#I lined the logo up and straightened it out as much as I could

[bitmeddler]

My high-res re-creation of the logo from Hermann’s SPACE CHAMPION helmet during his drift sequence with Newt.

#hermann you will always be our favourite CHAMPION of SPACE #seriously though this took me such a long time #I lined the logo up and straightened it out as much as I could #and then re-created each letter over a grid system to make sure they were straight #it was definitely a labour of love #hermann gottlieb #space champion #the drift #pacific rim #pacrim #newmann #a Bit of art #bitposting

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you.

> idol!jungkook x f!reader / fluff!! a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

> content/warnings: jimin cameo!!, a photobooth, oc gets a little hot & bothered bcs jk is a menace lol (they both are <3), touches a biiit on toxic relationships but this is pure fluff and yearning :p (the ex oc mentions is the same as the one mentioned in the first meeting drabble)

> songs: bad - wave to earth / just like magic - ariana grande

> in which masterlist!

note: just a sweet and silly drabble of jungkook being hopelessly whipped for oc before they even became official *to intensify the seven mv brainrot* no i didn’t plan this 🥲 + hehe this was only a week before the first kiss :p reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !! <3

—

“you really came!”

you run towards jungkook with a wide smile that reaches your eyes. the bag hanging on your shoulder swings and strikes your hip due to your excitement, but you could care less about the clinking of coins when there’s a bright star leaning on a lamp post, smiling back at you.

you stand before him as he straightens himself up, puffs of a fleeting cloud appearing as you pant lightly. “dummy, it’s so late. i told you to go to bed. aren’t you tired?”

“exactly, it’s so late.” he emphasizes your words to scold you, concern dripping from the tone of his soft voice. “of course i had to come.”

he tips his head to the side, sparkling eyes drinking you in as if he didn’t just see you the other night.

“you’re so adorable today.”

“thanks. is it because of this?” you happily scrunch your nose at the compliment, tugging at the strings of the brown knitted ear warmers wrapped around your head.

it is near midnight. drowning in the warmth of his bed to flee the freezing season, jungkook should be comfortably resting at home. however, he just had to look for your name in his contact list despite being absolutely knackered… and somehow he ended up here, because if he has been trading his sleep for work all these years, then he can also trade it any day to spend his midnights with you.

an endeared grin spreads on his face, rosy cheeks numb from the cold. “hm, teddy bear.”

a gust of silence passes by as your inquiring eyes survey the white plastic bag hanging from his hand, the company logo stamped in the middle of it familiar since childhood.

“what’s that? are you sick?”

“me?” he points at himself in confusion, shaking his head. “i’m not, though?”

“then why do you have-”

“ahhh- ah!” his face lights up as he is reminded of the other reason he came to you. he slaps his forehead with a chuckle. “i almost forgot.”

jungkook, although still a little shy around you, tries his best to initiate eye-contact when either one of you speaks to avoid giving off the impression that his mind is someplace else when you’re together. however, the mission becomes difficult when you meet his gaze wide-eyed, and he is… breathless.

“you haven’t been feeling well so… uhm, i got you vitamins and more medicine, just incase. here.”

your heart feels like it’s been wrapped in a cozy blanket meant to thaw the winter that has overstayed its welcome, spreading warmth and giddy sparks all the way to the tips of your fingers. you’re relieved that you wore gloves today; he didn’t get electrified when you took the thoughtful gift from his cold hand.

“really? even vitamins?”

the original plan was only to take a peek, but a word written in bold and colorful letters prompts you to bring out the cough medicine for a better look.

oh, jungkook.

you quickly slide it back inside the bag, a laugh accidentally slipping from your mouth. you press your lips into a thin line to suppress the rest of them bubbling in your chest.

“yah, why are you suddenly laughing? did i buy the wrong one?” he questions, nervous about his suspicions being correct.

he follows up with a matter-of-fact tone.

“you said you only like syrup when you have a cough, because it’s soothing.”

“it’s so sweet that you remembered that but…” you giggle, eyes watering as your body quakes with the intensity of it. the image of the packaging flashes in your mind, and you sniffle. “this is for babies.”

“but syrup is really for kids? are they not?”

his doe eyes are shining not with condescension but genuine innocence, and it makes this a whole lot funnier for you.

“yeah, i mean…” you pause as a puzzling realization washes over you.

oh my god, does this mean that this entire time… he’s been thinking that you gulp down bottles of cherry-flavored cough syrup for two-year-old’s? and he didn’t question that? at all?

“i guess you’re right. but they also have one for adults. i was drinking that.”

“huh, that’s what they gave me. and i just assumed-” he gestures at the medicine you’re grasping in your hands before he freezes.

with the clear view of it, he finally discerns how silly of a mistake he has made.

“i must be out of my mind today!”

he breaks out into a fit of laughter, putting a hand over his aching belly.

it’s a sound that has been evoking an inexplicable joy in you since the first time you heard it; a sound that you often miss lately. you still need to remind yourself not to stare at him for too long, scared that he’d be able to read these thoughts from a simple look at your face.

“still, it’s pink. and i bet that tastes better?”

you nod your head in agreement, pulling out the medicine once more to study the directions of use. “with the dropper and everything, i bet it’s a better experience.”

“shit, it- it even has a dropper?”

“i told you! it’s for babies!”

“babies?! no, no. this isn’t it. this won’t do.” he furiously shakes his head as he waves his hand in disapproval, crossing the distance between you to seize your wrist. “let’s go- come with me. let’s go back to the pharmacy. i’ll exchange it for the right one.”

“nope.” you refuse his demands with a smirk, stubbornly breaking away from his grip. “i don’t want to. i’ll keep this.”

“____, come on!”

“but you already gave it to m- jungkook!” you squeal when he makes a move to steal the item from your hands.

out of reflex, you hide them from him behind yourself. and unsurprisingly, that doesn’t deter jungkook’s endless supply of friskiness. he chases you as he reaches for your back, and you carelessly stumble multiple steps backwards to escape him. whimpering at the unexpected impact, you finally reach a dead-end, trapped between a wall and the boy who’s been making your winter a little less blue. your forehead lands on his chest, defeated, and he keeps you steady with a secure hold of your arms.

a harmony of breathy giggles imbues the silence of the deserted sidewalk.

“what are you even going to do with it? you can’t drink it anyway!”

you lift up your head with a drawn-out whine.

you can’t give him an answer.

to be honest, you’re just as clueless as jungkook is.

“ehhh?” he mimics the sound you made with an amused expression painted on his face. you’re too damn adorable for your own good, and it’s doing very dangerous things to his heart. “will you? are you a baby?”

the rhetorical question is a bait that you choose to bite.

“not really, but i can be your baby.” you shrug, melting him with a coquettish smile.

“ah, i see… is that term of endearment your type? you want to be mine?”

his teasing grin puts his dimples on display, and you desperately want to run back into your apartment just to spend a full minute screaming into your pillow. you’re thoroughly convinced that you’ve never felt more attracted to a person than you are to jungkook. this is bad news. you don’t know to what lengths you’re willing to go so that he could stay in your life for as long as you want. it’s terrifying and exhilarating.

“just to set the record straight, you want me to be yours.”

“and if i do? then what…? are you confident you can handle me?”

every nerve connected to your heart is a wire most alive when you yearn to bare it for another.

“try me.”

his hazy eyes falls to your lips and he goes a little crazier than he was the other night. it’s infuriating that you manage to make them look so soft and so inviting despite the frigid air. it’s dizzying, how his face is only inches away from yours and as always, you smell so sweet, just right. he wonders if you taste the same.

jungkook is dying to kiss you.

the thought has been plaguing his mind, haunting his dreams both day and night. he keeps screaming at himself to just fucking do it, but as much as he is impulsive, he doesn’t want to be the guy who catches you off guard. he doesn’t want you confusing your feelings for him with adrenaline. he wants the moment to feel right. he wants you to see that he’s sincere, and he’s nothing like those bastards who took you for granted…

selfishly, he wants this to be something real, co-existing with the fear of pushing you into a tornado of chaos that is his life.

his heart is pounding violently, he’s afraid it might jump through his sweater. the right moment feels like it could be right now, and he knows you feel it too. he observes your breathing getting heavier, and one of your restless hands has freed itself to grab a fistful of his sleeve.

your lips slightly part, and he doesn’t know if it’s the anticipation, or you did it on purpose to rile him up. he figures his jimin-hyung is right; he would be a fool if he allowed you to slip out of his hands. but truth be told, he’s the one wrapped around your finger.

fuck, fuck, fuck. he is doomed.

a pin drops and he is doomed.

his ringtone rattles the silence and slices through the tension between you. disappointment flashes across your face, and you visibly flinch at its loudness. you’ve grown to despise the incessant noise of telephone calls since moving to your apartment, one of your pet peeves jungkook is yet to hear about. panicked and irritated, he scrambles to dish out the vibrating device from the depth of his pocket.

“it’s… it’s my manager. but it’s fine, i’ll handle it.” he informs you quietly as he rejects the call, opting to send a text explaining his whereabouts.

a pang of guilt shoots through your heart.

“you can go home, it’s okay… i can take care of myself.”

“mhm-hm.” he shakes his head, still busy typing away. then, out of nowhere, he looks at you to properly plead. “don’t send me home yet.”

your eyes flicker to watch a piece of ice fall on his shoulder, white contrasting the black fabric of his jacket. another one lands on your hand, and then your collarbone. the stinging coldness, another thing that makes you flinch tonight. you look up to face the snowfall fiercely coming down, and it seems that the heaven opened up the sky to scold two lovesick teenagers tangled in a modern-day dalliance.

goddamn it, you curse.

“are you kidding me?” you grunt in frustration, eyebrows sharpening your previously dazed eyes.

jungkook barely manages to tap the deliver button before you begin dragging him to the roofed entrance of your apartment building.

“stay here. i’ll just grab an umbrella real quick.”

“okay.”

once he confirms that you’re out of sight, he releases a loud sigh, exasperatedly kicking a non-existent ball on the cemented floor.

“fuck! fuck! why? why do i move so slow? ah- they can’t just kill the mood like that. why-” he squeezes his eyes shut, pinching his nose bridge and putting a hand over his hip, so upset he can’t even speak straight. “we almost… shit, this is driving me insane… she hates me. she must hate me right now. i’m done for.”

—

the aggressive slam of the front door rings throughout your apartment, and you’re about ninety-nine percent certain you disturbed the sleep of a neighbor or two.

“then what?” you grumble to yourself, followed by a desperate cry. “then kiss me! do i really have to do everything myself?”

after grabbing the biggest umbrella you own from the basket you have beside your coat rack, you head to the kitchen where you leave behind what jungkook bought you.

eventually, your overthinking leads you to a bitter conclusion.

“does he not want something more? is he playing with me?!”

and if it was any other person, you’d be fine with that but… your gaze lands on the bottles of vitamins and cough medicine, and you sigh to regulate the accelerated beating of your heart.

“but i think i can finally do this right.”

your voice comes out above a whisper, and the verbal declaration alone fuels the hope in you.

you’re confused whether it’s a sign of luck or childishness. maybe the compensation for being well-acquainted with loss, or good karma if you decide to push it some more… but you always get what you want. despite the blood, sweat, and tears; even during the instances that you do give up, the universe somehow finds a way to arrange matters in your favor.

except you don’t want to give up on this just yet, and you don’t intend to just stand around waiting for the universe work its slow burn magic.

because you look out your bedroom window, and jungkook is squatting on the floor with his head in his hands, looking distraught as if he just lost the lottery and he was only a digit off.

you might be unsure about your label, but he sure wanted to kiss you pinned up against that wall.

—

jungkook casually steals glances from you every now and then. you’ve been softly humming to christmas songs as the ice underneath your feet crunches with every step you take, influenced by the heavy snowfall despite the holidays being long gone.

when you came back, he thought you’d be giving him the cold shoulder, reminiscent of when you got pissed off at a hair stylist not even a week ago (that day, he learned that you’re grumpy when sick, grumpier when jealous). but instead, you lent him a white fuzzy scarf to keep him warm.

“where are we going?” he asks, unaware of your destination.

he’s just been following your lead for the past five minutes or so. he only knows that you’re going someplace that will satisfy your midnight cravings, as you mentioned over the phone earlier.

“i haven’t told you?” you wince. “just mcdonald’s. i’m craving their fries… hmmm, and chocolate sundae.”

“sundae? but you have a cough.”

“i’m all better now! that’s why i’m getting it!” you keen with excitement.

except jungkook is worried. at home and at work, he has many people fussing over him when he’s not feeling well. most of the time, you only have yourself to rely on. he doesn’t like thinking about your past boyfriends, but he hopes that they took care of you when you would get sick. as for the future, he hopes that he’s there.

he perks up when he sees the pharmacy store he’s been thoughtfully scanning both sides of the streets for, recognizing the lightbox signage. “let’s stop here. i’ll buy you your adult syrup.”

“jungkook,” you giggle airily, pulling at his jacket to motion him not to go near it. “i just told you that i’m not sick anymore.”

“it’s better to be prepared.” he reasons.

the snowfall has ceased. he transfers the umbrella to his other side, freeing his hand to hold yours and tug you along with him. he childishly pretends to not hear your protests.

he’s not showing it, but he must be embarrassed about earlier. you can’t help but to smile from ear to ear, watching his back as you’re left a few steps behind, the two of you tied together by his warm and protective grip of your hand.

“jungkook,”

your voice is calmer and quieter. he whips his head back, concerned eyes twinkling from the blaring headlights on the road.

“i’m thirsty.”

—

you’re blissfully unaware of jungkook falling in love with you from the opposite side of the table.

thoroughly engrossed with the movie-like scene outside the glass wall, you’re clutching an apple juice box in both hands, plastic straw stuck between your lips as you take baby sips. he probably sounds like a broken record, but there’s something different in the air tonight, and you’re twice as pretty in his eyes.

“i can sue you for that, you know?”

he drops his phone in shock. he chases it in pure panic as it clashes with the table before tumbling down to his lap. when he puts it down, the screen is already black, a desperate attempt of hiding the raw evidence of his offense. he smiles back at you sheepishly, cheeks and ears flushed after being caught red-handed.

“aren’t i cute? you already made it your lockscreen, haven’t you?” you tease, eyes flickering up to him as you begin stabbing at the chocolate sundae with the little plastic spoon to mix it.

“made what my lockscreen? no, i didn’t!” he strongly denies, holding up his phone to show it to you.

“plain black, really? what happened to gureumie?”

you send him a look of distaste.

“just makes me believe i’m really your lockscreen and you change it to something random before you come see me.” you say in a sing-song voice, shivering with delight after you lick your spoon clean of the sugary treat.

“don’t start. yours is your class schedule!” he retorts with a laugh, which goes up in volume when you slap his hand away for attempting to steal from your fries.

you scowl at him with a displeased pout, dipping a fry into the sundae before popping it in your mouth. “get away. i’m hungrier because you took so long.”

the effect of having your cravings satisfied is instantaneous. it was absolute hell, being sick, albeit it was only a cough accompanied by fatigue. it’s simply no fun being an adult and having no one enter your room every two hours to check up on you. for the first time in the past week, your brain is completely flooded with happy chemicals, and you feel like a little kid kicking their feet with glee.

“it’s not my fault! they had to do something to the ice cream machine… i-i think it stopped working.” jungkook stutters, stuffing his mouth full with a spoonful of his strawberry sundae.

of course, it’s the ice cream machine. it’s always the ice cream machine.

with a gasp, you weakly slam the empty juice box on the table. “wow, i almost didn’t get what i came here for.”

“but you did. ‘cause you’re with your lucky charm.” jungkook cheekily winks at you, and you long to kiss that stupid grin off his face.

—

“holy shit, he’s kneeling down now. kook, he’s begging- look-”

jungkook is convinced he has never seen your eyes this big. he looks at you dumbfoundedly, cheeks full as he chews a huge bite of his burger. you release a sigh, reaching over to turn his face to the side.

outside, just a few feet away at the opposite direction his body is facing, he discovers an angry tear-stained woman sitting on a bench and a man crying on his knees infront of her.

he swallows, tilting his head. huh, so this is what you were watching earlier when you didn’t notice him arrive with the food. funnily enough, this isn’t considered an unusual occurence in such a populated city.

“i knew it. he’s cheating, he’s definitely cheating.” you squint at the scene, shooting daggers in your mind. you rely on muscle memory as you continue to munch and dip your fries in the sundae without bothering to look anymore.

they were still arguing when you gave jungkook your undivided attention, but the shift in the atmosphere captured your interest again when your peripheral vision caught him on the ground.

“how do you know?”

“he panicked and snatched his phone away when she touched it. that’s why they started fighting.”

a sick feeling in your gut deflects your eyes away from the forlorn couple, the salt and the sugar in your food starting to taste bland on your tongue. on the other hand, it seems that it’s jungkook’s turn to be absorbed in them.

“oh, that makes sense.” he mutters under his breath, eyebrows furrowing as he frowns. “seriously, i’ll never understand cheaters. why… would you go out of your way to hurt a person who’s special to you?”

and because of that, his food are left to be unsupervised. with the hopes of resparking your appetite by stealing a taste of something you haven’t had in over a year, you scoop up a small bite of his strawberry sundae.

“that person isn’t special anymore, or maybe they never were in the first place.”

“but if you’re loved by that person, even if you don’t feel the same way anymore, shouldn’t they still be special to you in some ways?”

he returns to his previous position, and the passion written in his eyes like constellations makes you want to believe that maybe the world isn’t a lost cause. it’s a breath of fresh air — the new point of view clear as day infront of you. jungkook is your best friend, it dawns on you then and there.

a best friend who sends you pictures of the sky. a best friend who won’t let you roam the midnight streets with melancholy. a best friend you want to kiss and hold hands with.

“they should, but they’re horny assholes who don’t think about stuff like that.”

“ah, then what a shame.” he chuckles with a scornful shake of his head, finally going back to devouring his burger.

it’s silent for a few beats.

right now, you like the strawberry flavor more than the chocolate. it tastes better than you remember. it’s rekindling an old flame.

“are you that type of boyfriend? who gives out their password?” your voice is rife with interest as you casually steal another spoonful of jungkook’s dessert.

“of course, i don’t mind. i have nothing to hide. i just have the most random photos, and like a thousand voice memos… but… how do i say it?” he pauses to organize his thoughts, eyes pointing towards ceiling. “uhm, it can get uncomfortable, and hurtful… if they always thoroughly check everything. i don’t know…”

“no, i get that. my ex was doubtful of me all the time and it was tiring. giving reassurance is important, but so is having boundaries… never forget that, understand?”

you radiate with so much tenderness, he finds it so easy to listen to every word that you say. but since you already understand the importance of balancing those two things, can he just forget about it and admire your face?

“is that why you broke up with him?”

you pucker your lips in thought, playfully twirling the plastic spoon between your fingers.

“i guess so? he… he just sees me as a bad person. and i was starting to believe that i am.” you decide to put it lightly, scoffing when the mortifying memories of him floods your mind. “when i had that epiphany, i broke up with him right away. we just weren’t good for each other.”

jungkook utters your name, mellow and sweet, like a serenade.

you’re reminded that he sings for a living.

“hmm?”

“i don’t know what happened between you but… when i say you’re a good person, i’m really being sincere.”

during the fall, talking about your past relationship made your heart feel unbearably heavy.

but tonight, it’s winter. jungkook holds out his little spoon to feed you a bite of his strawberry sundae, and you accept it without thinking.

uh-oh.

you peer up to him shyly.

“and because you were so kind to me the first time we met, i don’t mind you being a thief.” he fondly strokes your hair, and you squeeze your eyes shut as your body vibrates with giggles. “aigoo, you eat so well. good job, ____.”

—

“where you are taking me? this isn’t the way home!”

jungkook has an arm around swung over your shoulder, gluing you to his side as you walk together. the last time you checked the time, it was 1:27am. the stores you brush past are already lights off, locked up, and the sidewalk is mostly dead and quiet.

“i really like taking photos, you know?” he grins, sounding thrilled, and you glance at him with suspicion in your eyes.

“i’m very much aware. and so?”

you yawn not long after, leaning some of your weight on him as tiredness seeps into your overused muscles. you’re awfully sleepy, and cold. you can hear your bed calling out your name from kilometers away.

“so we’ll take some together.”

from a distance, you immediately recognize the famous photobooth only several buildings away from the noisy night life of the long rows of bars and nightclubs.

you feel your knees go weaker.

oh, you’re in very serious trouble.

—

curse jeon jungkook.

curse him and his muscular thighs.

“sit here?” he pats his lap as an invitation, looking up to your motionless figure still standing infront of the closed curtain. “or do you want me to stand behind the chair?”

curse him and his intoxicating perfume and his arm wrapped around your waist.

“four photos and… we’ll print… two copies.” he thinks out loud, face so close to yours as he taps on the screen infront.

curse the stupid person who decided to only put one small stool in this small photobooth.

you won’t dare to make it obvious, but your heart is doing somersaults. you realize how arrogant you were for whining about him not kissing you yet, because here you are trying your hardest not to squirm as you’re sat across his lap.

unconsciously, you embrace the scarf he took off close to your chest.

it’s… been quite a long, torturous while of being deprived of physical touch. and you like jungkook. you like jungkook so much that despite hating cramped spaces, you flash the camera a sweet smile while playfully squishing his pouty face in your hand.

“oh, oh, that’s right!”

a yellow lightbulb appears above his head. he bounces his legs to capture your attention, his arms tightening around your waist to prevent you from falling off.

you cross your thighs to subtly squeeze them together, a poor attempt at putting out the fiery tingles spreading throughout your body. you swallow thickly. he needs to fucking sit still. your self-control is running thin.

“act angry at me and i’ll put it as the first picture, okay?”

“huh? why?”

“so i’ll always remember that you got annoyed at me for dragging you here.”

“and i’m still annoyed!” you slap his chest with a frown, glaring at him exactly as he imagined you would.

his mischievous grin stays when he faces the camera, winking and throwing up a peace sign as the flash goes off.

when the timer starts again, he rushes to reach for the floor, sticking his hand in the paper bag from the pharmacy.

“for the next one- stay still-”

you’re completely clueless. your vision remains fixed on him until he reveals a bunch of pink ribbon hairclips on his big palm.

“where did you get these?” you blink at him.

he only shushes you as he removes the earwarmers from your head, thoughtfully fixing your hair before carefully adorning it with the ribbons as fast as he can.

“the ice cream machine wasn’t broken, was it?”

“shhh, we’re running out of time.” he rebukes you to mask his bashfulness, teeth sinking in his bottom lip as he focuses on arranging the ribbons symetrically.

“are these mine?”

“yours.” he confirms absentmindedly. he backs up to inspect his work, but he only ends up thinking to himself is it right for someone to be this beautiful?

the time runs out before you can deem yourself ready. the camera captures jungkook trying to tame your baby hairs, and you, watching him with a faint smile of affection.

“what do we do now?”

he shrugs. “let’s do whatever we want.”

“wow, i can finally do what i want?” you reply sarcastically. “i thought you were prepared for this.”

“three seconds!”

since you’re already smiling in the other two photos, you figure that it’s your turn to pout in the last.

the number ‘1’ appears on the screen, and you feel him pull you closer than you’ve ever been.

curse jeon jungkook.

curse him and his hand on your neck and his soft lips pressed to your cheek.

—

“you’re sneaky.”

“you’re one to talk.” jungkook replies, and you roll your eyes.

he chuckles to himself as he scans his copy of the photostrip under the street lamp beside the photobooth. on the other hand, your back is resting against it, your arms crossed over your chest. you take a fleeting glance at him, secretly smiling to yourself because he looks so happy.

yours is tucked in between the pages of the book inside your bag.

later. you can look at it later when you’re a little more sane and the ghost of his lips stops lingering on your skin.

“i don’t just let myself get kissed for free. don’t you know that?” you heave a dramatic sigh, feigning annoyance. “but since you bought me new clips,”

you turn your cheek to stare at him, but you instantly break the eye contact when you see how he looks like an excited puppy when he’s amused by you.

“…i’ll let this pass.”

“i think i just found the motivation to make more money today.”

you crack up at his words. “shut up!”

god, you’re getting swayed by his antics. he has too much hidden underneath his sleeve. you need to up your game.

a breeze sweeps across the earth, and you sniffle as you stuff your hands in your pockets. it’s getting colder and your battery is draining rapidly as the clock ticks. you die a little inside when you think about the consequences of your late-night adventure. there has to be time for you to squeeze in a nap between school and work, right? right? unbeknownst to you, jungkook takes notice of your weary state. he crosses the distance between you to wrap the ear warmers around your head.

“tsk, you’re going to catch a cold.” he whispers, loosely tying the straps under your chin. he reaches for a ribbon, but then pauses to ask for permission. “do you want to take off these now, so you won’t fall asleep on them? these are kind of sharp.”

“stop taking such good care of me.” you say half-jokingly, starting to remove them on your own. “i might get used to it.”

this upsets jungkook, it seems.

his lips are in a permanent pout as he answers, eyebrows knitting together. “what’s wrong with that?”

you only shake your head with a vague smile.

—

JK :

4:11am

[sent four photos]

credit GCF if you post on insta

got it?

you’re welcome !!!

4:13am

hehe you must be sleeping now right?

you better be !

4:18am

the truth is i’m a bit shy to tell you this in person but ... thank you for being someone i can spend time with comfortably and for always making me smile. i really like you a lot .. i mean that sincerely too

sweet dreams ____ :)

—

“goodnight, jungkook.”

you stood on your toes to kiss his cheek, painstakingly chaste yet sinfully calculated. he was left all alone in the empty hallway of your apartment floor, too stunned to remember and return your scarf.

it is not the first time you did that, but his mind is reeling like crazy tonight — the corner of his lips is still stained with the graze of your lips.

a rhythmic knock snaps him out of the electrifying memory.

“jungkook-ah,” a freshly-awoken jimin raspily croaks out while he rubs his blurry eyes. “did you bring home anything?”

is this becoming a routine now? him visiting at an ungodly hour in the morning; jungkook sitting up without a word to retrieve the snacks from under his bed.

“thank you.”

he receives an appreciative pat on the back before jimin grabs one of the diamond-shaped biscuits you earnestly made a whole tray of, enough to go around for seven people. he nibbles on it as he flops down on the mattress, planning to sleep here some more until it’s time to prepare for work.

however, his drowsiness gets pushed to the back burner when the photostrip beside the maknae’s pillow attracts his attention.

“yo, jungkook! is this from tonight?”

“hyung! be quiet!” jungkook whisper-shouts.

“the staff didn’t mention a photobooth to me. is this a secret?” the late-night visitor whispers back to humor him.

the bed creaks as he chases the printed memories from jimin’s grasp, who seems to have gained enough energy to tease him, heartily giggling as he rolls away to the edge of the bed.

“yah, you’re so cute together?!”

jungkook’s bunny teeth pop out as he’s unable to resist a satisfied beam at the flattering remark. damn right, they do.

pulling out a pillow from behind him, he playfully hits jimin with the huge bundle of cotton. “hyung, finish eating and go back to sleep. we have that thing later, remember?”

“you’re hurting my feelings. what happened to telling your hyung about your crush?”

—

“wait a second- i’m still confused. you sprinted to the fashion boutique before ordering?” jimin flips over to lie down on his stomach, speech muffled by the biscuit between his lips.

“they close at midnight, so i had to run there first.” jungkook explains as he reseals the tupperware. weirdly, he only feels the ache in his body now that he’s talking about it. “she really likes things like that.”

“you’ve told me. so how long do you plan on keeping that in here?”

his gaze lands on the paper bag labelled ‘CHANEL’ on the other side of the room, and he makes a pained expression, still agonizing over whether he should give it to you or not.

“but don’t you think it’s too much? maybe i should save it for her birthday.”

“be honest with me. does she even know you’re courting her?”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

[yanderecrazysie]

Let It Hurt Part 2 (Yandere Bakugou)

This was a Quotev request! I honestly wasn’t entirely sure how to continue this, but I did my best!

Title: Let It Hurt (Part 2)

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, swearing, abuse of power

Summary: Your boss’s requests begin to disturb you.

Part 1: here

“So let it hurt, let it bleed

Let it take you right down to your knees

Let it burn to the worst degree

May not be what you want, but it's what you need

Sometimes the only way around it

Is to let love do it's work.”

-from “Let It Hurt” by Rascal Flatts

Your boss’s requests go far beyond what’s normal.

Your job as personal assistant started out normally, it really did. Just filing paperwork for the boss and organizing his schedule. Nothing special.

Then it wasn’t normal.

“You’ve got a new uniform.”

Mr. Bakugou wasn’t asking when he handed over the uniform and you’re confused from the get-go. No one else in the office wore a uniform- there was a dress code, sure, but not a uniform. 

You expected a polo shirt with the company’s logo on it, but that wasn’t the case at all. Inside the packaging he’d handed you was a fairly low-cut button-up shirt with thin material that you could almost see through and a tight skirt that was just barely long enough to be appropriate.

You confronted him immediately, but he convinced you that it was nothing personal. “This is what every personal assistant wears” and “If you quit over something like this, I’ll make sure to tell every company you apply to just how petty you are.”

He had connections- there was no way you could fight this anymore. It was appropriate, and that was enough, wasn’t it? Mr. Bakugou sure seemed to think so, with the way his eyes trailed over your form every time you walked by his desk.

The next request was to move your desk right next to his. You’d been in the corner and you had been happy there, but no longer would you have any privacy. But this wasn’t something you could refuse- you were his personal assistant after all.

It just felt creepy to be watched so often.

Mr. Bakugou started requesting that you ate at your desk. If you wanted something from the break room, he’d get it for you. He was the only other person in the office that ate at his desk. You missed talking with your coworkers and not looking down at your sandwich in silence, being scrutinized by your intimidating boss.

Then, he started asking you to tie his tie every morning. Apparently he’d been wearing clip-ons and why he decided to change to normal ones now was a mystery to you. Maybe it was because he seemed to get a kick out of how your trembling hands did their best not to brush against his clothed chest.

He had the smuggest smile you’d ever seen when he asked you to button up his shirt one morning. That’s where you drew a line and he immediately had his hands up in defense, claiming that he’d just been joking and telling you to lighten up. You wanted to believe that, but then why did he leave his shirt unbuttoned in the first place?

Today, you felt as though an even worse request was lingering, unasked, in the air. You couldn’t explain it, but you could tell your boss was mulling over how to ask you the question he wanted to. 

It was late. Much later than the time you were supposed to leave, but that was nothing new. He seemed to like keeping you overtime, but you couldn’t put your finger on the reason why. Was it a powertrip, perhaps?

With shaky hands, you continued filing his paperwork, doing your best not to make any mistakes under his sharp eye. He made a noise of dissent suddenly, making you jump in your seat and pivot to face him immediately.

“You’ve been avoiding me lately,” he scoffed. Your back straightened in your chair in confusion and slight fear at his pissed tone.

“How can I avoid you? I never leave the office.” It was true- except to go home, you never left the office once during work hours and beyond.

“That’s not what I mean,” Mr. Bakugou’s voice raised, angrier at your response than you expected. Your lip quivered a little as you shrank into yourself, trying to make yourself as small as possible. “You’re avoiding my gaze, you’re not talking, you’re just… ugh.”

You were confused. The two of you never talked and you’d always avoided his gaze, even before this personal assistant promotion. Had you been somehow doing that more often these days, perhaps to avoid getting asked to do something terrible?

“Sorry,” you couldn’t help the meek apology from slipping from your lips automatically, “I must have been a little overwhelmed. I’ll… I’ll work harder not to…”

“Come here.” Mr. Bakugou demanded sternly. 

Gulping down your trepidation, you shakily walked in front of his desk, where he’d asked you to stand. He beckoned you even closer with a finger and you stepped closer until your knees were pressing against the mahogany.

“Lean over, idiot.” Ah, the insults. You hadn’t heard those in a while.

You hesitantly did so and a smirk spread across his face.

“Kiss me.”

“Wh-what?!” You were sure you’d misheard somehow, taking a shaky step backwards to physically distance yourself in case he decided to fulfill the request on his own.

“Hmph, I thought maybe you’d comply. Maybe you grew a spine after that shirt button incident,” Mr. Bakugou didn’t seem too upset, more like he was bored of your answer.

“Yes, well, both requests are extremely inappropriate. I-I’ll be leaving now. And I’ll be speaking to HR in the morning!” You suddenly felt braver, now that he didn’t seem angry at you. Sure, you didn’t have any proof, but maybe they’d take you seriously. If not, you’d quit and find a job not in this damned field!

Mr. Bakugou rested his fist on his fist, a slight smile on his face. A genuine one, not a smirk or smug grin like you were used to, “Go ahead, babe.”

Babe?! You stood up and stormed out of the office, not bothering to clock out. He could do that for you, that asshole. You were done with all of his shit requests and treatment.

Too bad you’d never get a chance to take it all up with HR in the morning.

Not when Mr. Bakugou had a backup plan.

#yandere #yandere one shot #yandere x reader #one shot #yandere my hero academia #my hero academia #yandere bakugou #bakugou katsuki

[shadowisles-writes]

Foxy [Elucien]

A/N: Written for a request sent to @sjmkinkmeme : "Elucien modern AU where Elain buys Lucien fox ears and tail as a joke and realizes she’s a little too into it 👀 Gratuitous furry smut ensues." Another piece that is just plotless Elucien smut because there will never be enough of it out here. (apologies for the shitty title but I didn’t have it in me to find better.)

read on AO3

Word count: 2614

Warnings: smut (if you’re under 18 go awayyyy)

.

Elain was at work when the box came.

Lucien instantly knew that the plain brown package was trouble. The absence of a brand name or logo could only mean one thing: Elain had ordered from a sex shop again. The discreet packaging was something he now saw as a warning sign.

“Please don’t be another strap on,” he mumbled as he ripped the tape off the box. Not that he minded strap ons, really, but the last one had come with a much larger dildo than what he was used to and if Elain ordered another size up they were going to need a serious talk about what his body could and could not take.

Lucien opened the box carefully and retrieved the smaller package from it; there were always so many more boxes and wrappings than what was necessary. The second the contents were spread out on the table, Lucien was picking up his phone and calling Elain.

“Tell me you’re joking,” he felt absolutely ridiculous with the pair of fox ears in his hand. 

“About what?”

“A package just arrived, I’m sure you remember what’s in it,” Lucien explained, his hand smoothing over the matching tail that was attached to a butt plug.

“A wha- oh,” the realization hit Elain. “Yes I do remember,”

“Tell me you’re joking,” he reiterated.

“I couldn’t help myself,” Elain giggled. “You’d make an adorable fox. I think the ears should match your hair.”

“They do match my hair,” he grumbled on the other end of the line, running his thumb over the soft fur.

“Send me a picture?”

“No. You can see for yourself when you come home.”

“Alright, can’t wait for tonight! I love you,” Elain said cheerfully while he sighed.

“I love you too, El.”

.

“Hi sleepyhead,” Elain smiled and ran her hand up Lucien’s side before brushing her fingers through his hair. The sun was almost set outside, indicating that Lucien had been napping for much longer than he’d planned to. The covers had fallen off his naked body, the room warm enough for him to sleep without them. He wasn’t sure how long Elain had been sitting by his side, but she was clearly enjoying the view.

“Kiss,” Lucien demanded before anything else, eyes still half closed. 

Elain leaned in obediently, giving him a soft kiss before straightening up. Something tickled his thigh when he shifted positions, and it only took a moment for Lucien to remember the tail. He had put it on along with the ears after the call, curious despite his initial protests to Elain.

 “You look adorable.” Elain kept on playing with his hair.

“Almost forgot about that,” He lifted his hand up to his head and found the ears still on his head. He went to pull them off, but Elain was quick to grab his wrist.

“No!” She pouted. “Leave them on,”

“Alright,” Lucien stretched his arms up over his head and stifled a yawn.

“Stand up so I can see better?” Elain bit her lip as she asked.

Way past the point of being embarrassed by anything in front of her, Lucien grinned and rolled out of the bed to obey. He let her look for as long as she wanted, her eyes trailing from the ears and his face down the expanse of his toned chest and abs. Lucien watched as she absentmindedly licked her lips when her eyes reached his cock and traveled down his thighs. Elain gestured for him to turn so that she could see the fox tail in his ass.

Lucien humored her further and crawled onto the bed on all fours. “Satisfied?” he cocked his head to the side, a look he knew too well settling in her eyes.

“Shh, pets don’t talk,” Elain sat beside him and stroked his back.

The soft touch of her fingers on his skin elicited shivers, but he remained still as she caressed his hair, touching the ears he was wearing before tracing down his spine towards the tail. Elain’s palm rubbed a soothing circle on his ass and she reached for the tail, letting it run through her hand once, twice, before she gently tugged on it.

Lucien groaned at the sensation, and her skilled little fingers found the base of the tail to give the plug it was attached to a soft push. His cock twitched in response, hard with precum already beading from the tip. Elain ignored it, running her fingers up his back again, down his side and then back up.

The featherlight touches shouldn’t have affected Lucien as much as they did.

A moment later, Elain’s lips found his shoulder, leaving kisses on every inch of skin as she made her way to his neck. Her fingers brushed his hair out of the way so that she could kiss the back of his neck, and Lucien couldn’t help but moan. Elain nipped at the soft spot beneath his ear and soothed it with her tongue. Her lips spread into a smile when she felt his throat vibrate from another groan.

“Will you be a good pet for me?” She asked. Lucien could only nod, desire the only thing he could feel. “Roll over.”

His head on a pillow, Lucien admired the grace with which Elain managed to remove her clothes. His eyes greedily took in every inch of skin she revealed, his hands twitching at his sides with the urge to reach for her and touch every part of her.

“Here’s the thing,” Elain sighed, now fully naked. “You could have been nice and sent a picture earlier,” she climbed onto the bed and straddled his torso. “But you didn’t. So now, I don’t really want to be nice to you either.”

Lucien couldn’t read the expression on her face, but there were only so many things she could do to get back at him. Elain wasn’t dominant by nature, she enjoyed having some control to experiment and Lucien gladly gave it to her, but punishing wasn’t something she’d ever done. The worst Elain had done to him was probably edge him three times in a row or give his ass a single spank.

So, Lucien remained perfectly relaxed on the bed, no words leaving his mouth as she had instructed while he waited for her next move. She was still hovering, giving him a perfect view of her pussy and the slickness on her inner thighs as she ran her hands over his shoulders and down his chest. One hand lingered over his heart for an extra moment, on the spot Elain liked to kiss before she rested her head there to fall asleep. He nearly pushed himself up to kiss her then, overcome with the need to be closer, but the curiosity of finding out what she would do was stronger.

Lucien was not disappointed when she moved up over his chest, hands reaching for the headboard until she had scooted all the way up to his face. His heart sped up with excitement and his cock twitched eagerly despite remaining untouched. If this was Elain’s idea of not being nice, then Lucien wanted her to be mean way more often.

 The first time he had made her sit on his face, she had stressed herself out over it so much that Lucien had to stop and flipped them over to place her underneath him. Even now she rarely initiated it, worried she’d be too heavy, that she’d prevent him from breathing or some other nonsense he would need to knock out of her head once he was allowed to speak again.

Lucien groaned as one of Elain’s hands found purchase in his hair, her fingers caressing the fox ears before tangling in the strands spread out on the pillow. He reached for her thighs in response, tracing up and down before he locked his arms around her and tugged her down onto his face. His tongue was instantly tracing broad licks over her, the smell and taste of her overtaking his senses.

Elain moaned quietly, bottom lip caught between her teeth as her hips bucked against his face. Lucien tightened his grip on her and pulled her further down to lick and suck the way she needed him to. He knew every inch of her body by heart, knew every move he needed to make to get her to come undone. Every roll of her hips, every moan and whimper drove his fingers to dig further into her soft thighs to keep them steady as Elain began to shake.

Curses fell from her lips through gasps as she came, but she made no move to lift herself away from his mouth. Elain whimpered her way through the overstimulation, trembling as Lucien kept a steady rhythm until he pulled a second orgasm out of her.

“Oh gods, oh gods,” she breathed out and pulled on his hair harder to get him to release her legs when it all became too much. She barely found the energy to lift herself and swing a leg off his body before she collapsed on the mattress to catch her breath.

Lucien rolled over her an instant later, refusing to let her get far and placing her on her stomach before lifting her hips up. Elain wanted him to be an animal, so now he was going to fuck her like one. He slid into her with a long thrust that had Elain’s eyes watering with pleasure. She helplessly tried to raise herself with her arms, but her muscles betrayed her and she fell face first into the mattress as Lucien leaned forward to brace a hand beside her head.

His skin slapped against hers, and each thrust would have pushed her forward if it weren’t for the death grip he kept on her hip. Elain let the bliss take over her; her lips parted to let uncontrolled, breathless moans tumble out each time Lucien’s thrusts knocked the air out of her lungs. He answered with groans every time she clenched around his cock, pushing harder and harder to be as deep inside her as he could possibly get.

The delicious friction and heightened sensitivity made Elain’s muscles tighten in no time, her entire body shuddering as she squeezed his cock tighter and came all over him. Lucien fucked her through it, his fingers digging into her hip hard enough to bruise until it all became too much for him and he filled with one last deep thrust.

Elain’s body went limp beneath him as he released her hip. They both hissed quietly when he slid out of her, their mixed fluids falling onto the mattress. Lucien muttered a curse and let himself fall beside her, the weight of his arm remaining on her back. He nuzzled his face against her shoulder gently and pressed a few kisses to her warm skin.

Elain wasn’t ready to form words, but she managed to hum her satisfaction. It took a few more moments for her to be able to turn herself to face him and her soft brown eyes to meet his. They exchanged nothing but blissed out smiles for several minutes, no words needed as they basked in the afterglow.

“Shower?” Lucien traced a line up and down Elain’s arm as he asked.

“Can’t walk yet,” she mumbled in response.

Her eyes rolled at Lucien’s proud grin, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and shuffled closer to him when he braced himself and grabbed her waist to pull her up with him. Elain rested her cheek against his warm shoulder and let herself get carried to the bathroom. She held on until he set her down on the shower’s tiles and turned the water on, the shower head angled away from her so that she wouldn’t be sprayed with cold water.

“You make a really really hot fox,” Elain reached for his tail.

Lucien turned his back to her and leaned forward to brace a hand against the wall. Taking her cue, Elain pushed herself to her knees and carefully grabbed the base of the plug still inside of him. She was careful as she pulled it out, a quiet grunt falling from his lips at the stretch.

“Here,” she murmured as she handed the tail to him.

Lucien walked over to the sink, placing it down to be cleaned before removing the ears from his head. He turned to find her standing—though she kept a hand on the wall—and angling the shower head towards her body. A small sigh escaped her lips as she felt the comfortable warmth of the water rushing along her skin.

Elain smiled and relaxed further when she felt Lucien at her back, his arms comfortably wrapping around her waist to allow her to rest against him. She reached for the shower gel and squeezed some product into his palm before putting the bottle back in its place. Lucien slowly rubbed the product between his hands to warm it before he began tracing circles on Elain’s skin.

He took his time cleaning her, massaging her skin beneath the stream of hot water before washing her hair. He methodically combed his fingers through the wet strands with conditioner, making sure her hair wasn’t badly tangled before rinsing it out and leaning forward to kiss her shoulder.

“All done,” he murmured.

Elain turned in his arms and kissed over his heart before she returned the favor. Her small hands worked along the muscles of his chest, circled his shoulders and found their way to his back in soothing motions that made Lucien’s eyes fall shut. He moved as necessary to let her work and sat down for her to be able to wash his hair comfortably.

“All done,” Elain echoed his previous words when she finished rinsing the conditioner out of his hair.

Lucien’s skin heated from his magic when they stepped out of the shower, drying him almost instantly. He opened the small window to allow air in and let the steam out and flicked his wrist to create a warm wind that prevented Elain from shivering as she wrapped her towel around herself.

“Here,” Lucien carefully lifted the mass of wet hair from her back and used one hand to slowly sweep over it. It only took a minute for his magic to dry all of Elain’s hair before he took care of his own.

“Thank you,”

“Take a minute,” he let his fingers brush her shoulder. “I’ll order us something to eat.”

Lucien left her with one last kiss, giving her space and pulling a pair of sweatpants up his legs before heading to their living room to wait for her. He ordered Elain’s favorite from the closest restaurant so that it would get to their house fast and made himself comfortable on the couch to scroll through his phone.

“What are you looking at?” Elain walked in a few moments later, dressed in one of his t-shirts and cotton shorts.

“I’m trying to decide which color matches your hair best,” Lucien smiled and turned his screen for her to see the set of ears and tail he found for her.

“This one,” she picked for him and clicked add to cart. “Why are there five other items in your cart?”

“Don’t look,” he clicked his tongue and grabbed the phone from her. “The others are surprises.”

Elain chuckled as she dropped herself on the couch and rested her head in his lap so that she couldn’t look at his screen. “When are my surprises arriving?”

“Friday. I think we might need to cancel Saturday’s lunch with your sisters.”

“I’ll text Nesta.”

.

Tags:  @dealfea @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens  @abooknerdlove @dwnofav @deedz-thrillerkiller16  @shisingh @ruthieluvsbooks  @a_little_disguised @earthofemily @halaberdara @sydney-fae25 @meher_sumedha

#elucien #elucien smut #acotar smut #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #lucien x elain #elain archeron x lucien vanserra

[rae-gar-targaryen]

Today I’m thinking about the girl I was assigned roommates with my freshman year of college. She’s a fraternal twin, and it was one of the first and only things she would tell you about her as an ice-breaker. I think we were paired up because we had similar sleeping habits and (surprisingly) similar music taste.

She was beautiful. Thin. Amiable. Went out most weekends. Perfectly nice and well-liked. Her side of the room was minimalist -- next to no decoration, save for on-trend clothes strewn on her bed (and sometimes on mine), and an overflowing makeup bag as the only item on her desk, other than her laptop. 

My side of the room was overflowing with books. I dyed my own bedsheets to be vibrant and floral colors with my mom before leaving home. I tacked up posters and pictures on my side of the room, and my desk was piled high with my textbooks, my journals, the books I was reading, and my straightening iron.

We listened to music together while we got ready in the morning. To Passion Pit, she agonized over every last detail of her outfit before heading off to her nursing classes, while I struggled to find the appropriate plaid shirt/graphic tee combination for my daily trek to the other end of campus, to the run-down journalism building at the end of a tree-lined street. 

We would sometimes talk late into the night. 

I learned that she would critique my taste in books to her friends (and her friends back home via Facebook chat). Even if she hadn’t read them. I had a pair of coca cola logo patterned sleep shorts that I wore sometimes when it was hot. And whenever she would chat with a guy-friend from back home, he would comment on them. If I was in the room when they chatted, he’d greet me too, with a nice smile and a, “Hey, Coca-Cola!” 

I learned later that she told him not to flirt with me, and that I was a “freak.” She would say similar things to the other girls in our dorm. 

Midway through our first semester, she had this...I don’t know if I would call it a breakdown. She was homesick. She was unhappy and stressed in her classes. She felt like no one was listening to her when she was trying to express her unhappiness, and that she didn’t belong. I empathized with her. I felt the same. Don’t we all at 18? But I felt very assured that I was in the right place for me. I stayed up with her that night, made her tea in our dorm room kettle. I put my arm around her and let her cry on my shoulder.

I took out one of my journals and read her one of my essays, and one of my poems. I felt like in my other life before this one, I had expressed exactly what she was feeling in that moment. Different time. Different place. She didn’t give much away at the time, other than to commend my writing. To tell me she thought it was apt to her situation. That she was thankful. I encouraged her to find a different major that actually spoke to her interests, and would maybe come with a more manageable workload. I offered to let her have the room to herself on Sundays for longer so she could video call with her family. 

Things got easier and easier with us all the time. I never admitted to her that I knew what she had said about me. I didn’t see the point.

Flash forward to the next semester. She was waiting for me in our room one afternoon when I’d had a cancelled class. She told me she was sorry. When I asked “for what,” she revealed that she had gone through my journal -- and the other ones like it in my desk drawer. She’d told me that I was a good writer. As if that made it better. She wanted to read more of what I’d written because it had made her feel better. As if THAT made it better. Never mind that there were years’ worth of personal entries about my own struggles with myself. With the people in my life -- most she didn’t know. But a few she now did. With how I’d learned that she (and other girls in our dorm) had said nasty shit about me behind my back. 

Poems about heartbreak (of course). Attempts at writing songs (terrible, really). Half-finished ideas and thoughts that manifested themselves as adjective-heavy imagery when other words wouldn’t do the trick. (Nonsensical). 

She said she’d known it was a fucked up thing to do. But that she was sorry. Incidentally, her family was in town visiting that week, and chose that moment to arrive to pick her up. They came back and later thanked me for helping her through her moments of homesickness. That she had told them all about my journals. And “wow, she says you’re such a thoughtful person and good writer.”

We finished out the year, and I listened to her when she needed someone. But I never felt like I should offer to share myself with her again. She got better and better as time went on, and changed her major to psychology. She found her stride and started going to parties again. Was back to being how I knew her. 

To this day, I don’t know how to feel about her. About our time living together. I think sometimes about how we would cry together. About how someone so beautiful could feel the same as I did -- like they didn’t have a place where they were. And how we tried to make it better for the other. We haven’t spoken in years. But I remember ourselves as vulnerable 18-year-olds who bonded over obscure bands and fear of the unknown .... and little else. Those memories and people have their place in how you’re shaped. I’m sure of it. For some reason, she crossed my mind today. I hope she’s well. And that she learned how to speak less of others when she thought they couldn’t hear it. I still have all the journals.

#personal #to be deleted

[apricusdays]

The Council’s Retort

“Mayor Lowell, someone is here to see you. They insist it’s urgent council business.”

The mayor lifted his head up from the desk. Even after a year the expenses for rebuilding the damage to the city in terms of institutional power, people, buildings and money had been high. Not enough to cripple the city, but it was noticeable- very noticeable. Even tacos had gone up just a little. Increasing the train ticket price was floated several times, but he had forbidden it. The transportation was the heart of the city’s functionality and if less people could use it, the ripple effect would be immense. Urgent council business that couldn’t wait to the meetings almost never went through the secretary- the council contacted the mayor personally. “Who is it?”

“It’s... Mr. R, sir...”

Mayor Lowell straightened up with interest. This was a man who never showed his face for any reason. Why now? Before answering, he brought up a screen and hit a button on it- a signal to the council to listen into the room if they chose. He didn’t know too many besides Hector or Damien to ignore it. He closed the screen and hid the glowing part of his aShine behind a large cuff.

“Send him in.”

The door opened to a tall man in an elaborate black mask decorated in streaks of white and blue. His suit was equally opulent, matching the pattern. Beyond that his features were strangely unremarkable and neatly cropped hair was obscured by a hat. Mr. R. walks up to the mayor and stops a few steps short of the seats and sets a briefcase down next to him with the logo of Paradise Entertainment. “Hello, Mr. Mayor.”

“Well well... you do exist.” The Mayor took a careful measure of this Mr. R. There wasn’t a lot being given away in his posture or what little of his face that he could see. Like everyone in Paradise Entertainment, he was anonymous. Despite the his best efforts, any attempts to discover the identities of their members had ended in failure no matter who he went through. For now he was going to play it calmly. “What brings you here Mr...? I’m sorry, but I dislike calling people by anything but their first name. How should I refer to you?”

Mr. R’s chest jumped in a singular chuckle. “You can call me Plutus- Plutus Romulus. So long as that stays between us and the rest of the council I don’t mind sharing one little thing about myself.”

The mayor lifted an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Rest of the council? Plutus, I’m afraid that ship sailed years ago. A few of the other members were willing to entertain the idea of you joining but you refused to step forward. I cannot simply bring it back up out of nowhere. Your influence over an entire district certainly qualifies you, but you need more than money and power to be a part of the city’s ruling body.”

“That didn’t stop you from letting in that self-absorbed cult leader afterward and cutting Cheshire’s district in half. You keep talking about how important everyone here is to the city. I offer more than half of them. The church? The temple? Cherry Hills? What good are they, really? You can blather on about culture and tradition all you want, but we all know where people really go when they want to have some fun.”

Lowell set his jaw and wiggled his moustache. “You really don’t get it. It’s loyalty; not to me, but to the city. They care about their people and all of them did their part to help protect their neighbors when the chips were down. You call them useless, but Lucianna took to the front line with her followers, Merek fought down General Baskerville himself, and Darcie opened her doors to the masses. What did you do? The Diamond District sat back and watched the city burn, making a suspicious amount of money in the process.”

“It’s just business, Mr. Mayor. Do you really think any of them are acting out of love or loyalty? It’s all self-interest in the end. That’s how it is for anyone no matter how much they want to deny it. I’m just the only one who really played it smart. You’re all fooling yourselves if you think you actually care.”

“You can insult me all you want, but I will not abide by you making a mockery of the brave people who gave their all to protect this city.” The mayor straightened himself up and leveled a glare at the showman. “I’ve had enough of you. What makes you think you have any right you call yourself a member of this city let alone inviting yourself into the council!? I’m afraid this conversation is over.” 

Blue light flashed around the mayor’s office and a large hard light train came out of one of the walls to rather aggressively scoop the man up and escort him out of the office. As the flash of brilliance slammed into Mr. R, he watched the streaks disappear he was still standing there. “A hologram,” He observed, “You still don’t have the will to actually speak to me face to face.”

“Well given the currently course of this conversation, I was right to play it safe, wasn’t I? Alright, fine Flavian, I’ll go ahead and give my offer now. I know how much money you all still need to rebuild back to the way you had things before Hades blew half of it up. It’s money I have and it’s money I can give to you. All I want is a seat. Let me into your little club of big shots and you have all the cash you need to rebuild. Sure, you could wait and try to do it the ‘honest’ way but will your neighbors wait for you to be ready again? Now that borders are open you’re pretty flush with foreign interests, aren’t you? Fae, Crepsculum, Kwailai... they’re all larger and more established than this city is by itself. What happens when they want to dig their claws in here? Do you have the resources to keep track of them? I do.”

“Plutus... I want to bring something to your attention. We’re not alone here.” The mayor brings up the conversation and the connection to the council members, their faces showing up on their own monitors and peering into the room. “Well, everyone? What’s your verdict?”

#apricusdays #Mr R #Flavian Lowell #story scene #Verse: Main #Season 2 #Location: Capitol Square

[frog-writes-for-fun]

so its pretty much known that youtooz often steals designs & doesn't credit artists (or so i believe), so can you make ranboo getting another youtooz of his own but he isn't aware that his friend, reader, is the OG designer of it? and like- youtooz did the ol' "steal design" thing since reader uploaded a design of a youtooz as a joke, but then boom, an actual youtooz looks like the exact design you uploaded, but youtooz didn't pay you, credit you, or somesort. and then ranboo found out about it, and then ranboo was like "oh, crap, i'm so sorry" and tries to make it up to them, even though reader reassured him that it was okay and that he didn't know? thanks.

they them pls, gn reader

Hello anon! Thanks for the request, I enjoyed writing it!

Ahh… Capitalism

cc!Ranboo x gn!Reader (platonic)

Summary: Y/n, an artist on Twitter, creates a fake merch design. Soon after, one of their friends announces that they are releasing a suspiciously similar piece of merchandise.

Warnings: Capitalism? There’s not really any warnings for this one.

Note: Stealing art is not cool guys! Share and reblog art and fics, don’t repost or steal them!

You had recently reached a follower goal on Twitter. As a thank you, you set up a poll for your next art piece so your audience could vote.

The project was going to be a fake figurine design, but you wanted your followers to pick who it would be for. The options were a few of your friends’ canon characters, and Ranboo won the poll in a landslide.

You ended up quite happy with the final result of your design, and posted it. Before you closed the bird app, the likes started rolling in. You hadn’t tagged Ranboo in the art, assuming he’d see it anyway since you followed each other.

A few days later, you were watching one of your friend’s streams. He was chatting with Tubbo and the viewers while drawing the lore of the Dream SMP and you were only half-listening as you worked on a commission piece.

Something caught your ear and you focused on the stream in time to catch it. Apparently your friend was partnering with YouTooz to release a new figurine.

“‘Can we see it yet?’ Well, chat, they haven’t printed any that I can show you yet.” Ranboo finished the stick figure of his character in MS Paint.

“You should see the concept art chat! It’s really good.” Tubbo sounded excited as he added his commentary.

“I think YouTooz is releasing the art on Twitter tomorrow.” Ranboo switched to a blank canvas. “I could give chat a bit of a spoiler…” He trailed off, seemingly thinking about the pros and cons of showing off the merch.

An image appeared on his canvas, a silhouette of what must be the figure. You looked at it briefly before turning back to your work in progress.

You didn’t plan to linger on the image long, but something stood out to you. It was almost like you’d seen it before, but you couldn’t quite place it. You tried to put it out of your mind, but it kept coming back.

The next day, the full design was posted on Twitter and you immediately realized why it seemed so familiar. That was 100% your art. The artists’ mark you had put in the corner of the canvas had been covered up with the company logo.

Several of your followers had already commented under the post, tagging you and asking YouTooz for artist recognition at the least.

You took a moment to sort through your notifications, trying to figure out what to do about this, when a private message came from Ranboo.

“Hey, y/n, I see you’re being tagged in a lot of comments about the YouTooz. I’m hoping you can straighten this out. Is that your art?”

You quickly replied, saying that it was and attaching the original file with the artist's signature intact.

His response was vaguely panicked, something along the lines of “oh shoot I’m so sorry I can get it taken down if you want or at least get them to pay you or something”

You reassured him: “Hey, you’re fine. You didn’t steal the art, that was the company. Ahh… the joys of capitalism”

As it turns out, he hadn’t seen the art before YouTooz showed it to him as a piece of concept art, since it had gotten lost in his Twitter timeline.

Ranboo was absolutely willing to negotiate with YouTooz to get you proper credit and pay for the work, or even cancel production if you didn’t want your art to be used for that purpose.

He both explained on stream and on Twitter that you were the one responsible for the amazing art that had gotten stolen, and encouraged people to check out your other art.

Ranboo (@ranboosaysstuff)

Hey everyone! This amazing piece of art that was recently used to promote my YouTooz was actually made by my good friend @y/ndraws! Go check them out and give them all the love!

The shoutout definitely gained you a few thousand more followers, so at least something good came of this mess.

#frog's fics #frog writes #ranboo x reader #ranboo x y/n #ranboo x p!reader #cc!ranboo x reader #dsmp x reader #dsmp x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #reader insert #gender neutral reader #request

[sergiovinazzi]

Stolen - Lando Norris x Reader (Chapter Two)

2.9k words, rated E for everyone :)

Lando’s voice, amplified by the TV speakers, echoes around the humming Red Bull garage. “I’m fine but I’ve been better. I can say that I’m not in perfect condition, I’m not gonna lie. Some work to do mentally of course. I talk about that a lot, and mental health and mental strength is very important. I’ve not been sleeping that great and so on… not ideal and I’m feeling a bit sore, but I’m not the guy in the worst position after Wembley. I’ll work on it, I’ll make sure I’m in the best shape possible, and I feel like I can still go out and focus on what I need to do, and that’s the main thing.”

Your mind races as you listen to the boy plastered across the many screens revisit his experience at Wembley. He sounds awful; something about his cadence making it even more obvious that he is really, truly shaken up. The wavering pitch, awkward pausing, fumbling for words; everything about the way he presents himself is serving as a brutal reminder that being physically unscathed is no indicator that harm was not dealt. Even as the interview moves past the topic of last week’s Euro Final, you notice the shift in demeanor and your heart aches. You worry that bringing the watch to him is a bad idea, that it could prompt unbidden memories and disquieting feelings. You understand how big of an event Silverstone is from your dad’s tangents alone, especially for an English team with an English driver, so you reevaluate whether your decision to come was selfish, one made solely to alleviate your own sentiments of guilt rather than to verily right your believed wrongdoings.

On the journey to Silverstone, your dad had made multiple attempts at lessening your stress, even opting for variations of the if he steps out of line I will put him right back in his place father speech. Unfortunately fruitless, your father’s attempts mean you remain just as anxious as when you had first discovered that you managed to obtain a stolen wristwatch.

You’re not sure whether it’s the crisp morning air or your nerves that sends chills across your flesh, but your attempt to ground yourself subtly doesn’t go unnoticed by your dad as he passes you in the garage.

“Time is ticking,” he informs you, a smirk playing on his lips. “No pun intended.”

You roll your eyes in an attempt to downplay your apprehension, but your voice gives away any and all signs of the false confidence you hope to portray. “Can you do it for me?” you plead.

“I can’t just stroll on over to the McLaren garage without an invitation or proper reason, especially not a couple hours before free practice starts. It doesn’t look good.”

“It’s not like me walking in there instead would look any better,” you retort, gesturing to the Red Bull logo plastered across the chest of your black polo. “Your branding isn’t what I would call subtle.”

“Look, the McLaren team are a good sort. They’ll help you out if you just explain the issue and show them the watch. I’m sure Lando will understand too, he seems like a pretty nice bloke,” your dad reassures you.

Sighing, your eyes meet the floor, fingers intertwined with each other as you fidget incessantly. Before you can speak up in further defiance, however, an additional set of footsteps grow nearer and you freeze at the voice which speaks up.

“Christian, how much longer until our media slot?”

You lose your breath momentarily, locking your gaze onto your shoes as you wait for the person to pass by.

“About five minutes, Max,” your dad replies. “We were just about to head over.”

When you hear the footsteps grow fainter, you risk looking up, thankfully being met with only the observance of your father. You don’t even realize that you’ve tensed your body until your dad points it out.

“Relax,” he says. “He’s not going to say anything here, especially not on a race weekend.”

Nodding, you feel your shoulders ease up but you remain quiet.

“Anyways, like I said, our media briefing and interviews start soon and we’re after McLaren this weekend so they should already be back in their garage,” he says, realizing that you still appear troubled by the task ahead of you. “I promise you, everything will be fine. Just go over there and I’ll meet you back here when we’re done. The quicker you head over, the quicker you’re done with it and we can all move on." With that, your dad walks away and you reluctantly leave the Red Bull garage, adjusting your shirt as you straighten up.

You take a brief glance at your phone, turning it off after you try one last time to keep the picture of the boy imprinted in your mind. Eyes darting rapidly, you attempt to scan the paddock for anyone looking remotely like him while you make your way towards the bright orange and blue indicators of the McLaren garage.

The frequency of orange-clad individuals grows the further you stray from the safety of Red Bull’s garage, and you feel your heartbeat begin to increase. Worried that someone would stop you before you could approach the one person you had traveled all the way to Silverstone for in the first place, you quicken your pace.

You’re mere meters away when you spot him. Pushing past a few people while trying to keep your eyes trained on him, you watch as he turns around to talk briefly with the woman next to him.

Huffing, you muster up the little confidence you have and tap him on the shoulder.

His confusion is evident and the blonde woman next to him does not look pleased to have been interrupted. The silence is palpable as they stare at you, expecting an explanation for the abrupt ending of their conversation.

“Hi,” is all you can deliver. You’re at a loss for words while the woman next to him seems to lose what little patience she has with you. Everything you had rehearsed beforehand, gone. Your mind is foggy and your mouth feels dry as you try to compose yourself. “Um, can I talk to you for a second? It won’t be long, I promise.” Your voice breaks at the end and you wish you had never agreed to get on that stupid red-eye to Silverstone in the first place.

Lando offers a look of sympathy and then turns to the woman next to him. “Charlotte, could you just give us a second?”

Pursing her lips and turning on her heel, the woman walks away, heading towards the mouth of the McLaren garage. She’s far enough away that you’re out of earshot, but close enough that you feel her gaze linger as Lando turns back to face you.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he tells you with a smile. “We can take a picture if you want or I can sign some stuff for you.”

“What? No.” You shake your head, mentally slapping your palm against your forehead and forcing yourself to get a grip. Idiot. “Fuck, sorry, that sounded so rude! It’s just-” you rush to explain.

“Oh no, it’s okay!” he stammers. “I should’ve guessed from the Red Bull shirt anway.”

You both share an awkward laugh before you compose yourself and reach a shaky hand into your bag.

“This is going to sound so weird, but I was online shopping for a new watch the other day because I lost mine, and I’m pretty sure I bought the one that was stolen from you. I didn’t know anything about it, I swear. I just...well, here,” you say, offering the watch and its temporary box to Lando.

He looks at you, taking the box only to go wide-eyed at the contents inside.

“I have all the information that I was able to get, but the ad was taken off of eBay and I really wanted to do the right thing and give it back to you. Please don’t be mad.”

“What the hell?!” he exclaims, earning a few looks from people passing by and catching Charlotte’s attention once more. “Sorry, sorry. How did you get this?”

Amused, you laugh quietly while he studies the watch intently. “That was my dad’s reaction too. Basically there was a listing for it on eBay and it was sort of an impulse buy,” you explain. “I didn’t see the news coverage of what happened until afterwards and I felt awful. I’m really sorry you had to go through that, I genuinely had no idea.”

Shrugging, he plays it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.” It’s hard to miss his sudden change in attitude from the interview you watched moments ago and you can’t help but wonder whether he has your or the watch’s presence to thank.

There is a brief moment of silence between you both before he continues. “How much did you pay for it?”

“It was so cheap, honestly,” you say. “Nothing compared to the original price, I’m sure.”

Charlotte, alerted by Lando’s attention-grabbing reaction to being reunited by his watch, returns to where the two of you are standing. “Oh wow, did you find a replacement watch for him?” she asks you, clearly impressed by the apparent likeness.

“No, Charlotte”, he corrects her. “It’s my one. Look.” He hands the watch to his PR manager, who receives it so gently you think she’s afraid it might shatter in her hands. Flipping the watch between her fingers, she studies the small engraving on the underside of the face.

“Oh my god,” she whispers.

Lando nods. “It’s the exact date it was given to me, there’s no way anyone else could know that and make a copy of it.”

You feel the need to justify yourself to her. “It was listed online and I bought it before I knew anything about the situation. I didn’t even really know who Lando was until I saw what happened on the news, I swear.” You anticipate her anger or disapproval, preparing yourself to withstand the lecture you’re about to receive and mentally promising that, as soon as it’s over, you can run back to your dad and tell him you just want to go home.

But it doesn’t come.

“I can’t believe it!” she exclaims. “We all thought we’d never see it again and you found it on accident.” The smile she gives you sets your mind at ease. “Technically, this is a police matter now, so I’ll have to hand it over to the right people, but this helps us tremendously. Did you get any information about the seller?”

You explain the situation to her, about how the listing was taken offline but you have a printout of the messages and address the seller gave you, which you hand her from your bag. She lets you know that someone may get in touch soon to ask questions but not to worry, that it’s only a formality. Eventually, she asks if you’d like to watch free practice from a spot in the mobile hospitality unit, but you politely decline, explaining that you needed to get back to your dad in the Red Bull garage instead.

Charlotte smiles fondly at Lando and presses the brim of his cap down over his eyes. “Come on, you, we have to go and get ready now anyway.”

He takes off his hat, cheeks flushing as he makes an effort to quickly brush the curls lining his forehead, placing it back on and dismissing Charlotte with a wave of his hand. “Okay, just give me a minute.”

Once the two of you are alone, he pulls out his phone. “Do you have Venmo? I’ll pay you back, it’s not fair that you had to waste your money.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.”

Lando seems unconvinced. “It’s really not a problem.”

“Seriously, it’s all good.”

“Well,” he continues awkwardly. “I have to go, but are you here for the whole weekend or...?”

You shake your head. “Just today. I’m not into Formula 1, I find it a little bit boring.”

“Seriously?! The fastest cars in the world and you’re calling it boring? Why even come to something like Silverstone if it’s so boring?” he feigns offense, doing air quotes as he imitates your apparent disdain for the sport.

Laughing quietly, you shrug. “I have family at Red Bull, so it was basically just luck and convenience that you were in the U.K. this weekend,” you clarify. “I don’t really understand Formula 1, that’s all.”

“Fair enough, it’s not for everyone I suppose,” Lando replies. “So who in your family works at Red–” The end of his question is drowned out by the sound of his name called by an evidently disgruntled, impatient engineer.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, I’ve really gotta go, but, um,” he exhales with a nervous laugh. “I still feel like I need to repay you in some way. Do you want to go get a drink after the race on Sunday? I’m busy for the next few days but Sunday night I’ll be free. Only if you want to, of course, I don’t want to, like, pressure you or anything.”

You laugh, appreciative that the nervousness was shared. “That– Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll give you my number.”

He types your details into his phone before apologizing once more, thanking you again, and rushing off into the garage.

——

On Sunday, you let your dad believe he’s the one who convinced you to stay for the entire race weekend, but it’s the promise of Lando’s company later that night and the endearing text messages on your phone that prompts the desire to see this weekend through. You had spent the previous nights on your phone, going through driver and team Instagram accounts, as well as the F1 website, to get an idea of what to expect. Typically, it would pain you to look through motorsport news pages, especially with so many of the reports centering around Max and his vie for the championship as of late, but you manage.

You notice almost immediately while settling into your spot at the back of the garage that the energy does not match your own. You are enthusiastic and eager, while the rest of the team is stressed and rushes around you. Presumably, it’s because race day impacts their livelihoods and paycheks whereas it only dictates your family’s dinner topics, but, nevertheless, your excitement refuses to simmer.

Unfortunately, if it was weird for you to be seen at the McLaren garage before the first free practice, it would be infinitely more suspicious for you to be lingering around on race day, so you were not able to catch Lando at all since your initial meeting on Friday. However, you made sure to message him good luck beforehand, to which he thanked you and expressed excitement for your upcoming night.

“If you need anything, just ask. I’ll be on the pitwall,” your dad says, snapping you out of your whirring mind. He notices your obscure behavior, quick to comment on it. “Is it weird? Being here after so long?”

You nod, shrugging. “Unusual, for sure. So much has changed since the last time I came and watched, but I’m excited, though.”

“Well, it’s always good to have you here.”

Reciprocating your dad’s grin, you silently send him on his way. He exits quickly and leaves you to your own devices. Though, your own devices look to consist of impatiently waiting for the race to start and scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Ironically, your boredom with pre-race antics appears to create quite the dichotomy against the chaos exuding from the garage you find yourself encompassed in.

Regardless, your attention is regained when frequent cuts are made to the drivers in their cars, and you recognise that the race will be starting soon. You are temporarily startled when the cars begin moving without hearing an official announcement, but quickly realisee that it is merely a formation lap and no one else around you seems to be paying all too much mind to it.

When the cars return to their positions on the grid, you watch eagerly as the lights flash and the announcers begin yelling. You keep your eyes trained on the orange car towards the front of the grid, watching Lando so intently that you almost miss what happens to the cars in front of him.

Your eyes go wide as you watch the events unfold: the Red Bull car out front collides with what you identify as a Mercedes, spinning and slamming into the barrier. Gasps chorus across the garage as the screens replay slowed clips of the crash as an announcement states that the safety car has been deployed. They replay it from every conceivable angle, your astonishment at the severity is present upon your first viewing, but it’s only after the sixth clip that it clicks in your head that the person in the car is Max.

“For the second time this season, Hamilton and Verstappen clash and tangle on the opening lap, but, this time, it is ending in dramatic consequences for the championship leader.”

If you had perceived the pre-race behavior in the garage as chaotic, this was a whole new level of absurdity.

People rush around you while orders are shouted and frustrations are verbalised.

Your dad is angry.

The last time you recall him behaving like this was when your younger sister had broken the wine glasses he had bought for your mother on their honeymoon. You, however, ignore his yelling and remain encapsulated by the TV, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the events unfolding finally, finally register in your brain.

Car number 33 is in the wall and out of the race, and your ex-boyfriend is inside, silent and unmoving.

____________

tag list @lovebynorth @its-astrotea-love

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 blurb #f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 writing #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #f1 one shot #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 blurb #formula 1 writing #formula 1 smut #formula 1 fluff #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris blurb #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris writing #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen smut

[sexysilverstrider]

Burning Ambition (Teppeilumi)

  Everything was dark.

  Stench of spit and blood filled the room. His vision was terrible blur, he could only make out faded images of the ceiling above. A gulp was attempted. A painful cringe was obtained. Breathing grew harsher, weaker. Heartbeat became slower, quieter.

  How amusing.

  As one lone figure lay breathless on the cot, a sudden smoke of black and deep red loomed next to him.

  Huh, was all the smoke hummed. Two slits formed on the entity, colours a demonic crimson. It witnessed the pitiful being. The other patients around it were fighting for their lives as well, completely unaware of the existence that had solidified next to the aging soldier.

  It had no mouth, yet a smile formed inside the flickering smoke.

  The poor soldier was on his last seconds. Once he drew out his fifth breath, all that would be left was a disgusting corpse.

  One breath.

  You are nothing but a pitiful mortal… A silent echo whirred into the soldier’s ears. The shadow hovered closer, looking down at the dying man.

  Two breaths.

  You lack motivation. The two slits widened, crazed as it glared at him. You lack perseverance. And for that, you do not deserve my attention. The darker line below the slits shook, cracked to what one could guess was an eerie smile.

  Three breaths.

  However, It’s ‘smile’ widened, you attract the traveler’s interest. The shadow tilted slightly. The man wheezed weakly.

  Four breaths.

  And I—The shadow reached out for his right hand—am interested in the traveler.

  Five—

----------

  This couldn’t be possible.

  “O-Oi!” Paimoun shouted, body floating as fast as it can to catch up. “Wait—Wait up!” she wheezed, one tiny hand reaching for her fast friend. And yet Lumine didn’t hear her. She couldn’t. For her mind was wholly clouded by the shocking news that was brought up by Gorou.

  “Her Excellency saw it with her own eyes and even did a full check-up on him.” Gorou’s words shrilled clear like a siren. “She even used her healing abilities to ensure that…you know…he’s not an undead or possessed.” His statement only made her run faster and faster.

  Minutes felt eternal, and when Lumine finally arrived at the headquarters in Sangonomiya, she wasted no time and slammed the doors open.

  The scene she made caused shock and confusion to both soldiers and locals alike. All eyes were on her, but a pair of dazzling golden starlight were on the man at the far end of the headquarters.

  Him.

  “Teppei!”

  Once his name escaped her lips. Once those warm brown eyes met her own. Lumine could feel her legs give out and her body flashing forward.

  Even with a gift bestowed upon him, never would he have anticipated the traveler’s tackle.

  “Oof!” His body was thrown aback, yet awareness and newfound strength allowed him to stand his ground instead of falling on his butt. Arms spread open. Eyes widened immediately. Legs shaking still from the impact, Teppei quickly tried to straighten his back with someone hugging him for dear life.

  “You’re alive…”

  Her voice was muffled, breathing brushed against the material of his shirt. “I—what?” Bafflement still bursting in his mind, he tilted his head downwards. All he saw was a sight of golden blonde. All he smelled was a scent of warmth and wind.

  “You’re alive!” Without warning, Lumine snapped her head upwards, meeting his shocked gaze. “You’re alive!” Statement now booming with baffled laughter, Lumine once more nuzzled her face into his chest.

  The scent was tickling his nose. Burning red in his cheeks.

  “I uh—” Realization kicked in; they were very, very close. “I-I am!” Words sputtered into a stutter, Teppei gave two thumbs up with arms still spread to the side.

  Laughter bubbled within her chest, tickling his own.

  He prayed that she didn’t hear his manic heartbeat.

  “I’m so glad…”

  The laughter was short-lived, however, as her voice lulled to a whisper. “Traveler?”

  “So…so glad…” Her hug tightened. Voice now broken to a slow, woeful murmur. “I’m glad…” A strain scraped through gritted teeth. Golden eyes were squeezed shut to prevent a fearful sight.

  A short gasp popped her lips to feel his embrace.

  “I’m glad too…” His voice was a gentle whisper, meek and shaky. “Very, very glad…”

  Cheek rested against his chest, Lumine pursed her lips and released a heavy sigh. “Mmm…” His arms felt hesitant around her petite body at first, but fear dissolved into relief once she felt his hug tighten.

  “Aww!”

  Relief, however, exploded into wild embarrassment once they realized they weren’t alone.

  Immediately both broke their hug, faces now flushed red and hearts thumping wildly against their ribcages. A pair of golden and brown targeted towards the two people standing before them. One had his face covered and body shaking in silent amusement. The other had her hands clapped and positioned adorably next to her cheek.

  “I’m so happy to see that smile back on your face, traveler!” Kokomi gleamed, her smile sincere yet laced with a hint of mirth. Gorou still had his face covered, though it seemed that his fit of giggles had ceased—for now.

  Ah, what a fool she made herself to be.

  “W-Well,” Trying her best to dig out of her hole she had made, Lumine straightened her posture and cocked her head upwards. “Why wouldn’t I be? To know that my friend is alive is more than enough to make me—”

  “How dare you left Paimon at the back!”

  “Ack!”

  Alas, before Lumine could save face, she wasn’t able to realize and stop Paimon from crashing into her.

----------

  In all honesty, Teppei still thought that he had died and gone to heaven.

  “It’s…real.” Tap, tap. One finger gently tapped onto the glass of the Vision case. A simmering shape of fire burned brilliantly inside the object. The longer he held it, the more he could feel warmth sipping into his body. One hand holding the Vision, he flipped his other hand left and right.

  There were no wrinkles. No drained colours of deathly blue. The same warmth could be felt into his palm. The same pulse could be felt inside his veins.

  “Still reeling it in?”

  Her voice was a brilliant beacon that lit him up. “Uh—yeah!” The answer stuttered sheepishly, Teppei looked at the traveler. Her smile was ever present. Her eyes gleamed gloriously like stars that he often basked in awe.

  Those stars now shined closely to him.

  “I just…” It’s been an hour since their reunion. After witnessing a scolding from Paimon to Lumine and apologizing endlessly to Lady Kokomi and General Gorou, both he and the traveler decided to rest by the lake near the headquarters. Peace wasn’t an option yet, however, as the tiny, floating being started shooting endless questions that he still found no answers to.

  “You have a Vision now!? You’re a Pyro user?! Holy moly you can control fire! You got blessed by the Gods! How? When? And you look like you’re back to your real age! You’re no longer a withering, dying old man!”

  It was truthfully amazing how Lumine handled Paimon on a daily basis.

  After trying his best to give an explanation that might work, Paimon finally reached an understanding and let him breathe.

  That, or she was hungry which made her fly off to the kitchen to recharge herself for more questions later.

  Either way, Teppei was grateful for the silence.

  Now all that’s left were him and the traveler. And while he knew she had just as many questions as her small friend, he was just glad that she allowed him to recollect his thoughts first.

  It had been a good 20 minutes. Reality still hadn’t set in.

  “This is mine…right?” Once again he looked at her, eyes clouded in hope and fear. Will it disappear? Am I actually dreaming or dead and this is just my mind giving me one last mercy? These questions bounced in his mind from the moment he woke up from the agonizing slumber. “It’s—I’m not holding someone’s missing Vision, right…?”

  “Teppei.”

  His body shivered briefly to hear such a gentle tone.

  Pupils dilated to see her hand, small yet callous, cupping his left hand. Quickly he looked at her again, not realizing that he had dropped his gaze back at the Pyro Vision.

  Her smile was radiant as the sun.

  “That is yours.” Reassurance sang melodiously into his ears. Her fingers curled his own, cupping the warm Vision closer. “You have a Vision.” Distance became a mere hindrance to her, so Lumine scooted closer. It was then that she saw his hair, dark as the day she first met him. His cheeks were rosy. His eyes shined brightly. No wrinkles cursed his skin. No fades of pale blue scrapped his face.

  He looked back to how he was before. Better even.

  Giddiness bubbled within her again. Though caution and confusion loomed inside her brain at the possible impossible, Lumine decided to gulp those fears down first and rejoiced at his living.

  Living. Alive.

  “You’ve received favours from the Gods.”

  It took a while for Teppei to get used to his new powers.

  While those words stung her tongue, clawed through her throat, what matters to her right now was that he was alive.

----------

  One couldn’t hone it so magnificently in a span of a day after receiving a Vision. Though Lumine wouldn’t know; she technically never gotten one.

  But as a month rolled by, and after rejoicing with his friends and teammates, Teppei easily bounced back as Captain of Herring I. Excitement fuelled his veins once he finally got the chance to wear his new uniform. A small logo in shape of a herring was stitched at the back, bare and open so proudly for everyone to see. His teammates now somewhat revered him as a miracle who came back from the jaws of death. And while a part of him felt bashful and slightly proud of the statement, Teppei knew he couldn’t gloat—at least, not too much.

  This was a gift by the Gods, after all. He was grateful. Truly. Whether or not the Vision he received granted him what was once stolen by the Delusion, Teppei knew this was something that shouldn’t be taken so lightly. Or rudely.

  A few more weeks flew by, and as a Vision bearer, he was now given a special task to train and hone his powers. And while that didn’t seem like a problem—in fact, Teppei was more than excited to train with General Gorou and Kazuha—he did feel the nerves kicking in when Lumine volunteered to join in the practice as well.

  “Alright!” Her right hand reached forward; immediately, her sword appeared seemingly out of nothing. “Show me what you got, partner!”

  Ba-dump!

  He really needed to have a talk with his heart later about the traveler calling him that.

  “Right!” Enthusiasm and anxiety spiralled together, Teppei hovered hands close to each other. Slowly, he tried to manifest the weapon into his hands. Apparently, according to General Gorou, Vision bearers were able to dissolve their weapons with their powers, enabling an easy access to it especially when they’re in a pinch. When Teppei heard of this fun fact, he was over the moon; what a very coincidentally accessible way!

  However, it was easier said than done.

  It took many, many, many tries. And finally, after a…few failed attempts, he was able to conjure up his lance.

  It took a few seconds—better than a few minutes, Teppei figured—the weapon finally materialized in his hands. “Got it!” Like a puppy, he beamed. Flickers of flame swerved around the lane, yet Teppei felt no pain.

  If anything, he felt elated.

  Never one to give up or step down, he concentrated again. This time, patience and practice showed its results as ribbons of fire wrapped around the lance. They decorated every so prettily, tickling his arm. Careful as to not position his lance near anyone besides his opponent, he posed a battle stance.

  “Ready when you are—” Brown eyes stared at her. His battle posture ready. His heartbeat sang madly. “—partner!”

----------

  Sometimes, he needed to remind himself that his own flames couldn’t technically hurt him.

  It was amazing. Jaw-dropping. Stunning even that he could stare at it for days. The tiny flicker of flames danced on his palms, hypnotizing him with such a sight. He curled one finger. Then another and another. His fingers went thru the fire. It gave such a tickling warmth, soothing both his palms and heart.

  “Heh…” A quiet chuckle peeped through smiling lips. Sitting alone by the lake, he slowly curled his fists, extinguishing the flames within. It tickled, he thought. Once again, he opened his hands, revealing clear skin that bore flesh, not bones.

  His heartbeat raced. Excitement. Fear. All whirled in his mind. Silently, he took a deep breath, then exhaled carefully as if relishing on each breath that coursed through his throat.

  He was alive. Living.

  Everything could change in a blink.

  Bringing that reminder close to his heart, Teppei nodded once. A new resolution formed firm. Stronger. Clearer. If this truly was a gift by the Gods. If this was truly a test he needed to fulfil and succeed, then he must carry on.

  Yes. One fist raised in the air. A smile curled confidently under the shine of the moonlight. I can do this!

  As one man basked on his goal, one woman stood from afar, hiding behind a tree and gazing at him with eyes a woeful glow and lips a tight purse.

  “Gift by the Gods.”

  The words sent a shiver down her spine. Burned fire in her chest.

  Gratitude burst brightly every time she saw him. But Lumine knew: not everything came without a price.

  The Archons she had met so far were nice, welcoming—although Ei had a rough start when they first met, both were slowly moving forward together to fix the future. But that was the thing that concerned Lumine the most.

  Not everyone would be sensible and sweet like Venti and Zhongli. And even with them, after having met Dainsleif and the unfortunate reunion with her dear brother, Lumine had to keep her guard up.

  He looked so happy. So alive.

  Ba-dump…

  One hand placed where her heart ached.

----------

  Some Vision bearers honed their powers until they were able to conjure up new skills. Some were able to form powerful shields. Some were able to heal and cure. Some even had the power to freeze even the mightiest of hilichurl chieftains.

  In Teppei’s case, he would soon find out that skills were sometimes found or created when one was put in a desperate situation.

  “Watch out!”

  All happened too fast. The moment he saw a samurai plunging his way towards her, Teppei could feel the wind and rain against his face. He saw Lumine turning around to face the enemy. He saw Lumine swinging her sword in hopes that it slices the samurai before his own could slice her.

  While he was not as fast as the traveler, he was quick enough to reach out for her.

  Quickly he tugged her left arm. Taken aback by the sudden force, Lumine felt her body being pulled backwards. Everything happened in mere blinks. Panic sinking in, Teppei stomped one foot forward—

  FWOOM!

  CLANG! CRASH!!

  A burst of fire shaped around them. The ringing clash of steel against solid fire reverberated amidst the heavy rain.

  The impact clearly took the samurai by surprise. The newly-formed shield ironically took Teppei’s and Lumine;s breaths away.

  Golden met brown. Stupor froze their body still. The shield was still active, still enveloped around them like a dome of flames. Lumine gawked at the tall captain, awe and bewilderment being her method of communication. It seemed Teppei understood her language, for both now shared their speechless conversation under the brilliant dome.

  “Um…” he gulped. “You alright?”

  She blinked once. Twice. “Yeah!” Laughter burst out amidst the stupor. “I’m fine!” One to easily register reality quickly around her, Lumine readied her battle stance again. The shield around them burned brighter. As eyes inspected the area around her, she realized that the same samurai that attacked just now started to stagger and stumble. His sword sheathed into the ground. Though donned in a helmet, Lumine could see him crouch slightly as if he was trying to catch his breath.

  He didn’t get hit by anything else after that. And the impact wasn’t as severe. If Lumine remembered correctly, the samurai only crashed against Teppei’s shield—

  Another realization jolted in. And her guess was swiftly proven correct as she felt an aura of strength pumping into her veins.

  It would seem Teppei would be excited to learn his newfound ability.

  For now, as both captains locked eyes and nodded, Lumine decided to break the great news later after they finished this battle.

----------

  Sangonomiya was truly a breath-taking place.

  Giant shells that stood proudly in the center of the land. Waterfalls that shined and gleamed every time it hit the surface. Even the lake was a like a beautiful mirror, revealing clear images of those who look upon it.

  However, as beautiful as the place was, it did have one flaw when it came to nightly weather.

  Maybe Ei was feeling at peace after their little tour, which would explain the soothing wind that blew past her. And while Lumine was happy to know that that might be case, unfortunately, her body would say otherwise.

  “Hey there, traveler!”

  Her head turned at the voice. Golden eyes caught the sight of the lone soldier who kept dancing in her mind lately. “Hi,” was her reply, short and sweet, yet enough to ring a bell of joy at his presence.

  Her bliss was a reflection to his.

  “May I join in?” His directed his hand at the empty spot next to her. A giggle was heard. A shaken head was seen. Smile curling swirls at the corners, Teppei took a seat on the bench. “Where’s your flying friend?”

  “Sleeping.” Another short reply, but not curt. Her head turned to one of the tents in the camp. “She had a big dinner so decided to call it a night.”

  “I see.” Brown eyes glanced at the tent, then back at her. “Why are you still up, though?” Curiosity led him to the question, but he didn’t realize how rude he might have sounded before he could stop himself. Teppei then flustered to see her eyes widen, probably offended, probably hurt that he thought she was some sort of child.

  “W-Wait, no I mean—” Both hands raised and waved. “I was just curious since we kinda had a long day and—”

  Laughter ceased him from making a further fool of himself.

  “It’s okay, Teppei.” One hand that stayed near her mouth slowly lowered down to her lap. “I understand. I just don’t feel sleepy yet.” The smile on her face grew genuine. It always seemed to be whenever he was around. “I just want to enjoy the night a little longer. I have a lot of energy compared to Paimon, anyways.”

  The joke got through him. A laughter was given as a response.

  “If she heard you, she would be mad.”

  “Which is why I’m saying it to you.”

  How light her chest felt whenever she talked to him.

  The conversation came smoothly. Teppei talked about his daily task as captain. Lumine responded with topics of her commissions and part-time role as captain as well. While the matter with Raiden Shogun had been resolved, there were still some internal conflicts that required attention. Lumine knew it would take some time to figure out a way to get to Sumeru, so she figured she might as well stay in Inazuma for a while. Who knows? Maybe she would find more information about her brother—

  “Achoo!”

  “Traveler?”

  A sneeze broke their conversation and her thoughts. “O-Oh,” she sniffed, “sorry. It just gets a bit cold in Sangonomiya that I kinda forgot to bring a coat.” Hands rubbed her prickling arms. Yet she didn’t feel like getting up. Not now. Lumine enjoyed talking to Teppei. The stress in Inazuma sometimes got to a point where it was unbearable, and the Herring I captain was one of the people who was able to lighten the burden in her chest.

  It seemed Teppei had the same idea about her as well.

  “Oh…” Thoughts whirled in his mind. Suddenly, an idea flickered in seconds. “I can go get a coat for you if you like! Don’t want my partner to be sick now, huh.” He laughed, cheerful and honest. Hands pressed on the bench, he started to get up. “I’ll be right back—”

  “Wait.”

  His body froze at the feel of her hand around his fingers.

  Brown and gold looked at their hands. Brown and gold then looked at each other.

  “Ah!”

  In unison, they gasped. Lumine immediately retracted her hand while Teppei dumbly plopped himself back onto the bench.

  “You don’t have to!” Heat kissed her cheeks as their roles were now reversed. “I’m not that cold. And besides, ever since you started sitting down, it actually feels warmer—”

  Foolish was an act that bounced back between the two.

  Realization kicked in. Fast. It was obvious in the blown pupils of his eyes. It was clear in the beautiful burst of red in her face.

  Sadly, Teppei was quite quick to catch up on things too. “R-Really?”

  Slim fingers curled slowly. Hands were still raised near eye-level. “Well…” Ah fuck it, she thought. “Really.” She figured there was no harm in being honest. Maybe some shame. “Maybe it’s because of your Vision, but you feel a bit…warmer than normal people.” Thankfully, she had seen and faced this sort of phenomenon with Amber and Xiangling. Although she technically had never hugged Diluc, the man did once offer her his jacket. And wearing it felt warm and toasty, so that was good enough research for her.

  His short laughter brought her attention back to him.

  “I do feel warmer than usual ever since I woke up from that long sleep.” A sheepish reply accompanied the growing red in his cheeks. “But I make sure this time that it wasn’t anything dangerous. Her Excellency said that it’s normal for a Pyro user like me to have some extra body heat.” White teeth gleamed beneath the moon’s glow. “You can say that I’m like a walking heater.”

  More laughter joined in, but it was one-sided this time.

  “Then…may I sit closer?”

  The laughter died down immediately, bafflingly.

  He couldn’t believe what she said. She couldn’t believe what she said.

  “If that’s alright with you…?” The question was timid, sheepish, bursting with shame. Lumine was ready to bolt off the bench and excuse herself for the night. Why would she ask him that, she wondered? The man was of pure heart ever since she met him. He was an honest friend, an enthusiastic one at that. Like most of the people she had met, Teppei’s intentions were true and genuine which became the very reason she was getting close to him—

  “I…don’t mind.”

  The wild tornado of feelings in her mind died down once she heard his reply.

  Those golden eyes were no match for the stars above. “Really?”

  Excitement was real in her tone. The sight of pure joy made his heart burst anew. “Really…” He sounded sheepish, bashful, yearning. One breath. Maybe two. Once he reassured himself that he was calm and collected, Teppei scooted closer. “It’s the least I can do for my partner.”

  She always hated how her heart cracked to hear that term.

  Sorrow was short-lived, hidden behind layers and layers of relief that she practiced over the centuries. “Thank you.”

  He always loved how his heart skipped a beat to see her smile.

  Slowly, the distance between then shrunk. Only an inch teased between their pinkie fingers. In seconds, Lumine could feel the warmth—his warmth. It truly felt soothing. Calming. Yet it also gave her a tiny surge of strength that tickled her stomach. She loved it. She adored it.

  She only wished she had more time to cherish it.

  “Thank you, Teppei…” Her voice mellowed. “For showing me around the Resistance. For helping me out in battles.” Silence was his response. A welcome for her to say further. “For pushing me to end this terrible Vision Hunt Decree.”

  His left fingers clenched rigidly next to her.

  “For coming back alive and well…” Her voice started to get slower. “For inspiring me…” Her eyes started to get heavier. “For cheering me up when I feel…down…” Her head bobbed forward. “For…” A yawn broke out, “being there…”

  Body acting out of reflex, Lumine leaned her head against his left arm.

  Her actions stunned him back to reality. As she talked to him—as if she was talking to herself—Teppei felt hypnotized. Brown eyes were fixed on her like trance. Healthy heartbeat skipped at the sound of her melodious voice. It wasn’t until he felt her body so close to him that Teppei almost jumped with face full of red.

  Silence hummed around them.

  The captain looked at her, entranced and bewitched by such a sight. “That’s a lot of thanks, partner…” Voice a shy murmur, he brought his free hand up to his face. A long sigh escaped his lungs. His right hand remained on half of his face as he stared forward.

  His whole body felt as if he was burning.

  Brown eyes glanced at the sleeping traveler next to him.

  But honestly, His left fingers twitched, stretched until his hand held her right hand, it doesn’t feel bad.

  The mad drumming of his heart echoed in his ears. The soothing sound of her voice kissed heat in his cheeks and neck.

  It doesn’t feel bad at all.

  “Sweet dreams, Lumine…” His left hand gently squeezed her right hand. His face slowly leaned closer to her to memorize every detail, to cherish every moment he had with this fated encounter.

  Ah, he thought, smile soft and shaky, I’m in trouble…

END

#Teppei #Lumine #Genshin Impact #Teppeilumi #i call this 4k words of denial #i havent written this much in a while LMAO #what denial can do to a bicc #just coz of an npc.................smh #fafar writes

[iovjun]

You Were Beautiful — Huang Renjun

PAIRING: huang renjun x reader

GENRE: angst, breakup au

WARNINGS: none, other than the fkn heartbreak :(

SYNOPSIS: You were a novel in itself, your pages filled with words upon words of stories and little problems you ran into. Renjun felt thankful to have appeared in a few of those lines, maybe even a whole chapter filled with nothing but him. But books, too, ended eventually.

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

A/N: this one hurt ngl :D TELL ME HOW I DID? DID IT MAKE YOU FEEL? (honorary tag to @yoongistoesuwu who’s always a part of my writing process <3)

The dirt under your nails never felt more uncomfortable. Your little plants stared up at you, their pale green color sickening to look at. Once standing strong and tall, they were now reduced to wilted, feeble, pathetic things. It was a terrible feeling, knowing that you neglected them and they were dying because of you.

You quietly hummed a song as you dusted your hands off and grabbed the small watering can, returning it to it’s temporary spot on the counter. The sun was low in the sky, its golden color washing over the kitchen and your skin. Its beams shone through the wide windows, barely filtered by the thin white curtain.

When you first picked this apartment, the view was one of the many things you loved about it. High above the ground, the city skyline was definitely a sight for sore eyes, especially during these hours when the clouds became an artist’s canvas, a splash of color across the horizon.

As you looked out the window and took a sip of water, the door opened behind you but you didn’t turn. You knew it was just Renjun, and you didn’t have to see him to know that he was probably in that favorite sweater of his, keys dangling from one finger and his phone in his hand.

“Hey,” he said, his voice casual.

“Hey,” you acknowledged, twisting to watch him set his keys down.

“Did you eat already?” He opened the fridge, but you already knew it was empty. He realized that fact, closing it and turning away.

You replied, “No.”

“Oh.”

That was it. He didn’t make eye contact, he didn’t come up to give you a kiss, he didn’t invite you to eat elsewhere. He walked away, probably to go sit on the bed while he scrolls through his phone and you stay in the kitchen, watching the sun bid farewell.

When the light faded completely the kitchen was dark but you didn’t bother turning on the lights. The city outside glowed lively and even in this quiet moment you could still hear the honking cars and bustling streets below, sounds you’ve grown accustomed to since moving to the city. The feeling inside you was one you’ve become all too familiar with, yet when put to words you came up blank.

You were never much of a poet anyway, not like Renjun.

The glass of water in your hands was now empty—this you discovered as you brought it back up to your lips for another sip. Sighing, you put in the sink and looked at the time. It was past ten already, how long had you been standing there? The lights outside had been so mesmerizing, so alive, you could get caught up watching other people live their lives while you forget about yours.

Eventually you slipped into bed, wincing at the stone cold sheets. You knew Renjun’s sleeping body was beside you but you pushed that notion away, closing your eyes and trying to get rid of every thought that kept you up at night. Getting good sleep these days was becoming less and less often, but you weren’t sure why.

Maybe it was the fact that the person on the other side of the bed turned his back to you every night, and you always drifted off knowing you wouldn’t wake up in his arms the next morning. At this point you felt numb, tears wouldn’t even fall from your eyes anymore, you weren’t even sure what you felt could be described as sadness or anger.

The next day you squinted at your plants on the window sill, trying to determine if they looked better or worse. You supposed it was too early to tell, you barely tended to them the evening before.

Staring out the window was starting to be all too common for you and you hated it. You hated seeing the city outside, the sidewalks you used to walk with Renjun and the cafe events you would attend with him. And sometimes there would be a stray cat in an alley that would, by some miracle, let Renjun pet him. He would pull you in, his hand still grasping yours tightly, and jokingly asked if you could take it home, eyes bright like a child in a toy store. You would chuckle, shaking your head at him and reminding him that pets weren’t allowed in your apartment. Of course, he already knew that but it was a running joke between the both of you.

How you hated those big windows.

Hastily turning, you grabbed your jacket and keys before you let your thoughts wander too far. You reached out to the door but it swung open and you came face to face with Renjun who was arriving as scheduled.

He recoiled in shock and coughed awkwardly, letting go of the doorknob and relaxing his arm. “Hey, were you going somewhere?” he asked, looking away from your eyes.

You stepped back to let him in. “Um, not really,” was your answer. “Why?”

“I just—” he began, bringing up his arm to show a paper bag in his hand. “I brought some food. Thought you might be hungry.”

“Oh, okay. Let’s eat then,” you murmured, and with that he walked in, setting down the bag and slipping off his sweater. You caught a whiff of him as he walked by, the scents from outside mixing with his usual aroma. He smelled of spring rain over a jasmine field, it always reminded you of the fresh flowers the waiters at your favorite cafe used to place in each vase.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

The type of silence that had its hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing the life out of you, making you clench your fist with force.

Looking back at this scene, no one would’ve ever guessed that just a couple months ago you were engaged to this man.

The food in front of you was spread out in all its glory, just the sight of it was enough to make your mouth water. Renjun sat across from you, his head lowered as he took in the food. You noticed, looking at the logo on the bag, that it was from an unfamiliar restaurant. Your stomach growled in hunger but you didn’t eat.

You couldn’t eat. It felt strange, like you were dining with a stranger. You were conscious of every second that ticked by, every breath you took, every time Renjun moved the slightest inch. It was just too uncomfortable. Perhaps he felt the same, as he grasped his eating utensil tightly, doing nothing more than stare at the meal.

You held in a disappointed sigh, shifting in your seat awkwardly. Neither of you were big talkers anyway, but this wasn’t the comfortable silence you were accustomed to with Renjun.

“How was work?” you asked in a small voice, straightening your back when he lifted his head to look at you.

“It was fine.”

The reality of the situation was becoming too clear. Rain pattered the windows, you could hear the laugh of a passerby in the hallway, probably coming from a late Saturday party. The white, clean walls of a spacey kitchen never felt so small, so suffocating. You were like a burning match, and Renjun was the oxygen that could either blow you out or feed your flames.

By now he would’ve talked your ear off about the managers at work who seemed too demanding for his taste, or the girls that would constantly hit on him, or he would bring up the small succulent you gifted him a while ago that he took care of every day while working. You wondered about his friends and his coworkers, wondering how they were doing. He never talked about them anymore. He didn’t talk about anything anymore, in fact, not with you.

He couldn’t even look you in the eyes anymore.

You had to leave. You stood, the sound of your chair scraping across the linoleum floor harshly ripping through the thick silence. It was pouring outside but you needed to get away. Renjun didn’t move, he knew you both needed it for now. He let you walk past him, heading out the door with only your keys and phone in hand.

It was eating him inside out. You used to look at him with entire galaxies in your eyes, your smile that lit the world brighter than Renjun had ever seen. It was on rainy nights like this that he would take you out to the park and you would sit on a bench, sharing the same umbrella but getting soaked anyway. You would both chuckle at the people running by, hurrying to get some shelter in the cold rain and he would wrap his arm around you, pulling you in so close. The pleasant feeling in your chest was warmer than any jacket you’ve ever worn.

The stars would fall mercy at your feet, for you shined brighter than any of them. Renjun could spend hours painting you, just you. The dainty way your hand held his, the lips that whispered sleepy “l love you’s” every morning, your luscious hair that would tickle him from time to time. And when you laughed, Renjun loved you even more then. Even if it was a quiet, content laugh, or a loud chortle that left you breathless, he could never get enough of it.

It was so cliché but Renjun used to love you like that.

The following day was equally as bleak as the one before.

You stood by the window once again, watching the raindrops race to the bottom of the glass, remembering the times you did that as a child, betting with yourself to see which one made it down first.

This time the sun was nowhere to be seen, obscured by the heavy gray clouds that cried tears. Fog covered the buildings outside like a morbid blanket, and you could feel the chilly air seeping in through the glass when you placed your fingertips on it.

Today was your anniversary with Renjun, and you could only hope that something good came out of the dinner you prepared.

You took your time waiting in the kitchen, watering your flora who were also looking a bit brighter even without the sun. Smiling as you looked down at them, thinking about how they were something to look forward to in your black and white world.

Glancing at the time, you noticed it was getting a bit late, but that was a lie. You were getting ahead of yourself. Renjun was usually on time, arriving around 7:30 pm, and it was barely 7:50. You hoped he didn’t forget what day it was because it would make things even more awkward.

Just as you were placing the last plate on the table, the door opened and Renjun entered, his trademark sweater on and keys in hand. At least that was one thing about him that never changed.

He saw what you had prepared and, for the first time in a while, you saw a small smile on his face. Before you could greet him, he held out his hand, a little flower peeking out from his grasp.

“Happy anniversary,” he said softly.

Your heart sank. It was a single jasmine blossom, a flower that used to be your favorite.

Used to be.

You wouldn’t put it against Renjun for not knowing how much you despised that flower now, hating the sickly sweet smell that drove your anxiety up the wall.

Renjun smelled of spring rain over a jasmine field.

Nonetheless, you plucked the flower from his hand and inhaled its scent, ignoring the way it made your stomach churn as you gently smiled at him. “Happy anniversary,” you repeated, struggling to keep your smile bright. “I made dinner.”

Once the both of you sat down, you tapped your fingers on the table, contemplating if you should fight the silence or let it win again today. Renjun seemed to be deep in thought as well, his hands folded on his lap and his brows furrowed in that way they do when he’s focused on something. His eyes were fixated on your restless hand, and you couldn’t help but assume he was staring at the empty spot where your ring used to be. You clenched your fist and retracted it, mirroring his pose with your hands in your lap. Renjun shook out of his daze and pursed his lips, stabbing at the food on his plate.

“Why are we even doing this?” you spoke, your voice a bit wobbly.

Renjun didn’t even have to ask to know what you were talking about, yet he still felt his heart squeeze at your question. “I don’t know.”

“We’re basically roommates, Renjun. We’re two people that live in the same house but never interact. Why do we keep doing this?” The volume of your voice escalated desperately, and you searched him for an answer but he didn’t look up.

“I don’t know!” he blurted out forcefully.

You pushed your plate away, your appetite suddenly gone. “I don’t think we can make this work anymore.” He stayed silent while you continued. “I’m miserable—we both are.”

The truth was Renjun was afraid of letting you go. He was afraid of coming home to an empty house, of sleeping in an empty bed, of having no one to console him when he was upset. You and him used to live in harmony at some point, a routine where you would understand each other and work together. He’d grown so used to you, the idea of you, that he felt sick thinking of a life without you.

He was afraid of being alone.

Outside the rain came down in waves. It pounded on the window, asking for attention while you waited for Renjun to say something.

He didn’t.

Instead, the sky roared with thunder and a faroff bolt of lightning struck the ground, lighting up the world momentarily. The lightbulb above you flickered once then gave out, as did the rest of the light sources throughout the kitchen. The refrigerator stopped humming, the AC stopped clicking, and the numbers on the microwave faded away, leaving you to stare at your ex-fiancé in the dark.

Renjun couldn’t stand the way you looked at him anymore. Though some of the light in your eyes had faded, they were still filled with hope and trust. At the end of the day you continued to wait for him with open arms. He felt undeserving of your love.

You left the table first, the food laying untouched while Renjun let you walk away again. If he had anything to say in that moment, it stayed painfully lodged in his throat, his own pride choking him up.

A couple months ago, your first fights were terrible. You both raised your voices, ignored each other, even refused to sleep in the same bed (Renjun would stay with a friend when it got bad). He never liked thinking about those times, regretting each and every word he ever directed at you and hating the pain in your expression after. He especially disliked recalling the tears in your eyes when you slid the diamond ring off your finger and placed it in his palm.

After silently clearing the table and checking the breakers, Renjun found his way to the bedroom in the dark, seeing your curled up form under the covers. He didn’t acknowledge you as he slid in next to you, turning his back like always and pulling the covers up to his chin, careful not to pull your side too much.

He closed his eyes but did not sleep, his thoughts running too rampant to let him. Even if he did sleep, he dreamt only of you. Of when you first met, of your first date, of the day he got on one knee and asked for your hand. He could never forget the happiness in your voice, the jubilant smile you wore beautifully.

“Renjun,” he heard you whisper into the inky bedroom, the sound just loud enough for him to hear. “I’m cold.”

It was anything but cold under the blankets, but Renjun did feel chilled, hollow. Like he was disconnected from his body somehow. “I know,” he replied quietly. “Me too.”

You didn’t respond but he turned, cautiously putting his arm around you and you let him, tears springing to your eyes. It had been a while since you laid in this position with him, you nestled in his chest while he buried his nose in your neck or hair and he was so close you could feel each breath he took. It felt strange yet familiar, like that sense of déjà vu you get when it feels like you already went through something. But maybe your brain conjured up this bittersweet dream, maybe this reality was just in your head.

Maybe Renjun would still love you when you woke up.

“Your flowers are dead.”

Renjun stood by the window, a dry, wilted leaf resting on his finger. He studied it for a moment, and then let it go. It crumbled to pieces.

“I don’t care about them anymore,” you voiced. “It took me too much effort to keep them alive.”

He nodded in understanding, though he knew those plants meant a lot to you. Sometimes on days when you were tired, he’d remind you to water them or even do it himself. Not once had your flowers ever looked the way they did now—dull, withered, dead.

A long, painful beat of silence passed. Renjun gazed out the window, taking in the familiar sun that hasn’t shown itself in days. The heavy clouds had finally lifted that day, revealing a fading orange and red sky. You watched him from the counter, the way the golden light bounced off his skin, creating a heavenly, ethereal glow. The silver bracelet he wore on his wrist reflected the beams, projecting them onto the ceiling above.

You looked down, away from the man who you promised your life to once upon a time. A million thoughts raced through your head, too cryptic to comprehend. All you knew was that whatever you and Renjun had hurt too much to keep going. Clenching your fist, you braced yourself for your next words.

“Let’s end this Renjun.”

For once, he turned to look at you, his eyes dry of tears but filled with pain. Every fiber of his being screamed for you, to be happy in your arms again, to hear the words ‘my love’ fall from your lips one more time. He bit his lip and pushed down those longing thoughts, the ones that were on his mind far too much these days.

He made the hardest decision of his life—he chose to let go of you. On that day, that minute, that split second, he looked into your eyes and knew it was the end of a love story.

Renjun knew he loved you, but he fell out of love with you a long time ago.

You were once his morning and night sky, his sunflower fields, his walk in the clouds. Whoever the creator was smiled upon you, blessing you with a kind of spirit that brought peace and adventure at the same time. Being with you felt like an impulsive car ride along the coastline, the wind blowing your hair wildly, screaming and throwing your arms up as if it was a rollercoaster ride. Or like a lazy afternoon, sleeping the whole day while the sun made its path across the sky, only being woken up by kisses and giggles and legs tangled in the bedsheets.

Beyond your monotonous life were other people also moving on. Friends came and went, that random stranger you saw on the street you would probably never see again, enjoying an unfamiliar song in a cafe that would slip your mind as soon as you left. People lived, people died, but the world kept revolving, never stopping, never giving anyone a break.

That was the beauty of it.

Renjun didn’t feel angry or sad or even bitter. He was thankful. He was thankful for the countless moments spent with you, for all the laughs and tears you shared, for the quiet and loud moments, for the breath of air you were to him. You were a novel in itself, your pages filled with words upon words of stories and little problems you ran into. Renjun felt thankful to have appeared in a few of those lines, maybe even a whole chapter filled with nothing but him.

But books, too, ended eventually.

The last blow to his heart was when he looked back, seeing you standing in the doorway with a wounded expression. The windows behind you were as translucent as ever, pouring light over your perfect form. Your hair flared brightly from the orange backlight and you leaned on the frame, one second away from screaming at him to come back.

He considered returning, mumbling an ‘I’m sorry, I love you,’ but that would only delay the inevitable, not stop it. At the end of the day, it was still over. But it was okay, because looking back now at all the love you used to share, he realized it was beautiful.

You were beautiful.

#feedback would be much appreciated <3 #neowritingsnet #cznnet #kdiner #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #wayv #huang renjun #renjun fluff #renjun angst #renjun au #renjun scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #nct scenarios #nct au #kpop #mark lee #lee haechan #lee jeno #na jaemin #zhong chenle #park jisung #nct dream x reader #huang renjun x reader #nct dream angst #nct 127 angst #wayv angst #renjun imagines

[cotccotc]

genre/s: felix x barista!reader (gender neutral), fluff, angst, coworkers to lovers au, bakery / barista au (feat. baker / bff!minho, (strict) manager!chan, barista!jeongin, and baker!seungmin)

wc: 6.9k 😎

warnings: many mentions of food (specifically sweets such as cupcakes, brownies, cookies, etc.), some swearing, arguing, probably very poor editing oops <3

a/n: this is part of the @districtninewriters​​ “dear skz, with love” event :D THIS IS ALSO THE LONGEST FIC I’VE EVER WRITTEN AHHH i’m really really proud of it !!! i hope u love it besties !!!!!!!!

it was a frostbitten february evening when you met the boy at the bakery.

you were seated upon the counter, back turned to the deep brown door through which you’d first entered months ago, eager to apply for a barista position. minho sat across from you on the cashier stool. he was always better with the baked goods. you were a great team. the two of you were bored; a familiar feeling that accompanied weeknights at the bakery-cafe. people tended to arrive either in the morning time or late in the afternoon, and very seldom later. plus, your manager trusted the two of you enough to lock up on your own. and so, the two of you would be left to your own devices for a few measly hours a night per week.

“i bet you couldn’t make a batch of sugar biscuits without instructions,” he teased with a snarky grin. he was right. that was more his thing than yours.

so, you retaliated. “i bet you can’t do the same with a mocha frappe. or even simpler: an iced americano.”

“please!”

“oh yeah? step right up, biscuit boy,” you retorted with a giggle, gesturing to the coffee maker that sat beside him. there were multiple in the shop, and truth be told, he had no idea which was used for what types of beverages.

confidently, he grabbed a cup from the stack on the table behind him, striding over to one of the machines. he then took a look at all the knobs and buttons, clearing his throat. you chuckled. with his finger ghosting over one of the buttons, he turned back toward you to check for your reaction. “not even close,” you remarked. he clicked his tongue, turning back toward the coffee maker. “just a hint,” you added, “the first step isn’t coffee.”

he simply looked up, bewildered. he turned back toward you, dropping his hands to his sides and parting his lips into a circular expression of disbelief.

suddenly, the sparkling tone of the door chime behind you caught both of your attention. peculiar. nobody was usually around at that hour. as minho put his cup back on the table, you hopped off the counter, turning toward the front of the store.

in walked one of the most strikingly handsome boys you think you’ve ever seen. if not the most handsome. an angular face; fair, slightly pink-tinted skin decorated with the most endearing assortment of freckles. they were almost reminiscent of the chocolate sprinkles minho used to top off the cupcakes situated inside the glass counter case. his hair was a vanilla blond and long enough to delicately cascade over the side edges of his face. cherry red lips that parted upon his arrival, chocolatey brown eyes staring right back at yours. he was astonishing.

“how can we help you?” minho asked him, stepping forward. he couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes seemed to be bugging out of your head. he had to stifle a chuckle or two.

the boy’s eyes lingered on yours for a moment. or maybe you dreamed it that way. regardless, he walked up to the counter, inquisitively placing his hands behind his back and bent over to glance at the contents of the case. “hi! uh…” he seemed sweet, though his voice was much deeper than you’d expected. it was unique. he was unique. and in quite a rush, as well. “...shit,” he cursed under his breath. he seemed to have startled himself with his expression. he looked back up at you, then at minho, a tight-lipped smile and strawberry-pink blush appearing on his face. “sorry,” he said.

minho finally let out a chuckle. “no worries. what’re you looking for?” he was always so good with the customers. smooth yet considerate, witty, yet firm. you always aspired to be a little more like minho when it came to customer service.

“do you have any of the salted caramel cupcakes left? they seem to be gone.”

“ah, we seem to have run out of those. could i interest you in a peanut butter cupcake instead?”

the boy shook his head. “no… she likes caramel.”

she. there was a she.

“may i ask what the occasion is?” minho asked.

“it’s my mom’s birthday, and she’ll be home from work soon... hopefully. i would’ve made my own gift to her but i didn’t have the time…”

“enough said,” your coworker assured him. “does she like chocolate? we have a few salted caramel brownies in the back.”

he almost gasped. “that’s perfect!” he paused. “um… how much is that? i-is it more than the cupcake, or…?”

minho glanced through the glass at the tag beside the brownie tray. “nope. less, actually.”

the boy let out a short sigh of relief. “great. thanks so much.”

“ah, it’s nothing. one sec,” minho said before walking into the kitchen to grab the brownie from the fridge. an awkward silence ensued between you and the boy.

“a name for the order?” you blurted. dumbass, you thought to yourself.

“i’m… the only one in the store…” he replied.

heat rose to your cheeks. “i… um… it’s protocol-”

“felix.” he cut you off before you could embarrass yourself further. he could tell you were nervous.

a unique name as well. of course.

“coming right up, felix,” you murmured, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. both of you chuckled.

minho came back out to the counter holding a small blue box with the cafe logo on top. “you’re all set! that’ll be…” he pressed few buttons into the cash register before continuing. “ten thousand won.”

“perfect.” felix grabbed his wallet out of his coat pocket. he pulled out a few bills from the black leather case, handing them to minho with a small smile. he was excited to surprise his mother, and happy that it wouldn’t cost as much as he’d thought it would. and you found it adorable.

minho took the money, ringing felix up and inserting the bills into the register. he handed felix the box, which made the boy’s face light up even more. it was hard for you to suppress a similar countenance. “i hope she likes it. have a good night!” minho said, closing the register. he crossed his arms and leaned on the counter as felix waved to the both of you and began walking back toward the door.

“thanks so much. you too,” he said, giving minho a small bow.

with his hand on the door, he glanced back at you once more. you smiled. he returned the expression. and just like that, with a brief gust of cold air sweeping through the shop, the boy was gone.

“you, uh… you know we only take names when there’s a line, right?” minho teased as the door shut, the chime letting out what seemed to be a pitied laugh. 

you held your hands up to your forehead. “ugh, i know! i’m such an idiot,” you replied, letting your nerves go with a chuckle. he patted you on the shoulder, laughing with you.

in between laughs, he remarked, “he really made you that nervous, huh?”

“you could tell?! oh, great… wonderful!” 

the two of you carried on for a moment, making light of the otherwise mortifying exchange. but finally, minho glanced at the clock and asked, “would you mind locking up tonight? i’ve got a date.”

“ooh!” you cooed, taunting him. “a date... who’s the not-so-lucky lady?”

“what joke book did you get that one from, hm? i had no idea you even knew how to read!” you gave him a playful punch in the arm for his sarcastic dig, causing him to giggle. yet, he answered your question, saying, “it’s a girl i met on the train home from school the other night. chaeyoung.” he looked off to the side, seemingly entranced. “she’s really witty and smart… and gorgeous. like... gorgeous.”

“ah, yes… so gorgeous that it causes men to leave their posts… and friends…”

“if i bring you back some takeout, will you quit being an ass?”

you pondered the question for a moment. and, while you’d be bored as hell in his absence, closing up the shop wasn’t much of a hassle on weeknights… and, well, you could always go for a free meal. “...pleasure doing business with you, lee minho.”

“thank you. as with you,” he commented in return. he took off the periwinkle blue, involuntarily worn apron which you’ve both been made to wear, revealing what you hadn’t even noticed was a dressy outfit. well, dressier than usual. he’d opted for a pale blue button-up shirt, tucked into black skinny jeans, all tied together by a chic black belt and a pair of black loafers. not to mention the small silver hoop earrings and matching necklace. you had to admit, he did look dapper.

he quickly strode to the back of the kitchen at which there resided a small storage room where you and the other employees usually dropped off your belongings. he grabbed his backpack and put on his long black coat, quickly making his way back up to the counter and walking around to the front of the store. “catch you tomorrow! thanks again.”

“takeout! don’t forget!”

“i couldn’t even if i tried,” he retorted, opening the door. the two of you waved to each other before he took his leave. 

moments later, the door opened once again. you figured minho must’ve forgotten something. looking up, you began to ask, “what’d you forget this ti-”

it wasn’t minho.

it was felix.

he paused in his footing, little blue box still in hand. you jumped just a little. he noticed. “s-sorry… i just, um…” he looked off to the side. “i guess this is a bit of a long shot... considering the two of you seem to be more than enough staff… but…” he paused again, taking a moment to straighten his posture and scratch the back of his head. “is there any chance you might be hiring… any time soon?”

the answer was no. undoubtedly. he was right in thinking that you, minho, and the other employees were perfectly capable of handling the cafe. though some mornings and weekends were a bit tight, the team made it work. if this was anybody else, you could’ve easily said no.

yet, he persisted. “i can bake! i like to think i’ve been getting better at it… and i can clean as well.”

you couldn’t turn him down. you simply couldn’t. not with those kind eyes locking themselves with yours, the enthusiasm in his deep voice, or the hastening beat of your heart. “i’ll talk to my manager!” you affirmed. you smiled, causing a similar reaction out of him. an idea popped into your mind. if only for a moment, you thought it was the best you’d ever had. your eyes averted themselves to the pale yellow note pad and ballpoint pen on the counter, used to take orders from seated customers. “here,” you said, reaching for the pen and paper and handing it to felix. “if you’ll give me your number, i can text you with any updates.”

he walked back up to the counter for the second time that night, taking his number down on the pad. as you watched him intently, eyes fixated on his concentrated face, you silently praised yourself for being so brave. especially after the whole name debacle. your heart was at its wits’ end. “there,” he said, placing the pen down on the counter and sliding the notepad back to you. “i really appreciate it.” he sounded so genuine. he flashed you another smile. he had such a grand, bright, toothy smile. it would stay in your memory for days, weeks, even months to come. you can still recall it now.

“it’s no problem,” you responded. “...i really hope your mom likes the brownie.”

“thanks. i’m sure she will.” he turned to walk toward the door. you almost turned away as well, excited to examine the style with which he’d written on the pad, until he spun back around once more. “oh! one more thing… can i get your name as well?”

the question came as a bit of a surprise. you nodded to him, letting out a short giggle. “y/n.”

he grinned again. it was smaller that time; a bit more subdued. effortfully so. “ah. well…” he began walking backward, eyes connected with yours as he headed toward the door. “goodnight, y/n.”

“goodnight, felix.”

and thus, your pursuit for a job offering began.

your manager, chan, was reluctant to accept your proposal for him to give felix an interview. however, you made note of how eager he’d seemed that night and the skills he’d mentioned having. you also mentioned how he’d been so enthused to find out the price of his order. and so, after a couple days’ worth of mulling it over, chan finally gave in.

you weren’t supposed to be at the cafe when felix was being interviewed. however, your saturday afternoon shift had just ended, and the place was essentially empty. well… apart from you, chan, felix, and then jeongin, who wandered in from the storage room to find you eavesdropping from behind the wall separating the kitchen and the dining area. 

“y/n?” he asked. “what are you-”

you inaudibly shushed him, motioning for him to come closer and hide with you. he did so.

“chan’s interviewing someone,” you whispered to the boy.

“ah…” he responded, his tone hushed. “so why are we hiding?”

“because we’re not supposed to be listening.”

“so why are we doing it?”

“because i want to know how it’s going.”

“so why can’t you just-”

you shushed him again. he obliged, covering his mouth with his hand.

from the other side of the wall, chan asked, “so felix, do you have a resume?”

“uh…” felix stammered. you could hear the nerves in his voice.

“let me put it this way,” chan offered instead. “do you have any prior working experience? at another cafe, another store, a completely different place...?”

“oh! yes. i’ve bagged groceries at the supermarket on third street for the last few months. that’s where my mom works. but i’d much rather work here, if i’m honest...”

“ah. okay.” chan nodded, jotting down some notes in his notebook. “so y/n told me you could clean...”

before chan could finish, felix proudly exclaimed, “i can! i do a lot of cleaning at home.”

“perfect.”

the interview went on for a few more minutes. jeongin let out a few silent chuckles every once in a while, mocking your state of concentration. but who could blame you? you just wanted to make sure felix got the position. he seemed to need it.

you totally weren’t in it for his smile… the freckles… the adorable creases that formed at the edges of his eyes when he grinned with that sweet, genuine, toothy grin of his… no, not at all…

nevertheless, he got the job.

“i love this apron,” felix had said to you on his first day. he was quite fond of your uniform. everyone else in the shop hated them; what, with the pale blue color, white pinstripe pattern, and the ‘one-size-fits-all’ design. yet, in every sense of the phrase, it fit felix perfectly.

“i’m glad someone does,” you replied. he laughed.

“when i got the cleaning job, i wasn’t sure i’d get to wear one. but i’m happy i do.” he smiled at you, his pearlescent teeth on full display and face aglow with joy. 

after about a week of training, felix became a natural at his job. though it wasn’t much, he took great pride in his work and enjoyed taking any opportunity he saw to do a little extra sweeping, some more dish washing, and even some dusting here and there.

he also fit right into the employee dynamic. every once in a while, you’d find him playing hand games with jeongin. or, sometimes, minho would discuss baking with him, as he often noted his affinity for it.

“have you ever tried using oats in your chocolate chip cookies?” felix asked. it was monday night. and, as per usual, the shop was devoid of customers.

minho looked puzzled. “oats?”

“yeah. it adds a little nuttiness. it’s really, really good.”

“huh… i’ll have to try it out sometime. i like to add a bit of coffee grounds to the flour when i make mine.” then, he leaned in to whisper, “don’t tell chan, though.” felix let out a nervous giggle.

“don’t worry,” you said to him. “minho’s only kidding. i’d never let him touch my coffee grounds.” this made all three of you laugh.

after the laughter died down, felix looked at the clock. it was four in the afternoon. “well, my shift is over,” he said. you were disappointed. hanging out with felix had become a bit of a highlight for you. he always carried himself so kindly. he had a bubbly soul, and a pure twinkle took residence in his eye whenever he smiled. you couldn’t help but feel light and airy while around him.

“hey, i’ve been meaning to ask,” minho started to felix. “do you bike here?”

the other boy was confused. “no. why?”

“oh… then, do you walk?”

“yeah. it’s only a few blocks,” felix responded, shrugging.

“do you need a ride?”

felix paused to think. “don’t you need to stay here? to lock up and everything…”

“i’ll come right back.”

you chimed in, suggesting, “i can close tonight.”

“you sure?” minho asked you. “i don’t have any food to bribe you with this time.” you both chuckled.

“it’s fine by me,” you said.

minho thanked you, stating once again that he owed you. the amount of times you’d done this for him was countless. but you never seemed to mind. and so, off they went. you were glad felix had integrated into the friend group so well. you supposed that he was just that loveable.

when it finally came time for you to close up shop having not received any other customers for the night, you waltzed into the storage room to grab your things. however, you noticed something strange sitting atop one of the shelves that hadn’t been there that morning.

an envelope. with your name on it. and a tupperware container filled with a single slice of what looked like chocolate cake.

your heart flinched. you were shocked. flustered, flushed. confused… but endeared. you hesitated. shakily, you tore open the cream-colored envelope’s seal, careful not to rip too much. you wanted to preserve its crisp smoothness.

“y/n,” the note said...

“a gift to you,

a chocolatey treat,

a token of thanks

for being so sweet.

~ me”

your heart fluttered. you ran to the kitchen, opening the container and grabbing a freshly-cleaned fork from the metal sink. you dried it off on your apron before excitedly digging into the dessert. it was more of a brownie than a cake, you realized, with melted chocolate chunks stuffed inside. it tasted amazing.

you began wondering who this mystery gifter could’ve been. it couldn’t have been minho… it simply couldn’t have. the two of you were much too close. and he was always more confident than anybody you’d met. if he liked you, you would have already known. besides, things seemed to be going well with him and chaeyoung. no… this had to be someone else. jeongin, perhaps. he did always made such high praises about your cappuccino-crafting abilities. you looked to your left and right, peering around the kitchen for signs of life. but alas, you were all alone in the cafe. 

then it hit you.

of course...

felix.

you recalled the first time you met. when you had him jot his number down on the piece of paper. you remembered his handwriting; the way some characters curled on the ends, the rounded shape of his letter e, the squiggly line he used before he signed his name… it was felix. it had to be.

and you were ecstatic.

the next day, you entered the shop to find a full house. it was a saturday morning, after all. you enjoyed the breakfast rush, mainly because you got the chance to show off your coffee-making skills. you made your way to the kitchen, greeting jeongin at the counter on your way in. you said hello to minho and seungmin as well, who were busy stand-mixing and hand-folding various types of batter. they were a great team, especially on mornings like those. though they tended to bicker about ingredients and proportions, the sweet treats they’d concoct always turned out excellently.

finally, felix emerged from the storage area, duster in hand. when he saw you, however, he froze. with his eyes wide and cheeks beginning to flush, he greeted you. “h-hi, y/n… good morning!”

you let out a bit of a giggle. does he know that i know? you asked yourself. granted, the mysterious gift giver signed off as ‘me,’ so you couldn’t say you were positive… but this reaction told you otherwise. “morning!”

he nodded, smiling nervously. he gestured to the storage room. “the shelves in there are all dusted now.”

“great! i think i’ll… um…” you pointed to the room, slipping past him to stash away your belongings and put on your apron.

“yep! you… do that…” he muttered as you walked away.

however, when you walked in, you found something peculiar displayed upon the shelf.

another envelope. and another container.

you turned back toward the door to find felix peeking in. you chuckled. “so it was you!”

he stepped to the side, coming into full view. “how’d you know?” he asked.

“i just… had a feeling.” you grinned.

he paused, a tight-lipped smile spread across his face. “well, open it.”

you placed your coat and bag on one of the shelves below. you then opened up the envelope just like you had the previous night: meticulously, yet enthralled. it read,

“another dessert

for a person so sweet

will you honor me kindly,

and go out with me?

YES / NO

~ me”

once you looked back up at him, felix commented, “you were supposed to circle one…” he then began rambling. “i thought you didn’t come in until later. you don’t have to say anything right now, or at all, and-”

though you thought it adorable, you cut off his nervous prattle, stating, “yes.”

his eyes grew even wider, his strawberry tinted lips forming a circular shape. “you mean…”

“i’ll go out with you, felix,” you confirmed.

his face lit up. and yours did, too.

thus, one date became two, two became four…

by the end of february, you were officially a couple.

you were a perfect match. each of you complimented each other so well, rivaling the bittersweetness of a good cappuccino when paired with a light and fluffy slice of cake. like minho, felix’s baking abilities and knowledge never ceased to amaze you. you explained the ins and outs of coffee brewing while he told you all about how he bakes his tasty treats. he even showed you some of the recipes his mom handed down to him from generations past.

his mom sounded so wonderful… yet, a part of you felt so sorry for her. felix’s dad left when he was young, and she’s always had to fend for herself and her son all on her own. however, when she was let go from her office position the previous year, things began to spiral. she took up two jobs: one at the local grocery store and another waitressing at a restaurant in the next town. she was always so busy. but felix understood. he tried helping out, especially by working at the supermarket with her that fall. nothing seemed to get any better. 

that is, until he landed his job at the cafe.

felix constantly thanked you for helping him out. chan paid him a considerable amount more than what he’d received at the supermarket, which helped him and his mother out greatly. anything would. aside from telling how lovely, smart, witty, and gorgeous you were, felix’s mission in life was to remind you how you’d saved it.

one monday, you entered the storage room on your break to find a sight all too familiar. a handwritten note and small sliver of baked loveliness, all wrapped up in a metaphorical bow of allure and intrigue. nevertheless, however, you were still just as giddy as the first time you’d received one of felix’s treats. suddenly, you felt a finger graze along your shoulder, moving your hair to the side as an arm wrapped itself around your waist. two warm, pillowy lips made contact with your cheek, gently pecking the skin. felix.

you let out a giggle. “is this for me?” you asked, facetiously.

“of course,” he muttered beside your ear, his tone low, entrancing, and chill-inducing. he kissed your cheek again, holding you close and swaying you from side to side. “it’s another brownie. try it,” he suggested as his chin settled upon your shoulder.

you did as he said, biting into the small slice of fudgy goodness. to your surprise, chunks of melted caramel oozed out of the dessert, cutting through the rich chocolatiness of the brownie with a tangy edge. you hummed in satisfaction. “a salted caramel brownie,” you noted, swallowing your bite.

he chuckled. “i figured i’d finally try it out, maybe give some to my mom… do you like it?”

you placed the sweet back into its container and turned around in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck. you smiled. “i love it, lix. thank you.”

he grinned back at you. pulling you closer by the waist, he sealed the space between his lips and yours with a kiss. his lips were always even softer and more captivating than the texture of his confections. sweeter, too.

after his lips left yours, he gazed into your eyes, holding you close. “open the note, love.”

you excitedly spun back around, doing as instructed. opening the crisp white envelope seal and pulling out the folded sheet of paper, you read its contents.

“a caramel kiss

for you, my love.

i can’t give you the world.

but i hope i’m enough.

~ felix”

you paused. you were puzzled. visibly so, you figured, since when you turned around the look on felix’s face shifted.

he took your hand in his, rubbing small circles into the skin with his thumb. he kept his head down as he spoke. “i wish i could do more. i wish i could take you out to nice places, bake you batches of your favorite sweets, get you real gifts…”

a sharp pain struck your heart. “lix…” you murmured. “i don’t need any of those things. and as far as i’m concerned, these are ‘real gifts.’ they come from your heart. that’s as real as it gets.”

“i know, love, but…”

you placed a hand on his cheek, guiding him to look back up at you. “you don’t even have to do this stuff for me. i know that you care.”

he gave you a forced, shy smile. “okay. i’m glad.” he placed his own hand on top of yours, warm fingertips pressing gently against your skin.

“felix! y/n!” chan called from the kitchen. it was saturday night, and the last of the day’s customers were taking their leave. you were standing by the coffee-makers, in the middle of telling felix about the time you’d bested jeongin in a macchiato-making contest during a breakfast rush. 

both of you turned toward the kitchen door, concerned. chan poked his head out. “can you come here a minute?” he looked serious. something was wrong.

nevertheless, the two of you obliged. holding hands, you made your way to the kitchen, led by chan to the cooling racks. “what’s up?” you asked.

chan cleared his throat before shoving his hands into his pockets. “i have reason to believe that one of you, or both, has violated protocol.”

you quickly grew confused. felix’s hand tightened around yours. you glanced at him, noticing how his face flushed pale. “uh…” he stammered. 

“early this morning, seungmin pointed out that we’re low on cocoa powder. now, that’s odd, especially considering we had three cans of it yesterday. now we only have two.” you both nodded at him, following along. “...so i took a look at the camera footage.”

felix let go of your hand. “c-cameras?” he stuttered. you were even more confused.

“yeah. the cameras,” chan confirmed, looking felix dead in the eye. “i watched the footage from yesterday. and the day before.”

felix gulped. “you… you did….”

“what the hell is going on?” you asked.

chan let out a bit of a sigh. “y/n. were you aware that felix has been taking ingredients from the kitchen?”

your heart dropped.

you glanced at your boyfriend. he glanced back at you. he then bit his bottom lip, averting his eyes down to the floor. you looked back at chan, calmly answering, “no… i had no idea.”

“is that true?” chan asked.

“yes.” you then turned to felix, face ablaze. “it’s true.”

“then in that case, you can go for the night. i’d like to talk to felix. alone.”

after one last unreciprocated look at your boyfriend, you quickly rummaged through the storage room, collected your things, and left. you stood outside of the cafe, waiting for whatever might happen next. your stomach was doing flips. you couldn’t possibly believe what you’d heard.

minutes elapsed. it felt more like hours. all you could think to do was lean up against a lamp post and watch the gloomy clouds shift overhead. the sun was close to being fully set, casting a deep purple tint over the whole street landscape. and it looked as though it was about to rain.

after what felt like an exorbitantly long time, felix emerged from the shop. the door closed behind him as he bolted down the steps and onto the pavement, that familiar chime sending a chill through you. it sounded almost eerie that night. out of place. taunting.

“lix,” you called. you walked behind him, despite his quickening pace. but he wouldn’t stop or slow down. “lix,” you exclaimed again. no answer. finally, you grabbed his arm, realizing his apron was gone, and shouted, “felix! slow down.”

he scoffed, stopping dead in his tracks. “he fired me.”

you stared at him, blankly. once again, you couldn’t believe it.

“i tried to do something nice, and he fired me.”

“do you think it makes me feel any better?” you asked. “you getting yourself fired so you could make me little brownie experiments?” you paused, taking a deep breath. you were outraged. more so with yourself. you should’ve asked how he was finding the time or the resources to be doing what he was doing. you should’ve known. “i thought you needed this job. when were you gonna tell me you were a thief?”

“a thief?!” felix’s eyes seemed to be bulging out of his head. he was surprised at your verbiage. he’d never seen you upset like this. “y/n, i’m not a thief.” you rolled your eyes. his cheeks flushed crimson. a prickling sensation began around his eyes. a stinging, almost. tears. he looked down at his sneakers. tattered white converse. the same ones he wore every day to work. the same ones on which he’d splattered a few droplets of brownie batter during his latest attempt at making you a gift. now, it just looked like a stain of mud. “i didn’t just take cocoa powder. i took eggs… some milk… a couple cups of flour here and there… my mom got demoted at the restaurant. she works the bar now. she thinks i asked for the stuff. so yeah, i did need this job! i do need it. i just fucked up...” under his breath, trying not to give into the tears that prodded at his eyes, he remarked, “‘little brownie experiments’... that’s all they ever were to you? little brownie experiments...”

you realized what you’d said. of course that’s not all they were to you. they were everything to you. but that isn’t what you’d said. “lix… i-”

“you know what, you’re right,” he muttered, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet, hands clasped behind his back, and eyes rapidly blinking to avoid the inevitable. “they probably weren’t even all that good.”

you took a step closer to him. a drop of water fell onto your shoulder from above. “no.. no, that’s not what i-”

but, as quickly as you approached him, he stepped back. he locked eyes with you once again. his eyes were glossy; tainted with the aftereffects of a broken heart. suddenly, a steady stream of drizzling rain began to fall from the night sky above you. felix’s lip quivered. yet, with a furrowing brow, he continued. “you know what, maybe this was all a mistake.” his voice cracked a bit; frayed at the edges. “maybe i should’ve gotten a different job. at a place that would pay me enough to be able to buy my own shit and pay my mom’s bills.” the rain fell harder now, coating his hair and dragging it down over his face. you didn’t even feel it as it completely drenched you as well.

seeing him like this affected you just as much as your words did him. guilt. the panging, crushing weight of guilt laid heavily upon your heart. “felix…” you whimpered, tears of your own beginning to cloud your line of sight. though, you could still see clear enough to watch him shake his head, turning around and beginning his ascent up the avenue. clear as ever. even despite the pitter-patter of evening gloom.

sopping wet, you marched back into the shop. you ripped off your apron, throwing it down upon the counter. you then walked back behind it to start preparing to close up for the night. all you wanted was to go home.

that is, until you spotted an envelope tucked beside the cappuccino maker.

a creamy white envelope, with your name and a heart inscribed on the back. and a tupperware container. a single teardrop descended from the corner of your eye, resembling the droplets of rain that covered your form. you carefully took hold of the envelope. you gently tore it open, making sure not to rip it, just like you’d done the very first and subsequent times.

“another present

for my love;

my dear y/n,

sent from above.

~ felix”

a drop of rain fell from your hair onto the page, dampening his name. the black ink began to run, the letters seeping into each other.

you could no longer control your tears. you took a seat on the floor, back resting against a leg of the table upon which the coffee makers stood. the metal was cold. but you paid it no mind. with your head on your knees, legs bent and arms wrapped around them, you cried. audibly. you couldn’t believe how you’d spoken to him. you should’ve known that he didn’t have the money to bake you these little presents on his own. you should’ve realized from the moment he confirmed it was him. at least, that’s what you thought to yourself as the tears expelled themselves from your system. 

he just wanted to make you something special. yes, he broke the rules. yes, he stole from the cafe. and yes, he knew it was wrong. but he just wanted to make you something special. it was the only way he believed he could. and you wish you’d seen that. not just so you could’ve prevented it, but also so you could’ve appreciated it even more. so you could’ve seen that not only was he working overtime to make you something you might enjoy, but that he was risking his job for you and his mother. it wasn’t a perfect gesture - not by a long shot. but he meant well. he always did. and you didn’t even give him the chance to explain.

you loved him.

after a few moments of solitude, you regained your breath. you sniffled, looking down at the note. you then stood back up, taking hold of the container. its contents looked delicious. but you couldn’t consume it. not even if you’d been hungry. so, you dumped it into the trashcan beside the table. and, with a deep, shaky breath, you ripped up the letter and envelope into tiny pieces. it was a bittersweet feeling, letting go. but you had to do it. and so, home you went.

a week passed. things never really changed at the cafe once felix left. weeknights were still as slow as ever. maybe even slower. you missed him.

minho emerged from the kitchen one evening to find you wiping down the cappuccino maker with a coffee-stained rag. it was the third time you’d done it that day. twice more than you were getting paid for. and of course he noticed. “how’re you holding up?” he asked.

you barely glanced up at him, busy rubbing the same spot on the metal machine over and over. this stupid stain just wouldn’t budge. each time you’d gone over it that day, you couldn’t seem to make it go away. it plagued your mind, infiltrating your subconscious when you least expected it until you finally decided to go back to it for the second time, then the third. it was a real mood killer. though your mood hadn’t been very lively when the day began, either. “‘m fine,” you replied through gritted teeth, brows angled inward as your focus remained on the task at hand.

“are you?” he questioned, playfully. he leaned on the counter behind you, crossing his arms and watching you scrub. “you’ve been going at it with that thing for hours now. what’d it ever do to y-”

“i’m fine!” you interjected. you then paused, both in speech and action. suddenly, you were aware of how fast you’d been rubbing the machine. as well as how loud your voice had raised itself. you turned around. “...sorry.”

he gave a pitied smile, crossing his arms. “it’s ok. i’m fine,” he replied, mimicking you. it made you chuckle. he was glad it did. “is, uh… is this a bad time to ask you to lock up? i’ve got a.. uh…”

“a date?” you supposed, unfeeling.

he cleared his throat, glancing between you, the clock above you, and his shoes. “yeah,” he confirmed. “with chaeyoung. would you mind?”

“not at all.”

“you sure?” you nodded. “alright… i owe you one… or ten...” he joked, untying his apron.

“no you don’t,” you murmured, eyes drifting to the side. you almost turned back around, heart set on getting to that stain, until you felt his hand on your arm. you glanced at each other for a moment. he looked sad. sorry. he pitied you. and you hated it. yet, as he took you in his arms, wrapping you into a tight, benevolent hug, you became a little less tense. a little less angry. you hugged him back, burying your face into his shoulder. this was the first time you’d ever engaged in such a gesture with your coworker. sure, you were friends. and sure, you’d talked about some deep stuff on nights like these with nothing better to do. but this was different. meaningful. sweet.

after a moment, minho remarked, “you know i miss him too, right?” he sounded mockingly peeved. “he was your boyfriend but he was my friend.”

you looked up at him, confused. “you’re not still friends?”

he chuckled. “no! he’s avoiding me the same way he’s avoiding you.”

laughing with him, you responded, “shit… i’m sorry, minho.”

“you have nothing to apologize for.” he let go of you, hands remaining on your sides for a moment. “you both messed up. it’s not all your fault.” you nodded to him, a reluctant, close-lipped smile upon your face. he glanced up at the clock again before pulling his apron off. “i’ve gotta go. thanks again for locking up, y/n.” he walked past the counter to the front of the store. “i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he added, pointing at you while striding backwards toward the door.

“see you tomorrow,” you replied, waving to him. “have fun.” you still sounded a bit bitter. you couldn’t help it.

“thanks,” he said. the chimes twinkled as the door closed. it haunted you.

and with that, he was gone. nothing but you, your rag, and that unnerving coffee stain for another half-hour’s time.

you heard the opening and closing of the door behind you once again. with a sigh, not even bothering to turn around, you blurted, “we’re about to lock up for the night.”

no response. odd. maybe they didn’t hear you. you tried again, raising your voice a bit but continuing your attempts to clear up the stain all the while. “i apologize, but we’re closed for the night-”

“one salted caramel brownie, please.”

a familiar voice. a familiar, low-toned, nostalgia-inducing voice. the voice that, at one time, softened for you… close enough to your ear to make your stomach tie itself in knots. the voice that made you giggle, the voice that called you “love”... the voice that cracked when faced with the realization that it was never to be heard by you again. you spun around.

a familiar face, too.

felix.

his eyes gazed into yours. somber, silent.

“y-you...”

“hey.”

tags: @magglesx, @crscendoforsung, @stayndays, @hanniiesuckle17, @leggomylino, @freckledberries, @pixielix, @skzctnightnight, @serenityswords-main​, @childofthecosmos, @changbinniee​, @kpopscape​, @skzwriternet, @hyunsins, @sleepylixie, @ncityluvvs, @vera-liscious (send a 🍓 in my ask box to be added for skz !)

©️ cotccotc 2021 ~ all rights reserved. do not repost my work on tumblr or other platforms.

#*fics #districtninewriters #inkidz #skzwritersclub #straykidsland #fluffyskzclub #angstyskzclub #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz #stray kids #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #felix #lee felix #felix fluff #lee felix fluff #felix imagines #lee felix imagines #yongbok #lee yongbok #yongbok imagines #yongbok fluff

[theoriginalladya]

WIP game, hot tub and tats!

Hehehe This is one I just started drabbling on about a year and a half ago that I really want to work in to ME3 events somehow! (It also, as I now look at it, needs several headcanon adjustments...)

Thanks so much for asking!

~~~

“Tell me about this.”

They sit side by side in the hot tub, a surprisingly nice finish to an otherwise low-key sort of day, but Caleb is more than grateful for the lack of activity. For once, the galaxy doesn’t need him to save their collective asses every single second; he can relax, be himself, recover.

His eyes lazily track over to his right bicep where Kaidan’s fingertip traces the inked design. The touch is gentle yet stimulating at the same time, and his eyes close as he simply savors the attention. He doesn’t need to see it to sense which lines Kaidan misses, probably on purpose. A slightly smug smile curves across his lips, and the smartass comment escapes before he can stop himself. “What’s it look like?” The finger hesitates; Caleb cracks one eye open just enough to catch the expression of exasperation. The smirk morphs into a full-fledged grin, and he gives in… sort of. “Correct me if I am wrong, but I believe they are called tattoos.”

Kaidan’s eyes narrow on him; Caleb considers that win number one. “I’m looking for the story behind it.”

This time when the finger starts moving there’s decidedly more of a tingle accompanying it. Caleb’s eye is drawn to the soft blue haze surrounding Kaidan’s hand. Another chuckle escapes – the biotics tickle against bare skin. The sensation isn’t all that bad, if he’s honest, and he softly hums his approval. “The Celtic braid is the… band,” he explains, searching for words that explain what he innately knows. “The beginning and end, the circle of life, you could say. If you start at one end,” which, if he’s guessing correctly based off sensation alone, Kaidan is, “and follow it, you will find your way back around.” He lifts his arm so Kaidan can continue following the design.

Surprisingly, Kaidan is silent for the next several moments; the sensation continues, tracing the pattern of the braid until it comes to a stop. “And the N7 here?” His gaze rises to meet Caleb’s again. “That isn’t Celtic.”

“No, it isn’t.” Caleb moves slightly, straightening so he can turn his left arm into view. A similar band design is found there, but instead of framing the N7 logo, there is the top of a Celtic cross in which the circle is formed by the hands and heart of the Claddagh. There is another difference between the two tattoos as well; where the one on the right has the band inked in black with a red and white N7 outlined in black, the cross and Claddagh are simply black. “I originally got this one years ago after I left Shannon with Anderson,” he says. “To remember where I started, where I found myself, where I call home…” His voice trails off, his eyes focus on the wall beyond Kaidan’s shoulder. “When Cerberus brought me back, it was gone, so I got reinked during our hunt for the Collectors.” Though the memories are hazy now, every once in a while, an ache sneaks back in.

Shaking his head to free himself, he turns his attention to his right arm. “This one,” he continues, his mood increasing greatly as a grin spreads across his lips, “I got once I completed ICT.” He laughs, the grin turning sheepish. “Met up with Coats and we went out drinking. He dared me to get it, and you know me, I never walk away from a challenge.” Their eyes meet and Caleb sees the curiosity growing in Kaidan’s. “Don’t tell me you’re considering getting one?”

Startled, Kaidan shakes his head. “What? Oh, no, nothing like that. I was thinking more about the ‘not walking away from a challenge.’”

Caleb snorts softly. “I was young and stupid, still probably a bit too full of myself at the time.”

“Still. Right.” The look in Kaidan’s eyes suggests he doesn’t believe that, and it hits Caleb then that he would actually know. “Who dared you?” Kaidan asks, distracting him.

An image of Hammersmith comes to mind … Silently, Caleb wonders how the bastard is doing, and if he’s even still alive. There‘s no telling with this war, and the last he heard from him was one brief message while he was out hunting Collectors. “Roommate from sniper school.” Caleb shakes the thoughts away and leans over to nuzzle Kaidan’s neck. “I feel I should warn you,” he murmurs, Kaidan shivering beneath the touch, “I always win at Truth or Dare.”

The shivers don’t stop and within seconds, it triggers Kaidan’s biotic aura. “Yeah?”

Caleb pulls back with a nod. “The truth may hurt,” he says, “but dares are far more painful.”

“I’ll… keep that in mind.”

#swaps55 #WIP Game #ladya writes #mshenko #Caleb Shepard #Kaidan Alenko #OTP: Brothers In Arms #definitely a few things to change up #but I love the idea of it

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

matching tattoos

warnings: none

word count: 1.8k (the longest i’ve done in a while whoo 🎉)

"Stevie, I don't think your mom will be too happy with me if I let you do this," Harry said, eying his two year old daughter. She had been asking about it for weeks, but so far he'd been able to distract her before you caught wind of their conversation.

"Pleeeease, daddy?" She pouted, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

"Why don't we have some cookies instead, love?" 

"No." 

"Ummm... oh! I know what we can do! Why don't we go in my studio? You can play the piano, or the guitar, maybe sing a song for me..." He trailed off.

"I want to do this! Please?" 

Harry's heart melted in three seconds flat. How could he say no to her? He tried, he really did. He opened his mouth to say "no, mommy will really kill me, why don't we do something else?" but one glance at her sweet face left him speechless. He couldn't do it. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

"Alright, we'll do it... but!" He cut himself off, raising his voice slightly to be heard over her excited cheering. "But! We only have two hours til mommy gets home." She nodded eagerly, bouncing on her feet. 

"And if we do this it has to be our secret, mommy can't know. Can you keep this secret?" He said, making a very serious face. 

"Yes!" She squealed, giggling. 

"Pinky promise?" 

She beamed, holding her tiny hand up to his. He wrapped his finger around hers, squeezing for just a second before releasing her. 

"Go get the markers then, we have to work fast!" 

Stevie screamed in excitement, running as fast as her little legs could carry her. He heard her digging around the art room, probably making a huge mess, before he heard a scraping noise on the wood floor. She was pushing a box of markers that was nearly as big as she was, groaning dramatically. 

"It's... too... heavy," she panted.  "Please help!" 

Harry smiled, leaning down to pick up the box. He scooped her up too, settling them both down on the table. 

"Alright, Miss Styles," he said, adapting a posh accent. "This is a proper tattoo parlor, so we shall do this properly, hm?" 

She laughed, kicking her feet. 

"I want the mermaid!" She said, pointing to the ink on his forearm. 

"Patience, Miss Styles," He smiled, wetting a paper towel under the faucet. "First, we have to get your arm ready!" 

She held out her arm, tracing her little fingers over his other tattoos as he wiped her wrist with the cloth. 

"So, the mermaid, hm? You have excellent taste, Miss Stevie," he joked, throwing the towel back to the sink. "What color?" 

"Black, like yours," she said, smiling sweetly. 

He felt his heart squeezing as he reached for a black marker. She was so precious. He would do anything, literally anything, to make her happy. He knew it was probably dangerous, how much power this two year old had over him, but he didn't care. He had been in love with her since the day she was born; since the first time he had looked at her. 

"We can match, look at that!" He said, beginning to draw on her arm. "Did you know that I love you sooooo much?" 

"I love you too, daddy," she giggled. "And that tickles!" 

"Oh, it tickles, does it? Should I stop?" He hovered the marker over her skin, glancing at her teasingly. 

"No!" She yelled. "I want to match you!" 

"Alright then," He said, laughing as he went back to his task. "Why don't we listen to some music?" 

"Yeah!" 

"What should we listen to?" 

"Your song, the fire!" 

"The fire?" Harry looked up, confused. "None of my songs have fire in them, bug." 

"Yes," she said stubbornly. "And the fish!" 

Harry thought for a second before it clicked. "Do you mean Adore You?" 

"That one!" 

"You're right," He laughed. "That one does talk about fire. I'll get it, yeah?" 

He set down the marker, picking up his phone. After a minute, she was dancing in her seat to the drums of Adore You. When the chorus came on, she sang "walk through fire for you" while looking at Harry triumphantly. 

"Did you know this song is about mommy?" He said, focusing on his drawing. 

"Really?" She asked incredulously, eyes wide. 

"Really! It's about how much I love her." 

"Yucky," She said, scrunching her nose.

  "Yucky? That's not yucky!" he exclaimed. "It's nice!" 

Stevie hummed, kicking her feet along with the music.

   "It's yucky." 

"Stevie, you're hurting my feelings!" He said, gasping and clutching his chest dramatically. "I can't go on," he sighed, throwing his other arm over his forehead. "I'm sorry, daddy," She giggled, reaching up to pull his arm back to her. "Keep going!" 

He smiled, adding the finishing touches to her drawing.

"And... there we go! One mermaid, just for you." 

She beamed, holding her arm next to his to compare. 

"Daddy... your mermaid has no clothes. She needs some." 

"How about you draw her a shirt?" Harry laughed, handing her the marker. She furrowed her brow, focusing intently on her task. 

"Good job staying in the lines, love!" He said, ignoring the scribbles around the outline. "And you were right, it does tickle." 

"I know!" She laughed, giving the marker back. 

"What now?" 

"The... the heart!" She said, pointing the the small filled in shape on his upper arm. 

"Sure, that's an easy one." 

He proceeded to give her at least ten more matching "tattoos", including a cross, an anchor, a poorly drawn rose, and the green bay packers logo. 

"Daddy!" She gasped. "I have a idea!" 

"What's your idea, princess?" 

"The butterfly! On my belly!" 

"You want a butterfly on your belly?" He asked, lifting his shirt to show her his. "Like this?" 

"Yes!" She clapped. "Like that!" 

They were having the time of their lives, drawing and singing as loud as they could to all of Harry's songs. He loved watching her face every time he finished drawing. Her eyes would light up and she would pull his arm to hers, showing him how they matched. Every time a new song came on she would squeal and kick her legs because "it's my favorite song!" 

They had just finished making silly noises together at the end of "Sunflower" when Harry heard a noise. He froze with the marker on her arm, looking up quickly. 

He reached over to pause the music, holding a finger to his lips when she whined at him. He glanced at the clock, hoping he was just imagining things. You weren't supposed to be home for another hour. But no, that was definitely the sound of the front door opening, followed by your voice calling out a greeting. 

"Mommy!" Stevie shrieked, launching herself off the table. 

"No!" Harry hissed, grabbing her before she could run off. "Stevie, we have to wash this off!" 

He scooped her up, running up the stairs to the bathroom. 

"Harry?" You called out. That was weird. You could have sworn you heard them in the kitchen. "Stevie?" 

"We're- we're upstairs, love!" Harry yelled back. "Just cleaning up!" 

Cleaning what? You wondered, but didn't dwell on it for too long. It had rained recently, so they had probably gotten muddy outside. 

You made your way to the kitchen with the grocery bags, beginning to put everything away. Then you saw the box of markers. You narrowed your eyes, confused when you realized there was no paper around. What had they been drawing on? 

Up in the bathroom, Harry was starting to panic. He had set Stevie up on the counter while he was rubbing at the ink with a washcloth. 

"It's not coming off! Why isn't it coming off? The box said washable!" 

"No, don't take my mermaid!" She cried, pushing his hands away. 

"Stevie, love, I'm sorry, but we can't let mommy see these. Remember? They're secret tattoos." 

"Mommy will like them! They're nice," She pouted. 

"No, I don't think she will," Harry said, laughing nervously. "Maybe if we..." he grabbed the bottle of soap, dumping some onto the cloth. "There we are! Whew," he sighed in relief. "Good thing that worked, or daddy might have been sleeping on the couch tonight." 

Just as he was lifting her off the counter, he heard a knock at the door.

  "Harry? What are you doing in there?" 

He swung open the door, smiling charmingly. 

"Just a little cleanup! We... spilled some yogurt. Right Stevie?" 

She nodded, looking up at you innocently. 

"Ok... why were there markers all over the table, but no paper to use them on?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

"Uh... we were going to color, but then... the... yogurt explosion..." 

"Oh, I see," you said, still suspicious. "Stevie," you said, kneeling down to be at her eye level. "Is daddy telling the truth?" 

Harry held his breath. Stevie was notoriously bad at lying. Usually, Harry was thankful for this, but right now he could do with a little fib.

"Yes mommy, yogurt went everywhere," she said, eyes going wide as she mimicked an explosion with her hands.

You smiled, straightening up. 

"Well, I'm glad you got it cleaned up. I'm going to go put the rest of the groceries away." 

Harry exhaled as you got to the bottom of the stairs. He quickly lifted Stevie up, spinning her around. 

"Thank you, Stevie. You're such a sweetie," He said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She giggled, wiping her face and wiggling in his arms.

"Let's go see what mom bought us!" He said, bouncing her as they ran downstairs. 

Harry thought he was in the clear. He really did. He had managed to scrub off all traces of the marker, including the scribbles drawn over his own mermaid. Luckily, Stevie was true to her pinky promise and didn't say a word. She told you about how they played outside and what books they read, but said nothing about the makeshift tattoos. She was good at being sneaky.

By the time Stevie was yawning, Harry really though everything was fine. When you went to change her into her pajamas, he settled into the couch to find a movie. 

Everything is fine, he thought. You had no id-

"Harry!" You yelled from down the hall. 

He hopped up from his seat, rushing to Stevie's room. 

"What is it?" 

"Harry," you said, turning towards him slowly. "Why does our daughter have a huge butterfly drawn on her tummy?" 

So close.

#harry styles #harry styles/reader #harry styles/you #harry styles/reader fanfiction #stevie #stevie fics #fluff #fluffy #harry styles x you #harry styles/you fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x reader fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfiction #dad!harry

[heliads]

Tells

Based on this request:  “the Avengers fight another battle in New York, including Buck. They win but between the destroyed buildings, Buck finds one familiar face, his Ex-girlfriend from Bucharest. He gets her free but fears she’s not surviving her injuries and he realizes how much he still loves her. While she’s in the hospital he finds out that she came to search him & after she wakes up a few days later, they decide to give their relationship another try”

masterlist

Bucky had known that this was going to happen for a while now. He had probably known since the moment he had met her. Every second of sunlight eventually turns dark with storm, and the loud crack of thunder always follows lightning, no matter how brightly it flares. 

He had not intended to stay in Bucharest. If Bucky was being smart, he would have moved on after a month or so, changing from country to country without leaving a trace. You can’t turn your back on an organization like HYDRA without garnering at least one tail, which is why Bucky had only planned on staying a week or two at most. If he could pass through Bucharest and out of Romania, he could disappear into some corner between Serbia and Bulgaria and be gone forever. That was what he had set out to do, anyway.

Then, he met her. The hour was early; most of the residents of this corner of the town were still asleep, passing the time away until they would have to get up and face the details of their otherwise mundane lives. Bucky couldn’t sleep anyway, too many nightmares crowded every space behind his eyes, so he had gotten up, jammed a black baseball cap over his head to at least partially obscure his face, and wandered around until he found a street packed with vendors, white tents already set up and displaying their goods.

Bucky passed by them aimlessly, not really looking for anything particular until he saw the fresh fruit vendor. He approached the tent, glancing over the tables in the front. There was a woman bent over some newly arrived crate in the back, but she straightens up and turns back around once she hears Bucky come closer. For a second, Bucky feels like he’s speechless. The woman is beautiful, and she walks with an easy grace as she waves goodbye to a friend of hers. She flashes him a smile that looks sweeter than any of the fruits set out before him.

Her name is Y/N, and she lives three streets down from him. Bucky hadn’t intended on staying, certainly not the five months, one week, and four days that has passed since he first arrived. He hadn’t intended on buying himself the small, shabby apartment down one of the sidestreets. He definitely hadn’t intended to start dating Y/N, to fall in love with her as if he was just some perfectly ordinary man who could hand away his heart to any pretty girl he saw.

Bucky told himself that despite his worries, he could be happy here. He had a dependable source of income from the odd jobs he found around the city, he had a shelter over his head, food on the table, and Y/N, a girl he found he loved more than anything. What more could he ask for? Yet after each perfectly ordinary day, he found himself lying awake at night, head pounding as he thought up every possible scenario in which things could go wrong.

It’s after one of these nights that Bucky finds himself awake after yet another night of not sleeping. The bags under his eyes only grow from week to week, and the stress he feels outweighs even the sense of exhaustion that hangs about him. He’s got a few more minutes before the day starts, so he decides to head over to Y/N’s apartment. He walks quickly, careful not to be noticed by any security cameras. Bucky honestly thinks that he might have made it, that he’s finally escaped from HYDRA’s reach, and then he reaches Y/N’s front door.

Instantly, he stops in his tracks. There’s a brochure tucked under one corner of her faded welcome mat, poking out just enough to be spotted. It’s a dark grey, with a red logo in the center. Bucky’s throat feels dry as he stoops over and pulls it out, and his heart drops with a sickening thud when he realizes just what that logo represents. It’s a skull, surrounded by six tentacles. 

HYDRA has found him.

More importantly, HYDRA has found Y/N. If this brochure is here, then that means they not only know where he is, but they know where Y/N is and that she’s important to him. They’ll hurt her if they think it’ll get Bucky to come back to them. That's a definite. Bucky runs a hand through his hair, mussing it even more, then clutches the brochure in his hand and walks quickly away, his visit to Y/N forgotten.

Bucky barely makes it back to his apartment before his nerves overwhelm him. It probably wasn’t the smartest decision to go immediately back home, especially seeing as HYDRA was most likely following him, but it doesn’t matter. He has to protect Y/N, has to get her out of here before HYDRA makes their move. But that doesn’t work either- wherever he goes, HYDRA will follow. He knows that. Besides, he can’t ask Y/N to uproot her entire life just to come with him. Bucky drops his head into his hands as he realizes just what he has to do to save Y/N. It will kill him, but at least she will be safe.

He doesn’t meet up with Y/N again until later that night. He places a brief phone call asking if he can talk to her at her apartment, and hangs up almost immediately once she agrees. His feet feel leaden on the walk over. 

When she opens the door, her happy grin at seeing him starts to fade when she sees the look on his face. “What’s wrong, Bucky?”

She’s sitting on the couch in her apartment. Bucky is still standing, arms folded tightly over his chest. He has to do this. It’s the only way. 

“I-” 

His voice cuts off for a second. “I want to break up with you.” 

Her smile looks frozen. “What?” 

Bucky speaks again, forcing his voice to come out stronger. “I want to break up with you. I don’t think we’re right for each other.”

Y/N stands up slowly, fixing him with a questioning look that feels as if it could cut right through Bucky’s soul. “What are you talking about? Just last week, you were telling me about how I was the only one who you could trust, about how I truly understood you.” 

Bucky shifts slightly on his feet. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” 

Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Okay, fine. Tell me you don’t love me. That’s why you want to break up, isn’t it? Say it directly to me.”

Bucky feels as if he’s going to fall apart right here in Y/N’s apartment, but he forces himself to harden his heart. Remember, he’s protecting Y/N. That’s all that matters, even if she hates him for the rest of her life. “I don’t love you.” He turns away for just a second, forcing himself to stay calm. 

“I don’t know if I ever loved you. I was just looking for a reason to stay.” 

The second the words leave his mouth, Y/N flinches as if he’d slapped her. Her eyes start to glisten with unshed tears, but her face otherwise remains calm.

“That’s all I wanted to know. I understand.” She says, and Bucky starts to open his mouth to say something, anything, to fix this, but one look at Y/N and he knows there’s nothing he can do. 

He starts to head towards the door. “Goodbye, Y/N.” 

He doesn’t have to say anything else to know that this will be the last time he sees her.

One week later, the headline in the papers says that Bucky bombed the Vienna International Centre, killing many including King T’Chaka of Wakanda. One week later, Steve Rogers shows up at Bucky’s apartment. One week later, Bucky leaves Bucharest, this time for good. He wonders if Y/N still thinks about him. He wonders how badly he hurt her, and if she will ever forgive him. It shouldn’t matter, as their paths will never cross again, but yet it does.

New York City is a tangled mess of destruction and desolation. HYDRA soldiers have dreamt up yet another villain, this one surgically enhanced to have supernatural abilities. With a slam of his foot against the ground, he can send a shockwave racing through the streets of New York, rattling the buildings and sending a shower of broken glass raining down from skyscrapers.

Bucky now fights alongside Steve, Natasha, and the rest of the Avengers. It’s odd, considering he’d only become their ally one year ago. Yet here they are, taking on this HYDRA threat as if they’d been a team since the very beginning. 

Steve’s voice echoes over his comms. “Bucky, Nat- the enhanced is heading towards Avengers Tower. If you stall him long enough, we can trap him with that new tech from Wakanda and knock him down long enough to take him out.” 

Bucky nods. “Affirmative. Heading over now.”

Nat is already waiting for him there, and the two Avengers launch a series of attacks against the enhanced. Angered, the HYDRA fighter slings a massive rock their way, one Bucky barely manages to deflect with his metal arm. He rotates his arm in a circle, making sure it still functions enough to hold a gun, then keeps moving.

Two bloody, dirty, exhausting hours later, the fight is over. The HYDRA enhanced is unconscious in a cocoon of light energy, and will be transported to S.H.I.E.L.D., where he will be handled accordingly. Bucky doesn’t even want to think about what will happen when HYDRA finds out its latest toy has been confiscated, and so he diverts his attention instead to helping Steve take care of the wounded, which still litter the streets of the city.

He’s almost done clearing one main street when he sees one particular body lying underneath a pile of broken rock and concrete. It couldn’t be- no- that’s impossible. He races over, using his metal arm to fling away the largest of the pieces of rubble. The second he sees the face of the injured woman, his heart drops in his chest.

Y/N lies before him, a thin line of blood trickling out of her mouth. Her left arm is bent behind her back, probably broken. Her legs are already littered with splashes of color that are quickly becoming bruises. Even like this, looking nothing like the girl he’d left behind, Bucky still feels frozen in place.

It’s been a year since he broke up with her, a year since he tossed away everything good in his life to protect her. On that walk home from her apartment, Bucky had felt sick with himself. The look in her eyes when he had told Y/N he didn’t love her felt like a gunshot straight through his heart. Now she’s here, mere inches away.

Bucky picks her up, holding her close to him. “Y/N? Y/N, can you hear me?” 

She coughs slightly, and it hurts Bucky to hear how much dust seems trapped within her lungs. “Yeah, I can. Not dead yet, you know.”

Bucky can’t find it in himself to laugh at her joke. “What are you doing here? I thought you were still in Bucharest.” 

Y/N shakes her head slowly, painfully. “Ever since that last time I saw you, something didn’t feel right about our conversation. I thought it was just because I felt so hurt that you didn’t love me, but then I realized what it was. You have this tell when you’re lying, you know. You look quickly to the side, so fast it’s almost impossible to tell. You clench your jaw slightly, and then you look back.”

“Right before you told me you didn’t love me, you looked aside. I couldn’t figure out why you would lie to break up with me, and then the lies about you bombing that place in Vienna were everywhere in the news. I figured you did it to protect me, and I knew I had to find you to tell you I was alright and to make sure you were too.”

Bucky just stares at her in wonder. “You figured all of that out? When did you come to New York?” 

Oddly enough, she doesn’t answer. Bucky looks at her, confused. “Y/N?” 

A sickening dread starts to spread in his stomach, and he realizes her eyes have this blank, distant look, like she isn’t there at all. Frantic, he places two fingers on her wrist. There isn’t a pulse.

Bucky carefully gathers her in his arms, then runs back to the main square. “Medic! I need a medic now!” 

There’s one doctor right around the corner, but why is he taking so long to get here? Doesn’t he know that Y/N’s about to-

The hospital waiting room smells of antiseptic. The floor has a repeating tile pattern of off-white and muted green. There are rows of square ceiling panels, one after the other. 

Bucky had been waiting for approximately four hours before the doctor finally comes into the room and nods at him. “Ms. L/N is just starting to wake up now. You can visit her if you like.”

Bucky stands up unsteadily, and follows the doctor back down the hall. The doctor stops before a set of doors. “She’s in here. Don’t be too long.” 

Bucky can only nod at the man dazedly before stepping inside.

It’s strange seeing Y/N like this, lying in the hospital bed. She looks so weak and frail, completely unlike the vibrant girl he’s so used to seeing. 

He must be staring, because she glances up at him with a quiet chuckle. “Come on, it’s not that bad.” 

Bucky moves closer. “You tell me- you were without a pulse for a while. Guess I’m just nervous.” 

Y/N smiles up at him, gently gripping his hand. “I’m okay now. Promise.” 

When Bucky looks back at her, he can’t help but think of all the regrets he’s had over the last year. Lying to her. Breaking her heart. Leaving her behind. 

He speaks up after a minute. “When you came here-” 

He breaks off. “Is there a chance you still love me? After everything?” 

Y/N nods slowly. “That’s why I took the flight to New York. I knew in my heart that James Buchanan Barnes would still mean too much to me to let go.”

Bucky can’t help a quiet chuckle. “Now you know my full name? I don’t remember telling you all of that.” 

Y/N joins in his laughter. “I’ve been to a couple of museums. Background research.” 

She straightens slightly, her tone shifting to become more serious. “But I do love you, Bucky. I never stopped loving you.” 

Bucky lets out a quiet breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I love you too. I had to lie to protect you, but I regretted what I said every single day.” 

The door opens, and the doctor leans in the room. “Sorry to break this up, but we need to run a few last tests on Ms. L/N. You can come back in about half an hour.” 

Bucky stands up reluctantly, saying his goodbyes to a tired Y/N. He doesn’t know how long it will take her to get out of the hospital, or how long it will take for her to truly move on past everything he had said back in Bucharest. All he knows is that he finally has the chance to get back with the love of his life.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagines #winter soldier #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagines #avengers #avengers imagines #avengers x reader #avengers imagine

[discoscoob]

Partners in Crime | Loki x Female Reader

Loki (Marvel) x Doctor Who

You go undercover and infiltrate the TVA in an attempt to rescue Loki from the shady organisation.

Part Nine | Part Eleven | Chapter Index

Words: 5.2k

Warnings: descriptions of Loki’s death in Infinity War

Read on AO3

You had ran back into the TARDIS and straight to the wardrobes, you dressed in a formal black work suit with a white blouse and a pair of black court shoes, a far cry from your usual style but since you had decided you were going undercover you thought you might as well look the part. You had covered the scrapes you acquired on your jaw and cheekbones during the battle of New York with some concealer and applied some light makeup to complete the look.

 You straightened out your suit jacket and checked your hair was neat enough by gently patting it with your palms to feel for flyaways, as you made your way back into the deserted control room. Your eyes landed on the Doctors jacket, as you passed it, noticing it was still discarded on the seats, since the Doctor hadn’t took it with him when he left.

 Despite already knowing the control room was empty, you glanced around just to be sure before you fished into the inside pocket of the suit jacket and felt around for the wallet containing the psychic paper. While you were feeling around you felt your fingers brush against the sonic screwdriver, you decided it might be useful so you pulled it out and slotted it into your own pocket before you returned to hunting for the psychic paper.

 You discovered that the Doctor wasn’t kidding when he said his pockets were bigger on the inside, you dragged out a yo-yo, a pair of retro 3D glasses, the yellow water pistol you used in Pompeii and a stethoscope before you finally managed to find the wallet containing the psychic paper. You discarded all the random objects on the seats along with the jacket before you turned on your heel and made your way out of the TARDIS.

 While you were in the unlit room the TARDIS had landed in, you blindly felt around for a light switch, until you remembered you had the sonic screwdriver, you used the small blue light on the end of it as a torch, it wasn’t very effective but it provided some visibility and from what you could see, you were in a maintenance closet.

 After slipping the sonic back into your pocket, you carefully pushed the door handle down and slowly cracked the door open and peaked out of it with one eye, exactly like you had done earlier. This time you were looking along the ceiling for any visible security cameras, from your position you could not see any.

 The corridor was once again deserted, so you proceeded to pull the door open wider and poked your head out to look both left and right. The decor was dated with an orange and brown patterned carpet which you might have found in a cheap hotel in the 70s and the walls were painted a creamy coffee colour.

 Swiftly you slipped out of the maintenance closet and gently pulled the door shut behind you, while still vigilantly looking up and down the abandoned corridor, now you had to decide which direction to go.

 To your right you were closer to the end of the hallway where there was a set of mahogany double doors with frosted glass panels, while to your left, the end of the corridor split off into two other separate corridors, after weighing up your options you decided to head towards the double doors. 

 The room you entered was spacious and well lit by large round lights that covered the entire ceiling. In the centre of the room there were retractable line divider belts in place which lead to a glass incased service desk, where you could see a bored worker was slouched in their seat. You took a deep breath and straightened your spine before you began to walk through the winding barriers towards the desk.

 Once you arrived you looked down upon the chubby, middle aged man who had not yet acknowledged your presence as he hunched over the desk, reading a colourful comic that was spread out on the surface in front of him. Your eyes nervously travelled around the room again as you double checked no one else was there before you hit the shiny, gold coated service bell with the palm of your hand.

 “Have you had your consultation with Miss Minutes?” The guard, who wore a name tag which informed you he was called Edgar, idly addressed you without looking up from his desk.

 “What?” You asked, already beginning to feel your nerves spike.

 “Every prisoner must have a consolation with Miss Minutes before standing trial for their alleged crimes.” Edgar explained, as if he was reading from a script.

 “Oh... I- I’m not a prisoner.” You nervously laughed, you were here to break Loki out, not get yourself arrested too.

 The guard finally lifted his eyes to you and took in your appearance and formal attire, you pulled the psychic paper from your pocket and held it against the glass, willing it to show him something that will grant you access to the prisoners.

 “You’re a psychiatrist?” Edgar questioned, appearing dumbfounded.

 “Yes.” You nodded confidently, as you returned the wallet to your breast pocket, “I am here to evaluate one of your prisoners.”

 “You’re in the wrong department.” He informed you as his eyes cast back down to his comic, you waited for him to tell you where to go, but he remained silent.

 “Which department do I need to go to?” You prompted him.

 “The prisoner department.” 

 Another pause. You rolled your eyes.

 “And where is that?” You tried to remain patient but getting information out of this man was like pulling teeth, you could feel the frustration building in your chest.

 “Down the corridor, to the left, take the elevator to floor VG2.” You were already making your way back through the winding line dividers by the time he was halfway through his sentence, you would have ran if you weren’t meant to maintain a professional cover, alas, you were confined to speed walking.

 As quickly as you could, you made your way down the carpeted corridor and turned left until you arrived to a pair of elevators with metallic gold doors. You pushed the black round button on a panel between the two elevators to call for one. You tapped your foot as you impatiently waited with your hands clasped in front of you. 

 The ding prompted you to lift your head just as the elevator doors began to slide open, your whole body halted to a stop mid stride as your eyes locked with a pair of familiar frosty green ones, which stared right back at you, holding just as much surprise. 

 You and Loki were completely frozen as the pair of you did nothing but stare at each other for a solid moment, which felt much longer than it actually was. You took in his appearance, the bulky collar he was wearing around his neck along with a loose fitting, beige jumpsuit which had an orange TVA logo printed on the left side of the chest. 

 Loki was the first to break contact as his eyes fleeted with panic to Mobius, who was stood next to him, but luckily he hadn’t noticed you as his attention was focused on studying a brown paper file which he held open in the palm of his hand.

 Quickly you jumped out of view and pushed your back flush to the wall between the two elevators before you heard Mobius tut with a sigh.

 “Don’t you just hate when the elevator stops on a floor and no one is there?” You heard Mobius say, there was no response from Loki before the doors slid back shut. 

 You rolled back off the wall with a sigh of relief and put your hand over your racing heart to calm it after almost getting caught. You looked up and followed the floor numbers above the elevator as they lit up, indicating which floor it was at, until it stopped in order to find out which floor Loki was being taken to and memorised it as you pushed the button to call another elevator. The doors to the other one opened and you stepped in and selected the floor which Loki was taken to. 

 With a ding the doors parted to reveal a concrete corridor, much different to the one you were on earlier. It was filled with people dressed in uniforms, some in plain brown suits and others dressed head to toe in black combat armour carrying weapons, you were wary of those ones. Your heels clicked against the hard floor and the sound echoed off the walls as you slowly made your way further down the winding corridor. You tried to not appear too inconspicuous as your eyes shifted around in search of a familiar face.

 You passed several dark wooden doors, any of which Loki and Mobius could have disappeared behind and you would have no idea, it wasn’t like you could go searching behind each individual one without drawing attention to yourself. 

 “Excuse me, are you lost?” A petite woman with a friendly disposition approached you, obviously having noticed the way you were aimlessly wandering without any direction. She had warm eyes and showcased her pearly white teeth with her plump glossy lips stretched into a kind smile. You instantly felt comfortable in her presence, so you were confident enough to be somewhat honest with her.

 “Yes actually, I’m looking for Mobius and I can’t seem to find him.” 

 Her eyes widened with delight at the fact that she knew exactly where he was and could help you as she pointed to a pair of double doors a few paces behind her. “I saw him go in there with one of the prisoners not too long ago.” 

 Your eyes shifted to the double doors and you noticed there was two security guards stood in front before you looked back at the friendly woman in front of you, “thank you,” you smiled.

 “No problem at all.” She told you as she began to make her way towards the elevator.

 Once she was gone, you searched for a corner to hide behind which also gave you a perfect view of the double doors as you waited for Loki and Mobius to come out. 

 A few minutes passed before you saw the door open and Mobius stepped out without Loki, you watched him disappear down the corridor before you rushed to the double doors, you were quickly halted by the security in front but you maintained a calm exterior as you reached into your pocket and showed them the psychic paper, they studied it for a moment as your heart raced with nerves, before one of them grunted with a nod and granted you access. 

 You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding after you shut the door, with your back turned to the room you just entered.

 Heat flourished through your stomach at the sound of Loki’s voice saying you name, as a smile curled at the corners of your lips before you turned around to see him.

 In the dimly lit room, Loki was rising from his seat, his face was illuminated by a holographic projection that was playing against the wall furthest from you, as he began taking quick strides towards you.

 Before you could even say anything, you felt his palms rest on both your cheeks as he pulled your face towards his own and greeted you with a hungry kiss.

 “If I might interject.” Loki’s voice filled the room and interrupted your kiss, as you pulled your lips away from his and glanced over his shoulder at the projection, which displayed footage of Loki.

 “What is that?” You asked him as your eyes bounced between his face and the projection.

 “Never mind that,” Loki shook his head dismissively and grasped your hands in his. “I can’t believe you’re here, you’re alive.” Loki once again gently grasped your face in one of his hand as he stroked his thumb against the apple of your cheek.

 “Thanks to you. You saved my life.” You smiled gratefully at him as you brought your own hand up to rest on the back of his but he retracted it just as you did and you pinched your brows together with confusion.

 “No thanks to me,” Loki corrected you as he shook his head and took a step back from you, “I am the reason you got hurt in the first place.”

 “Loki, it wasn’t your fault...”

 “It was. It was me. I am the one who shot at you.” Loki admitted and you remained silent as you let the information sink in.

 “Almighty Thanos... I, Loki, Prince of Asgard... Odinson... the rightful King of Jotunheim, God of Mischief do hereby pledge to you my undying fidelity.” The projection once again caught your attention.

 “Thanos...” Your eyes drifted back to Loki, “when is this from?” 

 “It... it’s...” Loki tried, but your focus shifted back to the projection as a deep voice filled the room through the speakers.

 “Undying? You should choose your words more carefully.” You realised the new voice belonged to Thanos, who was now displayed on the projection, his larger frame dwarfed Loki’s, proving just how intimidating he was. 

 Loki had his arm extended above his head as he clenched a dagger in his fist and held the tip to Thanos’ throat, but the mighty titan encircled Loki’s arm with his large hand, making it appear no larger than a twig, he twisted his arm and the dagger fell from his palm as he raised his other hand to Loki’s throat.

 Your face paled and stone cold horror surged through your thumping heart as Thanos began to lift Loki off the ground, causing his body to thrash around violently as he tried to struggle free from the deadly grasp.

 “He... he’s killing you.” Your voice trembled as you watched helplessly, you turned you face away when it became too difficult to keep watching, wishing you could also close your ears to the unsettling noises that filled the room.

 “You... will never be... a god.” Was the last thing you heard Loki say through the speakers before you almost jumped out of your skin at the sound of a door slamming shut with such force it overpowered the noises from the speakers.

 You turned around to find Mobius with his back to the doors, a curious smile played on his lips as his eyes shot back and forth between you and Loki. You instantly stepped back towards Loki and encircled your arms around his and pulled him closer to you, keeping him in an unyielding hold. 

 “So I’m assuming this is some sort of rescue mission slash prison escape?” Mobius casually spoke as he began to walk further into the room. 

 You and Loki shuffled back together, ensuring you maintained the same amount of distance from him as he moved around the sparsely furnished room. 

 “Something like that.” You mumbled with your chin held high in defiance but Mobius appeared unfazed as his eyes fell to Loki.

 “I’m afraid he won’t get very far wearing that.” The agent brought his finger up to point at his own neck in order to demonstrate that he was talking about the collar, which was secured around Loki’s neck, you raised an eyebrow and tilted your head curiously.

 “Then, I guess, it’s a good job I brought this with me, isn’t it?” You smiled, knowing you had the upper hand as you pulled the Doctors sonic screwdriver from your pocket and held it in front of you.

 Loki’s own lips lifted into a triumphant smirk once he realised what you had held in your hand. You pointed the blue glowing tip to the electronic latch of his collar, a low-pitched buzzing emitted from the sonic before you heard the latch click open and with a quick shake of his head, the collar easily slipped from Loki’s neck and landed on the floor at his feet.

 “Ah, shit.” Mobius sighed under his breath, with his gaze focused on the discarded collar.

 “This is nothing personal.” Loki told him as he raised his palm, Mobius hardly had time to react before green mist was shot in his direction, his legs gave way beneath him as he collapsed to the floor unconscious.

 “Is he dead?” You worried as you took a couple steps towards Mobius’ body.

 “No, he’s just sleeping.” Loki assured you as he conjured some rope out of a shimmering green light and he strode towards Mobius.

 “This will buy us some more time.” Loki told you as he pushed Mobius’ limp body on to his front and began tying his wrists together behind his back, before he tied his ankles together. 

 You watched wordlessly until Loki rose back to his feet then walked towards you, he clasped you by your shoulders and looked down at you intensely.

 “I have a plan.” He told you.

 “Loki, what was that projection?” You worried, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t wipe the horrific images from your mind.

 His eyes cast down and he stroked his hand up and down your upper arm to offer you comfort, “It’s a lot to explain, but right now we need to get out of here and I need you to do something for me.”

 “Anything.” You said without hesitation.

 ***

 “Oh my god...” Your hand shot to your throat, “why hasn’t my voice changed? I still sound like me.” 

 You were currently looking into a handheld mirror, which Loki had conjured for you, getting used to the fact that the face staring back at you wasn’t your own. You ran the tips of your fingers over the facial hair above your lip and gently pulled it between your forefinger and thumb. 

 Loki had transformed you into a double of Mobius, as a green shimmer ran down the length of his body and he changed from the prison jumpsuit into the same TVA uniform he had been wearing when you first met him in Pompeii.

 “I can’t change your voice, you will have to refrain from speaking to anyone. We just need to get out of here and back to the TARDIS. It should be easy enough.” Loki explained as he fixed the collar of his jacket before he crouched beside Mobius and riffled through his pockets until you heard the jingling of keys. Loki threw them over his shoulder at you and you managed to catch them as you cradled your hands together with your palms open and the keys landed right in the middle.

 “We will lock the door behind us,” Loki explained and you nodded as he approached you. 

 “I don’t deserve any of this after what I did to you...” He saw you open your mouth to cut him off so he rushed to continue, “when the elevator doors opened and I saw your face, I thought it was a figment of my imagination... When the TVA captured me, I wasn’t sure if I would ever see you again or if I would ever find out whether or not you made it out of New York alive. I have lived with the weight of my actions on my shoulders, ever since the mind stones influenced faded but I have never felt anything even close to how I felt when I saw your injuries and I knew I was the one responsible for them. I will do whatever it takes to gain your forgiveness.” 

 “Do you really think I would be here, looking like this,” you gestured to your form disguised as Mobius, “if I hadn’t already forgiven you? You weren’t fully in control of your actions on that day but you were fully in control when you saved my life, despite knowing that using your magic would attract the TVA’s attention, you put yourself at risk to save me and now I’m doing the same for you.” 

 A hint of a smile appeared at the corner of Loki’s lips before you took his hand in your own, “now let’s go before he wakes up and alerts everyone that you’ve escaped.”

 You let go of his hand just as your other reached for the handle of the door and you lead the way out with Loki following behind you. You acknowledged the two guards on either side of the door with a silent nod as you looked at the keys on the keyring and realised you didn’t know which one fit the lock on this door.

 You glanced at Loki for help, hoping your wide and confused eyes were enough to make him understand your predicament since you couldn’t use your voice. Loki subtly raised his finger to point at the key you needed and you quickly locked the door, before you made your way down the winding concrete hallway, towards the golden doors of the elevators.

 Your heart was already leaping out your chest after your blunder with the keys, but apart from a few nervous glances towards Loki, no one really paid the pair of you any attention and you were relieved to see that the plan was working.

 The familiar ding alerted you to the fact that the doors were about to slide open. When you saw a curly haired woman, dressed in a brown suit decorated with an orange sash, exiting the elevator, you stepped aside and offered her a polite smile, with the intention of letting her pass by, but she stopped in front of you and Loki and stared at the pair of you with suspicion. 

 The polite smile faded from your face, as your pulse once again began to quicken under her scrutinising gaze, you chanced a glance towards Loki in an attempt to gage how he was handling the situation, your inner panic spiked when you noticed the worry hidden in his eyes as they bounced between you and the woman stood before you.

 “Agent Mobius, where are you taking the Loki variant?” She questioned you. 

 You focused hard on trying to maintain a calm exterior while you were internally experiencing a meltdown as panic rose through your chest and your mind raced with the millions of possibilities for how this could go wrong, since there was no way you could answer her, you had no idea how to get yourself and Loki out of this situation.

 “I have decided join your little club and help protect the sacred timeline, Mobius and I are about to head out on a mission.” Loki answered for you and you sent him a grateful look, once the woman turned her attention to him.

 “Mobius, you know variants aren’t allowed out on missions without my clearance.” She crossed her arms over her chest and sent you a disapproving look.

 “You already gave me clearance.” Loki answered and the woman rolled her eyes before turning to him again.

 “That was the first time and you ended up running away with a genocidal Time Lord.” 

 “The Doctor?” A confused crease formed between Loki’s dark brows.

 “He destroyed the Time Lords.” She said, the tone she used made it seem as though her answer should’ve been obvious.

 “Well, if they were anything like you, I can’t say I blame him.” You had to bring your fingers to your lips to stifle your laughter.

 “Mobius!” You jumped at the sound of ‘your’ name and stood straight as you looked to the authoritative woman before you. “Wait for me in my office, while I return your variant to his cell.” 

 Your internal meltdown only worsened and you glanced at Loki again hoping he would offer you some sort of sign that he had a plan, his eyes were twitching back and forth as he stared at nothing in particular, you could practically see the cogs turning in his mind as he raced to come up with a plan. When the woman’s gaze flicked over to him, all evidence of his plotting was wiped from his face and his lips stretched into a sly smile.

 “Lead the way, Your Honour.” Loki hit the button to call the elevator, since it had already arrived earlier the doors slid open instantly. He held his hand out and offered the woman to enter the lift first, as she did Loki glanced at you and subtly nodded his head towards the corridor, directing you to follow that direction.

 Trusting that Loki knew what he was doing, you began to back away until you turned around and started walking down the corridor. You didn’t let the fact that Loki called her ‘Your Honour’ go unnoticed, you realised that was Loki’s subtle way of telling you who she was so you would be able to find her office. As you walked down the corridor you glanced at the engraved gold plaques above each door, until you stopped in front of one which read ‘Judge Ravonna Renslayer’ before you proceeded to enter.

 Inside, the office was dimly lit and lacked any windows, you realised that you hadn’t seen any windows throughout the entire building and it only added to the mysteriousness of the entire organisation. The walls were made off sculpted dark wooden panels and the floor was covered in an orange and brown carpet, similar to the one which decorated the corridors upstairs. 

 A single stained glass lamp, which stood on the large wooden desk in the centre of the room, was the only source of light. Behind the desk was a large, red leather chair and in front of it were two smaller brown leather seats. The surface of the desk was kept neat, a stack of files perfectly piled on top of one another sat in the centre, apart from those and the lamp there wasn’t much else on it. 

 On the far back wall, behind the desk, to the left and right there were two book shelves neatly filled with large leather bound books of various colours. Between the two book shelves, there was a wall, decorated with the wooden sculptures of three heads, you found them rather ghastly to look at so you diverted your eyes back to the surface of the desk as you lowered yourself into one of the seats in front of it and waited.

 The only sound that filled the room was the constant ticking of a clock as each second passed and you were beginning to find the repetitive sound irritating, your leg bounced up and down with nerves, as you hoped with all your strength that Loki knew what he was doing. You had no idea what you were going to do if Judge Ravonna Renslayer walked through that door and expected you to speak with her.

 You glanced over your shoulder when you heard the sound of the door click open, hoping you would be greeted by the sight of Loki, but your heart dropped and an array of colourful language raced through your mind when the Judge entered the room instead.

 “Agent Mobius.” She formally greeted you and you stood from your seat and offered her your hand to shake as a form of greeting, since speaking would blow your cover, although you doubted you would be able to last long without saying anything.

 The Judge just stared at your hand for a moment, with confusion behind her eyes, before she swatted it away and stepped closer to you almost making you jump when her arms slid around the back of your neck and she brought her face inches away from yours.

 “No need to be so formal when we’re in private, Moby.” Her breath fanned across your lips, as she whispered seductively and you could hardly control the way your eyebrows shot up to your hairline as you gulped, completely thrown off guard by the unexpected turn of events.

 Your mouth moved like a fish out of water and you didn’t know where to put your hands, but when she let out a snort of laughter and took a step back, you tilted your head with suspicion. A green shimmer illuminated the dull room and Loki was stood before you, still laughing to himself but at least now he was looking sheepish about it, as you glared at him with your arms crossed over your chest.

 “I’m sorry, that was cruel,” he held his hands up defensively, “but your face... or rather Mobius’” 

 “Now is not the time for games.” You scolded him as you swatted at his chest. 

 “There is always time for games.” Loki answered defensively and you affectionately rolled your eyes.

 “What did you do with her?” You asked, curious about how Loki safely escaped from the Judge.

 “Transformed her into me and put her in my cell before I shifted into her form.” Loki shrugged like it was nothing.

 “Will she look like you forever?” You worried.

 Loki shook his head. “Once we leave, my magic will leave her.”

 “Let’s get out of here.” You said and Loki shifted back into the Judges form as you made your way out of her office. 

 This time you successfully made it to the elevator and to the floor that you had left the TARDIS on without any interruptions. You lead Loki down the deserted corridor towards the maintenance closet, just as an alarm started blaring throughout the entire building.

 “Do you think that’s for us?” You looked at Loki with worry.

 “We’re not going to stick around long enough to find out.” Loki answered as he grabbed your hand and started running the rest of the way to the closet.

 “Stop them!” A guard dressed in black armour shouted as they burst through the double doors at the end of the corridor, leading a group of other guards behind them. 

 “I guess that answers your question.” Loki mumbled as the pair of you ducked when they began shooting their weapons at you, Loki moved to ensure that he was shielding you as he reached for the handle to the closet and ushered you through the door once he opened it.

 You pushed through the TARDIS doors, with Loki hot on your heel, relieved to be in the familiar control room but you still needed to get the TARDIS out of the closet before the TVA guards followed you inside.

 Without hesitation Loki was immediately at the control panel, figuring out how to pilot the ship, some sparks flew off the console when he flicked one of the switches and he ducked while you let out a yelp, before he stretched his arm out and reached for the leaver, the one the Doctor had told you was called the Time Rotor Handbrake, and the TARDIS began trembling as it dematerialised. 

 Loki and you both held on tight to the console to maintain your balance, before the tremors subsided and you both let out sighs of relief, knowing you were finally safe.

 Loki and you shared a glance and with a flick of his wrist you both transformed back into yourselves before you fell into each other’s arms. You snuggled the tip of your nose into his neck and he planted a gentle kiss on the side of you head.

 “I’m never letting you go again.” Your voice was muffled as you spoke.

 “I’m not going anywhere.” Loki promised.

#loki #loki (marvel) #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki imagine #doctor who #tenth doctor #donna noble #tom hiddleston

[squeeneyart]

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 23

AO3

Beta reader as always is @thesnadger!

It's harder to say it out loud.

Jon and Martin catch up.

As the seconds ticked by and Martin failed to respond, Jon adjusted a small bag slung across his shoulder. “It’s um- I understand this might come as a shock. I hadn’t meant for my entrance to be so dramatic, but this place seems to insist on a particular atmosphere.”

Martin heard the words as they slipped past on the wind, the skin drawing his full attention. It wasn’t like his mother’s, dusty and worn and so very old. No, this seemed to shine in the rain and seawater, but his chest constricted at the sight of it.

Despite Jon’s efforts to conceal it, a shiver ran through his shoulders. 

“Right, sorry,” Martin croaked out, then coughed until his throat behaved itself. He found his hand still gripping the door knob and gave it a twist. “Sorry. Yeah, come on in.”

Jon’s stiff shoulders dropped, and with some eagerness he walked up the stairs to escape the rain. “Sor- Thank you. It’s not the best night to be out dressed like this.”

He wasn’t wrong. Warm light poured out from the doorway onto the front porch, illuminating Jon in his soaked-through fleece jumper and jeans, a far cry from the waterproof seal coat in his arms. It was no wonder that Jon was quick to enter the house and leave the damp, cold night behind. With one last look outward, Martin dipped inside and shut the door behind him. 

Jon seemed uncertain where to go next and stood next to the coat hooks, leaning from one foot to the other. 

“Do you want to...um, put it down? You can hang it up in the shower if it’s still wet,” Martin said, placing his own coat on a hook as casually as he could manage. “I don’t know if hooks would be, um, good for it?”

With a nervous glance downwards, Jon nodded and slipped his shoes off. “Right. That makes sense. I guess it is dripping everywhere.” Yet he continued to stand on the front rug.

Ah, right. “If you don’t want to lose sight of it, that’s-”

“It’s not- I’ll go hang it up now. Is it down the-”

“Second door on the right.”

“Right.” And Jon stalked down the hall into the toilet and closed the door, leaving Martin by the front entrance.

Martin wasn’t going to scream and freak Jon out right off the bat. Not that Jon worked too hard to give him the same courtesy.

Jon was a-

Shit. Martin pressed a shoulder against the wall and forced himself to breathe. It was fine. It made sense, right? Jon’s interest in selkies was bound to come from somewhere. He was knowledgeable in a way that would’ve required access to a selkie directly, and finding one couldn’t have been easy. 

There was a twisting in his upper chest, but he heard the door down the hall open and straightened himself out. Jon came out in a plain t-shirt and different trousers, evidently leaving his other clothes to dry. 

He rubbed his upper arms. “An explanation is probably necessary.”

Martin took a good look at him, all skinny limbs and uncertain glances. Bags much deeper than before dragged down under his eyes and without the extra layers hiding him away it was even harder for Jon to hide how much he was shivering.

“You-” Martin pushed up his glasses and rubbed his eyes. There was no helping it. He walked to the living room and motioned for Jon to follow. “I’ll make some tea.”

In spite of himself, Martin found it in him to fuss. He ushered Jon onto the couch and pulled the old blanket down from where it lay over the top just so it fell behind Jon, resisting the urge to pull it snug. At first Jon lifted a hand to wave him off, but as he sank further into the seat he let out a weary sigh and leaned forward onto his knees.

“Thanks.”

“Mhm. Be right back.”

Martin strode toward the kitchen in a way that he hoped didn’t look like bolting and escaped Jon’s line of sight.

A kettle. There was a kettle on the countertop. It was… technically not washed, not for a few days. Good. That gave him some time. He got to work, scrubbing at it much longer than necessary to settle his thoughts. As if there would ever be enough time for that.

So. Jon was on his couch after revealing himself to be one of the sea folk, looking cold and tired and very uncomfortable with the circumstances. That was all he had to work with, that and the cheap tea bags he tossed onto the countertop. 

He’d gotten groceries for two. That would be the polite thing, to offer food. 

If Jon intended to stay for more than an evening. This might be one rest stop on the path to elsewhere, land or sea. He certainly wasn’t packed for an overnight stay with that tiny bag he’d apparently managed to fit with him inside his coat, a train of thought Martin had no desire to follow. Maybe he’d even eaten… on the way? Hm, no, that wasn’t a great place, either. Whatever, he might not be looking for much more than a place to sit a while.

And then the tea was ready and poured out into two mugs, one with a pastoral scene of some sheep and the other a faded logo of a long-gone tackle shop. He’d run out of time.

The two mugs lent warmth to his hands as he walked back to the living room, catching himself before he tripped on his own feet. On the other side of the room, Jon had chosen to bundle himself up at one end of the couch, legs and all tucked into the blanket. It was all Martin could do to offer him the sheep mug without making eye contact and pray that the lamp light was too dim to reveal the red across his face.

Thankfully Jon didn’t seem to notice Martin’s awkward demeanor as he slipped his hands from under the blanket to curl his fingers around the mug. “Thank you, again. I’m sure you have questions.”

He would, wouldn’t he? He had several a moment ago, but unfortunately with all the heat emanating from his ears it seemed every question had risen right out of his head. Instead Martin sat on the other end of the couch. “You’d know better about where to start.”

From under the blanket Jon squared his shoulders. “Right. I don’t think there’s much to explain on this first point. I’m a selkie, or sea folk as you once said. I hope it explains the intensity of my… concern, regarding your mother.”

Martin squirmed a little. Jon's anger at the possibility of Martin holding one hostage took on a much more personal bent in hindsight. It must’ve been like a horror movie to find the skin there. “Yeah, I got that part.”

“As for my showing up here today, I…” Struggling somewhat with words, Jon took a sip of tea and gave a small noise of approval. “Okay, from the beginning. The day I’d finally finished with all of the extra work piled onto me, I’d settled on digging further into Elias’ connection with the Lukases. Possible overlap in goals, reasons for why the three of us were sent to this town, etcetera.”

He continued. “There wasn’t much. If I had to guess, it’s all largely in financial records that I have no access to, but I’d hoped that other strange happenings connected to the Lukases would explain something.”

“But they didn’t,” Martin said.

Sighing, Jon said, “No. So I changed direction and focused on Elias’ goals. If it wasn’t the lighthouse he wanted us to look at, then there were two options: either he just sent us out there to look at nothing, or he thought we would find something else of interest. Or that I might find something I’d been looking for.”

Martin’s heart could’ve stopped. “You don’t think-”

“He of course knew of my research into selkies. It’s the main reason I was eager for this position, all the resources he offered. I kept my more… personal motivation quiet, of course, stuck to how it was ‘underrepresented in our field’, which is entirely true and I could- anyway, I thought I was careful.” Quickly, he turned toward Martin as if he’d realized something. “And I was, with regards to you and your mother. I promise I never said anything about what I found. That secret isn’t going anywhere.” He rested the mug in his lap, tapping his fingertips on the white ceramic.

“But?”

“It appears I wasn’t doing a good enough job hiding myself. He always knew.” His mouth set into a grim line. “When we first got back I thought something was off about my flat, but the workload had gotten so high and there was so much to think about that I brushed it off.”

He gripped his knee through the blanket as it bounced with agitation. “I know someone came into my flat while I was gone. I know this because the day after your incident with Simon Fairchild it happened again, and this time he was sloppy.” 

A tremor had crept into Jon’s voice, just enough to be heard, though it wasn’t for the cold or for fear exactly. Anger? Irritation? 

“I was sent to check on something outside the city, not far but enough that I was able to get reimbursement for a night’s stay. It wasn’t the first time I’d been sent off without warning, obviously-” Jon motioned in the general direction of the town. “-but something was wrong. I could feel it, just like I could feel that someone had been in my flat.” At this point Jon stopped and leaned over to rub at his forehead, his shoulders rising and falling with long, deep breaths.

“Jon?” Martin said. He lifted his hand and then placed it on the back of the couch.

The tired man shook his head, “I’m fine. Just let me finish.”

“So I went back late that night. Didn’t tell anyone, didn’t cancel my hotel. And when I entered my flat, what did I see but a figure in the dark rifling through my things. A familiar one at that.” A sardonic edge snuck into his voice. “Never expected Elias to be the type to get his hands dirty in a work sense, let alone an illegal one.”

“There was a struggle. I rushed at him without thinking, and when pressed he eventually admitted to knowing what I was. I knew what he was looking for then, didn’t really need to ask, and so I… ran.”

Martin’s hand twitched, but he kept it in place. “That sounds… awful. I’m sorry.”

With a shaky inhale, Jon said, “I-I ended up staying with an old friend of mine for a few days, outside of town. When I initially got the job she’d agreed to keep my, um… my skin, while I was in the city. So Elias was never going to find it by looting around my things, on either attempt.” He smiled, eyes empty and humorless. “Paranoia pays off sometimes.”

“Sounds like you have a good friend, then,” Martin said, looking down at his barely-touched tea. “Why’d you leave?”

“Because three people and a cat take up a lot of space in a one-bedroom?” Jon replied with a small but genuine laugh. “My friend, Georgie, she lives with her girlfriend. Her girlfriend and I don’t get on at the best of times, and cohabitation while I’m a terrified mess is not the best of times. The cat didn’t seem to mind, though.”

“I figured the next safest place would be in the water, while traveling at least. I couldn’t take much with me, but I wouldn’t need much either. My main goal was to just stay hidden as best as I could.” He looked back at Martin sheepishly. “Which I hope is a good enough reason for my number being unavailable.”

Martin nearly dropped his tea. “What?”

“What?” Jon frowned, brows knit together in confusion. “Oh. Um, yes, I deactivated my account. Maybe a bit more precaution than necessary, but at that point I was too nervous to take any risks. Tossed my mobile as well.” 

A horrid wave of guilt hit Martin right in the stomach. The number wasn’t reachable, which he’d have known if he’d just called. Stupid, of course Jon had a reason for not calling. How much more of an ass could he be, assuming things when Jon had his own worries to deal with? Not everything had to be about himself and his problems.

“Makes sense,” he said, hiding his own unhappy mouth behind the mug. 

“Anyway, I left the land for… an amount of time. It was hard to keep track. And it’s still the wilderness, so it wasn’t safe. Eventually I decided being stuck surrounded by wild animals wasn’t going to help me and figured this was the best place to go next.” He leaned back. “I couldn’t exactly see Tim or Sasha for updates, though they know to pretend to trust Elias for now, thanks to Georgie. Once I see them in-person, it’ll be safer to explain why I’d disappeared on them.”

And in the meantime pretend that Jon was off to the side, too busy to bother with a group text. He might as well have been asleep the whole time with how obvious it all was. And there he’d been writing Jon off without evidence instead of feeling concern. Horrid.

Jon took a deep breath. Some of the tension slipped away from his forehead, smoothing the creases into faint lines. 

“Had a harder time than expected finding this place considering the lighthouse looming over everything. I think I got turned around after losing sight of the coast and the fog certainly didn’t help. But things cleared up enough, and now I’m here.”

Martin withdrew his arm from atop the couch and leaned away into the arm rest. “And now you’re here.”

There in the present, they sat on their respective sides of the couch. Jon settled further back into the cushion, pressing both hands to his mug of tea and enjoying the warmth it brought to his skinny fingers. 

The man needed to sleep. It was clear in his struggling eyes, his voice, his shoulders obscured by the blanket’s folds. How long had he been at it, swimming mile after mile until he found his way here? How much further was he planning to go?

“Are you okay?” 

Martin started, ripping his eyes from Jon’s face. “Fine, yeah. Just, just taking it all in I guess.”

Jon rubbed the back of his neck. “I know it’s a lot. If you wouldn’t mind, though, I wanted to ask if anything else happened here since I left.”

Martin replied, “Not much. I delivered the letter for Simon a few weeks ago. Peter has been spotty ever since and has been on a boating trip for a few days.”

“The only way to avoid Fairchild, maybe. Until he goes out on his own yacht. Or flies there.”

Martin snorted and took another sip of tea. 

“And nothing else has changed?”

In the grand scheme of things? “No. Not really.”

“Good. I’d worried about getting here- well-”

“Too late?” Martin said with a rougher edge than he’d intended, and he saw Jon flich. Quickly, he continued, “I’m fine. If anything you didn’t have to deal with weeks full of nothing like Tim and Sasha.”

It was Jon’s turn to snort. “That would’ve been preferable, I think. Being so out of the loop, not knowing what to expect when I managed to get back. It wasn’t pleasant.”

“So, what now?”

Jon chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I’m not entirely sure. There isn’t anywhere else for me to go now. But since you asked, there was something I’d been considering.”

Twisting in place, he faced Martin directly with a nervous expression. “Truth be told, I don’t know anyone else like me, not personally. The sea might as well be the woods or the mountains for all I know on how to navigate them. If anyone was going to be able to help me with my particular situation, I figured it would be-”

“My mum.” The words came out throttled. 

The room shifted, the sides of his vision blurred until all he could see was the dead television. If he stared at that point long enough, he could almost see the burnt-in images of something he’d left on pause for too long.

From beside him, he heard the rustling of the blanket.

“I- yes, th-though if that’s too much trouble I understand. I would never want to make you or your mother’s lives harder by getting her involved with me. I know I’m a liability to her safety just coming here, but I’d at least wish to speak with her, ask if there’s anywhere or anyone she knows that could help if she herself is unwilling. She’s already asleep I assume, so I could wait until tomorrow-”

“She’s gone.”

His words cut through the air with a swiftness, the quiet settling in so deeply that he could almost hear tv static as his mind tried to fill the gap. With nothing to be heard and his vision so caught by the television, Jon might as well have vanished into thin air.

But he hadn’t. With something between wariness and disbelief, Jon muttered, “...Gone.” 

“Four days ago.” Martin blinked away the tunnel, looking down at his own hands. “Took her skin and nothing else.”

“That’s… Did she say when she might come back?” 

Without answering, Martin stood up and walked to the kitchen. When faced with Jon’s protestations he placed a hand up, signalling for the man to wait, and from the kitchen table plucked the unmoved note. Then, wordlessly, he handed it over to Jon and sat on his own end of the couch. 

The note was short enough. “...That’s it?”

“Yeah. Sorry I can’t be of more help.”

“That’s- you don’t need to apologize to me. I imagine it’s been difficult.” A pause as Jon set the note on the side table, and then, “You did the right thing.”

Something pushed upwards in Martin’s throat, something bitter and harsh and awful, but he clenched his teeth and kept his tone even. “It’s for the best.”

“If there’s any… If you have any questions, I’ll do what I can to answer them.” As Jon spoke he was plainly starting to regret it. “But I suppose you would know her better.”

Martin frowned and said nothing.

“Right… right. Family business.” Jon drained the rest of his mug and then dragged his fingers down one cheek. “If you’re all right with it, I’d like to spend the night here and figure things out tomorrow, when I’m feeling more myself. I’ve sorely missed sleeping somewhere dry and horizontal.”

“You really slept that way with your face sticking out?” The image of a little seal head popping up out of the water fast asleep came to mind, a welcome distraction. He let himself smile a little and leaned a cheek into his knuckles. “You seem a bit drift-y, yeah.”

“I hope that’s not meant to be a pun. And sleeping in the water is difficult,” Jon replied, deadpan. “So I have permission to co-opt your couch?”

“Knock yourself out. I need to get to bed, anyway.” He pushed himself back up off the couch and grabbed both mugs. As he walked back to the kitchen, he looked back at Jon. “... She left her medication here. Does that mean anything?”

Jon shook his head. “She’ll be fine. She won’t need them unless she returns to a human form, according to my own, er, experimentation.” 

Martin nodded and waved goodnight with one of his full hands, making his way back into the kitchen one final time to place the mugs in the sink. Every motion reminded him that he too was tired, so tired, so they would be washed another time along with the plate of whatever it was he’d made for himself. Had he offered Jon something to eat? No, but the man was capable of asking for things.

One thing had been helpful. He looked at the half-empty pill bottles that sat undisturbed on the counter and with one swift motion tossed them into the bin.

#tma #the magnus archives #breathe in the salt #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #sasha james #timothy stoker #peter lukas #jonmartin