#just a friendly reminder that I read all the messages on my works and often the tags too

[marvelouslizzie]

No One Else Matters

Summary: Things between you and Bucky Barnes have been going great until an Avengers dinner party reminds you of that one night you spent with Steve Rogers. Now you are afraid that the meaningless past hook-up might jeopardize your future with Bucky.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, secret relationship, alcohol consumption but no one is drunk, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v (on birth control and clean), begging, pet names, dirty talk, mentions of past hook up with Steve Rogers, eavesdropping, no mention of y/n

A/N: Another random idea that turned into a one-shot thanks to my amazing friends. Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. Also, some lines belong to her because she helped shape the story and I appreciate it a lot!

This story isn't any form of Steve Rogers hate. I just wanted to write a story like this and it wouldn't work with anyone else besides Steve. If you don't want to read a story where Steve is a past hook-up that didn't work out well, please stay away from the story.

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. 

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me. I would love to answer questions or start a conversation as long as it doesn't include any kind of hate.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

Coming to this Avengers dinner might have been a big mistake. Essentially you were looking forward to this night because it had been a while since you saw your co-workers. Some are more like friends than co-workers, but working for SHIELD keeps everyone busy. Small events like this help people to get together, catch up and maybe plan other stuff for the future, but tonight feels somewhat different.

You were enjoying yourself until you saw Bucky and Steve casually chatting on the other side of the room. That doesn’t happen very often and it reminds you of things you'd rather not think about. Things that happened years ago. Like that one time, you hooked up with Steve. It was buried so deep into your memory, you simply forgot about it and it’s not like you see Steve that often. Occasionally, his team asks for your help and you try to do your best. And you have been nothing but friendly to each other since that night. You remember him taking it pretty well when you said you’d rather stay friends with him. He probably wasn’t looking for a relationship anyways.

It was before everyone found out HYDRA was nesting inside SHIELD for years. He was simply the golden boy. The first Avenger who unexpectedly returned. A savior. Everyone was in awe of him and tried to be their best version. It felt like a fairytale came true.

The problem is whenever people make an idol of someone expectations go over the roof. And when you meet that person, see what they are like up close, you just notice he’s just like anyone else. Even though they didn’t do anything wrong or bad, it still feels somehow disappointing.

He was different than what you expected him to be. You noticed that pretty quickly and decided to keep things professional. It worked out amazingly until… now. You look around, trying to calm yourself down, keeping that memory to yourself because this is definitely not the time to bring it up.

**

When the dinner finally starts, it turns out to be a good distraction. You chat with whoever is around you about recent missions, the latest gossip, and things SHIELD is planning to do in the near future. But your eyes keep wandering towards Bucky, who is seated across the table. It’s a huge relief to see Steve and him aren’t seated together or even close to each other. Everyone knows they used to be good friends, but that’s not the case anymore. Since Bucky is back to himself and started to work for SHIELD, things went downhill for their friendship. They slowly drifted apart.

You try hard not to glance back at him again, but he’s looking at you. That makes things even harder. You notice how his lips form a small smile whenever your eyes meet and how he tries to play it off as something he did because of his conversation. But you know his smile is caused by you and even though you don’t want to accept that, it melts your heart a little more.

After the dessert is served, people start to focus on their drinks more. Different groups are forming, and when you want to take check on Bucky, he quickly tilts his head to the right, signaling you to leave the room and meet him. You look around to see if anyone noticed, but no one’s focus is on you two. 

You do nothing but watch him discreetly walk away first, without waiting for an answer. He knows you will follow. And that’s exactly what you do: you place your empty glass on the counter and leave the room as subtly as he did. What you don’t notice is that someone actually has been watching you very closely.

You have no idea where Bucky went exactly, so you start to wander around, trying to guess where he’d choose to hide until he grabs you with his arm, pulling you inside an empty room before quickly locking the door.

“Bucky!” A half-yelp leaves your lips, but it’s muffled by his hand.

“It’s me,” he whispers against your ear before he starts to kiss your neck sloppily. “Relax.”

He doesn’t waste any time. His hands are everywhere on your body: grabbing your breasts over the clothes, squeezing your ass.

“I missed you.” His breathy whisper gives you goosebumps. 

“Oh, I missed you, too.” You grab his face with both of your hands and finally kiss him properly. He happily sighs and lets you take control. His lips are soft, tasting like bourbon, which surprises you because he is usually a beer kind of guy. Maybe he decided to try something different tonight since he isn’t the one paying. 

That reminds you of the party and everyone inside. Including Steve Rogers. Bucky’s ex-best friend. And that make the anxious feeling in your gut returns. You need to tell him about what happened between you and Steve. Even if you’re afraid that it would change everything between you two. But you aren’t ready to lose him. Not when you’ve just started to realize how strong your feelings are for him.

He doesn’t fail to notice the shift in your mood. You aren’t as present in the kiss as if you have something on your mind. He stops kissing you unexpectedly, making you give him a confused look.

“Are you okay?” He sounds genuinely concerned.

You take a deep breath. Maybe it’s just better to tell him now and get it over with. What’s the point of delaying the inevitable?

“I gotta tell you something.”

You see how his concern grows even more. His expression is serious and full of worry.

“Do you want to break this off? Is that what it is?” 

God, the way he asked that question just hurts something inside you. He sounded so broken, so afraid.

“No, no! Of course not.” You quickly clear the air, leaving no space for any kind of misunderstanding. “But you might wanna break things off with me after I tell you… this.” 

You can see how your words confuse him. He squints, trying to understand what you are talking about and coming up with a reasonable explanation. You know whatever he’ll think about won’t be even close to the reality, but you didn’t expect his response either.

“Are you pregnant? Is that why you are nervous?” His hand caresses your cheek as he asks you. “You know I wouldn’t leave you for something like that, right? We can do whatever you want. It’s totally up to you.” 

No, you aren’t pregnant. That’s not even a possibility. You’ve been on birth control even before you two started to have sex. Still, hearing his soft-spoken words makes you melt inside. 

“No, baby, I’m not pregnant.” 

You both take a breath after eliminating another possibility. He looks at you fora few seconds, trying to decide if he should say it or not.

“Is it about you dating Steve?”

Words can’t describe how surprised you are. Questions flood your mind instantly. How much does he know? When did he find out? Who told him? And dating? No, you definitely did not date Steve Rogers. God, you have so many questions to ask. You don’t know where to start. 

“You know about that.” It comes out more like a question than a statement. The shock is so clear in your voice. 

“Of course, I know.” 

“How? When?” The questions come out one after another and make him smile a little. You stop yourself from asking even more and decide to make one thing clear. “And I did not date him. It was a one-time thing.”

“Oh.” He sounds surprised. Maybe he thought it was more serious, but if so why didn’t he bring it up before?

“When did you find out?” You have to know. 

“Not so long ago.”

“Who told you?” 

“Sam. He thought there was some kind of tension between you two, but I couldn’t see it. So he explained.” He doesn’t sound like it bothers him much, which is relieving.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I could ask you the same.”

He’s right. He can ask the same question. Your answer is simple, though.

“I actually forgot it happened.” Is he really smiling? “It wasn’t that memorable to me.” 

“That bad, huh?” 

You can’t help but laugh. God, you love him so much. You were worried sick about how he would react and here he is joking about it.

“Do you want an actual answer?” You finally ask. 

“Yeah, sure.” He doesn’t seem to mind.

“It was okay.” 

Now it’s his turn to laugh. “So it was bad.” 

“Like I said, not memorable.” You choose to repeat. You don’t wanna disrespect him that much, but you don’t even remember much about it. That was one of the reasons you wanted to stay friends anyway.

“Doll, it’s fine.” He finally decides to answer you seriously.

“So you don’t mind?” 

“It was way before us. It’s not my place to judge you for it.” 

That’s a huge relief. You were so worried he would just choose some kind of bro code over you but no. He chose you. You breathe out with a smile on your face.

“And if someone is gonna get judged for their past, it’s not gonna be you.”

You instantly frown because you understood immediately what he meant by it.

“That’s not the same thing. I chose to hook up with him. You didn’t choose to get brainwashed.”

“Yeah, of course, but I am the one who killed those people.”

“Bucky, no.” You touch his chest, trying to comfort him without realizing it. “Don’t go there. Please. That’s not a fair comparison.” You want him to be free of this guilt. He’s trying to redeem himself so hard, it has to end somewhere.

“Fine.” He finally accepts it. “I don’t care about your past. I only care about your present and future. Is that better?” 

“Yes, it is better.” You wrap your arms around his neck and close the distance. “You are always so forgiving, yet you are so harsh to yourself.”

“As long as you are mine, I don’t care about anything.” 

That does it. An unexpected jolt of arousal overwhelms you. Suddenly, you don’t feel shy anymore. 

“Can you…” You try to collect your words. “Can you fuck me like you did the last time?” Asking that out loud feels a little weird. Maybe you should’ve drunk a bit more.

You watch as his eyes widen in response. Oh, he wants that as much as you do. No need to feel shy.

“Which position exactly?” He sounds so cheeky, but you can see his question is genuine. He needs additional info because it wasn’t a one-and-done.

“Against the wall.” You bit your lip, remembering how good it felt. So rough, yet so full of pleasure. You can’t help but shiver when you remember that orgasm.

“Fuck.” He surpasses a moan. “We have to be quiet, doll. Can you do that for me?” His voice is really low.

You eagerly nod in response. You aren’t sure if you can actually do it, but you will try your best if he’s going to do what you asked for. 

“God, I love you so much.” You can’t hold yourself back anymore. Hearing those words from him sparks something unstoppable inside you. Grabbing him by the face, you crash your lips against him. 

“I love you, Bucky.” You keep kissing him. “So much.” Your hands move south, unbuckling him as quickly as possible. 

Your movements are rushed but not sloppy. Like you did this a million times before. It feels familiar, but it doesn’t change how much you need him. Urgently. And he doesn’t seem to mind that your act as if you are in a hurry. When you finally unbutton his pants, they pool around his ankles, and that’s when he decides to lift you up. His hands stay under your ass while he presses you against the wall, your dress already curled up around your waist. 

“Are you ready for me, doll?” He asks with that voice he uses when he’s really aroused. It turns you on even more and you didn’t know that was possible.

“Yes.” You want him inside you so much. You need his lips on you. “Please, Bucky, I need you.”

“You do?” Oh, youknow this tone too well. He loves to tease you and make you talk more about what you want, and it’s always so rewarding. So you don’t hold back.

“Please, fuck me, I need your cock so badly.” Even though it’s dimly lit inside the room, you see the shift in his eyes. Your words are feeding some kind of primal need inside him. “I need you, baby, please. I’m so wet.”

“Let’s see if that’s true.” He holds you with one hand and aligns himself to your entrance with the other. You shouldn’t be surprised by how strong he is, but every time he manages to astonish you. He doesn’t even struggle to carry or hold you. When he finally thrusts inside you, a loud moan escapes your lips. The stretch is so fucking delicious. “Shh.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” You quickly try to apologize. “It just feels ssso good.” A low moan follows your words.

“You know I love to hear you, doll.” He starts moving. “I love how you always beg for more.” His free hand goes to your head, pushing a strand of hair back so he can see your face better. “But this time we need to keep it quiet. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“I’ll be good, I promise.”

That makes him smile. You wrap your hands around his neck again, wanting to be close to him. That’s when you both hear a sound really close to you. So close that you feel like it came right at the door. You both still for a second, listening to find out if someone is outside, but there’s no more sound. So that noise is long forgotten in a minute.

You don’t even care if someone is outside. You don’t care if someone hears you fucking. Bucky Barnes loves you. No one else matters. Your lips clash against his. It’s such a sloppy kiss, but you love every second of it. His hand moves to your neck, holding you in place as he starts to pound on you.

“Is this how you wanted it?” He keeps asking, wanting you to speak, but you can't. “Is it that good you went speechless?”

You nod eagerly.

“Come on, darling. Use your words.” He’s moving relentlessly, taking your breath away with each stroke.

“Yes.” You finally manage to say. “Oh god, yes.”

“Yes to what?” He taunts you. “Is that what you wanted or is it that good?”

“Both!” You say louder than you intended, then you remember you promised to be good and you lower your voice. “Yes to both!”

“Good girl.” His flesh hand travels to your neckline. He quickly pushes the straps of your dress down more, finally revealing your breasts. You aren’t wearing a bra, thanks to the padded dress. “God, look at you.” He marvels at you. “Such a pretty little doll. All mine.” 

His mouth latches on your right breast, sucking and biting it while he keeps moving. He knows how to use his mouth well everywhere. It makes everything so much better. You can feel that pleasure starts to bottle up, your abdomen tensing.

Oh, he truly knows how to get you there. He knows how much you love it when you two climax together. It feels heavenly… like you are in your own little world and there’s no one but him there. Nothing else matters. As your legs start to shake with overwhelming pleasure, you imagine going back inside, talking to others while his come is dripping out of you. No one would know what you two were up to. Not a single soul. It’s your little secret. The thought makes you moan a little bit louder. Your hands grip hard on his shoulders. 

Bucky moans right next to your ear. “God, you feel so good.” His hands are gripping hard on your ass. “I wish I can stay inside you forever. I don’t wanna move. I don’t wanna go anywhere else. I just wanna keep fucking you, until you beg me to stop.” Does he know what his words do to you? Does he notice how it amplifies your orgasm? Or does he just say whatever he wants to say? “I’m gonna come.” He warns you. “I’m gonna come, baby. I’m gonna come.” 

You ride your orgasms together, as he empties himself inside you. His head falls on your shoulder while he keeps holding you. His lips press against the crook of your neck. While you keep taking deep breaths, you can feel his heart racing. 

“Are you okay?” He asks while moving away enough to take himself out of you.

“Okay?” You question as he gently puts you on your feet. “I feel amazing.” 

You lift yourself on your tiptoes and give him a full wet kiss. 

“Now I believe you.” He gives you a little smile that only makes you want to kiss him again.

“I’ll be louder when we go home so you won’t have an ounce of doubt.”

“Yours or mine?” His question comes instantly.

“I don’t care.” You really don’t. All you want is him. Where, when, and how are just details.

He helps you shape your hair back to normal while you pull the stripes up. Your underwear is a mess and you are dripping out already. Bucky takes a napkin out of his pocket and kneels in front of you. He gently pushes the serviette between your folds, cleaning you up enough so you can go back inside. 

“Thank you.” You love it when he takes care of you like this. “But you know that won’t be enough. I will keep dripping all night.” 

“I’m counting on that.” You can see on his face how much that thought excites him. “Keep dripping onto your underwear while talking to others. Remember what we did here. Imagine what we will do later.” He stands up while you fix your dress and you realize that you can’t wait to leave this party already.

“You have such a dirty mouth. I love it.” You grab his face with one hand and just force him to kiss you. Not that you can actually force him to do anything, but he lets you anyway. “Come on. Let’s go back.”

**

It’s been a while since you returned to the party. Everything seems normal. No one even realized you were absent. No one is suspecting anything. That encourages you to look around for Bucky. When your eyes meet, he gives you a teasing smile while casually chatting with Sam.

The whole night you didn’t say a word to him. Not around other people. But you don't see any reason to keep avoiding him. Everyone knows you two are friendly. So you decide to walk over and chat a little.

“Oh, look who remembered us!” Sam jokes as soon as he notices you.

“Hello to you too, Sam.” You don’t mind his teasing. “Good to see you missed me.”

“Hey.” Bucky raises his beer bottle to casually greet you. He probably got tired of the bourbon.

“How are you, fellas?”

“Oh you know, missions and drinks. Same stuff,” Bucky answers your question. 

“Nothing new?” You tease him, just to see how he would react.

“Nope. Just little old me doing the same things.”

“Really, I keep telling him to go on a date or something but no. He prefers this misery instead.”

You try to surpass a smile forming on your lips, well aware of the exact reason why he’s declining the offer.

While you’re staring at each other, Sam notices Steve on the other side of the room and raises his hand. 

“Hey, Rogers!”

That’s definitely the last thing you need tonight, but there’s no way you can stop Sam. Steve joins your group in a couple of seconds, but for some reason, he looks… kinda miserable.

“You alright, man?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He absently answers. “I’m fine. Feeling a bit under the weather.”

“Maybe that super serum is finally wearing off.” Sam jokes and it manages to make Steve smile for a second.

“How are you all?” Steve asks while looking at the whole group, but his eyes stay on you for a bit longer than the rest.

“Oh, we are fine. We were talking about the lack of Mr. Barnes’s dating life.”

God, he isn’t going to let that go, is he? 

“Speaking of dating…” Sam continues while taking his phone off. “I met this guy the other day and he’s perfect for you!” Is he talking to you? He shows you a photo of this blonde guy who honestly looks alright, but he’s practically a stranger. “He’s a good guy and he fits your type. I can give your his number if you want.”

“What the fuck, Sam?” Your response makes the rest laugh. “You are playing matchmaker now?”

“I mean… someone gotta do it and I was hoping you would find someone to return the favor for me.”

You look at Bucky just to see he’s kind of enjoying this while Steve looks thoughtful for some reason.

“That’s definitely not my type.”

“Really?” Sam side-eyes Steve for a second to see his reaction, but it’s like he already knew that. 

“And I am already seeing someone, so…”

“Wait a second!” Sam sounds surprised. “You are seeing someone? Since when?”

“Why are you so surprised? You thought I would inform you about my love life or something?” Bucky is laughing quietly on the side, and Sam looks a little uncomfortable.

“I don’t know. I thought you were single. You are already off the market, huh?”

Bucky subtly nods to his last comment but doesn’t say anything.

“Yeah, it seems so.” You put your drink on the nearest surface and stretch your neck a little. 

“Tired?” Bucky asks this time.

“Yes. I’m thinking about leaving. Maybe I should call an Uber or something.” You make a move to take your phone out.

“Actually… I was considering the same thing. I can drop you home, you can save up the money.”

“Really?” You didn’t expect him to offer to leave with you. Usually, one of you leaves first and the other follows, but maybe after tonight's events, he decided that there’s no reason to hide anymore. “Sure, that'd be great.”

You see Sam rolling his eyes. “There go hours of effort.”

“You wanted to leave before?” It’s obvious you are talking to Bucky.

“No, not really, but he assumes that and tries to talk me into staying every time.” You start to laugh. It’s not hard to imagine why Sam thinks he’d rather be somewhere else.

“Sorry, Sam, but we are old. Apparently we need more sleep.” You are mocking yourself and Bucky at the same time, wondering how he’ll react.

“He is old, but you… not so much.”

“My soul is old and that’s enough.” You raise both of your hands and wave a goodbye. “Anyways, time to go. Good to see both of you.” Your thumbs and index fingers move around like two guns pointed at Sam and Steve.

“Good night,” Bucky simply adds.

While you two quietly walk away, Sam is already suspecting something is up.

“Did I drink too much or is there something going on between them?” Sam asks when you are far enough not to hear it.

“They are together.” Steve tries to sound as casual as possible.

“Wait! Really?” He thought something was just blooming between you two, not a full on relationship. “How do you know?”

“I heard them.” Steve notices how it sounds and quickly adds: “Talking.”

“And you are okay with that?”

“Yeah, sure.” That doesn’t sound convincing at all. “It’s not my place to say anything. It was never that serious.” He isn’t sure if he’s trying to convince Sam or himself. “I mean… I think she’d want to get serious, but she talked about staying friends and I jumped on the opportunity and agreed because I didn’t want a relationship.”

Sam nods. “Well, good for them I guess. They seem like a good match.”

“They really do.”

[crownmemes]

Advice; Everyone Should Be Making the First Move

There's been a trend within the rpc here for years now where nobody is willing to make the first move. The problem with this is that if nobody ever makes the first move, then nobody is ever going to write anything. Considering that, everybody should be making an effort to be the first one to reach out to their writing partners more often.

Examples of making the first move:

Sending an IM to say hi, then suggesting a plot

Sending a meme to start a new thread

Responding to starter calls and open starters

All of this is just as valid for old partners as it is for new. If you haven't written with someone in a while, maybe it's time to reach out to start a new thread?

The most common reason I see for people not making the first move is social anxiety. I'm going to give you all a bit of tough love here: speaking as somebody who once had crippling social anxiety (and still does in irl settings), the best way to overcome it is to push yourself to try the things that make you anxious.

Communicating with people is a really important part of rp because it's not a solo hobby, therefore you are going to have to talk to people at some point. It's unavoidable. Here are a few reminders to help you feel a little less nervous:

If somebody follows back, they're doing it because they're interested in writing with you. They are not going to be upset if you send them an IM with plot ideas

Most people are friendly! In 12 years of rping on this site, I can count on one hand the number of people who I've talked to that were actively rude to me

It's okay if someone says no to you! People have different styles and not all of them will work together. If someone says no, say thank you for the consideration, then move on. There are more people to write with out there

If somebody is nasty to you, you can block them. Don't be afraid to do this; you don't have to explain yourself, and you wouldn't want to write with someone who's rude to you anyway

If you're not sure what to say, I usually go with a version of "Hello! Thank you for following/following back! I've looked through your rules and about pages. Would you be interested in plotting something for X and my character, Y? I have an idea already, if you would like to hear?"

Don't just say "Hi!". Cut to the chase and tell them why you're messaging so they immediately know what the conversation is about

Reasons why it's good to message first:

You look actively interested in writing. This is a huge boost in your favour when it comes to asking to write with someone

It makes it a lot easier to get new interactions

It makes you appear more active

If you're a new blog, you won't have a lot of examples of your writing on your blog yet. People will be more willing to give you a chance if you approach them first

If you don't message first, you are likely to be waiting a long time before somebody messages you

It's easier to make friends if you have an active conversation!

Some other thoughts on messaging first:

You have followed the person because you are interested in writing with them. Think about why you are interested, and suggest this as a plot idea

Make sure you read through the rules still. It's very obvious when you haven't. Also, look through the muses on offer so you can suggest which you'd like to write with

If the rules say they're not mutuals only, or that you're welcome to IM to introduce yourself if you want to plot, don't be afraid to message. They wouldn't have put that in their rules if they didn't mean it

If someone is reblogging memes, it's because they want to write responses to them. Send them in! If they didn't want them sent in, they wouldn't have reblogged the meme

IMing to plot is often a better idea than liking a starter call or sending memes if you have never interacted with the person before. It gives you a chance to work out what kind of thread would work well before you start something, so the resulting thread has a lower chance of fizzling out quickly

However, all that being said, it's not just up to the person messaging first to make all the effort. If the receiver doesn't put any effort in in return, then the person making the first move is going to think they aren't interested. Eventually, they may give up messaging people at all, because what's the point if it never goes anywhere? Some tips for not seeming uninterested:

If someone IMs you, try to reply to them in a timely fashion. Especially try to reply to them if they sent you a plot idea. You don't have to agree to do the idea - it's just very annoying to be ghosted the second you actually start plotting

Suggest your own plot ideas in return, or build on the idea that the other person has given you

If you agree to write a starter, or one is written for you, follow through with it. Write the starter, reply to the thread. If it's going to take a while, let your writing partner know that you've seen it but you're going to be slow for a while

Similarly, if you post memes, reply to the ones people send you. If you never reply, people will pick up on this and eventually stop sending you things

If you go on hiatus, message your writing partners directly when you get back to let them know you'd like to write again. This will demonstrate that you really are active and ready to write again

[theharrowing]

Collateral 🗡️ 22: I just need a chance to breathe

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Female Reader

🗡️ word count: 15.9k

🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+ 

🗡️warnings: explicit smut (mention of sex & using a dildo; oral sex; ass eating; threesome; talk of anal & double-penetration but not actually doing it; multiple orgasms, cum eating) messy emotions (because, of course); fireworks used to scare characters (to simulate firearms and/or explosions); anxiety; mention of nightmares; the return of some familiar faces & introduction of new ones.

🗡️ a friendly reminder: if there is anything in the tags that may cause you emotional distress to read, please take care of your mental health and don't push yourself. as with any of my updates/warnings, if you would like to skip over a particular warning, please private message me and i can tell you where to begin and end skipping, as well as give you a rundown of what happens in that section.

🗡️note: wow. hello, friends. it's been a long time since i have come to you with a full chapter. are you ready??? did you know that i decided to turn mc's ex into an actually character??? hehehe. enjoyyy!!!

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🗡️ posted on may, 2024 | read on ao3

My Namjoon,

I often dream of you lying in a field of wildflowers. Your body is sunken into green stems and purple petals, which blow gently in the breeze, creating a perfect you-shaped indent. You wear all white with your hands behind your head—relaxed and serene, without a care in the world. 

In my dream, time passes quickly, and the sun always falls, shrouding you in darkness while blotches cover your perfect white clothing and begin to turn deep, blood-red.

I wake up feeling suffocated. I wake up afraid.

My Yoongi,

Your blood is on my hands in my dreams and in the waking world. I know you do not blame me, but the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach. I hope one day I will be able to look you in the eye and not feel so ashamed. 

In your arms, I feel like a queen. I feel like I am on top of the entire world. Nobody has ever given that to me before, and nobody could ever come close. 

It is not the height that I fear so badly but the fall back to earth.

My men, 

The last few months have felt like a whirlwind…they have felt like a hundred years. I hardly remember the person I was before I stepped foot in the mansion. Worst of all, I hardly know the person I have become. 

Please don't blame yourselves for my need to break free. The two of you promised to give me the world, and I know with my whole heart that you meant it. You showed me more than once a taste of what that could feel like. 

But I fear I am not meant for this world. I fear that all of the joy and the money and the trips and the jewelry and the champagne and the drugs will only mask the fear and the anguish and the nightmares and the dread. My physical health and my mental health are deteriorating before all of our eyes, and I don't know what to do.

You told me that the only way out of this lifestyle is death, and I can't stick around and watch that happen. I know it makes me a coward. I know that leaving with my tail between my legs in order to protect myself will only cause the three of us pain, but I trust that the two of you will get through anything. 

I am not yet ready to say goodbye because I don't want this to be the last thing I say to you two. Maybe I just need a chance to breathe. 

Some day, if all the stars align just right, will you meet me under the aurora borealis?

♡ Your Sweetheart, Your Darling, Your Love

* * *

9 hours earlier.

You lay in a heap of black satin, sweat, and cum, struggling to catch your breath. From the other room, water runs and then stops, and footsteps approach, making you smile. 

"Thirsty?" Jeongguk asks.

All you can say in response is a broken hum. You are parched, but the idea of moving your body after what he just put it through feels impossible. 

Jeongguk chuckles, and the bed dips as he asks, "Like your gift that much, huh?"

The birthday present that Jeongguk was so unwilling to allow you to unwrap at your party is a purple, glittery silicone mold of his dick. And although nothing could beat the original, you tore out of your clothes the moment you saw it, eager to try it. 

"One day we'll anal train you so you can take both of my cocks at once," Jeongguk growled in your ear, holding you by the throat while your back bowed and he fucked you cross-eyed with the toy. 

This is not how you expected your day to go after waking up to a fainting spell and visiting Taehyung's basement hospital. After the way you spiraled in Jimin's coma bed, you have not been able to return home and face Yoongi and Namjoon. 

Nor have you been checking your phone. Everything just feels like too much, and if you are not able to drink or do drugs, then you need the next best thing. 

Luckily for you, Jeongguk is more than eager to supply you with all the orgasms you could ever ask for. 

Unfortunately, he is also eager to talk about shit and destroy this perfect distraction. 

"When are you going to head back home?" he asks, flopping down beside you and draping limbs over your body. Your sweat has begun to turn cold, and you roll toward him, seeking warmth.

"I don't know," you respond flatly. 

A tinge of sadness works its way into your lungs, causing you to choke. It is not as if you are doing anything behind anyone's back, but you still feel somewhat guilty. 

Earlier, while at Taehyung's house, Jeongguk asked his hyungs if they wouldn't mind you swinging by his place to open your gift, and based on their grins and winks, they not only knew what it was, but they expected you to want to play. 

Yoongi saying, "Have fun, you two," with a playful little smirk sealed the deal. 

You do not feel guilty for lying in Jeongguk's bed all fucked out and exhausted. Rather, you feel a preemptive guilt for all the things left unsaid, and all there is yet to do. 

Jeongguk sighs and repositions so that his arms are around you, laying on his side and pulling you into him. You close your eyes and let out a deep exhale, and in the silence between breaths, you make a choice. 

"I guess I should go," you mutter. 

Jeongguk grumbles and hugs tighter, and you allow yourself to be held a few moments longer. You really are going to miss this. 

The urge to cry sneaks up, and you take a deep breath and hold it, then begin to wiggle from Jeongguk's arms. There is absolutely no way you are going to allow him to see you cry again. 

Only you cannot help it. You think about Jimin lying in a coma and how you whispered your goodbyes with a kiss to his cheek. 

You think about leaving Jeongguk here in his bed without granting him a proper goodbye. Would it be rude to take the toy cock with you as a souvenir? There is no way you are not going to.

As you detangle your limbs and sit up, tears fall. You tremble and attempt to breathe through it, but Jeongguk is sitting up in a flash, tilting his head to get a look at your face.

"Stop," you warn, holding your hand up as if to block whatever he might say.

"Stop what?" he asks with a concerned tone.

"Don't call attention to it. I don't want to talk about it."

"Doll—"

You sigh and shake your head. "Please. Please don't make me explain myself."

Silence hangs, then he asks, "Are you alright?"

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. 

"No."

"What do you need?"

You shrug. "Taehyung says I need a vacation, so I think I am going to take one."

"And that's why you're crying?"

Although Jeongguk's tone is sympathetic, you fight the urge to smack him. 

"I just have a lot of thoughts and feelings, okay? Is that okay?" 

You do not mean to snap, and you even attempt to chuckle through your words. But your tears must make your conviction seem as weak as it feels because Jeongguk simply watches you with a frown.

"It sucks to admit that I can't handle this," you mutter, worried you may have said too much but finding it impossible to keep everything bottled up.

"So, then…what if a vacation isn't enough?" Jeongguk asks.

You wish he wouldn't ask that. Why is Jeongguk, of all fucking people, so in tune with what you are thinking?

You shrug once more. "Then I guess I have to think of a new plan."

Jeongguk hums and wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Where will you go?"

Where will you go? Over and over, you have asked yourself this question. But you really have no idea. Wherever Seokjin can send you, you suppose.

"Not sure."

"Alright, well," Jeongguk sighs, "I'll be sure to find you. Wherever you end up…I'll show up."

This makes you chuckle. It is a nice gesture, but it also feels foolish. Jeongguk is not in the position to make such lofty promises, nor would you ever dream of him asking to.

"Jeongguk, what are you talking about?"

"I mean it," he responds, matter-of-factly. "I will find you. You can't just get rid of me, even if you leave the rest of the family behind. I need to be sure that you are okay."

What he says is sweet, but it is too much. You groan and begin to shrug-wiggle out of Jeongguk's hold, then scoot along the bed until you reach the edge and slide off. Your feet hit a soft rug, and you wander around finding your clothing articles, which have been tossed onto the chairs and floor. 

"It's nice of you to say that," you respond, glancing over your shoulder.

Jeongguk sits naked with his legs pretzeled and his back slumped forward, eyes on you with a slight frown tugging his pretty lips. You feel the urge to tip-toe over and kiss the expression from his face, but you hold back, getting dressed instead. 

"Yoongi-hyung won't take it very well if you leave for good," Jeongguk mutters. 

This is not a conversation you want to have, and you take a steady breath before standing straight, doing your best to lie as you say, "I'll try not to leave for good."

* * *

As you walk past Seokjin's mansion, you feel the urge to take a detour and knock on his door. If he weren't such a busy man who likely will not be home at this hour, you would. But instead, you continue toward the mansion.

It is the early evening, but already the sun is setting and you do not want to make your way back in the dark, safe as these paths may be. And you do not want to explain why you are being escorted home by Seokjin, should you find him at his doorstep and talk until it is dark enough that you feel the urge to ask for company. 

The tall trees and shrub walls create deep shadows that appear somewhat menacing in the glow of the property security lights, and it is fucking creepy. Even with the sun still providing hints of light, you grip tightly to the satin ribbon straps of your gift bag and shiver your shoulders up to your ears.

With each step, the leaves and gravel are louder and crunchier than usual. It feels like a mockery the way each sound causes your hair to stand on edge. Especially as you approach your home and realize you have never been granted access to enter on your own. Hard to sneak in when you need to ask permission.

You sigh and pull out your phone, relieved to see that there are no missed calls or texts, and you thumb around to find Yoongi's contact. He picks up on the second ring.

"Hello, darling."

Yoongi's voice is bright and chipper, which is a relief.

"Hey. I'm heading back, and I need to be let inside."

Yoongi chuckles and inhales sharply, then he says, in a voice that is strained in the way a voice gets when someone is talking while holding in their breath, "We're actually outside smoking." He exhales, then adds, "See you in a bit?"

"Oh," you mutter. Now that he mentions it, you do smell the distinct stench of weed, and as you come out of the clearing, you can vaguely make out the shapes of Yoongi and Namjoon standing on the stoop. You smile and say, "Right now, actually."

Yoongi hums, then looks from where he and Namjoon stand in front of the door, to you. Without ending the call, you slide your phone into the pocket of your hoodie—the oversized black one that Jeongguk let you borrow several days ago that you have decided never to return. You smile, feeling a bit of a pep in your step, which falters once you remember what you must do. 

"Darling!" Yoongi calls, holding his arms wide. "Perfect timing. Namjoon and I were craving sushi. Come along?"

Both men wear their standard black uniform, and Yoongi has a black jacket on, as well. Namjoon takes a hit from a joint that is so small, he has to hold it with the very tips of his finger and thumb. As he tilts his head upward and exhales a plume of smoke, Yoongi begins to walk toward you in slow, measured steps. 

"Do I need to change clothes?" you ask because as much as you are hungry, you really do not want to put on a dress. 

Yoongi shrugs, eyes up your stolen hoodie and tight black leggings and shrugs. "If you are comfortable this way, that is fine with me."

You actually expected to have to plead your case, and you are surprised by how amiable Yoongi is. Perhaps he is too hungry to wait for you to change. Or he is starting to calm down about how the public perceives you. 

"Alright," you say, gripping onto the handle of your gift bag. 

Namjoon takes one more hit from the joint and mutters something difficult to hear—you think he asks Yoongi if he wants more of the weed. Yoongi turns to Namjoon and shakes his head, and Namjoon flicks it into the driveway without asking if you want any. You would have said no, anyway.

"Shall we, then?" Yoongi asks, and you nod. 

Namjoon takes a few steps toward Yoongi and kisses him on the side of the head, causing Yoongi to chuckle and turn to Namjoon to press their lips together. Then they speak about something you cannot hear, and Namjoon turns to go into the mansion. 

"He wants to drive your car," Yoongi informs you with a smile. 

The drive into the city is smooth. Namjoon is quiet most of the time, but Yoongi seems to speak at him about this and that—you aren’t really sure. His voice is just hushed enough that it is hard to make out over the soft radio, and you do not strain to listen, enjoying the backseat all to yourself. 

Namjoon drives to a restaurant the three of you have been to before and hands the keys over to the valet attendant. Inside, the hostess bows, then frowns. 

“Oh, mister Min,” she says, glancing around worried. “The private room is occupied at the moment.”

When you turn to Yoongi, there is a hint of a frown on his face, and he squints slightly at the woman. “Occupied?”

The woman nods and drops her gaze down to the wooden hostess podium. 

“My private room is occupied? Interesting.”

The woman looks afraid, eyes scanning around uselessly. She opens her mouth and fumbles around, “I could—we could remove them—I could ask them—“

“A corner booth is fine,” Yoongi says sternly, glancing around the lively, open space. “No windows, please. With a view of the front door.”

“Yes, sir,” The hostess responds, grabbing three menu books with shaking hands. “Right this way, sir.”

“Who has my room?” Yoongi asks before the woman steps away from her podium. 

It is clear that she would ordinarily not give out this kind of information, and she stammers once more, saying, “Y-Yu, sir.”

“Yu?” Yoongi asks, cocking his head. He looks from Namjoon to you, and Namjoon shrugs. 

You only know one person with the name Yu, and it is hard to imagine him dining at a place like this, much less in a room Yoongi keeps on reserve. The last time you saw him, Yoongi had him on his knees at the Han River with a switchblade to his throat. What business would he have here?

The hostess leads the three of you through the restaurant, to a booth in the far corner. Several people look up, and you can hear murmuring as you walk past. You wish you had changed into something a little nicer than a hoodie and leggings, but hold your chin up and follow along. 

The restaurant is just dimly lit enough to feel cozy, but the gold sconces and expensive crystal décor give its opulence away. You can tell this is one of Yoongi's restaurants because the design style is a bit mismatched from what you would expect anywhere else—an amalgamation of comfort and wealth. 

The booth you approach is a horseshoe with a red fabric seat that wraps around a dark wood circular table. Yoongi motions for you to sit first, and you do so, sliding in toward the middle. 

Then he joins you, scooting close and draping his arm over the seat back behind you. Namjoon sits on the other side but keeps some distance, much to your chagrin. 

You understand why Namjoon is distant in public, but you wish it did not have to be this way. It is so nice when the three of you can openly be affectionate. And especially considering this may be the last time the three of you dine…at least, for a while…

Under the table, Yoongi grabs onto your left hand and pulls it onto his lap, pushing his hand into your sweater paw. You glance over the menu, not really paying attention until you feel cold metal on your ring finger and your sleeve getting shoved up to your wrist. 

"You brought it with you?" you tease, glancing at your hand in Yoongi's lap and the giant engagement ring that it sports.

"Just in case," he says, looking at his own menu and rubbing your palm with his thumb. 

It occurs to you that once you do leave, news will undoubtedly spread. Although it may be reasonable to say you are on vacation, how long will that excuse be believable? What will the public whisper about once you are gone for a long time? Especially after Yoongi threw such an extravagant, public birthday party for you, it is hard to imagine the voices won't whisper far and wide. 

Guilt and worry cannot stop you from going through with your plan, and you tell yourself this over and over. No matter how fondly you may feel for these men, you need to stay strong for yourself.

When a server comes by to take everyone's order, you keep your head down. Yoongi and Namjoon confer over items they seem to always get, and you nod along in agreement. 

"Darling?" Yoongi asks when the server leaves, lightly gripping your right thigh and giving it a squeeze. "Something the matter?"

With a shrug, you shake your head and attempt to smile. "I'm just tired, I guess. And stressed about the whole fainting thing."

"Ah, yes," Yoongi responds, thumb rubbing firm circles just above your knee. "Perhaps I should have only ordered one bottle of sake."

"I would like to have a little," you pout. 

Yoongi leans close and presses a kiss against your temple. Instinctively, you close your eyes. 

"As long as you drink more water than alcohol, I will not try to stop you."

Namjoon cuts through the moment, asking, "Did the hostess say someone named Yu was in our room?"

Yoongi sits up tall, looking over you to hum in agreement.

You turn to find Namjoon seated with his arms slung over the back of the booth, somewhat relaxed despite the worried look on his face. He locks eyes with you and asks, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

You are, but there is no plausible way it could be him. Still, you nod. 

"What would he be doing in our room?" he asks. 

Yoongi chuckles. "Yu is not that uncommon of a name."

"He would have had to have convinced the hostess that he knows you," Namjoon says, staring ahead at the table. "Is there anyone on any of our teams who would know to do that?"

"I am certain that there are plenty of people with that name who run drugs or work security," Yoongi responds, sounding bored. "Or who works at one of the hotels, a casino, one of my restaurants. Hell, they might even work at this restaurant. It is not uncommon for people to use my name. Rarely have I managed to catch someone in the act, but I am certain that it must happen all the time."

"I'm surprised you didn't march back there to see who it is," Namjoon somewhat mutters, sending you a wink when you smile at him. 

Yoongi sighs. "I suppose I lack the energy."

Namjoon hums, and you wish Yoongi would elaborate, but you surmise that it may be for the best that he does not. You do worry that perhaps he can sense something is off with your behavior—beyond tiredness and general worry—which, in turn, is worrying him. But the Yoongi you know would come right out and discuss any pressing matters with you, so you brush the thought away.

A server brings two bottles of sake and three tall glasses of water. You reach for a glass of water while Yoongi gets to pouring sake. 

You are shocked that appetizers and entrees are already brought out. Small plates of dumplings, sashimi, and sushi slowly fill the table. And although you have barely eaten all day, you only nibble on a savory pan-fried dumpling while the men eat around you. 

You cannot help but dwell on what Namjoon was saying moments ago, and you are surprised Yoongi is so dismissive of the notion. Your ex has the last name Yu. And if there is anyone on this peninsula who may have a bone to pick with Yoongi, he is likely high on that list. 

That is, if he actually felt some type of way about losing you, which you are not entirely sure could be the case. Things between the two of you had not been great for months—even years—leading up to Yoongi collecting you from him as collateral. 

But there was often talk of reconnecting and building a future together. And although you more or less ignored his ideas, disinterested in the thought of building anything with him, he seemed pretty serious. Could he have continued to love you when the two of you parted?

Although your appetite is subdued by anxiety, you do your best to eat, slowly chewing on a piece of sushi and sipping on sake. Yoongi and Namjoon discuss an upcoming meeting with Seokjin, and you stare at the off-white tablecloth and attempt to gather your thoughts. 

You are reminded of your need to meet with Seokjin. But when would be a good time? How soon would you be able to get out of the mansion?

Each time you reach with your left hand and the diamond glitters in the overhead light, you feel a tinge of sadness. It nearly makes you want to reconsider, but you remind yourself that even if, by some miracle, you and Yoongi and Namjoon are meant to make any of this work out, it needs to be on your terms, after you have had a chance to breathe. 

You consider all the places Seokjin might send you. After all, Busan seems like too much of a gamble. Yoongi and the girls managed to reach an agreement of sorts—but what if sending you there starts an all-out war?

And if your ex truly is suddenly back in the picture—

"Well, well," a man's voice cuts through the conversation between Yoongi and Namjoon and interrupts your thoughts. "What have we here?"

The familiarity of this voice causes an icy chill to cover you. Somehow simultaneously bright and deep, with an accented lilt—it is a voice you heard for years. Still, your mind struggles to reconcile the situation, despite already conspiring over the thought that he might be here tonight. 

Your eyes trail up, confirming that the man standing before the table is, indeed, your ex. Christian looks…different. To put it lightly.

The last time you saw him, his style was kind of basic and not very exciting. He liked light-colored button-ups and ripped jeans, sneakers, and simple, casual clothing, sticking mainly to earth tones. And his dark hair was always trimmed and styled neatly.

But now Christian stands before you with his hair grown, falling over his eyes. He has black eyeshadow covering the entire lid and under each eye, with hints of red glowing from the edges, all smudged together like messy bruises. Little black crosses are drawn on his cheeks, and his lips are blotted with dark, messy red. 

A red button-up shirt and black tie accentuate a black suit with silver pinstripes. The knot of his tie is encased in a gold cover with stars on the front and spikes coming from the sides, and his hands are in black mesh gloves. 

Most curious of all, he is not cowering and afraid. He stands tall and assured, like a completely different person. 

Behind him are four men, all around his height, wearing crisp black suits with white button-up shirts underneath. Covering their heads are black balaclavas that show only their eyes and lips, and their hands are clad in black leather.

"Ah, I see the circus is in town," Yoongi chides with a snarl, sitting up tall. 

Nervous, you look between Yoongi and Namjoon, then back at Christian, who glares down at you with a smirk. 

"Fellas," Christian says, looking at Namjoon before rolling his eyes to glance at Yoongi. "I could not have planned this better if I tried. What are the odds?"

"And was that you in my private room?" Yoongi asks.

Christian's smirk widens into a grin.  

Yoongi sighs, then scoots forward, pushing the plates of food that rest just in front of him to the side. He sits up even higher and plants his elbows on the table, waving his hands slowly as he speaks. "You can see that we are busy, so please just tell me what you want."

Christian's eyes drop to the table as he turns to one of the men behind him and grabs onto a black briefcase. Fear spikes as you imagine a number of terrible things that could happen while he sets it on the edge of the table and opens it. You even notice from the corner of your eye as Namjoon's hand begins to reach behind his back to where you assume he has a handgun stashed. 

But when Christian spins the case, it contains stacks of notes, neatly organized in rows and columns with colorful rubber bands. His eyes lift to you, and he smiles for a split moment. 

Then he says, "I've come to pay off my debt," and his face turns stone-cold serious. 

At this, you scoff. To your right, Yoongi begins to laugh, and to your left, Namjoon scoots forward, sitting up straight. Christian hardly blinks. 

"It's all there," Christian drawls slowly, staring daggers into Yoongi. "I even added some interest."

You turn to Yoongi in time to see him roll his eyes. His hair is tucked behind his ears, and his glare is just as piercing as that of his adversary. 

"You did not really think she would just go back to you, did you?" he asks. 

"You don't really think I'm asking, do you?" Christian responds.

At this, you click your tongue against your teeth. "Excuse me?"

Christian leans with his fists against the table, somewhat leveling his eyes with yours despite looming much taller. "I know these thugs likely gaslit you into thinking that their exorbitant amounts of money were a replacement for love. I bet they stockholm-syndrome'd you real good after kidnapping you last spring. But with therapy and different lifestyle choices, you can return to the woman you were before all of that happened to you."

This infuriates you. For one thing, how dare this man show up out of nowhere and so grossly define a relationship that has grown over months and become something that has made you actually believe in love. 

For another thing, how fucking dare he not be entirely wrong. 

It occurs to you that this could be your way out. But going back into Christian's arms does not feel like the correct choice. You were unhappy in that relationship and coasting along before Yoongi and his men swept you away, so to speak. 

Sure, you allowed him to take you out to nice restaurants and buy every little designer thing the two of you desired. But that just makes that relationship as loveless and empty as he is trying to accuse your current relationship of being. 

Not to mention, this man who stands before you is not your ex-boyfriend, as you knew him. He looks and carries himself in a way that is almost unrecognizable.

"Don't you fucking dare," you say almost under your breath. 

Christian does not break eye contact, and you hate the way sadness yanks at his expression in a soft, familiar way. 

"Come on, baby," he pleads. "You don't have to pretend to be happy anymore. I saw how uncomfortable you looked at your birthday party. And when you disappeared for a long time and came back all pale and zoned out…something was clearly wrong. We can get you the help you need."

Anxiety and frustration spikes. You almost feel ashamed when you ask, "You were there?"

It is eerie the way Christian regards you so calmly. Gone is the nervous man who dragged you along hotel hallways trying to escape. However, the way he looks at you has only changed into something sweeter. It is as if he truly has continued to love you in your absence. 

"Look, whatever you've been through," Christian continues, eyebrows knit and pleading, "you don't have to tell me. I won't ask questions. Let me just…get you out of here. Please."

Yoongi sighs and drops his chin onto his hands. When you turn to him, you watch him shrug, lift a brow to you, and say, "You know that you are free to go if that is the life you want. Nobody is shackling you here."

And although you understand what Yoongi is doing—although you want more than anything to run far away—the way in which Yoongi appears so bored and unconcerned only causes your anger to grow.

Your jaw twitches to the side, and you run the tip of your tongue between your teeth, feeling every groove of bone. This should be an easy choice, but you feel paralyzed by indecision.

With a sigh, you blink Christian into focus. He looks so hopeful, it nearly tugs at your heartstrings. Nearly.

"You can see that we are eating, Christian," you insist. "Please don't force us to call security."

Christian scoffs and stands up straight. The men behind him are stiff as boards. 

"You're causing a scene," you continue, voice flat and insincere. "I don't like to think that the other guests are uncomfortable with this display. We can discuss this in a more private setting."

Something like hope flashes in Christian's eyes, and you hate the way it makes your tummy swoop. His mesh-gloved hands fidget before he shoves them into the pockets of his pinstripe slacks. 

"Can I have your number?" he asks, voice lilted with excitement.

Your voice remains flat. "No. I can find you."

With a confused twitch of his features, Christian mutters, "B-but…how?"

"Make it easy for me," you respond with a shrug.

After all, you know Christian's name, what usernames he has used online, and so many other intimate details. If you really did want to find him, you easily could.

"Alright," Christian says, nodding. He takes a step back, causing the small group of men to do the same.

"Take the money," you say, watching him intently, unwilling to break eye contact in a show of dominance. "We'll settle this matter privately."

Christian nods, reaches for the briefcase, and snaps the clasps closed. "I hope to hear from you soon," he says, gaze lingering before he turns to walk off.

As you watch the small group of men clad in all black disappear through the front entrance of the restaurant, your mind struggles to comprehend anything that has just occurred. 

What are the odds that Christian just so happened to be at this restaurant? There is no way it could be a coincidence. 

A warm hand rubs over the small of your back, and you flinch, muttering, "Fuck," under your breath. Namjoon sits forward and continues to eat, and with one hand caressing you, Yoongi does the same. 

"My appetite is ruined," you state plainly, eyes on the front door. You half expect your ex to come walking back in to continue to plead for you to leave with him. 

Yoongi hums and Namjoon is silent, save for chewing. You feel like you are going insane.

How is it that Christian has managed to keep tabs on you? What was he doing at your birthday party? You rack your mind trying to place him there—could you have run into him? Would you have known? What if he was one of the gold-clad workers hiding in plain sight, watching your every move? 

What if he has been lurking even longer, watching you at Paradise? At House of Cards? How much has he seen?

"I'm shocked he managed to come up with the cash," Namjoon finally mutters as he fills everyone's glass with sake.

Without waiting for the others, you pick up your small glass and shoot the liquid back. Then you set the glass down, reach for your water, and take a nice big gulp. The water is cold and you feel it work its way down into your body, causing a chill to run along your spine. 

"Should have castrated him like I promised," Yoongi jokes dryly. 

Your stomach churns, made worse by how nobody seems all that concerned about how you must be feeling. Neither of them brings up the fact that you promised to look him up, even as a means to pick on you.

"How did he get into my party?" you ask, voice as flat as it had been before. 

"Maybe he's managed to weasel his way back onto one of the teams," Namjoon responds with a full mouth.

"Would have had to have been after Jeongguk stepped down," Yoongi adds. "Unless he has one of the hospitality positions."

"Maybe he works at the hotel," Namjoon says.

You sigh, fed up with this conversation. 

"Did you not keep tabs on him?" you ask, turning to Yoongi with an accusatory glare. If this is anyone's fault, it has to be his. 

Yoongi blinks, then shrugs. "People go off the map all the time. He could have changed his name, for all we know. Maybe he uses a Korean name to get work."

You hum and sit back, slouched uncomfortably against the booth. Yoongi removes his hand from your back and continues to eat, using his newly free hand to lift his small glass of sake to his lips.

There is a chance Christian goes by the name Barom. It is a name only his mother calls him on occasion, but you would not put it past him to use it on identification cards, especially as a means to slip under the radar. 

That could explain his disappearing act, if there ever was one. But Yoongi's team should have noticed. Or, perhaps, Seokjin already has. In fact, you become convinced that Seokjin must know something. It is the only circumstance that makes sense. 

Seokjin must have overheard Yoongi and Namjoon discussing coming here tonight and he tipped Christian off. Maybe he thinks this is a good way for you to make a break for it. Maybe it is all a setup and Christian no longer wants anything to do with you but he is playing some part you do not fully understand.

But if that is the case, why wouldn't Seokjin tell you? 

You sit in silence for the rest of the meal, refusing more food and drink with a wave of your hand and a shake of your head. Namjoon goes ahead to retrieve your car from the valet attendant, and Yoongi pulls the hostess aside to inquire more about Christian's appearance while you stand near the front door, scowling out into the evening. 

The moment Namjoon slips behind the wheel of your car, you shove the restaurant door open and stomp up to the back door with a huff, opting not to respond when Namjoon looks back at you in the rearview mirror and asks, "Do you want to talk about anything?"

Yoongi gets into the passenger seat, mutters, "She was just as stumped as we were," and with that, the three of you are off. 

You pull your phone from your pocket and open instagram, type the username ChristianYu, and turn up with nothing. After a pause, you consider he may be using his Korean name, so you search for BaromYu and find him. Although he has not posted a lot since the last time you visited his account months and months ago, all of his posts show a transition from the man you knew to the man you met today. 

In his photos, he is shirtless more often than not, showing off his many new tattoos and accessories. And in the comments, people fawn over him, writing embarrassingly lewd confessions and using a lot of tongue and water drop emoji. 

Nothing hints at what he could be doing for work, but his follower count has exploded—he is quite the popular man. He never posts his location, nor does he make vague references to any kind of job in any of his posts or responses, and nobody seems to care about much but his face and body.

The only thing that may pass as a hint of any sort is the fact that some commenters call him Mister Insanity. But what that could possibly mean, you have no idea. He did seem to have a small group of goons, but it is hard to imagine him as the leader of anything. 

Namjoon pulls into the driveway, and you turn off your phone screen. You are not going to rest until you speak to Seokjin, and you hope that he is home at this hour. 

You grab the gift bag that has Jeongguk's dick dildo in it from where it had been left behind the passenger seat, and then get out of the car, shoving the bag into Yoongi's hands. 

"Take this inside," you say, turning toward the dark path that connects the properties. "I need to talk to Seokjin."

"Seokjin?" Yoongi asks. "He might not be free at this hour."

"I'll go find out," you insist, turning away before Yoongi or Namjoon can stop you. To your surprise, neither of them tries to follow behind. 

Once you are on the path that leads between driveways, you unlock your phone and search for a name you have never called before, and then you call him. It rings and rings, taunting you with its robotic tone before going to voicemail. This is Seokjin. Leave a message. You hang up.

Each footfall stomps harder than the last as you march on, feeling small amongst the tall shadows. The cooling night air sends a chill through you—all the more reason to walk even faster. 

There is a light on in one of the second-floor windows, and you storm up to the front door and press frantically on the doorbell. Of course, the door is reinforced enough that even if someone were to be running to the door on the other side, you would have no way of hearing it. 

However, you do not take Seokjin for being the type to run. 

Still, you feel impatient, and you take to pounding your fist against the door, feeling the impact of armored wood against the side of your hand, hard and visceral—stinging. When the door finally flies open, you pay no mind to the gun pointed at your forehead, fist still in the air. 

Seokjin stands shirtless in a pair of black silk pants, and the moment he recognizes you, he sighs and drops the gun to his side, muttering, "Good fucking god."

"We need to talk," you insist, stepping through the threshold despite not being invited to do so.

"I was in the middle of something," Seokjin says, stepping aside. 

You kick out of your shoes as he closes the door calmly behind you, and you allow yourself a brief moment to take in his appearance—hair disheveled, body covered in sweat. Seokjin turns and lifts a hand, silently encouraging you to enter further into the home, and you notice scratch marks along his arms and a sliver of his back—deep pink and raised. 

"So you were," you respond. 

Seokjin sighs and walks toward his staircase, showing off even more long, deep scratch marks. "Give me a moment; I need to tend to something. Help yourself to a drink if you would like."

You walk through the living room and turn the corner to the conjoined dining area and kitchen. Seokjin and Hoseok keep a tidy home, and you marvel at the rich woods and antique furnishings. Their refrigerator is a massive black appliance, and you pull the rightmost door open and notice a healthy store of plastic food containers, fresh fruits and vegetables, and bottles of soju.

Helping yourself to a bottle of clear, unflavored soju, you close the fridge door and crack the lid open, forgoing a glass. One sip is cold enough to send a shiver through you, and you gulp more, eager to calm your nerves before remembering once more that Taehyung has advised you against drinking. 

Footsteps retreat down the stairs, and you find Seokjin pulling a black t-shirt over his head. Seeing him dressed down is somewhat surprising, and although you were too on edge to take note of his broad, muscular build moments ago, you notice him now. 

The suits and dress shirts Seokjin wears cover a lot. Although he is leaner than Namjoon, his arms are defined, flexing as he adjusts his garment and reaches into his silk pants pocket to pull out his phone. 

"Is this about Barom?" Seokjin asks, fixing you with a gaze that gives away absolutely nothing. 

You take another gulp of soju, then let both arms hang at your sides, limp and defeated. "So you did put him up to it?"

"Oh?" Seokjin asks, raising an eyebrow. "You mean to say you detected my involvement?"

"I had a hunch," you mutter, frustrated.

"I knew you were smart enough to catch on," Seokjin says as he crosses his arms over his chest, shoulders and biceps flexing. He watches you with just as blank of an expression, not giving you a chance to respond before saying, "He works for me now."

You wish you were surprised. "Doing what?"

Seokjin cracks a smirk. "Whatever I need him to."

You sigh and take another drink of the soju, letting it settle on your tongue. When Seokjin gives you no further information, you raise your own fucking eyebrows—two can play at this game. 

"Seokjin, why did my ex show up to dinner with a briefcase of cash offering to buy my freedom?"

"Did he?" Seokjin asks, voice elated and surprised. 

You roll your eyes. "I know you put him up to it. Drop the act."

"You are far more clever than any of these men give you credit for," Seokjin says. "But not me. I never doubted you."

You sigh, feeling impatient. "Seokjin—"

"Did seeing your ex make you want to run away?" Seokjin asks. 

You hate to admit that the answer is yes, and you hum and nod just once. 

"So?" he asks. "Will you?"

"Taehyung says I need a vacation," you respond stubbornly. 

"Well, have you begun to pack a bag? I hear Busan is very chilly this time of year, so you will want to be sure to include some heavy clothes."

"No," you mutter. "I have been busy tending to other matters." Seokjin's mouth opens and he gives you a curious gaze, but you cut him off, adding, "And Yoongi is so on edge, I'm not sure leaving right now would be wise."

Seokjin hums. "I think he's especially on edge today because he proposed to you last night and you had a panic attack."

His flat, matter-of-fact tone makes you laugh. It rocks through your chest before you can stop yourself, and you shake your head, allowing the laughter to fall. 

"What does he fucking expect?" you mutter. "He knows how miserable I am in his mansion. How was I supposed to react to a proposal? If he has any concern about the way I feel, he should not have done something like that."

"Yes, I agree," Seokjin responds as he approaches and reaches for the bottle of soju. You lift your arm to hand it to him. 

The cap is still cradled in your opposite hand, and you turn and find an antique side table made from some dark, polished wood to set it down onto. When you return to face Seokjin, he holds the bottle toward you, which you take. 

"Yoongi took the more recent attacks much more personally than usual," he says with a sigh. 

You lift the bottle to your lips, mutter, "Go on," and take a drink. 

"He doesn't care for the way the girls acted, and the harm that their attacks have caused seems to have pushed him over the edge. Ordinarily, Yoongi would have sent a swarm of men to apprehend or even kill them for what they have done, but I have a feeling he held back because you are here, now."

"I'm holding him back?" you ask, feeling a misplaced tinge of guilt. After all, why should you care? 

Finally, Seokjin cracks just a hint of a smile, and you hate the way it makes you feel. You know that he knows far more than he says. 

"Or, perhaps I'm misreading the situation," Seokjin responds, smile growing. "I was simply picking your brain…friendly banter about what I assume you think is going on, and nothing more."

Unbelievable.

"Okay," you respond, voice trembling from frustration. "Then what is going on?"

"Yoongi gifted Serendipity to Ryujin's little hoard of women, as a peace offering to get them to back off. You are aware of this, yes?"

You stare blankly at Seokjin and take in his words, then mutter, "Yes."

"Seems Ryujin needed someone to help her look after the place, so I set her up with some men. Barom being one of them. I had plans to send him to another port city to work at my newest casino, but he really thrives in the club atmosphere. You should see him—under the right conditions, he can be a very loyal, hard worker." Seokjin says.

You heavy-blink, taking everything in.

Seokjin continues. "Listen, I would have warned you about his appearance, but I felt like your response to seeing him should be genuine. Yoongi may be distracted these days, but if your reaction was in any way staged, Namjoon would have caught on in an instant."

Although it makes sense, it does nothing to assuage your frustration. With a sigh, you mutter, "Figures."

"Pack a bag sooner than later," Seokjin says through a sigh of his own. "Text me when you are ready, and I will do my best to come quickly, but if I happen to be in the middle of a task, you will need to exhibit a little more…" Seokjin lifts his eyebrows, cracking a smile, "...patience."

You roll your eyes and nod, accepting his terms. Seokjin reaches for the bottle, and you hand it over, muttering, "You can finish it."

"Need me to walk you back?" Seokjin offers.

As much as you would like to have some company, you shake your head. "Thanks, anyway."

You feel somewhat dazed as you make your way back to the door and slip into your sneakers. Seokjin having a hand in Christian's presence leaves a sour taste in your mouth, despite you expecting it to be the case, and you wonder how trustworthy of an employee he is to Yoongi if he is pulling so many strings behind the scenes. 

A thought occurs, tickling at the back of your mind, and you turn, finding Seokjin standing right where you left him, watching you.

"Did Hyunjin and his family really die?" you ask. 

Seokjin stares at you unblinking. Then he lifts the bottle to his lips and mutters, "They're safe in America."

Anger rises, and you close your eyes, taking a deep breath in through your nose. The fact that Hyunjin's faked death may have aided in pushing Yoongi into a heroin relapse is absolutely infuriating. What would have happened if Yoongi overdosed in that hotel in Paris?

You squint at Seokjin, thinking of the many ways to verbally rip him to shreds. But you need to keep him on your good side, at least for the time being, so you put away your teeth. 

"Seems we both have something we do not want him to know about," you say, holding your chin up as if challenging him. 

Seokjin raises an eyebrow, mouth tugging into a smile as he says, "Seems we do."

You have no more to say, and you storm toward the door, kicking into your shoes. Seokjin says nothing as you leave, and for that, you are thankful. You yank on the door hard enough to make it rattle shut, then storm off into the night.

Tears stream down your cheeks in fat, hot streaks as you return to the mansion. You are not sad, but you just feel an overflow of emotion that seems to only come out in the form of crying and trembling. Seokjin makes you so fucking angry, yet you need him in order to make your escape—which you do your best not to dwell on, at the present moment. 

Although you are glad to see your men standing on the front stoop smoking a joint and saving you the trouble of asking to be let inside, you are not eager to explain what is the matter. You are not sure you are a convincing actor with a straight face, much less in this state.

You attempt to sneak past them before either of them can see you crying, but Namjoon is quick to reach for your hand and tug you close. You bury your face against his chest and sigh, trying to come up with what to say to excuse your crying.

"Sweetheart?" he asks, causing your emotions to boil over.

"Everything is too much," you mutter, unsure what else to say. "I might go to bed early."

Namjoon wraps his arms around your shoulders and hugs you tight. More tears fall, and you are glad when he does not address them. Instead, he kisses you on the top of the head and asks, "Want to sit down and have some water?"

With a nod, you take a step back and allow yourself to be led into the mansion. You kick out of your shoes as Namjoon does, hobbling from side to side with his arm slung over your shoulder. Then he guides you over to the large blue sofa, which you sit against and curl into a ball.

"I need a vacation," you groan into the soft fabric, squeezing your eyes closed.

"Is that what you went to talk to Seokjin about?" Namjoon asks. 

You groan and nod, curling further in on yourself. More tears pool in your eyes and you feel the urge to sob, but your body does not have the energy to exert. 

This is the final straw. The dizzy spells are too numerous, and seeing your ex has stirred up so many shitty, complicated feelings. You need a chance to breathe.

"Here, darling, drink this."

A warm hand gently tugs at your shoulder, and you comply, rotating and sliding your feet to the floor. Yoongi is perched on the edge of the couch, holding a large cup of water. You stretch your legs and reach for the cup.

The water is tepid, and it feels nice. Yoongi must think you are having another dizzy spell, and he reaches for your forehead, pressing his fingers to the skin. 

"The sake must have been too much," he says.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. 

"It's not just that," you mutter. "It's everything. I need to get away for a bit."

Yoongi nods in understanding, looking to Namjoon and then to you, asking, "Is it because of Christian?"

"He is certainly a straw that is breaking my back," you admit.

Yoongi frowns, but he appears comfortable with your choice. "Where would you go?"

"Somewhere calm," you say with a shrug. "By the sea, perhaps."

"I could oversee a trip," Namjoon recommends. "Somewhere else, entirely."

You do not have the heart to tell Namjoon that you would rather go alone, so instead, you nod and mutter, "Maybe."

There is knocking on the door, and you look up expectantly. Before either of the men can so much as move, the knob turns, and Taehyung walks in.

"Guess they'll let just anyone in here," you tease weakly as Taehyung kicks off a pair of loafers with the heels bent forward and crosses the room in quick, elongated steps. 

Taehyung kneels in front of you and digs into the pocket of his slacks, producing a little paper box. "I hope you don't mind, I have come to talk to you about medication. The hyungs said you would be home."

You shrug and eye up the white box, muttering, "I don't mind."

"This medication treats high blood pressure, and it may help with what ails you. Are you comfortable with trying something new?"

"Sure." 

Yoongi takes your glass of water as Taehyung hands over the box, and you clench the fragile paper square while he opens the small flap on the top, producing a tiny matte white compostable packet with a lump in the center where the pill is. 

"Take this once every evening, for now. We can track how it works, if at all, and go from there." Taehyung rips open the packet and prises one of your hands off the box, then he drops a round, white pill into your palm. "Try to avoid taking burupen, if possible. And, depending on which birth control you use, we may need to increase the dosage."

This information is overwhelming, but you nod. Once you do run away, the two of you will no longer be able to sort any of this out, so for now, you simply agree in order to appease him. 

Sadness quakes through you as you toss the bitter pill into your mouth and take a large gulp of water, shoving the cup back into Yoongi's waiting hands. You even struggle to swallow, feeling the urge to cry. 

Taehyung has been so kind to you. You wish you could adequately express your gratitude to him before you go. You wonder if you will ever see him again.

"Thank you," you mutter. Blinking back tears. "For everything."

Taehyung grins. "No need to thank me. It is my job to care for you." He finishes his sentence with a wink, causing you to sneer. Through laughter, he adds, "I also do so because I like you."

You close your eyes and sigh, doing your best to smile as you attempt to sort your thoughts. You need to pack a suitcase, but the prospect of making that sort of plan is overwhelming. You wish everyone would leave.

"I think I may go lay down," you say, opening your eyes to find Yoongi and Namjoon regarding you with soft, understanding frowns. You add, "In my room," causing their frowns to deepen. "I think I just need some alone time. But I'll come join you two if I get lonely."

Yoongi scoots beside you and wraps an arm around your waist. His musk is calming and familiar, tugging at your heart. 

"Sounds good, darling," he says as he leans in and places a soft, lingering kiss on your temple. "You know where to find us."

Every ounce of you pulls to Yoongi, yearning to touch him. You want to embrace and kiss and undress him so badly. But you know that if you fall into bed with him and Namjoon once more, you will not have the heart to go. And one simple kiss could ruin everything. 

As you stand, Yoongi slides his arm away. Namjoon steps close and leans in for a kiss. For a split second, you consider turning your lips away, but Namjoon wraps his arms around you, pinning your arms to your side as your hands continue to hold the small paper pill box between your chests. 

"I love you," he mutters as his lips press softly against yours. 

You have to hold back the urge to sob, swallowing hard. "I lo—" You clear your throat. "I love you, too."

As Namjoon backs away, he watches you with a hint of something indiscernible in his eyes. You almost wish he would confront you rather than allow you to slip away. Could he possibly know anything? Or are you just being paranoid?

With a bow of your head, you walk past Namjoon, to the stairwell. You take each step slowly, feeling the cold marble beneath your feet. At the thought of how much you hated this garish mansion the first day you arrived—impressed by its ridiculousness but fettered like a prisoner—you snicker, and you feel a tinge of sadness.

So much has changed, and, yet, so much of who you are feels the same. 

At the top of the stairs, you shuffle quickly into your room and close the door. You hurry to the closet and flick on the light, relieved to see a large black suitcase sitting in the back, to the left of the tall mirror. 

It is hard to remember what you came into the mansion with, but you do your best to pack only your own items and leave the rest behind. You do not deserve the designer clothing and jewelry they have given you. How can you bear to wear any of it, knowing the pain you will inevitably cause these men?

The process happens as you somewhat dissociate your feelings from the task. You do your best not to think about where anything came from—under which circumstances you received a gift as you leave it where it is. 

In fact, you do your best to refrain from thinking at all, moving from room to room, gathering your things. Sun dresses, leggings, and a couple pairs of denim jeans fill the suitcase, along with several pairs of shoes, toiletries, cardboard pill boxes, and your sex toys. 

Some of what you leave behind is designer clothing Christian bought you, but you are not concerned. You do not want to continue being the kind of person who is swept up in luxury. You never needed any of it.

Amongst the many miscellaneous items you find in the bedroom is a notebook and pen pouch nestled on the bookshelf. Without giving it any thought, you begin to pen a letter to Namjoon–because he has always been the best at talking through difficult times—and then to Yoongi, and then to the both of them, filling a single page, which you do your best not to let any wayward tears drip onto when you realize you have begun to cry. 

In this letter, you pour your heart out, you apologize for having to leave, and then you end on a high note, telling yourself that it may be possible that you could one day see them again, despite knowing deep down that this is likely not the truth. 

You fold the letter into a neat rectangle and walk with it to the closet, placing it in the center of the island and shutting off the closet light for the last time, then you stand in the center of the bedroom and look around, making sure you have everything. 

Once the entire task is as complete as you can fathom it being, you return to the bed and sit on the edge. You consider waiting an hour or two before messaging Seokjin, hoping it may give the guys a chance to wind down and sleep, but you find you are too antsy.

You: I have packed a bag. I am not sure what I want to come from telling you this information except to say that I am ready whenever the time is right.

Your thumb hovers and shakes and it takes you several seconds to hit send. You are shocked when three little dots pop up mere seconds later. 

Seokjin: Tonight? Or sometime in the next few days?

Anxiety swells in your tummy, and you sigh.

You: Might be best to just rip off the bandage, so to speak.

Seokjin: I agree. In terms of timing, I can have a plane ready in two hours, but I know damn well the men will not be asleep by then. We have a meeting planned at 8 in the morning, which means they will likely be awake between 6 and 7, so 4 is going to be our sweet spot. Can you stay awake?

Although you feel exhausted, you are certain that this may be your only chance.

You: I can stay awake.

Seokjin: Also, your suitcase…can you get it down the stairs? Are you aware of the basement exit?

You: I should be able to handle it. And yes, I am aware. 

Seokjin: I recommend trying to sneak down as early as 3. If you need some kind of a diversion, I can do my best to come up with something.

You: Sounds good. Thank you.

Seokjin: Thank me when we're on the tarmac.

With just under five hours to spare, you sit and stare at the yellow comforter on the bed. Soon, you will be sleeping under a different comforter on someone else's bed. 

At this thought, you begin to spiral. You think of all the beds you have slept in, attempting to figure out whether any of them have ever been yours. 

No, you think. Not really.

The weight of discovering another unfamiliar room and attempting to make it your home feels crushing. You wish that you could stay in the place you have felt most settled, but you know in your heart that this place has also caused you the most anguish. 

You are not a mafia wife. You do not want to be one. 

A soft knock causes you to gasp and flinch, and you place your cell phone facedown at your side. After a beat, you realize that it is Namjoon on the other side, as he tends to wait to be invited to come in.

"Yes?" you ask softly, rubbing at your eyes with your fists in order to appear tired.

The door cracks open, followed by Namjoon's tuft of dark hair and a sad smile. He hovers in the liminal space between out there and in here, and the mere presence of him makes you relax a little.

"I was wondering if perhaps a nice warm bath would make you feel better," he says, brows downturned as if he is expecting you to say no. 

But how could you say no? 

This room is cold and lonely, and Namjoon is offering you warmth. Perhaps it is selfish to take this one last moment of comfort, but if there is anything you want to remember him by, it is his ability to ease your weary soul.

"A warm bath sounds perfect," you say. His smile widens, and in turn, so does yours.

"Good," he says, standing straight and stepping halfway into the room. Namjoon wears nothing but tight dark blue briefs, and the sight of his muscular, tattooed body makes your mouth begin to water. He adds, "I've already begun drawing the bath," snapping your wandering gaze from his thighs back to his grinning face.

You leave your phone behind and slide from the mattress, bare feet meeting soft rug. Namjoon holds his hand out and you reach for it, giggling as he tugs you somewhat roughly, forcing you to stumble into him. 

"I've missed you today," he groans as he bends and captures your lips, filling you with excitement. 

"I've missed you, too," you mutter as your mouth falls open for his tongue to explore. 

Namjoon teases, dancing his tongue over yours just enough to make you moan, then retracting it to say, "You sure Gguk didn't wear you out?"

You can hardly hold back the grin that overtakes your face, and you raise your eyebrows, leaning your head back enough to look him in the eyes as you ask, "Awe, is my Joonbug jealous?"

Namjoon scoffs and rolls his eyes, then he turns toward the master bedroom, yanking on your hand to make you follow along. You do your best not to dwell on how limited your time is in the mansion now that you and Seokjin have a plan. 

As you shuffle along behind Namjoon, half-running to keep up with his quick pace, you hear the sound of the jacuzzi tub. The bedroom is empty of Yoongi, and you are not surprised when you are yanked into the ensuite and find him reclining in the tub with the bubbling water sloshing over his chest. 

Namjoon lets go of your hand and peels out of his briefs, and you struggle to resist reaching out to give his perky buttcheeks a squeeze. You shed the hoodie and undershirt in one swift motion, and your leggings and underwear in another, then prance over to the tub, where Namjoon is slowly getting in on Yoongi's right. 

Yoongi lifts and turns his head, opening his eyes and cracking a smile as you approach the tub on his left, across from Namjoon. And although you attempt to take in all of his appearance, your gaze goes straight to the slash that runs through Yoongi's eye, still as red and angry as ever—evidence of your carelessness.

"Ah, her highness joins us," he announces before closing his eyes and returning his head to the rested position against the edge of the tub. The sound of the faucet and sloshing water is almost enough to conceal Yoongi's low tones, but somehow you make out each muttered syllable perfectly. 

"Namjoon does tend to be quite persuasive," you respond with a smile, lifting your gaze to Namjoon, whose eyes intently rove your naked body as you step one foot into the tub and then the other, lowering slowly to acclimate to the heat. 

Yoongi cracks a knowing smile—a sharp little thing that verges on a smirk—and he chides with a pouty, "Ah, so it was only the promise of Namjoon that brought you in here, tonight?"

Rather than humor him with words, you walk to Yoongi and straddle his lap, slinging your arms around his neck before he has a chance to open his eyes. Two large hands touch your lower back as Yoongi smiles up at you.

"Don't be ridiculous," you mutter as you lean in for a kiss, swiftly stealing his ability to argue.

Despite knowing you should not straddle Yoongi and invite a world of possibilities that will only make the act of leaving more difficult, you find it impossible to stop yourself. Yoongi pulls you close, groaning past your lips. As you settle onto his lap, breasts buoyant and pressed against his chest, you decide to try and forget about your plan. At least for a few hours.

"So much for a relaxing bath," Yoongi teases, lips grazing against yours. 

You smile coyly, eyes watching his mouth—your faces too close to see anything else. "What do you mean?"

Yoongi's hands, which rub over your lower back and firmly grab your ass, yank and squeeze, causing your tummy to meet with a growing erection. You gasp despite expecting as much, and chuckle. 

"We don't have to—" you begin, ready to assure Yoongi that you are more than happy to stay in the tub for as long as he would like.

"Oh, but we do," he insists as he begins to push you off his lap and stand. 

Namjoon chuckles, and you turn to him, still in a somewhat crouched position, chest-high in the water. You lift an eyebrow in a silent question. 

"The tub never finished filling," Namjoon says, cocking his head to the side, to where the tap continues to flow across from where Yoongi was sitting. 

You begin to laugh, as well. Yoongi, however, has a sense of urgency, toweling himself off with one hand while he reaches into the water to take you by the arm and yank. You are surprised, but comply, standing and walking to the edge of the tub to step out onto a soft mat, water pouring from your limbs. 

Yoongi shoves his damp towel into your arms, and when you stand dumbfounded for a second too long, he sighs, takes it from you, and begins to towel you dry in the most rushed, haphazard way possible before discarding it to the floor. He takes you by the hand and pulls you toward the bed, and you hear the tub get shut off and the sound of water pouring from Namjoon as he stands up and exits, as well. 

Rather than urge you onto the bed, Yoongi simply steps behind you, shoves you forward so that you are draped over the edge of it, and drops to his knees. You open your mouth to pick fun at his impatience, but his palms spread your ass, and his mouth closes over your cunt, lips and tongue making sloppy work as you widen your stance and bend over a little more.

You moan and shudder as pleasure works through you, more and more each time Yoongi's lips and tongue become increasingly precise in their movements over your clit. You instantly relax, and, as you feared, begin to forget all about why you plan to leave. 

Yoongi abruptly stops, smacks your ass, and tells you to get up onto the bed, on your hands and knees. You do as you are told, and Yoongi also gets on the bed, positions the pillows so he can sit against them, and stretches his legs. He pats his thighs and says, "Come here."

As you crawl to Yoongi, eyes intent on his fist stroking his semi-hard cock, the bed dips behind you, and two hands firmly grab your hips before you can get too far. It is clear that your instruction is to suck Yoongi's cock while Namjoon eats you out, and as you lean forward to tease Yoongi with your tongue, Namjoon's mouth begins to devour your ass. 

It is dizzying the way the three of you fall into a tangled rhythm of pleasure. Dizzying the way you make Yoongi reach his first climax at the same time Namjoon makes you reach yours. 

Namjoon fingers you deeply, thumb on your clit while his lips and tongue work over your asshole, and you are shocked by the intensity of your orgasm like this—how the pleasure feels somehow different with the added stimulation. 

"One of these days, I want you to take both of our cocks at once," Namjoon groans against you while his teeth rake over the swell of your ass cheek. 

You have to hold back a laugh, curious what the hell must be in the water to make every man you fuck want to double-penetrate you. And although you think it would be funny to put Jeongguk's earlier suggestion on blast, you decide to keep it to yourself.

Namjoon yanks and tugs you until you are beside Yoongi on your back, with your legs spread wide. He fucks you hard and deep, and you muffle your screams against his shoulder as he leans forward and sucks on Yoongi's cock. 

It takes no time for another orgasm to crash over you, and you are painted in hot streaks of Namjoon's cum before the two men swap places, and Yoongi crawls between your legs. 

He leans close, tickling you with the tips of his dark, long hair as it brushes against your tummy and thighs while he laps up each drop of Namjoon's release like a good little dog. Then he sits high on his knees and wastes no time spearing you nice and deep. 

Namjoon kneels beside you and pulls your hands above your head, holding both of your wrists in one of his hands while the other lightly smacks and pinches the skin on your arms and chest, causing you to squeal and scream and chase two very intense orgasms. 

When Yoongi finishes, it is in Namjoon's mouth, and then the two of them mutter about taking a proper shower while you begin to drift in and out of sleep. 

You nearly doze off completely when the sound of a loud pop, followed by a bright light and a loud bang, startles you awake. Suddenly, you are far too aware of your surroundings, but you have no idea what time it is. 

In a panic, you sit up and yank the cold comforter you had been lying on top of until part of it covers your sweaty, naked body. There are more loud bangs and bright lights, and Namjoon is the first to point out that it is fireworks that are being shot off directly at the window, from the other side of the property's security gate. 

Yoongi storms over to the window, still nude, and pulls back the curtain a sliver. Namjoon leans forward and also peers out. 

"Looks like those goons from the restaurant," Namjoon says, causing your heart to pound. 

Is Christian behind whatever this strange display is? And if so, did Seokjin put him up to this?

"Mister Min, are you in there?" a voice booms over a speaker, and it sounds just like Christian—as expected. In a creepy, sing-song manner, he adds, "Come out and plaaayyy."

"Darling," Yoongi says, turning to you. "Do you know about the basement?"

You nod frantically and begin to move, inching toward the edge of the bed. Yoongi's cell phone rings on the bedside table opposite where you sit, and Yoongi rushes over and answers it simply by saying, "Seokjin."

There is a pause, and then Yoongi says, "Sounds good," and hangs up. Then he turns to Namjoon and says, "Seokjin and Hoseok are on their way." To you, he adds, "Seokjin will meet you in the basement. Get dressed and go quickly."

All at once, you throw the comforter to the side and begin making your way to the bathroom, where your clothing has been discarded, deciding that this is your getaway outfit since everything else is packed into a suitcase, and you are not going to leave in a rush wearing an evening gown. 

As you hop into your underwear and leggings, Namjoon appears, naked and with a frown on his face. He pulls you into a tight hug, kisses your forehead, and says, "This is not the way I wanted to see you off for that much needed trip. I will find you soon, alright?"

You nod, feeling tears well up, and you allow them to fall, suddenly so overwhelmed with the thought that you will likely not see Namjoon again. At least, not for a while. 

Namjoon thumbs tears from below your eyes and smiles sweetly before placing another kiss on your forehead. Behind him, Yoongi appears wearing a black sweater tucked into black joggers, and he pulls you into a hug that has you stumbling and crashing into him. 

"I'm so sorry," he says with his lips to your temple. "I know this must be scary, but we will take care of everything. Pack a bag if you can, but do not spend too long on it. We can send for more of your things once Seokjin helps you settle in somewhere."

Unable to form a coherent thought, you simply hum and nod, then allow Yoongi to break from the hug. "Hurry on," he says, smiling sadly as more fireworks and taunting words come from outside. 

You run through the dark mansion, startling each time another loud boom erupts. Despite knowing that the sounds are fireworks, you fear that whatever is happening right now could become more dangerous. 

Without turning your bedroom light on, you make your way quickly to the closet and grab the suitcase. Then you remember your cell phone, which was left on your bed. You pick it up and turn on the screen, expecting to find something from Seokjin telling you of whatever plan he may have formed before all of this kicked off, and you are surprised to find a text that simply says, "Be there in 3," which was sent exactly three minutes ago. 

You open the suitcase and grab a pair of sneakers, deciding that going to the front door for ones that have been left there is out of the question. As you zip the case back up, you hear footsteps running up the stairs and freeze, feeling fear and anxiety rush. 

"Cub," Seokjin's voice says in a whisper-yell, "are you ready?"

Without waiting for your response, he reaches and takes the suitcase by its handle and turns to run down the large staircase. You shove your feet into the black sneakers, which you will need to straighten out once you are in a vehicle, and then take one last glance at the dark room before following behind, attempting to make out the sounds of shouting coming from outside. 

Seokjin leads you down the hall, into the dining room, and through the open wall panel, which you close tightly behind you. The light has not been turned on, but your eyes are adjusted to the dark, and your heart pounds loudly and heavily as you grip onto the wooden railing and rush behind him, feet quietly pattering against carpet as you descend. 

Once you finally reach the bottom of the steps, where Seokjin waits, your thoughts begin to settle. A dim light is turned on, and as you look around at the abandoned recreation space, you begin to accept the fact that all of this is finally happening. 

A glance at your phone shows that it is just after one in the morning. Feeling frustration rise, you shove the device into a hoodie pocket and follow behind Seokjin, who continues through the space.

"So much for sticking to the plan," you grumble, head still spinning. 

It is shocking to you how the depths of the mansion seem to fully hide the sounds that are coming from outside. You walk hurriedly across the dim, carpeted basement, doing your best to keep up with Seokjin's long legs making quick strides.

"Oh, this is not my doing," he says with an amused laugh, head turning somewhat to the right. "It is lucky that his nonsense is loud enough to be heard across the property."

For some reason, you are inclined not to believe him. You mutter, "Sure," and keep your eyes ahead. 

"I mean it," Seokjin insists. "Although I have to admit, it is the perfect way to catch the loverboys off guard, this also poses somewhat of a threat. Taehyung and Jeongguk live deep enough onto the property that simply taking you to one of their homes for safe-keeping would have been a wise choice under normal circumstances. Hell, having you hole up at my place with all of Hoseok's weapons is the best choice."

Seokjin pauses at the end of the staircase, lifts your luggage, and says, "I am likely going to catch hell for removing you from the compound."

You think back to how Seokjin lied about Hyunjin's death, and about how much Jeongguk seems to mistrust him. How many secrets does Seokjin hold onto? How many lies does he spin to protect others? 

Namjoon and Yoongi seemed resolute in the fact that you would be leaving the mansion property entirely, but they likely expect to be informed of your whereabouts immediately. What will Seokjin tell them?

And then you remember the letter you wrote and realize how this must look. Under a normal disappearance, this could seem like simply running away, but forgetting to remove the letter before this escape could lead the two of them to think you and Christian really are in cahoots. 

Without a doubt, this whole scenario is not going to bode well with the others, even though they seemed to expect as much to happen as you said goodbye. Especially when hot heads like Yoongi and Jeongguk begin to speculate on all the what-ifs.

It is your hope that Namjoon will be able to remain the voice of reason, even if it is just short term. Once he reads your letter, he will realize that you are gone for good, and you worry that he will forget your earlier conversation about needing a vacation in lieu of forming some kind of conspiracy that the letter could point to. 

As you make your way up the stairs, your heart begins to pound. You know that once you get outside, the shrubs will provide some cover, but you are uncertain of how you will manage to get away with Christian and his goonies just out front. 

Exhaustion and adrenaline keep you from asking too many questions, and you focus on putting one foot in front of the other, trusting that Seokjin has a plan. 

Seokjin reaches the top of the stairs and opens the door to the outside world, and in an instant, you hear voices shouting and booming. Your heart pounds so hard you feel disoriented, and you trip over your own feet, struggling to force yourself to get any closer to the sounds. 

"The house is armored," Seokjin utters softly as he keeps your luggage in his hand and makes his way toward the end of the shrub, to where the secret door lies. "Don't worry so much about the others. Come."

You close the door to the mansion, pressing it firmly in place, and then step as lightly as you can toward Seokjin. Rather than open the shrub door that Taehyung previously brought you through all those days ago, which leads straight out into the driveway, Seokjin slowly reaches into the shrub on the left, and you watch as it swings open into the wooded area that connects the homes.

Seokjin turns to you and nods his chin, urging you silently to catch up, and you tiptoe quickly ahead toward the opening. You are surprised to discover a fully covered path, not of gravel, but of concrete, leading away from the mansion in the direction of Seokjin's home. 

"When I left to come here, I didn't see anyone near my gate," Seokjin informs softly, rushing with smaller steps, as if to stay at your pace. For this, you are grateful. "People tend not to notice our homes, which gives us a means to escape. Although it appears that Christian has been planning this little insurrection of his, I doubt he is prepared for us to slip away into the night."

A particularly loud bang causes you to trip over your own feet and for all the blood in your body to turn cold. You shrink in on yourself and duck your head instinctively. 

"Sounds like Hoseok has arrived," Seokjin says with a chipper tone. Then he adds, "It's just a flash grenade, cub. A warning shot, so to speak. Usually that is all it takes to scare lower level guys away."

You accept what Seokjin says, but worry pools in your tummy over the thought of anyone getting hurt. Even Christian, as much as you hate to admit it. You hope that the men are able to solve this matter without anyone becoming injured or worse. 

Although you tell yourself that this must be goodbye—that you must bid farewell to the mansion for good—you feel sick at the thought of never being able to see any of these men again. You hope desperately for everyone to stay alive.

The path opens up to Seokjin's property, and you notice a sleek black sports car on the driveway. Seokjin rushes forward, and as the trunk of the vehicle pops open, presumably from a key fob in his grasp, you begin to run toward the passenger door, relieved to find that it is unlocked, and slide into the seat. 

As soon as Seokjin is in the driver's seat with the door closed, he sighs, presses the engine button, and says, "I'm not sure if I should thank Barom or flay him alive."

Although there are so many thoughts running through your mind—so many questions that you feel desperate to answer—what you ask is, "Why do you call him Barom?"

Seokjin begins to drive without turning on his headlights, along the dark driveway, toward his gate. 

"That is the name he uses under my employ," he responds, looking to the right, to where the large truck sits empty of shouting men, all of whom are either pressed against the gate to the mansion or have wiggled their way inside. "I suppose I have grown accustomed to it."

Good enough, you decide, disinterested in pushing the issue any further. The two of you set off into the night, in the opposite direction of the truck and its bright headlights, and you let out a breath of relief when you realize it is not following you. 

Once the road curves and dips, Seokjin turns on his headlights, illuminating the world ahead. Anxiously, you stare into the side-view mirror, waiting for headlights to appear and advance, but they never do. 

"Breathe," Seokjin says calmly as he reaches to turn on the radio. You are surprised to hear upbeat pop music coming from the speakers, and even more surprised when Seokjin does not change it. "We appear to be out of the woods—literally and figuratively—and the guys are more than capable of handling those idiots on their own."

You sigh, unable to be as optimistic, but unwilling to argue. Aside from the pop music accompanied by your pounding heart, the rest of the drive is quiet. 

Seokjin hums to a tune from time to time, and you stare ahead as the tree line becomes spotted more and more brightly with city lights. You even allow your eyes to close, feeling exhausted from such a long day, and when you open them, the car is driving onto a strip of tarmac, toward a private airplane. 

"Let me see your phone," Seokjin says, and without thinking, you hand it over. 

Rather than explain himself, he simply pockets your device and hands you a different one, then he gets out of the car and closes the door behind him. You sit still, feeling the weight of the new phone in your hands while Seokjin opens the trunk and retrieves your suitcase.

As you exit the car, tired from the unknowable amount of time you dozed off, Seokjin rolls your suitcase over to the jet, toward a small set of stairs that sticks out from its entrance. He stops at the bottom of the steps and hands the suitcase off to a staff member, then motions for you to get moving. 

You make your way somewhat slowly up the stairs, and you are surprised when you turn around to see that Seokjin is still on the ground. He is not joining you. 

"In order to prevent the lover boys from following your scent and making a rescue mission, I am sending you to Taiwan," he shouts. Worry rises, and you open your mouth to protest, but he continues, "A liaison will be there to meet you. She will know you when she sees you. Keep your head down, and do not try to contact any of us."

With a different phone, you wonder whether you can contact any of them without jumping through hoops. Surely, Seokjin did not hand you a device with everyone's numbers stored. You squeeze the phone in your palm, overtaken by the urge to cry. 

"I will reach out soon!" Seokjin shouts, lifting a hand to wave it. He appears far too calm for your comfort, and you suddenly worry you are making a huge mistake. "Trust that the people you meet have been put in charge of looking out for you, and keep an open mind. Things are not always as they seem."

Before you can respond, a staff member places a hand on your shoulder and ushers you to walk further into the airplane. You resist for a few seconds, but give in, too tired and confused to fight. You want to scream and lash out at Seokjin, but he is already spinning on the balls of his shoes and walking away. 

What have you done? What have you agreed to?

Staff members close the door while others make their way into your cabin. They ask softly worded questions, suggesting food and drink to bring once you are in the air. You shake your head, only half hearing what anyone says and finding it difficult to focus. 

As the plane begins to move, you find a seat and strap in, then you close your eyes. You are too anxious to properly take in your surroundings, moving on autopilot. The captain is soft-spoken as he informs you that the flight will be just under three hours. And so, you decide to close your eyes and sleep. 

Nightmares haunt every second of the flight, and you jolt awake more than once disoriented and heavy, unable to keep your eyes open long enough to move into the bedroom in the back or to convince yourself to ask for something to drink. When the jet lands, you gasp, eyes wide and heart pounding. It takes a few moments to realize where you are. 

The plane slows to an eventual stop, and you feel motion sick with the urge to vomit. Luckily, a staff member is close by, and they offer you a cup of water, which you drink quickly. 

Seokjin's recommendation to keep an open mind plays in your head on repeat, and you worry yourself with all the horrible possibilities. Who could be waiting for you once the door to this plane opens? You are not eager to find out.

Staff members open the door, and you almost do not believe your eyes when, a moment later, in runs Ahn Hyejin. She looks like an angel dressed in a white tank top and short white shorts, with a long white sweater falling from her shoulders. Her dark hair falls to one side of her face in large waves, and her pouty lips are bright red. You remain buckled into the seat when she falls to her knees and sits tall, wrapping her arms around your middle. 

"H–Hyejin?" you try, unsure whether your exhaustion has reached new heights and you are hallucinating. 

Her perfume is all too familiar, convincing you that she really is here. The rose hits your senses first, followed by citrus and something sweet, and you relax all at once, letting out a deep breath, only half aware of the tears that pour from your eyes. 

"My dove," she sighs, voice somewhat strained as if she is holding back her own tears. "It is so good to see you again. Come, you must get some sleep."

Hyejin reaches to undo your seatbelt, and reality continues to sink in. You move to help with the buckle, limbs moving on a bit of a delay, and you only have a chance to graze your fingertips over metal before she pulls it apart and frees you. 

She gets to her feet and reaches out, taking both of your hands in hers and yanking you upward. Once you are steady, she begins pulling you to the exit. It is still dark outside, with a hint of sun coming over the horizon. You imagine you must be one or two time zones away from home. 

A blood-red sedan sits on the tarmac, and when the door to the back seat is opened, you notice a woman in the driver's seat and another in the passenger's seat. You are unable to make out their features as you approach, noticing only straight dark hair on the passenger that is pulled tight into a bun with strands sticking out on one side. Both women wear sunglasses despite the lack of sun.

Hyejin says, "No matter what, know that you are safe, and loved, and protected." 

This does not assuage the already growing ball of nausea in your gut, and although your hand begins to sweat in her grasp, she is steadfast, holding on tight. A staff member approaches and puts your suitcase into the back of the vehicle, and Hyejin holds out a hand toward the open door and urges you to get in. 

Only now do you realize there is a third row of seats, one of which is occupied by another unrecognizable woman who does not greet you. As you slide into the back seat, a woman you had not noticed gets in on the other side, sitting to your right and sandwiching you in the center, with Hyejin on your left. 

Once you are settled and surrounded on all sides, an unfamiliar woman begins to drive, and you study her semi-covered face in the rear-view mirror, searching her nose and lips for any hints of recognition. Soft pop music plays, and you wonder if it is the same channel Seokjin had been playing before you remember you are no longer in Korea.

As the car pulls out of the airport, the front passenger turns her body to face you, and you realize in this moment what Seokjin meant when he urged you to keep an open mind—what Hyejin meant when she insisted that you are safe and loved and protected. 

You recognize Ryujin even before she fully removes her sunglasses, smiling wide and only a bit devious. She is beautiful with her dark hair pulled out of her face. 

"Darling," she says, dragging each syllable out long in a voice that is soft as silk. You swallow thickly, fighting another urge to be sick. "How lovely to finally meet you. I'm Shin Ryujin."

"I know who you are," you manage to say, voice strained and weak.

Ryujin giggles. "Oh, good! Seokjin-oppa called in a favor, so we are going to be taking you home with us. We'll stay here for the next two days, though. Are you hungry?"

Although the question is aimed at you, the car erupts into eager chatting. It seems the other four women are quite hungry. You nod despite not being sure whether you can eat. 

"I know you likely have a lot of questions," Ryujin says through the chatter, voice surprisingly clear though much softer. "Let's get you settled in and I will tell you everything you wish to know."

And with that, the six of you drive along dark city streets, far from anywhere you have come to know as home. 

* * *

When you realize By the sign of my eyes Without a doubt You can't stop me 'cause Love is banned

🎵 visit the playlist

absolutely bonkers that large chunks of this chapter have been written for literally a year. it's nice for things to finally culminate to this point.

this would have been the end of Collateral. i would have said a bunch of sappy shit and thanked you for your years of service before taking a hiatus and moving into the sequel. but since i have changed how things are going to be, we are simply going to continue. check out the master post to see the changes that have been made, and if you are curious for more context, see this post.

i am eternally grateful, tho!!! i hope you know that, dear readers! i started this fic two (2!!) years ago (as of this week!!!), and it is a honor to have you still here with me. i definitely did not intend for it to go on this long. 💜 thank you, thank you for your patience while i was dealing with writer's block. grief is a hell of a drug, and it knocked me flat on my ass.

this has been edited, but docs acted super weird and made a lot of strange duplications of words and phrases during the writing process, so if you find anything that is just fucking wonky that i may have missed (or even something perfectly normal!) don't be afraid to tell me. i would rather know to fix a mistake than leave it.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! REBLOGS ARE IMPORTANT BLAHBLAHBLAH LIKES ARE ALSO AMAZING AND SO ON. 💜 tags will be coming in reblogs.

Yoongi's POV is next. i changed my mind about what i wanted his to contain, and i hope you enjoy it.

if you would like to see the inspo that brought DPR IAN to being mc's ex, check out this post.

have some water and fix your posture. 💜💜💜 i hope to see you soon!!! love you byeee!!!

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Collateral is copyright 2022-2024 theharrowing, all rights reserved. no translations of reposts allowed.

[whalesandclouds]

What message does the Harvest Moon bring you?

PAC Reading

Please pick an image that first catches your eye. If unsure, close your eyes, breathe in and out a few times and then look again. This is a timeless reading, so don't worry if this finds you after 29th of September.

Just a friendly reminder that this is a general pick a card reading, so only take what resonates. Any feedback is always appreciated!

1 - 2 - 3

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ・○・●・○・●

PILE 1

You may be feeling like your emotions are all over the place. You should be mindful of the energy you are sending out at this time, specific individuals can trigger something in you. However, this is the perfect time to master your own energy. To acknowledge the emotions coming to the surface and work through them. Ask yourselves questions such as ‘What is the emotion that is coming up?’, ‘Why am I feeling this way?’, ‘Why does this person trigger something in me?’ and so on. You are more than capable of moving forward, there is no need to sulk. Clear mindset and meditation is the way to go.

Extra Attracting Abundance Message:

ABUNDANCE (Career & Prosperity) - Repeat this affirmation lovingly and calmly, as often as you wish, “I have everything that I desire. My Life overflows with abundance and I am open to receiving the gifts of the Universe now.” Truly believe what you are saying.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ・○・●・○・●

PILE 2

There seems to be a blockage regarding your intuition, which is stopping you from hearing accurately what is in your heart and soul. In this case, what you are currently creating will bear no fruit. But please remember energy is ever moving and changing. This means you can shift from this state of mind by clearing the fog clouding your judgement. Clearing anxiety and negative energy (that has built up over time) from your field is a good way to start. Daily thankfulness will speed up the process. Doing this will bring success for sure.

Extra Attracting Abundance Message:

GRATITUDE (Spiritual Growth) - Whenever you turn on a tap, give thanks for the water. Whatever you eat or drink, give thanks for it. When you sit quietly, give thanks for the peace that surrounds you. Say thank you for everything, every day. You’ll realise that abundance comes in many forms.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ・○・●・○・●

PILE 3

I feel there are two separate messages for this pile. The Harvest Moon is asking you to be bold and courageous at this time. Speak up for what you want. Remember you are in charge of your own destiny. So if you are serious about making a change happen, you may need to step up as this is what is asked of you. By embracing yourself fully will you be able to follow your heart’s desires. It is time to release your old feelings of guilt, mistrust, vulnerability and betrayal. Know that you are worthy and able to transform your life into peace and joy.

As a second message for some, I feel the Moon is asking you to be cautious about money. More so how you view money and what is your attitude towards it. Do you feel you never have enough? Does money give you a sense of being safe? Why is that? These are just a few questions to ask yourself to better understand your relationship with wealth.

Extra Attracting Abundance Message:

WEALTH (Career & Prosperity) - “There are people who have money and people who are rich”

[mebemilena]

I'm loving all your Maya Lopez stories. They are amazing!!

"I hope you know that this has nothing to do with you"

A/N/: This was gonna be smut but i decided to have it on a chapter of it's own, in case some of you who have followed this storyline dont read smut.

To the sweet anon that sent me a message, this is for you.

Friendly reminder: i write on the drafts of my email so i can edit anytime before posting.  It turns out sometimes i cant proof read it and some grammar and spelling mistakes go unnoticed. i'm trying to pay more attention and let the text rest for at least a few hours before reading it to corret. Might edit the past chapters soon.

Tittle from Big girls don Cry, by Fergie.

- - -

Though Maya had told you to leave by the morning without breakfast, you were adamant about cooking her something.

"Why are you so stuborn?", she signed while you fried some eggs and bacon, the smell of fresh coffee spreading through the small kitchen of her childhood house.

You looked at her all heart eyes, like she put the stars on the sky, and that was clearly bothering her. You filled her a plate and smiled lovingly.

"Stop looking at me like that.", she frowned at you.

You noticed Maya was in a very bad mood, which didnt make much sense to you. She had kissed you last night, cuddled you on your sleep and left a kiss to your neck before getting up this morning. Not even an hour later, here she is. Staring daggers at you. 

"What's wrong?", you asked but Maya just looked away. You walked closer, standing in front of her as she avvoided your eyes. 

You tapped her nose with your index finger, getting her attention and making her face you. "Look at me?", you asked.

Maya kept staring at you, waiting for you to say whatever you wanted to. "Look, if we play our cards right, everything will turn out well." , you tried to convince her.

"This is not a game. And I'm not a prize.", she told you, arching an eyebrown.  Was she talking about Fisk offering money to whoever found her?

You rolled your eyes. Who was being stubborn now?

"You're not a prize, Maya. You're..." you started but paused. You kept looking at her, deep in thought.

"What?", she asked.

"I forgot the sign for that.", you tried.

Maya huffed.

- - -

At noon, it started to rain. You made sure to close the windows before going up to Maya. She was standing against the back of the couch, watching the rain fall down on the outside of the house. 

"This is perfect.", you told her. The rain falling and the smell of wet grass embracing your nostrils made you a little clingy. 

Maya looked at you, a strange look adorning her bautiful face. She seemed sad. 

Right there and then, you were sure she was gonna simply tell you to forget about her, to move on and leave Tamaha. You thought she'd tell you that she didn't like you anymore, tell you to leave her alone and go back to New York. 

Then you'd go right away, walking in the pouring rain and crying your heart out. And it'd be like a sad romance movie.

But she did the oposite of that.

Maya tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling you to be in front of her, and brought you closer, hiding her face on your neck. She inhaled your scent and you remembered why you hadn't change your perfume in such a long time. 

It was something you thought would work when you started flirting. Picking a smell that'd make her think of you whenever she smelled it. That's why you walk around with tangerine essential oil on your clothes and inside the necklace you're always wearing.

- - -

When you first met Maya she always kept a serious face. As you became close, she'd show you a softer side and you'd take the opportunity to actually learn more about her. 

You had met many versions of Maya and you loved all of them, though you'd seek a few of them more often than the others.

Fierce Maya was one of your favorites. She'd keep her chin up, lips sealed and a perfect eyebrown arched, looking into your eyes like she could make your soul bend to her own desire. 

Funny Maya was all sarcasm and light teasing. She'd smile wild watching you trying to understand a joke she just told. She'd playfully bump your shoulder with her own and she'd even wink at you while at work.

You loved all versions of her, but right now you'd love to have Sexual Maya. The one with wet kisses and a dirty mind, the one that'd make you scream filthy words in three different languages while making you go over the moon.

Maya was a sweet lover but she did have her moments of pure desire. "It's just sex, this is not a relationship", she had told you when you first started your thing. 

At that time you only understood the word "sex" and "relationship".

- - - 

" i missed you too.", she started. "But it wasn't fair to bring you into all of it. I wanted to keep you safe.", she explained. 

You heart grew ten times. Maya telling you she cared for you made you believe things could work out again. Screw Kingpin and New York, you could restart in Tamaha. You'd restart in a small iglu in Alaska,  dressed as a polar bear, if she'd have you. 

"I want you.', Maya signed, bringing you to reality, her eyes full of something you were yet to understand. "All of you.", she continued before claiming your lips with her own, taking your breath away.

-

Check out my redbubble shop:  https://www.redbubble.com/people/MilenaFernandes/shop?asc=u

toss a coin to your artist (me) at ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/mebemilena

[pardonmydelays]

> "most people who used to love lin in the past are his biggest haters now"

> "maybe pjo fandom is not as terrible as i thought"

two things! one: i actually did used to hate lin, but that was a short phase, and i realized i actually was upset at my younger self, and was just taking it out on people and things i associated with who i was at that time

two: that really made me think, so i have some comments actually! they’re not super insightful or conclusive, but: (if you don’t mind)

i think lin and rick riordan (the author of the pjo books) are actually pretty similar? they’re both goofy older dudes with usually much younger audiences (or at least that was true when i was a big-time hamilton fan, things might have changed), and they’re guys who have certainly made mistakes, but overall are good people (and incredible creative geniuses, but that’s a little more lin than rick tbh)

i definitely can be seriously critical of lin, i definitely think he’s corny as hell, and i definitely lightly make fun of him, but only to a point. if it starts looking a little too hostile, i remind everyone (and it’s almost always universally true) that all of us do actually love his work, and if any of us saw him in public we’d all want to ask for a photo and tell him how brilliant hamilton is, or how beautiful in the heights is, or several other wonderful things he’s done. we’re all very eager to see any creative work he’s involved in because we know it’s going to be awesome, so we really can’t complain about him that much

i am much more seriously critical of rick and things he has previously said than i am of lim (also, a lot of pjo fans call riordan "uncle rick", which is, let’s be honest, INCREDIBLY CORNY! like i do it sometimes but it’s GOOFY as HELL!)

i jokingly bully rick as well — i have sent messages about him that are like "dear lord i one day i am going to kick that old man’s ass", or more often just "RICHARD. COME ON." — but it also doesn’t get too mean. when i see comments that stray from genuine criticisms that also acknowledge he’s grown as a person or like a little friendly teasing of a guy we all admire and towards shitty comments about a stranger, i am always the first in line to defend that old man!

a while ago my older sister asked me why "gen z hates lin manuel miranda", and i explained that 1. he did some stuff that isn’t great but also really seems to have grown from that point (and also probably the smallest problem people have with him), 2. a lot of gen z went through hardcore hamilton phases and now resent their past selves (this is a major factor), and 3. being earnest is the internet’s biggest sin (the most likely culprit and also the saddest answer)

making fun of rick is very common in the pjo fandom, and at least some pjo fans bullying lin are doing it in the same way, so it’s supposed to be more "teenage cousins are gently ribbing that one goofy uncle" than actual hate? i know that there are a lot of people that are just genuinely being mean, but i hope you can find some solace that it isn’t quite as much as it looks like

okay this has been weird and maybe a little scattered, i’m blaming it on my adhd medication being way too low of a dosage lmao

but i’m sorry you & other lmm fans haters, (and i’m extra sorry because there’s a decent chance one of them was 15 year old me)

ok, wow. i don't even know how to answer that (anon, this is super long, WHY)...

so first of all, i am not a part of pjo fandom, this is important - i've said this before, i'm gonna say it again: i've never read the books, i started watching the show only because of lin, i know nothing about rick & all those inside jokes you guys have, but if making fun of him is normal in this fandom, that's totally fine. silly jokes & actual hate are not the same thing for me.

"they’re both goofy older dudes with usually much younger audiences" - that is not entirely true & it comes from someone in their late 20s (& i know a lot of people from this fandom who are waaaaay over 20). being goofy & corny, those are not real reasons to hate on somebody like that... actually, everything you said here, i already knew. people are ashamed of their hamilton phase - oh, we should definitely blame lin for that, he's literally the worst because he wrote a musical once & we were super cringe about it... did he make mistakes in the past? yes, we all do, nobody's perfect. i've heard about much more problematic celebrities & people don't even talk about them but for some reason they have to shit on lin all the fucking time. he's done more good than bad (i could write a super long essay for you but it's late & i don't even know why i'm writing all of this), that is the truth & this is where i stand.

now, we are not talking about "making fun of him", we are talking about actual hate, examples:

"lin-manuel miranda should die/we should kill him"

"i would also turn evil if lin was my father/i would kill myself if he was my father"

those are real comments i've seen about him & it all comes from pjo fandom. this is the reason why i said this fandom is terrible. like, are you guys aware that he actually has kids? go outside, touch some grass & leave him alone (i'm not talking about you anon, you're ok, i'm talking about real haters).

[miqomonkly]

14 Associations for I'lyanna Zahn

(GPOSE screenie placeholder text lul)

1. Animal: Tiger - Lyanna is strong and fierce in combat, but she is a soft and tender soul inside. When she isn't beating the snot out of monsters or pompous nutcases, she will care for those she loves, like a mother tiger does her young.

2. Color: Orange - Aside from being the color of her primary glamour, Lyanna is warm and friendly, always trying to be a comfort and solace for her friends and loved ones.

3. Song: Don't Get In My Way by Zack Hemsey - Every time I hear it, I imagine Lyanna going through her Monk training regimen ala Rocky or Creed. It just feels so raw and epic.

4. Number: 2 - The best things in Lyanna's life have always come in pairs; two parents she misses dearly, her and her twin, two worlds she defends, and so on.

5. Day or Night: Day - Typical for a Seeker of the Sun, but Lyanna does prefer to do her work in the daytime. She also values her beauty sleep!

6. Plant: Black Daisy - Got the cordage with this flower a while back, and ever since then, if I can't find a headpiece that works, I use that for Lyanna's glam. In lore, I like to think she keeps it as a reminder of her own innocence, as well as that of others, lost over the last few years.

7. Smell: Orange Creme - A rather specific scent; it's one she hasn't smelled in a while, as the only thing that could ever capture the memory of it were her mother's sweet rolls...

8. Gemstone: Amethyst and Obsidian - Amythest reminds me of her eyes, which is, in my mind, her most distinguishing feature.

More a semiprecious stone, obsidian is tied to her Monk Soul Crystal; it isn't the standard shape and color/material. Lyanna's crystal is made of obsidian, with the Monk job symbol glowing deep within its core. Obsidian is considered to be a "deep healing" stone, and for much of Lyanna's story, healing from the pain of that which she has lost is most important.

9. Season: Spring - Lyanna enjoys the vibrancy of spring and summer both, but her botanist side is overjoyed by the growth and renewal that comes in spring.

10. Place: Camp Drybone - The closest thing I'lyanna has to a "home town." Before the Calamity, before it was a "camp," Drybone was the place where she and her twin sister were born. With that connection, it is also the place where she made her memorial for her parents.

Combined with all those from the sacking of the Waking Sands she had to bury there... This place holds a greater piece of her heart than she cares to admit.

11. Food: Lentils and Chestnut Soup - One of my more spontaneous ideas, the ingredients in the soup could be easily found along the path her father's caravan would travel. As such, it would make for a perfect "childhood meal" on the road that she would remember quite fondly!

12. Astrological Sign: The Bole - This holds a deeper meaning to Lyanna than its standard astrological meaning. It represents a promise between sisters; to always be by each others' side through thick and thin. To this day, she holds onto that promise; not only to keep herself going... but the one time she attempted a card reading held a particularly curious message for her...

13. Element(s): Fire, Thunder, and Water - Fire is her wrath, turned upon enemies who fight for greed, hate, dominance, or oppression.

Thunder, her connection to her patron deity, Byregot, and his master, Rhalgr. To create and destroy, only as is necessary.

Water represents her sorrow and grief; the two emotions threatening to swallow her up whenever she falls. She fights these daily, pushing past the tides of despair to give hope to those who need it most... even if she is the one who needs it most of all.

14. Drink: Herbal Tea - Another small comfort on the road, various herbs and spices were often collected and brewed to ease a number of ailments. Her favorite is chamomile and the relaxing potency it offers.

This was so much fun to do. It's a nice feeling when you can just get into writing and lose yourself as you ponder about your character and their story!

Shoutout to @chadhunkler for tagging me for this. They always find the fun ones 😉

To continue this trend, I would like to nominate @alannah-corvaine, @starladyquasar, @iridescentvale, @sharlayandropout, and any and all else who wishes to give this a try! Be sure to @ me so i can see what you come up with too! ❤️

[cinnamostar]

hiiii again! :)

just wanted to share my thoughts on 'Four Dates to Fall in Love.'

I hope you are doing well ❤️

I loved the start with Chris—how you incorporated him as someone reader can share their feelings with and sort out their thoughts. It adds so much to the story and the characters. Especially when the reader goes on about wanting to keep having fun with Hyunjin but struggles when memories and emotions about the past years come back. I loved how Chan validated both feelings and helped the reader find a way to deal with the situation. This whole situation takes a lot of emotional intelligence, maturity, empathy, and firm boundaries. I'm so happy to see this portrayed in fanfiction. 🫶

Besides that, I also really enjoyed them cooking together—the teasing, their smiles, and the reader's hands over Hyunjin's. It was such a good read, and the underlying awkwardness was so tangible!

"[...] suddenly hyper aware of the strange warmth in your stomach that was also accompanied by the feeling of your stomach dropping. It was an uncomfortable feeling, one you didn't know how to explain or ever experienced before, but you did know you didn't want that combination of symptoms again for whatever emotion this was." I think I died reading that part. Way too good. YOU ARE SO TALENTED. I've said it so often, but the way you describe feelings—especially those opposing feelings—it's perfect.

AAAAAND you did justice to Hyunjin and his feelings in this part! How he struggles with what he has done, the reader's friendliness, the guilt, and the hate he almost has on himself.

"[...] shame paralyzed his body, the warm sensation behind his eyes reminding him to blink, reminding him he shouldn't be so selfish in his pain when he was the cause of so much discomfort." Shame is such an underrated emotion and is rarely acknowledged, but yet it is so powerful. Loved that you incorporated this emotion.

Last but not least, the last part broke me. How the reader chose to comfort Hyunjin, their inner conflict with their choice—"[...] despite what your mind screamed at you, you chose to listen to your heart, you chose him over himself".... I was fr dead on the floor after reading this. I mean—I know how hard it is to be in this situation, and I probably would do the same, but I screamed with the reader's mind.

Sooooo - in conclusion, I love how you portray them so humanly, all their struggles... I can really see myself in them. I can't wait to finally get them together.

And I wanted to point out: taking a rest from writing has paid off. Your dialogs were just perfect. I loved the slow burn. You did really well. ❤️

YOUR MESSAGES ALWAYS MAKE MY DAY SO MUCH BETTER T - T THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHH it makes me genuinely so happy that someone finds my work that impactful so it always so appreciated :')!

my intention from the start was to always have chris there as someone the reader could rely on and have candid conversations regarding their emotions! its one thing to write how the reader is feeling, but i think its another for the reader to talk to someone else abt it bc i feel like it can reveal a lil more about the characters and their relationship with each other! like yeaaa chris is reader's manager, but also a great friend over the years theyve known each other!

and yeah, they both have a lot of emotions to process and figure out! its really hard to be either of them in that position because shame/guilt is such a difficult feeling to digest, especially when the other party still hasn't forgiven. so tbh, its hard for hyunjin to know what to do or how to handle anything bc ultimately, it is up to the reader on how they wanna handle their relationship w him... hyunjin can only hope for forgiveness, but has been blessed with kindness too!

reader is also in a hard position because if it wasn't for the fact there wasn't an acting project on the line, reader would've probably been a lot more callous towards hyunjin. but theres a role on the line that the reader really wants, so reader gotta suck it up a little. while the reader did chose to be kind to hyunjin, a lot of it has to do with just spending time with him. i think no matter how angry you can be with someone, if you miss a friendship and are able to see them for who they really are, its hard to be a total dickhead to them JKLFDSJ especially if they seem super apologetic.

BUUUUUUUUUT reader choosing this doesnt mean their hurt goes away.............. I HAVE PLANS, I CANNOT SAY MORE, BUT THERE ARE PLANS FOR THIS SERIES NSJKDFNA emotions are complex and hard so this entire series is just gonna be That (but also im avoiding being repetitive too so that was an added challenge when i outlined this series)

personally, reader is actually a lot better than me, im a hater til i die, but then this story wouldnt be going anywhere...

after this chapter, there are only three dates left and then one extra chapter... i have had this all planned out, im excited and hope u enjoy whats next !!<333 thank u sm again i literally love seeing ur messages in my inbox . and yes!!! the break helped a lot :') thank u for encouraging the writing break tooMMMMMMWAH

[mountmultimuses]

RP RULES

Disclaimer: All roleplays, public or private, are non-profit, fanbased roleplays. All shows, movies, games, comics, books and artwork and the characters therein are all owned by their respected creators and owners. Please support the official release

RULES

1.Try not to to break the 4th wall, unless Deadpool is involved 2. Violence, action, and occasional romance will be involved on this blog, but I don’t do public smut. ALL SMUT IS TO BE DONE PRIVATELY, AND IS TO BE KEPT PRIVATE VIA MESSAGES.PLEASE INFORM ME OF ANY BOUNDARIES JUST AS I WILL INFORM YOU OF ANY OF MINE! ALL CHARACTERS MUST BE CONSENTING, OF-AGE ADULTS!!!  AND YOU YOURSELF MUST BE A CONSENTING, OF-AGE ADULT!!!!!!!! NO EXCEPTIONS!!!!! THAT IS THE CASE YESTERDAY, TODAY, TOMORROW, AND FOREVER!!!!

3. No Godmodding.

4.If you want to drop a thread, that’s fine.  I try not to drop threads, so if I do without notifying, it’s nothing personal, and you can let me know if you want to continue. 5. This blog is Crossover and OC friendly. 6. Certain story lines/threads will be marked under AU(alternate universe) 7. Please do not assume that your characters know mine or vice versa 8. If you are a multi-muse blog, please use only one muse, or muse set, at a time.

9. I stop posting and reblogging between 8:30pm and 9pm. After that, I will be available for messaging until 11:30pm on my days off, and until 10:30pm on work days. Afterwards, I’ll be ceasing tumblr activity for the day.

10. This one is a big one. If I miss a reply, and haven’t replied in at least one day, tell me right away If you feel we don’t talk or RP often enough, tell me right away. If I do something that is bothering you at all, TELL ME RIGHT AWAY!!!! COMMUNICATION IS REALLY IMPORTANT!!!!!

11. Please understand that I have a lot of threads and requests, so if it takes a while for me to get to your starter, don’t take it personally. I’m trying my best to get to everybody. I like, and want to interact, with all of you.

12. Please understand that I have things I need to do off of tumblr, and might have to vanish every now and then. Not only that, but my computer is old, so it does need a break. All in all, if I vanish, don’t worry. If it’s really serious, I’ll let you guys know.

13. If you want to RP, please send a request/starter to my inbox. I have a bad memory, and will forget if I don’t have something to remind me.

14. There are going to be days and nights when I am just not in the mood to do anything. I have a right to say NO. And when I say NO, I mean it.

Send me ‘Done and done’ if you have read all the rules.

[niuniente]

Hello Niu, I've come to ask you if you have any recommendations for particular books, websites, or people for dream interpretation? Or perhaps advice for how to interpret.

Tonight I had a dream and one part just felt so significant, and I must write it before its lost to me.

In the dream I was relaxing in a guest bed at a home that's not mine, and suddenly my mouth hurt and a tooth fell out. On rushing to the bathroom, it turned out many teeth had broken or fully fallen out or had big ugly cavities (the absolute horror 😱)

In one particular cavity, there was a whole entire frog hiding inside? Idk how?? It must have been very small.

In my hand full of broken bloody teeth there was a good sized round stone, with a small iridescence on the edge. On breaking open this stone, it had a beautiful rainbow ammonite fossil.

I know I can google "frog dream meaning" and "broken teeth dream meaning" there are just soooooo many results, and often websites vary drastically in what they say (especially for frogs) so I wanted to ask your thoughts on where to look

Regardless if you have advice, thank you for your time and your open inbox. Wishing you good vibes and good times <3

I'm unfortunately not specialized in dreams and don't know any extra good sources. When you encounter animals in dreams, check what their spiritual meaning is (for example in this case; "frog spirit animal"). Some of the animal guidance pages have meanings from multiple culture for the said animal. Something there most likely fits your situation.

Broken teeth and tooth injuries are always stress or anxiety related dreams. What worries you at this moment? Have you taken enough time to rest? How's your self confidence?

Long, long time ago I read of a woman who has been doing dream interpretations for 30 years. She said that the best person to tell what the dream means is the person who had the dream, because it's a direct message from the person's subconscious mind.

When googling, keep googling until you land to something which resonates with you. I once had a dream where two spiders twice of my size came inside a house I was in. When I defended myself and hit one of them, it cried out with a sad voice my spirit guide's name, Ian.

After the dream I spent hours trying to understand what a Spider means. All dream interpretations said that it was a bad omen but it didn't feel like it, especially when the spiders were friendly and called Ian, who is my guardian. Finally, I found a Hopi story of the Grandmother Spider, Hopi Kokyangwuti, who created the world and humans (if I remember it right). I realized that the Spiders in my dream were encouraging me to be more creative, as I had planned to but kept pushing it aside because I was "too busy".

Since then, seeing living spiders randomly has always meant for me that it's time to be creative, especially to write something. I literally fall into a bad health and a bad mental space if I don't do something creative regularly, so Spider is always a good reminder that time to get creative.

You can find your own meanings to your dreams and symbols like this, too. Sometimes it is a bit like a detective work.

[rabidcriterion]

okay so not as rabid as usualll but im doing a little writeup of a situation i am in because i am not quite sure what is. Goaing Oan

soooo like ages ago i was added to this discord server, it belonged to a friend i met at a convention and their group of friends was in there. it was a while ago, im not sure how long but at this point it would've been over a year ago. last year was. a shitfight because i was so busy with work, and since then I've inly become more busy, so I didn't really go in there very often. i do remember maybe joining an active voice chat a few times, but i dont think i was in there for very long each time, the longest i was in there was probably under thirty minutes? not sure, this was a while ago

anyway, i think at some point i left the server (it was a minecraft server by name, and i don't play that much anymore). i have no idea if i personally made the decision to leave or what. i just don't know.

i was hanging out with a friend last night and they were scrolling through a discord server and i recognised some of my friends in there. i asked them about it and they told me it was the same server. in the moment, i felt like making more of an effort to talk to and befriend this group of people, as i am no longer as stressed as i was with work (but still very busy) and so i asked them if they could send me a link. they said something to the effect of it wasn't their server so they didn't want to hand out links, which is fair but the way they said it struck me as being a bit odd. so, i messaged the person who owned the server and asked if i could be let in (on my friends advice). they messaged me back saying that "a few of the admins and mods were uncomfortable with you in their space" and that they would "double check with them but it isnt looking too good right now"

which leads me to where i am now. i havent been in this server for at least a good six months, but probably much longer. i thought i left, but i was possibly removed? im really unsure about the circumstances to be plainly honest.

i know that if anyone is reading this, i probably sound like your average socially unaware loser who was clearly being an asshole in some way im not disclosing in my post but. because it was a while ago now and ive been so busy, im having trouble remembering my interactions in there - but in my interactions with others i do a lot to ensure that im being polite and friendly with others. i just have no clue what i could have done, either online or in person to make these people so uncomfortable.

this also reminds me of a very unfortunate situation a few years ago where i had a nasty argument with someone who was previously a close friend, and they told all of our mutual friends that i had told them to kill themselves (i hadnt, we'd just had an argument). i had worked very hard to build that connection with those friends, and because they were closer with the other person, they had believed them. i foind i was suddenly uninvited from the group chat, and when i went to go and say my usual hellos to them (because at the time i had no idea about the rumour) they all reacted very strangely and all seemed incredibly uncomfortable, so i left them alone after that. this incident caused me to socially isolate myself for years, rather than pushing everyone to tell me why i was making them uncomfortable. i still havent heard directly from those people today, which would be fine if they showed no interest in talking to me, but at a convention towards the end of last year, they came up to me and asked me where I'd gone, and have been friendly since, but the level of that seems to fluctuate back into them shunning me, for reasons I'm unsure of.

this situation did a lot of damage to me, but i dont want to flip out just because the situation im in now reminds me of the last one. unless they tell me what's wrong (which i dont think they will) I can't really learn anything specific from it, so i guess at this point i just have to try and be more careful in social interactions with others in the future and try not to let it bother me? i just have no clue other than that

[survnet]

🎙️ and 🥪 for the ask game!

sorry for the absolute yapfest incoming and also that this is a week late. It took a bit to write all this out. and also irl stuff happened but ykkkk off topic

🥪 (Tell us any random headcanon/s you have!) : okay im doing this one first because. uh. well.

prism is really into model building. she originally only did it for planning and prototypes and such but she realized she enjoyed it so she started to do it in her free time for fun

hivemind vehemently despises every other bug apart from bees. whenever theres an ant/etc infestation he devises the most cruel painful saw trap ass ways to exterminate them and giggles manically when they die.

charlie throws motolov cocktails at birds for fun

solaris likes classical and orchestral music. esp after leaving zoraxis. it reminds her of fabby

zor secretly really likes disney movies. everyone who learns this about them gets executed instantly

anna and solaris used to stargaze together. fabby joined when she wasnt busy (not often.)

🎙️ (What’s your favourite (used or unused) voice line in the games?) : time for the reason this ask took so long to answer! I did NOT listen to the fact that it says voice line singular! god i hope this readmore works

literally all of handlers jokes. theyre so bad but they come from handler so they make me happy

"What was it that turns screws again? A... screw-turner?" and every other time he says smthn snarky... hes so funny he does NOT have time for the agents bs ❗️❗️❗️

all of zors voice messages in friendly skies. esp the birthday one. its your birthday its your birthday dr zorrrrrrr :3. OH and the one from their evil conscious. zor going to a support group is rlly funny i think

"That's a fine airplane, Agent. But don't forget to save the world?" no time for joyous whimsy smh...

"Invalid code! Goodbye!" and honestly literally everything the escape pod says. shes so happy about your imminent death! (also shoutout to her in-game voice actor tiffany. i hope you are still alive 🙏🙏🙏)

"I hate to say I told you so- ...No, wait. I love to say that! I told you so, Agent!" rude as hell...

"It appears Zor's minions have unionized... Good for them!" "Hm... Transmitting it has apparently alerted Zors assassins to your position. Good for them!" good for them<3

"It's fine. I won't reprimand you for destroying a decanter of 16-year-old single malt scotch. It... doesn't bother me." he is so bothered <3

handlers phone message at the beginning of first class. solve my riddle agent☝️☝️☝️

"Ah, the old gun-through-the-mail-slot trick. I used to do that at the office when I was an agent! ...I was asked to stop." "Ah, the old spear-through-the-ceiling trick. Never got a chance to do that one at the office." looney toons ass shit

"Just so you know... I am allergic to bees-" "Just drill that hole!" hivemind needs to be rude more... rude hivemind is my favorite hivemind

"ONE AGENT, EXTRA CRISPY!" this line repeats in my head 24/7 its actually crazy. i dont even particularly like the line its just Stuck in my brain

"The Hivemind is gonna be here! Ha, bees. He's gonna be here in like five minutes!" ha. bees.

all of hiveminds puns. especially "I spy with my little eye something that is, mm... BEES! MWAHAHAHAHA!" he didnt even try with that one its abit funny. i love him

also every other charlie and hivemind line (fork found in kitchen) i just would feel bad abt putting all of them.

all of solaris' lines when the death engine fires. shes objectum idgaf its canon. to me

"You should really enjoy the view instead of staring at that screen so much!" its because youre always on that damn computer

"'You're glowing!' Is normally a compliment. But... not in your case. Get it? Because radiation poisoning? Ha... That's a good one." not funny at all but for some reason i still giggle . i think its bc i love her

solaris' lines where she reads the agents files... teehee..

solaris' calls with zor... 'fineee🙄'

all the lines where handler nerds out abt jj

handlers voice line when hes in the crowd and gets shushed during stage fright.

"Don't raise that curtain before we're ready! I will resort to violence." violence! my favorite! the delivery here is real funny

"Ugh. No, no, that's not a good look for you, love. It's completely wrong for the shape of your face. Maybe if you- Nope, not the time. Back to work!" me when beautiful woman calls me love

"The TOLL! The great CLOCK! DOWN THE HALL!" from jj when you mess up the cue in stage fright... and the other messed up cue lines but that one is the funniest methinks

the voicemails from the interviewer in jet set. something wrong with juniper i think.

"Only the best chefs in the world can prepare that dish safely. Lucky for you, I employ the best chefs! Hehehehehe..." ONLY for the laugh at the end. why is he giggling deviously. hes probably rubbing his hands together evilly too cartoon villain ass

fabbys lines when she leaves her workshop at the beginning of eaves drop

also all of fabbys voice tapes.. esp the 5th and 6th ones

the guards in party crasher. just in general. theyr underrated. esp fred hes silly.

all of junipers lines in party crasher when u send up the wrong stuff. esp "Wine, Gibson. Not plate! Wiiiiine." why is he talking to gibson like a baby gibson is probably twice his age "Sherry, Gibson? Are you joking? Sherry? Really?" u can hear the smile in his voice near the end its kinda cute

of course, the classic "ARE YOU WEARING ONE OF MY MASKS?!" my first ieytd fanart was based on this line so for me its more nostalgic than anything. its still a good line though

"It's me! It's me, I promise! Uh, lets see, your favourite color is, uh... Y'know, you'll just have to trust me on this." he dont know shit abt phoenix...but he still care s for them... killing myself?

every juniper-as-handler line in safe and sound. only time i get the appeal of juniper in an attraction way. Especially "Don't do that, Agent. You might hurt yourself!" hoooly moly. can handler turn evil just so we can have more of him like that

also junipers monologue near the end of safe n sound. esp when you interrupt him...

handler b4 rising phoenix when he calls them by agent phoenix for the first time KILL ME NOW

all of handlers lines during th tutorial in ieytd3. esp the beginning. starts sobbing.

"Let's see... Ah, my to do list today is just... Y'know? I have to... Dust, or something. Always busy!" "Relateable! I dust 3 times a day myself." 1. robutlers delivery is sooooo funny 2. what is wrong with handler

robutlers jokes and handlers reactions to them.. "Hm. I didn't like that one."

"Heh, if I were a mean robot I'd be pretty mad right about now. But I'm nice! I'm nice..." so trustworthy

"Supervisor, remember when you said you couldn't tell us apart because our voices were so darn similar?" "Darn wasn't the word... It was-" the word was FUCKING ❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️or maybe just damn idk

"That... was in someone elses mouth. I need you to know that." "That gum is beyond disgusting. I don't like that, and I'm beginning to not like you." phoenix is insane

"Whenever I fix pipes I usually use a wrench. Sometimes I use my bare hands. ...I prefer the wrench." ...im normal

"Sooner or later we all get lasered. Or something else kills us. One of those two things will happen sooner or later, just you wait and see!" this is factual.

Every interaction prism has with her robots...esp the ones with right robot in blind spot... they make me sob

"I'm in the van in front of you. Don't worry, I only crashed 3 vans when I was a field agent." he cant drive

"Try not to go into the fire, Agent. It's not good for the car." "Fire is deadly when it's all over you." and basically every other time he says obvious shit all matter of factly. like no way... fr...?

"You know what they say! Give a robot a hot dog, feed him for a day. Teach a robot to hot dog... Wait, I messed that up." I think about teach a robot to hot dog every day

Every line from handler during the squid battle in hot water. esp "Hm, probably just... the wind. Underwater wind. Haha. Yes, anyway, grab the- No, there it is again!" he is abit stupid "EVERYTHING IS ON FIRE! The giant squid knows how power generators work!" smart squid:)

ollie. in general. love you ollie

"Fireworks are the pinnacle of undercover operations. Any passerby will simply think we're celebrating." this is true

"This is... not even remotely a wrench." Im trying my best roxana :(

every zor line. all of them. their voices (both from 2 and 3) are so cool it makes every line of theirs a favorite. especially the monologue at the end of kboom hoooly shiiit i got fucking chills when i first heard it...

"Look at those driving gloves! I bet you could drive anything with those, and look good doing it! Even one of those little... cars clowns like to drive. Ha... Even that." u can just tell hes imagining phoenix driving it

"Do you trust that sandwich? Not its quality, more like... Would you tell it a secret?" what the fuck is he talking about

"You look ready to be the life of the party! Now we just need to get you invited to a party... Not my strong suit." hes so me

"I can't say I approve of you wearing any kind of Zoraxis branding on your clothing, but I do approve of you not catching a cold. Care comes first!" eeuueeueueuue he cares abt them. kills myself.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, Agent. My eyes aren't sore, mind you. It's just an expression. Perhaps I should say that you're a sight for perfectly healthy eyes! Just to clear the air of any confusion." my handler autism hc grows more canon every day

"Ah, you're here, Agent! I have a question for you. Here it goes: Which hand is your favorite? That one? Really? No, no, you can't take it back, I feel like I know more about you now." again what the fuck is he talking about

[demented-tours]

damn, your stories are SO fucking good, I can't stop rereading them

thanks to the audios you uploaded from "Let Freedom Bleed" I reread chapters 17 and 18

and I did realize that I hadn't heard the songs at the beginning of the fanfic, more specifically "Thrice - Black Honey" and damn it all fit perfectly

ah… well I should also thank you, I haven't been well lately and somehow your story motivates me and makes me happy, just thinking "Friday is coming, new chapter! :D"

In itself, everything you have created really catches my attention, but because of the university and work, I have not been able to finish reading everything.

oh and I'm curious what "Knowing & Healing" would be What kind of information would be shared? asdfghjklzxcvbn I don't know, the title is simply very interesting, I want to know and heal myself…

I hope you are well, take care and drink water!

sorry if this message is very strange

*disappears into the dark *

I love strange.

First off: I am forever delighted that you're enjoying the stories! And also the audio files. Thank you so much for reading and letting me know you like what you find!

Second: if you liked the music choices for the opening, you may like the whole playlist? It's on Spotify, if that's your thing. If not, no worries, but here you go: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BzxZGzFakEHZyuscz3pNH?si=34f38dbe0b2a4ffa

Now then... I'm so sorry you're not well. Several people in my life often remind me, "It's okay not to be okay" and maybe that's helpful to read? Sending all the good things to you, friendly anon. I, too, am unwell. And stories keep me going. The fact that I can share that with people like you makes everything a little better. So thank YOU for letting me know. ♥

Ah yes, Knowing and Healing... I'd love to start that, but time is the thing. Essentially, it'd be a website composite of everything a friend of mine and I have learned/studied/done/can share training and information about from decades of combined healing journeys. Neither of us have been well in our lives, and it'd be kind of the cheat sheet not to do what we did and fumble around so much in the dark. We have ideas, we have a URL and a name. We'll see where it goes from there. :)

And I always appreciate a good reminder to hydrate. I'm that person who forgets to eat and drink, so.. thank you!

*sets out baked goods near the edge of the dark patch in case a wild anon gets hungry*

♥Dee

[ackerfics]

HIIIIII!! could you make a levi x reader fic where reader like burns their lip or tongue, and then levi says "let me kiss your boo boo for you" LIKE HES TRYNA FLIRT WITH THE READER I WOULD LOVE IT!!! I've literally been thinking about this ALL day!! Have a good rest of your day/night!!

a bad case of flirting (affectionate) — levi ackerman

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au | college au)

— content: fluff, pining, levi being a lovesick mess (which is majority of my writing ;>)

— summary: levi nearly regrets asking hange for advice on how to ask you make you fall in love with him. seems like the stars are on his side this day because his out-of-the-blue flirting paid off.

— word count: 2k

— notes: i really disappeared here, huh? wjsjwki i'm back! with a levi fic as an apology. man, i miss writing reader inserts. majority of what i write (aside from my uni essays) is the long aot fic i have on ao3 and wattpad. seeing as i plan to cover all the seasons, it takes a lot of my free time since i have so many ideas jumping around even while i was listening to a lecture or preparing to go to sleep. n e way, enjoy this narrative of mostly levi just describing how in love he is with you. that's basically it. buuut, i hope you do enjoy it! have an amazing day or night, lovelies! <33

reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated !! masterlist

also, as usual, this is unedited :>>

Asking Hange for flirting advice was a big mistake.

Is what Levi’s mind has been telling him since he thought that would make you swoon some more. Not that you’re not swooning at him every moment you’re together.

The two of you have been close friends since sophomore year after an eccentric brown-haired person went up and invited you to dinner with their friends. It was an awkward encounter at first but Erwin, the blond Political Science major you often saw around campus, carried the conversation as if Levi was not glaring at nothing the entire time. You thought he hated you for joining their circle. Looking into it, they were pretty tight-knit even though they knew each other only a year ago when they were fortunately placed together in one lecture (one that Levi dropped because he couldn’t take listening to Hange ramble more than the professor, or so Erwin told you). The two friendly people who now landed on your ‘acquaintance’ list, constantly reminded you that Levi’s mind worked differently than normal people. He might look like he could murder you on the spot with his glare but he was told to be a softie.

All of that supposed hatred he has for you went away like it’s nothing when Levi gradually found your company tolerable.

It started with a little gesture of bringing you coffee from his frequented cafe, which didn’t work out well because you have a preference and Levi didn’t know about it. So, after knowing about your usual order, Levi gave you a tall cup of coffee every morning before your classes. It was sweet. Nothing romantic. Just two friends simply appreciating one’s presence by doing mundane things that might seem a little heart-fluttering. No big deal.

Weeks of giving you coffee turned into months and the cups now had little scribbled post-it notes of short messages that sound so much like Levi. One example was, “You better take breaks, brat. I don’t want to bury your body when you drop dead during your free period.”

When you read that, you had to blink a couple of times while questioning if Levi was really affectionate in his ways or if he was just being a little shit. Despite the wording of his notes on your cup of coffee, it gave you a pretty good laugh when you felt too down. Maybe that was his intention. At the very least, you appreciated it. Then, you started dropping by his classes, waiting by the door of his lecture hall to invite him to some lunch or light snacks you bought from one of the many convenience stores in your university.

“You don’t have to pay me back with lunch,” Levi stated in that usual dry tone of his. “They were less than five dollars anyway.” He was talking about the cups of coffee he never missed a day giving to you.

“This is not me paying you back for the coffee,” you pulled Levi’s wrist to prevent him from causing traffic in the hallway. “This is me doing a good deed just like you have been doing to me since you bought that first cup of delectable coffee.”

“Still sounds like you’re paying me back though.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile pulling on your lips. “Okay, whatever you say, Levi. Now, let’s go. I've been starving since my last lecture ended.”

Levi sighed, taking your hand in his almost on impulse. He pulled you out of the department building his class was in and into the direction of the food hall. He didn’t want to walk a couple more minutes just to get to the university town for some lunch. “No one told you to wait for me. And isn’t your next class an hour away? Why didn’t you use your free time to eat and take a nap?” He huffed under his breath. “I swear to God, if you drop dead, I’m not attending your funeral.”

“Aw, you do care about me.” You pouted to tease him, your hand on top of your heart that was beating for some God-awful reason.

The young man beside you scoffed. “Hardly.”

“Well, I spoke too soon. I thought this was the moment where the almighty Levi Ackerman finally worried about one of his friends; me. I thought wrong.”

“Try again.”

“We’ll see, then. Give it a few months.” You waved your free hand around, missing the faint pink hue coloring Levi’s cheeks. “I think I’m craving for some carbonara. What do you think?”

“Let’s eat whatever you want.”

Levi didn’t mean falling for a friend after constant back and forths of written notes on coffee cups, spontaneous hang-outs, and video calls that would last through the early hours of the morning. He wasn’t a daft person.

He knew the moment he got himself in a trance while studying with the friendship group because he was staring at you. He noted how your eyelashes curved and framed your eyes enigmatically or how you lightly bit your lip when you were concentrating too hard on your reference materials. He might not have the experience or bravado of a casanova like the other guys in your college but the flutter of butterfly wings inside his stomach was enough indication that he started seeing you as more than a friend.

It did take a few months for him to start worrying over you in the littlest of things. Levi hid it pretty well, however. The only person who would point it out as bravely as possible was Hange and they had this knack of not keeping their mouth shut so that was inevitable. Most of the time, Levi would stare at you without really having a reason. He just did. You’re just so pretty that he couldn’t wrap his head around how you could exist and grace everyone with your presence. He even developed an ability to find you among a crowd and when you meet gazes and you wave at him with that fucking beautiful smile, he was a blushing mess.

Now, he’s in front of Hange trying to come up with ways how to make you look at him the way he looks at you — with pure adoration and affection.

“You can always try some pick-up lines,” Hange shrugs flippantly.

Levi curls his lip indignantly. “Next.”

“Oh, come on!” Hange exclaims and that hardly gets a reaction from the always stoic black-haired young man. “We have been here for an hour, ordered only the drinks from the menu,” Hange eyes the glass of water resting idly on the coaster on Levi’s side of the table, “well, at least I have the decency to order something. You have a glass of water!” Levi makes an expression that says ‘so’. Hange rarely feels frustration around their friends because it’s usually the other way around, given their almost reckless streak. “The point is … you have rejected my suggestions! I told you to be nice to [Name] and you told me it would make her doubt you because you are never nice!”

“I see nothing wrong with my reasoning.”

“Shut up!” Hange glares at Levi and the man almost believes that they have gone completely off the rails. He raises his eyebrows for a moment before letting her go off her monologue with a sip of his glass of water. “You also rejected my suggestion of buying her more things because you retaliated that it’s going to be unnecessary and way over the top. Those are just what I can list because I’m tired now!”

“Well, you accepted my cry for help—”

“Shorty, just be yourself … that’s the only thing I can come up with after all the dodging you did.”

Levi blinks at the new advice. “Wouldn’t that lead to nowhere?”

Hange groans. “You’re hopeless.”

He scoffs. “Exactly why I asked for help. And it’s with you since Erwin’s too busy with his reports while Mike is off somewhere blowing off a lab. How’s your love life going by the way?”

“Don’t you dare shift this conversation to me!” Hange points at Levi with a menacing glare that pales in comparison with Levi’s own, which he gives to Hange without any restraints. “I don’t have time for romance with all the pre-med things I’ve got going on. Just flirt with [Name] in your own Levi way. I don’t even know how that would unfold but let’s just see next week. If you have the guts to ask her for a date.”

Levi breathes a laugh, almost too confident for someone who sneers at anything remotely romantic happening in front of his face. It’s only yesterday that he huffs in disgust at the couple walking ahead of you two in the shopping district, acting all too intimate as they held hands and kissed each other’s cheeks, with you telling him that he’s too bitter to digest the concept of being affectionate.

“Of course, I have.”

He doesn’t.

Sometimes, he forgets that he has trouble expressing his emotions through words. So, he stares at you a few days later while you try to revise your notes for an upcoming quiz that’s going to be worth a hundred points, which is pure torture — your professor should be eating unappetizing meals for the rest of the semester. As you pour your entire mind onto the reference material you bought from the university bookshop weeks before, Levi is busy studying your every move. His mind, on the other hand, isn’t dedicated to memorizing chemical formulas or terminologies, instead, it’s centered around how to ask you on a date. The more he looks at you, the more anxiety bundles up his stomach, preventing him from breathing and conjuring up words. One will say that he’s trying to pierce you with imaginary lasers but in reality, he’s letting himself get distracted by how effortlessly breathtaking you are.

Usually, Levi loathes distractions but when the distraction is you, he doesn’t mind if he strays from his goal. Even if it means getting bewitched by your distinctly colored irises that are zoning on him right now.

“You alright there, Lee?” you ask him with a small grin. You prop an elbow on the hard surface of the table and place your chin on your hand.

Levi pretends that he hasn’t been staring at your profile for more than ten minutes now. He shrugs as if he has all the time in the world. “Yeah. Got bored looking at hexagons and zigzags?”

You roll your eyes. “As much as I hate looking at them, I have to study, Lee. We have a big quiz coming up. And it’s only been a few minutes since we sat down here.” You wrap your hands around the tall insulated cup of coffee Levi bought for you before going inside the library. “Oh, by the way, I like staring at these hexagons and zigzags.”

“Of course, you do.” Levi scoffs with a small smile.

You shrug in a ‘can you blame me’ manner. “I mean, it is part of my major. Might as well make friends with them.” You lift the cup to your mouth, the heat from the beverage still there. Thinking that perhaps your drink has cooled down a little bit, you take a sip, only to jerk away from the rim of the cup with a scrunched face. “Ow.”

Levi laughs through his nose. He leans forward in his seat, putting his forearms on the table. There’s a smirk pulling on his lips. “Want me to kiss the pain away?”

Almost a second later that the words sink in, Levi wants the ground to swallow him whole.

You swear you can hear a pin drop from the silence that envelops your table. And it’s the library. So, it says something.

Levi inhales a sharp breath. “Y-You know what, forget I said anyth—”

“Take me out on a date first, Ackerman, and then you can do all the kisses afterward,” you supply with warm cheeks, a knowing smile on your face.

Maybe luck is on Levi’s side that day.

Levi smiles so wide for the first time since he stepped into university. “Deal.”

levi taglist:

@misslovingpearl @guysithinkiloveymir @notgoodforlife @bokkunto @tenaciouswritersheep @sweetheart-syndrome @beautiful-is-boring @instabull @galactict3a @missyasma @everheart12

taglist

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 9

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky brings you and Mackenzie with him to an important meeting.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Uhhhh hmm work tension, sexual tension, idk Bucky and Mackenzie being annoying as usual lmao

A/N: ALSO I know I haven’t mentioned what the fuck Bucky’s company is all about because c’mon, I didn’t expect I’d get this far lmao so IDK there might be continuity issues or inaccuracies or whatevah, just ignore it lmao it’s fiction. ANYWAAAY, I just want to say how GRATEFUL AND OVERWHELMED I am with the amount of attention that this series is getting. I appreciate every feedback, every ask and every freaking debate about this shit lmfao. I love you guys. I can’t put into words how much I appreciate you all askcnasjkcnak bye

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Don't let Bucky or Mackenzie get to you.

Mark's advice rang in your ears like a chant as you watched Bucky and Mackenzie's exchange about the project. Joining them in the conference room for a major brainstorming session was you and a couple of people from your team with Beverly taking down the minutes of the meeting.

The upcoming project was a huge one, given that Barnes Group of Companies was a huge name in the automobile industry. Meanwhile, Wilson Enterprises is one of the biggest autonomous vehicle technology companies out there. This partnership was one for the books, possibly an industry changer too.

You wanted to be a part of it, wanted to spearhead the entire thing and watching Mackenzie take the reigns on this one was truly making your blood boil.

"That sounds like a nice idea, Kenzie." Bucky praised, nodding his head.

Mackenzie shrugged, "It's what I do, Buck." she said.

"Yeah, it's a great idea. I do have some comments though, if you don't mind?" you asked.

Bucky and Mackenzie exchanged glances before turning to you. You glanced at Bucky for a quick second before ignoring the way he was eyeing you with genuine interest.

"I know that bringing in a celebrity to endorse this brand new model would definitely create noise around the partnership. Although I think that would take the spotlight away from the actual product we're creating here. We want customers to focus on the brand new car model and the technology that Wilson Enterprises will be providing it with, not on the celebrity endorser." you explained.

Mackenzie hummed, "I get where you are coming from. That's a good point, actually. But a celebrity endorser will pretty much do everything for the brand. Have him up on billboards and different advertisements and you're all set." she further explained.

You chuckled, "But then how will people understand what the entire partnership is all about? Aren't we supposed to be communicating a certain message to our consumers? Wouldn't it be better to hold an event to launch the product instead? Invite the press and key opinion leaders to spread the word. Have Bucky and Mister Wilson talk about this partnership. They're famous and powerful enough to get the message across. Why waste the budget on a celebrity when we literally have everything we need to make noise?" you shrugged.

The entire room was silent after your feedback, even Mackenzie wasn't able to respond to your suggestion. Glancing over at Bucky, you saw that he was giving you the look-- the one with half-lidded eyes matched with a head tilt, the one that often resulted to him giving you a very nice reward once office hours are over.

Feeling your breath hitch in your throat, you quickly looked away and shrugged your shoulders, "I mean, that's just my two cents. Having worked here for years, I just based it on my experience. You're the expert here, Mackenzie." you offered a proud smile.

Mackenzie tried to brush it off and turned to Bucky, "What do you think, Buck? I'm still into the idea of hiring a celebrity. That's good publicity. And let's not get worried about the budget now," she said, placing a hand on top of Bucky's that was resting on the table, "I have a lot of connections so I can definitely get an endorser for a much lower rate." she reassured.

"We may have a huge budget for this, but that doesn't automatically mean that we have to use it all up. We can allocate it somewhere else, maybe start a CSR campaign as well? We are, after all, coming out with an environmental-friendly model." you suggested.

You heard Bucky when he took a sharp inhale, bringing his hands up to rub his lips as if in deep thought. He then turned to Beverly, however, his eyes remained on you.

"Take note of everything she says." he reminded her before standing up.

He asked everyone else in the room of their opinions, whether it was your or Mackenzie's idea that the company will go for. The team was divided in half, some of them preferring Mackenzie's celebrity pitch probably because they didn't want to do a lot of work.

Bucky nodded, "Well, I guess we'll have to discuss both ideas with my partner Sam and let's see where we will go from there. I have a meeting with him this afternoon, I need you and Kenzie with me there." he said, looking at your before turning to Kenzie with a charming smile.

Don't let them get to you.

-

You've never wanted for the ground to swallow you up until this moment as you stood behind Bucky and Mackenzie in the elevator. This felt so much more uncomfortable than when you shared it with Bucky after swiping right with him on Tinder. There was still tension and it felt so much worse now because you didn't know whether it was between you and Bucky or him and Mackenzie.

Fucking Mackenzie and her nicely manicured nails which always seemed find its way around Bucky's arm. You eyed her hands as they squeezed his arm, the both of them talking in hushed voices as if you weren't standing behind them.

"I've been dying to try this restaurant, I heard they serve good food. Do you want to go have dinner there sometime this week?" she asked Bucky.

"I'll check my schedule, which restaurant is this?" he asked.

When Mackenzie uttered the name of that restaurant where you celebrated your promotion, you and Bucky choked on your own spits at the same time. Warmth crept up to your cheeks at the same time Bucky's ears reddened.

"Oh, what's going on?" Mackenzie asked with a nervous chuckle as she looked at you and Bucky, struggling with your coughs.

You recovered first and shook your head, "Sorry, I get allergies. Anyway, I've been to that restaurant. They do serve good food, the staff was very hospitable as well. I'm sure Bucky would enjoy it there." you said with a smile, pushing your way past them when the elevators door slid open.

Mackenzie asking Bucky whether he was up for dinner was the last thing you heard. Good luck explaining to her why he's banned from there, you thought to yourself.

Bucky led the way to his car and it instantly brought certain memories back. You weren't going to lie, you missed the fucking and how Bucky always made sure to take care of your needs. Seeing his car was enough to make your thighs clench at the memory of him fingering you as he drove.

His gaze was on you when he opened the door to the passenger's seat, his eyes inviting as you approached him. And just as when you were about to slip in, he turned over to Mackenzie and gestured for her to get in.

What a fucking asshole, you thought to yourself as you took a step back to ride in the back instead. You tried to keep your expression stoic when you saw that Bucky checked for a reaction. He seemed perplexed when he saw that you didn't react that much to what he did.

One hundred points to Gryffindor.

-

The location for the meeting was at a nearby restaurant so you didn't suffer that much during the entire ride. Mackenzie was busy with her phone anyway, typing out messages with those manicured fingers you were beginning to hate.

By the time all three of you arrived, Sam was already there. He donned a navy blue suit and he was rocking it. You'd seen his photos on the internet and knew that he was good-looking, but seeing him in the flesh, you were stunned at how gorgeous he was. Sam stood up when he saw Bucky, offering a kind smile to you and Mackenzie.

You weren't sure whether you were just being assuming or what, but you noticed how his eyes lingered on you longer that it did with Mackenzie.

"Sam." Bucky greeted, shaking his hand before introducing you and Mackenzie.

Sam shook Mackenzie's hand first before he turned to you. You took his hand and introduced yourself, "Mister Wilson." you said.

"Please, just Sam." he told you as he gently squeezed your hand before letting go.

"Have a seat." Sam said to Bucky and Mackenzie before pulling out the chair next to him, motioning for you to sit down.

You thanked him and sat down; straightening up, you were met with Bucky's watchful gaze as he sat down across you. Your attention was taken away when Sam asked what you wanted to order, he even suggested a certain dish and immediately went to discuss that it was his favorite thing to order.

This was going to be an interesting meeting.

And interesting it truly was, because you didn't expect for Sam to be so laid-back and easy to communicate with. He wasn't one of those uptight CEOs who were very intimidating to work with. Simply put, he was the complete opposite of Bucky. While Bucky was ice cold, Sam was sunshine and warmth with his attitude.

When it came down to pitching your and Mackenzie's ideas to him, you suddenly got nervous. Sam wasn't born with a silver spoon in his mouth; from what you've read, he started off working regular jobs before he climbed his way to the top. He was a self-made man and he had extensive knowledge in the marketing industry, having a doctorate degree in the said area.

Mackenzie was the first to discuss her strategy about hiring a celebrity endorser. She said it was fast and straight to the point. When it was your turn, you started off a bit shaky but eventually found your pacing.

"We wanted to ask you how this should go on about. I know that the offer for a partnership came from our end and that we're supposed to pitch the details for it. But we wanted you to be involved in this as much as we are." Bucky further explained.

Sam nodded and let out an amused chuckle, "I really appreciate this, Buck. I was going to ask you if I can contribute with the planning as well. I'm very particular when it comes to marketing our products." he said.

"That being said, I loved both ideas. I think hiring a celebrity endorser is good." he said, making Mackenzie smile proudly.

"But I would rather hold an event to launch the product. You understand the product and what we want to do with it. It's not just a brand new car, it's an innovation and the messaging is very important. I'm very impressed." Sam said, his attention geared towards you.

"Wow, I'm honored." you laughed. "Coming from you, I mean I've read about the marketing studies you did. Pretty big deal to receive a compliment from you." you admitted.

It was meant to be a genuine reaction, really. You had no ill intentions for it, you didn't do it to make Bucky jealous or get the upper hand. However, your passion for your career and area of expertise seemed to favor you. It had Bucky on edge, seeing you and Sam get along so well.

You didn't even need to check for Bucky's reaction because he simply cleared his throat and excused himself to go to the restroom. Mackenzie seemed unbothered though, when Sam favored your pitch over hers. You couldn't read her, sometimes she'd come off competitive but right now, she was unaffected.

When Bucky got back, he was quick to finalize the meeting, "I guess it's a done deal then. We'll work on the details of the launch and maybe we can set another meeting for the major presentation for your approval?" he asked Sam.

"That sounds like a plan. I'm looking forward to working with you." Sam told everyone, although he did seem to be directly addressing you.

"Alright, I'm leaving too." Mackenzie announced after Sam left the restaurant.

"Oh, you're not heading back to the office with us?" Bucky asked.

Mackenzie shook her head, throwing her bag over her shoulder, "I have another meeting. You know how it is with freelance work." she said as all three of you stood up to head outside of the restaurant.

"My Uber's here, I guess I'll see you both sometime this week." she said and waved at you before turning to Bucky and pressing a kiss on his cheek.

"I'm counting on that dinner, okay?" she reminded before slipping into her Uber, leaving you and Bucky to head back to the office together.

Alone with Bucky. In his car. The exact same car where plenty of fucking happened. Again, you chanted Mark’s advice in your head over and over again.

Don’t let Bucky get to you. And most of all, don’t cave in.

You quickly slipped inside the front seat of Bucky’s car before he could even open it up for you. The air was thick between you and Bucky and it almost felt like it was suffocating you. Reaching for the seatbelt, you tugged at it but it wouldn’t budge. Cursing to yourself, you tried again but to no avail.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked.

“Nothing. Seatbelt’s just stuck.” you grunted, using both your hands to pull down at it.

“Here, let me.”

Suddenly, Bucky reached over to your seatbelt and tried to fix it. His face was inches away from yours and you literally felt your insides jump at how you were immediately drowned in his perfume. If you moved forward so much as half an inch, your lips would already be pressing against the corner of Bucky’s mouth. And that thought was sending your senses into overdrive.

Do not. Cave. In.

The loud click of the seatbelt made you relax and thank goodness that Bucky was quick to move away from you, fixing his suit before starting the engine. The office may just be nearby but the fact that you and Bucky were together was making it feel like it was going to be an hour-long drive.

“So what do you think about Sam?” Bucky asked out of the blue.

He was gauging you, trying to get a reaction from you. Maybe he was expecting you to be flirty with your response, or be defensive even? You weren’t going to give him that.

“I think he’s great. Like I said, I’ve read his marketing studies and they were very insightful. I learned a lot.”

Plain, simple and safe. There was no hidden meanings and no malice; you were doing great at this whole not letting Bucky get to you thing. You made a mental note to thank Mark for his advice.

“He seems interested in you.” Bucky said again, shrugging his shoulders a bit and trying to be as nonchalant as he could.

“Well we are in the same field of expertise and I was very straightforward about admiring his skills. I’d be disappointed if he brushed off my ideas.” you slightly chuckled.

“I liked Mackenzie’s idea better, honestly.” Bucky blurted out.

By this time, you had Bucky’s plans figured out. He was coming for your job, using it as a bait to get a reaction out from you. He knew how much your career meant for you, how competitive you were in your field. Whenever his other tactics wouldn’t work, he’d always go for the career aspect.

“It was good.” you agreed, turning to Bucky with a small smile. “I think we can do that for other campaigns. Just not with this partnership. I like her.” you said.

“You do?” Bucky asked in surprise before he cleared his throat upon realizing that he sort of broke his facade.

You shrugged, “She’s a headstrong woman. She reminds me of myself actually.”

If you were alone, you would have given yourself a high-five because that statement truly made Bucky think. His forehead creased as he drove, his hand rubbing his chin and his jaw clenching as if he was in deep thought.

It was silent inside the car for a brief moment, before it was interrupted by the trilling of Bucky’s phone. He fished it out of his pocket but before he could even answer it, it slipped out of his hand and disappeared beneath his seat.

“Fuck.” Bucky cursed, both his hands on the steering wheel as he continued to drive, his attention divided between driving and searching for his ringing phone.

“Shit.” he hissed again, not knowing how to get his phone while driving. He quickly glanced at you before focusing on the road again. “Baby, can you get it for me?”

You almost missed the term of endearment. Almost. It was obviously a slip of the tongue because he genuinely didn’t seem to realize that he called you that. Bucky was more focused on the road rather than processing what he just said. You chose to ignore it the same way you did to the butterflies that erupted in your stomach.

“Yeah, okay.” you said and reached over to him, bending down to look for his phone.

In a split second, your face was right in front of Bucky’s crotch as you tried to reach beneath his car seat. You tried to ignore the bulge that was staring right at you and let your hand do the searching.

“Can you reach it?” Bucky asked.

You straightened up, “No. Can you pull aside?” you asked.

Bucky checked the surroundings and then the rearview mirror, “We can’t. We’re at a no loading and unloading zone.” he explained.

The phone continues to trill and it doesn’t seem like it would stop any time now. You sighed and removed your seatbelt before stretching your body over Bucky, slipping underneath his arms on the steering wheel so you can fully reach under his seat.

From another car’s view, you looked like you were giving him a blowjob. Not that you haven’t done that before, in this same car.

Finally, you felt his phone at the tip of your fingers and stretched further, your free hand coming to grip Bucky’s thigh unintentionally. It was only when you felt his muscles flex beneath his trousers that you realized how near your hand was to his crotch.

“Did you,” Bucky cleared his throat. “Did you get it?” he stammered.

You still have a certain effect on him, how very nice. Biting back a smirk, you hummed in response before pulling back and then handing him his phone casually. Mackenzie’s name was flashing on the screen as the phone continued to ring.

“Sorry, can you answer it and put it on speakerphone?” Bucky asked again.

You shrugged and did as you were told, holding the phone near Bucky as he continued to drive.

“Hey, Kenzie. Sorry, I dropped my phone. What’s up?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, so my meeting got cancelled at the last minute. I was thinking maybe we can grab that dinner tonight instead?”

Bucky stole a quick glance from you but your face remained stoic, your hand steady as you held out his phone.

“Sure, how does around 7pm sound? I can pick you up.” Bucky offered.

“Sounds great. So are we checking that restaurant I was talking about?”

Bucky’s ears turned red again but he quickly recovered, “I was thinking of trying out a different one. I honestly didn’t like their dessert.”

Huh, that was weird. You and Bucky didn’t even make it to--

Fuck, he was talking about you, you realized. Clenching your jaw, you tried to keep calm. He was trying to get a rise out of you, don’t give in. Don’t react. Bucky’s conversation with Mackenzie didn’t last long and ended when they settled the location for their dinner.

The ride back to the office was quiet again, until your phone lit up from a notification. Bucky was already parking in the basement when you checked your phone, an audible gasp slipping past your lips upon reading the notification from LinkedIn.

Samuel Wilson wants to connect with you.

-

The Match Special Tags:

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[erodasfishtacos]

could u please do like a harry x youtuber/influencer!reader and like lots of fluff🥺

Hi bubbie! Here you go :)))

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Language

Harry was panicking. His mum and sister were going to be here in less than two hours and he’s burnt the eggplant parmigiana he had worked tediously on. 

He grabbed what he had left in his fridge - ground beef, shredded cheddar cheese, and a little bit of bacon. 

It was the type of foods he usually strayed away from so sometimes when his shopper would bring this stuff home - he’d avoid it and admittedly sometimes it would go bad sitting in the fridge.

The singer pulls up YouTube onto his phone - hoping something would come up when he typed in the ingredients on the search bar.

He clicks on the first video by cookingwithnofucks. A chuckle at the name as an advertisement plays.

A cute, bubbly girl appears on screen in a beautiful modern kitchen. She has a shirt on that says ‘fuck the patriarchy and eat pizza’. A high ponytail and minimal makeup.

“Okay - today we’re making a cheeseburger casserole,” the girl chirps, “It’s a heart attack in a dish but it’s so fucking good.”

Harry finds himself smiling as he crinkles his nose - it sounds absolutely disgusting but he’s intrigued more by the girl on the screen.

“Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. Hiii, if you’re new - I’m Y/N and I do cooking shit. Subscribe to my channel and all that jazz,” she titters while cutting open her beef package.

Harry follows along step-by-step, shaking his head as she doesn’t describe the instructions nearly well enough and is generally all over the place.

It’s a fucking cooking channel and at one point the meat starts burning. She just laughs and says, “s’just a little crispy!” 

The casserole turns out looking even better than Y/N’s to be honest. It’s done in just the right amount of time for him to shower before his family arrives.

He makes sure to subscribe to her channel - eyebrows raising when he sees that she has 16 million subscribers.

Harry wanted to spend longer, looking at her social media but there was a fixed time so he locked his phone and went to get ready.

**

Anne - always the sweetheart just tells Harry that the casserole is delicious even as a bit of grease runs down her fork from the fatty meats.

Gemma wasn’t as kind, grimacing at the casserole and remarking, “You truly are turning into an American, huh?”

**

Laying in bed that night, Harry swipes back onto YouTube. Going back to the page he just subscribed to - under a pseudonym. He clicks on another video.

“Uh, okay. So I’m cooking...fuck, it’s called unicorn bark. It looks like a magical animal puke but it looks delicious so we’re going to try it.”

Harry realizes he’s been watching this girl cook for nearly an hour. Different videos from desserts to dinners.

She curses like a sailor, fucks up almost every recipe, and makes a mess everywhere. But she’s smiling and talkative which makes him quite memorized by her.

**

“I hate editing,” Y/N groans, letting her head fall dramatically against the desktop. Her best friend and dog looked at her oddly.

“I keep saying you need to hire someone, you stubborn bitch,” Laney retorts, clicking through her Instagram feed.

“Fuck off,” she tells her friend with no real heat. The video was almost fully edited - how to make spicy as fuck jalapeño poppers.

There is a calm silence for a while until Laney gasps, “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Y/N asks, not really caring as she clicks her mouse to trim a segment.

“Harry fucking Styles just followed you on Instagram and Twitter!” Laney shouts, her dog - Rufus popping his head up in confusion.

Y/N looks at her friend to see if she’s really serious and sees no signs of deception. “Oh my god,” Y/N replies. She loved Harry Styles in One Direction and as a solo artist - a fangirl if you will.

Y/N was a well-known influencer and has run in the circles of many celebrities. She’s even met Liam Payne but she’s never been able to bump into Harry.

Her alerts tell her it to be true, she swallows as she looks back up at Laney, “He dm’ed me.”

“Open it! What did he say?” She squeals, squeezing herself on the chair next to her, peering over her shoulder at the phone.

Y/N is a bit nervous, trying not to have a mini aneurysm as she opens the message thread.

HarryStyles: Hello. Just wanted to let you know that your cheeseburger casserole recipe saved my ass last night. Cheers x

“He’s totally coming onto you,” Her friend states instantly, bouncing excitedly - she also had a bit of a crush on the singer.

It takes the two of them a minute to cool their shit before Y/N manages a reply.

Y/N/LN: Well I guess it’s only fair. Your songs have made a few of my nights much better. I’m a bit of a slut for Fine Line.

Harry laughs behind his screen at the cheeky reply he gets back. He’s usually never this forward - especially on social media where he likes to fly under the radar.

HarryStyles: Well if you fancy my music that much, I totally love for you to come to a show. I’m performing in New York City in two weeks.

“This has to be a joke, right?” Y/N sputters to her friend, eyes wide at the invite to a concert she already had tickets to.

Y/N/LN: I’m not going to lie, I already have tickets to the show. However, I don’t have any backstage passes to meet the man of the hour. Do you know someone who can hook me up?

It does wonders for Harry’s narcissism to know that she already had tickets for his concert. Was he really going to do this? He hasn’t met up with some like this since his One Direction days.

He had to remind himself - she may just be friendly and take this as a totally casual interaction. Which would be normal, Harry really shouldn’t be so infatuated with someone he’s watched cook on social media.

HarryStyles: I think I can arrange that. Shoot me your number? I’ll have them sent digitally to you with instructions on how to get backstage.

Y/N is a bit dumbfounded at how fast they agreed to meet up. A harmless backstage tour - he could just be a fan of hers and totally not interested, right?

**

Over the next few weeks, they never really stop texting. Harry sends her pictures of the recipes he copies off her channel - that usually always look better than the original. He sends her clips of him goofing around during tour rehearsal. FaceTimes her when he’s finally home for the night.  

She sends him videos of her watching Harry Styles Best Moment Part Five. A few photos she snaps throughout the city of him on billboards and buildings, in Times Square. YN facetimes him when she’s frustrated with filming or watched a sad movie.

It didn’t make sense to either of them how seamlessly they’d clicked - especially without meeting. They were a perfect balance for each other. Harry - laidback, organized, level-headed. Y/N - eccentric, all over the place, adventurous. 

Jeff had told him that he’s been gaining media attention from his social media interactions with Y/N. They like each other’s photos, begin following each other’s friends, and comment goofy things on their posts.

“Listen, I have a great idea,” Y/N begins - which Harry learned is never good. “You should film a video with me sometime.”

Y/N knew she was going out on a limb and instantly regretted the questions she’d been building the courage to ask for days when it’s quiet on his end. There’s static for a moment and Y/N needs to fill the silence.

“It was - I was just, uh, I know you’re probably too busy. I was -“ She stutters, embarrassment flooding her.

Harry cuts her off, “I’d love to.”

“Yo-you would?” She asks timidly. Was she really going to have Harry Styles in her apartment? If so, should she take down her poster?

He laughs sweetly, “Why do you sound so surprised? I can’t wait to come to New York, love.”

Y/N giggles, “Not the fact that you’re performing in front of a sold out crowd at MSG? I don’t think seeing me will top that.”

“I’ve been looking forward to meetin’ you in person since I came across your channel. You so lovely,” Harry replies, his voice a little softer but more serious.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N admits, picking at a thread in her jeans.

“Me too,” Harry murmurs, despite not wanting to admit it - he wanted her to know this was new territory for both of them. He didn’t want her to think that this was something that he did often. But a little too prideful to admit it’s the first time he’s ever done something quite like this.

“What if you don’t like me?” Y/N whispers, she...well she didn’t compare to the models he’s been seen with before. She’s regretfully fell into the rabbit hole of looking up his past flings and relationships.

Harry barks out a disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, darling. I’ve been gone for you since I saw you burn that ground beef.”

**

Harry was having a bad day - scratch that. An awful one. He tried to go get coffee at eight in the morning and got bombarded by fans, he left the shop without even ordering. They followed him back to his car and it took him fifteen minutes to pull out.

His favorite Mickey Mouse Gucci suitcase he was bringing along on tour had busted. The zipper unraveling and the trim falling off as a result. It was a one-of-a-kind.

Then he’d been stuck on a Skype meeting about tour merchandise with a group of business partners for the last three hours - all he wanted was a fucking nap.

When Y/N’s contact vibrated across his screen, he’s itching to answer but declines as he needs to give these people his attention.

When she calls again, Harry feels a prickle of annoyance. It’s not even at her - to be quite honest. It’s just the shitty day and everything’s piling up.

He always got like this before he kicked off a tour - stress level maxed out and his ability to handle minor incidents nearly shot.

I’m busy

Okay! Sorry, just have a super exciting surprise for you, bub! 

I really do not feeling like talking. I’d rather be left alone.

Oh, alright. Hope everything’s okay! Do you still want to facetime later?

Harry leaves her on read because he doesn’t want to slip up and take out his frustration on her. He’d been known to do that and he didn’t want her to think he was anything but besotted with her.

**

Y/N feels a little hesitant as she begins the uploading process to her channel. The red loading bar told her it’d be twenty-minutes before it’s going to be posted to her 16 million subscribers - one of them being Harry himself. 

Twenty-minutes for her to back out and cancel the upload. She starts having doubts about it when Harry never replies to her text which is unlike him. 

She takes Rufus out to avoid staring at the loading screen with unnecessary anxiety and uneasiness.

**

Harry is just getting home from a business dinner with the touring company’s management team. The tension and anxiety from today piling up on his shoulders and he just wants to call Y/N and crash in bed. 

He tosses his keys in the little bowl in the entry and kicks off his dingy white vans to the side. His phone dings with an alert from Gemma.

You two are the literal cutest ever. It’s quite gross.

Harry slides onto a stool in his kitchen, confused by the text message before she’s sending the link to him.

Fine Line Inspired Cupcakes!

Harry isn’t quite sure why his heart starts pounding furiously in his chest. A sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this was probably the surprise she was excited about.

He clicks on the thumbnail.

“Hiiii, it’s Y/N. Okay, well today we are going to bake some Fine Line inspired cupcakes. And if you haven’t listened to the album - get your ass out from rock you’re living under and stream it on Spotify!”

She has her hair down in long, waves and a loose cropped shirt that says TPWK in rainbow embroidery.

Harrys mouth is dry and he can’t take his fucking eyes away from the screen. 

“Soo, I was thinking the first batch would be cherry flavored? ‘Cause he has a song titled ‘Cherry’. Let’s start there. First - I need to find my measuring cups.”

In true Y/N fashion, she scours her kitchen - cussing and yanking stuff out of her neatly organized cabinets before huffing and storming off to the side.

She comes back into view, a little frazzled but smiling when she holds up the ring of plastic measuring spoons, visible bite marks notched into the material.

“My asshole of a dog had a little snack,” Y/N shows the camera before shrugging, “Let’s get this shit started. Okay, you’re going to need one cup of sugar - no wait, two? I can’t read my fucking handwriting.”

Harry’s absolutely enamored by this scatter-brained, giggly girl who manages to produce cute blue and pink cupcakes that very vaguely resembled his album cover. His heart felt a million times too big for his chest.

He was enraptured for the entirety of the thirty minute video without taking his eyes away once.

To be honest, he hadn’t felt this way since his last relationship which was over a year ago at this point.

It’s not even a thought as he’s requesting a FaceTime with Y/N. 

She answers after a few rings. She has a green face mask painted on her nose, chin, and forehead with gold eye masks under each eye. She is so fucking ridiculous it’s not even funny. 

What is even more ridiculous is how gone Harry is realizing he is for her. She was quirky, unfiltered, carefree. If he was honest - he hadn’t met a girl like that in a very long time - especially a well-known influencer.

“Hi! How was your day, grumpy?” Y/N asks brightly, making a goofy face as the mask begins to tighten and crack on her skin. Not holding the earlier conversation against him and deciding to just move forward. She understood how stressful it can be.

“M’sorry. I was a bit grumpy,” He admits, “I loved your new video, darling. Did you make those just f’me?”

He can tell she’d be blushing if her face wasn’t covered, a bit bashful as she mutters, “You already know I did it for you.”

“You’re too sweet to me, only six days until we meet,” Harry replies, voice taking on a slow, lazy drawl. 

“Six days,” Y/N repeats, eyes crinkling as she smiles with excitement.

**

“Is this outfit too much?” Y/N panics. Even though there’s literally nothing she can do about it - they’re already walking towards the backstage entrance of the massive arena. It’s still about two hours until the show starts but Harry requested her to come earlier.

Laney sighs, “For the millionth time, you look fucking sexy and Harry’s going to want to rail you right when he sees you.”

Y/N shoves her lightly with a faux annoyance as they meet up with a burly man who’s blocking the entrance to the backstage hallway and rooms.

She gives him their names and pulls up the passes on her phone before he’s nodding with any expression and letting them pass.

They’re not quite sure where to go from here so they begin to wander down the long hallway toward what looks to be the main area that people are milling about.

Y/N is nearly on the ground when someone rounds the corner without looking and walks right into her. Both of them let out huffs of air as they collide and attempt to stabilize themselves.

But there are large hands grasping her arms and holding her steady. In typical Y/N fashion she’s already cursing, “fuckin like a brick wall, look out next time.”

Then she’s looking up to Harry staring back down at her with an amused expression. He doesn’t let go of her and instead tugs her against his bare chest. He’s warm and a bit sweaty - like he’d just worked out. He was only in a pair of thin, running shorts, nike tennis shoes, and a little clip holding his hair off of his face.

Y/N can’t help but wrap her arms around his waist, returning the embrace and amazed by how right it feels to be in his arms. Her face tucks right against his collarbone and it’s like they’d known each other for years.

Pictures and videos don’t do this man justice. He’s gorgeous - sharp edges and dark inked skin. Tall and muscular but dimples that are carved in his cheeks. 

“Nice to meet you, m’Harry,” Harry rumbles, removing one hand from Y/N’s shoulder to reach out his hand to her friend.

Laney shakes his hand before asking, “Laney. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be. Where’s the food?”

Harry chuckles against Y/N’s wavy hair, “Down the hall to the left.”

Laney’s trailing off without another glance, she was very food motivated despite her skinny frame. Also not wanting to intrude of the very personal first moments of their meeting.

The popstar pulls back to look down at the girl he’s fallen for in mere weeks. She’s as beautiful as he thought she'd be - if not more. He can’t help himself, “Would it be too forward to kiss you?”

Y/N smiles widely, running a hand along his jawline, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since you stayed up on FaceTime with me until two in the morning as I cried after watching The Notebook - despite me seeing it a million times.”

Harry ducks forward to press his lips softly to her, large hands come to cup the side of her face as they connect. He’s so gentle as he moves his mouth against hers. In true Y/N fashion, she’s bold and has no hesitation slipping her tongue into his mouth.

He’s so fucking in love with her. It doesn’t make much sense - it’s definitely not logical but he’s realizing that’s okay.

“Oii, get a room!” Someone shouts from down the hallway teasingly.

Harry flips them the middle finger and pulls back, pink lips swollen and puffy, dimples on full display, “Let me take you out to dinner after the show, darling.”

“You going to wine and dine me, Styles?” Y/N giggles, unable to contain the pleasant warmness he’s spreading through her body. 

“Mmm, have t’make sure you’ll want to keep me,” Harry murmurs happily against her lips once again, pressing kiss after kiss to her to make sure she’s real, “Definitely want to keep you.”

Y/N bites teasingly at his bottom lip, hand planted on the soft but firm skin of his stomach, “You’re never getting rid of me, hope you know that.”

“Was hoping you’d say that, now let me introduce you to my band.”

                                  -- ---- ---- -- 1 year later - -- --- --- --

“Hi bitches! Today is a super special day. We have the one, the only Harry Styles filming with us. I know that’s not really that special since he’s on here all the time with me. But we’re celebrating our one year anniversary!” Y/N smiles, bumping hips with Harry who stands dutifully next to her. 

Anyone viewing can see the absolute heart-eyes and adoration he has for the girl standing next to him. He’s still as lovestruck and gone for her as he was the first time they met. Harry’s fans were thrilled - for the first time in years, he’d opened up again.

They weren’t very public on social media beside’s tagging each other in memes and posting the occasional picture. Y/N was constantly uploading cooking videos from wherever in the world she was with Harry on his tour, she’d also begin making vlogs about different foods she’s been experiencing.

---

“Okay, so here in Peru - they’re known to have this really fucking spicy beef with noddles. So obviously, I’m going to make Harry try it first,” Y/N laughs as she props the camera up on the side of the table on a napkin holder.

Harry - who has a concert in a few hours - frowns at the steaming dish in front of him, “Darling, I don’t want to try it first. It’s going to burn my mouth. Not gonna be able to sing.”

“You’re sucha baby sometimes,” Y/N rolls her eyes, slurping up the noodles with her fork while making a silly face at her boyfriend. She pulls back, straight-faced, “It’s not hot at all. Tastes amazing, though.”

Harry takes that as an initiative to shovel a spoonful into his mouth. It only takes half a moment until his taste buds erupt in fiery flames from the spices, “You bloody little brat, y’tricked me! It’s so fuckin’ hot!”

Y/N smiles widely, laughing much too loudly in the restaurant when Harry chugs the glass of water next to the plate while glaring at his love. “I’m sorry, s’just to easy with you, lovie,” She replies, leaning over the table to press a kiss to his lips. 

He’s a sucker for her and kisses her right back despite his mouth being an inferno. His heart was on fire for her and that burned much more intensely.

---

“No, love. The instructions say baking soda, not baking powder. They’re not the same thing,” Harry sighs, attempting to read her scribbled, sloppy handwriting. She’d already spilled milk on half of the paper.

“S’interchangeable, right?” Y/N hums, cracking an egg into the bowl and Harry automatically knows to look to fish out the eggshells that’d she’d let slip in because she sucks at cracking eggs but always wants to do it.

Harry reaches over her, grabbing the vanilla extract and a teaspoon, “It’s not, baby. Lemme do this real quick.”

“Will you make me a grilled cheese after this?” She asks, nuzzling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist as he finishes adding the wet ingredients to their bowl. Harry stopped questioning her thought process a long time ago.

Harry swipes his finger into the mixture of icing off to the side and rubs it right onto her nose, cackling at her pout and squeaking when she pinches at the fleshy skin of his hips. She in turn dips her finger into the sugary cream and pops it right into her mouth.

Harry eyes darken, watching her lips purse as she sucks off the icing. It was a dirty move on Y/N’s part and she knows it. It has her boyfriend dragging an icing-covered thumb along her collarbone before leaning down to slowly lick up the sugary trail with his tongue.

When Y/N slides her fingers into his hair and lets out a pretty moan, Harry’s standing back up, trailing over to the tripod and saying into the camera, “We’ll be back after a little commercial break,” and is then turning off the record button.

It takes little to no time for Harry to have Y/N’s bum on the countertop, mouth on her neck, and hand in-between her thighs.

And when they finally posted a very edited final cut of the video - well there may be a couple of fans who notice the how flushed Y/N is halfway through and a lovely purple mark on Harry’s neck that wasn’t there in the beginning of the video.