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yxstxrdrxxm · 8 months

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SYNOPSIS: Kazuha, a well-known tailor in Inazuma, had a spouse. It's only a shame that his spouse is known for their 'infidelity' in his eyes. [ songfic ]

TW/S: Yandere tendencies, stalking, minor and major character death/s, emotional manipulation in a way, gore, violence, fire/arson, sewing... questionable fabric, unreliable narrator, shifting POVs, dead dove: do not eat, dollification, delusional thinking, Kazuha progressively loses it till the end, beheading, oh God this fic and tws are long Im so sorry―

NOTE: During the fic, it is recommended to listen to "The Tailor of Enbizaka". It will make sense when you read through this fic :)

(also, I apologize if this took a while for me to write. I got busy and writer's block hit me :( anyways, second work and its the best boy! Though, I hope you all don't blame me for fucking him up. Also also!! This is very much a long, LONG fic— like 2k+ long, so 🫡 gl soldier, I'll see if I don't need to make this to a 2 part series)

(update: this fic took 6k words, good luck y'all, this one is a WILD ride)

In Inazuma, there is a tale that is shared by many about a crimson clad man and his lover.

The others never settled on what he looked during the day before his death, nor were they sure what his prior job was before he became a tailor. However, they always complimented him for his looks and his skill, knowing that whatever he used as his own special fabric would be tailored and taken care of well.

Even with one full of holes and tears, he is gifted with the ability to patch them up till it was brand new. In the village he lived in, he was regarded for having such a talent, and he had his shop open and full of visitors.

However, the only thing that made people question him was his behavior. Despite how mild-manner the tailor was, he often comments on how his beloved darling refused to come home and continues to cheat on him.

Many those that still lived during the time said the crimson-eyed tailor acted delusional, but just how far can those delusions go?

No one knows but the man himself... And the one who persecuted him, too.

It was that year since I've seen my beloved after the accident.

A year that, when I saw them, I've longed to see them and speak to them about our time together as a married couple.

To begin with, I am Kaedehara Kazuha, or― as the townsfolk here call me, the 'Crimson-Eyed Tailor'. Although I am highly regarded for my craftsmanship, many told me that I am odd for my adoration for my beloved maple.

Why is it that odd? I thought all married couples do this, even if some think that it feels off.

Besides that, however, my darling isn't quite aware of my... Endeavors. More specifically, their streak of getting out for hours, perhaps days and weeks, and not even coming around to speak to me.

I am bound to them by an oath when we were married: we both drank sake together under that faithful light of the moon, with only nature watching over us. However, it would seem as if they have forgotten that, and ended up cheating on me in broad daylight.

Like they had no such shame.

Alas, I am but their husband, and I can't simply get mad at my beloved spouse. I know they did no wrong, for they sometimes meet with others as an act of being 'friendly'.

So while I focused on fixing the kimono, I've began to hear something that had been passed around in the village.

Something related to my darling's little ventures.

"I have spoken to [Name] about the matters in their marriage recently," one of the ladies spoke, her voice not so soft enough to conceal who she was speaking about as I fixed the fabric in my hands.

"And from what they told me, they're getting their kimono fixed for when their lover returns home!"

I simply continued on sewing, but the lady's next words had me flinch.

"Ah, they've been married for years, aren't they? And it seems they even have their shiromuku ever since their marriage to sir Kamisato Ayato. How romantic!"

...

The blood continues to spill on my finger, with the needle that I used pricking it when I've lost focus and got too careless.

How uncouth.

From the tale shared by the folks of Narukami Island, they talked about the crimson-eyed tailor's marriage with his supposed 'spouse': an immigrant of sorts from Fontaine, traversing to Inazuma to meet with their lover.

Their relationship together is strange. From the accounts of those with prying eyes, they said that he was the only one putting an effort to their relationship, and they wished to take it slow.

However, there are those that disagreed, saying that it had been the other way around— and it was he who wished for them to slow down.

No one can decide what the tailor had done, for they can't even tell if his desires were to rush or to slow down. But what can be confirmed is one thing everyone kept saying.

He doesn't like his trust being broken.

It had been days after hearing what I did.

I hadn't seen my dearest beloved in those days, and the day I saw them had been when the heir of the Kamisato clan had returned.

I had been busy as ever in sewing till I realized that I'm running out of thread. I don't have any spares, and I'm well aware that there are a few shops that sell supplies for sewing.

And so, on a lazy afternoon, I've got out of my shop in the hopes that I can catch the store to buy the supplies I needed.

The soft sound of wood hitting the pavement greeted my ears, alongside hushed murmuring and discussing with the commonfolk. I greeted a few that noticed me in passing, but they were swift to return to the people they were speaking to prior.

It was a mundane thing, really. But it was the type that felt familiar.

Turning a few corners, I managed to locate the shop I was looking for. Walking up the stairs, I waved at the lady taking care of the store—

—not before my ears perked up at the soft chattering in the distance.

My eyes trailed over to the source, and then, I see them.

My beloved maple.

I saw that they were conversing with the heir of the Kamisato clan, his hand reaching over to hand them a small gift: a small box, with the ribbon being the color of purple. I spot the gleam of gold on top of the ribbon, which eludes me to think that it is the insigna of the clan crested in gold.

How tacky.

I had to hold back the urge to stop them as their conversation was hard to discern, my focus back on the woman running the shop with the supplies I require.

"Hello, madame," I greeted, making the woman smile and nod in greeting as well. "Do you need fabric again, Kaedehara?"

I chuckled, but it was only to mask the bits of instability in my voice.

"Oh, not fabric, madame. I simply desire thread. I have ran out of red and black, and I didn't want to delay the commission I had from monsieur Lyney. Do you have any right now?"

"Red and black thread, hm? I can check at the back. Please give me a moment to look."

With a bow, the seamstress turned around to leave. With that, I let go of the breath I held and turned my gaze back to the bridge, just a few ways away from where my beloved sunset was at.

Watching the two figures, I couldn't help but simply stared at the attire that the heir wore.

Montsuki Haori Hakama: that usually means black or gray. I've known that colored kimonos were not worn with this in mind, and he certainly didn't wore anything that would be too straining.

Still, that shade of black is made of high quality. I'm not surprised if he wore it so rarely, as though to preserve the detail and its intricate work from his very own seamstress.

...

I wonder if I can take it?

Watching the two descend from the bridge, my eyes wandered back to the lady as she returned with the spools of thread, all varying in degrees of color and quality.

"Here you are, Kaedehara! These are the best I can find that fit the colors you asked for."

My eyes twinkled as I took the spools to my hands, my fingers turning and nudging the thread to see just how strong it is.

Interesting. Good quality, too... Maybe I can use this to finish that outfit I've been saving for a while.

"Thank you, madame," I thanked her, making her laugh. "Oh, it's not a problem, Kaedehara! You've done so much for this little town of ours, this is but a simple thing to repay for your efforts!"

With a nod, I paid the seamstress and turned back down to descend from the bustling upper part of the town, the sight of what happened in the bridge a bit further away bothering me from within.

No matter, Kazuha, I mused, carrying the items I required as I felt myself walk back home. Even if you want to get rid of him, it will be much too complicated. You simply need to be patient and wait till the opportunity comes.

...

Although, whoever made his clothes... I wonder if I can speak to them to inquire about their techniques.

The first case that started this was a cold one.

One that is related to a person no one knew so highly about, be it by their background, appearance, and even their name. All they were known for is being the 'tailor' for one of the clans.

There had been a lack of evidence and information about this due to how many tailors had been requested all across Inazuma at the time. It was understandable that people chalked up to them being missing as nothing more than an unfortunate case, not one worthy of being dug into.

Others had suspected that it had been associated with something else, that something (or someone) had done this deliberately. There was no evidence to this, but their claims were loud as they were bold, making it difficult to ascertain its authenticity.

However, the masses have all agreed that this was a normal occurrence. It was not one worth noting, because there had been a lot more that spoke of the same tale, always eluding to their fate being that they were murdered.

It was, unfortunately, the 'norm' of the village in the legend. A norm that, if the people of Inazuma heard it today, would have turned their heads in disgust for how abhorrent it sounds.

Still, many remained curious of the biggest what if that seem to echo in their mind.

Was the tailor associated with his sins?

The Kamisato clan has had it's ups and downs, and it isn't strange to see that they were seeking out talented tailors and workers to work under them.

What was surprising (to everyone), however, was that the head of the clan hired me to work as the Kamisato Clan's personal tailor.

The reasoning behind it was quite simple, especially with what the heir spoke to me when he and I met in the morning when I was to be summoned in the estate— due to his personal tailor (a family friend, he said) going missing for days, they were unable to track down his whereabouts and presumed that he has gone missing.

I was only hired as a "replacement" for the clan's special tailor till then, and he made it extremely clear that there was nothing else to it. Nothing that would spell the fact that I will permanently stay in that position.

Of course, to many, this may sound as an odd deal. There are so many tailors such as myself that would die to be consulted on, to work as the head of the clan's seamstress and work for their outfits. And perhaps, in their naivety, they may consider it as their efforts finally paying off in some way.

However, I have been in a clan myself before. This is nothing more if not a business deal.

A deal between one rising clan, and one whose surname has lost it's widely known heritage.

This only benefits the Kamisato Clan in the effort to save face. To save face of the potential backlash they'll deal with should any information of the missing clan's tailor be brought to light to everyone who remain blissfully ignorant of the innerworkings of the clan.

I would normally deny this kind of offer, mostly because there is no benefit for me to join and work for them. However, times have changed, and I simply reconsidered denying Kamisato Ayato's offer.

... There is a few benefits to me joining. It may be minimal, but it is better than scrounging around in the dark.

And so, I agreed to the offer.

The arrangements set for me to move was quite swift. I'm aware that that he is a man of his word, so it was quite easy for us to prepare my living arrangements and move to the estate.

With the supplies I get from the clan, it's been easy to stay put and gather information to the person I'm targeting.

... That was, until that day came.

I remember it clearly: it was the ends of fall, where the maple leaves fell more and more around the estate's grounds. This usually signified the coming of winter, so I usually savor the season by having time off to admire the scenery.

And in one of my walks, I had travelled from outside of the estate to see if things have changed.

Which, to my luck, I've encountered my darling beloved.

But just like last time, they were not alone.

In the journey of my wandering, I have seen them speak to the sibling of the older heir, Kamisato Ayaka, as they sit on the table outside of the Komore Teahouse.

From how far I am to the entrance of the teahouse, it gives me enough space to watch them interact like friends. The way that the Himegimi raised her fan to cover her face, perhaps from her eyes crinkling in amusement from what they told her...

... It was intriguing. Very intriguing.

So much so that I've felt the claws of envy grip in my chest, clutching its metal nails and making punctures on my already bleeding heart.

What a nuisance. Must you hurt me like this, darling?

I can hardly remember what happened after that. After all, my focus had been set on the two speaking to each other like they were simply companions, unknowing of what fate may bring upon them.

...

"Oh? Kazuha! I didn't notice you came to the Teahouse as well!"

My attention was swiftly pulled away from the sight of my dearest gem, and it landed on the familiar sight of olive eyes. From the appearance alone, many wouldn't think that an immigrant of Mondstadt would be a fixer.

Not even I would be able to see it happen.

However, this man had the skills to prove of his worth— after all, being Inazuma's 'fixer', he's often the go-to man to fix any and every problem that the Narukami Island and others may face.

Which makes him a glass canon— one that is volatile and unpredictable, even under the guise of a friendly face.

That is what Thoma is.

But this "glass cannon" has his weakness, and I know how to use it to my advantage.

Letting a smile slip to my lips, I chuckled, raising my hand to cover my mouth. "Well, I've been foretold by others about Komore Teahouse and it's history. I've been meaning to visit it, but I'm so busy fixing kimonos and making them to have time to spare."

A white lie, but then again, there are many of those that have been foretold in the waking of this world.

What does adding one do at this point? I'm already damned by the heavens the day I've seen the 'truth' of this fate of mine.

Just one lie wouldn't hurt, right?

"Haha, I can't blame you," the taller blonde seem to answer my query with his own, albeit he did seem to look more like he was at ease. Still, I needed to be weary; he can change sides if he so much as sensed that something is wrong.

"After all, with what the missing tailor in the clan circulating around the others in the estate, I'm even surprised that you manage to fill up in their position for months!"

... Oh? So he's noticed my talents, hm?

I shook my head.

"Oh, please. I'm just a humble tailor, Thoma," I reasoned, letting out a heavy sigh. "I have thought of asking them for advice on how they do their work, but since they're missing, all I can do is substitute for their absence."

He gave me an apologetic smile and nodded.

"That is true... I guess I'm just a bit too ecstatic to finally have someone that can fill in their role seamlessly. Lord Kamisato Ayato would've been panicking if we didn't have a replacement soon for his anniversary with his spouse."

... Spouse, huh?

"Hm... Is that so?"

I frowned in thought as I ponder over wanting to... Ask him for a favor. Sure, this one wouldn't do well on one's conscious mind if they knew, but it was simply for their sake.

It was all for them. I knew that.

It wouldn't hurt anyone if I asked Thoma to do this for me. At least, while I still have the chance to do so.

I can only hope the cannon does not think of shooting it's shot to me if I slipped up.

"Speaking of, Thoma, may I ask you for a favor?"

After the first missing case of the tailor, there had been more that were reported. The victims were all varied in their appearance, age, and even from where they used to live, be it in Narukami Island or even outside of Inazuma itself.

It was difficult to tell how many there were exactly, especially with how the legend is interpreted. Some said it was 20, while others said it was 50. This legend has been passed mouth to mouth, so details were not a key figure for a few to remember well.

However, every iteration has the same detail. The victims all had the same similarity as the tailor that simply went "missing".

All of them, in some way, were associated with certain individuals— one of them being his maple, where a few commented that they were the apple of the crimson man's eye.

From the legend and how it has been told, it is safe to assume that the motive was obvious from the first missing case.

It is akin of an open secret, if said secret was twisted to fit his ideals.

"Haven't you heard?"

"What? What is it?"

"The fixer, Thoma… He went missing just few days ago."

"What!?"

…

Ah, so he went missing like the others?

My ears had perked up at the news that we were told. Although Thoma is one many people never thought of being a 'target', the fact he went missing is... Odd.

"Perhaps he had done something," I heard one of the servants whisper amongst themselves, looking rather cautious. "After all, he's been very privy on a few things..."

"Yes, but he isn't the person I'd expect to vanish like that—"

"Shh—! People are going to hear you, you know! Keep it down!"

Hearing their footsteps echo as they take their leave, I turned back to what I have been working on. The sight of the kimono graced my vision as I raised the needle.

I began to sew the tears on it, letting out a soft hum while I fixed the black fabric from it's horrible state.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut—

"Sir Kaedehara? Someone is looking for you."

...!

I felt the needle prick my finger, but I didn't say anything. With a quiet hum, I raised my head to see someone speak to me, their face grim as they shifted on their feet.

Ah.

Despite the feeling of blood pour onto the fabric, I smiled and nodded, putting down the fabric of the kimono I was fixing.

"I'll be right there. Please tell them to wait for me."

"Really? Oh, thank Archons. I'll get going."

Watching them take their leave, my eyes flit over to my scissors.

Still as sharp as ever, I mused, pushing myself to stand up before fixing my attire. Mayhaps today won't need it to be sharpened.

For now, I had to see what the client wants from me. It would simply be a shame if I leave them alone for far, far too long.

Mayhaps they're here to inquire about the kimono I made. I made sure to add my personal touch to it.

...

As I walked to where my client sought to look for me, I see a familiar sight befell in the grounds of the Kamisato Estate.

The himegimi is currently speaking to my betrothed like they are close companions, and the magician (Lyney was his name, I recall), had been listening to their discussion at hand.

His eyes seem to lit up when he saw me, offering me a welcoming grin.

"You must be the tailor that my sister assigned, aren't you?" he asked when I was close enough to hear him, making me chuckle. Taking a seat across, I simply nodded, keeping my professional smile and demeanor in fear of offending him.

"Indeed, I am that tailor. My name is Kaedehara Kazuha, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Haha, please, the pleasure is all mine!"

The magician shook my hand with mine, and the meeting went as smoothly as one may expect. Although, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander sometimes to where my lover is.

You were speaking to Ayaka like she's a friend of yours. I shan't stop you, darling, but perhaps you aren't aware of the pain you put me through.

Still, I couldn't afford to raise my voice, nor can I think of hurting you with my actions.

How unfortunate. Mayhaps I need to teach you a lesson myself, my angel.

If there was one thing that the legend failed to elaborate, it is the state of the missing people. However, there were... Creative liberties to those that began to see if the legend was true; or, pray tell, associated with any real life events.

To the eyes of others, going missing is a serious deal. It sparks a lot of ideas for what could've happened to them, and especially if they are alive or dead.

Albeit many shrugged off the prior cases, this one was serious. After all, the one that went 'missing' is the fixer of Narukami Island— Thoma, the immigrant in the nation of lightning.

It is, after all, what sparked the eventual downfall of the crimson-eyed tailor and his beloved. Many had thought this was the turning point, but those that did were found to be wrong.

This, after all, was simply the beginning of such downfall. But it wasn't to his lover, the missing residents, or even his companions.

It was to himself, when he used the blades to commit a sin undeserving of forgiveness.

The news that brought upon the missing Himegimi greeted the Kamisato estate that day.

I remember how people were in a disarray. They were much more shaken as they tried to get any sort of lead to where she is, and for some, they were already thinking of quitting.

The estate is already shaken from when Thoma went missing, but now that the young heiress has up and disappeared— especially in winter— it was in chaos.

While I sew the kimonos handed to me, there was an obi that laid on the pile by my right. It was a bit worn, but it can still be saved.

I needed to fix it, and give it my own personal touch. That way, it wouldn't look as though it had been abandoned by it's past owner.

Alas, the noise is getting to me. I could feel the silk resting on my bandaged hand slip every once in a while, if it weren't for how tight I've been holding the fabric.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

I needed to put my focus on what I'm doing. I needed to focus on the job.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

I mustn't let blood nor dirt stain my creations.

That is what my mother taught me.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, se—

"I apologize if the estate is in a disarray, detective," I hear a familiar voice speak amongst the hushed and panicked whispers. "The estate hasn't been the same ever since my retainer and my younger sibling had gone missing."

"Oh, it's alright! I'm sure this matter is too serious for you and the others to keep things organized."

"Haha... You can say that it is. Now, it's just right this way..."

... A detective is in the estate. How curious.

It wasn't right to snoop, but I was curious. Curious enough to have finished the kimono I was fixing before I stood to leave my quarters.

The others paid no heed as I followed after the two to Ayato's room, too focused to do what they were assigned to even bat an eye when I got close to where they were heading.

It was only when they were inside that I've stopped and simply bid my time, my focus set on what was happening by the shoji leading to his office. And it didn't took long till I hear things from the other side.

"Ah, so you think that someone is out for you?"

"Yes. Although I am normally adept in figuring out who it could be that's causing this to happen, I can't put heads or tails with how their presence eludes me."

"Man alive... And you said that it started when they went missing?"

"... Yes, detective."

"I see... Man alive, that sounds like it wasn't just a single, one-off case, then. I can help you, but this will take a while if there's no leads."

"I see. It's fine, detective. I'll pay you enough when you figure out where my retainer and sister are. I could hardly think that someone would take them without such consequence."

"Oh, no worries. With me around, no criminal will get out unscathed— I'll make sure to bring them here when I figure out who did this."

...

I see.

Perhaps its about time I have to settle this with him.

There was a time where I have thought that things will change.

Where these cases will be laid forgotten, perhaps even unresolved with the lack of hints.

I spent weeks on end, keeping my tracks short and erasing any leads that can lead towards me again.

I spent so, so long trying so desperately to hide anything resembling my crimes.

But alas... He found me.

It was the time where I had to dispose of those bodies. Although I had no heart to bury them under nature, I was not above treating them as though they were simply people.

Even in death, I wanted to make them feel like they look peaceful. Although, perhaps simply sewing their wounds left by my scissors was not something I can treat.

In the middle of the night, I was carrying the Himegimi outside of the abandoned houses I tend to with her retainer, Thoma. I had thought of letting her rest someplace else. Her attire has been sullied, and I needed to keep the two somewhere where no one can find them.

Corpses rot over time, and if it was possible, letting them turn to nothing in the likes of Tsurumi Island will be enough for my weary heart to rest.

With how adept I am of keeping my tracks hidden, I had thought no one would be able to tail on me. But alas, due to the missing cases I've caused, perhaps I wasn't expecting this to happen.

"I knew you'd be here, Kaedehara Kazuha."

I simply paused upon hearing his voice, my head craning back to see that it was Ayato. Despite how composed he looks, I can tell that the nights he spent trying to search for his beloved sibling and retainer wore him down.

His once flawless appearance was nothing but sullied, his attire feeling like its simply hanging off of him, and the way he staggered while looking at me without a shred of restrain is new. Raw for such a heir.

"And that body..." he murmured, his eyes glaring daggers when he found out who it was.

Perhaps it's her dress that makes her recognizable. Or the hair.

"... I thought I've erased everything that can lead back to me," I spoke, sighing as I placed Ayaka's body down. "What a shame. I was quite close to erasing any traces and signs of their whereabouts. It would be nice to only have them be marked as 'missing', not dead."

"So... You admit to it, then?" the heir asked, walking over with stride. "That you have done this, Kaedehara?"

I simply said nothing.

And I knew that was enough of a confirmation for him.

"I knew something was wrong with you," I heard him speak, which caught my attention. Turning my body to finally face him, I watched as he scoffed and continued, "After all, a man as serene as you often had the worst to hide."

"Oh? How curious. Why would you say that?"

I saw his lips curl to a smile.

"Why, I had someone tail after you," he answered, his tone sounding so blunt and his demeanor became more like he's simply 'teaching' me something. "Someone that is associated with the clan. I'm sure you know who it is."

... How uncouth.

"I see... And you confronted me now? For what?"

"A duel."

He unsheathed his blade, and raised it towards my direction.

"I do not usually participate in these, but I'd like to honor your tradition. If I win, you turn yourself in to the Tenryou Commission. Confess all of your crimes, and we shall call it even."

"... Very well."

I raised my own blade, as a sign to his own.

"I needn't state my own terms if I lose, as I can't let you get out alive. Now, let us settle this matter... To each of our graves."

Usually, such details cannot be recreated from interpretation alone.

However, this one was the few exceptions to it's inevitable fate due to it's popularity.

The legend had focused on keeping the existence and ties of the Crimson-Eyed Tailor up for the listener's interpretation. This scene, however, was directly associated to a case that had been tackled many years ago.

The case went as such: each resident of a town goes missing each week. No one knows when it happens, as the day is often random. The victims of these disappearances are also random, so no one could derive from it being a 'pattern'.

No matter how young or old one is, their gender, their living conditions, and even their past... When they least expect it, they simply vanish. Erased.

The only times where the victim was found, several eye-witnesses had different iterations. Some said that the bodies were buried, while others found it floating by riverbanks and the side of the sea.

But the most common— and widely known, of course— was that each victim were made to a doll.

Their limbs were nothing if not sewn with thread, cuts of various degrees being patched with thread of similar color to 'mask' it's oddity. Their eyes were closed, but those that were unfortunate to open it were only greeted with it being turned to the back of their heads.

In some victims, several pieces of their possession were taken. However, most kept theirs on their person, and were seen to not be tampered with.

No one knows what drove someone to this degree. No one can even comprehend such a fact that it was entirely possible.

But to someone who's mind was twisted to the point of no return... It was.

This case had a name, but every resident of Inazuma refused to speak of it. Each time one does, they were told of the legend behind this case.

They were told of the Crimson-Eyed Tailor, and they were warned of one thing.

"Do not look at him or his betrothed. If you do, you're as good as dead."

...

It had been a year since our fight happened.

I remember the chaos that occurred back when I finally erased that man. Although it did left his body in an undesirable state, I still fixed and sew him up so that he didn't look as such.

Even in death, I wish to give the heir some form of dignity. That, in some way, I wish to give him his final respects.

After all, he had simply misunderstood my intentions. He didn't knew that I was out for one person from the very beginning.

The downfall of the Kamisato Clan was imminent at that point. I've seen many flee, and witnessed the tragedy befall on the Narukami Island. Many of the people I've met had simply ran off to seek refuge, the terror grasping and choking them like they were unable to think.

However, I remain clear. And I simply continued to do my work diligently.

I have been working on something... Special. And with one last snip of my bloodied scissors, it was now complete.

My final and life-long work, all laid across and now in my hands. The fabric I chose was rather difficult to sew. I should have known that human skin would be too hard, depending on where I retrieved it from.

Dying it in black, I wrapped the obi that had been sewn with the use of the Himegimi's locks, and retrieved the crest of the Kamisato Clan. Adorning it on my person, I viewed myself at the mirror to see my handiwork.

"Finally," I murmured, feeling an odd sensation in my chest as I wore the fruits of my labor. "It is now complete."

With the chaos guiding me and masking my presence, I fled to head by the mountain.

I knew where you were bound to go.

I knew of your crimes long before you knew me.

I didn't paid much attention if anyone saw me. I didn't care if blood simply poured from my attire and to the ground that I'm walking on. I could hardly give a damn if some realized of my crimes in that blasted estate.

I had my scissors with me, and I only wish to fulfill my last wish before I leave this cursed world.

You murdered my family, [Name].

You were the one who caused that fire all those years ago.

I remember those burns you gave me. I remember just how much of a coward you were, fleeing from the scene you caused yourself.

How could I lose everything? And how can you keep your family?

No. No, that mustn't happen. I must set this right.

As your 'lover', I'll make sure you understand what you did wrong.

The culprit of the legend was caught, at least by the end.

All of the townsfolk had banded over to help the detective figure out who had caused such a stir, and it was only because of one eye-witness that said everything. That simply told the truth of the man behind it all.

It was the Crimson-Eyed Tailor, the one who was gripped with envy, that caused such a massacre to occur.

When they found what became of the last victim, his 'lover', they became a doll of his own. After killing them, the legend proceeded to speak of how he had simply 'sown' their skin alongside his, making them his perfect beloved doll.

One of the iterations even mentioned that his unnamed lover was in a Shiromuku outfit, eyes gouged so they may "never look at another man". At least, from what the tale has concluded.

Because of the severity of his crime, the tailor was sent to be on his death row. When the detective tried to get information out of him, they found out that he has lost his mind.

He became a shell of the brilliant man they knew, laughing and speaking that he has finally fulfilled his desire.

Even when he was dragged onto the guillotine, that day was marked as the end of the massacre, and those who were alive spoke of the man's chilling laughter up until his head was cut off.

...

And that was the end of the "Crimson-Eyed Tailor" and his legend.

Or, more accurately, the history of the known "Dead Man's Heart" case, and how Kaedehara Kazuha murdered the one he "loved" for revenge.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023

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anonymous-rendezvous · 6 months

Text

Take A Break, Won’t You?

💙 Ike Eveland x GN!Reader

✦ — Written by Mod S 👿. Beta Read and Edited by Mod I ✨. ⏌

✧ — Contains: Established Relationship, NSFW 🔞, oral (male reciving), Dom!Ike, slightly bratty Reader, teasing, & hair pulling

✦ — Word count: 5k+ | Ao3

The novelist is in the middle of writing one of his greatest stories yet. Except, he’s been so engrossed in writing that he hasn’t paid much attention to you as of late. Luckily for you though, you know just how to push his buttons to gain his attention.

Part 2 of Under-The-Desk Shenanigans

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Ike is a very brilliant man. His mind can conjure up some of the most creative and enthralling ideas you’ve ever heard. Ranging between the most fantastical of fantasy to the more mundane and down-to-earth slices of life. Truly, he is one of the most hard-working people you know.

The only downside to such a person is that he gets completely enraptured by his work. Often forgetting to eat or sleep; and on rare occasions, even forgetting to bathe. Running merely on willpower and caffeinated drinks. Today was one such day, but instead of forgetting to eat or sleep, he’s kinda forgotten that you’re his partner. You know he doesn’t do it purposefully. But even with your godly amount of patience – you too have a limit.

Currently, you are making him a cup of tea. Waiting beside the cup as it steeps, enjoying the smell as you stand in your shared kitchen. ‘Maybe this’ll convince him to take a break,’ you think to yourself. Knowing Ike though, he’ll most likely promise to take one, but just keep on working. Sighing at the thought, you remove the tea bag from the cup and discard it. You pause for a moment before deciding to grab him a muffin as well. “Here’s hoping I can convince him with this.”

Walking down the hall, tea and muffin in hand, you can hear his working playlist before you even approach the office door. Setting the small plate containing the muffin over the top of the tea, you raise your free hand to knock lightly before opening the door an inch. Calling out in a soft voice to your boyfriend, “My love, I’ve brought you some tea and a little snack.”

Ike looks up, hazel eyes landing on you as he adjusts his glasses. He sits up straighter and gives you a soft smile as he locks eyes with you. “Oh, thank you, sweetie. I was just thinking about getting myself a drink.” The novelist makes a beckoning motion with his hand, urging you inside as he says, “Go ahead, come in.”

Following his motion, you step in and nudge the door shut behind you. “Making good progress?” you inquire as you approach his desk, setting down the plate.

He nods while gesturing to his work, showing you the latest page. “Actually, yes, I’ve been on a roll since this morning. Even made it to page one hundred and twenty-five, which is past the goal I had for today.”

Your entire demeanor perks up at his words, excitedly asking, “Does this mean you’re done for the day?”

He freezes for a moment before looking at you sheepishly. “Uhhh, well…” He looks to the side, fidgeting with the chain on his glasses. “I was gonna keep going, honestly. My brain is still moving a million miles a minute, and I feel really motivated.”

You pout at him, visibly disappointed by the news as your shoulders sag. He’s been working like this ever since he woke up; you’re worried he’ll overexert himself. Hell, he’s already showing some signs of it. His eyes look tired from staring at the screen and his posture has gotten worse since you’ve last been in here. You refuse to leave him like this. He watches you in confusion as you turn to grab a chair from the other side of the room.

“Darling, what are you doing?” Ike turns in his chair, following your movements as you drag your chair next to his.

“I’m staying here with you to make sure you at least drink all that tea and eat the muffin. You’ve been working all day. So if I can’t convince you to take a break, I’m staying here. Lord knows when you’ll be done.” When you sit in your chair and look back into his eyes, you can see how apologetic he is. He truly feels bad for making you worry over him, and he wishes he could fight this habit, but it’s just so ingrained in him.

With a sigh, he nods and scoots back into his desk. “Okay. I have no problem with you staying either way, but I appreciate your worry for me. I wouldn’t wanna make you any more upset than you are with me, too.”

You cross your arms over your chest, and with an exaggerated pout, you turn your head. “That’s right, you owe me big time.” His melodic laugh fills the room as you peek back at him, watching as Ike picks up his tea to take a sip.

“Of course, darling, you’ll have me all to yourself after I’m done.” His tone is much softer and you can hear the apology laced in those words. Uncrossing your arms, you get comfortable in your chair, pulling your phone out to busy yourself while he continues his novel. Letting a few moments pass, he slowly gets completely re-engrossed in his work. All the while, you decided it was time to switch tactics. After all, your presence and tea offering failed to convince him to take a break.

Time for Plan B; a more physical distraction.

Moving a bit closer, your chair's armrest bumps into his. You let out a small ‘sorry’, causing him to peek at you instead of your hands. He gives you a quick nod and returns to typing, while you wait another moment before slowly pulling up the armrests of both your chairs, granting you new access to his body. He lets out a startled noise as he feels your head suddenly rest on his shoulder, hazel eyes looking down at you. You return his gaze with an innocent expression, honey-coated words dripping from your lips. “Sorry darling, just resting my head on your shoulder. Didn’t mean to startle you, you're just so… warm.”

Ike blushes a bit at your words, physically pausing for a moment. For a second, he could have sworn he heard something else in your tone. Yet when you just stay there on his shoulder, his suspicions tamp down as quickly as they came. Clearing his throat, he returns his gaze to the screen, adjusting his glasses in embarrassment. “W–well, it’s no problem. Stay there as long as you like.” He wasted no time in returning to his work, but this time, thoroughly flustered.

‘Good, all according to plan.’ you think, fighting down a smirk. You make yourself comfortable, nuzzling and cuddling into Ike’s side. The novelist, on the other hand, was completely still aside from his hands diligently working. Yet what was happening within his thoughts was another story.

He was in a state of frenzy, his thoughts spiraling out of control. It wasn't until this moment that he genuinely grasped how much he had missed having you next to him. He feels even worse as he realizes how much time– the sheer amount of weeks this has gone on for and realizes that this is probably how you’ve felt within that time. He swore then he’d only finish a few more pages so he could then properly give you attention. Except Ike is jolted from his thoughts when he suddenly feels one of your hands on his chest, the heat of your skin sinking into the fabric. One of your fingers lightly traced the buttons on his shirt. He tries to pay no mind to it at first – that is until your hand starts trailing lower and lower. “Sweetie,” he keeps his tone even, looking down at you, “what are you doing?”

You look back at him with the same innocent eyes as before, but he swears he sees a hint of mischievousness in them. “Don’t mind me; just preoccupying myself until you're done. Am I being distracting?” Your last question has a slightly smokey tone to it, and you can’t help but giggle as you watch Ike’s cheeks get brighter as he grows more flustered.

“U–uh not at all…” He pauses as he averts his eyes back to his computer. Taking a breath before speaking again, “I’ll only be doing a couple more pages, so this won’t take too long.”

You let out a drawn-out ‘Mhmmm’ as you circle the lower buttons on his shirt. With how you were currently positioned, you could hear the way he swallowed hard. He’s almost there, you can feel it. Just a bit more teasing – a few more sweet words – and then you’ll have his full attention.

The realization was slowly dawning on the novelist. There was no way this couldn’t have been a formulated plan. All the honeyed words, the soft touches– a plan to distract him. And if he was honest with himself, at any other time, he likely would’ve given in already. If only he wasn't in the middle of writing an integral part of his story. He hopes by telling you that he’s almost done, that you won’t take the teasing any further. That’s what he hopes at least. Ike, however, knows you. He’s spent more than enough time with you to pick out your tells, just as you’ve learned to pick up on his. He just prays you’re not in a particularly devilish mood today.

Settling back in, a good half hour passes with you just resting against him – occasionally messing with his buttons from time to time. You didn’t wanna rush your plan. That wouldn’t be fun. And honestly, you want him to welcome the distraction. A frustrated Ike Eveland was attractive, but you didn’t want to frustrate him to the point of actually being upset. Peeking back up at him, you note that he’s no longer tense from your earlier actions. Hazel eyes glazed with focus and his lips pursed in concentration. It’s honestly adorable and if you weren’t feeling so touch-starved you wouldn’t have minded staying like this. Alas, you wanted some harmless payback.

Wetting your lips, you slowly take in the skin on his neck before lightly kissing it as you nuzzle your face into him. Immediately his attention is returned to you, head tipped down to look at you, lips parted as your action had surprised him. However, you just giggle and continue to pepper his neck with soft kisses. Ike makes a noise and you can feel the vibrations of it with the way your lips are pressed against his neck. Sliding your gaze up, you find his face is a mix of flustered and pouty, his eyebrows furrowed to match his emotions.

His eyes search yours as he speaks, a slight franticness to his voice, “Hun, please, I promise I’m almost done. No teasing, okay?”

You wet your lips again in response, catching the way his eyes flicker down for a second before he returns his gaze to yours. “Teasing? Me? I’m just giving you some kisses. It’s been so long–” you draw the word out, intentionally pouting your lips so they continue to brush against his neck– “since I’ve gotten one from you.”

Ike furrows his eyebrows, a slight pout forming on his soft lips. “And I will give you all the kisses you want when I’m done.” His tone is firm but gentle as he makes his point. One of his hands accentuated his words as he spoke. Sighing, he turns his attention back to his computer. “No more teasing, sweetie.” With that, he gets back to typing, determined to not be distracted anymore; keeping his focus on the novel.

Yet the second his eyes return to the screen, a smirk curls against your lips. ‘Perfect, he’s getting frustrated. Time for the finale.’ As you nuzzle into his neck once more, you continue to pepper light kisses on his neck. Letting your lips linger on a few, the hand on his chest moves to unbutton his top shirt button. Your eyes stay locked on his expression, watching him the entire time as he tries to refrain from letting you distract him further. Yet by the pink of his ears, you can tell your touch is working.

Keeping an excruciatingly slow pace, you unbutton another button. Fingers playing with the fabric on his shirt, the skin of your hand just lightly grazing his bare chest. Ike closes his eyes tightly for a second, attempting to calm his breathing. He can’t let you win. He's stubborn. But he knows that you are, too. In the process of him trying to control his breathing, it suddenly catches in his throat – feeling your tongue lick at his neck, causing his body to tense and shiver.

“Hmm?” You chuckle as you bring your hand up, using a finger to turn his head towards you. “What’s wrong? Something bothering you?” You bring yourself closer, noses barely touching, as you say in a hushed voice, “I thought you were gonna continue working?” As you observe, his eye twitches and his face becomes increasingly red from frustration and embarrassment. You slide your hand into the newfound opening you had made in his shirt, sliding it down to undo a few more buttons, your eyes following the path of your hand. Before you can fully get down to his stomach, you feel a firm hand wrap around your wrist. Looking back up at your boyfriend through your lashes; continuing to act innocent even if he doesn’t buy it anymore.

The novelist lets out a deep breath as he continues to watch you. The look in his hazel eyes is intense. He’s figured out the game you're playing and as much as he doesn’t want to let you win, he’s just as touch-starved as you. His frustration mixes with his bottled-up affection. He just wants you; wants to touch and tease you back. Ike pulls you closer by your captured wrist, wanting to kiss you.

Except he’s left you wanting for so long; you can’t just give him what he wants so easily. Tilting your head away slightly, his lips press against your cheek instead. When he pulls away, he’s met with your half-lidded expression. “Uh-uh, come on Ikey. Did you think I’d give you what you want after you’ve deprived me of what I’ve wanted for days?” With a breathy tone, you lean closer to his ear, “I know you’re frustrated, but whose fault is that?” With how close you are, you can hear the sound of his teeth clenching in vexation as your warm breath brushes against his ear.

He lets out a huff, and you chuckle as you pull away. Feeling quite pleased with yourself as you’ve successfully gotten him frustrated and aroused. Removing your wrist out of his hold, you grab his as you stand from your chair, pushing it aside as it’s completed its purpose. With a little shove, Ike’s desk chair easily rolls back as you make space to scoot in between him and his desk. Using your knees to knock his legs further apart to make room for yourself. Lifting a knee to place on the open space on his chair, right in between his thighs, you use your free hand to brace yourself on the back of the chair as you hover over him. “You can keep working, babe. But I think I should help with your growing problem down there.” You both simultaneously look at the ever-growing bulge in Ike’s pants and then back at each other. Ike’s gaze seemed to grow more intense behind his frames – but also a splash of excitement. “Plus, it’ll give me what I want, win-win.” You say with a smile.

Ike gives no resistance to what you��re implying, keeping still in your grasp. Only his piercing hazel eyes tell you everything you need to know. There’s a pause before he finally speaks, his tone deeper – almost exasperated – as he talks. “Fine. I’ll let you do what you want. But–" he gives you a sharp look "I am going to get you back for this. Expect a punishment following this; I won’t be going easy on you.” He feels your hands tremble a bit at the thought. However, you stay firm as you move closer to his face.

Lips grazing his as you speak, “Likewise.” You lean forward and finally connect your lips properly. Ike nearly catches you off guard with how quickly he pushes his tongue in your mouth. You're not complaining though, you want it just as much as he does. He leans his head forward, tongue swirling with yours as he tries to gain the upper hand on you; his glasses bumping against your face lightly. Opening your eyes, you pull back from his lips, his head jerking forward a bit from the sudden action. Your laugh is breathy. “Aww, so pent-up.” He pants as he looks up at you through his eyelashes, eyes conveying annoyance and unhidden lust. "Don’t worry, I’ll help you with that, but we’re gonna do it my way.”

The novelist raises an eyebrow at you, curious about what you have in store for him. Your hands separate from his wrist and he has to hold himself back from pulling you against him – knowing you’d stop if he was too rash. He feels your hand on his chest and he follows it as it trails down, continuing your earlier actions of unbuttoning his shirt as you make your way lower. Ike jolts a bit when you make it to the hem of his pants. The lust clouding his mind enhances his senses, causing your touch to feel like jolts of electricity throughout his body. He looks back up when he hears that infuriatingly teasing, yet alluring tone from you.

“Since you’re so adamant about working, I’ll let you do it. But, I’m going to take what I want from you…” trailing off with a breathy chuckle, you lean closer, lips nearly brushing his ear, “and what I want is your cock in my mouth.” Your voice is a low whisper, and you smirk as you feel him shiver from the vulgarity of your words.

Pulling back, you remove your knee from his chair, kneeling in front of him as you pull him closer by the armrest. He watches as you undo his belt and pants, hands, then gently pulling his half-hard cock out of his boxers. Licking your lips, you slowly start to pump him in your hand, looking up to watch his face scrunch in pleasure. “Mmm, already so close to being hard, that desperate for my lips, aren’t you?”

He scowls at you, composing himself before scooting in closer – startling you a bit. Ike reaches up to adjust his glasses, giving you a small smirk of his own, making it feel as though your stomach was doing flips. “How about you stop talking and get to work? You’re the one who seems eager for it, darling.” Ike wasn’t gonna let you humiliate him completely. He might be sexually frustrated right now, but he could still make you a mess. A precursor to the punishment he’s going to give you later. And quite frankly, you were looking forward to it.

With a huff, you get to work immediately. Building up the saliva in your mouth before spitting in your hand, pumping him with a firmer grip than before. Ike hisses in pleasure, yet is quick to straighten himself out as he consciously returns his attention to his work, continuing to type away at his novel. He lets out a few sighs, his breathing heavy as he works, biting at his lip to keep himself somewhat composed. ‘How the hell am I gonna concentrate with their hand on me like that–ugh, I won’t be able to hold back for very long.’

His little noises only pushed you to continue, enjoying being able to finally touch him, and soon, taste him. Your hand works meticulously and with practice ease, as you feel him grow harder, the wetness of your saliva helping your hand glide across him. When he is fully hard, you pull your hand away, using your other hand to push any hair out of your face before giving his cock a long lick from the base to the tip. Giving it a little kiss and giggling when you hear yet another sharp inhale of breath. Returning your hand to hold him as you lean forward to lick up and down his cock repeatedly, your hand massaging his tip; urging his pre-cum to leak out.

His cock throbs in your hand, feeling the wetness of the pre-cum cover your thumb as you rubbed the underside of his tip. Collecting it, you use it to lube his cock more, stroking it a few more times before you lean your head forward. Your lips give the tip of his cock another kiss before taking him into your mouth, letting your tongue swipe across it slowly.

Ike lets out a low grunt, his thighs twitching from the pleasurable strokes of your tongue. He risks taking a peek down at you; watching as you engulf half of him, feeling it slide down your throat. ‘Fuck, that feels good…’ Biting his lip, Ike’s fist clench on his desk, his breath shaky and voice getting caught in his throat from holding back his noises. His eyes follow your movements, watching you bob your head up and down, feeling your hands move to rest on his legs. The moans and sighs you were making against him weren’t helping, as he felt himself start to throb more into your mouth.

He's surprised when you suddenly lock eyes with him, a whine almost slipping past his lips when you suddenly pull off his cock. Smirking up at him with an intentional licking of your lips – his eyes tracking the movement. “What’s the matter? I thought you were working on your novel, babe?”

Ike lets out a guttural noise before looking back at his screen. His eyes quickly scan the contents before looking back down at you, seeming to contemplate his next move. The novelist weighs between two invisible options before letting out a deep breath, settling his intense lust-clouded hazel eyes on you. “To hell with it…” He sees your eyes widen as he scoots his chair away from the desk, your hands landing on the floor as they fall from his legs. “I can’t take it anymore–just, come on. Please, finish me off. Your mouth feels… exquisite.” His voice was demanding and breathy, and he watched as your expression grew just a bit more flustered; his lips twitching upward briefly in a smirk.

Swallowing hard, you collect yourself before looking up at him with half-lidded excitement. You leaned your body forward, crawling towards him as you held his burning gaze. When you get back in between his legs, your eyes glance down at his cock before looking back to him. “Don’t hold back, baby. I want all that cum in my mouth.” And with that, your mouth took him in again, bobbing your head with just as much vigor as before.

The office is filled with the sounds of both your moans; yours muffled and his quiet with a mix of lustful sighs. Ike watches intently as you suck him off, the wet sounds only driving him closer to the edge. He wanted more–no; he needed more. All he wanted right now was to cum in your mouth. To watch you swallow it slowly, tasting and milking all of him. He watched on, one of his hands tangled in his hair, pushing his bangs back to make sure he could take in the sight of you when an idea struck him. The novelist's free hand trailed its way down to rest on the top of your head, causing you to look up at him from your ministrations.

“Darling,” the pet name dripped from his lips like honey, “how about you take a bit more?” You were about to nod when you felt his hand slip to the back of your head. It took you a moment to register, but he was a bit quicker than your thoughts. “Here, let me help you…” Ike twists his fingers into a good portion of your hair before pulling at it to make you take more of his cock in your mouth. You let out a long moan as your eyelids flutter. This type of desperation from your boyfriend is rare; yet whenever it does happen, it never fails to make you feel heat flaring throughout your body. Your lips and tongue move faster against him, happily taking every inch as his moaning picks up in frequency. His glasses have started to fog around the edges thanks to the heat radiating off his breath. It took every last shred of will not to close his eyes from the immense pleasure.

You could feel his hips starting to softly buck into your mouth, and every time he’d pull your hair it would only spur you on to take more of him – causing you to deep throat his length. His moans were getting more unashamed as you made sure your mouth left no inch of him untouched; getting louder as he chased his orgasm. You feel saliva start to form more and drip down his cock, trying to keep up with his hips; tongue swirling around to give him more friction.

Ike’s heartbeat was heavy in his ears and he felt his whole body tense. He has to swallow hard to keep his voice from giving out as he moans. “Come on darling, so close. I’m almost there…” He reaches the other hand in his hair down to your head, both hands now firmly on your head. The sweat that had begun to form on his forehead, drips down the side of his face; a side effect of your current activity, filling the room with tangible heat.

You feel Ike pull your hair back, making you look him in the eyes; moaning in response to how hot he looked. Keeping eye contact with him, you feel him twitch even more in your mouth. Reaching down to rub in-between your legs to give yourself some relief, wanting to cum along with him; needing the sought-after friction since this began. His eyes widen a bit as he watches your hand frantically rub against yourself, then fully slipping beneath the hem of your clothes, causing him to bite his lip as he pushes your head into him deeper.

“Oh fuck, baby, I’m cumming! I’m– Ah! Come on… be good–hah–swallow it all..” Ike's eyes instinctively close as he cums, cock throbbing and feeling bliss as it all pours down your throat. His back arches in his chair from the pleasure before collapsing back down, sweat-coated chest heaving with his labored breaths.

It’s to the feeling of his warm cum filling your mouth that draws you to orgasm as well, body trembling as you try to keep your mouth closed around him to swallow; your own hand slowing to draw out the pleasure. Your eyes roll back as you drink him in slowly, free hand reaching up to softly massage his balls, wanting every last drop; Ike lets out a cute gasp as you do.

The novelist watches you with breathless wonder, feeling as though he could go again with how debauched you looked. So eager to drink down every drop of him. He swallows hard as you release him from your mouth only to start licking him clean, letting out a soft sigh when you finally pull your mouth away from his softening cock - but not without leaving one last kiss on it as you do. He leans his head back as he tries to steady his breathing, untangling his hands from your hair to wipe away the sweat from his face.

You chuckle as you watch him, slipping your hand out of your pants. As your eyes wander up his body to look up at his face, you wet your swollen lips, speaking up to tease him. “I’m glad I finally got your attention away from your book.” Your voice is somewhat raspy after the act you’d just done. “Maybe I should do this more often when you're overworking yourself, hmm?” You laugh as his head lifts to look at you, a pouty expression on his flushed face.

“You better not…” Hazel eyes squint at you.

“Hehe, well maybe you should learn to take proper breaks then, Ikey.” You stick your tongue out at him playfully and he huffs, defeated.

He shakes his head, a fond look in his eyes. “Fine, but only because you’re not asking. You’re honestly demanding me more than anything, sweetie…” You giggle and carefully stand up, legs a bit wobbly from sitting on them for so long. Ike notices this and scoots forward, grabbing your wrist gently to steady you. “Careful there, darling.”

Nodding in appreciation, you steady your stance, looking down to make sure you're not wobbling anymore. Meeting his eyes, you smile sweetly. “We should go get cleaned up. I’m insisting that we take a shower together, then I’ll leave you alone again so you can finish those last few pages.”

He lets go of you and nods in agreement, tucking himself back in his pants as he does. “Well, how could I refuse, dear? I’ll also give you cuddles and attention, like I said earlier after I’m done. You deserve it after my negligence.” Ike stands up and gives you one of his beautiful soft smiles, making your gaze soften.

“Well, I just hope you learned your lesson. Come on now, I’m sure you don’t like being sweaty either.” You walk happily towards the door, hearing your boyfriend’s footsteps follow behind you.

Just as you're about to leave the room, you feel his hand softly rest on your shoulder, before feeling his soft breath on your ear; his voice has an almost sinister tone as he whispers, “And since I’m recalling things,” a shiver racks through your body, “don’t think I forgot about your… punishment, that I mentioned earlier.” Your eyes widen as you tense and you’re about to look at him. However, he just continues moving past you, making his way to your shared bathroom.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Mod S 👿: Here I am fighting the Bottom!Ike agenda. Not that it’s shown too much here, but I really tried to mimic his kinda ‘assertive’ nature here (idk how to explain it). I was very heavily going off of how he acts in the Voice-packs and some character mannerisms he’s done on stream too. Anyway, first time writing Ike with smut, I hope I did okay!

───

Likes are nice and we do appreciate them. However, comments/feedback is what really motivates us to continue writing. Even just a keyboard smash or emojis are a joy to see!

We do not allow our stories to be translated or reposted/shared anywhere. The only places our stories should be found are on Ao3 or Tumblr. Nowhere else.

#ike eveland x reader #luxiem x reader #nijisanji x reader #ike eveland #nijisanji ike #luxiem #nijisanji luxiem #nijisanji en #nijisanji #x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #written by Mod S 👿

118 notes · View notes

moni-logues · 11 months

Text

Kintsugi 4

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 8.1k

Content: none! there is no content lmaooo nah there is just none that needs to be warned for, I don't think, so enjoy freely!!!!!

A/N: I know, I know, it's taken an age but here we are!! And I'm honestly kind of nervous to see how people react!!!! huge thank you to my betas @blog-name-idk @amethystwritesbts and @here2bbtstrash

Chapter Three | Masterlist | Chapter Five

Chapter Four – Someone Old, Someone New

The message came in shortly after lunch.

Mei.97: hey girl! Long time no see!!! I’m going to be in Seoul this week, pleeeeaaasse tell me you’re free for dinner tomorrow?!!? It’s been too long!!! Xxx

You had to read the message twice to be sure you were reading it right. You hadn’t heard from Mei—an old university friend—since your first ‘breakdown’. You wondered what on earth she could want. But you weren’t in any position to be turning down an outreached hand.

You: sure! It would be great to see you!

A few months ago, that would have been a huge lie. Now, it was only a little one. You weren’t looking forward to having to smooth over the details of your breakdown, or your break-up, but you had been close as students and it would be easier with her—she moved back to Busan after graduating, so you could put a little bit of the blame for your losing contact on that, too. You knew you weren’t quite there yet, but you felt like you were healing, you were making progress; you sometimes even felt, on occasion, pretty good about life. And you wanted to share that.

The first thing you heard upon walking into the bar you had suggested was the loud screech of your name. Then Mei was running over. You had barely even noticed her before she was wrapping her long arms around you in a huge hug. Her hair was as long and silky as it had ever been; she was still wearing the same perfume she always used to wear, and too much of it, as she always had; she looked almost exactly the same, except a little richer, a little chicer, like someone who had truly settled into themselves. She outshone the whole restaurant and looked as if she didn’t notice, as she always used to. The real world didn’t seem to have dimmed any of her at all. You were pleased with yourself that this didn’t make you completely sick with envy.

“Girl, oh my god, it is so good to see you! You look amazing! I can’t believe it; you’ve barely changed! Love the hair, though,” she announced to basically the whole bar.

You’d forgotten that she was possibly the only person in the world who was louder and talked more than you did. You’d forgotten how much you liked her. You had no need to be nervous, you realised, because it would never occur to her to judge someone; she just wasn’t that sort of person because she wouldn’t even have the time for it. She was more than just a rolling stone: this rolling stone had an engine and jet fuel.

“I ordered a bottle of wine because I wasn’t sure if you were still into the same drinks and I figured, wine is a safe option, right? You want some?” she asked but she was already pouring into your glass. “Tell me everything, babe. It has been so long. What is up?”

You took a deep breath. Where to start?

You marvelled at how painless the night had been. It was fun. Somehow, despite all the discussion you’d had about your life since university, your life now, it wasn’t painful. Not really. Mei was single, too, and courting every man in Busan before her parents tightened the screws on her to settle down. She was enjoying working for the family business (if a corporation can be called merely a ‘business’). She was earning a salary that made you wince and made her promise dinner was on her. You were doing reasonably well in your career, too, actually. You were earning enough to live in Seoul on your own. Things weren’t perfect, but Mei was such a positive and enthusiastic steam-roller that she made you feel like you were thriving, not wilting. She was exactly what you needed.

You were just wishing that she didn’t have to leave Seoul, that she could move and stay forever when she took her ice-cream spoon from her mouth and looked sheepishly at her empty bowl.

“I have a confession to make,” she began. “I had a teeny ulterior motive for asking you to dinner.”

Your stomach lurched.

“Oh?”

“You remember my cousin Sungbin? He came to visit that time at uni?”

“The one we had to carry back to your room?”

“You mean the one we had to find someone else to carry back to my room?”

“Yes!” You laughed. “Yes, I remember! How could I forget?”

He was a sweet, tall drink of water who accepted every shot and drink foisted on him by his cousin and her friends until he passed out in the bar. You and Mei had dragged him through the streets of Hongdae asking every passerby if they could help you get him home. You didn’t remember who actually helped or much of the rest of the night, but that arduous 100-meter drag was almost as painful as your hangover had been the following day.

“What about him?”

“Ok, so my uncle is retiring, right? He’s still going to be on the board but he’s retiring from his actual position so, of course, Sungbin, oldest son, he’s got to step up. He's moving to the big city, girl! Taking up a position at the HQ here. My ulterior motive is me asking you a huge favour.”

“What’s the favour?”

“He doesn’t know anyone here, right? Never lived here before. Would you maybe like, take him out for drinks or lunch or something – super casual, no big deal! – just so he’s got a friendly face? Give him some recommendations for stuff, I don’t know, just so he doesn’t feel overwhelmed and on his own?”

You didn’t really know how to feel about it. Of course, you would. Of course, you would be happy to take Sungbin out, show him around, help him if he needed. You felt flattered that Mei would even ask you, that she thought you would be up to the job. That she thought of you at all, to be honest. Had you not just been thinking that you needed new friends? And now one was landing straight in your lap.

It all felt a little too good to be true. It was too easy. Things had been too easy recently; this was just too much good, surely? You weren’t used to this. It felt wrong. Made you anxious. And, usually, that anxiety made you make things worse all on your own. But your therapist had told you to stop looking for the bad, to trust the good, appreciate its presence. You could do that. Right? You could do that.

“Yeah, sure! Of course, I can take him out.”

Mei dramatically fell to the table in relief and held tight to both your arms.

“You are an angel! Thank you! Here’s the bad part, though: any chance you can do it tomorrow? I’m leaving in the morning and he’s going to be on his own for the first time since moving-”

“Oh, he’s already here?”

“Yeah! That’s why I’m here, girly! I helped him move! Any chance you’re free tomorrow?”

You didn’t know how to say yes without letting her know that you were the sort of person who had no plans at the weekend but you didn’t want to say no because you were the sort of person who had no plans, and it would be nice to get out of the apartment. You did not look into the fact that she was asking you this last-minute, assuming you would have no plans already. You shrugged.

“Yeah, I can do drinks or something tomorrow night?”

“Babe, you are my favourite person in this whole world. I’m going to give you his number; just text him. He doesn’t know anyone here so he literally has nothing better to do and I’ve already told him I’d put you guys in touch.”

From anyone else, that might have prickled a little; the assumptions might have rubbed you the wrong way, but Mei was relentlessly optimistic, having never had any real hardship in her life (she would admit to this, too), so she had never had any reason to believe that things wouldn’t go the way she expected. Far from wanting to burst her bubble, you wanted to protect her naivety. Because you wished you could have it, too.

As you walked and subwayed and walked home, you thought about Mei and her life, and your life, and how different things could be. You wondered who you would be if you weren’t so broken, if your head could just have got its shit together—rather, if your head had never gone to shit in the first place. Would you have been like Mei? Would life have found another way to break you? Were things destined or was everyone, including the universe, just making things up as they went along?

Could you ever be like Mei? Was anyone like her? Did she have secret pain?

It wasn’t lost on you, the possibility that she wasn’t as happy-go-lucky as she seemed. The shock and surprise of everyone you knew when you ended up in hospital was almost the worst part. If you never heard someone say ‘I had no idea!’ again, it would be too soon. You thought about it a lot, how normal you were (or weren’t). You couldn’t believe that everyone else went through life not thinking the things you thought, that everyone else was somehow just able to get on with things without the sometimes-debilitating urge to sink into the floor forever.

You shook your head, because you knew you weren’t supposed to be thinking like this. You’d had a really fun time with an old friend and you were going to have a really fun time tomorrow with a new friend. That was all. There was no need to ruin it by overthinking and second-guessing.

You tapped a finger nervously on the bar as you sat on your stool. You used to come here a lot, or at least semi-frequently, but you hadn’t ventured into this part of the city since you moved out of the apartment you had shared with your ex. He got the apartment, so he got the neighbourhood, too.

You couldn’t really miss it, not on its own, because your life had changed dramatically after the break-up: you moved somewhere else, lost most of your friends, and stopped going out. This was really the only ‘out’ that you knew. And, crucially, it was close enough to Sungbin to become his neighbourhood, too. So here you were, tapping at the bar, staring at the door, trying not to gulp your drink and be drunk before he even arrived.

It was bright and hot and humid. It had rained solidly for three days and the water still hung in the air, clung to your skin, even as the sun tried its best to burn it away. You pressed your palm against your cold glass and tried to will yourself cooler without success. You already felt sticky with sweat and you didn’t know if that was entirely down to the weather, or if your nerves were also to blame.

You knew you didn’t have to be so nervous. What was the worst that could happen? Taehyung had, very patiently, talked you through it: all possible outcomes, all likely scenarios, best- and worst-case situations; he had reminded you that you were an adult human being who knew how to speak to other people. You did. You did know. But it had been a very long time since you had been in this situation. It wasn’t a date. Obviously, it wasn’t a date, but it was the closest you had got to one for many years; you were meeting a man, in a bar, alone. You didn’t know each other; you were hoping he would like you.

You took another gulp of your drink and repeated Taehyung’s words back to yourself. You reminded yourself of how good things were, ran through your gratitude list, tried to persuade yourself not to psych yourself out before the date (it was not a date! NOT. A. DATE.) had even begun.

You had turned from the door, realising how awkward it might be for you to have to stare at each other as he walked towards you and were now just glancing over your shoulder every single time you heard the door open. To stop it being awkward. You had done well to pace yourself and it was as you lifted your glass to your lips for another sip that you heard someone call your name. You turned and came face to face with a man you knew could not be Sungbin.

“Hi,” he said somewhat awkwardly as you continued to drink. “I don’t know if you remember me but I’m Mei’s cousin, Sungbin.”

You gasped as you drank and it all came out in a choke and a splutter and you were blushing and fumbling to put your glass down, find a napkin, rewind time by ten seconds. The napkin came from his hand and you took your time drying your face and hands to try to will your blushes away. You were so embarrassed you could barely look at him.

And there was so much of him to look at. This was not tiny, tall drink of water Sungbin from your university days. He was huge. He must have grown at least six inches taller, not to mention wider. His biceps were the size of thighs and his thighs were almost bursting out of his skinny jeans. You didn’t know where to look.

“You can’t be Sungbin!” you cried. “You’ve got to be the guy that ate him!”

He laughed and tugged at his hair a little self-consciously.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve grown a bit.”

“A bit! You’re... You’re a hulk!”

You were off your stool and gripping his bicep before he’d even finished the sentence—your fingertips didn’t even come close to touching. You were gawking, gaping, ogling this poor man without an attempt to hide it. You gestured broadly to his entire body with your other hand and only when you looked back up did you notice the blush on his face, the awkward way he averted his gaze. You stood back and gasped again, this time without choking.

“I’m so sorry,” you told him. “Oh my god, that was so rude of me. I’m so sorry! What a dickhead! This is a terrible first impression for me to be making!”

“Technically, not a first impression; we have met before.” He chuckled awkwardly. “And I didn’t exactly cover myself in glory then; I was, uh, a little worse for wear, I think.”

“A little?! We were worse for wear; you were... the worst for wear! I’m amazed you survived.”

“The joys of youth. Not sure I’d survive doing it now, just in case you had any ideas.”

“Mei and I could barely get you home then, there is no way on God’s green earth I’d be able to carry you home by myself now! I wouldn’t risk it.”

“So, we’re agreed then: both getting home in one piece?”

You lifted your glass.

“I’ll drink to that!”

You moved from one bar to the next, almost retracing steps you used to take in what felt like your former life. Sungbin paid great attention to where you were going and what else was around, cataloguing his new area, making notes for his new life. Your nerves were long gone, as were his, and you were enjoying a night out with a relative stranger as if you were a real person who did things like this: a real person who made new friends, who went out at the weekend, who had a proper life again. You had to pinch yourself to make sure this was all really happening, that this was all really going well. Your problems felt miles away, lightyears. You wondered if this is what it felt like to be normal. Whole. Fixed. You made a mental note to tell your therapist.

You were on a roof terrace, carpeted with fake grass, decorated with fake flowers. Everything was clean and bright and the sun was still high in the summer sky. It was still a little too warm and a little too sticky, your glasses sweating as well as your bodies, but the lightest of breezes lifted the ends of your hair every now and then, and you couldn’t have imagined a more comfortable feeling than the soft rush of wind across your hot skin. You took seats under a white, wooden pergola where the sunlight was dappled through the fronds twisted along the frame.

This heat usually enervated you, made you lethargic and sloth-like. That night, though, sitting under fake foliage, you felt solar-powered. There was a summer spring in your step. You felt, dare you believe it, like you were glowing. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. A brand new thing. A better thing. Being here, an old place, with Sungbin, a new friend, could have felt awkward, uncomfortable, like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole—you had expected it to—but no. You felt bigger and brighter, not smaller and duller. You were conscious of the possibility of your old life encroaching on your new one, the possibility of running into someone you used to know, but you decided to push those thoughts away. Compartmentalise them. Ignore them. You didn’t need them.

Sungbin was talking about his ex. It was an awkward break-up; they’d not been together long enough for her to move to Seoul with him, or for him to even ask her to, but it had been long enough that it felt significant, felt like throwing something away when they ended things. But he was young and he wasn’t worried. You didn’t say it out loud but you thought to yourself that a man like him surely would never have to worry: looking like he did, having the position he had, being a sweet, polite kind of guy; women would be queueing up for even a chance with him.

“I don’t really miss her that much, because there’s so much going on here that I haven’t really even had the time to. That, if nothing else, tells me it was the right decision for us.”

The words reached your ears but didn’t go in. You could feel your heart pounding hard in your chest and sweat begin to prick in your palms. Your eyes had flicked over the crowd in front of you, people walking in and out, to and from the bar, looking for tables, looking for friends. They had skimmed over the faces of strangers until they hit upon someone familiar. The face had immediately disappeared back into the crowd, but you were sure it was him. It had to be. Why else would your whole body have gone into panic mode? Why else would your legs be like jelly? Why else would your fingers feel numb? A quiet ringing grew louder in your ears and you kept looking for him again, waiting for that dark head above a white shirt to break through the crowd again. You had to be sure it was him.

“Are you ok?”

You wanted to stand. You had to stand and get a better view. You wished it weren’t so busy. Why did it have to be a Saturday night? Why were all these people out?

“Are you ok?”

A touch on your arm drew you back and your head span to Sungbin. He looked confused, concerned.

“I think I saw my ex,” you told him, your voice hoarse.

“Ah. A bad break-up?”

Your eyes had already gone back to the crowd, scanning and searching.

FUCK.

It was him. It really was him. It had to be. It couldn’t be.

“Yeah, no, I don’t know,” you answered vaguely.

You were still staring at him and then his eyes flicked to yours and you flinched so hard you almost knocked over your glass. You turned away, turned back; he looked as surprised as you were. He looked unsure. He looked like he was walking over to you.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you said under your breath, looking at the table, trying to work out how on earth you were going to handle this. You wondered, if you thought hard enough, if you would be able to make yourself disappear. You wondered if you could just run: leg it out of the bar as fast as you could and not look back. You felt dizzy. You felt sick. You felt... drunk. Too drunk. Of all the places and all the times you might have imagined seeing him again, this wasn’t one. This would probably be the very last place you’d have chosen to run into him.

Sungbin’s hand was back on your arm, less tentative now. He scooted his chair closer to yours. His hand slid down your wrist and he tangled his fingers in yours. You could only look at him; you didn’t have the mental capacity to even form the question in your mind.

“Don’t worry,” came his reply. “I got you.”

Then he winked.

“Hi.”

You looked up and there he was. San. Just as he always had been. Maybe his hair was a little shorter, you could kid yourself there was an extra line or two on his face. But it was him, no denying.

“Hi,” you squeaked back.

You were trying to think of all the things you wanted to say to him, trying to think of all the things you could say to him, that would be appropriate to say to him here, in this bar, whilst holding the hand of another man.

“Hi, I’m Sungbin.”

He was confident. He stuck out his free hand and gave San a generous smile.

“Oh, uh, San.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” San turned his face back to you. “How have you been?”

You looked at Sungbin for help: this relative stranger, this potential new friend pretending to be your new boyfriend in front of your old boyfriend, this man who seemed to have much better control of this situation than you did. You could barely think at all. It was a desperate ringing, alarm bells, sirens wailing, a maelstrom of panic. Sungbin smiled at you. You had no idea how long you looked at him before answering, had no sense of time anymore.

“Yeah, fine,” you said, eventually tearing your gaze from Sungbin to stare into San and the sun behind him. Sungbin gave your hand a squeeze. “Good, actually. You?”

“Yeah, same old same old, you know how things are. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Oh, that’s my fault.” Sungbin stepping in to save you again. “I live in the area so I’m always dragging her over this way.”

You stammered for a second, trying to take in San’s surprise and Sungbin’s sweet, encouraging smile.

“Y-yeah, he does,” you confirmed. “I don’t- I don’t mind, though, really.”

“Mm, you always liked this bar. I remember.”

“Yeah.”

You noticed the way San’s eyes flicked to your hands, clasped together on the table, not just once but again and again. You wished you could peer inside his head, know what he was thinking.

You were hardly thinking at all. Your brain was trying so hard to be quick that it had overloaded itself, stalled, got stuck. You couldn’t get over the fact of him, there, in front of you. It had been months. Seasons had changed since you saw him last. You had changed. Could he see that? Did you want him to? Did you want him to miss you? Did you want him to be bothered by Sungbin—gentle giant, Sungbin, holding your hand so casually, talking about you as if you really were together? You tried not to imagine what San was doing there, who he was with. You didn’t know if you would care. You wouldn’t be surprised to learn he was dating. He was a catch, you knew that.

There were too many things happening at once, too many things to process. You felt like you were spinning out of control. What if San knew Sungbin wasn’t your boyfriend? What if he knew this was all pretend? What if he asked more about it? What if everything unravelled before your very eyes and the ground didn’t show mercy and swallow you whole?

“Are you still living around here?” San asked you. “I would’ve expected to see you around more.”

“Oh, uh, no. I’m over the river. I just-…"

You couldn’t commit yourself to the lie, had to let yourself trail off just looking at Sungbin, desperate for a sign you were doing ok, you were playing this the right way. He grinned at you.

“Like I said, my fault.”

He shrugged with a light chuckle and San faintly followed suit, mouth moving but no sound actually coming out.

“Right, well,” he began in the tell-tale way that said he was backing out of this conversation. “I’d better get back to my table. It was uh, nice meeting you, Sungbin. Good to see you, too-” his eyes rested on you, needled into you like he was searching for something specific in your face. “I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“Yeah, me too. I mean, me for you, you know what I mean.”

A genuine smile. And a nod. Then he was retreating back into the sea of people, disappearing and leaving no trace. No trace but the hammering of your heart. No trace but the sweat pooling in your palms and sticking your dress to your back. No trace but the sudden exhaustion of the relief you felt being out of his presence. Sungbin squeezed your hand again.

“Bad break-up?”

You rested your forehead on the fingers of your free hand and shook your head.

“It was for me. It was the right decision but yeah, it was bad for me. I haven’t... I haven’t seen him since I moved the last of my shit out from our apartment – what used to be our apartment.”

Sungbin nodded knowingly and placed his hand on top of yours just for a second. Then he let you go completely.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I realise I didn’t really give you a chance to disagree; I’m sorry about that. I-”

You shook your head and waved your hand.

“It’s absolutely fine,” you reassured him. “It was good, actually.”

You were deeply grateful for his quick-thinking, presumptuous though it may have been. You wanted to splash your face with cold water, give yourself a shock, try to bring yourself back into the room. You didn’t want to look like you were still completely hung up on your ex; you didn’t want to look like a mess; you just needed a second to take a breath.

“That was... not expected,” you went on, more for your benefit than for his. “I have thought so many times about what I would say and what I would do if I saw him again but I guess I never really believed it would happen and then suddenly, he was fucking right in front of me and I just felt like dying!”

Sungbin laughed, as you knew he would, because it was a joke. It was a joke. But you didn’t not feel like dying for at least a second there.

“When did you break up?”

“Oh, months ago now. Kind of feels like I should be over it, I guess. I mean, I am, really. I just-...”

“You were caught off-guard. I get it; it’s rough seeing them again.”

It was rough. And you believed that he did get it. And he smiled at you so sincerely that you could have cried. It surprised you, that people could be nice to you; that people could like you, even; that people could see you and still smile at you. You looked at each other a little longer, Sungbin’s quiet calm radiating through you, your heartrate slowing and your spinning head coming to a stop.

“Thank you,” you said as you picked up your glass to take a sip to cover awkwardness that only you felt. “That was quick thinking and um, yeah, I think it helped. You didn’t have to do that.”

Sungbin shrugged.

“You’re doing me a big favour tonight; it was the least I could do. Happy to be your fake boyfriend whenever you need!”

He laughed and then you laughed and it felt good. You drained the last of your drink and Sungbin suggested you go somewhere else for your next one. You agreed. You didn’t look for San on your way out, just kept your eyes on Sungbin’s back as he led you, your hand in his (just in case), back through the bar and out onto the street.

“You don’t have to literally walk me to my door,” Sungbin said as you stepped into the lift with him. “I maintain that it should be me walking you home.”

You shrugged.

“That argument might hold water if you had even half a clue of how to get to my apartment. But you don’t. Besides, I was taking you out tonight; it only follows that I walk you back, too. Why break tradition?”

Sungbin bit back a grin.

“How long before I live that down?”

“Oh, at least five more years.”

“Well, if you’re going to make me suffer that, don’t you think we should do this correctly? Now, how did it go again?”

He moved behind you and draped himself over your shoulders, slowly leaning his weight onto you. You cried out and could do nothing but collapse underneath him.

“NO! I couldn’t carry you then; now you’re just trying to kill me!”

You knelt on the floor of the lift with your hands outstretched above you, as if they would in any way hold him off. He straightened and pulled you up by them.

“Fine,” he conceded as he stepped out at his floor. “But next time, you’re going to have to let me walk you home. Deal?”

You shrugged. You nodded. You didn’t take that as a promise.

“About your ex,” Sungbin started, standing in front of his door.

“Yeah?”

“Where exactly are you at with that?”

That had you on the backfoot. You didn’t know how to answer the question for yourself, let alone for him. Your first thought was that you probably would have to ask your therapist; did she think you were over it? Would she think you had closure? You blinked and opened your mouth as if somehow an answer would fall out of it without your having to compile it first.

“I just mean,” he continued, “are you dating? Would it be alright if I asked you out?”

“Oh, uh, I-”

Would it be alright? Wouldn’t it be? You had told yourself you were off dating. You weren’t ready for it; you had been emphatic when you’d said as much to Yoongi only a few weeks ago. Was that still true? You had spent so much time that day reminding yourself that this wasn’t a date, but... what if it had been? San aside, it had gone well, hadn’t it? You had had fun; Sungbin seemed like he had, too. He was the one who pretended to be your boyfriend first. Maybe... Maybe it would be ok? Maybe you were ready? There was only one way to really find out.

“Yeah, I guess that would be fine.”

He smiled.

“Good. I’ll do that then.”

He took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your knuckles; everything inside you fluttered. Then he winked and dropped your hand to enter his door code.

“Text me when you get home safe, yeah?”

You nodded, mute. He smiled at you again.

“It was really nice to see you again.” And when he said your name, it sounded new.

You didn’t leave immediately. Couldn’t. You stood outside his apartment, in shock, processing, looking at his closed front door, to the left, to the right, looking for an answer to what just happened. Sungbin did not just ask you out. But he did say he would. He was going to ask you out.

And you had already kind of said yes.

To a date.

You fumbled in your bag for your phone and had it to your ear before you realised you absolutely had to leave, lest Sungbin hear you speaking. You scuttled back down the hallway and into the lift while Taehyung’s phone rang and rang and eventually went to voicemail. You hung up and tried again. And then again. And then you sent him a text.

You: TEDDY!!! PICK UPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You tried calling for a fourth time and for a fourth time, you heard the automated voice of his voicemail service.

You threw your phone back into your bag, defeated, but jittery with nerves and adrenaline. You could barely remember how this felt. In fact, with San you had seen it coming. You had engineered it. You had been flirting for weeks; you practically demanded he ask you out. Then he did. This had come out of the blue. Blindsided you. For the second time that evening. You were so shocked by Sungbin’s question that you had, momentarily, forgotten about running into San.

What a fucking night. One that you had almost no idea how or where to start processing. Everything was-… you threw your hands in the air, by yourself, in the lift, shaking your head, completely bewildered. Taehyung was your go-to person for this. He was your sounding board. You picked up your phone to call him just one more time.

Your phone rang as you were changing into your pyjamas and you picked it up with your vest only half pulled down over your chest.

“Teddy! Finally!”

“Are you dying?”

“No.”

“Are you hurt or injured or maimed in any way?”

“No.”

“Then stop calling!”

“Hey! I need to talk to you!”

“Well, it’s going to have to wait, princess; I’m busy.”

“Not even for five minutes?”

“No.”

“But I saw San!”

There was a pause as Taehyung digested the information.

“Are you ok?” he asked simply.

“Yeah.”

“Then it’s going to have to wait until tomorrow.”

You heard a rustling in the background, another voice.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, turning your voice down to a loud stage whisper. “Are you with someone?”

“... Yes.”

“OH MY GOD! Oh my god, please tell me it’s the barista. Is it the barista? It is, right?!”

“... Yes.”

You squealed and fell onto your sofa to kick your feet in the air.

“WE HAVE SO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT!” you screamed down the phone.

“Yes, but tomorrow.”

“Yeah, fine, tomorrow. Oh my god. I am SO excited, Teddybear.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll talk to you later. I’m going now.”

“Bye, Teddy!”

“Good night, babe; love you.”

“Love you!”

It was entirely possible that you weren’t going to be able to sleep at all now.

You squealed as you opened your door and let Taehyung into your apartment. He handed over an ice-cold, sweating cup of coffee and flopped onto your sofa.

“Tell me literally everything,” you demanded.

He merely shrugged.

“Don’t be fucking coy, you piece of shit! I want to know everything! It’s THE BARISTA.”

The barista worked at a coffee shop not far from Taehyung’s apartment. The barista was a fine, delicate-boned, ethereal beauty, probably the prettiest person you had ever seen in real life. Even Taehyung—unflappable, cool, calm and collected Taehyung—had been flustered the first time the barista had flashed him his pearly whites. And, last night, something had finally happened between them.

“There’s really not that much to tell,” Taehyung countered. “I asked him out and he said yes.”

You hit him hard with a cushion.

“I said I want to know everything! And you can’t just say it like it was that simple; you’ve been daydreaming about that guy for months!”

“Firstly, I was sussing out his situation. I understand tact and diplomacy and how to not say every stupid thing that’s in my head at any given moment-”

“Uncalled for, but go on.”

“-So I had to bide my time.-”

“Also, you’re a massive chicken and he made you go knock-kneed and goo-goo-eyed.”

“-Do you want me to tell you what happened? Or would you prefer to just make up your own version?”

You cackled.

“You know I’d love to make up my own story, but no, sorry, I’ll stop interrup-”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, babygir-”

“Ok, now who’s interrupting?!”

“I’m the one trying to tell you a story!”

“Ok! Ok! Fine, spin your yarn and give me the entire confection, please.”

“I’m seeing him again tonight. Truth be told, I’d be with him right now if someone hadn’t already laid claim to my time.”

“Teddy!”

You felt bad for tearing him away from his One True Love, you did. But he’d already seen his success with the barista (Hyunjin to those in the know) and could go running right back to him as soon as he was done here. All you had was a too-warm apartment to stew in until whatever hour or day Sungbin would choose to actually, officially do the asking.

“Come on, then,” Taehyung said, with a shrug, and nudged you with his foot. “How the fuck did you see San again?”

Shit, that too.

“Right, well, you know I was out with Sungbin last night—and, by the way, do NOT let me forget to show you his instagram. Oh my god. There are no words. And there’s also something else I need to tell you about him after this. But, yes, San, ok.”

It felt like trying to describe a blur. You still didn’t know how you felt about it. The whole night felt surreal to you now, like a dream. It was frustrating to have met him but not really met him, to have seen him and not been able to talk. Everything that you had been working through—trying to work through—felt bundled up inside you and you wanted him to know. You didn’t need him to think you were dating again, you didn’t need to ‘win’; you needed him to know that you understood. That maybe there would always be some kind of thing between you—history, old intimacies like ink stains in your skin—but it didn’t mean that that past would hold you back forever. You wanted him to see that you understood that.

But you came to those conclusions this morning, after a deep sleep, after another man had made implicit promises to ask you out. And, once he’d actually asked you, would anything you had to say to San matter anymore? Did it really matter now?

“I don’t know how I feel about it because... I had this blind panic, y’know? But I don’t know why I panicked because San is a good person and I understand why he broke up with me and I don’t blame him for that and there really shouldn’t have been any reason for it to be awkward, right?”

“I mean, another man pretending to be your boyfriend might make it a little awkward.”

“Maybe... But that’s not Sungbin’s fault; he was trying to help. I thought I’d be cool seeing him again, because I’ve thought so much about things I want to say to him or would say if I could, but when he was actually in front of me, it was like I couldn’t think at all. I don’t know what that means.”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. You were surprised.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t I be over him? Should he have that effect on me even now?”

“I don’t think ‘should’ is a helpful word here, sugarplum. There is no should or shouldn’t about feelings; isn’t that therapy 101?”

“I just don’t know... I guess I thought that seeing him again would make everything crystal clear, written in stone. Sure. But... Well—ok, the other thing is that Sungbin kind of asked me out.”

“On a date?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you say?”

“Well, he asked me if it would be alright if he asked me out. And I said yes. So he said he would. But he hasn’t actually asked me yet.”

“And you want to know if you should go out with him or not?”

“I guess?”

You shrugged. You wanted to go out with Sungbin. You knew you wanted to because you could picture his smiling face and bulging biceps and you saw clearly, outside of the moment, how quickly and easily he stepped in to support you, no questions asked and no favours owed. He wanted to date you. You knew you wanted to date him. But-

“I don’t want it to be a mistake,” you said.

“That’s natural. No one likes making mistakes.”

“No, I mean, I don’t want it to be a mistake for Sungbin.”

“Why would it be?”

You looked at him, trying to say, without saying, what you meant. Because it had been for San—you had been. He was better off without you and maybe Sungbin would be, too. He was young and rich and free; he had just moved to the biggest city in the country; he had the world at his feet. Were you really going to let him limit himself, stop himself at your door?

Taehyung looked cross for a moment, lips pursed and eyebrows drawn, then he took a sip of his coffee (mostly iced water at this point) and, when he turned back to you, his gaze was softer.

“Baby,” he cooed and he held his arms out to you. Despite the heat in your poorly air-conditioned apartment, you climbed into his lap and let him stroke your hair. “There’s only one way to know for sure if something’s a mistake and that’s to do it. Sungbin clearly wants to. If you also want to, then you’re just going to have to dive in. The water’s great.”

You nodded and let him hold you, so grateful to him and all his tact and diplomacy and gentleness. He wasn’t always—or often—gentle with you, because usually that’s not what you needed and he knew it. Just like he knew that today, that was what you needed.

“I do have one question, though,” he said and his hesitance made your stomach drop.

“Ok.”

“Where does Yoongi fit in with all of this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t know; I thought you guys were-”

“-Friends! Just friends! Have I not said it a million times?! We’re just friends! We’ve always just been friends!”

“But you did have sex-”

“ONE TIME!”

You pushed away from him to better display your indignation and displeasure. Taehyung had a bee in his bonnet about Yoongi—had done since you’d first mentioned him—even though he didn’t know the guy, didn’t know anything.

“Ok, ok!” He held his hands up in defeat. “I just sort of figured you guys were heading in that direction.”

“Why?”

“You seem to like him a lot.”

“I do. Because we’re friends. I like you a lot, too, and we’re not going to shack up.”

“Yes, love, but I’m gay and you are not a man.”

You pushed him.

“You know what I mean!”

“I take your point. If you want to date Sungbin and feel good about it, then you have my blessing-”

“I don’t need your blessing, Teddy; I can do what I like!”

He fixed his eyes on you and simply waited you out.

“Ok, fine!” you cried, exasperated, after probably not more than five seconds. “Thank you, yes, I did want your approval.”

“And you have it, my sweet. As long as you’re happy and not being a complete idiot, I’m on board.”

“I mean... Thanks, I guess?”

"Don’t mention it.”

“Babe!” you cried as soon as Yoongi step foot inside the classroom the following Thursday. You beckoned him closer, telling him to hurry, and grabbed him by the arm as soon as he was within reach. “I have so much to tell you.”

He looked surprised, blinked, and then shrugged with a slight nod of his head. You didn’t pause for thought as you unloaded both your bags and your gossip onto the counter. You were sieving flour as you told him about your dinner with Mei; beating eggs into the mixture when you told him about drinks with Sungbin; and watching Yoongi almost drop the entire thing as he placed it in the oven when you mentioned San.

“What was that like?” he asked with genuine, but guarded, curiosity.

“A blur. Kind of a panicked mess but also fine. I sort of want a do-over but mostly for my pride, y’know? It was bumping into an ex, not actually meeting up with them so I think that made it better. But also worse because I had no time to prepare but there was also no opportunity to get into the difficult stuff which meant we didn’t have to get into it.”

“Do you still want to do that? Talk to him?”

“There’s a lot I want to say to him, but they are things I want to say more than things I think he would need or want to hear. If we met, it would be for my benefit and I don’t know if he deserves to be pulled in for that. Do you know what I mean?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment and nodded.

“And that was before Sungbin asked me out, too, so maybe I would be saying something different if that hadn’t happened.”

“He asked you out?”

Yoongi was turning towards his counter, looking at his sugar in his pan, turning on the hob, his head inclined just slightly towards you to indicate that he was listening. He needlessly pushed a hand through his hair which, far from tucking it behind his ear, made it fall in front of his face. You were, likewise, distracted by your sugar syrup and altogether too excited to take note of much else.

“Yes!” you cried in answer. “So, on the Saturday he asked if he could and, obviously, I said yes. Then it took him until Wednesday to actually do the damn thing, but yes, he asked me out and I said yes and we’re going out tomorrow for our first actual date.”

“Wow.”

“I know, right? I had no idea it was coming—the bit where he asked if he could ask me out, I mean. We ran into my ex at drinks! And he asked me out?! And I was... I was discombobulated, you might say; I stood at his door for five minutes just in shock at what had happened. I was in disbelief. Especially because I wasn’t expecting it! At all. I mean, I was just doing Mei a favour! I didn’t think anything of it and now I can’t stop thinking about it! Or, well, him. I had forgotten how exciting this part is? It’s terrifying, yeah, completely horrifying, really, but I also just feel like I’m alive, y’know?”

You paused briefly, glancing at the oven timer and stirring your syrup.

“I just...” you started and then stopped, staring off into space to let the thought coalesce in your brain. “It’s so crazy that you can think one thing and then someone comes into your life and, suddenly, everything is so different. All it takes is one person to—ok, this is dramatic but you know me now so you’re going to have to let me be—change your whole life. A chance encounter? And suddenly I’m not the world’s loneliest, bitterest, most miserable single person alive? Suddenly, I have something to be excited about? To look forward to? I’m getting ahead of myself, I know I am, but I’m allowing it. I’m allowed to indulge in this because it’s been so long. I’ve been miserable for ages now. And I’m finally not. Don’t get me wrong when I say this, because therapy works, or at least it helps, it really does, but man, having a crush on someone is fucking electric, right? Years of counselling and it turns out nothing makes you feel the joy of being alive like when you really fucking like someone.”

Yoongi hummed.

Chapter Three | Masterlist | Chapter Five

#yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi fic #bts fic #yoongi angst #bts angst #suga x reader

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preet-01 · 2 months

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*in Oliver Twist voice* may I please have more of the maxiel political au?

You have me obsessed bestie

Of course you can bestie!!! Here is some married Maxiel discussing why Daniel agreed to the arranged marriage set in early 2026. This specific scene won't be in the fic because there's a different version of it with Daniel and Joe that explores their relationship and the weight of the family name.

First Meeting and Iowa Campaign Trail

Max doesn’t dare to say he fully understands Daniel. He understands bits and pieces of him, but not the entirety of him.

It is, of course, very annoying. He likes to know everything.

But he deals with it. Slowly learning about the new parts of Daniel and burrowing it deep in his mind where all of his Daniel facts live.

Like Daniel loves his career, lives for it, but yet he’s willing to give it up and marry Max just when talks of Daniel being a future Attorney General start.

“Why marry me?” Max asks one night. It’s much too late to change anything, they’ve been married for over a year now and everything is gearing up for his presidential run announcement. But Max remains curious about Daniel tying himself to Max and not continuing down the career path that his mother had expected of him.

Grace Ricciardo had been utterly shocked, but still supportive when Daniel introduced Max to them as his fiancé. Joe Ricciardo hadn’t been shocked, no the former governor had almost seemed apologetic to Daniel. So Max really did not understand the Ricciardos as a whole. At least Daniel's sister had just been very straightforward in her threats. Michelle Ricciardo, Max thinks, is the scariest of the four Ricciardos he'd met.

“A little late for that now, Maxy,” Daniel says. His brown eyes are focused on some case file that he’ll probably argue in front of the Supreme Court. Max doesn't understand why Daniel would be willing to leave something he loves so much to be the First Man. He doesn't understand how Daniel would be willing to leave behind arguing constitutional rights and wording at the highest court to just pick china patterns or Christmas decorations. He doesn't understand why Daniel would want to leave a challenging career where he can make a mark on history to just be a footnote in Max's career, a pretty bauble that the American public will look at.

Max’s own work is long forgotten as he takes in Daniel. So focused on what he needs to do despite it being the first day of a long weekend.

"You could be Attorney General," Max continues on. He'd read Sebastian's file on Daniel and done his own research. Daniel was more than qualified, certainly more qualified than the previous five Attorney Generals.

"You're a Senator, Max. Don't be so naive," Daniel retorts.

"How does my job-"

"Have you ever wondered why Seb manages campaigns instead of running his own?" Daniel cuts him off. The file is on the table and forgotten as Daniel turns to look at Max. "Or why Fernando Alonso-Webber has never become President despite his many, many attempts and strong qualifications?"

Max hadn't ever thought of that. He didn't need to...

"The Senate will never approve me for the Attorney General position. Doesn't matter how many cases I argue in front of the Supreme Court or how widely renowned I become as a lawyer," Daniel sighs. "We're not as progressive in this country as you may want. The Senate is not going to elect a male carrier as the Attorney General. And the majority of the country is not going to elect a carrier as President. Hell, only three carriers, male and female, have gotten the party nom. Just because I can birth a baby, they'll say that I'm not competent enough. That I won't be able to focus on the job, that I won't be tough when needed."

"Things aren't like they used to be," Max tries to argue, but he knows the numbers of carriers are low in both chambers of Congress, even fewer in the Cabinet despite President Hamilton's many attempts at changing it.

"I came to terms with it a long time ago, Maxy, just like Seb did. And there's more to being the First Man than just china patterns and looking pretty. Though I will excel at those," Daniel tells him.

"It shouldn't be like that," he states. It's wrong how in the past the country remains. His chances of winning were low due to being unmarried, and Daniel's chances of going further in his career were even lower due to being a carrier. His ability to birth children shouldn't impact his career.

"It won't be like this forever, eventually things will change. And I hope that it happens during your presidency," Daniel says. There's a sparkle in his brown eyes that hadn't been there before.

"I'm not elected yet, and might not ever be." Max knows that so far they've gone about things with the assumption that come November 2028, Max would be President-Elect. But things don't always pan out and there is a good chance that Max won't win.

"I wouldn't have married you, Maxy, if I had any doubts about your chances at the Presidency."

He doesn't understand all of Daniel, but he does understand bits and pieces and he's willing to learn every little idiosyncrasy that makes up Daniel.

___

I am loving all the discussion about this au and writing this has been so much fun!!!!

#answered #maxiel #political au #daniel ricciardo x max verstappen

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ego-meliorem-esse · 2 months

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Along with the idea that several nations should be older (India, Egypt, china, and even Arthur and all Nordics) I am an avid promoter that the USA and some others should be younger like teens. It would make so much more sense and imagine the kid holding up the power and the older ones unable to do anything BC it's a kid what do you expect??? Remember when *insert nation* broke havoc just because he likes something and was an infant? (America steaming in the background that he's old enough!)

Ill let you cook anon.

And if by some grand evil miracle the nations of today were personified, i think you might be on the right path with this one.

But

I just put these nations (specifically the younger ones like US, CAN, NZ, AUS) in situations where no adult, let alone a teen should be in. The problem for me with making these young nations teens is that i don’t have that retrospective narrative of how things have progressed in their lives. For instance, Alfred was a young teen during the revolution and had different viewpoints and goals and ideas than he does now. He is still young but has a developed enough brain to grasp the reigns of power with confidence. He needed time to learn that, and now that he is a young adult he can understand things he just couldnt when he was a child. Same for Matt. A child who grew up forgotten and called an inconvenience, grew up into a reserved young man with empire/daddy issues who took care of his younger siblings (jack and zee who werent really his siblings), just because he can’t imagine them experiencing what he did as a child. And all of that because he grew up and became a young adult with a story to tell.

I section these lads lives out into seperate parts: the birth, truma times - aka childhood, the Big change (Matt with meeting his brother and living under Arthurs roof and Alfred finding himself in the revolution and enlightenment), Breeching (development of self throughout history), Now and Future. I just really need that distinction of where they were to where they are now. And yes it would make more logical sense if they were teenagers and younger, but its just less fun for me. It doesnt let me tell the stories and narratives i wanna tell. Its kinda limitign i think.

The most simple reason would be it’s just easier and more fun. :))))

#answer didnt need to be long but i am passionate #but you are right #hetalia #ask meli #hws america #hws canada #meli speaks #historical hetalia #my headcanons

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shituationist · 4 months

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the drexler-smalley debate on nanotechnology is interesting to me. it's also interesting that it's largely forgotten. young people today are mostly unaware of what kind of hype nanotechnology had going for it in the early 2000s, which has now all but died down. there was a point where singularitarians were worried about the possibility of "grey goo" taking over the earth before "AGI" did. nowadays it's rare to hear them talk about nanotechnology at all.

drexler was the nanotechnology hype man. to a lesser degree, so was smalley. both believed in the potential for nanotechnology to address human problems, but drexler was the "grey goo" guy who believed in nano-scale mechanical synthesis of arbitrary molecular compounds. smalley on the other hand viewed nanotechnology as essentially a specialized branch of chemistry, and believed that nanotechnology would have to - to put it bluntly - obey the laws of nature that govern normal chemical synthesis.

smalley's contribution was criticized for relying on metaphor, but this isn't really the case. smalley tries to get drexler to step away from science fiction and towards how chemical interactions really work. drexler's case is more defensive and much weaker than his own advocates let on. smalley argues that if you want to do chemical synthesis, you can't break physical laws to do it. he tries to demonstrate why hypothetical nano-scale mechanical "fingers" would fail to synthesize chemicals in the desired fashion, limiting what kinds of materials can be fabricated.

drexler rejects that hypothetical machinery and then shifts the terms of the debate back to relatively ordinary bio-chemistry. both mention ribosomes, which produce enzymes, as prototypical "molecular assemblers". smalley is pleased by their convergence on this point. he tries to drive home his point further about the limitations of what hypothetical engineered ribosomes could produce, and how the vision of self-assembling nanobots is unrealistic given the way natural "molecular assemblers" really work. but drexler shifts the focus again back to the mechano-synthesis of his dreams/nightmares, envisioning molecular assemblers as a nano-scale factory floor complete with conveyor belts and a kind of mechanical smushing together of molecules, analogous to macro-level manufacturing processes.

smalley wasn't having it. his concluding letter begins with: "I see you have now walked out of the room where I had led you to talk about real chemistry, and you are now back in your mechanical world. I am sorry we have ended up like this. For a moment I thought we were making progress." you can hear the disappointment in his tone.

and it got worse: "You are still in a pretend world where atoms go where you want because your computer program directs them to go there. You assume there is a way a robotic manipulator arm can do that in a vacuum, and somehow we will work out a way to have this whole thing actually be able to make another copy of itself. I have given you reasons why such an assembler cannot be built, and will not operate, using the principles you suggest. I consider that your failure to provide a working strategy indicates that you implicitly concur--even as you explicitly deny--that the idea cannot work."

smalley then goes on to talk about how drexler's idea of "grey goo" has scared children who are interested in science and how he should be ashamed of himself. at that point he's just rubbing it in. but the debate ends there, too. smalley dies a few years later. drexler, for his part, seems to have given up on the "grey goo" idea when the funding for nanotechnology research started to dry up. he's an "AI" risk guy nowadays, collecting consulting fees for "AI safety" types of things. in retrospect, it seems like smalley was right. the direction of nanotechnology research went towards practical chemistry inspired by ribosomes and enzymes and limited by the physical qualities of those systems, the kinds of limitations smalley describes. drexler's "self-assembling nanobots" are nowadays regarded as a kind of science fiction by eminent researchers in the field. smalley's key points, that there are limitations to what biological "molecular assemblers" can produce and the constraints on how they can be produced, have withstood a couple decades of scientific research.

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barbika1508 · 7 months

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Sand, sand everywhere (Moon boys x Reader)

Word Count: 6,7 k Genre: Adventure, Fantasy, Romance Pairing; Moon boys x Reader! Demigod

Summary: A magnet for trouble, is what all of them think of themselves as. Which isn’t far from the truth. It’s what brough them together in the first place. This time around though it leaves them tumbling through the dessert, survival the priority along with definitely a suspicious side-track quest option to explore.

/ Masterlist 2023 /

‘’Sand…fuck off.’’

Nothing changes. The sun remains glaring, scorching on my skin, not a whiff of a breeze the air still and stuffy, our surroundings the same. Sand everywhere. Above us a clear blue cruel sky, no clouds in sight. This is literally one of my nightmares from when I was a kid; how does one survive in the desert?

With half a water bottle at that, and two adult people intent on surviving for more than a day. Okay not to be too dramatic we've been walking for what feels like days, when in reality, we have been stuck in the sun in the middle of nowhere for a few hours. It's quite the change from dreary grey but right now dreamy London. Oh, how I miss the rain. I swear I will never ever again in my life complain about the rain.

‘’Isn’t there a saying, fight fire with fire?’’ I speak up breaking the silence again, ignoring the drips of sweat going down the sides of my face, the scarf I wrapped around my head a blessing and curse. I’ve had a white bombard jacket on me that got destroyed by a random dude who managed to grab me, Marc not far behind punching the fucker off me, the victim being my jacket.

I look at Marc’s back, the man wearing a white hoodie of all things, with camo pants and military boots. Always ready for everything. Meanwhile I’m left in my own to tightly tied boots, regular brown pants and a black t-shirt drenched of course, like I mentioned before in sweat, jacket destroyed and forgotten.

I wasn’t even supposed to tag along. The plan was to scoop out Helwan, a city part of Great Cairo. Mainly to avoid the tourist traps which weren’t our intent either way. Avoid the pyramids is the moto of the trip!

And by moto, I mean my moto. Not being a fan of enclosed spaces - which I can deal with don’t get me wrong - it's just not my personal favourite to crawl around in someone’s tomb. Plus, mummified, mummification all that…

I shake my head and shimmy my shoulders giving a small glare towards the man ahead of me. Thank you so much Steven for your endless depth in knowledge and explanation of mummification rituals and booby trap in tombs leaving me with nightmares on occasions. Bloody brilliant as he would say.

‘’Huh?’’ he finally responds, taking a sudden stop, enabling me to reach him my legs feeling heavier the more we make progress.

‘’Fire with fire.’’ I repeat looking at him nonchalantly, hands on my hips as I glance to the map he’s holding, and compass. Marc doesn’t even look at me, frown which is permanent to his ever-resting face deepening as he looks around. I don’t bother following his look, having noticed he has brought us exactly where one who is getting tired doesn't want to be. A giant hole with mountains of sand surrounding us on all sides.

‘’Do you think I can combine my fire with the heat? As in two elements clashing?’’ I ramble the heat getting to my head somewhat, my concentration, alertness and survival instincts having left a while back thanks to the unbearable climate. To prove my point, I raise my left hand rubbing my thumb with the rest of my fingers together, fire lighting up over my fingertips. It feels cooler sitting atop of my skin even as I spread my palm and let it dance in the middle of my hand.

‘’Ah watch the map, sweetheart.’’ Marc moves the said map away as if I was intentionally going to burn it ‘’And no I don’t think that will work. At least with your train of thoughts.’’

He pauses looking at my hand and up at me, gauging my expression half rising an eyebrow in question ‘’Not working.’’ I confirm bringing both hands together brushing them along, the flame disappearing leaving no trace behind.

‘’Save your energy, baby. Night won’t come in a few hours we still have a trek ahead of us.’’ only his voice softens as he speaks, his hard stoic look deepening as he turns to the map, looking around us as if something new is going to miraculously pop up any moment.

‘’Think positive, thoughts, positive thoughts.’’ I sigh trying not to get irritated ‘’Okay. Why don’t we just stop for a moment…’’ he continues to shuffle the map turning it sideways for some reason ‘’...and regroup because this isn’t going anywhere.’’

‘’We’re fine. I got this.’’ Short and direct Marc takes a step away but halts again.

‘’Aha.’’ I cross my arms watching him, turning towards me glancing uphill of the sand dune, then towards the sky squinting ‘’Why don’t you ask Stev…’’

‘’No, I’ve got it.’’ He's quick to stop me with a look too ‘’I may look lost, but I have a plan and I’m getting us out of here. I don’t break my promises.’’

He’s taking this seriously I mean as he should, but the bravado won’t help us if he gets us lost further even if it’s by accident ‘’I never even thought about you breaking any promises, love.’’ I'm still keeping my cool ‘’Just to share your burdens with me, remember? I might have never been in a desert like you Mr. Mercenary but I’m resourceful too need I remind you?’’

I quirk an eyebrow keeping serious, ignoring the skip of my heart thanks to the smirk he offers keeping his eyes on me, only after a few moments hinting at the map ‘’Oh I’m well aware of your resourcefulness baby.’’’ he muses ‘’I remember well. But like you’ve said I’ve been through this; I’m getting you out.’’

‘’Macho man to the rescue.’’ I grumble letting my arms drop taking half a step back to eye the dune ‘’I say we climb this to find an easier path to take than just, descending and climbing so much.’’

‘’Just wait.’’ he stops me, turning away again ‘’Why would we climb up a dune if our direction is the complete opposite one.’’

‘’To be honest babe, our direction doesn’t look like it’s too clear to you right now. Is the compass broken?’’

‘’The compass is not broken, why would…’’ he takes a deep breath trying to contain his own frustrations, eyes settling on me but softening as he turns sideways ‘’We’re headed west.’’

‘’Huh??’’ I immediately make a noise in question.

‘’They will be expecting us in the first town we get into.’’ he explains ‘’How many were after us, they have connections. So, we head west towards the sea. The Nile is way behind us. Towns in west are closer than the ones in North.’’

‘’Southwest.’’ I blur out Marc blinking at me in question as I try to remember the map of New Cairo, I took from our hotel lobby out of curiosity ‘’We don’t risk the chance of reaching Suez. I’m sure they will wait for us there too. So Southwest.’’

He stares at me unmoving for a solid moment ‘’Is your geography broken? Are you getting over heated?’’

Placing a hand on my hip I give him full attitude his double take making him hesitate in approaching me ‘’I don’t think you want to fall into argument with me about geography Mr. Spector.’’ I have jabs ready to send his way but refrain from doing so ‘’I’ll give you space to find the way in either case so I’m going this way.’’

Faster than him I reach the dune in two steps stubborn to climb it, even if I can hear him hot on my heel the map rustling ‘’Baby, don’t…’’ he calls after more rustling heard ‘’I didn’t mean to snap, I’m sorry. The heat isn’t helping, please don’t rush.’’

It’s easy to spiral into the flurry of emotions that are intensified by the heat which brings irritation into the mix, anger and frustration not too far behind. Its why I desperately want to keep calm and collected, trusting the man with my life after all with no complaints so far. And what do I get in return ‘’...a moody boyfriend, who wants to be the hero. Marine my ass, we’re in the dessert not the middle of the ocean, gods…’’ I continue grumbling under my breath the dance of trying to keep my balance beginning as the sand under me gives in, making me trip and almost fall the higher I go.

‘’I can hear your kind words, sweetheart.’’ Marc calls out a tinge of amusement in his voice.

‘’Uh huh, anytime hot shot.’’ I snip back, getting irritated by each stumble, landing on my hands every time, knees digging into the sand preventing me from rolling backwards or sideways ‘’Seriously thought, why pyramids, why the desert? Why didn’t we stop in Kefalonia and then side-tracked here? No, that old pigeon had to make it a priority of life and death, didn’t he?’’

‘’Careful, Y/N.’’ he warns as I stumble again.

‘’We just dove right into trouble didn’t we, head first! We are magnets for danger and bad things to happen…ahhh fuckl!! I end up flinching at something black in the corner of my eye, making an appearance. It stands out from the beige hues of the sand the creature turning out to be a scorpion.

‘’You okay babe?’’ Marc calls pausing as have I in our climb.

‘’Yeah, yeah just a scorpion it’s all.’’ I breathe out bringing fire to my left hand the flame bigger this time, slowly reaching towards the creature. My idea works out as the poisonous bugger turns away from danger. Making a grimace I keep my hand on fire even as I take a step higher the small creature not really running away just putting distance from us.

‘’Whatever you do, don’t let it sting you alright?’’

I roll my eyes patience disappearing like water dripping through fingertips, the heat and, dryness of my mouth starting to get to me ‘’Thank you for the warning, Captain Obvious.’’ I snap before I can stop myself, cursing under my breath harshly as another scorpion makes an appearance closer to where I rest my other hand, the fucker wiggling from underneath the sand. Bringing my flame closer in hopes of scaring the creature away it barely moves.

‘’Sorry for trying to look out for you…’’ Marc doesn’t sound too pleased gearing up for a tangent, which is another clear sign the heat is getting to him as well. His voice drifts to the back of my mind as I attempt to step higher placing both hands on the sand to steady myself, ending up bamboozled as a third scorpions makes an appearance the bugger jumping onto my right hand, the touch of its tiny feet or whatever immediately making me straighten up, and wildly swing my arm away thankfully the scorpion flying away as panic raises up my throat, and chest ‘’...not that you listen to me, being stubborn as you are…’’

Unaware of what’s happening Marc's voice continues to rant onwards getting his emotions out at least. My attention shifts onto the shifting of the sand which is not my doing as I’ve buried my knees into it, watching in horror as at first black dots make appearances, not stopping even as the scorpions peek out their tails following.

‘’AH FUCK, NOPE NOPE MARC RUN!’’ I end up totally and completely freaking out not waiting for them to get the chance to crawl closer, as I let my fear even if it’s irrational crawl from my chest and up my arms the mere thought of another tiny beastie touching me sending me into a different type of spiral where I want to cover myself in gasoline and burn myself alive.

Given my predicament, as I shout, I turn around jumping eagerly but carelessly away from the sand landing harshly on my ass, the momentum sending me sliding down towards Marc that watches in confusion, eyes squinting mouth opening to question me.

‘’What are…’’

‘’Run, run, nope, nope.’’ I rush reaching him in no time focused on watching where I’m going to land as I pick myself onto unsteady feet making progress downwards much faster than upwards, barely seeing Marc’s surprise as he sees and realizes what’s happening as I grab his arm fire retreating so I don’t burn him in the process of holding and dragging him with me.

The next few moments pass like a blur as panic fuels me, not even giving me the chance to breathe as we reach the bottom and end up running burning feet and muscles up the other dune. Not even arguing I push my boyfriend in front of me releasing the fire as if I’m a flame thrower towards the oncoming scorpions that cover the entirety of the sand behind us, death staring at our faces.

The little death bringers hiss as they get burned alive, but the others proceed to climb over their dead kin to get us. The feat of the climb would leave us breathless and whipped in normal circumstances – which these are obviously not. Reaching the top Marc unceremoniously grabs me by the back of my shirt, pulling me into himself as I retreat my flames drenched in sweat, and ongoing terror.

We are not given the time to recollect our thoughts or bearings as the world is spinning before my eyes, body hitting the ground again. I’m not sure if he pulls me with him or I pull him, but my eyes close shut as well as my mouth the tumbling and rolling down another dune unstoppable. Picking up speeding I get battered and heavily caked in sand disorientation akin to jumping into the ocean in the middle of the night.

Panic raises as I let out a muffled shout through my closed mouth, something grabbing my arm shadow passing above me resulting in something – someone - landing on me halfway squeezing air from my lungs. Giving into fate as I’ve got nothing better to do, or any other choice the fall ends after what feels like an intense few solid moments.

I expect fully to be tossed and pulled by gravity onto my face. My left knee first hits the sandy ground, body following, I end up hitting my head and crushing with upper body onto something solid, that’s definitely not sand, my hands catching me rather poorly digging into the hot sand.

Opening my eyes, I’m faced with a coughing Marc as he groans, face twisting in pain thanks to the impact he sustained with catching me his attempt at shielding me squeezing my heart when the realization hits me.

‘’Ah damn babe.’’ I rush breathless myself making quick work of getting off him straddling him over the stomach and with shaky hands brushing away sand from his handsome face as he lies with his eyes closed catching his breath ‘’Sorry my love and thank you for that.’’ I rush to say giving him a once over, his clothing lacking any and all colour of blood.

Before I can pepper the man in kisses as thanks, I turn around out of instinct ready for any kind of threat, the scorpions still freaking me out. I’m met with the dune and no sign of danger, the little beasties gone. So, while Marc regains his bearings I check where we landed, noticing a few raised mounds of sand still surrounding us. We’ve landed deeper than we were before, the dune behind us providing some form of shade.

‘’Don’t mention it.’’ Marc groans out squinting as the sun is shining directly into his eyes, prompting me to move and block it as I run my fingers through his slicked hair, and over his head making sure he isn’t injured ‘’Are you an angel?’’

The question has me looking at him pointedly his smile a dead giveaway that he is fucking with me. So, I mildly-lightly punch him on the chest proceeding to climb onto my feet ‘’Ouch. A rough angel.’’ he grumbles as I begin to brush sand that has once more made its way everywhere in my hair and clothes and other places.

‘’You love it.’’ I snicker offering him my hand. He glances from it to my face contemplating ‘’Awww babe you don’t trust me?’’ I joke watching as the man gets serious and grabs onto my forearm. With a literal skip as he pulls me forward for what I was ready he stands up in front of me, both hands settling over my hips, pulling me into him.

‘’Undoubtedly.’’

It always gives me almost a whiplash how quick he can change emotions. How he turns teasing into another level of seriousness and deepness. Guilt tugs at my heart as it’s his turn to touch and make sure I’m alright, ending up cupping my cheek meeting my gaze.

‘’I know love.’’ I offer a smile ‘’I trust you. With my life.’’ I reassure him, as he rests his forehead against my own, holding onto me, as I have my arms wrapped around his neck, even though I am standing on my toes Marc being taller than me. It never posed a problem, he’s always eager to bend down to get kisses. Mr Grumpy is in fact Mr Soft and needy for kisses - but don’t tell anyone that.

That’s until I run my tongue over my teeth, prompting me to run it up and down frown making an appearance as saliva gathers in my mouth.

‘’So, the West is not an option anymore.’’ Marc begins shifting, one hand finding mine as he takes half a step back looking around then upwards to the sky checking the sun and the tops of the dunes. Maybe Khonsu is making an appearance, the god of the moon making his disappearing act rather lengthy.

‘’Maybe we really should wait for the night. Then we can…you, okay?’’

I nod immediately, giving him a thumbs up by letting go of his hand as I turn my back to him taking a few steps away, spitting rather clumsily in my opinion bending down as a result as I try to spit out more of the sand that has gotten in my mouth.

‘’Gross.’’ He mumbles to which I hum in agreement turning around once I deem myself presentable feeling legit happy that Marc is turned away his attention focused on something directly ahead of him. Narrowing my eyes, I wipe my mouth as I step back to him, not even catching up as he out of the blue bolts forward in a rush, breaking into a run towards a smaller stack of sand.

‘’I wasn’t that disgusting, we all spit.’’ I complain, pouting, ready to sit down and wait for the night. Sitting or lying down whatever, just not moving is my goal. I am dehydrated, I am tired, and I’ve had enough life-death experiences to last me a while.

‘’Y/N!’’ Marc shouts rather excitedly and louder than I’ve heard him in a while. With teases and more complaints and whines dying on the tip of my tongue I speed my step approaching my boyfriend as he begins digging. Put of all the things that we could and most importantly should do.

I’ve learned a while back not to question the things my boyfriends tend to do anymore. There’s always a perfectly logical explanation to their actions, even if they look insane doing them. I watched silently as Marc switches his digging position pushing the sand away like a madman, making me rethink of a head injury - he might have a concussion, he did catch me and fell over hard.

Just as I’m about to question and stop him, the sand gives in Marc still digging to reveal stone. Flabbergasted as I look at our surroundings then back to the stone I drop down next to him following blindly uncovering a structure out of all things. The very peak of it.

‘’This is crazy.’’ I find myself stating in awe, quickly realizing we’ve stumbled onto a pyramid.

‘’Insanity.’’ My boyfriend laughs, stopping soon getting tired, dots of sweat littering his forehead, chest rising and falling visibly as he settles his hands on his hips, as I continue pushing the sand away having done it with not as much as rush as he did.

‘’Do you think…’’ he begins but quiets prompting me to stop and turn to look at him in question urging him on ‘’Do you think you could, do some of your magic maybe? To help us out?’’

In normal circumstances, I would go off him - all with good humour of course - Marc calling my powers magic, which no I don’t do magic. I control the four elements: it's completely different! And second the teases and comebacks from before for me not mucking around and needing to save my energy goes all out the window.

But then again these are not normal circumstances after all. And like I’ve said, the desert makes you do and act weirdly. Staying calm and cool is the way to go, even if right now I want to punch a hole in the earth. Oh, excuse me, sand.

‘’You do realize, which I’m realizing as it’s just hitting me the last two, three times I’ve used my powers we’ve been attacked??’’ he glances away then back at me the puzzles clicking in his mind too ‘’The bandits, the weird birds, the scorpions? I feel like the odds are against us.’’ I cross my arms looking at the sky like he did.

Being a descendant of a god, your fate is not to be so ordinary. Hence me meeting the avatar of Khonsu and falling in love with him sticking to the not ordinary path even in the love department. Wacky is the word to use here.

‘’Aren’t they always?’’ he signs deeply glaring at the stone, rethinking his plan immediately ‘’But you’re right. I won’t risk you getting hurt, we’ll just…’’

Knowing where he is going with this, and the change in air only now becoming noticeable as I focus on it, it's rather easy to reach outwards and feel the air move around us. Grasping a weak air current, I twist my wrist wrapping it around my hand, pulling on it with all my might.

‘’...we’ll just have to come back, and…what the…oh no Y/N…’’ Marc notices the shift as sand gets picked up, drawing it away from the stone. I give Marc a quick glance, confidence blooming in my chest as it’s going better than I’d imagined it to.

And then of course things go wrong.

The sand literally swallows me whole. Just like in cartoons.

‘’Y/N!!!!’’ I hear Marc’s desperate cry before everything goes black, thanks to my eyes closing automatically and well the sand eating me. You know, it is an irrational fear they’ve said. Sinking, it doesn't just happen. Frankly I am amazed as I’m not freaking out as much as one might in a situation as this one. It probably has to do with the fact that I don’t want any more sand in my mouth, or up my nose so far avoiding that happening. Oh yeah and I’m still sinking the sand pressing onto me from everywhere.

The stop is abrupt, not soon after leaving me completely turned around – again! This time around through lying on my back thank the gods, the lack of pressure on my front urging me to take a breath, joy legitimately sparkling in my heart at the lack of suffocation.

Taking it as a positive sign I crack my right eye open noticing the shade I’ve slid under. The shade is not the impressive sight, or thing to be amazed by. My gaze settles onto the clear sight of a pyramid that became partially uncovered in whatever I’ve triggered leaving what looks like an entrance exposed to light. The stones of the pyramid are white preserved thanks to the sand. There’s very little damage by first look everything looking picturesque. Tilting my head, I focus on the entrance lacking any barriers.

Peculiar. The sand doesn't seem to be sipping into the pyramid, so it means the lower part of it is in fact sunken. Or so it appears to be. Huh. There had been one too many coincidences today. Too good to be true rings in my head.

Goosebumps rising over my skin only confirm the unsettling feeling that passes through me. I offer a look towards the sky more so in question not expecting much to be revealed. And it’s not. Only that I’ve fallen into a sinkhole. Or something like it, the sand having crumbled in the weirdest way possible - definitely not natural. The shape of the dips makes no sense, and the disappearance of that much sand that enveloped me to go into nothing?

Strange things are on the horizon.

A particular grunt has me moving finally, the joints in my knee cracking as I push myself to look above my head. I observe Marc uncharacteristically, awkwardly and clumsily descend, kicking up sand catching himself on his hands in odd ways, not looking composed at all.

He looks angry. Why is he angry??

Still whipped out from my own fall and a moment of what I thought was my doom, I process things a bit slower, the lack of water a hard thing to ignore. So, I stare as my boyfriend lands on the ground catching himself on his hands, wasting no time with getting up and sliding to me like a baseball player would.

‘’Are you okay hermosa? Are you hurt?’’

I raise both eyebrows in surprise to see Jake fronting, the angry look making sense. And so do his hands that immediately touch, fingers pressing onto my neck checking for injuries not even waiting for an answer.

‘’No, I don’t think so.’’ I manage to find my voice letting him pull me into a sitting position, hands working firmly over my body. He even rolls his sleeves up, worry deeply etched into his face.

‘’Ah you should have been more careful…’’ he picks up a conversation out of the blue angrily his touch gentle as he takes a hold of my left hand examining it ‘’...shouldn’t have let her, in the first place pendejo…’’

It's not hard to figure out he’s arguing with his alters. So, I cup his cheek with my right hand bringing his attention to me, eyes blazing with fire ‘’It’s on me, mi amor.’’ I begin running my thumb over his cheek ‘’I went ahead and ignored Marc, okay?’’ offering a smile it doesn’t ease Jake’s frustration as he goes back to touching me, switching onto my right hand pressing a kiss on top of my knuckles making me know he’s not as angry as he looks ‘’I’m sorry.’’

‘’Nena, you have nothing to be sorry about…’’

Shutting him up in the most effective way I know, I lean forward practically punching him in the face, but luckily avoiding that, as I clash our lips together. And noses.

That doesn’t faze Jake what-so-ever as he sighs into the messy kiss, being the first one to tilt his head and easing it into a more sensual one, that I go along with eagerly. We’ve gone from watching movies together on the plane to a night that we couldn’t stop touching one another, to being almost killed more than I can count in one day, which feels like a lifetime to be honest. It's been too long since we kissed or took a moment to ourselves. Or maybe that’s just my love for them talking. I absolutely adore the men I am with, love them to bits and pieces as Steven would say.

The kiss doesn’t last long thanks to the dryness of our lips partially. I’d happily keep locking lips as long as we would need air to breathe but we are not out of trouble yet.

‘’Mi corazon you don’t always have to jump on my side to defend my silly hiccups.’’ I genuinely smile at his still serious expression that has loosened, without shaking off his worry ‘’Can you let Marc know, he’s not the one to blame? Like at all.’’ I give him a pointed look, Jake staring at me wordlessly, lips twitching as if he wants to speak but is mumbling to himself.

Looking towards the pyramid, thanks to his hand holding my own I can feel the change in his demeanour how his body tenses, shoulders subconsciously squaring up, the look he gives me emotionless for a moment.

‘’Babe.’’ I smile wider ‘’For an ex-mercenary you’re a lousy babysitter.’’

His eyebrows shot up in question as he looks at me fully confused ‘’Babysitter?’’ Marc's American accent comes through, hands not exploratory anymore instead wrapping around me, as he sits finally having been standing on his knees awkwardly this entire time.

‘’I’m a menace.’’ I muse referencing an inside joke. One of his neighbours, an older lady that looks like the queen of England to me, literally compared me to Dennis the Menace after the 4 random meet ups with her in the elevator, usually when we were coming back to Steve’s apartment.

He rolls his eyes at that, my boyfriend not entirely agreeing with that categorization ‘’I can handle you. We’ve established that, troublemaker.’’ The smirk he offers has me clicking my tongue and wiggling my eyebrows at the suggestiveness.

‘’Oh, we have yes. But a refresher never hurt.’’ To be extra I give him a wink, getting distracted after by a breeze ruffling my loose hair, ponytail giving in thanks to the tumble I’ve experienced. We both look towards the entrance of the pyramid reality crashing down. We are still stuck in the middle of nowhere.

‘’Raincheck?’’

I snort at that rolling my eyes at his eagerness to always get down and dirty so to speak. I have a retort already on the tip of my tongue, as I start to push myself to stand but get stopped by Marc’s calloused, slightly rough hands cupping my cheeks bringing my attention back to my once more worried boyfriend ‘’You are okay right?’’ he asks so seriously, eyebrows turning upright.

He’s blaming himself ‘’I will be after I get a kiss from you.’’ he softens, giving me a pointed look. So, I throw my arms around his shoulders to be close ‘’I’m serious.’’ I pout giving him puppy dog eyes for good measure. His pretty brown eyes take me in as he contemplates something, gaze darting to my lips two times. He closes the distance simply pressing his lips against my own. I don’t rush him knowing that something is going on in his head.

‘’Ah you see. I’m all better.’’ I speak as we part. But the man is still worried, even under all that serious gruffness, I can read him like the crystal blue sky. Because we are alike.

‘’Promise?’’ he pushes not fully convinced, but willing to let go.

‘’Cross my heart and hope to…’’ Due to another more heated glare I show my tongue before finishing my sentence, delivering a peck to the tip of his nose and on the corner of his lips ‘’Come on. Your adventure is right ahead of you.’’

Feeling energized and more like myself even if it's temporary, I jump to my feet letting Marc do the same and take the lead, following closely behind observing our surroundings. The day is not over yet.

‘’At least I can scratch ‘Tomb Raiding in Egypt’ off my never-want-to-do bucket list.’’ I mumble more to myself, as the sun hits us the feeling of unsettledness hitting me once more. It's as if we are being watched. And I’m sure Khonsu is somewhere around, or close enough but he doesn’t give me the creeps I have at the moment.

‘’Says the one who completed 3 of the Tomb Raider’s games.’’ Marc jests in return, hand brushing over my back as he pulls his sleeves back down his arms pulling me into the shade of the doorway, a frown drawing itself over my face.

‘’It's different.’’

Unsettled and rattled I zone in on the hieroglyphs beautifully preserved in the doorway we take shelter in, shade salvation in the heat and emptiness of the desert. I am not the best decoder nor a reader of them, Steven taking it easy with teaching me as Greek and Latin are hard enough to learn anew after years of not studying actively. What I can see is that someone important has been placed to rest in here at first glance.

‘’Wait for me here.’’

At Marc's statement I turn around immediately staring at him in disbelief ‘’Haaa? What for?’’

‘’I’ll be in and out. Khonsu said this should be trap-free and straightforward. This tomb belongs to an important scribe, but not so important to hide gold and traps. I just need documents. So, stay under the shade…’’ he proceeds to hand me the half empty water bottle that survived everything having been stored in his cargo pants ‘’...and wait for me. No arguing.’’

The last part he adds knowing how I’d react. The only thing keeping me back is him. I don’t want him to get stuck in his head and worrying about my safety all the time. His fear of assuming the worst bringing him endless stress and anxiety, something that I’m trying to get him to stop or at least lessen. I want to help him, make him happy because he deserves the world. And that’s something I’m willing to get for him. By any means necessary to.

Keeping my mouth shut I offer a nod leaning against the wall for effect to prove to him I’ll behave ‘’Good girl.’’ his voice dips lower as he presses a kiss to my forehead offering me a smile before he’s turning away hand running over his slicked hair. He disappears inside as if he’s been here a million times, not really checking his footing or anything.

What a hero huh? I can’t even smile at the thought as he takes things upon himself that he does not need to do so at all. He knows I’m a good fighter, knows my control over the elements provide a huge advantage making the impossible possible, but his stubbornness knows no bounds. So protective, they all are.

Despite my thoughts going astray trying to distract myself from imagining all the scenarios mainly from the video game I’ve played happening - yeah, I mean the death scenes - I reach into the cargo pants I’m wearing, getting my mini notebook out and a broken pencil that has not crumbled into dust.

Sitting down in the shade, I start to scribble and draw the symbols from one wall, ending mumbling out loud at the ridiculousness of my situation. Currently I’m left alone in the middle of the desert, my boyfriend exploring a few thousand years old previously untouched and undiscovered tomb he says isn’t dangerous, which isn’t reassuring even if he said it himself. I could have stayed in London. I could have ignored the world really and stayed in bed where everything is nice and wholesome.

Nahhhh who says no to life and death type adventures huh, where scorpions are out literally to get you, and men paid by other men trying to get your head for money. What a fun world we live in. To be fair, me being a descendant of the gods also…normality is not a word in my practice I can act upon.

Remembering the water bottle I placed on the ground, I take half a sip of it wanting to legit cry at the brief relief it brings. My throat closes quickly around dryness, it not being enough for anything. How spoiled I am having to remind myself to drink water every hour back home to right now being almost willing to kill for it. And yes, that sounds serious and unethical but it's so damn hot and I’m so thirsty…

My eyes flicker towards the entrance, fingers of my left hand grasping a handful of sand. I am weapon-less after all. The shifting of sand is loud from the darkness, my body tense as I’m ready for what by now I imagine a monster to jump out. Not to sound like a broken record but in normal circumstances this bounty of creative imagination would be welcomed.

I groan in relief as my boyfriend makes an appearance, shuffling outside body moving awkwardly as he stands with his hands raised in an ‘I come in peace’ position. He offers a nervous smile trying his best not to freak out by the dark grey spiderwebs that he has entangled himself into. It has even gotten in his hair, that has gone into an unruly mess of curls.

‘’Heya dove.’’ he greets sweetly ‘’Seems I’ve gotten myself a wee bit entangled at the moment, haven’t I?’’

‘’Just a wee bit.’’ I get on my feet taking him in, reaching for the spider web on his left hand, the substance sticking to me ‘’Oh it’s bljehkkk.’’ I make a face at the feeling. Raising my left hand, I point my pointing finger letting it act as a lighter. Bringing it over to the spiderweb I watch it spark and burn away spreading like lightning disappearing from Steven’s arm.

‘’Bloody hell.’’ my boyfriend flinches as I continue freeing him, pulling strands of him the effect more dramatic than the action ‘’Handy trick you’ve got there.'’ He compliments, making me genuinely smile as he is always fascinated by what I can do. A memory resurfaces of just a few months ago when a cold wave hit the UK, and I’ve resorted to using my fire to keep my boyfriend warm. Very cuddly couple of days I gotta say.

‘’Slight of hand.’’ I muse taking a step back to take him in, watching as he brushes his hands over his torso, back, hands, legs I’m sure feeling as if he has something crawling over his skin ‘’So what brings your charming ass back out? A dead end? A spider?’’

The tease slips my mouth as I try to keep my chuckles at bay, the soft glare that he gives me making me give him puppy eyes. He remains fidgeting.

‘’It’s not like ‘m cryin’ dove.’’ he points out, shaking his head, my smile not lessening. He does glance back at the entrance making me do so as well, the brief silence telling as he is hesitant with whatever he has to say. Or ask.

I’m usually the softest to Steven. What a lie I’m always soft for Steven. But Marc’s hero complex is the reason of my wavering. And a bit of ego. I want him to admit that I’m right for the job. I’m in his league, and capable of protecting him as well. Even if I really, really don’t want to go into a pyramid because I don’t define that as fun or intriguing, but given Steven is fronting…

‘’We need your fire.’’

Those are not the words I was expecting. In my dumbfounded-ness Steven comes closer raising his pocket flashlight ‘’Our flashlight broke. We are literally blind in there.’’ he pauses ‘’Marc wanted to spare you this experience and I do to my love, but it appears we are in need of your assistance I’m afraid.’’

Sweetly and slowly, he moves my arms from their crossed position taking my hands in his acting charming as ever the man not even aware of the hold he has on me and how much I cannot resist him especially when he asks this sweet and gives me puppy eyes.

‘’You need me to be your personal torch huh?’’

Despite his olive skin and the heat pressing down on the sand I see a faint blush hit his cheeks, the immediate shake of his head ‘’I wouldn’t put it like that.’’ he grimaces ‘’You’re more than that.’’

I begin giggling, closing in pressing an obnoxiously loud kiss to his right cheek.

‘’You’re my world.’’ I slip my hand into his ‘’Let’s go then, lover boy.’’

Shy Steven is back as he stutters something under his breath but follows eagerly. Bringing fire forth to my right hand still holding onto his, I light up the darkness not entirely safe from anxiousness but reassured given I have my boys with me. I don’t need more reasons to blindly follow them - after all I would go with them, or for them to the Duat if needed.

#moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight x y/n #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector #moon knight system #polyamourous #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x y/n #jake lockley #moon knight fanfic

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cutiecorner · 1 month

Text

Can We Fix It?

fic • caregiver J'onn J'onzz, regressor John Stewart

still on my John kick. Might write more for these two!

John was feeling under the weather. He hated to admit it, but he was. He was stubborn when it came to taking breaks from hero work - but this flu had progressed to the point he could barely stand. He laid face down on his bed, groaning through the tight pain in his stomach. His groan melted into a whine as his stomach rolled. Ugh, not this again, he found himself thinking. This flu would not make him regress, he promised himself that. Though, when he reached for the water bottle on his night stand, it spilled. He hated messes. This day just went from bad to worse.

He took a deep breath and prepared himself to roll out of bed, preferably into a standing position. That didn’t happen though, as when he rolled over he rolled clean off the bed, into the puddle of water. John’s face twisted into a pout and he hit the ground with his fist. Ugh! Now he was all wet too? How was he gonna change his shirt if he couldn’t even get up? It was all too much. He hit the ground more and more. His mom’s voice rang through his head, John Marshall Stewart, you better fix your attitude. He stopped his flailing. His mom. He wanted his mom so bad, and the way he was acting? His mom would probably be disappointed. He covered his face with his hands, trying to hide the tears from an imaginary audience. He hated regression. Hate, hate, hated it!

“John?”

A rumbling voice cut through John’s loud thoughts.

“J’onn?’ He replied.

Said martian was hovering right above him, looking worried at his spot on the floor. Everything’s fine, John thought, act casual.

“H-hey man,” John’s voice cracked. Seriously?

“Are you alright?” J’onn asked, his voice painfully gentle, “Your tracker sent an alert that your heart rate was elevated, and I know you’re not well,”

John grimaced at the pain blooming in his back, “I’m fine. Just rolled off the bed is all.”

“Let me help you,”

Before John could protest, he was being lifted by his friend. J’onn set him back in bed, and laid the back of his hand on John’s forehead.

“Getting anything from that?”

J’onn shrugged,“... No, but Clark did it to me when I was sick.”

They shared a laugh.

“Thanks for checking in on me, Big J,”

“Of course. It wasn’t just the sensor that sent me,”

John quirked a brow.

“Your mother wanted me to check in on you,”

John hid his face in embarrassment, mama! He grumbled.

“Think nothing of it, my friend. I’ll be staying with you to make sure you recover,”

“Oh, J’onn, you don’t have to do that.”

“Are you suggesting I disobey a direct order from Shirley Stewart?”

“Oh, yeah, you better stay.”

They laughed again.

J’onn examined John’s face closer, finding the tear stains. He reached up a hand to wipe the still-wet tracks away.

“Little one…”

John flinched.

“Nope, nope, none of that,” John pouted. He crossed his arms and looked away.

“John, I don’t mean to assume, but if this illness is making you regress -”

“It’s not.” he huffed. J’onn retracted his hand.

“Alright, if you say so.”

John perked up at the success. Ha! He was not regressed. Even J’onn thought so.

"Will you at least let me help you out of your wet shirt?

John had already forgotten about the shirt.

"I can do it by myself, thanks,"

With great struggle (and perhaps a hand from J'onn) the shirt was discarded and replaced with a soft Howard University sweatshirt.

“Is it okay if I put something on TV?” J'onn asked.

“Of course, I’ve got some DVDs on the shelf.”

J’onn walked over and thumbed through the shelf. A smirk crossed his face, but was quickly covered with his usual neutral expression. He popped the DVD in the player, and an animated selection screen flicked on. A familiar song started to play.

“J’onn. I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?”

“Bob the Builder? This is a kid’s show.”

“Oh? I wasn’t aware. You’re the one with the DVD.”

John huffed. “Touche.”

The theme song played on. Once the episode proper began, John propped himself up to see.

“What is that?” J’onn asked, pointing at the contraption on screen.

“You’ve never seen a steam roller?”

“I don’t get out much.”

“Well, now you have,” John said, “his name is Roley.”

“Do all steam rollers have names?”

“No! Just this one!” John giggled.

…giggled?

“What are the other creatures' names?”

“They’re not really creatures, J, they’re machines,”

“Then why do they have eyes?”

“I dunno!” John was laughing now.

“Well, what are their names?”

“Okay okay… can you… can you look in that bottom drawer?”

J’onn opened the drawer, finding little plastic figures inside.

“Oh! It’s Roley!” J’onn held up the green steamroller.

“Bring ‘em all over!”

John was sitting up in bed now, trying to curb his growing smile. J’onn spread out the toys on the bed.

“Okay so this is Scoop, he’s a backhoe loader, and Muck is a dump truck - dump trucks are my favorite - and Dizzy, a cement mixer! And Bob, obviously.”

“Bob is the only human among them? How did he come to know these sentient machines?”

John laughed, “I dunno!”

“Maybe if we watch, we’ll find out.”

“Sit here, J!” John beamed, patting the spot next to him.

“Of course, little one.”

#agere #fandom agere #agere fandom #dc agere #justice league agere #green lantern agere #agere fanfic #agere fanfiction

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yourdreamscenarios · 11 months

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When they cheat on you I part 2

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Seokjin

“So, have you heard from him?” Sarah asked once more, as if she hadn’t asked that question a thousand times during the past couple of weeks. You rolled your eyes at one of your most cherished band members and even though you loved her, you wished she’d just leave.You’d banned the topic Kim Seokjin in your dorm for as long as you possibly could. But there was a time a person simply could no longer run from their problems. It seemed like you’d reached that point about a week ago, when your members had been done with your sulking and had told you to call him and talk to him. But that was the thing. No matter how much you it hurt you to talk about what had happened and no matter how much it pained you to hear someone say his name, it was nothing compared to the rage you felt.

It was boiling inside of you, day and night and you were afraid that once you’d no longer have anything left to distract you from all of those bottled up feelings, you’d just loose it.There had never been someone who’d been able to make you feel all of these things. One of the most important people in your life had put a knife in your back and you had never felt more betrayed. He was supposed to be the one who supported you whenever, through whatever. And instead, he had only been thinking of himself and his own needs. “How about no.” You muttered, knowing you were being moody towards them for no reason. They couldn’t help the situation you were stuck in right now. None of it was their fault.

Yet, you couldn’t help but feel like you had to be mad at someone, everyone. Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to take it out on something. Take boxing classes perhaps? Maybe they’d allow you to put a picture of Seokjin’s face on your punching bag so you might actually be able to let go of some of your anger. It would feel good to actually be able to put a punch to his face without actually having to deal with the consequences. “Don’t you want to hear from him?” Jaimy asked you from across the room, where she was reading her book on the couch, laying upside down.She was one of those human beings you simply couldn’t seem to understand, no matter how hard you tried.

She was one of the nicest people you knew, but there was something new to learn about her every single day. And hearing her ask you this question, you knew for sure she was rather focused on the novel she was reading than the conversation you were having. “Definitely not.” You said, looking up from the spot behind your laptop to send her a hard stare. As her eyes slowly slipped from the chapter in her book towards yours, she blinked her eyes innocently before going back to her reading. “It might give you some closure, talking to him. Maybe then you can move on, stop being moody.” Kyla muttered softly underneath her breath. Your fingers tingled from the urge to throw something at her while she continued to play her video game like this was some neutral conversation about the weather or your favorite ice cream flavor.

This was your heart they were talking about so carelessly. You had loved that man, for such a long time. You had given him so much of yourself. You had trusted him enough to let him come close to you, to let him know all the small details about you. And still, he’d been able to hurt you the way no one else had been able to do before. You moved back toward your computer, where you’d opened the program which you used for songwriting. You wished there were any more things you could write than lyrics about heartbreak and hating your ex boyfriend, or the way you wanted to slap him with a baseball bat. The last thing you wanted was to have to think of him every single time you had to perform. So these past few days had consisted of you writing them, before saving them in a long forgotten map on your computer where you’d hopefully never have to look at them again.

You told yourself they helped you to progress everything that had happened, but everyone knew that was a round out lie. Why couldn’t your friends just focus on their own problems instead of trying to be your therapist? “We’re just worried about you, you know that right?” Sarah said, looking up from her piano where she had been jamming on some keys, as if she’d heard your thoughts. You demanded your defending posture to back down, trying to convince yourself that was exactly what they were doing. Though, sometimes you couldn’t help but think they were trying to get into the middle of something they just didn’t understand.

You nodded once, then sent her a small smile which probably looked as awkward on your face as it felt. “Oh god.” Kyla said, pausing her playstation so that a big source of sound fell from the room. Frowning, Jaimy pushed herself upright, fidgeting as she tried to steady herself and not drop her book at the same time. The probing on the piano keys faltered as Sarah looked up from her melody to stare out of the window. It had been raining outside since you’d woken up, which was probably the reason why you’d all decided to stay indoors today. A set of headlights flashed throughout the window and you squeezed your eyes as the light shone straight into your eyes as a car parked on your driveway.

You’d recognize that vehicle anywhere. You’d sat in those leather seats so often you’d lost count. The lavender smell still seemed to be lingering inside of your nose. It made all the hairs on your limps rise in discomfort. Out of all the things he’d do, you surely hadn’t expected he would show up at your door. You thought that he’d understand, that after ignoring his texts and phone calls, he would get the fact that you simply didn’t want to see him. But Seokjin had never been one to quit so easily and he wasn’t one to give up on something he wanted. Displease churned inside of you as you realized that all your members would be able to see this entire scene happen.

He’d chosen a hell of a moment to come around for a chat. Listening to the sound of a car door slam shut you stretched out your neck, trying to see beyond the curve of the wall. But you couldn’t manage to spot him before the doorbell rang and he was already standing at the front door. An intense silence fell over the apartment as everybody sat on their spot, frozen. The ticking of the clock in the hall indicated a few seconds had passed before the buzzer went off a second time, and quickly followed by a third. He probably knew you were home and he wasn’t going to give up until someone opened the god damn door. “Well, are you going to open it or are we?” Kyla asked, sending you an uncomfortable look from her spot on the couch. You glared at her while slamming your laptop shut, making sure to make it looked as dramatic as it sounded.

If you’d find out that one of them had something to do with this sudden appearance, then this wasn’t over yet. The sound of your chair scraping across the floor as you stood echoed against the walls and you took your sweet time making your way towards the hallway and to the front door. The thought that he was standing right outside, getting soaked by the pouring rain made you feel a little bit better. Standing on top of your tiptoes you reached to look out through the peephole and to be honest, what you saw made your stomach drop. You’d never expected it to be easy to see him again after what had happened. It was probably one of the reasons why you had avoided sticking anywhere after showcases or watching too much tv these days.

You’d avoided his face on purpose, so you wouldn’t have to deal with all of the negative feelings its sight would have to offer. But now, you couldn’t do anything but stare at him, once again realizing how handsome he was. Once, he’d been yours, before he’d decided to mess it all up. Taking a deep breath that crushed your lungs, you ripped the lock from the door and opened it. His hand had once again been on its way towards the doorbell, but paused halfway as he realized you were standing right in front of him. He was drenched, his clothing sticking to him in a way that would have turned you on not such a long time ago. Now, the only thing you felt when you looked at him was agony. A silence passed between the two of you as you stood on the dry side of the house and the rain continued to tickle on top of his head.

The look inside of his eyes was one you had never seen him wear before. You could sense all the guilt in it, all the pain and the hate he probably felt towards himself. The thing was that you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “What do you want Seokjin?” You asked, surprised that you had it in yourself to sound as cold as you did, while you felt your insides falling apart. A visible shiver traveled through him, and the logical part of you told you that you had to move him out of the rain. If you wouldn’t he’d probably get terribly sick tomorrow. But then you reminded yourself that he had done this to himself, it was his own fault he was standing out there in the cold.

“I just want to talk.” He muttered, his voice straining as he looked at something over your shoulder. You didn’t need to turn around in order to know he was watching your members disappear from the living room, creeping up to their bedrooms. On one side you were glad they were giving you the privacy to handle this without them being all over it. On the other side, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to do this alone. “I thought I’d been clear last time? I don’t want to talk to you, nor do I want to see you. I want you to leave me alone.” You spat, hoping he could feel the heat of the fire inside of your voice. You hoped your words hurt him half as much as his action had hurt you. For a brief second he closed his eyes, as if letting go of something he’d held onto until now.

“Please…” He implored, his voice cracking in the middle of the world. And you realized that perhaps it was his dignity which had just left him, from begging you. God, the strength you held in this situation. It would only take you a second to slam the door in his pathetic face. It would only take you a single breath to tell him ‘no’. But you immediately realized that wasn’t what you needed. Kyla was right, you needed closure. If you ever wanted to move on from what had happened and leave it behind you, you’d have to endure this. It took everything inside of you to put a step aside and let him pass. You could tell he was trying to make eye contact with you as he slipped inside of the house, but you purposely looked down at the trail of drops he was creating on the clean tiles.

You could feel the memories of all the times he’d been in the dorm probing inside of your mind, willing to surface and make this even harder for you. But you pushed them all back, refusing to give into them. You took your sweet time locking the door, checking twice if you’d done it right. And that time you took to pull yourself back together. Taking deep breaths in through your nose and letting them out through your teeth. No matter what he said, you must never forget what he’d done to you. You must never forget that moment you’d found him in your shared bed with a strange woman underneath him, calling out her name. Straightening your shoulders and flipping back your hair, you turned around and walked towards the living room, where he stood at the centre waiting for you. Once he’d been as much at home here as he’d been in his own dorm. Now, he didn’t even seem sure if he was allowed to sit on the couch.

You were sure his wet clothing wasn’t the only thing to blame for that. “Well go ahead, talk.” You said, stilling at a safe distance from him. You didn’t want to smell the soft scent of limes coming from him, or see the reflection of yourself in his sad eyes. You told yourself you had to set boundaries, in order to protect yourself. “I wanted to apologize.” He said, and it seemed that only now that he’d said those words out loud, he realized how they sounded. You squared your shoulders and crossed your arms over your chest as you took him in. You could tell the plan he’d made before coming here was starting to unravel in front of his eyes. This wasn’t some kind of fairytale which ended in happily ever after.

This wasn’t the kind of world where love made you forget all the bad and remember only the good. You wondered if until now he’d even realized how high you’d built your walls ever since everything had happened. He would never be able to break them down again. You’d built them brick by brick, to make sure he would never get back in on the other side. What he’d done, wasn’t something an apology was ever going to be able to fix. “I-I know that’s not what you want to hear. But I’m so, so terribly sorry. I want you to know that I never wanted to hurt you. I never should have done what I did. I will regret it for the rest of my life.” He rattled, wringing his fingers together in front of him. His hair was starting to curl around the ears, in the process of drying up. It was probably the first time you looked him straight in the eye as you answered him.

“Good.” You’d never known you had it in you to hold these kind of grudges, to be this mean. But then again, nobody had ever treated you the way he had. He swallowed harshly, emotion flickering across his face. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what you were about to say. “Maybe I’d like to hear your explain yourself one day. Perhaps one day I could handle having a civilized conversation with you again. But not today. Right now, I hope you’ll feel as hopelessly lonely as I did the past couple of days. I hope one day you’ll find out what it’s like to be left in the cold, to have your heart broken into pieces by someone so important to you, you were willing to give them everything. I hope you’ll find out what it feels like to think it’s all your fault, and you’ll have to handle it on your own.” By now a shimmer of tears swam inside of his eyes and it didn’t take long before the first ones rolled down his cheeks. Not so long ago you would have rushed towards him demanding to know who’d made him this upset so you strangle them.

But right now, you were fighting your own battle and there was only one of you who could win. “Right now, I wish you pain.” You croaked, trying to keep your own emotions in check. You weren’t going to cry, not in front of him. It was one thing to tell him how much he’d hurt you, it was another thing entirely to show him. He nodded, brushing off his tears with his already drenched coat. You could tell he understood, and for now you were able to find peace in that. That he knew that he’d been wrong, and that he would carry this mistake with him for a very long time. You hoped he’d be able to use this lesson in the future, even though you’d both had to learn it the hard way.

“And now I want you to leave. If I ever wish for you to contact me again, I’ll let you know. Until then, I hope you could at least respect me enough to give me my space.” You said, trying to make him understand that you did not ever want to see him appear on your doorstep again. He shouldn’t try to talk to you when you ran into each other during broadcasts. That he shouldn’t congratulate you on your birthday or text you to ask how you were doing. That he shouldn’t like your Instagram posts and shouldn’t promote your songs. By the look on his face, you could tell he understood, and you could tell it was breaking him apart. Letting out the air you hadn’t known you were holding you stepped aside, creating room for him to let himself back out. He knew how the lock worked, he’d used it many times before.

“Goodbye Kim Seokjin.” You mumbled, for the last time tasting his name on top of your tongue, the feel op it rolling over your lips. You took him in, remember him like this before burying the thought somewhere in a black box in the back of your mind, locking it and stuffing away the key. His steps trembled as he walked past you, his hand briefly brushing past the sleeve of your sweater as in a final greeting. You felt the love which had once been there glide against your skin, tickle your nerves. But you forced it to trickle onto the floor, together with the trace of water he was leaving behind on the floor on his way out.

Namjoon

“Please, please get into the car. You’ll catch a cold out here.” Namjoon said, sticking his head out of the window from the driver’s seat. With your arms crossed over each other you tried to press your coat closer against your body. Protecting yourself from the wind trying to slice through you. For some reason or another, you seemed to welcome the cold. It was exactly what you needed right now, to sober you up and make sure you didn’t give into whatever your heart was trying to tell you. Tears were still running down your cheeks, but you barely felt them.

Your feelings felt like a hurricane, rushing through you and leaving you breathless. How could he do this to you? After all the time the two of you had spent together. After everything you had shared and the promises you had made to one another. You’d gone through so many hardships together. But in the end, none of it seemed to be enough. Self doubt started creeping in, and your nails pressed half moons inside of the skin of your arms through the fabric of your jacket. No, this was not the time to start blaming yourself. It was something you’d never thought you’d find yourself doing. Thinking someone else’s mistake was your own.

But you couldn’t seem to stop it. Unintentionally, the thoughts started dripping in, and you couldn’t seem to stop them, or ignore them for that part. What if part of this was your fault? Had you started lacking in this relationship? You’d been together for so long, maybe you hadn’t noticed the signs. You’d gained a few pounds while being with Namjoon. You felt comfortable around him, with yourself and your own body. You’d stopped trying to dress up every time you saw him, thinking he accepted you for who you were by now without having to try too hard. After a certain amount of time, you hadn’t bought any sexy lingerie anymore, like that girl in the picture did, because Namjoon knew your body, and you’d expected that to be enough.

“Honey please, at least let me drive you home.” He’d been following you with the car for what felt like hours now. After you’d ran from the house and had stepped into the cold weather, he’d gotten straight into the car and driven up to where you were walking. Cars were honking as they passed by, clearly annoyed by the fact that Namjoon was deliberately holding up traffic. But if he cared about any of that at all, he didn’t show it. A painful giggle squeezed itself out of your lungs. This was the kind of crazy thing that was only supposed to happen in the movies. Straight after, another sob followed, breaking through your body.

You still refused to look at him, keeping a steady pace as you passed several people on the pavement. They were all giving you weird and stunned looks, which you ignored. Was it just the physical part about the relationship though? Or had he simply stopped loving you? Was the feeling you had no longer enough? Your relationship had been stable from the start. There hadn’t been many surprises, many bumps in the road. You’d both always just gone along with it, without complaining much. Was that it? Had he gotten bored? Bored of you, bored of your love? All of this was so funking painful, you couldn’t even believe it was actually happening. You refused to let your mind wonder off to all the things she might have done to please him.

To the ways she’d been able to make him feel better than you had. To the things she’d been able to give him that you apparently hadn’t. You’d never felt so small in your entire life. It was terrible, love being such a beautiful thing, but it was able to shatter you in the matter of a heartbeat. “___________, get in the car, right now.” It was the slight annoyance inside of his voice he usually had whenever you wouldn’t agree with him whenever he was trying to prove his point. It was the edge inside of his words that cause you to turn around to face him. You had no idea what he was seeing inside of your expression when he looked at you. But it seemed to make him flinch and his grip around the steering wheel tightened as he searched for something to say.

“You don’t get to boss me around anymore Kim Namjoon.” You could tell that you using his full name was like a punch in the gut for him, but you didn’t care. Actually, honestly, you quite enjoyed seeing him suffer. Because he couldn’t be hurting half as much as you were throughout all of this. After all, if he was, he never would have done what he did. “Let me take you home __________, let’s talk about this. Please, give me a chance to explain.” He tried, sounding desperate as he stopped the car as you stopped walking. To out standers, you probably looked ridiculous. You looked like a couple being dramatic while having a stupid fight over nothing. If they only knew.

“And then what? Is this the point where you’re going to tell me that you don’t know that woman? Or that nothing happened? That you didn’t fuck her? Or that it didn’t mean anything, and you regretted it from the moment it happened? Or were you going to tell me that you will never do it again? Oh, no wait, you were drunk! Is that it?!” With every word that left your mouth, your voice raised louder and louder. Every emotion was searching for a way out, and it had been a long time since you’d felt this good screaming. Namjoon’s lips parted, as if he wanted to speak up, but you could see it in his eyes, that he had nothing left to say. There was nothing he could say to make up for this. There was nothing he could do to undo what he had done. It was as if he only just now seemed to notice how much damage he’d wreaked.

You ignored the drops of rain which were gradually starting to fall from the sky, landing on top of your head. It seemed as if the weather was feeling sympathetic with you, as if it understood what you were going through, knew what you needed. The sky was crying with you, weeping over everything you’d lost, everything that was no longer to be. In a matter of minutes, your entire life had fallen apart. “I’m not getting in the car with you. I’m not going to let you explain. I don’t want to hear whatever it is you have to say. I’m not coming home with you, not now, not ever. It’s over.” Never in a million years had you expected to say these words to him.

He’d been everything you’d ever wanted, your past, your present and your future. Yet, if that didn’t go both ways, then what had you been doing all along? If all things happened for a reason, then you had a very difficult time seeing one right now. Namjoon looked completely beaten down as the rain tickled down on the windshield, not even reaching out for the wipers. He seemed to be frozen in place, hurt plastered all over his face as he realized he’d lost you, and there was nothing he could do to make it right. You looked at him one last time, and swore there would be a day when you’d look up at his face, and you would no longer feel the agony you felt right now, as you turned around and walked away.

Hoseok

Sweat was dripping down your forehead, your back and in between your breasts. Your breath coming out in little puffs as you let the music flow through you. Your feet moved to the beat without even trying, not missing a single step. By now you’d gone through this choreography so many times, you barely had to think about it. But that wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to think. You wanted to get lost, lost in the moves, in the melody. You didn’t want to give your head the time to register everything it had seen, everything it had learner over the past few hours. After you’d fled from Hoseok, you came straight here, and you’d been here for hours.

You’d watched dancers come and go, and you were the only one staying behind. It was almost four in the morning, and your body started protesting. Fatigue was trying to take over, your arms becoming heavy and your feet getting slowed down. But you refused to give in. You knew what would happen when you got home, to your quiet apartment, which hadn’t felt like home in a long time since you’d practically moved in with Hoseok a few months ago. Going back there, it felt absolutely horrible. You’d always thought you’d sell the place, gather your stuff and live happily ever after with the love of your life. You should have known it sounded too good to be true.

You were afraid that as soon as the quiet would gather around you, you would no longer be able to fight the feelings threatening to drown you. That the images of him snogging that girl would pop back into your mind, and they would never leave again. If you’d decided to go home, you knew you’d never been able to sleep in the first place. The song ended, and you were planning on pressing replay, when all of a sudden, a knock sounded on the door. The studio had been deserted for hours now. Most people came here at a reasonable hour, and not in the middle of the night. Your step faltered halfway towards your phone, and you turned your head towards the door just in time to watch it open.

You threw your head back and let it rest in the back of your neck while staring up at the ceiling as you saw who entered. “Oh fuck me.” You muttered, tugging the band out of your hair, only to gather it back up on the top of your head and turn it into a messy bun. Hoseok stood in the middle of the doorway, clearly looking uncomfortable. At first he couldn’t even look at you as he fiddled with his hands in front of himself, his gaze pointed towards the floor. You wanted to yell at him, and all the frustration you’d been trying to hold off seemed to swirl inside of you just by the sight of him. Yet, after a few seconds, as if he could tell he’d caught your attention, his eyes met yours. Your jaw clenched painfully as you saw the look on his face.

What did he expect? For you to feel sorry for him as you spotted the guilt written all over it? “Get to the point of get out.” You snapped, making your way over to the other side of the room where you’d put your phone on a chair. Scooping it up, you shut down your music app and grabbed the towel lying beside it to wipe away your sweat. The silence inside of the room was deafening after the blasting of the music had stopped. If you hadn’t known any better you might have wondered how he had found you here. But the two of you both knew where you went in order to let off some steam. There was nothing that helped you better to clear your head than dancing. A thing you both had in common. A thing you’d both been passionate about.

“I swear what you saw in there is not what you think.” He started, and you shook your head, throwing the towel into your bag and zipping it up. Were you seriously supposed to stay here while he was going to give you that bullshit? “What do you take me for? Are you really going to treat me like I’m stupid?” You asked, and you could see the alarm bells going off inside of his head as he listened to your snappy response. You wondered how he had expected this conversation to go. If he’d come here with the thought that he still stood a chance of he only apologized.

“Because if not you wouldn’t say such a thing. Are you going to tell me she forced herself on you? That you weren’t enjoying yourself when I walked in? Because it sure as hell didn’t look as if you were going anything against your own will.” It surprised you how sober you felt while talking about this. It was as if you had the lead role in some kind of movie. As if the life you were living right now wasn’t yours. You knew that once everything would sink in, you would probably spend hour on end bawling your eyes out. You would scream, and scold yourself for letting him go. For not forgiving him and taking him back. It was going to take you a very long time to get over this. “I didn’t mean it. If I could undo it, I would right now. I don’t even like her. She’s been after me for weeks…”

You felt like punching him when he said that, and you were very close to growling at him. Everything he said enraged you even more. It was like adding oil to a flame, growing out to become a terrible, uncontainable fire. “Don’t you dare put me up against her! They were your actions! You did this to us! And I will not accept you blaming another woman for your own stupid behavior! You make me sick!” You yelled, and all of a sudden, you knew you could no longer be in the same room as him. He no longer resembled the man you had once fallen in love with. You had never once thought that he’d ever do something like this to you. But neither had you ever expected that he wouldn’t own his own mistakes.

Grabbing hold of your bag, you swung it over your shoulder as you walked towards him, making e beeline for the door. “And if this is what you see as an apology, then you have a lot left to learn.” You were so close to him it would only take a matter of seconds to overcome the distance between the two of you. It would be so much easier for you to forget all of this had happened, and just say that you forgave him, move on. But you would never be able to live with yourself if you did that. Whatever had been between the two of you, it was broken beyond repair, and it could never be mended.

“I never want to see your face again. You disgust me.” His bottom lip actually trembled at your words, and his hand fisted at his side, as if he had to stop himself from reaching out to you, to stop you from leaving. But you could see it in his eyes, that he knew there was nothing left to do. This could have been beautiful, the life you could have had together. It could have been something you’d both dreamed of. But now, it had turned into something that would never be, something you would never know.

Yoongi

Walking into the café, you were immediately hooked on the smell of coffee. It used to give you an adrenaline rush, and the smell always made you happy. These days, there was a negative feeling being thrown into the mix. Somehow you couldn’t help but letting the feelings from last time you’d been here come forward. It had seemed like the easiest thing to do, meeting up again in this spot. Where you’d found out, and where you wanted to see things through until the end. Plus, it somehow didn’t feel right to do this at your place, or at his. Either of you needed to get the chance to get away as soon as they felt like it.

And you didn’t want to have the memories of this conversation lingering in your home after it was over. The fact that you had to have this conversation on its own, was terrible enough as it was. You gave the barista your order, and slid into a booth in the corner of the room after she confirmed she’d bring it to you as soon as it was done. A deep sigh escaped from you as you leaned back against the seat, gazing out of the window. You’d avoided this moment for a while. It had been quite a lot for you to wrap your head around after Yoongi had given you the information he’d cheated on you. You appreciated him for telling you in person, sparing you from the shame of having to find out through someone else.

Two weeks later you still didn’t feel ready to face everything. Not seeing him had helped you giving everything a place inside of your mind. But knowing he would be here soon and you would have to endure this conversation had your heart beating double time. You had definitely gone through a few of the stages of a breakup the past couple of days, and you were absolutely exhausted. As he told you what he had done, you hadn’t been able to grasp it. It was a reality you didn’t want to know existed. You couldn’t believe that the man you had loved to fondly, had done this to you. No matter which excuses he thought of. You had never thought he would be capable of doing something like this.

By the time you’d gotten home after finding out, you’d been so incredibly angry. Angry at yourself, for trusting someone as dearly as you had trusted him. You had given him your heart. Christ, you had given him everything, and he had thrown it all away. And for what? For one evening with someone else? To forget his problems for a few hours? But most of all you had been angry with him. Furious for what he had done to you, and for how much he had hurt you. Angry, for telling you the truth, because if he hadn’t then at least you’d still been happy. Disappointed, since he didn’t love you enough to not need anyone else but you. You’d been angry for a very long time. You still weren’t done being angry to be honest, and you knew you would be for much longer.

And then the process had started of trying to figure out what you were to do with everything he had told you. How could you possibly move past this? He had betrayed you, your trust and had indirectly told you that your love was no longer significant to him. And apart from that, he had proven to you that you could never put your trust in him again. Because what would prevent him from doing this again? He said he was sorry, and that might be true. But one could feel terrible about something, but still repeat that action. Trust that was once broken could not be restored. A relationship depended on it. Without it, it didn’t mean anything. You wanted to pretend it had never happened, deny the entire thing. But that was impossible.

Every time you thought about Yoongi, it was as if there was a hole inside of your chest. Your heart broken into tiny little pieces. How could something so beautiful be destroyed by one action? And after crying your eyes out for days, not having any appetite, and not being able to get out of bed, you had finally decided that it was time for the two of you to talk. You needed to get this over with, because otherwise you would never be able to get any closure. “One latte.” You looked up to see Yoongi putting your coffee down in front of you. Inside of your chest, your heart had no idea what it was supposed to do. For the first second it betrayed you by fluttering softly. But the next, it seemed to shatter, and a pain you didn’t know you could feel without any physical injury took master of you.

He looked just as handsome as he normally did, but there was a certain sadness that felt like a shadow all around him. It seemed to follow him everywhere he went. As he sat down across of you in the booth, you noticed he looked exhausted, as if he hadn’t had any decent sleep in days. “You look tired.” You spoke before you could change your mind. Internally you scolded yourself. The last thing you wanted was for him to think that you were worried about him, not after what he’d done. “Yeah, I’ve had a hard time sleeping last week. Can’t seem to quiet my mind.” After that, an awkward silence fell over the two of you. It was as if you were both trying to hold on to what had been, even if it was just for a few more minutes.

Because you both knew, that once either of you would speak up, that fantasy was about to come to an end. “I’m really glad you asked me to come. I thought you might no longer want to see me after…” The remaining part of his sentence was floating around in the air, and you both didn’t want to finish it. You cleared your throat and brought your coffee up to your lips, taking a sip without actually tasting anything. It gave you a minute to collect your thoughts before answering. “At first I didn’t.” His lips pulled together in a sad smile at those words and he sighed before combing his fingers through his hair. He looked sincerely sad because of it. His gaze drifted off towards the table, as if he was no longer able to look at you.

“Listen, I’ve been thinking about this for quite some time now. And the truth is, I don’t think I can forgive you for what you did. I would be lying to myself if I’d tell you that I would ever be able to move past this. I just can’t. You really hurt me Yoongi.” Your voice was soft, as if even after all of this, you were still scared of hurting him. He leaned his elbows on top of the table, resting his face in the palms of his hands. You couldn’t tell whether he was crying, even though you knew he wasn’t someone who was easily emotional. “I know. I don’t deserve for you to forgive me.” His voice sounded hoarse, and there was a part of you that wanted to reach out to him, giving him a gentle squeeze.

But that part of you was broken and so your hands remained where they were. “I really respect you for telling me the truth when you had the chance. But right now, I think you’re an absolute asshole for what you did.” He dropped his hands, and his eyes looked slightly red as he looked at you. He was drinking you in, as if this was the last time he might ever be able to look at you from this close. “But, maybe because of your honesty, we might be able to be friends one day.” Because no matter how difficult this was, and no matter how much you hated him right now. He wasn’t the kind of person you wanted to miss being in your life. He smiled sadly, running his fingers across his wet cheek. “I’d like that very much.”

Jimin

Coming soon...

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bluetooththereptile · 2 years

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Oh my gosh first of all sorry Blue I think I did go a bit overboard on that ask especially considering it was for a yandere one shot 😂 Ok you don't have to write it thanks for your honesty to be honest I wasn't sure what to give you for yandere batfam. B/c in your original work like with the unwanted reader you went above and beyond with emotions , and in each part it got really suspensful and good. And I wasn't sure if the typical girl meets yandere would cut it I was afraid if I made it to simple you'd be bored with my request. Anyway in hindsight I probably should have read over my ask and made it shorter. Ok so I know its kinda the same ask but it can be more vague and unsaid if you are ok with it could you do a one - shot of a day in the life of growing up from birth with a yandere batfam? But with a male character maybe mid teens and things can be implied but mostly it could be about how his life has turned out from staying so long with them how he is just barely seeing the signs of how strange his life is and his struggle for independence and self discovery and wanting to be his own man and having so many strong male role models in his life yet never seeming to make progress on his own and he is frustrated . Anyway if thats ok with you maybe something like that also I hope you know you never have to feel pressured to write for me I will always appreciate the work you put out and the sensations I felt and remember when encountering your work I like you to and I kinda get it I'm not much of a writer with an online presence but when I do write sometimes for prompts or projects it can be a lot the burnout or just not feeling the scenario or words to fill it out and finish it so take care ok after all you are giving us your time and work and I and others appreciate it so just do whatever feels natural in the mean time I'll be cheering on from the sidelines !☺

Alright now we are talking!

I can do that don't worry! Thanks for asking!

Being a Wayne

Male reader x yandere bat family

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Just saying I may write a chapter two for this~

Tw: violence, injuries

"Master Y/N!" You rolled your eyes as you turned to meet Alfred with your lunch bag in his hands. "You were going to forget your lunch master Y/N..." you gave the old man a half-smile "You know I'm not 12 anymore right? Plus in school, they give us lunch, right Tim?" You turned to your brother who was trying to find a way to get rid of the lunch bag in his hands by putting it behind a plant or a statue "Timmy?" You tried to grab his attention "W-what huh?" He jolted his head up "Oh sorry...did you say something Y/N?" At this point whatever you were going to say was forgotten and Alfred had walked away, leaving you with the lunch bag.

You sighed in frustration, you were not a child anymore! You could take care of yourself! You'd be an adult in just a year and Alfred still treated you like you didn't know what to eat or not! Alright, maybe you and Tim, who was nearly your age, had made some questionable habits over drinking coffee or eating snacks but that didn't mean that everything you ate had to be monitored by someone else! The only time you got to eat something, not home-cooked was when you were on a mission, for sure home-cooked meals were great but you didn't need to be supervised about it!

"Good morning guys!" Dick's voice echoed in the hallway, you smiled at him as he waved to you before turning his head toward Tim "My batring is broken you care to fix it up for me?" He nearly yelled from the other end of the hallway, his phone in his hand "Why don't you do it yourself? Too busy talking to your "baby"?" Tim nagged "Oh hey stop right there young man! I'm an adult with so much stuff to do! As your older brother, I am asking you to fix my stuff because I can!" Tim rolled his eyes "Fine, I'll fix it when we get home!" "That's a good boy! But make sure to fix it before the sun goes down I need it tonight!" "I thought you didn't patrol tonight?" You asked in surprise "No it's Jay's turn tonight, I need it for the mission-..."

Dick trailed off as Tim mouthed him to stop, but it was too late and the secret already had spilled "What mission?" You asked, confused. As a member of the justice league you had expected to be informed about missions happening, so when dick, as the supervisor, knew about the missions concerning the league, you had to know it too! Unless they had "forgotten" to inform you. You turned to Tim with your eyes narrowed, shushing him before he could even open his mouth you sighed deeply. Today's ride to school was going to be a long one.

......

"I thought we were close enough, Timothy!" Tim winced at his full being used, your sarcastic tone adding to The bitterness of your argument "Didn't we agree on not hiding anything from each other Tim?" "Yes but-" "No buts and no more excuses! How could you? It's the third time this month!" You looked out of the window in frustration, trying to calm yourself down, Tim remained silent, knowing that if he continued to make excuses, you'd get angrier.

It was not fair, you thought to yourself. You trained so hard that some training sessions had ended up in you and your father arguing about you pushing your limits too far. You tried to analyze every mission as best as you could so you had better performance in your missions, you tried to be the best but your family left you out of what you enjoyed the most, being a hero.

You had joined the league for six months now, but you had gone on two missions so far when Tim and your siblings were too busy dealing with their duties. It was not fair! Not at all! You bit down on your fist to stop yourself from groaning in frustration. How could they leave you out like this? You were tired of their stupid excuses, they had used all of their tactics to make you believe that something was wrong when it wasn't!

Your physical test for the joining application to the league had gotten rejected several times while you were in perfect condition! Your equipment had broken down without being used, you were left out of the mission calls and your batring were always offline, no matter how many times you had tried to fix it. You knew it was your family's fault, but you couldn't find any evidence. And it frustrated you to no end.

All you wanted to do was to help people around you, just like what your mother had taught you during the first decade of your life, she had told you to become a good member of society, and help the people who are in need of it, just like your father. Bless her soul, you hadn't seen her again since you were ten years old, how could she come out of her grave to meet you again? You thought, your heart clenching in your chest at the memory of her.

......

The ride to school went silently, and you didn't bother to utter a word to your brother for the rest of your time at school. Fortunately, you had Bart and M'gan To fill up your time with. "Wow boy! If my ma were going to put these in my bag I wouldn't have eaten junk food away again!" Bart said as he buried his head into your lunch back, making you smack the back of his head lightly as you chuckled "You look down today...what's the matter?" M'gan asked as she tilted her head to the side, you sighed and looked up at her, she had put on such a good disguise that even you couldn't recognize her easily if you didn't know her new look already, "It's my family..." She knowingly patted your shoulder, you had talked about this before, and no matter how many solutions you had thought of, none of them had worked out.

"I just...ugh! Look at Bart! Look at him!" You said as you pointed at Bart, making the poor guy stare at you with wide eyes "What?" He asked with his mouth full "Am I not as good as Bart?" You asked, making M'gan rub the back of her neck "Well..." She trailed off, making you groan "I may not have any super powers but I bet on anything you say that I train my ass off nearly every day! I try to learn from others, but I'm never good enough!" You made an impression of your father as you deepened your voice "You are not qualified for this position!" You couldn't help but slam your fist on the table, making your plate fall off the lunch table.

"I'm sick of it! Look at me! It's my 18th birthday next month and I'm still treated like a baby! I'm sent off to a school that has cameras everywhere, I don't care if it's nice or not! I'm constantly watched by some strangers! I find trackers sewed in my clothes and bags, even right now I know that someone is listening through my damn phone because it's hacked!" You seeth the last part in your phone's speaker, scoffing as your Jayson's number showed up on the screen.

You turned your phone off as you continued "I'm never good enough! At home, I'm treated like I'm something fragile and outside of it I'm like a failure that needs to stay at home all the time! Haven't you seen Bruce when he's all of the gear and armor? He terrifies the shit out of everyone including me, and I feel madder every day passes because I am not good enough for him!" You called your father by name when you were too angry to help yourself. "I just don't know what to do!" "Let it go, dude...you can start tomorrow, just don't push yourself now..." Bart said, sounding more sensible than ever "Alright..."

It was your last class of the day, and you were impatient to leave, your empty stomach grumbled, making you tap your pen on your notes harder, so you could let out the frustration in a way. You couldn't understand whatever the teacher was saying, your mind was in another world. You were pulled out of your thoughts as a note found its way on your desk. "You okay?" Tim had asked making you scoff again, you turned to your brother, who had his desk next to you "Do I look okay?" You mouthed, making him wince again, a storm was going to hit the Wayne mansion and it was going to end in something good, Tim thought to himself.

......

"Y/N! I don't have time for this!" Your father shouted at you, making your Jae close in an instant, he hadn't shouted at you like this before, He was tired and angry, not on you of course, how could he, but the last weeks had been frustrating to him, and your continuous nagging didn't help him ease it down much. You stood there as your father put his armor gear on, you sighed and looked away, it was not the time to talk to him, you knew it well, that was why you gave given up. You watched Damian pick his weapons up, making your fists clench harder. You understood what your family was going through, but the anger did not subside, it just crawled into your every bone, waiting for the right for you to snap.

Damian gave you a knowing look, reminding you of the conversion you two had effort your father had gotten home, you had offered him help in his patrolling, and even though the boy loved to have quality time with you, he refused. You asked for the reason and he withheld the answers from you, for no damn reason!

So naturally, you had tried to open up the conversation with your father, who surprisingly "didn't have time" for you. And here you were, standing there like a moron. "Dad...can we have a talk when you are back?" You asked, "For what?" He said as turned to you, you looked at him the scowl on his face reminding you of the danger your words could bring. But you swallowed your saliva that had suddenly thickened for no reason "About my missions..."

Your father sighed before glaring at you "Look Y/N, right now the whole world is crumbling down" he hissed as he walked toward you, "Millions of people are in danger!" When he reached you he did something that you couldn't imagine him doing, he grabbed your jaw and slammed your back to the nearest wall "I don't have the time to worry about what is mine! And you, a spoiled brat, can be a virus in my perfect system!" His fingers clenched your jaws hardly as you stared at your father in fear, Bruce was in one of his most dark days and you were unlucky enough to be a victim of the Batman inside him.

Damian was terrified to do anything but watch as your father let go of you and left, leaving you to sink onto the floor, your body frozen in fear and disbelief, your face covered in bruises made by his strong grip, later you'll find out that your jaw had cracked under that pressure but for now you were too busy processing what had happened. Damian rushed to help you, but you stopped him by holding your hand to his small chest, he had duties to do in your father's perfect system, and you didn't want to have that deadly look set upon you ever again, so you pushed him away gently, pointing at his batring that was buzzing.

Damian left you alone despite being worried, but he didn't forget to call for Alfred who would come to help you. Being a Wayne no matter how loved you were, was hard. You had to be the perfect gear in your father's machine, just doing what you were asked to do while your father pulled the strings, and he could hurt you if you were disobedient. Alfred tried to talk to you, but you stared at him like you had met him for the first time, your eyes had opened to the reality you had lived in all your life. All of those lost friends and relatives, those little accidents and destroyed your relationship with many, your life choice being affected by unexpected circumstances, all of that...now you were seeing things in a different light, now you knew.

You were going to get out of your father's sight as soon as you could.

#blue answers #yandere batfamily #yandere batman #yandere #yandere alfred pennyworth #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere robin #yandere bruce wayne #yandere nightwing #yandere tim drake #yandere red hood #yandere jason todd #yandere red Robin #yandere x reader

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zafirosreverie · 1 year

Text

Cuando la veo (Julieta x F!Reader) part 4

Part 1 <<>> next

_________________

She sighed as she reached down for another wooden clasp. It wasn't even her turn to do the laundry, but her mind was so noisy and her head hurt so much that she just couldn't take another day without doing something, so she told Pepa that she would take care of the laundry for her, she had a few towels she needed to clean anyway. Her sister didn't ask and she just went with Bruno to the fields for a picnic. It really hurt her that no one had thought of inviting her, but she told herself that she shouldn't be selfish, her siblings deserved their bonding time.

Agustín was another story.

He no longer spent time with her unless their daughters were present, no longer joked, no longer smiled at her, no longer offered to help her, no longer sang softly for her, he didn’t even said good morning to her, just nodded gratefully as he took the breakfast that was offered to him, he ate in silence and went off to God knew where, appearing only for dinner. She suspected that if it weren't for the situation they were in, he wouldn't even be interested in sleeping with her anymore. She was turning invisible to her husband.

It was terribly painful, that the man who had sworn to spend the rest of his life by her side was slipping into her hands, while she drifted amid a sea of family indifference where little by little her voice faded. She didn't want to, she really didn't, but she was becoming a ghost while she was alive, and she didn't know how to stop it, she didn't know what else she could do.

"That's a very deep sigh, dear, are you okay?"

Julieta tried not to jump too much, even though she felt her soul leaving her body for a moment. She was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't even noticed the shadow that had approached. She quickly turned around to find Laura, who was trying to hide her amusement behind her hand.

"I'm sorry dear, I didn't mean to scare you" the older woman apologized, although her tone was charged with affectionate mockery "I thought you heard me coming"

"It’s okay, Laura" Julieta smiled kindly "I'm sorry, I'm a little distracted today"

"Is it a bad time? I can come back later"

“No, no, it's okay” she said quickly, leaving the clothes in the basket on the floor “is something wrong? Y/N is ok?”

The brunette froze in her place as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She didn't really know why you had suddenly appeared in her mind, it just felt natural, as if deep down, she really had been thinking about you all the time without realizing it.

"I-I mean, I hope she's settling in, you know, making friends and stuff" she quickly added.

She had intended to fix her little slip, but she only seemed to make it worse, at least for herself, because her treacherous mind now couldn't stop picturing you, so beautiful and innocent, meeting new people, probably your age and forgetting about her. She knew she was being silly, that you probably would have already forgotten about her anyway, but for some reason, the thought hurt her.

"Oh, she's fine, thanks for asking" Laura replied, seemingly oblivious to the other's nerves "although the thing about making friends...let's just say it's still in progress."

"Oh?"

“My little girl hasn't really wanted to leave the house much” your aunt admitted “sure, she's met a few people, but nothing beyond warm smiles and polite greetings. Really, I think you're the only one she truly smiled sincerely at."

The confession was terrifying and hopeful in equal parts for the eldest of the Madrigal triplets. On the one hand, it filled her chest with a warm and bright feeling, with an unjustified pride in knowing that she had really left a good impression on you. But it also made her feel bad and guilty, because you shouldn't have that kind of effect on her.

"I don't want her to lock herself up at home, away from everyone" Laura continued, snapping her out of her thoughts "and I thought maybe you could help me."

"Me? What do you need me to do?" the younger answered perhaps a little too quickly, fortunately, the other woman didn't seem to notice, or at least she didn't mention it.

"Well, I was wondering if you could give her cooking lessons?"

"Cooking lessons?"

"Yes, you see, Y/N is really talented in many things, but let's just say that cooking...was never her forte, she can't even get close to hot oil" your aunt smiled fondly "I have no problem cooking for both of us, but I won't be here forever, and she really needs to get out even if it's just to get a little bit of sunlight."

The brunette smiled softly without realizing it, imagining how cute you must look trying to fry something, only to jump when the boiling oil made strange noises. Would you scream like Pepa used to? Or would you go as far as you could like Bruno? Maybe you would use a pan lid as a shield like herself when she was learning to cook at 6. Either way, she was sure you'd look absolutely adorable.

The thought took her by surprise and she mentally sursed for catching herself blushing just thinking of you. She really shouldn't be reacting to you like that, it was inappropriate, it was wrong and she had to stop before embarrassing herself in front of you or Laura.

"Well, I know that the family is busy with the reconstruction, but I can't think of someone better than you to teach her" the older woman continued when she had no response from the other "after all, no one can deny that your food is the best in town, and since she already knows you, I can trust Y/N not to get nervous and try to escape from you" she joked

"I'll take it as a compliment" Julieta laughed, trying to control the treacherous thoughts that invaded her

"You should, you really left a good impression on my girl" Laura smiled knowingly "...although I understand if you're too busy, I wouldn't want to interfere in-"

"No! No, it's fine, I'd love to” the brunette said, definitely stronger than she intended.

"Are you sure dear?" your aunt asked with a raised eyebrow "because I can look for someone else if you-"

"No!"

Laura jumped a little at the other's outburst and Julieta mentally kicked herself for being so impulsive. She really needed to control herself, take a deep breath, and think things through. She knew that perhaps the best thing to do would be to tell the kind woman to find someone else, that she shouldn't get into the eye of the storm when her mind kept thinking inappropriate things about you, but she couldn't help the wave of unwarranted jealousy that washed over her just thinking that someone else could teach you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to raise my voice" she sighed.

"Don't worry" the other smiled maternally "but are you sure you feel well, my dear?"

“Yeah, yeah, I'm just…I'm fine” she lied “when does Y/N want to start?”

"When you say"

"What about tomorrow?" she said, praying the other didn't hear the anxiety in her voice "about 10?"

"Oh, perfect, I'll tell Y/N to be here early" your aunt smiled "thank you very much, Julita"

Julieta simply smiled back, letting her kiss her goodbye with a quick kiss on the cheek, and watched in silence until the other woman disappeared from her sight. If her mind was already spinning and her head ached before, it was definitely getting worse. She didn't want to think about how much she was beginning to wish it was tomorrow, or about the way Laura made her feel safe, the way her own mother hadn't made her feel in months.

"I wish Casita had fallen on me" she sighed and turned to continue with her task.

She knew that if Félix found out she was having those thoughts, he probably wouldn't let her rest, her best friend really hated it when she went into those states of sadness and deep self-loathing, but since he wasn't there and Dolores couldn't give her away anymore, she would allow herself a moment of darkness.

____________________

"Say it"

Julieta sighed. Of course Félix would find out. She really wasn't sure how he had done it, and she was terrified to think that he knew her well enough to know even her deepest thoughts. On the one hand it comforted her that she could tell him anything, but on the other, it embarrassed her because, if he knew about her dark and self-hating thoughts, who said he wouldn't know about the terribly inappropriate thoughts that assailed her when she thought of you?

"Say it"

"Félix-"

"No, you know the rules, say it" he smiled at her mischievously.

"I'm two seconds away from hitting you with this rolling pin" she warned him.

"You can do it later" he shrugged "now say it"

She crossed her arms and stared at him for a few moments before she sighed in defeat. She knew there was no human power to dissuade him when he made that stupidly optimistic face and looked with that hopeful glint in his eyes. The man really was a ray of sunshine at all hours, ready to illuminate everything in his way, and she was grateful for that, even though he was insufferable with her at times.

"I'm so sorry I spoke ill of myself" she said reluctantly.

"And?" he smiled

"And I won't do it again" she rolled her eyes, she felt like a little girl being scolded.

"And?"

"And...I didn't really mean it?"

"AND?"

"What else do you want? I already said it all!" she frowned

"You lacked 'and I have the best friend in the world, who reminds me of the spectacular woman I am, therefore I owe him tasty gossip'" he joked, raising his eyebrows.

"You're an idiot" she laughed and playfully smacked his arm.

"Ouch, that hurt, Madrigal" he laughed "now you definitely owe me a gossip"

"Don't be a crybaby" she scolded him softly "besides, you know I rarely leave this place, I am the least indicated to tell you some gossip”

"I don't know, that visit from Laura looked pretty serious"

Julieta froze in her place, almost dropping the knife she had on her hand. She knew it was logically impossible for him to know the surge of shocking images and feelings he had just evoked in her, but she wasn't entirely sure he didn't either. He always knew everything. Besides, it's not like she hasn't told him about that wonderful day that she met you.

"She just came to ask me something" she said, trying to appear calm, even though her heart was pounding loudly in her ears.

"What?"

“…she just wanted to know if I could give Y/N cooking classes” she said

"Oh? And did you accept?

"Yeah" she shrugged "I'm not helping much in the rebuild anyway, and it'll be a good way to make money"

Felix smiled and watched in silence as his sister-in-law continued with her soft rambling. He was sure she didn't realize it, but he knew her better than anyone, and the way her hands trembled a little as she cut vegetables, or the way she shifted her weight from one leg to the other constantly, told him there was more to what she was telling him.

"Are you sure that's the whole reason?" he gently pressed

Julieta stopped all her movements and closed her eyes for a moment. She really hated the way her mind couldn't seem to pick a single emotion, how could she go from being calm and happy in the company of her best friend, and suddenly feel like crying?

"I-...maybe I feel alone" she admitted softly, sighing "I feel like I'm drowning in this house, Félix, with nothing to do, unable to be with my family because I'm just in the way, unable to reconnect with my siblings because I don't want to take away their time together, without being able to tell my daughters what's happening between me and Agustín…I can't do anything…” she gripped the sink tightly, trying to hold back the tears that were already stinging in her eyes.

"Juli-" Felix stroked her back gently, not knowing how to comfort his friend.

“So I thought…if I can help Y/N even a little bit, even with something small like cooking, then I…wouldn't feel so empty and useless”

"You're not useless, you’re-" he quickly assured her.

"I need to distract myself" she interrupted him "maybe I can think better later"

He looked at her with concern, but he felt that she was not in a position to continue talking about this, that this was not the right time to push her further, so he simply sighed and nodded, squeezing her shoulder gently as a silent support.

"You're right, a distraction would be beneficial" he smiled a little.

Julieta smiled weakly back at him and let him pull her into a warm, comforting hug she hadn't known she needed until this moment. She closed her eyes to concentrate on his familiar scent, not caring that she had to make food, there would be time later. She really didn't want to think about the other reason she'd agreed so quickly: she wanted to see you. That simple and at the same time so complicated for her.

#reader insert #x reader #imagine #julieta x reader #julieta madrigal imagine #julieta madrigal x reader #julieta madrigal #encanto preferences #encanto imagine #encanto x reader #encanto #cuando la veo #clv

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