#like okay even if he only likes white women he blew a kiss to another white girl but went out with zoe anyway

[irregodless]

cant stop thinking about how there was an episode of louder and prouder where they got mad at zoe for going out with a guy they said only dated white women when two of the girls were willing to dump their boyfriends for the guy with lighter skin and eyes

#and like yeah they were right but they were ultimately jealous? #like dramatic irony said we know theyre right but did they have a logical reason to believe that #one of the reasons to support it was literally zoe no one would ever ask YOU out #like okay even if he only likes white women he blew a kiss to another white girl but went out with zoe anyway #so clearly he didnt just latch on to the first white girl he saw slash only one available #like at that point the point should be zoe yeah he likes you but can we reflect on how uncomfortable that makes us and what says about you #as the white friend when youre willing to go along with this #not that he was treating them poorly or anything i dont think but like #honestly i think this could be solved by just literally giving them a reason to believe that #hes a celebrity and they did nothing with that dijonay didnt even try to cancel him on twitter #so have them be like #zoe this dude is notorious for only liking white women and shitting on other poc can you PLEASE introspect on this #or have him do it in person. and then make it a matter of like. zoe being a good friend #do i need to rewrite the episode #the topic matter is good they just wrote it like shit apparently

[lonely-lost-soul]

Withered

Request 1: Technoblade succumbs to the voices and accidentally hurts the reader

-requested by: anonymous

(Technoblade x female reader)

~~~

Everyone had good days and bad days, recently Technoblade’s life had more of those good days thanks to a certain woman who entered his world. She came in like a whirlwind, messing with his emotions to a point which he never dreamed would be possible. When Phil introduced her to him a few years ago, he thought nothing of the women at first. She was ballsy, matching his sarcasm and snark immediately after meeting him. Not to mention beautiful in his opinion, he thought that might be why Phil kept her around at first. Then he saw her metal working abilities and the weapons she created and he fell hard. Especially when he saw the things she could do with gold, god one day when she visited him covered head to toe in gold jewelry...Techno almost jumped her that day. Even if he didn’t fully understand his feelings at the time Phil knew something was up with his mild-mannered friend. He had to break it to Techno in an awkward conversation that spanned twenty minutes that he might have a crush on the girl. Technoblade laughed in his face at the suggestion, it took a raised eyebrow and another visit from her where she was dripping gold that he finally figured out what exactly Phil meant by a crush. 

It took another year of him only falling harder for you to finally ask you on your first date. Now here they were years later completely enamored with one another, though Technoblade was less likely to show it. He was forever the stoic protector but he melted under your touch, the tough man was wrapped around your gold-clad fingers. 

Today, however, was a rare bad day. 

To start it off, Technoblade slept in later than he would’ve liked and woke up with a splitting headache. The voices which were usually a constant hum, sometimes making snide or unhelpful comments were screaming in his ear. Techno tried to fight it, he did. He tried to think of anything else other than the sweet taste of blood and the beautiful sight of gore tainting the white snow outside. He tried to think of your hands caressing his face, or the sweet smell of pomegranates and oak wood that he came to associate with you. Technoblade pressed his palms to his closed eyes and rubbed them in a circle, trying desperately to release the built-up pressure. He let out a puff of air through his nose. As he opened his eyes his pupils shrunk considerably, and they glazed over. Techo’s usual sharp senses felt dull and muddled especially his smell. All he heard was the thousands of voices that demanded blood, immediately needing to be satiated lest he wished to lose himself fully to them. Through their screaming, he heard shuffling downstairs someone was in his house, an intruder. A snarl erupted from his throat as he tore the down comforter away from his body, shredding it in the process sending chicken feathers flying everywhere. 

He tore his cape from its resting place and connected it across his shoulders, he took his sword from its place on the wall. Technoblade gripped the weapon so tight his knuckles turned white, the voices only increasing in their restlessness and volume as he made contact with the sword. They knew blood was near and was about to be spilled. He slid down the ladder effortlessly and into his kitchen, the smell of bread was seemingly so strong it assaulted his dulled nostrils. Narrowing his eyes he noticed movement in the kitchenette, 

A figure stood there seemingly unbothered by his presence, the voices demanded blood and who was he to deny them their sacrifice.

Bottles and plates fell to the floor and shattered as he charged at the figure. He knocked over the table and more things thudded to the ground, in his wake. The person stumbled back but it didn’t matter, Technoblade would catch them and gut them for even thinking about entering his home. He pulled his sword back a deep growl rumbling in his throat, the person let out a sound and Technoblade put his hand around their throat. Squeezing down, successfully cutting off their airflow, the hands reached up and he felt their nails dig into the skin of his hand. He only smiled wider as the voices urged him to continue, loving the way the intruder was wiggling and desperate against his hand. Even as he felt blood pool on his own hand from their fingernails he still had satisfaction in seeing them suffer. The figure was completely and utterly at the piglins mercy, he lifted them into the air seeing their legs begin to kick out as they dangled. Technoblade leaned forward, thousands of voices chanted the same phrase in his head, 

    “Blood for the blood god,” He spit at the figure as he drove his sword into their chest they let out a scream of agony. Their face twisted up but even through that, they grabbed at the back of Techno’s head, bringing it down and into the side of their neck. 

Pomegranates and oak flooded his senses, and the voices were immediately silenced. They were silenced almost shamefully as the fog cleared in his mind and the figure materialized in front of him. As his senses returned, his pupils blew back to their normal shape and size and he was brought back to the reality of the situation by loud, gurgled choking. His head snapped back and he locked eyes with yours, face blue and splotchy, blood dribbling down your chin. 

     “Tech...no…” 

     “Heh? What…? Princess? Princess!…(Y/n)...no...NO!” His eyes widened in frantic despair removing the hand from around your neck, you let in a gulp of much-needed air into your lungs. He caught you before you could fall, his entire body was shaking in a way he didn’t know it could, for once in his life he was scared. His sword was still embedded in your chest, even through his panic, he knew taking it out would only make everything worse in the long run. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” His big hands cupped your face brushing the hair out of your eyes, sweat was sticking to your forehead as your face scrunched up in agony. “I know baby, I know. It hurts, I’m sorry…hang in there for me my dear one,”  Techno rested you down on the ground on your back watching you wince once more. He stood up, desperately needing to get his spare health potions and bandages. He was tugged back a little by his cape. He knelt back down to look at you in the eyes, they scrunched up in the way he loved so much when you smiled. 

Why were you smiling? This was not the time to smile! 

     “Don’t le...ave. St...ay?” 

     “Oh, Princess. Don’t be cringe okay? I’ll be back I need to get you health potions and bandages. I’ll be right back, I love you.” Technoblade sputtered, out in a panic. Although his words were nothing but the truth; Technoblade loved you more than the stars in the sky. If you asked him to he’d find a way to gift the stars to you in a heartbeat.  

     “Lo...ve you too.” He felt you release his cape and he bolted gathering all the materials he could need to heal your wound. Stumbling back into the room he dumped his supplies onto the floor and knelt beside you, he gently caressed your cheek. 

     “I need to pull the sword out, here.” He handed you a thick piece of cloth, “Bite down for me okay?” He watched you nod and stick the cloth in your mouth, and bite down onto the fabric. He grabbed the hilt of the sword and yanked it out of you in one go, he tossed it across the floor like it scalded his skin. Your back arched in pain, tears weld up in your eyes as you let out a pitiful-sounding moan. In another situation that was much more intimate, he might’ve found your body language insanely attractive. He moved quickly putting pressure on the wound as blood bubbled up from the gash in your chest, it reminded him of Wilbur’s wound, he shook his head pushing the thought away. You weren’t like Wilbur you weren’t going to die and certainly not by his fucked up hand.

He wouldn’t let you. 

     “Good girl. You’re being such a good girl, please hang in there.” He pleaded grabbing the needle and the stitching thread, he quickly dipped the needle in antiseptic, “another deep breath for me.” He commanded you, once again he watched you nod before having the needle enter your skin. Whines of pain spilled from your throat, you tried your best to be as still as humanly possible and Technoblade commended you for your efforts. Eventually, it was stitched closed and Techno put gauze over the stitching to make sure it was protected. Tears were rolling down your cheeks as Technoblade turned to look at you, now he could tend to your less serious wounds. The bruising around your neck was dark and splotchy and in the shape of his hands, he felt guilt tear at his heart once again. He uncorked the regeneration potion and put your head in his lap, he gently removed the rag and poured the contents down your throat. Techno watched as you immediately relaxed in his arms breathing evening out only slightly, you’d certainly need way more than just one potion. 

Technoblade let out a sigh of relief gently cradling you in his arms, you immediately snuggled into them and he melted. He made sure to wipe away any tears that still spilled from your beautiful eyes. You were going to be alright, but he’d never forgive himself for hurting you, he’d spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to you if you chose to stay by his side. He carried you up to his bedroom and was taken aback by the number of feathers floating around the air. He’d need a new down comforter too now? Why was he such a monster in this state? He laid you down on the bed kissing your forehead lightly, you weakly leaned into the kiss and smiled up at him through lidded eyes.

     “Get some rest,” Technoblade whispered “I’m going to make some more potions and call Phil. If you need me just shout, I won’t be far.” He watched you nod sleepily as he tucked you into more blankets. He swallowed thickly reluctantly turning away from you and heading back down the ladder. After all, he was starting to smell the stench of burning bread, which was unpleasant. He descended and immediately frowned miserably at the sight before him, everything was trashed. Glass and porcelain littered the floor as well as a ruined breakfast that you were clearly in the process of making for the both of them. His favorite too, he stepped carefully over the mess and pulled the bread out of the oven with your oven mitts. He was right it was unsalvageable he sighed opening the window and tossing it outside for something else to devour if they saw fit. Sending a quick message to Phil that he needed help and as many regeneration potions that he had, he hoped he didn’t freak the old man out too much. 

Technoblade rolled up his sleeves and got to cleaning up his mess. By the time Phil flew in most of the mess was cleaned up, but the old man looked frantic, he had an entire bag filled with potions with him. 

     “What’s wrong? Who’s hurt?” Were the first questions out of his mouth, “Is (Y/n) alright?”

Technoblade’s jaw clenched and he refused to look anywhere but at Phil.

      “Techno?” 

     “I lost control, Phil. Hurt her...the voices were so loud. I stabbed her, she almost died because of me.” His voice cracked a little as his hands clenched and shook at his sides, Phil bit his lip before hesitantly reaching out to wrap Technoblade in a hug. Surprisingly he melted in Phil’s arms rather easily, 

     “She knows you didn’t mean it mate…” He spoke softly rubbing circles on his lower back, “she’ll forgive you-”

     “But that’s the problem! She shouldn’t! This could happen again but this time I won’t be able to snap out of it. I could kill her, and that would kill me.” 

     “But she will because she loves you.” Phil placed his hands on his friend’s shoulders pulling away from him, “we’ll come up with a plan. Talk about what happened this time, what possibly triggered it, and what snapped you out of it. You aren’t hopeless mate. We’ll fix this, (Y/n), and I are here for you no matter what, remember that.” Techno dragged his hands down his cheeks and gave a small nod of understanding. “Now, take these potions to her and stay by her side. I’ll finish cleaning up and guard against any other dangers alright? You just worry about helping (Y/n) get better.” 

     “Alright…” Techno murmured taking the bag of potions from his friend before ascending the ladder back to you. You were asleep, your breathing was soft and shallow but you were alive at least. Gently, he splashed the potions on top of you, you were completely knocked out not even feeling the splash potion. He shucked off his cape hanging it back up against the wall, he made quick work of collecting all of the feathers that he could put away. He lifted the covers off you and crawled into bed by your side, he gently wrapped his arms around you careful of your wound. He cradled you gently kissing the side of your neck, still asleep you cuddled yourself more into his body heat. He brushed your hair behind your ear and rested his chin on the top of your head. From now on he’d make sure to be better, better for you, better for Phil, and better for himself. He’d protect you through thick and thin and if anyone dared hurt you again he’d rip them apart, and god forbid if he hurt you again. He’d never forgive himself. This couldn’t happen again, he wouldn’t let it. Even if he had to give up all his lives trying, you were his Princess after all.

~~~

Hope you enjoyed and it met up to your expectations! Next up is C!Philza simping over reader!

#technoblade x reader #technoblade #dreamsmp x reader #dreamsmp x you #dreamsmp drabbles #dream smp #technoblade x you #technoblade imagines #technoblade drabble #technoblade drabbles #Blood for the Blood God #mcyt x reader #mcyt #mcyt x you #minecraft youtubers #minecraft youtubers x reader #minecraft fanfiction #minecraft x reader #minecraft x you #request #requests #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader

[littlefreya]

Poison Honey

Summary: Everyone around you is too busy getting drunk and making out, while you are just dying for this dreadful Christmas party to be over. But just as you plan to leave, you catch the eye of a very hungry August Walker.

Pairing: August Walker x Reader (2nd pov)

Word count: 1K

Warnings: Passion, romance, sexual innuendo, a “thrill of the chase” if this may trigger anyone and mild alcohol use.  

A/N: Okay this Christmas drabble came to me in a dream a month ago, and I had to write it down but waited for today to post it. Many thanks to the love of my life @agniavateira​ who did my beta so quickly! 

Title: Poison Honey

Festive fairy tea lights were strung across the concrete office walls, resembling little flakes of gold over gloom and sparks floating from a pyre. Their aura lit fervent bodies clung together, shining over the grinding and touching figures as they danced to the upbeat Christmas carols that played in a volume so high you could hardly hear yourself think.

It was nothing more but a smouldering den of sin, an orgy of delights. 

Standing at a distant corner with a glass of spicy-sweet sangria pressed to your lips, you watched the massive hall, unable to take part in the sweaty horde that pranced around the golden calf.

You weren’t happy this time of the year, but then again, you never were satisfied. It’s not that life was mundane; it’s just that it existed with no meaning, and these sort of cheap thrills left you shaken. 

Because even though you wanted to take a chance and be that bad girl, deep inside, you knew you could never be one of them. 

A sigh left your lips. Waiting for the appropriate time to depart without having people talk about your introversion later, you downed your drink while deflecting the numerous attempts of Debbie from accounting to drag you into the fuss. 

It was then that you realised, you were not the only one standing alienated from the crowd. 

Funny, you’ve always assumed that a man like Agent Walker would be the first to go balls-deep in at least two women tonight. But he seemed far more enthralled in spying on everyone else and like he was having a good time watching everyone else fuck up.

His eyes burnt with blue flames that laved over many skulls before it slowly licked upon your sight. And as if you could feel both fire and ice ascending in your tendons, a shiver crawled down your back. Languidly, he traced your form. Stroking his moustache briefly, Agent Walker raised the glass of bourbon perched in his hand and gave a small tilt of recognition as if you understood one another though you’ve never spoken before. 

The last drop of sangria couldn’t quench the sudden dryness that formed in your throat. As your anxiety spiked, you did what you knew best and twirled your feet, pretending you had to go somewhere. 

Anywhere.

What were you so afraid of? Living? 

Squeezing the purse in your palm, you hurried to find the jacket left abandoned on your desk. Drunk and sultry, your co-workers swarmed every corner like zombies in a horror flick, and the sounds of passionate lovemaking reverberated through the corridors. Somewhere, in one of the glass-enclosed offices, two colleagues were indulging in a carnal dance.

Agent Walker was no longer in sight, still it resonated in your mind that he was stalking through every passage. Heat bubbled in your belly and between your reaching thighs, the tepid dew began to gather. Maybe you wanted to be chased... And perhaps you desired August Walker to catch you.  

Trying to brush these pesky thoughts away, you finally grabbed your coat and headed towards the exit. The calming warmth one feels when arriving at a shelter began to sink down your sternum. A few steps more, and you were to be safe.

But hope blew off like a candle in a ghastly wind. 

August’s shoulders were broad enough to block any way out as he stood at the pathway. His excessively muscular arms were crossed together, biceps so large they were bigger than your head. His steel-blue shirt looked as if it was about to pop and expose what you could only imagine as the epitome of virility.

The shuddering gasp that escaped you didn’t go unnoticed; he smirked with triumph before his eyes slowly levitated above your head and focused on the ceiling.

“Lucky me,” he chimed, his voice a low and melodic growl that felt like a claw cinched around your heart. 

Skin riddled with goosebumps you followed his gaze, the chill increasing as your mind already processed what you feared to grasp.

The mistletoe was hanging right over your head. 

August’s beguiling smile cut into his left cheek, darkness poisoning his lips. He made a large step forward, easily closing the remaining distance. Yes, you knew he was handsome, but up close, his beauty was ethereal: eyes like precious gems and a strong chin that made every other man look stale. His pouty lips parted as he looked down at you. A small flinch marred your face as he reached a hand to the small of your back.

“Will I get a kiss? Or will you doom me with bad luck?”

Thunderstorms struck the strings of your heart, and in your ears, you felt the throb. If August hadn’t held you in his arms, you would be on the floor by now as your legs wouldn’t cease their jittering.

Fear, desire, and the menacing anxiety of doing something completely outrageous toyed you like a marionette. Before you even realised it your mouth fell open and August leaned in, bourbon and candy on his breath. His whiskers and plump lips touched you first, brushing over so gently it was barely a kiss. Innocently he caressed your mouth before his tongue slithered into your hot cavern and tasted you with a devouring yearning. 

He crushed you; his hard pecs collided with your breasts, turning muscle and bones into a liquid thing for him to manipulate. As he pillaged your mouth, a guttural groan made its way down your entire body and ended fluttering at your womb. 

It felt empyreal, you wanted more. Melting into his steady form, you began to picture his warm body naked above yours, imagining what’s beneath his crisped shirt and ironed tie. You wondered of the size of his manhood and how these soft, lips would taste the plains of your body when he slowly broke the kiss, ending it with a tender groan that vibrated at your mouth.

Breathless, you stared at him, utterly distraught and hastily turning upset. Shame burnt white-hot, tingling across every living cell in your body. Not saying a word you pushed right past him and hurried toward the elevator. 

“Guess I’ll see you around...?” He asked behind you, with a definite victory in his voice.

Ignoring his remark you quickly disappeared to the elevator, thankful as the silver doors closed in your face and rescued you at the last moment. Your heart still rumbled in your chest as if begging to rip itself out and in your mouth lingered a honey-like flavour. 

Clueless fingers outlined the electric tingle over your lips; it was only a kiss, yet everything felt different after tonight. 

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #august walker #august walker x reader

[authornina]

Dalonte “DALY” Dennis: (TEK)

***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***

Daly shook his head listening to his sisters go back and forth about dumb shit. It seemed like they always waited until he came around to bring up niggas. He never intruded on their personal lives because he’d instilled enough in them to know what to do and what not to do. He had been on his own with them since he could remember. Daly was only ten years old roaming the streets looking for food to feed them. Life didn’t give him much of a choice to live another way. His mother left everything up to him, so he had to do anything to survive. At first it was just he and TJ, then two more girls came, and his mother literally dropped them off home to him. Daly cared for infants alone being just a baby himself.

They were on their way to the airport to pick up the baby of the three, Erie. She went away to college four years ago and this would be her first time back in Philly since graduating. They visited her a lot, but they were all happy to have her in the same state as them again. He was so proud of Erie for sticking it out and finishing college. At first, she would beg to come home. She even threatened to drop out several times. Daly spoiled Erie the most so during each one of her breakdowns he flew to Atlanta where she attended Spelman to talk her down.

All three of his sisters even being raised by him like straight niggas turned out to be great women despite their foul ass mouths and no-nonsense ass attitudes. People always said how pretty they were until witnessing one of them in action. Daly was a cool brother to have but he sometimes was too hard on himself thinking he could’ve done better with them and their emotions. He didn’t know how to raise children let alone girls but over the years he learned so much about women, more than he actually wanted to know. 

TJ was the oldest and she owned a popular hair salon. She was the wildest and most outspoken. Daly had to bail her out of jail several times, primarily for domestic disputes with her lovers. She was openly bisexual and came out to him when she was sixteen, saying if Daly didn’t accept her for who she was, he could kiss her ass. Of course, no matter what he loved his sister. TJ was five-eight, with tan skin covered by tattoos. She had them everywhere. None of them knew their fathers and Daly assumed she was biracial off her features and TJ didn’t like that. So, the long curly black hair she once had as a girl which made her ambiguity more apparent was shaved off and she chose to wear all types of colorful wigs. She was beautiful either way with her natural hunter green eyes and freckled rosy cheeks. Despite her lifestyle and appearance, TJ went to church a lot. She’d been that way since she was just a child. Always telling Daly she had them all covered on the prayer tip, so they were good. She believed the Lord protected her big brother the many nights he had to go out and do what needed to be done for them. TJ had a huge and loving heart she just didn’t have the patience for bullshit.

Ta’Kia, whom everyone simply called Kia was the calmest when considering the three of them. She didn’t bother anyone unless they bothered her. It was a different story if she knew you though, you wouldn’t be able to shut her ass up. She went to college in state at West Chester where she met her white boyfriend that she stressed out regularly. Kia was also fair skin and four-eleven of feistiness. Daly knew whoever her father was had to be black. She had 4C hair and to him that meant straight nigga. He learned all about the different types of hair black women had over the years. He didn’t assume they couldn’t have loose coils in general, but his sister came from nigga nuts with the shit that sat on top of her head. Kia kept it in all types of natural styles. She was the earthy vegan type. No man-made chemicals could touch her person and she only ate what she grew. She wore very little clothing often, even when it was cold with beads around her waist, lots of rings on her fingers and she had two nose rings and a septum. Daly didn’t know where the hell that aesthetic came from but again, he supported his sisters through whatever.  

Then there was Erieon, Erie for short, Daly’s baby. TJ and Kia didn’t give into her spoiled ass the way he did. If you asked them, their little sister was selfish, stubborn and plain old evil. Erie had a bad attitude, worse than all of three put together and never liked to admit when she was wrong. The only person she didn’t get out the way with was Daly. Erie was the surprise baby and the most beautiful little dark doll he’d ever seen when his mother first dropped her off. He fell in love with her the moment he had to take her on. By then he’d become an expert at caring for infants. Erie stood out because amongst her sisters she shined like chocolate satin. While her sisters rocked baldies and bushes, Erie loved box braids, and any other type of style that hung pass her butt in individuals. Everything about her was gorgeous. She was the most regular physically but personality wise, Daly had a time with that one. Sometimes he thought she had some mental health issues but seeing Lake go through so much and learning what he could, he swore his sister wasn’t that damaged. Couldn’t be. He simply gave her whatever she wanted and hoped it never went further than having temper tantrums.

When Daly was just a child, if it weren’t for Hassan, he and his sisters would be separated and spread out through the system. It was one of the reasons Daly was so loyal to Lake. Hassan made sure they never had to worry about being taken from one another. The house they lived in, he bought it and fixed it up. They had food and clean clothes every day. When his mother would try to come and interrupt the peace they finally had, Hassan made sure she didn’t any longer. Whatever bad shit people had to say about the late Hassan Porter, he and his sisters were blinded by the fact that he was the only adult to give a fuck about them. Even his mother’s sister didn’t offer a helping hand when she knew how they were living. Hassan didn’t ask any questions or want any answers. He saw a problem and fixed it. Never made Daly feel ashamed or embarrassed either.  

Once at the busy airport, they didn’t even have to park to meet Erie inside. She was sitting outside on her luggage with an obvious attitude.

“Here her ass go with the bullshit,” Kia said getting out the car. She hugged her resistant baby sister while Daly kissed her cheek before getting her stuff. TJ didn’t even get out the car because she was the least interested in what had her mean ass mad already. 

“What’s wrong, Erieon?” Daly asked once they were all back in the car. 

“Nothing.” 

“Erie! Stop bein’ a fuckin’ brat!” TJ turned around to her sister who was in the back seat now with her arms crossed and face balled up. “You always do that like somebody supposed to know what you thinkin’.” 

“Leave me alone.” 

“Erie, what’s wrong?” Daly asked her in a gentle tone making TJ and Kia roll their eyes.

“The flight was just annoying. I don’t like being around people.” 

“I’m sure people don’t like being around your evil ass either,” TJ said. “I’ma pray for you on Sunday demon.” She held the cross around her neck then pulled out a little bottle and splashed Erie. 

“Don’t put that saltwater on me!” 

“You need Jesus!” 

“TJ, stop,” Kia laughed. “Stay sprinkling people with your lil holy water.” 

“She think cause she got baptized that she still not going to hell,” Erie said, wiping her face. “Newsflash, you eat pussy, that’s a sin!” 

“Yo!” Daly yelled. “I don’t wanna hear that shit. All y’all shut the fuck up!” 

Why did he say that? All hell broke loose. They started shouting obscenities his way and he blew his breath wishing he went alone to begin with. Daly loved his sisters to absolute death, but they were a damn handful. How anybody dated one was beyond him. Man or woman. 

“Wit your big head ass!” TJ mushed him. “Don’t be talkin’ to us like that!” 

“I’m stayin’ with you TJ,” Erie said. They were the two who got along the least, but her sister was the most freeing to be around and let her do anything. Even though she was going on twenty-three, Kia and Daly treated her like a baby.

“Then you better act like you know, I ain’t for the walkin’ around my shit with no attitude! And I don’t clean up after grown muhfuckas.” 

“Why you don’t want your own shit?” Daly asked.

“Because I don’t wanna be alone,” Erie said low. “TJ lays with me when I need her.” 

“I can lay with you,” Daly said.

“You never be home.”

Erie saying that made Daly feel bad. If he wasn’t there often it’s because he couldn’t be and when he wasn’t, they had to take care of each other. They didn’t intentionally make him feel bad about it, they simply were dealt a shitty hand. No mother and their brother couldn’t be around due to the fact that he was the provider. It all affected each of them in different ways. 

“I lay with you too.” 

“Kia, your bed bout as big as this back seat. Then you like to sleep on the floor,” Erie said, and they all started laughing. 

Daly gave his sisters the range to live much more extravagant, but Kia didn’t want to. She liked her open space loft, mattress on the floor, no curtains, plants from wall to windows, three pairs of shoes and garden full of natural foods. TJ wanted to work for her own money, so she started a business. Erie was the only one who happily ran through his pockets like no tomorrow. He was okay with him being their backup plan if they ever needed or wanted it.

“Says the homeless one,” Kia rolled her eyes.

“By choice,” Erie retorted. 

After Daly took his sisters out then dropped them all off, he stopped at his old apartment. His phone was ringing off the hook and the only calls he returned were Lake, Wreck and Roddy. Mansion called him about fifty times. When those went unanswered, the texts started. 

Mansion: I know you with another bitch, since you wanna ignore me for her. Stay there, and don’t call me ever again with your hoe ass! 

Mansion: Bitch ass nigga! You really wanna cheat on me? And I bet she don’t look like shit! 

Mansion: I was fuckin’ somebody else anyway!

Mansion: I’m gettin’ a abortion!

Daly ignored each one. Mansion would say anything to get him to argue with her. At first it was funny, but now, he was a little tired of the constant back and forth. It was childish but that’s what he got for messing with a twenty-one-year-old. 

“What?” he asked, finally answering for her.

“Put your bitch on the phone.” 

“I ain’t wit no bitch.” 

“Right, you a hoe ass liar! Come get me right now.” 

“Fuck no! Go tell the nigga you was fuckin’ to get your crazy ass.” 

“I was just sayin’ that,” Mansion whined. “I love you.”

“Obviously,” Daly responded sarcastically and they both started laughing. “You gotta chill bro.” 

“My anger just get the best of me, you know I would never step out on you.” 

“I’m not comin’ tonight, I got shit to do.” 

“Like what?” 

“Shit.” 

“You lyin’.” 

“When the fuck do I ever have to lie? If I’ma be with another bitch, I would tell you.” 

“See that’s what I’m talkin’ bout, the disrespect! I’m not about to let you play in my face with no ugly ass hoe!” 

“Who ugly, Mansion?” 

“SHADIA!” she screamed, and Daly hollered. His on again off again girlfriend for years grinded Mansion’s gears. “You need to tell that dog face bitch you love me and it’s over.” 

“I told her that.” 

“Then why she still feel comfortable to go around talkin’ about my nigga? Why THE FUCK is she postin’ you on her Instagram?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You know because you keep givin’ that hoe hope!” 

“Ion give nobody shit,” Daly looked at his phone beeping. “Hold on, I’ma call you right back.” He didn’t wait for a response to click over for his sister. “Yea TJ?” 

“Come get Erie before I fuck her up!” 

“What she do that damn fast?” 

“I comes the fuck in my room and her ass changin’ shit around in MY HOUSE!”

“You got it ugly in here!” he heard Erie yell in the back. “Everything don’t gotta be green!” 

“DALONTE!” TJ shouted. “Come get your sister! NOW! Jesus be a high ass fence for Erieon…” she started her prayer for forgiveness then Daly heard a bunch of ruckus. He hung up on everybody tired of dealing with women for one day. It wasn’t even five o’clock yet. He got all the bags out of his trunk and went inside the apartment building. 

When he put his key in the door Tracy was standing right there with an attitude. Out of all the bitch fits, he was least interested in hers. He didn’t tell his sisters about their mother staying there and that’s why he moved because it would upset them. TJ mostly. She hated Tracy to no ending. 

“The fuck you standing there for waitin’ like you caught me cheatin’ or something?” 

“Because you leave me in this place, alone! I ain’t got no phone, no communication to the outside world—” 

“Man, fuck outta here,” Daly said, closing the door. “You lucky you got this.”

“I want to see my children, Dalonte!” 

“They don’t wanna see you.” 

Daly’s mother was a rehabilitated crackhead and ex-prostitute. He wouldn’t have offered her a place to stay but she was currently pregnant and had the nerve to tell him she wanted to do right for her baby. 

“Well it ain’t they choice, y’all is muthafuckin’ kids to me! I don’t care what we been through! I am your mother!” 

“You ain’t shit, Tracy.” Daly took all the bags in the kitchen. “Here, all the shit you wanted. Fuckin’ prenatal vitamins,” he threw them at her. “I know your ass ain’t do none of this shit with us! You want my sisters to see this shit?” He started pouring all the stuff out. “You got it in you to finally care about one of your kids.” 

“He is y’all little brother,” Tracy said, palming her stomach with tears in her eyes. Her oldest child hated her so she knew it couldn’t have been any better with the other three but not seeing them for so long hurt her heart. When she came to him, he didn’t even care at first. They owed her nothing and as a mother Tracy wished she could take every ounce of pain she caused them back. 

“I almost said fuck him too,” Daly laughed, and Tracy smiled. Her son loved her; she knew this because he could be really cold when he wanted to be. There had been times she’d been on the other end of it. 

“I’m sorry for putting all of this on you, if I had another option, I would’ve chosen it. I know it’s not easy seeing me like this,” Tracy expressed to her son sincerely. 

“Whatever, I’m out, I gotta go break up a fight between your kids.” 

“Can you at least tell them I miss them?” 

“I’ll think about it.” Daly closed the door in her face. He stood with his back against the door feeling the way he did when he was younger. So many times, she would even watch him struggle with his sisters. Tracy would be home while he was trying to figure out a way to provide for them. Here she was pregnant again with another baby and needed her son all over again. Déjà vu.

#OnUs #authornina #Nina

[thebeebi]

your little games pt. 2

pairing: Jungkook x reader

warnings: smut, fluff in later chapters, non-con, mention of r*pe attempt, implied murder and many more! Read only if you are okay with these topics!

genre: historical AU, 18th century?

word count: 2.5k+ [part 2]

a/n: I am not really sure if you wanted the part 2 but I for sure did!!! Enjooooy! ♥

You ran away from the man who tried to take an advantage of you. You stabbed him and escaped. Escaped to the arms of the handsome captain who was even worse than the man you just killed.

Part 1 

Jungkook did not understand what was the reason for you being like this. Your behaviour and manners were ones of an easy woman, but your hands that are pale and untouched showed that you were a lady who had never lifted a finger. He shook his head and wore a white shirt that he took off last just an hour ago. He walked towards the table and poured himself a glass of wine. When he was about to reach for it, he changed his mind and took into his hands bottle of brandy that was often his best companion. He gulped some of the leftover alcohol in the bottle while looking out of the window. He wasn’t from this little town. He was there just to ship some furniture that was ordered by a wealthy man. His parents used to love this town and often took him there considering it as a family vacation. But Jungkook never came back after their death. It was his first time back in 10 years. Jungkook’s father was an adventurer who raised his child strictly. On the other hand, Jungkook’s mother was his supporting pillar that mended Jungkook’s and his father’s relationship. Jungkook knew about the tough unfair world. Since he was a child, he preferred studying, but his father wanted him to be able to sail around so he sent him to an old captain – his friend, who taught Jungkook things that he knows now. Even though Jungkook loved sailing, he knew this was the last one of his adventures. His parents left him a huge mansion with a huge wine orchard. Jungkook knew he wanted to work with wine and that was the reason he did not sail that often. The winery was the centre of his attention. He was 25 years old man, who was already eligible for marrying. He wished he would be happy for the rest of his life. He smiled and shook his head, thinking that love for his mansion and the winery will make him do foolish things, that his heart did not approve. He wanted to get married to Elisabeth Buck who he did not love but had to marry in order to get back land that belonged to his family years ago.

Jungkook frowned at the thought of his possible future wife. His family was always known to be possessive of their loved ones. He knew how jealous his father would get if his mother shown even a tiny bit of interest in someone else than his father. He was weirded out by that because he was exactly the same copy of his father and the woman he wanted to marry had in the bed new man every night. But Jungkook somehow did not care. He wished there would be at least a tiny bit of jealousy, that would show him he had any feelings for the Elisabeth, but nothing. He knew her since childhood and was well aware that his feelings for her will not change. His friends called him crazy once they knew Jungkook asked her to marry him. Even if the jealousy was not inherited, Jungkook was sure he was stubborn just like his father. He was ready to get married just for the wealth and his family’s name.

Captain looked at his bed and walked closer to you. The sobs were getting quieter until they stopped completely. He knew you fell asleep, but it was no calm sleep. It reminded him of the sleep of an exhausted person. He bowed down and took blanket into his hands to cover you properly, uncovering your face, letting the fresh air getting to you. The last thing he was expecting in his cabin was a virgin. He knew they were problematic and that was the reason why he tried to avoid them all his life. He preferred spending time with skilled ones who were enjoying their life to the fullest without any worries. They could have been from a brothel or not, cheap or expensive. Jungkook did not care. This was his first night in the docks after a long time spent on the ocean. From the crew, only his servant Jimin and Taehyung stayed aboard that night. He felt horny after many nights without a companion, so he asked Jimin to find him someone for a quickie who was not filthy and very charming. Jungkook wasn’t expecting a virgin who was more beautiful than any other woman he had seen before. It was a miracle that they found you. A young innocent girl who was just turning into a woman. Normally women like that think about the marriage and with their innocence are trying to lure some a man into the trap with their beauty. How else would Jungkook be still single, if he did not try to avoid them as a devil avoids the holy water? But now, when he had to get married to the woman who slept with half of the male population of his town, he wanted to try something else. To refresh his tastes in women but he still could not understand what were your reasons for doing this job. He shook his head and took of the white shit again. He walked closer towards the table and blew out the candle. Jungkook once again looked at your body and then slowly laid down next to you. The last thing he thought about before he fell asleep was the gentle fragrance of your body and the warmth which was radiating from it.

When the first sun rays reached into the cabin, you felt them on your face and sat up straight away, waking up from the slumber. You looked around and then you got reminded of the events of the last night. Jungkook who was sleeping next to you had his arm over your bust, but as you sat up, his arm slid down on your thighs. You could feel the weight of something on your legs and when you looked down, you saw his left leg being crossed over your small body. You tried to squirm away without being noticed, but your movement woke Jungkook up. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, so you took it as a cue to lay down again, pretending to be asleep. When he finally opened his eyes, the first thing he decided to look at was your face. To him, it was a beautiful sight. He loved the way you looked now, but even more when you were laying beneath him last night. Jungkook softly caressed your cheekbones with his thumbs and realised that his fiancé would be really jealous of your beauty. He laughed at the possibility of you two meeting. Elisabeth is proud of her beauty, and Jungkook knew she would despite standing next to even more beautiful woman than she was. His fiancé was proclaimed as the most beautiful woman in the town, even though there were many beauties. Jungkook never noticed it though, but people were probably right. Her face and hair were pretty, and her tall body was indeed attractive. Jungkook thought about the woman who he promised he would marry but then again looked at you sleeping next to him. If you were to come to his hometown, then they would for sure forget about Elisabeth’s beauty.

Jungkook bowed down a little to kiss your ear and nibbled it a little. You widened your eyes quicky before you could realise what was Jungkok doing. “Good morning, little one,” he whispered softly and tried to reach for your lips with his own. You were still, not trying to make any movement, being scared that if you would do anything, it would only provoke him. But Jungkook did not need it, the memories of last night were still raw and he was ready for another round. He was kissing your lips softly, but then moved to your eyes, the neck and headed towards the shoulder, where he stayed for a bitting you softly. The shiver ran down your spine as you saw Jungkook looking for the nipple and started licking it slowly, making small kitten but very passionate licks. “Don’t!“ you silently shouted, “Don’t do that!” Jungkook looked at you and the lust in his eyes was evident. “You will have to get used to this, little one.” You wanted to run away from his amused look, so the only thing you could do was turn your head to the side and beg. “No. Please, not. Don’t do that. Don’t hurt me again. Let me go.”

“I will not hurt you this time, little one.” He exhaled near your ear, which he was kissing softly. He covered you with his body as you were trying to push him away. You tried to press your legs together and to scratch him, just to make sure he would stop. Jungkook laughed as he loved the way you protested. “You have more strength now than you had last night,” he grabbed both of your arms pulling them up and then locking them in his grasp above your head. He managed to keep your arms above with one hand and slid the other down to your left breast to play with it. You kept on resisting, trying to push him away, but it was all in vain. With a swift move of his knee, he separated your pressed legs and you could feel him once again deep inside.

This time you did not cry, you had no tears left. Instead the hate and fear appeared within you. When he finished, he pulled away from you and you took that as a cue to clew up yourself by hugging your legs close to your chest. When Jungkook looked into your eyes, he frowned and sat next to you. He reached in to caress your cheek because he was feeling that he had to calm you down, but when you moved to the side, to avoid his touch, Jungkook was confused and stopped. His eyes widened as he realised that you were not pretending and were actually scared of him. He frowned even more and instead of your face, he reached for your hair, to entangle a fallen strand in his finger. “You are really something, little one.” He whispered softly. “You could have gotten a large sum of money for what you lost with me tonight. Anyone would be willing to pay you a lot for that but you still chose to be a prostitute and as I have heard, you came with my men willingly, not even trying to talk about the price or anything. You never told me that you were a virgin and did not try to ask for more.” He let go or your trembling body and continued: “The dress that you wore was expensive, some woman from the street would have to work for a year to get them. I am sure you are of high status, but I cannot explain why would you offer your virginity on the street. Someone could have raped you and you would lose it just like that.” You sit up a little and looked at him, not understanding what he was trying to say.“It looks like you are coming from a good family. You are beautiful, you have an expensive dress but still…” Jungkook grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to him. “ But you still chose to do this.” He softly caressed your palm and then lightly pressed kiss on the place he just touched. “When you came in yesterday, you were calm and willing, but now you were trying to push me away, not letting me be gentle to you.” It was only then when you realised, that he was not one of the men from yesterday.

Oh Gosh! You gasped as you thought about the price you paid for your fear. You then realised you should have waited for the judgement right at that place where you killed the man or just stayed in the poverty where you were trying to run away from. At least you would have not lost your virginity. “It is okay, Y/N. Don’t be afraid. I will take care of you and you will live in comfort. I arrived just yesterday and I will stay for a while. While I will be here, you will be my companion. I will take care of you and will make sure that you have your own house while I’ll-“

He was interrupted by your sudden burst of laughter. It was hysterical laughter that came out of nowhere when you realised what was the situation you were in. The huge smile on your face soon changed into sobs and tears started running down your cheeks. You looked down but suddenly shot your head up to look at the confused Jungkook.  “ I wasn’t selling myself on the streets. I just got lost.“ The captain frowned being silenced by the confession. “But you went with my men willingly,” he interrupted you and you just shook your head to sides. “I thought they were sent to look for me.” When Jungkook did not continue, you realised he does not know about your sin. He does not know about what you committed yesterday and why you were running away. “Aren’t your parents worried?“ You shook your head once again. “No, they died a long time ago. I am living with my aunt. But she does not care about me much.” You whispered the last sentence and whipped your tears away. “Then I do not see the reason, Y/N, why you could not stay with me and become my lover. I will find you a house where you could live happily and when I come here, I will spend time with you there. I will give you a large amount of money so you would not have to look for other men, than myself. Well, I would not let you do that anyways and once if I decide to come back here and will need woman companion, I will just go to you. It is a win-win for both of us.”

You silently stood up and got dressed in the clothes he met you in yesterday. For almost a second, you did not feel the hatred towards him but once he finished his monologue, it was back. You never thought you could hate someone so much as you hated Jungkook. His carefree nature drove you crazy and you were ready to jump at him and scratch his handsome face. Jungkook stood up and walked toward the window, you took it as your free pass to leave. Even though you were wearing the dress that brought back memories, you were willing to take all of them if it meant to flee from the man who wasn’t looking at you. You bit your lower lip and swiftly but silently reached for the backpack you brought yesterday and started backing away towards the door. Your plan disappeared once you heard him shout your name. “Y/N!” you looked up at the man and let go of the backpack surprised. His dark eyes were staring into yours and he noticed that you started breathing faster. With fast steps, Jungkook walked towards you and grabbed your arm. “Did you think, I would let you run away from me? You are beautiful and I haven’t found a replacement yet. And let me be honest, I have no desire to let you go.”

Part 3

a/n: do you want part 3? let me knowwww :) also, I might make a tag list for this series, so let me know if you want to be part of it. 💜

#bts smut #jungkook smut #yandere bts #jungkook fics #jeon jungkook #bts yandere #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #jungkook #bts fanfic #bts scenarious #bts imagines #yandere jungkook #yandere #bangtan #bts

[cunningambitousdetermined]

The Plan (Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader)

title: the plan

pairing: natasha romanoff x f!reader

warnings: mild swearing, mentions of homophobia, FLUFF with a dash of angst

summary: Y/N has been in love with Natasha Romanoff for a VERY long time and honestly, Tony is getting sick of watching it. Natasha has been in love with Y/N since the very first day and Steve can’t take the assassins obliviousness anymore. Steve and Tony, reluctantly of course, team up to make the pair notice how perfect they are for each other. (OH SHOOT IM SORRY I SUCK AT SUMMARIES WOW)

requested by @iamninaanna: 

Hey Sunshine, I love your writing, so I'm here to request something :) 

Can I please request a Natasha Romanoff × reader, where the Avengers are playing truth or dare, and somebody challenges Natasha to kiss the reader, or something like that, and then they confess their feelings to one another. I was having something in mind, I hope it's not to specific, that like Natasha rambles about the reader to Steve A LOT, and he's so sick of it, he has to do something about it, while it's the same situation with reader, just that she's talking to hers best friend, which can be any of the Avengers, you decide, and then Steve and the reader's best friend make a plan together, and well, you know the rest <3

Okay, that was a lot, but I'm really excited😊 Thank you if you write it!!

a/n (i think that's what i put when i’m responding, if i screwed it up please let me know, it would be much appreciated) :

hi taja! thank you so much, this is the first time someone has requested something and im really excited. but also terrified. more terrified. reader is a girl but if someone wants me to rewrite this as gender neutral, i can.  hope i do it justice and if your reading this, thank you for reading. if anyone has any feedback, it’s always welcome. okay here i go!!

the story: 

Y/N Y/L/N flopped backward on to Tony Stark’s bed, grabbed the nearest pillow and let out a angry scream into the unsuspecting piece of cloth and feathers. 

“Woah kid, what’d the pillow do to you?” Tony joked, his eyes still trained on whatever new gizmo he was working on, chuckling at his best friends antics.

“It’s fucking Natasha” Y/N mumbled quietly into the pillow, her voice muddled by the soft white sheets that she buried her head farther in. Tony was silent, the only sounds was the clinking of the Tony’s robots and tools working, so she assumed he hadn’t heard her. Not that she wanted him too anyway. 

Y/N was in love with Natasha Romanoff. Head over heels, fully in love with the assassin that she’d worked closely with for the past years. To describe how Y/N felt about Natasha in words would never to how she really felt in justice. Natasha was a tall glass of Coke: Orange Vanilla. Rare, unsuspectingly sweet, and utterly addicting. Her red hair, the black bodysuit, the way she fought, she could take down 10 men on her own, with her bare hands. She was sweet- always sharing her secret candy stashes with Y/N- smart -helping Y/N out when she was still taking classes. 

Sometimes Y/N really thought Natasha felt the same way, then she flirted with a guy here and hot girl there and the idea fled from her brain.  Y/N had never seen Natasha have an inclination toward women, she flirted with every living thing. Y/N liked to think it was a coping with feelings for someone and that's why she was so flirty but in reality, Y/N knew there was no way she felt near the same way. She was an extra to the Avengers. And besides, no one even knew she liked girls. 

“It’s what, darling?” Tony had moved and was now sitting in front of Y/N, spinning around in his chair like a little kid in their dad’s office.

Y/N wanted to tell him how in love she was with Natasha, she wanted to tell him all the little things she noticed, all the little things she loved. But she couldn’t. How would Tony take it? Tony might take it okay, but the team? Steve? Bucky? They were from the 40′s, women didn’t love other women openly back then, did they still think it was... unnatural? She didn’t think she could deal with being any more of an outcast. Did Natasha like girls? The thoughts were drowning her slowly, cutting off her air supply, the last bit of air building up into a scream that she would never let out. 

Tony coughed and Y/N realized she’d been silent for too long. “Tony....” she took a deep breath in, “I- uh-...,” Tony raised an eyebrow, waiting for to go on. Y/N coughed clearing nothing from her throat, elongating the silence before she just spit the words out like hot fire. “I’minlovewithNatashaandIdontknowwhattodo?” 

“You’re what?” Tony asked, having caught nothing of that sentence, something about Natasha but honestly he was still lost. 

Y/N felt a little better and slowed herself down. She trained her eyes on a seam in the comforter and whispered, “I’m in love with Natasha and I don’t know what to do”

There was a silence and Y/N could feel it smothering her, pulling her into the water, dunking her head under, she was drowning and, and and- Tony erupted in laughter. Y/N’s head shot up and she stared at him, color drained from her face. Tony rocked back and forth but when he came up again, he caught the absolute terror on her face and his smile dropped. 

“Y/N?” he asked softy, he stood up, plopping on the bed next to her, “Babe?” Tony tried to catch her eye, ducking his head but she turned away. He grabbed her chin in his large hands, “Babe, I wasn’t laughing at you. God, I’m such an idiot.” he blew out a harsh breath, “I was laughing because I already knew, not because you are in love with her.” Tony felt her face relax and he turned her chin to meet his eye. 

“You knew?” Y/N asked softly, tears still gathered in her eyes. Tony’s eyes softened as he saw the tears and he used the pads of his thumb to wipe them away. 

“I’m sorry Y/N. I don’t care if you like women. I’ve known you had some sort of feelings for Natasha for a while, you can see it when you look at her. I was just waiting for you to tell me.” Y/N laughed at this now and threw her arms around Tony, who wrapped her up in a hug. “Now, tell me more about Natasha and this ‘love’” he said, his voice muffled by her hair. 

~

“STEVEEEE” Natasha groans, letting down her normal assassins façade. 

“Mmm” Steve hummed in reply, motioning for her to come in to his room. She smiled and darted to the spinning chair in the corner, propping her feet up on the desk. It was silent for a little bit, the pair just enjoying each others company when Natasha spun her chair around and broke the silence. 

“Do you think Y/N likes women?” Steve already knew the Natasha liked women and he was totally cool with it. Nat has been surprised when he had been super supportive but was very grateful for all the love and reassurance he’d given her. 

“Nat,” Steve sighed dramatically, “She can’t NOT know your in love with her, unless she’s totally oblivious which she may be...” He turned to face her, jumping on his bed to be closer to her, “You should just tell her” 

“But...” Nat frowned, “what if she doesn’t like women? And I creep her out? And..” She stopped as she felt Steve lay a hand on her shoulder. 

“How could she not like you?” he questioned, “And trust me, it’s quite obvious how she feels.” 

“HOW SHE FEELS?!” Nat practically screamed, so unlike her that Steve leaned back. She cleared her throat, “Sorry- she feels...?” 

“She’s in love with you, obviously”

Nat grabbed a pillow from the bed and screamed into it, then looked at Steve, wary, “Really? Y/N with her...” Steve tuned out the rest of what Nat said, he’d heard it all before. Too many times. Nat sighed, in a happy way that Steve had never heard from her before, “Y/N...”

~

Steve knew that this had to end, Natasha and Y/N pretending they weren’t head over heels for each other. He’d heard enough of Nat’s wistful rants, it was so unlike her, it was starting to worry him. If he was correct in his guess, Tony was feeling the same way. So, despite Tony being, well, Tony, Steve sought him out to solve the mess. 

~

“Truth or dare, old man?” Clint smirked at Tony, all the avengers had settled for a night in and decided to play truth or dare. Y/N had rolled her eyes at this, they were too old for it, but settled in next to Tony anyway. 

“Dare, obviously” Tony rolled his eyes at Clint, eagerly awaiting his fate. 

“I dare you to stand on top of the tower and sing at least 30 seconds of ‘Rich Girl’ by Gwen Stefani and livestream it.” Tony laughed at this and stood up. 10 minutes and one livestream later, all of them were laughing harder then they had in a long time. 

“Okay, okay, my turn to ask,” Tony smiled, “Natasha, truth or dare?” Steve couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face, the plan was in motion. 

“Dare...” Natasha didn’t let her voice waver, her signature smirk on her face. 

“I dare you to kiss Y/N”

The whole room fell silent. Y/N’s face flamed and her eyes filled with tears. Was this a joke? Tony knew how she felt. How could he? The eyes in the room were on Nat and her but she ignored them as she got up and ran out of the room. Tony’s eyes widened as Y/N darted through the door. 

“Nice going, Tony. You upset her.” Natasha’s glared at Tony, angry. But inside she couldn’t help but wonder if she ran because she didn’t want to kiss her. Maybe she hated the idea. Maybe she didn’t like women after all. Nat got up, she had to face this. “I’ll go get her” She dragged her hand over her face and got up. Tony and Steve exchanged a glance as she left, hopefully this wouldn’t blow up in their faces

~

“Y/N!” Nat yelled down the hall, “It’s me, I’m sorry Tony was a jerk. Can we talk?”

Y/N heard Natasha’s voice and faltered, she had to face this at some point. She took a deep breath, letting the cool confidence she had on missions fill her. 

“Yeah, I’m here Nat” She called back and within seconds Nat ran around the corner. Nat’s eyes softened as they looked into Y/N’s beautiful eyes, still just as mesmerizing, puffy and red. Nat took an unconscious step forward, her thumbs caressing the hidden tear streaks. Y/N’s breath caught, her heart flipping at Nat’s touch. Before she could think about it, Y/N leaned up and let her lips meet Nat’s. Nat responded immediately, pulling Y/N to her, wrapping her arms around her, teeth tugging at her bottom lip. Y/N groaned into the kiss, letting her fingers card through Nat’s hair. They pulled away after a minute, smiling like idiots. Y/N looked down slowly before glancing back up shyly at Nat. 

“Um... I really like you Nat” She whispered, with a smile

“I really like you too Y/N” Nat chuckled, pulling her in again for a sweet, soft kiss. It said everything they hadn’t said. All the nights of longing, the confusion and the love. 

Tony, Steve and the rest of the team watched from the security room, smiling and high fiving at the happy couple. 

AHHH I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!! feedback is always appreciated!!

tagging: @iamninaanna (to be tagged when i write something just drop me an ask)

#natasha romanoff x reader #wlw fanfic #marvel #avengers x reader #tony x platonic!reader #steve x platonic!natasha #pining #fluff #hint of angst #marvel fanfic #my writing

[badapricot]

Lovely Writer: Special 1

This is a rough translation of the first Lovely Writer special. There are 8 in total and other side stories that the author compiled. I’ll try to post 1 a week since they do vary in length, and some are a lot lengthier than this one.

This special is from Nubsib’s POV and it’s about Nubsib remembering his feelings for Gene after seeing him on Facebook, and becoming fixated. Nubsib is 15 at the time and Gene is 20.

At that time, I was in the ninth grade.

Since middle school, my parents had sent me to study abroad with my brother. Because of the wealth of my family, this was never an inconvenience. But living alone in a place that wasn’t your home country required a lot of adjustment, mainly doing everything on your own. You had to learn things that you’ve never seen and known. 

This was one of the methods of teaching the sons of the Thanakitpaisan family.

It was their luck to have a son who was mature since childhood. It didn't take long for me to get used to the culture there, where I went to parties, attended sports clubs, worked a part-time job, and even had typical American teen sex. Being Asian did give me some advantages, when it came to distinguishing myself from the others.

I could only smile when talking to the many blonde women who bragged about our experiences in bed, amongst their group of friends. After some time, I felt differently about it.

"Sib.”

"Yes?" I leaned back on the sofa, and raised my head from his screen when I heard my name.

Neung came downstairs. He was wearing a thick gray cardigan with a scarf. "I’m going to go meet a friend. You're not going anywhere today, right? "

"Hmm."

"Okay, I might be coming back late. Please get my package when it arrives. You’re not going out with your girlfriend, right?”

"We broke up.”

"Huh?” Neung frowned. "You dumped another one? Again? You know, you don’t have the face of a womanizer.”

"…"

Neung opened the door of the house. For a moment, the cool outside air blew in, until the hot air from the heater disappeared. I didn’t care much about either, and stayed looking at my phone screen.

I’m not a womanizer.

It’s just that every time I got together with a girlfriend, something felt wrong. I knew I wasn’t in love with the first girl. The others, I didn’t like particularly much. Sometimes the girls didn’t like me much either, and only wanted a partner themselves, so we’d eventually separate.

It was true, that I was only in the ninth grade. But sex here was too normalized. It had become so normal that I’d become bored. When sex became so commonplace, all excitement was lost.

Mom: (send picture)

Mom: I’ve sent you Thai ingredients that should be delivered soon. They’ll be waiting for you.

Mom: Today, I went to see Aunt Run, do you still remember the house next door? Today is the Aunt's birthday. All of her sons have come home.

Mom: I saw it and I missed you and Neung.

I looked at the message that popped up, from the other side of the world. It was dark here, but over there it was probably in the middle of the day. It was time for them to eat.

Mom: Do you remember Gene? Gene and Jap are all grown up.

Gene?

After reading my mother’s message, it was natural to think of the past. I missed it. During my childhood I would run and play with him everyday, and just the same, Gene would play with me almost every day.

I still remembered “P’Gene” clearly after all these years.

We were five years apart. But we somehow became closer than me and my own brother. Since I moved out of the house, we never saw each other again. We didn’t have any more contact with each other.

When my mother talked about that time, I felt nostalgic.

I moved my finger to type to ask for a picture from my mother. In the end, I sent a simple sticker. I sat on the sofa in the living room for awhile before retiring to my bedroom to shower.

In my warm bedroom,  so different from the night air outside, I picked up my phone again. I went to Facebook to catch up with everything back home. My finger kept scrolling through my news feed, my face blank. I started to feel sleepy, but before I could fall asleep I saw a status.

I wasn’t friends with the person who posted. But I was friends with his mother, who was tagged in the photo.

Jap Jarernpipat posted a picture.

This year, my mother has lost another year, haha.

In the picture was a group of six people. The background was a wide garden and a long table. Both of my parents, and Auntie Run and Uncle Teep were there. But the one that most caught the eye was the man in the lower right corner.

The other person grinned until his eyes were crescents. His hands were raised, flashing a peace sign. His hand held a cake tray with a delicious golden egg. The corner of the mouth was stained with white cream, like he was teasing someone. He was smiling, which made his cheeks round and full.

I couldn't take my eyes off of him. For a second, there was a strange numbness in my fingertips and toes.

I didn’t need anyone to tell me who that was.

P’Gene.

He was still wearing a white uniform shirt. It had been many years since we’d met, if counted by age. Gene would have been in university for three years.

Usually, I was the kind of person who didn’t care about the people around me, or anyone else. But this time, I couldn't control my fingertips. I clicked onto Jap’s Facebook page.

Chasing him down, I found a status posted with the person I was looking for tagged.

Jap Jarernpipat posted a picture

My brother brought me to the movies. What kind of crazy alien movie is this? I might puke, but maybe you guys on Facebook will like it.

The post was from three days ago. One was a picture of a cinema ticket on the top floor of a department store in the heart of Bangkok and the other was of P’Gene in a T-shirt and jeans. He hugged a bucket of popcorn. His hand was holding a large glass of water, lifting it up to his lips and sucking. It was a funny candid photo that many of his friends on Facebook commented on to make fun of him.

...but for me, the only word that came to mind was “lovely”.

I didn’t know why I was doing this but I pressed “save that image”.

Jap Jarernpipat posted a picture

My stupid little brother, you make the whole house look bad.

They were in a garden in the corner of the house that felt familiar to me, but was a little fuzzy. They were in front of a flower bush that had been trimmed into a square. Gene was sitting down, with his butt on the ground. A blue hose fell next to him, the hose spraying in another direction. It made him wet all over soaking his shirt, the thin material clinging to his body.

Both of his arms were behind him, to support his body. Therefore, his shirt and body were stretched, so I could see two small nubs contrasted and poking through his white shirt.

My eyebrows furrowed together, and I frowned.

I cursed when my body immediately had a strong reaction, just from the one picture.

I pressed the comment section, when I saw the high number of comments.

Jiranon Jarernpipat: Jap stop posting pictures of other people.

(Reply) Jap Jarernpipat attached video clip.

I clicked play immediately.

"Ow, P’Jap!”

“Hahaha, why would you say you’ll help me water the plants? You can help if the grass is dead.”

“Can you turn off the water for me first? Why are you recording?”

P’Gene raised his white hand. He wiped the water from his face, and pushed himself off  the ground. His shirt clung to his body, so I could see everything. He had the voice of a man, but he was still so cute.

Finally, the clip ended.

There were still a lot of other videos that Jap posted pranking Gene, all of which stopped me from becoming bored. I saved all of them to my phone and computer. In the end, when more and more accumulated, I created a whole separate folder.

That night when I fell asleep, my brain was filled with pictures of the boy next door, who I hadn’t seen in years.

Another morning, days later, I woke up frowning, and I had to gently breathe out. I’d dreamt of P’Gene again. Since seeing that picture that night, there hadn’t been a day where I could go without seeing his face.

I knew Gene’s Facebook. But he didn’t update much, except to change his avatar or cover photo. But Jap’s Facebook page had tons of pictures of Gene. So I was still able to look at Gene’s pictures and progress in life everyday, like some kind of psychopath.

Even when I closed my eyes to sleep sometimes, I still saw his pictures.

I didn’t want to be this way, but I couldn’t control my subconscious.

I always saw Gene lying in my wide bed. He would smile at me, his cheeks soft and reddish. His hands would hold on to me, and his mouth would gently say, “Sib.”

It was a fantasy that any teenage boy would have. But it wasn’t a woman. Instead, it was the boy next door, who always loved and saw me as a brother.

I circled back to look at his pictures every day. In the end, the feeling accumulated like a huge mountain of snow.

I want to meet him in real life.

I want to hug him.

I want to smell him. 

I want to kiss his mouth. I want to do to him what I do in my dreams.

Since the day I saw his picture and until today, my thoughts and feelings had become more and more intense. So intense, that sometimes I was afraid of myself.

I’d already decided how I’d deal with this.

“Will you finish school here?” Neung had packed all his bags and was ready to go because he finished his studies. I leaned against the door frame, looking into his room.

“Actually, it’s nice here too, you know.”

"No, I'm going home."

“So you’ve changed your mind then?”

I nodded.

“Well, our house is nice and of course, our parents miss you too.”

"…"

"I'm not going to be here anymore, don't bring any women into the house...but you're not dating any girls lately. So it's fine."

I sent off my brother, who took a taxi straight to the airport to go back home to Thailand. Personally, I still had a year to complete my studies.

In the past, I had never thought or worried about how fast or slow time would pass. But now, I felt jealous of my brother.

Back at the house, I picked up the phone. I was still for a while. Maybe it was because Neung had returned to Thailand, but I felt like chasing pictures wasn’t enough anymore. My fingers moved before I could decide to send a message to someone.

Nubsib tanagijpaisarn: P'Jap.

Nubsib tanagijpaisarn: Do you remember me?

I wanted to talk to someone who could tell me everything about P’Gene. 

I wanted to learn everything about him.

#lovely writer #lovely writer the series #lovely writer spoilers #gene x nubsib #text

[ktheist]

nice guys finish last | m

synopsis. you thought you were over yoongi’s dick move of ending your engagement through his parents - not even a text when he disappeared out of your life. that’s why you agreed to the newly arranged marriage with his brother, namjoon, but on the brink of your wedding day, it becomes apparent that you haven’t really let go of the past as you tear up in front of your soon-to-be husband at the back room of the church.

◟alternatively, “we entered into this marriage for a mutual reason. not dreading to come home is more than i can ask for. so it’s okay if you want to see yoongi just... keep out of the spotlight like many in our shoes who found love outside of it have.”

pairings. husband!ceo!namjoon x doctor!reader x ex-fiance!producer!yoongi

genre. arraged marriage au. angst. fluff. smut.

word. 16.2k

content: age gap factor (namjoon is 5 years older than oc and yoongi is 7 years older than oc). pining. teasing. hoseok cockblocking.

warning(s): heavy adult content. mentions of cheating. hospital scenes.

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.

x

“i don’t want to marry you at all. the person i love is someone else.” there are tears brimming in your eyes but if there’s anything the years of etiquette class namjoon’s parents forced on him taught him - he’d say he turned out okay - it’s to not mention to the crying lady that she’s crying. but he can’t help stare a little longer. admire a little too much.

the rays flooding through the window paired with the prettiest ivory dress he’s seen you in gives you an iridescent halo. you look like an angel descended from the top most heavens.

but not for him.

“i know,” he lets out a drawn out sigh, hand on his neck. he’s always been the awkward one between the two. if it was him - if it was his brother, he would say it without any ounce of self-reproach. but then again what does namjoon have to be sorry for? for being born? for being the second choice son to step into his brother’s shoes when the aforementioned man threatened to disown the family name if their parents refused to let him marry a girl of his choice who, according to the workers’ gossip, ‘he suddenly woke up one day and decided he was in love with’? 

“it’s yoongi, isn’t it? you love yoongi.”

your eyes are prettier when you’re looking directly at him. the tears give them a kind of glow that makes him want to gather you into his arms and keep you there. the flushed cheeks affirms - despite saying it with full confidence, it was just - his hunch.

oh.

the ceremony proceeds rather smoothly. you’re still sniffling when your father passes your hand to him at the end of the aisle. the older man himself looks distraught. either he knows you’re against this marriage and hates himself for failing to put his daughter’s happiness before the guaranteed wealth that comes from marrying you off to the kim family or you’d gotten into a fight with him in a last ditch attempt to convince him to call off the marriage.

either way, you’re here now. the pastor’s words are muddled in your ears but it’s enough to take note of the end tone and the steely silence that ensues which could only mean it’s your turn to say those words.

“i do.” they’re the easiest to get over with.

after endless fights with your parents, going on two hunger strikes and running away to paris for a year - you know you’re in the endgame. and you’ve painstakingly and sorely lost.

he lifts the veil off your face, taking his time with setting it over your head. it’s no secret that kim namjoon is handsome. the kind of thick, textured-fabric-suit-wearing and sleek-back hair kind of handsome. yoongi was more of the hoodie-and-jeans and messy-in-need-of-a-trim hair kind of handsome. but he isn’t yoongi.

you screw your eyes shut, refusing to let the memories of your own wedding vows embed in your head. those beautiful pink full lips are as soft as they look. but they’re not kissing you on your pressed-into-a-straight-line lips. betrayed by your curiosity, your eyes flutter open only to gaze upon the smooth cream skin that wraps around his neck and just the gentle protrusion of his adam’s apple as he pulls way.

your newly-wed husband has just kissed you on the forehead.

x

adjusting to married life is as easy as slipping on your favorite shoes. it’s perfect. almost unsettling even. the beach house off the coast of the private island namjoon’s family owns is breathtaking. the sound of waves crashing against the shores is your constant companion as you work on your research. it’s a project you had to put aside when you graduated. the first year at the hospital is the busiest, or so your senior colleagues say. 

namjoon strides into the kitchen sometime past noon, all fresh and showered with a fitting long sleeved shirt and trousers. it’s the most dressed down you’ve ever seen and yet for some people you know, it’s the fanciest they can get. sometimes you wonder if the standards have hit the ground or if namjoon’s so well-adapted into the routine of dressing up presentable enough to go to his office on an off day in case something calls for it.

“good morning.” you greet first, traces of the embarrassing tear-jerking wedding ceremony still lingers in the back of your mind - you’d tried to explain yourself on the way here in the boat but namjoon had easily blew your worries away with a light chuckle and a “i’d do the same too if i loved someone and had to marry another person.”

it’s not unusual for you to already be perched on the elegant gold sofa adjacent to the sliding doors that has the best view of the sea. the master bedroom is the other part of the beach house with spectacular view - you’d been entranced when you stepped into the room on your first day. but namjoon suggested you stay in the guest room, knowing there’s no way you would share a bed with him -

“or you can take this room and i take the guest room,” he added a moment later, probably because he saw you staring out the balcony, bewitched by the sea. that had broke you from your trance and you’d shook your head so much in protest, you were surprised it didn’t fall right off your neck. “n-no! i mean - i’ll take the guestroom.”

his parents had been nice enough to lend their private beach house for you honeymoon. you weren’t going to step over their son and conquer the master bedroom - even if technically, you’re now part of the family.

“morning.” he fixes you with that half-smile. the kind of smile you give to someone you’re in an complacent relationship with but nothing more.

at least you’ve got that going for you. and that’s a rarity coming from the gossips you’ve heard here and there about marriages found on the ground of convenience.

his eyes swipe over the ipad in your shorts-donned lap from his spot, leaned against the counter in the kitchen, pitch black mug of coffee with wafts of smoke coming out of it, “how’s your research going?”

“well,” you set the ipad down on the glass surface of the coffee table, it’s bare of anything besides your phone that’s been lighting up from the notifications. one from your mother, another from the group of friends you found in college, and the rest is from your strictly-women group from the hospital, “the world wide web is resourceful and all but it can’t beat the information in actual books - papers, you know?”

“ah, the traditional way of researching.” he chuckles, dimples digging into his cheek, enhancing his handsome features. you never knew he had dimples. not that you knew much about him - you’d only properly talked on the day of your wedding, in the back room and the first thing you said was -

you suppress the memories further down your thoughts. it works for the most part, but you can’t help the flush that spreads across your face. so the laugh you let out is a little strained and if he notices, he doesn’t show - like he pretends not to notice a plenty many things.

but alas, he knew your secret crush - was it still just a crush you had for yoongi? you’re not sure.

“what can i say? i’m raised traditional.”

x

that was two weeks ago. now, you’re back to working your ass off at the hospital, being grilled to the bones by your supervisor, getting reprimanded over being one minute late and then being told to run to the cafe five minutes from the hospital to buy your supervisors their favorite strawberry smoothie topped with sprinkles.

“kim seokjin, that dickwad.” jennie huffs, her cat-like eyes making it appear as though she’s plotting the man’s death. “he’s working you to the bones as soon as you get back.”

“he probably thinks i’m not that serious about my residency since my family has enough fortune to sustain me for my whole lifetime,” you can only laugh at that, her anger has sucked all the tiredness and annoyance you have for your supervisor right out of you. it feels refreshing, “all the more reason to prove him wrong.”

“enough about that asshole,” jisoo waves a dismissive hand off and you know what’s coming is far more terrifying: she blinks, eyes filled with stars and cherry red lips curling into the kind of smile that can only mean one thing, “how was it? the second son of kimcorp. were there rose petals on bed? candles lit around the house? a romantic, sizzling-”

“sorry, jisoo, i gotta go get ready for the dinner. i’ll buy you lunch tomorrow, okay?” you clasp your hands together apologetically when your phone buzzes with the reminder you set a week prior: 8am annual kimcorp dinner.

you breathe a sigh of relief as you shake off your white coat, draping it over your recliner before escaping to the washroom with a bag of makeup and the dust-proof cover bag of the outfit you’re wearing for tonight. by the time you’re touching up on your nude lipstick, your phone buzzes again but this time, the screen lights up with namjoon’s name on it.

“hey,” his voice is deeper through the phone - it’s the first time he calls you. there was never any reason for you to call each other but you suppose, he’s calling to make sure you’re not forgetting the dinner -

“i’m in front of the hospital.”

or maybe not.

“wh-what do you mean?” your cheeks heat up from the thought of namjoon waiting for you in his audi. the image, too domestic for your liking.

“well, you can’t drive so i thought i’d pick you up.” he says it like its the simplest equation to understand.

“namjoon,” the name feels foreign on your tongue regardless of how many times you taste it when you need to tell him something - to set the line straight, “i didn’t know you were gonna pick me up so i already told kyungsoo to pick me up. he’s probably already here. sorry i didn’t tell you sooner.”

“i know,” he says simply.

“e-excuse me?” while you’re beyond confused.

“i told your parents i’d pick you up so kyungsoo’s driving them to the dinner.”

“oh.”

wait. what?! 

x

namjoon is confident in his driving skills - as he is with everything he does. he’s almost perfect. the line of his shoulders seem at ease as he stirs the wheel with one hand and the other rests on the gear, inches away from your scarlet clad thighs.

“why isn’t hoseok driving you?” the aforementioned man sticks to him like glue. everywhere namjoon goes, he goes. it’s a given since he’s the head secretary but anyone who’s seen them interact could tell there’s more than boss-employee relationship between them. they seem like close friends which is unlikely be given namjoon’s too-serious nature and hoseok’s joke-cracking every five minutes - but not impossible.

his face remains the same as he keeps his eyes on the road, humming briefly, “he had a thing.”

“can secretaries have a thing and leave their boss to drive for himself like that?” that doesn’t sound right. you may not be actively involved in fecam industries’ affairs but mr. jung, your dad’s secretary, spends more time with your dad than the two men do with their wives - that’s how demanding the business world is. but could hoseok get a free pass because of his and namjoon’s friendship?

namjoon chuckles, dimples and all and you can’t help but blush at the side profile. if anything, he has a sharp jawline and beautiful neck-

you push the thought as soon as it comes. neck? who finds necks beautiful?

“he had a date but it’s not until a couple hours,” the tone he uses is light and playful but underlined with a sort of bashfulness that you don’t know kim namjoon was capable of, “i told him to go home because i wanted to pick you up myself.”

your cheeks heat up all over again as you stare at him a little too long. so much so, the hand that’s been comfortably perched on the gear goes to the back of his neck in an unsure manner.

“i just needed to talk to you about something.” he explains, just as awkward as he was in the back room at the church.

“okay.” eyes turned to the road too, you can see namjoon breathing a sigh of relief from your periphery. that couldn’t have been because of you could it? was he nervous because you were watching him? “what did you want to talk about?”

he clears his throat, that natural ease in his tone returning, “if it gets uncomfortable - if anyone asks, we met because you were yoongi’s fiancee and we couldn’t help but fall in love. but you wanted to intern at a hospital in paris so that’s why we’ve only gotten married now.”

you take awhile to digest the information until something in your stomach doesn’t sit right with you, “you want me to... lie?”

his bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth just for the briefest moment as he thinks about it. he probably didn’t expect you to disagree but he admits his mistake faster than half the people you know your whole life would, “i’m sorry, i didn’t think it would weight on your conscience. i was thought it’d be hard on you if some ass- someone’s going to start a rumor about you but i didn’t ask how you’d feel about it.”

“i see.” you simply nod. it’s true that you’re the pass-up fiancee who got between two people who fell in love in college but the other is the son of a renown family and engaged while the other is an arts major from a normal working family. unable to let bygones be bygones, you decide to marry the younger brother to your fiance - or so the story goes. “but they already know i was yoongi’s fiancee and i ended up marrying you. i don’t need - no, i don’t want to explain myself to anyone.”

despite that big talk, your can feel the prickle of tears in your eyes. namjoon steals a glance at you and he never mentions the glassiness of your gaze - if anything, he smiles. it’s different than the usual smiles. this one, though wordless, says he’s following your flow. do what you like and if and when things get though, you can count on me.

x

dinner has yet started when you arrived. guests are still arriving and waiters and waitresses are carrying trays of champagne glasses around. in a distance, your friends wave at you to come over. you smile, hand falling away from namjoon’s since you needed to at least do that in front of the paparazzo that were waiting outside. eager, hungry for gossip about the wedding that shook south korea’s business world.

“girl, you are glowing.”  yerin literally screams. it’s a secret to no one that she’s hinting on your recent marriage and private island getaway. but nothing happened.

“how are you girls? it’s been so long.” you side hug eunha, letting her arms wrap around your waist as you stand huddled together.

you haven’t seen them since you got back from paris. the wedding was attended by thousands of people - all of whom, your and namjoon’s family’s associates. but you had your hands full shaking hands and smiling next to your husband because these people matter to namjoon. or at least he has an interest over them. business deals. merges. trades. kimcorps carries out every kinds of business they can get their hands on. namjoon passingly mentioned about the work-in-progress for a private hospital.

you dread the likelihood of having to leave the hospital you’re working in right now for family-run one but you know it’s quite impossible to not get involved when you, yourself is a doctor.

“we weren’t the ones who went under the radar and came back and got married to the second son of kimcorp.” yuju huffs sulkily, cheeks pinked from the champagne she’s had but she isn’t that far gone when she clamps her mouth shut a second later, eyebrows furrowing in guilt.

sowon nudges her side anyway, mouthing her something as your gaze falls on the light caught in your black gucci heels.

“i-i’m sorry, ___ that didn’t come out right.” comes a heartbeat later, she sounds just as sorry as her words as you offer her a small smile. 

“it’s okay, it’s the truth anyway.”

“stop that,” eunha suddenly gripes, her gaze boring into you and rips apart the barrier you’ve tried so hard to maintain, “we’ve been friends since elementary school, we know how whipped you are for that asshole so-” she sniffles while you’re left wondering if it’s her who had an ex-fiance break if off and had his parents relay the news on a bi-weekly dinner. 

“she’s trying to say you can cry or get mad or curse that dipshit around us. don’t hold back.” sowon finishes, lips twitching as she enjoys watching the vulnerable state of the otherwise fiercest one among you.

something in your chest feels light. like a weight being lifted off your shoulders as you study the girl’s face one by one. sowon’s and yerin’s smirk, yuju’s nodding and eunha’s teary eyes. 

“yoongi, he’s-” you take a deep breath and it feels almost dramatic as the second stretches on while you build up the hurt, the anxiousness, the disbelief that the man put you through, “-a fucking idiot.”

“you bet he is,” yerin’s basically screams, swiping a glass for you and holding hers up, “that fucking idiot.”

you tighten your side hug on eunha in an ‘i’m okay’ gesture as you clink your glasses together.

it’s a few moments later that murmurs start to spread around. the tension that comes with the latest arrived guest thick enough to command every attention in the room.

“she’s ballsy. coming here.” sowon offhandedly comments, eyes trained on the girl who has her hand on yoongi’s arm like an iron clamp. “right into the lion’s den.”

she may not have her parents’ money to groom her into the women you and the girls are. but maybe that’s why she has her own air. her poised steps, coupled with a cocktail creme laced dress and relaxed smile easily gives her an innocent cloak. someone friendly and good-tempered and can adjust well to her suddenly-plunged-into-money circumstance when she married yoongi. that must have been why you never heard any bad rumors about her even though there’s almost always at least one gossip enthusiast in these socials.

“ugh, i hate her!” yuju hisses, eyes more focused as she places her glass onto one of the waiter’s trays.

“i-i think i’m going to get myself some snacks.” with that, you slip past the guests until you’re at the end of the room, standing in front of the everything-you-can-eat table lined up with pastries only from the best bakes.

that moment, when you looked from her to yoongi, your eyes met. his hair is a little longer than you remember it, flowing in light blue tresses until just a few centimeters above his eyebrows. the first two buttons of his shirt is undone. her doesn’t wear a necktie - he despises how suffocating they feel. but he’s managed to keep on his blazer - he used to say they were hot and took them off and left them in the back seat of the car when you arrived at an event. he used to attend these events with you. just the two of you. for four years. you thought you’d keep doing so for longer after you got married.

“you know, they’re not plastic and made for display.” a voice breaks you from your train of thoughts.

“p-pardon?” you blink once. confused.

“the pastries,” namjoon lulls his head to the side where towers of tarts, macaroons, pavlova and sliced cakes stand tall and proud, “they’re edible.”

it takes a moment for you to register that he was joking - kim namjoon? cracking jokes?

his smile tilts higher when you chuckle. it’s brief but the look of relief oh his face lingers. he must have seen you escape from your group of friends. and this is his own way of checking up on you.

“thank you, namjoon.” you murmur low enough for only you and him to hear, lips tugging in the corners. “but i’m fine - i just - seeing him for the first time like this - it’s just unexpected. even though this is an annual dinner held by his family and he has every right to be here.”

“that’s her? the ex-fiancee?” a guest asks in a hushed tone somewhere a few feet away. but she’s not very discreet as she thinks she is.

“yeah, she couldn’t get the older brother so she went for the younger one.”

apparently, her company needs to attend classes on how-to-whisper-101 too.

“how mortifying. and the brother just goes with it?”

“he must have felt compelled to save her face. you know how nice and well-mannered he is-”

the low noise namjoon makes under his breath catches your attention. the muscles on his face is strained and twisted. it barely shows. just a crease between his eyebrows and the lack of smile. he hardly ever smiles from the tabloids and interviews you’ve seen of him so people might not notice the displeasure. but after a whole month of knowing namjoon, if there’s anything you can say for certain about the man, it’s the stockpile of smiles he has to offer.

“namjoon, it’s okay. i don’t care.” you smile, it’s forced and you know he notices it right off the bat but sighs anyway, shoulder line falling just slightly as he runs a hand over his sleek styled hair.

his lips move and you hear the words he uttered but somehow your mind couldn’t comprehend the information without going blank. “s-sorry?”

“it agitates me that they’re freely spewing bullshit like this,” he huffs, cheeks tinted pink at having to repeat his words. “it’s taking everything in me not to go over there and tell them their husbands have at least one business deal with kimcorp. and i can end it and it’d plunge their family into bankruptcy.”

“wh-why would you do such a thing?” the question comes out almost dumbly but if it did, he doesn’t say. he just... keeps looking at you.

you’re barely able hold yourself from squirming under his scrutiny, the smile now awkward in all places.

“if you don’t mind, can i kiss you?” his eyes widen just the slightest bit as he corrects himself, “on the forehead i mean.”

he clears his throat, eyes straying away from you as if he couldn’t bear to look at your face after that mistake. “just so i can prove to them i wasn’t forced to marry you.”

the light pinkish blush spreads to the tip of his ears and neck as he shifts his weight from one foot to another. you’re not sure why, but the sight in front of you is endearing and you find yourself saying-

“okay, kiss me.”

you didn’t specify where. and maybe, as the heat flares across your own cheeks when his arm band around your waist and a warm hand presses up against you cheekbone - maybe you want him to kiss you somewhere else.

the chatter stops and so does time. but it’s only for as long as namjoon’s full lips are on your forehead, kissing you for the second time. then, time resumes and murmurs begin to spread louder than when yoongi made his arrival. when the gravelly voice speaks from somewhere behind namjoon, you know why.

“get a room, will you?” yoongi’s tone is light - you’d taken a whole year getting used to it to know he’s being playful and not condescending.

“yoongi.” namjoon greets, unlike the elder man, his sounds better natured but there’s a sort of underlying detachment. his arm is still on your lower back almost as if he needs to feel that you’re here or he’d be completely detached. “i didn’t think you’d show up. you hate these events.”

the aforementioned man draws out a long sigh as though he’s been found out over a poorly told lie. “i don’t but naeun wanted to go - you know how things are with mom and dad. she thinks it’s gonna make them open up.”

it’s no secret your father and mother-in-law doesn’t talk about yoongi’s marriage - they never do around you but you thought they were being considerate. but what yoongi’s saying right now could mean his relationship with his parents are far more strained than you thought it’d be. especially since they had let him marry the girl of his dreams who’s clearly below their standards.

she - naeun - is standing somewhere near the exit, conversing with the notorious older generation that yerin duped ‘the wickeds’. for their ways of gaining wealth, for their poor treatment towards their employees, for socially shunning a young man - new money, for addressing one of them casually. she is ballsy.

“it’s been awhile,” yoongi’s directly addressing you now. the tug on his lips as playful as an old friend’s greeting. you don’t know how he can look at you like nothing happened. “you’re finally a resident now, huh?”

“yeah, finally.” you smile, the kind of smile that celebrates her triumph. the celebration part is true but the smile is every bit unnatural. but it seems to fool yoongi as he nods, proud.

somewhere in your chest, the strings on your heart clenches at the unchanging personality of this man. no wonder you like him.

before the conversation can tread further down memory lane, there’s an announcement to have the guests move to another room where dinner is being served.

“we’ll get going first then.” namjoon announces, guiding you by the waist as yoongi nods, waiting for naeun to come to his side before going in himself.

x

 dinner went smoother than expected. yoongi and naeun showed up uninvited and were placed in the back seats where the people socially displaced guests are. you felt bad when you saw naeun’s distorted expression as waiters bring in chairs to the table for the both of them. but there’s nothing you could have done.

“you have an 8am shift tomorrow, right?” namjoon asks as you slip your heels off, wincing at when one of them brushes against the blisters. they’re gonna be a bitch to deal with tomorrow.

stretching your arms out as you walk up the stairs, you hum in confirmation. “mhm, and you have dinner with ms. yoo, right?”

it’s ironic how you know each other’s schedule despite not being anything more than two people sharing one house and happens to be married. guess you’ll chalk it up with the fact that you both respect each other enough to be aware of each other’s whereabouts - not the creepy kind of way but the share-me-your-live-location-so-i-know-you’re-safe kind of way.

namjoon was quiet until you take a left to where the guest bedroom-turned-permanent-bedroom is, “it got rescheduled.”

your hand hovers over the door handle as you crane your neck to look at the man on the top of the stairs. his bow tie is loosened, the button to his color undone and his blazer is draped over one arm - a telltale sign of a final end to the night. “i was hoping we could have dinner to together. after work.”

yes but you don’t usually go straight home after work. you usually spend time at the library either at your previous college or at the hospital. you’ve decided to continue your research no matter how taxing it may be since you came back from the honeymoon. namjoon knows and the fact he asks you to dinner anyway - it’s unlike him.

he’s the kind of person that would ask if you had free time and match his schedule to yours. not ask for your time.

“yeah, sure.” you say and you think you see his shoulder line sagging as if he’s just let out a long-held breath, “pick me up at 8?”

“yeah.” he nods, dimples showing as his lips curl at your answer, “at 8.”

only when the door closes behind you, do you let yourself slide down to the ground. heels lying next to your thighs and dress in need of being sent for washing. your cheeks are and neck and ears are hot. dinner? just you and namjoon? like... a date?

x

jisoo isn’t around when lunch rolls by.

“a patient got rolled into er this morning - couldn’t contact any of his family members. suho decided to go ahead with surgery but he reacted badly to the anesthesia so she had to make up for her suho’s mistake and monitor his patient.” jennie’s face scrunches at the other woman’s supervisor pushing the task on her. shoving a forkful of the cheese cake, she sighs as the medical professional side take over, “thank god the surgery went smoothly though despite all that.”

you hum in contemplation, comparing the well-established crazy bitch seokjin who pushes those under his supervision to their limits and suho’s less-than-extreme approach. you used to envy jisoo and jennie for getting suho as their supervisor but at the end of the day, with every push from seokjin, you get out of it stronger and wiser. “i hope she doesn’t forget to have her meals.”

the day ends faster than usual. of course with rounds and surgeries you have to assist with, you’ve always find yourself barely realizing the setting sun - the sign of that your shift has ended.

but you could have sworn it was 5pm when you last checked the time. an car crash patient had arrived at the er and you forgot you’d left your phone on your desk, running out to assist the critical patient. it’s only when you’ve plopped into your recliner, head thrown back in fatigue, do you notice the vibration of your phone.

namjoon’s name flashes across your screen. your eyes almost bulges out of their sockets as you swipe to the right.

the deep voice from the other end is as calm as ever, “hey, ___-”

“namjoon!” you almost scream with guilt, phone pressed between your cheek and your shoulder as you shrug the coat off one shoulder before using the free now free hand to hold the phone and shrug off the other shoulder, “where are you?”

“i’m at the parking lot. i couldn’t wait at the lobby because i was obstructing the other cars - i called you a few times.” he sounds almost concerned and your heart clenches tightly in you chest at the thought of him waiting for you for over an hour.

you burst onto the parking lot - searching for the sleek black audi until a red bugatti rolls over. you’re about to take a step back seeing as you’re almost standing in the middle of the road - when the driver on the other side of the car steps out. his usually gelled hair is mussed from the amount of times he ran his hand over it, cuffs rolled to just below his elbow, revealing the dark veins that run just below the skin on his arm. 

namjoon fixes you with that eased smile, going around the gently purring vehicle and opening the door to the passenger seat for you. the arm which hand he uses to hold the door open pulls on the thin fabric of his button down in all the right places. so this is a the normal end-of-the-day look.

you always get back a bit later than him and by the time he looks up from his work that’s laid out over the coffee table, he would usually already have bathed and changed into one of those long-sleeved shirts.

x

the restaurant he initially booked for dinner had cancelled. naturally. so you end up in a barbecue place five minutes away from the hospital. this is where you and your colleagues go when to celebrate a birthday, promotion or finally-having-a-boyfriend/girlfriend.

the slices of meat sizzles on the grill, its marinated aroma wafting in the air. but your stomach churns with a different kind of sensation - guilt. “i-i’m sorry. because of me you had to wait an hour and got cancelled by the restaurant.”

then, he chuckles. it’s the same kind of good natured chuckle that reverberates every time you say something amusing - but you can’t see how any of this is.

his says your name. the syllabus rolls out of his tongue in waves but you chalk up the blush spreading on your face with the heat of the grill so close to you. he leans back against the backrest, sleeves filled out to the brim as he crosses his arms over his chest. “you were the one saving a life. all i did was wait.”

“y-yeah but still.” no emergency is foreseeable, otherwise you could have saved more lives than you do now. and it’s still not enough. “i forgot about you.”

namjoon nods, taking your words into consideration - as if he never thought about it that way. as if he truly doesn’t mind wasting his time over some woman he has to tolerate because he’s married to her. “cook me dinner then.”

“wh-what?”

“i don’t want you to beat yourself up and i know whatever i say is going to come off as me being nice.” the corners in his lips tugs upwards, “so make it to me by cooking dinner.”

once your brain is done registering what he said, you clutch your hands in your lap as though you’re clinging onto this one time chance to make up for your fault, “yes! i-i mean yeah, sounds fair.”

the smooth sound of his chuckle isn’t lost to the sizzle of the meat. to him, it must be a small matter but to you, it’s a matter of pride.

“this saturday then?” you offer, a bit too eager.

almost as if remembering something, he releases a long drawn out sigh, “business trip to tokyo.”

“next weekend?”

“mom’s home sweeter home fundraiser for the orphans on saturday. sunday?”

“night shift. how bout breakfast?”

“golf with seollyu’s director.”

a heavy pause lapses in the room. after a moment, namjoon reaches for the chopsticks, flipping the slices of meat over.

your shoulders sag, lips pursed in a pout. this isn’t an unusual occurrence in your years of being the daughter of your family. your father is devoutly involved in the family business and your mother is busy with her charity work. you’ve celebrated birthdays with the staff more than you do with them.

the glint of the chopstick that’s placing a piece of meat on your plate catches your eyes. you study the long nimble fingers to the vein that runs from the back of its hand and disappear somewhere below his arm before you gulp, meeting his eyes - did he notice you checking out his arm?

“we’ll figure something out.” if he did, he doesn’t say as he fixes you with an assuring smile, “but right now you need to get some food in you. eat up dr. ___. you did great today at work.”

this time, you really can’t blame the grill for the blush.

x

“you could’ve told mom you couldn’t do brunch.” namjoon tells you in the elevator to the 15th floor of your in-laws’ house. it’s been three days since that night. he’s left for work but prior to this morning, he’d already made it clear that it was no problem at all picking you up from home.

he’s probably saying this because of the lack of makeup you’d put on. some pats of compact powder and bright red lipstick can’t hide the bags underneath those tired eyes. you’d spend extra hours reading about the defective genes and the fix to remodel them so every child born from parents from a history of relatives with inheritable diseases could live a life without the risk of said disease.

“i’m fine.” you wave a dismissive hand before stretching in the compact space in a last ditch attempt to wake yourself up and hopefully look fresher by the time you reach the floor. “’sides, i’ve been so focused on work, it’s nice to see mom and dad every once in awhile.”

you’ve gotten used to referring to mr. and mrs. kim as if they’re your own parents - in a way, they are. you’ve known them for as long as you can remember.

“you have to be at the hospital by noon, right?”

you hum in confirmation. though you insisted on grabbing a cab to the hospital since it’s on the opposite side of the office, namjoon had insisted better. “mhm, oh we’re here.”

a ding! echoes throughout the elevator when it stops, doors opening to a hallway with black and yellow walls and ceiling, paired with honey marble flooring. it takes a few seconds before the black door at the end of the hallway to swing open but instead of the warm smile of the elderly lady, a bring and vibrant naeun beams at the both of you.

“you’re here. come in.” she steps aside, the hem of her sundress fluttering as she moves.

your body tenses at the proximity of the woman who you thought you could avoid until a much later time. and from the barely noticeable lifted brows that namjoon does, you know he wasn’t expecting his sister-in-law too. if she’s here, so is yoongi.

“we picked these up on the way.” you hand her the paris baguette paper bag. you’d ordered a mix of fruit tarts, cinnamon rolls and macaroon. all of which you remember mrs. kim mentioning to be her favorites. 

“oh! you shouldn’t have but thank you.” up close, naeun is much more prettier with a natural pinkish tint across her cheeks that makes her seem dreamy and glossed cheery lips that complements the gentle air she carries around. she passes the bag to one of the staff that’ll probably unbox them and plate them.

you offer her a smile - though a bit strained. and she must have noticed when she sighs softly, eyes darting to her fuchsia flats before looking back up at you with a furrowed brows. but even when she’s frowning, she’s pretty.

“i’ve been wanting to meet you and properly apologize for not being able to attend the wedding - i had an exhibition that day in prague and yoongi wouldn’t let me go by myself even though i thought at least one of us should go to his brother’s wedding.” she chuckles at the last part as if replaying the heartwarming scene of her protective husband choosing his wife over his family. you can feel every fiber of your body coiling and writhing - it takes everything for you not to leave through the door. would yoongi have done the same for you?

“this must be awkward for you, isn’t it?” her lips tug into a half-smile - a telltale that she’s equally uncomfortable to talk about this topic. “with you and yoongi being engaged before but now i’m the one married to him. but i hope we can put everything past us and be a family.”

but something in the way she talks - it’s as if she sympathizes. as if she’s saying it’s okay, you shouldn’t feel ashamed. but what are you supposed to be shameful of? of being engaged to yoongi before? of marrying his brother when said engagement fell through? perhaps you should have gave mrs. kim a hard ‘no’ when she pleaded with teary eyes for you and your parents’ forgiveness when she and mr. kim had to break the news over dinner two years ago. so you wouldn’t have to develop a hard skin and pretend you didn’t care about the ruthless rumors that have spread far and wide after your marriage to namjoon. 

“oh? yeah, it was a long time ago.” you offhandedly say - it’s that moment, when her eyes twitches just the slightest bit that you realize it wasn’t all just in your head. she did mean to make you feel embarrassed when she started mentioning the engagement.

you join namjoon and mrs. kim at the garden while naeun follows suit a second later, taking the middle among the three seats. the elder woman’s eyes light up at the sight of you, her heels clacking against the wooden flooring as she crosses the distance and engulfs you in a hug. you hug back, smiling at the woman’s motherly warmth.

“___, my favorite daughter, what happened to you?” she cups your cheeks, brows furrowing as she seem to examine your complexion.

you should’ve used concealer. 

“the hospital is working you to the bone isn’t it? why, it’s been awhile since i had lunch with chairman lee, maybe i should give his wife a call.”

that’s how it works when you have connections. if someone’s daughter or son fails to get into college or a job through regular exams or interviews, a dinner or lunch with the director of the institution will get the child admitted overnight. that’s probably why seokjin was harder on you than usual when you got back from your honeymoon - he must think you’re not serious about being a doctor. it’s not a secret he came from old money but he’d cut off all ties with his family when he started working. he has more ethics than half of the people you know.

“___ doesn’t like it when you do these things, mom.” yoongi grumbles - always the painfully honest one. the chair screeches as he pulls it and plops between naeun and namjoon while their father occupies the seat next to mrs. kim. it looks like they just came from mr. kim’s home office. and judging from the stiffness of their posture, the talk must have been a serious one.

namjoon’s shoulder line tightens just the slightest bit - you almost thought it was just a figment of your imagination but when you steal a glance at his face, you know he’s not too keen in having yoongi sit next to him. so you weren’t imagining it when he seemed like he was escaping yoongi by not waiting for naeun to come and walk with you to into the dining hall.

you’re not lost to yoongi’s familiar tone when he spoke on your behalf. but you’re not happy either. forcing a laugh, you push a strand to the back of your ear for the sake of doing something, “i-it’s not the hospital. i’ve been staying up late to work a bit on my research.”

a worker comes with the baked goods you brought. they’re plated on perfectly polished ceramic - you can easily see your forced smile in its reflection when the woman sets them down the table in front of you. 

“research?” yoongi lifts one eyebrow at you. too casually. and it takes you back to those times when you used to visit him at his college’s library and you’d bring your homework with you whilst you slip in a few ‘what i did’s as he typed away on his mac but still managed to keep up with you and asked questions here and there. a sign that he’d been present and listening.

“___’s been working on researching how segregate defective genes during the fetal stage so the fetus won’t take on their parents’ inherent diseases when they’re born.” namjoon explains the simplified version almost as though it’s part of his day-to-day line of work. he grins at you, the corners of his lips tugging with pride - a gratification of being able to show you off.

“that’s good. you’re making a difference in this world.” mr. kim is the first to break the silence. and in the years you’ve known him, it means the highest level of flattery you’ll ever get from the man.

your cheeks are flushed red and you know well enough it’s not because of mr. kim’s compliment than it is his son’s. “it’s still just a research draft but th-thank you. mister-” the elder man raises his brow and you quickly correct yourself, “i mean, dad.” 

he nods at the word, the slightest hint of smile disappearing under the cup of tea he brings to his mouth.

“but still, don’t push yourself too hard. working as a doctor takes up a lot of time already.” naeun fixes you with a worried gaze but something about her tone makes your stomach churn - it’s as if she’s playing down the time and effort you’d invested in your research and reminding you to focus on your paying job. even if you did downplay yourself when you were responding to mr. kim. before you can sort out the wave of emotions clashing inside you, namjoon seems to beat you to it.

“not everyone can do what ___’s doing. it’s okay if she wants to do more,” a hand slips under yours in your lap, reverting your gaze from the beautiful woman to the apparent difference in the size of yours and namjoon before you turn your cheek to him. it was a mistake because now you’re holding your breath as you come face to face. his body is leaned into you as he speaks, “i’ll just take care of ___ better.”

he turns to naeun, lips twitching upwards in a brief smile as if to enforce it more and putting a finality to the topic. but you’re left staring at namjoon’s sharp jawline until mrs. kim makes a squealing sound as she clamps her mouth shut in an attempt to tease you.

“gosh, is my baby all grown up now? he’s saying he’ll take care of his wife!”

the chuckle you let out is nowhere near natural or entertained. not when your insides are burning and you think your heart is going into overdrive from how fast it’s beating. and it doesn’t help that namjoon’s too casually playing along “of course, i only have one wife.”

x

“namjoon,” you take a second to gather yourself, hands fiddling in your lap as the car rolls to a stop in front of the lobby. the man fixes you with an inquisitive gaze. of course, who wouldn’t be wondering what’s up if their name was spoken with so much weight in them like you did with namjoon’s? “what was that? the wife thing?”

he stares into the street as he sifts through his memory before he fixes you with a gaze clouded with guilt, “i’m sorry. i got carried away - it won’t happen again.”

and that’s the thing. namjoon is too fast in admitting his fault. but you didn’t bring it up because you wanted an apology-

“no, i don’t mind.” you shake your head almost too eagerly before back tracking and clearing your throat, “i mean, it’s true. we’re married - i am your wife.”

the corners of his lips upturns at your last words and he doesn’t bother to hide it as he waits for you to finish - but how can you when he’s looking at you so tenderly like that?

“it’s just - too soon?” you curse yourself for sounding so meek but any louder, your heart might just jump out of your throat.

namjoon nods, that contemplative look settling on his face and takes away that smile only to return it with a dimpled grin. one hand slides in between yours and guiding the back of your hand to his lips.

“we’ll take it slow then.”

you can only nod, afraid that if you tried to speak, you would forget how to. the light rap on your side of the window catches both your attention. it’s the parking management. stealing a glance at the cars that are beginning to queue up behind you, you hurriedly gather your bag and hop out of the car.

cheeks flushed, you barely register waving back at namjoon when he leans over the passenger seat just to shoot you that dimpled smile and a ‘see you at home’.

you turn on your heels. the sharp click bounces against the white walls. a small smile spreads across your lips as you think about namjoon’s words.

yeah, the penthouse does feel like home.

x

this isn’t slow at all. you’re barely progressing.

it feels like everyday is passing by too fast what with the abundance of functions you’ve told namjoon you wanted to go with when you’re not working, to cramming some time for research and trying to find the time to at least make breakfast when you’re not on morning shift. though on some mornings, he’d beat you to breakfast and you’d wake up to the delectable smell of omelette or bacon.

“you must be thrilled about the new hospital, mrs. kim,” mrs. hwan is generally an agreeable woman along with her husband, the president of a small startup firm. they’re the first couple to approach you and namjoon since you arrived at the party. but that’s just it - the smiling, the talking, the eagerness doesn’t show in their eyes. it’s all about building connections while maintaining a good enough acquaintanceship. “are you going to be managing it directly since you’re a doctor yourself?”

“naturally,” the tug on your lips and the smoothness of your response is almost effortless. you’re no stranger to this scene - except back then, you would be standing next to yoongi. though your hand wouldn’t be tucked in his arm like yours is with namjoon. “though i still have a lot to learn, i hope the next two years will help me prepare to for eden.”

two years is the estimated time that eden hospital will be able to run. you’d finish your residency by then. all that’s left is to take the next step. just like your parents had planned for you as they’d planned many things. you never had the power to object.

mrs. hwan goes on to sprinkling empty praises while her husband laughs in deflated humor. they say the way to a successful business deal is through the wife.

once namjoon gets swamped by more people, you gently pull your hand away from his arm. you don’t miss the pleading look he fixes you when he notices your intention but you can only return a ‘you can do it!’ smile and slip away from the limelight.

the balcony area is dark, illuminated only by the fading light the pours over the floor past the door frame. you don’t expect the air to be this chilly at the beginning of summer but then again, namjoon did suggest bringing a coat - you were just too stubborn to because it would ruin the off shoulder look of your dress.

a sneeze escapes you a moment later as you hug yourself in an attempt to retain your body heat. but the warmth that engulfs you seems impossible to have come from just your puny palms - heck, your fingers were starting to feel prickly cold. there’s a sort of weight on your shoulders that wasn’t there before-

“idiot, you’re gonna catch a cold.” yoongi tuts from next to you - he has his hands in his pockets, all donned in crisp white shirt and checkered grey trousers and vest. all that’s missing is a matching blazer - the one that he placed around you just now.

somewhere in the recesses of your memories, you remember him taking off the muffler he had on and wrapping it around your neck when you showed up for your ‘christmas date’ with a pink nose and pinker ears - you could barely feel them. yoongi was that kind of person - the kind that acted like everything is a whole load of inconvenience and yet went to greater length to inconvenient himself for you.

“thanks. i thought i was going to freeze to death if i have to hide out here for another hour.” you tug the thick material of the blazer closer - the warmth of his heat feels just right.

“then you shouldn’t have come in the first place.” he must have noticed the higher-than-an-octave tone he uses before ruffling his hair - it’s the first you’ve ever seen him so unsure. is it really because of you?

“it’s fine. besides, what kind of wife would i be if i let namjoon get eaten by the pack of wolves by himself?” you chuckle at the fact that you’d done just that when you escaped the growing crowd of businessmen.

but when you notice the lack of humor on yoongi’s face, your own dies down. he’s staring at you with an indecipherable look. it’s not the bored expression he usually sports - not also the anger from the outburst just now. before you can say anything, namjoon’s lean silhouette appears in the doorway. you can’t see his face but his tone is strained. “we’re leaving, if you’re both done catching up.”

“so soon?” you know for a fact it probably hasn’t even been fifteen minutes - and you’re supposed to linger for at least two hours before leaving. that’d be enough time for namjoon to scout any potential business associate - the worthy ones at least.

“hey little bro.��� yoongi waves, the disinterested look now returning but the way he phrases his next words oozes with revulsion. it’s no surprise. while yoongi hates these events - he’s probably here because of naeun, you heard the director of seoul’s annual art exhibition is here - namjoon strives off it. garnering attention and making the best of it by bringing in stockholders. “had enough of ass licking?”

you never understand the tangibility of the tension that feels the air when these two brothers are in the same room together - they’re barely able to remain civil in the presence of mr. and mrs. kim. anywhere without their parents’ watchful eyes, a fight would always be at risk of breaking out. whenever you were around, you’d be the one to interfere, whether it’s to tug on yoongi’s sleeve and tell him you’re hungry, or step in front of him just so he’d remember you’re here or right now-

“thank you, yoongi.” folding the blazer in half, you hand it back to the man - only that he’s not taking it back. momentarily, you wonder if you’d stained it with your lipstick or foundation but the lapels never touched anywhere above your neck. but deep in the crook of your conscience, you know it’s when his mind retracts back to you, to the present.

the sigh that escapes yoongi is a telltale of fatigue - you wonder if this is the first time of the day he came out of his studio. taking the blazer from your outstretched hand, he slings it over his shoulder, “don’t get too caught up with these functions. focus on your goal.”

your goal meaning what comes next in your career: the fellowship. you thought that information was lost on him, buried among the many things you told him just because you were comfortable telling him everything. 

and as you watch him walk back into the lion’s den, you wonder, how didn’t you realize he was in love with someone else during the visits you paid while he was doing his masters and phd?

x

namjoon doesn’t say anything about yoongi in the car. but both his hands are on the wheel. knuckles a little paler from holding onto the wheel.

“you don’t have to be part of eden’s board of directors.” he huffs, as though annoyed but from the way he continues, you know he’s not annoyed at you. he’s annoyed at himself. “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to - i don’t want to force anything on you.”

and you know - you know more than anyone how conscious namjoon is of things. from the change in your mood to the people that tries to get close to him because of his status - that’s also why he didn’t kiss you on your lips that day. but a kiss was the prerequisite of a vow so he kissed you on the forehead. the area where his lips landed burns your skin as your cheeks flush from the memory.

“i know.” you hesitate for a heartbeat but reach out to cover one of his hands on the wheel still. to let him know that you’re not just saying that to ease the guilt.

when you pull away from the thought of how risky and distracting what you did was, the hand that you were lightly caressing pulls at yours, intertwining your fingers as he keeps them on his thigh. your entire body burns from the contact yet you’re sitting frozen in your spot. it’s the gentle squeeze on your hand that brings you out of your shell-shock state. a smile tugs on your lips subconsciously as you squeeze back.

x

the following week, you almost got into a fight with namjoon when he caught you dressing up prettily. he told you it was okay not to attend these functions anymore - the ones your tight schedule barely allow you to. fight was an overstatement. your feelings were hurt when he’d kissed your temple and said, “it’s okay, you don’t have to push yourself.”

well, you were but he wasn’t seeing the bigger picture. “can’t you see? i wanna spend more time with you and the only way i can is if we attend these functions together.”

in hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have thrown your strapless black diamond purse at him out of frustration.

but the following functions, you did spend more time together. he’d declined the usual advancement of business people the way only kim namjoon could pull off - with a dimpled smile and a hand around your waist as if to indicate that they were interrupting - and they were. they’d come up to the both of you while you were telling namjoon about a new skillet spaghetti recipe you’d wanted to try making for the long overdue dinner you owe him. and you’d expected someone to approach namjoon and take his attention away but you didn’t think he’d decline them.

“hm? i don’t think we have tomatoes or beef. should we go grocery shopping?” he suggests calmly as though he didn’t just turn down the chairman of tvn broadcast. the man had to do a double take in case he had mistaken namjoon’s smooth rejection.

you place a hand on his chest, restraining the urge to pull your hand away as if you’ve touched fire. you knew he goes to the gym for an hour after work and his shirts always seem a size too small around his arms but you didn’t expect anything beyond that underneath that shirt of his. you clear your throat when you realize his neck is craned so he could look at you - give you all the attention in the world, “you know, we can discuss dinner some other time - when you’re free.”

but neither of you are free. you barely see each other at home because of your unpredictable schedule and his that’s set in stone.

“then what would you rather us talk about right now?” a corner of his lips tugs upwards. if you first met him, you wouldn’t easily dismiss the smile as nothing more than because of his amiable nature. but you’ve been married for almost five months now and you clearly pick up on the playfulness that lights up his eyes.

“the desserts.” you announce too quickly in an attempt to avert his attention from what he’s thinking - one thing you’ve realized is that namjoon is painfully aware of your blushing fits and your avoidance to look him in the eyes. “they’re nice, aren’t they?”

all of a sudden, he’s scooping a forkful of the chocolate souffle he’d picked up from the desserts section while you’d opted for the luscious almond torte. a small smirk tugs on his lips as he holds the fork to your mouth the way he does during breakfast. he knows you have no objections of being fed like a child but he also knows where you stand with public display of affection.

“say ‘aaaaa’ and i’ll give you a treat, doctor ___.” and he loves to tease you. he’s taken to calling you that because of that one incident where he’d seen you discuss about a patient with one of the nurses while you were on your way to meet him. in his own words, he’d ‘never seen you this scary before.’

in your defense, it was five minutes till lunch break so it was still working hours and you were acting the way you usually did at work - but you’d understand. the person you are with friends and the person you are at work are two separate entities. suppose you’ve mastered separating personal business and work. namjoon seems to take pleasure in making that steadfast side of you squirm and blush like a tomato.

your fingerpads gently grazes the back of his hand as you hold the fork in place before taking it in your mouth. your eyes flit over namjoon’s for the briefest moment before taking a step back, licking the residue of souffle off your lips.

“they really are nice.” you murmur as you throw your gaze at the stage where a man sits at the piano before flickering back to namjoon.

you wonder why he’s so quiet all of a sudden -

the man in question still has the empty fork in the air, eyes wide and staring at you, you would’ve thought he’d seen a ghost. until you notice the dust of pink across his cheek and spread to the tip of his ears.

oh?

x

mrs. kim’s fundraiser is held at the school where the children attended. about four canopies were set up on the field. one for the children’s activities - you remember reading something about coloring, origami-making and storybook reading.  the volunteers - possibly college students hoping to earn the graces of kimcorp’s president’s wife for an internship - already have the children huddled up in groups of three or four.

one canopy is specifically set up for a table of wide range of food - if there’s anything you like about these functions, it’s the abundance of food they never fail to prepare. as if spending a lot of money on a fundraising event is something to flex about.

the other two canopies are for the people of interest - acquaintances of mrs. kim and those who come with an ulterior motive be it to get sponsors for their own project, a business deal or simply to regain a higher social hierarchy by falling into your mother-in-law’s graces.

you press a light kiss on namjoon’s cheek before he’s whisked away by the second category. business men who jump at the sight of your ceo husband who got a fair warning from mrs. kim to “play nice. what’s gotten into you all of a sudden? these days i keep hearing things about you turning chairmen down! your father didn’t work this hard just to raise a stuck up son that could ruin his business in a matter of days.”

once you’ve had a slice of red velvet and tiny macaroons, you decide to hide yourself from the few people who try to do the same to you when namjoon is too preoccupied by the ones who claimed his attention first. just like preys on the top of the pyramid sinking its claws, the lower level preys couldn’t come close.

but one manages to follow you into one of the classrooms.

“nothing’s changed has it?’ yoongi stands in the doorway, tuxedo and brown loafers and all. hands tucked into both his pockets, he strides across the room and stops in front of the window that overlooks the light pink canopies and the people underneath them. “same old assholes using a charitable cause to proliferate their influence.”

the muscles on your face pulls your lips into a disapproving frown, “that’s how our parents manage to give us an education. a good life.” you don’t agree to the way they go about it but you give credit where it’s due.

yoongi scoffs, his shoulders jolting slightly. you can’t see his face as he stands with his back on you but you know he’s smirking that condescending smirk. the first time you saw it was when you were in your senior year of high school and yoongi was doing his masters in business and accounting. he’d looked down on the man who approached the two of you like he was scum just because everyone knew his company was wallowing in debt and he’s desperate enough to ask the lion who hates the jungle for help.

“always finding a middle ground. if you like what they do so much, why did you become a doctor? why didn’t you follow their footsteps, huh?”

you can’t help but let out a tired sigh. you’ve been here before. you’ve seen this. yoongi hates the world he’s born in and you understand why but you can never feel what he feels. “why are you here, yoongi? shouldn’t you be with naeun?” there’s a pause. a heartbeat before you decide to let yourself free. say what you want to say. “before the wolves get to her.”

“she’s fine.” it's almost offensive how haughty he sounds. he must either be aware of nauen’s innocence that makes the wolves eliminate the possibility of her being a threat or he just doesn’t care. the latter presumption makes your stomach churn.

did he also not care about you when you were together? when you went to these events as a couple?

“we should head back. it would be bad if anyone saw us alone like this even though we’re just talking.” and that’s that. you turn on your heels, making way to the door but before you can even take another step forward, lithe fingers wrap around your wrist.

“what?” it comes out harsher than you intend it. funny how you put on a face of a woman made out of steel when your knees can barely hold your weight the moment you feel his warm hand on your skin.

“i knew - i knew but i didn’t want to tie you down.” with his head lowered and his long hair, you can’t see his eyes for an idea of what he’s saying. 

“yoongi, what-”

“i knew how you felt.” at that moment, his grip on you loosens. it’s almost as though it’s an overdue confession and the weight on his shoulders has finally lifted, “you only knew me - you turned down every boy that tried to ask you out in high school and college. you -you were only looking at me and i didn’t want that on my shoulders - i didn’t want you to turn down every opportunity to life - to dating, to heart break to - to sex with someone - several someone’s just because we were engaged.”

his fingers traces down your index finger before falling away. but you won’t tell him - you can never do it to namjoon - that it took all of you not to twine your fingers with his just because it felt like he was letting go.

your breath hitches in your throat when you turn your cheek towards him. the sight before you is something you’d never thought you’d see in your entire life. yoongi’s pink dusts his otherwise snowflake skin. the bored expression he usually wears is gone - almost as if he’s never worn it his entire life as something akin to desperation pools in those dark eyes. his soft pink lips are agape as though he wants to say something. and you wait, wait, wait but he never does.

so you turn your back on him, heels clicking against the ground as you slip past the door without a word. only when you’re at the end of the hallway, do you turn the corner, back pressed against the wall because your buckling legs might not be able to handle your weight.

those unsaid words - you can hear them clearly: i fucking regret letting you go.

x

the following week, you spend by drowning yourself in work and later working on your research until the library closes. by the time you’re pressing the 20th floor to the penthouse you both shared, you know for certain namjoon’s gone to bed. he values his sleep time. says it’s essential to keep himself in a good mood so others who work with him would be at ease. sometimes you want to tell him it’s okay not to think about others for once but the words lay buried the depth of your heart because you’re exactly like him. suppressing your feelings, smiling and saying you’re okay even though you’re not. the only difference is there’s a side of you that wants to lash out, do something worse to those who hurt you while namjoon does it from the good of his heart.

“it’s hard, being nice.” he says in between the clink of the stirring of the spoon in his coffee mug.

you look up from the peanut butter you’re spreading over your toast. “hm?”

he shakes his head, as if to say it’s nothing, i’m just thinking out loud. but the words he says next is enough to make your heart drop right to the ground. “yoongi told me.”

“wh-what?” it’s denial in your tone - the combination of those three words are simple enough to take you back to the school nine days ago. in side that little classroom.

“yesterday. he came over to the office.” he shrugs as if it’s no big deal but the tensed line of his shoulders is apparent no matter how casually he brings the mug to his smiling lips - that too. his lips are smiling but his eyes are not.

you don’t know when or how you started noticing the little things. sensing namjoon’s moods - his reactions and his retractions. you never realized you were so in tune with the things he does. all you realize is you’re already able to read him like a book - thick, best-leather book that was safeguarded by a lock.

“namjoon,” the clink of the butter knife being set on your plate resonates like a pin drop in a vacuum room, “nothing happened. i promise.”

“i know - i know you’d never do anything like that so that’s why i’m telling you it’s okay.” something in the way he looks at you make you bite your tongue - as if he’s asking you to listen even though you’re bursting at the seams. you’d do anything to prove that nothing happened even though you knew he knew. “we entered into this marriage for a mutual reason. not dreading to come home is more than i can ask for. so it’s okay if you want to see yoongi just... keep out of the spotlight like many in our shoes who found love outside of it have.”

he chuckles but it’s strained and tense, dumping the coffee into the sink because he couldn’t bear to stay in the kitchen any longer. you slip out of the high stool, feet padding around the counter and before you know it, your arms around his body. you feel him freeze under your touch and this is wrong - wrong on so many levels because he would have asked if he could touch you and you’re not reflecting the same amount of respect he had for you.

but for some reason, you can’t let go - you’re afraid if you let him walk out of the door, you’d never be able to grasp even a shadow of his existence.

“i don’t want to.” the words are muffled from your cheek pressing against his back.

a pause lapses between you when you don’t say anything else. no explanation. no reason. because you don’t know it yourself. you don’t know why your heart clenches in your chest at the sight of namjoon’s dismal smile. you don’t know why you acted on your instincts and hugged the man.

you don’t know.

“okay.” he sighs softly as a warm palm rests above your fisted hand. you wish you can see him - wish you can see what kind of expression he’s making because it’s killing you to not know what he’s thinking. “you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

that’s when the sniffle escapes you. internally, you curse yourself for being so emotion-driven. it’s not a good trait for a doctor to have.

namjoon calls your name. the syllabus rolling off his tongue makes your stomach churn with butterflies. “are you crying?”

you don’t expect him to say that. don’t expect the teasing undertone either. naturally, your respond comes a heartbeat later, “n-no.”

the body under your touch shifts. all of a sudden, you’re eye-to-eye with him. there’s a sparkle in them that almost makes you forget how to breathe. his dimples dig into his cheek as his lips curl into a smile whilst his large hands frames you face.

“wh-what?” you feel your brows furrowing, lips pursed.

“you’re too cute.” his thumb grazes your burning cheekbone feather light, “i want to kiss you.”

“then do it.” you don’t know the reason behind that angry, pressed tone but namjoon doesn’t seem to mind - or he knows something you don’t.

you don’t have the time to ponder on that when a pair of lush lips meshes with yours. the scent of the coffee he had engulfs your senses as one hand finds its way to the back of his neck and the other rests on his accelerating heartbeat. time seems to stop when namjoon’s kissing you. somewhere in the back of your mind, you distinctly remember something perpetually important but you couldn’t be bothered as his hands fall away from your face and finds the dip of your lower back and pull you closer until your bodies are pressed together.

somewhere in a distant, you hear the beep of the front door. hoseok’s voice booming across the hallway that leads to the living room and the kitchen where you’re at now.

“namjoon? you here? did you oversleep? man, i never thought i’d see the day our ceo is late to work.” hoseok’s footsteps stops at the end of the hallway, “oh great, you’re all dressed.”

he blinks, surprised at the sight of his boss who’s leaning against the edge of the sink - hands pressed on either side of the edge, doing absolutely nothing while you dip a butter knife into a jar of peanut butter and jelly but equally as out-of-it as his boss appear to be.

“y-yeah, let me grab my blazer.” namjoon pushes himself off, going around the counter and heading towards the stairs where his bedroom is until -

“it’s here.” hoseok points out.

“what?”

“your blazer. it’s this one, right?” the secretary loyally scoops up the thick maroon blazer off the couch and hands it to his boss who’s just barely recovered from what seems to be a trance. 

he’d went down and tossed the blazer on the couch before making his coffee - before the kiss.

namjoon clears his throat, refusing to look at the man’s scrutinizing eyes as he thanks him and slips the blazer on. but he loses those eyes when he peeks over the man’s shoulder, mini-waving at you, “hey, morning, doc.”

you return the greeting, refraining a blush as you feel the ghost of namjoon’s lips when you fix his secretary a smile, “hey, hoseok. care to join us for breakfast?”

the man shrugs, eyes flitting over his boss who now seems ready to go, “thanks doc but i had some cereal and cold milk.”

he bids his farewell and escapes out of where he came from, letting the two of do what newly weds do before the other goes to work. it’s in that moment that he realizes with a chill running down his spine as he sat in the driver seat - that namjoon isn’t a bachelor anymore and he couldn’t come and go as he pleases and that he might have interrupted something. come to think of it, both you and namjoon’s cheeks were flushed...

“h-hey boss,” hoseok steals a glance of the man at the backseat through the rear view mirror. he almost chokes on his next words when the man’s eyes meet him but he persists like a man on a mission to not get fired , “y-you know, i’ve been with kimcorp. f-for a long time. i-it’s like my family a-and i’ll work harder from now on.”

confusion flashes across namjoon’s features for the briefest moment. he doesn’t know what makes hoseok say something so out of his character and shakily at that but it’s not the first time that his employee’s said something like this to him - of course, minus the stutter and all.

“that’s good to know, hoseok.” he says simply.

x

it’s been a week since you told namjoon you didn’t - wouldn’t see anyone. yoongi or not. when you told him you were going to meet yoongi at a cafe near his studio to give the man an answer - a hard no, there’s still some needling doubt in namjoon’s gaze as he reverts his eyes away from you. as though he was afraid that the illusion would fade away and he’d end up catching the smolder of passion he’d always seen you look at the man with.

he’s not lost to your feelings - in hindsight, it was pathetically obvious how smitten you were for the elder man. even your and his parents could see. and they’d foreseen many things but not having to plead and then beg and then finally, force you into a marriage you didn’t want with the brother of the man you loved.

your only regret was leaving without kissing namjoon goodbye - but it also felt like anything you said, any sort of assurance you offered would just be an act. until you tell his brother to stop.

“come to think of it,” you set the warm cup of latte down. it would have tasted better if the circumstances were different, “we never properly ended things. the only way i knew the engagement was over was through mom and dad.” his parents you meant.

he tilts his head to the side as a response - an indication that he’s listening. he’s dressed in plain white shirt and the darkest jeans. the bags under his eyes is an indication that he hasn’t slept in days - either it’s because of working late nights trying to make music or because of what he’d said to you.

you know he’d do this - detach himself from reality when things gets tough or when he’s stuck in a situation he doesn’t have control over. but you still had hope. still held onto the past seven years you’d spent together for him to regard you with enough respect to offer closure.

“do you love naeun that much?” and yet you still ask.

you meet his hollow gaze, not knowing the intensity yours hold until your fingerpads wrapped around aches and he lets out a heavy breath.

“she was different.” he says simply - almost tiredly, “she caught my eyes. we started talking and we found out we had some things in common. i thought she’s what i needed to get over you.”

“don’t.” the churning starts from your stomach and spreads across your body like a poisonous fog. “don’t use me as an excuse for leaving. you loved me as much as i loved you and you got scared.”

a lump forms in your throat as the memories, the inside jokes that built up over time, the comfortable silents spent - everything comes crashing in like tidal wave. you knew he loved you deep down. that was why the news of him getting married took a toll on you - so much so, you decided to leave everything behind and fly to paris.

“you could’ve pushed me away if you truly had no feelings for me but you kept me around and let me think we were going to have a happy future together.” his image is distorted from the prickles of tears in your eyes but you blink them away, “but you didn’t really know you were in love with me back then, huh? that’s why you got scared shitless and decided to leave.” you’re not sure if you’re choking on your words or if you’re actually scoffing. maybe both.

in that moment, you watch as yoongi’s expression switches from that signature boredom to realization and finally unbridled sorrow. he must feel suffocated - like he’s drowning in emotions the way you did in that suite you spent for two weeks in paris before you decided to buy an apartment and stay for good. and you would have if your parents didn’t call you back - recounted all their sacrifices for you to make you guilty enough to agree to the marriage with his younger brother. he’ll spend the same amount of time sleeping and waking up in his room and realizing he can’t turn back time.

“i fucked up big time, didn’t i?” he laughs dryly as he presses his palm to his face, hunched over the minute round table.

the latte is still half-full when you swipe your phone off the table and stand up. he doesn’t spare you a glance - he probably couldn’t bring himself to face you now.

‘you’re a fucking coward min yoongi.’ is what you want to say but for some reason, you leave the words to die on the tip of your tongue. you won’t - can’t wish him a happy life and propose to put everything past you. it’s not that simple and you’re not that forgiving. but namjoon’s easy smile flashes at the back of your head at this moment of all time and makes your heart clench painfully in your chest. their relationship is already strained and if you insist on prolonging this, it’s only going to end up hurting namjoon one way or another and the cycle will just keep going on with naeun getting hurt if she found out.

“you did.” your hand is trembling around the strap of your bag, “but it’s all in the past and i don’t blame you. things wouldn’t turn out the way they do otherwise. so just... live for the present, yoongi.”

his shoulders rise and fall a little faster than normal but there’s nothing you can do - and it’s better if you leave him to collect his thoughts. the censor at the door beeps as you pass through. it takes a moment for you to feel the morning air brush your cheeks and sunlight to seep into you. your chest still feels tight but in due time, you know it’ll lighten.

x

“hey, boss. you have a special guest.” hoseok peeks into namjoon’s office like the slyboots he is. the wiggle of the man’s brows before he disappears gives namjoon all the more reason to prepare for the worse.

“send them in.” he sighs, not bothering to hide his feelings in front of hoseok. they’ve been working side by side for a long time and friends for longer he knows his friend is aware of the contrasting definition of ‘special’ but this once, as he sees you walk through the door - he admits that him and hoseok may finally be of the same mind.

namjoon shoots up from his seat, clearing his throat and buttoning his blazer together the way he’s so used to doing it when he receives an unannounced visit from his father. “what brings you here?”

instead of shooting him one of your brilliant smiles, you drop your bag on the crisp white leather couch and run right into him. arms wrapped around his torso, he can smell your favorite floral shampoo from your hair but he can’t bring himself to hug you back. his heart is palpitating inside his chest and he can only pray for some miracle that you can’t hear it. which is most unlikely what with your head coming up just a few centimeters above his shoulder line and your ears being the same height as the beating organ in his chest.

if you notice, you're not saying anything about it.

“i met yoongi just now.”

namjoon doesn’t say a word for the longest time - it’s so namjoon of him not to. but it’s also not where you stand now. that day, when you partially admitted to liking namjoon and you’re pretty sure he felt the same - you’d seen a side of namjoon you never thought you’d saw. vulnerable. fearful. all because he thought he was going to lose you - and it felt like he’s always been prepared for it. it was just a matter of time.

the muscles in your arms contracts at the thought of namjoon being so ready to let you go - is it like that too, right now? is he expecting you to go back on your words and tell him you’re going to have an affair with his brother? you don’t know and that’s driving you insane. 

and just when the muscles in your arm contract, just when you’re about to pull away, namjoon’s arms band around your body and a kiss lands on top of your head.

“did you tell him what you wanted to tell him all this time?” his voice is velvet and smooth and you can hear that easy smile as he speaks.

you nod against his chest. “it’s over. i told him to get lost.”

the chest vibrates against your cheek as rings of chuckles tumble out of namjoon’s mouth. it makes your body light up with a sort of fire. and for once, you welcome the heat spreading across your cheeks like an old friend.

he knows the last part is a bluff - it’s comforting that he knows without having you say it.

does he also know...

“after that i came here because i wanted to see you.” you crane your neck to look up at him.

true enough there’s that smile and gets wider when he meets your gaze. a hand comes to rest on your neck while his thumb grazes your chin as he presses his lips to yours. you think your heart might explode at any moment now as you kiss him back, your hand snaking to his shoulder but he stops your right hand, holding it on his chest. his heart beats the same rhythm as yours. his shoulder line heaving the same way yours do when the back of your thighs hit the couch and you finally break apart. but before you have the chance to gather your thoughts, his lips are on you again. the hand on your lower back pulling you closer until your thighs press on either side of his legs.

“let’s go home now.” he murmurs between breaths, “i might really go crazy if i touch another part of your body that’s covered in clothing.”

it’s in that moment that the door swings open.

x

hoseok bursts through the door with the photostatted files in his hand. there’s a skip in his step.

“hey boss! here’s the files you asked for.”

he looks between you - well your back - and namjoon. the ceo is fixing his tie with a hard expression while you’re standing facing the ceiling-to-floor window that overlooks the streets and several stores in the area.

d-did he just walk into you two fighting?

“thanks, hoseok.” namjoon swipes the files from his hand, walking back to his seat around the desk and dropping the files with a sharp pap!

“n-no problem boss.” he takes one frightened step backwards before turning around but before he manages to escape the lion’s den, you stop him.

“hoseok wait.” it comes out a bit rushed. granted, you’re not in any position to waste time. you dropped by even though you know you can’t afford being late to work but somehow you ended up at namjoon’s office anyway. the secretary seems to physically turn into a rock before shakily turn his cheek to you with a smile.

“uh, yeah doc?”

“namjoon, do you mind me borrowing hoseok for a bit?” the heat comes on full force as you turn to namjoon. he’s burning a hole through the files he’s flipping through but you don’t miss the pinked tips of his ears and the way his adam’s apple bobs at the sound of his name on your tongue, “my shift is starting at noon so i need to be there by,” you check the watch on your wrist, “now.”

the way namjoon doesn’t even look up from flipping the papers is how hoseok know for sure you’re fighting. “sure thing. oh and hoseok, no detours. come straight back once you drop ___ off.”

but to you, it’s because he’s flustered beyond imagination - you know, like you know how he’ll condemn himself for not being able to control himself like that. your whole body heats up as you slip into the back seat when the image of namjoon’s hooded eyes, reddened cheeks and half agape lips flash at the back of his mind. a part of you - the reasonable one - chides yourself for even thinking about ditching work and actually going home with him but another part wishes to indulge in the endless possibilities of what will happen if you did.

x

“____,” your name tumbles out of namjoon’s mouth in a breathy huff. naturally so. he hasn’t even caught his breath from when he finds you crawling over him like a woman in on a mission. now, the same exact woman his cuffing his wrists and holding them over his head with one hand while the other is undoing the buttons of his shirt while she kisses him in all the right places.

“wh-where did you even get cuffs?” his headboard is one of those pristine white cushioned ones meaning there isn’t any rails for you to hook him on and keep him in place. but you don’t need that because namjoon can barely move - all that time he spends at the gym has gone down the drain as invisible threads tie him down.

“oh these?” you let one corner of your lips tug deviously. it’s been six months since you got married and you and namjoon has never gone past the occasional cuddles and light kisses. the morning after that day when you dropped by his office after meeting yoongi, namjoon had declared his intentions to ‘do it right’ - like dates and getting to know each other better before anything else. 

it was sweet of him. until you realized you barely had time for dates - only late night conversations that ended up with you on top of him but before things could progress, he’d do everything he could to avoid bedroom affairs. but over time, it gets a bit discouraging. so this is the last straw - there’s no wine or champagne for him to use as an excuse to carry you to your room. you’re both sober, and if he doesn’t want you -

“never mind where i got these.” the low sound emitting from his throat makes your heart skip a beat as your lips brush against the shell of his ear, “don’t you want me, namjoon?”

trailing hisses down his smooth jawline, you let your lips hover over his - it only lasts for a heartbeat before he closes the distance and starts kisses you like a famine beast.

“i want you,” he confesses when you pull away just to reinforce your control. he may be the one lying down with his hands bound but it almost felt like you’re the hopeless one here - almost. the  a feral glint in his eyes sends hot waves down your core - you have to tell yourself to breathe. “of course i fucking want you ___.”

you hum in contemplation - taking just enough time to sit straighter and let your fingers undo the rest of the buttons and stopping just above his belt. the few times you laid together and he lets you lie on top of him - you knew he was brains and brawn. but you didn’t expect a perfectly sculpted body of adonis himself to be lying beneath you. the ridges of his abs heaves helplessly as he drawn in deep breaths. 

somewhere on the edge of the bed where you’d tossed it, your phone vibrates - someone’s calling but that can wait.

you lean down, soft tresses brushing his skin as you kiss that spot that illicit a delicious sound from him the first time you discovered it. somewhere in the junction between his shoulder and neck.

“fuck.” his voice is raw and desperate and carnal as his body yearns for you. his legs bent at the knees, feet ground into the bed as he grinds his hip into you - the signs of his arousal painfully obvious.

you can’t help but giggle at the way he so vehemently yearn for you. somewhere on the bed, your phone starts vibrating again.

“y-your phone.” he manages to stammer out. it’s the third time it’s vibrating.

“don’t worry about it. the only people who would call me at this time is jisoo’s drunken butt dial or the hospital-” you sit back up, heat still pooling in your stomach when your hips grind against namjoon’s arousal in the process but the urgency in the way you swipe your phone off the sheets has stolen your attention.

clear as day, it is one of the two possibilities you’ve mentioned and it isn’t your quirky colleague.

x

when you first started working, you were of the ripe age and eager to help those in need. you loved your job despite the long arduous hours, missed meals and ungodly hour roll calls because at the end of the day, it was what you wanted to do - it was the one thing you wouldn’t let your parents take away from you. you fought blood sweat and tears to get where you are now.

and doctors don’t usually start a family until they’ve at least finished their residency - but you had to get married early to keep your end of the bargain. of course, you didn’t expect to commit to said marriage. you didn’t also expect to fall for namjoon either. and you certainly didn’t expect for him to still be here in the waiting area when you walked out of the emergency operating room, head lulling to the side as sleep begins to take him, arms crossed over his chest. he didn’t even get the chance to change when you hurriedly uncoffed him, informing him about an emergency at the er. he’d offered to drive you since you couldn’t drive and waiting for an uber driver to accept your request this late at night would take more time. you’d rushed out of the car with a ‘thanks, namjoon. i owe you one!’ thinking he’d go home and get some rest - there’s no telling how long these surgeries take after all.

when he leans too far to the side, his eyes flutter open softly before noticing the turquoise-clad body in his periphery.

“___, you’re done? did the surgery go alright?” he’s always had a way of saying your name. it makes your heart warm and your chest full as he stands up to close the distance between you - to cup one side of your cheek with his hand. though your delayed response may have been the reason for that.

“the surgery was a success.” you finally say, your smaller hand covering his, lips curving softly. guilt creeps up the creeks of your chest but gratitude washes it away. it wouldn’t have been very namjoon of him if he didn’t consider everything: how you’d go home once you’re done. if there’s even any uber working this late of an hour. your heart is swelling - you don’t think you can ever love him more than you do now but namjoon being namjoon, he’ll make you fall in love with him more and more until your heart is filled to the brim, “thank you, namjoon.”

and he gets it. just like that. the words that you’re saying without putting them into words because there are many ways to say it and a plethora of intrepreting it but namjoon gets it because his heart beats the same rhythm as you: i love you.

a dimpled smile curls over his lips as he places a kiss over your forehead, “should we go home?” he leans down to whisper into your ears, his tone changing dangerously, “and pick up where we left off, yeah doc?”

#bts smut #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #namjoon #bts #bts fic #namjoon fic #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon scenarios #namjoon x reader #bts namjoon smut #bts namjoon #namjoon fics #bts au #namjoon au #bts fluff #bts angst #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #husband!namjoon #ceo!namjoon #doctor!reader #arranged marriage au

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 4

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff with a bit of lemon zest 🍋 The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral sex, between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

(My GIF)

“Angel....” he sighed.

“Billy....” you smiled lazily, “...you’re such a big sap.” His barking laugh rang out loud in the room.

He rolled off you, laying on his back, stretching and turning his head to look at you, smiling. “Not somethin’ you should really be sayin’ to an ex-Marine, sweetheart.” You shrugged, “Not if it’s true.” “So, first I’m a puppydog and now I’m a big sap?” You nodded, “Yes. Yes, you are.” He rolled back onto you, kissing you again. “Okay, okay, I’m a big sap. But not a puppydog, alright?”

“Oh, alright,” you grumbled, pushing back an errant lock of that hair. Then you ran your fingers through the whole lush mass of it. He grinned, “You really like my hair, hmmm?” You were still playing with it. “Yeah. So what if I do?” He shook his head forward, so that several strands of it tickled your face. “Another little thing I know about you now.” You blew the strands off, and began pushing them back over his brow again. “Gonna use it against me, Russo?” He chuckled, “You bet.”

He rolled away and stood up next to the bed, pulling the condom off and knotting it before throwing it casually into a bin under the bedside table. A nasty little voice in your head muttered, strategically placed bin, looked very practiced doing that, you sure he doesn’t bring women back here? Oh shut up, you silently answered.

“Like some more wine?” You nodded, so he strolled out of the bedroom (you were totally watching that tight ass walk away) and returned a few moments later holding two glasses. He held one out to you, which you took and sipped from. Really good wine, you thought.

He lay down next to you, taking a drink of his own wine and just gazing at you. “What?” you asked. “What?” he parroted back at you. You poked his shoulder, “Why are you staring at me like that?” He took another drink, eyes never leaving yours over the rim of the glass. “So I can’t just sit and look at my beautiful girlfriend?” You laughed out loud, “What?! Did you just use the G word, Russo? You’re joking, right?” He grinned back at you, “Are you sayin’ you don’t wanna be my girlfriend?” You were surprised to see his grin fade a little the longer you gazed back at him.

Sitting up straighter, you said, “Billy.... tell me you are joking with me? We’ve known each other for like, 5 minutes! And you’re a player, and a very busy boy and I’m a very busy girl. I like you, I really do... but this is all just a bit of fun between us, right?...what else could it be at this stage?” You were surprised when a real frown appeared on his handsome face and he looked away from you. He sat up, resting his wrists on his raised knees, wine glass dangling between them from his long fingers.

“What else...?” He turned his head to look at you, “...somethin’ real. Maybe you don’t, but I feel a deep connection between us, even this early in. Like, I can be myself with you. Without all the bullshit.” You took a long sip of your wine, maintaining eye contact, considering what he’d just said. You reached out and ran your thumb across his bristly chin. “I do think we clicked, Billy. And I’d like to see you again, if you want to.” His fingers went to your thumb where it lingered on his face, and he stroked your skin. “Yes, I do want to. And I want to keep doing this. I mean... us sleeping together.” You laughed, “Now why am I not surprised?” He gave you a small, almost shy smile, “Okay, then.” He put his wine glass on the bedside table and lay back down, propping himself up on an elbow, “You gonna stay the night?”

Taking another sip of your wine, you nodded, “Yeah, think I will. See? I’m even willing to do the walk of shame I promised myself I wouldn’t do for you, Billy.” Now a big genuine grin from him beamed its way to you, “I’m honoured.” “Yes, you should be,” you said, smirking and leaning forward to kiss him softly.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You and Billy had disappeared under the covers after that, kissing, touching and eventually snuggling into each other before you fell asleep. Waking first in the morning, you looked across the pillow at the exquisite vision that was Sleeping Russo. His face was relaxed and peaceful, his hair tousled and laying over his forehead, lips ever so slightly parted - you could just hear him giving out tiny little breathy snores. He had one arm thrown over your hips, pinning you against him.

Thinking over what he’d said last night, you allowed yourself to be a bit overwhelmed by it. You still weren’t really sure that he’d been serious, but it had sounded like it. Calling you his girlfriend after knowing you for only a few days? That was way too soon, and also didn’t sit well with his super-confident ‘I’m a CEO - look at me - how fuckable am I?’ persona. And you’d seen the reactions of the women in that bar on your first ‘date’, and even in the restaurant yesterday evening.

The eyes of every woman in the place had been pulled towards Billy like a magnetic force was in play as he’d walked in with you. Then their eyes had flickered over you with something close to disdain. Yeah, thanks for looking at me as if I’m a piece of trash. Well, you mentally shrugged, sorry bitches, I’m the one who got to go home with him. And then got to have him.

A tingle ran right through you as your memory provided a reel of you and Billy having sex. Then your mind went back to the ‘girlfriend’ thing, and you couldn’t deny that it gave you a little bit of a thrill that he’d actually said that. But then that annoyingly sensible part of your brain said, “Hey, just chill! Take things easy, see where it goes.” You tried to ignore the other side which was yelling, “Go for it! Tell him hell yes you’ll be his girlfriend.”

You extricated yourself from underneath Billy’s arm and headed to the bathroom, pulling his long white tank undershirt on as you went. Mmmm.. your nose said, Aroma di Russo. Looking into the bathroom mirror, you decided you looked like you’d gone several rounds in the ring with Mike Tyson.

Trying to repair the damage somewhat, you washed your face, swirled some toothpaste round your winey-breathed mouth followed by a ‘rock chick head banging’ rearrangement of your hair. Well now you just looked like Lady Gaga on a bad day. Shrugging, you padded back through to the bedroom, finding a pair of dark chocolate eyes regarding you from the bed as you walked in.

‘Buon giorno,” you smiled at him, getting a big smile back in return, his eyes now sparkling with mischief. “Mornin’ to you too, angel. Uhhh... now what was it someone was sayin’ to me last night about matching clothes?” “Ha ha smartass.. we are not matching, I am wearing one item of your clothing.” Chuckling, he beckoned you back to the bed, but you shook your head, “I better get going, Billy, it’s later than I thought.” You’d been a little surprised to find out it was 10am, you never slept that late - well, not recently since you’d had your own business to run. “It’s Saturday!” he protested, “Where have you gotta be so urgently on a Saturday?”

“I always check in at both cafés on a Saturday morning, it’s our busiest day. And help out if needed.” He contemplated you from his position lazing on the pillows, “A hands-on boss. I’m impressed. I like to be hands-on too.” He saw you rolling your eyes and he said, “Hey! I am actually talking about my business practices here!” You laughed, “OK, OK, I’ll accept the truth of that statement!” You started picking up your clothes, throwing them on quickly and grabbing your phone to call an Uber.

“No, no,” said Billy, leaping athletically out of bed, giving you a nice eyeful as he did so. “I’ll take you home then I’m coming along with you to work.” Your jaw dropped, “Why would you wanna do that, Billy?” He was heading for the bathroom, and said over his shoulder, “Cos I want to spend some more time with you, is that okay?” You spluttered, “Well... yeah, fine,” to his departing back.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d grabbed a quick shower at home - declining Billy’s offer to join you. “I know you already showered before we left your place,” you admonished him. “Can’t be too clean,” he smirked, “maybe there were some places I missed and only you can reach.” Groaning out an “Uhhh!”, you disappeared into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. Not a moment too soon as the door handle rattled a split second afterwards. “Now that’s just not fair!” you heard from the other side of the door. You turned on the shower, grinning at the constant string of pleas from outside but ignoring them all.

Dressed casually for your weekend café visits, Billy dropped you off in Greenwich Village and joined you a few minutes later in the café, after finding a parking space. Here, your three co-workers were already knee-deep in customers, and you were busy taking someone’s order to their table when he stepped through the door. Your stomach did a backflip, and you took a moment to appreciate just how especially hot he was looking today. Black jeans, black V-neck T, black combat boots, topped off with his leather jacket.

Once again, all female eyes tracked onto him like lasers, including your three staff - Stace, Amy and Jen. You sighed, welcome to your new normal you thought. However Billy’s eyes were locked on you, and he smiled, indicating with a raised finger that he was heading to an empty table. You nodded back, mouthing “Two minutes,” at him as you cleared off a table. And now all the female eyes were on you, with a mixture of curiosity and no doubt a dash of jealousy mixed in there. You returned to the counter, walking behind it carrying two coffee cups and a plate, which you rinsed and popped into the industrial-sized dishwasher.

Jen sidled up to you, she was the Jake equivalent at this café. Before she could say anything, you smirked, “He’s my new... friend, okay?” She looked at you, wide-eyed, “Now don’t take this the wrong way, but I would. He’s really hot!” She was just about the only one who could get away with that comment, and you laughed, “You can look, ragazza, but you better not touch!” Her hands went up, innocent look on her face, “Wouldn’t dream of it!” “Can you pass on the gossip to the girls?” you asked, “I’m off to sit with my hot boyfriend.” Moving to the nearest Gaggia, you all of a sudden realised what you’d called him. Oh. You’d better watch that.

Carrying two double macchiatos over to where Billy sat scrolling through his phone, you informed him that you were going to refine his palate, coffee-wise. Amy followed in your footsteps, bearing a plate of pastries. She gawped unashamedly at Billy as she put the plate down in the middle of the table. You sighed inwardly, she was young and had no filter sometimes. “Thanks, Amy,” you emphasised her name, and she snapped out of it, looking at you guiltily before smirking and walking away. You in turn smirked at Billy, “You have a fan.” He laughed, “She’s a kid.” “Yes, she is, and currently sporting heart-eyes for my....” you stopped speaking briefly then continued, “...but she’s a quick learner, she’s only been with us a few weeks and she already makes a mean coffee.”

He added sugar to his coffee, smiling, “What’s this then?” “Macchiato. Espresso, but with a dash of milk foam.” Raising the small cup to his lips, he sipped. “Mmmm, yeah it’s good. A bit stronger than I usually take my coffee, but yeah... I can see you succeedin’ in refining my tastes.” He placed the cup back in the saucer, looking back up at you suddenly, “What were you gonna say? When you said she had heart-eyes for me. Your... what?” He was smirking at you, but his eyes were serious. Truthfully, you’d been about to say ‘boyfriend’ but you weren’t about to admit that to him. You placed your hand on his arm, “Friend, of course.” His hand covered yours, eyes boring into yours, “Well why didn’t you just say that? Hmm?” You could just feel yourself blushing, shit! he’d sussed you out, you were sure of it, but you just laughed, “I don’t know. Cos I hadn’t had my coffee yet, maybe?”

His hand left yours, and he chuckled, shaking his head, “Yeah, okay.” Watching him picking up a pastry and biting into it, you found yourself staring at his mouth before shaking yourself out of your mini-trance. He asked, “So, are we headin’ over to Chelsea soon?” and you nodded, also choosing a pastry and munching on it. “And afterwards?” he questioned you. You thought for a moment, “We could head back to my place for some lunch.” “Yeah, I like the sound of that,” he agreed, devilish smirk in place, “with a hot and sexy session in bed as afters.” You lightly slapped his wrist, “Billy!” your head swivelling to see who might have overheard him - he hadn’t particularly kept his voice down.

You spotted a young woman at the table behind glaring at you as if she was offended, not by the conversation, but by the very fact that you were sitting there with Billy. You quickly looked away from her. Lordy, at this rate you were going to end up with a knife between your shoulder blades just for sharing the same breathing space as Billy. Shortly afterwards, Billy headed for the door as you went over to say Bye to your team. Meeting up with him outside, you saw him looking at a small scrap of paper before screwing it up and tossing it into a wastebin. “What was that?” you queried. Grinning, he said, “Woman at the next table gave me her number on my way out.”

As you two were still standing by the café window, your turned your head until you met the disappointed eyes and angry face of the woman who’d glared at you earlier. You knew she’d just seen Billy throw her number in the trash. Normally you would’ve flipped her off just to drive home the point, but you reminded yourself that she was a customer of yours, so instead you smirked at her, stretching up and softly kissing Billy. He slid his fingers onto your neck and up onto your jaw, kissing you back. It wasn’t as full-on as the kiss in Chelsea had been - which was just as well as she wasn’t the only one watching - but it was enough to send her a metaphorical finger.

You’d then strolled off with him, taking his hand as you did and intertwining your fingers with his. He seemed pleased about this, looking down and smiling at your linked hands. A twinge of guilt hit you, as you’d done it solely to further piss off that blatant bitch who you well knew was still watching and seething with jealousy, but then you did have to admit it felt.... actually quite nice.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The lunch at your apartment had been really enjoyable. You’d prepared one of your favourite dishes, using fresh pasta you’d made a couple of days prior, and which had been waiting in the fridge just so it could make a suitable entrance. Billy had been fascinated, watching you make ravioli parcels with it and filling them with white crab meat, seasoning as you went along. Then you’d made a light butter and sage sauce to go with it and some garlic bread to have on the side.

He’d polished off stacks of it, saying it was so good that he was going to kidnap you and hold you captive in his kitchen. “Oh, yeah...” you scoffed, “...what is it all those cavemen like to say about women... keep them barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, right?!!”

“If you insist,” accompanied by a smirk and a sly wink. “Not a chance, Mr Russo.”

Even bigger smirk, “We’ll just have to see, won’t we, sweetheart?”

You took the conversation to the bedroom, joking with Billy that while you were indeed a total and utter goddess, there was no way you’d ever end up being a domestic goddess. Billy was laughing, removing your clothes and his in the meantime, while you still chattered on. He finally got you to stop talking by pinning you down underneath him and kissing you with heated passion, telling you that yes, you were his goddess and as such, he was going to worship at your feet.

Billy got up and pulled you smoothly forward by your ankles until you were lying half off the bed, then spent rather a lot of time with his head between your legs, before bestowing a further offering upon your body. This second generous votive consisted of him pleasuring you with his impressive erection, and was the most sensual and prolonged example of worship you’d ever experienced in your immortal goddess-type life. This you graciously and very loudly accepted from your devotee.

You and he fell into a light sleep, both spent after your exertions. Just before you drifted off, you heard Billy whisper, “Next time m’gonna eat some of that pasta right off that gorgeous body of yours,” and your dreams ended up full of Billy, and food, and wine, and sex. And grapes. Well, you were a goddess after all, so you had to have a bunch of grapes to nibble on, right?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Waking up on Sunday morning, there was a notable lack of a warm body beside you in your bed. Had he just left?...you wondered.... without even waking you? He’d better not have. Not if he wanted to retain his crown jewels, you thought grimly. You got up, rustled around in your drawer for a long t-shirt and pulling it on, walked through to your open-plan living area. There in your kitchen, stood a naked Billy Russo in all his splendour, his back to you as he held the handle of a pan on the cooker, stirring the contents with one of your favourite neon-coloured big kitchen spoons.

“Mornin’, goddess,” he called to you, sniper senses picking up your arrival within his vicinity. You were just smiling at his use of your new pet name when he turned towards you. He leant back on the cooker, arms folded across his chest, giving you a real eyeful of his toned torso and the rest of his ‘equipment’, as he’d called it. You momentarily lost the ability to speak - goddamn that man was a work of art. Quickly recovering, you managed to say, “Morning, Marine.”

A grin curved his lips upwards, “How d’you like your eggs in the mornin’, ma’am?”

“Over easy,” you grinned back. He tapped his shoulder a couple of times with the kitchen spoon, “Ummm.. how about scrambled? And then I’ll give you the “over easy” version afterwards.”

That damn smirk of his, you thought, it’s downright dangerous.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Amazing artwork created for this chapter by @lauraeartwork 🥰

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine

[spaceshipkat]

i think so much of writing respectfully and inclusively is being aware of what you’re putting down on the page. what do i mean by this? what better author to focus on than sj///m, right? i’ll start with CCity on this, since it’s the one where it’s most obvious she’s trying so hard to fix her mistakes, but the problem always comes back to her fundamental misunderstanding of why and how her shit is problematic in the first place and what she must do to fix said problematic shit. 

i’m sticking this under a cut bc, surprise surprise, i rambled 😌

take, for instance, Hunt: i think it’s pretty widely-accepted he’s coded as a MOC, (potentially an Asian-coded man) since he’s given “golden-brown skin” and “angular” eyes. sj//m was trying to be more inclusive by writing him in such a way that he shouldn’t be perceived as white, but what she failed to realize is two big things: 1) the fact he’s a slave of centuries who is constantly tortured, mutilated, and manipulated by his oppressors, and 2) the fact he lusts after and is demeaned by Bruce, a white girl. furthermore, Bruce constantly makes comments about how Hunt should fight back, shouldn’t allow himself to remain a slave, and taunts him into either disobeying Micah (the man he’s enslaved to) or killing for her. it’s made clear time and time again that Hunt doesn’t like that he’s an assassin for Micah, and yet there are so many instances of him wanting to kill or hurt someone for Bruce, which not only makes his characterization inconsistent, it plays into the problematic trope of the dark-skinned aggressor (a trope that sj///m seems to be particularly fond of, what with the Illyrians). 

(on the topic of Hunt, a quick side-note: the idea of the “alphahole” that comes up again and again in CCity and that antis have critiqued up the wazoo (though not with the “alphahole” colloquialism until CCity came along, but i don’t think many antis actually use “alphahole” as anything but a joke when talking about her obvious love of the hypermasculine alpha male). sj///m is clearly trying to call out her past mistakes and work to rectify them going forward, but she completely fails bc she only succeeds at 1) mocking her readers, who are often fans of hers bc they like the alpha male douchebag sj///m is infamous for, and 2) making herself sound like an idiot when she calls out “alphahole” behavior while actively writing “alphaholes” and making them (possible) endgame love interests (i say possible bc it’s anyone’s guess if sj///m will actually subvert everyone and their mother’s expectations by making Hunt endgame). Hunt is an “alphahole,” even if he’s not quite as bad as riceman or rowboat and even if sj///m thinks she’s not actually writing an “alphahole”. with his aforementioned behavior toward anyone who’s mean to Bruce (aka wanting to kill them for her), he still falls under the “alphahole” category.

but i digress.)

another example of sj///m writing without being aware of what she’s actually putting on the page is her inclusion of queer rep. sj///m queerbaits quite a lot with Danika, thanks to lines she has involving Bruce and her relationship with Bruce, not to mention how many times others wonder if Bruce and Danika are “just” best friends and not actually lovers. we have Hunt wonder about it, after all, several times iirc. one that stands out the most is when he says that they have to be more than “just” best friends because Bruce doesn’t mourn Danika like someone mourns “just” their best friend, thus implying that Bruce is mourning Danika like a lover and/or spouse (bc obviously people can’t be torn to pieces over losing their best friend in a horrific attack, right?). 

here’s some lines that have romantic connotations bc i am nothing if not a historian who likes citations: 

page 38 of my ebook: 

Danika just said it. “If he grabs his phone to check his messages before his dick’s barely out of you again, please have the self-respect to kick his balls across the room and come home to me.” 

page 45 of my ebook: 

But it was Danika’s added “Love you” as [Bruce] slipped out into the grimy hallway that made her hesitate with her hand on the knob. 

It’d taken Danika a few years to save those words, and she still used them sparingly. Danika had initially hated it when [Bruce] said them to her—even when [Bruce] explained that she’d spent most of her life saying it, just in case it was the last time. In case she wouldn’t get to say goodbye to the people who mattered most. And it had taken one of their more fucked-up adventures[...]to get Danika to utter the words, but at least she now said them. Sometimes. 

page 258 of my ebook (aka the line of Hunt’s i referenced above): 

The silence pressed on [Hunt] enough that he asked, “Were you and Danika lovers?” 

He’d been told two years ago that they weren’t, but friends didn’t mourn each other the way [Bruce] seemed to have so thoroughly shut down every part of herself. The way he had for Shahar. 

[...]

Hunt turned in place as [Bruce] padded around the other end of the kitchen island, flinging open the enormous metal fridge to examine its meager contents. “No,” [Bruce] said, her voice flat and cold. “Danika and I weren’t like that.” 

page 696 of my ebook: 

[Bruce] swallowed, looking at the ground that was not earth, but the very base of Self, of the world. She whispered, “I’m scared.”

Danika grabbed her hand again. “That’s the point of it, [Bruce]. Of life. To live, to love, knowing that it might all vanish tomorrow. It makes everything that much more precious.” She took [Bruce’s] face in her hands and pressed their brows together. 

page 700 of my ebook (and i was torn on including this one, but it’s from Danika, so i think i should): 

Danika had whispered, “I love you,” before fading into nothing, her hand sliding from Bryce’s.

page 703 of my ebook (also torn on this, but it does sound a little queer, so): 

But it wasn’t okay. Not even close. What had happened, what [Bruce had] done and revealed, the Horn in her body, all those people dead, Lehabah dead, and seeing Danika, Danika, Danika—

Her breathless words turned into pants, and then shuddering sobs.

also, not for nothing, but the fact Danika dies without an actual male love interest to make Her Straightness Obvious kinda also implies she’s queer, but *sips tea*

furthermore, there’s the way sj///m writes Fury and Juniper: we see the two women together in one scene, in which Juniper is fetishized and goes to sleep with some random guy. for the rest of the book, they never interact on-page and thus we are never given the chance to see their dynamic, which would provide crucial context clues to what their relationship really is by the time this exchange happens between Fury and Bruce on page 494 of my ebook:

“And yet you can still talk to Juniper?” Bryce’s throat closed up. “I wasn’t worth the risk to you?”

Fury hissed, “Juniper and I have something that is none of your fucking business.” Bryce refrained from gaping. Juniper had never hinted, never suggested—“I could no sooner stop talking to her than I could rip out my own fucking heart, okay?”

“I get it, I get it,” Bryce said. She blew out a long breath. “Love trumps all.”

i’ve talked about this scene to death, but this is written in such a way that it can be read as “just” best friends or as two women in a romantic relationship, depending on the reader. the fact that Bruce “gapes” (which faerug also does to Mor, and which i talk about below) implies that being openly queer isn’t accepted in this world, that it’s not very likely you’ll see two women holding hands as they walk down the sidewalk or kiss at a romantic restaurant. it also implies that Bruce, no matter that she says about “love trumps all,” might not be as accepting as sj///m would like us to believe. maybe sj///m has never had a friend come out to her before, but if i came out to someone and they gaped at me (and i’ve come out to several people several times now, both about my sexuality and my gender, so i have some experience here), i don’t think i would be very happy with them/want to remain their friend. 

on the note of queer rep in sj///m’s work, Mor is another fantastic example of trying to be inclusive through a response to criticism without sj///m being aware of what, exactly, she’s writing. Mor comes out because faerug all but forces her to by not shutting up what a good guy Azriel is and that Mor should just give him a chance. that right there is fucked on so many levels, not just because Mor is a lesbian, but bc she’s supposedly faerug’s friend. no one should ever force their friends to date someone they don’t want to (i’ve had this happen to me! i had to literally snap at my friend to get her to back off bc i wasn’t going to go to the dance with this one guy who ignored my every rejection and bought us tickets to winter formal, just bc he’s a nice guy and i might like him if i gave him a chance), but i don’t think sj///m could figure out how else to write Mor’s coming out scene, largely bc she has no fucking clue how disgusting the scene we’re given is. the problem with Mor being a lesbian is threefold: 1) she’s a woman who was tortured by her father and left to die bc she was no longer a virgin; 2) Azriel spends centuries lusting after a woman who makes it clear time and again that she does not reciprocate his feelings and yet he cannot take the fucking hint, so much so that sj///m has to now dangle Elain in front of him like a piece of meat to get him to let go of Mor; and 3) sj///m was obviously setting up Mor and Azriel to be an endgame couple in ac0maf, as evidenced both in canon and in her pinterest board: 

even stans picked up on it, what with their vocal outrage over how Mor “led Azriel on” for centuries instead of just outing herself to a man she obviously does not feel safe around, and posts like these: 

and fanart like this: 

the tl;dr of this ramble is this: if you want to write inclusively and respectfully, you have to be 100% aware of everything you’re putting on the page. when people ask for advice on this kind of thing, my first comment is to always say they’re already on the right track bc they’re already thinking of this, rather than being unaware of problems bc a state of unawareness is where the problems begin to appear. Hafsah Faizal has talked about this before on her twitter (i wish i could find the tweet, but this is from eons ago), but if you write a character of color when you yourself are white, you have to be wholly conscious of how your white character talks to this character of color. if the character of color is constantly yelled at or ordered around or ignored by the white character, that’s a big problem. if you write a queer character when you yourself are straight, you have to be conscious of how your queer character comes out, is perceived by the reader, and is treated by the straight character. if the queer character comes out by comparing their bisexuality to forced prostitution, as is the case with Aedion and Lysandra in t0g, that’s a big problem. 

the moment you share your work for public consumption, it no longer matters what your intentions are (something sj///m has a lot of trouble understanding, hence why she over-explains everything in her interviews and on tours, not to mention why she force-feeds us her opinion of her characters in canon so we’re forced to share the exact same outlook on them) bc all that matters is what you’ve put down on the page. your words, at that point, have no choice but to speak for themselves, and if they do any of the above, your work is going to come under warranted critique, and unless you learn from that critique and do more than half-assed jobs to write more inclusively and respectfully, you’ll run into the exact same problems that sj///m has with CCity. 

#anti sjm #anti ccity #anti acotar #anti tog #long post #stans being stans #writing advice #writing tips #sorta

[sunshineseung]

Royalty // Lee Know

💌 Info: Stray Kids Lee Know x female!reader smut  💕 Includes: beginning fluff/plot, praise, pet names, possession, pussy worship, blowjob (receiving), fingering, unprotected sex ✏️ Word Count: ~4k

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Citizens lined the streets, cheering and chanting for their new queen. The royal carriage made its way down the road, the king and queen waving to the crowd with bright smiles.

You watched the parade from inside the small shop you worked at. Your mother, the owner, yelled at you from across the store, "get back to work!" You hazily continued to mop the wooden floor, but in your head, you’re dreaming of what could have been.

The new queen was a friend of your mother's, but after some heated arguments, they parted ways. The new queen's son, Minho, was your childhood best friend, but you had hardly spoken in recent years.

To see him waving to his people from inside the carriage as the new prince made your mind spin. The idea that you were once friends with the most coveted man in the city absolutely blew your mind. When you told people of this, they were quick to ask about the prince's childhood, with your only reply being "I don't remember much. We were both kids!"

He would seldom come into your family shop to buy necessities, but whenever he would visit, you would always catch him staring at you, eyes full of sorrow and regret. You'd wonder if he could be in the same boat as you: lonely, hoping for a friendship, even one long gone.

You didn't choose to go down different paths; it just happened. And now there you stood in your family store, sweeping away dust, wondering what could have been if you had just kept ties with the newly crowned Prince Minho.

"The nerve of her," your mother says under her breath while restocking shelves, "marrying the king after what she did. Absolutely shameless."

Minho's mother, also known as the Queen, slept with your father while your parents were married. Yes, taboo, but it's what ultimately broke friendships, both your mother's friendship with the Queen and your friendship with Minho. Deep resentment resided within your mother, but you just wanted to see Minho again.

You'd often lash out on your mother, her broken friendship being the reason for your coddling. She wouldn't let you leave as a child, fearing you would get snatched up by your father and taken away to the neighboring kingdom where he moved. After your falling out with Minho, you grew up with no friends until recently when you were hired at your mother's store.

The few people you interacted with there customers, some becoming your acquaintances after several of their visits, but none of them are truly your friends. You dreamed of leaving the town and moving to the forest, building your own house, and living a small, simple life, but you never had the courage to run away.

After the parade celebrating the new additions to the royal family, you got a letter. It was addressed specifically to you, marked with the bright red royal wax seal. Your heart dropped when you got the letter, and your mother was obviously fuming. You had to open it when she wasn't in the room.

"Dear Y/n L/n," the letter read, "It's with great honor that the royal family invites you to our celebration ball."

Your face is glowing, even through you believe every girl in the village received this letter. Upon further inquiring of your peers, you were the only one of them invited. Considering you weren't rich or well-known, you knew exactly why you were invited to the ball: Prince Minho.

The date was set and your dress was ready. Your mother allowed you to miss work, even considering what you were missing work for. You strolled up to the castle, and you realized what kind of party this was going to be.

There were girls from all across the land. They were all wearing expensive dresses, likely tailored for each girl, and they all had one thing on their mind: marrying the princes. What you had thought was an average party turned out to be a ball for Minho's suitors, which begs the question, why are you here?

Before you're able to turn around and leave, the guards close the massive front gate, actively trapping everyone inside the castle walls. The courtyard was full of large ball gowns and even larger hair making it hard to maneuver to the only thing on your mind: the food.

Most of the girls tonight are wearing corsets or bustiers, which gives you the perfect opportunity to eat as much as you want. Although your dress wasn't perfectly tailored or expensive, it made you stand out. While the party was full of women with hoop skirts and petticoats, you wore a slim, knee-high dress, which was a big no-no in the majority of the kingdom who valued modesty and conservativeness in women.

While at the table, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around to see a hooded figure with an indistinguishable face. They grab your wrist, but since your mouth had food in it, you couldn't scream. The hooded figure drags you around a wall to a secluded hallway leading to a guarded door.

"Trust me," says the voice. Considering how boring this party was, you blindly trust the voice and follow them to the door. They nod to the guards, and the guards nod back, opening the doors.

The doors reveal a small, enclosed garden with a koi pond and a white gazebo. They takes your hand and guide you to a marble bench next to the pond. While you're looking at the fish, the figures takes their hood off. Your heart stops beating when you see a pair of familiar brown eyes looking at you.

"Hey, Y/n. It's been awhile, hasn't it?" His voice is low, almost a whisper. Your focus darts from the pond to the prince. You're totally speechless, but he giggles at your flustered reaction. "I know this isn't what you were expecting tonight, but I honestly do miss you. I just wanted to see you again."

His smile is warm enough to melt your heart, and his kind eyes loll you into a sense of comfort.

"I wanted to see you again as well, Min- I mean, your highness." You laugh at yourself, hoping Minho didn't catch your slip up. He laughs as well, but he doesn't mind your slip up.

"I can still hear the music from the courtyard." Minho looks up into the sky, the lightest sounds from the band making their way into the secret garden. He stands up and holds his hand out, hoping for you to get the hint. "May I have this dance?"

You take his hand, and he whisks you away into the gazebo. Your hands gently find their way onto his shoulders and his neck, and he grips your waist ever so lightly. You smile at each other, the both of you fully aware of the absurdness of the situation.

"You know, I don't want to be prince." Minho's face dips in mood, the twinkle in his eyes fading away in an instant. "I just want to be a townsperson with y-"

"Minho," you cut him off, "You're going to be the best prince this town has ever seen. And whenever you don't feel like being the prince, I'll always be in the store awaiting your visit."

"Oh, so now you're okay with calling me Minho?" He chuckles, and your cheeks begin to burn red. "I should have come talked to you sooner."

"Just be glad we're here now."

You continue to gently dance with the boy, feet getting tangled together every so often. His pace is calming, and your bodies are perfectly in sync with the music from the band.

"Y/n, they're making me get married." His facial expression dips again. You can tell from his eyes darting downward that he's full of overwhelming thoughts. You cup his cheek in your hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. "I'm so scared."

"If you don't want to get married, you need to tell your parents that." Your advice is harsh, but you're truly trying your best. You two have stopped moving, totally ignoring the music.

"I have. They don't listen. They're making me marry a princess from another kingdom. I... I shouldn't be telling you this." His eyes go cold, the usual confident Minho returning for a moment. "We could get in trouble for being here."

"I'm willing to get in trouble if it means you have someone to talk to, Minho." Your eyes stare deeply into his. Silence washes over you two, both from the lack of conversation and the halting of the band. Without realizing it, your bodies are drawn closer together, faces inches apart.

"I know we just met again after years, but I want to spend my life with you, Y/n. I don't want to be here." His voice is low again, this time sending shivers down your spine from how physically close he is to you. "Let's run away."

"Are you crazy?" You retort, shaking your head. "There's nothing I want more than to run away, but your idea will get us both killed."

"I need you." His words are desperate, and your heart aches for him. To see your childhood friend in such pain breaks your heart.

However, his eyes dip down to your lips, and his expression goes from cold and emotional to dark and lustful. Seeing his face change so drastically makes your heart beat out of your chest. Suddenly, your nerves are on edge, and you feel his hot breath against your skin.

"May I... babe?" His soft words hit you off guard, and you look up to him with agape lips. You slowly nod your head, and your sign of consent is enough for him to bring you into a long kiss. It doesn't take much time for his tongue to slip into your mouth, your tongues exploring each other.

It wasn't until this moment that you realize how unbearably hot he is. His tight pants and buttoned shirt fit him perfectly, and the dark, velvety blue compliments his skin nicely. His face is that of a god, and his hair is soft to the touch. He's such a great sight to take in.

He pulls away, your spit creating a rope between each other's lips. You take a moment to catch your breath, and you make eye contact with Minho.

"Let's go inside, shall we?" He holds his hand out as he did to offer you a dance, but this time his expression wasn't nearly as sweet.

"As you wish, your highness." You curtsy to him jokingly, your tight dress riding up as you bent over to bow. You both chuckle at your remark, but Minho harshly bites his lip hearing you call him your highness in a lower tone than before. You take his hand, and once again, you're wicked away into unknown territory.

Minho takes you through a side door in the walled garden, and the door leads to a hallway within the castle. The halls are empty since all of the guards are at the party, so the two of you easily make your way to what you assume to be Minho's room. There's very few possessions in his room, and it hardly looks lived in aside from the disheveled bedsheets. You don't have much time to look around though, as Minho lightly pushes you onto the bed, looking down at you. Your legs spread without you thinking, and you suddenly feel shyness wash over you.

Minho, in an attempt to calm your obvious nerves, leans over and kisses you. The kiss is passionate, and you love the feeling of his hand roaming around your body. His hands circle your tits, but never go up to meet your nipples. His hand are caring, and his kiss is soft. Your worried melt away, and when your lips part from his, you're met with a smirking, horny prince positioned between your legs.

"You're going to be my princess tonight, baby. All mine." His gaze is dark, and you can't help but moan at his words. He gets down on his knees and pulls you towards his face at the edge of the bed. His grip on your thighs is tight, and he moves your dress up just enough to reveal your panties. "Dripping already, are we?" His index finger grazes your hole over your panties, forcing another moan out of you. The Minho eye-level with your cunt was completely different from the Minho you'd just kissed seconds earlier, but you liked it.

"I-I'm sorry, I couldn't help it." You didn't realize how wet you were until you felt your sopping panties press against you from Minho's finger. He blows against your clothed pussy, making you wince from the sudden stimulation. He laughs at your shocked reaction, and you feel your body heat up with embarrassment.

Minho hooks his finger around your panties and pull them down your legs, exposing your sensitive slit. "Fuck, your cunt is so beautiful." He eyes your heat, licking his lips at the sight of it. You rotate your hips, signaling him to touch you, but he just massages your thighs by making light circles with his thumbs. "You look delicious, princess."

His tongue makes a stripe up your pussy, making you jolt from the pleasure. Minho is taking his time with you, teasing you and sucking your skin. He's sure to lick up all of your juices, humming in response to your sweet taste. You're attempting to hold back moans, but as his tongue violates your cunt and your orgasm grows closer, high-pitched sounds escape your throat.

"I love your pussy so much." Minho is not shy to praising you, and you mewl after his every word. His fingers tease your entrance, threatening to enter you at any moment. You push yourself against his hand, and your pussy is clenching around nothing. You're so needy for him.

Per your silent but evident request, Minho gently pushes his middle finger inside your cunt, and he feels your walls tighten around his single digit. You move your hips in sync with his hand, and when he bends his finger upwards, he perfectly graces or g-spot, making you moan his name aloud.

"You feel so good, Minho." You look down at him, and his mouth is covered in your essence. The sight is enough to make you bite down on your lip almost hard enough to draw blood. He looks so hot under you, and the pleasure from his finger inside you and his tongue on your clit is enough to send you over the edge. "I'm so close."

Minho inserts a second finger into you, and his hand starts thrusting into you at a faster pace than before. His fingers scissor open and closed, and before you know it, you're cumming on his fingers, having one of the most intense orgasms you've ever had.

Through your orgasm, Minho continues to finger your and suck on your clit, and when you're done, he sucks every last drop of you off of his fingers. Your legs are shaking while he plants light kisses against your inner thighs.

"You did great, princess." Minho sits up and hovers over you, leaning down to bring you into a kiss. The taste of yourself against his lips makes you wet all over again, and you're needy for even more of the prince.

Minho motions for you to sit up, and you gladly follow his orders and flip your dress over your head, exposing your entire form to him. His jaw goes slack at the sight of your body, and he makes sure you know he loves every inch.

"My beautiful princess," he says as he traces his hands on your sides, outlining your figure. His cold hands send chills down your spine, but his praise makes it all okay. You know you can trust him.

"I think it's your turn, my prince." Hearing you call him prince makes his heart flutter, and that only makes his member harder. Your hands make their way to Minho's chest to unbutton his shirt all the way, revealing his abs. You run your finger down his chest and abs to the hem of his pants, and he hisses from your touch.

Minho smoothly pushes you back onto the bed, your head coming in contact with his pillows. He stands up off of the side of the bed and pulls down his tight pants, putting on a show for you. The bulge is his underwear is evident, and you see a wet mark from his precum. He pulls his boxers down, his erect member hitting against his abs. You close your legs together in an attempt to satisfy the slightest bit of need from your dripping pussy, but Minho is quick to position himself over you and pull your legs apart by your knees.

"Ready, babe?" He runs his tip through your folds, getting your wetness to coat the head of his cock. You nod eagerly, already biting your lip. His tip hooks on your clit, and you buck your hips up at him.

"Please fuck me, Minho. I need your cock so bad." The words flow out of your mouth as if you're used to being a sex toy for the prince. Minho grips your hips tightly as he pushes his member into you, stretching you out and filling you up completely. You let out the most pornographic moan, and a deep groan leaves his lips. He feels your tight cunt convulsing around him which only makes him want to drive into you more.

He throws your leg over his shoulder giving him the chance to pound into you even deeper. Sweat beats roll down his face from his forehead as he rolls his hips in sync with yours. His cock rams into your g-spot every time, causing slick sounds from your cunt to fill the room along with your shared moans.

"Princess," Minho coos to you, "you're so damn gorgeous." He cups your cheek and kisses you passionately, still rutting his cock into you. The intoxicating taste of Minho's spit mixed with the overwhelming feeling of his cock brings you up to your second orgasm. "You wanna cum on my cock, baby?"

Your nods are desperate, and the only sound able to leave your mouth are choked moans and pleads. Minho pounds into you even harder than before trying to coax your orgasm out of you. Your eyes roll back in your head as you tighten around him and coat his member in your cum. The string of expletives and moans that come out of your mouth give Minho all the boost he needs to thrust once more into you and cum, coating your insides with his semen.

"Fuck, Minho," you draw out, "I love your cum inside me." With one finger, Minho plays with your clit as he pulls out of you, releasing a loud grunt once his cock is fully out of you.

"You did so good, babygirl." Minho rests his body next to you and pulls you into him. "I don't want this to be the last time I see you."

"It won't be the last time you see me, don't worry." You rest your head on his chest and take in the scent of sweat and sex in the room. You catch your breath with his, chests rising and sinking in unison. It doesn't take long for a disturbing knock to scare both of you.

"Sir Minho, you've been requested in the courtyard by your mother." A guard stands outside, assuming Minho is alone in his room. "Your bride is awaiting your arrival."

"I'll be out in a minute!" Minho yells out to the guard. The footsteps outside of the room grow farther away, and Minho sits up at the edge of the bed and puts his head in his hands. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Minho. This isn't your fault." You sit next to him and pet his back in an attempt to calm him. "Let's get dressed, shall we?"

You take his hand and lead him to the pile of discarded clothes. You slip your dress back on, and Minho solemnly slides his old clothes back on before heading towards the door.

You smile at him as you two exit his room, the cool air from the damp hallway nipping at your legs. You cling onto Minho's arm, unaware of the layout of the castle.

"Go through this side door. I'll meet you in the courtyard." Minho gestures towards a small, wooden door.

"What about your bride?"

"Don't worry about her. I'll deal with it." Minho looks off to the end of the hall, unable to make eye contact with you. "I'll write you letters."

You give him a light kiss on the cheek as a goodbye and make your way to the door. Minho clenched his fists as he makes his way to the main gate.

You sneak your way through corridors into the courtyard again. The king and queen are on the top of the stairway in front of the main gate into the castle. They seem so happy for parents who forced their child into an arranged marriage.

"Now, we're proud to reveal, prince Lee Minho!" The gates swing open to reveal Minho, hair disheveled and pants on crooked. His shirt is wrinkled and partially buttoned. Despite his appearance, the girls in the crowd scream for him, and you sit back and watch.

Minho joins the partygoers, and you hardly see him through the groups of girls surrounding him. As the party goes on late into the night, you're about to leave, but Minho catches you heading towards the gate and yells to you.

"Goodbye, princess!" Minho yells over the adoring group of women around him, and they all gasp and turn around to you. You blush and run to the door before anyone can ask you questions about why the prince just called you his princess.

Days pass. You receive several letters from Minho, all with the royal wax seal. You hide them from your mother, partially because of the obvious red seal, and partially because of the contents of the letters.

Although some letters were romantic, other letters described in great detail what Minho wanted to do to your body when you two were alone again.

And when the sun sets and the moon rises, I hope to find your body under mind, shaking in my presence, heat wet with arousal. Your moans will sound like a symphony to me. My body is longing for yours, princess. To feel your lips against mine would be enough for my aching member and even more aching heart. Tuesday at 8. I'll be at your window, my love.

Sure enough, Tuesday at 8, he was waiting for you.

Who knew the prince would be so rebellious.

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#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fan fiction #skz fanfic #skz fan fiction #stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #kpop fan fiction #kpop fanfic #kpop #skz minho #stray kids minho #skz lee know #stray kids lee know #skz minho smut

[sincerelyella]

RAMifications Chapter 7 -  Kiss Me

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella)

Song Inspiration: Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Ella Brooks belongs to me

A/N: This entire idea came from @burnsoslow​ and her unBEARable series featuring her OTP Drake and Alyssa. This is Ella’s backstory and how she met the love of her life King Liam of Cordonia and became his queen.

Catch up here

Big thank you to my beta reader/snippet looker-overer (?)/my biggest cheerleader @burnsoslow - always catching little details that my mind overlooks.

Warnings: Some swearing; hinting of 🍐 or 🍋?

Words: 2002

“Lady Ella. Might I have a word?”

Ella wasn’t sure about the protocol for inviting the King inside her bedroom … but this was his palace after all. She nodded and stepped back, allowing him to walk past her as she shut the door.

“Hello again, Your Majesty,” Ella put one foot behind the other in an attempt to curtsy when Constantine waved his hand in the air.

“There’s no need for that, dear,” he studied Ella for another moment before speaking again. “How are you feeling about Liam?”

“Your Majesty?” What the hell does that mean?

Constantine blew out a breath. “Are you here for wealth? Fame? A title? Why are you here? Liam needs stability above all right now, Ella. You … joining in the middle of the social season, having not been in Cordonia long and knowing nothing of our traditions … that concerns me. We have suitors that have prepared their entire lives to be queen. This could be potentially dangerous should our enemies see this as a weakness!”

Ella grit her teeth and clenched her jaw in an effort to hide her irritation. What the fuck? “Sir, if I may speak freely?”

He nodded and gestured for her to go ahead.

“Why are you trying to intimidate me?” She spat out.

The King was taken aback at her tone and could only blink as a response. He hadn’t expected this very small woman to behave this way. Ella continued speaking, not even waiting for him to respond. “I may not have prepared my whole life to be a queen of an entire country, but I’ve spent a majority of my adult life studying. Studying diplomacy, trade, investment … how to recognize when someone is going into cardiac arrest and bringing them back to life,” she said the last few words louder than the rest, unable to hide her aggravation. “I have no doubt that these other ladies studied hard to be queen. But did they study how to be a wife? How to console someone when they lost everything they own? How to be compassionate towards people of a lower stature? The people need a Queen that understands them. Liam needs someone that can be a queen AND a wife. I’ve embraced your country, as well as your traditions.”

Constantine gave her a questioning look.

“I know I have because instead of just being with the man I want to be with … I have to parade around with four other women trying to win him.” Ella’s eyes met his, not backing down from his stare.

He was momentarily speechless. No one had ever spoken to him that way, ever. Except maybe his wife, but he hardly paid attention to her and her ramblings anyway. This young woman was fiery, and he wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. “I am not here to intimidate you, Ella,” he finally said slowly. “We will see how the rest of the season goes. I want what’s best for my country, that’s all.”

“What’s best for your country is a successor that has it all. If he’s happy AND can run a country with someone that loves him, then I don’t see the problem … sir.” She had forgotten that she was speaking to the king. He could have her gone and back to California in a hot second if he wanted to.

Constantine carefully took in her words and nodded. “Alright, Ella. We’ll see what happens. You have a good night.” He turned and let himself out of the room.

Ella walked over, locked the door and pressed her back up against it. My mouth might get me in some serious trouble here. She finally went to get ready for bed, slipped into the comforter and fell into a deep sleep.

**

Soft, constant knocks on the door woke up Ella the next morning.

“I’m coming … sheesh,” she mumbled, stumbling out of bed and tripped over her comforter that her foot was caught in. “Oh shit!” She shrieked as she hit the ground and the knocking stopped for a second.

“Ella?”

“Um, yes! Just a second!” Real smooth. Ella picked herself up off the ground, threw the stupid comforter on the bed and rushed to the door to open it.

There stood Liam, leaning on the door frame wearing a white polo shirt that outlined his chest and arm muscles perfectly. She roamed her eyes down further to take in the navy blue slacks and brown loafers. Ohmigod. It’s entirely too early to look that good. She inadvertently sucked her bottom lip into her mouth.

Liam cleared his throat and tried to hide a smile when he noticed she was staring. “Good morning, Lady Ella. I wanted to stop by and see you before I headed in to meetings today. May I come in?”

Ella blinked and quickly nodded. She moved aside so he could walk in the door and she closed it behind him. “Good morning, Your Highness. I’m sorry if I-” She was interrupted by Liam’s mouth on hers. Ella strained on the tips of her toes to meet him so she could kiss him back with fervor. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pushed her tongue into his mouth and he groaned in response.

He could hardly control himself. As soon as he saw her open the door wearing a tank top - she wasn’t wearing a bra, dear God - and the shortest Hello Kitty pajama shorts known to man, his cock jumped in his pants and his mouth watered. She looked like a goddess, with all her dark hair piled on top of her head, and her sleepy disposition; he was so tempted to just take her right then and there. It took all of the effort he could muster to pull away from those soft lips. “I’m sorry, I … really just came to say good morning,” he said in between breaths.

“Sure … you did,” Ella panted and laughed breathlessly.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to see you much today,” he said sadly. “My father and I have meetings and things to take care of before we leave.” Liam gulped. “Remember, we have to be, somewhat secretive, just until the social season ends,” he gave her a guilty look. He still kept his arms around her, not wanting to let go just yet. “I’m so sorry about this.”

“It’s alright, I knew what all this entailed. And I know you have things to do today. I have some interview that Bertrand set up so … I’ll be doing that,” she smiled up at him.

“I … can text you though, right?” That sounded so pathetic.

Ella giggled. “You’re so cute. Of course you can.”

Their intimate moment was interrupted by loud knocks at the door. “Ellaaaaaaa! Wake up sleepy heeeeead!”

“That must be Maxwell,” Ella whispered and they laughed. Liam leaned down to kiss her one last time before releasing her.

The door flew open. “Good morning sunshine!” Maxwell bounced into the room and stopped short when he saw Liam. “Hey buddy!” He grinned wide at the both of them.

“Good morning Maxwell,” Liam chuckled. “I need to get going, I’ll see you two later.” He grabbed Ella’s hand and squeezed it before walking out into the hallway.

“He came to … visit you huuuuh?” Max wiggled his eyebrows at Ella and she blushed.

“He just came to say good morning, that’s all.”

“Mmmhmmm. Is that what you crazy kids call it these days?”

She rolled her eyes but ignored his question entirely. “Okay, so I’m assuming you’re here to take me to get breakfast?”

“You are correct! Breakfast, the boutique, and then I’m also supposed to prep you for the interview. Bertrand will be here later to prep you some more!”

“Alright, let me get dressed really quick.”

**

45 minutes later, Max and Ella were eating in the dining hall. “So, what are they going to be asking me anyway?”

Max bit off a piece of bacon. “There’s only one person coming from Trend, her name is Ana de Luca. She’s pretty cool actually, the royal family and the nobles trust her with their interviews. Sometimes she brings Donnie Brine with CBC, but I don’t think he’s coming. She will most likely ask you about where you came from, what you did there, how you met the prince, how you feel about the prince, what would set you apart from the other suitors … things like that.” He shoved another piece of bacon in his mouth and washed it down with some coffee.

“Did you guys want me to be truthful or do you have some script for me to follow?”

Maxwell shook his head. “No, no, no, there’s no script. I’m sure Bertrand will want you to say things about House Beaumont … but, just be yourself. They want to know about Ella! So tell them,” he smiled reassuringly at her and continued eating.

A few hours later, after spending an hour in the boutique with Maxwell throwing all kinds of dresses over the fitting room door, she finally found a dress she loved. A black chiffon midi length dress with purple flowers on the bottom, it had an A-line silhouette and short sleeves. It was elegant enough for a daytime interview with the press, and was also Maxwell and Bertrand approved.

Ella sat in her bedroom with Maxwell, listening to him chatter away next to her about his new awesome playlist that he made. She was feeling her stomach twist with nerves, her hands clasped in her lap and she could feel her palms getting sweaty. She heard footsteps come right outside her door and knew it was Bertrand. Ella took a big breath in and let it out slowly. “You ready, Ella?” Max took her hand and squeezed it. “You’re going to do great!”

They both stood and walked out into the hallway meeting Bertrand and a petite woman with blond hair. “Hello,” Ella smiled.

“Hello, Lady Ella I presume?”

“Yes, Ana, allow me to introduce Lady Ella of House Beaumont. Lady Ella, this is Ana de Luca from Trend Magazine.”

Ella and Ana shook hands. “It’s a pleasure, Lady Ella. We are all very curious to know more about you.”

“Wonderful to meet you, Ana. Where are we having this interview?”

“In one of the ballrooms, I’ve had the crew set up already. Follow me.”

The four headed towards one of the open ballrooms, smaller than the other one Ella had seen a week ago. As they rounded the corner, Ella spotted two women coming towards them. One with jet black hair and the other with flaming red hair. The woman with the dark hair just looked at Ella curiously, while the other woman gave her the death stare. As Ana, Bertrand and Maxwell walked into the ballroom, Ella looked back at both women. The redhead walked up to her and snickered. “Well, well, well, look what we have here.”

#RAMifications #Liam x MC #Liam x Ella #Liam Rys #the royal romance #choices the royal romance #the royal romance fanfic #the royal romance au #choices trr #choices liam x mc #choices trr au #choices liam #pixelberry #play choices #trr fandom #trr fanfic #trr #trr au

[stae-yong]

a dream in a bottle [j.jh]

genre: fluff, romance, fantasy word count: 11.4k

Year 2059.

Everyone has lost their minds finding solace in a world full of chaos. Dreams in a bottle are now being used like a drug in order to fulfill their wildest fantasies. Have you ever dreamt so good, you never wanted to wake up?

“You’re the dream I go to, every time I close my eyes.”

a/n: this is my first jaehyun fic, and the first fic i’ve written :> please understand if i’ve made any errors. i wanted to write this since i started stanning nct and i hope you guys enjoy!! oh and listen to this, it inspired me to write this story. hopefully it could set the mood as well.

“Happy birthday to me,” y/n said dully as she blew her candle. The smoke from her two and three candles went to her eyes which made her squint. For the past week, all she ever did was cry herself to sleep thinking how miserable she would spend her birthday this week ever since her boyfriend left her for ‘his future’ which she snorted at as she remembered how his arms were wrapped around her waist as he kissed this new girl and who just enrolled in his arts class.

She then started to arrange her gifts which mostly consisted of plain old birthday cards which her so called friends just gave to her at the last minute since her existence was forgotten due to the busy days of work. As she went through her gifts, she noticed another postcard from her parents that are probably touring around Europe. She scrunched her nose in disappointment, “What a good way to start my 23rd year of living on this planet,” she muttered. Y/N stood up pushing around all the teared pieces of gift wrap as she tried to navigate herself around the living room. As she moved, she accidentally kicked a box tas was buried under piles of garbage.

A white box with pink hearts decorated around it. On the side of a box, a sticky note was attached with a letter with handwriting that was too familiar.

Dear y/n

Happy Birthday! I’m sorry we can’t spend it together this year, you know how hard life is. But I do hope you enjoy the following days with my gift. I gave this to you to spice up your birthday. It’s definitely one of a kind, I hope you could forget your dickhead of a boyfriend with this. Call me once you try it ;)

Love,

Mei.

“If this is a box of lingerie or condoms, Mei can rot in hell,” Y/N grumbled. This definitely should be worth it. She peeled the sticky note, as a remembrance of the gift as she carefully opened the box. Inside were three small bottles of iridescent liquid that seemed like it had been mixed by a 10 year old playing with glitters and water. A small card was placed above the bottles with a note saying “The best dreams happen when you are wide awake,” with several instructions to only drink one bottle every night for good results. Y/N contemplated if she should drink from it now considering that its nearly 10pm. She spent her whole day moping around her room munching on junk food while thinking about how lonely and boring her life was. Maybe this potion is worth the try, and maybe, like what Mei said, it could spice up her life.

She took the bottle in her hands shaking it a bit as she watched the small pieces of glitter swirl around as if it was luring her to drink it. At first she tasted like vanilla, smooth and milky then suddenly it turned to taste like strawberry mixed with different other fruits. Soon after, Y/N fell on her bed as she drifted off.

————

Y/N felt as if she was thrown into a whirlpool as her head continued to spin. Bright light hit her face making her squint as she tried to slowly adjust to what she was seeing. Suddenly, people started to bump her as they made their way around the city. Y/N tried to make sense of where she was, it was a city that looked like it existed way back in the 1900s with the way people dressed. Women and men of all ages walked around the street as they clung unto their loved ones. Women were dressed in puffed blouses and below the knee skirts as they topped it with a trench coat to warm them from the cold. Men, on the other hand, were wearing top hand sand white button up with suspenders that were too old-fashioned for her liking as they paired it with trousers. As Y/N continued to make sense of what was happening, she passed by a shop where she saw her reflection, she was wearing the same thing everyone was wearing.

Great, how on Earth am I supposed to figure out what to do in this dream.

As she walked around, she noticed a long queue that led to a movie theater. Everyone seemed excited to watch this new ‘musical’ that only happens once every year and that is during the 23rd of Christmas, ‘The Impossible Dream’ was its title. She noticed that every poster posted on the streets had the same title written in cursive with a time, date, and location set. As she adjusted her coat that was wrapped around her, she noticed a ticket on her right pocket.  “The Impossible Dream, 6pm,” she muttered. “I drink a stupid bottle of dream and now I have to watch a boring musical,” she added as she pouted remembering to message Mei that she won’t be drinking anymore of her gift. Her eyes wandered from the people around her to the buildings, she knew no one in this dream and the faces she see are not even close to familiar. The place itself looks like a 90s movie setting with all the broadway and lampposts hanging around.

“Excuse me, this is the end of the line, right?” Y/N turned to look around at a man around her age with caramel brown hair and smiling as his dimples poked out. She stared at him longer as she admired his features, okay, this is definitely a dream because no one else in the real world would look as good as this fine man standing behind her. “U-um, yeah,” she cleared her throat as she gave tight smile embarrassed as she was caught staring.

“Come on, you gonna pretend like you don’t know me now?” He said as he pouted. Y/N looked at him confused, never in her life did she encounter him, maybe this is a preset of the dream but she decided to play dumb instead. “Hmmm, I don’t think I remember,” she said as she tried to think of a name that matches his face.

“It’s Jaehyun,” he said as he poked her cheek with his index finger as he shook his head disappointingly. “Are you my boyfriend?” Y/N blurted out as she felt her cheeks heat up at her sudden question. Jaehyun felt flustered as his ears turned red. “Um, well, I don’t know,” he said nervously chuckling. Y/N nodded as she turned to the front once again, boyfriend or not it doesn’t matter but for sure the handsome guy standing behind her played an important role in her dream. She tried to remember if she knew any Jaehyun in the real world but no one came close. Heck, no one even looks like him. Was she really that desperate on moving on, she literally dreamed of having a boyfriend way better than her ex? Okay, maybe.

The line started moving as people made their way towards the entrance of the theater. “I didn’t know you were interested in watching musicals,” Jaehyun said as he stood beside her as they both made their way in.

“Well, maybe you don’t know a lot about me then,” she shrugged as she gave him a teasing smile. “We’ve known each other for four years and you forget my name?” He teased back as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder to move her from the people that were constantly passing by to get to their seats. Y/N felt her heartbeat speed up at the intimacy feeling his chest pressed against her shoulder as she muttered apologies to those passing by.

“Watch where you’re going,” he muttered under his breath as he looked at her. Y/N blushed as she looked up to him. The lighting in the room giving his visuals more justice as it surrounded her head making him look like he has a built in halo.

As she made her way to her seat, Jaehyun followed closely behind as they both sat together. The play started as the lights dim but Y/N couldn’t care less about what was happening in the play as she felt bothered by Jaehyun’s presence. How did he have this effect on her when he doesn’t even exist? It was also their first time meeting. She slowly shifted on her seat to face Jaehyun in a discreet way as she tried to steal a glance at him. Jaehyun noticed her shifting taking it as a sign of uncomfortableness, placing a hand gently on the area above her knee squeezing it lightly and giving her a look of concern.

Y/N froze in her seat as she looked back at Jaehyun who was staring at her worriedly, eyebrows furrowed. She looked away quickly as she cleared her throat, nudging Jaehyun’s hand away by accident as she shifted to face forward. Jaehyun chuckled as he continued to watch the musical smiling to himself. “What’s so funny?” Y/N said as she crossed her arms trying to concentrate on the show but finding it difficult with Jaehyun seated right beside her. “You should take a picture, it would last longer,” he whispered in her ear as she felt his warm breath brush against her cheeks making it heat up. Thankfully, the lights were dim and Jaehyun wouldn’t be able to see how red her cheeks were from the constant display of affection he was showing to her. She wasn’t staring, she was just trying to capture his face on her mind so that when she wakes up from this dream she could finally move on from her ex.

“I still haven’t forgiven you for what you’ve done,” Jaehyun whispers again, Y/N looks at him in confusion to see him leaning slightly to her side with eyes still focused on the show. “What have I done?” She said raising a brow. She has only been inside her dream for 20min, she barely got to do anything except stare at the piece of art seated right beside her.

Jaehyun looked at her in disbelief as he flicked her forehead earning a smack on the shoulder. “You left me in the rain, I told you to call me but you didn’t,” he said as he looked at her again. Y/N frowned, not really knowing what to say. “Sorry, I was busy,” At this point, making up stories would only be the solution to questions as it was only a dream that she may forget when she wakes up. Jaehyun continues to stare at her with an unreadable expression. He nods anyway and she gives him a small smile.

“Are you really watching this?” Y/N asks bored out of her mind as the main lead in the musical continues to cry as she longs for her love one who she only meets inside her dream.

“No, I’m just here because I like sitting beside you,” Jaehyun replies shooting her a smile, his dimples making an appearance as they always seem present when she looks at him. She scrunched her nose in disapproval, definitely too good to be true. Prince Charming likes her in her dream, her love life must definitely be fucked up for her to be dreaming about these things.

“We can get out of here if you’re bored,” Jaehyun shrugs as he took her hand gently. He jutted his chin toward the exit raising a brow, “Okay fine, but I’m not spending any money,” she muttered making Jaehyun laugh as he pulled her from her seat. She didn’t even know how she would able to live in this dream.

As they walked around the streets, Y/N tried to ask more about herself so that she wouldn’t have to lie all the time she entered this dream. Never in her life did she experience a dream so realistic, lately, she had troubles sleeping and if she ever got to dream, it would be long forgotten the moment she woke up. A warm hand wrapped around her cold one pulling her out of her thoughts, her gaze shifted from the street to Jaehyun who was grinning at her.

“Do you remember how we met?” She asked as he swayed their hands playfully while walking. “Of course, it was definitely my favorite day,” he chuckled as he recalled how they first met. It was the first day of university and Jaehyun was late. It definitely wasn’t a good first impression to his professors considering how he got into the university because of a basketball scholarship, he used to be a star player back in high school which led him to many offers from big schools that wanted him as the ‘face’ of their team. Although, Jaehyun chose the one closest to his home as he didn’t want to stray farther away from his family, at the same time, his friends attended the same university as him. He tried to discreetly make his way inside the classroom as his professor continued to scribble on the board. Sitting down on the farthest seat as possible, he tried to catch up on the lesson they were having

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” He heard a small voice say as he shifted his gaze. There she stood in front of him, wearing a yellow dress with her brown hair softly framing her small face accentuating her brown eyes that seem to hold the stars. Jaehyun gulped nervously as he shifted on his seat.

“No, you can sit here whenever you want,” he said a bit too excitedly as he continued to stare at her. The girl gave him a small smile as she sat slid on the seat beside him taking out her notebook and pen.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” she whispered extending her arm which Jaehyun stared at a bit for too long, “Not that it matte-“ before she could put down her hand Jaehyun grabbed her hand firmly with a smile. “Jaehyun,” he said smiling which made her flustered. “Care to share why you’re late?” He whispered as he tried to start a conversation without getting caught by the professor. He didn’t even understand what was being taught anymore as all his attention was occupied by the girl seated beside him. “The traffic was too bad, why are you late?” She shrugged as she leaned closer to him with a teasing smile. Jaehyun snorted as he slightly bumped his shoulder with hers. They were close already despite the small amount of time they knew each other, “You’re watching me?” He teased as he raised an amused brow at her. Her nose scrunched as she bopped his nose with her pen. “No, I saw you make your way through the door earlier and decided to seat beside you,” she chirped making Jaehyun’s heart flutter. “If I knew better, I would say you stalk me,” he replied trying to brush off the tremble in his voice caused by the amount of flips his heart was making. “Just interested,” she beamed and diverted her attention back to the board. Jaehyun took a glance at her shaking his head at their exchange, silently taking note that he should definitely get her number after this class.

Y/N looked at Jaehyun with an unamused expression as he shrugged, “It’s true though! You tried to hit on me on the first day,” he said earning a punch on the shoulder. “I don’t think that’s how it went though!” She retorted blushing as she didn’t even know if Jaehyun made everything up. It was her first time meeting him, yet in this dream it seems that she’s been in it for years already. She did, however, like how straight forward she was based on Jaehyun’s story, maybe she did like herself better in this dream.

“You asked for my number, so basically, you hit on me,” she stucked her tongue out as she harshly tugged Jaehyun in what she feels like the direction of her house is. Jaehyun pulled her back as they stopped under a lamp post with the light illuminating his face in all the right angles. He leaned close until they were eye-contact level as Y/N tried to keep a blank expression even if her heart was basically going to burst from how close Jaehyun’s face was from hers as she tried to remember all the small details of his face. “You said you were interested first, so I guess I win this argument,” he said smiling at her. Y/N brushed it off as he pushed his face away with her index finger. Jaehyun then wrapped his arms around her waist as he pulled her closer making her grab his forearms for support at the sudden action. “What are you doing?” She said nervously as he started to sway from side to side as he looked at her making her blush at the sudden attention he was giving her. There was no way he couldn’t see how red she was right now. “Dancing, we used to do this all the time,” he said as he continued to sway to some tune he was humming. “I don’t know how to dance,” she muttered as she looked down trying her hardest not to step on his feet. “It’s fine, I can lead,” he said confidently as he continued to stare down at her making her stare at his chest as she couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Hey Y/N,” he mentions when he noticed how quiet she has gone. “Hmmm?” She replies looking up to him as she stared at the area between his brows, his eyes too much for her to take, afraid that if she looks at him she might as well just kiss him there. “I really like dancing here with you but do you mind?” He says as he looked down. Y/N followed his gaze and saw her shoe lace untied itself probably because she kept stepping on them as they danced.

“Oh, let me-“ as she tried to bend down to tie it, Jaehyun pulled her up lightly by the arm as he kneeled before her making her flustered she looked around for people as he basically looked like he was proposing to her. “I can’t have you fall for anyone else,” he grinned as he tried to stifle a laugh. Y/N huffed as she nudged him strong enough for him to fall backwards catching himself with his arms as he tried to stand up.

She walked quickly as she tried to go to what seemed like her house, with Jaehyun following closely behind her as he jogged trying to keep up with her speed. “You’re welcome,” he winked making her flustered once again as she crossed her arms. “I’m home now, aren’t you going?” She said though she really didn’t want him to go yet. She didn’t even know if that was her house but it seemed like it, somehow it just felt right to be there at that moment. Jaehyun chuckled as he took a step back putting his hands in his pockets.

“I hope you had fun today,” he smiled as he ruffled her hair. Y/N nodded as she entered her ‘house’. “Stay safe, Jaehyun,” she said softly as she took one last look at him. Before she could close the door, she felt Jaehyun stop it.

“Wait, before you go,” he held the door with one hand and the other finding the back of her head as his lips lightly touched her forehead. Y/N felt her heartbeat speed up as she closed her eyes at the feeling of his soft lips on her forehead.

“Meet me in your dreams,” he said as he smiled at her before finally closing the door.

——

Y/N jolted awake as she heaved heavy breaths. She felt as if she ran a marathon with how fast her heart was beating. She was back in her bedroom as she looked around. Nothing seemed to change, except the small box that was on top of her bedside table with now only two bottles of dreams. She sighed as she checked the time, she was out for about twelve hours already, although, in her dream only a small amount of time has passed. As she made her way out her apartment, she received a call from Mei.

“So how was it?” Mei asked enthusiastically as y/n could feel her interest on the other end of the line. Sighing she continued to walk down the streets in boredom, wasting time on finding something that would catch her eye.

“I didn’t know a dream could be realistic,” she muttered back. “And there’s this guy,” she added as she thought of this is really a great time to mention a character from her dream, especially to Mei, she woulld probably think she’s gone crazy. “What guy? Are you seeing someone?” The other responded, desperate to know if her friend has finally moved on. “What? No, I mean yes,” Y/N defended.

“It’s not about my ex, actually, there was someone in my dream.” She said. “I don’t really know if I met him before, but his features are very new to me. And you know what they say, that our minds can’t make up images, and everyone in our dream is someone we have met or saw before,” she added. There was no way she saw Jaehyun, if she did then she would probably remember him judging by how good looking he was. “Really? Well, you probably saw him in streets before,” Mei reasoned as y/n could only nod in response even if Mei couldn’t see her. “Anyway, you should really make that worth it. I heard the manufacturer of the shop closed down,” she mentioned as you made your way into a small coffee shop you saw across the street which seemed quite popular judging by the amount of female customers in there.

“Well, I only have two bottles left. I’ll call you when I finish it. Thanks for the gift by the way,” y/n replied as she ended the call

The cafe she entered was small, yet had a homely feeling to it. There was an amount of middle schoolers who look like they just finished school lining up as they perked their heads towards the counter. Y/N squinted as she saw the cute cashier and barista taking their orders. The cashier with white hair that for some reason seemed to match his big intimidating eyes and sharp nose and jawline. He wasn’t as big as the barista, but his body complimented his features as he smiled towards the group of girls who tried to catch his attention. The barista, on the other hand, was tall and had broad shoulders. His hair was dyed black, but he seemed really friendly despite his strong aura.

When it was her turn to order, she now understood why a lot of women in this city practically visited this shop everyday. From afar, she noticed how good-looking the staff were in the cafe, but now looking at them up close made her throat dry.

“I would like one iced latte,” she said shyly as the cashier smiled at her. She squinted her eyes at his name tag, Taeyong. Cute. “Are you new here?” Taeyong said as he pressed numbers on his screen for her order.

“Umm, I live around here. But it’s my first time in this cafe,” she mentioned as she looked around trying to distract herself from meeting his eyes.

“Cool, may I have your name?” He chirped as he smiled again towards her raising his brow. Y/N furrowed her brows as she stared back at him, “A-are you trying to ask me out?” She stuttered bewildered at the sudden question. Taeyong laughed as the barista behind him accidentally knocked a cup off as he turned around to look at her stifling a laugh as well. “What? Um, you’re cute but I need it for the cup,” he gestured raising a cup in his hand making y/n embarrassed as she heard the girls from behind whisper about how assuming she was.

“Oh, sorry,” she said lowly as she muttered her name quickly and paying as she moved to get her order.

——

Y/N sat on her bed holding the box of two bottles. Taking one, she shook it again as she saw the swirl of iridescent liquid calling her in. The whole time she mentally prepared herself for what was to come. To say she was excited to meet Jaehyun again was an understatement, she wanted to take the bottle again as soon as she stepped home but she remembered that there was only two left.

She took one bottle out deeply breathing in and out as she downed it all feeling the familiar taste touch her lips as she entered her dream once again.

When she woke up again she was in a garden, sitting up right as she felt something on her lap shift. Looking around, she noticed she was still in the same setting as before only, it was day and everything seemed bright as people continued to walk around minding their own business.

“You look beautiful from this angle down here, but I would appreciate it if you would look at me too,” a voice says as she looked down only to see Jaehyun lying down on her lap staring up at her with a small smile on his face. She blushed once again when she saw him, last night she thought he was breathtaking under the lamp post but under the sun he looked so much better with freckles scattered on his cheeks his eyes a lighter shade of brown and his dimples, ever so present, poking out.

“You were saying?” She says as Jaehyun stood up from her lap. “I’m starting to think you don’t pay attention to anything I say,” he complained as he dusted himself. Y/N stared right at him, wondering what they would do next.

“I need you to accompany me. I have this project going on and Johnny’s too busy to go with me,” he said as he took her hand. She wasn’t sure who Johnny was but she assumed he was his friend. Though she didn’t mind what his character would mean in her dream as he hasn’t showed up yet. She noted to herself that later on she would figure out who Johnny was and probably make the most of the second bottle she took. As they neared a building that look somewhat like a huge library, Jaehyun pulled her in a hurry as they made their way through old books.

Y/N groaned as she watched Jaehyun scan through the book once again trying to find the right thing. It was her dream, why is nothing interesting happening. “Jaehyun, what am I to you?” She asked as Jaehyun’s attention quickly went to her. His ears reddened as he rubbed the back of his neck shyly, “You said you weren’t my boyfriend. And you kissed me on my forehead, so who are you?” She asked as she hesitated mentioning that kiss as she felt herself become shy as she remembered how she woke up right after. Jaehyun nervously chuckled, to be honest, he himself did not know what their stand was. All he knew was that he wanted to protect her, and that he wanted to be with her always. It was all he ever knew since he met her, it was as if it was a role given to him by the gods to stand by her side no matter what.

“I’m not sure y/n, what do you want us to be?” He asks unsurely afraid of the rejection he might receive. Silently praying she won’t say ‘friends’. Y/N was taken aback as the question was thrown back at her. She didn’t know what they were supposed to be, nor did she know Jaehyun as much as he claims to know her.

Seeing the hesitation on her face, Jaehyun felt disappointed but decided to brush off the thought. “It’s okay, you don’t have to think about it.” He said as he gave her a pained smile which wasn’t unnoticed by y/n. “I can wait,” he said under his breath as he looked at her. Y/N looked at him in surprise, it was her dream. She could say whatever she wants, “I like you,” she blurted out as she waited for his reaction. Jaehyun’s ears, if possible, became more red as he heard her confession. He tried to stop the smile forming on his lips as he put back the book on the shelf.

“Well, that’s great because,” he said taking a step near her as he held both of her hands in his. “I am absolutely smitten by you,” he added ash he wrapped his arms around her shoulders pulling her into a hug. Y/N smiled as her cheeks hurt. She hugged him back, now this is definitely one of her best dreams ever. “Does that mean we can go on dates now?” She said as she pulled back. If she could live in a dream, then she would want to live in this dream forever.

Jaehyun grinned, “Lucky for you I booked us a date,” he said as he winked.

“Okay, maybe I don’t like you anymore,” y/n said as she made her way out of the library with Jaehyun laughing a bit too loud behind her.

————

As they made their way out of the library, Y/N found her hand once again wrapped around Jaehyun as he intertwined their fingers together. She smiled at Jaehyun’s affection. It was as if his hand automatically finds hers wherever they go.

As you both walked hand in hand, Jaehyun led you to a planetarium. “Have you ever been?” Jaehyun asks as he navigates his way through the streets. Constantly pulling you aside as you try to avoid people walking the opposite direction.

“I’ve never been to one actually,” you say wondering if you’ve ever been to one with your ex. To think of it, you really didn’t have enough time in the real world to explore the city during your past relationship. You were either curled up in your apartment or burrying your head in books. The dates you had previously were just last minute decisions as if he was just forced to take you out because you were together. But this time, with Jaehyun, it seems as if you actually got what you deserve. It may seem cheesy, but your heart fluttered when Jaehyun mentioned that he actually planned this date. It could be a preset in the dream, but that didn’t matter to y/n, all that mattered was that someone took the time to care for her and remind her how special she is. Even if that someone doesn’t really exist, she chose to ignore the thought. If there was a person who would break your heart again, you would be honored to have your heart broken by Jaehyun. And even with a broken heart, you would choose to love Jaehyun with all those little pieces.

“You should see the stars, they shine as bright as you,” Jaehyun added as they made their way through the planetarium. There wasn’t much people walking through, and everyone was speaking in hushed voices. As they walked through the planetarium, they entered a dark room with only the ceiling illuminated by galaxies and small celestial beings. Jaehyun looked at you with a small smile playing on his lips. He was fascinated by the way your eyes seem to shine even in the dark, like your eyes held the most beautiful stars as you admired the projected ceiling of light. Y/N then looked at Jaehyun who was still staring at her in awe. “You should take a picture, it would last longer,” she beamed as he scoffed lightly.

“So you steal lines now?” he said with an amused brow lightly applauding her sarcastically as you shoved him on his shoulder. “What else do I steal?” she said as they made their way around the room. “Probably my heart,” Jaehyun shrugged as he felt his ears turn red. He quickly looked up inspecting the ceiling as Y/N shot him a look of disapproval.

“If I wish on that star,” Y/N said pointing to a projected shooting star, “will my wish count?” you asked as you stared at Jaehyun whose eyes are still trained towards the ceiling as he looked at the constellations.

Jaehyun laughed as he put his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Maybe,” he said as he looked up. Y/N closed her eyes as she clasped her hands together. She knew it was pathetic, to be making a wish in this dream. But her pleas and prayers didn’t seem enough to calm her desperate heart.

I wish I could live in this dream a little longer.

They both sat down in the middle as they continued to enjoy each other’s presence. No one was around anymore as it seemed like the whole planetarium closed. Y/N already lost track of time, she didn’t know what has already happened to her in the real world, but for sure she was sleeping for the whole day already. Jaehyun, on the other hand, was still deep in thought as he slowly laid down on the floor with an arm tucked behind his head as a pillow, the other resting on his stomach.

“Do you ever feel like somewhere out there, there’s another version of us doing the exact same thing we are doing now?” he mentions as he continues to stare into space. Y/N glances at him and copies his position as she adjusted herself to be laying down beside him. Not really knowing what to say, Jaehyun took it as a sign to continue.

“I feel like I’ve been living in a cycle. It sucks really cause everyone I know either forget me, or they space out. Or it was as if I never really know them to begin with,” he says, frustration clear in his voice. His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to stare into the black space displayed on the ceiling. “You know, the other day, Johnny acted as if he didn’t really know me. I don’t even know if he was playing with me but it was like it was his first time seeing me,” he added as he turned to meet your eyes that were just focused on him. “It’s like how we saw each other back in the theater, you both acted the same way,” he pushed himself up as he supported himself with his arms.

“It’s the same every fucking time. I meet someone knew, we get to know each other, then all of a sudden they forget who I am,”

“I feel like I’m a character in someone’s dream,” Y/N gulped nervously as she slowly sat up. Jaehyun still confused as he blankly stared at his lap. Y/N didn’t know what to say, she didn’t know how to tell him that he was right and he was just a figment of her imagination and that all of this was from a stupid bottle her friend gave her for her birthday. You were scared to say something, afraid that revealing the truth would mean that you would wake up and that meant that you only had one bottle left to be with Jaehyun. Y/N grabbed his hand and gave it a light squeeze with a smile, hopefully, assuring him that everything will be alright.

“Promise me one thing,” he says as he faced her seriously. You nodded in response as you waited. “Don’t forget me,” he says carefully watching her reaction. Y/N chuckled as she shook her head, “That’s easy to do, Jae,” she laughed as she shaked their intertwined hands playfully. “Promise me you’ll also stay,” he added seriously. Y/N froze when she heard his words. To forget him was hard, she could remember him everyday when she woke up. But to stay was another thing, how could she stay when she only had one bottle left? How could she stay when he was just a character in her dream? How could she stay with someone who only exists in her memory?

She looked back at him, and the moment she did, she quickly regretted her actions. He was looking at her with so much hope in his eyes. Noticing her silence, the hope in his eyes turned into grim acceptance as he felt her hesitation. Y/N squeezed his hand making him look back at her. She had no idea what came in her, but she decided if its for Jaehyun, she would try.

“I promise,” she said firmly, eyes burning with determination. After all, a broken promise is better than none at all.

——

Y/N felt dizzy as she tried to get up from her bed as she leaned towards the bed stand to get her phone. Her mouth fell dry, remembering the promise she made Jaehyun as she dialed Mei’s number. “Help, I need to do something,” she said as soon as the line was answered.

“What is it this time? Did you finish the bottles already?” Mei asked groaning in response as you called too early for her liking. “No, tell me where you bought the bottles,” she said as she tried to balance her phone between her shoulder and ear as she wore pants. “I need to find who made those bottles,” she added disappointed at the lack of response from the latter. “I’ll send them to you, but I don’t think they’re open,” Mei replied, y/n sighed. She didn’t know why she made that promise, or how she would fulfill it. Back in her dream, everything seemed possible but now, all that was left was empty words that she regrets saying. She didn’t even know why she had a need to keep the promise to Jaehyun, he didn’t even exist to her disappointment.

After she received Mei’s message, she quickly headed out to go to the said shop. Her heart pounded nervously as she drove to the address. It was in a secluded part of town, there was no residential area near it and it seemed like a place that no one frequented to judging by the lack of public transportation that went to the area. She had to take a cab, and the look the driver gave her meant that it wasn’t a place to be in in the first place. As she stared at the shop in front of her, she suddenly felt so alone as the cab quickly left blowing a gust of wind. The small bells tingled when she walked in. The store was small and cramped with only a small counter near the end as she tried her best not to step on any of the antique items that were for display. Ringing the small bell on the table, she tried to inspect the place a bit more.

Her eyes squinted as she spotted a familiar poster hanging on the wall between two large dream catchers. ‘The Impossible Dream’ it read as small details were printed around. Her eyes widened in shock. It was the same poster from her dream, could it be that the musical actually existed? Would that mean Jaehyun existed? Before she tried to move further to get a closer look a stern voice spoke from behind the counter.

“What brings you here? We are closed,” her head whipped to the direction of the voice. There stood an old woman who was smaller than her with her white hair tied neatly up in a bun, eyes narrowing towards Y/N.

“That poster, where did you get it?” You said pointing in the direction of it as you tried your best not to falter in front of her gaze that seemed too strong for you to handle.

“That poster was made years ago by my ancestors, does it look familiar to you?” The old lady replied. Y/N nodded in response still debating whether the possibility of Jaehyun existing was real or not. “You took the bottles, didn’t you?” The old lady pressed on as Y/N muttered a small yes. “That was a mistake, you should have never taken it in the first place. I suggest you go home and continue on with your life, dark magic is not to be played with,” she said as she made her way towards the door behind the counter.

“No! Wait, I have some questions,” Y/N protested as she tried to block the old lady from disappearing.

“Forget about it now, what you experienced is not real,” the old lady said as she tried to make her way around you. Y/N continued to block her way which made the old lady sigh. You really didn’t want to give her a hard time considering her age, but you didn’t want to leave without unanswered questions.

“You say the dream I had wasn’t real, but why does that poster exist?” Y/N said as she moved to grab the poster that was hanging on the wall. It was designed exactly like what she saw on her dream. “What is this? What is in those bottles?” She gestured desperately waiting for an answer. The old lady sighed, grabbing a small stool and sitting down. “Those are bottles of dreams, my grandmother and my mother used to make it when I was still a child, telling me that one day it would change the world and that people would go crazy to get a sip of what was in it,”

“These bottles allow people to live in their deepest desires, everything you see in your dream is just a figment of your imagination. The potion lets you have what you want,” she added as she gestured towards the poster. “Luckily for you, what you desire isn’t that bad. But for others, it became too much. I stopped selling the bottles because things could get out of hand,” she said sadly. Y/N felt like the weight of her promise was crashing down on her. There was too much information for her to handle, the fact that Jaehyun did not exist made her sick. “I know you’re sad, everyone does once they find out they can’t have what they desire. But if it makes you feel any better, I can tell you one secret,” the old lady says hesitating as she finds the hope in your eyes glint at her words. “This poster, I am guessing you have seen it before in one of your dreams?” She questions as she holds it up in the light. Y/N nodded, “I want to know if the person I see in my dreams is true, or perhaps, I am holding on to this impossibility that he is true,” she mutters as she remembers Jaehyun. She only had one bottle left, meaning it would be the last time she would see him.

“This poster appeared here two days ago, I don’t know how it got here but I assume it is something from a dream. Just like everything in this shop,” the old lady said gesturing towards the other antique items. Everything was so random, as if it was just dumped with whatever things people could find.

“I am not sure if your dreams are real, and if the people do exist. But judging from how everything keeps appearing in random, they might be somewhere out there,” she added. Y/N breathed deeply, there was no assurance of Jaehyun existing in this world, but the existence of the poster means that he would probably appear in this shop if he were to be created. The poster alone ignited her desire to find him. If he did exist, where was he?

“Thank you, if you see anyone appear here around my age. Tall, white, handsome, basically looks like a prince, please let me know,” Y/N says as she leaves her phone number. The old lady chuckled, “Isn’t that too childish for a woman like you?” She says amused at your desperation to find this boy. “He’s a dream come true, can’t let anyone get to him,” y/n replies as she made her way out.

When Y/N returned home, she felt exhausted. She didn’t want to take her last bottle just yet. It could be her last chance of seeing Jaehyun, if what the old lady said was false. But seeing how the poster showed up, as well as other things that were in the shop, it gave her hope that Jaehyun existed somewhere out there. Another thing that bothered her was the fact that if he was out there, where was he? She didn’t even know where to start finding him. She hoped that he lived in the same country for her, she didn’t have enough money to find him if he were abroad. Nor did she think she was willing to find a man who basically existed based on her imagination. Even if he did live under the same skies, it was still to difficult task to do.

What’s the most you would be willing to do for the person you love?

Y/N took the last bottle of dreams, determined to keep her promise to Jaehyun. Adjusting once again to the bright light, when she woke up, she was seated on a chair in what seems like her room in her dream. She was wearing a white maxi dress that hugged her figure in all the right places, long enough to pool on the floor while she sat down. Her hair flowed down her back with curls toward the ends as her face was dolled with light make up.

Taking a good look of herself, she was satisfied with how she looked. If this was the last thing Jaehyun would see, then she was happy that he would see her at her best. When the doorbell rang, she made her way towards the door with a heavy heart as she reminded herself that this was her last bottle. When she opened the door, she smiled as she took in the sight of Jaehyun infront of her. His hair was gelled back with a fringe curled infront of his forehead. He was wearing a plain black suit and tie with a white dress shirt under. He held up a bouquet of fresh daisies as his cheeks were lightly pink from the cold (he tried to convince himself). “For you,” he shyly said, dimples making an appearance once again, he handed over the daisies as he stared down on his feet shuffling as he felt flustered by your presence.

Y/N pouted, he was the man of her dreams. Literally. She hoped she only drank half of the bottle now, because she definitely wanted to see Jaehyun dressed up like this for the rest of her life.

“What’s the matter?” Jaehyun said worried as he saw your lack of response. Taking your hand lightly, he rubbed small circles in the back of your hand as his other took your chin beneath his thumb and point finger. “Stop frowning, you look beautiful in that dress,” he complimented.

“You’re too good looking, I don’t think I can go with you anymore,” you reply trying to play off the somber mood as you give him a reassuring smile. Jaehyun chuckled, “You should see yourself,”

Both entered the venue, to say that it was extravagant was an understatement. It looked like a greek god threw a party, out of a sudden, Y/N felt out of place with all the people passing by looking like they were raised with a golden spoon. Feeling Jaehyun’s arm snake around her waist pulling her closer towards him, she glance at him sending him a small smile as she tries to gain confidence. “It’s fine, we can leave once you feel uncomfortable,” he says as he guides her towards the entrance. “Who has the money to throw this party? It looks ethereal,” Y/N loudly whispers shooting a fake smile to the guards who welcome both of you. “Moon Taeil, he’s a friend of mine,” Jaehyun replies as he inspects the place. Y/N looks around as she admires the gold chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and tall white pillars around the place with gold vines wrapped around it.

“By the way, you look ethereal,” Jaehyun whispers close to her ear, his lips brushing against her earlobe making her flush. He leads her to their table and leaves to get the drinks which makes y/n snap back to her plan. Honestly, she really did not have a plan. She didn’t know how she should spend her last bottle, but for sure she had to act quickly. She thought of hugging Jaehyun or at least holding his hand tight enough for her to bring him to reality, but everything seems pathetic at this point. Looking around, she decided to go to the restroom to at least settle with a final plan. As she made her way through the hallways, she looks at the pictures hanging on the wall. It all looked like some portrait of a royal family, but one picture has caught her eye. Narrowing her gaze, she inspects a picture of a woman probably around her 20s with eyes set forward as if it was staring at her back.

“Where did I see this before?” Y/N mutters under her breath as she stared longer at the woman. Shit, it was the same woman from the shop, only a younger version. Her eyes widened, as she tried to find more pictures of the woman. Y/N slowly tried to reach for the frame, carefully touching it as she tried to find a trace of anything that could help her to bring Jaehyun to reality. Biting on her lip, she continues down the hall in desperation to find hints. As she neared the end, she felt a gust of wind blow towards her.

Turning around, she finds herself in the middle of the street. It was the same street where she met Jaehyun, the first time she appeared in her dream. She looks around and notices the same poster hanging around. Breathing deeply she turns around once again, “What the fuck is going on?” She asks herself.

“Excuse me, where am I?” She asked as she grabbed an arm of a woman who was walking down the street. The girl ignored her like a ghost as she shook her arm of and continued to walk as if nothing happened. Y/N tried asking different people but they all pretended as if they couldn’t hear her. She continued to walk down the streets, noticing a familiar building. The shop she visited, the one with the old lady.  Y/N tried opening the door, continuously pounding on it with her fists. “Hello! I need some help, I’m the girl from awhile ago!,” she pleaded as she continued to pound the door with her fists. “Please help me,” she cried out as she shook the door handle. After numerous attempts of trying to open the door, she decided to go back.

“Jaehyun, where are you,” she said feeling her eyes water as she ran around trying to find him in the crowd. Closing her eyes, she tried to control her dream. “I am in the party, I am with Jaehyun,” she chanted, eyes tightly shut as she clenched her fists. Her cheeks wet with streaks of tears that have escaped her eye.

Opening her eyes again, she finds herself in a bathroom. Heaving deep breaths, she looks around her cautiously, afraid that she would lose herself in her dream. After wiping her tears, she made her way towards the party. She finds Jaehyun in the corner talking to a woman around her age her hair long and straight. She looked smaller next to his bigger frame and her eyes were sparkling, y/n was not sure if it was from the light or was it just really her. The woman laughed lightly at what Jaehyun says as she gives him a charming smile. She matched the princess in fairy tales looking as regal as Jaehyun could be. This made y/n sad, it was her dream all along, but if she couldn’t bring Jaehyun to reality then he might as well just live his happily ever after with this woman.

But she might be able to bring him with her, and she wasn’t going to back down without a fight. Y/N clenched her fists, I was gone for a while and this idiot didn’t even try to find me, feeling the green monster in her heart rise she huffed out loud stomping over to the both of them.

“What happened to drinks?” She said making Jaehyun jolt at her sudden presence. “I was just about to get it,” Jaehyun answers as he glances at Y/N. “This is Naeun, a friend of mine, and this is Y/N,” he says gesturing to the both of you. Naeun gives her a small smile raising a hand, while Y/N continued to stare at her blankly.

“His girlfriend,” you scoff as you glared at Jaehyun. “I didn’t know it could take you fifteen minutes to get a drink,” she mocked as Jaehyun looked at her with an amused smile. “I just got here, what are you talking about?” He replied. Y/N raised her brow, “I went to the bathroom,” she argued back. Naeun looked at the two, excusing herself as she didn’t want to get caught up between them. “I just sat you down though,” Jaehyun pouted at her response not liking that she was upset with him. Y/N was confused, didn’t she just get lost in her dream? Or did time just stop and everything continued to flow for her? She decided to drop the topic, sitting down on the stool next to him.

“Doesn’t matter, who is she?” She questioned jutting her chin towards Naeun’s direction as she took a sip from the Andy Player Jaehyun ordered from her directing her attention towards the front avoiding his teasing eyes. “Just a friend from high school,” he said taking a seat as well as he took a sip of his drink, his smiling growing wider at her reaction. Y/N rolled her eyes as she played with the liquid in her glass, “Sure, you seem happy to be reunited,” she mocked, jealousy coating her words. “Hmmm, are you jealous?” Jaehyun asked as he leaned one arm on the counter looking at her with a teasing smile she would like to wipe off his face because not only did he irritatingly looked too good to be true, the veins in his arms were also distracting. Fuck Jaehyun and his rolled up sleeves, Y/N found it unfair, he looked like God’s favorite.

“No, why would I be jealous?” She said defensively taking another sip of her drink. “I don’t care who you mingle with,” she dragged on with a tone as she stuck her tongue out. Jaehyun laughed, “Really?  Cause I don’t remember asking me to be your boyfriend,” he added. Y/N chocked on her spit at his statement as she glared at him, “Forget I said that,” though she secretly liked how he seemed to be fine with that title. “To be honest, I really don’t want to,” he retorted. Y/N flushed as she felt herself shrink on her seat.

“I want to dance with my girlfriend, may I?” Jaehyun stated as he offered her a hand, smiling as he raised his brows making Y/N scoff. She really wanted him to stop, it wasn’t good for her heart that probably did a thousand of flips at every word he says.

She took his hand as they made their way towards the dance floor, Jaehyun’s arms wrapped around her waist as he pulled her closer, his other arm guarding each of her hand to wrap around his neck as they found themselves back to her waist. Y/N felt bittersweet, remembering the first time they saw each other and how they were in the exact same position just in a different setting. Jaehyun hummed with the slow song that was playing, lightly mumbling the lyrics with his baritone voice, as his smile never left his face, “This feels familiar,” he says lightly chuckling as he guided her once again through their dance. Y/N this time, only looked at him, no longer looking at her feet. “I think I could get used to this,” she replies making Jaehyun’s smile grow wider, his ears turning red.

“I may have not told you this earlier, but you look beautiful tonight,” he said face serious as they continued to sway to the music. “I mean, you look beautiful everyday, but you look extra pretty now,” he added. Y/N’s face scrunched up in disapproval, never fond of compliments but ever so receiving when it comes to Jaehyun.

“You look handsome as always, Jae,” she said sincerely, lips quirking up slightly at the new nickname she gave him.

Y/N glanced at Jaehyun once more as he continued to guide her carefully through the dance, her heart heavy as it seems that the thought of him not existing in reality would not leave her alone. Hesitating, she looks one more at the smile he has on his face, she really doesn’t want to hurt him. I don’t think I have it in me to hurt you, ever.

“I lo-“

“Jaehyun, I have to tell you something,” she says cutting him off as he was about to say something. Jaehyun looked at her surprise but smiled understandingly, this can wait, I can wait, l just a little bit more, he thought.

They went to the garden, there were still people walking around but less compared to those inside. Y/N’s heart was beating too loud she could hear it in her dream, she has to risk it. She needed to tell him, she had to tell him. “Just let me speak, and I’ll answer all your questions later,” she says as he looked at her curiously. Jaehyun nodded in response, encouraging her to continue as he grabbed both her hands to help her calm down.

“You don’t exist, you’re a part of my dream,” she said as she looked at Jaehyun whose eyebrows just furrowed, pursing his lips as to stop him from asking questions.

“It was my 23rd birthday two days ago, my friend gave me a gift of bottles that contained dreams. I thought it was bullshit at first, but the moment I drank the first bottle, I met you. And I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re just a part of my imagination. It pains me to say it, but I don’t think I could hide the truth from you anymore. The next time I met you, it was when we were at the park, I remember you asking me how I spaced out and how I seem not to pay attention. It was because I wasn’t mentally present when you were speaking to me. All those times I met you, I fell in love with you because you were all I ever wanted, and it hurts me to think that I can’t even have you in my life,”

  Y/N’s tears continued to roll down her face as she sobbed trying to gather her thoughts as Jaehyun looked at her with a mix of confusion and frustration. “This night, I drank my last bottle,” she says voice shaking as she felt Jaehyun’s hands stiffen under her hold.

“Remember when we made our wishes? I wished to live longer in this dream,” she says as he hugged her. Her tears drenching his suit, but that didn’t matter. This maybe her last moments with him, and her heart was hurting too much for her to take.

“Jaehyun, I love you,” she sobbed. She said it, without hesitation as she looked at Jaehyun with teary eyes. Jaehyun bit his lip, he didn’t even know where to start asking. He hugged her tightly as he felt his tears touch his lips, the taste salty as it continued to flow down his face. “I won’t tell you mine, because it won’t come true if I do,” he says as he puts a hand on his shoulder his face bending down to meet her eyes. His other hand brushed the stray strands against her face as she continued to cry.

“I shouldn’t be crying like this, we shouldn’t be doing this,” she said as she wiped her tears away trying to think of happy thoughts.

“Y/N, look at me,” Jaehyun said seriously. His hands with a firm grip on his shoulder. Y/N tried to hold back her tears as she saw the pain on his eyes, long gone the smiles he gave her earlier.

“Promise me, you’ll try,”  Y/N nodded as she grabbed his face and pressed a firm kiss on his lips.

“Don’t leave me, please,”

“I won’t, I swear,”

—————

Y/N woke up, her cheeks still wet as she felt tears stream down her face. Everything felt so real, the kiss, the confession, the promises. Jaehyun’s words still echoing in her mind as if she could hear his deep voice whispering beside her.

The moment she got up she tried contacting the old woman, and going back to the shop only to find that it was closed already and was going to be demolished soon. It has been a week since she last saw Jaehyun, a week since she has drank her last dream in a bottle. However, the heartache she went through was still as fresh as it was when she woke up. She tried her best to find him. She visited different libraries, reading on books about what happened to her and if there was a way to reverse it. She even tried going to a planetarium in hopes of finding Jaehyun there, but all found nothing. Some people thought she was crazy, and that she was hallucinating everything, but they didn’t know her story.

She even found the same venue where they had the ball, but to her disappointment, she never found anything that could lead her to Jaehyun or vice versa. It was if he was just a memory she was to forget. But that was the problem, she couldn’t forget him. She promised him she would try, and she didn’t want to let him down. Sometimes, she wondered what he was doing. Was he also trying to escape her mind? Was he with Naeun now that she was gone? Does she get those cheesy pickup lines he tells her? What was he doing now? Did he love her?

There were times when she tried to dream of him, but it wasn’t real. All she got was an image of him, but it didn’t feel like how she dreamt of him when she had the bottle. She tried to widen her imagination, and picture him with her. But it was too tiring for her, after all, she only had three nights of dreams.

As she made her way down the busy streets, she walked quickly as she navigated her way towards the central park as she continued to avoid the people bumping her while they were walking the opposite direction. She stopped in front of the cafe, heaving deep breaths. As she made her way in she walked towards the table in the corner, her lips forming into a smile as she saw the familiar face.

“It’s been a while,” she said hugging Mei. Mei grinned back at her and gestured her to sit down.

“So, how’s life so far?” Mei asked enthusiastically as she sipped on her tea, crossing her legs as she leaned forward. Y/N shrugged as she took a bite of her banana cake, “Nothing much, it’s been boring lately,” she said as she stabbed the banana cake and stuffing another piece into her mouth. “You know you never called me after the second bottle,” Mei huffed.

“Nothing happened, I tried to find the manufacturer because I needed more but the building was demolished,” she replied bitterly. “Ohh yeah, but the dreams were good right?” Mei responded.

“Yeah, too good to be true,” Y/N replied dejectedly. “Do you ever like, want your dreams to come true?” She asked Mei curiously as she bit her fork. “Of course, why the sudden question?” Mei retorted. “I dreamt about this guy, and he’s wonderful. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and I just wished he was true,” she replies sighing remembering Jaehyun once again which made her feel bittersweet. It was like she was the only one who knew him inside out, he literally was the man of her dreams.

“I don’t know what you dreamt about but whatever it is, I guess those bottles really work then,” Mei shrugged. “Besides, attachment is the root of suffering,” she adds taking a bite of the banana cake and wiggling her brows.

As she navigated her way home, Y/N sighs once again. Was it really that hard to forget Jaehyun? He didn’t even exist yet here she is feeling broken hearted as if she was cheated on once again by her ex boyfriend. Moving towards a crowd she felt people bump against her making her scrunch up her nose in irritation, “Damn, can’t people watch where they’re going?” She muttered under her breath as she made hurried strides towards her apartment.

Before she could take a turn, she felt a body bump against her as she fell on her butt looking up squinting. Pair of hands helped her stand up as she dusted herself, flustered that she caused a scene in public.

“Thank you,” she muttered quietly to the stranger who didn’t seem to budge as she tried to make her way.

“You should really watch where you’re going,” a deep voice said. Looking up, her jaw slacked. There he stood in front of her, with a light smile in his face his hair still swept back as he was dressed in a plain white tee with denim jeans and white sneakers. Jaehyun. If he looked ethereal in her dream, then she didn’t even know how to describe how he looked as he stood in front of her as she continued to stare at him in awe.

“I didn’t know you were this clumsy, I think you need to get used to me guiding you everywhere,” he added shaking his head as he took her hand in his as his smile radiated. He chuckled at her noticing her lack of response. He placed a small kiss on her forehead as his arm wrapped around her shoulder as he pulled her towards the direction of her apartment.

“How did you find me? How are you here? Are you real?” Y/N asked hurriedly as she stared at him in shock. Everyone was looking at Jaehyun, who wouldn’t really? The girls around continued to stare at him with heart eyes but they didn’t matter to him as his arm tightly wrapped around your shoulder. They didn’t matter cause they weren’t you. Y/N was too bewildered to even glare at those girls as her mind started thinking of all the possibilities on how he appeared.

“My wish came true,” Jaehyun stated as he faced her grinning at her amazed state. “What did you wish for?” Y/N asked curiously as she looked at Jaehyun who was still smiling at her softly.

“I wished I could spend the rest of my life loving you,”

Y/N stopped walking as Jaehyun grabbed her shoulders and faced her towards him. “Why did you say that? Now it won’t come true,” she scolded him as she pouted. Jaehyun laughed at her response. “I’m not going anywhere though, you got me, you got me good,” he winked making her blush just like in her dream.

“Oh and Y/N,” he added as he bent down meeting her eyes as she looked at him with flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

“I love you too,”  

#jaehyun fic #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun au #nct fic #jaehyun imagines #jung jaehyun #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun fanfic

[walkerwords]

“The Fall of a King” Negan x F!Reader

GIF CREDIT: https://gfycat.com/delectablelinedindianjackal

Request from @thanossexual​ :  Can you please write Rick x Reader where Y/n is Negan's right hand and she totally takes the crown from his head when he tries to kill Rick's people. Let's say that she is Simon's weakness and that's why he didn't do anything to help Negan. No one did because all of them knew that she was their true leader but she hid in Negan's shadow because no one would listen to a woman. She tells Negan that he can go fck himself and goes with Rick to Alexandria to help them. (Glenn and Abraham live pls)

Word Count: 6015

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “You Should See Me In A Crown” by Billie EiIish

Note: Okay, confession time. I didn’t actually make this a Rick x Reader because i sort of didn’t remember too...fuck. But they do talk briefly and the rest is there. and i changed it a bit, but Negan gets taken down. Sorry, if i royally fucked your request, I’ll pay more attention next time....oh god.

------

You walked through the corridors of the Sanctuary, your boots soaked in the blood of your fallen fellow Saviors. 

As you passed by the other inhabitants of the factory, they bowed their heads toward you. Not quite kneeling, but showing you respect nonetheless. You ignored them as you headed up a dark staircase. You only had one destination in mind and if he was in a meeting then they would have to come back another time. 

Arriving at the door to his bedroom, you knocked twice. You heard a muffled “come in” on the other side and you pushed into the room. Negan stood by the windows watching over his kingdom. “Well?” He asked, keeping his back turned. 

You walked over to his desk and slammed down a shell casing. Negan looked over his shoulder, raising a single brow. “They’re all dead,” you said simply. The anger that passed over his face was clear and you knew it was only a matter of time before he bashed someone’s head in with Lucille. 

As Negan stared at the casing, your thoughts went back to what you had seen at the Satellite Station. Some new group had broken in during the night and slaughtered every one stationed there, slitting their throats in their sleep. The last time you had seen that much fresh blood was after your family had been killed. That was right before Simon had found you and brought you home to the Sanctuary where you’ve been ever since.

“No survivors?” He asked, bracing his hands on his desk. 

“None that we could find,” you explain, sitting into your right hip. “Whoever did this, they have a shit ton of firepower.” You watched as he rubbed his hand over his bearded face, trying to stay calm. “There’s something else,” you said. 

“Tell me,” Negan said, his gruff voice very low. 

“There’s a connection to The Hilltop,” you said. 

“How do you know?” 

“One of the men who walked the perimeter radioed me and told me that Gregory was having issues controlling his people. Some brothers got greedy or didn’t come through on a delivery. Your men ordered them to bring Gregory’s head to the outpost in exchange for the other brother. Seems like they brought a head, but it wasn’t Gregory’s.” 

“Jesus,” Negan said, “so these assholes cut off some dude’s head as a decoy?” You shrugged. 

“I bet it was just a Biter they found, but yeah, the whole thing was a ruse.” 

“The Hilltop has new allies? Another community?”

“That would be my guess,” you said, nodding. “Some new place with good fighters and a lot of ammo. Our people have been through Hilltop multiple times, if they were hiding an armory like that, we would have found it. Besides, you know Gregory, he’s a coward and he’d be too afraid to lie about having guns. Especially to Simon.”

“Well he’s not much of a coward if he’s havin’ these dicks to his dirty work, is he?” 

“Probably not,” you said, collapsing into a chair behind his desk. “I bet it was the same people that blew up the bikes.” 

“Would make sense,” he agreed. “Son of a bitch!” He growled as he paced. “I’m gonna kill them, all of them.”

“Let’s not rush into anything, Negan,” you said, carefully. “The last thing we need is more dead Saviors.”

“So, what? You want me to just sit on my ass while these assholes shoot more of my men? Is that what you want, (Y/N)?” Negan said, turning his fury filled eyes on you.

You were unbothered by his demeanor. You knew Negan almost better than anyone. When Simon had brought you to him in the first place, he had tried to intimidate you, but you had grown up with men like him and he never scared you. Negan picked up on your lack of fear pretty quickly and took a liking to you. 

He started you out on simple jobs. Mostly running the fence and keeping the workers in line. Though, when someone had tried to attack Frankie, you had taken the man down in only a few moves, breaking the guy’s back. Negan had finished the bastard off, but that single action had promoted you to Savior immediately. 

Slowly, you got more and more responsibility and the rest of the men and women began to look to you for leadership whenever Negan wasn’t around. Simon, especially. You were now Negan’s right-hand woman and probably the only one in the factory bold enough to call Negan on his temper and in some cases, his utter bullshit behavior. 

“That’s not what I said, Negan,” you said slowly. “But if you go after these people and it turns out that they have more artillery than we know of, we're all screwed. Hell, they could have more RPGs, bigger explosives, more guns, or even more people. They took out nearly every man before the alarm went off. So I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want to fuck with them until I had more information.”

“Didn’t realize you were givin’ the orders now,” he said as he approached you. Negan leaned over you, bracing both of his hands on the arms of the chair you sat in. His dark eyes drilling into yours. 

“Never said I was,” you told him, not breaking eye contact. “Not everything is as black and white as you think it is, Negan.” He slammed his hands down, trying to intimidate you, but you remained as still as a statue. 

“I make the decisions, I decide who dies, (Y/N),” he growled. “Isn’t that why you’re still alive?” 

“Don’t!” You yelled, pushing him back. He leaned back from you, letting you get up as he watched you, the anger still present on his face. “Don’t you say that shit to me. This whole ‘intimidation’ bullshit doesn’t work on me. Threats don’t work. I’m not some little girl you can scare, Negan. I’m not one of your wives and I’m definitely not one of your bitches like Dwight who laps at your heels. You asked me to go check out the outpost and advise you on our next move. Well there it is, I advise that we make sure we know who we’re dealing with before we start shooting or in your case, swingin’.” 

You were out of breath as you finished your speech. Negan stared down at you, his arms crossed. You could tell he wanted to hit something or even someone, but you also knew that he'd never lay his hands on you. He had tried once before, but after you said no as soon as he tried to kiss you, he had backed off immediately. However, now you weren’t so sure his furniture was going to survive the rest of the day. 

“Anything else?” He asked through a rigid jaw. 

“I think someone should take out Gregory. We both know he’s an idiot. He’s become a liability,” you explained. Negan was silent for a few moments before taking a few more steps back and gesturing to the door. 

“I’ll think about it,” he said. “Get out.” You didn’t have to be told twice. Walking swiftly, you exited the room and headed straight for the nearest staircase, needing to get as much distance between you and the bossman as possible. There was only one person you wanted to talk to right now and you knew right where to find him.

You found Simon in the hall outside of his room. 

“Hey, (Y/N),” he greeted with a wave. You didn’t answer him as you pushed past him and into his room. He followed you as you flopped down on his bed with a sigh. “Was it that bad?” you glared at him through narrowed eyes. “That would be a yes.” Simon took a seat in the chair across from you. 

“What is the point in him even asking me for help? Every time I give him advice, he ignores everything I say, Simon. I don’t even know the point of it all anymore,” you vented, staring up at his ceiling. 

“Careful, girl,” he said, watching the door. 

“Oh, calm down, Simon,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “You act like he has superhuman hearing.” 

“Some days, I really think he does,” Simon mumbled, kicking his feet up. “Maybe you should just keep your head down for a while?” You sat up on your elbows, staring at him. You and Simon were as close as ever. You knew he had feelings for you, but you never felt that way. However, he was the closest thing to family you had right now and you trusted him with everything you had. The main problem was that he was as loyal to Negan as anyone. He took the phrase “I am Negan” to heart and damn anyone who disagreed with him. 

“You’re asking me to lay down like a damn dog?” you asked, your brows raised. 

“Only for a little while. You know, just until this whole new group situation is figured out.”

“I’m the one who should be figuring out how to handle all of this! Negan trusts me to handle all the dirty work, but all he seems to care about right now is making some kind of head-bashing spectacle. Fear-mongering only goes so far, Simon,” you explain, falling back onto the bed. 

“What are you saying?” he asked, concerned. 

“He wants this new world to prosper. He’s saved people and protected children and women and he’s done a lot of good, right?”

“Of course,” Simon agreed. 

“Exactly, so why is it that the only way he thinks to get people to work for him or invest in this new world of his is to threaten them with death and or starvation, etc.? Do you not see how wrong that is? Ruling with an iron fist has never worked in the past, I don’t know why he thinks it’ll work now.”

“Because it has?” Simon offered. You scoffed. 

“Yeah, for now,” you said, getting to your feet. “Face it, Si, one day shit is gonna hit the fan and people are going to stop being afraid of him.”

“So what do you propose, (Y/N)?” 

“Nothing right now,” you said, heading for the door, “but I wouldn’t expect Negan to always be the one in charge around here.”

-----

After a couple of weeks of nothing, you were getting worried. 

Negan had kept you out of meetings when he would meet with Arat, Simon, and Dwight. He had also recalled the outpost leaders and even began sending out scouts. Whenever you would see him walking around the compound, he would simply walk away and grin as his followers fell to their knees before him.

When you had asked Simon about it, he brushed it off as “guy talk” or something completely unrelated to what had happened at the Sat Station. You knew he was lying. Simon was the worst liar you knew and it was becoming blatantly obvious that something was about to happen.

The day came not long after your talk with Simon. You were lounging around in your room, trying to get a few hours of rest before you had to go back on guard duty when a knock came at your door. “It’s open!” you yelled. You looked up from the book you had been flipping through to see Sherry enter your room and quickly close the door behind her. You didn’t know her that well, but she was the only wife you tolerated. Especially knowing why and how she had married Negan. 

“Something has happened,” Sherry explained, rushing over to sit down on the bed next to you. She looked almost frantic. 

“Sherry, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” you asked, looking over her quickly, but she was shaking her head. 

“No, no, no,” she rambled, “it’s not me, it’s Dwight and Negan, and the others.” 

“Okay, calm down,” you said, grabbing her shaking hands. “Start from the beginning. What has happened?” Sherry took a few deep breaths before she spoke. 

“Negan ordered Simon and Dwight and bunch of the other outpost leaders to set up roadblocks,” Sherry explained. “The other group, the ones that took out the Sat Station?” you nodded, “They’re on the move and Negan wants to ambush them.” 

“They’re on their way here?” you asked, confused, but Sherry was shaking her head. 

“No, they’re headed towards Hilltop,” she explained. 

“Sherry, how do you know all of this?” you asked. All of this was privileged information. Only the Saviors close to Negan knew specific details about plans. Sherry hiked up her dress and pulled out a radio she had fastened to her thigh. 

“Frankie and I took this about a month ago from Fat Joey,” she whispered, “We’ve had it to keep an eye on what’s going on.” You stared at the radio, surprised. The girl had guts, you had to admit. She pressed the radio into your hands. 

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” you asked, reading the worried woman’s face. 

“Daryl Dixon,” she whispered. 

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” you asked. 

“Do you remember when Dwight, Tina, and I escaped?” she asked and you nodded your head. “Well, when we were running, we ran into this man, Daryl, and Dwight tried to rob him. He took his crossbow and then tried to get his motorcycle. Hell, we held him at gunpoint as we escaped through the forest. Eventually, he fought back and stole the bag we were carrying.”

“The one full of insulin,” you nodded, remembering Tina was diabetic.

“Right, well once he realized what we had stolen...he brought it back and tried to help us. He then told us he was from someplace that could take us in. He was relatively clean, had food, weapons…” she said, trailing off, waiting for you to catch up. 

“He’s from the other community. The new one?” you realized. 

“Yes,” Sherry said. “Daryl helped us when he didn’t know us and he helped me bury Tina. He’s a good man, (Y/N).” 

“Why are you telling me this, Sherry?” 

“Because before I came here, I heard on the radio that Dwight had taken ‘the archer’ captive. Shot him in the shoulder and took him along with other members of the group. I think we both know what happens next once Negan starts to round up people from a community. Remember what happened at Hilltop and then the story about all those men and boys killed?” You did remember. You weren’t a part of the Saviors when that particular attack had happened, but Simon and Arat had told you the stories. It was one of the reasons that you didn’t follow blindly behind Negan and kept a lot of the Saviors close in your confidence. You knew it was only a matter of time before something similar happened again. 

“He’s going to make an example of these new people,” you figured and Sherry nodded. 

“Look, I don’t care about the others, but Daryl saved me and he tried to save Tina. He didn’t have to return the medicine to us or offer us a chance to go with him, but he did. I don’t want him to die and I do not want to enter a war with people that were probably just trying to do something good.”

“Sherry, they killed an entire outpost of people,” you reminded her. 

“Right because all of the Saviors are saints,” she said and you knew she was thinking of Negan and more importantly her husband who was introduced to the iron once they had been taken back home. “(Y/N), you and I both know he is out of control. Negan is unfit to lead us any longer.”

“I go up against Negan and I die,” you told her, letting go of her hands. Sherry was again shaking her head. 

“You have a lot more people in your corner than you think,” she said, getting up. Sherry walked over to your desk and picked up your sawed-off shotgun. She tossed it to you and you caught it easily. “I know you think the same way as I do, (Y/N), so please, do something. If not for me then for all the innocent people that are forced to work here and fear a monster.” 

Sherry’s speech vibrated through your bones and as you stood from the bed, a small smile crept on your face. “Sherry, if this goes wrong and I die, I’ll haunt your ass,” you promised. Seeing that you were on board, she smiled back. 

“So, don’t get killed.”

-----

You set out not long after you and Sherry talked. 

Fat Joey was on watch and you barely had to sneak past him to get to a bike. The man was clueless and while you were always allowed to leave the Sanctuary, you didn’t want anyone tipping Negan, Simon, or Dwight off that you had left. Sherry had said she would cover for you as long as she could, buying you as much time as possible. It was official, you really did like that girl. 

Strapping your shotgun to your back, you kickstarted the bike and took off towards the main stretch of road Sherry had heard indicated on the radio. Said radio was on your belt along with another pistol and duel blades were in your boots. You were armed for a fight and one that you knew could happen. Fear entered your gut as you rode. While you weren’t exactly afraid of Negan, you knew he had a lot of power. You only hoped that Sherry was right and that you had more supporters than you initially thought. 

Stashing the bike just under an overpass, you went on foot. You needed to stay invisible as long as possible. Any kind of tip-off would ruin your plan and considering you only had one, everything needed to be perfect. An hour or so later and you found one of the roadblocks. Simon’s voice was the first one you heard.

Keeping an eye on the Saviors on the perimeter, you snuck through the brush and got within earshot. On the road was Simon along with the main group of men he commanded. Across from your people was a large RV. People stood out in front of it, all armed. Simon was taunting a man that stood at the front of the new group. He was handsome, tall, had a bit of beard, and he looked at Simon as if he were something less than human. You instantly knew that this was the new group. 

Getting closer, you looked for anyone that resembled Daryl on either side, but you couldn’t see anyone that fit Sherry’s description. You then knew that “the archer” was indeed Daryl and Negan already had him. You watched the exchange a little longer before the leader of the opposition, ordered everyone back inside the RV and they took off back down the road. Simon then signaled for his men to move out. You snuck away from the edge of the trees, moving deeper into the woods.

You knew how all of this would work. Saviors would continue to corral the group along the road, keeping them from getting to Hilltop. It was a tactic you had helped develop all to insight fear and paranoia. It worked on smaller groups and then Negan would lay down the law, give a speech, and then let them go with the promise Saviors would be taking their stuff. However, none of those previous smaller groups had slaughtered Saviors before. You just knew this was going to get bloody. 

You didn’t bother trying to track down the other roadblocks. Instead, you waited by the radio trying to figure out where the final place was going to be. Negan liked large areas that he could use to put on a show. It also needed vantage spots to watch for Biters and needed to provide areas to block in the hostages. A literal nightmare. 

You walked through the forest as the sun dipped below the trees, keeping your eyes and ears open. Any time you heard a noise, your mind went to Negan. Your nerves were getting to you and all you could think about was him finding you and making an example of you. You don’t know when he had stopped trusting you, but from your last meeting, it was apparent that he didn’t want to look to you for advice any longer. 

It was completely dark by the time you heard where the final spot was. You trekked through the dark woods, keeping light on your feet. You only had to kill a few Dead as you moved through the darkness. You were getting more and more anxious, but you kept a steady hand on your gun. Hearing an engine of a large vehicle, you slipped towards the treeline to see the same RV from before. You couldn’t make out what they were saying from where you were, but soon they began to move. The RV drove off North as a larger group stayed behind. You watched as they placed someone, a woman, on a makeshift stretcher and headed into the woods. 

You realized that the RV was a decoy, but you also knew that it wouldn’t work. Negan was too smart. You followed the group through the woods, always staying parallel to them. Whoever was laying on the stretcher was not doing well at all. You figured she was the reason they were going to Hilltop as they had a great doctor, the brother to the one at the Sanctuary. That thought made you a bit sick. These people weren’t going to team up or anything, they just needed to help a sick woman. You tightened your grip on your gun and hurried through the trees.

It didn’t take long for the ambush to happen. You circled back, careful not to come across any of the Saviors that rushed at the group. You watched as a clearing up ahead was instantly illuminated with headlights. The group tried to run, but men were on them in a matter of seconds. They all panicked, clearly underestimating their enemy. Simon appeared next, walking towards the leader. He ordered the man to drop the stretcher that held the sick woman. 

One by one, the group complied and set her down. Simon then took their weapons, keeping that sick smile on his face. Sometimes you really worried about your friend. You couldn’t tell if it was all an act or if he truly enjoyed tormenting people. That would be something you would have to figure out and soon. 

Simon ordered the entire group to their knees. They were all lined up before the RV that you knew was always going to end up there. A single man knelt by the vehicle. A scared, shivering man that Simon forced over into the line-up. Moving closer, you watched as Arat opened the back of a van, and out came three more people. A young Asian man, a dark-skinned woman, and a man with shaggy hair and blood dripping down his arm. You instantly identified him as Daryl Dixon. Sherry was right, he was definitely someone you would notice. 

The Asian man struggled on the ground before his eyes met those of the sick woman. “Maggie?” he gasped and she cried as she looked at him. You looked at her closer and noticed how her hands stayed right on her stomach, almost as if she was protecting herself. It was then that you remembered that the Doctor Carson who lived at Hilltop was an obstetrician. Rage entered your veins as you realized she was pregnant and something was definitely wrong. Your anger only increased when you saw that next to the shivering man was a kid. 

The boy had to be around sixteen or seventeen and judging by the way the leader kept glancing at him, you figured he was his son. You thought of your own brother who had died as a teenager as well and your teeth ground together as you watched this boy stare at Simon with pure anger. You knew that this boy had seen some terrible things and you were willing to bet that he wanted to kill every single Savior in that clearing. 

It wasn’t long after that Simon announced Negan. You stayed in the shadows as Simon yelled, “Let’s meet the man!” You stared as Negan exited the RV, Lucille on his shoulder, and a grin on his face. Simon stepped back to let the boss have his audience. 

“Pissing our pants yet?” Negan said, “Boy, do I have a feeling we’re getting close. Yep, it’s gonna be Pee Pee Pants City here real soon. Which one of you pricks is the leader?” Simon pointed to the man from earlier. Negan approached him, swinging the bat. “Hi, you’re Rick, right? I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people. Not cool. Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is, but I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly.”

You slowly reloaded your weapon, getting ready. The other leader, Rick, stared up at Negan, sweat blooming on his brow as your boss continued. “Yeah, you are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes. Yes, you are. You see, Rick, whatever you do, no matter what, you don’t mess with the new world order. And the new world order is this, and it’s really very simple, so, even if you’re stupid, which you very may well be, you can understand it. You ready? Here goes, pay attention: Give me your shit, or I will kill you.”

You moved. 

You stepped out of the trees and fired your gun into the air, shattering the tense and terrifying silence. Saviors all turned their weapons on you as you stepped through the cars. However, once they saw it was you, some lowered them immediately. Negan looked over at you, tilting his head. He let out a slow whistled. “Well, shit!” he bellowed as he looked at you moving closer. “There you are sweetheart! I was wondering when you’d join us.” 

“Guess my invitation got lost,” you sneered, stalking towards him. You stopped just on the edge of the line-up, placing yourself between Negan and his hostages.

“Finally here to take me up on that offer I proposed to you all that time ago?” he asked, leering at you. You lifted your gun and cracked open the barrel, letting the shells drop to the ground.  

“That is never going to happen, Negan,” you said tossing your empty weapon to Simon who caught it on instinct. 

“Well, then what the fuck are you doing here? Because I’m in the middle of the something, (Y/N), and you know how much I hate being interrupted,” he said, leaning back. You ignored him and glanced down at Rick who was looking at you in confusion. You then looked down the line to see Maggie, clearly still in a lot of pain.

“You,” you snapped your fingers at a Savior. “Water.” The man, you think his name was Matthew, tossed you his canteen. You moved past Negan and he stepped out of your way, clearly amused. Slowly, you crouched down before Maggie. She stared at you with wide eyes, her hands still clutching her stomach. You removed the cap of the canteen and made a show taking a long sip of the water to show it wasn’t contaminated before offering her the bottle. “It’s okay,” you whispered, gently. Maggie reached out with a shaking hand and took the water, lifting the bottle to her lips. 

You stood then and turned to Negan who was now glaring at you. “What the hell is this, (Y/N)?” he said, pointing Lucille at Maggie. You made a barrier between him and her. 

“Don’t you dare point that thing at a pregnant woman, Negan,” you spat, getting your courage back. His brow furrowed as he looked at Maggie and then back at you.

“Again with giving orders, Darlin’!” he yelled, shaking his head. “I thought we shut that shit down!” You shook your head, moving towards him.

“We didn’t do anything, Negan. We haven’t done shit in a while. I used to be your right hand, but you clearly don’t see the need for me anymore. Tell me, Boss, when are you going to use that thing on me?” you asked, pointing at Lucille.

“Oh, I’m thinking about it right now,” he sneered. You rolled your eyes as you began to circle him.

“You know, when I heard about this little gathering, I was hurt that I wasn’t included. I mean, I was the one that invented the whole roadblock thing in the first place, right? And imagine my surprise when I find you doing this,” you gestured to the line-up. “You’re an asshole, Negan, but since when do you torment a sick, pregnant woman and a fucking kid?” you asked, pointing to the boy in the hat. Negan goes to speak, but you shush him, surprising the shit out of him. 

“I’m not finished,” you said, smiling at him. You then turned to Rick. “Rick, was it? Look, Rick, I don’t like all this unnecessary drama and the whole ‘I’m the alpha male and you’re my bitch’ scenario. If I had it my way, I would have met with you and you alone and discussed all of this like civilized fucking people. Am I pissed that you and yours murdered a bunch of my people?” you shrugged, “Meh, they weren’t the best company anyways.”

“(Y/N)...” Negan warned, but you just placed your finger against your lips, telling him to shut it. 

“Let me ask you something, Rick,” you said, kneeling down to his level. “This is all Gregory’s fault, right? He offered you something, maybe food or medicine, if you took out Negan and his men.”

“Somethin’ like that,” Rick said.

“Well, here’s the thing about that little weasel, he lies. He knew about the other outposts and our main set up. He played you. In fact, I bet he did it just so we would focus on killing you instead of taking more from Hilltop, Kingdom, etc. However, I don’t like being fucked with and Negan really hates it, but unlike the brute behind me, I’m not a total sociopath.”

“Dammit, (Y/N)!” Simon called and you gave him the finger over your shoulder. 

“Now! The fun part!” you said, getting to your feet. “Boss!” You called, looking at a very annoyed Negan. “Do you wanna know a secret?” 

“If it will get you to shut the fuck up,” Negan said, knocking Lucille against his boots. 

“You see, there is a little bit more to a story you’ve been told,” you said as you walked towards Dwight that stood behind Daryl. You clapped the scarred Savior on the shoulder. “Dwighty boy, here, actually knows this one pretty well,” you said, pointing at Daryl. “Daryl was the one who helped Dwight, Tina, and your wife Sherry keep away from our men all those weeks ago,” you explained. “Hell, he even tried to help Daryl and even thought about joining him and Rick at their wonderful community.”

“What?” Dwight said, shoving your hand off. You ruffled his stringy hair and then you noticed the crossbow in his hands. Negan glared at Dwight, his grip tightening on his bat. 

“Don’t worry, Dwight, Sherry told me everything,” you explained. “She’s a good one, it’s a shame you couldn’t keep hold of her!” You then kicked out at Dwight’s knee, sending him down. You snatched up the crossbow and weighed it in your hands. “Oh, I like this!” you kept hold of it as you approached Negan. “You are such an idiot, you know that? Look at these people, Negan! They’re just trying to survive and you wanna punish them for it? Like we haven’t killed people? You are not above any other person.” You then raised the bow to line up with his chest. “But shit, maybe you are below me.”

Negan lunged for you and you quickly stepped back, tripping him. Negan fell to the ground and your foot aimed for Lucille. You kicked the infernal bat from his hands. “Get on your knees,” you said, pressing the bow to the back of his head. 

“You’re gonna regret this,” he spat. 

“No, I don’t think I will, Negan,” you said as he sat on his knees, trying to keep his dignity. “You see, this has been coming for a while. I didn’t know how it would go exactly, but then your wife gave me the idea. Isn’t that adorable? She told me to do something and hell, I was thrilled to do just that. There is a new leader now, buddy, and you aren’t it.”

“Simon!” Negan yelled, but Simon shook his head. 

“Sorry, Negan,” Simon said, “I’m not gonna pretend to follow you anymore.” Smugness entered your body. More and more Saviors then began to lower their guns and step forward. Sherry was right after all. Arat came through and pointed her gun at Negan, nodding to you. 

“Seems like I’m the Savior now,” you said. Simon received Lucille and offered her to you. You tossed the bow to him and took the bat. “Give that back to Mr. Dixon, will you?” Simon nodded and went to give Daryl back his weapon. “Oh, I do love the feel of this!” you said, swinging Lucille around. 

“Take your hands off of her, you bitch!” Negan bellowed. You kicked out at his back, sending him to the ground. 

“Language!” you yelled with a laugh. You then turned to a worried Dwight. “Oh, Dwight, don’t worry I’m not going to kill you. No, that is something that will happen because of your own stupidity. I give you maybe a year before the Biters get ya. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Sherry is perfectly fine.” You then noticed a vest on his back and Sherry’s words came back to you. “That vest isn’t yours either, is it? Give Daryl his vest back would ya, Dwight?” The man tore it off and threw it at Daryl who was only watching you. “Y’all are free to go,” you said to Rick and his people. “Get Miss Maggie to Carson.” 

“Why?” The boy asked you, claiming your attention. 

“What’s your name, kid?” you asked. 

“Carl Grimes,” he said. 

“Rick your dad?” he nodded, “Well then, Mister Grimes, let me explain something to you,” you said as you rested your foot on Negan’s leg, pressing hard. Arat never moved her gun from his head. “I hate men like this,” you said, pointing Lucille at Negan, “and I am so fucking tired of people trying to rule over the Living while we are always fighting the Dead. Y’all are smart, well-trained,” you looked at Daryl, “incredibly great to look at,” you threw him a wink, “and I never liked the people at the Sat Station anyways. Fuck, I may have done the exact same thing as you did if I was in your position. So, here’s how it goes now. You leave and I don’t take your shit because that stops right now.”

“Looks like the Queen has taken the crown,” Simon said smugly. You smiled at him.

“Negan won’t be seeing daylight for a while, my new friends,” you said to Rick and his people. “There’s been a change in management.”

Around you, all the Saviors began to kneel, bowing their heads to their new leader. Negan swore at you from the ground, but you ignored him. You had always been the true leader and now he was finally seeing it. Kneeling down to his level, you grabbed Negan’s chin. “Tell me,” you said,  “are we pissin’ our pants yet?”

TAGS: @thanossexual​

#the walking dead imagines #twd imagines #negan imagine #badass reader #reader insert #daryl dixon imagine #maggie rhee #glenn rhee #carl grimes #rick grimes #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #walkerwords

[saviorinsilk]

Right Hand Witch

Words: 2 810

Ship: Cordelia Goode x female reader

It was a moonless night, the sky a deep pit of darkness that seemed to go on forever. I yanked the front gate open and walked up the stairs of Miss Robichaux's Academy, my relatively slow pace annoying one of the women behind me.

"Hurry up bitch!" Madison spat as she pushed past me, her designer dress soaked in the down pouring rain. I didn't pay much attention to her or her comment, my mind stuck replaying the events of tonight over and over until it made me sick. The horrible images flashed in my eyes, blinding me with pain. I had never seen that much blood in my life and smell of his breath still lingered in my nostrils. I desperately craved the heavenly scent of Cordelia's perfume, her aroma had always calmed me and right now I could use a bottle of it. Madison left the front door open and Queenie and I walked through as she shook her head, the water spraying everywhere. The short walk from the taxi to the house had left us drenched. I lazily kicked my flats off, each one falling perfectly beside the other, on the grey shoe match. I made no effect to get any of the water off me, making a mess was truly the last thing on mind. I just wanted to crawl into bed with my sweet Delia and snuggle my face into her glorious blonde hair, the floral scent of her shampoo coaxing me to sleep.

As Queenie shut the door, I hung up my soaked black jacket as well as my matching hat on the brass coat holder and I started down the hallway. I squeezed my eyes shut, cursing under my breath as Misty came darting down the large staircase, the panic in her filling the air. I had wished that I could have just pretended that tonight hadn't happened but Misty knew and if Misty knew, she knew too.

"Oh, Darlin come here!" Misty cried as she slammed into me, knocking the wind out of me in the process. Her warm arms held me tightly to her heaving chest and she planted a big kiss on my forehead.

"I'm so glad you're okay. I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to you." Misty sniffled through tears. I hugged her back, melting into the silky material of her shawl and was about to tell her that I was fine when the loud clicks of high heels sounded down the stairs and my heart sank. I had never felt as connected to another human being as I felt to Cordelia Goode. In some circumstances, it was a joyous gift. Our intimate moments were like something out of fantasy but when either of us was in despair, this gift of ours sent aches through the heart and soul of the other. Tonight Cordelia's heart was breaking and I felt it more intensely than I had ever felt anything, good or bad.

I squeezed my eyes closed, still hidden from her sight in Misty's hair, I knew this peaceful moment wouldn't last for long.

"Miss Cordelia was so worried about you Y/N. She had a vision. She saw him kill you." Misty whispered in my ear. I didn't want to let go of my best friend, I knew I had messed up tonight and being aware of how much agony I had caused Cordelia made me even more ashamed.

I finally faced the facts and I pulled away from Misty and glanced over her shoulder. Cordelia reached the bottom of the stairs at that moment and I took her image in. She was in her long, light pink robe, the cream nightgown she wore underneath poking through the bottom. Her hair was messy at the front and her beautiful pale face was red and puffy from the numerous tears she had cried over me. If it had a cheerful moment I would have chuckled at the black high heels she wore. No matter what time it was, or was state she herself was in, Cordelia always liked to look presentable and even though it was late into the night, she walked towards me with them on. I could imagine her saying to me something along the lines of, "What if one of the girls got up for water and saw me? I got to make sure they always feel safe and secure, even if I'm falling apart."

Since it wasn't a time for laughs and giggles, I look at my hands, avoiding her eye contact. I normally wasn't like this. I stood up for myself no matter who was against me and I always challenged Cordelia, even if it got under her skin sometimes. Right now though, I watched as I fiddled with my fingers nervously, every ounce of fight I had left in me vanished with the sight of her mournful eyes.

The room filled with silence and Cordelia simply nodded at the others. I heard their footsteps carry them up the stairs and into their bedrooms. Misty ran her hand gently up and down my arm, trying to offer what little comfort she could. After a few agonizing moments that seem to last a lifetime, Cordelia's voice sliced through the silence, sorrow laced with her words.

"Misty dear, could you please give me and Y/N a moment alone?" As she asked she disappeared into the living room and I was genuinely surprised. I had thought she would run to embrace me, as I would have with it had been her stumbling in from a storm late at night. As Misty pulled away, giving me a sympathetic smile as she left, I was filled with dread. Delia had just walked away without a word to me and the only time she ever did that was when she was angry. I gulped and somehow convinced myself to follow her into the open area of the room in which she was in.

There she was, standing in front of the fireplace, which was light on the cool rainy night. I stepped closer to Cordelia, as she wiped her cheeks free of tears, sniffling loudly.

"Delia, baby I'm so s-" She cut me off with a booming voice before I could properly apologize.

"HOW COULD YOU!? I have told you over and over again that I don't want to you going to Bourbon Street at night! Not only did you go there, but you also left and went off on your own!" Cordelia's anger shook me to the bones and my bright blue eyes welled up with tears. I knew I deserved whatever she was going to give to me but what I really needed her to do was to hold me, to feel her skin against mine.

"I know. I was stupid. Queenie and Madison wanted to go out and get a drink. I told you were just going just out for a late dinner because I know you worry so much and I really didn't think anything would happen. I just wanted to save you so stress. I left the bar because I was really hungry and all they had there were super spicy wings and you know I hate spicy food. There was a diner across the street and down a few blocks so I went to just get some friends and an ice tea." I tried to explain but as the fiery only grew in my women dark eyes I cursed in my mind, wishing I had left out the part of me not wanting her to worry.

"YOU DIDN'T WANT ME TO WORRY!?" She shouted. I knew half the house was awake by now and I wished I could punch myself for the idiotic act I had committed. Cordelia never got this mad, never even raised her voice much at Madison. I had awakened the beast deep in this beautiful creature.

"I thought you were dead Y/N. I watched that hunter silt your throat as he laughed, but I couldn't do anything about it because your mind was blocked from me because of his voodoo relict." Fresh tears streamed down her sunken face and I had to fight back the urge to stroke them gently away with my thumb.

"I'm sorry Delia I-" I tried to say but once again Cordelia interrupted me as if she hadn't heard my timid voice at all.

"You risked your life for fries? Fries, really Y/N? I'm sure one of the girls would have gone with you if you were really that hungry. You shouldn't have even been there in the first place. When are you going to start listening to me instead of Madison? All this time you're spending with her is causing her bad traits to start to rub off on you." She spat, her voice shaky with dark emotions. She knew that would hurt me but she wasn't holding anything back. Something went off in my head at that moment. I was nothing like Madison and no amount of time spent with that spoilt, ungrateful witch was going to change that. As anger pumped through my veins, my eyes darkened and with a pulse of energy that shot from me like a bullet, the flames inside the fireplace soar to impossible heights, it roaring loudly. Cordelia's furious expression shattered and her eyes flickered for me to the flames my anger had caused.

"I am nothing like that inconsiderate bitch. I left because I was uncomfortable staying where I was. Some drunk asshole groped my ass and pushed me against the bloody wall when I was trying to find my way from the bathroom back to our table. I begged the girls to leave, telling them what happened but Madison just blew me off, saying maybe a good dicking would turn me straight. Queenie was too busy talking to one of the guys that Madison had dragged over to our table while I was gone. I wasn't going to stay there, plus because of their new "friends", there wasn't even a chair for me anymore. I had seen the diner when we arrived, so I figured it was a good option for me. You know how I get when I'm mad. I can't control my abilities as well as you Cordelia. I told them where I was going and they said they would come to pick me up when they were done. I got there fine but when I reached for the door that's when he grabbed me. There were people around, I should have been fine but as he dragged me down the back ally, no one even looked our way." I stopped speaking and held my hand to my mouth as a soft sob broke through. I couldn't stop the tears now and they flooded my face like a city below a broken levy.

All traces of anger vanished from Cordelia's face at that moment. She hated seeing me cry, even if she knew I deserved the self-loathing I was putting myself through. I took a few steps towards the couch and I lowered myself down to it with shaky legs. I hadn't noticed how cold I was until now, it felt like the chill had eaten away at my flesh.

Cordelia moved quickly, grabbing a white plush towel that was draped over the armchair that sat beside the couch. She wrapped it around me snuggly but gently and practically fell to her knee in front of me. Her slender hands cupped my flushed cheeks, running her thumb along my cool skin in a soothing circular motion. I sighed at the contact and leaned into her touch.

"I know I should have listened to you. I wasn't thinking. I never am. I thought I was going to die." I frantically apologized. My lips were silenced by Cordelia warm, soft set of lips. Her lips were wet with salty tears and they slid against mine wonderfully. The desperation we were both feeling poured out in that kiss and my breath was taken away as Cordelia kissed me as if it were the last time she ever could. Which was probably something that earlier in the night she thought she would never get to do again. This kiss spelled that out as clear as day. When she pulled back, she wiped my tears under my eyes again with her thumb, gazing lovingly into my eyes.

"I know you are. I'm sorry for losing my temper. I just never thought I was going to see you again." She spoke, her voice hitching when she got the words that caused her the most pain. I brought my hand up to her face and I wiped her tears as well, my fingers sliding over them like a hot knife on butter.

"You are my everything Y/N. I couldn't go on without you. Death would be better." She cried. I shook my head and kissed her softly again.

"Shh my Delia, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere I promise," I mumbled against her pale rose plump lips that I so desperately wanted to devourer with mine once more.

"Are you hurt? What did that bastard do to you?" She asked, pulling back. She began tracing every inch of my exposed skin with her eyes, searching for injuries. When they settled on the superficial cut that ran across my neck her expression dropped, her brows furrowing. She traced it with her finger and she opened her mouth slightly, her eyes fluttering closed.

I felt the wound begin to tingle and I knew without seeing it that the cut that had once circled my neck was gone. Since Cordelia had become the Supreme there was no lid to contain her jaw of powers. If she could imagine it, it happened. She looked up at me once more and I gazed back at her as I spoke.

"If it wouldn't have been for Queenie feeling someone was wrong and coming to look for me, the slice would have a crimson stump." I shivered at the thought. "She made sure he died in the exact way he had been ordered to kill me. She had brought a knife from the bar with her and she slit her own throat but instead of her own blood flowing it was his." I had heard about what Queenie could do but I had never experienced it with my own eyes and as satisfying as it had been too see the hunter bleed out from wounds she inflicted on herself, I had never had a strong stomach. After I puked my guts out we jumped in a taxi and left, the crime scene being noticed by none of the drunk crowd that litters the street.

"I'm so grateful she was there," Cordelia whispered, pressing her forehead against mine. After a moment and intimate kiss, Cordelia had laid me down on the lush couch beneath us and had lowered herself down as well so that I was cuddled between the back of the couch and her. Her body protecting me from the world. The towel still covered me and as we laid there, her fingers caressed my face and slowly ran through my tangly hair. The heat from the fire was reaching us easily and the warmth from it, plus the warmth radiating from her body, left me warm and dry a few hours later.

As my eyes struggled to stay open, sleep trying to seduce them, Cordelia kissed me slow and gently, pulling back slightly so she could look into my dazed eyes.

"I couldn't be Supreme without you by my side." She whispered sweetly, her voice relaxing any tense muscles in me that had held on.

"Your my right-hand woman," Cordelia said with a smile. I couldn't help but shoot her a toothy grin as I came up with something better in my head.

"I'm your right-hand witch," I stated with a giggle. Cordelia rolled her eyes at me, scoffing but no matter how hard she had tried to hold a smile back she couldn't and she chuckled softly, and a gorgeous smile spread across her now calm face.

"Right-hand witch. I can't believe no one has thought of that" She said in a hushed voice. Cordelia Goode plastered me with gentle kisses all over my neck, chest, forehead and then finally my lips.

That night I drifted off to dreamland snuggled into Cordelia, the floral scent from her hair filling my nose as I buried it in her warm chest. Safe and loved, right where I knew I needed to be and no dream that night, or any night, in fact, would ever be as sweet as the life I would wake up to tomorrow.

To the women who loved me.

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[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Twelve: The One With the Coffee

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3073

Lily Briar Osborne. The girl that would lay her life down on the line for anyone who even showed her the slightest of affection. Or even just said hi to her on the subway or something. She would never hurt a fly. Never raise her voice or become angry. Even when parents grew upset with a diagnosis Lily had given to their child. But when it came to her son, her boy, the earth she, the sun, revolved around. That's when she would cut someone. She would go to war for Hunter, and everybody who knew Lily understood this. And they all knew never to cross her when it surrounded her only child.

She would even dare to take on the challenge of a six-foot-four, 220 pounds, man, made out of strictly muscle. Lily Osborne. The five-foot-five, 128 pounds, meek, and frail doctor would throw down in an apartment building parking lot almost an entire foot taller than her if it meant protecting her son from his reckless tendencies for the rest of his (hopefully) long-lived life. The surge of strength that ran through her veins rivalled the primal levels that a woman can feel while experiencing childbirth. For it has been scientifically proven that the mama bear instinct is indeed a real thing women experience, their child or not. It is wired in a woman's DNA to place their own life at risk or face an unspeakable force if it meant protecting a child. Especially when that said person is a mother, it heightens that instinct.

So the sheer thought of Scott putting their child, and Mary's, in danger, was enough to make Lily a new woman. One with no reservations or any sort of anxiety holding her back. She wished to inflict the pain he made her feel on to him. Make him experience the heartache that he had caused her for over ten years. Together or not. The heartbreak he inflicted on her. The feeling of abandonment that Hunter experienced at such a young age. And it all came to a head because he had decided to make the brilliant choice of leaving his children home with a deadbeat babysitter. And all she wanted was to strangle the life out of him.

But that would create more problems than it would solve, wouldn't it?

"What do you mean I'm done being a father? He is my son Lily," Scott grumbled, his voice dropping a few octaves in an attempt to create a more domineering presence.

"He is more Gen's child than he will ever be yours. The divorce gave you a second chance to be better. And you blew it. Again," the blonde snapped, stepping back and draping her arm across her son's frail shoulders, "Tell Mary to call me if she needs any divorce tips."

With the final dig served, Lily lead her son and the others back towards her car, where everybody piled in. But before the doors shut. One voice, one powerful and overprotective voice spoke out, "See you in court, jackass." Rose's voice called from the driver’s seat before Gen slammed the door and everybody was locked inside of the car.

-----

After dropping Gen and Rose off at Gen's apartment building, Bucky took over the wheel after Lily inputted the GPS. Seeing as he was the only sober one since Rose left...being a supersoldier and all. Lily sat in the backseat of her car, gripping her son close to her chest as the car revved along the empty streets of now suburban New York. Gentle music played in the background as Lily listened to the soft breathing emitting from Hunter's lips. The boy had dozed off not too long ago, and let’s face it, the boy deserved to have some shut-eye. He had just gone through something that would stick with him through all of his years. But one thing kept sticking inside of Lily's mind as if stuck on repeat.

Why was the guy calling out Scott's name while banging on the door?

"Want me to carry him in?" Bucky's soothing voice cooed, snapping Lily out of her thoughts. Without realizing it, they had arrived back at the quaint-style house that she and Hunter called home. Her hand halted from stroking the blonde hair atop of her son’s head and gave the man upfront a gentle smile.

"Oh, that's okay. I've carried him from the car a few times," Lily smiled while popping open the car door and scooping her son into her arms. She let out a quiet grunt as she stepped from the car, forgetting that he was still a growing boy. Seeing as he was turning 12 soon...Lily almost became tearful at the thought of him growing up. Clearing her throat, she nodded to the keys in Buckys hand, "Unlock the door for me would you?"

Complying, the three passed the threshold, coming face to face with a sleeping Joey at the front door. Lily smiled gently and stepped over the large dog that continued snoring on as she walked Hunter up to his room, tucking him in under the blue Captain America comforter she had gotten him for Christmas last year. Flicking on the Thor nightlight that sat on Hunter's bedside table, Lily placed a kiss on his forehead before shutting the white door behind her. She slid into her own bedroom to step out of her dress and pulled on pyjamas, scrubbing the makeup off of her face and letting her hair down. When she exited her room, her eyes spotted the kitchen light on, the blonde walked down the wooden stairs, feet tapping gently. Her green eyes laid on Bucky, looking at the framed pictures of the little mismatched group that Lily called her family.

Pictures of Lily, her brother, and her sister as kids. Lily a ripe 14 years old, Rose standing at a solid seven, and Cedar still being a young three-year-old. His eyes flickering across to one of Lily and Hunter in front of Stark tower When the young boy was only eight. Or Lily, Rose, and Gen sharing glasses of champagne at her bachelorette party all of those years ago. One of Lily's personal favourites though was her graduation photo. A bright smile plastered on her face as she held her diploma in her hands. But the one that Bucky couldn't seem to take his eyes off of is one of Lily's least favourites.

The first time that Lily held Hunter in her arms. Her hair stuck to her forehead from the sweat of childbirth. It had been 27-hour labour, and Lily's face stayed puffy and red as she held the freshly swaddled and cleaned baby in her gentle arms. Tears rolled down her cheeks as the baby halted his screaming the moment his mother’s heartbeat began to radiate in his ears. The god-awful hospital light beat down on Lily's face, creating a fluorescent glow around her already beaming facial expression. Everything inside of her wanted to toss the photo off of the picture table and keep it for her eyes only. But her mother loved the photo and managed to convince her ever-so-insecure daughter to leave it. Alicia Osborne had said it showed genuine happiness from her daughter and created a new light. It was raw and real. And that's what everyone loved about it.

Especially Mr. Barnes.

"Twenty-seven hours later..." Lily sighed gently as she leaned on the banister, "I wanted to get a c-section but looking back at it I'm glad I didn't...but the pain is still a haunting memory." The blonde commented, eyes scanning over the pictures herself.

In each picture that was taken without Lily's knowledge, her smile was bright. A warm glow lit up any room that she managed to find herself in. It was an infectious thing, the doctor’s smile. It radiated kindness and sincerity. A certain type of authenticity that seemed to be a gift that was few and far between. Everybody had become too hostile and aggressive with one another, but that one diamond always seemed to be found in a group of coal. And that's how the majority of people in her life viewed Lily. She was the one tomato that would grow on the plant when you first started gardening. The rose that stuck out brighter than the rest. And even though she tried so hard to blend in and run with the crowd, Lily's energy, or aura as Gen would say, was too charming for anybody to ignore. Much to the eldest Osborne's dismay.

"You look beautiful," Bucky began, hand resting on the side of the silver frame and lifting up the photograph, getting a closer look at all of the small details. The way the tears made her eyes light up like green Christmas lights. or how they seemed to be made of stained glass. How he could see all of the similarities between Hunter and Lily, even when he was just born. The curve of their noses, the twinkle of love in their eyes. A bit of Bucky's heart broke at the domesticity of it all. Sure he was a playboy back in the ‘40s, but he had dreamed of a family one day. A small home and a dog. A beautiful wife beside him and a son and a daughter, similar to the life that Lily leads now. but he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to find that, "Just...naturally."

Placing the sentimental picture back down, Bucky raised his ice-blue eyes to look at the woman that stood on the stairs. Her golden hair tousled, laying perfectly messy across her shoulders. The pale skin of her cheekbones that were naturally coloured a bit red. How Lily's face was so naturally beautiful, even with the faint acne scars on her cheek, the blemishes across her forehead and chin (no doubt from her work). The deepness of her under-eye that was permanently stained a purple hue from countless late shifts and sleepless nights. The way her eyes fluttered open and closed as she attempted to keep herself awake and coherent after the hectic night that she had just suffered through.

"Thank you. I didn't feel very beautiful at that moment though. Just a lot of emotions going through my mind." she chuckled sleepily, barefoot landing on the cool hardwood of the main floor of her two-story home. Lily stepped forward, past the supersoldier as she herself lifted the picture from his hand to look at herself and her son. But who was missing from the picture? You guessed it. Scott, "You're probably wondering where the father of my son is in this picture," Lily commented, tears welling up on her waterline, "Supposedly stuck at work. But I learned later that wasn't the case."

Dropping the framed photo back onto her small table collection, Lily kept her eyes down on the floor. She had grown ashamed (?) of her past relationship. How he had so obviously been walking all over her like she was a rug. And instead of standing up for herself and confronting the son of a bitch, she took it. For seven years, Lily took the pain and emotional trauma that Scott had inflicted upon her heart and mind. All because she hadn't had the strength or the courage to stand up for herself. To know her own worth and realize that she was Lily Osborne. One of the top pediatricians in new york. Single mother of an eleven-year-old boy. The woman who graduated top of her class, all while raising a child alone in New York. The girl who came out on the other side of an emotionally abusive and draining relationship alive and intact. She was Lily fucking Osborne. And she had allowed a deadbeat, no good, son of a bitch, to use and manipulate her like a pawn in his game.

And she was ashamed of it.

"And who's this big guy." Bucky's smooth voice cooed, once again, reeling Lily in from the dark corners of her mind. Lily glanced over her shoulder to see Bucky delicately stroking Joey's ears. The dog had a stupid grin on his face, just enjoying the attention from the new person his mom had decided to bring into her home.

"That's joey. The other boy in my life." Lily smiled, eyes creasing as she admired the way Bucky interacted with her dog. Though not much of a guard, clearly, Joey was an excellent judge of character. Lily had learned this when she once brought home a nurse friend and Joey lost his ever-loving mind. It was later revealed that that nurse was stealing money out of Lily's wallet. And really, ever since that moment, Lily trusted Joey's reaction to people she brought home.

And by the looks of it, the German Shepherd had a new favourite friend. Lily's heart swelled at the sight that had taken place in front of her. The soft touches Bucky made with his left hand. The metal one. It seemed as though Bucky was nervous he would scare Joey, or worse, cause harm. But to Lily, it was one of the most endearing things she had seen him do in the entirety of their friendship? If that's even what it was. The two weren't romantically involved, they weren't close friends. They were more so acquaintances. Of course, Lily was attracted to Bucky, he looked like he had been sculpted by the Greek gods. Not to mention, he was a kind soul. He was sweet and caring. And the way he acted for Hunter and the way that he treated Joey was evident of that.

"Uh, do you want some coffee?" Lily asked, scratching her cheeks with her nails, shifting her weight before walking off towards the white and grey-styled kitchen with navy blue accents. Her thin hand dripped the dark kettle and filled it with water before placing it back onto the boiling device. Her deep-set eyes glanced over her shoulder to see Bucky once again admiring the pictures placed aesthetically on a brown stained wood table, "Bucky?"

"Hm? Oh, sure. thank you." his voice echoed. It was a deep vibrato tone that sent a shiver down Lily's spine. It was a voice that Lily would love to hear in the mornings. One that she could only imagine would continue to drop a few octaves. Small grunts as he stretched after waking from a deep slumber. cradling Lily tight in his arms as Joey snored soundly at the end of their bed with the light shining through the sheer white curtains.

The feeling of his calloused flesh hand and the contrast of his cold metal hand sliding along her pale and supple side in the morning. Slightly chapped and swollen lips kissing her forehead as her soft breathing radiated against his chest. Whatever it was about Bucky, it had an everlasting effect on Lily. It kept her heart beating rapidly and her face growing a deep shade of red that matched the natural rosacea of her cheeks. She longed for the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around her thin waist as he pressed gentle and generous kisses to her cheek and down her neck, creating goosebumps on her skin.

Lily pulled out her coffee grounds from the cupboard and perked up when she heard the soft footsteps of Bucky's shoes tapping against her floors. After the kettle screamed at her, Lily poured two cups and took out the cream and sugar from her fridge and baking cupboard. Turning around, she came face to face with that same broad chest that she did all those weeks ago. A small gasp escaped her lips as the coffee sloshed inside of the navy blue mugs she held in each hand as she bit her lip.

"I take two sugar," he stated, cool eyes looking down at the girl as she attempted to avoid any contact between them. When she moved left, he thought to do the same. When she went to duck around his right side, he accidentally blocked her path. It was an uncoordinated, unplanned tango that neither one of them knew how to end. Well, that's what Lily thought at least.

His large hands reached forward and grabbed the mugs from Lily's. The supersoldier placed them on the counter island behind him before returning his attention to the much smaller blonde girl in front of him. Without thinking, he placed both hands with no hesitation on either side of her face. Her breathing came to a halt as he leaned forward and planted a deep and passionate kiss on her flower soft lips. His human hand threading into the hair that hung on the left side of her face, the golden tresses tangling into his fingers. Her own eyes fluttered closed as she returned the pressure that he had initiated onto her lips. Lily's arms slid around the man’s neck as she took a hesitant step forward, closing the small gap that kept them apart.

And after what Lily believed to be hours, the two broke away, lungs gasping for air. Lily's face exploded into a fit of red as she stared into the same eyes that always seemed to make her feel like she had a place in the world. Even if she had only seen or even been around him a handful of times, Bucky Barnes made Lily feel like she was the most special girl in the world, just by maintaining (or attempting) eye contact with her through those steel-blue eyes of his. The same eyes that used to be hidden by a mask and glasses because it was too dangerous for anyone to see his face. The same eyes that had seen the horrors of the world. The ones that watched men and women die at his hands.

"Your room is on the left when you go upstairs."

And with that, Lily darted out of his grip and up the wooden stairs with her heart pounding in her chest so loud she wouldn't be surprised if he could hear it. It played a dangerous rhythm in her ears as she shut her own bedroom door and fell back onto the plush pillows and blankets that laid decoratively on her bed. Lily's calloused hands slapped her forehead before sliding down to cover her entire face. The moment replayed in her head 1000 times over.

He kissed her. And she liked it.

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