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blakescoven · 5 years

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Undress Rehearsal (Duncan Shepherd x fem!Reader)

Summary: You got a fashion degree and moved to DC to work as stylist assistant. Unexpectedly you meet a familiar face during a meeting and it seems there’s a spark between you two...but things may take a wrong turn.

A/N: Hey lovelies!! This is my first fic EVER, so be nice! Also, forgive any grammar mistake (English isn’t my first language). Since the ending is kinda open, I guess I could write a PART 2. I’m so happy to finally be able to post this one-shot, even though it sucks! I’d appreciate every comment/reblog/DM about it and about how I could actually improve my writing. This is a sort of experiment! I’m still trying to figure out “my style”. Oh and this is important: bold type means flashback, italics are Y/N’s thoughts and // means a few days passed! ENJOY and thank you for reading! I love you.

Warnings: mean!Duncan (just a little), making out and veeery light NSFW, plot!twist, lol I think that’s enough(?)

Word count: 6.1K

moodboard by the talented @hecohansen31

You were late again. It happened twice this week. But how could that happen? You had always been a punctual and reliable person, at night you ensured that the alarm was correctly set and you never went to bed too late, afraid to not being able to wake up the morning after. So how could it be possible? Maybe because of your jetlag, but after almost a month, well, this had become a really bad excuse. Then perhaps, the frenetic pace was already affecting you that much, making you too tired to hurry up and get ready. This couldn’t happen again; you were jeopardizing your new dream job because of this straggler behavior. While you were running along the streets of Washington DC, those were your recurring thoughts. Your wheezing and the speeded-up heartbeats, pounding in your hears, were drowning out any deafening noise coming from cars and traffic, which always filled the city driveways.

From the early hours of the day, the avenues were swarming with people going to their office, each of them withdrawn into oneself, busy minding their own business with their smartphones, bringing takeaway breakfast on the other hand. You were way too anxious and distracted from running breathlessly; you had already bumped into three stupid human beings, slowly strolling down the sidewalk like damn sloths. Every single step was followed by a quick glance at your cellphone screen, checking the time and ensuring there was no missed call of your boss.

If you knew anything in this world, it was that you had to take this job seriously, dealing with the fact that your exhausting dues would have allowed your eager ass to work your way up and finally become a fashion designer. So, you didn’t expect any great satisfaction to come very soon. And starting from the bottom was really tough. After years of studying and a well-deserved university degree, you were prepared for whatever the future might have brought. Despite that, you didn’t expect at all to end up in DC, working as a stylist assistant. Sure, this would have opened the door to your real dream job, be part of the style department, designing collections for a luxury brand. You had tried your luck moving to New York, but you ended up broke, with no savings left and no available job opening. For this reason, you decided to take that chance here. You hadn’t made any progress till now though. You were new, yes, but your tasks and assignments were hardly restricted to bring coffee or running around the Capital with tons of garment bags for upcoming fittings.

Finally, after that insane 3km rush, without even stopping for a second - no, you couldn’t afford an Uber ride every time -, you arrived. Your feet hurt like hell, your cheeks covered with scarlet shades like the worst of sunburns and your breath coming in short gasps…and your hair, oh dear Lord, it was a mess. You were sure you were also sweating. Luckily, Richard, your boss, was quite nice to you and somewhat tolerant; he was sincerely impressed by all your efforts, skills and abilities, so much that he wasn’t utterly certain what you were doing there.

Five minutes past the established hour and, thank God, the client hadn’t arrived yet. You didn’t have much information or details about that meeting. You only knew that you had to help during a fitting for a client, extremely influential on the political scene. He needed a few new looks and outfits for public appearances, interviews, and fundraising events. Of course, you assumed he would have been an old middle-aged white man, with too much money to count and eager for power.

Mr moneybags is getting late tho. Too busy making grands? you thought.

Meanwhile, you were trying to look more presentable, also to not risk damaging the brand reputation.

“Y/N?”

Your calves burned and, in that moment, you thought that bringing extra sneakers would have been a good idea.

“Y/N?!”

Since the client hadn’t arrived yet, maybe you could sit down and rest for a minute on that super comfy booth near the mirror…

“Y/N!!!! HELLOO!!!” Your train of thoughts was abruptly interrupted by your boss’ yells, which suddenly caught your attention.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry, I zoned out! Forgive me, what can I do for you?”

The man, a healthy and elegant 40ish brunette, looked at you concerned “Y/N I know it’s hard to settle down, but I need you to be 100% focused today. The man who’s coming is a big deal for us, he’s a powerful figure in Washington politics! He has recently taken her mother’s place as CEO of the family company. So, I want us to make a good impression!” after saying that, he looked at you from head to toe, a bit baffled.

“So…” he continued “…I need you to – in that moment you really hoped you were about to receive a major task, finally a turning point – ..to run to the bar across the street and buy some coffee, and come back quickly!” All your expectations fell apart in a sea of disappointment. “Hurry up!”

You put on a forced smile and went straight to the exit.

After having waited in line for centuries, you figured that probably the client had to have arrived, and therefore, just as you had started your day, you came back running as fast as you could, to save time.

You were holding the coffee cups in your left hand, while you were struggling to turn off your phone, which had started ringing. Opening the glass door with your hip, you were still trying to silence the ringtone, this, without even minding where put your feet up. Ugh, mom, stop calling me...always the worst timing! you screamed in your own mind, frowning. Before you could slow down your steps, one of your heels didn’t grip well the lacquered floor, making you stumble and trip. A sudden change in your balance and you couldn’t avoid slipping forward, causing the not-so-angelic flying of coffee directly on the special guest of the situation.

Damn it.

And to make matters worse, you fell to the ground, cursing the day you were born. Hell no, it can’t have really happened to me. You had just made a complete ass of yourself. You would have rather sink below the waves into the oblivion.

“OH SHIT SHIT SHIT I-I’m so sorry! I-I don’t know h-how it happened!” you were apologizing, still keeping your eyes fixed on the once-full cups rolling down the parquet, next to your badly chipped mobile touchscreen.

“The floor must be slippery…please let me make it up to you, I ca- ” you stopped all of a sudden when you lifted your gaze, for the first time since you had stepped in. Standing in front of you there was the most attractive man you’d ever seen. His piercing blue eyes were fixed on you, like two burning flames almost forming deep holes in your soul.

It’s hot in here or it’s just me?

He was tall and his toned arms were easily visible through the once-white shirt. Now that expensive fashion piece was all covered by a huge stain of hot coffee. And it was your fault. You were speechless. Your attention all focused on the man’s features. Your gaze was busy running down those perfect shaped cheekbones and the sharp jawline. Oh boy, gods’ gift indeed.

Oddly familiar to you though.

You clearly remained to stare for too long to not be noticed, because the man himself broke the silence.

“Uhm, don’t worry” he seemed taken aback for a second “I’ll send it to the cleaners or I’ll throw it away, I don’t care” he said, immediately composing himself, while carefully unbuttoning the ruined shirt, with those long fingers... You were blushing. His low soothing voice sent shivers down your spine. But his tone was plain, no apparent emotion, he seemed almost indifferent, maybe even a little annoyed. Ah, pompous ass.

Your attention was caught by your boss, who, with a worried voice, while pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed, proposed him to choose another shirt among the others and take it as an apology gift. The man accepted, nodding with a crooked smile and with smug remarks about the needlessness of gifts for a man as rich as him.

Cocky asshole! You mused, with a roll of her eyes.

Anxious to change the subject, Richard, started the introductions. “Mr Shepherd, she is my smart – but clearly clumsy – assistant, Y/N” at that very moment that name awoke the memories in your mind.

No. It can’t be true.

“Well, nice to meet you” he remarked “Y/N”, repeating your name like he was tasting it on his own tongue “..or so.” he added, with a stupid smug grin on his breathtaking face. When they shook hands, you felt a sort of jolt and realized you had been holding your breath all this time. You remained silent.

That was the same man you met 6 months ago on the flight you took to go to New York, when you moved for the first time. It was him the influential man of the meeting.

Duncan-fucking-Shepherd.

Duncan. This name was the only thing in your mind right now, while you were lying on the couch, in your little apartment, with a glass of wine loosely resting on your lower lip. Oh my God, did he recognize me? Did he figure out it was me? How had he called me that day? Oh, his angel, right. Fuck.

Your head hurt, but you couldn’t help but keep on repeat your two first meetings again and again in your mind. The Duncan Shepherd from today was completely different, compared to the man you had encountered on that plane.

He hadn’t talked about himself very much, just spilled that he was a businessman traveling for work. You had immediately noticed how mature he was to be in his late 20ish. And incredibly handsome. And charming. And seductive.

Ok, stop.

You still couldn’t understand why you. Among all the attractive available women he could easily have, during all the time of the flight, he had been flirting with you. You. He made you feel sexy, desirable and safe, after a very long time.

It was the first class. You were there because of a lucky misunderstanding. While the plane was taking off, you two had a moment, since he saw you panicking. You had started talking for real only two hours after having left Milan. The conversation started casually, then developed into a flirty game. Little did you knew that a few hours later, you would eventually find yourselves making out so much intensely, whilst the rest of the passengers was sleeping with lights off. This wasn’t like you; you were strangers after all. Damn, you only knew his first name. But you couldn’t help your crazy attraction towards him. A sort of electricity, a particular connection that you had never felt with anybody else in your life.

You were staring off into space, completely lost in your inner thoughts, while biting hard your lip and fidgeting with the hem of your oversize t-shirt. You nervously swallowed and closed your eyes. Your hand began to move from the fabric and wander over your bare legs, brushing them with your fingertips. Throwing back your head and swallowing again, you frowned and sighed. You couldn’t make those thoughts disappear. He got under your skin and no matter what you did, you couldn’t shake him.

His soft lips on yours, hot and peachy, the trailing of his wet open-mouthed kisses along your throat and the series of marks he was leaving on your skin, on the way down your collarbone. Feeling the smile of the other against your lips as you two kissed. The best feeling in the world. His small moans when you had pulled his lower lips between your teeth, while his hands were touching and roaming all over your body, as if he wanted to memorize each spot, each curve, each part of you. “Baby I wish it was just the two of us right now, damn, I want you so badly” he whispered. God, if they had been alone, you’d have gone further for sure. You were both turned on, you could tell, especially from the prominent bulge on his designer pants. All you wanted was to climb on top of him, straddling his hips, panting in his hear and feel his hot breath all over you. Intense was the craving to undress him, feel his skin against yours. Shit, it was like a living a dream.

The meeting had been canceled and rescheduled for tomorrow. The situation was quite unpleasant. What you were supposed to do now?

Judgment Day had come. You hadn’t slept at all, all night spent tossing and turning between the sheets and looking at the ceiling. How were you supposed to act now? Should you have mentioned anything? What was really killing you, was the feeling that ‘your moment’ had meant nothing for him. Yes, after 6 months, you had gone over it, also because you had no idea how to contact him. But after seeing him again, all the buried thrills came rushing back. You absolutely needed to test the waters today. What did you have to lose? Well, your dignity maybe. If he wanted to, Duncan could have easily said something. And of course, a man of his status could have anything, or anybody, he wanted. Maybe you were overthinking, maybe not.

Since it was almost dawn, and the sun was peeking through the blinds, creating a delicate play of lights and shadows on the curtains, you decided you could actually distract yourself choosing what to wear for the meeting. You shouldn’t have done it. Your bedroom had become a battlefield, all your clothes scattered all over it, like some lifeless leftovers of the closet, now empty. Almost like a little bomb went off. You kept trying combinations on combinations, each time taking off the pieces and throwing them away anywhere around you, as if you were on the verge of a breakdown. It was still a business meeting; you couldn’t dress up too revealing or doll up too much. But at the same time, you’d never give up on being yourself and express your personality through what you wore. Respecting yourself was the most important thing. Self-love. However, this didn’t solve the problem at all. You wanted to appear at your best, challenge him, in a subtle way.

On your way to the office, an unexpected call tuned you away from your own thoughts.

“Richard! Good morning! Are you calling me for coffee? Because I’ve already stopped off at the bar, now tell me who is the best assistant in the whole world?! And I’m not even late!” your smile vanished as soon as your boss answered.

“WHAT?! What does it mean you won’t be there today?” Your heart skipped a beat and started pumping so much blood through your veins, that you felt as a heatwave was rushing inside of you. “W-well if you have family issues, we agree that it’s necessary to postpone the gathering..I-” your eyes widened at the realization that you’d be alone. With Duncan.

You almost fainted on the spot.

“I’m sure you can handle it on your own! You can still reach me with a phone call, if you ever need me. Plus, don’t you think this would be the right chance to prove yourself and finally level up, get noticed and considered for that vacant position in the style & design dep.? My money’s on you, girl!”

How could you blame him, though? He was always so encouraging.

You sighed through the phone, so he added “Look, it won’t be hard. Remember that Mr Shepherd is in your hands. We have to turn him into one of the brand advocates; he’s young, a self-made man, the best choice to promote the brand awareness. It’s up to you now.”

Wow, that’s very reassuring you figured, shaking your head.

“Ok, you can do this, I have to go now, let me know how it goes. Bye!” Fuck.

“W-wait! I can’t do that withou-” he has already hung up. Looking up to the sky and letting out a frustrating grunt, you allowed yourself a childish whine and mumbled a ‘why me’.

Now you were standing outside the building, trying to collect yourself before entering. You were wearing an oversized see-through blouse, tucked in a black knee-length skirt, and an *accent color* blazer with rolled-up sleeves, to complete the look. You were ready to fight. No more clumsy bullshit.

Breathe, remember to breathe you reminded yourself, looking at the elevator door.

You strode next to the receptionist’s desk, Tiffany, or, as you liked to call her, ‘Crazypants’; since her eyes were always so disturbingly wide open – Does she ever blink? – and her hair painfully pinned back, so tight that must have hurt her. She seemed a cross between a barbie and a psycho killer. As soon as you walked by her desk, Crazypants greeted you overly excited, calling you with her earsplitting high-pitched voice. You put on your fakest smile and replied,

“Morning Tiff, uhm, I wish I could stay and chat, but I have work to-”

“The client is already here. He’s waiting for you in the fitting room” she winked. Hell, you hoped your blushing wasn’t so obvious, you couldn’t even have a few minutes to be psychologically prepared. Well, maybe better pull off the band-aid.

“Thank you for warning me! I’ll be right there” you answered. Not even before your exams you felt all this pressure.

Why is it always so hot?!

Walking along the hallway as if you were going to your own execution, you found yourself in front of the door of the rehearsal room. You gently opened it and entered. Do you know when, at some point in movies, there’s a slow-motion moment with background music?! There it was. Precisely. He had his back turned, gazing the skyline through the glass wall. And the second he heard the clicking of a pair of heels, he turned his head, smiling at you and looking intensely at your figure. You were about to die for real now.

How could someone be so beautiful?

His hair perfectly styled, his hot stubble,... Oh, that stubble was your weakness. You could already feel it between your legs and…

“Hey hey, easy with that” he teased with his deep honeyed voice, pointing the take-out coffee cups you were holding. You winced and giggled

“I’ll never stop apologizing about that, ehm, incident…but if you want one, go ahead!”

You looked at each other smiling for a while, until you had to break the silence and eventually get down to business. “So, I guess it’s better if we start…Mr Shepherd, so then you’ll be free to go back to work”, he exhaled and nodded

“Oh please, just call me Duncan.”

You saw a sort of shift in his features. His face went blank. He adopted a bossier and intimidating position, like last time. Ok, maybe he just wants to keep it professional, I understand.

“When is Richard coming?” he questioned while taking his trench coat off. “To be honest, it’ll just be me today, but it’s all right, you’re in good hands” you slightly smiled. He sighed again and you rose your eyebrow, taking it as an unspoken insult.

“Is there a problem?”

“Well, yes, I didn’t come here to waste my time with a newbie assistant.” Your jaw dropped.

“Excuse me?”

“No need to get upset darling, this is what you are, after all” he stated shrugging. You were speechless; yes, you were an assistant, but the way he said that, as if you were a dumb zero…What an asshole.

“Oookay, since I’m here..let’s continue” he glanced at you, waiting for her next move. “I agree, you can change in the wa-” you paused; he was literally undressing in front of you.

“What? There’s nothing you’ve never seen...I guess” You were confused…was he teasing you or something? “You should be more professional, I’m saying it for you”, your rage slowly increasing and flowing throughout your entire body. He was a completely different man, with all those unnecessary mean remarks. He gave you mixed feelings. You would have punched him, but at the same time, contemplating his perfectly-shaped heavenly body, his toned muscles, his thighs..you wanted to jump on him, kiss him and be his, in every way possible.

“You’re staring.”

“W-what?! No. I’m waiting for you to finish undressing, so I can give you the first change to wear..”

“Sure.”

You’d already had enough of his attitude. “I suggest starting with this evening suit, since Richard told me you’ll attend a charity gala in a few days.”

“Hush, please, save it. I don’t need all your pointless suggestions. I can handle it by myself.” he seemed almost..angry? You didn’t know how to hit back anymore. Why was he acting like that, all of a sudden? He tried on a few different outfits while you were staying there, silent, shifting your weight from a leg to another, your eyes wandering through the room, your lips pressed into a thin line and your mind trying to figure out what was happening. Duncan, noticing the tapping of your fingers on your thigh, rolled his eyes and gave you an annoyed look.

Then he huffed “Impatient, uh?”

You were hovering on the brink of an outburst.

“Why don’t you do your job and bring me some water, or take notes, or whatever you get paid for?”

“My job is helping you find a set of appropriate clothes for various occasions, trying to create the right mix & match that suits your taste and personality...” you retorted in a plain tone.

“Oh, thanks for the not required explanation, Wikipedia..”

“..but I’m not stupid, I know what a fucking stylist does” he was pushing your buttons.

“If you’d allow me to do my job, instead of questioning me, I could recommend something..”

“No need to whine, baby girl…So do it, instead of staying there like a scared little girl.”

“If relying on someone to select your wardrobe really bothers you..why don’t you choose them by yourself?” you sassed, struggling to remain polite.

“Well, I’ve demanded the help of a professional, not that of a ‘coffee-bringer’…and I’m wasting my time here”.

Ok, that’s enough.

He was still a client, but for you being treated like that wasn’t acceptable anymore. “You know what? I don’t fucking care if I get fired after saying these words. But I’m done with your dumbass comments. You’re a douchebag. I’m trying to do my job and, just because you’re rich and influential, you think you can treat me like that. Like I’m trash?” you were finally giving in to an outburst “The saddest thing is that I really hoped you would remember me. About that moment we shared 6 months ago, on that flight to New York. But obviously, I’ve given it much thought. Turns out that I’m just one of many, aren’t I? I’ve been thinking about you for weeks and when I saw you again, it all came flooding back. I’m so stupid. It’s not your fault, I was wrong to think that day could have really meant something.”

While talking, you were struggling to hold back the tears, you weren’t supposed to look pathetic, but your eyes were already watering. “So, do me a favor: end this meeting now. I’ll call Richard and tell him to take care of you, since you do not believe I’m capable enough to fulfill your needs..”

“..oh and don’t worry about seeing me again, I don’t want anything to do with you! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.” you spat, entering the small wardrobe room, without bothering to switch on the light, hoping that your angry tears would have remained unnoticed in the darkness and that Duncan would have gone for good. So you started moving crutches on the clothes stand, to make room for those outfits to restock over.

Unexpectedly you felt an arm around your waist, holding you tightly. It was Duncan. He hadn’t left.

His body pressed against yours, you were paralyzed, his arms keeping a firm grip on you. What’s happening? You knew you should have pushed him back and kick him out, but something inside you decided against it. It was like a part of your dumb heart wanted to stay still in that position forever. You two remained silent, until he whispered in your hear, with his hot breath and his cologne filling your nostrils - a mixture of cinnamon, sandalwood and tobacco.

“I’m sorry..” he sighed. He sounded sincere.

“..I went too far.”

Now your own hands were resting upon his arms. You could feel the heat his body was radiating right now. With a honeyed soft tone, he murmured “Please forgive me, I don’t know what came over me. It’s just that having you standing here again, in front of me, stunned me. I didn’t know what to do and I misunderstood your demeanor. I thought you were pretending nothing had happened, or that you didn’t recall that day, or that you simply didn’t care.”

His hold slowly loosened, allowing you to turn around and look at him with narrowed eyes and a puzzled expression, without a word.

“Uhm, I’m not very good at communicating my emotions, but you’re right. I’ve been a dick. You didn’t deserve it, but I was overwhelmed by the attempt to suppress my own feelings. Since I saw you again,”

he paused,

“you are all I can think about.” he admitted, stroking your tear-stained cheek with his thumb, but you tried to resist him,

“I hope you’re not trying to play me, because otherwise I’ll smash that stupid hot smirk to the ground.”

“So do you think I’m hot, uh?!”

“You dumbass.”

“God, you’re so damn sexy when you’re mad.” he teased, coming closer.

“What?” you giggled. He stared at your lips “I just can’t stop thinking about kissing you right now…” and unexpectedly, his hand drifted to your hip, pulling you even closer. You inhaled deeply. You were against his warm chest, sculpted to perfection. Why must he be so perfect? You placed your hand against it, intending to push him away, but instead you left it there. You froze, from both fear and excitement.

You two stared into each other’s eyes and his breathing quickened as did yours. He slowly leaned in, so his forehead rested against yours. You closed your eyes. Your faces were inches apart now, and he lightly traced your lips with one finger. His other hand placed behind your neck, shortening the distance even more.

Your noses bumped and your mouths matched up slightly-opened, breathing each other’s air directly. He brushed his lips against yours and you freaking loved it. You loved the way your body melted into his. The way your lips perfectly fitted like two puzzle pieces. The way Duncan held you tighter and tighter. It sent shivers down your back. His only desire was to touch you, to move his hands under your layers and feel your smooth skin.

You two broke the kiss for a second to catch your breath. Then he pulled you in, claiming your mouth again, hungry and intense. Duncan lowered his hands down your hips, cupping your ass and dragging you impossibly close. You deepened the kiss swallowing his groan of pleasure as you lost into each other, no space between you two. His hands were exploring your body, while you grabbed his hair tightly to restrain your own moans.

Slowly, you started exploring each other’s mouths with your tongues. Sometimes sucking his lower lip and biting it a little bit. He started kissing your jaw and leaving hickeys on your neck. He didn’t want to let you go, so he pulled you again and kissed you so hard, with much more intensity. He squeezed you, suggesting that he wasn’t going to stop. You didn’t mind at all and continued making out.

He slowly put his hands under your blouse, trying to reach and unhook your bra, eager to run his fingers along your breasts and rub it. You began unbuttoning his button-down, seductively leaving wet kisses and love bites on his chest. He moaned. Then Duncan raised your blouse and took it off completely, so he could see you.

“You’re beautiful” he purred, and started massaging your chest and kissing it hardly, licking and biting gently your nipple. While Duncan was playing with your body, you could only keep on tugging his hair, making his moans vibrate against your body. Then he kneeled down kissing your stomach.

Both of you couldn’t silent your groans anymore, the entire room was filled by sexual noises. But you didn’t care at all. You knew where it was going. Duncan pushed you against a wall, grinding on you and you could clearly feel his hardness pressed against your body. You needed more friction.

“Jump.” he suddenly hinted, and used his veiny arms to hold you up by your thighs lifting you off the ground. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Your core was throbbing at that very moment.

But you were brought back to planet Earth right after; that divine feeling was ruined by a pesky thought that clouded your mind.

What if he’s just interested in sex?

He sensed your sudden slowing down. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered. When you remained silent, he brushed his mouth against your temple,

“Or now.”

he followed the line of your cheekbone,

“Or now.”

now he was kissing your chin,

“Or—”

then your lips were against his, again. You kept undressing slowly, savoring the moment.

But that damn thought came back, stuck in your mind. And eventually it hit you. “Wait…wait” you said, trying to steady your breathing.

“What’s wrong angel? I did something wrong or..” he questioned worriedly. “No, not at all, it was perfect..but I don’t think this is right.”

“Wait what?! Why?” Duncan replied in disbelief.

“I’m not a yes girl, Duncan. I’m not looking for casual hookups, I really want to know you better and see where this leads us.” you smiled reassuringly, caressing his cheek. You were scared as fuck. Maybe he wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship, just random booty calls. But you had to take the risk. You wanted to.

“Uhm..yeah. I guess that sounds fair enough.” he chuckled and you released the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “How about a coffee date? I know a place, it’s quite secluded, to not attract the attention of press and journalists” you tilted your head and frowned,

“What do you mean?”

“Angel, I don’t want you to be targeted by newspapers, they aim to find some dirt on me and make every aspect of my private life public. I prefer keeping a low profile, and put you in an uncomfortable position is the last thing I would want.” “Oh, ok. I got it.” you were a little thoughtful, to be honest. But in that moment, you would have agreed with everything he was saying. You used every inch of strength you had, to stop and not go further. Not that there was anything wrong with that. You just wished to learn more about that handsome man in front of you; his desires, his passions, his values and aspirations.

“I’d better get back to work, they’ll wonder what happened to me.” he smirked. “Yeah, you better hurry up, then” you laughed, while putting your blouse on. “I’m gonna put aside the chosen clothes” you informed, but before you could leave the cramped room, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back in his arms, giving a last soft peck on your lips.

“How can I focus now, with the thought of you against me?!”

“You’ll have to make do with the memory..” you shot back “..for now.” you cooed, whispering in his hear.

The rest of the day went off without a hitch. You had exchanged numbers and with all those texts you were sending to each other, you felt like a schoolgirl again. Nothing could have ruined that sensation. Before going back home, Richard called you, questioning you about the meeting, not noticing your struggle to not make disconnected sentences or beat around the bush, to hide your embarrassment. Then, to thank you for having his back, he gave you another assignment: a high-society lady had requested a selection of gowns to choose, to attend a few fundraising events. Another important add-on for your CV. A few more efforts and they would have finally offered you the long-awaited position in the creative team.

The consultation had been set up two days later, you had to go to the customer’s penthouse this time. Ugh, lazy rich people. You rang the doorbell and right after you were greeted by a thin blonde girl, all fake boobs and tinted tips, wearing a dress that seemed closer to a long top, rather than an actual dress.

“Hey, you must be Y/N! Come in! I’ll be right back” she yelled. You came in holding the garment bag; you were shocked when you found out how actually big the apartment was: super modern, black & white themed and with some art hanging on the walls.

Uhm, de gustibus you muttered to yourself.

“Here I am, sorry for the waiting. I am Madison!” Why rich people seem so reluctant to share their last name with me? you mused, smiling to yourself.

“Let’s start, shall we?”

And then Madison took you to what has to be her large bedroom. Odd. That seemed more like a bachelor to you, but judging wasn’t your thing.

The fitting went smooth as silk. This Madison was a bombshell, every single dress fitted her body as it was sewn on her. For the upcoming event she chose a nude silk dress, that perfectly matched her skin tone. She looked pretty excited for the pick, so much that she started screaming and calling out loud, making you aware that there was someone else around.

“Muffin come here!!! I chose the dress!! It’s perfect oh my God! You must see it before I take it off!”

MUFFIN.

Seriously? Do not laugh, please, do not laugh.

You were biting her lip a little too hard. While Madison kept calling her…muffin, you decided to do something and began packing all the stuff back up into the bag.

“Oh finally, you walk so slow, babe…now, look! What do you think?” Before the man could answer she continued “Oh wait, how rude I am. Y/N, this is my fiancé...”

As soon as you turned around and lifted your gaze, your heart stopped beating.

“…Duncan!”

His smile soon disappeared too, replaced by a shocked and guilty expression, like a deer caught in the headlights. You froze in place.

You were trying to hold back the impending flood of tears, washing it away with your anger. A million different feelings rushed through you, but at the same time you couldn’t feel anything, just your own heart, literally breaking down in pieces.

“Do you already know each other?” Madison asked, noting Duncan’s surprise. You gathered all the strength left within you and stated

“Just one of the many customers.”

Then, lowering your broken voice, you sputtered a “Now I really have to go.”

Without saying anything more, you took the garment bag and run straight to the door, shutting it down behind your back. Right after, a teardrop rolled over your cheek, and your eyes started watering. Once that the first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Before turning into a sobbing mess, you walked fast down the hallway, reaching the elevator and waiting for the doors to open up.

Before you could take another step, a large hand took you by the wrist, keeping you in place. You turned around and instantly pushed him back, trying to free yourself from his grip.

“Please,” he begged,

“Let me explain. Please, I don’t want to lose you! We have something..w-we can talk about it, please, wait!”

“Go to Hell” you snapped;

and then you shoved his hand away, entering the elevator. Stupid. I am so fucking stupid. You two looked at each other one last time, shedding tears. The eyes of both soaking blatantly. And then the doors shut.

That heartbreak felt like concrete drying in your chest.

________________________________________________________________

Tagging: (I hope you don’t mind BUT tell me if you want to be removed, I was just curious to know your opinion about it, if you'd like to read it) MUCH LOVE @ladynuwanda @hecohansen31 @michael-langdon-appreciation @sojournmichael @so-langdon @stupidocupido @sammythankyou @emmyrosee

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years

Text

Dragon Dancer II: Project - Leviathan

I’d used my father’s Nibelungen gate to steal away with Johann for Hanami in Chizuru in the middle of the night, and felt much better for it. Johann had gone to Chizuru and sent me a picture as I instructed. I visualized the place in my head and stepped through the gate to be with him, wearing the blue and white kimono gifted to me by Caesar over a year ago. Chizuru was twelve hours ahead of Paris, it was the middle of the night. It was a lovely two hours in the sun and the glory of the flowers. Anjou was none the wiser.

Returning to my hotel room in the dark made it seem even more like a dream. My fingers ran across my lips. They still burned where Johann had kissed me. My body still reacted to the memory.

Master List

The room was huge and alien and it made it hard to get any sleep. I tossed and turned in the unfamiliar bed. My thoughts turned back to my Chicago home, not to Cassell. That burned too, taking my whole foster family with it. It was the last place I’d truly felt at home. Ever since I left there, I’d never slept in so many different beds in my entire life.

Back in January, Johann told me that after graduation he would find a place for us. I had thought it was just him being dramatic. He’d been upset and tired at the time he said it. But now as I lay in the dark, in strange surroundings yet again, I realized he might have been completely serious, that he picked up on the fact that we’d both been uprooted, and looking for a place to settle.

The sun came up and I was still tired. Dressed in a plush robe provided by the hotel, I spoke with Johann over video call. He was in an airport, preparing to return to Chicago.

“Do you know who you’ll be working with?” He asked.

“An Agent Robertson…” I yawned. “Sorry, still a little jetlagged.”

To this day, I was captivated by the strands of dark hair framing the golden eyes that peered over his dark glasses, his cool so-called expressionless face. It wasn’t expressionless to me any more. The subtle flicker of his eye lids, the inflection of his voice, the tilt of his head said far more than his words did. To me, they spoke to his quick wit and profound intelligence, the ability to sort and catalogue his thoughts to say and express exactly what he wanted to in a single precise motion.

“I know him. You’re in good hands.” Johann nodded his stoic approval. “He’s been with the Executive department for about fifteen years. His skill is called Desolation and will turn anyone who stands in front of him to solid rock to a distance of 50 feet. It’s an A-rank devastating talent I’ve only seen him use once. He’s also very conscientious and hardworking. He’ll keep the other agents in line.”

I rubbed my eyes and blinked. “Anjou said something about being concerned about the agents here.”

“There was a scandal about three years back. Robertson was assigned from New York to get a handle on things. But some of the people who were responsible for it still work there. I’d be cautious around the French Agents if I were you.”

“Noted.” I rested my chin in my hands. “Are you doing alright?”

His eyelids lowered and my heart skipped a beat at the ghost of a smile. My persistent worry for him never failed to provoke a reaction. “Don’t worry about me. I want you to have a good time in Paris.” The amusement left his face. “I mean it. You’re going to Fashion Week starting today. I want you to get lots of cute outfits and take pictures for me. Eat pastries at La Pâtisserie du Meurice par Cédric Grolet. Take pictures of those too. The pastries they make are very cute.” He ticked these things off as if they were a list of objectives on a mission. But that’s not what drew my attention.

What made me sit up a little straighter was his flawless pronunciation of the name of the bakery. “Johann… do you speak French?”

He tilted his hand back and forth, but didn’t comment. “I’ll send you a care package through Robertson. That way, you won’t have to worry about anything but having fun. Europe doesn’t have the same products that you’re used to.”

Johann had become well studied in the concept of black hair care. My braids and my curls were unique to me and he understood that these locks would accept no substitutions.

“I love you, Chu Zihang.” I said in Chinese.

“I love you, Bai Meixiu.” He said. “Call me again after Fashion Week. I’m interested in this mission of yours.”

“I have to get ready but… can I ask you something?” When prompted by a nod, I continued. “When you said you would find a place for us after graduation… did you mean it? What did you mean?”

He suddenly wasn’t meeting my eyes any more, a faint color coming to his face.

I explained, one hand running down a thin braid. “I was just thinking last night… how hard it was to sleep in so many different beds. It sounded nice to have a real home again. I think I’d like that.”

The color on his face suddenly deepened. “I’d prefer to talk about that in person.”

“Okay… I’ll see you again soon.”

*****

Apparently, the Paris Fashion shows themselves were so exclusive that you had to receive a personal invitation or be a member of the media to attend. Even so, the city was packed. Our ritzy accommodations were fully booked. The fact that we could stay where ever we wanted, eat wherever we wanted, and go to the shows all over Paris spoke volumes about the level of clout Anjou had. Never once were we refused entry, or had to wait. Our tickets of admission were immediately accepted by the staff.

He mingled about the immaculately dressed crowd at the show, shaking hands, giving hugs and leaning in to give little kisses on the cheek. He was introducing me to the people he knew. I suddenly realized that as the top student at Cassell, Anjou was showing me to his inner circle of friends, getting me acquainted with the top brass of Hybrid hierarchy throughout the world. Many were successful businessmen. Many were ancient families with a long history of wealth and power. Some were currently heads of state.

All of them were Hybrids.

I wore a long white dress with white gloves up to my elbows and a white fluffy hair piece in the shape of angel wings. It immediately attracted attention to me. I didn’t speak any French, but I didn’t have to to understand that they were very curious about Anjou’s little debutante.

We took our seats for the actual show. “Am I doing okay?”

“You’re doing just fine my dear.” Anjou, holding his own glass of wine, smiled. “Ah… this never gets old.”

“Can we buy some of the outfits?” It was the first time I had asked to buy anything.

Anjou laughed. “So you’ve finally come around to Paris! Just point to whatever you like!”

I rubbed my hands together eagerly watching for anything cute that I liked -- that Johann might like. With sudden motivation, I found myself spinning in dressing rooms, feeling the fine fabric on my skin. My dancer’s physique was perfect for the French style and the women there had more than enough fun dressing me up for my own personal fashion show. There was even a photographer. A burly African man leaned over with a camera to take pictures of me pretending to be a model. I noticed a familiar emblem on his jacket.

“You’re from Cassell!”

His bright smile glowed on his face. “Agent Robertson at your service!” His New Yorker accent was obvious.

My eyes widened. “They sent you to take pictures of me? Someone as experienced as you?”

He smirked. “Heh. I’ve been following you two all over town. My assignment is to be your security detail… but discreetly.”

“Are the other agents here too?” I asked.

“That they are. Once fashion week is over, you’ll be off to work.”

“Johann Chu says hello.” I swayed in the mirror, making my skirt swirl.

“That guy…” He flipped through the photos on the camera. “Tell him to come back to Paris so I can beat him at basketball again. Nobody else here play.”

I turned to him the moment he said that. “I play.”

His jaw dropped. “Well, well, well… this is going to be a fun assignment.”

My security doubled as paparazzi as I made my way around Paris. I hung out in the first Arrondissement, admiring the parks, the fountains, and the Louvre Museum. I stalked A-list celebrities and got Robertson to take photos of them for me.

All the photos were sent to my social media account at Cassell. Johann Chu liked every one of them. He left comments of which clothes I should take home. When I asked if he wanted a souvenir, he simply replied. “No, this is enough.”

The heat rose in my face. “Sweet talker…”

When it was time for me to leave the hotel, Anjou left a final message for me on a gold embossed perfumed card. “Congratulations on your first assignment. May it be the first in a long career.”

Under a bright spring sun, we traveled in a convoy of black armored vehicles to the safe house. Men brandishing AK-47s opened the gate to allow us in. We drove down a winding narrow road through a forest to the massive chateau.

Robertson grew quiet and serious, constantly on his walkie-talkie, giving orders and receiving feedback and updating our position. He referred to me as ‘The Asset’. I was escorted to the heavy wooden door. It opened. Four other men stood before me. They were all European, in suits and sunglasses despite their being indoors.

“Agent Lavigne, IT. Monet, Logistics. Blanchet, Security. Garnier, Security.”

The French agents. I nodded to them politely. “Nice to meet you. I’m Charlotte.”

Agent Lavigne, lowered his glasses to reveal bright green eyes. He was pale with freckles and a shock of red hair. “Allow me to show you where you will be working.”

My heels clicked against the marble tiled floor. There were columns and statues and art everywhere. We went up the stairs to a large master suite. “This room has all the amenities you need. Unless required, you should be able to stay here and not leave it. There is a balcony in the back for fresh air.”

“Not leave my room?” I asked in dismay.

“There is an extensive amount of work you must do here. Your playtime is over.”

I pressed my lips together, glaring.

“Don’t antagonize her. Anjou said she needs to be kept happy.” Robertson immediately placed himself between me and Lavigne. I glanced between them, unsure of why there was this sudden tension.

Lavigne cleared his throat. “I meant no offense. My English is not that good.”

Lame excuse, I thought, but I nodded.

“The laptop you’ll be working with is directly connected to EVA. Your task will be translation and interpretation of the text. Nothing more.”

“Why fly me all the way out here if I’m just going to work with EVA?” I asked. “Wouldn’t it have been easier just to stay at Cassell? What’s with all the security?”

“That information is unfortunately classified.” Robertson said. Despite his serious demeanor, he smiled a little. “I will tell you this. Sometimes, Cassell doesn’t want to show it’s directly involved in a project.”

“Oh… … Okay…” I said. I nodded once in determination. “I’ll work hard!”

“We’ll leave you to it.” The two agents shut the door.

I jumped up onto yet another strange plush bed and opened the laptop. “Agent Meixiu!” I declared.

Immediately, the machine registered my face and voice. It spoke to me in EVAs vocal AI. “Welcome. I hope your stay in Paris was enjoyable.”

“It was! So what are we doing here?”

“We’re interpreting and translating the draconic text found underneath the slums of Mumbai. It’s a densely populated place, but the ruins are accessible through the sewers. Wells dug by Cassell are reaching even greater depths.”

Pictures of the locations of the dig sites and maps flashed across my screen.

“Your initial assignment will be to translate this document. It is composed of 15,000 symbols, 5,000 of those are unknown draconic.”

“Five thousand?!” I whispered. I sighed. “Okay… Let’s get to it.”

“Your acceptance of the mission has been logged. Welcome to Project: Leviathan.”

The reams of draconic script opened themselves before me. There were so many unfamiliar words mixed in with familiar ones. One thing was immediately clear. These weren’t ancient chants, prayers or curses. This was a history, a record of actions. What was stranger was that the actions weren’t of a dragon, but of a human man.

I stood up and looked around the room. It would take me months to translate all this and I was not interested in spending that much time away from Johann. There were several framed pictures on the wall. I got off the bed and pulled down one. Then I fished out a permanent marker from my luggage and drew a time dilation rune on the wall. When activated, three hours here would only be one hour outside the room. I rehung the picture over it.

I would not need EVAs assistance. As a supercomputer, she could only make guesses based on available information, and that was not always accurate. I had someone who had direct access to draconic script and was a native speaker. She spun out from my dragon scale necklace, floating there.

Ielia, a version of me from another dimension, appeared like a glowing ghost in the room. “Please help me translate this?”

She gave me a solemn nod.

#Johann Chu #Dragon Raja #Fanfiction #Writing

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streakofemercld-blog · 6 years

Text

It had been, what, six months gone since he’d taken a proper job, now. Paragon was nice, friendly and lowkey, but it was a facade, even if Bran did enjoy the bartending and the generally sweet pace of life in the college town. Still he couldn’t stand being so still, stagnant; he ached to put his muscles to their true use, to slip and slide between shadows, draw a blade across a throat and leave before the blood finished flowing.

There were several assignment choices he could pick from, but one stood out to him more than the rest, modest sum from a man in Berlin, needing three of his former employees knocked off. Knew too much, it seemed, and he wasn’t sure he could get them to completely keep their mouths shut. Bran was going to be that insurance. Two of them lived in different areas of the city, and one was out in the country, commuting to the city for work, which made covering his tracks easier.

Or so he thought.

First day back in Europe, and he called Conor before he was even out of the airport, waiting for bagage claim still. Chatted with him for a bit, and even the air felt better than in the States, less tense and moving at a better pace. “Where are ye, Bran? Don’t sound like a uni campus. Are ye in an airport?” Moment of pride, at his brother’s observation skills, chuckling at how easily he’s been found out. Course, Conor knows him better than anyone else, even their Da.

“Yea, Germany. Got some business t’deal with here, nothin’ too troublesome,” he explains, quick to tack on the end. Last thing Conor needs with exams coming up was to worry about Bran. Grabbing his bag, finally, moving out to the city. Getting on the train, so much faster than American trains, a real bullet train. Chatting about Conor’s classes, his job; how Bran’s bar is doing, about Lu and John.

Hint of concern from his brother, around the two inching into Bran’s heart. Undoubtedly thinking of the same time Bran is, but neither of them say much on it. They say goodbyes as Bran gets to his hotel, hanging up to check in, his German rusty but serviceable. Hotel room bland and boring, but it’s more secure than a hostal, less documented than an Airbnb. Last time he was in Berlin, Danny was with him, and it was for holiday not business.

Best not to think about that.

He’s jetlagged as all hell, but the sun is up and he’s starving, so it’s a good a time as any for the more personal part of his trip. Remembers the layout of the city well enough, uses his map to get him to his destination: German History Museum.

One of his old contacts had directed him here, telling him it was his best bet to ‘discover’ more about Ulrich Austerlitz. One, two, three months ago he wouldn’t have cared much, but now he’s very interested. This man had his Lu afraid, had used her, and even without knowing their full history, Bran could tell it wasn’t pretty. Needed to know who he was dealing with, see if he could find anything to use against this man, should he come for Lu.

What he found was... Baffling, truly. He’d taken the information down, to look over later, find out more. Spent the night visiting a few tourist stops, canvasing the buildings his targets lived in.

Two days in, he took out the woman in the country.

Another day passed, and he took out one in the city.

Fourth day... Well.

He was grazed by a bullet, kicked in the ribs, but managed to avoid being scratched. No skin contact, no evidence left behind him. Hair tied back so none of it fell onto the bodies, and he always wiped every surface down, meticulously. But apparently, having his old coworkers murdered made his last target antsy, had him hiring protection. Bran had thought them building security, but no, they were just for his target.

Still, only one of the two in the apartment was still breathing, though he suspected others would be following soon, if he didn’t get this commotion down. Bleeding from his side, though his layers keep most of it from seeping onto the floor, and he’s moving quickly, grapping the wrist holding the gun, jerking it upward. Break the wrist, scream as the thug drops the gun, punch to the throat. Cut off the sounds.

Dragging him to the area of the room where Bran had been shot, and he shoots him, leaves the gun in his hand. Takes a switchblade from his belt, and he goes over to his target, where they had been left unconsious. Slow drag of blade over skin, and Bran drops the knife, knowing his fingerprints aren’t on it. Can already imagine how the story would be spun out in the papers, and he leaves quickly, runs a clean cloth over his face to remove any splatterings of blood, before stuffing it back into his pocket.

Wound is worse off than he thought, but nothing that he can’t handle on his own. Quick sip of whiskey to calm his nerves before steralizing the needle, thread at the ready, and his hands are thankfully, blissfully steady. Bloodied rags rest next to him on the bed, but his side is cleaned and ready for stitches. Drag of the thread through skin has him gritting his teeth, but he breathes through it, until the stitches are done. Bandaging it up is easy by comparison, and he throws the bloodied paper towels away, settling back on his side. Tired, and his flight is tomorrow night, back to Paragon. Back to his bar, and the quiet, still life of being a bartender.

He isn’t sure if it’s relief or despair that fills his chest at the idea.

#Paras #oneshot

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imagine-loki · 6 years

Text

Long And Lost

TITLE: Long And Lost

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 7.

AUTHOR: FadingCoast

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine being Loki’s old friend/Lover in Asgard, but you left for Earth a long time ago. For all he knows, you might be dead, but you’re still alive and you’ve been working with SHIELD and/or the Avengers.

RATING: Mature.

NOTES/WARNINGS: Not-so-subtle sex scene, of sorts. You’ll get it when you read it. The prologue is set right before Avengers. The first chapters are set after Civil War. Chapter 4 and on are all on Ragnarok

Also on Ao3

Ch. 7: It’s been so long between the words we spoke

As soon as the jet landed, Bucky ran to the patio. He hadn’t been this excited in days. He couldn’t wait to see her again, to tell her how well he was doing, to show her the new arm prototypes Princess Shuri and he had been working on.

The first thing he noticed when she got off the plane, were her eyes landing on him. Bucky couldn’t hide the smile. She smiled back.

“I am so happy you’re back!” He said, pulling her in for a hug.

“I was away for only a couple of weeks!” She giggled. Her laugh was short lived though.

Tell him to get his dirty paws off you!

Shut up, Loki.

Sigyn allowed Bucky to hold her hand while he dragged her into the building.

Sorry, PAW. What happened to his other arm?

Seriously, Loki, shut up!

Sigyn could feel Loki giggling inside her head. Idiot!

“Victoria!” Princess Shuri greeted them as soon as they got into the cybernetics room. “You’re finally back! Bucky really wanted you to be here for this!”

“Princess.” She greeted with a small nod, then eyed Bucky who was standing by her side with a slight blush on his face.

“I just- I just wanted to know if you like it.” He said sheepishly.

Shuri showed them the new arm prototype, and Sigyn could do nothing more than praise her for her work. It was an extremely delicate and amazing piece of tech. She also noticed the golden appliances, and had to suppress the smirk when Shuri told her those were Bucky’s idea.

“I wonder where did that come from.” She rolled her eyes.

As Bucky allowed some personnel to fiddle and examine his shoulder, Shuri took Sigyn’s arm and pulled her away.

“I need to talk to you about the other thing.” Shuri said. “He has been doing really well, we hasn’t had a blackout in several days, but–”

“Migraines.” Sigyn nodded. “Sharon told me they were getting worse.”

“Yes. And we’ve discussed it with the medical team and everything inside is head seems to be running pretty well.”

Sigyn shook her head. “Not everything inside his head is well.” Shuri looked at her a bit puzzle. “He’s not sleeping.” Shuri kept staring at her. “And I’m guessing he hasn’t told you.”

“No, he hasn’t. But it makes sense.” Shuri stared at Bucky, who was getting his clothes back on. “I’m going to kill him, though.”

As soon as the door opened, Shuri was all over Bucky, poking fingers on his chest and scolding him for keeping things from her. Bucky didn’t think it was such big of a deal, and laughed it off.

Sigyn just stared at them from the doorframe, until Shuri left the room exasperated.

She was drained, and Bucky noticed.

“I was hoping we could get something to eat.” He half suggested. “I’ve been a little scared of going out without you here, to be honest.”

Tell him to get lost.

Sigyn just closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead, not even letting Loki know that she had heard him. “I’m sorry, James. I’m tired and jetlagged.”

Bucky looked slightly hurt. “I’m sorry. You just got here and I’ve been dragging you all around. Why didn’t you say something?”

“You were just so excited.” Bucky blushed again and Sigyn smiled. “Tomorrow, after we figure out how to make you sleep, we’ll go out.”

She gave his hand a small squeeze before walking away from him.

Back in her assigned bedroom, Sigyn decided to have a bath. She hoped it could soothe her headache for a while. The irony: she could heal headaches easily, just not her own. Making use of her magic, she got the bath running and discarded her clothes. It wasn’t long until she was enjoying the hot water on her tense muscles.

The peace was short lived, though.

“You just couldn’t help yourself.” She said. “You just had to interrupt my moment.”

“You know me better than expecting me not to do it.” Loki’s projection was at the other end of the tub, making it look like they were sharing the bath. “These chambers are appaling!”

“Better than your tiny cell.”

“I already got out of it.” He said with a smirk.

Sigyn looked at him puzzled. “In less than twenty four hours?”

“It’s been almost 3 days.” He said, not as smiley now. Then he sighed. “We’re so far apart even time runs different.”

Sigyn sighed and relaxed again. “How is Sakaar treating you now?”

“With respect. I made acquaintances with this- being- the Grandmaster. He’s crazy, but he can be amenable.”

Loki watched Sigyn close her eyes and drop her head back. He could feel her legs on his end of the tub. It was getting hard to keep the illusion there, with her body going through it.

“You’re tired.” He said hoarsely.

“Quite the understatement” She said, opening one eye to look at him.

“And it is my fault.”

“A bit.” She admitted.

“Why don’t you block me?”

“Because I missed you.” Sigyn said with a shrug. “I missed having this.” She pointed to both of them.

Loki’s projection shifted and hovered over her. His face an inch away from hers. “Let your hair lose…” He said softly. Sigyn complied. He wished he could run his fingers through her mane, bury his face in it. Would it still smell of lavender and sunlight? Loki leaned even closer, still not touching her. “Close your eyes.” Sigyn took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Immediately, her head was flooded with Loki’s illusion. They were in their old asgardian chambers. Sigyn looked around. A myriad of memories flooded that room. Happy times. Devastating times.

Not now, though.

He was hovering over her. It felt like the beginning of so many times they had been together.

Sigyn watched Loki run his hands over her body. It was weird, cause she knew he wasn’t touching it, but the memories were so engraved in her that he didn’t need to. She could remember everything.

She could remember the pause he always did right over her hips. How he loved to line the underside of her breasts before cupping them. That lazy tweak he did with his thumb that made her shiver.

Loki dropped his head to her chest. He still wasn’t touching her, but she could remember how his tongue worked on her breasts before giving way to his whole mouth. Her breath hitched a bit. Loki smiled.

Without words, he kept tending to her body. Working her up like he had a million times before. His hands ghosting over her legs sent shivers down her spine. Sigyn looked at him in their illusion, crawling back up in between her legs. Both knew what would come next.

Sigyn gripped the edges of the bathtub, concentrating hard to keep the illusion going.

Her hands went for his back, and Loki arched his body. He remembered too. The soft way her nails would trace the edge of his shoulder blades and the bones of his spine. The weight of her thighs around his waist. His breath was picking up.

How I wish I could kiss you!

I wish to do a lot more than kiss you.

Both smiled.

Keeping the illusion was even harder now. In reality, Loki was fisting the sheets of his bed, head buried in a pillow. Sigyn’s knuckles were almost white on the edge of the tub, water splashing out of it.

This should be impossible.

They are memories! We’re only remembering how this feels.

Oh, they could remember. They could remember so well even their thoughts were out of breath. Sigyn felt every ridge of Loki inside of her, as Loki could feel all her soaked heat around him.

Loki… I’m…

I know… fuck!

The illusion shattered, leaving them both floating on empty space. Sigyn could almost feel Loki snuggling on her neck. She opened her eyes to the brightness of the bathroom. Loki’s illusion was gone.

That was-

It was.

Sigyn smiled to herself and got out of the bath. Still on a daze, she braided her hair and got into her nightgown. She felt all tingly, and she could sense Loki was in a similar state of mind.

Goodnight, my love.

Was the last thing in her head before drifting to sleep, sort of happy, and sort of satisfied, knowing that at the other side of the universe, Loki had made a mess of his bed.

I blame Loki for the bath scene. I swear I just wanted Sigyn to relax for a bit and then Loki as there and everything went out of control. Loki is well on his way to become my intrusive thought!!

Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

#Loki #Lover #Angst #Imagine #Submitted fic #submission #long and lost #chapter 7 #fadingcoast #friend #love #asgard #earth #dead #alive #S.H.I.E.L.D.#avengers #ecstatic #relationship #midgardian

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anachronicwriting · 6 years

Text

If Only for Tonight

Taekey

~1500 words

We could have been different

people

Part, but not quite, of the 007!AU.

Can be read as a one-shot.

It was an odd coincidence of events; a lull in his workload, no agents out on mission, he had just finished a big project, Taemin had just finished debriefing his last assignment.

Taemin had walked into his office without even bothering to knock, not unlike most days he found himself in headquarters.

"Buy me lunch?"

"That isn't much of a question." Kibum answered, looking up from a report.

Maybe it was the fact that Taemin looked clearly jetlagged, and Kibum himself had slept through the night for the first time in what felt like months, "and no, I won't buy you lunch. It is nine p.m. we're going for dinner." He didn't feel the need to decline. "What do you feel like having?"

Taemin looks at him questioningly, at the lack of resistance from his part.

"Anytime I get to go out looking so much better than you, is to be embraced." Kibum says, answering the unspoken question.

"You are mean." Taemin answers with a laugh. "Your choice. I could eat anything right now, I'm starving." He looks pleasantly surprised.

"Well, there is this restaurant downtown that I've been meaning to try, they serve deep fried crickets as an entry. I hear it's quite good." Kibum says.

"Never mind, let’s go for Japanese, I'm craving it." Taemin answers abruptly, as he starts walking. "Remind me never to let you pick where we eat in the future." He says as Kibum laughs, and goes after him, taking his coat on the way out.

------------

As they walk side by side, collars turned up against the wind, Kibum wonders when he started classifying his relationships with others by how much it will hurt when they leave.

He wonders when Taemin had managed to create a class of his own.

------------

The meal goes by uneventfully, they barely talk, Taemin's attempt at being coherent while being clearly exhausted resulting in an incomprehensible string of words on more than one occasion, to Kibum's entertainment.

They get to Taemin's apartment around eleven o’clock, Kibum dragging Taemin up the stairs, as he sleepily leans on his shoulder.

Taemin has a charm that has nothing to do with the why he is a great agent, he thinks. Because loving hurts, Kibum knows this all too well; but Taemin, effortless, makes him forget it, if only for a moment.

Taemin mumbles something incomprehensible as they get out of the elevator.

As they reach the door and Taemin pulls him by the hand, and asks, "Stay the night?" He tries to remember all the reasons this is a bad choice, letting himself get even closer to Taemin.

But he really wants to say yes.

"Can't we just pretend that we are normal for once?" Taemin asks as Kibum hesitates to answer.

Taemin looks tired, and it makes him seem vulnerable; it pulls at Kibum's heartstrings.

"What even 'is' normal?" He says, walking past him and into the apartment.

"Don't know, but this can't be it." Taemin sighs as he pushes the door closed behind them, he lets out a soft breathy chuckle that makes him seem younger.

As he crosses the threshold, Kibum decides to allow himself to just be happy for the moment.

Maybe they could pretend, "So, Mr. 'let's be normal' what exactly are we doing tonight?" He asks as he drops himself on the couch.

Pretend that there isn't a reason for them to be the way they are.

"I'm tired, just let me cuddle with you." Taemin says dragging a hand through his hair.

"If you shower first, you reek." Kibum says sinking back into the cushions.

Taemin groans.

"I'm dead serious. I'm not sleeping anywhere near you if you don't."

--------

Taemin takes too short a time to get in and out of the shower for Kibum's liking, he thinks as he watches Taemin walk out of the bathroom in nothing but sweats, and a towel draped over his shoulders, with a look on his face that says he is only half awake.

"Come here." Kibum says patting the space beside him on the bed.

"You look good in my clothes." Taemin says drowsily as Kibum takes the towel from his shoulders and starts to dry Taemin's hair with it.

Kibum had helped himself to one of Taemin's oversized T-shirts, not wanting to sleep shirtless. "This don't even seem to fit you, why do you even have them?"

"They are comfy." Taemin says, leaning on Kibum's shoulder.

There are things they don't talk about.

The silence sits in place of the lies that would so easily fall from their lips.

"You make me forget." Taemin whispers then.

Kibum could pretend, he could pretend that he doesn't understand what Taemin meant by that. Brush it off as sleepy nonsense.

"We could pretend, for tonight." Kibum answers in the same hushed tone, like speaking any louder would break the spell. "That tomorrow we will be different people."

"Kinky." Taemin says, but Kibum can’t hear the usual humour in his voice, his tone just falling flat.

They communicate better with silence, and half-hearted barbs at each other that are only meant to fill the empty space between them.

But, tonight is different, and Kibum suddenly feels as tired as Taemin looks.

"What do you think we would be doing right now? If not this, if we weren't working for MI6." Taemin's breath tickled his neck.

"We wouldn't have met." Kibum answers, knowing perfectly well that if he weren't working for MI6 right now he would be dead. "I wouldn't be here."

Taemin shifted, "Let me rephrase that then. What would you want to do if you weren't working for MI6?"

Kibum leans back into the pillows, Taemin moving with him.

"I guess, I have never thought about it." He answers, because he really hasn't, and it makes him feel unsteady.

He doesn't know why, but he knows that he will never forget this moment. It will remain in his head, this silence, in between silly imaginings, Taemin’s warmth as he lays on top of him, the tickle of his breath on his neck and the soft rasp of his voice in the silence of the night.

"Do you really think we wouldn't have met?" Taemin asked after a pause.

"It's unlikely." Kibum knows everything about who Taemin had been before, "I don't think we would have crossed paths, a street-rat and the heir of a multimillionaire." He said with a dry laugh.

"You could have created your own empire, you are smart, you could have bankrupted any tech company." Taemin says brushing his fingers up Kibum’s waist, "We could have been different people."

Kibum hums, in vague agreement.

"You could have become a dancer; I could have gone to one of your performances." Kibum adds after a moment, letting himself fall into a world that could never be.

"That doesn't make sense." Taemin looks up at him with a small smile, but he doesn't seem annoyed by it.

And Kibum thinks of the way sometimes it feels as if Taemin's feet don't touch the ground, and he is moving through the space in a way so fluid and smooth that it would make water seem stiff. "You don't make sense." He answers, because he has enough sense left to not say what he thinks out loud.

"Alright, fine, I'm a dancer." Taemin said with a laugh. "We meet, then what?"

"Then, you and I get to talk and we keep running into each other at those high-brow parties, full of people who love to turn their noses up at plebeians, and we make fun of them."

"I can see that." Taemin says. "And then after a while of mocking other people I ask you out, because if I left it to you it would never get done."

Kibum pinches his arm, "You little brat."

"It's true though." Taemin laughs.

It is the way Taemin looks right after he laughs, when he really laughs; Kibum thinks, what makes him so utterly unable to push him away.

Kibum is incredibly grateful to whatever force has made it possible, for him to witness.

It made whatever weight Taemin had on his shoulders to drop, his cool façade to crumble.

"I could have a dog, or two." Kibum says, as the quiet starts to weight on him.

"Do you want a dog?" Taemin asks.

"I've always wanted to own a dog." Kibum shrugs slightly "Not with this schedule though."

"You would spoil it, you just seem the type, such a pushover."

"It would be a miracle if you could keep a dog alive." Kibum responds. "I know you are a trained assassin, but I still worry about you living alone."

"You worry about me." Taemin coos with a yawn, shifting closer to Kibum, clearly dozing off.

Silence falls between them once again. after a while Taemin's breaths even out, slowly getting into the rhythm of sleep.

Moonlight streams through the windows, the sounds of the street below seeming far away as they get carried away with the wind. Kibum sighs, he feels content; he hasn't felt like this in a long time.

"You make me forget too." He whispers into the night.

As he lays next to Taemin, he thinks again. Loving hurts, but right now, right here, it is worth it.

#The 007!AU no one needs #Taekey #One-Shot

12 notes · View notes

kasumi-chou · 6 years

Text

Magic in the Air

This is a small fic for the lovely @bibibingka as a part of a SS exchange I participated in! It was both fun and frustrating to write. I never realised just how out of practice i was of writing characters that aren’t Victor/Yuuri/Yurio until I started this fic!

AO3

Guang-Hong let out a breath that immediately turned to fog in front of his eyes as he watched the first snowfall of the season.

It was strange, being halfway across the world but still being able to witness the first natural snowfall of the season.

He still couldn’t quite believe it, he was actually here in America about to spend Winter with two of his best friends.

“Guang-Hong!” A voice called out, immediately catching his attention. He turned and smiled when he spotted a young man hurrying towards him, huddled in a jacket that seemed too large for him.

“Phichit!” he called out, trying his best to not jump up and down in his excitement in fear of slipping on the wet surface below his feet. He couldn’t help but laugh as the tanned male seemed to ignore the ground and charge straight into him, wrapping him up in a tight hug and sending them both tumbling to the ground.

“You’re finally here!” Phichit all but shouted in his ear while squeezing the life out of him. He let out a squeak of a laugh as he squeezed back.

“It is so good to see you!” Phichit sighed when they broke apart a few long moments later before they got to their feet, smiling brightly at each other as they did so.

He was actually here! In America, about to spend the winter with his two best friends, Phichit and Leo de la Iglesia.

Speaking of Leo, he threw a glance over Phichit’s shoulder, hoping to spot his missing best friend. He tried to hide his disappointment when he didn’t spot Leo standing off to the side, waiting for his turn to greet him.

Phichit seemed to let out a chuckle while throwing an arm across his shoulders and began pulling him along. He barely had the chance to grab his luggage as he was dragged away without warning.

“He’s not here. He didn’t manage to finish whatever his teacher has assigned him in time,” Phichit explained with a knowing smirk. He couldn’t help but blush in embarrassment at having been caught looking for his other best friend. It wasn’t exactly a secret – at least to Phichit – that he had a small crush on Leo.

“But don’t worry, he swore that he’ll meet us for dinner,” Phichit said while throwing a wink in his direction.

He opened his mouth, but whatever he had been about to ask escaped him as a small fluffy head poked out of the collar of Phichit’s jacket.

“Phawta!” he cooed at Phichit’s adorable familiar. The adorable clouded leopard blinked at him drowsily for a moment before letting out a small chirp in greeting.

“We’ve been so excited for you to get here that she tired herself out,” Phichit explained as he lifted a hand to gently scratch underneath the wild cats chin.

“Where is Zhen?” Phichit asked, seeming to look him up and down, searching for his own familiar.

He couldn’t help the blush that rose to his cheeks under his best friend’s gaze.

Familiars in his home country were a sacred thing, only meant to be revealed behind closed doors to family and lovers. In America, it was the opposite of his home land. Familiar were basically put on pedestals, shown off like prized pets rather than a physical projection of a person’s soul.

So, it had been rather frustrating to his two best friends about how secretive he was about his own familiar. It had taken months of skype calls after they meet for him to even reveal the name of his familiar, revealing her was still off the table for the time being anyway.

He dropped his gaze down to the messenger bag hanging at his side which held his familiar, who seemed fine, despite being thrown around slightly when Phichit had knocked him to the ground.

“Does she want to come out?” Phichit asked, seeming to notice where his gaze had floated to subconsciously. He quickly shook his head while turning his attention back to Phichit.

“N-no,” he answered quickly.

“Well, she is allowed to here if she wants too,” Phichit reminded him with a bright, cheerful smile on his face.

He nodded his head while wrapping a hand tightly around the strap that held Zhen securely at his side.

He still couldn’t believe it sometimes, that a person like Phichit was his friend, and Leo too.

They had all met in Beijing a few years back, having been seated together randomly at one of the shows of the famous summoner, Victor Nikiforov. His shows were few in numbers, and tickets sold like crazy, for what he understood, Victor hadn’t been to America in a number of years which had prompted Phichit and Leo’s sudden trip to China for the show.

The show had been taking a small intermission when he had overheard the pair that he now considered his best friends, questioning each other in English about the location of the nearest bathroom. Having been studying English for a number at years at that point, he had – what he had hoped was politely – butted into the conversation and told them where the closet bathroom was.

And everything after that was history. Apparently, he had been given immediate best friend stasis for helping the pair and hadn’t been able to shake that pair since then – not that he had really tried.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Phichit declared suddenly, “Let’s find something American to eat so I can snap Leo and torment him for not finishing his potions in time.”

“Okay?” he barely managed to mumble before Phichit speed up, pulling him along with him.

🐻🦁🐹🐶

“What?”

He gasped, staring at Phichit with wide eyes as the tanned male giggled from across the table.

“I know, right,” Phichit said while nodding his head.

“Yuuri?! Dating the Victor Nikiforov? Like, the famous summoner Victor Nikiforov?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yep,” Phichit giggled, nodding his head.

“How?” he questioned.

“Used his enchanter powers, clearly,” Phawta said from Phichit’s lap.

“He went home for the winter, and apparently Victor tracked him down and now they are dating,” Phichit explained to him, seeming way to giddy about the fact that Yuuri Katsuki – another one of Phichit’s friends that he had only spoke to a handful of times himself – was suddenly dating the world renown summoner.

“Tracked him down? Have the met before?” he questioned in confusion, causing Phichit to giggle again, “Oh dear,” he mumbled to himself, knowing exactly what they giggle meant.

“We went clubbing,” Phichit said brightly, “And Yuuri may or may not have had a drink too many.”

He opened his mouth to reply, only to jump in surprise as Zhen suddenly shifted in his messenger bag that was resting between his feet. He froze for a moment, feeling Zhen shift around into a more comfortable position before settling down again. He sighed to himself, ignoring the disappointed look that appeared on Phichit’s face as he returned to the piece of cake Phichit had gotten for him. It was full with enough sugar to give both his parents and teacher a heart attack if they knew he was eating it.

“He really shouldn’t be so surprised. He is an enchanter after all,” Phichit sighed while scooping up a spoonful of his own cake and popping it into his mouth.

In a world full of magic, it still fascinated him about how many different types of magic there were.

Magic to summon beast of legends like the summoner, Victor Nikiforov.

Magic that enchanted, seduced and tempted, which Yuuri possessed.

Magic to create potions to do anything and everything, that Leo could made.

Magic that manipulated reality that Phichit specialised in.

His own power seemed bored in comparison.

A simple Wu, or Shaman in the English language. Only able to heal, manipulate weather – only to a small degree – and to interpret dreams.

Nothing exciting, like being able to fool a person into walking in a continuous circle forever or creating a potion that could allow a person to breathe underwater.

He let out a small sigh as he shoved the rest of his cake into his mouth, chewing on it while staring across the table at Phichit.

“So, when are you and Leo hooking up?” Phichit questioned, causing the piece of cake he was trying to eat to get stuck in his throat. He lifted a hand to his mouth and coughed until his airway was free of sugary cake once again.

“Phichit!” he gasped in horror, causing the tanned male to burst into more delighted giggles at his response.

🐻🦁🐹🐶

He let out a small sigh as he kicked his shoes and wiggled his toes happily at the sudden freedom.

They had finally made it to Phichit’s place where he would be staying for the extent of his stay in America. Since Yuuri had decided to return home for the winter – and possibly longer depending on how his thing with the Victor Nikiforov went – his room was currently vacant. Yuuri had been generous enough to offer the room to him while he was away, which had been a huge relief on his holiday budget.

“Make yourself at home! You should be able to squeeze a nap in if you want!” Phichit declared while shrugging off his coat. Phawta seemed to just appear at Phichit’s feet, stretching her little paws out in front of her.

“If I nap, I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight,” he admitted as he shoved his luggage to the side and shifted to take his own jacket off. He bit back a smile as heard more than saw Zhen poke her nose out of the messenger back and sniffle the room curiously.

“I forgot about jetlag,” Phichit seemed to mumble under his breath while walking through the room. He watched as his friend seemed to talk across the room, flipping a switch here and pushing a button there. By the time Phichit plopped onto the couch, the television was on, the room was suddenly being filled with warm air and by the look of it, the internet might have been turned on if Phichit’s phone was anything to go by.

“Internet password is on the fridge. Help yourself to everything in the kitchen,” Phichit called out to him.

“Don’t touch the crispy seaweed strips!” Phawta declared rather loudly while settling on a nearby windowsill.

“Leo just messaged me, said he just needed to clean up and then he would be here,” Phichit finished off his list while throwing a smirk in his direction. He ducked his head in embarrassment as he fiddled with the strap of his messenger bag.

He glanced down at his clothes, wondering if he looked okay.

“Relax, you could be wearing anything and lover-boy would think you look nice,” his friend sighed dramatically, an obvious eye roll included in his statement.

“O-okay,” he mumbled, ducking his head in embarrassment.

🐻🦁🐹🐶

He stifled a yawn, blinking slowly at the television in front of him.

He couldn’t sleep now! It didn’t matter that the couch was ridiculously comfy and that Zhen had escaped the confounds of his messenger bag and managed to curl up under his shirt without being spotted. Sleeping now would screw his sleeping pattern. He only had to stay awake for a couple more hours. Just long enough to have dinner with Leo and Phichit.

He jolted suddenly as he felt a lightweight drape over him, he glanced up to see Phichit smiling down at him softly.

“I have ordered us some take out. You look ready to drop,” Phichit commented, patting him gently on the head. He let out a sigh while shaking his head to knock the tanned males hand away.

“We can go out!” he tried to insist, only to earn himself a raised eyebrow in response.

“You were almost asleep a moment ago,” he opened his mouth to protest, only to pause and perk up curiously as he heard the front door of the little apartment pop open.

“I brought food.” He couldn’t help the smile that rose to his lips at the all too familiar voice that came from the doorway. He quickly scrambled to his feet – almost tripping when his feet got slightly tangled in the blanket Phichit had thrown over him – and hurried towards the front door.

“Guang-Hong!” Leo called out to him, smiling brightly at him before he all but barrelled into the man.

“Leo,” he couldn’t help but sigh as he hugged his other best friend tightly.

“It feels like forever since we last saw each other,” Leo replied while squeezing him tightly back.

“We skyped not even twenty-four hours ago,” Phichit piped in from the background.

“Wasn’t talking to you,” Leo huffed, causing him to giggle in response. He pulled back and smiled brightly up at Leo.

He was actually here, in America with his two best friends.

“Did I hear the word food?” he questioned, earning himself an amused chuckle as he was handed two plastic bags.

“American Chinese,” Leo announced, causing him to spin around and glare at Phichit. The tanned – or most tanned seeing as Leo was also tanned in comparison to himself – only grinned at him from the back of the couch.

“You have to experience it, Guang-Hong,” Phichit declared.

Zhen let out a muffled snort from the pile of blankets where she had been left when he had scrambled to greet Leo. The sound seemed to startle Phichit, who jumped away from the couch like it was suddenly caught on fire. He giggled at Phichit’s reaction, only to grin brightly as Leo threw an arm over his shoulder.

Yeah, this felt right.

🐻🦁🐹🐶

Despite his best efforts, it did seem he wasn’t able to beat jetlag on his first night, finding himself awake a little after three in the morning.

He glanced around him for a moment before jolting upright, finally taking notice that he was in a bed, a bed he didn’t remember falling asleep in.

He remembered having dinner, seated between Leo and Phichit on the couch as the ate food that should in no way be called Chinese food.

It was both weird and exciting to be here with them, physically with them. Their whole friendship had been created online, firstly in a group chat which had quickly evolved into a group skype call.

“There is too much noise here,” Zhen mumbled suddenly as she wiggled her way out from the blankets that had pooled at his waist when he had jolted upright. He smiled as he opened his eyes to the beautiful red panda who climbed into his arms and nuzzled into his neck with a content sigh.

Zhen was classed as a rather boring familiar back in his homeland, but he didn’t care about the disappointed look his parents gave Zhen whenever they saw her. She was beautiful to him, from her little black nose all the way to her gorgeous striped tail.

“It sure is different,” he agreed softly while slowly dropping back down onto the bed.

“Make it rain,” Zhen suggested while pulling away from his hands to drape herself around his neck like a scarf, “That would quieten it down.”

“Too much effort,” he reminded his familiar, who huffed in response.

Controlling the weather was difficult. You had to factor in a number of things, from current temperature levels to the humidity level. It was impossible to just snap his fingers and change the weather from rainy to sunny.

“Interrupt their dreams,” Zhen suggested, flicking her tail to hit him in the face.

“That is rude and an invasion of privacy,” he pointed out while raising a hand to scratch behind her eat.

Zhen let out a hum as she accepted the pat happily, only to hit him in the face with her tail yet again.

“We could go try and pat Leo’s familiar,” Zhen sighed out, causing him to pause in surprise.

Pat Leo’s familiar? Physically touch Leo’s familiar?

The thought alone brought a deep blush to his cheeks. He couldn’t!

It didn’t matter that Daniel – Leo’s familiar – looked like the softest, fluffiest cloud with his winter coat. He wouldn’t dare touch the male arctic hare without Leo’s permission.

What if he saw something he wasn’t meant too? What if he found out Leo had a crush on someone else? What if-

“But he looks so fluffy,” Zhen sighed, hitting him in the face again. He huffed as he captured the striped tail in his hand and gently dragged his hand down it, directing it away from his face as he did so.

“No,” he stated simply, earning a dramatic sigh in response.

“You suck,” Zhen huffed.

“We suck,” he corrected, earning a defeated sigh in response from his familiar.

“We don’t suck,” Zhen told him while curling around his neck perfectly.

He let his eyes slide shut, as he tugged the blankets up to his shoulders and let the sound of the city attempt to lull his jetlagged mind back to sleep.

🐻🦁🐹🐶

Guang-Hong couldn’t help but giggle as he stumbled forwards with Leo’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, listening to Phichit screech from behind them.

It was barely nine in the morning, but they were all awake and ready for the day.

Since the moment he announced holidaying in America for the winter, Phichit had created a list of things that the three friends had to do, a list that had to be started that day, his first official day in Detroit.

Phichit had begun giving them a list of things he had wanted to do today, only for Leo to declare half way through the list, that he had already organised for them to go to a cat café for lunch, something that seemed to ruin all of Phichit’s plans for the day.

Despite the rather chilly weather, the city still seemed alive.

People were everywhere, hurrying along in their own little world.

Unlike in China, it was easy to tell who possessed magic. Familiars were plastered by their owner’s side, many big and bright and eye-catching.

He let out a gasp while grabbing onto Leo’s jacket and tugging on it.

“Is that a reindeer?” he questioned, pointing towards a large deer like creature with huge antlers. Leo seemed to chuckle at his excitement before letting out a hum.

“Looks like it,” Leo seemed to say before he noticed Phichit’s snickering from behind them.

He felt a blush heat up his cheeks as he quickly let go of Leo’s jacket and shoved his heads into his pockets in embarrassment.

“Have you never seen a reindeer?” Phichit questioned while finally catching up to them. He shook his head in response, trying to be subtle as he stared at the reindeer that stood outside a store, standing tall and proud.

“It is so big,” he mumbled in awe, which caused his two best friends to laugh. He let out a huff at the pair and ducked his head lower.

He blinked as he noticed Daniel hopping barely a foot in front of him. He stared down at the hare, wondering how he hadn’t notice how close he was to kicking the fluffy bunny every time he took a step.

“So, we can cross off Guang-Hong having a panda,” Phichit giggled, catching his attention.

“What?” he questioned, blinking at the pair, “A panda?”

“Phichit thought that maybe you had a panda familiar and that is why you didn’t show it off,” Leo explained.

“An adorable panda to cuddle, it sounds perfect for you,” Phichit declared.

“I think,” he stared, glancing between his friends confused, “I think you would have already realised if I had a panda.”

“We were teasing,” Phichit huffed, nudging their shoulders together.

“How do people live with big familiars?” he questioned the pair, earning a baffled look from the pair.

“Don’t know,” Leo stated simply.

“Practice?” Phichit said slowly and hesitantly.

“Oh,” he mumbled, finally realising how stupid his question probably sounded.

“Now, the cat café,” Leo butted in.

“Why?” Phichit huffed, causing him to chuckle as the pair seemed to argue between themselves for a moment in quick English that he couldn’t quite keep up with.

Suddenly, the breath in his lungs seemed to freeze. He came to a halt and glance upwards, staring up at the sky for a moment before he felt something nudge against his leg curiously.

“Guang-Hong?” a small voice questioned, finally breaking his gaze from the sky.

“Oh, um,” he said, glancing in front of him to see Leo and Phichit staring at him with raised eyebrows, “We should get under cover,” he suggested suddenly. The pair stared at him for a moment longer before shrugging and waving him over. He hurried back to his friends, grabbing a hold of their arms and pulling them to the nearest covered area.

It was almost immediately after they were covered the sky opened up. Rain, cold rain quickly started falling all around them.

“Wow,” Phichit mumbled while bring out his phone to document the moment as he stood pressed against the wall with Leo next him – Daniel was now cradled in Leo’s arms, his adorable little feet visible as he hung limply in his owner’s arms.

“You felt it?” Leo questioned.

“Yes?” he replied hesitantly.

“How? Did someone else do it or?” Leo questioned, trailing off and staring at him with a curious look on his feet. He felt his cheeks heat up – or heat up more, he couldn’t be sure if the blush had settled down from the earlier teasing from his friends.

“No,” he says, shaking his head, “I mean, it’s pretty easy to tell when someone does manipulate the weather, but I sort of just… felt it?”

“Felt it?” Leo questioned.

“The humidity increased which normally means rain or snow and since the temperature didn’t change it meant it was going to snow,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders as he turned to look at the sky. A shiver ran down his spine, causing him to pull his jacket tighter around him in an attempt to keep himself warm.

“You could tell all that?” Leo questioned, sounding impressed.

“Yeah?” he replied with a shrug.

“That’s incredible!” his friend gushed, causing him to pause. How was that incredible?

“Didn’t you say you could also interpret dreams?” Phichit suddenly piped up while colliding into his side and wrapping him in a tight hug.

“Yes?” he replied hesitantly.

“Do me!” Phichit demanded, smiling brightly at him.

“What does that mean? Interpret dreams?” Leo questioned.

“Um, I-I can see what a person is dreaming about. And, um, certain things can be translated?” he tried to explain with a shrug.

“Guang,” Phichit whined, “Do me!”

“I can’t,” he mumbled, “It’s better to do it when someone is asleep or have just woken up.”

“That’s so cool,” Leo mumbled, “I just make potions.”

“Potions are cool!” he quickly stated, earning a giggle from Phichit that seemed to grow his already red cheeks.

“Not really,” Leo mumbled with a shrug.

“You can make people breath underwater or fall in love! I can tell when it is going to rain or if someone is having a wet dream,” he pointed out, earning a deep chuckle from Phichit.

“Wet dream, huh?” Phichit cooed in his ear, causing him to quickly pull away from the Thai boy and hurrying to the opposite side of Leo.

“Phichit’s being mean,” he whined, looking up at Leo with big round eyes in hopes that he would get some backup.

Instead he received the most breathing-taking laugh he had ever heard.

Life was sometimes so unfair.

🐻🦁🐹🐶

“Look!”

He couldn’t help but gasp as he held up the tiny kitten that stumbled into his lap not moments ago.

He couldn’t believe it! He was in a cat café and everything was amazing.

There were cats everywhere and more and more kept coming up to him, meowing for attention.

It was amazing.

“Guang-Hong, smile!” He blinked at his name before flashing a shy smile at Phichit who quickly began snapping photos of him with a lapful of cats and kittens.

He jolted in surprise as a cat jumped onto his shoulders, purring happily and nuzzling against his head, after only a moment he finally realised that it wasn’t any old cat perched on his shoulders, but Phawta.

“She’s jealous,” Phichit called out, earning a hiss of dismay from Phawta.

“You’re jealous too,” Phawta stated before nuzzling against his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

He sat there for a little while longer, giving attention to all the cats and kittens that approached him before finally dragging himself off the ground and towards the table that Leo was situated at. He paused beside the table, staring at the large milkshake that was situated in the middle of the table, with cream and chunks of chocolate placed on top.

“You okay over here?” he asked while taking a seat beside Leo.

“Oh, yeah,” Leo said with a nod, “Cat’s just don’t… like me?” Leo supplied with a small smile.

“But,” he mumbled, “You organised this?”

“Because you said you like cats,” Leo explained. He blinked at his best friends whose cheeks seemed to turn red at his confession. “Oh, I got you a drink,” Leo mumbled, pushing the milkshake from the middle of the table towards him. He couldn’t help but smile in delight as he grabbed the handle and took a sip, humming in delight at the over-sugary drink.

At this rate, he was going to go home fat with how sugary and delicious everything in America was.

“Oh, lovebirds, smile!” Phichit called out, causing him to turn towards Phichit with a dark blush on his cheeks.

“Phichit!” he shrieked in embarrassment.

The giggle that left Phichit’s lips felt familiar, almost like he had heard it multiple times that day or something. He covered his face in embarrassment and ducked his head down.

He was beginning to hate Phichit and his teasing.

🐻🦁🐹🐶

“I’m off guys.”

He blinked in confusion while glancing over the back of the couch, where he was seated with Leo, watching some American show that he didn’t understand.

Phichit was standing at the front door, dressed extremely nicely as he slipped on his winter coat.

“Where you going?” he questioned as Phawta appeared on Phichit’s shoulder, an adorable bow wrapped around her neck.

“Ah, date night with mystery man?” Leo questioned, causing him to look at the male beside him in confusion.

Date night? Mystery man? What was going on?

Leo raised an eyebrow at him before glancing back to Phichit.

“You didn’t tell him?” Leo questioned.

“I’m off, don’t wait up for me!” Phichit said suddenly, blowing them a kiss before hurrying out of the apartment before any more words could be exchanged.

He shifted around to face Leo, who was staring at the door in confusion.

“Explain,” he demanded, a pout on his lips. Leo turned to him and gave him a soft smile.

“Ah, he met some guy and has been sort of seeing him,” Leo explained.

“Sort of?” he questioned, “Does he dress up that nicely for ‘sort of’?”

Leo stared at him before shrugging in response. He huffed while settling back into the couch, facing the television to try and finish the episode they were watching.

He couldn’t believe that Phichit was seeing someone. Okay, that wasn’t what he couldn’t believe. He couldn’t believe that Phichit hadn’t told him.

He thought they told each other everything.

“Want to go get ice cream?” Leo asked, causing him to blink and finally take notice that the episode had finished while he had been pouting over Phichit.

“Yes,” he answered all too quickly, jumping to his feet and hurrying to get his jacket, shoes and Zhen.

American ice cream was amazing.

🐻🦁🐹🐶

“Tell me!”

He demanded the next morning as Phichit finally stumbled out of his room, a rather obvious hickey visible on his neck.

“Tell you what?” Phichit questioned while making a beeline for the coffee machine.

It was a strange contraption that both Leo and Phichit seemed obsessed with. Had neither of them heard of tea or something?

He had been appalled on his first morning here to find out that the apartment didn’t have tea at first glance. Thankfully, Phichit had gone through Yuuri’s hidden stash of food and found a large tin of decent green tea.

“About mystery man!” he demanded in a huff.

Phichit continued to fiddled with the coffee machine until it gurgled to life – no, seriously, gurgled like some drowning beast. Phichit left the machine gurgling while walking over to join him at the adorable little circular dining table.

“We met at a gay bar,” Phichit stated simply.

“Wait,” he said softly, tilting to his head to the side in confusion, “I thought the drinking-”

“Drinking age is twenty-one,” Phichit confirmed.

“Gay bar?” he questioned in confusion, earning a nod.

“Yep. It’s call a fake id,” Phichit said, winking at him. He sat there, sipping his tea for a moment before letting out a small hum.

“So, where is lover-boy?” Phichit questioned, glancing around.

“Leo,” he corrected, “went home last night. Saying something about needing to change clothes.”

“I see. So, you two didn’t bang or anything while I was gone?” Phichit questioned, causing him to choke on his drink in surprise. He all but slammed his mug into the table, coughing harshly.

It took a moment for him to catch his breath again.

“Phichit!” he gasped in horror, earning a delighted giggle from the boy.

“A-at-at least I don’t have a huge hickey on my neck,” he declared. Phichit paused before slowly rising a hand to his neck.

“No,” Phichit mumbled to himself before bolting from his seat and stumbling across the room to a mirror that was hanging on the wall.

He bit back a smile as Phichit groaned in dismay while staring at his neck.

“God damn it,” Phichit all but whined while turning back to him, “How am I meant to hide this?”

He gave a shrug in response while picking up his mug of tea again and taking a sip.

“Innocent my ass,” Phichit huffed while turning back to the mirror.

“So, what’s his name?” he questioned. Phichit was silent, simply touching the mark on his neck before letting out a rather dramatic sigh.

“Seung-gil,” Phichit said in a soft tone. It almost sounded like Phichit had sighed the name with how softly it had been spoken.

“What type of magic does he do?” he questioned.

“He’s a mentalist. It’s both so frustrating and fascinating. My illusions don’t work on him,” Phichit declared while turning away from the mirror and walking back to the table.

“Don’t… work?” he questioned.

“He just always knows. It’s like he feels around everyone’s minds constantly, and that is how he can gauge if what he is seeing is real or not,” Phichit sighed while slumping into the back of his chair, “He’s… like no one I’ve ever met.”

“It sounds like you two are a pair made in heaven,” he commented, hoping that he had gotten the English phrase right.

“Oh god no,” Phichit laughed, shaking his head, “I’d say the complete opposite. We are so different and I think that is why it works.”

He opened his mouth to ask another question, only to be cut off by a round of knocks on the front door. Phichit got to his feet and answered the door, which revealed Leo. Leo stood in the doorway with Daniel poking out of his winter jacket, hair tousled and sprinkled with snowflakes.

If he wasn’t sure of his sexuality at this point, he was pretty sure he could confirm it now.

He was gay. Gay for one of his best friends.

🐻🦁🐹🐶

“A carnival?”

Phichit nodded his head at his question while typing away on his phone.

“Yeah! You’ve heard of a carnival, right?” Phichit questioned. He turned his gaze to Leo, who looked at Phichit before rolling his eyes. He giggled in response before smiling innocently as Phichit finally looked up from his phone.

“Right?” Phichit questioned again while eyeing him closely.

“It’s sort of like a festival, right?” he replied, only to bite back a giggle as Phichit returned to his phone.

Almost as soon as they had finished the breakfast that Leo had brought with him – a breakfast of sugary pastries, he was beginning to think Leo enjoyed feeding him – Phichit had been rather distracted by his phone.

It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out why though, with the smile plastered on their friend’s lips and the blush that seemed to appear randomly every now and then.

“Sort of,” Leo hummed, “There is lots of games and children’s rides and stuff.”

He nodded his head slowly, thinking he understood it.

“We can go on a ferris wheel together!” Phichit gasped suddenly, startling him and almost causing him to drop his new mug of tea.

“Or you could go on it with your mystery man,” Leo piped in. Phichit immediately pouted, causing both Leo and himself to giggle in delight at their friend’s adorable reaction.

Phichit – never one to lose – quickly turned to him, his pout replaced with a smirk.

“Or, you know, you two could go together.” He ducked in his head in embarrassment, hiding behind his mug in a poor attempt at hiding himself.

“I’m not very good with heights,” Leo stated.

“Fine, the love tunnel than,” Phichit suggested. He glanced up slightly, firstly at Phichit – who was smirking at Leo – and then to Leo – whose cheeks were tinted a lovely shade of red.

“What’s ‘the love tunnel’?” he questioned meekly, quickly turning Phichit’s smirk on himself.

“It’s a boat ride which couples and people in love ride. Completely romantic,” Phichit ensured him.

“Phichit! Don’t be mean,” Leo said suddenly, seeming to kick Phichit’s chair and cause the older male to burst into giggles.

“You two are so easy to tease,” Phichit laughed before getting to his feet and leaving the table, humming happily to himself.

He watched Phichit leave before turning to Leo, catching the other male looking at him.

He didn’t know who looked away first, but he was pretty sure Leo’s cheeks were just as red as his when they finally looked away.

🐻🦁🐹🐶

“You can win toys?” he gasped while turning to his two best friends with wide eyes.

He didn’t care that both of them laughed at him because he was going to get a teddy bear tonight even if it was the last thing he did.

“Yeah,” Leo said, nodding his head, “Do you want me to win you one?”

He couldn’t help but nod his head in excitement before all but jumping on Leo.

“Nawwwww, look at that,” Phichit said, clearly trying to be a tease – how he had gone so long without realising just how much of a tease Phichit was beyond him.

“I don’t see you promising to win anything,” Leo replied, causing Phichit to shrug his shoulders in response.

“It’s too easy,” Phichit stated simply while walking towards one of the van type things that seemed to be selling food.

“Easy?” he questioned, letting go of Leo to hurry after Phichit. As much as he wanted a teddy bear, food seemed like a good thing to start with.

“Phichit cheats,” Leo commented while catching up with them.

“I do not,” Phichit gasped.

“He uses magic,” Leo whispered, causing Phichit to huff in response.

“It works like that?” he questioned curiously.

“What? Twisting reality to make it seem I’m in front of the counter when I’m behind it?” Phichit said, shrugging his shoulders in response.

“Cheating,” Leo repeated.

“They are scammers anyway,” Phichit replied simply. He frowned and glanced towards Leo in confusion.

“A lot of the games, you can’t actually win,” Leo explained, patting his shoulder in response.

“Why not?” he questioned with a frown.

“Because they are scammers,” Phichit stated, not exactly answering his question.

“Don’t… they have like, magic detectors or something?” he asked, glancing up at Leo for answers. His friend simply shrugged his shoulders in response.

“They are rather expensive here, so I doubt it,” Leo told him.

“Welcome to America,” Phichit said while pushing his way to the front of the line to order some food. He stood with Leo, looking around curiously.

It didn’t take him long to spot the exact teddy bear he wanted to take home with him that night.

Handing up at the front of the stall was a large plain teddy bear with big fluffy ears.

“Guang-Hong?”

He blinked in surprise before glancing down to see Daniel huddled between his feet, ears twitching up at him curiously.

“Hi,” he mumbled hesitantly, still not use to actually talking to another person’s familiar. He couldn’t help but bite his bottom lip as the hare twitched its nose up at him, making his little whiskers move.

“Did you see something you wanted?” the hare questioned while hunching up onto its hind legs to try and see what he was staring at.

“N-no! I mean, yes,” he stuttered out.

“Yes or no?” Daniel questioned, only to be cut off as Phichit appeared in front of them, arms full of food.

“Got to love carnival food,” Phichit hummed while shoving a stick into his hand that held some sort of round thing.

“It’s a potato,” Phichit informed him, causing him to frown in confusion. The thing at the end of his stick did not look like a potato.

“A deep-fried potato,” Phichit added, grinning at him before diving into some roll with meat in the middle.

American food was strange, but also rather delicious most of the time – so he hesitantly took a bite out of the ‘potato’ that had been given to him.

He blinked as he carefully chewed on the mouthful before smiling in delight at the crunchy yet soft potato.

“Wow!” he gasped before taking another bite, only to earn amused laughs from both his friends.

He really needed to look for more friends, maybe ones that didn’t laugh at him this time.

🐻🦁🐹🐶

“You really want that teddy bear, don’t you?”

He left out a huff as he threw his last ball that he was holding at the pile of bottles in front of him, only to let out a frustrated whine when only the top bottle toppled over.

Sure, he wasn’t the most active person, but he still knew how to throw a ball and hit things. How had he only hit the top bottle?

He just wanted the teddy bear! He didn’t care how obvious his attempts now were.

“Guang-Hong.” He glanced up at the call of his name.

“What?” he mumbled, totally not pouting.

“Let me try,” Leo offered, causing him to squint at his best friend for a moment.

“No,” he replied simply while digging into his bag for more money to try again.

“Hey! If I win, you can keep the prize,” Leo said while grabbing his hand, “Just one try!”

He eyed his friend carefully for a moment, totally not still pouting before letting out a sigh.

“One,” he mumbled, crossing his arms across his chest.

Leo smiled before quickly turning to the person in charge of the game and paying for one round. He moved out of the way so Leo could line himself up, shifting on his feet as he watched Leo roll one of the three balls he had gotten in his hands.

He blinked as Leo glanced towards him before flashing him a bright smile – a beautiful smile that set his cheeks alight – before throwing the ball.

He heard a stuttered gasp, which drew his attention away from Leo’s smile and to the pile of bottles – or at least where the bottles had been.

He couldn’t help but gape as he saw the bottles on the ground, all of them on the ground.

“What-how-” the person in charge of the game stuttered out.

“I’d like the big teddy bear, please,” Leo said, pointing at the teddy bear he had had his eyes on since the moment he saw it.

The bear was taken off its shelf and handed over to Leo – with a rather disgruntled look from the person in charge of the game.

He smiled and clapped his hands at Leo’s accomplishment before letting out a gasp as the bear was shoved into his arms, blocking his view of everything in front of him.

“For you,” Leo said.

He smiled as he hugged the bear tightly and nuzzled into it, feeling the soft fabric against his skin. He was totally going to send this home, there was no way he was leaving it behind.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, hoping he was loud enough for Leo to hear from behind the teddy.

🐻🦁🐹🐶

“When did we lose Phichit?” he questioned as he walked beside Leo, humming a soft tune under his breath.

After Leo had won the bear for him, they had gone around and gotten some more food before stopping to watch a few of the magic shows.

There had been a few amusing enough shows, but it hadn’t taken long for them to drift away from the carnival and begin to walk around the surrounding park areas that the carnival was next too.

“I think it was after your eighth game attempt,” Leo said while adjusting the teddy on his back.

He couldn’t help but smile to himself whenever he looked at the teddy, because Leo had won it for him.

“I think he saw mystery man,” Leo hummed, causing him to snap his attention back to his friend.

“What!?” he gasped, grabbing a hold of Leo’s jacket and pulling him to a stop, “We have to go back!”

“No,” Leo laughed while shaking his head in response, “Let him have his night with his mystery man.”

“Leo,” he whined, throwing a pout in, “How often do we get something to hold over Phichit?”

“Just… stay with me a bit longer,” Leo mumbled, causing him to pause.

“Stay?” he questioned softly, tilting his head to the side as Leo shifted around so they were facing each other.

“Yeah,” Leo mumbled with a shrug of his shoulders, “I just, want to spend the night with you.”

He stared at his best friend for a long moment, feeling his heart start to pound in his chest.

Was Leo saying this because he liked him? Or was it because they didn’t get to spend much time together as friends?

Leo couldn’t like him, right? Why else would Leo be refusing to meet eye contact with him.

He took a deep breath while clenching his arms at his side.

“I LIKE YOU!” he shouted before pushing himself up onto his tippy toes and pushing his lips into Leo’s in what he hoped could be a kiss.

He’d done it, finally done it. He had admitted his crush and kissed him. He could now disappear in a hole forever now.

He pulled away quickly and all but dropped into a crouch, burying his face into his hands in embarrassment.

He waited, expecting to hear Leo walk away, instead there was silence.

He heard a breathless chuckle come from Leo before his hands were gently pulled away from his face, uncovering his eyes and revealing Leo, crouched down in front of him.

There was a light blush on Leo’s cheeks, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the weather or not.

“Can’t I see my boyfriend’s face?” Leo asked softly, letting go of one of his hands to brush a strand of hair out of his face.

“Boy-boyfriend?” he squeaked, earning a soft chuckle in response.

“Yes, boyfriend,” Leo said, nodding his head before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips.

A kiss he happily returned.

Until he realised Leo had dropped his teddy on the ground.

🐻🦁🐹🐶

“Ah!”

He gasped while gently letting go of Leo’s hand and hurrying to take off the messenger bag draped over his shoulder.

“Hold this!” he all but demanded, shoving the bag the held Zhen into Leo’s hand before hurrying towards the shop that was displaying bags of all sizes.

He had been using the same bag that held Zhen for ages and she always seemed rather squished in it.

He stumbled a step in his hurry, noticing that Daniel had kept at his heels while Leo had stood there frozen.

He wandered around the shop, checking a number of bags before finding it.

It looked like a messenger bag but the tag on the inside read satchel. He opened the main flap of the bag and smiled at just how much room the inside gave.

He hurried to purchase it before returning to his boyfriend’s side.

“What did you get?” Leo questioned.

“A new bag for Zhen!” he explained while holding the bag up.

“Oh,” Leo hummed, smiling down at him sweetly. It was an adorable smile that he couldn’t help but lean up and kiss shyly.

They stood there a moment, blushing before he cleared his throat.

“Can you open that bag,” he instructed, earning a blank look from Leo before he glanced down at the bag he was holding.

“This bag?” Leo seemed to question, looking at him confused.

“Yes,” he nodded while opening up the new bag. Leo seemed to stand there for a moment before finally opening up the bag the held Zhen.

At the open invitation, Zhen sprung from the bag, quickly jumping to his shoulder and shaking herself off.

He couldn’t help but smile shyly as he heard Leo gasp in surprise.

“Wow,” Leo mumbled, arms going slack with the now empty bag in his hands.

“Um,” he said, rising a hand to scratch Zhen under the chin, “This is Zhen,” he introduced the red panda perched on his shoulder.

“Pretty,” Daniel said while pressing into the side of his leg. He blinked and glanced down to see Daniel on his hind legs, looking up at Zhen with his little nose twitching adorably.

Zhen let out one of her soft barks before diving into the new bag he was holding open.

“Cold,” Zhen declared in English for them all too hear. He giggled as his familiar’s statement while draping her over his shoulder before reaching over to grab Leo’s hand.

Leo squeezed his hand before suddenly leaning down and pressing a kiss against his cheek.

He couldn’t help but smile brightly up at his boyfriend – Boyfriend! – while tugging him along, letting them continue their walk down the street.

#yoi #yuri on ice #leo de la iglesia #guang hong ji #leoji #phichit chulanont #seung gil lee #seungchuchu #background victuuri #magic au #writing prompt

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sapphicscholar · 6 years

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A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who has stuck with the story all the way through, especially to everyone who commented or messaged me! Your words of encouragement never failed to make me smile! I know I’ve gotten a few asks about what’s next. Right now I’ve been posting a Carol AU, though I know Sanvers isn’t a main pairing in that one. The next multi-chapter work with a Sanvers slow burn (gotta love the slow burn) is going to be a political AU. I’m trying to pace myself and hold off on posting the first chapter until at least mid-January in the hopes that I’ll have the first few chapters at least drafted by then, but we’ll see if I get impatient! If anyone is here for Supercat, though, I’d love your thoughts on the Carol AU as well. Hope you all had a safe and happy New Year!

Chapter Text:

“Dr. McKenna, might I have the pleasure of a dance?”

Alex looked up, letting a small smile curl up the sides of her mouth at the sight of Jack Martino, one of the partners from the firm where she’d been working as a paralegal for the last two months. Even she could admit that he looked rather dashing in a full tuxedo, a few locks of his wavy dark hair falling down into his eyes as he bowed slightly in front of her, right hand extended.

“I suppose there’s no harm in a dance,” Alex teased, letting herself be led to the dancefloor in the middle of the large ballroom the firm had booked for their annual end-of-year celebration.

“You really do look stunning tonight,” Jack murmured, his mouth by her ear as he moved them in position to dance properly.

“You clean up well too, Martino.” He grinned and spun her out, drawing her back into his chest and letting his hand fall to its place on her lower back.

“Oh but we already knew that,” he laughed—a rich, deep sound that seemed to fill the air and drew the eyes of several of the other dancers to them. Alex couldn’t help but notice how many of them looked curious—some, a little envious too. But soon enough her attention returned to two of the other partners who had been her targets for the past couple of months. As they made their way around the floor, Alex watched and waited for them to move from their seats at the head table. Now that dessert had been served, it was only a matter of time, and truth be told, Alex was looking forward to returning home to National City. The work had been interesting, but the hours were long—better suited for single, young people with few responsibilities and the energy to bound in each morning on only a few hours of sleep and enough espresso to power a small motor vehicle.

“Are the partners giving a toast tonight?” Alex asked, biting back a satisfied grin at the sight of her team moving into first position. The thrill of taking down the bad guys was the one part of her job that she’d never tired of, even all these years later.

The arrival of another woman in a floor-length black gown cut off Jack’s answer. “Mind if I cut in?”

“I suppose I really can’t deny you a proper dance with your wife,” Jack said, raising Alex’s hand to his mouth and barely pressing his lips to her knuckles before stepping back. “And if you ever want to tell me how it is you lure Marina to these events, it might be nice to finally have Kevin by my side.”

“Mm, I don’t know how work appropriate that answer would be,” Alex mused, grinning at Jack’s loud laugh.

“Sneaky! Though I suppose if you ever get to meet Kevin outside of our little dinners, you’ll know just what I had to do.” With a dip of his head, Jack made his way back to the table, figuring perhaps the senior partners could do with a push of encouragement to get the toast on the way. After all, Harold already looked like he was just a drink or two away from passing out in the middle of the dancefloor…again.

Alex let herself be spun out once more as they found their way into a rhythm with the new song and edged closer and closer to the back entrance to the hall.

“Where are you two off to this early?” Harold asked, his voice loud and his words slurring together. “You wouldn’t want to miss the gift bags!”

Laughing softly, Alex agreed, “No, no, wouldn’t want to miss the end-of-year bonuses in there at all. We just need to…freshen up.” She let her hand dip lower on her wife’s back, skirting the line between affectionate and suggestive as her team began spreading out, pairs of “caterers” moving toward each of the entrances and other undercover attendees skirting around to the partners’ table where Green and Blackwell of Blackwell, Green, Jules, and Associates were slowly beginning to make their exit.

“Oh, right you are,” he laughed, winking without the slightest care for subtlety before stumbling back to the open bar.

“Perimeter secure. Vans detained,” crackled a voice in Alex’s ear, and with a firm nod, she watched her team slide seamlessly into action, moving to intercept the partners on their way to the back exit and swiftly carrying away the table of gift bags full of laundered money.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed one of the junior partners who’d only been hired in the past week reaching to pull something strapped to his waist. “Gun!” she yelled, flinging herself forward and tackling him to the ground, watching as the weapon went skidding across the floor, finally stopped by a stilettoed foot.

“Always on your 6, babe,” Maggie said with a grin as she reached down and picked up the gun, pointing it at their newest arrestee as Alex read him his rights and secured his hands behind his back with twist ties that she pulled as discreetly as possible from inside her dress.

---

“Good work, agents,” J’onn commended them as they stepped into the DEO after their flight back to National City.

“She’s still not one of yours,” Kate corrected him, pulling Maggie in for a hug. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, squeezing Maggie just a little tighter.

“Ah yes, the joys of enforced collaboration.” Kate just barely bit back a laugh as she shook her head and let go of Maggie.

“Not our fault we’re so perfect as a team,” Alex murmured, drawing Maggie back and kissing her soundly.

“Would be a shame to let this perfect chemistry go to waste,” Maggie agreed.

“If anyone is interested in an actual report…” J’onn cleared his throat, waiting until all eyes had returned to him. “Thanks to months of work, we were able to apprehend Brenda Green and William Blackwell, as well as their team of associates, and have helped to find temporary shelter for the aliens they were trafficking.”

“And my end-of-year bonus?” Alex asked, fluttering her eyelashes and giving J’onn her most innocent smile.

“Has tragically been confiscated for a federal investigation,” he deadpanned.

Once the debriefing ended, Alex led Maggie outside and over to her motorcycle. “Up for a little adventure?”

“With you? Always.”

With a wink, Alex threw her leg over the saddle and motioned for Maggie to get on behind her. “Hold on tight.” And she did, as Alex zig-zagged through traffic—a bit more cautious these days, but still fast enough that Maggie felt a thrill run through her as she clung even more tightly to Alex’s waist.

Maggie’s face lit up as they pulled into a parking spot outside of Julie’s, a small diner that was really just a converted rowhome that served some of the best coffee and stuffed French toast in National City. It also happened to be the same place they’d gone after returning from each and every mission.

“Hey there!” Emma, Julie’s daughter and the newest proprietor, called out, waving to them. “Sit wherever you’d like.”

Tangling her fingers in Maggie’s, Alex dragged them over to the corner table right by the window. “For tradition,” she whispered, taking her usual seat.

“I guess that means you know what today is too, huh?”

“Ten years.”

“And two days.”

“Not my fault the partners pushed back the end-of-year party,” Alex huffed.

“Not in the slightest. We still had our fun on the day of…”

Alex’s eyes fluttered closed and a flush of warmth spread through her whole body, tingling all the way down to her fingers and toes as she thought back to how they’d spent that night. “Yes, yes we did.”

“I’m glad we finally pulled our heads out of our asses and made it work,” Maggie added, her tone suddenly serious.

Alex shook her head; she still wasn’t sure how they had possibly thought that they’d be able to walk away. Of course, it did seem to be part of the job—losing people, being abandoned and abandoning them in turn, watching relationships crumble from afar. But it had been different with Maggie from the start.

After finally healing up from their showdown with Cadmus—a process made significantly more enjoyable by Maggie’s near-constant presence as they shuffled back and forth between their two apartments—they’d both found themselves assigned to new tasks. Maggie boarded a plane for DC, while Alex piled into a van with a team of agents and trundled off to Colorado, and they promised to remember each other fondly. But it wasn’t like losing people in the way she was used to doing. She was still competent and capable, but she never felt like she was at her best anymore. Her team worked well enough together, but her heart wasn’t in it. And by the time she got back to National City once more, she still hadn’t stopped missing Maggie, feeling like a part of her had been wrenched away. And for weeks, she’d gone over to Maggie’s apartment once a night, knocking on the door and feeling her heart break a little each time her knock went unanswered. Until finally, an absolutely exhausted, jetlagged Maggie swung the door open, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. And they both knew they needed to talk, needed to figure out what it was they were doing. But in that moment, all that mattered was feeling Maggie’s lips on hers once more, holding the other woman in her arms again. She got her first full night’s sleep in two months, and the next morning she brought Maggie down to Julie’s where they finally talked, putting everything that could be said aloud in a public location out on the table as they brainstormed possible solutions. In the end, it was Kate who finally suggested a more permanent inter-agency partnership. She maintained that she still steadfastly loathed the DEO—and Alex was fairly certain that, as an organization, she really did—but, as she put it, “I can’t have my best agent out there moping around like a lovesick puppy.”

“I think the whole getting our heads out of our asses thing has pretty much been our motto from the start,” Alex laughed, thanking Emma as she set down their two coffees, already knowing their order by heart.

“Kara said as much in her toast at the wedding.”

“Better than Winn’s hashtag…what was it, idiots in love?”

Maggie nearly snorted into her coffee. “Glad we didn’t put that on the invitations.”

#undercover(s)#epilogue #fanfic #supergirl #sanvers #alex x maggie #alex danvers #maggie sawyer #spy au #fluff #idiots in love #ao3feed

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akiyamapining · 6 years

Text

I HAVE A THOUGHT

Okay I’m like, exhausted. Haven’t really slept in like, four days. I’m at the point where I just KNOW I’m tired but I just don’t FEEL tired and I’ve been thinkin. Hear me out, it’s probably impossible. I blame my tired brain.

Luffy's Gear Second speeds up his blood, which in turn speeds up his body, he's tecchnically moving at speeds faster than much of the world around him with no mental jetlag, and only few physical repercussions (it strainss his heart, I don't care if he's made of rubber, that shit is dangerous!!). But like, hear me out, I might just be really tired and coming up with stupid shit, but like, if Luffy Awakens his Devil Fruit, if at all possible for him, what if it's just like activating Gear Two.

But instead of just gaining a speed boost, ot allows him to go so fast he travels through time??? Or gains an ability akin to the Instant Transmission technique from Dragon Ball Z???

Really, logic does NOT apply to Luffy, at all. He has gone into situations that have the odds SO stacked against him it’s not funny, but usually comes out on top! He’s a favorite of Lady Luck, has almost died like… 15 times, was fucking TORTURED as a child by a nasty, rotten pirate who didn’t care what he did because obviouSLY THE END JUSTIFIES THE MEANS, was RESCUED from CERTAIN DEATH by his CHILL FOSTER DAD™(Shanks), has managed to turn ENEMIES into ALLIES, not once but like DOZENS of times, rose to infamy in like… threeeeeeish months, survived his abusive freak of a grandfather (I love Garp, I really do, but that is NOT how you show love, and that is NOT how you treat a child. HE NEARLY KILLED LUFFY OVER A DOZEN TIMES USING THE EXCUSE OF “Training him to be an upstanding marine”! If anything, I think that Garp made Luffy begin to doubt becoming a marine, thought about it with a simple “I’ll have to listen to commands, and it’s a robbery of freedom”, but wasn’t about to abandon the option, because he still loved his grandpa and wanted to make him proud. Shanks and his stories of his grand adventures as a pirate merely allowed Luffy to harbor and grow that doubt into a hard-as-diamond belief.), stopped the civil war in Alabasta because WOW VIVI IS DISTRESSED LET’S NOT, broke into Impel Down, got terribly poisoned, was given the option to be cured but the cure was ALMOST just as deadly as the poison itself, went through TERRIBLE pain, and came out VICTORIOUS, albeit in technical terms ten years older (not physically, he lost ten years doing that. In my standards, he aged up ten years in bodily health. It won’t catch up with him til later in his life though, I bet), and survived getting the flesh on his chest, his RUBBER FLESH (ugh, that must have been horrible to see, and smell), melted off because he had been lucky enough to have caught the interest of supernova-at-the-time, Trafalgar Law.

With all of that in our minds, I wouldn’t doubt that Lady Luck would grant his Awakened Devil Fruit the ability to travel through time, or basically teleport.

Because come on.

He’d literally be stretching time and space.

’~’

I admit, he’d, at first, almost do something stupid. With time travel, he’d go back and try to prevent so much bad shit that’d happened to him without thinking of the consequences, as always, and he would end up DRASTICALLY changing things.

For example: he would go back to prevent, let’s say, the events of Marineford. Whitebeard would still be alive, Ace would still be alive, so much DEATH would have been avoided, and Teach would target Luffy and his crew in an attempt to become shichibukai. The vile man had seen Luffy’s wanted poster and decided to target him, and then full out admitted this to Ace at Banaro, and Ace definitely was NOT going to have that! I memorized their conversation as evidence because people like to sass me with a classic “YOU HAVE NO PROOF!”:

“First, I’ll go to Water Seven from here to kill Strawhat Luffy and hand him over to the government!”

“Luffy…!? What did you say…!? ”

“Oh? You know him?”

“I won’t let you lay a finger on him. He’s my little brother! ”

’~’

Luffy preventing Ace from being taken to Impel Down in the first place, which means preventing Ace from continuing to hunt Teach by, maybe, telling Ace about the Yami Yami no Mi and it’s abilities, and, if he manages it because coME ON, he can’t to save his life, lie about how he knows this, which would either drive Ace back towards Whitebeard in an attempt to prepare for such a battle, maybe even train more, or wouldn’t prevent Ace’s action against Teach, but would cause him to take the fight MUCH more seriously from the get go with the newfound knowledge. Going with the latter route, Ace taking the fight seriously from the start, if Ace seems too powerful to Teach, he’d do everything in his ability to flee the battle, as the man has always been a coward, and was never a carrier of The Will of D, despite being Marshall D. Teach. I don’t doubt that Teach would somehow escape Ace’s fury and flee Banaro, deciding against his thought of turning in Ace instead of Strawhat. He would hide out with his crew, or what may be left, for a lil less than a month. Lay low. No destruction, no killing, nothing from the Blackbeard Pirates. They would fall off the grid. Ace, having lost the man’s trail, would either continue roaming for any leads, or retreat back towards Whitebeard with his newfound knowledge of the man’s abilities, because he has SOMETHING on the man now, and his crew should know.

Teach would then head towards Sabaody and Fishman Island to have a run in with the Strawhats. They wouldn’t win that battle, and Luffy, plus his crewmates if they knew, would then be given to the government, and, knowing Luffy’s heritage, they’d rush to execute him almost as fast as they had with Ace. The papers would be full of excitement over it.

“SON OF REVOLUTIONARY DRAGON TO BE EXECUTED IN A MONTH!” the paper would scream, alerting everyone Luffy had managed to save or befriend, in one way or another. Shanks, Dorry, Brogy, Whitebeard (if Ace found out and lost his shit. He would try to leave, to rescue his baby brother, who doesn’t deserve to be executed. He would be held back, kicking, screaming, and crying out that Luffy was his first light in the dark, that he needs to save his little, adorable brother, that he’d always hate himself more than he has if he lets Luffy die. I feel that it would hurt Whitebeard and the others on the ship to see someone who was usually smiling and cracking jokes and being a nasty little brat on some days, and just an all around JOY to be around, be so… lost, and broken, and just a WRECK. They’d go and help save Luffy, I think. Whitebeard knows the importance of family, knows that Luffy means the WORLD to Ace, who was so, so PROUD when Luffy’s first bounty came out, and any brother of Ace was a son of his, and no one would be executing one of his sons when he could do anything about it.), two Yonkos and two giants.

The marines had been dreading in the original timeline that Shanks would join in the fighting when he arrived 15 minutes late to the war with a latte, imagine their horror as Whitebeard and Shanks join forces to save a simple, small boy made of rubber, who's grin and energy touched the hearts of practically millions on both the East Blue and the Grand Line.

But, the whole thing would be a plot by the marines to draw out Dragon, to catch him trying to rescue his son. But, the Revolutionaries, they are one big WILD CARD! I haven’t gotten enough about Dragon himself to even begin to THINK that be would mobilize forces to save Luffy. But, he did rescue Luffy at Loguetown, remember that. I bet he would be so so PROUD of Luffy, who was causing the World Government so much CHAOS, doing just what he had been doing, but instead of planning, like Dragon, he just went and did it. And if anything, the sudden headline would spark SOMETHING in the amnesiac that is Sabo, a deep-seated terror that he doesn’t know the origins of, or maybe it would knock him into a wave of soul crushing horror as memories of a small, bright little boy came crashing into him like a tsunami, he would drop the paper in horror, he never knew that Dragon was Luffy’s FUCKING FATHER, he would rush to Dragon about it, and if the man would do nothing, Sabo would become enraged. What a horrible father, what a SNAKE! He would beg, plead, do anything to get this man to save his FUCKING SON! And if Dragon was going to act, he would assign Sabo and a select group to infiltrate Impel Down to save Luffy, only to have barely missed him, yet they would be able to break out Luffy’s crew, if they had been captured when trying to help Luffy. Anyone can elaborate on what happens after this, I’m moving on.

If Ace had retreated to Whitebeard instead of going to Banaro to confront Teach, the man would have, more than likely, destroyed Banaro and would make his way to Water Seven. I estimate that he’d make it there after the events of Enies Lobby, unaware of the dramatic uppage in bounty that would follow. Aqua Lagoona had just passed, he’d just miss the Strawhats leaving the large city, but he would see the newly built Thousand Sunny flying as quick as a bee out towards the ocean, and he would follow. They’d go through some bastardized game of cat and mouse, I doubt Teach would even TRY confronting the Strawhats so close to Thriller Bark. So he’d wait until the fog lifted, like an idiot, because he probably doesn’t know the fog won’t lift. But, and correct me if I’m wrong, the fog DOES lift after Moria is defeated. He follows Luffy to Sabaody, where he confronts the Strawhat crew, and from here I believe the events mentioned in the last path would come to pass.

’~’

That was an example of what his meddling with time could lead to. Robin, of course, would stop him from doing it. She understands the risks of time travel, she’s read many books after all. Not only would she warn him to never use his power unless it was his ONLY CHOICE, she’d have him PROMISE!! And Luffy never breaks a promise, at least, not to my knowledge. It would be a great way to reset if he loses too much. And that means if he loses his crew, and he doesn’t feel he can go on without them.

Honestly, I find Luffy’s Gears facinating. Gear Two is advanced speed, Gear Three is damage spread across a large distance, and Gear Four is a mix of both. Truly interesting, the things Luffy has come up with for attacks and abilities when it comes to his own body. Which is why I’m instantly appealed by a Luffy moving so fast that he stretches time and space to the point of time travel, or teleportation.

And honestly, I kinda wanna see what other people have to think about my lil (understatement) rant here.

This has been your friendly neighborhood crow, signing out so I can attempt to sleep.

#wow i ranted #*whistles* thas a big post #lotsa words #noice #one piece #monkey d. luffy #devil fruit awakening #sleepy talk #randombabbles #i hope to see what others may say

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coloneljamesmoriarty · 6 years

Text

Elerium Brunette (1/4)

Two of the Council's top agents are sent to Prague to recover a List of all known agents operating in the region. It's not as simple and straightforward a mission as either hopes it would be

Read it (and maybe leave a comment) on Ao3 HERE.

Setkání

“Agent Bradford.”

John lifts his chin and straightens out his shoulders, trying to appear as professional as possible. Surprise meetings were always worrisome, but he was confident that he hadn’t done anything to warrant any punishment. He takes comfort in the fact that it’s unlikely to be a meeting to warn him of his inevitable death. Such was the life of a spy.

“Sir,” he greets. It’s hard to get a read on the Spokesman, but he thinks he likes him.

“You are about to be assigned to a mission,” the Spokesman says, directly to business as usual. “Your assigned partner will be here shortly. Despite our selection, we urge you not to come to rely on her entirely.”

He raises an eyebrow, interested but not overly concerned. “I can take the mission on alone, if you think she’ll betray the Council.”

“This is not a mission you can take on alone. She will be useful at the beginning, certainly, but there is a risk she may desert.”

Bradford rolls back onto his heels, somewhat surprised. Usually when told not to trust a fellow spy, it was due to fears of double agents. “If she does, am I to follow?”

“No,” the Spokesman answers quickly. “If she deserts, report back and we will deal with her.”

He nods. “Understood, Sir.”

Silence falls between them, the Spokesman’s private words for him apparently done. He relaxes his stance again and waits.

Not even two minutes later the door to the room bursts open and another of the Council’s lackeys ushers in a woman. The representative hands each of them a thick file before disappearing again. John flips his open to skim through it.

“Agent Mercier,” the Spokesman says, not anywhere close to fondly.

“Spokesman.” She flashes him a forced smile. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“John Bradford, Tatiana Mercier, the Council has a mission for you two.”

Tatiana eyes him from the corner of her eye. “You know I don’t do well with partners.”

“This mission is larger than one person, Agent,” the Spokesman warns lowly. “Agent Shen was in Prague to recover a list of agents and keep it out of enemy hands.”

Tatiana stiffens at the mention of Agent Shen.

“Just this morning, Agent Shen was murdered and the list was stolen, presumably by ADVENT operatives.”

“You want us to recover this list,” John concludes. “I don’t know Czech.”

The Spokesman shifts his shadowed gaze from him to Tatiana. “Agent Mercier does.”

They share a look.

“Do we have any leads to begin with?” she asks sharply, turning her attention back to the Spokesman.

“The List was stolen originally by an agent known only as ‘Rov-r’ who handed it off to Agent Shen. Find Rov-r, and perhaps you can find the list,” he suggests.

“Yes, Sir,” John says. Tatiana murmurs her own affirmative and turns to leave.

“There is one last note, Agent,” he warns. She stops and turns back around. “There is a chance you will run into an agent known as ‘the Commander.’ If you do, eliminate them with extreme prejudice.”

“Understood.”

“Eliminate? Not capture?” John asks incredulously.

The Spokesman nods. “The Commander has been feeding secrets to ADVENT for too long and is too dangerous to be captured. Whoever eliminates them will be handsomely rewarded and likely never need to work again.”

“Understood, Sir,” John says, nodding.

“Remember, we will be watching.”

The screen goes dark before them and without hesitation Tatiana turns on her heel and leaves. He is quick to follow, easily catching up to her.

“Let’s make this a quick mission,” she says.

“Really have a problem with partners, then?”

She levels him with a flat glare. “I can work with partners. In this case, I’d like to find this List before the Commander does.”

He raises a curious eyebrow. “Are you afraid of them?”

“Of course not,” she scoffs. “If anything, I’d like to eliminate them myself. It’d be a good way to leave the business.”

“I’ve heard of you, you know. Rumors never painted you to be one to want to retire,” he says.

“At this point, I’m sure the Council would love it if I retired,” she retorts, stifling a laugh. “Receiving commendations for taking down the Commander would be a nice ‘fuck you’ to them before going out.”

He stifles a laugh of his own. “You really don’t like the Council, do you?”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“I noticed.”

She regards him for a moment with a ghost of a smile on her face. “Don’t let their opinion of me color yours,” she says. She catches the door and holds it open for him.

He nods minutely and hesitates for a brief second. “Do you have a ride?” he asks. “We’ve got a flight out in four hours.”

“I’ll grab a taxi, don’t worry,” she assures.

He nods and heads to the garage, lingering for just long enough to see her flag down a taxi and climb in.

“I told you to sleep on the plane,” Tatiana says.

They stride out of the train station with their bags in tow. She flags down a taxi for them to climb into.

“I tried. I don’t understand how you just passed out,” he retorts.

She glances at him out of the side of her eye. “I didn’t. I just ignored you and got whatever rest I could. I’m in some desperate need of some tea,” she retorts.

“You what?”

She flashes a smirk and turns to tell the taxi driver the address of their hotel.

They dump their belongings in their respective rooms which are fortunately just across the hall from each other, then walk down to the nearby cafe to get the caffeine that they so desperately need.

John sticks close to Tatiana to avoid having to say anything, perhaps closer than necessary, but she doesn’t comment. She hands him his coffee when their drinks come out and they take a seat at a table in a corner to talk.

“So, any ideas for trying to find the List?” she asks casually.

“Normally I would, but with the language barrier intelligence collection is rather difficult.”

“We can do it together, then,” she offers. “I’ll hook targets in, and if they know enough English, I’ll pass them off to you.”

“Isn’t that a little suspicious?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not charming enough to work the information out alone. Do you have a better idea?”

John leans back and contemplates. “We could pose as a couple,” he suggests at last. “Foreign boyfriend who doesn’t know the language, it’d give a plausible reason to switch the conversation to English, and for why we’re going around together.”

She snorts in amusement, then flicks her gaze up and down his form. “Well, you wouldn’t the the worst person I’ve had to pretend to date,” she retorts, smirking.

“Sounds like we have a plan, then,” he says, shooting her a smirk of his own.

“The Council gave us Rov-r’s last known residence,” she says, passing a torn piece of paper towards him. “The dossier said she speaks fluent English, so I figured you could go after her.”

He raises and eyebrow and glances down at the address written on the note. “If you can help me figure out where the place is, I’ll do it. What about you?”

“I’ll take you there. Walking around the city will be good practice for pretending to be a couple,” she sighs. “I want look through Agent Shen’s apartment, see if there are any clues he might have left behind.”

John frowns. “That sounds… easier for someone who doesn’t speak the local language.”

She snorts. “And if the police walk in? You’re not going to be able to explain why you’re going through the belongings of a dead man,” she retorts, a hint of a smirk on her lips. She pauses to take a drink of tea, then rests against the table looking a bit sullen. “Besides, I was… friends with him. If he left even the slightest clue, I’ll be better suited to figuring it out.”

“That’s fair,” he says leaning back. He looks at her for a moment, almost amused if it weren’t for the obvious distress about their fellow agent. “If you’re so tired yourself, why didn’t you get coffee over tea?”

“I hate the smell of the stuff. If you see me drinking coffee, it’s because my only other option is death,” she retorts, lightening up a bit.

He stifles a laugh. “Still, maybe we should put off hunting for clues until tomorrow. Let us both rest up,” he suggests.

She shakes her head. “No. I’ll be fine once I get going again. And you need to find Rov-r before anything happens to them.” She shoves the note with the address back into her coat pocket and swipes up her tea. She stands and offers her hand to him to help him up.

He doesn’t hesitate to grab her hand and pull himself up. “Lead the way, darling,” he teases.

Tatiana shoots him a scowl, though there’s hardly any fire behind it. Without any delay she all but drags him out of the cafe and down the streets.

The pace she sets is quick but not hurried. John lets himself be distracted by the sights along the Prague skyline, though, which slows them down.

“I’m sure you can find the time to sightsee another time,” she says, giving his hand a firm tug to try and hurry him along.

He retaliates by wrapping his arm around hers and forcing them to walk slower, shoulder to shoulder. “Is that an offer to show me around?” he asks, smirking.

“This is going to be insufferable already, isn’t it?”

“Just part of the job. What’s that building?” He points to a pair of gothic spires rising above the mix of gothic and harshly modern architecture in the skyline.

She narrows her eyes and hums for a moment. “Týnský chrám, Church Týn. I don’t remember it’s proper English name,” she says.

“It’s gorgeous.”

“It’s better at dawn. At the right angle, the sun rises right between the spires.”

He doesn’t miss the touch of fondness in her voice. “We’ll have to get up early one morning.”

She glances up at him and a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “Supposing you can get over your jetlag quick enough,” she teases.

Most of their walk continues in much the same way, with her naming some of the more prominent structures on the city skyline that he points out. By the time they come to a stop outside the modern style apartment building that Rov-r supposedly lives in, both of them had finally started to relax into the other’s touch, making them appear less awkward to passerbys.

“Third floor, number 18,” Tatiana says, easily slipping back into her work mindset. She untangles her arm from his and puts a bit of space between them. “Meet you back at the hotel?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

She hesitates for a brief second, then steps back in to press a kiss to his cheek. “See you later,” she says.

She turns and disappears down the street before he can react.

Tatiana arrives at Raymond Shen’s former apartment with two yellow adonis flowers in hand. She lays them down gently in front of the doorway and says a few quiet words in Czech before stepping inside.

The apartment is practically spotless, as she would have expected from Shen. Nothing is obviously out of place which makes it easy to pick through his belongings.

There aren’t any clues as to who might have attacked him nor where the list may be, but she does find a photo on his desk beside a small pentagonal badge. She picks the photo up and the faces of Raymond Shen, his wife, and a teenage girl stare up at her from in front of the golden gate bridge. She smiles fondly at the memory of the man she once knew and tucks both the photo and the badge into the pocket of her coat.

She continues searching the apartment fruitlessly. As she is going through his workroom, she hears voices at the door. She prays that it’s just the police coming to check his apartment, but the voices speak with the heavy accent of ADVENT agents.

Unfortunately, it meant she was surely in for a fight.

Whoever is speaking enters the apartment as she hears the door slam shut behind them. Tatiana looks around and spots a wrench lying out on one of Shen’s tables, so she grabs it and beings to ready herself.

She presses herself against the wall of Shen’s apartment, trying to keep her breaths low and even. The footsteps grow ever closer to her, so she tightens her grip on the wrench. She closes her eyes and listens, counting the moments until the steps are just on the other side of the wall.

Tatiana spins around and cracks the wrench over the intruder’s head causing him to stumble back into his partner. They stare at each other stunned for a moment, then hell breaks loose.

The man she hadn’t hit draws his gun and fires at her and she just narrowly ducks behind the wall again. She turns around just in time to see the first agent rushing at her and punch him in the gut.

It slows him down, but it doesn’t stop him from throwing a punch of his own. It connects with her jaw and she can taste blood in her mouth. The man grabs her while she is stunned and gets his arm around her neck.

She grabs his arm and tilts her head as far back as she can to try and grab a breath. Without warning, she stomps on his foot and drags him over her shoulder, tossing him back into the other spy. Using the space she’s made for herself, she runs back into Shen’s workroom and grabs a length of chain that had been left out.

The men are quick on her heels, appearing in the doorway just heartbeats later. She throws the wrench at the one with the gun to knock it out of his hands. The other manages to kick her in the chest, causing her to stumble back while she wraps the chain around her knuckles. She rushes forward again and clocks him in the jaw, then immediately turns and does the same to the other spy.

She grabs the one with the gun and puts him into a headlock before he can recover from the punch. He tries to elbow her to let him go, but she grabs his wrist and shoves his arm away before he can. She forces his hand up and shoots his partner twice in the chest.

He throws his head back and and hits Tatiana’s nose. She releases his grip on him and stumbles back, bringing a hand to her face. Blood covers her glove when she pulls it away, but she doesn’t have time to do anything about it as the spy takes aim at her again.

She rushes forward and punches the man in the elbow of his extended arm to knock his aim off. He still manages to get a shot off, but it only grazes her arm. She grabs the gun before he can take aim again and toss it aside.

The spy grabs her by the front of her coat and tosses her onto a table, breaking it. He takes the opportunity to run for his gun, so she drags herself up and tackles him to the ground, leaving them both just out of reach.

She quickly unwraps the chain from around her hand before he can throw her off and loops it around his throat. She tightens it quickly and he grabs at it in a desperate attempt to catch a breath.

“Where is the List?” she hisses lowly, panting for breath herself.

“I- I don’t-”

“I know ADVENT killed him!” She tightens the chain.

The spy shakes his head frantically. “He was already dead,” he gasps.

Tentatively, she puts some slack on the chain. “What do you mean, he was already dead?”

He gasps for a breath. “Shen was dead when we found him, and the List wasn’t on him. We thought it would be here.”

“It’s not,” she answers. She tightens the chain again. “Who killed him?”

“I- I don’t know- A petty thief, maybe.”

Tatiana considers the information for a second, then lets go of one end of the chain to punch the spy in the face, knocking him unconscious. She gets off of him and picks up his gun, then shoots him in the head.

She tosses the gun back down and heads over to the balcony. She takes a moment to estimate the height, then climbs over the railing and drops safely to the ground. She takes a second to dust herself off and pull her scarf up over her bruising jaw, then stalks back off towards the hotel.

Tatiana comes out of the bathroom and she knows that something is not right. She pads forward, keeping her footsteps as quiet as possible as she enters the living space. Movement out of the corner of her eye catches her attention so on habit she punches the intruder in the gut and slams them into the wall.

“Just me, sorry,” John groans.

She sighs and releases him, letting him slump against the wall. “Don’t sneak up on me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He looks her up and down, noting the fresh bruises. “I take it you found something at Shen’s apartment. Or someone.”

“ADVENT. Apparently, they didn’t kill him.” Her voice is flat, but there’s a tightness to it that neither of them can ignore. She stalks over to the fridge and pulls out a beer, popping the cap off on the edge of a table. “Tell me you got some good news from Rov-r?”

He sighs. “Did you know that Rov-r is just a teenage girl?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

One of her eyebrows pops up curiously, but she does not interrupt.

“I don’t want to get her involved, but apparently she had looked at the List before handing it off to Shen. She memorized it.”

“ADVENT’s going to try and kill her,” Tatiana says finishes. She takes another drink.

“We have to get her out of here. And if we can’t find the List, the Council should be happy with her, instead.”

She shakes her head. “All the Council will want from her is the name of the Commander, and then they’ll find a way to keep her silent. It’s best if we find the Commander ourselves and get Rov-r somewhere safe.”

John’s brows furrow. “You don’t really think the Council would kill a teenager, do you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past them.”

Silence falls between them for a few too long moments.

“We have to find where the List went regardless. We can’t have it fall into ADVENT’s hands. Rov-r knowing it just complicates matters,” Tatiana says. She collapses onto the foot of her bed.

“Any idea who stole it from Shen?”

“The agents I ran into at his apartment said that it looked like he’d been mugged. It could be anywhere.”

John rubs his temples. “Maybe we should start with getting Rov-r out of the city. At least if we know she’s safe, the Council won’t be too angry,” he suggests.

Tatiana pauses for a moment, then nods. “I know someone who might be able to help with that. I’ll set up an appointment with her for tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan. Good night,” he says.

She lifts her beer as if to wave goodbye as he exits.

#xcom #elerium brunette #my writing #xcom discord was a mistake #the disaster has begun

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autistickogaynewrites · 7 years

Text

Away From You

Adrinath August Day 13 - Last Thing you saw/heard/tasted etc. Decided to instead base this off of a conversation I had with my sister.

Adrien is dragged to New York by his father for work, and while there, he can't help but be reminded of Nathaniel everywhere he turns.

Adrien could only describe himself right now downright miserable. He and Nathaniel had only been dating for a month, and it was the best month of his life. Until his dad gave him the news that the two of them were needed in New York to help prepare for a large fashion event, and there was no way Adrien was able to get out of it. Gabriel had Nathalie pack for him and he was given two hours to spend time with Nathaniel before they had to leave for the next week and a half.

Adrien’s emotions fluctuated between being mad at his father for the short notice and sad that now the dates he had planned with Nathaniel were going to be scrapped. He had called the redhead as soon as he got the chance, explained what was happening, and agreed that the best way to spend the next two hours was cuddling on Nath’s couch, watching The Princess Bride, and eating the last of the treats Nathaniel’s sister had made the day before.

The cuddling was almost enough for him to forget the fact he would be leaving his boyfriend and friends behind for the next week, but the thought still hung over his head like a dark cloud. Luckily, Nathaniel seemed to pick up on how much the thought of leaving was really bothering his boyfriend, so he simply let Adrien relax, letting him rest his head in his lap as he ran his fingers through the blond hair. Usually Adrien would speak alongside the movie since he knew it so well, but today he decided to simply watch, mostly absorbing as much of his boyfriend’s presence as he could.

He was just dozing off when he heard the knocking at the front door. Groaning, he peaked an eye open, noting that it was two minutes before he was due to leave, so the knocking was probably for him. Glaring at the clock, he rolled up, pulling Nathaniel into a kiss before pulling away with a sigh.

“I’ll text and call as much as I can, okay? And I promise to bring back the best souvenirs ever. I’ll have to buy a whole new suitcase just to hold all of them,” Adrien muttered, using one hand to brush Nathaniel’s hair aside as he stood up to leave.

“Alright, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Nathaniel responded, standing to walk Adrien to the door. “I’ll miss you.”

Adrien’s face softened, stopping in front of the door to pull Nathaniel into another kiss. A week and a half wasn’t even that long to be apart, but knowing that it was his father’s whims that were taking him to an entirely different country without taking his wants into consideration. When he pulled back from the kiss, he smiled at the flush that was now painted across Nathaniel’s cheeks, accentuating the light freckles there that few ever noticed.

“I’ll miss you too.I’ll try to text you before we take off and when we land. It’s a nonstop, so it should only be around eight hours. I’ll probably just be working on the assignments I’ll be missing and sleeping. Hopefully this week goes by fast and I’ll be back cuddling with you before we even notice.” Adrien tried to reassure Nathaniel, giving him one last grin before opening the door and going with Nathalie to the airport.

It was fair to say the week was not going by quickly, in any sense of the word. The first day had been blocked off so he could try to recover from the jetlag, which he couldn’t help but be thankful for. The next two days had been a mess of shoots, scrambling for an upcoming fashion show, and sitting alone in his hotel room when his father had somewhere to be.

He had wanted to call Nath more often, but taking the six hour time difference into account, all the free time he had would’ve been either class time or the redhead would already be asleep. He had tried to convince his father to let him go souvenir shopping, even saying that he’d bring the Gorilla, but Gabriel had quickly told him that they were in a foreign city in a different country and as such, Adrien would be confined to his hotel room when they weren’t working.

The fourth day was crammed full of work for his father, but Adrien’s schedule was mostly clear, which left him time to sit around and wish he was back at Nathaniel’s, cuddling and cracking jokes about whatever they decided to watch together. Sighing, he pulled himself from where he was sprawled across the bed, walking to the large windows and peering down at the sidewalk below. They were only on the fifth floor, so he had a pretty decent view of the pedestrians skittering about below him. Pulling the chair for the desk towards the window, he decided that he might as well people watch, hoping that it would provide more entertaining than watching tv or surfing the internet.

He tried to imagine what they were doing, where they might be going, if maybe they were meeting up with others or if they might just be going to work. He imagined little stories in his head, freezing when he caught sight of someone with bright red hair bobbing their way down the sidewalk. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but from his current distance, it almost looked like Nathaniel.

Pressing his face to the glass, he squinted, watching the person as they walked closer and closer. Eventually, he could make out their face, and even though the chance had initially been low, he still frowned when he realized it wasn’t Nathaniel.

Deciding he had enough of window watching, he got up from the chair, crossing the room to pick up the menu Nathalie had dropped off for him less than an hour ago. She had told him that he was allowed to order what he wanted, as long as he was careful to not order in excess. Flicking through it, he decided to order a simple steak, eyes darting around before he flicked back to the dessert section. Scanning the options, he stopped when he came across the picture for the strawberry sponge cake. Nathaniel always told him that his favorite flavor anything was strawberry, and he was especially weak against strawberry cakes.

Making up his mind, he called down for his meal, practically bouncing in his seat as he waited for it to arrive. It was such a small thing, but with how much he missed the redhead, he hoped the taste of the strawberries would be enough to trick his brain into being a little less miserable.

When he heard the telltale knock at the door, he barely stopped himself from sprinting to the door and yanking it open. After taking a deep breath, he opened the door gently, stepping aside as the worker pushed the small cart into the room. Once it was beside the small sitting area, the man turned to leave, and Adrien made sure to pass the man a few dollars. Once the worker left, he turned to the food, pausing as he saw the small vase with a single tiger lily in it beside the plate. He stepped forward to run his fingers across the petals, smiling softly when he remembered Nathaniel telling him how much he loved the flowers.

”Tiger lilies were always my maman’s favorites. She said they were the first flower mère ever gave her. They planted some in our front yard, and they’ve been there as long as I can remember. Maman always told me they mean ‘I dare you to love me’. I don’t know, I just think that’s more beautiful than a red rose. I’d want a bouquet of tiger lilies if I ever got flowers.”

Blinking back a few tears, he sat down to eat, eyes glued to the flower as he ate. Maybe when he was done eating, he’d call Nath. The boy would still be in class, but he’d at least be able to hear his voice through the voicemail, and maybe he’d even leave a message telling the redhead how much he missed him.

Mind made up, he ate his steak quickly, but slowed down to savor the strawberry cake. Once finished, he pushed the cart out into the hall beside his door and darted back inside to grab his phone. When he found it and checked the time, he realized lunch was just ending in Paris, and he didn’t want the boy to see the call and be late to his next class trying to talk to him, so he decided to wait. Sitting on the small couch, he flicked the TV on, groaning when it flickered to life and showed The Princess Bride just starting.

He usually loved the movie, quoting along as often as he could, but knowing that he had cuddled up and watched the movie with Nathaniel right before he had to leave made his chest tighten. Turning it off, he decided to just lay in bed and nap, maybe read a bit of fanfiction on his phone before passing out. His schedule was empty for the next two days, so he wasn’t worried about missing anything. Changing into pajamas, he crawled into the bed, pulling the blanket over his head as he buried his face into the pillow.

When he woke up the first time, it was to the sound of hushed arguing right outside his door. It sounded like one of the voices might be Nathalie, but he was too tired to think on it, so he simply rolled over and went back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, it was to the sharp rapping of his father’s knuckles against his door. His father had a very distinctive way of knocking that let Adrien know it was him, but he usually just walked into whatever room he wanted, and Adrien knew he had a keycard to the room, so he simply sat and waited for the man to walk in. When a few moments later there was simply another knock at the door, he pulled himself out of the bed, checking to make sure he looked presentable before walking forward and opening the door. His father stood on the other side, hands crossed behind his back as Nathalie stood tapping away at her tablet. His father seemed to look him over before his brows furrowed.

“Nathalie brought it to my attention that you seemed...distressed yesterday, and that I should see what I could do to remedy the situation.”

Adrien opened his mouth to assure his father he was fine, but the man simply held up a hand and stopped him.

“I came to check on you yesterday evening, but you had already gone to bed, so I had Nathalie take care of it.”

Adrien paused, raising an eyebrow as he waited for his father to elaborate. The man stared at him for a few seconds before lifting one hand to wave like he was beckoning someone forward. Adrien leaned forward in the doorway, eyes widening when he caught sight of his redheaded boyfriend walking forward, one hand dragging his luggage behind him as the other rubbed at his eyes.

“Nath!” Adrien shouted, smile painted across his face as he darted forward to hug the boy, smiling into his hair as the artist’s arms came up to wrap around him.

“Nathalie informed me that a large part of your upset seemed to stem from his absence, so I had her contact his parents and book him a flight here. He’ll be staying with you, although I expect you to behave appropriately. Your schedule is empty until Friday, when we have a gala to attend, so you’ll be allowed to spend time with him. I have also taken the liberty of scheduling blocks of time for you to get out of the hotel and ‘sight-see’, with your bodyguard of course. We’ll have to get him a suit if he’s going to attend the gala as well, but seeing as how he’s most likely quite jetlagged, that can be taken care of later.”

Adrien pulled back from the hug, looking down at Nathaniel and noticing how tired the boy really looked.

“I’m sorry,” Nathaniel muttered, hand scrubbing over his face as he tried to stay awake, “I’ve never flown before, and it was a really long flight. The time change is also messing with me, so I’m more than ready for a nap.”

Adrien reached behind Nathaniel to grab his luggage, wrapping the other arm around the boy’s shoulders as he guided him into the room. Pushing him gently forward, he turned to thank his father. Before he could say anything, Gabriel simply nodded his head at him before turning on his heel and heading down the hallway. Nathalie gave him a small smile as well before following after him, leaving Adrien and Nathaniel alone.

Adrien pulled the luggage into the room, shutting the door behind him as he set the bag aside and walked into the room, finding Nathaniel, still fully dressed, sprawled across the bed.

“Nath, you can’t sleep in those clothes,” Adrien grinned, stepping forward to pull at the boy’s jacket, “You’ll regret it when you wake up. I’ll help you get changed and then we can cuddle and sleep, okay?”

Nathaniel let out a dramatic groan before rolling over, yanking at his jacket and tossing it to the ground.

“I can’t believe your dad managed to convince my parents to just let me fly over to New York for a week. I’m glad I get to see you again so soon, but my mind is still completely blown.”

Adrien chuckled as he untied Nath’s shoes, tugging them off as soon as they were loose enough. Leaving the redhead to handle the rest of the clothing, he grabbed the luggage, dragging it towards the bed so he could pull out some pajamas for his boyfriend.

Giggling at the Chat Noir onesie that he found as soon as the bag was unzipped, he tried to see if there were any other pajamas and finding none, he passed the onesie over to Nath, grinning at the red that flushed across his cheeks.

As soon as the boy was changed, Adrien crawled into the bed, pulling Nathaniel into his arms as they lay together.

“I really missed you,” He whispered, running one hand through the bright locks, “I’m glad you’re here now though.”

Nathaniel hummed, shifting so he could press a kiss right above Adrien’s heart before settling back.

“I missed you too. That’s why I came. Now, less talky, more cuddly.”

Adrien laughed, pulling Nathaniel closer, tangling their limbs together as he closed his eyes and relaxed, drifting off to sleep to the sound of his boyfriend’s light breathing. Right before he finally fell asleep, he realized that he was so unbelievably happy to have the other boy in his arms, that if felt like his heart might burst, and unbeknownst to him, Nathaniel felt the exact same way.

#miraculous ladybug #adrinath #adrinathaugust #adrinathaugust2017

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dalhousiediaries · 7 years

Text

September Update: Late, but when am I ever on time?

🎵Currently listening to: Sorrow a Spotify Playlist by me🎵

📖Currently reading: Horizons (my French textbook)📖

Here we are, back at it again.

September.

Okay, so I’m pretty late – so sue me, but in my defense, I’ve been so busy over the past month.

I’m back at Dalhousie University for my second year in pursuit of my Political Science and Sociology Undergraduate degree, and I went back with such a clearer mind and a more positive outlook on my move back to Nova Scotia. I can only assume it’s because I’ve dealt with a full year here already and another couple more years can’t hurt. Besides, four-five years actually passes by so quickly and of course, I’ve actually grown to like Halifax (even though it’s like a booger amount).

What even happened this past month? Well, I guess the past month and a half since I was here since August. I had left home early because of my new position in Dalhousie’s Ancillary Services as Risley Hall’s Front Desk Staff, a very exciting position, if I do say so myself. I flew out of Vancouver on August 27th and arrived in Halifax the next day – or, was it the same day? I don’t really remember, but that’s not really important. I forgot how annoying jetlag is but I was quickly reminded when I couldn’t fall asleep that night – even though I was tired from travelling.

I’m not a first year this year (no duh) so I didn’t attend Orientation, but to be fair, I was working the entire two-ish weeks I was there – everyday. Even if I did register for Orientation Week, I’d be too busy to even attend half the events and for an event that costs what it does, that’s money wasted rather than well-spent.

Because I’m writing this post so late, I’m referencing to my planner to help job my memory so that may be a reason why this post is going to be relatively short.

To summarize quickly, I was a little too busy to write – and to be honest, I lost motivation to write, which sucks because writing is my only form of release/stress busting.

September actually was pretty slow (even though I say I was busy) because, I didn’t have any assignments or any projects until October, but anyway… September was a blur of classes, readings, council events, getting people together and organized and of course, classes.

But if there’s one thing I could highlight about September is that, I finally started using the resources that (I’m paying for) Dalhousie provides. I started dropping into Academic Advising to ask for advice on where to go with my (seemingly useless) degrees. There, I met an amazing source of support in the form of my academic advisor, Tyler. Honestly, I highly advise any student, whether you attend Dalhousie or not, to use these resources – exploit it. I now plan to do my science requirement in the summer (hopefully at SFU, and it’d be an introductory geology course) and maybe get the second half of my English requirement done online in the summer as well – choices I didn’t know existed until I went into Academic Advising.

Grades wise, since we’re talking about Academic Advising, they’ve never been better – I was sitting on 5 A pluses… well, I can’t say that anymore, but for the first month at least I was at a perfect term GPA.

I think I told some of my friends back home about this, but I had attended an ACKSE event - which is a big Korean university-community; and to be honest, I have no idea why I thought to go because so many people know how I feel about Koreans, Korea, Korean media and so on - but I kind of want to write a separate post about this.

September 13th also marked the 3 month anniversary with my boyfriend back home – which yes, to some older readers, this is a new significant other and yes, again I’m doing yet another long distance relationship.

Nothing really significant happened in September, it was more like getting back into the rhythm of school and now, work.

#blog #dalhousie #update

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everlarkbirthdaydrabbles · 7 years

Note

My birthday is May 16. I would love a fic that features Age!Gap Everlark with Katniss 5 - 10 years older than Peeta. M or E rating. Thanks for running this fabulous web site.

Wishing you the happiest of birthdays, @ldyglfr62! Your gift - the penultimate offering from everlarkbirthdaydrabbles, was written just for you by @xerxia31. We hope you enjoy!

When Irish Eyes are Smiling

rated M, for language and adult situations.

It’s not completely unexpected, but it’s still a shock to see it. Thick, expensive card stock, pale pink with roses and their names embossed in gold.

Madge Undersee and Gale Hawthorne, along with their families, request the honour of your presence at their wedding…

I’m happy for them, I truly am. I’m just still kind of shocked that after nine years together, it took Gale less than three months to marry my replacement.

It’s not like I thought Gale and I would ever marry each other, even if our friends all expected it. And our breakup was completely mutual. But that he moved on so fast is kind of a slap.

“You should go on vacation,” Prim says when I phone to tell her the news. “That way, you can skip the wedding without looking like a jerk.” Trust Prim to cut right to it. Because she’s right; even though Gale is my oldest friend, I’d rather rip out my intestines with a fork than watch him marry the woman of his dreams while all of our mutual friends look at me with pity.

“I can’t go sit on a beach somewhere by myself,” I groan. “That’s even more loser-ish than going to my ex’s wedding stag.” But the wheels are turning. I do need to get away, and not just from the wedding. I could use a break from my entire pathetic life. “Maybe I could go see Effie?” I mumble. My late mother grew up in Ireland, she moved to America before I was born to marry my father. Her sister still lives near Dublin, and is always asking me to come see her. It’s been a long time since my last visit.

A fabulous deal on the flight seals it. Since I’m a freelancer, there’s no one to arrange vacation time with. I can work from anywhere that there’s an internet connection. My neighbour agrees to check my mailbox periodically, and my friends all understand.

o-o-o

I arrange to stay six weeks with Effie. The first week passes in a haze of jetlag, lumpy pillows, and daily afternoon tea on her garden-gnome-and-flower-strewn patio. It’s calm, quiet.

Since I’ll be gone over my birthday, Prim insists on paying for a week-long bus tour of the Scottish Highlands for me, both as a birthday gift, and as a break from my aunt. “Better not be one of those singles tours,” I grumble as she details everything over Skype while I sit in Effie’s formal living room, surrounded by creepy porcelain dolls, a pair of lace doilies protecting her mahogany table from my computer. Prim’s in med school in Seattle, I haven’t seen her since Christmas, and I think she feels guilty about not having been there for me - in person - when Gale and I broke up, no matter how many times I tell her that I’m fine about it. But since Effie is already driving me crazy, I don’t put up much of a fight.

“Do those exist?” she asks, and on my shitty laptop screen she looks pensive. I can tell she’s wishing she’d thought of looking for one. “Wild and Sexy Tours. Huh. I wonder if I can change it…” She starts clicking away on her keyboard and I balk.

“No, geez Prim, this is fine, great really.” The website she’s linked me to shows small tour buses, catering mostly to elderly vacationers. Just my speed.

“Have you met anyone over there yet?”

“Sure, Effie’s friend with the strange beard came by for cocktails yesterday.” Prim’s face screws up.

“That’s not what I mean, Katniss. Have you been out to the pubs at all? Or gone to a rugby match?” At my shrug, she groans. “Dammit, you’re too young to be spending your time holed up with Effie’s antiques. You need to get out there, meet people, date.”

“I’m not really ready for that,” I tell her, and I can see by the way her expression changes to pity that she thinks I’m still hung up on Gale. I don’t bother correcting her. Gale and I should never have been more than friends, we both knew it, but being together was easy, like a comfortable pair of jeans. I’m not in love with him, I really never was. But I’m not anxious to put myself out there just yet. Or maybe ever. Because Gale’s the only guy I’ve ever been with. At not-quite twenty-seven, I have no experience dating at all.

“Just promise me you’ll talk to some of your tour mates at least,” she says sadly. And I promise, because I can never tell my sweet sister no.

o-o-o

Edinburgh is a confusing mess of streets and hills and hilly streets and more freaking hills, and by the time I find my way to Waterloo Place, where I’m supposed to catch the bus tour, I’m late and in a panic. When I see the little red bus still at the stop, I’m almost weak-kneed with relief.

“‘Bout time you showed up, Sweetheart,” the driver grumbles, grabbing my backpack and tossing it unceremoniously into the back. I climb on board, and my heart sinks. I’m too late to have gotten one of the single seats, and am now going to be stuck sharing. There are only two empty seats, one on the bench in the very back, between a young woman with spiky hair and a serious case of bitch face and a man who might be a professional football player; the other right behind the driver, next to a startlingly handsome man, who glances up at me through a mop of ashy blond waves, and smiles shyly.

I hope Blondie isn’t a talker.

o-o-o

Blondie is a talker.

His name is Peeta Mellark, and he fills the first hour of our drive north with mostly one-sided conversation. But I find I don’t mind all that much. He’s Irish, from a village on the Irish sea, and his gently lilting accent is much nicer to listen to than the rough Scottish burr that our driver barks as he points out one thing or another along the route.

“You know a lot about Scotland,” I finally say.

Peeta smiles wistfully. “My da used to bring me here, when I was small. We’d walk the hills and sleep in the heather.”

“How long has he been gone?” Peeta lifts an eyebrow, but I know I’m right. I recognize the look in his eyes. It’s the same expression I wear when I think about my own father, whose death when I was just a kid marked the beginning of the end of my idyllic childhood.

“I was seventeen when he passed,” he says quietly.

“You miss him.” It’s not a question, I can see in Peeta’s eyes. He nods. But any further discussion is cut off by our first stop on the tour.

Though it’s a bus tour, it turns out to be a fairly active one. We make multiple stops all along the route to the Highlands, exploring an ancient cathedral, touring a distillery, even visiting a heritage village. And as what appears to be the only two people travelling alone on the tour, Peeta and I end up spending most of the day together.

It’s… nice. He’s sweet and interesting, and it’s refreshing to talk with someone my own age.

When we arrive at Inverness, our stop for the night, I realize that Peeta and I have been assigned to the same bed and breakfast, along with the linebacker, whose name is Thresh, his girlfriend Rue, and our driver, Haymitch. That’s going to make keeping to myself that much more difficult, I realize. Then Haymitch arranges for the whole group to eat together at a pub on the river. I want to say no, that I’m too tired or some other excuse, but somehow I get sucked along anyway.

I hate being forced into group situations, but Peeta, seeming to sense my unease, sits beside me and acts as a bit of a buffer between me and the throng, not speaking for me, but deflecting attention when I get overwhelmed.

And it’s compelling to watch him interact with the others. He’s so friendly and well-spoken, so intelligent and insightful, easily moving between discussing the differences between American football and Gaelic rugby with Thresh, and the impact of Brexit on tourism in the Republic with the South African lawyer seated at the next table.

And though I promised myself that I wouldn’t think about Gale, it’s impossible not to compare him with Peeta. Gale has always been sort of closed minded; conversation with Gale is only possible on the narrow range of topics he cares about, and generally involves either a recitation of his opinions with no room for dissent, or a re-living of his glory days. But Peeta is so thoughtful, I watch him absorb and consider everyone’s viewpoints, watch his reflect back intelligent discourse in a way that feels engaging and exciting, not like a firestorm. I can’t help thinking that maybe Prim is right. Maybe I do need to spend time with people my own age instead of feeling like I’m still stuck in highschool with Gale.

o-o-o

The sun rises ridiculously early in Inverness, and the curtains in my room are barely translucent. By five-thirty, I’ve given up on sleep entirely, and decide to sneak down to the common lounge, where the wifi signal is better.

I’m surprised to find I’m not alone. Peeta is already there, dressed for the day and facing the large plate glass window, beyond which the sky is streaked in pink and amber. He doesn’t hear me at first, and I can see in the reflection that his usual easy expression has been replaced by something more intense and removed that suggests an entire world locked away inside him. I decide to steal away, to leave him to his musings, but he catches the motion and turns, the faraway expression resolving into a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me. “Good morning, Katniss,” he says.

“What are you doing up so early?” I ask. There’s an empty teacup on the windowsill, he’s clearly been here awhile.

“I’m a baker,” he laughs. “I’m used to the pre-dawn wake-ups.” I grin, I heard him mentioning his business over dinner, and I’m curious about it.

He makes me a cup of tea, and another for himself, and as we sit together in the early morning hush he tells me about the bakery he owns in the tiny coastal village where his family has lived for generations. The picture he paints of his bucolic life there makes me ache, my own empty, tetherless existence in sharp contrast to his certainty. It makes me realize how stunted my growth has been, having wasted all of that time with Gale. Playing things safe instead of living.

I’m ready to live.

o-o-o

Our tour guide, Haymitch, is gruff and grouchy, but he seems to know all of the hidden gems of Scotland. As we head to the Isle of Skye, he makes frequent stops to walk nature trails with stunning waterfalls, to show us multiple off-the-beaten-path lookout points, and we even spend a glorious hour searching for shells on a Carribean-blue beach. But in the mid afternoon, the bus starts to make a strange noise. And as we pull into our next stop on the itinerary - the enchanted-sounding Fairy Glen - it comes to a shuddering halt.

“Ah shit,” Haymitch grumbles.

“Well,” Peeta murmurs in my ear. “There are worse places to get stuck.”

He’s right, this place is utter magic. As a group, we explore the strange rolling hills and mini lochs of the glen, walking the concentric rings and pressing coins into cracks in cave walls. Peeta is half mountain goat, I swear, practically jogging up the steep hills, gently teasing me as I lag behind. My laughter, unfamiliar but free, echoes all around.

And eventually, Peeta and I end up in a little meadow-like depression at the bottom of one of the hills. I haven’t felt so free since I was a kid. I’d love nothing more than to lie in the grass and watch the clouds float by; when I say so, Peeta pulls off his sweater and spreads it on the ground, tugging me down to lie beside him, my head pillowed on his arm.

I must drift off because the next thing I know, the patchy blue sky has clouded over completely, and Peeta is sitting beside me.

“Peeta, you should have woken me,” I say, rubbing the sleep crud out of my eyes.

“For what? Nothing’s going on here,” he says. “Besides, I like watching you sleep. You don’t scowl. Improves your looks a lot.” This, of course, brings on a scowl that makes him grin. “I’m kidding,” he laughs. “You’re beautiful, scowling or not.”

Something flutters in my chest, but I push it away. I don’t have room for that in my life. Instead, I nod towards the notepad in his hands. “What’s that?”

He tilts the paper towards me. It’s not writing, like I’d assumed, but a drawing. A sketch of a sleeping girl. My breath catches at the image on the paper. It’s me, clearly, and the talent in the pencil lines is mind-blowing. But it’s more than that. The girl in the picture looks softer, calmer, like all of her worries have been cast away. Peaceful. No, not peaceful… content. I haven’t been that girl in a long time. “This is incredible, Peeta,” I whisper.

“I have an eye for beauty,” he says, and it should sound cocky, like a come-on line. But from him, with those earnest blue eyes smiling, it just doesn’t.

Haymitch comes stomping into the clearing, greasy handprints marring his kilt. “Bus is fixed, git your arses on it,” he grunts.

Peeta gathers his sweater and notepad, and we trudge back to the bus. The tour continues in near silence, but it’s a good quiet. A comfortable quiet. Peeta wraps his arm around my shoulder and I find myself leaning into him as he strokes my hair. It’s uncomplicated and intimate. And though I’ve never been a cuddly person, I love it.

Our last stop is a trail that winds around a glassy Loch. The whole group is subdued, introspective maybe. Or maybe just hungry. Peeta and I lag behind though, enjoying the calm.

We emerge from the cover of the trees into a patch of yellow flowers, glowing in the sunlight. “Gorse,” Peeta answers my unasked question. “It’s everywhere at home too.”

“They smell fantastic,” I sigh. “Coconutty. Like the beach.” He chuckles, but when I reach for the golden flowers, he grabs my hand. I scowl.

“Thorns,” he says, delicately moving the blooms aside to show me that what I thought were flat leaves or needles are actually sharp spines. “Beautiful on the outside, but nasty underneath.”

“Just like me,” I say absently, but his brow wrinkles.

“No, Katniss,” he says. “You’re not like the gorse. You’re a bluebell.” I roll my eyes, but he continues, so earnestly. “Bluebells are shy, unassuming. Most people hardly notice them.” He leads me with a gentle hand on my lower back to the shady part of the hill. Only when he points them out do I realize the bluebells are in full bloom here. “But they’re strong and resilient, stubborn even. And once you see them, you can’t tear your eyes away from their beauty.” I turn to face him, but his hand doesn’t fall away, shifting instead to trace circles on my hipbone.

I want to scoff, to dismiss his words as the polished pick up lines of a player. But I can’t. As I stare at him, utterly speechless, he reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I lean into his touch, and he smiles, just the barest lift of his lips. Sweet and hopeful. Before I can even consider what a terrible idea it is, I lift up on my toes and kiss him.

It’s a gentle kiss, but the desire that flares in my gut from that brief touch is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I haven’t kissed a lot of guys in my life, a handful back in highschool, only Gale after that. But no kiss has ever before felt so electric. I need more.

It’s clear he agrees, because almost as soon as I press my lips to his again, he takes control, one huge hand cupping my cheek, tilting my head to deepen the kiss. Exploring me thoroughly. I can’t hold back the little noises that escape me, and he groans softly in response.

I lose all sense of time and place, gripping his shirt, kissing him with a passion I wasn’t certain I was even capable of. It’s only when I hear the rest of the group heading down the path towards us that I pull away, reluctantly.

Peeta’s eyes flutter open, heavy-lidded, pupils fat. “I have wanted to do that since the first moment I saw you,” he whispers.

We don’t talk about the kiss, but for the rest of the day Peeta holds my hand. Even through dinner at a quiet little restaurant right on the harbour, he plays with my fingers, looking at me with something like adoration.

When we get back to our B&B I’m not ready for the evening to end. But there are other guests in the common lounge, playing a raucous game of cards. “Would you like to come to my room?” I ask, then immediately feel heat climbing up my cheeks. “Just, uh, just to talk a while longer.” I can’t meet his eyes. I’m incapable of flirting, or of communicating at all, really. Yet he follows me unquestioningly.

We sit side by side on my bed, talking. But there’s a tension between us that wasn’t there before, a crackling awareness. I don’t even know who makes the first move, but one minute we’re talking, the next I’m sucking on his tongue and his arms are pressing me tightly to him.

Kissing Peeta here in my quiet room is even better than on the nature trail. Free from distractions, I can let my hands wander, trace the firm musculature of his shoulders and arms, feel the pull and flex of his back. He unravels my braid and runs his fingers through the locks. “Beautiful,” he whispers against my lips.

We kiss and caress, hands becoming more bold. It’s when he lays me back on my bed, the hard length of his body cradled by my own, that I begin to panic. “Peeta,” I start. “I really like you.”

He pulls back just enough to look at my face. Then he smiles fondly. “But you’re not ready,” he says, and I’m shocked that he anticipated my words. “I know,” he says, and there’s no anger, he doesn’t even look disappointed. “We won’t do anything that you don’t want to,” he promises.

“Could we keep kissing?” I sound all of thirteen, pathetic and immature. But he doesn’t laugh at me.

“I’d like that,” he says.

We kiss and touch, chastely, fingers on napes and cheeks, tangled in hair. Making out like teenagers. Like the teenager I never really was. And eventually we fall asleep wrapped around each other.

o-o-o

I expect the morning to be awkward, but it isn’t. It isn’t at all. When I wake up, he’s still there, lying beside me, awake and smiling contentedly. He kisses me, just lightly, before retreating to his own room to get ready for the day.

We tour two different castle ruins, climb down (and back up) a gorge, and check out dinosaur fossils. He’s gently affectionate through it all, holding my hand, kissing my cheek, but never demanding anything else.

But I tug him into my room and my bed again that evening. And again he kisses me to sleep.

o-o-o

Gale’s wedding day falls on the fourth day of the tour. I’m cranky, and Peeta notices. He asks me what’s wrong but I brush him off. But even in the face of my moodiness, my pique and my - as Haymitch says - ‘slug-like charm’, Peeta is patient with me. Willing to take whatever little bits of myself I offer. And it’s that acceptance that prompts me to open up to him. In fits and starts over the course of the day as we walk and tour and explore, I tell Peeta about Gale, about the wasted years, about the holding pattern I’ve been in since we split.

He listens attentively, neither judging nor offering platitudes. But his quiet support means the world to me. “Do you still love him?” he asks as we sit on the dock in a quiet harbour town, watching the seabirds circle and dive.

“I never did,” I confess. “But after so long, I don’t know how to move on.”

When we return to the B&B, I again tug Peeta into my room. But this time I know something has shifted between us. Our sweet, chaste kisses rapidly escalate. And though Peeta tries to slow us down, tries to be a gentleman, I want more. And after a few attempts, he gives up on the idea of reining us in, surrendering to my demands and my searching fingers.

Our clothes fall away, until I’m down to my bra and underwear, and he’s only in shorts. He stares at me in awe, as if I’m something exotic instead of plain Katniss Everdeen, far too bony and wearing threadbare panties. And though I’ve only ever been naked in front of one man before now, I don’t hesitate to reach behind me to unhook my bra. But Peeta stills my hands. “Are you sure?” he asks. “We don’t have to…”

“I want to,” I tell him.

When the cotton falls away, he shudders. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, licking his lips. “You have no idea, the effect you have.”

“Show me,” I whisper. And he does. In his arms, I get what might be my first taste of real, raw passion. Sex with Gale was fine, good sometimes. But never like this. As I shatter, and shatter, and shatter again, everything I think I know about myself is turned inside out, and I am changed forever.

It’s fucking terrifying.

o-o-o

The last day of our tour is quiet, too quiet. The weather is unsettled, the group members tired. Even Haymitch has lost his sarcastic edge. Leaves me too much time to think about Peeta, sitting next to me. Playing with my fingers and humming in contentment. Too much time to panic.

How can I say goodbye to this man? This man who has opened my eyes and my heart, who has shown me the barest hint of a life I never even knew I was missing out on.

What choice do I have?

It’s pouring rain when we pull into the stop at Waterloo Place, and in the soggy pandemonium of luggage unloading, it’s easy for me to grab my small backpack and slip away unnoticed. I get into the first available cab and am whizzing up the Royal Mile within moments.

I don’t look back.

o-o-o

I love Effie, I do, but sometimes I just need to get away. There’s a coffee shop near the rail station that’s a perfect escape, it’s outside of the touristy area and the patio is a great place to people watch.

A swarm of men in sharp black suits rounds the corner, heading straight towards me en route to the train. Slim-fit wool trousers cling appealingly to athletic bodies before spilling downward in perfectly pressed lines to where polished black shoes click on the cobbles. It takes a moment to realize that, no, the swarm of outrageously attractive men sauntering in the spring sunshine are not, in fact, men at all, but boys. Irish schoolboys - fifth and sixth years by the looks of them - splendid in their crisp white shirts, perfectly tied windsor knots and shiny shoes. I shake my head at myself. Leering at a bunch of teenagers? I’m too old for that. In my defense, they’re much better dressed than any of the men I know. I mean, I assume Gale wore a suit to his wedding, but it would have been the first time. Even when he dragged me to his senior prom, he wore a dress shirt open at the collar and a leather jacket.

I bet Peeta wears crisp suits like these, though.

And just like that, my mood falls again. I miss him. I miss him so much. I’ve spent the past five days lying to myself, trying to make myself believe that the week we spent together was no big deal, a little fun, a lot of great sex, nothing more. But my heart, the frail, foolish thing, is singing another song. I miss him. I feel his loss acutely, despite only having known him a few days. I know I made the right choice, leaving him on that rainy Edinburgh street. His life is here, and mine, what’s left of it, is in Philadelphia, I guess. There’s no chance of a future for us. And no sense mooning over impossibilities. But it doesn’t mean I haven’t fantasized about hiring a car and driving to the coast, just to see him one last time.

It’s the melancholy that’s making me see things. In the middle of the group, a golden head stands out. For a split second, I’m sure the broad shoulders and narrow waist attached to them belong to Peeta. But it’s impossible, these are school children, Peeta is back in his hometown, living his life. But the crowd shifts, and I can see his face clearly, blue eyes shaded by lush golden lashes, the smattering of faint freckles that kiss his sunburned cheeks.

And I drop my teacup.

The clatter catches his attention, his head swivels until he meets my eyes. I’m helpless to look away from the myriad of emotions that play across his handsome face. Surprise, relief, joy and anger. But I’m sure my own face reflects only a single sentiment.

Horror.

He says something I don’t catch to the people he’s with, then changes course to walk purposely to where I sit, frozen and mute, heart pounding so hard that I feel light-headed. He covers the few yards in long strides. The sun catches his hair, crowns him in gold as he stands above me, a wide smile curling those sensual lips. “Katniss,” he says, in that molten sex voice that I hear in my head every time I touch myself. The soundtrack to my every recent fantasy. The lament of my regrets. “I didn’t know you were in Dublin! I thought you’d gone back to America! I’m so bloody happy to see you! You were gone so fast after the tour, I didn’t get your number, and you’re not on Facebook.” He’s reaching for me, and my body instinctively reacts, warmth pooling low in my gut. Which is what snaps me out of my stupor. I jump from my chair, angling myself so that the narrow café table is between us.

“Katniss?” His brows furrow in confusion, his hands dropping to slide into his pockets. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re in school?” It’s barely a whisper.

“For another week, yes,” he says, still looking puzzled. As if it isn’t a big deal. A big fucking deal. He’s a child!

“You didn’t tell me you were so young.” I’m not certain I say it out loud until Peeta’s face twists, like he’s tasted something unpleasant.

“I’m eighteen,” he says. “I’ll be nineteen next month.” Eighteen! As if seeing him in that school uniform wasn’t bad enough, the confirmation that he’s a just a kid, that he’s almost nine fucking years younger than me makes my stomach lurch. “Is that a problem? For the record, you never asked.”

“You’re a child!” I say, much more loudly this time, and his frown deepens. “I’m… shit, I’m a pedophile!” Peeta’s jaw tightens, and an angry flush streaks up his neck. He grabs my arm, not hard but not leaving me much recourse, and walks the two of us away from the patio and around the corner of the building, into a quiet alley.

“Knock it off,” he hisses, and for a moment I feel like a naughty child being chastised. Which just serves to piss me off, I’m the grown-up here! I wrench my arm away from him, and back up, crossing my arms in front of me. But the alleyway is narrow and I’ve only moved a step before my back hits the wall. He steps forward, close enough to feel the heat of his body, to feel the tension that radiates from him in waves. “I’m an adult, Katniss,” he says lowly, his words skating across my lips as he leans in. “Old enough to drink, to vote.” His next words brush against the shell of my ear. “Old enough to fuck you senseless.”

A full-body shudder rips through me, equal parts arousal and revulsion. He’s a child! I took advantage of a child! I push against his chest and he takes a single step back, still in my personal space, but giving me enough room to clear my head a little. “I’m, fuck!” I gasp. “I’m twenty-seven. I’m nine fucking years older than you are!”

“Eight,” he says, “and so what? Doesn’t change how I feel about you, or what we have together.”

“It’s wrong-” I start, but he’s having none of it.

“Bullshit! We’re both adults.”

“You lied to me!”

“I did no such thing,” he snaps, but I’m pissed now.

“You told me you owned a bakery on the coast!”

“I do!”

“You’re a child!” His jaw tightens again, I can see the anger in his stormy eyes. Anger and hurt.

His hand reaches for me and instinctively I draw back, but he simply slips my phone out of my pocket. “What the fuck?” I sputter, but he’s already unlocked it and apparently messaged himself.

“Where are you staying, Katniss?” he asks, handing my phone back. I want to tell him it’s none of his business, but I just can’t. The pain in his eyes compels me to tell him.

“My aunt has a house in Clontarf,” I grumble. Peeta nods.

“Come with me tomorrow,” he says.

“What? No, that’s not a good idea Peeta.”

“Please, just do this one thing for me. Then I’ll leave you in peace.” The pain in his eyes is shocking. Guilt eats away at me. It was cruel, I know, sneaking away like a thief in the night. I can see how much I’ve hurt him. He takes my silence as acceptance. “Meet me here tomorrow morning,” he says. “Half eight. Wear a jacket.” Then he spins on his heel and strides out of the alley.

o-o-o

I fight with myself half the night and all morning. I’m not going to show up. He’s not going to show up. I owe him a chance to explain. He’s a fucking child! By the time I make it to the café, I’m an absolute mess.

But an absolute mess wearing mascara and a cute top. I’m a hypocrite, on top of everything else.

Removed from the cold horror of discovering I’d been cavorting with a schoolboy, I have to admit to myself that seeing him again ripped down the walls I tried so hard to construct around my feelings for him. Damn him! Damn him for being gorgeous and sweet and Irish and a toddler!

He pulls up only moments after I arrive, riding a smallish motorcycle, blond curls sticking out from under a black helmet. In jeans and a leather jacket, golden stubble glinting in the thin morning light, he’s even more impossibly handsome. But it’s clear he hasn’t slept well, his wary gaze is ringed with faint purple. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here,” he says softly, pulling off his helmet. I don’t bother to tell him that until I got off the bus, I wasn’t sure either. I simply shrug. He dismounts; I pretend I’m not checking out his ass in those snug-fit jeans. But he merely pulls a second helmet from his saddlebag, handing it to me without quite meeting my eyes.

“What’s going on?” I ask, but he shakes his head.

“Put on the helmet, Katniss, then get on the bike.”

“Don’t you have a car?” I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before, and Irish streets with their too-narrow lanes, cobbles, and the whole driving-on-the-wrong-side issue are scary enough in a vehicle with four wheels. His lips twist.

“No. Let’s go, we have a long ride ahead of us.”

It’s madness, but I do as he asks.

I sit stiffly behind him, trying to put some distance between us, but as soon as the bike is in motion, I have no choice but to wrap my arms around him and hold on tight. And having him again cradled between my thighs provokes the most confusing rush of emotions. This is such a bad idea. Such a fucking bad idea.

We don’t talk as he pilots us out of the city, we simply can’t. The rush of wind makes that impossible. But from time to time as we pass through the suburbs, then out into the countryside, he’ll squeeze my knee to catch my attention, pointing out an old tower or a ruin, or just the way the sun catches the gorse on the mountainside, making the world glow in sunny yellow. In spite of what I’ve learned, he seems like Peeta, like the man I met in Scotland. He feels like comfort, and like home. When he points of a patch of bluebells clinging to the side of a hill, my heart hurts. I stop fighting with myself and lean into him, my helmet-encased head resting against his broad back, his warmth soothing me. He squeezes my hand where it wraps around his ribs. Acceptance.

About forty-five minutes later, we drive into one of those quintessential Irish postcard villages, narrow medieval buildings crowded along the street - though here they’re painted in lush pastels - colourful bunting zig-zagging across the road and cars parked haphazardly everywhere. He circles a statue of what appears to be a young fisherman, then heads down an impossibly narrow alleyway, parking the bike in a tiny courtyard.

When he offers me his hand to help me off the bike, I take it gratefully. My legs are like jelly, and not just from the ride. He holds my fingers just a little too long, smiling wistfully. Then we rid ourselves of the helmets, and he leads me out of the alley, to stand in front of a building. It’s tall and narrow, like most of the buildings here are, but unlike most, it has an enormous plate glass window facing the street. The building itself is painted turquoise, and Mellark’s is spelled across the front in swoopy gold letters. “Welcome to my bakery,” he says softly, and with a hand on my back he ushers me inside.

The interior is even more charming than the exterior, and for a moment I can only gawk. Polished wood floors, pristine glass cases displaying a decadent array of goodies, and paintings on every wall that feel familiar. But none of that really means anything, does it? He’s in school, it’s clear that this isn’t really his bakery. It probably belongs to his family, and he works here on school breaks.

I turn my attention to the people working behind the counter, three of them. They smile warmly at me, but right away their expressions change as they catch sight of Peeta. They seem to stand a little taller, attempt to look a little busier. “Peeta,” one of them calls out. “We weren’t expecting you.” Well of course they weren’t, it’s Thursday, he’s supposed to be in school.

In school. Ugh. What am I even doing here?

“Just popping in for a bit,” he says with an easy smile. “Have a little business I need to attend to.” He heads towards a swinging door that separates front shop from back, but pauses with his hand on the frame. “Coming, Katniss?” Three heads snap to me in surprise, and I can feel my cheeks burning as I follow Peeta into a small, but modern industrial kitchen.

Here too, the workers stop and straighten, as if they’re trying to impress Peeta. It’s subtle, but I notice it. He greets each warmly by name. And I quickly realise that it’s not fear that makes them all snap to attention. It’s respect. Inexplicably, all of these people seem to respect him.

But it’s not really that inexplicable, is it? He carries himself with a confidence that goes beyond boyish ego. I can’t reconcile the businessman in front of me with the eighteen year old schoolboy I saw yesterday.

Peeta leads me to a small, windowless office at the rear of the building, and gestures for me to sit. Before I’ve even gotten comfortable, one of the women from the front shop has appeared with a pot of tea and a pair of cups. “Thanks, Dell,” Peeta says genuinely. The woman beams at him, then backs out of the office. I open my mouth to speak, but he shakes his head. “Hang on,” he says. “She’ll be back again.”

He’s right, she reappears a few moments later with a plate of food. I haven’t been able to eat since I saw Peeta yesterday in Dublin, and my stomach clenches painfully at the yeasty, cheesy scent wafting from the treats. “You call me if you want anything else,” she says, and Peeta promises he will. With one last wink in my direction, she leaves and this time Peeta closes the door behind her.

“What was that all about?” I ask, trying not to be obvious in my coveting of the buns. He notices anyway, and pushes the plate in front of me.

“Irish hospitality,” he says absently as he pulls the bags out of the teapot. He knows, even without me ever having said anything, that I prefer my tea weak.

I know all about Irish hospitality, know that Delly would continue bringing us more food and more tea and just generally fussing if Peeta hasn’t shut the office door. But this is different. “Not that. The weird way she was looking at me. She… she winked!” He glances up, and a flicker of amusement crosses his face before the sadness creeps back.

“I’ve never brought a woman here before,” he says. I wrinkle my nose at the implication of that, I can’t decide whether it’s because I’m somehow special or because, as a freaking child himself, I’m the first ‘woman’ he’s been with.

“Why have you now?”

“Because I want you to see me. To see that I am exactly who I said I am. Now eat your bun,” he says, nudging the plate again, “while I tell you about my father.”

My heart breaks again and again as Peeta paints a picture of his life. The only child of a single father, he had a typical childhood right up until his father got sick. Terminal cancer. The man spent all of his remaining time preparing his young son to take over the bakery that had been in the Mellark family for generations. At only fifteen, Peeta traded rugby for accounting, friends for responsibility. He even spent his transition year working full time at the bakery, learning the ordering system, studying food safety compliance.

By the time his father died not quite two years ago, Peeta was running the bakery himself.

He has an uncle who deals with the day to day while Peeta finishes school, something he’s doing because he promised his dad he would. But Peeta is the owner, and the one in charge.

It goes a long way to explain his maturity. He hasn’t been a child in a long time. On the face of it, the story sounds unbelievable. But I know what my eyes are telling me. What my heart is telling me. He may be younger, chronologically. But he’s the one with his life together. While I haven’t really grown since high school, his life has leapt light years ahead.

I sit in silence, picking at the cheese bun - which is incredible but which I can’t really enjoy - feeling like a pile of shit. The office door opens. An older man strides in, clapping Peeta hard on the shoulder. “Peet,” he says. “Wasn’t expecting you today! Glad you’re here though, I have those contracts for you to sign.”

“That’s great, Dalton,” he says, taking the proffered papers, his lips moving as he skims the words. But then he frowns. “The wage is wrong,” he says, pointing.

“They’re students,” Dalton says dismissively, and Peeta’s jaw tightens. It’s fascinating to watch, even if I don’t fully understand.

“That’s not how we do things here. I pay everyone a living wage.” Peeta stands, moving around the desk to take my hand, pulling me out of my chair. “When you’ve redone the contracts, leave them on my desk. I’ll pop in later to sign them before I head back to Dublin.” And with that, we walk out, leaving the older man behind.

We walk down the narrow cobbled street towards the waterfront, weaving among the tourists, past the harbour before finally stopping at an overlook right at the edge of the village. Peeta sits heavily on one of the empty benches, and drops his head in his hands. I lower myself beside him.

“You’re a good boss,” I say softly, breaking the silence that hangs between us. He doesn’t look at me.

“The bakery is more than just a job,” he says. “It’s my father’s legacy and my future. I have eight employees who directly depend on me, not to mention the suppliers and lorry drivers and pubs who benefit from my business too.” He lifts his head to look out over the water, and the weariness I see in his face speaks to a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Yet he’s uncomplaining.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him.

“I’ve never lied to you, Katniss. I might be younger than you thought, but I am exactly the man I said I was, exactly what you saw in Scotland.” Wary blue eyes meet my own. “Can you say the same?” My breath catches. It’s a valid question.

Katniss Everdeen is quiet and closed-off, reserved to the point of unfriendly. Difficult to get to know. Resistant to change. That’s not the woman who spent a week adventuring through the Scottish highlands. That woman smiled more, laughed more. That woman tried new things. That woman opened her heart, if only just a little. I shake my head, and his drops again to stare at his lap. The real Katniss Everdeen is the one who left this kind, gentle man standing on an Edinburgh street in the rain, without a backward glance.

Right now, I don’t like the real Katniss Everdeen very much.

He sighs. “My age isn’t really a problem, is it Katniss? It’s just a convenient excuse. You took off before you knew.” He’s right. When I really search my heart I know that the age gap between us is just a number. In many ways, in most ways really, Peeta is the more mature of us. The one with his priorities straight, with his shit together. Our ages don’t matter at all.

After what feels like an interminable silence, he asks, “Why? Why did you leave without a word? I thought there was something between us. Something real.”

“There is,” I whisper, startling myself with my honesty. He glances up at me, confusion in his expression, but also a heartbreaking flicker of hope. “You’re right,” I tell him. “I was a different person in Scotland. And… and I think I like that person better.” I swallow hard. “I like who I am when I’m with you.

“Then what’s the problem, Katniss?” The hint of frustration in his voice threatens to put me on the defensive.

“Your life is here, Peeta! And I live three thousand miles away!”

“You’re here now,” he says.

“For four more weeks,” I say, and sadness creeps in as I realize that I don’t want to leave him again, that even pissed off and hurt and, yeah, young as he is, just his presence makes me feel alive. “And then what?”

“Why do we have to figure that out now,” he asks. “Why can’t we just take it day by day, see where things go. Live without a plan, without a safety net.” He reaches for me, cradling my face in his hands, and my eyes slip closed. “Live, Katniss. Be the woman you want to be.”

What’s left of my defenses melt away as he kisses me so softly it’s like a dream. My hands wrap around his wrists, holding him in place. Keeping him with me, at least for the moment.

I know the only thing really standing between us is my fear.

“Okay,” I whisper, the words hanging, fragile and afraid, in the space between our lips.

“Yeah?” he smiles. And at my nod, he kisses me again.

I’ve wasted so much time living in complacency, afraid of change. But this feels like a second chance. An opportunity to grow and mature, instead of staying safely stuck in the past. And the part of me that is not so brave as I could wish is glad that it’s Peeta beside me as I step into the unknown.

—–

#Everlark birthday drabbles #ldyglfr62 #xerxia31

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cathcacen · 7 years

Text

Broken Bones

Anarei petitions Strahan to fix Lear up post-war. Prompt and some help with Lear’s dialogue/information from @phylophe, with whom I share this AU and our Canon-Verse. XD

Maika is sick. He’s been running around all day, and between ferrying his kid to the Peds clinic and back to his own practice, he’s exhausted. There’s some light throbbing in his temple that suggests he’s had either too much or too little coffee, so when Rei shows up unexpectedly in his office later in the afternoon, he’s more than a little wary and concerned.

“How was England?” He shoves a mug of tea across his desk to her, then leans back in his leather chair, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“Pretty good.” She wraps her fingers around the tea. Despite having just returned from a holiday, she looks exhausted – perhaps jetlagged, he reasons. Still, there’s a softness about her, warmth in her eyes and joy in her smile. “I got Maika some lavender shortbread.”

He smiles tiredly. “Thanks. I take it you had a good time, then?”

“Yeah.” Anarei takes a sip of her tea, wrinkles her nose, and sets the mug back down. “You okay? You look like you’ve had a long day.”

He groans. “Maika has the flu and the nanny is off on some island vacation this week. I had to cancel three appointments – that was fun. She’s fine, anyway, and I’ve dropped her off back home so Mother can watch her.” There had been traffic between the house, the clinic, and his practice, too. He’s certain he’s spent at least three hours on the road.

It’s worth it. Maika comes first.

“That’s good. I’ll bring the biscuits by later. Mother wants to have tea.” She studies him for a moment, and it occurs to him that he hasn’t seen her this at ease in quite a while now. There’s something different.

He raises a brow. “So, what’s up? I know that face.”

She blinks innocently at him, and the smile resurfaces – just a hint of amusement lingering at the way her lips curl, and the slightly shy and wholly coy manner in which she lowers her gaze to the hands folded over the edge of his desk. “Can’t I call in on my favourite brother to say hello? I did just get back from a trip abroad, you know.”

“Mmhmm.” He nudges her heeled boot with the tip of his loafer. “You say that to Ethan all the time, so I call bullshit. You look happy. Did you do something dirty?”

She bites her lip.

“Oh my god. You met someone.”

“No!” She tries for indignance, but her smile betrays the sentiment. “Well, not exactly. I reconnected with someone in England.”

“You say reconnected, but I’m thinking something else.” He can’t help but to grin at his sister.

As far as he knows, she hadn’t dated anyone with actual intentions since her incident. I’m not ready, she’d said – and no one had thought to push her beyond the occasional well-meant blind date.

Nothing had come of them, anyway.

“There was some reconnecting, and now there’s some introducing.” She peers at him, straightening in her chair. “I’m asking you in a professional capacity. Doctor-patient confidentiality protects what I’m about to say.”

“You’re not the patient, though.” He frowns. “I thought we were through with all the secrecy anyway.”

She looks at her hands again, and the answer suddenly becomes clear to him. “Rei, no.” There’s warning in his voice – not him again.

He remembers it all. He remembers storming the under bowels of the base in which she’d been held as a prisoner of war, and he remembers the way she’d stared at him through half-lidded eyes, dazed and confused behind rusted cell bars. She’d stared and stared, and it wasn’t until they’d broken into the room to get to her that he’d realised she was looking for someone else.

The Wound Man. Lieutenant Sagen.

He grits his teeth. She’d cried when she realised Sagen wasn’t there. After all, he was the person she was most desperate to see.

The sound of her broken sobs are still fresh in his mind.

“I love him, Hans. And he loves me.” She quirks a small smile at him. “I know you worry, but the war’s over.”

“You know, I didn’t tell anyone back then because I thought it was over – that thing you had going on with him.” She’d never directly confirmed nor denied his suspicions. “It was him, wasn’t it? All those years in the army, all those trips you went on – you were going with him.”

Her smile softens, and it occurs to him that he’s never seen her this smitten. It’s an unusual expression on her face, but the joy suits her. “We spoke in brief, after Dzisna. And now that the war is over, we’re free. We can be together.”

He’s come home to you, huh?

He lets out a tired sigh. “You sure you can trust him? You went from being his designated doctor, to complete strangers again, to being his nursemaid from some mission-gone-bad, to sobbing for him on a hospital bed. How sure are you he’s not going to leave you again?” He lowers his voice, leaning closer. “And what about his job? The one that turned him into a meat patty?”

He trusts her to understand his meaning – Sagen is more than just a Lieutenant. There has to be some unfinished business somewhere.

The job doesn’t end until the man does.

She shakes her head – a little too earnestly. “We’re done with that – with the war, with the secrets. I trust him.” Her voice softens further, and she reaches out to take his hands. “I need you to trust me, now.”

“You were waiting for him, weren’t you?” A part of him is impressed. The other part wonders why he hadn’t seen this coming. I should’ve known. “Are you sure you’re okay, though? Being with him, does it bring back… memories you’d rather not relive?”

She squeezes his hands, and he’s relieved to see the clarity in her eyes. “We’ve both been screwed by the war, Hans. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be okay together.”

It had taken some cajoling and a few stories of her time with the Wound Man. He’d wanted a clearer picture of their relationship before he agreed to take on the case. She told him as much as she was at liberty to tell – they’d met when she was still a Second Lieutenant midway through med school, and had kept up a friendly relationship the entire time she was assigned as his doctor in the field.

Their relationship had soured when it became clear he cared too little, and her, too much. She’d returned home for some conventional medical experience, and had proceeded to forget about him for the next two years. Eventually, physically broken up into a human manifestation of The Wound Man and badly in need of rehabilitation and therapy, he’d sought her out at the teaching hospital where she was due to take her medical boards exam. They’d grown closer over the following months, and that had led to them dating throughout her second deployment, up until the bombings at Hrodna and her subsequent imprisonment at Dzisna.

“Your life really is a Greek tragedy, isn’t it?”

“The only tragedy currently bothering me is my unnecessarily overprotective big brother.” She’d shot back.

He’d finally agreed to her request when she’d made it clear she wasn’t asking as his sister, but as a colleague with a vested interest in his medical career.

“The legendary Wound Man, Hans. Are you sure you want me to pass his case back to Dr. Keller? You’d be missing out.”

The cutting-edge Orthopedic implants fitted inside the man had been the subject of much discussion among heavyweights in his field for close to a decade.

She’d handed him the patient chart, lips curled in a smug sort of smile.

It isn’t until he meets The Wound Man himself that he realises he must’ve rubbed off on his sister more than he’d thought.

“Call me Lear.” The man holds out a hand; he shakes it begrudgingly, then pulls up a chair and sits down. They’d admitted him into the hospital hours before to get all the preliminary check-ups out of the way, and his chart is thick with newly-printed results. “And you must be Lieutenant Colonel Tandhekar.”

“Doctor.” He peers over at the other. “The war’s over, and as your girlfriend, my sister says, we’re all free to be ourselves now.” He uses the word deliberately. “Call me Strahan.”

Lear simply smiles in response.

“Perfect.” He flips open the chart, seeking out the pages his sister had once sent him - those filled with familiar designs he’d studied multiple times over the years. They’re beautiful. “Tell me about the implants. Dr Keller e-mailed the designs from your old implants, so if you’ve no complaints, we’ll go about manufacturing new ones exactly the same way. Unless of course, you need some modifications made, in which case - what can you tell me about the person who designed these?”

He can’t help asking - after all, that particular question has weighed heavily upon his mind for years now. Who designed the parts that helped this man to walk again?

“My mechanic?” Lear tilts his head, then supplies, with a bit of a smirk, “He’s a short, pretty bookworm with a wide forehead and droopy eyes.”

“Mechanic?” He raises a brow. Right, this one’s got a mouth on him. Rei had implied about as much. He recognises the obnoxious lilt - from the deeper reaches of memory, he remembers hearing the same voice teasing his sister. Aww, Naveau, you think I’m a work of art?

He peers at the man. “Right, the man who engineered your parts.” Mechanic indeed. How disrespectful.

“He likes to work from the ground-up - look straight at the anatomy first, see what he can come up with by himself, before referring to existing designs. He’s got a few generic ones of his own making by now.” Lear gestures towards the chart in his hands. “You’ve got some of them in there, too.”

“Well, considering your anatomy is pretty messed up at the moment…” He quirks his lip a bit. “I’d like to take a few scans and do some 3D imaging to have a better idea of what we’ll be dealing with in there. Also, I read in your chart that you got shot last year?”

“Bullet’s still in there.” Lear points to his shoulder. There’s a bit of a shit-eating grin on his face. He wonders, if only for a moment, exactly what his sister sees in the man. “My mechanic didn’t want to deal with it, so you’ll have to do the dirty work.”

“We’ll be replacing that entirely.” He glances down at the design specifications for the shoulder piece, noting the instructions for construction. “I also see here that your current parts are made of riskier, more reactive alloys. I’d recommend switching it up, so you don’t run the risk of rejection - your girlfriend’s brought me up to speed on your history, so we’ll also have to monitor you closely for post-op complications.”

That gets a smile out of Lear - one more genuine, he thinks. “That’s what my mechanic said, yeah. He recommended replacing the reactive alloys with lighter, more inert materials now that I’m retired from active combat.”

“Hm.” He flips the pages, scanning through the rest of the designs, then closes the binder and sets it aside. “We’ll get to work, then. Do you have any questions regarding the surgery? Any concerns?”

“Nah.” Lear leans back in his bed. “My mechanic explained most of it well enough. Something about him making sure the parts would stay in place by designing them so my muscles and blood vessels grow over and into them.” He brightens, his grin taking on a slightly sheepish cast as he lets out a vaguely uncomfortable laugh. “Apparently it’s not just a matter of putting the drill on reverse and ripping out the parts.”

“You don’t say.” He purses his lips and fights back the desire to smack the man upside the head. “I didn’t go through eight years of college and med school to drill on reverse and rip out parts.”

Lear chuckles heartily. “Good to know, Doctor.”

He’s halfway to the door by the time Lear calls out. When he turns around, the man asks, “Out of interest - which one are you looking forward to the most?”

The excitement bubbles within. He’s looked forward to this for a long time; to work with the designs of Lear’s so-called-mechanic is to work in the future. “Couldn’t say. I am eager to get you on the road to recovery, though. I think my sister deserves better days ahead with the man she loves in one piece instead of five, don’t you?”

Lear’s gaze softens a bit. There it is. That’s what she sees. “Yeah.”

“I’ll see you later, then.”

He makes his way downstairs. His sister’s inconvenient relationship aside, the Wound Man’s body houses actual medical works of art.

He’s excited - but even moreso, he’s honoured to work with them. One step closer to tomorrow’s medicine.

He gets right to it.

#emmbot writes #raindrop pendants au #anarei ilvait-sagen #lear ilvait-sagen #strahan tandhekar

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xofanfics · 7 years

Text

31 Days - Part 1

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You come to Korea to visit your family after you graduate from college. Soon, you find yourself falling for a guy you meet online. There’s only one problem—you’re only in the country for thirty-one days.

You weren’t sure what you expected when you landed in South Korea. You’d been here once, years ago, when you were young. You didn’t remember much, other than the fact that you went over the summer and that it was really hot and that you hated kimchi.

You probably wouldn’t even recognize your cousins even if they were standing in front of you. They were babies back then. But your dad had your cousins and aunt add you on Facebook before you left.

To be honest, you felt a little nervous about coming to Korea. Being born in New York, you definitely knew English better than you knew Korean. After all, you were only half Korean.

You grabbed your suitcase from the baggage claim. You were excited to be in Korea because you haven't been in years. But at the same time you were nervous. You didn't know the language very well and you wondered if people would know just by looking that you weren't one hundred percent Korean.

You let out a yawn and walked through Incheon to find the shuttle that would take you to Seoul Station. You were exhausted. You’d been on that flight for fourteen hours, with some little kid kicking your seat for the majority of the flight. And you had to take the train to Daegu, where your aunt and uncle would meet you.

“Y/N!”

You turned around to find your aunt standing next to the car outside of Daegu station. She looked really similar to your dad so it was pretty easy to spot the woman that called you. With a smile, you walked toward her and her husband.

“You’ve grown so much!” said your aunt, giving you a squeeze.

Your uncle followed up with a hug. “Was the flight long?” He took your bags and put them in the trunk of the car.

You climbed in the backseat. “Yeah. I’m going to be so jetlagged.”

Your aunt smiled at you from the passenger seat. “You have a whole month to get used to it.”

Your uncle got in the car and started driving away from the train station. “Are you excited to have graduated?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’m glad it’s over.”

“Were you thinking of going to grad school?”

“I’m going to take a year off before I decide,” you explained.

College had been tough. You were ecstatic once you graduated. Ninety percent of the problems in your life had gone away after you walked down the aisle. It was a relief not to have to worry about assignments, exams, or group papers.

You were grateful that your parents agreed to letting you go to Korea for a month before you came back to start your job. You got a job working for a small company in Brooklyn starting in February. If you could, you’d stay longer. You weren’t quite ready to start being an adult.

In fifteen minutes, you had arrived at your grandmother’s apartment. Your aunt and uncle led you inside, saying that your cousins were waiting to see you. As soon as she opened the door your cousins, Yuri and Yubin were in front of the door. You vaguely remembered them as kids, but barely. Yubin was the oldest. She was eighteen, while Yuri was fifteen.

“Hi,” you said shyly.

“Hey,” they said, in unison. They each gave you a quick hug before helping you with your bags. Your cousins led you into a room toward the back of the house. You entered the room that had been prepared for you. It was small, with a full sized bed, nightstand, and a dresser with a small television on top of it.

Your grandma came into the room. “Y/N?”

You turned around to smile at her. “Grandma!” You rushed over to hug her. It had been so long since you’d seen her last. You talked to her on the phone a few times in between, but it wasn’t too often since international calls cost a lot.

“How was the flight?”

“Good,” you said. “I’m just tired. I couldn’t sleep much. Not with a kid kicking my seat.”

She laughed and said, “Are you hungry? Let’s eat… We prepared dinner.”

You were tired, but you couldn’t sleep just yet. Your grandmother and aunt had prepared dinner and it was great. You had all the Korean foods that tasted a hell of a lot better here than back at home. You helped grill beef and wrapped it up with lettuce, rice, and vegetables. Your arrival in Korea was a special occasion because, according to Yubin, grandma “never cooks this much.”

After dinner, you hung out with your cousins in the living room while the adults stayed in the kitchen. Yuri turned the television on and put on the Youtube application. She turned to you and said, “What kind of music do you listen to?”

“I like Rihanna, the Weeknd…Do you know them?”

“I don’t think I know the Weeknd,” Yuri said, putting her hand on her chin. “Do you like Korean music?”

“I’ve heard a few songs,” you said, “but I don’t know any names, to be honest.”

Yuri turned on a music video and said, “Watch this and see if you like it.”

A guy with platinum blonde hair popped up on the screen first, with others behind him, moving left and right.

Yubin started singing. “She got me going crazy…”

“This is a group called EXO,” Yuri explained as her sister continued singing the lyrics in Korean. “Ever heard of them?”

“I have,” you told her. “One of my friends likes that group. She saw them last year when they came to the states but I didn’t go with her. She said she likes Chen. Who’s your favorite? Do you have one?”

Yuri nodded. “My bias is Baekhyun.”

Yubin said, “I’m not as into EXO but I liked Luhan. He left the group, though. Three whole people left the group, can you believe it?”

“Yeah, my friend from back home told me all about it. She really liked Luhan, too.”

Yubin sighed. “I hope no one from NCT leaves. They’re about to make a comeback, too.” She lowered her voice a little. “I kinda think they’re better than EXO right now…”

Yuri snapped, “Hey! I heard that.”

She smirked at her sister. “I’m just saying…I can’t wait to until the music video for Limitless is released. I can’t wait to see Johnny. He’s finally debuting.”

You nodded. “This song is pretty good. I like it. Have you been to their concert before?”

Yubin said, “Yeah. We went to one last year but the last time we tried to buy tickets, they sold out too quickly.”

Yuri said, “We’re going to a BTS fansign in two weeks, though. We both really like them. And I have a letter that I want to give to Jungkook.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You can do that? Actually give them things? I went to a fan meet before and we were lucky if we could even get a picture...”

“Really?” asked Yuri. “It’s not like that here.”

Yubin took a swig from her water bottle. “Do you wanna go with us?”

“Well, I don’t know. I don’t really know them,” you replied.

You had heard about how the fan meets could get. You didn’t want to have to wake up at six in the morning just to wait on line and have a couple seconds to say hi. Plus, you had no idea what BTS was or what it stood for or who the members were. You didn’t want to go up to them, ignorant and not knowing what to say.

“Well,” said Yuri, “if you change your mind, let us know. It’s in two weeks, on a Friday.”

Your aunt came out into the living room. “Come on, both of you have school tomorrow and studying to finish.”

Your cousins groaned and started to stand up. You had almost forgotten that, technically, they were both still high school students. Before leaving, they suggested that the three of you eat together after they came from their after school study group. They said they’d show you some good places to eat.

After they left, you went to the room you’d be staying in after saying goodnight to your grandmother. It had been a long day and you were a bit tired from the trip. You took off your clothes and got in the shower, washing away the dust you were sure you’d accumulated from the long plane ride.

By the time you got in bed, your eyes were low. You took your phone off of the charger for a moment, deciding to see if you could make some friends or something. You opened the whisper app. You typed in ‘Korea’ to see if there were any groups where you could chat with anyone. You found a group of people wanting to learn Korean. You posted in the group: Is anyone here in Korea?

Then you locked your phone and fell asleep almost instantly.

You rolled over, the morning sun peeking through the blinds. You reached for your phone on the nightstand and found that you had a new message from the Whisper app. A person with the username Taeberry95 had messaged you saying, I’m in Korea!

You wrote, I am too! I’m on vacation!

You looked at the person’s age. It said that they were somewhere between eighteen to twenty. Looking at the username, you figured you were talking to a girl.

Taeberry95: Are you Korean?

You: I’m half. I’m from NYC.

Taeberry95: Cool, I’m going there in March!

You: Are you Korean too?

Taeberry95: Yeah. 100%

You: I guess you know English pretty well

Taeberry95: Yeah, my friend helps me out

You: I know a little bit of Korean but not too much

Taeberry95: I can help you if you want to practice writing

You: So what city are you in, if you don’t mind me asking?

Taeberry95: Daegu

You: Me too

Taeberry95: Really?

You: Yeah. I’m visiting family.

Taeberry95: Do you know the area?

You: Not really. I haven’t been here since I was little

Taeberry95: I could give you some recommendations

You: That would help out a lot. Do you know where a bookstore is?

Taeberry95: There’s a bookstore called Kyobo. They sell english books there. Haha idk if you know enough Korean to read a whole book.

You: Lol you’re right. I don’t

Taeberry95: I’m always right ;)

You: Whatever lol

Taeberry95: Would you want to meet up sometime? I can take you to the bookstore.

Taeberry95: Sorry if it’s too forward, I was just wondering…

You: No, no, it wasn’t too forward.

You: Are you free today?

Taeberry95: Yeah, do you wanna meet today?

You: Sure, I’m meeting my cousins for dinner around 8 but we can hangout before then.

Taeberry95: How’s 4?

You: That works for me

Taeberry95: Do you have kakao?

You: Yeah. What’s your ID?

Taeberry95 gave you the kakao ID and messaged you first. Hey, it’s Tae.

My name is Y/N.

You got a picture message next. You were pleasantly surprised to find that Taeberry95 wasn’t a girl. Taeberry95 was a guy.

You wrote, You’re a guy? Lol

What? Did you think that I was a girl?

Um kinda…

Lmao nah, i’m a guy, he wrote. Anyway, this is me.

You searched through your phone library, deciding that you should send him a picture, too. The last thing you wanted was for this Korean guy to think that you were a catfish or something. You looked at his picture for a moment. He was good looking. His skin was darker than a lot of other Koreans you’d seen walking around and his lips were full. He had a great smile, you noticed, with almond shaped eyes that seemed so happy and full of life.

He was really attractive, you realized. Suddenly, you felt a lot less confident than you had, say, just a few minutes ago. What if he thought you were ugly? Immediately, you shook those negative thoughts out of your head. No, you thought. I’m thinking way too deep into this. He only asked you to meet up at the bookstore. It was a normal meetup. The two of you would probably just make small talk and talk about your favorite books. Did he even like reading? You shook your head. It wasn’t like you were meeting up to go on a date. How you looked shouldn’t matter.

You went through your camera roll and clicked on one of the three pictures you took on the plane before it took off. You chose the one where you thought your smile looked best and sent it to Tae.

He messaged you back immediately. You’re pretty :)

You smiled. You’re right. I am pretty.

He said, Lol so does that mean I’m ugly?

With the grin still plastered across your face, you typed, Not necessarily

Your heart started racing as you allowed Google Maps to guide you toward the bookstore. You had met up with people from social media before, but this was a bit different, You were in a completely different country with different culture and traditions. You hoped that you didn’t come off as rude. Americans have a bad reputation internationally, so you hoped that you’d make a good first impression.

You went inside the bookstore as you texted him to say that you were there. It was a cute little store,with cute little stationery items. As you started sorting through the pencils that they had, you heard your name. Whipping your head around, you found Tae. He was just as handsome as in the selfie he sent earlier, if not more.

He smiled brightly at you and waved. “Hey, Y/N!”

“Hey, how are you?”

You thought about hugging him because that’s what you’d normally do but you didn’t know him well enough for that. Koreans weren’t very touchy feely when it came to others unless it was their boyfriend or girlfriend or something like that. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off. He seemed really cool. After agreeing to meet up, you continued texting. You found out that he actually did like reading and that Harry Potter was one of his favorite series, though he hadn’t had time to read the last three. He’d said, “I saw the movies, though!”

“You like stationery?” he asked.

You shrugged. “It’s cute, but I’ve never really considered buying any.”

He smiled. “Let’s look at some books.”

“Okay,” you said, following him.

He walked toward the back of the bookstore, where the books for young adults were. You came across a bunch of familiar titles that you’d seen in Barnes & Noble back home. He picked up Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. “I haven’t had time to finish this one.”

“What have you been doing?”

He said, “Oh, I’ve just been working...”

“I just graduated from college so I’m here for a month.”

“Do you know what you want to do?”

“I want to work for a while. I was thinking of going to graduate school. I’m just not sure what I want to do,” you explained. “I got a job. I start next month as a Digital Marketing Assistant.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“What kind of work do you do?” you asked, shifting through books.

Tae sat down against the wall, book in hand. “I go to cyber university and also work at an entertainment company.”

“I know music and movies are really big here, but I don’t know any of the companies or the artists.” You sat down next to him, beginning to flip through one of the books you found. “Do you listen to K-pop?”

“All the time.”

“My cousins seem to like it a lot. They showed me a group called EXO. The song was called ‘Monster.’ Do you know it?”

He nodded. “They’re really popular these days.”

“They want me to go to a fanmeet with them too. I forgot what group they said.”

“You should go,” he said. “It might be fun.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Maybe I will. I was thinking of going shopping nearby while they go to it.”

“Are you into fashion?”

“A little bit. I like shopping every now and then. I could use some new clothes. What about you?”

“I like clothes. I wasn’t rich or anything growing up so I kind of just wore whatever I got, you know?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t rich either.”

“But I’m making a lot more money now so I can buy more things.”

You nodded. “I saved up a lot of money for this trip. While I was in school, I worked at Starbucks part-time.”

“I’m actually kind of thirsty. Do you want to get bubble tea? We can come right back if you want,” he said, chuckling, “or if I’m too weird, you can leave.”

You shook your head, joining in his laughter. “You’re not too weird.”

He stood up, putting the book he had back on the shelf. “Are you sure? You’re not lying to me, are you?”

“No,” you said, “I’m not lying to you. Don’t worry.”

And he shot you that sweet smile again.

#kim taehyung #taehyung #bts taehyung #bts v #bangtan boys #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bangtan smut #bangtan fluff #bangtan angst #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts #bts army

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