#pls ignore me !!! this me having another conversation with myself because yes.

[milkpansa-archive]

.

[bunnyscrypt]

fight fire with fire.

when i said you don’t take any of rafe’s shit i meant it

pairing: dark!crybaby!rafe cameron x reader

synopsis: your boyfriend accuses you of flirting with someone at a party causing an argument to ensue. what happens when he snaps and you snap back..

warnings: slight domestic violence (reader hits his ass back), swearing, dark!reader (kinda? sorta?) dark!crybaby!rafe but lets be real……thats just rafe lmao

a/n: the synopsis isn’t the best i’m sorry, my brain malfunctioned. this idea has been eating at me and i’ve changed the scenario like 3 times. the ending wasn’t what i planned originally but i hope you enjoy! pls comment, reblog, like! feedback is always appreciated <33

“bet you won’t disrespect me like that again, hmm?”

you held your breath, hand pressed against your cheek. the stinging in your face and the throbbing in your throat from his where his grip had been confirming what you already knew. brain going a mile a minute as your kept your gaze on the ground and that infuriated rafe even more.

grabbing both sides of your face to force your attention back to him. 

“hmm?! don’t- dont you ever raise you voice at me like that again. don’t you ever fix your lips to fucking swear at me like that.” he sneered, shaking you violently causing you to squeeze your eyes shut. “do i make myself clear?” 

“look at me when i’m talking to you!” you snap them open— wide eyes staring into his. “now i asked you a question. do i make myself clear?” 

he removes his hands from your face when you let out a yes. nodding his head, stepping back to run a hand across his mouth with a huff. 

all this because someone had flirted with you at a house party. rafe didn’t like how another guy, a pogue at that, had the nerve to walk up and talk to you. he especially didn’t like that you “entertained” him. you weren’t, you were making nice, friendly conversation while you got a drink. but rafe didn’t see that, he saw you smiling at another dude that wasn’t him and already planted the idea in his head that you wanted that "dirty pogues" attention instead of his. 

so he charged over to you and dragged you to his truck, no words spoken. ignoring all your concerned questions. 

when you got home is when he snapped. chastising you for flirting with someone else. pacing back and forth, voice getting loud. “the fuck is wrong with you? flirting with that pogue. humiliating me like that.” confused and hurt is all you felt as he accused you of wanting someone else so you defended yourself. he wasn’t hearing any of it tho. so your voice raised a bit, wanting to get it thru to him but to rafe it was af it you screamed at him. saying how this is ridiculous and “you’re being a fucking asshole.” 

that was the last thing you got out before his hand was on your throat and your head whipped violently to the side. 

you let out a shaky breath as you stare at him with wrath that was hidden by faux fear. 

he looks back at you, letting out a long sigh. “look baby..” voice now calm, and quiet as he walked back into your space. “listen i- i know i shouldn’t take my anger out on you like that, okay. but… you- you can’t talk back to me like that, a’ight. i know you can be a good girl, you just need a little discipline s’all.” he eyed you, focusing at your cheek. “cause cussing at me like? tsk, you’ll have bigger problems than a little sl-“ 

he wasn’t able to get out the rest of his words before you delivered a swift slap to his face. catching him off guard causing his head to whip to the side. he recovers quickly, looking back at you with a look that would make anyone else cower in a corner and tremble but before he can retaliate you strike him again. your nails scratching him in the mix making him step back with a hiss— pressing a hand to his cheek he pulls it back it to see his fingers stained crimson. three cuts adorning his face. eyes filled with tears.

your quick to walk up to him, grabbing his jaw tight. nails pressing into his skin— digging deeper when he grabs your wrist. 

“don’t…” you start, licking your lips. “don’t you ever…. lay your hands on me like that again.” you spoke lowly, bringing his face closer to yours. eyes locked on his tear filled ones. “i will fucking bury you, you understand me?” you shake his head bit, making him wince from your nails going deeper. "let g-" you squeeze his lips together. “don’t think that just because i love you i won’t throw back what you give me times 10.” you other hand wipes a tear that falls from his eye. “my love, i’d do anything for you but..” your eyes narrow. “hit me again and you’ll have bigger problems than a couple of claw marks. do i make myself clear?” you mock and don’t let go until he croaks out “okay” releasing his face with a little shove. blood seeping through the indents from your grip. you ignore the whimper he lets out and head towards the bathroom. “sit on the couch” not checking to make sure he does. you know he will. 

coming back with the first aid kit, you sit on his lap and begin cleaning his cuts in silence. thumb softly rubbing against his cheek when he lets out a hiss from the alcohol. placing a bandage on the cuts, you place a kiss on top. 

“baby look at me”

he lifts his eyes to meet yours— red from irritation making you frown, leaning forward to press a kiss to his eyelids. he sighs softly, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer. you comb your fingers through his hair, feeling his grip tighten. “we okay?” he bites his bottom lip, hand reaching up to caress the cheek he made contact with. you close your eyes with a soft sigh. feeling his lips press to your skin, he mutters against it, “yeah. we’re okay”. it's quiet for a while before he breaks it. "i- i'm gonna get my shit together, ya know. 'm gonna do better. be a better man for you. i promise. i j... you- don't leave me a'ight." his eyes start to well up with tears again. "please- you can't- just don't leave, okay. you.. you gotta see." repeatedly pointing to his chest as his voice cracks. "gonna show you how 'm a be someone you deserve. you just gotta stick with me baby. i promise. i promise you."

you grab his hand, pressing kisses to his knuckles to quiet his babbles. "hey. hey." his body jolted from your voice snapping a bit but he still uttered on causing you to sigh and grab his throat. tight. forcing his head up to pay attention to you. he sniffed loudly, wide eyes staring back in to yours. “i love you, you know that, yeah?” he nodded his head. “okay.” you circled your thumb softly over his skin, a show of affection. “show me then”

you leaned your forehead against his. "and don’t try that shit again."

[qqueenofhades]

Hey hilary - i really dont want to "borrow grief from the future" as they say but im feeling p lonely abt the supreme court decision looming re trump immunity. It feels like another part of my country is dying, and like the people around me are so fixated on international issues that i can't really talk about it. I dont want to just joke nervously about the impending installation of a dear leader around the water cooler - i want to be able to be as scared and sorrowful as i feel this moment deserves - and i dont want to be here alone. I completely understand if you want to step back from these topics pls feel free to ignore this ask, but would it be crazy to just make a supreme court decision meetup group? I want to really talk about this thing with people who care and understand this topic but i feel far away from an expert. Would it be insane to call the law scholar from the local school to chat?

I will say that yes, I have taken a step back from talking/posting/answering asks about politics because it is already going to be such a long year with so much nonsense to survive, and I am in a state where I need to conserve my spoons about it. This is currently what I need to do for my mental health, and as such, I do understand your need to find someone to talk about things that aren't just The Internet Outrage Du Jour, and which have a very profound impact on the future of the country. Please do what is best for you, reach out to people at the law school or trusted friends, and in my opinion, probably DON'T try to get reassurance from social media around this -- just because social media is hardwired to make you as worried and angry about all things at all times as possible. If what you want and need is conversations in the real world with real people who will bring a real-person perspective to this and not just that of the Terminally Online, by all means -- do so!

This is a tough and uncertain time for all of us, and we all have different ways of coping with it. There is so much going on, we need to find some way to filter or manage or otherwise not go totally crazy, and what that looks like is different for everyone. I may not be answering a ton of (or perhaps any) politics asks for a while, just because I too need to limit my exposure and pace myself for another f'n 8 months of 2024, but I do hope that everyone can do the same and find techniques that work for them. I am wishing you (and all!) the best. <3

[sukirichi]

me thinks tsumu didn’t actually get her drunk so she’d sleep with him. i think his blabber mouth let out the fact that the royal family is completely fucked and mentioned the affair - probably to get brownie points with the model or because he’s mad at rin for being likely to be king or something. and getting her drunk was supposed to be a safety net to ensure she doesn’t remember any of their conversations regarding that topic. she wakes up and feels blindsided that he’d try to do something so gross, she lets the info out? IDK i feel like something corrupt happened between the two that didn’t involve sexual relations…. maybe she was the one to take that photo and tsumu getting her drunk was his way of trying to erase it, like she’s drunk he takes her phone deletes pic - problem solved! i just feel like the amount of times he apologised SPECIFICALLY to sunarin… it’s just way too suspicious.

onto the man himself. y’know how i was talking about my nendoroid? imma cover his ears when i say this; if he’s genuinely so arrogant to think that sticking to his dogshit fuckass plan is the only option (because he doesn’t wanna damage his pride even more and admit he’s wrong) im gonna deck this man myself. sleeping with itinerary ON YN’S BED??? OHHHH BITCH YOU HAVE ME SO FUCKED UP RN. her only safe haven and it’s been tainted by that man whore and his woman crush wednesday…. i cannot WAIT for yn to fuck up iriler cuz she got on my last nerve like i genuinely didn’t think that was possible but damn. she deserves just as much heat as rin cuz atp do you not have ANY fucking sympathy for another woman?? you need to get some mediocre loveless dick wet so bad, you’ll do it on someone else’s bed in their locked safe space??

i have some theories but with the ending of the chapter i just need to take a few more laps, whew im like malding so hard rn. TAKING OFF THE FUCKING RING? LIKE THE AUDACITY OF THAT FIVE HEAD. it’s such a slap in the face because despite everything that happened - yn was STILL thinking of suna and how to help him and then the betrayal of them doing it in her room, AND HE JUST TAKES HIS RING OFF AND LEAVES??? IRIS HAS STOLEN EVERYTHINGGG, that line where yn was trying to reassure herself like “it was your ring on his finger.” and then cutting to that ring being left on the bed side table … suki you got me so fucked up i feel like i could run a mile rn.

there IS a way for their relationship to be redeemed tbf, idk how many readers would agree with it but i feel like the redemption would be something a little like how it was in the hamilton musical, like we just finished the reynold’s pamphlet track. i think with the redemption their relationship is definitely not going to be warm and it’s going to be a lot less loving (not loveless but yn isn’t going to give her love easily to him).

me personally, i’m just hoping if ushi becomes king he allows divorces so yn can get out of that relo and so can kiyoomi, they both deserved each other and i don’t think they could ever ignore each other for too long, especially not after that entire trip where they built their connection with each other.

i’m done rambling now, i’m sorry if my ask got a bit incoherent, this chapter had me fucked up more than any other one JUST because of the ring, like my heart actually broke when i read that. anyways im so sorry for the long ask 😭 enjoyyy

- shhh anon

shhh anon!! ah i’m always so happy to hear about your theories pls don’t think i am bothered by the long asks 🥹 for tsumu hmMMM lowkey shivering in my boots because i think you’re reading my mind and seeing all the secrets of dtd… hmm… can’t confirm anything as of now but i agree with you! he would definitely pull that just to get brownie points and get laid + getting her drunk was vv intentional on his part… i’m so sorry, he’s so horrible in dtd!! but you’re right, tsumu is one suspicious guy aafghsjkla

yes pls cover nendoroid suna’s ears!! canon suna does NOT have to hear any slander, and i’m so sorry to our pookie bear that i gave him such awful roles in this story... fr like out of all places, why on the reader’s bed?! the castle is HUGE he could’ve chosen anywhere but that (although we’ll see why he brought iris to reader’s bed in ch13 muehehhe.) AND THE NICKNAMES FOR IRIS IM CRYING IRILER?? ITINERARY? HELP 😭

OMG YES THANK YOU FOR NOTICING!! like reader’s monologue was like “that’s my ring he’s wearing even after all that happened” because that was like, her only source of comfort and reassurance that in SOME WAY, he’s still hers yknow? but then HE TAKES IT OFF AGAHJSK. but yes yes i see where you’re getting at – the redemption arc is not going to be warm at all. actually, tiny spoilers ahead, i’m not even sure i can call it a redemption arc (won’t give context hehe, you guys will see for yourselves.) but i cannot wait to see how things will change if ever ushi becomes king. he’s a very traditional guy too, so we’re not even sure if he would legalize divorce. he’s a stickler to the rules, and as much as he wants the best for his brothers, his main priority is to sticking to what the kingdom wants – so that’s a downside if he becomes king. kiyoomi though like pls i’m so in love with him, i want him to be endgame so bad!! they do deserve each other, and their chemistry + bond is just so natural for me. i think they would be happiest with one another ngl 🥹

and please don’t apologize for the long asks bb!! i actually get so happy whenever i see that people take the time to share me their thoughts, it means the world to me 🥺💫🌷

[waterfallofspace]

(if two requests is asking too much pls ignore, sorry 😭)

d/azai: 9, 52, 56, 64 (with c/huuya— maybe dark era?)

Not too much at all, thank you for another one!! I love answering these, S/oukoku are my absolute beloveds, it's never too much D/azai hehehe~~ 

Set in 'dark era' mildly, imagine them both as adults, probably around 19, before all the things go down, back when they're both working for the P/ort M/afia. 

2.1k, prompts 9, 52, 56, and 64, story under cut!

9. “You’re trembling.” 52. “Did you just sneeze?” 56. “Can you please come and get me?” 64. Mission in the rain.

(References to violence, injury, swearing, mildly high fever, and gunshots, just in case anyone doesn't like those!)

~~~~~~~

Dazai’s predictions are as reliable as the air you breathe. Sometimes the details can get fuzzy, but at the end of it all, his results are unavoidable. This is a hassle for his enemies, making him one of the most dangerous adversaries. And frankly quite annoying. However, on some days, when his predictions come to pass in ways he was hoping to avoid, they can be just as annoying for him. 

Thoughts swirl around Dazai’s head, his dripping hair clinging to his flushed forehead. ‘I foresaw the rain, but I had hoped I wouldn’t be as feverish when it came. I guess even I can’t predict exactly how an illness will progress. Though I do wish I’d known it was going to make the pain so much worse.’ 

His hand drifts back to his leg, water mixing with the blood seeping through the makeshift bandage he’d fashioned from a scarf one of the enemies had been wearing. ‘For someone covered in bandages, I actually don’t normally carry them on me. I should change that.’ Pulling the scarf tighter, pain seems to shoot through every nerve. 

“eNDxt-! hh’dZGt-!”

Dazai’s teeth clench, a faint groan crawling out from between them. The stifles send waves of burning shivers running from his head down through his arms to his fingertips. ‘I can’t get myself home like this. I’m not sure I could stand even if I wanted to… better call in backup. But who to call… someone who can see me like this…’

He lets his hands twitch, another sneeze being stalled on his breath as he reaches for his phone. The voice picks up instantly, Dazai smirking as the snarl the other man is wearing forms in his mind. 

“The fuck do you want?” 

“Chuuuuya~, can you pl- knDXt-! please come and get me?”

“Wh- what!?”

“I need y- inGZd’eh-! you to come pick me up.”

There’s a deep sigh through the phone, and what sounds like gunfire as Chuuya barks out an order. Dazai figures it’s still the mission Mori sent him on a few days ago. ‘Taking a while, usually he’d have wrapped it up by now. Must have been complications. I was supposed to go with, except a more urgent matter needed my attention.’ 

“Are you fucking serious?”

“kNT-nGT’eh-dnZNTT-! Yes, I’m serious. Hurry please~ it’s quite urgent.”

“What was that noise?”

“It’ll explain wh- eNDxT-! when you get here.”

Another round of yelling overtakes Chuuya’s side of the conversation, Dazai leaning the phone away with a wince as the noises seem to drill right into his skull. Finally it quiets down, Chuuya’s voice cutting through the silence again with a growl. 

“Can’t you call someone else? I dunno, Oda or something, why’s it gotta be me? I’m a tad busy.” 

“I’m- inGTD’eh-! trusting you with this- hH’knT-! mission. You are my partner after all.” 

“Ach. Fine, you bastard. But you’d better not be dead by the time I get there. Don’t wanna waste a trip.”

“hNgEdT-INgT-eh’kNd’eh-! See you when you get here.” 

The dial tone cuts through his last sentence, a sigh forming from the effort the call required. He lets his eyes fall shut,his head meeting the cold wall he’s leaning against. It almost seems to burn against his skin. ‘Because of the fever, I assume. Making the cold feel almost like electricity coursing through my body. Chuuya had better hurry.’ 

“You’re trembling.” 

Dazai’s eyes snap open, consciousness flooding back into his mind, a rush of pain following suit. He crushes his nose into a fist to starve off the reignited tickle while the other hand gingerly grazes his wounded leg. He manages to catalogue the rain still drenching him, Chuuya standing over him crossing his arms, and some amount of time he can no longer account for. 

“That h- happens when you’re l- left in the r- rain for- ndGT-! eh’kNXt-! d- days to fr- freeze to d- death.”

“Oh quit your whining, it’s been less than an hour. That’s impressive given I was across town.”

As Dazai feels Chuuya cold gaze, another shudder runs down his back, a smirk creeping across his face as it prompts a response laced with barely hidden guilt. 

“I got here as fast as I could, okay…?” 

‘You’re lucky it’s just us here, Chuuya. Anyone else might mistake your tone for caring~.’  The itch presents itself again, Dazai raising a hand to his face with a gasp as it climbs deeper into his sinuses. A burning starts to spread along his nose, Chuuya’s smirk only fanning his irritation. 

“ah’hNDeh-! knt’shh-! inGT’shh-!”

“Did you just sneeze?” 

“I- knGt’shh-! I certainly hope that was a sneeze and not- knGT’sshew-! my soul trying to- hh’nGT-! Escape.”

“I didn’t know you could make such dainty noises.”

The smile Dazai shoots in return is heavy, a deep air of false self-satisfaction plastered across the gesture. They both know Chuuya can see through him easily, and they both know he won’t act on this knowledge. ‘We’re both more comfortable with pretending I’m in control, like always. Despite what you may say, Chuuya, I know you better than anyone.’

“So, what exactly led to this pathetic display?” 

“Negotiations got a- ahH’INDGT’chh-! a bit out of hand. 

A blush tints Dazai’s cheeks as the stifle nearly breaks through, a violent sniffle falling through the cracks of his self-control. He flinches as the expression falters on Chuuya’s face, his blush apparently deeply visible against the rest of his utterly pale face.

“Eh?! A bit ou- you’re sitting on the ground bleeding, this is ‘a bit’?” 

“gnDT’shh-! ih’tND’eh-! It all went according to prediction.”

‘Except the severity of the fever… but he doesn’t need to know that.’ 

“You knew you were going to end up shot and laying on the ground?”

“I b- hh’enDT-! Believe I am sitting.” 

Chuuya snarls at him, fist clenching at his side as he seemingly resists the urge to throw a punch. ‘Probably a good thing for me. Not sure I could roll out of the way in time. Even if I did, it’d hurt something awful, and I’m not exactly keen on more pain at the moment.’ Dazai allows, electing to offer a small grin at the action.

“Did you at least get what you were sent for?”

“Do you really doubt me, Chuuya? hNNcH! heHh… nnDGT-! eNX’guh-!”

“Christ, Dazai.”

“eNGT’eh-! haHh… heP’ch-mmgNn’sh-hep’DNGT-! F- fuck… gNT’shh-!”

Dazai pretends he doesn’t notice the wince Chuuya lets out at the cursing as the stifles scrape through his throat. He’s switching from crushing his nose into his fist to fully pinching it shut. ‘They’re getting stronger, I can’t keep this up for long.’

“Mori sent you out here this sick?”

“I didn- hHnGT’eh-! eINXT-! Didn’t see the relevance in passing on su- such… hehhAH-! kNDT’chh-! eINGT’shh-! Such irrelevant information.”

“Irreleva- Damn it you idiot. You seriously didn’t tell him?!”

“nGT-! dnZT’chh-!”

“Well, guess it doesn’t matter now anyways. Can you walk?”

“N- hH’eNG’shh-! Not sure.”

Chuuya reaches down, stumbling a bit as Dazai leans into him, a hiss escaping as pain shoots through his leg. ‘I’m assuming the sickness is clouding my ability to ignore the pain, making it feel worse than it is. Normally an injury like this shouldn’t bother me.’ Another shiver runs through Dazai’s body, travelling through his arms into Chuuya, who turns a sharp eye to him. 

“If I could use gravity manipulation this would be a hell of a lot easier.”

“W- well sorry. N- not exactly m- my fault that I’m s- so special. hh’knChh-!” 

Dazai whips into his fist, aiming away from the man holding him up as another stifled fit pounds through his head. 

“dnCH-! inNGXT-! nnGT-! eh’INGt’shh-!”

“Ar-”

“inDksss-! eNGT-! heh…! hH’aENXT’chh-! ih’nnGXT’shh-!”

“Christ, Dazai. You’re gonna give me a headache. Just fucking sneeze.”

“Wh- inGt-! What is Chuuya talk- notagain… hH’enDG’eh-! nNGT-! kNXT’chh-! Talking about? I believe I am sne- sneehh…. hH’EDN’chh-! sneezing?”

Dazai meets Chuuya’s eyes just in time to catch the mist of concern that settles over them before they roll in his direction. They’ve stopped moving, much to Dazai’s dismay. Normally the rain hitting his head seeming to feel like gunfire would be the reason he’s annoyed, but right now he has bigger issues. His hair is soaked, and dripping onto his face, each droplet running down his nose leaving a trail of tickles in its wake.

“You know what I mean, you jackass. Just let them out.”

He crushes his nose into his fist again as another sneeze threatens to break through, determined not to follow Chuuya’s orders. ‘I don’t need to sneeze. I do- heh… don’t nee… need to…’ Chuuya’s voice cuts through his attempts, the vibrations in the air seeming to spread the itch even deeper.

“It can’t be any worse than the tiny squeaks you’re letting out now.” 

“Ch- chuhHAh-! Chuuya might have a point for once!” 

“Bastard.”

“heH-! keeshh-tisshh’ieschh’oo-!”

“Was… was that your sneeze…?”

“ieeshh’oo-! heh’tshhh’shoo-! inEShh’oo-!”

“You’re sounding practically feline, Dazai.”

A grin spreads across Chuuya’s face as Dazai leans into his hands with another tiny outburst. Managing to pry open his eyes long enough to make it out through the haze, Dazai offers a weak smile immersed in mischief.

“Seeing as you’re quite the fan of ‘felines’, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Eh?! Y- you-”

“In fact- tShh’oo-! heh’inshh’iew-! I believe you referred to a kitten as ‘cute’, didn’t y- hh’teEShhiew-! You?”

“Don’t you fuckin-”

“Awww~ Does that mean Chuuya j- eh’KNshh’oo-! hahh-! geshhiew-hepp’tishhiew-! Just called me adorable?” 

“I will drop you on your ass, you bandage waste.”

Chuuya’s glare is fierce, a scowl painted over his face, but Dazai can’t help but notice the way his grip tightens when another fit breaks out, keeping Dazai studied as he shakes. ‘Whatever you say, Chuuya~.’ 

“hH’knGT’shiew-! eh’iiashh’oo-! kenshhh’iew-! heh’gshh’deh-! hNG’deh-! d’eshh’oo-!”

“B- bless you…”

“What was that, Chuuuya~?”

“Bastard.”

“Ouch! Words sting you know. eh’kishhew-!”

“Fuck off.”

“What a dirty mouth you have!” 

Another glare is thrown his way, Dazai responding with a smile, the unsettling kind that he knows Chuuya hates. Sure enough, he feels a shudder run down the smaller man’s back. Unfortunately he doesn’t get to revel in this feeling as the earth starts to spin under his feet. Feeling the panic start to rise in his chest, Dazai’s feet slow as he attempts to let the feeling of water on his face keep his mind from shutting down.

“Chuuy-”

“Just shut up. We’re almo- hey!” 

Legs giving out from under him, Dazai lets out a mild gasp, the force sending both men to the ground. Chuuya manages to recover fast, turning the fall into a roll, but Dazai doesn’t fare as well, pain shooting through his leg as the wound meets the concrete. His eyes snap shut, a wince haunting his features.

“What the fuck do you think you’re- Oh shit, Dazai… just breathe okay? We’re almost there.”

“hh’kieshh’oo-!”

“Bless you.”

Dazai wants to respond, but his voice gets lost somewhere in his throat. Everything feels a bit too far away, the fog starting to spread through his vision distorting reality. He feels the panic rise once more in his chest, eyes frantically scanning for- ‘Chuuya. Just focus on Chuuya.’

His hand reaches up, gripping Chuuya’s arm. Normally such a gesture would earn him a kick to the chest, but instead Chuuya gently picks it up, bringing it to his chest. Dazai’s eyes flutter shut again, focusing his brain on Chuuya’s heartbeat.

“eh’hePShh’iew-! tieeshh’oo-!”

“Bless you, Dazai.” 

“Th- thank you…”

Dazai notices the way the heartbeat increases when he manages to get a word out. Chuuya lifts an arm, gently brushing the soaked hair from Dazai’s face, offering a silent invitation. It’s quickly accepted, Dazai letting his head fall onto Chuuya’s chest.

“Can you keep going..? Sitting in the rain isn’t gonna be helping your-”

“hNNshh’iew-! hep’pishhew-!”  

“That.” 

“I don’t know, Chuuya might have to carry me~.”

“Bastard. Get up.”

Chuuya rolls his eyes again with a huff, but Dazai doesn’t miss the relief in his voice. Using gravity manipulation Chuuya’s able to quickly jump to his feet, Dazai slowly following suit with a similar motion. He wavers for a second, Chuuya’s arm finding its way back around him as they cross the final stretch to the car. 

“hh’nGT-! dNTX’chh-!”

“Knock it off.”

“heH’iieeshh’oo-! yishheww-!”

“Better.”  

As soon as he climbs out of the rain, Dazai feels a wave of relief wash over him, the pounding in his head slowing to a dull thud. Chuuya climbs into the driver's seat, growling something about ‘getting my car soaked’ as Dazai lets the cool window relieve some of the heat from his cheeks.

“You gotta write up the report on this for Mori, I’m not doing it just because I saved your pathetic ass.”

“Aw Chuuya~ how sweet of you to offer to do it for me!”

“Wh- I literally just sai-”

Dazai lets his eyes flutter shut once more as Chuuya’s yelling fades into the background. You wouldn’t think it’s an easy sound to fall asleep to, but for Dazai? There’s almost nothing more soothing than the reminder that Chuuya’s there.

Because no matter what, if Chuuya’s there, he’s safe.

[scoutpologist]

ocs pls gib me ocs

omg okay so the one i've been thinking about a lot lately is emerson and she's. an mcu oc but she doesn't have to be anymore i can free her.

so her powers (yes she has powers) relate to books, words, and the manipulation of language. i forgot most of the worldbuilding and can't remember a lot of it but she's basically academia-core she's so. i love her to bits.

she's pretty gothic. i wouldn't say she's goth exactly but she's very... hannibal-esque in what she enjoys and what themes she likes to portray. think victorian gothic, darker themes, that type of stuff. she likes shit that makes most other people uncomfortable.

she dresses mostly black or similar dark, natural colors but very simply and has black hair but it's not like a trad goth situation and she doesn't really do anything super flashy.

she's very blatantly autistic and high-masking. come to think of it, when i made her i was very much personifying my experience with the parts of myself that weren't very socially acceptable that i hadn't really accepted yet, while the "socially unacceptable" parts i embraced got funneled to another character (who she. predictably. hates so fucking much).

she's the type of person to use too many fancy words in a conversation just to sound smart and overwhelm the person she's talking to. she's the type of person to mock people for being free and themselves because she can't. she's the type of person to be deeply, viscerally jealous, and not know what to do about it so she just points fingers and blame it on someone else. she's the type of person to not understand what she's feeling and think that means she needs to ignore and stuff it down even more, which makes her deeply unlikable at points.

when i first made her she wasn't very dynamic and was a bit too lovably flat. i want to make her horrible now, to reflect what she really was meant to be and make her interesting. i want to make all my ocs shitty people tbh, i think that's the most interesting thing to do with them!!! i think we're all shitty people in some aspect and seeing that reflected in a character can not only be comforting but give us insight into ourselves (and not necessarily in a bad way).

in conclusion that's emerson she's a freak and also the most e5 bitch alive and would probably kill someone for spelling something wrong one too many times.

[euphoricsunflowers]

calling you daddy — monsta x

scenario: they ask about your kinks and you ask them to call you daddy

a/n: this is written with a fem reader in mind but is not strictly fem reader as no pronouns or anything is mentioned.

a/n: was this a request? nope tbh this was written for myself bc i’m sick and tired of seeing people call these men daddy so uh pls enjoy

word count: 2k

content: sub!monsta x, dom!reader, daddy kink obviously ajshdhs, minhyuk is kinda bratty? kinda??, lots of teasing and begging, mentions of consent and stuff

—

son hyunwoo/shownu:

he falls silent. he doesn’t know what to say in the slightest. he worries that he might hurt your feelings or say something out of line, but it just stuns him, “you don’t have to do it if you’re uncomfortable with that, bear. your consent is just as important,” you say.

but see that’s half of what’s stunning him. he’s not exactly uncomfortable with that. shownu’s nature is pleasing you, he doesn’t mind filling any role or position for you, this was just a little more intense than that.

“you know what? just forget we had this conversation. i don’t want you to feel pressured, and it’s not a big deal, okay?” you say.

but the idea lingers in his head whether or not you want it to. as the days go by, his mind wanders, and while it may not exactly be what he’d be into, he’s not against doing it for you.

as you manhandle him a little bit, he says it softly, “ah, daddy-,” it’s even more embarrassing than he imagined, and his cheeks and ears are flushed and hot, but when he says it, softly under his breath, just whispering it out to test the waters, he sees your shock and then your small little smirk.

“now that i know what it sounds like to hear you say that, and what that does to me,” you say, sneaking your hands under his shirt and letting them wander, playing with his chest a bit, “i don’t think it’s a good idea to say that if you wanna make it out of this bedroom spotless and in one piece.”

he blushes even more, a little shy and hesitant, but he likes having this kind of effect on you, so that may not be the last time he says it. besides, who says he cares if he makes it out in one piece? and spotless? his neck and chest and thighs were too clean anyway.

lee hoseok/wonho:

it was in the middle of you riding him, his wrists bound above his head with a rope that made his skin look so pretty against it. he’s already cum once, but you’re not stopping until you do, and he’s trying to keep himself together. your hands roughly playing with his chest is overstimulating and he’s overwhelmed. he pleads for mercy aimlessly, almost thoughtlessly.

but then, “if you’re gonna beg, call me daddy,” you murmur. he’s not even sure he hears you right when you say it. he looks at you with wide eyes, and he assumed he did because of the way you act. he knows he could stop you at any time because you’re very clear on consent and it’s not like this was completely out of left field considering how you’re already always in charge in the bedroom. he was just stunned.

and while he’s a little bit stunned, he also won’t deny that it is a little bit hot.

so he does, “please, daddy, it’s so much- i- i can’t handle it.”

he sees your smile, with just a drop of sadism behind the curl of your lip, “just a little more, baby, i’m close. you make daddy feel so good,” he gets so excited by the praise that he attempts to stick it out, forever still the man that just wants to make you happy and please you.

he forgets about himself and his own body for a moment when he feels your body tense up around him and you hold onto his chest as you orgasm, using him to get the most out of it before you slow down to a halt.

your heavy breathes and sweet nothings whispered in his ear are heavenly.

lee minhyuk:

“really? you’re into that? i honestly thought it would be the other way around.”

taken aback, you ask, “really? what gave you that impression?”

“idk, you don’t have this aura of dominance, so i didn’t really assume that was your thing.”

“is that- is that okay with you?”

he gets closer, teasing in the way he wants to make you shy, “you seem pretty bashful for someone who just asked to be called daddy in the bedroom.”

“minhyuk-,”

he rolls his eyes, obviously trying to get a rise out of you, “come on, i don’t even know if you have it in you.”

and something about his careless, taunting tone sets something off inside you, like he was challenging you. but it’s a challenge you take on when you approach him. your touch is softer, lighter than he imagined. he thought you would be lit aflame with a need to prove yourself to him. but you lean in to press a kiss on his neck and your wandering hands settle on his hips.

you’re gentle with him initially, yet he melts a little bit when one hand tightens and another begins to unbutton his shirt, giving your mouth access to his chest.

you push him onto the couch, straddling him and using a hand to hold both of his arms above his head, when you pull back, he looks dazed and needy, all those teasing smirks having faded off his features, “why are you so affected? i thought i didn’t even have it in me,” you say with a smirk this time.

he breathes heavily, “y/n- please-”

“oh please, that’s not my name anymore, min.”

yoo kihyun:

“you want me to what?!” his voice is randomly high pitched, loud, almost like he’s nervous or scared.

despite that anxious feeling you’re feeling too, you try to stay calm, “i understand if you’re uncomfortable by it, but you asked about my kinks, kihyun.”

“yeah i know- i just- i wasn’t expecting that- really? you’re not messing with me? that’s really what you want?” he looks exasperated.

“yes. i really want you to call me daddy.”

he goes silent, trying to comprehend in his head what the hell was going on and what he was going to do and why the more he thinks about it, the less vehemently against it he becomes. and he had spent the entire relationship making it clear that he cared about what you wanted (because he does) and it’s not like… he hates the idea of it, but it’s just so out there to him that he can’t even fathom or imagine it.

he asks for a few days just to think about it, and though the awkwardness lingers in the air, by the fourth day, it seems like you had mostly forgotten about it or at least it didn’t seem to be on your mind. he spends those days really thinking, trying to imagine what it would be like, why you would even want that.

but the next time you’re together alone, your hands and lips are on him and he experimentally says it, “daddy, please.”

the whiny, begging voice, coupled with the word, leave you stunned. you pull back with wide eyes, and he felt so embarrassed and shameful with your eyes on him like that, but then you pulled him back into you and kissed him with a certain kind of feverish desperation that made his knees weak.

chae hyungwon:

his reaction is oddly pretty calm. he asked about what you were into, and you told him. maybe he was expect something a little different, but to be honest, he knew you liked to be in control, and he usually just went along with it. he didn’t mind it especially because you always made sure you both felt good and that was all that matters. that and he kinda likes being told what to do.

so it doesn’t exactly surprise him, especially when you add, “but only in a sexual context! i don’t need you to say it all the time.”

“good because there’s no way in hell i’m calling you daddy in front of my friends,” he can see the thoughts behind your eyes wanting to take up that challenge, but he decides to ignore it, “as far as they’re concerned, i’m daddy.”

“sure, wonnie. sure,” you say dismissively, before looking back at him, “are you actually okay with it though? i know it’s… weird.”

“it wasn’t what i was expecting, but if that’s what you want, then i’ll do it.”

and as soon as you’ve got him under you, with kisses and marks trailing down his neck and chest, leaving him helplessly turned on and horny, he says it so naturally, you wonder if he even thought to do it. but whether or not he’s doing this solely for you, or because he might have found it a little hot, is between him and himself, “ahh, daddy, please- be gentle with me- i have a photoshoot in the morning- oh my god that feels so good please daddy don’t stop-”

lee jooheon:

he likes the idea of it when you mention it, he just gets kinda shy, “do you- do you really want me to call you that?”

you come closer, holding his hand and rubbing your thumb against it in a comforting manner, “yeah, i really like the idea of it. if you’re not completely against it, i’d be really happy if we could try it.”

“it’s not… the worst thing you could have told me you were into,” he laughs as your hand starts to massage his thigh instead, “we can try it. i'll tell you if we need to stop, but i think it’ll be okay.”

“good, i’m glad you’re reacting this way, honey,” you murmur as you kiss him, and he smiles, which, even if it makes the kiss a little awkward, is really cute, “sweetheart,” you whisper as you pull away, “can you say it? i just wanna hear you say it.”

your hands wander his skin nervously, he can tell you’re worried about him being uncomfortable, “ahh, d-daddy, please touch me more,” he whines, and he’s never been more compelling before, but somehow the use of that word really makes you want to give in and give him anything he wants, “please touch me.”

your hand falls a little lower upon his request, and he groans lightly, pulling you a little closer, “you’re perfect, baby, so pretty.”

“ahh, please,” he huffs, clearly growing shy with the praise, but it’s obvious he really likes it, so you touch him more and whisper sweet words into his ear with a kiss, “oh- oh my- daddy- please i-”

“you’re so cute, sweetie pie, especially when you’re feeling good, you look so pretty and content. it’s my favorite sight,” you say adoringly, looking at him with the biggest heart eyes.

“wow, i didn’t expect to like this this much but-“ he whispers, “-i kinda love it.”

im changkyun/i.m:

he doesn’t react much when you say it, making you wonder if he was uncomfortable or not into it, but in any case, you assume it’s going to be forgotten in a few days and there would be nothing to worry about.

until he’s trying to get you to play with him and you’re trying to work. he can’t deny that he gets horny easily and you’re right there! he tries to tease in an way he can think possible, but to no avail. you’re still just sitting there, typing away on your laptop.

“just another thirty minutes, and then im all yours, baby,” you murmur to him, and he pouts subconsciously out of frustration.

he gets an idea, and i’m sure you know what it is.

“alright, you’re busy and i respect that. i guess i’ll just leave you be and go play by myself, daddy,” he giggles when you look over at him for the first time in this encounter and then he walks away.

as he sits on the bed in your bedroom, he awaits the sound of your footsteps, knowing he’s won. the door opens, and you walk in too casually, enough to make him suspicious, until he’s pulled onto your lap with your lips on his shoulder. your hands sneak under his hoodie, and his hands brace himself on your shoulders for stability, “ah- y/n-”

“baby, i did not set aside my work that’s due tomorrow morning to come fuck your brains out just for you to call me that,” he shivers, so incredibly turned on, “try again.”

—

taglist: @lovingonrepeat @neosincity @sub-hoshi-enthusiast @multidreams-and-desires @hobilluvvr @vanillaknj @yr-domxfantasies @treasure-hwa @fleurshopsub @rubyscloud9 @silencefavarchive @nct99 @bigkpopstan @monstaxdirtywonk @domreaderrecs @mochi-ficz and always feel free to ask to be added to/removed from the taglist <3

[yesimwriting]

Crossing lines

General Kirigan/the darkling x reader

Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha

a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!! 

-- 

Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread. 

But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing. 

Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly. 

General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed. 

The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds. 

I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way. 

When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night? 

I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark. 

I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan. 

Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer. 

I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.

“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty. 

I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.

“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.” 

I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.” 

He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.” 

And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?” 

Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.” 

I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down. 

I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”

He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.” 

There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting. 

“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit. 

Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?” 

The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.” 

He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” 

The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.” 

I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.” 

That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.

I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?” 

“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”

This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.” 

“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.” 

“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.” 

At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.

“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second. 

“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?” 

There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.” 

“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.

There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?” 

He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.” 

“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.” 

My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.” 

I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t. 

Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone. 

“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways. 

He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.” 

Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place. 

Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more. 

“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.” 

He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.” 

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.” 

The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his  hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.

He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me. 

“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches. 

His fingers press more firmly into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.” 

“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.” 

If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.” 

“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.” 

...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.” 

“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.” 

His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him. 

The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact. 

“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.” 

I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not. 

He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…” 

“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?” 

His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.” 

“More than I should?” 

Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.” 

His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?” 

There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”

“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.” 

“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.” 

“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”

“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?” 

Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”

“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.” 

Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it’s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--” 

His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.” 

Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.” 

“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.” 

He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.” 

This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh. 

“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.” 

My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown. 

Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.” 

“Kirigan--” 

“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.” 

His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear. 

“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it. 

He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before. 

I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”

He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.” 

His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”

“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”

When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine. 

“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.” 

Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip. 

One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.” 

A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly. 

“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more. 

Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.” 

Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.” 

No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise. 

“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.” 

“I’ll tell the others, General.”

Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived. 

“I have to go.” 

Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.

He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.” 

Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--” 

“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.” 

This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?” 

“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.” 

My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible. 

 He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is. 

“Soon,” he promises again. 

--

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[hansolmates]

cherry contact |🍒

summary: jihoon has access to all versions of you - your credit score, shopping habits, work emails, even your terrible tinder history. pairing; fbi agent!jihoon x civilian!reader (f) genre/warnings; fluff, crack, it’s really just that “your fbi agent” meme that caused everyone 8 years ago to put tape over their webcams, questionable viewing habits for an fbi agent, language, dick talk, mentions of sex, jihoon has feelings and is confused, he is a PINER, tw—sexual harassment  w/c; 3.3k  a/n; i can’t believe i finished this😭😭 part of meraki’s job collaboration and i’ve been dying to do a svt collab since the dawn of time and finally today’s the day! it’s been a hot moment since i’ve written for jihoon, glad i managed to get those svt writing muscles going! a huge thank you to @merakiiverse​ and @woozisnoots​ for putting this together. readers pls definitely check back on the masterlist linked above to see more of the other talented cwc writers and their rendition of the job prompt!

if you like this fic please consider giving it a like n’share!🤓🖥🤓🖥

“Kevin, 32, works at Kodak,” you scroll further to the description, “I love being tied up and need a dominatrix, have swing at home—no.” Swipe right. 

“Lisa, 24, works at Infinity Dance Studio,” you definitely are weak for athletic ladies, “My hobbies include cuticle care and online shopping! Looking for a sugar daddy or mommy that can spoil me rotten—definitely can’t afford that kind of relationship.” Swipe right. 

“Hansol, 26, works in an art museum,” sounds promising, you love art, “wait, why are all his pictures of him holding fish? Is he inside a fish? Who the heck finds that attractive?” Swipe right. 

“Billiam, 31, works in finance. Needs a bratty baby girl who can triangle,” you grimace, “what is with these guys and stating their kinks from the get-go? Gotta take a girl out to dinner first, and the fuck is a triangle?” 

You swore off Tinder since the dark ages, also known as senior year of college. However you’re in a particular slump, thirst-trapped between needing some serious dick and a committed relationship. You’d prefer the latter, but after a stressful day at work and the fact that it’s the ass crack o’dawn, you’ll take what you can get. 

“Bye Billiam,” you sing-song into your phone, moving to swipe right. 

Except you accidentally drop your phone between your sheets, and when you pick it up you accidentally swipe left. 

“Fuck fuck fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget!” you cry out into oblivion. You’re so glad you live alone at the very least, it stops you from looking like a crazy person when you talk your potential sexipades out. 

Billiam has Super-liked you! 

“No. Nononono—” you bludgeon your head against your pillow, frowning when your phone opens up a chat for you and Billiam. 

Billiam: hi can u check if my dick is too small

You: please, don’t send me a picture of your dick. 

Billiam is typing… 

You: for fuck’s sake—

“—that’s disgusting,” Jihoon curses, and immediately sends out the screenshot for sexual harassment. 

“What’s disgusting?” Mingyu chimes, swiveling in his spinny chair from his side of the room.

“Don’t look,” Jihoon gags, reaching for a bottle of Coca-Cola from the mini-fridge. “You’ll throw up your fried chicken.” 

“My person is a twenty-one year old nympho who also happens to be a incel,” Mingyu chastises to his screen, closing up the eighth tab of BBC porn he’s seen this week, “he doesn’t know how well he’s avoiding the FBI’s eyes,” Mingyu shakes his head, “so I’ve seen some pretty bad shit, but I’ll take your word for it.” 

“No,” he echoes your name like you’ve done the most heinous thing in the world, “no, no! Why would you swipe left on Jackson? You’re way out of his league! He literally looks like he has a pea-sized brain!” 

“He does look like he has half a brain cell,” your voice reverberates through his noise-cancelling headphones, unknowingly agreeing to Jihoon’s passionate throw of anger, “but I’m deprived and desperate, so!” 

It’s like you can hear his sentiments exactly. 

“Literally, you could have any person you want,” Jihoon chastises through his desktop, glaring heavily at your bedroom camera, “you’re wasting your time with these losers!” 

Oblivious, you let yourself dangle across the bed. The camera isn’t the best quality, but Jihoon watches intently at the rise and fall of your chest as you attempt to fall into a fitful sleep. 

“Some yell at screens for soccer,” Minghao says to the air from his cubicle, “some yell for Starcraft, but Jihoon yells for Tinder like it’s an Olympic sport.” 

“Jihoonie,” Mingyu rolls around his chair, resting a long arm over the backrest, “do you have a crush on your civilian?” 

Jihoon immediately swivels around his hair, meeting the amused eyes of Mingyu. “No,” he says sharply, whipping around to glare at his screen. 

He glares harder the longer Mingyu’s simple question sinks in. He doesn’t have a crush on you, he likes you. Jihoon swallows his sigh, wondering why you would want to go as low as Tinder to look for a potential tryst. From your profile, you’re absolutely beautiful and intelligent. You have simple pleasures that match his—a hot cup of tea right after dark, snuggling under a weighted blanket while watching anime, and sleeping in on Sundays.

Unlike him, you don’t see the world through half a dozen lenses and a plethora of information right at your fingertips. No, you’re lucky. 

“Hey can you grab me my water bottle?” Mingyu asks over his shoulder. 

Jihoon thinks nothing of it, leaving his post for the thirty seconds it takes to get to the mini-fridge and grab Mingyu’s Hydroflask. 

“You got a call,” Mingyu says when he plops the bottle on his desk, indicating to the red blinker on Jihoon’s computer. 

It isn’t until he puts on his headphones does he take care to see why his blinker is going off. 

He’s getting an incoming call. From you. 

You’ve been waiting on the line for about two minutes. He lets two additional minutes breeze by because Jihoon is internally screaming. You’re calling again. There’s a fire blazing in his brain, his fingers hot as he twitches against the spacebar of his keyboard. 

From the monitor he can see that you’ve given up on sleep, hands pawing through your drawer so you can take a final swipe at your magenta-tinted lip balm before nesting yourself in the sheets. You’re kicking around as if you don’t have work at 9AM, smacking your lips to apply the shiny salve while you wait for your call to be picked up. 

“Why is my civilian calling me,” it isn’t a question, it’s a thinly veiled indication that Jihoon is ready to fight whoever compromised him like this. 

Mingyu and Minghao fail to answer. That’s okay, he isn’t opposed to killing both if neither fess up. 

It would be so easy for him to ignore the call, or redirect it to another part of the office. Yet he aches to talk to you, for real talk to you. As if you’re just two regular plain-old human beings with normal lives, and as if he didn’t know every nook and cranny about your daily routine and your favorite breakfast foods.

Call it pride, call it confidence, but Jihoon’s been pretty good at games and he hopes prior experience helps him get over this hurdle. Slipping on his headset, he accepts the call and answers in a controlled voice, “This is the local hotline for sexual harassment reports, are you here to report a case?” 

Okay, so this is the closest thing he can get to having a full-fledged conversation with you, so he’ll take it. 

“Hi,” you mumble your name into the phone, and he nearly disintegrates right then and there. It’s different when he can hear your voice directly in his ears, definitively reaching out to him as opposed to being a fly on the wall, “I received an email that a report was sent out for my previous chat as sexual harassment, but I didn’t send out a report.” 

“Yes,” Jihoon replies smoothly, tapping his nails against his thighs, “it’s a new update.” 

“Oh, well thank you,” you reply, and Jihoon sees from the camera that you’re staring at your phone in curiosity. 

“It’s my job,” he says, and the words hold more weight than you think, “are you okay?” 

“Is it also your job to ask how I’m doing?” 

He smiles wryly, and he looks up at the monitor to see how you’ve considerably relaxed on your bed. Your legs dangle in the air, and you’re hugging a mango plushie with all the love in the world. “Not really, but I figured I’d ask. I don’t think I’d be able to recover from a dick that looks like an unhinged toenail.” 

Your laugh flutters in his ears, and his stomach is flip-flopping with more than just his shitty ramen lunch. Your face curls and wrinkles into happiness at the lewd joke, and you rest your chin on your stuffed fruit. 

“I’m okay,” you finally answer, “it’s not the first time I’ve seen subpar dick. But thank you… what’s your name?” 

“Uji,” he says, a codename that he considers as precious as his actual name, “feel free to call or text this number if you’re ever feeling uncomfortable and in distress.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, good night Uji.” 

“Good night.” 

That wasn’t so bad, Jihoon thinks as he hangs up the phone. He dims the monitors to let you freshen up and get ready for bed, as per your schedule. After tonight, he hopes he can be sated with his curiosity of you. Maybe he needs to follow your plans and open up a dating account or something, he feels that he’s starting to get a little too engrossed in your presence. 

The waning starts today. 

You: help, i’m feeling uncomfortable and in distress

Uji: what is it this time? 

You: i can’t decide which weighted blanket i should get. Will more weight make me feel more comforted or will i accidentally suffocate myself in my sleep? 

The waning of you did not start that night, in fact it never began. Jihoon’s been on edge for weeks, simultaneously teetering between what he calls the high-school equivalent of the talking stage and an absolute catastrophe. 

It started as an accident, you meant to call your friend’s number for cooking help but since the last call before your friends was his, you called Jihoon instead. To your surprise, he knew how to roll out homemade pasta without a pasta machine. You kept him on the call for the entirety of dinner preparation, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride when your pasta turned out perfect and you were happy and full for the entire night. 

Weeks later, and you’ve been texting each other for shits and giggles. At first you chalk up your insistence that he’s basically Human Google and has the answers to seemingly anything and everything, but over time it seems that you enjoy your daily interactions with him. Whether it be a simple phone call asking how to unclog your drain or a screenshot comparing two different KitchenAids, he’s at your disposal. 

The burner phone he’s been holding as of late is on silent, but he’s able to pick it up immediately. It’s almost intuition, coupled with the way he notices whenever you seem in a pickle and you need to contact him. However he does not have a chance to formulate a reply, as you’re now calling him.

“Couldn’t wait?” he speaks as if you’re familiar with each other, as if you’re friends. Jihoon longs for that so much, he would love to be upgraded to someone other than the IT guy you text for funsies. 

“Yes,” you say, voice laced with determination, “I’m deciding on whether to just like or Super-Like this guy on Light a Flame.” 

Jihoon deflates a little, but steels himself. You’d never want to go on a date with the IT guy, it seems that you enjoy the anonymity of your recent communications. Your conversations are definitely meme-worthy. 

“Who is it?” 

“His name’s Lee Jihoon, 25, works in the FBI.” 

He chokes on his coffee, precious beans from Argentina, and the liquid is flying across his keyboard. 

Pulling up your phone view, it confirms the worst. In a moment of Weakness with a capital W, Jihoon had caved and made a Light a Flame profile the other night. It’s an app reserved for more serious relationships, which means you’ve finally graduated from Tinder. 

“Are you okay?” he wants to cry when he hears you on the other line, genuinely panicked. “Do you need me to send you his profile?” 

“N-no,” he sputters, rubbing a rough napkin from McDonalds over his dripping chin. He thought he privated his profile last week after he realized there was nothing he could do to let loose of you. Turns out that isn’t the case, because you’re currently pursuing his profile and actually kinda-sorta considering him for a potentially serious relationship. 

“C’mon, Uji,” you tease lightly, “you always seem to know what to do. This is your area of expertise after all, since you work for that kind of department.” 

What should he do, scratch that, what can he do? It’s a complete violation of policy to be fraternizing with his civilian life. Sure, there has been episodes of civilians and agents meeting each other, but only minor violations that both parties forgot about shortly after. He’s so far deep at this point, he can risk being relocated or losing his civilian—losing you. 

“Do you think he really works in the FBI?” you say when he doesn’t reply immediately, “he’s really cute, though. Totally looks like my style, and he likes My Hero as well! C’mon, I just need for you to check as to whether he’s a homicidal maniac or a compulsive liar.” 

Liar. He’s a liar. 

That self-accusation prompts him to slump in defeat, and he mumbles in the phone, “I don’t think he’s worth it. I’d say pass.” 

“Hey, Coups has seniority,” Soonyoung pats Jihoon thoughtfully on the back with one hand, and grilling meat with the other. Barbeque always lifted up Jihoon’s spirits. “Why don’t you give it a chance and meet her for real? And then he can give me your super cute civilian and then he can give my shitty civilian to some newbie.” 

“And if it doesn’t work out, I just lose her,” Jihoon’s eyes are watering, most likely from the excess smoke around their grill, but it does align with his current state of sadness. It was the right thing to do, he thinks over and over as he replays that phonecall from last night. “Hoshi, if you were in my situation, would you have done the same?” 

“Like I said–” Soonyoung—codename Hoshi, waves his tongs around like a magic wand, “your civilian is super cute, so I would be making a beeline to her house and—” 

“Okay, don’t finish that sentence,” you’re his civilian, not Soonyoung’s. 

“Cheer up, c’mon,” Soonyoung’s filling his bowl with all sorts of delicious things, charred vegetables, mixed rice, and pork belly. Jihoon’s favorite is pork belly, so eventually he relents with a timid smile, taking out his chopsticks to appease his friend, “there it is, Uji. Food always makes things better—” 

“Uji?” 

Both off-duty agents freeze, hearing the familiar ting of your voice as it glares holes into Jihoon’s back. It’s you. Since they’re off the clock, he would have no idea you’d be here. Usually that’s fine, it’s early morning and it’s pretty unlikely that you’d run into your civilian considering you’re supposed to know every second of their schedule. It seems that tonight you’ve varied from the norm. 

“Uh, hey?” 

His back is still facing you, and he’s side eying Soonyoung in a panic. He’s wearing a cap and a nondescript hoodie, feeling like a shlub as your familiar voice pings back at him with excitement. 

“I knew I recognized your voice!” you’re unfazed, definitely not realizing the distress the two men are currently going through. “What a small world, I didn’t think we’d ever actually run into each other!” 

“Talk to her, you ass!” Soonyoung hisses, and immediately swivels his chair so he has no choice but to face you.

You’re so, so pretty. Prettier in person, prettier than any crappy 480p screen can give him. You’re definitely not dressed for barbeque, in fact you look like you’re just passing by to pick up a to-go order after a night out. You’re dressed in a silky looking velvet off-the-shoulder top, the cherry red color practically melting onto your skin. The black skirt paired with it has Jihoon salivating for more than just barbeque, and he has no idea how to look away. 

The smile is wiped clean off your face however, and you recognize him almost immediately. “Jihoon?” 

This should be a moment of joy for him, after all it’s far too late to go back at this point. You look a little hurt, your face twisted in confusion as you put two and two together. 

Soonyoung excuses himself to go to the bathroom, although neither party seems to care. The lame, over-distended EDM music that plays over the cacophony of the barbeque place seems to melt in the atmosphere, much like how the smoke hits the fan, and it’s just you two in the room. Jihoon gestures a pale hand to Soonyoung’s seat, and you take a beat to reluctantly sit yourself down. 

You clutch your skirt with both hands, thumbs ringing against the pleats and ironing them out. “So, you’re also Jihoon?” your voice is tiny, small and sad. Jihoon feels liquid guilt inject in his veins, and he wishes he could reach out and pat your shoulder, hold your hand, something. However no matter how much he knows you, he’s a stranger to you. “Why did you lie to me?” 

“It’s… complicated,” you shake your head at his pathetic reply, and Jihoon hates this. He feels like he’s drowning in smoke and mirrors and the cloying scent of pork belly is now sticking to all his senses, immobilizing him. 

With a cross of your arms, you scoff, “It’s always complicated.” 

“Please don’t think I said those things the other night because I don’t want to date you,” Jihoon tumbles the words out like a hamster wheel, wanting to speed up to your pace as fast as he can, “I want to, I really do, but it’s—”

“Complicated.” 

“Yeah.” 

The two of you sit in silence, letting the noise back into your little bubble. Jihoon feels his stare on you, akin to how a teacher looks over your shoulder during an exam. He robotically eats rice, grain after grain as he lets you have your look. 

The slope of his nose, the cotton smooth skin, the lean yet strong stature. You can’t believe he matches the Light a Flame profile perfectly. Other than the frumpy clothes, he matches the man on your phone, a simple picture in a black suit that reminds you strangely of the movie Kingsman. You mentally roll through what you remember from his profile, his hobbies, his likes and dislikes, his occupation—

“Wait,” you pause, your brows knitting together, “so the FBI thing on your profile… is not a joke?” 

Jihoon forgets to chew his last bite, and he swallows a whole two centimeters of meat down his throat. Ouch. 

“It’s—” 

“Complicated.” 

The adjective has a whole new meaning now. It’s crazy how in so little words, so much is exchanged between you two. You might not be realizing it, but Jihoon’s so attuned to you he feels like the pick to your guitar, strumming and humming along your chords like it’s second nature. It really isn’t fair, but anticipating your reactions helps greatly. 

“There’s things you’re not telling me.” 

“Right.” 

“And things you can’t tell me,” you add. 

“Yes.” 

“Then what are some things you can tell me?” 

“I’d… rather not here,” Jihoon’s eyes dart around the room, looking for all the pinholes and micro cams attached to the restaurant. By the bonsai, under the table, in the koi tank, “I need to work out some paperwork before anything.” 

“Paperwork?” 

Jihoon nods mutely, but he looks at you with a litany of emotions in his eyes you’re reeling back in your stool. Why do you feel like this man knows you from a simple five-minute interaction? And why do you feel like you can trust this man with your life? 

“Okay,” you finally say. 

“Really? Okay?” you think he’s cute, the way his eyes perk up and his back straightens. 

“Really.” 

Silence fills the space once more. This time however, it feels more at ease. 

“The only reason why I’m saying yes,” you pretend to nonchalantly play with your fingertips, a manicure reserved for a date you’ve long abandoned for this evening in favor of a new flame, “is because I think FBI agents are kinda hot.” 

A flush blooms on Jihoon’s cheeks, and you can’t help but giggle. 

[rhysismydaddy]

Unholy Matrimony Pt. 1 (Nessian)

Nesta’s part of the Damnation Series.

OOF this took so long sorry. I rewrote it, changed it, then deleted it entirely about 9 times. I literally started writing the version before you, from scratch, on Sunday. All parts are linked below, so I’m only tagging people on this version! To go to the next chapter, there is also a link at the bottom <3

ALSO, an important caviat: Nesta is an only child in this one! I originally wrote it for her to be adopted and not know it, but it wasn’t really relevant to the story, so... idk. Just ignore that plot hole I guess.

Parts 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 -- pls like each part I’m insecure

______________________________________________

~Cassian~

“You’re getting married.”

The glass of bourbon halfway to my mouth pauses, because despite being known for being rash and unpredictable, even I’m surprised by the sudden change in conversation.

My eyebrows raise as I look over at Rhysand, my best friend and Capo, trying to figure out if this bastard is serious. His tone says he is, but that doesn’t make sense, because before a few seconds ago, the word “marriage” was in neither of our vocabularies.

He’s been single for as long as I have, although I’m starting to suspect he’s got a bird in the city. He’s too damn happy these days, and the other day I saw him laugh at something on his phone.

Which is weird, because we both know long-term commitments don’t really do well with our lifestyle.

We were raised to not give a shit about anything except the job. We kill without remorse, live in the shadows, and whatever other shitty euphemism you want to use. Settling down in some suburban, picket-fence prison has absolutely no appeal to Made Men.

Don’t get me wrong, most of us get married at some point. But never for love.

Some men choose a bride that’s pretty and sweet. Someone who will donate to charity and help clean up their image. Governors’ daughters, women from old-money families, and social princesses make up this category.

Some men marry to advance their station in the Family. Second sons who will never inherit the business marry daughters of Underbosses to get a nice boost to their status.

And then there’s the ones who are forced to marry by their capo--ie. me-- so they choose whatever attractive woman that’s in the Family and available. Those are always the happiest.

But regardless of the reasoning, marriage in the mafia is heartless, political, and for me, unnecessary.

I know I’ll have to pick someone eventually, but there aren’t a whole lot of desirable options at the moment. Not many of the other Underbosses have daughters that are over the age of fifteen right now, and I have no interest in doing the child-bride thing.

Plus, there’s no way I’d marry someone outside of the family. At my rank, it isn’t an option.

That leaves... a widow?

The only one I know is Ianthe, and considering I highly suspect she killed her last husband and the fact that she’s crazy, there’s no way in hell I’d legally bind myself to her for life.

So he must be joking.

I take a pull from my cigar and look over at Rhys with narrowed eyes. “Uh huh. Sure. To who, exactly?”

“Volchonok.”

The Wolf Cub.

The cigar snaps in my fingers.

“You’re fucking kidding,” I say, honestly hoping that’s the case. He’s either that or insane, and I’d hate to lock someone who’s like a brother to me in a padded room.

Rhysand’s unflinching gaze doesn’t change, but his tone morphs from that of my friend to my boss. “You will marry her, Cassian.”

“She’s a fucking Russian,” I spit, not understanding. That should be reason enough for him to be joking.

In our world, being Russian is a crime similar to stabbing the Pope.

We’ve been at war over New York with them ever since they decided to try and get a stronghold on the east coast, and I’ve killed more of them than I can fucking count. Now I’m marrying one?

“Yes, she is, and so is her father, Alexei Olov.” Aka the Bratva Boss responsible for blowing up half of St. Petersburg last year when the local police refused to buy his weapons. “You will marry her, move to New York full time, and run the city with her by your side.”

“Why? Two or three more years, and we’ll have the city anyway.” Every day the Russians get weaker, and I’ve been responsible for pushing them out of my city block by block.

So there has to be a reason we’re suddenly okay with the enemy.

Rhysand sighs. “It was his idea, not mine. Orlov has agreed to sell our coke in Moscow and Seattle instead of his usual dealer and will supply us all the weapons we need for five years. There will also be no more midnight raids, bullshit arrests on bullshit charges, or missing shipments. He’s offering you a dowry, too.”

I don’t need his money, but the old fashioned term makes me laugh.

“Yeah? And how much does he think his wolf cub is worth?”

His lips twitch. “Ten million.”

“She must be a real pain in the ass, then, if he’s going to pay me that much to take her,” I chuckle.

Not that ten million dollars is anything but pocket change for the man. Orlov may be losing the fight in New York, but the bastard is richer than sin. 

Selling arms to half of the entire world will do that to a person.

“I hear she’s beautiful,” he says, trying to tempt me to not fight him.

“Then you marry her,” I shoot back, not ready to give up the argument.

“I don’t feel like it.” Fucking typical. Rhysand sighs. “You and I both know we can work this deal to our advantage, so what will make you say yes?”

He could order to me to say yes and I’d have to, but he hates enforcing that kind of authority with me.

So I think it over, make a show of lighting a new cigar. “I want Sera.”

It’s a burlesque club in New York I’ve always been a little envious of, owned by Orlov and operated by his men. I’d tried to buy it a few years back but hadn’t had enough leverage on the Russian to strongarm him into selling.

Now I do.

Rhysand--the only one who knows about my failed attempt to buy the place--nods and tells me he’ll make it happen.

“When’s all this happening, anyway?”

He looks like he might laugh. “Wedding is in a month, but she’s flying in tomorrow night.”

A quick laugh forces its way out of me. Also typical of him to give me absolutely no time to change my mind.

Well, I have a month. That’s already longer than any relationship I’ve ever had. 

Sighing, I stand and shake his hand, cementing the deal before I can even lament the loss of my bachelorhood.

~Nesta~

“Chto sluchilos?”

I slide my gaze to my father, because seriously, that’s the stupidest fucking question I’ve ever heard. 

What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Everything.

“Nichego,” I lie, assuring him for what feels like the tenth time as I look out the window. The plane picks up speed and lifts off, taking me towards an uncertain future, an uncertain place.

I might have told him nothing’s wrong, but inside, I’m screaming.

Three days ago, I woke up to find a marriage contract on the pillow beside me. There was a blank space where my name had been typed and a pen waiting for me to remedy that.

I still haven’t.

I’m not signing anything until I meet this... Cassian. 

God, what an Italian name.

An image springs to mind, one of a slumped-over, hairy-chest beast with slicked back hair and a gold chain. 

I know it’s stereotypical and hopefully incorrect, but I’ve never been to Italy and Alexei strictly forbids me watching movies that portray Italians as anything except revolting. 

But looks aside, there’s one thing I don’t need to guess to know. 

My future husband will be like all the other men in my life: controlling.

Men in the world I live in take what they want, don’t ask for permission, and feel like they’re entitled to anything and everything. I’ve dealt with it my entire life, so it’s more amusing than anything at this point.

I guess I’m a bit non-traditional in that sense, considering most of the women around me have no problems taking orders from their fathers or husbands. But Alexei and I figured out pretty early in life that wasn’t going to work for me.

As he frequently likes to tell me, I started telling him to fuck off when I was five.

What did he expect? All the kids I hung out with were the opposite sex and at least five years older than me, so my vocabulary and mannerisms became pretty... colorful early on.

Regardless, I’m just not looking forward to having to deal with yet another man who thinks he can control me.

“Ty vresh',” Alexei accuses, lips twitching. You’re lying. 

“Konechno.” Of course. 

Of course I’m upset, but I understand what’s happening. I might have found out about it three days ago, but I’ve known it was coming for far longer.

As the only child of the great Alexei Orlov, Wolf of Moscow and Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, I’ve been told my entire life that I will one day be used as a pawn to gain more power.

It would--should--piss me off, but I’ve also been told I’m to one day take my father’s place and run his company.

So by gaining more power for him, I’m also doing the same for myself.

Not that I really give a shit about that kind of thing. I started officially working for Alexei years ago, and I already have enough money saved to never have to work again. 

But in the Bratva, there’s no getting out. I was put in this world by birth, and the only thing that will take me out is death. 

In case it isn’t obvious, I’m not a typical business woman. 

My father is an arms-dealer. 

A less than legal one, if you believe the heinous lies the media spreads about him.

He sells weapons to governments, private armies, and whoever the fuck else has the money to buy. 

He’s also built himself a shipping empire to haul said weapons around the globe, runs the drugs and prostitute rings in Moscow, and has enough real estate to rival most small countries.

It probably sounds like I don’t care, and that’s because I don’t. 

I like what I do in the sense that I have a mind for business. I went to business school and graduated at the top of my class, and I enjoy running the clubs and hotels I have. Trained by Alexei himself, I’m ruthless in negotiations, enough so that people started calling me the Wolf Cub by the time I was twenty. 

But despite being good at it, I’m not particularly fond of the aspect most people think of when they picture my career in the Bratva. I detest drugs, have never hired a prostitute, and don’t really enjoy selling arms to bad people. 

The alleyway meetups, the broken bones and bullet holes, and the blown up houses are all a little tiring to me.

Sure, it sounds exciting. And for a while, it was. I used to lose myself in the chaos, used to enjoy coming home with busted knuckles. But I honestly just got tired of it.

Right now, I don’t have to deal with it as much because Alexei’s still alive. But when he dies and I officially take over the family business, I’ll have to be more involved. Even if the thought makes me want to sigh.

I pull out my laptop and look over the financial report for Sera, my newest club in New York. As predicted, everything’s running smoothly. 

I turn the laptop around to show my father, grinning when he pulls out his reading glasses and leans closer. 

“Starik,” I tease. Old man. 

He flicks my forehead, then reads the report and nods. Then he turns to his phone, probably playing Angry Birds or some shit, and leaves me to work.

The plane ride goes by quickly, and by the time we’ve landed in Chicago, I’ve gotten ahead on my schedule for next week, slept, and changed into what I’ve chosen as the “meeting my future husband” dress.

It’s simple and sleek, the black material clinging to my curves without being obscene. It’s long enough to hide the holster on my thigh, not that I feel in any danger with four personal guards stationed near me at all times.

My heels click as I make my way down the plane stairs and across the tarmac to the waiting sedan, and once my luggage and belongings are unloaded, we head to the Italian Capo’s house.

We’re meeting here, finalizing the contract, and then Cassian and I are flying to New York. 

My new home.

“Try to look happy,” Alexei tells me, his heavily accented English almost ridiculous to hear. He speaks English only when he’s in the states, and considering he hasn’t come here since I graduated B school two years ago, he’s a little out of practice.

“I’m ecstatic,” I say, intentionally using a word I know he doesn’t understand.

His eyes narrow, because it isn’t the first time I’ve used this trick, but he doesn’t call me out on it. We continue to ride in ecstatic silence, eventually pulling up in front of the Capo’s... house.

It’s almost obscene to call it that, considering it’s fucking huge. Like obnoxiously huge.

I heave a sigh, step out of the car, and take in my surroundings. The neighborhood’s quiet, likely filled with friends of the Cosa Nostra too scared to make any noise. 

A butler--seriously, a butler--opens the door and welcomes us inside, and as soon as I step in, I have to repress the urge to roll my eyes.

The amount of dirty money in the air is suffocating. It drips off the vaulted ceilings, down the artwork on the walls, across the marble floors. It’s in the little details of the crystal chandeliers and the mahogany staircase. 

Ridiculous.

One look at Alexei’s disgusted face says he’s thinking the same thing.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re rich. Grossly so. Alexei could have ten houses just like this, if he wanted them.

But he doesn’t. He owns property all over the world, but most of it is commercial or apartment complexes--property that makes him money, in other words. This, however, is a massive waste of capital. 

The butler leads us further through the house and into an office where four men wait. 

One is immediately identifiable as their lawyer, his over-priced cologne making me have to resist the urge to sneeze. The humongous man in the corner is hired muscle, if the boxy shape of the guns under his jacket is any indication.

The man behind the desk is obviously in charge, so I’m guessing he’s the Capo. Rhysand or Rhyland or something weird like that. He takes me in silently, bright eyes not seeming to miss any details. 

That leaves the man leaning against the desk to be Cassian Azara.

My fiancé. 

Our eyes meet, his golden gaze beautiful and wild, and I have to remember to keep my expression bored. 

Because the stereotype, the horrible image I’d conjured up in my mind, couldn’t be further from the truth.

For one, he isn’t hunched-over. He stands tall, leaning a hip against his Capo’s desk with obvious confidence. But I see more than just self-assuredness in his eyes. He seems a little too rough around the edges, wild gaze almost like he’s daring someone to swing at him. 

If the confidence didn’t already make him attractive, his looks sure as hell get the job done.

His hairs long and dark and curly, half of it pulled up in a rouge manner that clashes with the suit he’s filling. He has a few days’ stubble, too, like standing still long enough to shave just isn’t an option. 

His shoulders are impossibly wide, narrowing down to trim hips and legs long enough to make him tower over everyone in the room. 

His knuckles are tattooed and split open, and there’s a cut above his eyebrow that tells me I was correct to assume he’s a fighter by nature. 

Usually, that would be a deterrent for me, but there’s something about the way he’s dressed in a dark suit jacket and crisp white shirt while also looking so untamed that has me cocking my head to study him some more. 

He studies me, too, beautiful eyes taking in the long blonde hair and bright blue eyes offset by pale skin. He looks at the dress like he can see everything underneath, and I have the strangest urge to blush. Jesus, he’s toxic.

He’s attractive, is what I’m getting at.

Which is not what I had planned on, considering I’d been trying to think of a plan on how to not sleep with him, but suddenly that’s all my mind can focus on.

His lips twitch like he knows what I’m thinking, and I realize we’ve just been standing here staring at each other for a bit too long.

So I turn back to Alexei and shrug like I’ve seen what my future husband has to offer and aren’t impressed in the slightest. 

I toss the marriage contract on the desk, grab the Capo’s fancy little fountain pen out of his hand, and sign my name on the blank above my name. 

Cassian watches, but I ignore him entirely until the ink has dried. Then I look up at him through my lashes and wink, turn on my heel, and leave the room.

~Cassian~

I think I’m in love.

Fuck.

She hasn’t said a single goddamn word, but the way she looked at me has me feeling itchy all over, anticipation and nerves rolling through me. I feel like I feel before I fight or something exciting happens.

Like I’m primed and ready and need it to happen now. 

Nesta Orlov, my bride to be, is nothing like I expected. 

I was fully braced for some meek little woman, similar to most of my friends’ wives, to come in and smile and say hello. 

But nope. Nesta didn’t smile; she came in like she was walking onto a battlefield. 

And she didn’t smile. She looked me over, clinical blue gaze noticing too much, and left me feeling winded. God, she’s beautiful. Just looking at her made me hot.

She also didn’t say hello. 

Just signed the contract and left, like this was nothing more to her than a boring business deal. I mean, that’s what it is, but... I don’t know, I expected more of a reaction. 

I’ve heard from some Underbosses that their wives cried or raged when they were forced to sign, but shit if that were the case with Nesta. She honest to God looked like she didn’t care.

Alexei, on the other hand, does look a little pissed about the situation, but I couldn’t care less of the old man’s opinion. He’s signed the contract, so to me, he’s irrelevant. Regardless, he and Rhys proceed to iron out some of the details about the wedding and other shit I’m not paying attention to.

Then they shake hands, and the Russian warlord turns to leave. 

He reaches the door and looks over his shoulder at me, and there’s amusement in his cold gaze as he mutters, “Udachi.” Good luck. 

As soon as he’s gone, Roman and the lawyer follow, leaving me alone with Rhys. 

He slides the contract to me, and I sign my name next to hers, making this shit official. 

“This should be interesting,” he comments, vague as usual. 

I sigh, because I have a feeling interesting isn’t going to cover it. 

_____________________________________________________

NEXT CHAPTER

Tags: @elorcan-trash @januarystears @emikadreams @sjm-things @santas-dwynwen @thebitchupstairs @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @masstrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[alpacaparkaseok]

Lost & Found - 13

Pairing: Park Jimin x soulmate (oc)

Warnings: Insecurity, anxiety, abandonment, oc feels like she’s gonna puke which, honestly, same

Word Count: 5.3k

a/n: we’ve only got a few chapters left!!!! *cue the screaming*

Chapter 13. You Never Walk Alone

series masterlist

I’ve never been one to follow the rules.

In fact, I’ve wondered many times if I came into existence for the sole purpose of breaking as many rules as possible within a short amount of time.

However, as I sit here staring down at my phone and listening to it ringing without someone answering on the other end, I find myself promising whoever is listening to my prayers that I’ll obey every rule to come my way for the rest of my life as long as someone just answers me.

For hours, no one does.

By the time the moon has risen, I’ve finally dozed off on the couch with my phone still in hand and a very confused Elle on my stomach. When my phone begins to ring, I jump, nearly falling off of the couch in the process.

Without even bothering to see who is calling me, I bring the phone up to my ear.

“Yah, hyung. I’m already- oh...Jolie?”

I blink, wondering for a moment if this is all some cruel dream. “...Jimin? What’s going on- what happened?”

“You’re safe- she’s safe, hyung.” There’s chatter in the background, but my ears perk up at a familiar voice. “I’m so sorry, you must have been worried sick- hey!”

“Jolie?”

I jump off the couch, eyes wide. “Chung-hei?! What’s going on? Why haven’t you been answering your phone? I- I thought…”

I don’t quite know what I thought. Obviously, that the worst had transpired. Chung-hei knows exactly what path my thoughts have taken, as she’s quick to explain.

“I’m so sorry, Jolie. When we left your place Sunmi noticed that someone was tailing us,” my breath comes up short. “I think they thought you were with us, they might have been tailing the car for the past couple of days to make sure it was yours. And then they probably saw Christina…”

She doesn’t need to explain that to me. No doubt whoever was tailing them saw Christina with her severed thread and automatically assumed that she was Jimin’s estranged soulmate.

“So what happened? Is everyone ok? Is Christina alright?”

There’s some fumbling on the other side of the phone, and I swear I hear Chung-hei’s annoyed sigh but it’s quickly covered as another familiar voice breaks through the phone.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me!” Christina shouts a little unnecessarily.

“I- how did you hear me?” I ask, furrowing my brows. “Am I on speaker?”

There’s a long pause in which I know that I must be on speaker, especially as a voice that sounds mysteriously like Kim Seokjin shouts “Yeah you are we wanted to know what you sound like!” There’s a muffled grunt in which I can imagine someone giving him a firm elbow to the ribs.

“Hang on, let me step outside-” Christina’s suggestion is met with a load of whining, but she must ignore them because a second later all is silent save for the sound of wind. “There. I needed to get out of there- I’m freaking out. I’m so dying right now.”

“I’m sure you’re rattled, you were literally just tailed! How did you lose them?”

“Oh, yeah. That sucked, but I was talking about the fact that I literally just met BTS. I don’t want to spoil anything for you, but Park Jimin is so much more handsome in person. I couldn’t hardly think straight in there-”

“Yeah, yeah,” I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Save it for later. I was a mess over here, thinking you’d died or something. Can you please explain what went on?”

Once she subsides in her giggling - and I get over the strange butterflies that have somehow come to life in my stomach - Christina gets to the point.

“Right...well, we’d only made it a couple of blocks before Sumni noticed that someone was following us. She’s been trained to pick up on that kind of stuff, you know. She said that they’d been hiding out near your apartment earlier, and that it looked like they’d been waiting the entire time while we’d been inside.”

“So how’d you lose them?”

“She drove straight toward the Bighit building and contacted the security there. By the time the people tracking us knew that she was leading them into a trap, it was too late. They got pulled over, security took them over to the police department a little while ago.”

I shiver thinking about them lurking outside of my apartment, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

“And...why didn’t you answer my calls, then? I seriously was about to go running around Seoul looking for you.”

Christina barks a laugh. “That’d be a sight to see. We were told to power off our phones, they’re being looked at right now to make sure they weren’t able to somehow get a way to track us through there. We should get them back pretty soon.”

Taking a seat and then slinking down to sprawl out on the couch, I sight at the ceiling. My eyes well up tears of relief, but I close my eyes to stop them from escaping. “I’m happy you’re safe.”

“Me too. The boys were already at the Bighit building, you should’ve seen Jimin. He was-” Christina lowers her voice as though suddenly realizing that she’s not that far from the man in question, “You know how the boys say that he can be really scary when he’s angry?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I believe them now. I think it was a good thing security took those people away before he could see them. He probably would have killed them, he looked so pissed off.”

I snort out a laugh, throwing my hand over my mouth. “Let me guess, that only made him more attractive to you?”

“You know what, it totally did.”

It feels good to laugh after the stress of the day, so I let it out. Giggling up a storm with Christina who admits that she may be wavering in her undying devotion for Jimin simply because of the fact that Taehyung offered her a glass of lemonade.

“Oh, oh! He’s looking at me- oh. He’s telling me to come back inside.” I let out another guffaw at Christina’s massive crush on Taehyung. “Hey, I have to turn you back over to your soulmate now, but I’ll let you know when I get my phone back. Ok?”

“Ok,” I mumble, suddenly going quiet. There’s some static as the phone is exchanged, and suddenly Jimin’s speaking to me.

“Hey...you doing ok?”

I blink, taken aback by his question. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Then, when he doesn’t respond, “Are you...alright?”

From the way the voices in the background are fading, Jimin must be moving away to find a more private location. Indeed, I again hear Seokjin’s teasing voice in the background however it’s too muffled to understand.

“Yeah. All good over here.” I hear a door click shut. “There’s something I need to talk to you about, though. About everything that happened today. You might not like it, but...well, it’s for your own safety.”

This has me sitting up straight, bracing for whatever it is he’s about to say. “Ok…”

“We need you to stay inside, don’t leave your house. Just for a couple of days, maximum. We don’t know if these people had more that were trying to track you, and until we can round them all up…”

I stare blankly at the wall in front of me. Stay here? No work?

Honestly, it doesn’t sound that bad.

Except for one little thing.

“...Jolie?”

“I...I’m not sure, Jimin.”

“I know. I know, and I’m sorry,” it makes it so much worse, because I can hear just how sorry he is. “But please, just for a few days. We need- I need you safe.”

How can I say no to that?

“Alright.”

“You’ll do it? I’ll have groceries delivered, just text me what you need-”

“I’m pretty sure I can pay for my groceries, Jimin,” I say with a strained smile, eyeing the calendar on the wall and the circled date just a couple of days from now. Hopefully all of this will blow over by then. “Don’t worry.”

“Honestly, if you don’t send me a grocery list I’ll just end up sending random food to your apartment. So take your pick, I guess.”

Rolling my eyes fondly, I give an over exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I’ll compile a list.”

✂

The girls get their phones back not long after I finish my conversation with Jimin. Sunmi is quick to send me a play by play of Christina’s growing crush, which helps to ease the worry growing in the pit of my stomach.

The next morning there’s a pile of groceries waiting outside on my doorstep, making me smile softly. Jimin had clearly added a few items to my small list, because I don’t remember requesting a bag of chocolates or a bag of Doritos. Either way, I’ll take it.

There isn’t a whole lot to do with my day off, other than find a new show to watch and different ways to annoy Elle. Jimin texts me throughout the day, and I find myself itching to call him.

If only to just hear his voice for a moment.

However, as my fingers hover over the call button, I find myself hesitating. It scares me just how quickly I want to interact with him. After all that I did to distance myself from him, I’ve been reduced to an insatiable fangirl after a bouquet of flowers and some slipped chocolates.

Staring at my phone, I try my best to control my breathing. Then I send off a message.

Me: Ok, help. I’m freaking out.

Christina is quick to respond.

Christina 🍯: hahahahaha

Me: what.

Me: I come to you for help and I get laughed at? 😡

Christina 🍯: no, it’s just...when are you not freaking out?

Christina 🍯: think about it

Christina 🍯: you always are lol

Me: Ok. Not helping. Remember, I came to you for help?

Christina 🍯: right right, what’s up

Me: I think this is all happening too fast

Christina 🍯: I’m assuming this is about Park Jimin?? Who, might I add, looked fiiiine in his sweats yesterday

Me: QUIT IT

Me: I’M GROWING WEAK

Christina 🍯: are you feeling things?!! 😱

Me: YES OK I AM PLS HELP

Christina 🍯: I don’t see why you need help…?

Christina 🍯: isn’t this a good thing?

Me: is it?

Christina 🍯: ...yes.

Christina 🍯: what brought this on?

Me: I want to call him.

Christina 🍯: ….

Me: We just talked last night.

Christina 🍯: ….

Me: well, isn’t it all a bit much? I mean, I literally was trying to be completely separated from him just a few weeks ago and now I’m suddenly having to remind myself that I don’t need to constantly talk to him! Isn’t that like a bit...idk, a bit sketchy??

Christina 🍯: no.

Christina 🍯: idk if you remember this, but he’s your soulmate. And sometimes when people start to meet their soulmates, they want to talk all the time.

Me: isn’t it going to annoy him? I mean, I already kinda feel like a pity case…

Christina 🍯: first off, no. you’re not a pity case, so stop thinking that. If anyone’s a pity case, it’s me because I was invited to lunch today with Chung-hei nd the boys and I’m gonna ride this out for as long as possible

Christina 🍯: if I could sneak you a picture of Tae without looking like a creep, I totally would 😰

Me: ok, I don’t know how to respond to that lolll

Me: have fun at lunch though!!! Don’t drool or anything

Christina 🍯: yeah, let’s move past that 😂

Christina 🍯: just, call him. Honestly, he’s been checking his phone constantly anyways. And, don’t you think he deserves it? Call him. You know I don’t mean this in a rude way but...he’s done everything in this weird relationship-that’s-not-a-relationship so far. Time for you to return the favor.

✂

“...Jimin?”

Jimin blinks, looking around the table until his eyes land on who was just calling his name. Chung-hei smiles at him from her spot beside Namjoon.

“Yes?”

It’s when everyone starts to giggle that he realizes he must have missed something.

“How’re you doing over there?” Chung-hei asks. Jimin frowns.

“...good. How are you?”

Namjoon places his arm on the back of Chung-hei’s chair, and Jimin notices the way her cheeks automatically redden.

“You seem a little distracted today,” Namjoon croons. “That’s all.”

Looking around at everyone’s amused faces, Jimin notices one face that isn’t looking in his direction.

Christina is smiling slightly at her phone, fingers flying across the screen as she texts out a message.

“Christina’s distracted too!” Jimin points to the girl like a kindergartener, a sly smile on his face when she looks up at him with raised brows.

“Hey, it’s for a good reason,” she says.

“Oh?” Taehyung leans forward, resting his chin in his hand. “And what would that be?”

Everyone notices the way Christina looks at Taehyung before quickly looking away, as though looking at him for too long could burn her. Like a moth to a candle, though, she can’t quite stay away.

“His soulmate,” she finally says, pointing an accusing finger right back at him. “I’m helping her through an existential crisis or something.”

Jimin automatically scoots forward, concern written across his face. “What’s going on? Does she need something?”

Christina snorts as a text - a text from Jolie, apparently - comes through on her phone. “No. She’s fine. Just needs to get out of her head. I suspect that sitting cooped up in the house isn’t helping.”

Ah.

It had hurt to have to order her to stay home, he knew how much that could hurt. Sure, some people might not have a problem with it. But something told him that there were only so many distractions in Jolie’s small apartment that could keep her entertained. Hopefully it would all be over soon.

And then what?

That was the question that had been plaguing him today. How long would he be forced to run this same track over and over again? How long until they were both ready to face each other?

They were going to face each other, right?

Christina sits back in her chair with a satisfied sigh, looking quite pleased with herself.

“What are you so happy about?” Jimin asks, leaning back and crossing his arms. Christina merely looks at him and then down at his phone which sits atop the table.

Just like magic, it begins to ring.

“O-oh, uh…” Jimin scrambles to his feet, nearly tipping over his water in the process. Grabbing his phone, he looks for the quickest exit.

“Why don’t you just stay in here?” Jin asks, ever the prying one. “We can all chat.”

Jimin pays him no mind, heading straight for the door and bringing the phone to his ear. “Hey, what’s up?” He prays he sounds nonchalant.

“Aish, he’s already so over-protective,” Hobi calls out loud enough for Jolie to hear on the other side of the phone.

“Hyung! At least wait until I’m out of the room!” Jimin shouts back, finally slipping out into the hallway. Jolie’s laugh is enough to make him smile.

“Sounds like you’re having fun,” she teases.

Jimin sighs, leaning his head back against the wall. “So much. How are you? Have you gone stir-crazy yet?”

There’s a moment’s silence. “Yes. Definitely. I think by about eight o’clock this morning, actually.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

Another moment of silence, in which Jimin scrambles for something - anything to say in order to keep her on the phone.

“Did you, uh, get the groceries?” It’s a pointless question; he was notified this morning when they were dropped off.

“Oh! I did! And I saw some chocolate…? And Doritos. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Jimin grins. “Nope. No clue.”

“Huh. Interesting. I could have sworn you’d added them in there. What are you trying to do, make me fall in love with you or something?”

Of course, the answer is yes. Can he say that, though?

Aren’t they supposed to be taking this slow? Why did nobody tell him that it would be this hard to do something so simple?

“Sorry...was that awkward?”

Jimin starts at the sound of Jolie’s voice, realizing that he never responded. “Er, no. Sorry, I was just thinking.” He chuckles awkwardly. “Is chocolate all it takes, then?”

He swears he can hear a gasp on the other side of the phone, but then again that may just be wishful thinking.

Either way, he temporarily throws caution to the wind. He knows he’s toeing the line, but he can’t find it in himself to back off. Not when he can hear Jolie’s soft laugh on the other side of the phone and wonders if she’s wearing that same smile he saw for a fraction of a second all those weeks ago.

“Well, it’s a good start. Obviously the chips were a bonus.”

“Ah, yeah. I thought those might be a nice touch.” He pauses. “Hey, are your flowers still doing good? Or are they dead?”

“I feel like I’m in danger of receiving more flowers if these ones are dead,” Jolie muses.

“Danger? Really?”

“You know you don’t have to keep me in constant supply of flowers, right? Besides, I’m planning on drying the ones I have now.”

“Consider it a present for making you stay inside for so long.”

Jolie hums on the other side, and Jimin finds himself nodding along to the sound. “About that...any updates? Do I have any more stalkers?”

Jimin shivers at the thought. He’s dealt with his fair share of stalkers over the years, he’s had quite enough of them. “Nothing yet, but we should know more by tonight at the latest. I’ll be sure to call you as soon as I know.”

It’s quiet on the other side, but Jimin allows some time for the quiet to settle. When he doesn’t get a response back for a while, he quietly speaks.

“Hey, you alright over there?”

There’s a long sigh, one that he thinks he wasn’t supposed to hear. “Mm? Oh, yeah. All good. You good?”

Jimin smiles. “All good.”

✂

House arrest doesn’t suit me. It’s going on day three, and I’ve found that the thrill of television isn’t what it used to be. Especially not as the pile of empty chocolate wrappers grow.

I told Jimin as much last night before I went to bed. I also accused him of trying to make me gain weight. He only cackled and told me he’d send over healthier foods in the morning.

I should have known it sounded too good to be true. This morning I checked my porch to see a suspicious grocery bag with bananas and apples on the top. Upon further inspection I found that the fruit was only a cover for what lay underneath.

Two more bags of assorted chocolates.

Oh, and a note that Jimin must have added for the deliverer which was left on the bag. It simply said: delivery request: please hide chocolate under the fruit.

“I can’t believe it.”

“Wow, so are we past saying hello when we call? I don’t know how I feel about that.”

I try to ignore how easy - how right - it feels to just grab my phone and call Jimin up. There are still a fair amount of nerves going into it, but over the past few days we’ve grown accustomed to it.

“You sent me more chocolate!”

“Buuut I countered it with fruit. Isn’t that good?”

I roll my eyes. “Sure, but the fact that you’re forcing me to practice self-restraint is absolutely horrible.

“Ah, I see. So next time I should just send the apples?”

“No…”

I find a comfortable spot on the couch, staring at the calendar before me. Staring at the date, with a little circle around it.

Nothing to celebrate today. But certainly something to remember.

Jimin’s rambling - he rambles, I’ve come to learn this - about his day and how they have an interview coming up this weekend, however I find that I’m struggling to listen. Especially as the calendar grows larger and larger in my eyes.

I wait until it’s dark to slip out.

With my pre-ordered train ticket shining on my phone, I keep my head down and my hood up as I rush to the station. At this time of night on a weekday, there aren’t nearly as many people about. That being said, it’s still Seoul. There are still plenty of people on the sidewalks, and I can only pray that they don’t notice my lack of a red thread amidst the sea of threads adorning the roads.

Thankfully, I make it to the station without much of an issue. It isn’t long before I’m settled and holding the dried hydrangeas close to my chest.

It isn’t a long ride to my hometown, only about twenty minutes by train. Throughout the entire time I remain on high alert, knowing that if I somehow wind up in trouble that Bighit may very well murder me in my sleep.

I watch as the train rolls to a stop at my destination, and I hurry off before anyone can notice me. Once I’m outside, I let out a sigh of relief.

It’s been too long.

One year, actually.

The cemetery isn’t far from the station, and I don’t dare risk a taxi. So, with my flowers still in hand, I begin my silent pilgrimage.

✂

Not much has changed here. I peeked the same family that runs the sweet shop I used to adore, constantly begging for just enough won for some sweets. The streets even look the same, only a few small changes here and there.

It’s the fact that this was my home but that I don’t quite belong here anymore that makes my feet all the heavier. When the cemetery finally comes into view, I take a deep breath and trudge onward.

Coming to a stop before a small tombstone, I groan and kneel before it. It was a longer walk than I remembered.

“Hey Mom,” I whisper, taking care to gently separate the bouquet in half and lay some flowers on either side. “Dad.” Once the flowers are in their proper places, I lean back on my hands.

“I’m not really supposed to be outside right now...but, I promised I’d visit every year, didn’t I?” I look expectantly at the tombstone, but receive no answer. The stone is cold and unwavering, but I find that I don’t mind. The moon is bright and full, shining down enough light to see clearly. “Well, I’m here. I would have brought you some fresh flowers but...well, things are a little complicated right now.”

Inhaling deeply, I chew on my bottom lip before exhaling. As I do, my vision blurs a bit with unshed tears. Finally, bringing my left hand forward, I look down at the severed thread.

“Mom, you wouldn’t know who he is, but I met my soulmate. Well, not officially, I guess. That’s where things get complicated. But I’m trying to fix it.” Looking heavenward, I watch the stars winking down at me. “Dad, you’ll know him. His name is Park Jimin.”

✂

“What do you mean she’s not home?”

Jimin is currently pacing in the living room, listening to Sunmi’s voice on speaker. The others sit in various spaces around the room, each mirroring a look of concern.

Sunmi had been cleared to head over to Jolie’s, which Jimin had deemed a tender mercy. He felt horrible for her, knowing that she was probably going crazy. So, Sunmi had gone over to surprise her.

Except there was one little problem.

“I’m telling you, she’s not here,” Sunmi responds, struggling to maintain her composure. “I got here about ten minutes ago and knocked, but all the lights were off and it looked like nobody was home. Nobody’s answering. She’s not here, and she won’t answer her phone.”

Jimin looks around the room in horror. Automatically his mind conjures up the worst-possible scenarios. “Where would she go? There’s no sign of a break-in, right?”

Chung-hei frowns on the other side of the room, pulling her phone out. “I’ll check her location right now,” she reassures.

“No, everything looks normal. Should I ask around? See if anyone’s seen her?”

“No, not yet. That will only raise suspicion.” Jimin says, watching with bated breath and Chung-hei tries to locate his soulmate.

When Chung-hei’s expression changes from confused worry to stunned understanding, Jimin isn’t sure how to react.

“What is it?” He asks, impatient.

“I didn’t realize,” Chung-hei mumbles. “What’s the date today?” She answers the question herself, confirming it. “She’s back home.”

“What do you mean? Sunmi just said-”

“No, not that home.” Chung-hei flips the phone around to show him. “It’s been a year. And she promised him she’d visit every year.”

It takes a moment for Jimin to process the information, already thinking about how quickly he can convince someone to tail him while he drives out to Jolie. She can get in the other car to return, obviously so she doesn’t have to see him-

“One year.” Jimin blinks, suddenly remembering what Jolie mentioned in her letter. “It’s the anniversary of her father’s passing.”

Chung-hei’s solemn nod is answer enough.

Jimin stumbles back to sit in the nearest chair, rubbing his hands over his face. “I need to go out there-”

“No, you know you can’t do that,” Namjoon immediately rejects.

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.”

Namjoon grinds his jaw, glancing at Chung-hei as the two share a silent conversation. When Namjoon’s shoulders relax, Jimin finds himself hoping. There’s no way he can leave Jolie to go through this alone.

“Bang Sihyuk will kill us if he finds out,” Namjoon begins.

“I don’t care-”

“I do.” Namjoon sighs. “So don’t get caught.”

Jimin blinks. “What?”

Namjoon shrugs, looking around the room. “Don’t get caught. Make it look like you snuck out.”

Leaping to his feet, Jimin hardly has time to grab his jacket before he’s flying out the door. “Send me the location!” He shouts out before the door closes.

He doesn’t know what possesses him as he sprints down the street, but he’s reminded of the last time he went running toward his soulmate.

This time, he knows that he’s been through the heartbreak. Surely he’s been through the worst of it. Now, all that’s on his mind is the fact that his soulmate is alone and she shouldn’t be.

He’s tired of being alone.

It’s been years since Jimin last took the train, but Chung-hei explains in her text containing Jolie’s location that it might be his best bet.

Without a second thought, Jimin boards the train and heads toward his soulmate.

✂

My eyelids are drooping, but the walk back to the train station seems daunting. “I need to get going,” I mumble.

My voice is a little hoarse from all the talking I’ve done over the past hour. Even in death, my parents can’t escape my rambling.

Not that I think they mind.

I rise to my feet, taking one last look at the flowers that my soulmate gifted me before leaving them there on the tombstone.

“Goodnight, Mom and Dad.”

Despite my exhaustion, I remember to walk briskly back toward the gas station. I keep my head down with my hands in my pocket.

My heart feels a little heavy tonight. I shoot a melancholy smile toward the stars, who act as my solitary companion tonight. I can’t shake the feeling that I would really rather not be alone tonight.

Nobody deserves to mourn alone.

My fingers itch to call Jimin or Christina or anybody, but I put it off. I had my phone on silent, and the last thing I needed was bringing attention to myself by talking loud enough for everyone to hear. If Jimin found out that I was out here…

He’d probably stop sending me chocolates. At the very least.

Yes, it would be best to wait until I’m home and in the warmth of my bed before calling him.

Like a dream, my feet carry me toward the train station. It’s downhill for the most part, making it easier than I thought it would be. A tender mercy, I suppose, for a day like today.

Thankfully, it’s late enough now that the station is empty for the most part. Only a few stragglers wander about, all of which are too tired to pay me any mind. However, as I near the ticket booth, I feel it.

Almost like something pulling on my thread. It’s a similar feeling to what I felt as the thread had been cut, but there’s no reason for it to be acting up again.

“That’ll be 26,000 won,” the person on the other side of the booth drawls, looking for all the world like they’d rather walk across hot coals then have to spend another moment here.

“Oh, right.” I pull the money from my wallet, sliding it under the little window. “Sorry about that, I got distracted-”

“Here ya go,” they interrupt, clearly not very interested in what was distracting me. All the better, I suppose.

Thanking them, I pocket the ticket and make my way to a bench before the platform. The train should be here in about fifteen minutes.

But there’s that annoying tug again, nearly pulling my hand off my lap. I frown down at the thread, too tired to put that much thought into it. I’ll have to ask Christina if she’s ever known a thread to act up.

There’s a cold draft in the station, one that only gets worse as an incoming train pulls up and comes to a stop. I keep my head down as the doors open and people begin to file out.

At least, I try to until I’m practically thrown off my seat as my thread pushes and pulls at me. It’s starting to cause a scene, so I hurry off to the side and half-hide behind a pillar. Hopefully nobody will question why I gave up my perfectly nice seat.

Burying my hand in my pocket, I look around to make sure nobody is coming my way when my eyes catch on something- or rather, a lack of something.

Someone walks off the train, however the typical red thread doesn’t accompany them.

That’s not the only thing that alarms me. It’s the fact that I know them.

Park Jimin glides off of the train and looks around, trying to deduce which exit to take. He pulls his phone out to look at something when he drops it due to a sudden jolt.

I watch, utterly paralyzed as he stumbles forward. Almost as though pulled by some invisible thread.

His eyes are wide and he’s practically buried under the large, puffy jacket he wears. It’s brown, to match his brown hair, which is ridiculously ruffled. He’s chewing on the inside of his lips as he lifts his head to look around yet again.

From across the station, our eyes meet. Slowly, so slowly it burns, I see the recognition register in his eyes as he trails from my face down to my left hand and back up to my eyes again.

Jimin freezes, and I realize that it isn’t because he’s afraid or nervous.

This is my choice to make. Even now, after all that’s happened, he still allows me to choose.

So, with a tentative step forward quickly followed by another, I choose him.

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[hela-avenger]

it’s not you, it’s me- part 3

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1006

Summary: Natasha won’t quit trying to set you up so you decide to play fire with fire. Hence making a deal with an insufferable prince who interestingly enough is willing to fake being in love with you for the rest of the night. Of course when dealing with the God of Lies things are never as they seem. Fake-Dating AU. p&w AU.

A/N: Once again late but once again better late than never. This one’s a little on the short side but quality over quantity!

P.S. I’m tagging the p&w people so if you’ll like to be taken off pls do let me know!

Tags are open! 

it’s not you, it’s me masterlist & poison & wine masterlist

You thought you had a few minutes before Natasha found you again but you were immediately proven wrong. Natasha is already waiting for you when you step back inside from the balcony and she wasn’t alone.

“There you are!” she exclaims a little too eagerly. “Ryan from Accounting has been waiting for you for a dance.”

You force a smile on your face as you look at the man next to her. He’s handsome and probably kind but you had no desire to get to know him. Luckily for you, you weren’t alone either. 

“That’s very sweet, but my dancing card is already full.”

You gently squeeze Loki’s arm hoping he’ll take the hint and he does. In fact, it seems he’s very well ahead of you.

“Yes, I’m afraid I will be occupying the lady’s time for the rest of the night,” Loki states blatantly staring at Natasha to further emphasize his light threat. “We have much to discuss.”

With that said, Loki whisks you away and you can’t refrain from giggling as he stops in the middle of the dance floor. 

“Do you know how to dance?” he asks.

“I do,” you answer. “Do you?”

Loki huffs and places a hand on your waist while the other one is offered to you. You take it and he begins to lead.

“I’m a royal prince,” he tells you. “Of course I know how to dance.” 

“Right, silly of me to forget.” 

Loki hums in agreement and nods behind you.

“He seemed nice.”

He turns you allowing you the chance to catch sight of Ryan lingering by Natasha’s side. It seemed Natasha was playing the long game and waiting you out.

“He probably is. He’s probably kind and funny and smart. She wouldn’t just throw anyone at me.”

“Then why are you refusing the love match?” 

You hesitate to respond considering for a second to lie but Loki had asked one thing of you and you couldn’t go back on your word already.

“I will outlive him,” you answer. “I will outlive them all actually. The people I consider my friends, the ones I have foolishly grown attached to… I will outlive them and that loss is going to hurt.”

“The folly of man,” Loki whispers. “But something you should be accustomed to since spending your half-immortal life here.” 

You swallow then trying to ignore the piercing pain that is brought up at the mere memory.

“I have been protecting my heart ever since I lost my mother. I loved her so much and I think about her every passing day on this Earth and it still hurts as much as the day her hand became limp in mine.”

Loki has stopped dancing and you do too.

“I cannot go through that again,” you tell him. “I refuse to.” 

Loki is staring you down once more. Dark eyes pierced into yours as if he was trying to decipher you but many have tried and failed. Though this night was one surprise after another as he seems to find something. 

“You and I are more alike than I thought…” 

Your interest is piqued but Loki realizes his mistake and is quick to change the subject. He starts to lead you again and you’re forced to follow him.

“The Widow doesn’t seem too pleased with me. Well... more so than usual.”

You let out a sigh knowing better than to ask that burning question he’s implanted in your mind. You follow his lead in the conversation too. The endgame being more of importance than your curiosity. 

“She probably thinks you’re corrupting me.”

Loki grins, “If only she knew you already are.”

“Hey!” you snap at him. 

“Are you offended because I’m wrong or because I’m right?”

You hesitate to respond and look away from his piercing gaze. 

“I hate lying to them,” you confess to him. 

“Then why not tell the truth?”

“Because I don’t know the truth myself,” you answer. “I know my mother fell in love with a traveling Asgardian but I have no idea who it was and why he never came back for us... for me. I wonder if my father even knows I exist or if he does, if he hates me for even existing.”

Loki remains silent avoiding your stare. He seems tense under your hand. 

“If that’s the kind of man he is then perhaps you’re better off.” 

He still won’t look at you and you wonder why . It was in the lack of a response that you found an answer.

“Was that how it was for you?”

“What?” Loki exclaims glaring down at you.

“Thor mentioned you were adopted,” you explain. “And it seemed like you were speaking from experience so I... I just assumed.”

Loki is clearly upset and you wonder how you can manage to do this twice in one slow dance.

“I overstepped, didn’t I?”

“Immensely.”

You both look away from each other. His in annoyance while yours was due to guilt. The silence grows and stretches between you and you start to feel uneasy. 

Surprisingly, Loki breaks the silence in a way you never expected.

“I was traded from one monster to another.”

Nothing follows that statement. Loki leaves his words to linger in the air.

Heavy and hard.

You don’t know how to respond and he doesn’t expect you to. 

Once again, the conversation is in an intense emotional standstill. It was your turn to change the subject but you didn’t know how.

The many questions that were running through your mind would overstep the invisible boundaries Loki kept setting up.

You look up at him hoping to fill the silence with anything but you’re caught off guard when you find him already staring at you. 

“I’m sorry about this...”

You scowl wondering what he could possibly be apologizing for but that expression is wiped off your face when the hand on your waist loops around your back and he pulls you into his chest and his lips... well his lips are suddenly on yours.

it’s not you, it’s me: @mywellspingoflife @toe-wind-ek-jou @mejusttryintogetby @marvelgirlonamarvelworld​ @nickkie1129​ @theinfinitenerd​ @lucywrites02​ @nerdyshaddowhunter​ @10velyhaos​ @chantelle-m-93​ 

poison & wine: @damalseer @just-the-hiddles @jessiejunebug @nonsensicalobsessions @smollest-soybean @assassinoftheworld @readerbandit @doyoufeelikeayounggod @strangemcuvlogs @ha-tep @i-dont-know-eiither @gene-king @day-dreaming-fox @bn-studies @devilbat @victor-criss-bish @skinny-macncheese @musicconversedance @baby-bunnyxn @marvelloonie @sulbaeksul @queenmuahaha @accio-boys @eternalqueensworld @umlvk @roger-the-reindeer @punkrockhufflefluff​ @your-local-abyss @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rogerrhqpsody @imsad420 @pandacookieowo @justnerdystuffs @hanoi15 @oneprolificqueen @nikki-who-likes-coffee @fandomrelative @nikki419ninja @onedollarduck @help-i-need-a-social-life @ephemeraljade @catsladen @amwolowicz @captainmarvelnerd @thegirlbeyondtheuniverse @ddaeing @leftperfectionmoon

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow-blog @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74 @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sigyn-nightshade @aoirohi @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @just-a-donut-who-reads @day-dreaming-fox @heykathchuu @is-it-madness @writingletterstothefire​ @nonsensicalobsessions​

All Works: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff​ @hellocookiecutter​ @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak​ @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie​ @moonlightprime @badhollandfluff @what-a-flammable-heart @fandoms-allovertheplace @polireader​ @hufflautia

[that-tall-queer-bassist]

My personal Pros and Cons of my ADHD

Pros

-noticing all the little details and appreciating them in the fullest

-Emotional Dysregulation, because when I get a new plant, or find that one oddly shaped metal marble I lost a while ago, I am so excited it’s pathetic, but I love that feeling of pure joy.

-hyperfixation of the week/day/hour (i know some people describe it differently, let me be pls) . I usually switch between art mediums, and/or a few video games/social media sites. for example, I’ve been on tumblr for 3 hours as i write this, after not touching it for, i think a month?

-nuerodivergent friends. They’re just better.

-the ability to completely drown myself in information to ignore reality. Is it healthy? no. But i simply cannot handle another existiential crissi rn, so i will instead play minecraft while listening to alt rock playlists on youtube because getting spotify sounds like a lot of work.

-my ability to retain absolutely useless information, from either my, or my other nuerodivergent friends hyperfixations/special interests. I can explain to you in terrible formatting if it’s out loud, the evolution, history, training, anatomy and roles of the horse in our world, and how ao3 works, and what makes or breaks a fanfiction.

-Object Impermanence. When i literally hide myself a treat or surprise and forget about it, then get so excited when i do find/discover it again. I hide google questions, and/or song lyrics in my tabs :) its so fun. Also, hiding away stressors. Again, healthy? no, but i don’t feel like having anxiety all day, so whatever.

-Emotional Dysregulation, again. I can switch from sad or angry to happy and excited/content in a few seconds. It’s also great for getting my siblings out of their funk. ex., my sister is mad at me. I make a silly voice repeating what she said or cross my eyes at her. she laughs, then we can talk and have constructive conversation about why she shouldn’t get that upset about me “cutting off her reading time” when we share a room and I want to sleep, and know that she will be very tired tomorrow if she doesn’t also go to sleep. (We have this conversation almost every single night, i’m not even joking)

Cons

-Emotional Dysregulation. When i get upset, I’m Upset. Like, big time, ruining friendships and familial ties if i let it get out of hand, Upset. Yeah.

-Time Blindness. Constantly late, or early, or under or over estimating the amount of time it takes to do a thing, not eating til 4 because you forgot but you also should just wait til dinner, but now its 9 and I still haven’t eaten-

-Executive Dysfunction. I can’t do the things needed to function. Don’t have the mental energy to explain this one, so google it i guess? There’s a whole checklist of things you need to be able to do to function, and i can do like, three on a good day.

-Sleeping Trouble. People with adhd have trouble falling asleep, staying asleep, and waking up. So, sleeping trouble. So I’m constantly tired.

-Internal Clock is SLIGHTLY OFF. Nuerotypicals have that normal sleep schedule. Adhd ers have it shifted forward by, i think, 2, 3 hours. So we go to sleep later, and wake up later, and that’s the only way to get a healthy amount of sleep. My entire family also eats dinner super late, which might be because we’re weird, but I suspect the inner clock thing cuz we all got adhd.

-Object Impermanance. I hid my math homework one time. I failed that class. 

-Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. Never trying, or starting cuz I’m so terrified to get a bad reaction. Constantly masking around certain people to appeal to the few of my Nuerotypical friends. Or, y’know, majority of my extended family. They’re ableist. and homophobic. And transphobic. And racist. and sexist. The list goes on, but, yeah. Never coming out to them! :D

-Masking. It’s exhausting and I can only handle so much of it.

-Not Masking around nuerotypicals. The shoot down after finally revealing my true thoughts, urges, feelings, stims, etc. just sucks. Super disheartening. 

-Squirrel or shiny jokes when they’re made by people without adhd. Yes, I do get distracted by squirrels, and shiny things, and dice. Stop pointing it out, and/or putting me into yet another box of your labeling. 

-saying that I’m lazy, worthless, or a disaster when really it’s not helping. I already have that internal monologue, you adding to it and giving it some truth/extra ammunition is not. helping.

-Emotional Dysregulation. Again, because mood swings. like, I’m trying to be rightfully angry with you. Stop making me laugh with you’re silly faces or pointing out of a weird face someone made in a picture you took. 

-the stigma about the hyperactive subtype. I’m inattentive. I have No Energy. Ever. Sometimes i have restlessness, but there is still no energy. Stop portraying me as bouncing off the walls, especially with caffeine. Caffeine just catches my body speed up to my brain speed, settling me down a bit, at least mentally. 

-people not getting when i say I’m overstimulated, or need some time alone to process or re-energize, and following me, or continuing to do the overstimulating thing. I will literally. lose. my. mind.

-when people shut me down after I share something that is really important to me, or make fun of me for liking something an “abnormal” amount. Flashbacks to overnight camp, when whenever I said anything about horses, they said I had to do five squats, and when i got really excited about discussing the differences in riding styles/types with another person who really liked horses, but rode english, they said that it was obnoxious, when i was just.. excited to finally find someone to talk to and who felt the same way after, basically, years and years of no one getting it or wanting to listen or talking with me about the thing. To this day I don’t discuss horses with anyone, cuz it hurts so much remembering that, and the fear of it happening again is still there. 

-seeing other people be ashamed about their adhd and hesitant to mention until i talk, like, super openly about having it, in like, the first 5 minutes of knowing each other. It just.. hurts.

-I’m super empathetic, not in a way that’s helpful though. Like, wincing, or limping myself because I saw you drop something on your foot, and am imagining it so vividly that it feels like it happened to me. Reading a fic about abuse or depression, and it hitting too hard and hurting me almost physically, and on a personal level because I simply cannot handle it. Feeling someone else’s pain so vividly that i can’t comfort or help them in any way, because I am so preoccupied with  feeling their pain. 

-never being able to finish things without starting something else. All the WIPs in my google docs, istg, i will be driven insane by it. 

(y’know, this was kinda fun. As a rant, but also as a way for me to identify things about myself and my adhd that i like. Like, I know its so much shorter, but I have a hard time with positive self affirmation, so it was kinda nice. I might do it again, but just the pros part cuz the cons are kinda depressing ngl.)

(OH, Y’all should reblog with your own personal pros added on! You can add cons if you’d like to :) I’m just interested in seeing how your experiences/feeling differ from mine :) )

[andthatsonasahi]

Friends: Asahi x Barista!Reader

A/N: Hey guys this is the first fic that I’ve written that I’m actually uploading onto tumblr so like, pls comment and lemme know what yall think! <3

-

“Asahi we barely see you anymore!” complained Suga, as they walked towards the gym to practice.

“What do you mean?! I’m always here for practice!” he argued.

“Yes but we don’t see you before or after, where the hell have you been?” questioned Daichi suspiciously.

The trio had been best friends for years, and they’d spend a majority of their free time together. Lately however, the tall ace had been MIA, rushing out of every practice the second everyone finished cleaning up. They weren’t the only ones who noticed it either, the entire team had several conversations about his possible whereabouts, Tanaka even suggesting the possibility of a secret girlfriend, which everyone brushed off almost immediately as Asahi was far too shy. It even got to the point where Coach Ukai had noticed a change in his playing style, he was more focused and driven to succeed regardless of him having seemingly less practice, a fact that he was unsure whether to be glad or worried about.

“I’m okay! You guys are just being paranoid, please,” Asahi noted with a roll of his eyes, as he opened up the gym doors, earning a confused look from both boys.

“When did you start speaking like that?!” rushed out the gray-haired boy.

“This is what we mean! You’ve changed!” noted the captain.

“Is that such a bad thing? I’m happier! I’ve even learned how to word my emotions!” defended Asahi.

“No but we’re your best friends, Asahi, we just want to know what or who is making you so happy,” teased Suga, earning a blush from him almost immediately.

“It is a girl! I knew it! Tanaka was right!” yelled Daichi victoriously, as he fist bumped Suga.

“Or boy let’s not assume, Daichi!” added the setter.

“Shouldn’t you be yelling at us to do drills by now?!” exasperated Asahi as his face continued to redden, rushing away to get the equipment they needed, in disbelief at the fact that everyone was discussing his personal life.

“Should we-” began Daichi.

“For sure,” nodded Suga.

-

The boy sighed as he ran out of the gym, constantly checking the time on his phone. Practice had gone a bit late and he didn’t want the girl to think that he didn’t like spending time with her. He shook his head as he noted how his friends kept pestering him about her throughout the practice. He wished that he could gush about her with them but, what was there to tell? They were just friends anyway, she hadn’t shown any sign of reciprocating his growing feelings. Or was that just an excuse? Maybe he liked keeping her a secret, keeping their conversations about absolutely anything to himself. Factually, it wasn’t anything scandalous, it was just two friends keeping each other company at a coffee shop. Yet...it was special. The connection they had, to him anyway, was almost...cosmic. He was drawn to her in a way he couldn’t quite describe, not that he was any good with words anyway. A smile began to form on his face as he saw her through the glass windows of the shop, seeing her laugh with a customer as she handed the drink to them. He was only a door away from the girl he had missed throughout the day, and the idea of that, made his heart soar with joy.

“Welcome to Cioccolato Cafe- Oh ‘Sahi! Hi!” she beamed as she started making his standard order.

“Sorry I’m late,” he began, setting his gym bag beside him as he sat down on the usual table- his table as he liked to think of it as.

“Don’t worry about it! It’s been a busy day anyway, your timing is technically great since we’re about to close up,” she reassured, humming a song as she poured the milk into his cup.

“What are you singing?” he asked curiously, wanting to make a note of it to add to his playlist he made for her. 

“Oh it’s just ‘Loving is Easy’ by Rex Orange County; it’s been stuck in my head all day!” she expressed with a giggle, earning a blush from the boy as he contemplated asking her if there was a reason she was humming that song in particular, but before he could even muster the courage to ask, he was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell clinging.

“Welcome to Cioccolato Cafe! I’ll be with you in just a second!” she announced, finishing up the milk tea for Asahi and handing it over to him.

“Take your time,” replied the customer, earning a sharp head turn from Asahi.

“W- what are you guys doing here?!” exasperated Asahi as he facepalmed and began muttering under his breath.

“We just wanted to see where you’d keep going!” defended Suga as Daichi smirked at the boy’s flustered face.

“You don’t mind, do you?” asked Daichi in mock innocence.

“Of course not,” he shot back harshly, his tone being an obvious contradiction to the words themselves.

The setter and captain sat down with him, as they briefly looked over the menus on the table.

“Are you still going to deny that you’re whipped?” whispered Daichi, earning a loud laugh from his partner in crime.

“Sorry to interrupt but I wanted to know what you two wanted to order?” asked Y/N sweetly as she walked over to the table.

“Y- you’re not interrupting anything!” rushed out Asahi, facepalming yet again as he internally screamed at the sheer awkwardness of the entire situation, earning a soft laugh from the girl herself.

“I’ll have a hot chocolate please!” asked Suga politely.

“And I’ll have a piece of coffee cake,” added Daichi.

“Alright sounds good! I’ll be here with your stuff in just a few minutes, but before I do, would you like to pay now or after you’re done?” she questioned.

“We’ll pay after,” responded Daichi, earning a nod from the barista as she walked over behind the counter to plug in the order.

“She’s cute, I get why you’re here all the time Azu,” teased Suga.

“I hate it here,” muttered Asahi under his breath, as he wondered how he was going to survive this for the rest of the night.

-

“Wait he really did that?!” giggled Y/N, as she sat next to Asahi sipping her white chocolate mocha.

“Mhm! His face when we found out was priceless!” chuckled Daichi.

“Okay but that’s so cute! Using your height for good!” teased Y/N as she leaned into the ace with a giggle.

“Such a cliche though,” joked Suga.

“Listen, he saved a KITTEN! I don’t care how much of a cliche that is, please!” commented Y/N as she gazed at Asahi, earning laughter from the pair as they realized where his new vocabulary was coming from and a light blush from the ace.

“Honestly, this boy is a saviour on all accounts! Graveyard shifts were usually hella boring until ‘Sahi started coming around at night too,” reminisced Y/N as memories of them began playing in her head.

“We knew he was disappearing for a reason when he stopped staying late at the gym to practice,” noted Daichi.

“Oh God I’m sorry! Don’t cut practice time for me! I’ll feel too bad honestly!” rushed out Y/N with a furrow of her eyebrows.

“No no please don’t! I come here for a reason,” piped up Asahi, as he turned to the girl to ensure that she knew that he meant the words he was saying.

“Okay but still! I know how much you love volleyball!” she whined.

“If it makes you feel better, his playing has actually been getting better,” reassured Daichi.

“Yeah, he barely misses his serves anymore!” added Suga with a smile.

“Damn, guess it’s my influence!” joked Y/N as she giggled, earning a laugh from everyone, but for a different reason.

In a way Y/N was right, the only new factor that entered his life was her, and the pair were certain that if they had asked when the two lovebirds had met that the dates would match up. Even just talking to her for one night, the boys understood what their friend saw in her. She shined with positivity and joy; her genuinity and kindness were refreshing. 

“It’s getting a bit late now, shouldn’t you be sleeping soon?” asked Daichi.

“Technically yes, but I still have homework to do anyway,” responded Y/N with a shrug of her shoulders.

“What are we still doing here, then? Let’s pay so you can go home, the sooner the better!” declared Suga, already getting up and pushing back his chair.

“Guys it’s honestly fine, I’ve stayed up far later!” she reassured, getting up herself and walking towards the cash register.

“Still, we wouldn’t want to keep you up,” commented Asahi meaningfully, as he gathered his things and hers.

“You guys are the sweetest, ugh! I lowkey don’t want to even let you pa-” she noted, interrupted by the money already placed on the counter before she could finish her sentence, leading her to add a “I hate yall” jokingly.

-

“You didn’t have to walk me home again, ‘Sahi,” sighed Y/N as she ignored the butterflies in her stomach.

“It’s unsafe for you to walk alone, I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you,” he replied honestly.

“I would’ve taken the bus though!” she shot back with a laugh.

“And? Like that’s any less safe? The possibilities are endless!” he expressed, then whispered, “Besides I- uh- like walking with you.”

“Even if you have to slow yourself down so I can keep up? Don’t think I haven’t noticed that by the way!” she teased, earning a soft chuckle from the ace himself.

He didn’t know how to respond, how could he? His mind was racing as his heart rushed to match the rhythm, both almost in a race, competing to see who could say the sentence that least gave away his true feelings. None of which ended up winning, as they had both seemingly come to a compromise that anything would be too risky.

“Y’know...I’ve never really felt as safe with you as I do with anyone else,” she expressed quietly.

“Because I’m tall and look scary?” he questioned, already preparing himself to hear yet another joke about how his physique didn’t match his personality.

“No, though that does help!” she replied with a giggle, then cleared her throat as she played with her hair, a nervous habit that Asahi had picked up on.

“It’s because you make me feel comfortable, like, I don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing or annoying you or anything. With you I can just- be me I guess,” she admitted, before adding, “That’s such a cliche thing to say please! Tell Suga and Daichi that you have some competition for being the most cliche!” she joked as she shook her head.

“In your words, ‘I don’t care how much of a cliche that is’, that’s the sweetest thing that’s ever been said to me and I’m beyond happy that I make you feel like that,” he replied joyfully, chuckling softly.

Her heart began beating faster as she smiled brightly at his words. She had acknowledged a while back that she had a crush on him but she didn’t realize how easily the boy could make her melt. There was something about his honesty that she admired greatly; she had been surrounded and used by people, both platonically and romantically, who had never reciprocated her compliments, so to hear something back was wonderful. Was it the bare minimum according to others? Of course. Doesn't make her feel any less elated, though.

“Well looks like that’s my stop,” she finally let out, as they approached her house.

“Y/N I-” he began.

He couldn’t take it anymore, she had to know how he felt about her. His hands began to shake as he looked around nervously. What if she didn’t like him back? What if she ran away from him? Was he willing to ruin their friendship over his selfish feelings? His eyes fell upon her as he noted how cold and exhausted the girl looked, failing to see the hope that shone behind her eyes, as she prayed that the words she craved to hear would slip out.

“Nevermind, have a goodnight and please don’t stay up too late,” he said simply with a sad smile, beginning to turn around and walk away.

“Wait!” yelled Y/N suddenly, forcing him to come to a sharp halt.

Was he...going to say what she thought he was going to say? Surely not right? Yet she recognised that look, that was the very same look she gave in the mirror when she would practice telling her crushes how she felt. Did he like her? No no that would be ridiculous, she was...well, her and he was him. They were on two opposite ends of the spectrum, there’s no way in hell he’d reciprocate her feelings.

“...You too, ‘Sahi, I’ll text you before I sleep so you can not so subtly hint at me sleeping earlier tomorrow,” she teased with a chuckle.

“I’d love nothing more,” he expressed with a louder laugh, walking away as he placed his hands in his pockets and sighed.

He really thought for a second there that she was going to tell him she liked him. How could he be so naive? Of course she didn’t, after all, they were just friends.

-

[grace-sully]

Jealous

* this is not my gif; all credit goes to the owner.

Paring: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 2667

Summary: JJ likes you but hasn’t asked you out yet because of the rule, but he sees someone flirting with you and gets Jealous.

Requested: yes! - Can you do a jealous jj maybank imagine??

A/N: this is by far the most i've ever written but it was a fun request to write. Hope this was what you were looking for!! <3 also im very, very sorry it's taken so long pls forgive me 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You had joined the infamous Pogues after moving to the Outer Banks when you were 9 and lived in the neighbouring house of JJ. He first spoke to you when he and John B were climbing trees in his back garden. Curious as to what the two boys were playing, you joined in. Back then it was just you, John B and JJ against the world, and you would make in known. 

Pope later joined the three of you after being in some of the same classes with you and the boys, and were instantly drawn to his honesty, charm and it also didn't hurt that he was so smart, you could get him to help you all out with your homework.

Then came Kie and as much as you loved the boys, you were so glad there was finally a girl around. You and her became best friends almost immediately when you saw her surfing one day alone, and later invited her to join you with the others. You then learned that she was technically a kook, but was surprised when she was completely different from the stuck up rich that occupied Figure 8, and was actually bearable to be around.

And from then on, you had always been the voice of reason within the Pogues.

However, anyone could see there was clearly something special between you and JJ. Everyone in the town believed you two already were together or would  end up together eventually. You had been one of JJ's closest friends his entire life, behind John B that is, whenever you two were together, the space would just be filled with laughter, constant bickering and just enjoying each other’s company.

You couldn’t see him that way, or so you told yourself. You were both completely different, and would never work as a couple. And besides, even if you did like him, he would never want to date you anyway. And due to the ‘no Pogue on Pogue macking’ you never thought of him or any of the other Pogues in that way and tried to avoid having a romantic relationship for obvious reasons.

It was a typical summer evening for the Pogues. After spending a day on the water, swimming, listening to music and being around each other's company, Kie suggested getting food at her parent’s restaurant. And the thought of free food made you and the other Pogues agree instantly.

Once Kie persuaded her dad in letting you all eat the leftovers, Mr, Carrera banished you all to a secluded table at the back of his restaurant, away from any of the actual paying customers. 

Sitting down with JJ to your left, you conversed with the other Pogues before you saw Kie return with a tray of food and jug of water for you all to enjoy.

You shrieked in shock as you felt something cold being smeared across your cheek, turning around you saw JJ sat beside you, owning a smug look on his face and  ketchup covering his fingers.

Grabbing a spare fry that was lying on the table, you threw it in his direction. Hitting him directly in the chest, he faked being hurt, holding his chest.

He then retaliated by throwing another fry at you. Soon it became a full on food fight between you two, while you giggled until you were out of breath.

“Can we not be kicked out by my dad please,” Kie spoke, trying to stop the chaos that you and JJ created.

He chuckled, stopping his movements before sipping his drink and digging back into his food that sat in front of him. You followed suit, still giggling.

“Shit!” John B squealed, quickly picking up a cup he knocked over in the chaos of yours and JJ’s spontaneous fight, and moving a few things out of the way from the spilled water to not get wet.

“Really John B, right in front of my salad,” Kie said, staring at the brunette boy trying to clean up the mess he made.

“Don’t worry I get some napkins” you sighed, John B gave you a nod in thanks and you found yourself walking up towards the countertop to grab the napkins. 

As you grabbed a pile of napkins from the bartop, you felt a hand on your waist and a head lean against your shoulder while feeling someone breathing against your ear.

You were surprised when you turned around to be greeted by a very familiar face.

“Hi.” Harry, a colleague from your work greeted you as he leaned in to kiss your cheek, “I wasn’t expecting to run into you in this fine establishment.”

The flirty banter between the two of you is not new. You had met Harry when he started working during your second month of being at the Figure 8 Country Club. He was a natural flirt, some people would call it cocky, but everyone knew he was harmless.

You haven't seen him in about a month due to the hurricane that swept through the island a few weeks back, and then scheduling issues kept you apart from most of your work friends.

“I could say the same to you.” you reply, still a little surprised to see him here. 

“It’s my parents anniversary.” He said simply, looking over his shoulder to a group of people all sat at a table on the opposite end of the building, chatting amongst themselves.

You nodded, coming to terms that it wasn’t just you and your friends at the Wreck, like it usually felt like when you were all together, stealing the scraps from Mr. Carrera.

He chuckled, leaning his elbow on the countertop to get a little closer to you, focusing all of his attention on you, “So, how have you been since the hurricane and all?”

“I’ve been alright. Helping out folks where I can,” you chuckled, before pointing behind him to the table where you all sat “and hanging out with my friends how about you?”

“Been good, time away was fun, missed your beautiful face though” he said through a smirk

“Easy, ” You warn, rolling your eyes and smacking his arm playfully before shaking your head and walking back to where your friends were, but you noticed Harry following after you.

As you approach the table, you noticed how JJ’s knuckles were gripped into a fist. His eyes were following behind you to where Harry was, which caused you to raise your eyebrow slightly at him. He saw your wandering eye and just scoffed, ignoring the look you were giving him as he took a sip of his water and sighed, watching as you proceed to introduce the Pogues to Harry.

“Guys this is Harry who I work with. Harry this is John B, Kiara, Pope and JJ.” you introduced pointing to each appropriate Pogue.

You had spoken fondly about Harry to your best friends. He was a great stress relief at work and it was nice to interact with someone different from who you usually hung out with. He was a few years older then you so you didn't share any mutual friends and never saw him around at parties.

“Hi. It’s so good to meet you all.” Harry grinned, extending his hand out to Pope and John B, who both returned his polite greeting, Kie gave him a small wave from across the table, while JJ let out another loud sigh obviously meant to be heard.

“You too.” JJ replied, voice full of sarcasm, as he waved his right hand while taking a sip of his water with his left.

Sitting yourself back down in your seat beside JJ, you gave him a slight nudge with your shoulder to ask him what was the matter as you knew he was a lot more polite when he met people so it certainly surprised you when his expression towards Harry seemed a little dry. You assumed that he was just tired, as his dad had been giving him a hard time recently and he had been living at John B’s for a few days now. But unbeknownst to you, JJ’s blood had been boiling the moment he had witnessed Harry approach you at the counter top.

Harry made friendly conversation with John B and Pope, while you focused all of your attention on the way JJ had been when you were talking with Harry. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Harry walk around the table and stand behind you, feeling him lean his body weight against the back of your chair that you were sitting in, causing you to focus back in on the conversation happening around you.

“Well I just can't wait to have Y/N all to myself again!” Harry placed his hands atop of your shoulders massaging them gently as all of the Pogues around you chuckled, including you to try and make it seem like you have been listening all this time and not thinking about the blonde boy next to you .

Watching Harry's hands remain on your shoulders, he was not happy about the way Harry had been acting around you. It was a strange feeling being jealous, he definitely wasn’t used to it. Deep down he knew he had no reason to feel this way because you weren’t his.

That was it. He had had enough. He slammed his fist against the table, gaining the attention of the other Pogues and marched in the direction of the exit, leaving you just as confused as the others who all sat with confused faces, they watched as JJ stormed out of the building, baffled as to what had caused his sudden tantrum.

You quickly turned over to Kie with a confused look on your face, mouthing a 'what the fuck’ to see if she had picked up on something you didnt, before getting up from your seat to quick to follow after your best friend. Curious about what caused his sudden outburst.

You found him standing outside by the deck, his back to you. His knuckles were still white as they gripped the wooden railing in front of him as he huffed, raking his fingers through his own hair.

“What the fuck was that?” You called out to him as you walked up to him. You stopped a few meters behind him waiting for him to answer, “What the hell has gotten into your head?”

He wasn’t his usual carefree self right now, that was obvious. You crossed your arms across your chest, a stubborn stance that couldn’t even come close to the outrage that sparked in your eyes. 

He quickly turned back to look at you and you noticed that his jaw was tightly clamped shut, his fists would stay firmly by his sides and was trying to regain his composure by controlling his heavy breathing, but failing miserably.

“I don't like him,” he said firmly, shaking his head lightly. The tension in his body made him stand rigid as he continued to stare at you with steam coming out of his ears.

“What are you talking about?” you asked him confused.

"The way he put his arm around you. The way he talks to you. The way he acts around you, Y/N, okay i don't like it! He was flirting with you!" he practically yells at you as he begins to pace back and forth on his feet, his body still completely rigid as he moves back and forth not even bothering to look at you.

“Is that what all of this is about?” You shook your head, raising your eyebrows to try and challenge him as you crossed your arms against your chest. “You’re jealous of Harry?”

“Y/N, I’m serious,” He paused his movements, looking at you dead in the eyes to hint what he was really trying to say to you when not knowing exactly how to express what he had been feeling for years now. To be honest with you and not wanting to ruin the beautiful friendship that you've had over the years. 

“No, tell me why it bothered you so much.” you ran your hand through your hair, and rolled your eyes, Unable to believe how childish he was being,

"He was flirting with you!”

“That’s just him JJ. He’ll flirt with a rock if he could!” You shook your head and took a deep breath. From an outsider's position, it may look like Harry was trying to come on to you, but anyone who really knows Harry, knows that it's completely harmless, and anyone who watched you knows your heart truly belongs to the boy stood in front of you now, “Are you telling me that you’re mad because someone was flirting with me in your presence?”

“Yeah i'm mad, i'm mad that they are gunna get your attention and you'll go off with them!” he said hanging his head low, finally letting some of the tension leave his body from partially admitting his feelings for you.

You remained silent, waiting for him to elaborate on what he meant. A part of you knew what he was about to say and you were hoping he would say it. You had been dreaming about it for years. But another part of you refused to believe that it was even possible that he had reciprocated feelings for you.

He sighed as he lifted his head to watch your reaction to what he was about to say, “I’ve liked you. For a long, long time now. And I know the rule, no Pogue on Pogue, so I never said anything about it. But this summer has made me realize how much I liked you more than just as a friend. And I know I probably fucked up our friendship for good now but… I don’t think I can keep it to myself for any longer.”

JJ liked you. Hearing him say this made you feel a huge weight lift from your chest, as you no longer needed to keep it to yourself either.

“JJ,” You bit down on your lip as you moved closer to him so you were now standing a foot away from him. “I like you too.”

With a huge grin plastered across your face, you let out a slight giggle, watching the smile on JJ’s face was the most amazing sight you had ever seen.

He put a hand on the back of your neck and pulled you to him, his lips against yours with his other hand at your waist. You were hit with the reminder of how it felt to have his soft lips on yours. 

You had only kissed him once before. A Touron at a boneyard party was being super clingy to JJ and he just wanted to shake her, so he claimed that you were his girlfriends and weren’t interested in her. She, of course, didn’t believe him so he kissed you to make it more believable. You had been comfortable with doing so as you had been wanting to get rid of her all night. This was a real kiss, filled with love and passion. You melted into the kiss, holding JJ closer. Wanting to pinch yourself to make sure this wasn’t a dream.

After a few moments, you both pull away, pressing your foreheads together, out of breath.

“Oh my god.”

You quickly pulled away from JJ and turned to see John B stood with his eyes wide, staring at the two of you still wrapped up in each other’s arms, shocked at what he had just  walked in on.

“Dude, it's not what it looks like,” JJ tried to explain.

“Pope!, you owe me $20!” He exclaimed as he ran back the way he came

You giggled. “I think we have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Sounds like they already know,” JJ smiled and kissed Y/N’s forehead before wrapping an arm around her and leading her back to the rest of the Pogues.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, please give it a reblog and leave some love <3

[voidcat]

– “Friend” is a four letter word

Characters: Kuroo Tetsurou / gn! reader

requested by anon, prompt 1

wc & genre: 2k - mostly fluff, a bit angst by the end

a/n: the title is literally a 1 trait danger song title, pls dont come @ me, i just thought it was nice to use bc “love” is a four letter word so yea,, also pls dont ship ppl irl or ask them too many Qs abt their relationshio even if they look so good together n should date bc it is rlly rlly annoying (speaking from experience)

The first you meet Kuroo Tetsurou, you don’t even notice.

It’s not surprising, he’s quiet and doesn’t gather attention. You don’t go looking around and keeping an eye on everyone either. The most is you’re just two fish in the vast sea, unaware of one another, too tangled with your own lives.

Then comes a moment, nothing special, almost out-of-a-movie type. It begins with a joke, if it can be considered that. It’s bad, awfully bad, a horrible pun in the middle of chemistry and from the volume of the voice you can tell they hoped no one would hear. But you do, so does few who sit next to him and your giggles dance around in the air. You don’t notice it’s him at that time but you grow to recognize his jokes in the following time.

Kuroo Tetsurou feels like a mystery when your eyes lie on him one afternoon. He’s not bad looking, a part of a sports team, a key member even. And yet compared to all the other jocks he doesn’t bask in the attention, in fact, he doesn’t receive any. Others like to brag and talk smug, as if they’ve discovered life in an inhabitable area and then there’s him. You can’t even tell he plays in the team if it’s not for the uniform and tracksuit he’s in after classes.

You think to yourself, if only jocks were like him. Still, you take no step and neither does he.

Maybe neither of you need to because the universe is more than happy to provide the nudge you both seem to need.

Funny enough it’s a science project that starts it.

He’s too quiet to your liking, speaking only when absolutely necessary. As you desperately try to kill the silence that hangs in the air, he avoids it as hard, making so little sound.

An idea comes as fast the lights are on and you speak before you even get to think ‘what’s there to lose?’

“No science puns for me? What happened, cat got your tongue?”

To say he is baffled, is the understatement of the year. You’re not sure if he’s surprised you’ve heard him joke or want to hear more of them; but either way, he looks cute, with his guard down, at a loss of reaction, mouth slightly open and – is that a hint of blush on his cheeks?

It only goes upwards from then on.

Awkward conversations is how it begins, seeking each other out in close environments is where you’re leaded.

You find yourself enjoying the way he talks, listening to what he has to say, the way his face brightens up when he starts talking out of pure interest. You only hope he feels the same way about you, and from the way he often discreetly directs you to take the lead and pick the topic, he does.

In a short span of time, you two are attached from the hip. Inseparable, always doing something, going somewhere, discussing a thing or just laughing. Shy smiles replaced with a Cheshire-like grin, almost ironic considering your school’s name, that’s only a new expression on him that you like to see.

It feels freeing, natural; as the sea sighs, the rain drops hit the surface and the sun shines. Two peas in a pod, thick as thieves, inseparable…

This goes beyond high school and throughout university too, which you’re grateful for. Because times come when you wonder where would you be without him, what would you do without his support; so you thank the stars once again, for having him in your life even today.

Then comes the times you wish you didn’t spend as much time together because the people around are being insufferable. All you want is to hang out with your best friend but half that time is stolen away by the never changing questions. Those who keep asking if you’re together, as an item. As if it doesn’t rub the salt in the already existing wound, it sure makes things unbearable. Getting approached by people you never saw before is no fun, neither is dealing with those who have the audacity to think you owe an explanation about your love life.

“But why? The two of you spend all the time together! Sure you must be in love!”

As if platonic relationships do not exist, surely do you have to love someone in that way to care for them? Loving Tetsu is a case that matters to only you, you’re happy knowing he cares for you, maybe not in the way as you but at the end of the day, the bond is there in plain sight, on your sleeve.

“But you guys would look so good together! Have you given dating a try? I’m sure it’d work out! I understand if you want to keep things a secret but come on, you must have had something going on-“

Stop, stop, stop…

It gets exhausting after a while, showing its signs on you, the irritation high and your nerves are at the edge, he notices it not long after.

After a little persuasion, you spill it all out, ranting about the pent up anger you had bottled all week –month maybe. You don’t notice the way his shoulders slump as you talk and go on about the stupidity of the people. It misses your attention how he talks less than usual that day, even after the mini ranting session. You do, however, notice how he starts to act strange around you. More preserved, and not as chatty as much. Holding his touch and avoiding contact, not going out of his way to approach you any longer. This drives you crazy, hurts a part of you and you worry –what if he has grown bored of me? Did I do something to hurt his feelings? Does he like someone and avoids me to get in their eye? What has happened, what did I do wrong? And goes and goes and goes the worries and the dynamics shift in your friendship.

So with the change of dynamics, you try desperately to hold onto what you once shared. Soon enough it’s you who invites the other to outings.

When your coffee offers are denied, you bring up walks, after that study dates, as he tries to ignore one attempt of alone time, you come up with another and one evening you find yourself asking to go to a party.

Campus parties with him, are interesting, to say the least. It stings when you’re separated, a punch to the stomach when he’s awfully close to those who were flirting with him, a new kind of torture when he keeps his talks with you short at the scene but at the end of the day you always leave, together, and you settle with this too, as you settled with all his love you could get years ago.

Some nights with booze apparent in the air, you don’t bug him with questions but each party gets worse somehow, only makes the distance between the two harder.

One night you snap and let it all out, unlike that afternoon it wasn’t an asked question but an aftereffect of him pushing your nerves and once you begin, you don’t stop, letting the storm out and he just looks at you.

You stop and his gaze stays, face devoid of any emotion and you worry, all the words you’ve said dawning on you and with one last attempt you whisper “Aren’t we friends?”

Voice calm and stern, colder than that icy cocktail you had: We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.

Holding back the tears by the corner of your eyes, you blink once and turn your back, steps set on your way. You can’t recall the last time you’ve walked home alone, without him.

Some time passes, days begin to blur and you try not to dwell on things too much or think about him that much. But the brain is a traitor as much as your heart and you find yourself thinking about him too much to your liking. Not sure whether you want him to find you, you keep an eye out; maybe plan to get out of the eye sight when you spot that messy hair but there’s not much need as he’s never around.

At the same time you’re unaware that this is his way of giving you a break, providing the alone time you needed away from him; as Tetsu tries his best to gather his thoughts and shape the sentences to show how he truly feels, what he actually thinks, he keeps an eye out for you. Even the smallest of smiles on you making his racing heart worse but what lands the final blow is how rarely you smile these days. Knowing he is the reason behind, knowing he causes the weight on your shoulders and the ache in his heart, he wishes more than anything to change this as soon as he can but he is at a loss of words and actions and he hates himself for that.

When the two of you are brought together once again, as fate pushes you from behind like it did years ago, you’re not sure who looks up first. But it is Tetsu who speaks first, not giving you a chance to say anything back, call him names or yell him insults. And as he talks, eyes focused on you, locked into yours, his gaze warmer than ever, his voice nothing like that disastrous night.

“I know I fucked up and ruined the best thing I’ve ever had in my life. I have nothing to blame but myself, I know, but please. Even though it’s selfish of me to ask this… Would you give me a second chance?”

Letting go of the breath you were holding, you prepare to answer him. He doesn’t let you.

“One last chance… To start over? Because that one sentence, as cold as it sounded, had a truth to it. And I- I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t go on and pretend like I don’t have- like I don’t have all these feelings in me. I can’t nod along to your rants about how much you hate the people perceiving the two of us as more than friends. ‘Cause you got to admit. They have a point. Maybe at the beginning, yes... But we’ve not been friends, not for a long while. And you know it too whether you want to say it or not.”

As if spoken without breathing once, considering this is Tetsu that was definitely the case ,he gulps and takes a step forward.

“Will you give me a last chance and let me show you how much I can love you? Free of this ‘just friends’ title. Would you let me take you on dates and make you laugh wide and loud? Not just as your friend but as your boyfriend? As your partner in crime and in life, as Persephone is the pastel queen of hell in the realm of Hades, the sun to my Icarus, the Sodium to my Chlorine?..”

His speech was getting to you until the last sentence, your softened body goes stone cold, hands hanging in the air, Tetsu’s last pleads of “would you let me?”s falling deaf to your ears.

The gears turn quick and he realizes exactly which one of his words could leave an effect like this, be so ridiculous and bring you to a halt.

One of those smug smiles you saw on his face often, he says “What happened, cat got your tongue?”

And your mouse hanging open, all you can do is smack him on the arm, as hard as you can, for that awful salt simile and for using your words on you.

Before you know it, both of you are laughing and the air feels warm once again.

tags: @celosiiaa​ @boosyboo9206