed the game for the day, determination in their eyes.

Lyney, you will be mine. They thought with a smile on their face.

A/N: In celebration of Lyney's rerun, I made this. It's kinda angsty, but don't worry, things will get better when his banner comes out :P

#genshin impact #genshin lyney #genshin #lyney genshin #lyney #lyney x reader #genshin impact lyney #lynette #genshin lynette #genshin impact freminet #freminet #house of the hearth #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact x reader

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bbunivxrse · 4 months

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 2:34AM ‒ megumi fushiguro

pairing ‒ 21+megumi x f!reader contents ‒ College AU, alcohol consumption, gets a bit suggestive at one part but no smut, heartbroken megumi gets wasted asfff, a bit angsty word count ‒ 2.3k a/n ‒ a tad bit angsty fgjioejio wrote this at like 4am if you see mistakes no tf u didnt ??? - also making my posts more nice n pretty n aesthetic cuz i felt like it :3

Megumi Fushiguro sat alone on the couch at a party. he can’t recall why he was there or how many shots he had but everything was starting to get cloudy. girl after girl walking up to him, offering him drinks. he hates alcohol. he hates the taste, he hates the smell, he hates the feeling of it in his mouth and going down his throat, he hates being drunk and he hates being hungover, yet he continues accepting all their offers. the women were hot but none of them were you. maybe he thought if he drank enough he could forget the past, forget the guilt and move on from everything like he should’ve a long time ago. he thought if he got drunk enough the regretful thoughts of the past would go away and the thoughts of you along with it. then he could go on with his life. but the more he drank the more present it became and the more his reality began to shatter at the thought.

girl after girl came up to him, sat near him, sat beside him, sat on him, yet it was only you he could think about. he gladly took their drinks but could barely have a one sided conversation with them for a few minutes before shooing them away.

as the party went on it felt like the music got louder and the lights brighter. his head pounded and he felt nauseous. ‘what am i doing here.’ megumi sinks into the couch, trying to keep himself calm by taking deep breaths and grounding himself in reality. ‘i wanna go home.’ he takes out his phone and stares at his lock screen, it was pitch black with only the white text of the time and date showing. he remembers when it used to be a picture of you with the text showing how far away you were from him. a picture you had taken of yourself in the mirror and sent to him, moments later he had it saved and set it to his wallpaper. he remembers your reaction when you saw it, a bright smile on your face while he was a bit embarrassed to be caught doing something he considered a bit ‘obsessive.’

megumi is ripped from his thoughts as someone taps on his shoulder. “wanna have a drink with me..?” he looks up to a see a woman standing right in front of him, a bottle of wine in her hand. megumi wanted to say no, and he was about to, until he took a closer look. ‘she looks just like her’. no, she wasnt exactly the same, but she was similar. from the shape of her body to the way she did her makeup, the way she styled her hair, the jewelry she wore and the shy expression on her face. even the damn dress she wore was similar to the short, black, skin tight dress he had bought you. she was so similar, so familiar, but it still wasn’t you. “sure.”

megumi patted his lap for her to sit down. she handed him the entire bottle and the two of them shared until the bottle was finished. they chatted as they took swigs from the bottle of wine, and as the conversation went on megumi continued to realize that as similar as she seemed, she wasn’t you. it started to throw him off. she didn’t talk like you, she didn’t have the same favourite colour or have the same aspirations. she was still a stranger. she felt like you, looked like you, dressed like you, she almost was you. almost. “let’s go somewhere private.”

megumi pulls her off his lap and leads this mysterious women to a bedroom. this would be the first time he’s fucked another woman since getting with you, even though it’s been months since you left him. he hasn’t even looked at another woman until tonight. he closes the door to the bedroom, the mystery woman pulling him closer and putting her lips on his. ‘she doesn’t kiss like her.’ megumi is yet again reminded that as much as he wants this to be you and he’s willing to pretend it’s you, it’s not you. still, he allows her to unbotton his shirt as they make out and get into bed. she hiked up her dress for him, revealing her black laced panties. ‘her favourite set was red.’

megumi hovers over her, his eyes dead set on her panties making her a bit uncomfortable. ‘what am i doing?’ he questions himself, the headache starting to come back as the music that was previously bothering him can be heard from downstairs. “i need to go.”

“what?” megumi barely gives her a chance to speak before getting out of bed and heading out the door. she fixes herself up before following after him, but by the time she’s back to the party, he’s already gone.

megumi stumbles down the sidewalk, aimlessly walking into the night. the streetlights barely illuminate the sidewalk as he tried to keep himself upright. he finds himself at a dimly lit park, throwing himself onto a park bench. he groans as he takes out his phone, the bright light blinding him and making his skull splitting headache worse. the words on the screen are barely legible as he spends an embarrassing amount of time trying to find his contacts. he thinks about calling yuuji, but he knows he’s usually asleep by this time and keeps his phone on do not disturb at night. he scrolls to kugisaki and calls her instead. the phone rings for a bit, before he hears her groggy voice on the line. “hello..?”

“can you pick me up?” megumi barely pieces his sentence together “oh my god megumi, it’s 3AM! you shouldve left earlier. i’m going to bed, i have a class in the morning.”

“please, kugisaki. i can’t drive…” megumis words slur a bit “holy shit, you actually drank?? oh my god this isn’t what i meant when i told you to have some fun.”

“just pick me up. ill make it up to you.” megumi pleads over the phone, a desperate tone coming from his voice that she wasn't used to hearing even after knowing him for so many years

“yeah, whatever. where are you? actually, don’t fucking bother, you sound too wasted to figure that out. just send me your location.” megumi can hear his friend's bed sheets ruffling as she gets out of bed, which begins to fill him with a bit of guilt, even if she was the one who suggested he go to the party in the first place. eventually he figures out how to send kugisaki his location, patiently waiting for it to go through. “okay, i got it. ill be there soon, idiot.” she hangs up before he can say anything back.

megumi sits back on the hard bench, rethinking his night at the party. he wasn’t even hung over yet but he already regretted all of it. he had hoped that the music and the people and the alcohol would distract him, take his thoughts away from the past and finally live in the present but they only made him miss you more. if you were still with him he’d be in your room, laying in your bed napping whilst you studied for your next exam. the music wouldn’t be blasting in his ears and causing him a headache and instead would be soft lofi playing quietly from your speaker, which helped you study and helped him sleep. he wouldn’t have to try and imagine the girl he was talking to was you, it would’ve been you.

without thinking, megumi takes out his phone, opening up a locked folder. his face id unlocks the folder that held pictures and videos of you. he’s gone through everything multiple times and he wishes he could still take more and add them to his collection. he wishes you would still take pictures of your outfits and send them to him. he wishes his wallpaper was still his favourite picture of you.

tears begin to well in his eyes as he turns off his phone and stuffs it in his pocket, he can’t bring himself to look through that folder again. not in his current state. you’re already gone, he knows that, he’s been told that, you told him that. he knows he needs to move on and continue his life without you but you’ve been the only thing on his mind for months and the alcohol in his system certainly wasn’t helping.

megumi wipes his tears as he hears the car in front of him beep. pushing himself off the bench, he limps his way over to his friend’s car and gets in the back seat.

“jesus, i thought you didn’t like drinking.” usually his friend would laugh at him for things like this but this time her tone and the look on her face was more serious. “whatever.”

the car ride was abnormally silent and the odd tension in the air was prevalent. kugisaki dropped him off in front of the dorms, his roommate already waiting for him outside. “thanks.” is all megumi can say to his friend as he walks away from her car.

“you alright, megumi? did something happen while you were there?” yuuji takes a good look at his best friend. he knows it’s been rough since the break up, he’s seen all of it. he’s done what he can to help keep his mind off it, to help his friend move past it but clearly it’s all still there. he feels guilty for sending megumi to this party now. kugisaki suggested it but he was the one who really convinced him it’d be a good idea, but he should’ve thought it through a bit more. yuuji can see the puffiness of his eyes and it breaks his heart to see his normally stoic friend in such a state. he’s really tried everything to help but at this point he can’t do much anymore. “it’s okay man, forget about it.” he throws an arm around his friend to keep him stable, taking him back to their shared dorm. yuuji spends the night trying to distract his friend, getting him to sober up and eventually fall asleep.

sunlight spilling from the blinds shines on megumis face, waking him up. the moment he opens his eyes he’s met with painful pounding in his head. still, he manages to sit up, his headache getting worst every moment hes conscious. he makes his way to the living room, where his friend is already sitting on the couch. “hey.” he barely mumbles out before plopping himself on the other side of the couch. “you hungry?” his roommate waved back at him.

“no.” megumi gets himself comfortable on the couch, trying to distract from the overwhelming throbbing he’s feeling. suddenly his phone buzzes on the coffee table, where he apparently left it last night. picking it up, he had a slightly abnormal amount of notifications from kugisaki, both texts and calls.

[ 4 missed calls from kugisaki ]

[ kugisaki: did you text y/n? ]

[ kugisaki: megumi answer my call oml ]

his heart drops as he opens his phone and goes to messages, and there he sees it. three messages he had sent last night, all of which he doesn’t even recall. “sorry…” yuuji looks over at his roommate, seeing the colour from his face leave as he looks at the messages he had sent. “i tried to stop you but you were gonna beat the shit outta me when i took your phone...”

“it’s fine.. sorry.” megumi didn’t even want to read the messages he sent. he can see them, he can see that they went through, he can see that you haven’t read them, and he doesn’t want to read them either. he decides to turn off his phone and put it down, judging by kugisaki’s messages, you had already seen the messages and told her about them, just never actually opened them. ‘fuck.’

“hey, why don’t we just go out somewhere? To help you forget about it. let’s go watch a movie!” normally megumi isn’t the most excited about leaving his home and heading out. he prefers staying in his room, lounging on the couch or getting a good workout in at the gym, but today he feels more than ever that he needs to spend some time doing something else, distract himself from his sad, dull life. go out and have some actual fun, especially with his best friend. “sure,”

“I told you it’d be a good movie!” yuuji pokes at his friend’s arm.

“It was about an earthworm.” megumi playfully rolls his eyes as the two of them walk out of the theater. “It was more than that! Did you even watch the movie!?” the two of them continue to argue about the quality of the movie they had just seen on their way to the parking lot. megumi takes his phone out of his pocket to check his notifications and his heart drops for a second time that day. a name that hasn’t appeared on his lock screen in months, the name he’d been waiting to see there for so long. it was the only one in his contacts to have any sort of emoji or decoration to it, and he never changed it despite everything.

[ you: i mess you sofucjng much ]

[ you: pls so im sorry for everything ]

[ you: pleese baby pls talk to me ]

- Unread message -

[ y/n <3: come over, we’ll talk about it ]

megumi stares at the notification. it felt as if his heart skipped several beats. he opens the message and continues to stare. his fingers move on their own as he types a response and he doesn’t even think about it before hitting send.

[ you: on my way ]

omg can u guys tell im not good at coming up with endings :sob:

#megumi x reader #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

266 notes · View notes

thecapricunt1616 · 2 months

Text

Allspice (c.b oneshot)

♡ O.S Inspo: Forever & Always - Fearless (TV) ; "Was I out of line, did I say something way too honest, made you run and hide like a scared little boy?" ♡ Pairing : CarmyxAFAB Reader as little physical description possible | She/Her pronouns used, NO use of Y/N :)

♡ Summary: You have a very successful Culinary Review blog, the social media manager of one of your new hometown restaurants 'The Bear' has been dying to get you out to try their food. But since the EC is a bit of an overzealous competitor, you end up having to go back for round 2- you end up having a delicious dinner, and a free show.

♡ W/C: 4,381

♡ Posted Date: 03/18/24

♡ A/N: FIRST THING: I am HORRIDDDD at writing Claire- I'm much better at writing Carmy cause were alot more similar- so this Claire isn't gonna be CRAZY canon, but I think she got the job done. Anyway- EEEEEP!!! Here is my VERY FIRST ONE SHOT EVER!! Inspired by my amazing, wonderful, PRECIOUS FLOWER @daysofyellowroses that can be found here :) AAAAA!!! My precious Rose I hope you enjoy this, It could ABSOLUTELY have a part 2 if y'all like it. I ended it here cause I'm sooo wordy and I didn't want it to turn in to a multi-chap. fic by mistake...but ofc if y'all want more just tell me and ill get RIGHT TO WORK!!! I really hope this comes off how I saw it in my head. There's no smut/sexy stuff, just mutual pining and flirty teasing, I hope thats ok!! aaa here we goooo!!! Enjoy <3

♡ Warnings for BTC: Swearing, Drinking alcohol (Literally it LOL)

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

Being a Food Critic wasn’t an easy gig, as much as people wanted to believe it’s simply going to famous restaurants, trying their most popular dishes- and giving your opinion, it was much more then that.

Each and every aspect of the restaurant was under your review, from the second you walked in the door, you were judging everything. From the atmosphere, to the music, to the decor, to the comfortability of the furniture all of it, was to meet your expectations if the owner of the establishment wanted a good review.

Today was finally the day you'd review one of the restaurants that had sent 3 requests for you to feature a review of them on your blog.

The Bear. Interesting name, you thought.

With the rugged name- you’d assumed a more millennial hipster-New American vibe. But when you’d arrived- you were quite…impressed? That instead of leaning into that all too common aesthetic, it was more of a classy, comfortable vibe.

They’d not even had bear art, anything of the sort. It was pure comfort, mixed with subtle class. The kind that spoke to the cost of the dishes- but wasn’t in your face obnoxious. The only ‘Bear’ was the little golden bear embossed into the leather menu you’d been handed when seated at the table.

The way you did your reviews was…a tad unusual - some chefs in the industry called it ‘unfair’ but you called it…the fairest things could be. Instead of telling them when you’d be swinging by for a review since where’s the fun in that you’d call, make a reservation under some random name, and they’d know you’d accepted their offer when the review had been posted on your blog.

It felt most honest and fair because you were one of the most renowned food critics in the country right now. If they knew you were coming- any EC with a brain would spend the night before your arrival, prepping the entire restaurant and staff - assuring they’d be on their best behavior to try and squeeze a higher grade out of you.

But you were just a reader once upon a time, years ago- when you realized in culinary school that the making of the art didn’t interest you, it was the observing. Food wasn’t just about taste, but rather the whole experience. And if every famous food critic you’d taken interest in back in the day- never got a true experience due to their notability? You’d never have gotten into this field. So, you were most keen on keeping things fair.

A woman with mousey brown hair comes up to your table, dressed in the typical waitress slacks and black button up shirt. “Hello! Welcome to The Bear. My name is Sam, have you dined with us before?” she asks.

You sit up in your chair, peeling your eyes from the menu. You give her a small kind smile “I haven’t” you replied, urging her to continue her script.

“Well welcome in, we're so happy you chose to spend your evening with us. So for our menu” she opens it in front of you. “Here” she points “are our wine options, fabulous selection this month. Then we have draft beers right next to it. On the following page” she points “all of our craft cocktails, then this,” she points in the bottom corner.

“Our house cocktail - Just called The Bear. It’s wonderful, if you like old fashions you’ll love this - made with Bearface Triple Oak Whiskey.” She said and you nod.

“That please. That’s what I’ll start with” you said and she nodded.

“I’ll get that right in. But quickly, just so you’re aware” she flipped the page and pointed.

“These - are the dishes of the month. Each crafted by one of our two head chefs, they change monthly so if something calls to you I recommend you try- because it won’t be back” she said. You raised your eyebrows a bit in surprise and nod.

“Thank you” you said and she gives a nod before heading off to the bar to put in your drink order before heading off to tend to other tables in your section.

Having an alternating menu intrigued you, for such a high end establishment- one with a Michelin star at that- implementing such a menu would consistently have their star at risk. One dish, one app, one drink- that was not up to par and it would be revoked. You guessed the owners of this place liked living on the edge, as if being in this industry wasn’t already being constantly on edge.

You gaze over the menu, the Chilean Seabass sounded like a fair assessment. Seafood was quite difficult to get right, especially in the springtime before peak season, and you’d be able to judge the consistency of the chopping and such because there was a fresh tomato corn salad that came with it. That was your rule when you came to judge restaurants, one main course, and one dessert.

You’d felt like the main courses were the true stars of the show anyhow, and it would be unfair to muck up your palate with an app that was usually something easy to get right (since they were usually fried, covered in cheese, or some kind of carb). And the dessert usually showed the restaurant's creativity, which you loved to see, so 2 dishes was your max.

The waitress returns with the cocktail, setting it down with a napkin under it. “Here you are, now- have you decided on a starter?” She questioned and you shook your head.

“Straight to the good stuff, I’d like the Chilean Sea Bass please. And for dessert,” you flick the page and your eyes settle on the words savory cannoli - hmm, imaginative indeed. “And uh- The Michael Cannoli?” You said, shutting the menu and handing it to her.

She nods with a smile, jotting down the order into her notepad before taking the menu and holding it to her chest. “That will be out soon as possible. Enjoy your drink” she said and headed back to the kitchen.

You sit back sipping the cocktail and humming. She was right, much like an old fashioned, but floral notes. Almost…chamomile? Yes! That was it. Very interesting.

You slipped your iPad out of your bag, opening up your journaling app and grabbing the pencil out of the little sleeve. You quickly snapped a picture with your phone of the drink, airdropping it to yourself and adding it into the entry and writing;

‘To start; ‘The Bear’ house cocktail- initial thoughts ; not too sweet, strong (but not overpowering), chamomile? Some kind of herbal tea flower’

You take another sip, letting the flavors sit on your tongue a moment before swallowing. “Mmm!” You hum to yourself, finally realizing where the herby taste beneath the chamomile was coming from that gave it that oaky piney taste.

‘Angostura bitters- will confirm!!’ You wrote just as someone approaches your table. You look up to see a man, short brown hair, stubble. He was smiling, holding a plate.

“Hello! Here we have Arancini with our house-made pesto, courtesy of Executive Chef Carmen” he placed the dish in front of you next to your iPad. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly, looking up at him, scarcel confused.

“Wrong table” you murmured, thumbing the dish back in his direction lightly. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Nope- ah, he- he said this table.” He replied. It did smell fantastic, and any other day you’d never deny delicious, deep fried balls of risotto dipped in smooth, decedent pesto- but you’re working right now and it’s not fair.

“Well, you can tell him” you lifted the dish, offering it back. “I have a system. And I’m unsure how he realized that I’m coming here, tonight, but I dislike cheaters. And he should know if he’s read my blog- I don’t muck up my palate with grease before I try the main course.” The plate was so close to him now it was nearly digging into his chest.

He nodded quickly, taking the plate without another word and briskly walking back to the kitchen. You sat back in your seat with a slight scoff.

He thinks he can win you over just like that? How did he even know you would be here?

You picked up your pencil once again, adding a note.

For the chef; Arancini smelt delicious. Didn’t order it, so I didn’t taste it . Presentation wise; 7/10. Pesto looked like it was spooned in the dish a tad bit messy to me.

You smiled to yourself, you knew he’d read the final review once it was posted. And since he wanted to be a little cheater and get a overall higher score since he was trying to weasel you into trying extra dishes- you’d kick his ego down a few extra pegs for fun.

You sat, nursing your drink, adding extra little notes here and there, as well as editing a blog post about Ghost Kitchens you’d been working on and how they were ruining the mobile order industry on the side. You were so engrossed in the work, that you hadn’t even realized someone had approached your table until they cleared their throat awkwardly.

Your gaze slowly travels up, seeing a blue apron covering a white shirt, tattooed hands holding- your meal? Your eyes flicker up to his piercing blue ones. “Chilean Sea Bass” he sets it in front of you. You snort a laugh.

“Hm.” You look around before back at him “These people” you motion to the restaurant. “Other patrons. Which meals of theirs did you bring out- Chef?” You accentuate the last word, it was all too uncommon for a chef to personally bring a meal out to a table.

You swore even in the ambient lighting, his cheeks flushed slightly. “You- uh- you declined, my Arancini. Why?” He asked, holding his hands behind his back, the position making his already toned and tattooed arms appear more muscular. It makes him all the more impressive he has all these tattoos and still made it in this industry. I can only imagine the shit he got for them.

You raise your eyebrows in surprise at his boldness. “Because that’s Cheating. Mr.Berzatto. I’d assume you know my work well. Considering you know what I look like, so- why try to cheat? You know how I feel about appetizers. It’s a scapegoat.” You shrugged, locking your iPad when you realized he’d been peeking at the notes.

“Messy” his eyes narrow. He scoffs a bit, alluding to the note you’d written a short while prior “Messy?” He asks again, you laugh a bit.

“Mmhmm! Oh, was it you chef? Wow…I mean- now that I think about it” you shook your head, now just messing with him since you see how much he was dying to impress you. “I could’ve sworn- the pesto it just..was too loose. Overblended maybe? That’s why it was impossible to plate without making a mess.” You shrugged, cutting up your fish carefully and spreading the vegetables with your knife to observe the cohesivity of the cuts.

He scoffs, “too- too loose?! W-y’know what. No. No. It- you’re gonna try it.” He demands and you look up at him, nearly laughing at the seriousness of his tone.

“That depends. Bring me a pesto worth trying and I’ll think about it. Now” you wave him off casually “I can’t work with the chef over my shoulder. So- Shoo chef don’t bother me” you teased and he shook his head.

“Game on.” He muttered, heading back to the kitchen.

You smiled to yourself, the Arancini absolutely isn’t going into the review. But you’ll humor his ego by trying it.

You cut the fish thoroughly, checking the texture and the evenness of the seasonings slathered on the skin, writing little notes as you go along. The cuts of the vegetables were pristine. Nearly perfect. The only misshapen pieces were clearly cosmetic defects of the vegetable. The chef that cut these was immaculate with a knife.

When you took your first bite, you nearly moaned. The fish was buttery, the skin was crispy, slightly spicy, tangy, the flesh melted in your mouth. The risotto was so cheesy and buttery and wonderful. You could eat this meal every night for the rest of your life and never get sick of it. It was the best Sea bass you’d ever tasted.

You opened your iPad again, jotting down notes about the flavors, the mouth feel, all the usual points you hit in your review.

This meal is a 9.2 out of 10.

You write at the bottom. Very fair score, you never had rated something as a 10. Something being a 10 would be- you don’t even know what it would be. But it would be what the score says, perfection. And while this dish was wonderful, and very very good- it was not perfect. At least to your heavily trained palate.

You finished what you wanted out of the meal, pushing the plate to the side and not soon after, Carmen was back at your table. He placed the plate in front of you, 3 perfectly circular Arancini discs were placed equal distance on the plate, and truly beautiful pesto, sat in the dish alongside it. It frankly was immaculately plated.

“Unbroken pesto. Sorry again, about the last one.” He said, watching you carefully. You hum as you grab your fork, splitting one of the discs and digging out some of the risotto.

“Could be firmer.” You said, eyes flicking to his. He nods, clearing his throat a bit.

“It’s not- uh- it’s”

“Fresh” you finished for him, raising your brows and he nods. “So- since you’re frying it. You cook it for about..a minute- maybe forty seconds less than you usually would.” You said, daintily taking the bite off your fork.

“Heard..” he nodded, waiting for your reaction. You hummed a bit.

“Great balance of parm and butter though. I’ll give you that. Neither overpowers the other, that’s hard to do considering the notes” you added, cutting up the crust and tasting it.

“Mm-“ you scrunch your nose and his face visibly drops. “Mm-mm…no- not peanut oil…why would you do that? It totally overpowers the breadcrumb with this like…cheapy taste. I’d say it would be way better if you fried it in sunflower oil” you added, digging out more of the risotto and dipping it in the pesto before having a bite and humming.

“This though” you point at the little dish of green sauce with your fork. “This is great.” You add and he nods.

“Ok-yeah…ok…” he nods, rubbing his hand over his chin. “Thank y’for trying it.” He said and you nod.

“I’ll be back for a fair assessment. I think I’ll pass on the cannoli tonight, and just get the bill. Thank you” you slipped your pencil in the case before putting your iPad in your bag and holding your hands on the table in front of you.

“Y-y’re coming back” he said, sounding slightly surprised.

You shrugged “well- you clearly want a full review based on your behavior tonight, Chef. So I’ll humor you. I won’t tell you when of course, so just pray that it’s a day like today-“ you paused, looking around. “Where things seem to be running…alright.” You sat back in your chair casually with a small smile.

“I look forward to your review.” He gave a nod and headed back to the kitchen.

It was 3 weeks before you’d decided to return back to The Bear spring had quickly turned to early summer, and you thought you’d given enough time for your little conversation with the head chef to slip his mind.

It was 9:20, 40 minutes before closing. You did promise to come back at a random time, and no time is more random then a Friday night less than an hour before the kitchen closed.

You pulled open the door, stepped in and headed up to the host stand where the same man that originally offered you the Arancini stood. “The picky critic returns.” He said, tapping his pen against the reservation book absentmindedly.

“She does” you smiled a bit.

“Well lucky f’you cousin said you get a table any time, right this way” he leads you to a booth near the back, where you had a perfect view of the restaurant. Much cozier then before, right next to the doors of the kitchen where you could hear the back of house crew buzzing about.

“Same cocktail as last time?” He asked and you raised your brows in slight surprise as you sit.

“No waitress?” You asked, getting comfortable and setting your iPad down next to the empty plate.

“She’ll be over, just figured a friendly offer couldn’t hurt” he said with a small smirk.

You roll your eyes playfully. “House cocktail please, and thank you. But don’t count on kindness boosting your hospitality score-“ you stop, realizing he never gave you his name.

“Richie” he said, sticking his hand out to shake.

“Richie.” You repeat, giving him your firm professional shake.

“House cocktail comin’ up” he said and headed back to the bar. You mulled over the menu, lemon chicken picatta, that sounded like a perfect dish to judge this time around.

A few minutes later, Richie returns, setting the glass down in front of you. “Waitress should be by momentarily, enjoy your meal” he said, heading back to the host stand.

A bit after the waitress came to take your order, the restaurant had begun to die down. You were going to be the last person served tonight it looked like, since in 5 minutes they would stop seating people.

You added additional notes to your section about the cocktail, getting a better photo of it for your blog when you hear a bit of commotion up front.

You look up, to see a woman with curled brown hair in navy blue scrubs, her hands on her hips, talking with Richie with a frustrated look. There were tears in her eyes, you couldn’t help but tune in to their conversation.

“Richie, please let me see him- he- he hasn’t said anything and I…I just need to hear him say it to my face. Please!” She begs, tears were streaming down her face now.

Richie looks around nervously, tugging her to the side so they weren’t standing right in front of the host stand. You lean over just a bit- not so much it would be noticeable, but enough your nosy ears could continue to pick up what was being said.

“Claire. You shouldn’t be here…I’m sorry- he told me-he said that..that you can’t come here anymore. It’s too much and he will apologize when he can find the words. But he can’t. So please before he sees you. Leave” he said softly, attempting to soothingly rub her arm and she jerks away like his touch burned her skin.

“Fuck you, Richie. Get him. Now. I’m not working on his time anymore. This is my time now. I’ve waited around enough for him. I’m done waiting. Either get him yourself? Or I swear to god I’ll go in that kitchen and embarrass the fucking shit out of him” she hissed.

Your eyebrows raised, shit. Whoever fucked her over should at least be warned.

He snorts, clearly amused before stepping back and raising his arms in defeat. “Have at it ClaireBear.” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You think he’s gonna take kindly to you startin’ w’him in his house? Be my guest.” He shrugged, going back over to the host stand.

And then it clicked. She’s here for Carmen.

She laughed dryly, sarcastically, like a woman who’d had it. “You think I’m scared? Richie? You think I’m scared of little Carmy who couldn’t even check out a library book by himself? mm?” She goads him, arms crossed, chest heaving with rage.

His head snaps back to look at her, brows raised in shock. “Kid- I really think you should go calm the fuck down, because Y’re not gonna like the way that this conversation ends w’him- at all.”

And with that, she shoves open the kitchen door. You couldn’t just sit there and not watch- this was the juiciest drama you’d ever been privy to in person, and this means he’s single. You slightly curse yourself for being so giddy that this means the sexy chef would likely be on the market.

Your foot catches the door before it closes, leaning against the frame. She storms in, eyes frantically darting over the kitchen.

“Carmen.” She barks, the entire kitchen stops moving and looks at her, as if they were in shock and awe someone would ever raise their voice to him in such a way.

He rounds the corner, holding a pan of focaccia dough that he nearly drops at the sight of her. He blinks a few times, squeezing his eyes shut as if she’d disappear when he opened them again.

“The fuck are you-“ his eyes meet yours, his face going pale quickly, he looked white as a sheet. “Leave.” He orders her, slamming the dough down on the counter.

“Leave?!” She laughs coldly, “you’re gonna tell me to leave?! You’re a fucking pussy Carmen. A pussy. Y’know- it was charity giving you a chance. Pity work.” She spits and you blink a few times, taken aback by such harsh words.

Is she serious? She thinks anyone could believe dating a super hot, ripped, talented, chef prodigy - that was charity work in any sense of the word?

He scoffs, “Charity?” He chuckled dryly. “Claire- you begged me to fuckin’ be with you! You-you-y’re a fuckin gnat! Claire! You- all you do is-is fuckin’-” he runs his hand through his hair, his chest heaving in anger, “You dont know me, Claire! Alright? There- And I-I-I don’t want you i’m-i’m sorry-”

She laughed, shaking her head, tears streaming down her face. “You-” she whispered, her chest shaking with a sob. “You- fucker- I- I gave you a chance…” she whispered and gripped her wrist sadly. “I- I was there for you, Carmen- when no one else could fucking stand you.” she croaked.

“And I never asked for you too- please- just…leave me alone-” he shook his head. “Leave. Please…just-pretend we never happened, it was a mistake, Claire.” he breathed, clearly utterly defeated, and It sounded like he’d told this girl these same words multiple times.

“M-Mikey would be sick- Carmy, he’d- he’d hate who you’ve become…” she said meekly, and with that- something behind his eyes snapped.

“Claire I’m not DOING THIS I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKIN’ RESTAURANT. WERE OVER. YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME! YOU MEAN NOTHING CLAIRE!” He roars, the veins in his neck popping out, angrily and aggressively pointing to the door. “OUT. get the fuck out. G-get out, b-before I-I-I fuckin- holy fuck” he finds his composure once more, even though his breath was still ragged from his outburst, flicking his hand next to him his entire body trembling with panic.

She looks to her left and right, she’s not that-

Your thoughts were quickly proven wrong, when you see she was stupid enough to grab a pan off the stove to whip at him.

“Aht!” the spanish woman standing a few paces to the right said, quickly grabbing the arm with the pan and twisting it behind her back. “Drop it.” she hissed.

Carmen looks between the two of them, utterly in shock. “Y-y’were gonna hit me?” He asked her, face twisting in rage. “Fuck you. Fuck you Claire.” He seethed, taking the pan from his employees grasp and tossing it in the sink with a loud clatter.

“Get the fuck out” you told her, grabbing her from the handle of the woman who’d stopped the assault, shoving her towards the kitchen door and into the front of the restaurant. “Y’re a fuckin crazy bitch.” You laughed dryly, giving her a hard shove for good measure.

“Oh and who are you” she straightened herself out, pushing her bag up on her shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. Glad to see that Carmy still needs someone to protect him. I’ll gladly give up that spot.” she said, causing you to laugh.

“Oh my god- you are pathetic. He just spelt it clear as day sweetheart- you are over. O-v-e-r. He doesn’t want you babe! And no, he doesn’t need my protection- I was enjoying dinner and apparently a show until you went batshit bitch.” You snip, plopping back down at your booth.

She scoffed “he doesn’t want anyone. The only thing he wants - is to remain miserable. Good fucking luck, whoever you are.” She said before stomping out.

“Yo she was really gonna throw somethin?” Richie asked as he walked over. Thankfully, it was just you, him, and the bartender in the front of the restaurant.

You nod “thankfully she didn’t realize I was there- Carmen would have had a nasty burn, and a concussion.” You said, taking a large sip of your drink.

Carmen comes out, eyes meeting yours immediately. “Fuck- I- don’t worry y’re meal is comped and don’t…don’t worry about a review, i’m sorry- I-I guess it wasn't in the cards f’r us to be featured on y’r blog... I’m really so sorry… Shes- ah..” he rubs his arm nervously, trying to find the words.

“A woman scorned” You teased, and he snorts a laugh, nodding a bit.

“Hell hath no fury, right?” He joked, sighing a bit. “It’s uh…it’s my fault I guess…I uh- I should’ve dealt with that…I've been putting it off” he said and you nod a bit.

“You off the clock?” you looked at your phone for the time, 10:07.

“Shit- fuck- sorry- I’m so sorry- give me like- I was making y’r food…and then-” you shook your head, stopping him.

“No- No…I was uh-Asking to see if you maybe wanted to..have a drink with me? Not-not like…professionally…” you shrugged, stirring your half full cocktail with the bar straw that floated in it.

“Sure- uh…sure- I’d like that lemme..lemme go change, i’ll be right out” he nodded, heading back into the kitchen.

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