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archonanqi · 3 years

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fragile as dust / 8 - the eleventh

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ch 8 | the eleventh

The rest of the day you spend running your fingers across the rows and rows of bound leather, taking inventory of all the words and knowledge and stories that were now at your fingertips — scurrying between the library and your room, arms full of books that caught your eye.

Zhongli watched you from his seat in the living room each time you passed, offering comments on various books that you had picked out. He seemed especially amused each time you ran past with a book regaling a legend of the Lord of Geo, though you couldn’t think of a reason why. By the time the sun had set, every surface of your room had been touched by a book or two.

You couldn’t wait to get started, already knew which ones you wanted to read first — there was one that promised the thrilling tale of Rex Lapis’ fight against the Beast of Nian that you were itching to devour. But before anything else, there was something you had to do, something you’d been planning as soon as you’d seen the “The Fine Art of Liyue Cuisine” title on the bookshelves.

Zhongli had been kind — beyond that, really — about your situation, but you hadn’t forgotten that you were meant to be here for his convenience. You had done nothing but cause him trouble so far, and it was your duty to make up for the expenses you’d cost him.

(Though really, and though you would never admit it, you couldn’t deny that on some very faint level, you wanted to hear praise, your name, anything come out in that rich, deep voice of his.)

So the next time Zhongli took his walk at Yujing Terrace, you reluctantly and politely declined his invitation. Minutes after his departure, you snuck out of the door, running as fast as you could towards the northern harbor. The recipe for the pen’cai stew had called for fish, but, as you grabbed handfuls of squid from the nearest unattended stall, you decided that seafood would have to do. Seafood was something that refined nobles like Zhongli ate, after all.

The tentacles felt disgusting in your pocket the entire way home, but it was fine. You could bear it for Zhongli. You couldn’t wait to imagine his surprise and delight.

Still, how odd that of all the ingredients, seafood was the only one you couldn’t find in Zhongli’s well-stocked refrigerator!

When you got home, you breathed a sigh of relief that Zhongli had not come home yet; you didn’t know what you would have said if he had caught you with a pocket full of squid. After changing, you cracked the recipe book open, staring at it. You’d chosen this recipe because its description had stated “ no refinement is needed for this dish ”, but still, some of these terms flew right over your head. What the fuck was a “julienne”?

Zhongli had used the stove several times, mostly to heat up leftovers from the abysmal amount of food he frequently bought, and it hadn’t seemed too hard at all for him. You would learn, just as you always did.

---

By the time Zhongli returned home, smoke was still billowing from the windows.

---

It was all a bit of a haze for you. The oil had started producing bright sparks (in your defense, how were you supposed to make sense of “ Heat Oil Until Hot ”??), and you knew enough about cooking at least to know that that wasn’t good.

You also thought you knew enough about cooking to know that embers had to be put out by water. The resulting bang had sent you rolling to the floor, and when you’d gotten back up, the curtains by the stove were ablaze

When Zhongli found you, you were frozen in fear — you had backup plans for if the food burnt, but this… this went a little past that.

From behind you, you heard a loud whoosh, felt the force of the earth knock into you. The room became enveloped briefly in a golden glow, and as you watched, the fire faded into embers, then smoke. A single glowing, red gem clattered to the ground, before dissipating with a loud hiss.

“H-how?” Was the first word out of your lips.

“When Geo reacts with—“ Zhongli shook his head, cutting his explanation short for the first time you’d heard, “never mind that. Are you alright? Can you move?”

You let him lead you outside, numbly, silently. Finally, out in the fresh morning air, he peered down at you. You searched his face for anger, but found only mild curiosity. “Now,” Zhongli said, sitting on the grass by your side, ”would you like to tell me what happened in there?”

The weight of what you’d done hit you like an angry boar. Treacherous tears gathering behind your eyes, you whispered “I’m so sorry,” barely able to get the apologies out fast enough. “I— I thought I would surprise you with breakfast, but— but the oil and the water...“ You trailed off when he raised his hand to cover his mouth — out of anger? No, there was a smile on his face. A smile!

“My my,” he mused, the smallest of smiles playing on his face. “Truly, you are a child of Liyue. Always trying new things, rushing in headstrong.” Zhongli shook his head wistfully. “It reminds me of myself, many years ago.”

“You?” You asked in disbelief, feeling your eyes widen. You hadn’t once seen him with so much a button out of place on his intricate coat; weren’t convinced he hadn’t come out of the womb drinking pu’er tea and writing poetry. “ You’ve set things on fire before, Mr. Zhongli?”

“More times than I can count,” his smile widened, and you felt like you had learned a secret of the Gods themselves. “But as I learned, so must you: you can always ask for help, Hansi.”

Suddenly, it didn’t feel like he was talking about cooking anymore. As always, his words were so slow, so deliberate that you scoured them for a hidden meaning. If you didn’t know better, you would be deathly sure that he knew of your difficulties with the Vision. And right now, sitting on the grass next to you after you had almost burned down his home, Zhongli had never felt more approachable. Maybe you could tell him, after all.

Starting a fire was one thing , you chided yourself. Lying about possessing the power of one of the Seven Archons is another.

“I will keep that in mind, Mr. Zhongli.” You said, instead, bowing your head a little. “Thank you for… not being mad.”

“It is I who should be thanking you for your thoughtfulness. And what is it that you were trying to cook for me, my dear?”

You almost jumped at that, feeling warm color blossoming within your cheeks. He probably called everyone that — he was so traditional, after all. “Seafood stew, Mr. Zhongli.”

Finally, to your utter confusion, Zhongli’s smile bloomed into a rich laugh. “Then I’m very sorry I missed it,” he chuckled. “Are culinary skills something you would like to learn, Hansi?”

“Yes,” you said, frustration and indignance culminating into determination. There wasn’t one thing you hadn’t been able to learn when you’d put your heart to it — reading, stealing, surviving. Well, except... “Please, teach me.”

“You deserve a far better teacher than I,” Zhongli said, standing up and dusting his coat off, before offering you his hand. “Let’s pay Wanmin Restaurant a visit, shall we?” Then, wrinkling his nose, “though perhaps... After we rid the house of any more fire hazards.”

---

At the counter of Wanmin Restaurant was a man you had never seen before, though his resemblance to Xiangling was striking. He perked up immediately upon seeing you and Zhongli approach.

“Mr. Zhongli!” He waved frantically. “Thank you for the medicine! My knee feels better already.”

“I’m glad, Chef Mao. I’ve heard that Bubu Pharmacy’s herbal cures are nothing short of divine miracles,” Zhongli said. “Though I hear from Xiangling that you’ve been gathering herbs near Jueyun Karst? You must know that it is extremely dangerous for humans to enter.”

“Of course, of course!” Chef Mao laughed good-naturedly. “You don’t have to warn me twice. I make sure to give that place a good berth — I don’t have enough lives to go around meeting any Adepti. Now, what brings you here today? Xiangling or I will cook anything you’re in the mood for.”

Zhongli shook his head gently. “I’ll have to take you up on that offer some other time. Today, I was hoping to ask Xiangling for some culinary tutelage. This young lady here is looking to learn how to cook.”

“Oh!” Chef Mao peered at you, as though he had just noticed you. Of course, it hadn’t helped that you were trying to hide behind Zhongli the whole time. He turned around and yelled into the kitchen, “XIANGLING! COME HERE, MR. ZHONGLI AND HIS—“

A pause, as he glanced between you and Zhongli, trying to ascertain your relationship.

“Friend,” Zhongli supplied. You hated that your heart skipped a beat.

“—FRIEND ARE HERE TO SEE YOU!”

Almost immediately, Xiangling’s head popped out from behind the window, waving and beaming dazzlingly. As Zhongli explained the situation to her, you once again wondered where she was storing her endless cheer. Perhaps in her hairbuns.

“I hope that it is not too much trouble,” Zhongli concluded, crossing his arms over his chest and stepping aside. You wanted to scream at the thought that he knew you’d been trying to hide behind him.

“Nonsense!” Chef Mao slapped his hands together, and you were beginning to see where Xiangling got her enthusiasm from. “If not for you getting Wanmin Restaurant this spot on Chihu Rock, why, Rex Lapis would never have found us and written such flattering poetry about our food. Then where would we be? No favor is too big for you, my friend, let alone something so trivial as this.”

You glanced up at Zhongli, but his expression did not change. Just exactly how much influence did Zhongli have over the city?

Just who was he?

“Would Miss Hansi want to work as my apprentice for a few weeks?” Xiangling asked, thoughtfully. “With the winter coming up soon, we’re going to need a lot of ingredients, so I could use an extra hand. We can’t pay very much, maybe 1,000 Mora a week, but I’ll keep you nice and full, I promise!”

A thousand Mora — that was more than you had ever had at once in your life. You jumped to say yes, but stopped yourself just in time. It wasn’t up to you. For all Zhongli’s benevolence, what nobleman would want a servant (is that what you even were?) that they'd paid for gone all day?

You looked to Zhongli for his answer. And when he only waited patiently, you prompted, “may I accept this offer, Mr. Zhongli?”

“You are free to do as you please, Hansi.” Zhongli said, and the surprise didn’t sting as much as it used to. “I think it would be a great opportunity.”

You had never been more sure of the following “yes!” that you almost shouted at Xiangling.

Chef Mao laughed. “We’ll see how much of that enthusiasm you can keep when Xiangling starts working you to the bone!” He waved at Zhongli. “Xiangling and I will show her around the restaurant. You should get back to your work, Mr. Zhongli — you must be a very busy man.”

Zhongli raised a brow, but did not comment further. “Will you be able to find your way back home, Hansi?”

After getting your affirmation, Zhongli nodded and walked away. You would have watched him leave, if you could, studying every detail on the back of his coat — but Xiangling grabbed your hand.

“Come on!” She was almost vibrating from excitement, and you couldn’t help but match her grin with your own. “There’s SO much I need to show you!”

---

By the time Xiangling released you from your duties for the day (and you had learned more words than you thought existed), the city had grown dark.

It had been so exciting, the prospect of having a real, actual job that you didn’t have much else on your mind. And so your first mistake, you realized too late, was trying to find the same shortcuts that Zhongli had used to get home. The alleyways at night were strangers to you — and there was good reason for it.

You thought it was your imagination at first, but it became more apparent with every crawling second: there was another pair of footsteps that echoed each of your own. You quickened your pace, noticing the echo match yours almost perfectly. As you turned down deeper between the buildings, you forced your foot to stop halfway to the ground.

The echoing footstep clacked against the cobblestone.

There was a flurry of movement behind you, your pursuer realizing that their cover had been blown. The figure lunged at you, and you ducked at the last second— you were used to bigger men throwing their bodies at you, had long since learned how to use their weight against them. With all your strength, you aimed a kick at the man’s groin—

Only for him to catch your ankle with one of his gloved hands, yanking you off your feet, and throwing you against the wall. The impact knocks all the air from your lungs. You scrambled to get back to your feet, coughing. Instinctively, you reached for your chest, where your Vision once was. It wasn’t there. Of course. And even if it was, what good would it be?

“Feisty,” the man remarked, leaning in to peer at you. In the dim moonlight, you could see a strange red mask hanging his cheek, stark against his auburn hair. At his hip, a Vision glowed royal blue, with a frame that you had never seen before. “What on Teyvat has Zhongli gotten himself into?”

---

“Who are you?” You snapped. The man kept his careful distance from you, but you were sure that he would be able to catch you in seconds if you ran. The way he had moved to meet your blow was practiced, skilled, even. It seemed that you had misjudged his intentions — he was not some drunken man seeking pleasure. “Are you from Bawang ?”

“Ba—what?” The man shook his head, clutching his heart in a dramatic show of dismay. “I’m hurt. Didn’t Mr. Zhongli not tell you about me? Not even a passing mention?”

Eyeing him carefully, you racked your brains. Was he a friend of Zhongli’s? Surely no associate of Zhongli would corner you in an alley at night and push you over... Right? You were realizing how little (absolutely nothing, to be exact), you knew about Zhongli’s life.

“Was the ‘who are you?’ not enough of a clue?”

The man grinned wickedly in the night, eyes glinting at your mockery. “What a tongue you have on you. Didn’t know that was Zhongli’s type.” He offered his hand to you. “I’m Tartaglia, codename Childe. Pleased to meet you.”

You stared at his hand like you would a can of live worms. “The one from the Fatui.”

The message received, he let his hand fall back to his side. “So he has talked about me. And here I was, thinking that he saw me as just a puppet.” He mused. You had no clue what he was talking about, but it was immediately clear that the man was dangerous.

“Are you here to collect his debt? I don’t have any money.”

“Debt?” Tartaglia laughed. “No, there’s no debt . Mr. Zhongli has unlimited access to the Northland Bank’s funds. Yeah,” he clarified, mistaking your shock for confusion. “Turns out, you need to read the fine print when it comes to making deals with the guy.”

“Then what do you want from me?”

“Oh, come now,” he raised his palms in a placating manner, “don’t be so harsh. I’m only here to investigate. Zhongli has been buying enough food for a small army, and while it’s not entirely unusual of him, he also made a large payment to a certain company... that let’s just say even the Fatui won’t touch with a six-foot pole.” Tartaglia swept his glance over you from head to toe. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

You stayed silent, wishing to the Archons that looks could kill.

“I don’t know why he… acquired you, but believe me, he’s always got some kind of plan going on in that head of his.” Tartaglia sighed. “Anyway, where’s your Vision?

You stiffened. “Vision?” You scoffed. The false disbelief came easily, naturally. “You think the Archons would give someone so pathetic a Vision?”

“You can cut the crap. I saw the way you reached for it there. I’ve seen that look way too many times. Vision-holders who get too dependent, who think that having one makes them invincible.” Tartaglia’s lip curled. “A Vision wouldn’t have saved you from me, girlie. But someone as weak as you should at least be carrying it around.”

Every moment of the day, you thought of it, of how all your problems would be solved if — when — you mastered the power of the Archons. The thought that it wouldn’t, that knowing how to use a Vision wouldn’t make you invincible to the world, was devastating.

Before you, Tartaglia’s eyes were the color of the ocean during monsoon seasons, deep, roiling, devastating. You couldn’t seem to bring yourself to lie again, so you lowered your head.

“That’s what I thought. What element?”

“Geo,” you said quietly. The only thing you could do here was keep him talking, long enough until you could find a chance to escape. From what you could tell, he didn’t seem to be on too-friendly terms with Zhongli. Perhaps he wouldn’t tell him, after all.

“Of course.” He nodded, as though there was no other answer.

“What do you mean, of course?”

“ What I mean is —“ Tartaglia peered at you, raising a single brow. “Hmm. What does Zhongli think of your Vision?”

You bit your lip to stop from responding. This was dangerous territory. As the seconds dragged on in silence, you watched a glimmer of glee creep into Tartaglia’s eyes. “Oh! Oh my Archon. You haven’t told him!” The Fatui Harbinger threw back his head and laughed with abandon. “Oh, that’s great! This is beautiful!”

You waited a good half minute for Tartaglia to finally wipe all the tears from his cheeks. “Are you done?” You’d been slowly edging towards the exit of the alley, keeping your eyes trained on the Fatui. As long as you could get to Wanmin Restaurant you would be safe... but no. You couldn’t drag Xiangling and Chef Mao into this. You still didn’t understand half the things Tartaglia had said, but you knew that the Fatui’s attention wasn’t something you wanted, no matter who you were.

“Yes, yes,” Tartaglia huffed, fanning himself dramatically.

“What’s so funny?”

“My contract ,” he almost spat the word, “mandates that I stay silent about that one, sorry. But don’t worry, I’ll keep your little secret. I’d love to see the look on your face when... Anyway. I’m here to give you an offer.”

“Next time, try offering over lunch or something,” you didn’t know where you found the courage to snap, “instead of in an alley.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Tartaglia threw his hands up, somewhat apologetically. “It’s been so hard to catch you alone.” Had he been watching you and Zhongli? You grimaced. “But anyway. How would you like… all the Mora you could ever need? Anything you want to buy, eat or wear, yours, just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

“…And what do you want from me?”

“Information,” he replied, “about Zhongli. How to fight him, really, but also anything else he—“

At this point, you were beginning to feel inclined to believe that the man was simply missing half his marbles. Finally feeling like you had put enough distance between him and yourself, you turned and ran — for a whole two seconds, when a strong force yanked you backwards.

“Hey now, hasn’t Mr. Zhongli taught you anything about manners?” He tutted as you flailed in his grip, “I wasn’t done talking— whoa!”

He ducked, barely avoiding a projectile that whizzed past his cheek, so close that you could hear it whistle through the air. You peer at where it landed, firmly embedded into the brick wall.

It was a golden spear that glowed dimly in the light. Its design was immaculate, intricate, beautiful , you thought numbly, as you watched it fade before your eyes.

“Well then,” Tartaglia said tightly, “never mind her manners. It’s not like you to get so worked up, Mr. Zhongli.”

You snapped your head towards the entrance of the alleyway. You’d recognize the silhouette anywhere, but in that moment, with the same spear gripped in his hand and his features edged silver under the moonlight, eyes glowing a ravenous gold, Zhongli looked particularly divine.

“If I were worked up , Childe, I would not have missed,” Zhongli said, twirling the spear once before setting the pole against the cobblestone. The way he moved -- natural, relaxed, as though the polearm seemed like an extension of his body. There was no anger in his voice, but you felt a slight tremor in the ground under your feet and, despite your situation, a jolt of excitement at the thought of seeing Zhongli fight, seeing a Geo Vision in use.

“Oho?” Childe let go of your sleeve, crouching down low as glowing blue energy gathered in his hands. “Sure sounds like you’re asking for a fight. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this!”

Zhongli regarded him coolly for a moment. “Look around you. Is this really where you want to fight me, Childe?” He raised his head, and you and Tartaglia followed his gaze to a window. Behind the glass, you could make out a young girl’s face as she stared wide-eyed down at the scene below.

To your surprise, the Fatui paused. You hadn’t marked him down as the type to worry about collateral damage. Finally, he shifted back into a more relaxed stance, waving his fingers clean of Hydro. “You know me a little too well, Mr. Zhongli,” he smiled, all hostility seemingly forgotten. You may have misjudged his empathy, but you certainly hadn’t imagined his unhinged nature.

“What business do you have with Hansi?” Zhongli asked.

“That’s our little secret. Well, I’ll leave you two to… whatever it is you do.” He winked. “Remember, you still owe me a dinner sometime, Mr. Zhongli.”

“Certainly,” Zhongli said, lowering his hand and letting his spear disintegrate from between his fingers. “Though I must warn you, it will be the Northland Bank bearing the bill.”

“Of course.” Childe chuckled one more time, as though he remembered something funny. “See you around, Hansi.”

---

On the way home, Zhongli was uncharacteristically quiet. As you entered the warmth of his — of your home, you tried to break the silence. “Thank you for saving me, Mr. Zhongli.”

Zhongli stayed quiet for a short while more, staring at you so intently it stung. “Forgive my silence,” he finally said. “When I couldn’t find you at Wanmin, I thought that you had been hurt or… that you had run away.”

Astonished, you didn’t really know what to say. Running away was a thought that had crossed your mind, but each time, the cons far outweighed the pros. You were more than familiar with what awaited you on the streets of Liyue. “I am not so stupid to be ignorant of what would happen to me if I did” There was a pregnant pause. “And besides, I have had no reason to, Mr. Zhongli. You have been more than kind to me.”

Zhongli smiled. Was it just your imagination, or were his meltingly gorgeous smiles coming more and more often? Trying not to let your thoughts wander, you blurted the first thing that came to mind. “That spear was beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he said. “It has served me well.”

“Do you really know how to use it?” There had been no weaponry in the house that you’d seen, but you believed him wholeheartedly.

“I am somewhat versed in its usage, yes.”

“How long did it take you to learn how to fight?” You wondered, sincerely.

“I have always known how to fight, for as long as I can remember.” Suddenly, his weathered hands made sense. With your notions of him growing up as a sheltered, rich noble shattered, you had never been more curious of his past. Had he been part of the Millelith? “Though, I have since come to learn that it was never true strength. Why do you ask, Hansi?”

You hesitated, nervously glancing away. Way to dig yourself a hole. “Just wondering.”

“Hansi, I gave you my word to keep you safe, to the best of my abilities. However, I fear that there may be times when I may not be by your side, such as tonight.” Zhongli seemed to think deeply about his next words. “Remember that if you want to learn how to fight, you just need to ask.”

Tell him , a voice in your mind screamed. Tell him about the damned Vision.

As tempting as it was, you were indeed more than familiar with what awaited you on the streets of Liyue. You would not risk, even remotely, your position in Zhongli’s household.

“Thank you, Mr. Zhongli,” you mustered the warmest smile you could, as you stood up to retreat to your room. “I will keep that in mind.”

“That’s all I ask,” Zhongli exhaled deeply. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

#zhongli #zhongli fanfic #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader #my writing #anqi writes #fragile as dust

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sebstanseabass · 3 years

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Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 8

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER EIGHT

Bucky entered the bar wearing a neat, black expensive suit, a Rolex sticking out of his left sleeve. He unfastened two buttons by his waist and flung both sides of the suit in the air before sitting down on the stool. He rolled up his sleeves, his lean forearms in plain sight under the incandescent lights hanging by the counter.

Your eyes lingered longer than they should have so you shook your head and ignored his gaze, getting back to work.

"Fancy seeing you back here, James." Out of nowhere, a slight giggle came out from your mouth, pushing the tap handle up and briskly pushing Bucky's hand away. Your eyes found his, whilst you waited for the liquid to fill the beer mug. "I'll get back on you later. I have to give this beer to that son of a bitch over there."

You glanced at the man from earlier who was still giving you a death-like stare.

Bucky responded with a short chuckle and waited for you to finish. You opened your mouth to call Nick but decided against it, calling for Nat instead, who was holding a tray of chicken wings. Nat usually only had three shifts a week but since you were understaffed this week, she had the decency to help out.

"By the way, is Peter here?" Bucky asked.

You glanced at Peter's briefcase. "Yes, he came here straight from an urgent work thing. He just needed to go to the toilet."

"Good, good, that's good." He kept nodding his head, staring at absolutely nothing at all.

You waved your hand in front of his face. "Bucky? You okay?"

"Yeah, no, I'm good." He answered but you weren't convinced. He looked at Peter's briefcase and the beer bottle beside it. "Is that Peter's drink?"

The realization dawned on you once those words slipped out of his mouth. You pursed your lips then nodded. "I tried talking him out of it before but he never listened. You know how Peter is. Stubborn as a damn rock."

"That he is."

"Are you going to talk to him about it?"

"I think so, but not now. I think now's not the right time." He replied. "So, how about that drink, doll?" He asked, swiftly changing the subject.

You ignored the shivers starting to slither on your skin when you heard his little nickname for you. You have been called other nicknames in the bar, including doll, but not one had an effect on you.

Except Bucky.

While grabbing a glass on the counter, you continued to stare at him you felt absolutely nothing. "I feel like you're more of an old-fashioned guy." you commented.

Bucky didn't say anything but a smile formed on his pink plump lips as you made him a glass of old-fashioned. Besides, you can never go wrong with the original cocktail.

Once you were finished, he held the glass near his face, his nose hovering above the drink.

"You know, I've had so many old-fashioned. Smells nothing like this." Then, he took a tiny sip, released a puff of breath and clicked his tongue. "But damn, if it isn't the best old-fashioned I ever had."

You suppressed a giggle. Instead, you smirked at him. "You're not the only one who can make a mean drink, Bucky Barnes."

He chuckled and went on to say that his was still better since it was his own drink and not a classic one. You weren't much of the condescending type so you agreed with him. You could never make your own drink; only the ones you've learned from Steve from the past year.

By the time Bucky devoured the whole drink, Peter had arrived. He was so loud that everyone in the bar turned their heads towards Peter who practically jumped on Bucky from a feet from where he was standing.

"Parker, keep it the fuck down." You scolded Peter like how a mother scolds a child. But with the curses.

Peter gave you an apologetic look as he sat down on the high stool. "Oh, wait, guess who came by the office today," before he could even let you guess, he jumped straight to the answer, "Wanda."

Your actions stopped the moment you heard Wanda's name but moved on eventually. You ignored Peter's eyes while you wiped the counter table, even though it was already squeaky clean. "Maximoff?"

"Yes, Wanda Maximoff! Our team got her as the head photographer for the clothing line account we landed on." He stated.

"Who's Wanda?" Bucky interrupted, curious about the whole thing.

"She's this friend of y/n's who used to tag along with her almost everyday in NYU." Peter replied. "She's also a photographer."

Peter went on about the whole clothing line account for a few minutes. It was mostly about how he and his team landed a "cool photographer" like Wanda. Sunday was the only time Wanda was free so they took an opportunity to talk to her.

Must be nice to be so busy all the damn time.

Peter proceeded to talk so highly of her and all the work she'd done in just a shy of a year in the industry. If you remembered correctly, the only time Peter and Wanda ever spoke to one another was when Wanda came to borrow something of yours and asked Peter if you were home. Now, he talked about her as if he'd known her for years.

Your eyes lazily wandered to the photographs you've shown Bucky this morning on the wall. Suddenly, it was eerily silent inside your head. No jukebox noise, no television noise, no rowdy noise; nothing.

It had been three years and you haven't accomplished anything that could fill your heart's content. No photos in magazines, not even on the damn streets. They were just here on the bar, camouflaged among the walls.

When your eyes found Peter and Bucky's, Peter had just finished his little story with Wanda starting to work with them for the next few weeks. "This is the biggest account my team has ever gotten. I am so excited!"

"I'm glad everything has been working out for you, Peter." Bucky placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, patting him.

"I just want to be like you, Buck."

Bucky glanced at you for a second. He let go of Peter's shoulder. He didn't respond to him. He just offered Peter a smile.

The two talked the whole night while you were pulled in every direction as more people came. You were making drinks left and right. The people by the counter had their eyes set on somewhere else. The television right above the counter. The billiards table. The jukebox. People dancing by the jukebox. Good-looking ladies being jeered at by single men, and vice-versa.

But only a pair of eyes was watching you move around: Bucky's.

You had caught him staring quite a few times the whole four hours you were working at the bar even though he was conversing with Peter. The whole time making and handing drinks to people, you kept thinking if Peter and Bucky were talking about you. Usually, you would eavesdrop in other people's conversations — of course, these were strangers. You didn't think you could do that to both Peter and Bucky. You shut your ears whenever you'd come near them but it wasn't as if they could be heard, anyway. You could barely hear the conversation with the television on, the jukebox playing and all the people buzzing in the bar — but you did catch some words like "Stark", "White Wolf", "home", and some country names.

All of a sudden, you stopped obsessing on the subject of their conversation. Your mind was then wrapped around with thoughts on Wanda and how, in just one year, she had already accomplished so much in her career whilst you were still here, juggling two jobs. You weren't the jealous type but the more you thought about it, the more those ugly feelings grew. Your photos on the damn walls were not much of a help. They just reminded you that you were a failure, that this was what you get for being a mediocre photographer and for settling for a menial job.

But you had to do what you needed to do in order to survive in this cruel world.

You did try and apply for some big advertising and business companies while working in the bar but luck was never on your side. There were always better ones, or ones who had connections. The latter one was just one of the many reasons why you hated big corporations.

"Who's the rich guy?" Whisking you from your train of thoughts was Nat. She was holding a tray full of canned beers and some fries, and caught up with you.

You walked towards the booth together.

"That's Bucky. Peter's stepbrother." You and Nat gave the food and beverage to the people in the booth.

"He'd been eyeing you for the past few hours." She hugged her tray on her chest as you walked back to the counter. "And you know what I think, y/n?"

"Nat — "

"He wants a piece of you."

You and Nat weren't as close as people would think you were. You only hung out in the workplace. And by hang out, you meant talking (even gossiping) while working.

"Please, he's so much older than me."

"That's what makes it hotter, dumbass."

"When was it ever hot?"

"Duh, those lingering stares he'd been giving you." She raised an eyebrow, stopping at the edge of the counter. "I'm telling you, he wants you."

"He's Peter's stepbrother, Nat. It's inappropriate!"

"It's not like he's his biological brother. And besides, I think it's..." She leaned in and whispered. "Thrilling."

You rolled your eyes. "And I think you're delusional."

"Think whatever you want to think." Nat chuckled. "But the facts are right there. He wants to get a taste of you, and you of him. Ciao, bitch."

And with that, she spun around, her red hair lost in the sea of strangers.

By the time your shift was ending, you removed the apron and hung it on the coat rack near Steve's office at the back. Your instinct was to go to Steve's office and let him know that your shift was over but you just remembered that he was in Rhode Island with his family. You lost the grip on the knob then went back to the counter and tapped Peter's shoulder, interrupting his conversation with Bucky.

"Already?" Peter asked in disbelief. "Wow, it's true what they say. Time flies by when people are catching up."

You squinted your eyes at him. "I literally have never heard someone say that, Parker."

"Really, never?"

"Never." You replied, opening the passthrough. "Now, let's go."

"Wait," Peter said, "I have to go to the toilet real quick."

"Our apartment is right above this bar. You can just go there."

"Sorry, y/n. This can't wait." He sped towards the toilet, practically flying. You sighed and took his seat, facing Bucky.

"Hey, doll." He said in a voice that could make any woman swoon and fall on the floor. Bucky's voice was raspier than you remembered, breath with a hint of whiskey mixed with beer. "Haven't spoken to you in a while."

"Sunday nights can be busy as well."

"So, I've seen." He hummed. "This is your everyday life, huh?"

"Except Mondays. We're closed on Mondays. And except when I have some photography gig." You replied then whispered the next part: "Which I haven't been getting lately."

"Isn't Sunday," he laughed, "supposed to be a rest day?"

"In our bible, it's Monday."

Before Bucky could even speak, Peter came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. "If you just accepted that job offer at our company, we would've been working together, y/n."

You playfully shrugged him off. "You were thinking about that while peeing? Weirdo. Plus, Wanda has a lot more experience than I have."

"But — "

"Come on, let's go. You're drunk." You lifted off his arm and turned towards Bucky. "You take him. He's a bit hard to handle when he's this drunk."

Bucky walked ahead, guiding Peter towards the door. Before you could even follow the two, Nat patted your shoulder. You spun around, meeting her suggestive eyes. Without even a second thought, she pulled your tight v-top even lower and spilled some drink on your exposed cleavage.

"Nat, what the damn hell!" You hissed.

"Trust me on this, babe." She scrunched up her nose. "Go get some rich dick." She twirled your body so easily then slapped your ass. You wanted to shout at Nat but you didn't want to cause a scene in the bar and the moment had already passed as she disappeared amongst the crowd once again.

You caught up towards Bucky and Peter, opening the door for them.

The walk towards the apartment unit was tedious and was accompanied by Peter's hilarious commentaries about every little thing he saw on the way. As Bucky's arm was getting sore, you helped lift Peter up as the elevator doors closed behind you.

You felt Bucky's eyes on you as you lifted Peter's right arm, slinging it across your shoulders. You came face to face with Bucky, his eyes somewhere underneath your neck. You cleared my throat to get his attention.

"Uh," he stammered, "you got some alcohol on your... uh..."

"Oh, yeah. Don't mind that. Some idiot spilled on me." Nat really was some idiot.

A genius idiot.

Peter immediately hugged his pillow once we placed him on his bed. You leaned in and kissed his forehead good night. "I hope you have a heavy hangover tomorrow, Parker."

You turned around only to be blocked by Bucky's towering figure. "Sorry." You mumbled, looking down on your feet.

"It's alright, doll." He replied, making some space for you to walk on.

You headed towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water and Bucky followed suit, tossing his suit jacket on the couch as if he was living in your place.

"You should go get changed." He spoke.

You rolled your eyes, finishing up your water.

"Okay, daddy." Of course, you meant it as a joke as it sounded so much funnier in your head — not so much said out loud.

Bucky's eyes lit up with curiosity, walking towards you. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." You replied quickly. "I absolutely said nothing."

He just continued to stare as he strode towards you. You just stayed frozen in your place, unable to process what was about to happen. You backed away from Bucky as he neared you, your back hitting the fridge. He stopped right in front of you. He looked so much different when you first saw him. His eyes had become darker and stared with so much intensity and intention.

"You know, you're something else." He licked his lower lip.

"I don't know what you mean, Bucky."

He traced your jawline with his finger and tilted your chin up. "I can't quite put my finger on you, doll, but you're really something else."

You weren't ready for something to happen so you walked as quickly as you could towards your bedroom, locked the door behind me and leaned against it. Your breathing was quite uneven and your heart thudded like fast bullets on the ground.

You looked down on your sticky chest that reeked of vodka. You pursed your lips together. "Natasha Romanoff, you son of a bitch."

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yuta1forme · 3 years

Text

light & shadow pt. 1 | yuta

summary: standing in line for doyoung’s book signing, yuta wonders if he has ever acted normally around you

author’s note: i had no idea how else to split this story into a readable format so this will be a two (maybe three) part series! as always let me know if you would like to be tagged in the future parts!

taglist: @sweet-rintarou

prologue: [21:26]

genre: fluff, friends to lovers, college!au (this part)

pairing: yuta x reader

length: 1.7K

There are certain fundamental truths Yuta knows about the universe - the sun always rises in the east, milk goes before cereal and that Nakamoto Yuta does not blush.

“Nakamoto Yuta, do I have permission to flirt with you in Japanese?”, the translation app reads out in its robotic voice. He whips his head around to face you as if the words had left your mouth and not the phone held in your hand. And then he feels it. That unfamiliar heat rising to his neck and cheeks. One look at the amused grin on your face and he knows that you have noticed too. If there is one thing that has not changed in all eleven years of him knowing you, it’s that he should always expect the unexpected from himself when he is around you.

Even right now, hearing you gush about your attractive new coworker, Yuta feels an unfamiliar knot of form in the pit of his stomach. He suspects that it is the protectiveness he feels towards you that is making him feel so strangely antagonistic towards this man he has never met. But there is a niggling feeling at the back of his mind that tells him that that’s not the only reason why.

You always had a way of getting a reaction out of him that no one else could, always had him feeling emotions that he didn’t know he could feel. His relationship with you, while not better or worse than the relationship he had with any of his other friends, was certainly different. It always had been.

In freshman year, equipped with only a translation app on his phone, Yuta left his hometown of Osaka for Seoul. He had been offered a full-ride sports scholarship by Sooman University. He would play for the school’s soccer team and pursue, to his parents’ relief, a more “practical” degree in Business Management.

He would be playing with the team where some of his favourite soccer players had first gotten their start before moving to the Japanese league. It was a dream come true. Well, almost.

He had just never imagined it would be quite this...lonely.

Over his first month in the city, he could count the number of people he had spoken to on one hand. The first was his roommate with whom his conversations were limited to “hello” and “good morning”. The second and third were two middle-aged cafeteria ladies, who would coo over him and give him an additional helping whenever they saw that he was down. The younger of the two looked so much like his aunt, that it made his heart long for his family back in Osaka.

The fourth and final person was Mr. Jung Yunho, the Student Affairs Counsellor - an energetic man in his early thirties who had lived in Japan for most of his adult life. He had sense that something was amiss and had tried to pry into what was bothering Yuta right from their first meeting. After about three weeks of beating around the bush, Yuta had finally, begrudgingly, confided in him about his homesickness and his trouble communicating in Korean. Mr Jung had listened intently through it all, occasionally patting his shoulder to comfort him.

“You must feel very lonely, Yuta”, the older man had told him, resting one hand on his shoulder, eyes shining with sincerity.

It was lonely. He didn’t have a single person he could call a friend. Everyone he had met thus far seemed so busy, living a life far too fast paced to notice the quiet foreign student at the back of the lecture hall. He wondered if anyone in his classes would even notice if he stopped attending lectures. The only time he felt like he belonged somewhere was when he was playing soccer with the team, but even then he wondered whether he could call his teammates, his friends.

“Let’s start with helping you communicate first, shall we?”, Mr Jung had said, interrupting his self effacing train of thought.

“I’ll put you in touch with someone who can help tutor you in Korean. A Korean Literature student who’s been working with some other foreign students as well. I have a gut feeling you two will become great friends!”

That was how Yuta had come to know you. He clicked on your kakaotalk profile picture and zoomed in to your beaming face. You had one of those warm, welcoming faces. A face that one would trust immediately. Your face gave the impression that smiling was your resting face. The laugh lines on either side of your mouth and the crinkles beside your eyes were further proof of that.

Yuta had sent you a short, impersonal message introducing himself as the student Mr. Jung wanted you to tutor. He had not wanted to get his hopes up. Having been all by himself in a foreign country for the past month, being dependent on someone felt strange to him.

Still, before he went to bed that night he found himself refreshing his messages, hoping for a notification from you. As his luck would have it, you hadn’t replied even the following morning. Yuta had swallowed the lump forming in his throat, pushing any disappointment out of his mind.

You made the decision to move, all on your own, to this country far away from your friends and family, where you don’t even speak the native language. You have to face the consequences on your own too. Y/N is not obligated to help you. No one is. This is your own battle, for you to fight on your own.

With those thoughts in mind, he had busied himself with getting ready for the first match of the season against the neighbouring university.

At half-time, Sooman University was trailing behind Seoul University with a score of 3-1. With the centre forward benched because of a foul, things weren’t looking up for the team. Yuta had made several attempts to score a goal throughout the game but had been stopped by the right-back, Park Minsoo, on Seoul University’s team. He was much taller than Yuta and had a larger build, which he used to his advantage.

If there was one thing he absolutely hated, it was foul play. Yuta’s teammates had tried signalling to the referee that Park had been playing dirty, but the referee, infamous for being biased towards the Seoul University team, had brushed off their concern.

After having collided with him several times over the last half, Yuta was getting impatient. He knew this wouldn’t end well for him but he had let his anger get the best of him. After another foul-worthy tackle from Park, Yuta used his side to shove the man out of his way with all his energy. Perhaps it was the momentum with which Yuta had crashed into him or pure dramatics, Park landed on his back howling in anger.

The referee blew his whistle to signal a pause and the players from both teams began fighting amongst each either, trying to put the blame on the opposing team’s player. The situation with Park must have been grave because the Seoul team’s coach and manager hurried on to the pitch as well. Yuta’s team captain stepped forward to defend Yuta from the wrath of the other side. But ofcourse, being Japanese, Yuta barely understood a word being spoken. There was no way he would be able to dig himself out of this.

The thought of being benched for the rest of the semester crept into his mind. The fear of losing his scholarship made his legs tremble and he instantly regretted not heeding his older sister’s lifelong advice to him to be more gentle.

Then you appeared. Like an angel, only instead of white robes and a halo made of pure light, you wore a blinding neon green visor and an equally garish hot pink t-shirt bearing the Korean Literature Department’s logo. He saw you hop down the bleachers and squeeze through half a dozen sweaty soccer players, to thrust yourself in between Yuta and the opposing team’s coach. You explained somewhat emphatically to the referee that Yuta was a foreigner who barely spoke Korean and that any missteps on his part were purely a misunderstanding because of the language barrier. The man didn’t seem convinced, grumbling and gesturing animatedly at the two of you, egged on further by the other coach’s growing impatience.

Yuta wished he could understand what was being said. He tried to hang on to every word being spoken, but the adrenaline from the tackle and the heightened atmosphere made it even harder for him to concentrate. He picked up a few words here and there. A mention of a foul. Then someone yelling out the word suspension, which made him clench his fist so hard he thought he would pop a vein in his arm.

But he understood the last words to come out of your mouth, perfectly well.

“Please let my friend off the hook this one time? I apologise on his behalf”.

Friend. No, he definitely had not misheard that. You had called him your friend.

You had yanked Yuta forward by the arm, pushing his head down into a deep bow. Yuta took the hint and apologised, somewhat robotically, to Park and his coach. He was not bothered by the condescending smirk on Park’s face or the dirty looks that were thrown his way by the rest of the Seoul team as he allowed himself to be dragged off the field by you.

You dragged him quickly to the empty booths near the back of the stadium, sat him down and handed him a bottle of Gatorade.

“I saw your text. I’m really sorry I didn’t reply any earlier. But to be fair I had wished you good luck with your game but I doubt you saw my message considering you were down here getting shoved around by that asshole Park”, you had started rambling while Yuta chugged the drink.

Then he did something that he would cringe about for years to come. He should have known right then, on day one, that he could never act like his usual self around you.

He had shot up out of the seat, stepped forward and pulled you right into his arms, lifting you a couple of inches up in the air due to the sheer force. Through shaky breaths, he had whispered out a barely audible thank you to you. To his relief, you didn’t fight him off.

After a few seconds, you broke the silence and embrace.

“Hey, I know I just saved your ass but you’re kind of really stinky from the sweat”, you had said in between giggles.

He had dropped you back down and grinned somewhat apologetically at you in response.

After that day, he was no longer alone.

#yuta #nakamoto yuta #yuta fluff #yuta scenarios #yuta college au #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct friends to lovers #nct college au #yuta friends to lovers #moonrise

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ampleappleamble · 4 years

Text

Chapter 7: Crumbling Castle

Caed Nua stood, a mossy, neglected tombstone hunching above the sprawling, untamed foliage of the Yenwood. Its once mighty towers rose from the center of the ruined castle, climbing only midway to the sky before succumbing to gravity and the ravages of age. The walls surrounding the estate slumped and buckled as well, having sloughed away in places to reveal the overgrown bailey and the collapsed, rotting buildings therein.

Axa let her eyes wander over the derelict keep.

"What a shithole," she muttered.

Her flippant words did little to mask her disappointment, and although Aloth noticed this, he decided to say nothing. Anything he said would probably only make her feel worse, seeing as he was now almost utterly certain that if she was-- if they were to find anyone to advise on matters of the soul, it would not be here, in this place seemingly forsaken by kith. But he also knew by now that trying to deter the little woman from her goals was nigh impossible, so he trailed doggedly behind her, scepter and grimoire at the ready. After all, it wasn't as though he had any more promising leads to follow, and what she lacked in subtlety she more than made up for in determination. A disposition which with I am most certainly well acquainted, he thought bitterly, the resulting headache quite worth the barb.

Edér, either out of ignorance of Axa's true emotional state or in a good-natured attempt to lighten the mood, took a different approach and tried to joke with her, remarking aloud on the poor quality of Maerwald's gardeners. But he'd scarcely gotten the words out when the orlan gesticulated fiercely to him for silence, pivoting her long, tapered ears over to her left and listening intently. It wasn't long before her companions heard it too-- a low, steady humming coming from just beyond the bridge before them, behind the overgrown hedge, right outside of the walls of Caed Nua.

"Oh, good. We're not alone," Aloth whispered, reaching for his grimoire.

"This trip just keeps gettin' better," Edér sighed, drawing his blade.

Axa squinted in the direction of the humming noise, and a strange grin slowly spread across her flaxen face.

"...Is that Sea of Miracles?"

And she marched off confidently toward the moldy castle walls, her companions scrambling to keep up.

---

"Refrain of the Soul, actually," the gigantic man replied, his pointed teeth bared in a friendly smile. "But you were close! Both ballads were composed by the selfsame skald--"

"Uwēno the Elder!" Axa laughed, clapping her hands together. "Of course! And in the same year, if I remember correctly."

Aloth watched the two bards, utterly bemused. No matter how he tried to prepare himself for what might come, the world always managed to defy his expectations in the most bizarre ways. After they'd heard deep, tremulous murmurs in these abandoned ruins, he'd been sure he'd spend the next hour hurling arcane flame at hostile spirits or hungry wildlife, or maybe even bandits or cultists. Instead, he had found himself awkwardly fumbling to secure his weapons, trailing after Axa while she strode directly to the source of the noise: an enormous, very amicable aumaua man with whom she was now excitedly chattering about ancient Rauataian songstresses. After the surprise had worn off, he was obliged to wait quietly while they talked, feeling oddly like a petulant child waiting for his mother to finish speaking with another adult.

Glancing over at Edér, who looked as though he hadn't a thought in his head, Aloth felt a mild twinge of envy.

The farmer grinned back at the elf, content to idle for a few pleasant moments while the large shark man and the tiny cat lady laughed together at jokes he couldn't even begin to understand. Honestly, he was just happy to see the poor girl relaxed and in her element, for once. And they hadn't had to fight any screaming monsters! ...Yet.

"Kana Rua," the giant boomed, bending slightly at the waist to extend his hand to Axa, "of the royal city of Tâkowa and her esteemed lore college. Are you, perchance, here to see Maerwald? I assume you haven't come all this way to discuss music history with strangers!" His dark eyes, wide with curiosity, shifted to the other two men. "And with a retinue, no less!"

"Axa Mala," the little woman chuckled, "and my traveling companions, Aloth Corfiser and Edér Teylecg. We are indeed here for Maerwald's counsel. I'm a Watcher, it seems, and I'm hoping he can offer some insight into our shared condition. And yourself?"

Both Kana's eyes and his smile had grown steadily as she spoke. "You're a Watcher? Truly? ...Well, I'm afraid my own reasons for seeking Maerwald aren't nearly so extraordinary. I was hoping he could direct me to a tablet of great historical and cultural import to my people, the Tanvii ora Toha. Only... I've had some difficulties in actually getting near the place."

He winced in the direction of the stone archway leading past the walls of Caed Nua and into its wild, unkempt yard. They couldn't see the dark spirits beyond the castle gate, but they didn't need to. All four kith could feel the dark spirits' presence, falling silent for a moment as the malevolent essence in the air prickled and picked at the edges of their souls.

"To meet the master of the estate, it seems one must first neutralize his spectral visitants, or else find a way around them. I'm... afraid I haven't had much luck at either by myself."

"Ah," Edér groaned, feeling his bowels churn with the sick, primal fear spirits always instilled in him. "There's that fight I knew was gonna happen."

"But this is a magnificently serendipitous encounter!" Kana grinned again, bigger and brighter than the sun, spreading his arms before the group as though to embrace all of them just for being there. "I was planning to finish jotting down these notes, set up camp for the evening, and simply trek to the nearest village tomorrow to hire a helping hand. But since we've the same goal, and you all look quite capable--"

"A collaborative effort?" Axa finished for him, stepping closer to the huge man. "I'm all for it, as long as there are no objections." The orlan glanced back at her companions.

"You'll hear no dissent from me."

"Hey, the more the merrier."

The little woman turned back to the aumaua with a wink. "That settles it, then! Welcome to my retinue, Kana Rua. With you at our shoulders, we ought to make short work of these ghastlies."

His already broad smile broadened ever further. "And we shall hold conference with Maerwald before sundown! I'm certain of it!"

---

Soldier and marauder. Soldier and marauder and Maerwald.

At sundown, they finished burying the keep's former master.

Axa gazed out over the bailey-- her bailey, this was her keep now (??!!)-- at the freshly filled grave next to the chapel. Her thoughts buzzed frantically like a swarm of panicked hornets behind her eyes, and she couldn't focus on a single thought long enough to make sense of any one of them.

No sleep. No sleep for the Watcher.

"I think... I'm going slightly mad."

Edér frowned sympathetically, placed a heavy, calloused hand on the little woman's shoulder. "Hey, c'mon. It ain't as bad as all that, is it?" He'd done most of the digging, being more acquainted with the work than anyone else, and his hand left a sizable smudge of grave dirt on her tunic.

She didn't look at him. "I'm going to go completely mad. I'm a Watcher, and I'm Awakened, and there's some sort of Woedican cult behind it, and if I can't find them, or if they can't undo this, then I'm going to lose my mind and die. Just like him." To her mild surprise, no tears welled in her eyes or spilled down her cheeks. Although her eyes felt hot and swollen, she supposed she was simply too overwhelmed, too exhausted to cry anymore.

Kana, eye level with the woman as she leaned against the adra pillar under which he was seated, studied her face while he considered his approach. "Well... if it's of any comfort to you, you at least know what to expect in regards to your condition. You know where you're going next, you've an entire keep to set yourself up in while you search." That gregarious smile opened up his face again. "And you've a band of loyal flunkies at your beck and call!"

"And a magic talkin' stone chair lady t' take care of most of the housekeeping for you." Edér grinned down at her, brushing the dirt from her shoulder with a casual familiarity. "All things considered, you got dealt a bad hand, but at least the deck is lookin' like it's stacked in yer favor."

Axa pricked up her ears, and turned to regard the blond man with a mix of wonder and disgust. "...I don't know if that's the best or the worst mixed metaphor I've ever heard."

He chuckled as he stuck his pipe between his teeth. "No idea what yer talkin’ about there, lil' darlin'."

She finally laughed, brushing at her dry, sticky eyes with her fists, and Kana laughed too, throwing an arm around her shoulder. "See there! The ship floats yet. Tomorrow the eastern barbican will be restored, and then off to Defiance Bay, where answers abound! ...If Maerwald spoke true, anyway."

Poor woman. They will take you, too--

"Might look for some answers there myself, if you'll go with me." The farmer let loose a plume of smoke as he spoke, failing to finish exhaling before turning to the little Watcher. "Been thinkin' about what I wanted to ask ol' Maerwald before... well, before all that had to go down. About my brother, Woden. Think I might find at least a... hint or somethin' in the big city." He passed his pipe to her, and she did not hesitate to accept it.

"Mysteries upon mysteries!" Kana's booming voice in her ear made her wince. "The Eyeless Seer must have you in their sights, my friend. Pun fully intended!"

"For the love of the gods," she groaned,

For the gods' love! For their love!! the old man sobbed--

a sudden headache gripping her behind the eyes, "is Aloth finished setting up in there or what?"

---

Nae they willnae.

"Oh yes they will. It's inevitable now."

Aloth's grimoire trembled in his hands, sweat dribbling down his temple as he tried to focus. The large, broken brazier he'd dragged into the middle of the great hall wasn't a small target for a spell, but it wasn't exactly a large one either. And it didn't help that Aloth felt as though he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

They willnae find oot, laddie.

"They will. All because someone can't keep their thoughts to themselves."

It hadn't been difficult to convince the others to allow him to set up camp for the night by himself. Axa had not seemed very eager to socialize after she'd landed the killing blow on the old man, and Edér and Kana had quickly volunteered to take care of the remains. And after the confrontation with Maerwald, after what the old Watcher had told them, Aloth had been desperate for solitude.

Fye, they wouldnae need t' find oot aught if ye'd tellt 'em sooth from th' start as ye oughttae--

He'd rushed his recitation, and now he flourished too haphazardly, and the arcane fire he called forth flashed and spouted violently into the rusty little brazier. Aloth hissed with pain and surprise as the unruly flames licked at his face, singed his hair.

"Damn you!" he screamed, whirling quickly around, shielding his face with his arms. "You dare to-- You always do this, you--" The wizard cut himself off. He squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his fists at his sides. He needed to stop and calm down, right now.

One. He exhaled. He inhaled. He exhaled.

Buck up, Corfiser. Your situation is not that dire.

Two. He shook his hands out of their tight fists, flexed his fingers.

No one has any concrete evidence. Of anything. And no one has said anything. Yet.

Three. His shoulders twitched, tried to lock back up, but finally slumped, laden with nervous exhaustion.

They will find out. About... us. That's an inevitability.

Four. His ears, pressed back flat against his head in irritation, started to slowly droop down and forward.

But that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Five. His hands hung limp at his sides now. His breathing and heart rate slowed.

For one, the same taboos don't apply here like they do back home. Look at how the others responded to Axa, for instance.

Six. He pressed his lips into a thin line, lowering his head until his chin touched his clavicle.

And if Axa can find out more information about her condition, and if she'll have me along, maybe...

Seven. He wrapped his arms around himself, cupping his elbows in his hands.

But... then, if she finds out about... and Kana has made enemies of them, too-- oh gods, this isn't--

Eight. He started pacing back and forth. He was shaking all of a sudden, gasping for breath.

This isn't working-- Why isn't-- I need to--

Nine. He heard the doors to the Great Hall creak slowly open, but he kept his eyes screwed shut. He couldn't open them, couldn't until ten--

Oh gods, if I've been wrong this whole time--

Ten. He opened his eyes.

Axa touched him on the elbow, and he actually yelped in surprise.

"Axa! I'm-- You're back! H-how can... I help you?" He winced, looking away from her as he felt his face grow warm. Kana was off to his right, humming merrily away and taking notes about the keep's interior or somesuch; Edér was rummaging through his things, likely looking for more whiteleaf.

Axa herself looked at him with concern-- or was that just his imagination?-- and cocked her thumb at the now-calm campfire, the meticulously arranged bedrolls. "You've helped more than enough, I'd say. Thank you for doing this."

He prepared to suppress a relieved smile, but she took care of it for him. "Aloth, are you-- have you been feeling alright?"

"Wh-- well, I mean-- yes, yes, of course, just-- I've just been a bit... distracted, processing some of the... unusual things we've all seen as of late." He never knew how he managed to fool anybody: here he was, heart pounding in his chest, fidgeting, eyes darting to and fro, insisting he was just fine, thank you.

Nevertheless, the little woman regarded him with sympathy and spoke in a low, soothing tone. "That's understandable. I think we've all had some rather unsettling revelations recently."

"We certainly have, you foremost among us." Aloth had started to recover and he straightened up, tugging at his clothes, dusting himself off, all those little tricks he'd learned to explain away his tics and outbursts. "If what Maerwald said is true, your very life and future are in jeopardy."

She frowned, turning her attention away from him-- just as he'd hoped she might-- and sighed heavily, staring at her feet. "Yes. Yes, I've got quite a lot to contend with. Whoever or whatever this Leaden Key is, I have to find them. Sooner the better. My sanity, my life could depend on it."

"Indeed." His composure finally restored to a respectable level, Aloth gave the orlan his best diplomatic smile and nod. "Rest assured, I shall accompany you and render what aid I can on our journey to Defiance Bay."

"Why?"

His heart stopped. "...I beg your pardon?"

A look of shock flashed across her face, followed closely by a bashful grimace. "I'm-- I'm sorry. Never mind. It's been a long day, I... I should get some rest. You, too. Long day tomorrow as well." These last few lines were delivered half-mumbled over her shoulder as she shuffled over toward her belongings, which he had carefully arranged a safe distance from the fire, close by to his own things. He tried, but found he could not muster a verbal farewell, instead struggling to keep a neutral facade even as she walked away from him.

"...I think she knows."

An impatient, long-suffering sigh.

Nae she disnae.

---

Maerwald sat at his hearth and watched his fire. Watched the wood burn.

Axa sat in the Great Hall of Caed Nua's keep and gazed into the makeshift campfire.

I'm sorry, old man. At least... I was able to release your soul from this place. You can truly rest, now.

Her three comrades slept peacefully in their bedrolls, the ugly, dark things in the keep-- her keep-- kept at bay by the light and warmth from the fire and from the Steward, both, Axa imagined. Of course, she found herself unable to rest, although she was exhausted. No sleep for the Watcher.

The soul remembers--

A memory. A memory caused this. And that man, the one in the ruins-- he called that memory forth.

Who is he? Was he? Is he the same person from... from my past life? How is that possible...?

Axa squinted into the flames, trying to remember him. She pictured his face--

--you, Anthea? My child, what--

-- and suddenly powerful waves of emotion hammered the little woman's mind, choking out all other thought. Tears flooded her eyes and poured down her face as just the memory of the man's voice, of his cold, stony stare filled her mind with horror and rage and sorrow for which she had no explanation. If only she could remember more, remember the question she--

--ask him ask him ask him please you have to ask him you have to know you have to have to--

Axa crawled to her bedroll, trembling and sniffling, and collapsed, where she remained for the next eleven hours.

She only slept for four of them.

---

#pillars of eternity #fanfiction #fanfic #poe anthem infinitum #watcher #watcher axa #aloth #eder #kana rua #holy moly this took foreveeerrrrrrrrr #might edit in more song references later

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probably-eating-poptarts · 4 years

Text

New Blood | Part 1

There’s a new face in Travis County...

Universe: Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt x OC

Word count: 1,343

A/N: Just gonna dip my toes into the TCM waters here... 😏 (Also I asked if @tentacles-and-coffee wanted to be tagged when I posted this, and I received a VERY emphatic yes - So here ya go. 😂)

Chapter song: On The Road Again - Willie Nelson

| Chapter 2 |

✧༝┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉༝✧

Another scorching day in central Texas, and another long haul across counties for Adeline Elwood. With the windows rolled down to let in as much airflow as possible, all Addie could hear was the constant whine of her tires across hot asphalt and the rushing of the wind in her ears, along with the occasional low bellow from the half-dozen or so cows she hauled in her Grandfather’s beat up old Freuhauf trailer. The radio had broken sometime last week and she just hadn’t gotten around to fixing it yet, so she had only her thoughts and the steers to keep her company as the miles rolled on beneath the tires.

Mid-morning passed, bleeding into early afternoon while Addie made a few more stops at other farms and ranches along her route, and as gas began running low she started keeping an eye out for any signs of somewhere she could top off. She loved these old back roads that stretched on endlessly, devoid of traffic or bustling urban areas, but that also meant hours could go by before she saw any signs of life beyond the occasional pasture or old plantation nestled far off in the valleys.

It took almost another forty minutes, but finally a weather worn sign nearly consumed by a thicket of dried scrub just off the side of the road marked a family-owned diner that promised cheap gas and fresh, home-style food. The turnoff led down a short stretch of highway to where an old clapboard building sat nestled beneath the pitiful shade of one lone, dead pine in the middle of the Texas fields, fallen to disrepair over time with a single pair of derelict pumps out front. She carefully eased her truck into the lot, mindful of the long trailer, before cutting the engine and jumping out of the cab eagerly. It felt so nice to move her legs after driving for such a long time, and she stretched the stiffness out of her back before yanking her tousled, tawny hair into a sloppy ponytail at the base of her skull and ambling into the building proper.

The screen door did very little to disperse the sweltering heat blanketing everything in a dry, baking cloud, but it was still at least a few degrees cooler within the shaded confines of the surprisingly spacious dining area than it was outside beneath direct sunlight. Behind the counter an older woman sat knitting, her sharp gaze flitting up from behind cat-eye glasses to study the new occupant in the otherwise empty space before she let her project fall to her lap.

“What brings you out all this way, hon?”

“Just passing through, ma’am,” Addie replied politely. “Hauling some beef cattle out to Lee County.”

She seemed to perk up a fraction at that. “Off to market, then? Where you comin’ from?”

“Yes ma’am. I live over in Bluff Springs with my grandparents, they run a dairy farm up near the old sawmill, and we help out some of the other farms in Burnet and Williamson when it’s time to send off their stock.”

Luda Mae Hewitt pursed her lips and hummed thoughtfully, her knitting now all but forgotten. It wasn’t often she saw local folk this deep in the backcountry anymore; instead having to deal with rowdy bikers or half-naked hippies all out looking to cause trouble. And while she still didn’t fully approve of her eldest son’s lifestyle choices, she had to admit that she was never all that upset when people like that inevitably ended up on her dinner table.

This girl, however... She was different. No booty shorts and crop tops, no leather chaps and chains; just a sensible button up and well-worn jeans with scuffed up work boots and a rather pretty face. Her interest was certainly caught by the newcomer, although something was niggling at the back of her mind, as if she knew her from somewhere.

“You know, there’s this little place out near Campbell Road, just down a ways from the market pavilion where I bet you’re taking those steers on to, and they have the best tea selection in the lower half of Texas. You like tea, sweetheart?”

As Luda prattled on, Addie was browsing the limited drink selection in a little cooler nestled between a sunflower seed display and a slightly questionable collection of snack cakes with indecipherable cellophane labels.

“Sure do,” she obliged after making her selection, depositing a few coins for the drink and a five for her pump onto the counter. “My grandma used to make the best sweet tea I ever had.”

“Well they’ve got this new thing going now,” Luda continued, “It’s green tea! Wasn’t much on the idea myself, but my friend Kathy convinced me to try it and I am just so surprised. You ever had green tea?”

“No ma’am, can’t say that I have.” Addie replied, worried slightly about her poor cows overheating but also intrigued by this sweet, lonely old lady. Surely you got desperate for any kind of interaction when you ran a place like this out in the middle of nowhere.

“Well I’ll tell you what.” Luda slid the crumpled bills back across the counter. “Full tank, on the house, if you’ll see about bringing me a box on your way back, hm?”

Addie’s brow shot up towards her hair line. Was she... serious? Five would have probably gotten her to the pavilion on fumes, but a full tank would have run her close to fifteen bucks. All that for a little box of tea?

“Oh well, surely I couldn’t-”

“No, no, honey, I insist. I don’t get around much these days and I figure if you’re gonna be driving by again anyways on your way back through, we can make a little trade-off, yeah?”

The younger of the pair scratched the back of her neck in consideration, and then shrugged. “I suppose that would be alright, then. Thank you kindly, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Luda Mae! What’s your name, hon?”

“Adeline. Adeline Elwood.”

“Elwood... As in the Elwood Dairy?” Ah, there was that incessant little niggle. “You must be old John’s grandbaby. My lord, you sure have grown!”

A mild blush splashed across Addie’s freckled cheeks, and she gave the older woman a self-conscious smile. “Yes ma’am, that’s the one.”

“Well Adeline, you go on and pump your gas now, let me just drag the hose from the side and spray those poor cows down before they cook into burgers halfway to market! What do you say?”

They shared a companionable chuckle and Addie accepted the offer, heading back to her truck while Luda Mae trundled off through a side door behind the low counter. They chatted amicably for a little longer until the pump clicked to a stop, and then said their goodbyes just as a dusty sheriff’s cruiser swung into the parking lot with a spray of gravel.

Addie watched from the driver’s seat as Luda Mae met the newcomer on the steps of the diner, cranking her engine and making eye contact with the sour-faced stranger through the open window while slowly rolling into motion. She raised her hand in a half-wave, and the man spat an oily string of tobacco juice onto the concrete in her direction with a scowl.

Lovely fellow.

The station quickly faded from view as Addie made her way back on course, and she took mental note of the road signs marking the intersection so she would know where to turn on her way back home. A measly box of tea was nothing in exchange for a full tank of gas around these parts, and honestly who was she to deny the request of such a charming old lady?

It would be early the next morning before Addie finally made it to her destination, but she had the whine of the tires, the wind in her hair, a trailer full of cattle, and a cold bottle of sweet tea to keep her company...

#texas chainsaw massacre #TCM #The Beginning #Thomas Hewitt #Tommy Hewitt #Thomas Hewitt x OC #pairing #original character #Addie is honestly just a good ol country girl #and Luda Mae is OG grandma #give that woman a beautiful girl to love #hopefully slow burn?#they aren't really my forte #but ill try 😂😂#Tommy Hewitt x OC

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witharsenicsauce · 4 years

Text

(XCOM) Chosen Stories From the War #2: We’re Not Using the “Zed” Word

For a month, Kon-Mai stayed secluded in the XCOM medical bay, spending most of that month sleeping, in deep meditation, or staring at the ceiling while her thoughts tangled in her mind. Her wounds, despite Malinalli’s assurances, were deep and painful, and often seemed just on the cusp of infection. Her IV contained one dose of antibiotics after another and, when the pain got too bad, the occasional shot of morphine so she could relax enough to sleep.

Seclusion leads to depression. Kon-Mai had never been very social with her brothers before, but being surrounded by the unfamiliar faces of people who kept you at arm's length, it was beginning to wear on her. Tygan was one of the only people who didn’t seem to fear her, but his social skills were lacking to say the least, and thus she didn’t trouble him for conversation.

Her only respite was Malinalli. While often swamped with tending to other injured soldiers, when her nurse could get a moment she would come change her bandages or refill the IV, and then take a bit of extra time away just to talk. She was much more talkative than Kon-Mai would ever be, but even listening to the human girl ramble was a nice reprieve from the solitude.

“I think you need a break.” The girl said to her one morning while changing Kon-Mai’s bandages.

“I have been resting diligently for weeks on end.” Kon-Mai replied. “I am already in the middle of ‘a break’ as you say.”

“I think you need a break from resting.” Malinalli pouted. “You don’t talk to anyone besides me.”

“They do not wish for my companionship.” Kon-Mai tried to sound dismissive. “I am used to being solitary.”

“Is that why you look so sad all the time?”

“I do not look sad, this is just the structure of my face.” Her borther had often commented on her “resting bitch face” and while she hated when he did...she ad to agree. She was no pretty sight.

“Mhm.” Malinalli pulled the new bandages tight and tucked them in. “You’ve gotten most of your strength back, haven't you? If nothing else, your wound looks much better. I don’t even think there’s a risk of dehiscence anymore.”

Kon-Mai was silent. While she’d been out of bed occasionally since the last time, it was only with help from Malinalli and while leaning heavily on a walker, and that was only because her medic insisted that she use her muscles so they didn’t atrophy. There was no other reason: she had no need for food of any kind and, thus, no need for the restroom facilities the other soldiers used. She also had not showered or bathed herself since she arrived, but that was less due to her own genetics and more out of...apathy.

“A bunch of my colleagues usually like to meet in the bar to hang out.” Malinalli kept talking. “I want you to come.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll have to decline.”

“I told them you were coming though.”

“What?” Kon-Mai bared her sharp teeth and growled. Malinalli flinched, but only for a split second. She stood her ground firmly.

“I can’t pick you up and force you to go.” She said, “I mean literally. You’re a lot heavier than me. But, I want you to.”

“I can assure you, your colleagues DO NOT want me to join them.”

“I think you’d be shocked.” Malinalli said. “They’re really excited to put a face to the name. Everyone’s been talking about you.”

“They fear me.”

“Yeah but…” Malinalli shifted on her feet. “How do I put this...you have a bit of a growing...fan club.”

Kon-Mai growled. “Wonderful. As if the pathetic civilian stalkers were not enough, the very enemy wishes for my attention. Would they like me to autograph their plastic swords?” She said in a high, mocking tone.

“They admire you.” Malinalli insisted. “Facing you in battle made a lot of us realize we’re woefully unprepared in melee combat. Goldilocks has been trying to make a training regimen based on your work but without you it’s all guesswork, and I know she’d love to learn from the best-”

“Cease!” Kon-Mai held up her hand. “You prattle like a Sectoid! Who is this ‘Goldilocks’?”

Malinalli seemed to smile knowingly. “I could tell you, but it would be much easier to just...show you.”

Kon-Mai bared her teeth, but it was half-hearted. “...I will need garments.”

“You can borrow mine…wait…”

Kon-Mai raised a brow.

“I guess you can’t. Um...gimme one second!”

Kon-Mai stared at herself in the mirror of the tiny bathroom. She towered over the sink and had to look down in order to see her reflection, but even at that angle she noticed how ragged she looked. The battle had taken more from her than she’d thought it had. Aside from her main, self-inflicted injury, she was dotted with tiny bullet wounds that had bruised as they healed, leaving her peppered with indigo dots.

She reached up behind her head and ran her hand through her...her hair. Her long, white hair. She had not worn it down since...she couldn’t remember when. She remembered being issued her clasps, the tubs with which her hair had hidden behind. She remembered the circlet fitting around her skull, the priests clasping it in place and then drilling-

She ran her fingers along the slight scars along the sides and top of her head: they looked uneven. She supposed the doctors must have removed her circlet? If they’d removed her chip, they must have had to. Now, her white hair breathed again: her eldest brother’s hair was soft and radiant, almost glowing. Hers, in perfect contrast, was knotted, kinky and so very oily from years being neglected, only taken from the tube every few months to be cut down and scrubbed raw. She shook her head, the while curls bouncing around her shoulders, and ran her fingers through it. It only grew from the back of her head and down her neckline to the nape. There already wasn’t much of it, and the way it stuck together made her look as bald as The Hunter. No wonder he wore a hood, it was not a good look on either of them.

Following her scarred hairline, she reached back and felt along the thick scar where her chip used to be. She no longer heard the Elders’ voices, and they could not read her thoughts. To them, she must have been presumed dead. She had expected the emptiness in her mind to be stifling, but for perhaps the first time in her life, she had been sleeping peacefully at night.

Kon-Mai reached into the shower and turned it on. She was the Assassin, and if she was going to present herself to the enemy, it was on her to make sure she looked presentable.

She pulled off her gown and stared at herself, at her scar, running jagged along her belly. Her dagger had cut so deep; so many torn muscles and arteries, so many split tendons, she had nearly felt her soul leave her body when she drove the blade into her ribs. The fact that the Commander not only saved her life, had brought her back to near perfect health…

She was supposed to die there.

That woman was hiding something.

Kon-Mai stepped under the hot water, shivering at the sensation. She didn’t remember this kind of warmth. Her baths had always been cold, and she herself was always...cold.

She hugged herself and just stood there for a moment, feeling the water run over her body.

Then she reached for the shampoo. If she went to all this trouble to take her hair down, she might as well wash it.

She put her hair into a single braid when she stepped out, not wanting to encase it while it was wet. With that, Kon-Mai dried herself off and reached for the clothes Malinalli had brought her.

They were small, of course. That was to be expected, no one here was even close to her size. The pants she was given were more like shorts, stopping just below her knees and hugging her body where Kon-Mai was pretty sure they were supposed to hang loose. The shirt was a flowy dress that on a human would come down to the knees. On her, it almost reached her waist and hugged her lady-lumps a bit more than she would have preferred. It had no sleeves, leaving her arms exposed. She looked over the glowing veins and…

Shook her head.

There were no shoes that fit her, of course, so she walked barefoot into the infirmary, the cold metal floor biting the soles of her feet. Malinalli was waiting for her, and beamed when she saw her. “You look so pretty! And your hair! I didn’t realize you…” She trailed off.

“I do indeed have hair.” The Assassin glowered. “I simply can’t leave it flying like my brother can.”

“No, no, I totally get it.” Despite her dark complexion, Kon-Mai could see Malinalli blushing. “I have to keep my hair back during work so I understand….”

Kon-Mai said nothing, barely meeting her gaze. “Let us get on with it then.”

“Yeah.” Malinalli held out her hand but Kon-Mai shook her head.

“I can walk perfectly fine, if you lead the way.”

“Okay...the canteen is this way.” She opened the door and held it. “After you.”

Kon-Mai had to duck slightly under the doorframe. Perhaps it was a good thing she was barefoot, she could only imagine the trouble she’d have wearing something akin to heels.

Despite the insistence on her independence, every step Kon-Mai took sent a shot of pain up her legs and into her chest. She clenched her fists, biting her lip and willing herself to keep a steady pace with the small human woman. Thank goodness she was walking slowly.

The canteen was, thankfully, close by. They rounded a corner and the metal shifted to dark, polished wood. The bar was much darker, lit with mood lighting and candles, and Kon-Mai could feel her muscles relaxing in the calm environment.

Until she heard the yelling.

“I TOLD YOU!” A distinctly British voice cried. “WE ARE NOT USING THE ZED WORD!”

“Why not?” Resounded another woman’s voice, without the noticeable accent. If Kon-Mai had to guess, she’d say this one was American.

“Because it’s RUDE!”

“Rude to who, the zombies? They don’t fucking care!”

Kon-Mai heard Malinalli sigh audibly, and she looked over to the source of the nose, where two human women sat at a booth.

“It’s the principle of the matter!” The British one said.

“There is no ‘principle’ to this matter.” The other one began counting on her fingers. “They walk like zombies, they’re half-rotten, they eat brains, they talk in weird growls, they are zombies, so I will call them zombies!”

“They still have human rights!”

“NO THEY DON’T! And neither do we, Princess! Have you forgotten the world ended?!”

Kon-Mai approached the table, and the shadow she cast over it made the two women stop and look up at her.

“Guys!” Malinalli called. “Meet Kon-Mai!”

“Oh!” The British woman, a girl in her youth with short purple hair, perked up. “Oh yes! We’ve been absolutely dying to meet you!” She jumped up, and Kon-Mai noticed that clasped in her hair was a little tiara. “Lady Demetria Min of the British Isles!”

“Don’t believe anything she says.” The other woman piped up. “You’re not an actual Lady, Princess.”

“Shut up.” Princess snapped.

The other woman looked significantly older, with wrinkles and scars carved in her dark ebony skin, but the bright red hair she sported gave her a youthful demeanor.

“Kon-Mai, this is Zuri Temitope.” Malinalli gestured to the woman.

“I prefer Tisiphone.” The woman smiled, looking the Chosen up and down. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but you...certainly live up to the hype.”

Kon-Mai nodded in thanks, but remained silent.

Tisiphone turned to Malinalli. “Hm. She’s quiet. I like her already.”

Princess pouted. “Well, come on! Sit with us, don’t just stand there!” Kon-Mai yelped as Princess pulled her into the seat beside her.

“Maybe she can finish this debate for us.” Tisiphone said as she sat back down. “So. I say that the Lost should just be called ‘zombies’.”

“And I say that it’s rude to call them the zed word, and ‘The Lost’ is more politically correct!” Princess countered, her tone rising.

“I’m not fucking worried about hurting the zombies feelings, Princess.”

“It’s not about feelings, it’s about what’s right!”

“What do you mean what’s right? Our job is to mow them down like grass!” Tisiphone turned to Kon-Mai. “But what do you think? Your perspective is probably a lot different.”

“Yes. Tell her I’m right.”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, Princess.”

Kon-Mai blinked as the two women finally fell silent, staring at her expectantly.

“I believe it was one of your kind that said, ‘a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.’” Kon-Mai said slowly. “What you call them does not matter, or change what they are. As long as you can do what must be done and eliminate them.”

“Oh fuck off.” Tisiphone said. “That’s a non-answer. You gotta pick a side.”

“Guys, come on, she said her piece.” Malinalli cut in. “Don’t badger her.”

“Why do you object to their current title?” Kon-Mai asked Tisiphone.

“It sounds like some sci-fi fantasy bullshit. Zombies have been part of human mythologies for centuries and everyone knows the term. Calling them ‘The Lost’ is just needlessly complicated.”

“Of course it is!” Princess cut in. “Everything is complicated right now, Tisiphone! But we have it so much easier compared to them, the way they’re suffering. Even if I gotta put them down, I don’t wanna forget that they are human, just like us.”

There was a brief silence, in which Kon-Mai’s eyes drifted to the hallway and she, unfortunately, locked eyes with a familiar Skirmisher woman.

“Betos.” She hissed, and hid her face with her hand, but it was too late. The conversation died at the sound of combat boots clomping their way towards the group.

“The Commander instructed me to fetch you.” Betos’ gravelly voice sounded too close for her comfort.

Kon-Mai looked up briefly, again catching Betos’ narrowed, yellow eyes.

“I did not expect to see you here.” she said as she stood, Princess helping her to her feet.

“My soldiers are here, and thus so am I.” Betos turned to Malinalli. “You are dismissed.”

Malinalli stammered. “I need to return the patient to-”

“When the Commander is done, she will page you.” Betos said firmly. “You are dismissed. Go back to your post.”

Malinalli looked warily to Kon-Mai, who gave her a nod.

“...Understood.” Malinalli mumbled as she left.

“It was nice meeting you!” Princess called after Kon-Mai. “Come back sometime, alright?!”

Kon-Mai did not answer her.

Betos’ pace was much faster than her human nurse’s, and despite her best efforts, Kon-Mai found herself falling behind. She dared not call out, but she saw Betos getting farther and farther away and knew if she didn’t, she’d get left behind on this damned ship.

Luckily for her, Betos stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face her, her yellow eyes glowing in the low light.

Kon-Mai bared her teeth. “This was your plan, then? Lead me away, so I would be helpless, and then strike me down?” She nodded. “A devious trick, but it has worked. If you wish to kill me, now is your time.”

“Believe me, if I wanted to, you would already be dead by now. Dead and rotting in your stronghold, where your poor brothers would find the broken body of their little sister, and they would know that your life was taken by your own hands...” Betos shook her head. “But no. No, it’s not enough. Killing you, it wouldn’t be enough.”

Kon-Mai’s goading smile fell, and she felt a chill run up her spine. “What?”

“If you died, that would be it. You might feel a moment of pain and in the end, you might even beg for repentance. But…” She smiled. “No. I began this journey not so different from you. Mox has killed more than you, lest we forget.” ”Do not remind me of that.” ”I will. You are not the monster you want yourself to be. And I want you to look upon that truth, and swallow it like medicine. I want you to renounce your precious Elders and become exactly what you swore to destroy, to live like us, to truly feel.”

“I did feel, once. You saw it yourself, Betos. And yet you did not seem to care so much then.” Kon-Mai blinked violently, hot tears in her eyes. “...Do not be so sure that anything will happen.”

“We’ll see.” Betos turned her back to her. “It’s why the Commander wants to meet with you.” She continued her pace, and Kon-Mai limped along, trying to catch up.

Thankfully, it was only a few more feet down the hallway that they stopped at a single metal door, upon which Betos knocked. “Commander, I have her.”

The door opened, and Kon-Mai froze.

The woman stood up, her long white hair flowing like it had its own wind current around it. She walked slowly around to the front of her desk and locked eyes with the Assassin, those green eyes glowing with warmth and light and calm. She radiated with ethereal beauty.

“Welcome, Kon-Mai Mordenna.” The woman said. “I am Commander Senuna of XCOM. I’ve been so looking forward to our meeting.”

(God I’ve been looking forward to this. I’ve decided I’m going to post a new chapter once a week on Saturdays, but I already have five or so written so waiting to post this has been torture.

Now that it’s out, I hope you all enjoy!

Also extra credit to the people who catch the “Shawn of the Dead” reference.)

#xcom #xcom 2 #xcom 2 war of the chosen #xcom2 #xcom assassin #xcom soldiers #xcom oc #xcom commander #commander #senuna #kon-mai mordenna #xcom bradford #john bradford

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nayutai · 6 years

Text

Wins and Losses

Summary: Aleecia’s mother tries to play matchmaker with someone her daughter would rather not see again

Word Count: 10K+

Genre: Mostly fluff and smut....maybe a little angst if you squint

Warnings: Foul language, unprotected sex, and I think that’s it. This is pretty tame compared to my other stuff lol

The smell of hot sex and the sound of heavy breathing fills the air as my latest hookup rolls off of me. I take a few minutes to regain some semblance of composure before swinging my legs over the side of the bed to start gathering my clothes. I can already feel that familiar soreness settling in at the apex of thighs as my legs tremble slightly. Definitely a ten out of ten on the hookup scale.

“Well thanks for the dick...” I draw a blank on his name as I turn to face the naked man lounging in the mess of sheets that we’d just been rolling around in.

“Hoseok,” he replies with a sly grin on his face as he watches me get dressed. The way he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth almost makes me want to jump back in bed with him but it’s already two a.m. and I have things to do in the morning.

“Are you gonna give me your number? We should do this again.” He says as he shifts around on the mattress. I mentally pat myself on the back for managing to snag such a fine ass man to end the night with. He runs a hand through the mess I made of his jet black locks and now it’s my turn to bite my lip. For a second, I contemplate breaking my rule of not sleeping with the same hookup twice but I stop myself.

“These situations are called one night stands for a reason, bub. Besides I have things to do in the morning well in a few hours.” I inform him as I slip my feet into my heels. “You be blessed though.” I blow a kiss in his direction, which he playfully rolls his eyes at, before grabbing my phone and keys and leaving the lavish apartment without a backwards glance.

“Aleecia, darling, you look absolutely dreadful.’ I roll my eyes at my mother’s prim and proper face that’s delicately twisted into a scowl.

“Good morning to you too, Mother.” I quickly kiss her cheek before turning too my dad. “Daddy.” I peck his cheeks several times much to his amusement. The side of my face burns as I turn to place my clutch on the chair next to me after taking my seat across from my parents.

“Don’t listen to your mother, sweet pea.” My father reaches across the table to place his hand on mine. “You look just as pretty as the day we brought you home.”

“Thanks, Daddy.” I return his bright smile then turn my attention back to my mother. “Are we expecting guests?” I ask, gesturing to the three empty chairs at our table. Our weekly brunches very rarely consist of anyone but us so I’m intrigued. The fact that my father rolls his eyes and looks at my mother lets me know that she’s got something up her blush pink suit sleeve.

“I invited one of my bridge friends Cindy and her husband. Their son just took a job at one of those investment firms downtown and I figured you could show him around.” My sly mother explains as she smooths out the napkin she’s carefully placed in her lap.

Now I see why my dad was rolling his eyes. This smells like my mother attempting to marry me off to the son of one of her prissy friends.

“Mom how many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to get married right now?” Of course, she just waves me off as if I’m still a child and not a twenty five year old woman capable of making my own life choices.

“Maybe if you had someone to come home to you’d stay out of those filthy bars you like to frequent. Don’t think I haven’t heard about you, missy.” I roll my eyes skyward as I prepare to get lectured on my “heathen antics” for the millionth time this month. I’m just having fun and I don’t plan on letting her desire for grandchildren she can show off ruin that any time soon.

Fortunately for me, my mother’s friend and her husband choose that exact moment to make an entrance. God bless them. I stand from my seat to greet them properly.

“Oh my, Aleecia! You’re even prettier than your mother said you were.” The sweet older lady kisses me own both cheeks as she squeezes both of my hands in hers. Her husband, Andrew, shakes my hand before moving on to my parents, clapping my dad on the back heartily.

“Where’s your son, Cindy?” My mother questions as we all take our seats around the table.

“He’s running a little late.” She informs as she spreads her napkin in her lap. “They needed his signature on some important paperwork. There he is!”

I turn to look over my shoulder to see the man I’m sure Cindy has bragged about endlessly to my mother. My stomach threatens to fall out of my ass when my eyes take in the man walking through the restaurant with a good looking black man hot on his heels. Of all times for me to run into one of my hookups it has to be when I’m about to meet a potential suitor. To my surprise, the black man greets a woman seated at a table near the door while the man whose bed I’d rolled out of less than twelve hours ago continues strutting towards us.

Now I barely made it through biology in college but…Cindy and Andrew are most definitely African-American like my own parents. I distinctly remember Hoseok mentioning last night when we were talking at the bar that he was from South Korea. As I watch him hug Cindy’s petite frame close lovingly, calling her mom, I come to the conclusion that he must have left out the part about him being adopted. My parents show absolutely no sign of the shock that’s coursing through me so apparently, I was the only one left out of the loop here.

Hoseok introduces himself to my parents before seemingly making a single white rose appear out of thin air. The mischievous glint in his eyes as he holds the rose out to me makes my heart skip a beat. The smile on his face is rated PG but the way he looks at me as he lifts my left hand to his lips suggests a hunger that could never be satisfied by food. My breath hitches as my mind reminds me of how those very lips had made a meal of me last night.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Aleecia.” I don’t miss his enunciation of the word pleasure in the slightest and it’s obvious that he intended to give it a double meaning only I would pick up on. Cocky fucker.

“Likewise, Hoseok.” He pulls my chair out for me before taking the only empty seat left at the table which of course is the one next to me. This is going to be a long brunch.

My assumption on brunch dragging on could not have been more correct. It seemed like I would never be able to escape from that table. Both sets of parents kept asking leading questions in a poorly veiled attempt to show that Hoseok and I have a lot in common which we do. However, my rules are my rules. I’ve taken a ride on his rollercoaster once and, as great as it was, I don’t plan on lining back up for it.

“Well this has been great but I need to get going.” I gather my things, kissing my parents on the cheek hastily as I try to extricate myself from this weird situation.

“Wait, I’ll walk you to your car.” The strength of my ancestors is the only thing that keeps me from openly scowling at his offer. Our respective mothers on the other hand look down right delighted at us getting some one-on-one time together. If only they knew just how close the two of us had gotten back at his apartment.

Hoseok has the audacity to put his hand on the small of my back as he holds the door of the restaurant open for me to pass through. He’s practically vibrating with barely restrained laughter as we walk towards my car. It soon becomes too much for him to hold back and the dam of laughter breaks. He cackles like a hyena, clapping his hands together animatedly. I wanna smack him but he looks so cute that it’s hard to follow through on my devious thoughts of violence.

“So this is the thing you had to do today?” He questions as he tries to get his breathing under control. He’s still chuckling lowly though and my left hand itches with the urge to smack him.

“Shut up. It’s not funny.” I stomp my foot like a child that didn’t get the toy they wanted. He simply leans back against my car that we’ve finally reached.

“I don’t know, babe.” The sly grin that had initially attracted me to him graces his features as he looks me up and down, licking his lips. “It’s pretty damn hilarious from where I stand. If I’d known this was going to happen I wouldn’t have let you leave my bed so soon.”

The implications of his words sends a shudder through me. My mind races with all the possibilities the statement could entail and each thought makes the damp spot that’s starting to form in my panties to grow exponentially. I cross my arms across my chest as if that’ll protect me but I only succeed in drawing his attention to my chest.

“You’re impossible.” I mutter almost to myself to which he shrugs his shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me you were adopted?”

“I don’t make a habit of telling hookups my life story.” He cocks one perfectly groomed eyebrows before he continues. “Although if you’d like to turn that one night into two I’m totally game. You looked so pretty under me last night.”

“And that’s my cue to leave.” He falls into a fit of giggles once more as I shove him away from my car.

“See you soon, Aleecia.” He winks at me before turning to walk back towards the restaurant.

Not likely bub.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite financial analyst.” The sound of that all too familiar voice has my fingers freezing above my keyboard. My eyes remain glued to the email I’m typing to my friend in HR as I count backwards from ten hoping that I’m just hearing things. It’s been three days since that god forsaken Sunday brunch and entirely too soon to be having another run in with the devil’s protégée.

“Ignoring people is very rude, Aleecia.” The arrogance in his voice as he flops down in one of the leather chairs across from my desk makes my hand itch to smack him again.

I finally look over my screen at him, not surprised to see him wearing a shit eating grin. I am surprised by how well he’s wearing the obviously tailor made white button up and navy slacks. A man in a suit has always been my weakness and I can already feel my defenses crumbling at the sight of Hoseok in his. I find myself drawing my bottom lip between my teeth as I take him in. Before I say something I know I’ll regret, I reach forward and press the speed dial number for my secretary Cedric.

“Yes, Ms. Hartford?” He answers mere seconds later.

“Ced, why is there an unscheduled visitor in my office?” Hoseok snorts, rolling his eyes when I glare at him.

“I’m sorry Ms. Hartford. It won’t happen again.” He responds without excuses.

“Thank you.” I turn my attention to the intruder, giving him the full force of my “Elsa” glare as my colleagues refer to the icy stare that’s brought many a foe to their knees. Hoseok on the other hand seems wholly unaffected.

“Don’t be so hard on him. I’m known to be a smooth talker.” He informs me smugly. “It’s why I’m so good at what I do.”

“Is that so?”

“It worked on you, didn’t it? Or was it my boyish good looks that sealed the deal for you?” He’s got me there. Hoseok has game that I can’t deny as much as I’d like to.

“Why are you here?” The smile on his face lets me know that he’s well aware of me avoiding answering his question but fortunately he gives me a pass.

“Your mother kindly informed me that you’re free for lunch today and what a coincidence so am I.” I arch an eyebrow at him. My mother’s sudden cancellation of our lunch date today is making a lot more sense now.

“And what makes you think I’d want to have lunch with you, Hoseok.” I rest my chin in the palm of my hand as I observe him. He seems entirely too at ease with the situation our mothers have placed us in and it’s bothersome.

“I’m buying that’s why.” He responds matter of factly. I have to admit that the thought of free food sweetens the pot deliciously but, considering our circumstances, I know I have to decline. A ping comes through signaling that Rian, my HR friend, has sent me a follow-up email to the one I’d been interrupted trying to respond to.

Rian Draughan: Aleecia do you want to do lunch or not? I’m starving and you’ve had me waiting forever. Stop torturing me and my stomach.

Saved by the bell, well, email in this case. I’ll have to pay for my own food but it’ll be worth it if I can thwart my mother’s dastardly plans.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” I say to Hoseok in the sweetest voice I can manage. “I made replacement lunch plans after my mother cancelled on me.” He searches my face shrewdly looking for any hint of a lie. It’s then I’m reminded that while Hoseok might be laid back and easy going he’s a force in his own right in the business world.

“Rain check?” He questions with the slightest hint of hope in his voice and I can’t wait to crush it.

“Don’t hold your breath on that one, buddy.” I reply as I lock my computer, reaching into my bottom drawer to grab my bag. “I don’t intend to give our mothers the satisfaction of getting what they want so if you would be so kind as to go along with my master plan it would be much appreciated.”

Hoseok tilts his head to the side as we face off in my office. The weight of his stare makes me shift from foot to foot. It’s almost as if I can feel his gaze cascading across my skin as he looks me over and heat pools in my lower stomach.

“I have another plan in mind and it involves a less avoidance and a lot more,” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his solid frame. “contact.”

My heart is beating frantically in my chest and for a second I’m worried that he might actually be able to hear it. I know that I should probably back out of his embrace but it’s as if my feet are glued to the floor.

The breath in my lungs rushes out when he leans in closer to me. My head lolls to the side almost on his own accord as he places gentle kisses along the column of my throat, ending at my ear. He pulls the lobe between his teeth and tugs softly. I never knew that was a turn on for me but the sudden gush of wetness between my thighs informs me that it is.

“I always get what I want, Aleecia.” He whispers in my ear. His voice is rough with desire and a shudder runs down my spine. He finally steps away from me with a satisfied smirk on his face. “I’ll see you soon, babe.”

Hoseok exits my office with one final wink and it feels like I can breathe again. I’ve never been with a man that was so in control of my body the way he is especially after just one night together. A night that was nearly a week ago. I decide then and there that this man is a demon who must be avoided.

When I step out into the small foyer outside my office, I’m not surprised to see Rian waiting for me. What is surprising is the smug look on her face. She looks like the cat that got the cream and my gut clenches in fear of the interrogation I’m surely in for during lunch.

“So, how good was the dick?” Rian asks as she daintily cuts into her stuffed chicken breast. I nearly choke on my water although I should’ve seen it coming. Rian and I have been friends since sophomore year of undergrad and we’ve always been super open about our sex lives with each other.

“It was life-changing.” I answer with a frustrated groan. “I almost considered breaking my rule for another night but my mother made sure I stuck to my guns.”

Rian arches a perfectly sculpted brow in question so I launch into my story about The Brunch. She listens intently, cackling when I get to Hoseok’s “grand entrance”. For a second, I’m sure she’s about to choke on a piece of broccoli as she tries to control herself.

“So, what are you gonna do, sis?” She asks around her chicken, serious for the first time since we sat down.

“I’m going to ignore him.” I answer before taking a sip of my water. “I let my mother meddle in my love life before and all it got me was chlamydia and five years of wasted time.”

Rian nods in concession to my statement. My ex-fiancée Derek had been my mother’s first foray at matchmaking and for a while I thought she had the golden touch. He was three years older than me, the son of one of the lawyers my mom played tennis with and already a senior in college when we first met. We became joined at the hip almost instantly. If you saw one of us the other wasn’t far away.

I was worried that we wouldn’t last after he’d graduated and taken a job at a law firm in the neighboring city but Derek had shown me that he was willing to do whatever was necessary to make our relationship work. Looking back, I should’ve seen the signs. After a routine check-up, I was able to see through the smokescreen of dazzling smiles and sweet nothings that had been my life. What hurt even more is that he hadn’t even been sorry. If anything, he was relieved that all of his secrets were finally out in the open so that he wouldn’t have to hide anymore.

Derek took five of the best years of my life and ever since then my view on love has been jaded. I gave a man my heart and thought I was getting his in return but it was all a bunch of lies wrapped up in a pretty bow. Never again will I let a man play me like that. Love doesn’t live at my address anymore.

“It’s been almost two years though. Don’t you think it’s time to get back out there in the dating world?” Rian asks curiously.

“Maybe one day,” I answer pensively. “but that day is not today.”

A deep sigh leaves my throat as I drop yet another bouquet of flowers into the garbage can next to my desk. It’s been a week since Hoseok’s surprise visit to my office and the flowers have been coming every day since. I almost feel bad throwing them away because I’m sure they cost him a pretty penny but there’s no way they can stay here.

My eyes start crossing up at 11 o’clock on the dot as usual which means it’s time to make my daily trip to the break room for a cup of caffeinated gold. Otherwise known as a giant cup mocha cappuccino with copious amounts of sugar and hazelnut creamer. I ask Cedric if he wants anything from the break room while I’m gone, nodding confirmation at his request for a donut.

On the way back to my office I notice my supervisor ahead of me walking next to another man with an artfully disheveled head of hair that looks much too familiar. My heart clenches when I watch them stride past all of the other doors on the hallway which means they can only be going one place, my office.

“Please, God no” I whisper to myself as I contemplate running away from the building entirely.

Cedric gives me a weak, knowing smile as he accepts his donut when I step into the foyer. Boisterous, male laughter erupts from my open office door, making me cringe. Ced gives me a thumbs-up for encouragement as I take a deep breath and steel myself to face the two men currently cackling in my office.

“Ah, there you are, Ms. Hartford.” My supervisor Mr. Branson stands to shake my hand after I shut my office door behind me. “This is Jung Hoseok. He’s on loan to us for the next few weeks for that audit project with Axis Banking that I was telling you about last month.”

A dreadful groan claws at my windpipe but I manage to choke it down. I’d been incredibly excited that my name had been picked to head this massive project with our sister bank but now I’d gladly accept death. Satan really doesn’t want me to prosper. My office is huge, one of the perks of it being the old office of our CEO before several floors were added to the building, so I’d foolishly offered to temporarily make room for the Axis rep so that we could work on the project together. The thought of being trapped in this office with Hoseok for hours upon hours makes my blood run hot for various reasons.

“I’ll leave you two to get to know each other a little bit before you get started tomorrow. The movers will bring in the necessary furniture and equipment so you’ll be ready to go in the morning.” Mr. Branson claps us both on the shoulder good-naturedly before dismissing himself.

“I take it roses aren’t your thing, huh.” My eyes go wide as I realize that he’s seen the bouquet peeking over the edge of my trash can. I open my mouth to respond but he stops me. “Don’t worry I expected a much worse outcome for those flowers if I’m honest. This just means you’re warming up to me.” I scowl at his megawatt smile and wish I’d dropped those damn flowers in the bin heading for the incinerator.

I take a long drag from my coffee and flop down in my chair. He walks around my desk to prop himself against it next to me, crossing his arms over his chest as he observes me casually. It takes me two tries to type my password in under the weight of his gaze. I don’t know how I’m going to survive working so closely with him over these next few weeks when I can barely handle him looking at me without flooding my panties and making a fool of myself.

“Did you know I was working on this project?” I ask, breaking the thick silence between us.

“Not until your boss brought me to your office.” He answers without hesitation and the look on his face makes me inclined to believe his words. Hoseok didn’t’ seem like the type to outright lie to me.

My hands creep up the sides of my neck to rub at the muscles there that suddenly feel tense. A gasp sounds through the air when Hoseok slaps my hands away and replaces them with his own. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud at the rush of pleasure that flows through me at the loosening of my stiff muscles. This man has magical hands although on some level I guess I already knew that about him.

I don’t realize just how into the massage I’ve gotten until the soft sound of his laughter makes me open my eyes, even though I don’t remember closing them, giving me a lovely view of his amused face. Embarrassment floods my system almost immediately as I roll my shoulders and roll my chair closer to my desk.

“See you in the morning then I guess.” I clear my throat and focus all of my attention on a stack of paperwork on my desk. He hums noncommittally, letting the tip of one of his fingers drag down my arm.

“See you soon, princess.” He lifts my hand to his lips when he reaches it. The feeling of his plush lips on my skin makes me long to feel those same lips all over me again. I curse internally when my door clicks softly behind him before practically diving for my phone.

“Rian, I have a problem.” I whisper the second she picks up her phone.

The darkest pair of sunglasses I own cover my eyes as I approach the front door of the building, waving at the security guards on my way to the bank of elevators. My stomach churns dangerously as I chug more of the coffee from the giant cup I’m nursing. Rian and I had a “game planning” session which basically means we drank excessive amounts of wine while she laughed at my current situation until we passed out on my couch. I woke up still slightly drunk this morning and contemplated skipping work but that wouldn’t look good on my part since Hoseok and I are to start this stupid project today.

My stomach lurches once more as I think about having to deal with him today and for the millionth time this morning I bristle with jealousy at the fact that Rian is comfortably lounging in my bed sleeping off of the rest of her drunkenness. Lucky HR bitch.

Cedric the Saint has a bacon and egg sandwich and a bottle of ibuprofen waiting for me as I’d desperately requested. My mouth waters at the smell of the meaty goodness as I graciously take the bag and pills from him.

Hoseok has beat me to the office unsurprisingly, lifting his eyebrow at my strange appearance as I flop down in my office chair. I immediately begin tearing into my sandwich, moaning unabashedly. I hear Hoseok choke on air off to my left but I can’t be bothered to care right now.

After devouring my sandwich and popping a few pills, I finally feel ready to try and start my workday. I reach into my bag to grab my laptop so that I can plug it into the docking station on my desk only to come up empty. My head drops to my desk with a thud as I realize that I’ve left my laptop at home which means I have no computer unless I go back and get it.

“Rough morning?” Hoseok asks and he sounds much closer than he should. I simply nod, not bothering to lift my head from its current position.

“Come on,” he says as he slowly spins my chair to face him. “What’s wrong?” he grasps my chin gently, tilting my drooping head up to look at him. It’s unfair how pretty he looks so early in the morning.

“I forgot my laptop.” I mumble out, looking everywhere but at him. I’m almost surprised when he releases my face from his grasp. The sight of him pulling a set of car keys from his pocket as he makes his way towards my office door definitely catches me off guard.

“Well, do you want your laptop or not?” He questions from the now open door to my office. I nearly trip over myself trying to get to him.

“You’re a fucking lifesaver.” Before I can stop myself, I peck his cheek once I’ve caught up to him at the doorway. This time it’s his turn to freeze as I move past him. A huff of laughter escapes me at the red tint that blooms across his cheeks as he fights a smile. Working with Hoseok might not be so bad after all.

Twenty minutes later Hoseok is parking is sleek Audi in my driveway which isn’t something I’d ever imagined would happen. I waste no time unbuckling myself and making a mad dash for my front door. The keys to my own car are next to my charging laptop on my nightstand where I’d dumped them the previous night. I grab both items, smacking a still sleeping Rian on the ass to annoy her before leaving my humble abode once more. Hoseok rolls his window down when I approach the driver’s side of his car, eyeing my keys almost suspiciously.

“My headache is gone now so I’ll just dri-”

“Nope we’re doing dinner after work and then I’m bringing you home so get in.” As if on their own accord, my feet carry me around to the other side of the car.

“What makes you think I want to get dinner with you?” He glances in my directions fleetingly before backing out onto the street.

“Because you need it after a morning like this.” He responds almost immediately. “There’s no ulterior motive going on. I just feel like doing something nice for you.”

“Driving me to my house to get my computer isn’t doing something nice?”

“Who says a man can’t do more than one nice thing a day?” I nod once in agreement with his point, spending the rest of the ride back to the office staring out at the city.

Working with Hoseok is surprisingly…efficient. I was fully anticipating wandering hands and suggestive innuendos, but when it comes to his work the man plays no games. The change in his demeanor is almost palpable as the smiley persona he normally exhibits fades in favor of the shrewd, calculating man that sits across from me.

“No one in their right minds would buy this shit. Who gave the okay on buying this dumpster fire?” He questions almost to himself as he goes over the financial reports from the company our parent corporation is trying to offload.

“I don’t know but the amount of short-term debt alone is making me sweat.” Hoseok quickly scrolls to the balance sheet, cursing to himself at the exorbitant figure listed.

“They should’ve audited this mess before they spent,” his jaw drops when he looks at the file in front of him at the purchase price “260 million dollars. They really spent that much money on this?” The incredulous expression on his face probably matches mine.

“We work for absolute idiots.” He whispers and I wholeheartedly nod in agreement.

After work, Hoseok makes good on his promise to take me out to dinner. We drive past numerous restaurants downtown and yet he stops at none of them. My brow furrows in confusion when Hoseok slots his car into a parking space at a rundown looking diner called Pete’s Place. It looks old enough to have served Benjamin Franklin but I cautiously follow behind Hoseok anyway. The promise of free food is much too good to pass out. I nearly salivate when he holds the door open for me allowing the smell of untold deliciousness to hit me in the face with the force of a bullet train. My attitude quickly changes as I hastily slide into the first empty booth I spot

An older woman in an apron with a dazzling smile comes over to our table, sitting an orange soda and small cup of lemon wedges in front of Hoseok before ruffling his already messy hair even more. I’m starting to get the feeling that he’s a bit of a regular here.

“Where ya been, kid?” She asks as she smacks away on a piece of gum. “Me and the girls have missed you around here.”

I see I was right about him being a regular.

“I haven’t been home in a while but I just took a job here in the city so I’m going to become a full-time pain in your ass again, Sher.” He gives her one of his trademark smiles, giggling as he dodges her hands when she swats at him.

“Stop being rude and introduce me to your girlfriend, Hopie.”

“I’m no-”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Sher.” Hoseok interrupts me, effectively communicating what I was going to say anyway. “Aleecia here just wants me for my body.” I kick my foot at him but he catches it as if he was expecting my foot to come flying out at him.

“Her loss.” Sher replies with a shrug of her shoulders before handing us a couple menus. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your orders.”

“You must want to die, Hopie.” I make sure to put sinister emphasis on the nickname Sher had called him but when a shudder visibly rolls down his spine I can tell it backfired.

“It sounds so hot when you say it.” I scoff, watching in disgust as he squeezes the lemon wedges into his soda before dropping them in.

“Where did that name even come from anyway?”

“Would you believe me if I said I had a short-lived rap career?” Never in a million years would I have imagined that the man sitting in front of me would have ever been a rapper. Maybe in some alternate universe but definitely not the one that I exist in.

“No way. Really?” I lean forward, resting my chin in my hands like a child. I’m thoroughly intrigued with the thought of the man across from me being a rapper.

“Yep, I called myself J-Hope.” He nods with a faint smile on his face as he busies himself with stirring his lemon wedges into his soda. A disgusting combination from my point of view but he seems satisfied with it.

“Can I listen to some of your music?” His head snaps up so fast I’m scared that he might injure himself.

“You-…I…you actually want to hear my music?” He seems genuinely dumbfounded that I’d ever be interested in hearing his raps.

“Yeah why not?” I answer as I finally pick up the menu in front of me to peruse my options.

For the first time since I met him, Hoseok is speechless. Sher saves him from floundering for a response when she returns to take our orders. He seems to have recovered by the time she walks away and returns with the sweet tea I’d ordered.

The conversation flows easily between us as we wait for our food although that was never an issue for us. As promised, the conversation never once veers in an inappropriate direction and the longer we sit here the more I wish that it would. I keep catching myself staring at the way his lips move as talks animatedly about a giant dog he’d seen at the park a few days ago and each time I have to damn near force myself to look away.

When our food arrives, it’s just as delicious as I expected it to be. My eyes roll skyward when I get a taste of the blueberry waffles I’d ordered. If not for the fact that there’s a decent amount of people in the diner I might’ve moaned out like I’d done in my office this morning.

“Good?” Hoseok asks on a laugh. He obviously already knows the answer but I humor him with a thumbs-up anyway as I rock happily in my seat.

When we get back into his car after dinner, Hoseok presses a few buttons on the radio until a calming beat diffuses out of the speakers. He looks so tense that I can only assume that this is one of his songs. My assumption is proven correct when I hear his voice through the speakers rapping in Korean.

“What’s this one called?” I ask curiously as I bob my head to the beat. Whatever it is it’s catchy as hell.

“It’s called Airplane.” He answers, scratching at the back of his head nervously. “It’s part of the mixtape I made my senior year of college. Figured I’d do it in Korean to reconnect with my roots ya know?”

I nod my head in understanding. Being able to connect with who you are culturally as someone adopted into a family so drastically different from the one you were born into was probably really big for him.

“Can you send me this? Like the whole mixtape?”

“Uhm yeah sure.”

I beat Hoseok to the office the next morning and seeing his face when he walks in on me singing along to another song from his mixtape was worth getting up twenty minutes early. His entire face turns red as he avoids any sort of eye contact with me on the way to his desk.

“Good morning, J-Hope.” I cackle at the way he cringes at his old moniker.

“I feed you and this is the thanks I get?” He asks ruefully as he crosses over to my side of the office. I quickly remind him that I did in fact thank him for dinner when he dropped me off at my house which he seems to have so conveniently forgotten. I also make it point to inform him that dinner doesn’t guarantee his safety from my taunting either. He hums out loud as he considers my answer for a moment.

“How about whoever gets to the office first gets immunity from teasing of any sort?” I suck in a dramatic breath as my brain comprehends his proposal. The smug grin on his face lets me know that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“That’s not a fair deal, Hoseok.” I narrow my eyes at him. Not only does he live closer to the downtown area and therefore closer to work, but I don’t believe in getting to work early while Hoseok believes in getting to the office 15 minutes ahead of everyone else like a demon. I know this is a deal I should refuse but I always did love a good challenge.

I groan internally when I open my office door the next morning to see Hoseok already seated at his desk.

“Good morning, Lee Lee. Did you sleep well?” His smile is turned up to sun-level intensity and it pisses me off.

“What the hell is a Lee Lee? My name is Aleecia.” I emphasize my name as I drop my bag onto my desk a little more aggressively than necessary. A scowl clouds my face as he gleefully tells me about the internal monologue he had with himself in the elevator about ways for us to better our working relationship to make the project run smoothly. Apparently, nicknames was step one so now I have the weekend to come up with something “cute” to call him as well and I want to shoot myself.

Dinner at Pete’s becomes a routine of sorts for us after that week. Step two in Hobi’s plan after the completion of the nickname phase. I loathed it at first simply because he’d suggested it but I’ll be damned if it didn’t actually work.

Every Thursday, one of us picks the other up from home and after work we claim “our” booth for dinner. The “tradition” continues even after we finish the audit project so now every Thursday is a race to see who can beat the other to the diner. Loser pays.

For the past two months since the project ended I haven’t had to pay for dinner once and today I feel like I might be dangerously close to losing my streak. My eyes dart to the bottom right corner of my computer screen every few seconds as I not so patiently wait for an important file to download. The second it’s done, I snatch my laptop from its docking station and unceremoniously shove it into my bag before running towards the door.

Traffic is a mess because that’s just my luck and at this point I’m positive that Hoseok is going to beat me. However, his familiar vehicle is nowhere to be found in the parking lot when I arrive. I check my phone to see if he’s texted me and it’s then I realize that I haven’t actually talked to him since yesterday which is weird considering that we’ve developed somewhat of as friendship over the past few months as a result of his plan and text regularly.

“Where the hell are you, Hoseok.” I whisper to myself as I press the call button under his name.

When he answers, I immediately know why he’s missing in action. The poor man sounds like microwaved death.

“Now I know why I’m at Pete’s by myself.” I say playfully.

“Fuck it’s Thursday.” He interrupts himself with a short coughing fit, sniffling before he continues. “I’m sorry, Lee Lee. I should’ve called” I have to stop myself from smiling like an idiot at the nickname that he’d created. I’ll never admit it but it’s grown on me.

“Don’t worry about it, Hobi. Have you eaten? Taken any medicine? Drank enough water?”

“Uhhh...no.”

“Ugh you men folk are absolutely defenseless. I’ll be there in an hour.” I drop my phone into the passenger seat before peeling out of the parking lot.

Exactly an hour later I’m punching in the elevator code to Hoseok’s penthouse apartment, both arms weighed down with bags. When I stroll out of the elevator into his foyer, he’s cocooned on his couch in several blankets fast asleep. I kick off my heels and put away the groceries as quietly as I can before heating up the soup I’d brought him. I cross the room to stand over him, setting the soup and a box of cold pills on the coffee table behind me. My heart melts a little at how small he looks tucked underneath the blankets.

“Hobi, Hobi, Hobi.” I repeatedly call his name while poking his cheek until he finally wakes.

“I hate you.”

“Uh huh sit up and eat some soup so you can take something.” I say as I rest the back of my hand against his clammy forehead. He definitely has a fever.

He begrudgingly follows my directions, glaring at me for interrupting his sleep the entire time. I pick up the bowl of soup and hold it out to him. He sniffs at it for a second as if he’s contemplating not eating but he eventually grabs the dish from my hands. I return to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. One of the few things he actually had in there other than the groceries that I’d just bought.

Hoseok drains the soup bowl in record time but absolutely refuses to let a single cold capsule pass between his lips. At one point I try to physically pry his jaw open just for him to bite me like a rabid dog.

“Fucking hell Hoseok just take the damn medicine so I can go home.” I screech as I lunge for his face again, attempting to catch him off guard. He grunts out his disapproval against my hand as he struggles beneath me before rolling onto his stomach.

“I don’t need pills.” He yells into the fabric of his comforter. “My white blood cells are fierce warriors and don’t need any help!”

I take a deep breath and remove myself from his back and stomp loudly to the kitchen. I slam a few cabinet doors and grumble to give him false hope before tip-toeing behind the couch. The second he raises his head to look around, I pounce.

“Gotcha, fucker.” I announce triumphantly as I finally get the pills in his mouth, clapping my hand over his lips to make sure he doesn’t spit them out. “Swallow. Now. You owe me dinner so you need to get better.”

He glares at me but I watch his throat bob twice as he struggles to swallow the pills down dry.

“That was horrible.”

“Well you could’ve had water if you weren’t such a child about it.” I announce as I retreat to the kitchen to get a bottle of water for myself. Fighting with this errant man child has left me quite parched.

“I demand cuddles and a kiss for this disrespect.” Water nearly spews out of my mouth at his outlandish request.

“Are you high? Drunk? Both?” I question incredulously as I fight not to choke to death on my own shock.

“No, what I am is lonely.” He pouts. “Please Leecia just cuddle with me.” He grabs one of my hands and attempts to pull me down onto the couch with him. Sure, I consider Hoseok a friend but the only friend I’ve ever cuddled with is Rian and he’s nowhere near Rian’s platinum friendship level at all.

On top of that my mother’s face keeps floating around in my head. She’d probably love nothing more than for the two of us to cuddle on this couch into the wee morning hours. Giving into Hoseok means giving into my mother and that’s just not something I can do so I steel the resolve his begging had begun to weaken and pull my hand from his grasp.

“I think I need to go now. I can’t do this.” I mumble and make a bee line for the door. I’ve got one heel back on when Hoseok speaks up.

“Why did you go to brunch that day if you didn’t want to be in a relationship?” He asks in such a small voice that I almost don’t hear him. “Or is it you don’t want to be in a relationship with me?” He tacks on almost as an afterthought.

The look on his face reminds me of a wounded puppy and I find myself genuinely upset at the fact that I’m the cause of it. I take my shoe back off before padding back over to him, plopping down onto the couch next to him.

“What’s the correlation to that godforsaken brunch and us being in a relationship?”

He explains to me how he was under the impression that I knew exactly what the purpose of that ironic get together was and had been in full support of it. Apparently, my darling mother had pulled out all of the stops for this meeting and told him that I was looking to finally settle down and anxiously anticipated meeting Hoseok. He’d never seen a picture of me which is why he didn’t put two and two together that night in the bar plus the amount of alcohol in his system made it seem like a perfect coincidence that his last hoorah would be with a woman by the same name as me.

I wish I could say I’m surprised by all this but it’s not all that out of character for my mom to try something this sneaky to get what she wants. It’s probably why she made such a good defense lawyer back when she still practiced. She has no qualms about being underhanded to achieve her goals.

“Hoseok I-” I open and close my mouth a few times as I try to be as tactful as possible. “I had no idea that my mother was trying to set the two of us up. She’s tried playing matchmaker once before and it nearly ruined me so if I’d know what she was up to I probably wouldn’t have shown up at all.”

I take a deep breath and recount the horror story that is my ex-boyfriend. He listens intently. Not interrupting one which is honestly a bit surprising. When I conclude my tale, I actually feel lighter. This is the first time I’ve told anyone other than Rian exactly what happened between Derek and I all that time ago. My own parents don’t even know the full story. For a long while we just sit in silence as Hoseok figures out a way to respond.

“That dude is an asshole.” He finally speaks, wiping at the couple of tears that I hadn’t even realize had started to fall. “Doing that to anyone, you especially, should be considered a crime against God and nature.” A small laugh escapes me as I reach for the box of tissues he has on the coffee table.

“Yeah well it’s over and now I’m pulling a Maxine Waters and reclaiming my time the only way I know how.” I shrug my shoulders, laying my head on his shoulder when he pulls me into him for a much needed hug.

“Is that where your rules come from?” I nod yes and I feel rather than hear the sigh he lets out at my confirmation. “I think you should go now.” My head jerks up so fast it’s a wonder that I don’t give myself whiplash.

“You want me to leave? Why?”

“Because now that I’ve got you in my arms again I don’t think I’ll ever let go.” He starts. “I think I started falling for you from all the stories I heard about you, but actually meeting you and knowing you? I’m in deep, Lee Lee, but I know this isn’t what you want right now.”

My heart nearly seizes up at the raw emotion laid out on his face. His eyes are full of a longing and desire that has me choking back a sob. I throw my arms around his neck haphazardly, holding him as tight as I can. He sniffles a little against my neck. A damp feeling against my skin tells me it’s not from his cold.

I pull back to look him in the face once more, letting my eyes scan every inch of his face. One of my hands cups his jaw while the other rests against his collarbone. I’m not sure who leans in first but I soon find my lips pressed against Hoseok’s and for a split second I freeze up. I haven’t kissed this man since that one fateful night when he entered my life in more ways than one. Now, totally sober and in control of my impulses, I don’t recoil from him as I’d expected to. The restrictions I’d worked hard to maintain on our relationship to keep it platonic crumble and fall like the Berlin Wall. Our lips continue to move softly against each other when I more pressing thought comes rushing to the forefront of my consciousness.

I’m going to get so sick.

Thoughts of congestion and a runny nose are pushed to the back of my mind when Hoseok runs his tongue across the seam of my closed lips. A tortured groan sounds from deep in his chest as I finally grant him total access to my mouth. Hoseok detangles himself from the pile of blankets he’d buried himself under to pull me into his lap. His hands slide up my thighs to my ass as he pushes my dress up past my hips. He grabs and squeezes at the supple cheeks of my ass while he forces my hips to rock back and forth over the tent in his sweatpants.

“Please let me inside you.” He pleads against my skin as his mouth travels down the column of my neck. “Let me make you feel good.”

I nod my consent, shivering when his hands ghost up my back to grasp the zipper on my dress. My breath hitches in my throat as he eases it down. A muffled curse falls from his lips when I pull my arms from the sleeves to reveal the pale yellow lace of my bra.

“Please tell me your panties match.” He groans, eyes never leaving my heaving chest. I smirk mischievously before removing myself from his lap.

I turn my back to him once I’m standing between his outstretched legs. I tease him a little by raising and lowering before finally bending at the waist to lower the little black dress down my legs. An audible gasp followed by a low moan comes from behind me as Hoseok takes in the sight of my matching lace panties.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Aleecia.” He whispers as he wraps his arms around me from behind, peppering kisses across whatever skin his lips can reach. His fingers walking along my spine is the only warning I get before my bra suddenly loosens around my torso.

He releases me to shove his sweatpants down his legs along with his boxers. His hard length rests against his lower stomach as he strokes it lazily with one hand. He reaches for me with his freehand to pull me back into his lap.

I slide my hands under his white t-shirt and hope he takes the hint that I want it gone. Fortunately, Hoseok is intuitive, yanking the fabric over his head and tossing it somewhere over my shoulder. I dip my head down and worship the tanned skin I can reach with my lips. The sound of his moans and groans in my ear makes a fresh wave of arousal wash over me.

Hoseok reaches between us to slide my drenched panties to the side to gain access to my soaked center. He circles my entrance before relocating to my engorged clit, working it in languidly as I grind against his hands.

“No more foreplay. I need you. Now.” I whisper into his ear as I pull his hand from between my legs.

Air whooshes out of his mouth as I slide my wet heat along his erection. He reaches down to line himself up with my entrance, head tossed back in pleasure as I begin my descent. I grasp my breasts in my hands, squeezing them together when my ass finally meets his thighs.

“Fuck, your pussy is so good.” He tilts his hips forward slightly which changes the angle in a way that has me clenching around him tightly. “That’s right, baby. Milk my cock.”

I start up a steady rhythm. Lifting and dropping my hips in his lap. Hoseok braces his feet on the floor to meet every downward stroke with an upward thrust of his own. It’s as if I’m constantly full of him. His very being seems to overwhelm me as he sucks a nipple into his eager mouth. He pinches and pulls at the other nipple with one hand before switching it up.

“More, Hobi.” I plead as I twist my fingers into his hair. “I need more.”

I’m not really sure what I’m begging for but Hoseok definitely seems to know. He releases my nipple with a pop to latch onto my ass. He spreads and squeezes the flesh there as he lifts me up before pulling me back down, forcing my hips to roll forward before doing it all over again. I can feel the knot in my lower stomach tightening to near bursting levels as I bite down on his shoulder.

“Soak my dick, baby. Wanna feel you cum around me.” His husky voice in my ear is all I need to push me over the edge. Every muscle in my body feels like it’s seizing up as lighting bolts of pleasure shoot down my nerve endings.

Hoseok lifts me off of him just in time to cover my abdomen in his release. His chest is heaving as he reattaches his lips to mine for a brief kiss. My eyes drift down to the mess on my stomach. I run a finger through the white strings before bringing it to my lips to sample his release. It’s bitter as expected but there’s a slight sweetness to it that takes the edge off that’s so uniquely him.

“That was the hottest shit ever.” He muses with a goofy smile on his face.

Hoseok and I make love late into the night. Taking our time exploring each other’s bodies and figuring out what makes the other tick the fastest. It’s no surprise when I wake the next morning sniffling just like the man to my left

After calling Cedric and letting him know that I won’t be coming into the office, I resign myself to spending all day in bed with Hoseok. We’re five episodes into the second season of Grey’s Anatomy, according to Hoseok it’s blasphemous that I haven’t seen it, when something one of the characters said triggers a thought in my congested head.

“If you were so set on being with me before we even met, why were you trolling for a hook up in that dirty ass bar?” I ask, feeling some type of way the more I think about it.

“I wasn’t trolling for a hookup as you so eloquently put it.” He answers after blowing his nose. “I wasn’t planning to sleep with anyone at all. A few of my friends from college came into town so we were reliving our glory days of getting trashed and singing bad karaoke.”

“But you still went home with me though.” He nods in concession to my point.

“I don’t know. I just remember seeing you walk in and just feeling drawn to you like a magnet. When you told me your name was Aleecia, my drunk ass probably thought it was a positive sign from God since I’m getting set up with someone who has the same name.”

I ponder his statement for a moment. “That’s dumb.”

“Men aren’t smart creatures. Alcohol just makes it worse.” We stare at each other for a second before dissolving into a fit of laughter. It gets cut short by us hacking our lungs out but the sentiment still stands.

“I know I probably seem like jackass for sleeping with someone the day I was supposed to meet you but the fact that it was you makes me feel like it truly was a sign.” He says soberly after we get ourselves back together.

“So why did you offer to take my number? You even asked to meet up again.” I point out with a raised brow.

“I was about to nut early so I was looking around trying to distract myself and I saw a notification on your phone reminding you about brunch at Le Chateau and I kinda just put two and two together.” He explains sheepishly.

I try to hide my laugh behind my hand but I can tell by the look on his face that I’m unsuccessful. “Don’t tell anyone else that story.”

“I won’t. I like my pride intact thank you very much.” He settles back down against the pillows to unwrap a throat lozenge, passing me one as well. I take in the small pout on his face as he fiddled with the wrapping and feel an ache in my chest.

“Fuck I’m really about to let my mom win.”

“You know, letting her win doesn’t mean that you lose.” He mumbles as he finally gets his throat lozenge unwrapped, popping it in is mouth.

“Yeah yeah yeah whatever, Plato. Are you my boyfriend or not?” I ask bluntly. Chucking a little when he nearly chokes to death on the lozenge.

“Yes! Shit, you can’t just say stuff like that without a warning. I’m sensitive.” I smile as I tuck my throat lozenge against my cheek. He pulls me over into his side of the bed so that my head is laying on his chest. His lips press against my forehead gently before grabbing the remote to rewind the show that we’d stopped paying attention to.

“You know it’s pill time right?” I ask with a grin on my face as his chest rumbles with a groan beneath me.

“This relationship already sucks.”

#btssmutclub #btsguild #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok #bts smut #hoseok smut #bts smut and fluff #jhope smut #jhope x reader

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kpopchangedme · 6 years

Text

라면 먹고 갈래

Jongup’s a bit clueless about how badly you want to take your relationship to the next level... Even after you invite him over “라면 먹고 갈래?”

Protagonists: Moon Jongup & You

Word Count: 5.7k

Genre: NSFW - *Smut* - Humour (hopefully) - Dating - Fluff - Coworker!AU - *swearing*

Lys’ note: Warning; this Fic features sex with Jongup, poor love advices by Daehyun & Himchan, an emphatic Youngjae and an exasperated intervention by a not so profesionnal Bang Yongguk. Enjoy.

M A S T E R L I S T

You drop behind your desk, holding to your usual coffee cup like it’s your lifesaver; because it kind of is. You glance at the clock.

8:40

Made it. Satisfied, you take a sip of the black beverage. As the bitter taste fills your mouth, you sigh, already feeling more alive. You didn’t get nearly enough sleep last night. Like in slow motion, Dalia inclines her chair to look in your cubicle. Meeting her inquiring eyes, you shrug.

“There’s no way you’re already here!” She looks at her phone for the time. “Jeez, here I was, hoping you’d be late because you got lucky.” Your co-worker shakes her head defeated and you roll your eyes back. “Don’t judge me, I’ve been living with my boyfriend for so long; your life’s the only excitement I have!”

“Wow, I bet Yuto would love to hear that!” You laugh, curving an eyebrow. As far as you know her couple life’s way more exciting than your single dating one.

“So, what happened?” She ignores your comment to directly start her interrogation. “Was he as boringly perfect as always?”

“Hey, Jongup’s not boring!” You frown.

“Whatever suits you darling. What was he wearing? Give me details.”

“A white tee and black jeans?” She rolls her eyes. “Wait, he also wore a leather jacket!”

“I meant underneath!” She pouts cutely. “Come on, give me something juicy to work with… Did you get your freak on?”

***

“The movie was great.” Jongup bounces excitedly, making you smile.

“You already said that! You even said that about the new Lara Croft!” You tease him by pushing his arm and he turns, walking backwards to look at you.

“Well, then it means seeing it with you made it extra great.” He winks and your legs stop working for a second, slowing you down. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing” You smile, catching up to him and he turns again to walk by your side. “I just like it when you say those things.”

“What things?” He’s facing forward now, hands buried in depth of the pockets of his jacket.

“You know which ones...” Jongup scoffs and you’re forced to admit; “Those cute things you say to me, it makes my heart flutter.”

“I know”, he smirks, “that’s why I say them… Because I like you.”

When you glance his way, you see that he’s smiling dumbly, ears a dark shade of red. So far Jongup’s perfect. He’s funny, kind and caring. Tonight, marks the debut of your third month of dating, well – of seeing each other casually. You’re not sure you can call it dating if there hasn’t been any physical development yet. You are trying as much as you can to not think of it as slightly weird... But it’s starting to get hard.

You gave him so many hints, opportunities he didn’t take, that you’d start to think he only sees you as a friend if he wasn’t so blunt about liking you. Your co-worker even joked about him not being interested in you in a physical way. However, you already studied that possibility and you’re pretty sure that’s not it. Jongup looks at you like he wants you. Sometimes, you see him glancing at the buttons of your blouse or catch him liking his lips when his eyes trace the curve of your thighs, but it always stops there. He never tries anything.

He hasn’t even properly kissed you yet and it’s slowly making you lose your mind. His lips were all you could think about during the movie. Hey, at least he thought those platonic two hours in the dark with you were great. Wow, awesome.

Tonight, he better be planning on making a move, because you’re done waiting.

“Well, I’m not sure if I like you, yet...” You say this to tease him, but it’s his turn to pause his walking, legs turning heavy. “You know, I think I might need some convincing…”

“Yah, don’t play with me!” He shakes his head with a relieved smile, not minding your underlying intentions. “Let’s hurry, I want to take you home before it turns dark.”

“Jongup, maybe... I don’t want to go back home?” You slide your right hand in his pocket, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Why?” He looks at your arm, taken aback. “Do you want to grab coffee?”

Tonight, it doesn’t matter how clueless he is; you’ll be the one to make the first move if you must.

***

“NO WAY!” Dalia almost yells and the guy in the cubicle next to yours shushes, annoyed. “Tell me that he didn’t actually take you to a coffee shop!”

“He did.” You laugh, shaking your head. “He bought us coffee to go; I needed to be home before it was dark, you know.” It’s her turn to laugh this time, making sure she keeps it at a decent level of decibels.

“Why always before sunset, by the way?” She pauses. “Is he like a… reverse vampire or something?”

“No, it’s for safety; the lampposts near my place are all burned out.” Her smile twitches slightly. “It’s because I said once that my street’s a bit scary after dark.”

“Wow, my heart almost fluttered... I was jealous for a second...” She grabs her chest theatrically. “But then I remember you haven’t gotten any for mooooonths and it cured me!”

“Shut up!”

***

“Thanks for the coffee…” You dance from one foot to the other, suddenly anxious. Jongup nods at the door leading to your building, like to motion you to go inside. The light has decreased dramatically during the 15 minutes’ walk to your place, stretching shadows down your street. You’re standing in front of each other, him waiting for you to go inside and you, looking up, waiting – craving for anything to happen.

“You should go inside I don’t want you to catch a cold…” He smiles brightly, staring down back at you. His eyes crease, turning to little crescents and you get closer. So much so, that your bodies are almost touching each other, you draw nearer until the coffee cups are the only thing separating your chest from his. Jongup’s eyes flutter to your lips and you lick them expectantly. The moment seems to last forever, but still… He doesn’t budge.

“L-let me hold that so you can grab your keys!” Ruining the moment, he takes the half empty coffee cup from between your fingers and you let him do it. You just stare in awe.

“Jongup?” Swallowing, he raises his irises to meet yours.

“H-hum?”

“If you don’t want me to get cold, why don’t you warm me up?”

“W-what! Would you like me to?” You start to giggle but immediately feel bad when you see him bite his lips out of nervousness.

“Yes. Yes, very much.” He’s still holding the coffee cups between your bodies making it impossible for you to get closer. So, slowly, you slide your hands up to his shoulders and get on your tiptoes. “Can I kiss you?”

His face is so close to yours now, that you can see every single one of his eyelashes when he blinks, only proof that he hasn’t turned to stone. Instead of answering, he gently lowers his head to meet yours.

When your lips crash, it’s as though he forgets himself, or maybe he simply stops holding back. He mercilessly drops the coffees on the floor to wrap his arms and hold you against his chest. The kiss is nothing like you would have expected from his previous behaviour, Jongup slides his fingers to your chin to tilt it and allow himself better access. You feel his tongue tease your lips and you open your mouth, eager to taste him. The kiss is needy and passionate, totally different than his more reserved and traditional dating style but you’re far from complaining. You lean against the brick gate for support and he follows, melting against you. Your hands get lost in his hair – you can’t believe this is happening after weeks of dreaming of it. The bricks are cold against your back and you shudder lightly, although you’re pretty sure it’s simply Jongup’s effect. Immediately, his attitude shifts again – he stops sucking on your lower lip and pulls away.

“I don’t seem to be warming you enough”, he laughs embarrassed. You try to pull him back into you, but he grabs your hands in his. Bringing them to his mouth, he blows his hot breath on your fingers, inadvertently turning you even more on.

“Gup–” You let out a deep sigh, partly to organize your thoughts, but also for dramatic purposes. “wanna eat ramen before you go?”

His eyebrows shoot up and he blinks twice, lips parting but words not coming out.

***

“What did you say?! What did you do?” Himchan’s voice is calm, but his curiosity is almost tangible.

“Hey! Don’t ask dirty stuff like that.” Their co-worker Daehyun smiles proudly and slaps the young man’s chest. “Jongup scored! The man! The Legend!”

“Here I was, believing you were trying to act all mature!” Himchan rolls his eyes with fake exasperation.

“I offered to cook it–” Jongup answers the question, ignoring the rest of his hyungs’ exchange.

“Good move”, Daehyun approves and the other nods as though they’re omniscient. “Ladies love men who cook!”

“–but she actually didn’t have any ramen at home!”

“She didn’t!? Ha, she’s something els– I mean she’s funny!” Daehyun laughs but understanding draws itself on the other friend’s face.

“So, what did you do next, Gup?” Himchan tenses, the underlying meaning of his earlier question completely changed.

“Well, I started to put my shoes on to go to the convenience store and she got angry at me!” The men fall silent, stunned by his words, and he rubs his temples, tired. “That’s why I’m telling you all this… Guys, why are girls so com–”

“For fuck sakes, you know what she meant when she invited you in for ramen...” Daehyun’s the first one to open his mouth passed the initial shock. “Right?”

“Yes!” Jongup bites his lips, embarrassed by the idea and avoiding looking directly at his hyungs. “It’s just that I thought she also really wanted to eat befo–”

Himchan calmly cuts him off, “And you guys haven’t done anything yet?”.

“We kissed yesterday, we are just beginning… I want it to be serious…”

“Yesterday?! I think two whole months’ a long time for a lot of people.” Daehyun wrinkles his nose, uncertain.

Himchan nods, pursuing the instigation. “Did you guys talk about…it?” He pauses for a second, frowning. “After she calmed down?”

“No, I left! I didn’t want her to think I was pressuring her to do anything! I gave her space because she was so mad, but I don’t get why!”

“Oh – Jongup, I think she got frustrated because she doesn’t want that much space.” The oldest silently nods again, approving Daehyun’s take on the whole drama. “I think she’s mad because she thought you didn’t want to… Well, get ramen.”

“You think?” Jongup looks mortified by the idea. “She got mad because I didn’t want to be with her? I mean, I think I made it clear that I really wan–”

“Look, we don’t know why girls are like that.” Daehyun shrugs, interrupting him. “They won’t tell you directly, but they love ramen just as much as we–”

“Hey, I know why they act like that; society.” Himchan slaps his friend’s shoulder. “Daehyun’s right, I have a lot of girlfriends–” The other snorts at this, amused, and earns himself a threatening glare. “Friends-that-are-women, and ramen is all they ever talk about! Some want it even more than I do!” Dae starts to tease his hyung about it being impossible, but the younger one ignores their bickering.

“That’s a crazy reason to get mad...” Jongup hesitates. “Are you sure?”

“YES!” Daehyun’s borderline annoyed, now. “She loves ramen – you love ramen too! She’s craving to have ramen with you so badly it’s making her crazy angry! You want to have some with her too! Dude – please just give the girl amazing ramen already!” Himchan bursts out laughing, covering his mouth with his hand.

“So, I should text her then?” Jongup smiles, amused by Daehyun’s analogy.

Somewhere behind the three friends, somebody sighs loudly, the sound deep and exasperated.

Bang Yongguk rolls back his chair to glare at them.

“You guys all need to get laid, the sooner the better. It’s not even lunchtime and now I’m hungry.” He points at Jongup with his index. “You are really stupid. Text her right now – be clear – even better – be explicit. Ask to see her, have sex all ni– ” He corrects himself quickly. “Have some really really good – very safe sex – and tomorrow let me fucking work in peace!”

***

You’re stuck in a morning meeting when your phone starts to vibrate in the depth of your pocket. Non-stop. You keep glancing at the clock, wondering about who could be texting you so much and about what. You almost haven’t slept because you felt bad for turning on Jongup last night. You should have just told him clearly what you wanted instead of getting mad. That’s what Dalia recommended after you told her everything earlier, but you already figured that much the minute he left. You intend to talk things over with him, maybe tonight. You shouldn’t wait, Jongup isn’t the kind of guy you should let slip out of your life over something silly like that; he’s perfect for you. Even if he can’t seem to get a clue about how badly you want him, you hide your smile by biting your pen.

You look at the digital clock on the wall once again; it's ten minutes past the scheduled end of the meeting, but some guy from the creative team just keeps the conversation going. It’s almost lunchtime, you sigh, inadvertently catching his attention.

“Ah! I’m sorry y/n!” He looks at the clock, finally realizing the time. “I bet you have lunch plans!” He winks at you, claiming the meeting is officially adjourned.

You’re curious as to why you’re on first name basis with a colleague whom you’ve totally forgotten his name but brush it off, eager to leave. As soon as your ass hit the chair behind your desk, you look at your phone.

11:50AM. 10 new messages.

10 texts?! You look around to see if someone is near to make fun of your loud gasp, but thankfully nobody’s there. They probably all left for lunch already. Anxious, you tap the text app icon.

Moon Jongup: Good morning ^^ [10:06AM]

Moon Jongup: How’s your day so far? [10:09AM]

Moon Jongup: The 34th floor got lucky, because the boss is off sick. So we plan to just chill and sip coffee all day! 😈 [10:11AM]

You can’t help but smile dumbly at his messages. He doesn’t seem angry at you about yesterday, a relief!

Moon Jongup: To be clear, I meant TS’ director, not my team’s supervisor... My desk is close to Yongguk, he’s chill. [10:20AM]

You snort, both of those men are scary as hell to you.

Moon Jongup: Look, I’m so sorry about the misunderstanding yesterday… [10:40AM]

Moon Jongup: I wanna make it up to you. Do you want to come over for ramen tonight? My roommate won’t be there. [10:40AM]

Moon Jongup: Don’t worry no ramen involved whatosever. [10:55AM]

Moon Jongup: *Whatsoever. That came off so rude, I’m sorry!!! Please forget I sent you that!!! [11:10AM]

Moon Jongup: I also can cook you some real noodles if you want to! [11:20AM]

Moon Jongup: Or if you are uncomfortable coming over, it’s fine! I completely understand! :) [11:28AM]

Beaming, you start to type back, spinning around on your chair. It started off real nice, but Jongup appears to have panicked a bit in the end due to your lack of response. Weirdly entertained by this, you answer in a similar fashion.

Y/N: Ok, wow. Good morning to you too 🙃 I’ll try to answer all that! [11:55AM]

Moon Jongup: OMG I’m sooooo sorry I spammed you!!!!! Just forget it!!! 😅😅😅 [11:55AM]

Y/N: About my day: I’m a bit tired and I just got out of a project’s weekly meeting. The creative guy from your team wouldn’t stop talking… I just wanted to get the hell out already, lol. [11:56AM]

Y/N: About that “chill” Yongguk guy... The last time I spoke to him was during my training period and he traumatized me with endless speeches about professionalism! [11:57AM]

Moon Jongup: I’m sorry about Youngjae, he never shuts up with us either. Also, Yongguk’s human like all of us. Today, he’s faking to work by playing Mahjong on his PC! Very professional of him! (Don’t tell him I said that) [12:00PM]

Y/N: About yesterday: I apologize, I shouldn’t have reacted like that. [12:01PM]

Y/N: About the ramen proposition: YES!!!! Thank God! (no ramen involved whatsoever) [12:02PM]

Y/N: Mmm… maybe you can cook too, I do enjoy actual late-night ramen [12:03PM]

Moon Jongup: Meet you in the lobby after work? :D [12:03PM]

***

“It’s the funniest thing, really.” Jongup kicks off his shoes and helps you out of your coat, not stopping a second his babbling. “Daehyun suddenly got a call from his mother to help at home and said he was going to stay the ni–”

“Jongup.” You interrupt him, leisurely leaning against the corner of his kitchen counter. He helped you inside only a few seconds ago, but you’re already comfortable; slippers on and racy thoughts filling your mind. He’s all you’ve been thinking about all day. He stops his lame explanation and you jump to sit on the edge of the counter. “I really don’t care about your roommate...”

You watch him gulp in anticipation as he gets closer to gently peck your lips. The kiss is short and sweet, nothing like the one from the night before who was full of passion. His hands rest on your thighs, spread wide to make space for his body. He doesn’t seem to notice you’re wearing a miniskirt and giving him access to everything that’s underneath. His fingers stay frustratingly still – ever so polite. This is annoying, he knows why you’re here. At the same time, his renewed reserve almost feels like a challenge.

“It’s 6pm, do you want to eat?”, he stills, glancing at the coffee machine clock, seemingly hovering over possibilities. He could be dying from starvation and you wouldn’t care right now, you both can eat afterwards.

“Gup, are we having that conversation again?” Raising an eyebrow cockily, you hook two fingers in the hem of his pants, keeping him prisoner between your thighs. You lean into his chest, looking up at him lustfully. “Because I don’t feel like talking right no–” Without waiting for you to finish your sentence, Jongup crashes his lips on yours.

Like last night, this kiss is needy and harsh. He uses one of his hands to support himself on the counter and the other one is in your hair, pressing you against him. You close your legs around him and moan in his mouth. He doesn’t stop and keeps claiming you, nipping and playing with your tongue. When he tears himself away, you’re both panting, even more aroused than you ever thought possible by a simple kiss.

“I’m hungry…” He sighs and clicks his tongue suggestively, letting you know what he’s craving exactly. You smile, dumbfounded by his sudden shift of personality. “Do you want to take this to my room?”

On the way to the dim-lit bedroom, you somehow lose your skirt, blouse and bra, leaving you in black lacy panties and tights of the same color. When you reach his bed, shaking from anticipation, your sit and watch as Jongup struggles with the buttons of his shirt. He freezes when an amused chuckle escapes you and turns to glare at you, finally getting rid of the clothing.

“Something funny?”

“Nothing, I was just–” He pecks your lips before resuming his fight against his work pants with a frown. “–Enjoying this inspiring impromptu striptease.”

“This is part of the thrill of being with me.” He says that and jumps two times, making you wonder if he’s taking his pants off or pulling them up. “I’ve been told I’m kinda entertaining!” You laugh and he grins proudly, glad to share this moment with you.

“Yeah, you’re a multi-faceted man, Moon Jongup.” You bite your lips when he finally succeeds and is left simply in his briefs.

“What do you mean?” He comes to a stop in front of you, cupping your face to delicately peck your lips again.

“I’m discovering new sides of you every day…” You slide your hands up his thighs to his ass and he closes his eyes at the touch, goosebumps spreading on his chest. “I like this sexy side… What took you so long?”

“If I was advertising this…” He joins you on the bed, sitting behind you and cautiously sliding the strap of your bra with his thumb.

“I’d never be left alone…” Jongup traces the line of your neck with small kisses, making you shiver.

“I am a well-kept secret.” His left hand slips between your thighs, rubbing your wet underwear. His broken speech is the sexiest thing you’ve heard in a while and your roll your hips forward, meeting his hand.

“Otherwise, I’d never know if the lady is in it for awkward me... or my amazing body…”

You scoff at his joke and he bites down your neck, playful. For a second, your thoughts fly in direction of Dalia, she always jokes calling him blah, she’s way off. Jongup’s hand strokes your core diligently, keeping it very interesting and bringing you back to reality. You hold on to his forearm and fist the sheets with your free hand.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Jongup murmurs in your ear, voice made slightly unstable by desire. “I’ve never seen anything hotter than you, here – in only those tights…” He groans, sucking on your earlobe. “Do you want me to take them off for you?”

You nod and climb on the bed, letting his hands explore your legs up thoroughly before he reaches to slide the tights and your panties off. He does so in slow-motion, breathing heavily and you must use all your remaining self-control to not throw yourself at him. He caresses the skin of your calves and pulls on the thin fabric delicately, taking an eternity to reach your ankles. When you can’t hold it in anymore, you tease him too, a light smug on your lips.

“You know, you’re weirdly good with tights… Way better than with your own clothes.” He grins, stealing your palm on his chest to press a light kiss in it.

“I want to take my time with you – but I also want you too damn much…” You laugh at the puppy eyes he gives you with his confession and raise on your knees to kiss him.

“I do appreciate the intention, but I also want you too much right now…” Your right hand finds his hard member and you teasingly trace him through the fabric with a finger.

“Enough to get angry?” He bites his lips, watching your fingers slip into the waistband of his briefs with interest.

“Yes – are you going to make me mad again?” You wait for him to meet your gaze and his breath hitches when you delicately take him in your palm, still staring. You lean in to press your lips on his neck and feel him tense even more at your first stroke. “Are you going to run away this time?”

The only sound he gives you as an answer is a low moan and you smear the precum on his tip with your thumb as you suck on his collarbone. You mirror what he did to you earlier, with purposely slow teasing strokes. Jongup throws his head back moaning and you finally begin to move faster, encouraged by his pants and his apparent surrender. After a moment, you stop your misdemeanor on his neck, shifting your position and he opens his eyes lazily.

“I’m hungry too...”

His mouth moves to reply, but you bring your wet thumb to your mouth and suck on it. His jaw drops at the sight of you tasting him and you hum in appreciation. He stays still, completely frozen, watching in awe as you lower your head to his tip and you pause a second to look up. Jongup’s eyes are wide, bewildered at your actions and you wonder why and where his earlier cocky persona has gone. Staring at him with a smug, you lick his tip to see his reaction and you aren’t disappointed when he sucks in a loud breath. Deciding you’re both more than ready, you take him all in your mouth, flattening your tongue to his base.

“Ah…” Jongup gasps when you repeat the motion and his hands find your neck and hair to stay anchored. “Oh god…” You begin to suck and bob your head, excited by the effect your actions have on him. Soon after, you already feel his thighs start to uncontrollably shake under your fingers and you release him. Wiping your mouth, you sit back, pleased. Jongup pulls you into him, hands stroking your back. “D-do you want to mayb–”

“Yes, I want you! It’s all I’ve been thinking about since... Yesterday!” He chuckles, turning to search for protection in his nightstand and you work on distracting him, lightly biting on his shoulder. “And the day before… Oh – and remember our third date when you touched my leg in the dark theater?” Jongup hums in approval, his whole body vibrating at the sound. You wrap your hands around his chest, fingers exploring his torso. “I wanted to get out of there during Act II… I wanted you to fuck me in the car…” He groans, turning to face you again.

“Next time you have that sort of fantasies... Feel free to tell me right away!”

“Mmm… I need to tell you everything! You’re full time work, Moon Jongup!”

“Yah – Am not!” He pushes you back on the bed and follows, catching himself above you with his right arm. His left hand finds your hip, thumbs tracing circles on your skin. “Mmh?”

Jongup hums a silent question, already claiming your mouth before you can answer it. You don’t really need words thought and you press yourself against his body, craving him inside of you. Instantly, his left hand deserts your hip, like pulled downwards by a compelling spell. You lewdly sigh when his fingers skim your slit, guiding his tip to your wet opening. Jongup sinks into you gently, true to himself, meticulous. His mouth is hovering above yours the whole time and you pull on his neck, forcing him down in a messy kiss, both of your attention caught elsewhere. Your fingertips dig his shoulder, signaling him to start moving and he obliges, too eager to wait any longer anyway. His thrusts are strong and with each one you raise your pelvis, meeting him halfway.

When it seems you’ve already found your perfect rhythm, Jongup slows down, taunting you in the best way. The throbbing desire in your stomach is overwhelming, mixed with that bliss and pleasure you’ve missed for a long time. His mouth explores your neck, breathing rendered heavy by his demanding task. Suddenly you feel him slip out and you’re about to protest the void when he grabs one of your thighs, caressing it like in trance.

“Turn on your side.” You bite your lips, obeying to his order and turning to your right against the bed. Again, his sudden shift of persona is turning you on. No longer is he the man shyly asking your permission for everything he does. Jongup’s sits on his heels, gaze lost in the shadows of his lowered head and you blush. You could be shy, but you’re weirdly proud, in that moment, you know he only has eyes for you.

Then he lays against your bare back, nipping at your shoulder, hand on your hips and fingertips brushing your stomach. You curve to meet his length with your ass, guessing how he wants to take you now. Jongup groans and you almost whimper when he enters you again, this time it’s tighter and deeper. His free hand explores your body as you grind at a harmonious rhythm and finds your neck, boobs and thighs, one by one. It’s like he can’t keep it in one spot, like his hand is out of his control and has a mind of its own. You close your eyes, savouring both the effect you have on him and the blissful sensations of him filling you relentlessly. When his finger’s graze your bud though, your eyes open again, alerted.

You can tell that Jongup is really trying to focus on your pleasure and since it’s your first time together, it’s more than enough for you. You smile in the sheets whenever you feel him miss a beat, shaking behind you. Although his fingers keep stoking your swollen clit fast, building you up, you’re aware he’s having a hard time keeping his composure. It’s when you clench your walls around him moaning his name that he loses it. You feel him finally twitch as he clings to your whole body to bury himself deeper within you. Jongup hides his face in the crook of your neck when he capitulates to his climax and your hand finds his, holding on tightly.

It takes him a moment to calm his erratic breathing before he detaches himself, sliding gently out of you to roll on his back. You chuckle lowly in awe, flipping on your stomach and cupping your face to silently observe him, elbows on the mattress. Jongup bites his lips, conscious under your scrutiny and you know him well enough to guess his blush despite the lack off light.

“You’re gonna have”, he pauses to exhale slowly, turning on his side to let his fingers wander on the soft skin of your back, “to show me.”

“Show you what?”

Your voice seems weak, but perhaps it’s just an illusion. The thickness of the newfound intimacy between you two rendering the mood of the room heavier than before.

“How to make you come”, he chuckles shyly, “I want to be able to do it, next time.”

“Oh…” You smile, pleased but a bit amazed.

He appears to be an attentive and great partner, but you never even expected to come on your first time together. That never happened for you and it’s not like many guys cared enough to blatantly ask the delicate question either. You usually must take charge of your own pleasure if you want to reach an orgasm with a partner.

“I’ll show you.”

“I’m sorry, you have to tell me everything...” You can hear the apologetic tone in his voice when he quotes you: “I’m full time work.”

“Jeez...” You chuckle again, scooping closer to rest your chin on his chest. “I guess if it’s for the greater good… I don’t mind working overtime on you, Moon Jongup…”

“Perfect.” He laughs, appeased. “Just give me like… Five minutes…”

“Five minutes?!” You raise on an elbow again, taken aback a lil’ bit worried by his shocking expectations. “How about you feed me instead! Then we can work on that all night…”

“Perfect...” He repeats amused, before getting up to clean himself. “Even better...” He comes back, having forgotten to kiss you once more. “One of the perks of being my girlfriend, is that I’m an amazing cook… And I also happen to have cold beer in the fridge.”

You hide your happy grin with your hands when he disappears in his bathroom and you begin to search around for something to wear. Looks like he incidentally just made your relationship official, that’s so like him.

“You meant noodles, right?!” You’re putting on one of his t-shirts when he reappears in the door frame, slight panic on his face. “Not that I can’t cook anything else, it’s ju-”

“Ramen is fine, Gup!” You laugh aloud when he leaves again and lets out an audible breath of relief.

So far, tonight is everything you felt was missing in your relationship.

It’s perfect – slightly awkward – but just like you two.

***

Daehyun and Himchan are waiting next to his desk when Jongup passes by them, trying hard to avoid their gazes.

“Goooooooood morning, Jongup!” Daehyun smirks, raising his eyes from the useless pile of paperwork he’s holding as props for his innocent act. “So… Ramen last night?”

“You’re late, lover boy.” Himchan laughs, making it clear they were both waiting by his desk to make fun of him.

“Waiiiiiit, you guys ate ramen without me?!” Yoo Youngjae, whose desk is right at the corner of the aisle, slides his chair all the way to them, lips pushed in a big pout. He hates to be excluded from work hangouts the most. “Next time bring me along for valuable information! I had lunch with Daria after my meeting yesterday! She’s your girl’s close friend...”

He wiggles his brows and Jongup drops on his own chair, discouraged. Maybe dating someone from the workplace makes this kind of morning-after inevitable... Although, he bets that’s just his luck for having friends who don’t seem to know any boundaries.

“I found out y/n’s really into you.” Youngjae goes on, unable to shut up even though his co-worker is evidently ignoring him. “Like soooooooo into you… Like – dude – just do something about it alrea-”

“Who died and made you a women expert?!” Merciless, Daehyun hits his head with a huge pile of paperwork to stop him.

“He did something about it, they had ramen last night.” Himchan announces, ignoring Youngjae’s loud whine. “All night – That’s why he’s late.”

Jongup turns to his computer, ears bright red. This time Youngjae coos – impressed – finally catching up.

“Shut up!” The main subject of the conversation shakes his head and covers his happy grin with his hands. It’s too late though, Daehyun has catched his expression and he laughs at him.

“That good, unh?” He proudly slaps the youngest one’s shoulder. “Come on, at least give us a lil’ something... Spicy to talk about!”

In the nearest cubicle, Bang Yongguk lets out a long-exasperated sigh before putting on his earbuds. Looks like he won’t be able to do much work today either. Making sure nobody’s peeping over his shoulder, he opens a Mahjong incognito tab on his computer.

Why can’t all his co-workers just get laid already!?

M A S T E R L I S T

#KpopTrashTag #TheKpopNetwork #Moon Jongup #BAP #BAP Smut #B.A.P #BAP Scenarios #Moon Jongup Smut #Moon Jongup Fanfic #Moon Jongup Scenarios #Best Absolute Perfect #BAP Fanfic #Moon Jongup Imagines #BAP Imagines #Ramen.#I had to come edit the lines I put because apparently Tumblr doesn't show those on mobile anymore #I replace them by *** wth tumblr why are you messing with out content so much?

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kclenhartnovels · 6 years

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Flirt Tag Game

I was tagged in the flirt game forever ago by @knightedwriter, and I looked through Vendave and realized I had no good flirt scenes. This was a problem I had to remedy. So I asked, Constantine and Delgos, or Samantha and Alastair?

And of course Ri said both, because she's a jerk. So I wrote a new scene for Con/Delgos, then as I was deciding on a scene for Samantha/Alastair, my dumb ass remembered that they were 100% flirting the first time they met, and I can use that.

Writing below the cut.

Constantine and Delgos

“Father's been getting worse,” Constantine noted quietly, leaning his shoulder against Delgos as he dangled his feet into the river.

“I think it's all in your head,” the guard soothed, tucking an arm around his middle and pulling the Prince closer to him. “You worry too much, Con.”

“Losing Rockwood—”

“Will you stop obsessing over it?” He frowned, pressing his lips to the top of Constantine's head. “For once, stop thinking about the kingdom. Enjoy the quiet out here.”

He sighed, perhaps more dramatically than he intended, closing his eyes and leaning his cheek into Delgos' shoulder. The summer heat hadn't hit in full force yet, the leaves of the grove around them rustling in the lazy wind. Insects buzzed in a low hum, and despite his pressing concerns, Constantine found himself falling limp against his guard.

“I don't know what else to think about,” he admitted after a moment, whining more than he had intended.

Delgos slid a hand under his chin, tilting up his head. Before Constantine could open his eyes, he kissed him gently, nothing more than a quick peck. The Prince felt heat flush his cheeks, and he sputtered a moment, looking up to Delgos.

“Someone will—”

“See?” Delgos finished for him, before looking around the empty forest. “Who, the birds?” Before Constantine could reply, he stole another kiss, then peppered a trail of them along Constantine's jaw until he found his ear.

“Stop,” Constantine laughed, but his fingers curled into the guard's shirt, pulling him closer. “I thought I told you never to kiss me again.”

“No,” he corrected, nuzzling against his cheek, “you kissed me, then told me never to do it again. I just assumed you were telling yourself.”

Constantine willed his blush to fade. “It's hot out here,” he evaded.

“Do you want to go back to the castle?”

He studied Delgos' face, watching the way the sun dappled through the trees, marking irresistible patterns across his skin. He leaned forward, catching his lips in a kiss somewhere between desperate and adoring. “Not yet.”

Alastair and Samantha

[This is before rewrites, so the writing has its problems. There is also a slur used in it, and the character is not corrected until later in the book. For context, this is a ball thrown at Valerian's estate, because that's all he does. This is the first time they've met, but the second song they're dancing to.]

“Sir,” Samantha murmured, moving a bit closer to the knight as they danced, “I did not mean to offend earlier. Forgive me.”

“Nonsense, you did no such thing, I assure you.” Alastair bowed his head briefly, offering her a weak but honest smile. “I just haven’t been feeling myself of late. I beg your pardon.”

“There is no need to beg for anything, then. Or we shall be forgiving each other all night.”

“Perhaps so.” His eyes softened as he spun her away from him, catching her by the fingertips to draw her back in.

“Most knights, I’ve learned,” she went on, “don’t know how to dance. At least not well. They’re far more awkward than you.”

“Most ladies I’ve met have nowhere near your wit and knowledge. It is a pleasant change. Since I have come here, Lord Valerian has insisted that I learn what he deems necessary. I’m afraid if you had seen me at his harvest festival, it would have been quite a different story.”

“I imagine so. Had we met then, we would never have been dancing. My husband never would have allowed it.”

“You’re married?” For a moment, Alastair looked around, as if trying to pin which man had her, but surely Valerian would have mentioned her husband, if she still had one? Count on him to leave out something so important.

“I was,” she corrected with a reassuring smile. “He disappeared last month. Just vanished. He had taken his pet falcon with him, though--we think something might have happened to him on the hunt, but we never found a body or anything, even after tracking him for days with hounds and men.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She shook her head, a few blond curls already falling loose from the pinned pile on her head. “I’m officially a widow, with his land and wealth in my name, and my son Owen to be his heir. My father would be turning in his grave to hear me speak like this, but I hated that man. He was rough and uncouth, and his only assets were in land. And I mean only.” With a defiant smile she spun away from him again, before dancing back into his reach.

“I am happy for you, then.”

“From what Valerian tells me, you have a daughter?” she asked, laying one hand on his shoulder again. “Are you married then?”

“No,” he shook his head, glancing towards the corridor. Down the hall, Catherine and Valerie would be sitting together popping nuts over a fire and listening to stories from their nanny. “I found her, not long before I came here. She was wandering lost and alone outside of Rivel. Her parents had been captured and killed there. I couldn’t leave her.”

“Of course not! I’m so happy for you. Children really are a blessing. How old is she?”

“Seven or eight years now, I believe. She’s with Valerian’s daughter right now. They’ve gotten along together very well.”

She laughed softly, pulling him to the side and clapping as the song ended. “Let’s get something to drink, it’s awfully dry in here. And that doesn’t surprise me. I’ve met Valerie a few times, and I must say, she takes after her father. A sweet little girl, but so quiet since her mother became ill. Have you heard anything of how she’s doing?”

“The Lady? No, I haven’t.” He took her arm to lead her to the long table. He didn’t miss Kamin’s grin, but chose to ignore it. “I’ve yet to see her, in fact. Valerian has told me that she never leaves their bedroom any longer, and is under constant supervision. He’s tried everything he can think of.”

She tsked. “It’s almost cruel to keep the poor woman like that, but I can’t imagine much else could be done aside from killing her, and I know Valerian would never think of that. I don’t know if he could bear it. Even through all this, he loves her--he still talks of her often.” She paused, then chuckled. “Then again, he talks of everything often, so I suppose I can’t single her out to much, bless his heart.”

Alastair took a small goblet of warm spiced wine for both of them. For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, watching the party. Kamin slipped through the crowds, somewhat drunken laughter following after him.

“Do you know him?” she asked finally, as the jester was wrangled back in by Jinx, slung over the acrobat’s shoulders like a dead deer and hanging gamely onto his hat.

“Yes. Well, to some extent. I met him in Rivel when I was with Catherine a few months ago. I ran into him again earlier in the week when his troupe came into town.” The knight smiled fondly, watching as Valerian slipped up to his minstrels, no doubt to request some song or performance. Kamin laughed and nodded, still hanging from his friend’s back. “It seems Valerian has finally warmed up to them. I’m glad of that.”

“They’re gypsies, aren’t they?” She gave a suspicious frown, turning over one of the rings on her fingers. “Did he know that?”

“Not when he first hired them. Don’t fear, though, they don’t live up to their reputations. Few of them do, that I’ve met.”

“And the ones who might, I think, would be wise enough to avoid conning a knight.”

“Indeed.” Alastair smiled, laughing quietly as the troupe went at it again.

“You sound as if you do not laugh often enough,” Samantha noted.

“I haven’t had a reason to for some time,” he admitted. “Not this freely, at least.”

She laid a hand on his knee. “Well then, I pray the reasons will continue.”

I’m not going to tag anyone for this game, but if you decide to do it, please @ me!

#tag games #flirt #fluff #vendave #wolf at the gates #dragon on the mountain #alastair #samantha #delgos #constantine #i feel like I always have to apologize for the old writing but #that's what you get so #oh well

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 6 years

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All I Want for Christmas is You (Naked) - Chapter 2

Part 2! Rose and Nine make it to the Powell Estate, where Jackie drops quite the surprise on them about how they spend the holiday. Later, conversations about movies based on Time Lords/Ladies.

Plus, smut. Only one scene this time, sorry. :P NSFW

@chiaroscuroverse @dwsecretsanta

@timepetalsprompts - Eccleston smouldering/smirking.

@doctorroseprompts - snuggling under blankets. Non-platonically.

Beta’d by the spectacular @stupidsatsuma!

Masterlist

Overnight bag in hand, Rose walked into the console room to find the Doctor standing off to the side, a puzzled look on his face as he glanced between the captain’s seat, the main console, and the railing by the front door.

“Everything alright?” She asked, wrapping an arm around his waist. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips before smirking at her.

“Just trying to plan my reward.” His eyebrows wiggled as he slid one hand into her back pocket, kneading the flesh below it before pulling her close against him. Even through two pairs of jeans, Rose could feel him stirring to life.

“You’ve gotta earn it, first,” she reminded him sweetly.

“Oh, I will.” The Doctor promised, leaning down to lay kisses along her neck.

“Mmhmm. Keep in mind I will kill you if there’s a mark for Mum to find,” she murmured even as she held his head in place.

He shuddered in exaggerated horror. “No chance I can talk you back to bed?”

“Sorry.” Not sounding sorry at all, Rose slipped from his grasp to lay their bag by the door.

Scowling, he began his dance around the console, coordinates already set. “Fine. 21st December, 2006. Powell Estate.”

The landing was rough, and as always they were thrown to the floor laughing. The Doctor ended up lying half on top of her, and took the opportunity to steal a kiss.

“Now, remember, Mum knows nothin’ about us, yeah? Let’s keep it that way,” she ordered.

“Yeah, yeah.” His huff turned into a groan when she squeezed him through his jeans before running her knuckles along his zip.

Before he could react further she was up and away, bouncing by the exterior door.

“Come on! It’s just a couple of days.”

Grabbing the bag, she didn’t wait for him. She’d already learned that as much as he disliked the idea, he hated being separated from her more.

Muttering under his breath in Gallifreyan about teases and what he planned to do to her when she decided he’d earned his reward, he followed.

By the time the Doctor had gotten himself under control and reached the Tyler flat, Rose and Jackie had already hugged and were headed for the kitchen, gossiping away.

More than happy to be ignored, he merely closed the door behind him and headed for his usual seat in the far corner of the sofa.

He was flipping idly through Jackie’s mail when they returned from the kitchen. Jackie pausing when she saw him, before settling the tea tray on the coffee table.

“Hello,” she said stiffly, glaring at the alien she held responsible for her daughter’s continued disappearance.

“Jackie.” He replied, adding a grin when Rose glared.

“So, you said you had a surprise involving cousin Mo. What’s going on?” Rose knew that limiting the conversation between her mother and her boyfriend/traveling companion/alien lover was the safest bet.

“Mo has a new boyfriend,” her mother announced with relish.

“So?”

“So – he’s young. Handsome. Rich.” Jackie wiggled her eyebrows.

“And that’s why we had to come rushing here so early?” The Doctor demanded, looking up from fixing his tea.

Jackie glared at him. “Yes. Because, he’s got an estate in the country, and he’s invited Mo to spend Christmas with ‘im. And of course she said, ‘I’m sorry, dear, but I always spend Christmas with my cousin and her daughter, that’s the only family I’ve got’, and do you know what he said? He looked at her, and he said, ‘Darling, invite them along. I must meet them.’ Isn’t that wonderful?”

Rose stared at her mother, aghast. Being at the flat for a few days was bad enough; he could always flee to the TARDIS if Jackie got to be too much. But a country estate?

“So instead of spending Christmas here…”

“We’ll be at his estate! It’s a full manor house, and Rose, Mo said it’s gorgeous. She’d marry ‘im today if it meant she could keep the house, even pop out a kid or two! Can you imagine?”

Rose smiled weakly, listening with one ear as Jackie continued to prattle on about her expectations, feeling the Doctor’s horrified gaze burning into her.

She was so screwed.

“No,” the Doctor said adamantly the first moment they were alone, Jackie off to begin tea.

Rose bit her lip, torn between her mother and him.

“Look, you don’t have to go, yeah? Stay here, spend a couple days working on maintenance. Or you could just wait ‘til we leave then jump forward to the 27th.”

“What and leave you alone for six days? Not bloody likely, Miss Jeopardy Friendly,” he snorted.

“Well, I’m going. You can join me and suffer in silence, you can stay here, or you can jump ahead like I suggested.”

She glared as good as she got, and their heated staring contest only ended when the Doctor realized that with how close they were standing and the neckline of her top, he had a decent view down her shirt.

“I don’t like any of those options,” he told her breasts, and she snorted, obligingly rolling her shoulders back slightly to present a better view for him to ogle. If the two lumps on her chest could convince him better than her promises, well, Rose knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Unless it was a Totrionian horse, but that was another matter altogether.

“Doctor.” She casually folded her arms, smirking when his mouth fell open a bit at how the movement pushed her breasts together and up. For all his claims about ‘superior biology’ this, and ‘Time Lords don’t do relationships, Rose’ that, he was more susceptible to her womanly charms than any other bloke she’d ever met, and she wasn’t above exploiting that.

“Fine,” he capitulated, pulling her hips against his as her arms instinctively went around his neck. “But I’ve a right to complain, and you can’t stop me. And when we’re done, I’m going to take you to Dreamia III, where they really know how to celebrate Christmas right. The only preview you’re getting is: the best hot chocolate of your life served in a mug bigger than your head.”

“So long as your complaints are to me and me only, not where anyone else can hear, then fine.”

“Fantastic.” He lowered his head to seal the deal with a kiss, but Rose stopped him before he could lay one on her.

“Uh uh, not where Mum could see.”

Groaning, the Doctor dropped his forehead to hers.

It was going to be a long six days.

“Do you think he’s a time thingy like you?” Jackie asked out of the blue.

It was much later that night, and she was in the armchair while Rose and the Doctor were snuggled together on the couch behind her, It’s a Wonderful Life playing on the telly.

“What?” The Doctor looked up from where he’d been tracing a single fingertip along Rose’s ear, grateful for the dark room that blocked Jackie’s view of them.

“This angel person. ‘S he a time whatsit like you, to be able to show ‘im an alternate future?” She munched on popcorn, waiting his answer.

He stared blankly at the back of her head. “It’s a movie, Jackie. He’s not a Time Lord.”

Jackie huffed. “Well, I don’t know. There’s more than just you, isn’t there? Couldn’t it be based on one of your lot?”

The question sent a thousand images rushing through his mind, of things burning, glass breaking, children screaming, a terrible robotic voice crying ‘EX-TER-MIN-ATE.’ Rose’s warm hand on his thigh drew him from the memory.

“No,” he answered shortly. A squeeze to his leg told him he’d been too abrupt, so he tried to offer an olive branch. “Mary Poppins was, though.”

“What, really?” Rose looked up at him, startled.

“Yeah. Friend of mine, actually - Romana. Long story.”

She considered the idea for several long moments. “Makes sense. After all, her bag was bigger on the inside.”

He grinned down at her, but instead of a reply, he let out an undignified squeak when Rose’s hand pressed along the front of his jeans.

“Alright, there?” She asked, eyes twinkling up at him as her fingers began to stroke along his zip, coaxing him to life.

He was fairly certain he made some sort of affirmative noise, glancing over at Jackie to see her once again enthralled in the film.

Looking back at Rose, he saw the mischievous look in her eye just before she timed undoing the zipper to a sound effect.

“We watch this every year,” she explained unnecessarily, fingertips wandering through the slit in his pants.

“Fantastic.” The Doctor struggled to keep his breathing even, suddenly understanding why Rose had insisted they cuddle under the blanket on the near side of the couch; they were mostly behind Jackie, leaving less of a chance of being caught.

After several minutes of her gently stroking him while watching the movie, he tried to relax and enjoy the low hum of pleasure. Her touch was light enough it was unlikely he’d make a mess of himself, and he made a valiant effort to pay attention to the film.

Eventually, one hand still casually pumping him, Rose tapped his chest with the other. Looking down at her, it took several seconds to process that she wanted them to shift. Turning fully onto his side and sliding down, back against the back of the couch, Rose stretched out flat next to him, laying one foot flat so her raised knee would block Jackie’s view, were she to turn.

The Doctor resettled the blanket over them, before gliding his hand under Rose’s jumper to lie against her stomach, his thumb idly stroking her belly button and his pinky dipping below the waist of her trousers. Meanwhile, she tightened her fist around him, giving him more of the friction he needed as she began to work him in earnest.

Giving up on the movie he allowed his eyes to fall closed, focusing instead on both the feel of her hand around him and the soft skin under his own as it crept further inside Rose’s knickers.

He’d just run his middle finger through the wetness she was leaking, about to work it inside her, when Jackie stood abruptly causing his eyes to snap open and Rose’s hand to freeze. “Right. Bloody hell, that wine goes right through me now. I’ll be back, but you can let it play.”

The moment Rose heard the bathroom door close, she scrambled off the couch to kneel in front of it, the Doctor staring at her.

“Well go on, sit up, we’ve only got a minute or two.” She hissed at him, and he obeyed, still not understanding.

The moment he was upright, though, Rose whipped the blanket away and unceremoniously slid her mouth over him.

Barely managing to contain his shout of surprise, he gaped at her furiously bobbing head. The low-burning fire she’d been cultivating in him for the better part of an hour quickly built to a raging inferno as his eyes rolled back and he pressed a hand to her hair, fighting the urge to thrust against her.

“Unh, unh, unh,” he panted as she sucked him, stroking what she couldn’t reach. The third time she took him whole she hummed lightly around him and he was lost in a wave of pleasure. It wasn’t until he came down he realized that he’d been steadily chanting a chorus of Rose, fuck, and yes.

She was just tucking him back into his pants when the bathroom door opened, and by the time Jackie returned to the sitting room they were back in their original positions, calm and casual as could be.

Completely unaware of what had transpired practically under her nose, Jackie settled in her chair, asking blithely, “Did I miss anything?”

No matter how many times she asked, her daughter refused to admit why she’d burst into laughter at the question.

#bbatcfic #dwsecretsanta #doctorroseprompts #timepetalscollective #ficandchips #All I Want for Christmas is You (Naked)#chiaroscuroverse #oohlala

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tayegi · 7 years

Text

Majesty Ch. 1 (m)

Synopsis: As the bride to Crown Prince Jimin, you must produce an heir in order to go back home....

Next: Ch 2

Word Count: 3,936

The finest embroidery irritates at your skin every time you fidget on top of the covers of the vast, ornate golden bed. The lavish room blends with the grandeur of the bed perfectly—all antique gold carvings and plush crimson silks. Gold and red: symbols of affluence and the royal lineage of your betrothed… But no longer your betrothed. For in a few meager minutes he will step inside extravagant room and steal your innocence and your freedom. Then you will be irrevocably tied to him until your dying day as man and wife.

It's nearly past midnight by now. You can tell by the way the brilliant moonlight streams through the sleek carmine curtains, casting an ominous bloody glow across the room, and how the candles wither down in their brass holders. You muffle a yawn with the back of your opulent ruby sleeve and spread your hands across the satin bed covers with a hint of longing. Oh, how you would love to just curl up under the silken sheets and burrow so deep into the oversized bed that your betrothed will never find you.

But your handmaidens have spent hours scrubbing your body from head to toe, scrutinizing your naked body for any sign of blemish that would make you unfit for the Crown Prince. You'd be lying if you said you weren't disappointed that they found none.

You glance over at the wilting candles again… Just a few drops of that scalding wax on your delicate flesh, and you'll be forever scarred. It would be blasphemous for the holiness of the Crown Prince's hands to touch your disfigured skin. The wedding would be called off at once… But then you'd be executed for treason… For daring to mar a treasured possession of the highest man of power in the entire realm. Because that's all you are—a business transaction from when your parents signed the papers and gave you away as a sacrificial offering to your great King.

You remember how you had cried and begged for mercy when your father signed off your marriage two moons ago. You were the fourth of five daughters in the family. You had always been under the impression that your elder sisters would be married off for power, but the inconsequential younger child might be married for love. You were so insignificant in the family already—just another mouth to feed, that you thought you might actually get a choice in the matter…

But all your hopes came dashing down the day your father had come home with a stack of documents and a chest full of bridal gifts from the imperial palace. When you burst into tears and threw yourself at his feet, grabbing his gown and begging for forgiveness, he had pulled you up and slapped you straight in the face, in front of all of your siblings without a heed.

It had been the first time your usually gentle father had ever laid a hand on you. You remember all the sneers and chuckles from your older sisters. The way they had held each other and giggled at the spectacle while your mother and brothers shook with concern, but stood aside, unable to interfere even if they wanted to. Your father had just struck you… And your mother just watched. And that's when you realized the significance of the match for the first time.

With the minuscule sacrifice of one expendable daughter, your subordinate merchant family would become royalty… For the first time in the centuries of your family's lineage, there would be a Queen… You never opened your mouth to complain again.

A vexing itch at the back of your head returns you back to the present. You huff slightly in irritation before patting at your elaborate up do, careful not to ruin the hours of meticulous work your maids had put into sculpting it just right. You wish you could rip out all the golden hairpins that scratch viciously at your scalp and remove the opulent scarlet sash around your middle that limits your oxygen intake.

At this point, it'd almost be a relief for your betrothed to come in and take possession of you. All this waiting is making your anxieties build up and fester. You almost welcome the pain that will ensue; the blood that will spill all over the luxurious bed coverings.

Maybe you'll be fortunate and he'll impregnate you with a single attempt. That's all he wants for you. To carry the heir to his kingdom. Then he can go back to whoring around with concubines and you can go home.

The current Empress raised her first son in her homeland for five years, to establish a healthy alliance between her family and the Emperor's, before returning to the palace. For the sake of the peace alliance, the Crown Prince must be willing to follow in his father's footsteps and repeat that tradition.

So all you need to do is to bear one son… Then you can finally return home to your mother and your siblings. You are strong. You can endure this.

A second later, a bang against the bamboo door alerts you to a presence beyond your room. "The Crown Prince has arrived, my lady."

You jump to your feet at once, your heart surging to lodge in your throat. He's finally here. And once he steps into this room, your life as you know it will end. You will no longer exist as the beloved fourth daughter of a quaint merchant family by the sea. You will only be the Crown Prince's trophy.

The door slide open slowly, ominously. Then Crown Prince Jimin steps inside, flanked by two royal guards. His eyes lock onto yours from across the room, and your heart stops entirely. For a moment, it seems as though time has ceased to exist as the two of you stare at each other, your gaze bold and unabashed with curiosity before you realize your position and quickly drop your eyes to your lap as expected of a demure virgin bride. But it's too late and you've already gotten an eyeful of him.

It's been five full years since you've last seen him. That summer he had spent running around with your brothers by the harbor of your hometown, he had still been half a boy, pudgy faced and giggly. But now… Now, there is no mistaking him as anything other than a man.

The softness of his features has dissolved into sharp angles and broad lines. And the grandeur of his presence that floods the room with his mere entry is not something that can be learned—it can only be bred by centuries of royal blood flowing through his veins. This Park Jimin is a far cry from the timid child you had once adored. This… This man is the Crown Prince.

"You may leave for the night," he says, addressing the guards.

Your ears pique at the sound of his voice, the smooth, velvety texture contrasting sharply with the high-pitched giggles of your memories. The two guards bow with mutual affirmative cries of "Yes, your majesty," before they parry out of the room, sliding the doors shut and leaving just the two of you.

And now it is time to consummate the marriage.

You swallow tightly and just barely resist the urge to claw at your itchy throat. It is suddenly too hot, even in the vast, spacious room. You stare determinedly at your feet as you listen to Jimin walk around the room, each footstep as loud as a canon blast to your sensitive ears.

"Would you like something to drink?"

The unexpected question makes you jump with fear. You glance up in shock to find him staring straight at you, before you quickly drop your gaze down again as your brain whirs to find the correct answer. What would a good chaste bride say? Is it shameful to drink with a man of such status? He is your husband, but not lawfully so. Not until your maiden blood spills across the sheets. Should you refuse him, then? Or would that be a sign of direct defiance towards the Crown?

"You have always thought too much," Jimin cuts through the silence with a deep sigh, "Don't overthink it, ___. Come here and sit with me."

This is a direct order from the Crown Prince, and you find yourself nearly tripping over the hem of your elaborate dress as you rush to obey. You drop into the seat across from him, then wince when you realize that he is pouring tea into two finely polished porcelain cups. You would've preferred liquor—a bit of intoxication might vaccinate you against the upcoming pain. But of course no self-respecting woman would have the decency to request a drink in front of her husband. So you seal your lips and accept the steaming cup with a demure smile when Jimin offers it to you.

"Thank you, your majesty." It suddenly occurs to you that it should be the duty of the woman to pour the man's drinks. The marriage hasn't been consummated, and you have already slipped up. Luckily, Jimin doesn't seem to mind.

"It is interesting hearing you address me by that name," he muses as he examines you over the rim of his cup, "I thought you were the only one with the courage to stand against societal pressures."

Is he angry? There might be a hint of bemusement in his tone, but you don't dare look at his expression to confirm. "I… I apologize for my past behavior, your majesty. I was still but a child then and regrettably did not know better."

He chuckles then, filling the empty space with the mellifluous sound, "Why are you apologizing? You may call me by any name of your choosing."

"Thank you… your majesty."

Jimin says nothing in response, but you can feel the heat of his gaze from across the table. The candles continue to droop in their placements, signaling the passage of time. Finally, he gets to his feet with a deep sigh, "It is late, my lady. Perhaps it is time we settle for the night."

After drawing this out for an unnecessary length of time, Jimin must finally be cutting to the point. Your legs are wobbling dangerously underneath you as you rise to your feet and meekly follow him across the room to the bed.

Jimin looks at you when you hesitate near the foot of the bed for a moment too long, "What are you doing? Please lie down, my lady."

Your ears burn from the shock of hearing such scandalous words slip past the Crown Prince's royal tongue, but you rush to obey, carefully climbing up the silken sheets and rotating to lie like a prone doll in the direct center. Your mother would be so proud. After years of drilling etiquette lessons into her unruly fourth daughter, you have finally become the docile lady she's always wanted. Your mother...

Tears prick at your eyes as memories of your mother and your childhood flood your mind. If you close your eyes tightly enough, you can almost see the smiling faces of your parents and siblings. You can practically feel the warmth of your mother's embrace and the crisp seasalt breeze blowing through your hair. You will never see your family again. Not unless you succumb to the will of the throne and act as their vessel.

You take a deep breath, then sit up to pull at the crimson sash around your middle, ready to offer your body to the Crown. Jimin catches your wrist before you can tug your gown apart to reveal your sacrifice.

"What are you doing?"

Out of instinct, you catch his gaze with your own. The genuine distress in his honey brown eyes strikes discord in your chest, but you meekly tear your eyes away before you can analyze his expression. "Your majesty…. I… I did not realize that you—"

"That is not necessary. Just try to get some rest, my lady."

Your eyes widen as realization dawns upon you. "Y-your majesty?"

"Do not worry about me," he says with a smile, "I will be more than fine with the floor for one night."

Panic slams into you, making you bolt upright on the bed, "Your majesty," you exclaim, "This is—this is highly unnecessary!" Coherent wording escapes you as you splutter to express the multiple levels of impropriety his behavior consists of. Not only is the Crown Prince sleeping on the floor like a peasant, but he is refusing to consummate his marriage. Equal parts fear and shame about your inadequacies as a bride fill you from head to toe.

Jimin simply laughs and pulls a few pillows and elaborate shams from the bed to lay across the floor, "It is fine, my lady. Please rest up. You have a long day in the morrow."

Fear overwhelms all else at the casual quality of his words, nearly debilitating you entirely. He honestly does not realize the danger of his actions—of the consequences you will be forced to face. What would a noblewoman do in this situation? How could you best be a filial daughter and a devoted wife if your life is in danger? Should you stay obedient and allow the Crown Prince to do as he wishes? Or should you fight for your life?

"Your majesty!" You practically yell out.

Jimin looks up from his position on the ground, surprised by the volume of your voice, "My lady?" his eyes widen as he notices the stricken expression on your face and the way your entire body trembles, "Lady ___, what is wrong?" he asks, rising to his feet and approaching you on the bed in concern.

You shudder harder at the sound of your given name and lurch forward to grab his sleeve when he is within distance, "Please, your majesty," you beg, shamelessly staring him straight in the face, "We must… we must fulfill our duties as man and wife. It is only proper."

Jimin visibly blanches, "Perhaps another day, my lady," he says, carefully slipping out of your grip, "But it is late, and we both should get some rest…"

He is not understanding. Your heart sinks in your chest. The appropriate path of action is to apologize and meekly follow his instructions. Your husband is always right… But you refuse to endanger your life simply due to a slip of his mind. So you rush forward to yank on his elaborate red silk sleeve again.

"Your majesty, I believe that you misunderstand," you blurt out in a stream, cheeks heating from the embarrassment of such unmannered forwardness, "There will be people to check for signs of…" you choke for a moment and have to take a deep breath to continue, "Signs of my deflowering… When they do not find the evidence of my purity… they will assume that I have deceived them. I will be deemed unfit as your bride and I will be—"

"Hanged," Jimin finishes for you with a soft furrow of his brows, as though finally realizing the severity of the situation.

You exhale in relief and loosen your grip on his sleeve, "I realize that you are exhausted, your majesty. But I must beseech you to make this sacrifice for me."

Jimin considers you with hooded eyes, "You are also misunderstanding, my lady. This was not my intention… I simply—" He cuts off to rub at his eyes with a fatigued sigh.

Your chest clenches in guilt, but your survivor's instinct easily silences any discomfort, "Please, your majesty…. Please."

You can feel the heat of his gaze on your face, even as you avoid direct eye contact. A few candles have flickered out, eaten by fire down to their waxy graves, and the surviving firelight beats feebly against Jimin's figure, casting tall shadows against the wall. You shiver and pull your flimsy gown closer to your body.

"I will not allow any harm to come to you," Jimin's cool voice cuts through the silence, "I swear my life upon it."

He sounds so adamant and unexpectedly serious that you peek up at him in curiosity. He stares back impassively, his eyes unreadable in the dying light. You are rendered speechless by the raw intensity of his gaze and can only watch in confusion as he crosses in the room in three long strides to grasp the emptied teacup. You flinch in surprise when he slams the cup against the table, making the expensive china shatter to pieces.

When he picks up the largest shard and approaches you on the bed, you cower back against the wall, uncertain of his intentions, but terrified nevertheless. Jimin's focused expression softens at your blatant fear.

"Relax, my lady. I told you that I will not allow you to be harmed… Not even by myself," he assures you in a soothing voice. And with that, he pushes his sleeve up past his elbows and slices the broken shard of china through the tender skin of his forearm.

You call out in alarm, but it is too late and a shallow cut shines with fresh red blood from where the jagged porcelain slid across his flesh. Jimin presses a finger to his lips in an urge to silence you, then reaches forward to hold the bloody piece of china above the bed. A single flick of his wrist, then crimson splatters across the bed, the deep red sinking into the fine sheets.

"This is such a medieval practice," he lightly says as he places down the porcelain fragment to find a clean cloth to bind his wound with, "It is appalling that the maiden's blood is still examined as a sign of purity… But unfortunately, we must follow in this practice for your protection. This should be enough to satisfy the witch hunters," he says with a charming smile, "Now, if that is all, we should turn in for the night, my lady."

Your entire body is numb as you watch him transverse across the room, blowing out each candle to plunge the room into darkness. You can't see anything, but you can hear the way his expensive clothing rustles as he settles into his improvised bed on the floor.

The Crown Prince of the entire kingdom of Goryeo is sleeping on the hard ground like a peasant. To say that you are in disbelief is an understatement. It is beyond blasphemous allowing a member of royal lineage to suffer such pitiful accommodations. A well-raised lady would immediately offer her bed immediately and refuse to rest until the Prince was settled in at a level befitting his noble rank. But you can't bring yourself to move, already wearied by the argument sure to follow.

Jimin would never allow you to sleep on the floor. Nor will he join you on the bed. Not even on your wedding night. And you still cannot comprehend why.

What a strange man your new husband has become. He is nothing like the happy-go-lucky child of your memories. And you have not the faintest clue what to make of this.

Even as the moon rises to its highest position on the meridian, and Jimin's breathing evens out to soft snores, you cannot fall asleep. You lie there for hours, staring at the ceiling and contemplating if you'll ever be able to make your way home.

#bts scenarios #bts scenario #bts smut #jimin sceanarios #jimin scenario

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tremblingstockings · 7 years

Text

Golden

Been a while since I’ve done a fic Here ye go Takes a bit to get to the wetting but I hope you like it anyway It’s the “Midas touch” prompt

Roderick had heard of many legends, but none interested him quite as much as that of the Dragons cave. In this cave was all of the treasures one could imagine, particularly gold. It was said that there was gold in the rivers and in the grass, and so much inside of the caves that it looked like the inside of them had been painted in the glistening sunny color.

There was a catch to this glimmering paradise however; no one who went for it ever returned. It was guarded by a dragon. A lucky survivor claimed however, that the dragon was nowhere to be found, only a lovely statue in its memory. However, almost as quickly as the dragon left, it had returned. Either that, or a being more powerful had taken its place, for after that survivor Roderick had not heard of any other survivors.

Roderick's wife looked over to him wearily, settling her hand gently on her pregnant stomach.

"Roderick dear, this may not be a good idea. To steal from this cursed place? What happens if you don't return? Our daughter..." She murmured nervously.

He held her hand, his brown eyes looking into her hazel eyes, "that's why I'm going. We can barely provide for ourselves. We need this. At least, we need something more."

She nodded, brushing her hand against his arm gently as he prepared himself for battle with only a dagger that he had sharpened through the week. He kissed his wife on the forehead and gathered some food for himself as well, and then headed out deep into the woods to find this mysterious cave.

Minutes turned into hours, and hours turned into days. The greenery around him had become so thick and foggy it felt like a personal earthy purgatory. He wondered if people simply didn't return because they got lost. He wondered if the woods never ended.

As the sun rose for another day, he tiredly pulled out what was left of his water and chugged it, hoping to stay hydrated through the few days of sweaty summer heat. The cicadas started to silence and he was frozen in a new eery atmosphere. Something glimmered in the distance.He ran to it and it began to turn into a sprint through his hope. Sure enough, as the fog settled he saw a river nearby as well as the cave. The river he found was so deep that he couldn't see the bottom of it.

He took a tree branch, one that was longer than his height and stuck it into the water, where it sunk beneath the surface. A chill went up his spine, and something instinctively told him not to go into the water. However, he was thirsty, so he had no qualms with drinking from it.

He looked down at his feet, and gold stones were glimmering in the sunlight, reflecting into the water. He gathered a few, and then a few more.

He almost wanted to call it from then on, for he had what he would need and he felt watched. However, the inside of the cave was glowing with riches, and his curiosity and greed had gotten the better of him. He brushed his fingers along the inside of the cave walls, touching all of the gold.

That was when he heard a twig snap, and rustling in the leaves. It was close. He ran for it and quickly hid behind a tree. The movement stopped, and he reached for his dagger.

Eventually he heard movement in the trees, and he looked up and around, paranoid, the water from earlier causing a tenseness in his bladder. He panicked. This was no time to think of relieving oneself! He was in danger! He looked around, thinking an animal was near. He was right, a ways from him was a little faun. But it wasn't moving. And it was gold, like the other statues. Then he realized how realistic the gold statues were, and how no one who stole from the cave survived. He broke out in a cold sweat, putting the pieces together. He looked above him and in a tree was a woman in a black and gold feathery outfit, with a beautiful and detailed mask like that of a masquerade mask. She grinned large, "oh, I found you~!" Roderick fearfully pulled out his dagger before him, and the lady giggled. "Adrien, be a dear and bring me another statue would you?" A tall man with long black hair and weary eyes tilted his head behind Roderick, and he tapped him lightly on the shoulder and slipped behind the trees. Roderick stiffened and dropped the dagger, feeling his legs behave like concrete on the ground. He couldn't move. He looked down and saw that his legs were turning to gold. But that wasn't the worst part, the worst part was feeling it creep through his veins and solidify everything in his body, particularly in the once softer bladder, and now the urine was like a solid rock in his body, adding pressure before the rest of his organs did the same. A single tear rolled down his face as he realized his fate while the gold solidified the rest of him and solidified his failure. The sun began to set, and the sky took on a gold tone, the very color making Roderick feel sick. Roderick was, pitifully, still conscious. He realized every other victim from years ago then was too, and he felt sympathy for them. He got upset, he grew angry, he grew hopeless, but most of all, he grew lonely. He had failed himself and his wife. And he had to be conscious through it all for eternity with no power to move or speak. He heard something. He wanted to warn whoever it was. The way the person moved was familiar. He hoped they wouldn't get caught. "Roderick!" He heard a sweet voice cry out. It was his wife. He wanted to scream to warn her but no sound could escape his golden prison. He could only watch his tearful wife throw herself into him. She wept on his shoulder, "Roderick. You fool! I should've come instead! I should've come with you. And..." She sobbed, "and now you're gone! It's all my fault!" If he weren't stuck, he would cry too, and assure her that he was alive. "The baby will come any day now..." "What do I do? Do I take to provide? Or do I leave in your warning? I'd carry you with me but you're so heavy..." Her lip quivered as she sunk to her knees. "Roderick..." "You poor thing... Taking a thief as a husband..." Purred the lady from earlier. She grabbed the dagger and aimed it towards her. "You wouldn't know! He is a good man! And you killed him!" The lady tilted her head with a smile. "Killed him? No no, I have only made him art. He is still very much alive. If you'd like," her eyes gleamed "you can join him." "Is there a way to bring him back?" His wife begged, "please, have mercy, I'm going to have a child soon! I'll give anything!" "Anything?" The lady said, sauntering forward. She put her claw like hand beneath the woman's chin and lifted it to gaze upon her. "Can a human carry such generosity?" The woman nodded "He's provided me with love and encouragement for years and now a child! Please, you must let him go." Adrien looked over to the lady, wanting to touch her shoulder for encouragement but remembered he couldn't. "I, I grow weary of my curse. Surely we can send these folk off? Regardless of right or wrong I feel haunted by this lately." "You really plan on turning back from a useful reason to use your powers?" "My lady, it is a curse. Clearly this man is experiencing the worst curse imaginable. He is with his wife and unable to express love. And this is the first time we've had to witness someone close come back for a victim." There was silence and Adrien stared down, "Sorry, perhaps I've said too much." "Well... Adrien, I don't want to burden you. And, perhaps you're right. I'll give him another chance." The lady walked over to Roderick. She stared into his eyes as she whispered a chant. Soon her eyes glowed, and then his eyes glowed as well and the gold started to fade from his body until it looked lively and natural toned again.He felt lighter at first and then much... Heavier. All the stilled liquid movements moved again and he felt hot tears roll down his face and he trembled. "Roderick!" His wife screamed. "Meredith!" He shouted back and hugged her. He then embarrassingly shuffled back as he felt the weight force into his bladder and hot urine escape him from days of waiting. "M-Meredith hold on I... Agh…!" He gasped and moaned, closing his eyes and looking away as his pants grew soaked in warm urine and a faint pattering could be heard. A blush grew on Meridiths face as it continued for longer than Roderick would've wanted. He gave a sigh "Agh... I'm sorry, I... It's been days." The sweet release however, was heaven, but no heaven was greater than being able to look at his wife, in spite of their embarrassment. When all was said and done he quickly dipped himself into the river and shuddered, hating every aspect of that endeavor but feeling at least somewhat cleaner. He had trouble for a little bit looking the two foes in the face after all was said and done, and he trembled as he walked. He picked up the dagger. "Roderick... You... You can't..." Meredith said, worriedly. He continued toward them and then bent down on his soaked knee before them and offered it to them. "May it be of some use to you. Regardless, I do not want it and I will never return. I promise." The lady looked to the dagger, then to Adrien. She took the dagger. "If that is really so, then please, take this in exchange." With that, she placed a hefty amount of gold into his hand. "Wh..what...? Really?" She gave a faint smile. "Go and have a steady life with your son." The smile on Roderick's face put the sun to shame, and he quickly ran to Meredith with tears of joy and guided her back to their home. They never told a soul. Four days later, Meredith went into labor, and she gave birth to a daughter and they named her Oribelle.

#omorashi #male wetting #fantasy #omo fic

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f-i-n-d-4 · 7 years

Text

A Masquerade

Masquerade: a false show or pretense. That was the definition of a masquerade Fiona had learned via her studies, and how fitting a definition it was, for the way she was to pick a husband? A masquerade ball, her father had said and basically forced upon her. She was unable to complain, unfortunately; that had been part of the deal, along with the promise not to hurt any of her friends and their respective kingdoms. In exchange, she had gone back to her solemn life as princess of Nyssia. It had been the right thing, she knew; she had saved her most precious friend's life in exchange for hers, and she knew in her head that it had been the right thing to do. So then why did her heart ache with such pain and regret? In the back of the fairy's mind, she knew why: she would never be able to see him again, ever. Her heart continued to ache as she thought about him: his ruby-red eyes, his ash-black hair, his red-tipped black horns, his irritated attitude, and the aspect that allured her the most, his warm heart under his cold shell. A strike of pain ran through Fiona's heart at the thought of never being able to see that side of him again, but it had either been that or for everyone to never see him ever again, and she knew that although she would no longer be able to see him again, he lived, And that was better than anything she could ever ask for, despite her selfish feelings. So now here she stood under the shadows of the grand stairwell of the castle she was forced to call home, a party brewing amongst the castle's lobby while she, she of all people, stayed against the sidelines with a mask in the shape of a green and pink butterfly hiding her emerald-green eyes. Her hair, which had once been disguised as a hazel brown, was now a sakura pink, curled, and tied into an elegant side ponytail near the top of her head, which was adorned with a golden crown, while her pointy ears adorned a rose earring each. Her body was covered by a large, fluffy light green dress that hid the pair of pink glittering shoes she had on. Her sparkly pink wings were aligned with each other and made to be as unseeable as possible so as to not attract attention. The fairy had her hands clasped together as she stood as straight as possible with a plastered smile on her face to greet fellow masked fairy folk with a nod, smile, and wave. Nothing different from her usual life as princess, which pained her to no end. Some boys who wanted her hand in marriage came to meet her, and Fiona politely but immediately declined. Though she knew she was going to have to marry someone by the end of the night, she was going to deny it as much as possible. Some time had passed, and she had not moved a single inch from her spot. Her feet was starting to ache from standing in high heels for so long and she was about to go look for a place to sit when the music that had been flowing about suddenly changed to a more romantic mood. Her face paled and she quickly tried to blend herself with the shadows cast by the stairwell more as she knew that more boys were probably going to ask for her to dance with them. She had been right, unfortunately, as some boys with masks adorned on their face asked for her hand to dance, to which she declined them all. However, there was one boy that immediately caught her interest. "What a lovely sight laid before me." After rejecting yet another boy, those were the first words that caught her attention. Fiona whipped her head to face the owner of the voice, who was another boy who approached her, but this one was different. He had on a dark red princely suit with the edges of his coats and sleeves brimmed with a golden color. His hair was a chocolate brown, almost charcoal black color, and his eyes were hidden behind a mask decorated with small roses the color of a warm fire. Almost immediately Fiona's eyes lit up and she was about to tackle the boy with a hug when she realized something. There was no way this boy could be who she was hoping for, for he had no horns and adorned pointy ears just like all other fairy folk. He was, although taller than her, still not as tall as he was, as the height difference between the two of them was probably a mere 2 inches while her and him had been a large 11. What also separated the two of them was that the boy had such a princely aura; his back was purely straight and his steps were elegant and soft as he walked towards her. "What is the matter?" Even the way he talked showed no signs of the slang she knew nor the sarcasm or cockiness, and that saddened her. It was even a higher and more polite tone that the person she was thinking about could probably never achieve. Nonetheless, she looked upon the boy and plastered on a polite smile. "What ever do you mean?" she asked, her own voice in a fake "royal" tone. "I am quite fine." The boy softly smiled. "Well, you seemed so happy upon the sight of me, only for you eyes to dim a mere second later," the boy explained. Fiona's smile twitched, but she kept it on and chuckled off his statement. "Hahaha, I just mistook you for someone, is all," she waved her hand at him, which was covered by light pink silk gloves that went up to the middle of her forearm. "Ah, that must have been a letdown," the boy nodded, his face still adorned with a charming smile. "Though I do admit, I find myself jealous for that person." Fiona found herself tilting her head. "And why is that?" she asked. The boy smiled at her. "Because such a person has you beaming such a beautiful expression when you have sight of him," he responded. She didn't know why, but the boy's words made her blush in embarrassment. She was taken off guard when the boy suddenly but gently took ahold of one of her hands with his own, which were covered by white gloves. "If I may dare to ask, may I request a dance with you?" the boy asked. "I wish to see that expression of yours, even if it is not I who makes it." She could have declined his offer, just as she did to all the others, but something about him made her respond differently. "Alright," she had answered without actually realizing it, but the boy smiled at her response and whisked her out of the shadows of her hiding spot. He then placed her under the lights of the large chandelier hanging on the roof. He continued to grip her one hand and slipped his other to her back, Fiona realizing that he was making sure to not touch the delicate wings on her back. She didn't know why, but she blushed as she felt his hand pressed on her back and felt herself be swayed by his steps to the music. She glanced up right at his eyes, but they were under a veil of black due to the mask he had on. 'Does Drake know how to dance like this?' she wondered. 'Would this be what it feels like to dance with him?' Her immediate answer to her latter question was no, as she would probably have to look way higher than she was now to look him straight in the eyes; she only had to tilt her head slightly up to see the boy she was dancing with now and his eyes. The boy noticed her stare and merely smiled at her. "Do you see me?" the boy asked, "or perhaps you imagine another boy behind my eyes?" Fiona's own eyes grew wide under the mask and her face grew hot with both embarrassment and guilt. "I-I am so sorry," she stammered. "I do not mean any insult to you..." The boy just chuckled. "It is alright," the boy replied. "I understand what it is like to see the person you wish to see the most under the light of another." His response made Fiona grow curious. "What is your name?" she asked, realizing that she had never gotten an introduction from him. The boy merely smiled. "Would that mean you decree me as your choice?" the boy asked, making Fiona's eyes grow wide. "W-what?!" she squeaked, her voice losing its tone of maturity. She shook her head to regain her composure and said, "I-I do not see why a name has to mean that you are my choice for marriage." The boy continued to smile his mysterious grin. "Well, this is a masquerade, is it not?" the masked boy explained. "One is not supposed to know another's identity unless he or she has won your hand in marriage, correct?" Fiona pursed her lips, but she could not argue for he was right. That had been the rules set by her father and agreed to by herself. "What is your answer, then, my lady?" the boy asked as he continued to lead her to the rhythm of the music. "Will you give me your hand in marriage?" Fiona bit her lip as she allows herself to follow his lead. She couldn't help but be unable to contain her curiosity for this mysterious boy who had caught her attention. Thoughts rushed through her head as she tried to make a decision. On one hand, this boy did not seem to be looking for power as most of the other candidates were, and she did have to choose someone by the end of the night, but on the other hand, she knew that she had to love the person she married, and she could only see herself doing that in the most sincere way with... Fiona shook her head towards the boy. "I'm sorry," she apologized, dropping her mature act. "Though you are a very worthy candidate, I feel that it's wrong to you to let you have my hand in marriage when I do not love you." The boy's smile fell for a second but then returned as he stopped dancing and kneeled in front of her. He then took he back of her gloved hand and gently kissed it. "What if I could slowly make you love me, milady?" he inquired. "I would not force it; rather, I would hope to earn your love the right way." Fiona blushed at his bold gesture, but she smiled apologetically and shook her head again. By now the lobby had been silenced as all attention turned to the two of them. "I'm sorry," she repeated once more, gulping as she realized all the gazes that were upon her. "I..." She trailed off, wondering if she meant the words she was going to say next. She contemplated it for a bit, but then nodded more to herself and spoke with conviction. "My heart belongs to someone else." The whole room was suddenly filled with gasps and Fiona took another deep breath. "I, I am really sorry," she apologized softly to the boy in front of her, who gazed upon her with a blank expression. All of a sudden, however, the boy grinned, but it wasn't the mysterious grin he had on, no, it was a warm smile, one that Fiona recognized right away. The fairy gasped and put her gloved hands over her mouth in shock as the boy used one of his hands to stand up. "And what, I do so wonder, is this boy's name?" the boy said, his voice slightly deeper and more casual than earlier, which only continued to convince Fiona. Her gaze followed his own, her hands still covering her mouth in utter surprise. However, she immediately cast them away when she realized that he was waiting for her to answer. "It's yours, isn't it?" she whispered softly, quietly, afraid that if she spoke it any louder, it would be a lie. The boy shrugged. "That depends," he answered. "Like I said, knowing my name means I win your hand in marriage." The girl's eyes widened, and so did the crowd that was watching, which included both her father, the king, and her little sister. The entire crowd held their breath until Fiona's hands slowly took off her mask, revealing her teary green eyes. "Tell me," she murmured softly, trying to hold back tears that she didn't even know were of happiness or sadness. "Tell me your name." The boy gave a lopsided smirk and walked up closer to her. He gently caressed her cheek as he looked down at her, and Fiona let him as she felt his warmth leave an impression on her skin until his hand grasped her chin. He tilted it up before he spoke to her. "All your life, you've been called Faera," the boy said quietly. "You gave me the chance to call you a name that you hold dear to you, so I will do the same." His gaze upon her didn't move as he lifted his other hand and grasped his rosy mask. "My name.." He started to say as he started to pull off his mask. He didn't even have to take it off all the way for tears to start streaming down Fiona's face as the boy's masquerade... "is Draco." ...came to an end.

#{in between kingdoms [ic/ooc]}#Fiona #F #Drake #D #FD #{the fairy and the dragon [driona]}#mun writes #{the crystal writes}#{for the destined day [saved]}

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