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hyunniesgirl · 3 months

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Bad intentions | Part 1

Pairing: nerd!Han Jisung x popular!reader(afab)

Summary: you thought you could turn Han Jisung into the perfect boyfriend material so you can get revenge on your cheating ex. Little did you know that you would end up getting much more than just a guy to show off.

Genre: fluff, angst, smut(for the story in general, this part has no smut)

Words count: 8,056

Slightly inspired in the movie She's All That

*This is the second fic to my series Love is a mess. The stories can be read as standalones but they are all connected so some details mentioned may sound off.

Disclaimer: Jisung is proud asf, OC has kind of a sad backstory and has anxiety(not explored very deeply but there are descriptions of her symptoms), this part is just suggestive so no smut

Part 2

This story is NSFW and is going to have +18 themes so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

A/N: okay for the sake of the plot let's pretend for a moment that Han Jisung can be considered anything other than smocking hot, alright?

A/N²: My idea was for all the stories from this series to be oneshots but I just kept writing and writing and this one was almost 13k already and I haven't even gotten to the good part so I thought "I almost never read anything over 10k" so I split the oneshot for the sake of my readers attention span.

Jisung likes to think that he's better than all the guys fawning over you, he likes to think that even if he had a chance, he'd never lust over you. But well, sometimes a strong denial turns out to be an implicit affirmation.

It all started in social studies, he was trying to go over his notes for the test but the conversations happening at the same time didn't let him pay any attention to what was written in the sheets. There were five different conversations happening at the same time, but they all had the same subject: you.

Apparently, you had a boyfriend who cheated on you with a girl from a rival university? Or some trivial shit like that. Jisung doesn't understand why that matters to anyone but you and the said boyfriend. He doesn't understand why everyone feels like such a painful experience is any of their business. But he guesses it comes with the job.

Everyone knows you, you're the classic cheer captain, who dates — or dated — the infamous quarterback in the football team. People envy you, cherish you, they want to be you and he always thought they loved you, but after hearing so many snarky comments about you in the last 20 minutes, he's actually starting to pity you.

You wanted to kill him, Seunghoon, that bastard. He destroyed a relationship of a year just to get in someone's pants? Fucking idiot. You hate him so much for cheating on you, but you hate him the most for not showing up kneeling at your door and asking for forgiveness. Who does he think he is? He would never have gotten his position on the football team if it wasn't for you, everyone knows that.

It's an understatement to say you are always the best in everything you put your mind into and if you're not the best by nature, you work hard until you become the best. You are smart, pretty, popularity is your thing, you're used to getting everyone's attention wherever you go. Everyone loves you, or at least they pretend well enough.

So when you started dating this guy, who was a nobody it was pretty shocking for everyone else. You turned him into the most popular guy so he could stay by your side, so you expected a little bit of loyalty from him. Guess that was expecting too much from a horny dog like him.

You did love Seunghoon, you wouldn't have dated him for a year if you didn't. But his character was always questionable, that, you won't deny. There's that saying that love makes you blind but you knew that he's no good and yet stayed with him, that's on you.

You can't stand the pity looks people give you when you walk down the hallway, they could at least pretend they are not talking shit about you behind your back.

To think the semester has only just started, you wish you could take a year off to make sure things die down nicely. But if you do, you'll definitely lose your position as cheer captain, there are too many people willing to get rid of you so they can get your title.

It's best for you to try and get rid of these thoughts, so you hold your head high turning on a corner, decided to pretend everything is okay. That's when you bump into someone, dropping the books you have in your hands and your phone screen down on the floor, gasping immediately, the last thing you need right now is a broken phone.

When you lean over to collect your things, the person who bumped into you does the same, going for the phone at the same time and touching hands with you. A strange wave of electricity makes your whole body shiver by that touch, making you snap your head in the direction of the person.

You know him. He's one of the members of 3racha, a music group everyone loves. Curiously, this is the first time you have seen him outside of a presentation. He's clearly different from the other members, wearing baggy clothes and displaying a hair that's undeniable too long with some questionable choice of colors on it. You can't even really see his eyes, however, he has something about him that makes you refuse to take your eyes off him.

He grabs your book and phone, ignoring your shameless stare. Standing up and handing your things to you.

“Sorry, I can pay for your phone's repair”, he says and for the first time in a minute you can divert your eyes from him, looking at the screen, absolutely shattered and sighing.

“No, it's okay. I was the one who was distracted”, you smile, tucking your hair behind your ear. Why do you feel the sudden urge to flirt with him? He's not even your type. Or at least, that's what you think.

He hums, not really interested, taking a paper out of his bag and writing something on it.

“Here, this is my number if you change your mind”, he gives you the paper, saying goodbye and disappearing somewhere in the hallway.

When you finally meet Seunghoon, he doesn't even apologize, actually, he doesn't look regretful at all. He has a smug smile, as if what he did is not serious, as if he's better than you now.

You always had a thought in the corner of your mind that maybe he had some kind of inferiority complex when it came to you, but you didn't think he would go as far as to cheat on you just to prove he is better in some way.

“You don't harbor hard feelings, right?” He smirks, chin up. “I know you're much better than me, I'm sure you won't mind what happened and we can still be friends”, he's mocking you, you recognize that tone.

You're grasping the fabric of your skirt under the table, did he really pull you away from your practice to say this? The audacity of this man.

“Of course I don't mind”, you smile kindly, acting as unbothered as you possibly can. This is something you learned in so many years of having eyes on you all the time: pretend. You won't give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry or even get mad. If you are able to pretend you don't care at all about him, that's what you're gonna do.

“I'm glad-”, his smile falters a bit, you are sure he expected you to break. That shows how little he knows about you, you would never make a scene in public.

“Actually, I'm even seeing someone else already”, you blurt out, trying to make him more baffled and it works, he frowns and the look of confusion in his face is priceless.

“Well, that's great for you”, Seunghoon clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. “We should definitely go on a double date sometime”

“Of course, I'd love that”, you nod, standing up. “I'll be going now, but it was great seeing you”, you lie, turning around and walking back to the gymnasium.

When it sinks in what you just did, you want to hit your head against the wall. What the hell was that? Why would you even tell him you're seeing someone when you're not? For fucksake, you're sure he's too proud to let this go, he'll try to find out who it is that you're seeing and when he finds out you lied, you'll be done for, faced with utter humiliation again.

“Why would you tell him you're seeing someone?” Mina asks, looking at you like you are the dumbest person alive, and honestly, you do feel like that at the moment.

“I don't know”, you cry out, “I guess I wanted him to feel miserable”

“And look where that got you”, Miyeon says, worriedly.

“I know, I'm an idiot”, you tell them and your friends nod, making you glare at them. “Well, I guess I'll just have to find a new boyfriend”, you say, dreadfully.

“You know it's not that easy”, Mina says, “you built Seunghoon from the scratch to the guy he is today, it won't have the same effect if you get just anybody that people already see everyday, it has to be shocking”

“Well, I don't know”, you sigh, “is there even someone like that here?”

“I don't know”, Miyeon says, “you need someone charming, someone who people can't take their eyes off”

“It won't be good if he's already known, it should be someone who's usually invisible”, Mina completes.

You sigh, there's only one person you can think of who instantly fits that description.

“What about him?” Miyeon takes you out of your thoughts, pointing to someone behind you. “Isn't he part of 3racha?”

“I mean, he fits what we are looking for”, Mina says.

You turn around, finding the guy you bumped on a few days ago sitting at the table behind you, you're sure you can remember his name if you just try a little harder. He's sitting with Changbin, the other guy from 3racha who is kind of your friend.

“But is there something for you to do there?” Mina looks at him with squinted eyes, trying to see how you could improve him.

“He's cute”, you check him out shamelessly, nodding to yourself.

“I'm not sure if you could make Seunghoon jealous with cuteness”, she shrugs.

“He's not just cute”, you bit your bottom lip, thinking hard. “He could use a different haircut and maybe a new wardrobe but I see a lot of potential in there”

“Well”, Mina sighs in defeat, “let's make a bet them”

“Are you in middle school?” You ask her, rolling your eyes.

“If you can make Seunghoon regret cheating on you, I'll give up on trying for cheer captain next semester”, she ignores your question, stretching her hand for you to shake it.

“As if you were going to win anyway”, you joke.

Of course she could win, Mina is your best friend and also the best dancer you know, she could easily steal your position if you didn't try so hard to keep it, so you do what you have to do, shaking her hand even though you don't have a good feeling about it.

It's been a few days since you decided to make Jisung your new boyfriend, you just haven't figured out how to approach him. For starters, you can't even find him in this damn university, how the hell can a member from a trio as popular as 3racha just walk around without being noticed? That's a mystery you'll have to solve later.

“Jisung? Why would you want me to set you up with him?” Changbin asks, confused.

“Well, I find him cute”, you shrug, that's not a lie.

“He's not your type, he's totally different from Seunghoon”, he stares at you with a brow raised, sipping from his drink.

“Why would I want someone like Seunghoon? My reputation is almost ruined because of that guy”, you say.

“You got a point”, Changbin sighs, “let me talk to him first”, he can feel something is up but with all the mess happening in his life already, he doesn't have the energy to dig any deeper.

Jisung stares at his friend for about five minutes, no words being said. Why would someone like you want to go out with someone like him?

He's pretty popular because of 3racha, but not near as popular as you or your friend group. Everyone knows he's an awkward guy, when he's on stage his personality changes, he's confident, it feels great, like he could conquer the world, but when he goes back to real life, he just doesn't feel the need to be perceived. Jisung doesn't have a reason to be popular outside of the stage, he's fine with being invisible.

“So, what do you think?” Changbin asks.

“I don't know”, Jisung shrugs.

“Think carefully, it's not everyday that someone like y/n wants to go on a date with an ordinary guy”, the older one insists.

Well, maybe he likes being ordinary. He always thought he wouldn't be like those guys who would do anything for a pretty girl, now it's his chance to prove it.

“You can tell her that I appreciate the thought, but I don't think it's a good idea”, Jisung says, confidently. Even though he wants to punch himself after saying it.

Changbin sighs.

“If you're sure about it”, he shrugs, standing up and walking to the kitchen.

What if he's just letting his prejudice get in the way of meeting someone nice? He sighs to himself, there's nothing he can do about it now.

Well, that's unexpected. Did you go so low as to be rejected by just anybody? How could Jisung not even accept a single date with you? Are you ugly? No, you're sure it's not that. Are you boring? It's not that either, of course. You don't think there's a single thing that would make him turn you down. Maybe you're not his type? No, you're everyone's type.

You won't give up, though. Han Jisung has too much potential for you to just leave him be, you're sure you can make him be even better than Seunghoon ever was. So you march to social studies, you asked Changbin who reluctantly told you that Jisung takes that class.

You enter the classroom earning a few glances, smiling kindly at the people you know and introducing yourself to the ones you don't.

Jisung is seated in the corner, writing something on his notebook, earbuds on. You walk up to him, sitting by his side and waiting for him to notice you, which doesn't take long. He feels a presence too close to him, making him turn to look at you.

He frowns, taking his earbuds slowly, trying to process your present so close to him.

“How can I help you?” He asks and you tilt your head, he's even cuter up close.

“I heard you turned me down”, you say, leaning over the desk to watch him.

“Yeah, sorry”, he shrugs nonchalantly, hurting your pride even more. He should feel at least a bit apologetic, shouldn’t he?

“What do I have to do for you to go out with me?” You push more. You even came here looking for him, you're not going to be discouraged just by a bit of indifference.

“Why do you want to go out with me anyway?” He frowns, it’s not that he doesn’t want to say yes, it’s just that every time that he feels tempted to actually lust over you his pride gets a little more hurt, did you think there was no chance of you being rejected by him?

“Well, I like you. You're cute”, you tell him as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“You don't even know me”, he scoffs, ignoring the fact that you called him cute.

“That's exactly why I want to go out with you, dummy. So I can get to know you better”, you smile, knowing he won't be able to get out of this situation without telling you why he won't go out with you.

“Well, you’re not my type”, he clears his throat, adjusting himself on his seat and trying to sound convincing, you’re clearly everyone’s type. “And I don’t think we would have much to talk about”

You’re going to fight him on this, argue that you’re a very interesting person that can talk about a lot of things, but the professor enters the classroom, eyeing you and tilting his head in confusion, since you passed this class last semester.

“I’m going to let it go for now”, you stand, “but don’t think you’re getting rid of me”, you huff, walking out of the class. He sure is stubborn, but you’re more.

Jisung feels like he's in those movies with a stalker following him around. You know, when the protagonist is sure that someone is watching them but every time they look around there's no one there? Except that in his case, you're always there. Every place he goes has you in it, glaring at him.

You're not actually glaring at him, even though he thinks you're. You're just shocked that he still hasn't come around to accepting going out with you, so you have to stare at him because you have to understand him. Why is he so different from the other guys? Of course you don't think you're better than anyone, but since news of your break up with Seunghoon broke out, your phone has been blowing up with texts from guys you didn't even know had your number, saying weird things and asking you out. So why is the only person you want to hear from, not giving a shit about you?

You ask Changbin's help but he refuses to meddle anymore than he already has, saying that he knows your intentions are not entirely good so he won't help anymore.

“Did you know we have a class with your new crush?” Mina says while looking at herself in the mirror of the clothes store you're visiting.

“What?” You take your eyes out of your phone to look at her, you have been staring at your screen for thirty minutes, trying to fight the urge to just call Jisung. He gave you his number so you could charge him with the repair of your broken phone but you already had it fixed, maybe you could use that little incident to your advantage.

“We have French with him, you chose Spanish, right?” Miyeon asks, looking around to see if she likes anything.

“Are you for real?” You ask and she looks at you, nodding. “Do you think there are still open spots in your class?” You ask, lost in thoughts.

“You're not going to switch classes just so you can get close to him, right?” Mina turns around to look at you, a brow raised in questioning. “Right?” She presses after you don't answer.

“I kinda prefer French though”, you smirk, standing up. “The school's office is still open now, isn't it?” You ask and both of your friends exchange looks, sighing and shaking their heads, sure that you're a lost cause.

It was not difficult to switch classes, you used up all your charm with the office’s secretary so she wouldn't argue too much about it. You just need a warm smile, some tiramisu and to compliment her nails.

You enter the class smiling victoriously, seeing your friends seated side by side and finding Jisung sitting alone in the back. You waltz over there, putting your things on the desk and sitting by his side.

Jisung takes a deep breath, side eyeing you for a moment.

“Are you serious right now?” He sighs, “you know you can't just keep coming to my classes, right? That's lowkey stalking”, he argues, making you chuckle.

“I don't know what you're talking about”, you shrug, “I'm enrolled in this class”, you tell him, pulling a paper with your schedule printed on it and showing it to him. “This is the only spot available”

He looks around to check, biting his bottom lip, embarrassed. He should have checked before assuming things but that doesn't change the fact that you have been around him too much lately.

“Okay”, he sighs, fidgeting on his seat.

“If I'm really making you uncomfortable I can find somewhere else to sit”, you say, even though you want to make him give in and accept to go out with you, you don't want him to feel genuinely bothered by you.

Jisung on the other hand feel likes he can give in at any moment, the second time he saw you looking at him he wanted to stand up and just go to you, telling you he would accept to go out with you, fuck his pride.

“It's okay”, he clears his throat, “You can sit whatever you want”, he says, making you smirk.

“I mean, are you sure?” You lean in his direction, glancing at his lap.

Jisung chokes immediately, coughing so much he thinks he's going to die, you didn't mean what he thinks you do, right?

Class starts before you can mess with him a little bit more, you didn't think you would have so much fun teasing someone.

Jisung stands up and leaves as soon as the professor says the class ended, he doesn't want to stay close to you for a minute more. He couldn't pay attention to class because your scent kept coming his way. He would glance at you and you wouldn't even be acknowledging him, paying 100% of attention in class. It did make him upset that he didn't seem to cause the same reaction in you as you do to him.

Except that, as stated before, you're very good at pretending. You really wanted to tease him every time you caught him staring at you, you could see everything he was doing with your peripheral vision and you wanted to giggle with every time he pouted while looking at you.

That's proof enough for you that not being his type it's not the reason why he's reluctant to go out with you but you didn't even think about the possibility of him not liking girls at all.

“As far as I know, he does like girls”, Changbin tells you. “I'm not sure about guys though, maybe he does too?”

“Well, that's good then”, you sigh, crossing your arms and nodding to yourself, lost in thoughts.

Changbin stares at you for a moment, with a brow raised. “Binnie, can't you help me out? Just this once” You plead again, giving him puppy eyes.

“Nope, I'm not sure what your intentions are but what I know is that you don't do things without a reason”, he shakes his head.

You sigh, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue, you know how to convince Changbin but it's the first time in your life that you have to resort to such dirty methods.

“You know, I met someone really nice one of these days”, you tell him, smiling friendly. “She's really cute and she has been helping me in a class we have together”, Changbin glares at you. “I think you know her, but she doesn't seem to like you at all…” You pout, making a show.

“What are you trying to say?” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I'm trying to say that if you help me out, I can do the same”, you shrug, “you have so many virtues, Binnie, I'm confident I can make her see you in a different light”

You can at least try to convince her that Changbin is a good guy even though she's absolutely sure that he's bad news.

“Are you saying I should sell out my best friend so you can help me?” You see Changbin hesitate and that's when you push a little more.

“Come on, it's not like I'll do something awful to him”, you say, “I just want one date”

He sighs, nodding.

“Okay, alright”, he grunts. “I'll help you out just this one time and that's it”

“You're the best!” You say, clapping your hands excitedly.

This is definitely not how you thought the help would happen. The sun is burning your skin and the giggles of people around you are making you stressed. A pool party, why did he think this was going to be a good idea?

Just because you're at the same party as Jisung it doesn't mean you'll get a chance to talk to him or even accomplish your goal but even though the odds are against you, you are still going to try.

The day is too hot, the pool is bustling with people and you're uncomfortable in your bikini. In most days you love your body, you think you're pretty just the way you are but sometimes you have bad days, where you feel like everyone is staring at every single flaw you have.

You came to the party because you couldn't lose the opportunity but you can't see Jisung anywhere and your anxiety is only growing bigger. So as soon as you get the chance to escape, you do it. You wander around the frat house, looking for a place with no one, maybe Changbin's room is empty since he pretty much doesn't live in the house.

You walk up the stairs, swerving in the middle of the crowd who are talking and laughing with drinks in their hands, it's very overwhelming.

The corridor where the rooms are have less people, so you walk until the end to find Changbin's nameplate on the door. You knock twice to make sure there's no one there, the music in the pool is pretty loud so you can't hear if there are voices in the room but you wait a few seconds so people can get dressed if there is someone fucking there. You open the door slowly, finding the room empty. Hurrying inside and closing the door so no one sees you going in.

It's a pretty huge room with things that suit Changbin's personality to a T. There's gym equipment all over the place, a big bed in the middle, a door you can only guess leads to a private bathroom and a TV that you're not sure was ever used. But again, your friend only comes by the house once in a while since he lives in an apartment downtown with Chan and Jisung.

Changbin managed to convince Jisung that it would be a good way to promote 3racha if they threw a party and it didn't take much convincing to the frat president since that guy loves partying.

You sit by the bed, trying to take deep breaths. The burning sensation in your chest is easing a bit with the calm and silence of the room. Silence that is immediately interrupted by the door of the bathroom being opened, just to show a half naked Han Jisung coming out of there with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

You two stare at each other for a minute, both not sure what to do next, both frozen. You manage to stand up, turning your back to him, face burning with embarrassment.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know there was someone already here”, you clarify. “I- I knocked on the door”, you inform him as if that could change anything.

Jisung finds your reaction funny, he didn't take you for the shy type, who gets flustered by seeing a man like this.

“I was showering, I didn't hear the knock”, he says, walking to Changbin's wardrobe to get some clothes he leaves there for eventual emergencies since the frat house is closer than his house to the university.

“Yeah, I guessed that”, you gulp, trying to calm your beating heart. You didn't get to take a good look at him, but the little you did made you quite surprised. Jisung is pretty athletic and hot.

“You can turn around now”, he says. You do it slowly, still embarrassed.

“I'm sorry again”, you sigh.

“It's okay, it can happen”, he shrugs, sitting on the bed. He can't help but look at you too for a moment, you're wearing a deep green bikini that goes perfectly with the tone of your skin. You have a thin transparent shirt that doesn't leave much to the imagination making him bite his bottom lip. If you try to make a move on him again right now, he won't be able to say no.

However, his not very pure thoughts are interrupted by your uneasiness, shifting your weight from a leg to another, hands trying to cover your thighs. Did he look at you for too long? Did he make you uncomfortable? Jisung diverts his gaze from you immediately, he's always proud to say that he's not the same as the other guys who are just horny and nothing more, but look at him now.

“I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable”, he stands up, ready to leave the room, “I'm sorry”

“No, you didn't make me uncomfortable”, you say, taking a step closer to him to stop him from leaving. “I was already feeling not great”, you clarify.

“Did something happen?” He asks, worried.

“No- I-”, you stop yourself from talking more, why do you actually want to talk to him about your problems? You don't even know him. “I'm having a bad day, my self esteem is kinda low so I feel like everyone is staring at every single flaw I have”

Jisung stops for a moment, malfunctioning. His head tilting to the side as he stares at you with furrowed brows.

“Exactly which “flaws” are we talking about?” He asks, making quotes with his fingers.

“I don't know”, you glance down to your feet, feeling embarrassed. “There are so many girls here who are much prettier than me”, you sigh, “oh, I'm not jealous of them, they are great. I'm a huge activist of women hyping up other women”, you add quickly. “Usually I won't let myself compare to other people, but when I'm having one of these days I just can't help to think things like: is my hair pretty enough? Should I go on a diet? Maybe I should hit the gym more often so I can look like that”, you sigh, you sound ridiculous. You are supposed to make him want to go out with you, not scare him with all your insecurities.

Jisung stares at you for a few seconds, realization hitting him. So you're human too, he already knew that, but seeing the pretty and popular y/n come out of the pedestal people built for her, makes him believe that maybe you're very different from what he thought about you.

“I'm sure you don't need me to tell you this”, Jisung clears his throat, trying to not sound like an idiot, “but I think you're pretty and even though you may have some flaws, everyone has. I can assure you yours are not in your looks”

You feel your cheeks growing hotter, that's surprising, a guy never managed to make you blush.

“But you said I'm not your type”, you pout, seizing the opportunity to tease him.

“Well, I had to say something so you would stop coming after me”, he sighs, “clearly it didn't work”

“So, will you go out with me?” You ask, hopeful and he sighs.

“Why do you want to go out with me so badly?”

“I already told you, you're cute. Also, you make me feel at ease”, it's not a lie. Jisung is the first person other than your friends that effortlessly makes you comfortable.

“Fine”, he huffs, “I already gave you my number so just text me”, he tells you and you smile, is this finally happening? Did he finally say yes?

You planned a whole date in an amusement park, it's cliche for a first date, although you never really went on a date there. You have never done this before for any guy you dated, but there's something about Han Jisung, you just want him to like you.

He's waiting for you in front of the park, looking nervous while scrolling through his phone. You bend down a bit, tilting your head to make him notice you.

“Hey”, you smile waiting for his greeting that doesn't come. Jisung is not easily impressionable but you just leave him speechless every time, he always takes a few seconds to take in your beauty before his brain starts functioning again.

That's the reaction you wanted from him and you are glad you managed to get it. You spent almost four hours getting ready, changed outfits at least ten times and did and redid your makeup over and over. In the end, you chose a natural look. You put on a tight high waisted skirt, a tank top and sneakers since you would be walking a lot. Your hair is down and your make-up is light, so it won't get smudged by hot weather.

“H-hi”, Jisung says, trying to recompose himself, he's not sure if he should comment on how pretty you look or if that would make you uncomfortable.

He can't help but think that it's wrong of him to be there with someone like you, someone totally out of his reach.

“What should we do first?” You ask excitedly, it's been years since the last time you went to an amusement park with your family.

“I think we can walk for a bit and see what catches our attention”, he says and you nod, walking into the park.

There are so many people, Jisung can't help but notice how you're looking around like a child getting to know a new place.

“Do you come often to these kinds of places?” He asks.

“Hm, not really”, you answer, turning around to look at him. “The last time was when I was a child probably”

“Oh?” He frowns. “You seemed excited, I thought your ex boyfriend must have brought you here at least a few times”

“Yeah, well, he was not really the romantic type”, you shrug, a sad smile on your lips.

Jisung doesn't like that, you always look confident and happy, he doesn't want to see you sad again.

“He is an idiot then”, he avoids your gaze, looking around while speaking, “If I had a girlfriend like you, I would move heavens and earth to make her happy”

You feel your heart skip a bit, your cheeks growing warmer and in a few seconds your whole face is burning. You can't believe Han Jisung is making you blush again, saying these words that are messing with your heartbeat.

“Should we go to the haunted house?” You ask awkwardly, trying to change the subject, pointing to the building at the end of the park. You try not looking at him, not sure if your cheeks are still red.

He hums, not really understanding why you look so flustered, he's sure you must hear this kind of thing all the time.

You two enter the house, looking around while walking into the dark. You were very confident in the beginning, you love horror movies, but jump scares are really not your cup of tea and that's the problem. The moment a doll(you assume) holding a knife with a ghost face mask pops out of nowhere you jump… into Jisung's arms. The way his arms immediately wrap around you in a protective position does something to your heart and honestly you feel hot all over.

You didn't even notice the little scares he got, or how he squeezed you every time some scary character showed up. The only thing you noticed was his unexpected strong arms embracing you the whole time until you left the haunted house.

Jisung didn't want to let you go. The moment he felt the cold breeze touching his skin, he knew he had to step back, you are not scared anymore. But he just doesn't want to. You look fragile, shy, endearing. Jisung shakes his head, he shouldn't be thinking this, he thought he would be immune to your charms, but it turns out that he understands now why all those guys fawned over you.

He tries taking a step back, threatening to get away from you but you snuggle closer to him, a hand swinging fast to your shoulder so you could grip his hand in place.

“Can- can you keep holding me for a bit?” You ask awkwardly, not really wanting to look him in the eye.

You had no idea you missed being touched this much, you never noticed how cold Seunghoon’s touch was until you felt Jisung's warm hands on you. You're embarrassed for looking so fragile in front of him but not enough for you to let go, not at that moment.

“Yeah, sure”, he tells you, coming closer again and squeezing you against his chest. “Should we walk around for a bit?”

You nod, too lost in his scent to say anything.

Jisung felt strange for a moment. He's not used to letting his instincts take control, he's a very restrained guy. But he can't help but peek at your thighs when the skirt you're wearing rides up a bit, you're tiptoeing while trying to shoot the target with the water gun you have in your hands, like that would help you win.

“Do you really want that plushie?” He asks when you lose once more. “You could probably buy a better one with the money you're spending”, he points out and you pout.

“Where's the fun in that?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. “It's so much more exciting to win the prize”

Jisung finds you cute, you are just so different from all the rumors and how he thought you would be. Other than being someone who's high and mighty or arrogant, you're cute and funny.

Defeated, he sighs, paying for another round. This time he's the one trying.

It's difficult the first time. He never played this game so he has to get used to and understand how to win.

Jisung doesn't notice but you're not looking at the booth or to the target, you're looking at his face. He looks more handsome when he's focused, he has his lips pressed in a thin line and his grip on the water gun makes you shudder just thinking about how that grip would feel on you.

After a few tries, Jisung wins, asking you to choose what plushie you want.

“That one”, you point to the big quokka hanging in the wall. “It looks a bit like you”, you say when you get the plushie, lifting enough so you can compare it with Jisung.

“I'm cuter”, he pouts.

“Definitely”, you assure him, hugging your new plushie while Jisung’s ears grow hotter.

“Should we go to the ferris wheel?” He asks, looking at the time. It'll probably be your last ride since it's already late.

“Yes!” You jump excitedly, “I never had the chance before”, you say while you two walk in the direction of the big attraction.

“Not even when you were a child?” He asks, remembering you said that was the last time you went to an amusement park.

“My parents are not very fun to be around and my little brother was too young”, you say, shaking your head, “I was never very proficient in doing things by myself so I just didn't go”, you shrug.

Jisung feels that there's more to unpack into that topic, but he's not sure if you want to talk about it with him or right now. So he just slides his arm over your shoulder, surprising you by his bold move. You can feel your cheeks growing hot, are you blushing again?

When you hear the gears turning, excitement spreads all over your body but as soon as the cabin stops in the air, you're not so confident anymore.

“It's quite high, isn't it?” you say, looking down, feeling a little dizzy.

“Are you afraid of heights?” Jisung asks, panicked, seeing your face turning pale.

“No, of course not”, you shake your head frantically while shrinking in your seat, “I can't, I'm always at the top of the pyramid in our cheer stunts”, you tell him.

A sudden wave of air brushes over the cabin, making it shake slightly and you turn even more pale if that's even possible.

“You know it's different right?” He grabs you by the arm, pulling you closer to him. Jisung slides one of his hands on your waist, squeezing you close to him and with the other hand he cups your face, making you look at him. “Keep looking at me, you don't have to look down”

Jisung doesn't know why he feels this urge to protect you, of all the people he knows, you're probably the one he thinks needs the least protection. You keep staring at him, he is pretty, his lips are plump and inviting.

“Are you going to kiss me?” You ask when he licks his lips, huge doe eyes staring at him and waiting.

“Do you want me to?” He asks back, not really sure of what to do. Jisung is not certain, his heart is beating fast and his hands are sweating, you look so beautiful, so close to him.

So when you nod, he just loses control of every part of himself that was holding him back. He's sure after this, there's no going back, he's lost forever, but maybe he doesn't mind if it means it's you he's lost in.

His lips are soft, clumsily pressing against yours. You can tell he's unsure of how to proceed then why does his grip on you make you burn? He's squeezing your waist against his body like you're going to disappear if he doesn't hold you strongly and the hand he has cupping your cheeks, slowly slides to your hair, pulling it lightly, making you whimper.

In an instant his lips are not on yours anymore, he's trailing kisses down to your neck. You shiver, feeling his warm lips against your cold skin.

“Ah, Ji-Jisung”, you gasp when he bites your neck, sucking the area so deliciously it makes you bite your lips so you won't moan.

He hears your plea, kissing you once again and you notice you are the one that didn't know how to proceed. You've been squirming in his hands this whole time without touching him at all. You take a hand to his face, caressing his cheek and the other goes to his hip, pulling you even closer to him but before you can go further, the shake of the cabin going back down takes you out of your haze. You're in public, you had absolutely forgotten about that.

You stop the kiss, giving a peck on his lips before moving away. He looks disheveled, lips swollen and eyes searching for yours in an attempt to know exactly what you are thinking. Did you like it? Did you hate it? Now that he got a taste of something he should have remained oblivious to, he's not sure he'll be able to let go.

The ride home was awkward, to say the least. You are silent the whole time and Jisung is freaking out. He can't help but think he screwed up really badly. How the hell could he make you lose all interest with just a couple of kisses? Did he go too far by giving you a hickey? Maybe you don't like this kind of thing, you're a cheerleader after all, your image is important.

You on the other hand, have too many thoughts running through your mind, never did a man make you feel so desired with just a kiss. The way he embraced you so possessively was too much for you, Seunghoon never did anything like that. You were always the one searching for his touch, for some affection but it was never quite enough. His touches never really gave you what you wanted, you always thought it was weird, you thought maybe there was something wrong with you.

But how could Jisung make you feel so many things with a simple touch? A simple kiss? You're so lost in thoughts that you don't even notice when the car stops.

“We’re here”, Jisung says, not really looking at you.

You look at him, seeing him biting his bottom lip while squeezing the wheel.

“I had fun”, you tell him, shyly. His head snaps at you, a deep scowl on his face.

“You did?” He asks confused and you giggle, tilting your head.

“Yeah”, you bite your bottom lip, leaning over him without breaking eye contact. “I thought I made it clear by almost melting in your arms while you kissed me”, you tease, seeing his ears growing red.

“I thought maybe I did something wrong, you were quiet”, he looks at you waiting for some more reassurance.

“I'm sorry”, you cup his face, caressing his cheek, “it's been a long time since I felt the way you made me feel, I needed time to recover”, you tell him, pulling him in for a brief kiss.

“Wait, but what about-”

“That's what I'm telling you”, you chuckle, bitterly, “can you imagine feeling more in a night than you ever felt in a year with someone else? It really makes a girl think”

“Ah”, he nods, understanding what you're saying now. “Then, can I call you when I get home?” He asks eagerly, now that he knows that you did enjoy your time with him.

“I'd be mad if you didn't”, you give a peck on his lips, getting out of the car and walking to your front door, waving goodbye to him.

Walking into your empty house you come back to reality. For a moment, just a moment, while having fun with Jisung, you forgot how lonely you really are. It's always been like this, you're already used to it.

Your parents always wanted a boy, so it was disappointing for them when they had a girl. They tried for years to have a boy, getting more and more frustrated as time went by. You were five when they finally made it, their desired son was born and you were left aside.

It's not like they gave you any attention before, but after your brother was born, you were completely forgotten. The first time you went to an amusement park was when you were eight. It was your birthday and you begged them to take you there but in the end you couldn't really enjoy anything. Your brother was too little to play in anything and your parents didn't really want to play with you.

You feel a single tear run down your cheek but you shake your head, you shouldn't be doing that right now. You had fun with Jisung but that's that, you don't want another heartbreak the same as with Seunghoon.

You feel your phone buzzing, taking it out of your pocket to see Jisung's name lightening the screen and an involuntary smile grows on your lips, completely ignoring what you just thought.

“Hey, did you arrive safely?” You ask, walking up the stairs.

“Yeah”, he says, not sure why exactly he wanted to call you. He already said goodnight to you, did he want to hear your voice again? Why is he being so weird tonight?

“Okay, that's good”, you chuckle, putting the phone on speaker to start undressing.

Jisung sits in his bed, he knows you're probably tired but he doesn't want to hang up.

“What are you doing?” He asks, hearing the shuffle on the other side of the line.

“I'm changing”, you answer nonchalantly, not knowing how red his whole face turns the moment you finish saying that.

He doesn't say anything, making you look to the phone to check if he's still there.

“Want some pictures?” You ask playfully, making him choke on his own breath, coughing violently.

“No, I mean we- we just had our first date- I- I don't want you to think- it's too soon”, he rambles saying all that in half a second, making you laugh genuinely while you wander around your room.

You snap a picture of yourself, sending it to him and he freezes when he sees the notification. When he opens the text though, you're wearing a cute pajama with bees stamped on it, making him laugh too.

“You're cute”, he says and you stop in your tracks.

“It's been years since someone last called me cute”, you pout, sliding under your covers.

Jisung guessed that much, your type of beauty is not on the cute side. You have sharp features, most people could say you're on the sexy side and he would too, before tonight. Now, under the cover of a popular hot girl, he found a girl who's hot and popular but can be cute and funny too.

“Goodnight, y/n”, he says, throwing himself back in the bed.

“Goodnight”, you say, feeling your eyes heavy after hearing his goodbye.

Part 2

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

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walpu · 2 months

Note

Hellohello, peeking from the corner

And dropping by to request Aventurine x reader that likes to give him trinkets and souvenirs from their travels.

And then one day they came with Ashy Paste/Grey Bean Paste version of them and him together all smiley faced and all.

(Fun fact, from a leak: Aventurine's actual name is Kakavasha. Fun fact 2: Kakava is a celebration event of the Romani people)

- 🪽

Aw it's such a cute request 😭 shaking crying asking hoyo to make the second part of the cats event with penacony and belobog characters

I've seen the leaks about his name and the meaning behind it since I'm literal insane about this man. Honestly this is such a pretty name 🥹

Hope you'll enjoy reading this 🌸

giving Aventurine Ruan Mei's cat creations that resemble the two of you

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, fluff, was written with the established relationship in mind but works for pre-relatioship stage as well, no beta see I'm capable of writing something other than angst

First of all, he absolutely adores it when you give him small gifts from your travels.

It's a reminder that you care about him enough to think of him when he's not around.

And while yes, it's obvious that you care, it's nice to know that you care enough to go out of your way to do something for him.

He's a miserable man with no friends okay even the small trinket is enough to make him happy.

Keeps them safe and takes care of each and every gift you give him. Brings some a lot of them with him to casino or/and to his business meetings, claiming that those are his lucky charms.

If it's a peace of jewelry then he would not hesitate to buy several sets of clothes just to have numerous outfits specifically to show off your gift.

If it's some unusual gift then he would not leave you alone until you tell him where did you get it.

Speaking of unusual gifts. He certainly didn't expect that your visit the Herta Space Station will result in you bringing with you two... cat thingies?

At first he simply doesn't get it. It's a bit impractical for you to get a pet since you're traveling so much, no?

But then he notices. Something.

"Darling, call me a delusional romantic but don't they resemble us, hmm?"

When you tell him that those cat thingies are, in fact, creations of Ruan Mei herself, and you just accidentally helped her to creat two cats that resemble you two, he can't help but laugh.

"Ah, sugar, seems like it's not just me who is a helpless romantic. So you've missed me that much that you made are a cat just like me, haha?"

You explain to him that you didn't actually adopt them, Ruan Mei just let you take them with you for some time to examine how socialization with others outside if the Herta Station may affect them.

At first he thinks it's for the best, since, once again, it's impractical to keep them as pets.

Spoiler warning he'll pout and whine when it's time to return them to Ruan Mei.

Loves observing them. Like genuinely adores doing it. Especially if it's the cat that resembles you. Would pester you to take a look every time the cat acts like you.

Would probably feel a bit uncomfortable around the Aven!cat but eventually would warm up to him as well. Mostly because he'll notice how much the reader!cat loves him.

Takes a lot of pictures of the cats together and sends them to you.

"Us <з" "Yeah well they were literally made after us so..." "Uuuussss 😚😚😚"

You know how a lot of cat thingies were talking in high pitched voices? Yeah he would chuckle and pester you to try to talk like that as well.

Lmao but imagine Aven!cat saying something about risks and gambling and benefit etc etc in this high pitched voice. Aven himself would probably chuckle and say something like ”haha little guy knows what it's all about” but would sulk if you'll tease him about it.

Would probably try to buy them from Ruan Mei afterwards lol

#hsr aventurine #hsr #honkai star rail #reader insert #aventurine x reader #aventurine #walp's writing

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breeyn · 6 months

Text

An essay rebutting the “bad writing” claims of s2 ofmd. Spoilers herein.

I’ll preface this with saying you’re obviously allowed to like and dislike whatever you want. I am in no way opposing that. And your reasons are your reasons. Have at. (Also - this is a collection of observations from the past few days, I’m not calling anyone out)

I AM going to rebut the idea that season two was poorly written and lost the spirit of what the show is about.

My favourite movie of all time is Empire Strikes Back. It’s been my favourite movie since I was four. I’m pretty sure it’s a fave of David Jenkins, too. He and Taika have made absolutely no attempt to hide their love of all things 80’s - Prince, the Princess Bride, Kate Bush, Star Wars, etc.

I have ancient video tapes (that I can’t play because who has a vcr) where Lucas is interviewed by Leonard Maltin? Malkin? I dunno. Who cares. Maltin asks him about the Star Wars (original trilogy) story arc. Lucas says “in act I, you introduce all the characters. In act II, you put them in a situation they can’t get out of, and in act III, they get out of it.”

That’s how it works. This is how stories and literary structures work.

Of course you’re not satisfied with season two. You’re not supposed to be.

The arguments I have read on why s2 loses the spirit of s1 is because no one heals. No one learns anything. No one moves forward properly. The person who makes the biggest move towards healing dies. The two main characters end the show doing the exact fucking thing they had promised themselves and each other they wouldn’t do. Our romantic lead still doesn’t understand his value or make any headway on addressing his tragic flaw. It makes no goddamn sense.

My gremlins in weird: it’s not supposed to. In Act 2, EVERYONE LOSES. This is how it goes.

I’ve read a lot of people saying “but this felt like a series finale, not a season finale.” We all know that outside politics play a part here, the strikes make everything precarious. I remember the last writers strike. It destroyed tv for fifteen years. Anyone remember Pushing Daisies? Some of y’all have never had your fave show cancelled with zero resolution for the characters and it shows.

Daddy J did us a kindness. He softened the blow of a tough season. After the brutal cliffhanger of s1, he gave us a little softness and hope. All those things you’re mad aren’t resolved? It’s because THE STORY ISN’T OVER.

No one on earth thinks “stuff all your trauma into a box and ignore it” is good advice. A way to actually live. This show did not have enough screen time to throw out dialogue for no reason. There was foreshadowing in s1 for s2, and there is foreshadowing for s3 in s2. This is a well-crafted story by very smart people who care very much for these characters. There is zero chance Frenchie explained the box in his head for no reason. The reason people have not resolved their trauma and growth is because they haven’t done it *yet*.

And friends - it’s not thinly veiled. They straight up fucking tell us what they’re doing.

Luke Skywalker spends the first two movies fucking up and desperately trying to prove himself and just generally being an idiot. Sound familiar? He ignores the lessons he is supposed to be learning to go off and do what he feels like doing, and loses fucking badly. At the end of Empire, Han is gone, Luke and Leia wave goodbye to the Falcon that has Lando and Chewy - the rest of their crew - aboard. Everyone has lost everything they care about. Vader is undefeated. Yoda is pissed. Nothing is resolved.

You see where I’m going?

If you think I’m stretching this too far, welp, when Ed tells Stede he loves him - the climax of the finale - Stede quotes Han fucking Solo. Like - *it’s right there*. The story structure. The reason everything is unresolved.

So yeah. They wave goodbye to their ship because they have wounds to heal (like Luke’s hand). The people aboard the ship have things to find. Ed and Stede have *not* learned their lesson about whims and how not to be like Anne and Mary. It’s not stupid that they’re doing the same thing, and it’s not pointless that we were shown Anne and Mary. It’s all relevant.

The resolution comes in Act 3. None of these people are done. The story is far, far from over. And just in case the studios want to be dicks about it, David Jenkins was lovely enough to not repeat my enduring heartbreak over Pushing Daisies.

Thank you, @davidjenks 🖤

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd spoilers

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night-raven-tattler · 5 months

Text

Love beyond spoken words - part 1

Summary: Everyone has a way of saying "I love you" without using those three words.

Characters: Ace, Jack, Azul × GN!Reader (separate, romantic)

Other parts of the series: Jamil, Rook, Idia, Sebek

Warnings: food mention (Jack's part)

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You had no idea how Ace was able to maintain an average of 80 for his grades, because it never seemed like he was paying attention in class

Even when he was hunched down over his notebook as if he was writing down notes, he still gave you the impression he was not listening to the lecture

...because he wasn't, really

A folded piece of paper fell on your textbook from the direction of the seat next to you, and if the red heart doodled on it was any hint towards who the sender was, you knew he wouldn't allow you to pay any more attention to the rest of the lecture

You unfolded the piece of paper, and the words written on it brought a small smile to your face

"Hey hot stuff, wanna ditch Deuce and Grim for a lunch date? □yes or □yes"

You decided to tease him a little, so you drew a third square with a "no" written next to it and crossed it, then you folded the piece of paper and tossed it in his direction

And watched how his confident smirk turned into an offended frown in less than a second

He scribbled down something and threw the piece of paper towards you once again, huffing just so he caught your attention enough to look at him and see how hard he was trying to act hurt

"Come on! I even called you 'hot stuff' and everything!"

You couldn't deny that the whole situation made your heart skip a few beats

Your banter was no secret to anyone: all of your friends knew you and Ace loved to push each other's buttons in an endless silly game of cat and mouse

Yet the written notes kind of made the whole situation have an intimate note to it

It was a game just for the two of you, only for your eyes to see, antitipation and excitement building up as both of you slowly added to your secret conversations

"So you call me 'hot stuff' only when you want me to do something?"

You scribbled back and threw the paper at him and watched how his eyes widened as they followed the words on the paper, and a bit of pink dusted his cheeks as well

He hesistated before he wrote down a reply, and he slid the unfolded piece of paper towards you

"I won't admit anything on paper so you have no physical proof you can show off to the others."

You turned towards him and rolled your eyes, showing him exactly what you thought of his reply

But then, he signed to you to turn the piece of paper around

And, as you did, you discovered another message from him

"I wouldn't mind telling you exactly what I think about your looks if you say yes to that lunch date."

You waited a few minutes before writing down on the piece of paper, letting Ace grow a bit anxious and impatient from your lack of response

He watched as you folded the piece of paper and placed it gently on his slightly open palm

And he had to hold himself back from fist bumping the air when he unfolded the piece of paper, revealing how you crossed out your previous "no" answer and marked the other two "yes"s instead

『••✎••』

Jack had a hard time expressing his more sentimental feelings outwardly, and you assured him that you still knew he cared about you

While he was not a poet or a novelist, he still wanted to learn how to express his care for you better

And one day, an idea finally came to him as he watched a few students exchange notes during class...

It all started when he ran to you during P.E. and silently handed you a water bottle before going back to where he came from

On the water bottle, you noticed a small sticky note, slightly wet from the condensation on the cold bottle, and the note had a message written on it

"Remember to drink water. I don't want to see you dehydrated."

You quickly looked for Jack in the small crowd of students, and when you finally spotted him, you noticed how he was trying to look everywhere but at you, while rocking a cute blush on his face and neck

One day, you forgot your notebook in the library, but luckily your knight in fluffy armor retrieved it for you

As you took it from his hands, you noticed the sticky note on it, but before you could ask anything about it, he walked away

"We have a test next Wednesday. If you need help with studying, you can ask me for help."

Jack was sweet enough for you to buy you lunch while you saved two seats for the two of you somewhere in a more secluded corner of the cafeteria

He returned to you with his lunch and your own - a whole grain bread sandwitch and a bag of assorted nuts

And the usual note you've started to get used to

"You look tired. Hope you regain some of your energy with this."

You looked up to him, who was trying to pick between looking at you and looking away from you

You smiled sweetly at him, unwrapping your lunch and starting to eat and chat, and Jack appreciated not bringing up his new habit right away

As much as he denied it, Jack liked to be admired and felt a sense of pride whenever you watched him outrun his track and field clubmates whenever you dropped by

His speed and stamina was something he obtained from his own efforts, but he couldn't help but wonder how much of the motivation he carried with himself daily was multiplied by your influence

Jack discovered he became more and more determined every day: to become stronger, to become a better student, to show you that you always have him to rely on in times of need

You waited until the club took a break to approach Jack; you handed him a towel and he mumbled a thanks before dabbing it on his sweaty face and neck

You also handed him a sports drink as you praised him for his hard work

The bottle was unexpected, but what surprised him more was the sticky note he noticed as he took the bottle from your hands

Even though the note was slightly wet from his sweaty palms and condensation, the message it sent was clear

"I'm very proud of you. Keep going! I believe in you!"

He shily reached his hand towards you and took a hold of your hand as his tail wagged happily, occasionally brushing your legs

『••✎••』

The contract on the desk in the Lounge's VIP room was unlike any Azul has previously seen

The paper was slightly wrinkled, the whole thing was handwritten, and the hearts at the corner of the paper were not part of any contract etiquette he was familiar with

Amongst the sea (pun not intended) of probably misused legalese he didn't quite know himself and a bunch of sentences written in overly pompous formulations vaguely resembling formal speech, a certain phrase caught his attention

"The contractee will be able to exchange 10 minute break times with any desired act of affection from the contractor, as long as the contractee provides proof of fulfilling the required terms."

The contractee being him, and the contractor being you, of course

Azul's face turned pink, and a small smirk appeared on his face

Even when you were away from him, you still dedicated time to make sure he was taking care of himself in the silliest of ways

Your little unprompted attempt at playing his own game was amusing, and his mind raced with all the ways he could take advantage of the terms you presented him with...

That's why you were summoned to him VIP room a day later

"I'm quite interested in your offer. However, I think we should discuss the terms of the contract further before we sign it."

You were both amused and surprised by how professionally Azul was playing along your silly little game, but you remembered he was in Octavinelle for a reason: he liked being entertained

And you had fun while drafting the contract, so you supposed your idea was entertaining enough

Still, you were happy he was so eager to indulge you

Game or no game, you were still determined to sign a contract with favorable enough terms

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I'd like to propose a better way of defining the affection I'd be receiving, and I would also like to suggest offering different rewards for different timestamps."

Azul anticipated your stubbornness to influence you heavily in the negotiation, yet he didn't quite imagine the extent of your determination to have him rest

You did not even allow Azul to reduce the break time anywhere under 10 minutes

The terms you settled on were simple: 10 minutes for physical affection outside of kisses, 20 minutes for kisses anywhere outside the face, and 30 minutes for a kiss anywhere on his face

And when the piece of paper finally had both of your signatures on it, you stamped the paper with a kiss before handing it to Azul, whose face turned red at the gesture

You never expected Azul to take the contract as seriously as he did; you received at least one message a day of him telling you he was taking a break to drink some water and relax his hands

You didn't plan of breaching the contract either: you always did everything your greedy little octopus asked for

You got to spoil your boyfriend while he finally had a convincing enough reason to take a break: it was a win-win in your book

『••✎••』

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ace trappola #ace trapolla x reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader

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atzfilm · 6 months

Text

the leaders. (m)

pairing/wc; woosan/f.reader, 14.7k summary; you wake up in a rusty cell, an oddly familiar helping you out. once you step out into the world, it hits you – this is in fact the wildwest, and somehow, the singers you adore are cowboys? content; wild-west au, violence, guns, murder, smut. overuse of cowboy terms/slang, obsessive behavior note; again, may seem familiar since i have written this before on a different blog with different characters ♡

You gasp, eyes flicking around. Bars surround you, dust underneath your fingertips. You move forward, tugging on the iron that prevents you from leaving. A groan leaves your lips.

“How the hell did I get in here?” You grumble.

“Pretty ladies like ya aren’t supposed to be cursing,” You hear a voice say behind you. You roll your eyes at the words and turn, eyes widening. He wears a long brown trench coat, leaning against the bricks behind him as he looks up, before his gaze meets yours. You could remember those bright eyes which are now partly covered by the shadow from his hat.

Choi San. And here he is, odd sounding and covered in dirt and grim, probably from trying to get out like you were just doing. But there’s something different about him. He doesn’t resemble the man you remember from the shows. More country is the only way you can describe it.

“I think you would curse too if you wake up in a cell,” you murmur. “Why are you here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be at a show or something?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I ain’t no puppet, darling. And my boys will be here soon.” He stops talking, listening to the shouts outside. “Speaking of which…” He moves away from the wall, leaping forward to bring you into his arms. You shove against his chest, ready to cause a scene before the loud sound of a bomb exploding breaks your eardrums.

The walls blow down, San covering you with his body as debris flies. After a few more seconds, he kicks open the jail door with remarkable strength, running out. Before he jumps through the hole, he looks at you. You can see the gears running through his head as he thinks, before dusting off his black hat.

"We don't have all damn day, S!" A voice rings out, bringing you both back to reality. San rolls his eyes.

"Well, my chucklehead pal W over there could use some explaining to do, but he's not the ripest apple in the bunch," San points over to a man too far away for you to spot, his hand holding out for yours. "But I always have room to help a lady. Take my hand here, and I'll be off your back in a jiffy."

You stare at it for a moment before he takes in a big gulp of air, pulling you from the ground. You yelp, tumbling into his arms.

His smile widens as he sees how close you're pressed to his chest, a wicked grin plastered on his cheeks. "Ah, I don't seem to remember the last time a fine lady like yourself fell into my arms." He holds you back, tipping his hat once.

"S, I swear on my mom’s grave—!"

"Ah, I'm coming ya deadbeat!" He looks back at you sympathetically.

"Unfortunately, I don't have time to be more gentlemanly, my partners get a bit under the weather whenever I delay. I gotta hop on outta here before the sheriff comes and see what’s the hustle and bustle, but I do think I'll be seeing the likes of you soon enough." He nods his head once at you, before hopping onto his horse.

"See you in a hog killin' time, pretty lady!"

He coaxes the horse forward, yelling out a loud yip before galloping off. If you squint hard enough, you can see a few more horses running off into the sunset. Your mind runs miles per minute, glancing around. Old stables and buildings surround you, too real and old to be just an amusement park or a movie set. You walk slowly into town, glancing over at a poster that’s nailed into the side of a tree.

Wanted:

$10,000 REWARD!

Mischief group of bandits called “The Leaders”

Bribery, Murder, Thief

Please contact Sheriff Kim Hongjoong if spotted.

Portraits are displayed below, but one sticks out to you. One smile that you’ve seen just moments ago, busting you out of your prison cell that you have no idea how you got into. You blink slowly. Shit. Shit. You pinch your skin, wincing at the pain. So this isn’t just a dream. They are actually in the Wild West, and you’re… well, what are you?

"Hey there!"

Your head whips over to a man that's slowly walking over to you, his hands on his waist as he takes you in. Your eyes widen as you trail over his fingers. Spokes on the back of his boots, slacks dirty from wear and tear, pronounced belt head that still barely manages to keep his pants up. Best tucked into that, a silver sheriff's badge hanging on his shirt pocket. Your eyes flick up to his face, eyes popping out of your head as you realize who's standing in front of you. Hongjoong stands there, eyes narrowed as he takes you in.

"You don't look like you're from 'round here, young lady."

Young lady? There's barely a difference in your ages, not enough for him to speak like that to you. But you clear your throat, trying your best to sound at least a little like them.

"Howdy." Shit. For effort, you'd give yourself an A+, even though the grinding teeth and wink probably drops that down to a failure. His hand slowly wavers over his gun, and you could imagine this now. Being killed by Kim Hongjoong? Not sure if that's your life goal, but it's not a bad reputation to have. "What if I told you that I'm from the future?"

"I'd think you're trying to play games with me, miss," he says simply, slowly taking his hand away from his waist. "Where you from?"

Taking your chances and saying you don't remember is the best bet. If you even explained that he was from a popular band and you have no clue why you're suddenly transported into a wild west, starring them as if this is a horrible, yet fascinating dream. Amnesia path it is.

"I don't remember. I just woke up in a cell, and then this guy kicked me out of jail with dynamite? And he said something about having to leave and—"

"Wait one second!" Hongjoong holds up his hand. "You were involved in that escape that yahoo just did? Do you know each other?"

Yahoo. This man, with his full chest, really said yahoo. Trying to stifle back a laugh, you shake his head.

"I've never seen him in my life, and if I did I don't remember it. But," you gesture to the wanted poster next to you. "I'm assuming he's a notorious criminal."

Hongjoong paused, eyes flicking between you, your outfit, and the poster. He moves his hand away from his belt, crossing his arms as he sighs. "We've been trying to catch him and his group of bandits for months and we've just caught up with him. But yet again, he slips through our fingers." He runs his fingers through his hair, eyes moving to yours. "You couldn't be part of them anyway, too soft and they wouldn't be leaving any strays behind."

Wow. You don't know whether to be offended or pleased that he believes you. At least that gun of his isn't being pointed at you.

His gaze is focused on the destroyed wall behind you. "Why did he help you out, do you know? Because I don't even remember you being kept in there, but it's strange that he'd take the time to rescue a lady. Those men don't have any morals, at least any that I can see. Do you mind coming with me, miss...?"

He waits for your name expectantly.

"y/n. It's y/n. And I wouldn't be able to tell you why he helped me either, usually I'd say it's from the kindness of his heart but since he's a criminal..." you trail off.

He clicks his tongue, nodding once. "Ah, yes. Don't remember hearing your name round these parts neither. But your talk is a little fancier than mine, maybe you're from some town far away. I can bring you to the town doctor, but I'd rather we go on foot. Just in case you got something wrong with your organs or whatnot."

Hongjoong gestures in front of him, and you walk alongside him. "Do you know anything about our little town? Ah, wait," he rubs the back of his neck, a soft blush creeping on his cheeks. "You wouldn't know even if you did, since that memory loss of yours. We here are in a little town of mine called Mist."

...Mist.

"Not many folks pass by and stay, so most of these people you see walking down these streets are their mama and pop's third or fourth generation of family. We are a crop growing town, not a mining one. We aren't the richest or the poorest, just right in the middle. My pap and his pap before him were corn crackers, but I ended up being the sheriff, much to their dismay." He smiles down at you, his teeth shining in the burning sun. You'd never thought you'd be standing this close to him, but you'd rather not dwell on it.

It looks like Mist is ripped straight out of the history books. Streets lined with a saloon, a library, small homes and other knick knack shops. Rust covers most surfaces, horses neighing as you walk by. Your hand itches to pet the glossy fur, feel their hair between your fingers. But you know you'll just scare them off, and being kicked by that brunt force isn't on your agenda.

Hongjoong talks on and on about the history of his home, explaining that San used to be a citizen of it as well. "Strayed. Found that being here wasn't his cup of tea, wanted to make a name for himself. We were good pals back in the day, some would say brothers. But I wanted to walk the straight and narrow, and that was too good for him. Wonder what could've happened if I arrested him that day he robbed the general, what would've become of him." Hongjoong sighs.

"I still wanted to fix our friendship, you see. Even now, I still see the good in him, between his robbing and stealing. I see the Choi San who wanted to be a farmer when he was younger, before he banded the Leaders."

"Do you know the other people who are a part of it?" You ask, and Hongjoong shrugs.

"All we know is that there's many of them. W, a few others, and San. Our people haven't been able to identify anyone but San and a few others, since they are the face of the group. Know him enough that he'll keep the people he cares about hidden. Kept away from the public eye. Which makes me think why you aren't someone special to him," he smiles at you. "Not sure if you'd want to be, miss. Being with him only leads down a treacherous path. Full of murder and blood on your hands."

"I'll keep that in mind," you nod softly. Is this what San would be like in an alternate world? In this alternate reality? Dangerous, full of anger and greed? You just can't imagine the kind man being that cruel. There has to be more behind it, more than Hongjoong even knows.

He clears his throat, standing in front of a door. He knocks once, glancing down at you. "Doc should be in."

The door flings open, showing the town doctor. You should be used to it, seeing the members hanging around. But seeing Choi Jongho in all of his glory, standing in front of you only makes you smile, your mouth struggles to hold back your squeal of delight. He smiles at Hongjoong, before looking at you.

"Ah, what do we have here? Another one of your one nights, Hongjoong? Have you slipped up again?"

Hongjoong hits his arm, his ears burning red. "You know I'm a gentleman, doc. Don't make miss y/n assume things about me!"

Jongho grins, leaning against the door. "Ah, but you’re known as the town heart breaker. So many of our ladies throw themselves at you and you don't budge. Some even thought you swing the other way," he winks. "Not that I would mind. Patient room's always open for you. And for you, miss y/n. What seems to be the problem?"

Whiplash. The only way you can describe it as pure whiplash. This man is a mystery in itself.

"I'm at a loss," Hongjoong mumbles, scratching his head. "She ended up in a cell, next to San and he let her go? Can't recall anything before that."

"Ah, amnesia." Jongho opens his door wider. "Mind taking a seat? Just want to make sure your head is screwed on okay and you don't have any injuries," his eyes flick to your arms. "Although I already see some bruising on those pretty arms a' yours."

You walk into his office, Hongjoong following as they shut the door behind the three of you. So much for doctor-patient confidentiality? Did they not practice it here?

“Usually the sheriff wouldn’t be with a female patient,” Jongho explains, walking over to his tool table. The list of items there are very limited; bandages, an assortment of drugs, syringes, and a few knives here and there. He grabbed what you can only assume is a stethoscope, turning to you. “But this is an extenuating circumstance, is it not?”

He glances over at Hongjoong for a moment, before asking you to breathe in and out as he listens to your heartbeat, looking for any oddities. Hongjoong looks away, his ears burning red. The only thing this sheriff could do is blush, but you don’t mind it. It’s endearing, how he hunts down criminals but turns red when he’s watching you being examined.

“Are you nervous, doll?” Jongho asks, raising a brow at you. “Your heartbeat is rapid, like you just chased a herd of rabbits!”

Hell yes, you’re nervous. Jongho is literally inches away from your face, measuring your heart rate. Who wouldn’t be jumping out of their socks? Oh no. Your thoughts, they’ve turned cowboy and it’s only been a little over an hour.

“A bit,” you confess. “Not really sure where I am or how I got here. Just want to go home, wherever that is.” A small white lie. If you’re really dreaming, hanging out with the men in the wild west isn’t such a bad experience.

“Ah,” he mumbles, resting the scope on his neck. “Does your head hurt? Any throbbing feeling in your limbs?” You shake your head. “Hm, well this is a bit odd, if I think about it.”

“What’s odd?” Hongjoong asks, finally turning back.

“Don’t see any signs of injuries besides her physical cuts and bruises,” He grabs the homemade bandages off the counter. “But this could be something we can’t quite see from our eyes, Joong. Might be some brain disturbance. Can tell she aint lying about the amnesia,” he crouches in front of you, wiping your arm with the antibiotic, lightly wrapping the gauze around your arm. “Has those honest eyes. Bright,” Jongho smiles at you. “Reminds me a bit of Hwa-”

“Ya know not to mention him,” Hongjoong utters, Jongho sighing softly.

“Times are different, you know. Maybe he’ll come back to Mist, see the brighter sides of things…”

“He won’t. San manipulated him. His parents are still in a rut over it.” Hongjoong rubs his neck.

Seonghwa. So he’s part of San’s rebel squad as well. You’d like to ask more about it, but prying into their lives would only make you look suspicious, and you’d rather stay under the radar. Even though Jongho believes you, not everyone will. You’d end up in one of their hospitals rather than home. Somewhere you’d at least want to see one last time.

“But we should bring y/n to the motel. Yeosang owes me a favor, anyway. At least until she recalls her home.” Hongjoong glances at you. “A ways away, it would be better to take Angel.”

“Angel?” You ask, and Hongjoong’s eyes light up.

“My lady. You’d like her, she’s the sweetest gal in this town.”

Jongho rolls his eyes. “Stubborn. Can’t get her to listen to a word, gets all ruffled up. But she might like you, she prefers women.” Jongho clears his throat, stretching his back. “Time for a nap, don’t you say? Keep mind of your head condition, and I’ll give you some bandages. Nothing really happens ‘round here, so we have a large supply.” He passes you a roll. “Fixing to see you ‘round here more often, yea? Maybe Joong will have a more special lady.”

Hongjoong scoffs, his hair growing as red as a tomato. You’d definitely not get used to it. “Ah, shut your mouth, Jongho. Let’s go, ‘fore he makes up some more nonsense.” Hongjoong opens the door, gesturing for you to go ahead.

You hop off the stool, “Thank you, Jongho. Hopefully, I see you without bandaids.”

His eyes sparkle. “Please do. It gets lonely ‘round here without some company. Leave Joong behind, I’ll show ya a good time.” He winks, watching as you go.

Hongjoong stands in front of a horse, patting her coat softly, feeding her a carrot. “Hey there, Angel. How’s it goin’, beautiful lady?” He whispers, his smile the widest you’ve seen it. “This here’s y/n, a visitor that’ll ride me with you, so don’t be too mean. Can’t have her runnin’ to the Leaders.”

Hongjoong looks at you, a teasing glint in his eyes. You roll your eyes. Tentatively, you run your fingers along her coat. She whines, moving closer to your touch. Hongjoong nods appreciatively. “She likes you, so that means you're a good one.”

“You’re beautiful, Angel,” You said, and she neighs, pressing her face into your cheek. “How did a lady like you end up with a scruffy sheriff like him?”

A groan falls from Hongjoong lips. “Hey, I grew up with her, mind you! Took care of each other, feeding each other. This’ my best friend, right here.” Hongjoong presses his lips to her coat, before tugging on her saddle, leaping up onto her back with ease. He holds out his hand for you, and you stare at the height.

No fucking way.

“Never hopped on a horse before?” he teases, but you nod. Shock crosses his face. “Wait, you ain’t kidding?”

“I’ve never been this close to a horse.”

He blinks quickly. “Ah, you must be from the city, then. Everyone for miles has been on a horse since a babe. Give me your hand, miss. Won’t be too hard to help you hop on her. You’ll be sitting in front of me, so make sure you don’t fall off the saddle.”

“… Can’t we just walk?”

Hongjoong’s eyes almost boggle out of his head. “What? Did I hear that correctly? It’s a long walk, miss. Too far. And you just been in a traumatic accident, can’t have you falling to the dirt from lack of breathing. Easy once you get the hang of it. Trust me, you'll be clean and clear.”

You grab his hand as he instructs you to put your foot into the stirrup, pulling you up with his full strength. You’re surprised at how strong he is, the lack of effort shown on his face as you sit in the saddle with him. You're partly sitting on his lap, and you’re thankful this time that you don’t have the chance to see his face.

“Keep your self pressed against me, alright? And hold on to that horn- yes, that. We’ll be going slower for you but once you get used to Angel, we’ll gallup the rest a’ ways.”

Hongjoong flicks the straps, and Angel walks forward. You yelp, your hands clawing into his thighs. His breathy laughs tickle your ears. “Ah, you’re definitely gotta be from one of those fancy places. It’s cute.”

“Don’t patronize me, Mr. Sheriff,” You grumble, only causing him to laugh louder.

“And the fancy words too. You'll be fine, I’m here for you, and we won’t be burning the breeze so you needn’t worry ‘bout that.”

You hold on tightly the rest of the way there, Angel slowly going into a steady gallop. Hongjoong chats your ear off about everything and anything, and you’re grateful for his presence. The stardom away, he’s just like anyone else. At least, in the cowboy sense. He’s funny and charming, and you’re a bit curious as to why he hasn’t snagged himself a partner in life yet. From what Jongho says, he’s popular. Popular enough to reject everyone that’s ever appeared.

“Are your standards high?” You ask after a joke of his.

You can’t see his face, but you can only imagine his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Pardon, miss?”

“Doctor Jongho was talking about how you reject everyone that’s interested in you, and I was just wondering why, as all. I mean, you seem like a good guy from what I can see, I just don’t understand why you haven’t picked someone special for you. Even Jongho was interested.”

Hongjoong quiet as Angel walks on the grassy path. You quickly think you’ve overstepped, opening your mouth to apologize.

“I didn’t mean to- pry.

“No need to say any sorries, miss.” You hear Hongjoong rub the slight scruff on his face, thinking. “All of their advances felt disingenuous,” he confesses. “They wanted to be involved with me because of my position, not my personality. As you can see, I don’t lack in that department.”

You laugh, not seeing the smile that graces his lips.

“Haven’t gotten along with any people except for long time pals a’ mine. Kinda hard to meet new folks when you're in a town like ours, you see. Same folks and same faces day to day. Gets a bit dry.”

“So I assume that you’re happy that I’m here,” You joke.

You don’t see the panic crossing his face, the gulp as he looks away from your head for a moment. “I am, miss y/n. You bring bit a’ spring to my step… Ah, we’re here!” He reigns in Angel, resting her at the stall slightly away from the building. It’s only two floors high, but it’s long, probably home to a dozen or so rooms. Hongjoong hops off of Angel, holding out his arms as he helps you down.

You trip a bit falling off, landing in his arms. He steadies you easily, the usual pink on his face. “Should be more careful, miss. Some men aren’t as kind as myself.”

“Oh, you kind?” You hear a laugh, and turn to the new voice. Blond hair tucked into a hat, he leans against a pole that holds up the building, looking between the both of you. “Not used to seeing the Sheriff entertaining traveling folks. Assuming that you’re y/n?” His eyes flick to you, and you nod. “Ah, the woman spotted with one of those Leader men. Surprised you didn’t arrest her immediately, Sherriff. Loose ends don’t end up tied ‘round here as of late.”

“Ah, Yeosang, be nice for once, will you? She’s not involved with ‘em. Can’t even think back to before today. One of those fancy folk, you know? Probably came from the city.”

Yeosang’s eyes trail over your figure, narrowing his eyes as he takes in your clothing. You’re wearing a t-shirt and jeans, completely different from the corsets that you’ve seen the women wear around there. You wished that Hongjoong offered something so you didn’t stick out like a sore thumb, but to no avail. And you’re a guest to this town, so asking for something when you’re already unwelcomed would be pushing the little luck that you have.

“Didn’t think to give her a new pair of those? She’s practically in the nude in that wear.” He leans up from his spot, walking over to the both of you. His walk is lazy, stare matching. He holds up a bit of hay to Angel, her eating it out of his hands as he eyes Hongjoong. “No wonder you wanted to ride Angel over here. Haven’t felt another in a bit, hm?”

“You and Doctor Jongho seem to like to tease,” You say, earning a raised brow from him.

“Joong here grew up with us. Feed the same bread and wore the same trousers. Families closer than two peas in a pod. Joking is in our blood. Would ya like a new pair of clothes? Get you in something that won’t make the men ‘round here ogle you , their minds aren’t that pure as you can see.” He gestures to Hongjoong standing just feet away from you. “Didn’t even bother offering, his dirty mind.”

“Hey-!”

“I would like that, thank you. But, could I wear some trousers instead? Those skirts are too tight fitting and I can’t move in them.”

Yeosang’s grin slowly spreads across his face as he looks at you. “Thinking that I’ll like you more than the other misses he brings ‘round. Anything you need, miss y/n. Speaking of needs, Hongjoong. Why’d you bring her in these parts? It’s not the calmest area in our town. Could get hurt.”

Hongjoong glances around, seeing obvious sketchy people walking around. Some spot him and turn in the opposite direction. “Need a favor. She needs some place to stay-”

“So you thought it would’ve been an excellent idea to waltz over here and give her to me. Have enough of those skum walking through my doors, don’t need more eyes to cover an innocent virgin.”

You scoff at him, and he looks at you sympathetically. “In their eyes, you are.”

“Please, having her at my home won’t be proper, you know how the townspeople talk. City slicker in my home will only lead to chit-chatting.”

Yeosang places his hat back on top of his head, thinking. “How long?”

“I can’t quite tell ya that. Don’t know when her memory is going to come waltzing back in and saying howdy. Give her a few weeks, give or take.”

Yeosang grumbles, but nods. “Favors gone now, sheriff,” his eyes move over to you. “Let’s get you set up in some proper cow-poke slacks. Wouldn’t mind seeing you in some fancy clothing, though,” His grin widens as he looks at you.

That was flirting. That was definitely flirting. Your face warms as he tips his hat to Hongjoong, gesturing for you to walk ahead. You turn back to Hongjoong, and he nods once, lifting his hat up slightly.

“I’ll be in contact with you, keep your ears clean and your eyes open. Those bandits could be anywhere, and Yeosang’s place is prime time for their kind. Won’t be surprised if they slip ‘round here, causing a ruckus.”

“Not in my place,” Yeosang grumbles.

“Thanks, Sheriff Hongjoong. For bringing me here, and trying to keep me safe.”

Hongjoong flushes, “Ah, no need to thank me, miss. It’s only my job, even if you’re a city slicker.” He teases. He gets back on Angel, whistling at you once before disappearing down the dirt path.

Yeosang clears his throat next to you. “I’ll show you to the back. Can't quite find your size, but pick off these racks here and sure enough find something."

Yeosang holds the door open for you, gesturing to the racks in front of you. "Don't quite trust you by the way, miss y/n. Popping up 'round here out of the blue and yip yapping about some amnesia. Jongho a doc, but he ain't the brightest tool in the shed."

He eyes you. “You don’t even talk like a city-slicker or country folk. Can’t quite pin you down yet. Just don’t bring no trouble ‘round here, and we’d be peachy. Got that?”

“I do,” You say, Yeosang completely reading you. He’s even analytical in the wild west, but you shouldn’t have expected anything less. You’re surprised Hongjoong or Jongho didn’t peep a word about your accent. Maybe they think you’re from some far off town, a place where no one speaks in their slang. “I won’t cause a ruckus, either. Thank you for your hospitality.” You try speaking like him, a grin on your face.

He only rolls his eyes in response. “Nice try. I’m leaving your key hanging on your door, just outside. Grab it whenever you’re ready and your room will be prepared. Some gal will be bringing you more clothing for your stay.”

He gives you a wave as you thank him, closing the door behind him. You stare at the racks in front of you, grabbing whatever looks close enough to your size to wear. You tuck your feet into the boots and stare at the hats. It tempts you, your mouth watering, thinking about living out your cowboy dreams. But you sigh, giving them one last, longing gaze before leaving.

You’re already an eyesore, everyone looking at you wherever you go. Wearing a hat would only cause more people to ask questions, many you can’t answer. Where did you come from? Why do you speak like that? Wait, you don’t know what “insert term” is? You shower everyday? Endless questions that’ll only leave you in a stuttering mess, palms sweaty. You should probably grab a dress and corset and shove yourself in one, but who do they think you are? Walking around uncomfortable from day to day?

You grab the key that’s hanging outside your door, walking slowly down the hallway. Thankfully your room isn’t too far. You insert the key and unlock it, glancing inside. How the lady or man came into your room quick enough and dropped off clothing is beyond you, but you thank them silently, sitting on the edge of the mattress. The room couldn’t be more than ten by ten, a small window with the thinnest panel you’ve ever seen. You run your fingers along the quilt, humming softly.

What do you do now?

You remember seeing a bar just off the hotel, and nod. Sure, this couldn’t be scary. Just a normal bar in the Wild West. Probably some gunfights and glasses thrown everywhere, but that’s normal enough, you suppose. Maybe you’ll come out with an honorary bloody nose. You walk out of your room, locking the door behind you.

You turn, bumping into a body just outside your door. The impact is rather hard, making you stumble on the rug that’s on the floor. Before you can fall back, a hand grabs you, holding you steady. Your eyes look up, ready to thank the mysterious stranger. Dark eyes stare down at you, thick brows just above them, His hair is long, brushing against the nape of his neck. You never thought during this time there were piercings, but you can see them tracing up his ear, small gold studs. He pulls you up, eyes never leaving yours. You can recognize that man from anywhere, his face so distinct.

“Are you alright, sweet pea?” Wooyoung asks, his deep voice resonating in the quiet hallway. You nod, as he lets you go. He wears black from head to toe, boots shining with a line of silver around the heels. His hat rests on a string, hanging on his neck. He tilts his head, wavy hairs falling to his forehead. “Don’t remember seeing a gal as beautiful as you ‘round.”

You don’t know how to respond, and you can tell by his face that he knows the effect he has on you. He chuckles slowly, ring covered fingers running through his hair. “Fine night, isn’t it? Too dangerous out there for a sweet pea like you to be alone. Where you going?”

You purse your lips. “It’s dangerous out there, like you said. I can’t tell strangers where I’m going.”

He laughs. “Ah, you’re a slick one. I like that.” His eyebrows flick up slightly.

Fuck. The charisma from this man is dripping from his every word, every flick of his eyes. But you keep yourself grounded enough to roll your eyes, giving him your back. You’re not here to flirt.

…

Well, you aren’t sure why you’re here.

“Never had a lady give me her backside,” Wooyoung walks next to you, arms resting on his back. “Haven’t told you my government yet, and you’re already running. Let me at least say a bit more before you make me into a bad egg. Didn’t see a ring, so assumed you were an Angelica.”

“Angelica?”

His eyebrows furrow for a moment. “Ah, must be small-town lingo. Not tied down, I presume. No lover.”

“Why does that even matter?” You know. You can feel the heavy flirting between his words, the smirk on his lips. And you’re tempted, but something is different about him. There’s an aura around Wooyoung, more than the flirting. Mysterious, intimidating. Something you can’t quite point out. You reach to open the door, but he opens it for you, gesturing for you to exit. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you. You make any cowboy balmy.”

He walks along with you to the bar, no longer trying to start a conversation with you. You embrace the silence, but his mere presence is intimidating in itself, his looming finger just behind you. As you make it to the outside of it, he opens the door for you once more, his smile hidden on his face.

“Came here to bend an elbow as well. A bit glad I didn’t go to the bed-house, found better sights here. See you ‘round, miss…” He waits for you to say your name, but you don’t give him the pleasure. “Hard to get, I see. Admire that.”

You walk in, him just slightly behind you. The bell rings, eyes of the patrons looking over to see who entered. Their loud talks slowly dissipate, an audible hush falling amongst the crowd. You notice that they’re looking behind you, so you step to the side, letting Wooyoung walk in front. He looks back at you, an evil glint in his eyes.

“Name’s Wooyoung. But you’d’ve learned soon enough,” he takes your hand, lightly pressing his lips against the back, intense gaze on yours as he flicks his eyes to your lips, letting go. He seems to ignore the stares as he walks to the corner of the bar, a familiar silhouette there as well. But you can only see their back from where you’re standing.

You walk to the bar, sitting on an empty stool. Some of the men next to you eye you but don’t utter a word, probably assuming that you’re with Wooyoung. You don’t mind it at all, trying to figure out how to get back to your time is what you’d rather do. Although, hanging out with them isn’t half bad.

“Joong’s gal?”

Your eyes look up into softer ones, his contagious smile and plush cheeks easily recognizable. He holds a glass in his hand, cleaning it slowly. He leans against the counter. “Could tell by your trousers. No lady ‘round here would dare.”

You snort. “And what does that mean? I’m not a lady?”

Yunho looks at you in shock, his lips in the shape of an o. “Absolutely positively not, sweetheart. You’re different, bettermost from the others, makes you more fascinating, you see. Make any get one hellofa brick in his hat. Makes you a target as well, but you’re safe enough.”

“How so?”

He grins. “You’re with me. Talk more after I get these men outta da way.” He tips his head, walking over and sliding people their beer.

The saloon is bigger than you expected, probably about fifty or so people hanging out and about. There’s few women around but Yunho’s right; all of them are dressed to impress, makeup perfect on their faces. You spot Wooyoung, and finally, get the chance to see who he’s with.

San slides laid back in his chair, legs manspread as his eyes lazily trail along the crowd. You can't move, knowing that if you even tried his eyes would immediately land on you. So you try your best to keep attention away from yourself, sitting on the edge of the barstool as Yunho makes a drink for you.

The hairs on the back of your neck raise, knowing the heavy gaze that now rests on you. You thank him for the drink, using it as an excuse to down it quickly, eyes flicking over to where San is. His gaze is focused on you, a sly smirk slowly forming on his lips. He drags his tongue along them, eyebrow raised slightly, as if he's challenging you.

"Involved with a fella like him?" Yunho interrupts, forcing your eyes away. "Could only lead to bad endings, sweetheart. Only keep you on your toes long enough to say hello. Throw you right into the dust."

"Do you know him?" You ask, and Yunho laughs.

"Know him? We part of the Leaders together." He watches as the shock slowly crosses your face, his smirk rising. "Too bad he don't like to share."

"Share what?"

Yunho only winks.

The Leaders. San, Wooyoung, and Yunho. All of them are part of the bandit group. You’re a bit shocked that Yunho is, why would he be a bartender? But now you’ve figured out why Wooyoung feels so off. He’s a criminal, his dark gaze filled with more than just lust. He’s seen things you can’t imagine, things you’d rather not think about. San probably has blood on his hands as well as Yunho, his eyes taking you in as you think deeply.

“Never thought I’d see the likes of you again, darling.” His voice is next to you now, one you’ve just heard earlier today. “Can’t say I’m disappointed. W was just chatting about you, telling me about this daisy damsel, a city-slicker. Got me curious, I reckon, but when I saw you eyeing me, dead giveaway.”

“Was it a coincidence,” you mumble, not daring to meet his gaze. He doesn’t smell like alcohol at all, not even slightly. You’re a bit surprised, but don’t comment on it. “I didn’t expect to see you again either.”

“Ah, it’s not a bad thing,” San nudges the man next to you. The man grunts, ready to start something. But once his eyes scan San, a frightened look crosses his eyes as he stumbles from his stool, moving far away from the two of you. Hongjoong talked about how notorious and dangerous they are, but it didn’t sink until you entered the bar. They’ve made a name for themselves here, and not in a good way.

He rests on the stool, half sitting. “Never told me why you were in the calaboose. Don’t really look like the doozies that creep in there. Much calmer, strange.” He sees the look on your face, and chuckles. “In a positive way, darling.”

His eyes grace over your figure, a teasing glint in his eyes. He slowly brings the glass to his lips, eyes unblinking as he watches you through the blurry glass. His lips wrap around the lining of the glass cup, before placing it down to the counter. "You’re quite a mysterious one, miss y/n."

Your blood runs cold. You haven't uttered your name around him, or Wooyoung. How did he even know it? He sees the puzzlement in your eyes, gaze moving away from you to Yunho, a few feet away serving someone else.

"Town's small and townspeople chat. Hard not to figure out who you were. Cant get the details on your background, no matter how much pig digging. Not even your sheriff knows, and seems like you don't know either. Don't believe that in the slightest." He waves over another bartender, their quick pouring of the drink showing you in the simplest ways San's power in this town.

The shaking hands of the man as he pours, the laser sharp gaze of San as he watches, as if he'll jump over the counter if the man makes the slightest mistake. Wooyoung and he command attention and obedience with their presence. Completely different from the soft energy around Yunho, flirting smiles as he continues to intoxicate the saloon customers.

"We own this here saloon, love. The Leaders. Imagine my shock in seeing you stumble through those doors, W just behind ya. I saw the looks he was givin' you, that poor bastard..."

"Ah, talking about me while I'm not here to defend, sir? No wonder my ear was itching."

You're so absorbed in San's every word, ignoring the slow walk of Wooyoung behind you. He doesn't even bother asking the man in the opposite seat to move, the person leaving on their own accord. Unlike San, he molds his body into the stool, letting out a soft sigh before moving his eyes to you. A small grin teases on his lips, an eyebrow slightly raised.

"Care to share?"

"Not interested. In either of you." You clench your ice tea, alcohol free. You don't see the looks they exchange over your head, wordless communication.

"Heard you talking to the sheriff," Wooyoung says.

"Wondering if you told any tidbits about our encounter. Isn't wise if you did," San adds. "Could be life risking, if you ask me."

You can feel the intense stares they give you without even glancing their way. Your eyes move to Yunho, who watches you from the other side of the bar. It's too loud for him to hear what you're saying to them, but you can tell that he knows. The blank expression he gives you is enough to know. Are they going to kill you? There isn't even any information to give Hongjoong, even if you wanted to.

"What could I say to him? He knows who you are, what you look like. And you barely exchanged three sentences with me before riding off into the sunset," you sip slowly on your drink. "Is that why you came over here? To bother me?"

San chuckles dryly. "You’re a smart one, hm? Think we can put you in your place?" He moves closer to your ear, a breath away from his lips touching your skin. "Can tell you’re flustered, your fingers are all shaky. Scared?"

Wooyoung leans on the counter, head resting on his hand. You notice his arm covered with tattoos and bracelets. His gaze is heavy, eyelids hushed as he licks his lips, flicking between yours and your eyes. "Pretty gal like you may be thinking 'bout something different though. Could tell right when we met, the look in those beautiful eyes of yours. Full a' wonder, and... ah." He reaches out, inches away from your hand, before pulling back.

"The things I want to do."

From the thumping in your ears to the breath of San tickling them, to the seductive look Wooyoung is giving you, it's overwhelming. You leap from your stool, ignoring the chuckles falling from their lips.

"Leaving so soon? Haven't even heard our proposal to you," San pouts. "It's worth a wild."

You hesitate in your steps, glancing back at the two of them. "And what is the proposition?"

Wooyoung leans back on the counter, legs outstretched in front of him. "Distract that sheriff. Tell him falsehoods, get his nose away from us. In exchange..." His heavy gaze moves up your body, before flicking to your eyes. "Join us."

...

....

"...join you? Why in the living hell would I ever join you?"

A dark look passes through both of them. San jaw clenches, fingers straining against the glass in his hands before he takes a breath, closing his eyes and opening again. He looks at you calmly once more.

"We need a lady in our ranks. Some things a man just can't do. You’re already a criminal, can't judge us."

You blink rapidly. "How am I...?"

Your mind trails off to your first meeting with him, in prison. He's assuming that you're as bad as them, that you'd break the law. But the worst thing you've ever done is kick a ball into someone's face, and you cried after doing that. Breaking the law? You could barely break a pencil, let alone the law.

"No." You say briskly. "I've changed, I think. Started anew. My past is behind me."

Wooyoung snorts at that. "Oh, is it now? Every soul in here sees you talking to us. Probably got to the sheriff already. He must be suspecting by now that you’re in cahoots with the Leaders."

They're trying to bait you. You've watched enough movies to know the moves. The evil glint behind the friendliness. The way Wooyoung's fingers rest on his hip, inches away from his pistol. It's subtle, but you know if you deny, they'd probably retaliate somehow. But Hell, you’ve dealt with men like this before.

"You're underestimating him. See y'all around." You tip your invisible hat, earning a chuckle from Yunho who watches. You turn your back to them, push the double doors open and leave.

Wooyoung goes to stand, but San grabs his forearm, stopping him in his tracks. He looks at him in confusion. "We won't stop her?"

"No. Sooner or later, she'll come crawling to us."

"Not too sure 'bout that," Yunho says, walking to them. "Gal seems independent. Can't see her listenin to you."

San quirks his brow. "She'll learn who I am soon 'nough."

You close your eyes, taking deep breaths just outside the bar. Your eyes flick to the sound of heavy panting, seeing a black stallion in the darkness. Its eyes glow faintly, focusing on you for a moment before huffing again. You try to calm your heart rate as you take in its calming presence, a soft neigh echoing in the night.

Your head is filled with several emotions; fear, confusion, lust. You can barely keep up with the heavy waves. The beating slowly drops into a more steady thumping, your eyes flutter as you take another breath, walking through the grass to meet it. It stomps its feet, warning you with gestures. You hold your hands up in surrender, showing it that it shouldn’t be afraid. It slowly stops moving, letting you stand next to it silently.

You don’t dare run your fingers on its coat, too afraid that it startles easily. You stare off into the night, eyes on the sky. The stars are the brightest you’ve ever seen; they glow their own lights in the small town. You glance around, seeing the flickers of torches and stakes, loud voices of people entertaining themselves. The horse neighs softly as you pout, running your fingers through your hair.

“I don’t belong here,” You say softly, glancing at the horse. “I have no idea what to do, how to get back to my home. But I have to admit, it’s nice being around here. The fresh air is completely different. Feels more natural out here.” You hear a crash behind you, but don’t even give the sound the light of day, continuing to hum softly.

“It’s a bit chilly out here too, and all I have is this shirt,” You pull at the material, frowning. “It’s barely thick enough to cover my boobs from showing through.”

“Boobs?”

You jump at the sound, turning to see a man, hair wild as the wind blows through it. He wears a dark blue outfit, cowboy boots shining in the darkness, probably from the flickering of the candle in his hand. He cocks his head, eyes watching you curiously.

“Is that the fancy way of saying bosoms?” You can hear the innocence in his voice, although the scars across his face tell a different story. “Strange city slickers.” He grins, walking to you. You’re not sure how he is compared to the rest of the bandits you’ve encountered, but you don’t take any chances.

“What do you want?”

Confusion is drawn in his expression, before he mumbles something to himself softly. “Ah… you’re with my horse. Seems a bit suspicious, don’t you think?” He points to the horse next to you, patting it softly. “Surprised he didn’t try to kick you. A feisty one, he is. Probably thinking about doing something to you.” He grins again, winking at you.

You move away from the horse and Seonghwa takes a step to it, pressing his lips against it. It nudges against him softly, and he giggles. You blink rapidly. Him. He is in a bandit group, an infamous group. You don’t even feel the dangerous aura around him, not like the other three. He’s much softer, calmer. He looks at you, still petting his horse lightly.

“Heard ‘bout you from the others. Potentially joining’ our ranks,” he looks you up and down in thought. “Don’t know why they’v’d even consider, don’t look impressive to me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ah, pardon my behavior. It's true, though. You’re light on the eyes, but that’s all I see. Don’t look like you’ve even held a pistol, and from the looks of it, probably run your bazoo and snitch,” he wrinkles his nose. “I ain’t as trusting as the others. For good reason, too.”

He lets go of the stallion, leaning next to him as he watches you. “San trusts you, though. We aren’t what you think, what the chit chatting be saying about us. Hiding among the willows, filled with bug juice. It’s nothing of the sort.”

“Then why don’t you defend yourselves? Everyone is convinced you’re the worst criminals there are, that you’d shoot before anything else.”

There, you see it. The flicker of fury in his irises, the locking of his jaw, the dark glow to his eyes. But as quick as you see it, it fades away. He smiles again, and this time it doesn’t seem as genuine.

“Some of those rumors are true. Don’t be so beef-headed, miss y/n,” he tilts his head as he watches you. “Standing in front of this bucket of blood. Right where you stand, Yunho murdered a man.” Seonghwa flicks his gaze to the grass, pursing his lips. “Speaking of that, being alone is risky. This town ain’t as safe as the sheriff makes you think. Better to get to your home, something’s going down in a few clicks or so.”

Another shout comes from the bar, and Seonghwa sighs. “Go ta Yeosang’s place. Lock your doors, and don’t go by those windows.”

He kisses his horse’s face once more before walking around you, his arm brushing lightly against yours. He glances at the spot, eyes focused on yours. His expression is unreadable, and he nods once before, pulling his gun from the holster, kicking open the bar doors. You take that as your cue, half running, half jogging to the hotel. You ignore the whistles and shouts from the people standing not too far away from the front, running to your door and shutting it behind you.

The gun shots ring around you as you cover your ears, shaking as each one shoots through the air. A deadly reminder that you don’t belong here, that you should be home in modern society. That no matter how cool it is to be in the wild west, it isn’t cool to think about one of those gunshots ending up inside of you.

You need to get home.

“Won’t be that bad of an idea,” he says, brushing off her coat slowly. You lean against the tall pole next to his stall. He eyes you for a moment, scanning your skeptical expression before sighing. “We need to arrest them, y/n. Take them in for their crimes.”

“And why do you need me? I was in that jail for a reason, one that I don’t know. You’re being so harsh on them, and easy on me.” You flick off a leaf that falls, waiting for his response. You might be digging yourself into a hole, but it’s the only thing that you could think would stop him from this crazy idea of his. There’s no way you’d try to infiltrate their ranks, the risk is too high. These men aren’t like the ones back home.

“You’re not a threat. Don’t sense the bad mojo on you, can tell by looking into your eyes. You'll be safe; no harm will come to you. Bet a cat’s foot on it.” He snaps his fingers, winking at you.

You narrow your eyes. “Bet your life.”

Hongjoong widens his eyes as he looks at you. “I… no, miss y/n, that’s-”

“Yea yea, superstition and all.”

“You don’t believe in that?” He asks, watching as you shake your head. “Gotta be careful, miss. You’re a good one, that I know.

“Do you?”

“Mama ain’t raise no fool,” He says simply, patting Angel. “Be careful, you hear? Those men aren’t as kind as they may show you. Killed too many to consider them friendlies. Those men ain’t nothing but trouble. Don’t want to see you hurt. But if you don’t accept their invitation under the eyes of me, they might insist in ways I cannot help you with.”

You purse your lips. They’re walking freely through the town, through the darker sides that you don’t see right here. It’s a bit strange; shouldn’t they be put in jail? You’re sure that Hongjoong knows that’s their bar, and yet he hasn’t stormed it and arrested them. Angels neighs softly, stomping her feet. Hongjoong mumbles something against her fur, brushing hairs away from her eyes.

“Why don’t you just arrest them? You know where they’re at, right? Or is there some law that doesn’t allow you to?”

“Ah,” Hongjoong nods slowly. “Forgot about that place. Can’t arrest them if that town doesn’t want me to. You see, they’re infamous bandits in Mist, but not there. I dropped you off just outside of Mist, a smaller town called Halazi. Because the laws are different there, those slickers didn’t cause any ruckus there, so they ain’t going to be arrested. Deputy doesn’t allow me to’ even arrest any bodies there, especially those men. Brings in money to their town. Ain’t going to give that up anytime soon.” Hongjoong’s eyes flick to you.

“Assume you've seen them? Have they spotted ya?” You don’t respond, and he sighs. “Ah, you have then. Just… don’t get too close then. Please. And if you do, at least let me know before something happens. So I can keep an eye on you.”

You nod. “Of course, I won’t.”

“Joong’s paranoid. You’ll be fine. These boys don’t mess with no innocents, only the likes of them,” Jongho says, cleaning off a tray with mysterious blood on it. “Can’t believe he didn’t chain you to a fence, in all honesty. That Sheriff is a good one, but scared of a fly.” He clicks his tongue, washing his hands before looking at your wound again. “Ah, it’s healing well, ain’t it? Your skin is going to be pretty again, miss y/n, don’t you worry ‘bout that.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” You say, smiling. “But I think he has reasons to worry. I didn’t exactly tell him the complete truth.”

Jongho raises his eyebrows. “Hm?”

You rub your arm, looking at the healing cut as you speak. “I met the guys. All of them; San, Wooyoung, Yunho, and Seonghwa. They wanted me to join their ranks, something about me being alluring. I refused, but then they responded that I won’t be refusing for much longer? I have no idea what that means, but in my honest opinion-”

“Sounds like a threat,” Jongho whispers slowly, and you nod. “Joong ain’t tell you ‘bout their crimes, did he? Nothing except the little flyers he has hanging round town?” You shake your head.

“San can tell his own story; it’s a big one, one that’ll take too long,” he grins. “The others joined after he decided to leave. Joong and them, friends for a long time. Since they were little ones, until he left. Yunho used to be my assistant, until he went away. Wooyoung is a mystery; lived here his whole life but decided to leave when Yunho did. Seonghwa was Joong’s partner, unofficially. Glued to his side like a worm in the gravel on a hot day. When they had a falling out, he was distraught, choosing between his two friends. Joong ain’t never going to forget when Seonghwa left him.”

“Their crimes are not as serious as it seems. Yes, they burglarized and murdered, but thestories behind each of them are cause for protest. They ain’t ever raised their pistols to an innocent, that’s why Joong ain’t that worried about you in that regard. Only murderers and people who gone against them but for good reasons, in my humble opinion,” Jongho begins cleaning off your cut.

“Then why does Hongjoong want them arrested? If they didn’t actually do anything horrible?”

Jongho thinks for a moment. “In a way, it’s ‘cause he’s heartbroken. But also, just because a person is bad don’t mean you go ‘round killing. There’s due process; jail, and from there punishment.”

He grins as he looks at you. “Like Wooyoung, for a teeny example. He killed many, but all of their crimes were dark, too explicit to even tell ya. Seonghwa hasn’t killed, that I know of but most of the others have. Yunho usually sits in the bars at night, though. More of an informant if anything.”

“It’s a good thing I didn’t tell Hongjoong then,” you mumble to yourself, Jongho listening along. “He has a grudge and rightfully so, but some things should just be kept to myself. I think he’d take me out of Yeosang’s hotel immediately if he found out,” You tease, causing Jongho to chuckle.

“He would've, My lips are sealed, swallowing the key. But I’m still keeping an eye on you, don’t you forget that. Keep your ears cleared and your eyes open, miss y/n. Them guys ain’t that bad, but there’s trouble always surrounding them. Don’t join them, not even under fallacies. Those boys can sniff a rat amongst the willows.”

He taps your arm as he finishes. “Come back again, no one ever comes to see little ‘ol me.” He leans against the counter, looking at you. It looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t do anything but give you that signature grin. “Tell them, especially Yunho, I said howdy if you ever come ‘cross again. Big part of me thinks you will.”

He winks.

You’re not sure how you ended up here. In the middle of a field, flowers and other plants are seen for miles. Taking a small hike, you only expected more dirt and pesky bugs. You’re not sure if any diseases from the mosquitoes are actually cured by now, but it frightens you whenever one of them lands on you. You hum to yourself softly, letting the soft breeze swirl around you. It’s been a few weeks in between Mist and Halazi. You’ve seen San, Wooyoung, and the others more often than you’d like, their words enticing you more and more. But you’ve resisted for the most part, avoiding them whenever you turn the corner.

San and Wooyoung have been particularly insistent. You already moved out of Yeosang’s hotel, and into a room and board, farther away from the bar. But it seems like every time you step out of the doors, those two aren’t as far away.

Despite your very thinning resistance, you’ve ignored their requests for the most part. Even though Jongho told you that their crimes aren’t as bad as you may think, you don’t want to involve yourself with them. Hongjoong is happy as well, hearing from you that you didn’t dare join them. In a weird sort of way, it feels like a mouse and cat game, the duo dropping their cheese in front of your nose, and you running away from it.

“Didn’t expect to see you out here,” A voice behind you hums lightly. You yelp, turning to the voice. Wooyoung stands there, hands tucked into his slacks as he looks at the peonies around you. He tilts his head, eyes flicking to yours. “Thought you left, S was a bit ruffled.” He hums softly, leaning against a rock.

“Did you follow me out here?” You ask sternly. “I told you two I’m not joining your little crew of bandits-”

Wooyoung clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Ah, watch your words, miss. Just ‘cause we been nice, don’t mean we can’t stop.” He motions his hands in a scissor motion, winking at you. “And I ain’t follow you. Here’s my resting place, ways away from commotion of Halazi. And it’s my mama’s land, so you’re intruding, not I.” He grins at you. “Could get yourself shot, miss y/n.”

Your heart drops to your stomach as you scramble to your feet, panic in your eyes. “Shit- I mean, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

Wooyoung wiggles his fingers, shaking his head. He reaches back, putting the hat on his head as he watches you. “Mama ain’t so easy to forgive, lucky she ain’t see you out here. But, since I did catch you,” He taps his finger against his pouty lips, pretending to think deeply. “You owe me now, don’t you?”

His eyebrows raise as his lips slowly curl into an evil grin. You mentally slap yourself. What were you thinking? All land must have been owned around here, it is a small town after all. And look at what you’ve gotten yourself into. Wooyoung watches as you go through the hoops in your mind, your nose scrunched up as your eyes flick back and forth. He rests on the rock easily, humming again.

“What do you want me to do?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Can’t think of any at this very moment. Get back to you?” He says, “But we gotta shake on it. Can’t be having some white lies told, you know?” He holds out his hand. If you looked closely enough you could have seen the slightly wicked look in his eyes, the pure lust as your fingers curled around his for a shake. He lifts up your entwined hands, pressing his lips against it lightly.

“Best get a move on, Mama be home soon enough. Can’t be having any daisies ‘round, she carries the big guns.” Wooyoung flicks his head, “Unless you’d like to stay. I have enough room for a visitor.”

You’re at least fifty percent sure he’s asking for you to twist the sheets with him, as they say. Or in your language, fuck. Your face warms furiously as you pull your hand out of his, shaking your head.

“As you said, I need to get moving.”

He watches as you walk past him, eyes struggling to keep them on only your head, nothing lower. It’s not common to see a lady dressed in tight-fitting clothing, and little did you know, they were luring away the men who dared to creep on you. Stares are fine, but the words that Yunho heard in the bars... Speaking of that, his eyes move to look in the distance, at the cowboy that’s been watching you as of late. Wooyoung moves away from his rock, fingers lingering to his holster as he begins his approach.

“They’ve killed again,” A voice says softly between the crowd. You don’t pay any mind, knowing who they’re talking about. You can’t quite keep up with the drama that happens with the Leaders, their names constantly at the edge of people’s tongues. Instead, you push your way through and stay in the library, also owned by Yeosang.

He sits in the corner as you read through books, trying desperately to find a way back to your time. You think you’ve had enough of the sand in places you’d rather not mention, and the lack of water to take showers in. You’re sure someone saw you trying to clean yourself in a pond. Oddly, though, the guys didn’t smell bad. But you’d rather not dwell on that thought.

“You've been here for three days, miss,” Yeosang says, glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. “Can just ask what you're looking for, youknow.”

You shake your head. “What if I told you I’m trying to figure out a way to go to the future, where you’re part of a boyband?”

Yeosang stays quiet for a moment, before he chortles to himself, shaking his head. “Spent too long with Jongho, sounding just like him. Boy band? Is that some sort of Sheriff department?”

You hold back your laughter, “Maybe I have been around Jongho too long.” These books in front of you could barely help you, most just telling you about folk tales, things you don’t need to know about right now. You put the books back on the shelves, thanking Yeosang before walking out. You hear a loud crowd in the distance, and squint, seeing men wearing black, surrounding someone on the ground. Your stomach drops once you recognize the figures from this distance.

Stay away, you say to yourself, keep under the radar. They already want you a part of them, and involving yourself in things like this would only entice them more. Make you tied up in drama you have no business being in. You look away, despite the growing yelling. This isn’t Hongjoong’s town; he’d never show up. But some part of you tells you to look, and you see someone running up to them. A shotgun is in their fingers, the Leaders’ backs to him.

Your eyes widen. He’s going to shoot them. He’s going to kill them with their backs to him. Your body immediately starts running, barely keeping yourself on your two feet as you breathe through your nose, pushing through randoms walking around. The man is so close, so very close. You might be too late, you might see one of them being killed -

San stands just over the man on the ground, an angry sneer on his lips as he aims his gun at him. Wooyoung stands next to him, Seonghwa on the opposite side with Yunho staring down at him. They don’t see the man aiming his gun, eyes narrowed as he adjusts his shot.

“San, move!” You scream, feet away. The shotgun man turns around as you yell, but turns back, finger slowly pressing on the trigger. You leap, shoving your body against San as the shot rings through the air. You’re not too sure where the others are, too focused on getting him out of danger.

You both fall to the ground in a loud thump, his body somehow rolling on top of yours. You hear commotion behind the two of you as you take heavy breaths, eyes on one another. He looks between yours, flicking around your face. A hand reaches out, brushing your hair away from your eyes.

“Shit, you got a cut. What the fuck were you thinking, funning in front of a shot like that?” He curses, anger in his voice. But you can only see the worry reflected in his eyes as he looks over you. “Don’t be stupid,” he hisses.

“If you paid more attention to who’s around you maybe I wouldn’t have to be stupid, stupid.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Stubborn gal.”

“Quit kissing faces and get up,” You hear a voice above the both of you, anger dripping from his words. You look back, seeing Wooyoung staring down at the both of you. “No time for flirting. Gotta show them no mercy.”

San looks down at you, a silly grin on his lips. “W sounds a bit cheeky, don’t he?” He lifts himself away from your body, holding out his hand to help you up. Reminds you of the first time you’ve met him, saved from the prison. But this time, Wooyoung helps you up from behind, San slowly dropping his arm.

Wooyoung glares at the blood dripping from your forehead, ignoring the scowls his partner gives him. “S is right, you know. Keep yourself outta trouble, you here? Ain’t want you to join us this way.” He grabs something from his back pocket. It’s a roll of cloth, he wraps it around the small wound, whistling.

He secures it with a metal clip, smiling lightly at his handy work before straightening his back, looking at the others. Yunho and Seonghwa stay silent, exchanging looks, while San’s fuming, his glare having the potential to melt any man who receives it. You can tell that Wooyoung knows he’s furious but chooses to ignore it, eyes moving to the man on the ground that attempted to kill them.

Some people that you don’t recognize hold him down. San crouches over, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Lucky this darling here is watching,” San stands. “Hwa. Take care of him, have other matters to tend to.” His eyes look at you. “Follow me.”

San paces around the room, Wooyoung sitting in the furthest corner. He watches you silently, darker eyes blinking rarely. His trenchcoat that drapes to the floor is oddly terrifying, making your eyes look over to him every so often. A part of you itches to speak up and ask exactly why he isn't blinking, but now seems like the wrong time. Yunho and Seonghwa are dealing with the man who tried to assassinate San, somewhere in the Halazi station. You bite your lip nervously, wondering why they insisted on you coming with them. They gave you room to refuse, of course, their gentlemanly cowboy ways superseding their need to speak with you.

San finally stops pacing, stopping a few feet away from you. "You’re strange." He says softly, eyes looking through his hair. "Can't seem to' wrap my noggin 'round you. Cold Cool as a winter's morn' but warm as Mama's sweet apple pie."

...

"Um—"

"You tell us to stay away, and we do for most parts." San nods at that. "Keep them sleazy men away from you since you insist on wearing revealing wear." He eyes your pants, before looking away. If you squint, you can see a slight color change to his cheeks.

If they call your pants and very thick shirt revealing, you could only imagine them in your time. Seeing short sleeve shirts and ankles. They'd go mad.

"But you saved me," he mumbles softly, rubbing his bottom lip. "Woo," his eyes flick to his partner. "Don't you think it's awfully strange of miss y/n to help us? Aught to make one wonder.“ He strokes his chin, humming to himself.

Wooyoung’s brows raised slowly, clicking his tongue. “You’re right. Why she helping us? Could’ve just left us for dead. Let the vultures pick off the bones. Seems like this lady cares ‘bout us.”

You can’t help but scoff at them, eyes-rolling. You don’t catch the clenching of Wooyoung’s jaw, San’s eyes narrowing at your action. “Talk about being full of yourselves. If you were anyone else I’d still do the same thing. Don’t try to stroke your ego.”

Wooyoung’s rings glisten as he moves away from the wall, taking slow steps closer to you. “Can’t help but talk like that, hm? It’s been a few now, you should’ve learned.”

“Learned what?” You say, keeping your voice steady. You hear a slight crack in your tone, hoping that they don’t notice. But from the slow curving of their lips, they know.

“Learned that the Leaders are called that for a reason, sweet pea. Learned that we only tolerate so little, and you crossed the line more than once,” he raises his fingers, flicking each one up as he counts. “Too many to even add up, you see.” He slowly tucks his hands in his pocket, chain glistening against his neckline.

San nods along. “That pretty face a’ yours only seems to get you in trouble. You know how many men we’ve fought off? Your feet are golden, darling. And you still walk around here like you own the town. Makes us look weak, and we can’t have that, hm?” He tilts his head, earring brushing against his skin as he eyes you. “Heard you owe Woo a favor.”

You don’t know whether to be frightened, scared, or a third thing. You watch as Wooyoung places his hat to the side, loosening his jacket. Your eyes glue to his exposed skin like you’re a deprived man from the 1700s seeing ankles for the first time. He reaches for his rings, but stops himself, smirking.

“You like the rings on me, don’t you?”

You swallow slowly, and San raises his eyebrows at you. “Answer the question, darling.”

“I do.” You say, seeing Wooyoung glance back at you. He slowly takes off his vest, leaving the loose-fitting shirt the only thing covering his chest from the both of you. San’s eyes drift over Wooyoung’s figure, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. But you can see the piercing gaze that Wooyoung gives him, the need dripping from his pupils as he looks back. Your heart pumps in your chest, quickly realizing what’s happening.

“I have the favor ready,” Wooyoung says softly, loosening the first few buttons. You see the golden shine of his chest as he moves closer, now inches away. “Ready to hear?” His voice rumbles in his chest, surly. His eyes lazily slide to your lips, before moving back to your eyes. San slowly approaches, taking off layers of his skin as Woo stares you down.

“Yes.”

He sneers, finger slowly trailing over the curve of your chin, stopping at the corner of your lips. He presses lightly on the skin, “Here’s my favor. Try not to scream, sweet pea.”

“Doubt that, don’t you think? Lady looks like a faucet,” San’s tongue trails over his lips as he watches Wooyoung’s fingers slowly go down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your eyes flutter through trembling breaths as the rough pads of his thumbs dig lightly into your hips, slowly sliding you closer to him.

“There’s always room to say no, sweet pea,” Wooyoung says, barely above a whisper. “We love our ladies rough, but we always respect them. Like true gentlemen,” he snickers lightly. “Well, the gentle part isn’t as true.”

“Remember seeing you for the first time in the calaboose,” San says, watching as Wooyoung’s hands slowly slide underneath your shirt, rubbing lightly against your skin. He keeps his eyes steady on yours, biting his lip each time you twitch under his hold. “Thought you were an owl hoot, there to serve your time, but I suppose not?” He throws his hat to the side, fingers gracing over his pistol, before he lays it on the counter of the saloon.

Wooyoung distracts you, pressing his hips into yours. He slowly brings your body forward, light moans each time you rub against his hard bulge. You try to concentrate on San’s words, but Woo is taking up most of your attention, head leaning down and peppering kisses against your skin.

“Too pretty to be in that place, covered in dirt. Didn’t think I’d see you again, but look at what we've been through! Pistol whips, visits, bumping into one another. Don’t believe in soul’s meeting, but,” San walks to the door of the bar, locking it behind him, putting the closed sign on the outside.

It was open this whole time? Anyone could have walked in, seeing Wooyoung pressing himself against you as San watched. You tremble at the thought, Wooyoung biting your skin lightly.

“You smell too good, sweet pea,” he whispers against your skin. “Wonder if you smell good in other places.”

“Ah, you're spoiling her, don’t you think?” San nudges Woo’s arm. He presses one light peck to your neck before moving back. San stares at you, tilting his head in thought. “Wanted to see you like this for a while now. Didn’t expect to have ‘nother in the room, but that only makes things interesting.”

“Take our time?” Wooyoung asks, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Bar opens in less than a nick’s time. Can’t have any ol’ seeing her like this.”

San sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Choices?”

Wooyoung rubs his chin, glancing at you. “Wait ‘til tonight, might be-a few hours, passed drunk fighting. Or, have sweet pea here and now, tonight can be round two.”

San nods slowly, eyes moving to you. “Your choice, darling.”

“Now.” You say simply.

San’s lip twitches in the corner. “Now? Can’t wait for us, can you?”

Wooyoung snickers, “Look at our sweet pea. She’s trembling just thinking ‘bout what we’d do to her.”

“Or that you’re taking too long to even start,” You say softly, eyebrow flicking in challenge. “Two boys in front of me but neither are even trying.”

You hear a low rumble from Wooyoung’s chest, taking a step forward. San stops him, quirking his brows. “Can’t stop that mouth of yours, hm? Still haven’t learned.”

You reach for your vest, slowly unbuttoning each one. Their eyes trail to your fingers, watching each one come loose. Once you reach the bottom, you toss it to the side, your smirk mirroring there’s from earlier. San moves first, pressing his lips against yours. It’s in no way gentle, feverish as you let him pull off your shirt. Your teeth clash against one another as he loosens his belt, throwing it to the side. You hear a crash, your head slightly turning to the sound. But San’s wandering hands feel your breasts, a soft moan falling from your lips.

“You’re a pretty thang, aren’t ya?” He whispers. You’ve forgotten about the other for a moment, at least until you feel his ring covered hands slowly moving underneath your trousers, tugging them down. San leans back slightly away from you, lifting you up against the counter as Wooyoung takes them completely off, leaving your bottom bare against the counter.

You shiver at the cold of the counters. San slowly spreads your thighs, flicking below. “Ah, you’re soaked, darlin’. Gonna make my bar all dirty.”

You feel the metal of Woo’s fingers press against your core, a low growl falling from his lips as San flicks your nipple, squeezing your breasts. He slowly presses kisses into your skin, covering your nipple with his lips, lightly sucking. You wrap your fingers in his locks as Wooyoung slowly inserts two fingers into you.

“Sucking me right in,” He mumbles, a featherlike kiss pressed just above your clit. You moan as he chuckles, tongue slowly trailing over the nub. Your hips lift forward at the touch, his fingers moving in and out of you quickly. “Feel you squeezing around me, sweet pea. How can I even fit if you’re already this tight?”

He sucks on your slit, enjoying you trembling at his ministrations. San takes your other breast in his mouth as Wooyoung increases the pace, another finger added. You feel him pressing his thumb into the other hole, slightly spreading your ass. You widen your eyes as he uses your slick to press two fingers into it.

“Shit,” You gasp. The buildup to your high is quick, Wooyoung’s eager growls into your cunt, skilled fingers sucking him in with little resistance; San’s soft lips, teeth biting lightly. Plump lips wrap around your slick as your cunt sucks in his fingers with little resistance.‌ Your eyes roll back as you spasm against his fingers. You push him away as you slowly reach the point of overstimulation, his head moving away. You can see your slick covering his cheeks, fingers covered in you.

“As sweet as a pumpkin pie, sweet pea,” he says softly. “Would give Mama a run for her money.”

San rolls his eyes, “Talking bout ya momma right now?” He strips off his pants, your eyes immediately flicking between his thighs. His cock springs out onto his belly, dripping with precum. You groan at the size, until you hear the ruffling of another pair of pants. Their eyes scan your body, too clouded with lust to think of anything else. San’s eyes scan yours, waiting for your consent.

“Both of us, at the same time. Think you can handle that?” He rubs his length slowly, enticing you.

“Think you can handle me?” You say, smiling up at him.

His eyes go dark, your face reflects his eyes as he leans down, pressing his lips lightly against yours. “Lift up for me, darling. W is gon’ take your behind, I’ll take you right here…” he cups your cunt.

You get off of the counter when he lets go, Wooyoung replacing you. He looks at the clock, worry in his eyes. “Less than cooking time now.” He looks at you. “Your words say a lot, let's see if we can prove it true.”

You slowly move forward, San slapping your ass as you press your lips against Wooyoung’s. His fingers curl in your hair, kiss much more gently than San’s. His tongue plays with yours slowly, before he pulls back. Through the lust, you can see the tender look he gives you. Something you haven’t seen from him.

“You’re doing so well. Can’t wait to see you sitting on me.”

You roll your eyes, turning around as he laughs. He helps you sit on his lap backward, his cock twitching against your ass as he groans, licking the curve of your neck. “Ready for me, sweet pea?”

“Yes.”

You slowly sink on his cock, fingers digging into his thighs at the stretch. His descent into you is slow, his lips pressing against your neck as you groan, trying his best to distract you from the burning feeling. You sit there for a moment, the overwhelming feeling of your ass being filled distracting you from San for a moment. Wooyoung continues to press kisses into your skin, until San clicks his tongue.

His cock looks as if it's almost vibrating, waiting. “Ready for me, darling?”

San watches as you nod for him, moving towards you. He wastes no time; rocking his cock a couple of times before sinking into your cunt with vigor. You didn’t realize how long he is; the head of his cock nudging at your cervix. You moan, his balls resting at the entrance. You feel more full than you’ve ever did before, your mind consumed with only them.

Wooyoung moves tentatively, fingers digging into your hips as he moves.

“Relax up, y/n,” San mumbles, rubbing your arm softly. You wrap your arms around his neck, forehead pressing against one another. “Can feel you movin’, W.”

“Move, fuck… move, or else I’ll cum right into her,” Wooyoung says through clenched teeth, moaning every time he feels your rim squeeze against his cock. San lets out a breath as he slowly drags his cock out of you. His gaze moves between your legs, watching as Wooyoung’s cock moves, his disappear in and out of you.

“You look so pretty underneath me,” he mumbles.

You open your mouth to reply, but he takes that chance to sink into you quickly, pressing lips against yours. Your combined moans echo in the room as they move in sink; San in, Wooyoung out. Wooyoung pushing in, San moving away. The rolling of San’s hips hitting yours with ease, skin pressing against your clit each time he pushes in. Wooyoung’s hips move with the force of San; not stuttering once.

“Faster,” You encourage, causing Wooyoung to laugh behind you.

“You’re real different, y/n,” he says, but his body agrees with your request, picking up the pace. The feeling of being moved between both of their bodies, Wooyoung’s shirt covered chest pressing into your back, San’s sweat dripping onto you makes you weak, your breaths stuttering.

You hear a knock on the door. San’s pace quickens, hips becoming bolder as he collides with you, the squelching sounds echoing in the small bar. Wooyoung’s grip is so tight, you’re sure he’s going to leave a mark. They don’t seem to care about how loud their being, the knocks disappearing quickly.

San groans as he slowly reaches his high. “Gon’ empty in you, y/n. Tell me no, if you don’t want it.”

“San,” You struggle through your gasps, and he grins at you, your eyes moist and head thrown back. “Please.”

“You’re doing so well for me, y/n. Look so pretty underneath me. But I n-need to know-”

“Cum in me,” You say through gasps. “Both of you.”

His groan makes your body tremble. Your fingers are probably putting cuts into Wooyoung’s thighs as you scream, cunt squeezing against their cocks as you finally cum.

Wooyoung’s muscles strain as he holds you up, veins popping out on his arm as he revels in the feeling of your cunt around him. His hips seem to only go faster and faster, trying to hit his high. But once the squeeze of your rim tightens against his cock, he groans, pressing in once more. His hips sputtering as his cock-squeezing out his cum.

San isn’t too far away, desperate gasps as he slams his balls against your cunt. He pushes in once, twice, before his hips sputter, his balls slapping against you. You feel the hot of his cum hit your walls, his warm body pulling you into his chest, pressing kisses into your forehead. Wooyoung wraps his arm around you from behind, your pants echoing around the room.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. We got five,” San mumbles, his cock popping out of you. The smell of sex surrounds you all as he quickly grabs a piece of cloth from the side, slowly cleaning you off. He grins at the mess they made between your legs, Wooyoung taking his cock out. San presses the fabric into your holes as you whine, pushing him away.

“Wait.”

“Can’t have the children on the floor, darling,” San winks. “W, bring her to the back. Can’t have her ‘round when the doors open.”

Wooyoung wastes no time in picking you up with a yelp, holding you gently as he carries you to the doors behind the bar. He looks at you, pushing your hair away from your face.

“Haven’t seen you more beautiful than now, sweet pea.”

He lightly places you on the bed, looking around for a water bucket. Once he finds it, he slowly cleans you up, humming softly. You don’t know what to say. What’s your relationship now? Are they going to throw you away right after this, a one time thing? You’re not even sure if you want to continue it, but the thought of never seeing them again makes your stomach twist.

Wooyoung seems to see the conflicting emotions on your face, because he stops bringing the pants up your legs, lightly cupping your cheek with his hand. “We ain’t gon’ give you up that easily, sweet pea. If you want us, that is.”

You widen your eyes, holding back your smile as you look at him. “So, this isn’t a one time thing? You’re not gonna toss me away?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “When you hit gold, do you just throw it away? No, you cherish it, keep it as your own. We want you as ours, sweet pea.” he looks into the distance. “All of us do.”

“…All of you?”

Wooyoung gives you a lopsided smile, eyes crinkling in the corners. “You thought we two were the only ones?”

#fic: the leaders #wooyoung x reader #san x reader #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez fanfiction #jung wooyoung x reader #choi san x reader

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

Note

hello!! ⭐, I saw that your order section was open and yesterday I read your story of buggy with the Roger effect and Jessica Rabit and I loved it, and I would like to know if you could do a one shot or something shorter if you prefer showing how they met and they decided to get married I love your stories and I think that, like your buggy, he is my favorite character. If you don't like this request or you think it's not good to do it, you can just ignore it, it won't be a bad thing 😸 thank you and have a good day!! 💗✨ (pd. English is not my first language so sorry if something is not written well😔)

Deal! I love this little idea

Buggy x FemReader

Small angst + Fluff

Heart on my Sleeve

Prequel Of Roger and Jessica Rabbit Effect

Wanna Buy me a Ko-Fi ☕️

• Your village was one of the poorest villages in the East Blue, the taxes from the World Goverment crippling your home to be a starving wasteland.

• Mainly to the wealthy Governor who lived above your town.

• You owned a fabric shop but the fabrics you owned were old and starting to rot from the lack of buissness. The moths having more use put of your fabrics then you did-

• The newest pirate on the scene Buggy the Clown shows up to your village ready to pillage it, in his early 20s with a fresh faced crew. However they did not expect the village to look worse then before they arrived.

• "I thought you said this place had money?" Buggy asked as he looked at the place. Lowering his blades as it looked like this place- it was in shambles. Like it had been pillaged to time then a pirate

• You had walked out of your shop, seeing if maybe the baker had just enough flour so you could feed yourself. Turning to see the group of pirates that seemed better off then you and your people.

• Buggy stared hard at you and matched forward, seeing that you were quite pretty in his eyes as he stood before you.

• "You! Tell me what the hell is wrong with this place! We heard it was rich here!" He said angrily, clearly upset at not getting to a small village that at least had a few Berries.

• You looked up at the pirate, noting the far too big of clothes for his frame and his painted face- Not liking he was putting such an unflattering green around his watercolor eyes. His face twisting up in anger as he caught you staring at his face.

• "What are you staring at!? You looking at my nose!" He yelled angrily, his fingers going to the inner part of your coat where you assumed some weapon would be.

• "No your shirts too big for your frame and that shade of green doesn't compliment your eyes well" You said truthfully, At this point a knife or bullet being a kinder death then starving anyway-

•"U-Uh- What?" He said confused, Unsure how to answer. You reaching forward and putting your arms around his frame to pull back the shirt. Taking a pin from your pocket and pinning the shirt back so it fit properly.

• "See- Your shirt is too big. It looks better fitted like that" You pointed out, His faze looking down at the pinned back shirt. His face red at how close you got to him, or that you'd touched him at all.

• "As for money we have non. The governor has the taxes so hide no one here can even feed themselves" You said truthfully, The young clown blinking at you in surprise.

• "Er- Y-Youre making fun of me somehow right? Like my Nose" He tried to yell again grabbing the front of your dirty shirt- clearly not used to someone trying to give him kind useful advice without some sort of motive.

• "I would never make fun of your nose, it looks fine to me anyways" You snap back and slap his hand away calmly. He blinked at you surprised and released your hand- His eyes going up the hill of the village and seeing the grand governors house hidden in some trees.

• He huffed and shoved you hard, you falling into the mud as him and his crew marched past up to the Governors home.

• However what did surprise you was the next Morning the Captian and his Crew stood in the village square and announced he now owned the village. Saying he was Buggy the Clown- and that he was now in charge.

• Before starting to hand out some stolen treasure??? Giving some supplies he had 'liberated' from the Governors house.

• You also noticed how his eyes lingered on you as he did this.

• It had been a few months like this, he would stop by randomly pay for the village. He wasn't taking taxes but instead paying things- it was improving greatly, the cracks of the pavements on the streets getting repaired, new paint on the building and new businesses flourishing-

• But you noticed how he would pay extra attention to your shop- Getting all his things from you. How you got extra rolls of fabric delivered to your door or how he would pay for all these extra accessories to his costumes.

• "You seamstress I want another coat!" He yelled as he invaded your shop.

• Buggy was there again, asking for another ridiculous costume. You couldn't help but notice how often he was coming by- claiming he wanted new costumes by you and wanting to be measured everytime he came in.

• How he would blush when you measured around his chest. "You know, I noticed you always come through here and stop specifically at my shop for new outfits when you wear the same coat" You tease, watching him blush at you pointing this out.

• "So what!" He yelled out, his face as red as a cherry. You look at him and raise a brow at him, Not even having to say a word as Buggy deflated.

• "...I uh wanted to take you on a date" He grumbled, finally admitting what his plans were. You smiled at this, Setting the tape aside.

• "Now please do tell me, Why should I accept your offer for someone who not only yelled in my face but pushed me in mud-" You point out, even though you knew he most likely made up for it by him saving your village.

• "..I am sorry about that.." He forced out, you could tell he wasn't used to apologizing and was trying his hardest.

• "I forgive you, But that doesn't mean I'll forget" You say calmly. Smiling softly as you saw him looking ready to flip put at the rejection but you held a hand to him-

• "I know- So why don't we make a deal. Since I can tell you're really sorry why don't we agree to dinner and go from there? Its not a date per say but its a start" You said with a smile, his eyes lit up at hearing this at the prospect of getting to win you over.

• "Really!?" He says excitedly, Jumping up and down like a school boy as he blushed and giggled into his gloved hands like a kid. You couldn't help but find it adorable-

• For the next year Buggy would send gifts, love letters, help rebuild the village. Do everything to get in your good graces and ask for a official date every time he visited.

• Buggy would essentially own the Village at the point, 30% of his money went to the village to get it on its feet and keep it a small strip of paradise the very limited taxes he implimented later affer the village was florishing acted as a small form of secondary income. Mainly making sure people knew the place was protected by him as his reputation grew through time.

• Him even showing his unique Devil fruit abilties- Which you often abused for him to float up and grab the more expensive rolls of fabric or hang up finished cloths.

• The village also being a popular tourist destination for the friendly locals and nice scenery. So for Buggy it was worth the investment since originally put in.

• After that 'probation' year you would finally agree to officially date him and he was over the damn moon.

• While he would be secretive about you, his love language was strong. He is both physically and verbally affectionate- While he still throws his fits you know how to handle him well. Loving him both for his strengths and flaws.

• It would be 1 years of dating before Buggy would start planning how to pop the question.

- You were closing up shop for the day, humming along to a made up tune when you heard the back door of your shop being unlocked. You didn't have to look to know who it was, only one other person had the key to it.

"Hey Buggy Boo" You call out, smiling as you heard Buggy grumble and peel off his boots to leave them by the front door.

"That is still such a bad nickname" He grumbled before walking behind you and kissing your cheek and wrapping his arms around you. He smelled like the sea, clearly having just gotten off his shop to visit you. He had been taking more time out to see, wanting to get his bounty higher. Currently proud of his 5,000,000 berry bounty which for a early 20s pirate was fairly good he claimed.

"Ah you love it" You giggle which earned a adorable chuckle from the man.

"You know (Y/N)- I uh really like you and Want to spend my.."

"So I wanted us to have dinner tonight- I know you like that place down the street and want us to go there" He said, his voice very soft- Much softer then normal.

Smiling you turn around and kiss him on the lips.

"I'd love to" You say cheerfully, earning a crooked smile from him as he held you close.

As promised, that night Buggy took you to your favorite restaurant. Having gotten a private table in the back, you two spending hours just talking and sharing a meal together.

Buggy even pulling out a box of your favorite candies he had gotten out from his last adventure.

After dinner he lead you away to the more scenic parts of your Village a small meadow pass that had the most beautiful blue and white flowers, under the moonlight it looked so magical. You saw Buggy reach in his pockets and turn to face you, nervousness painted on his face as he shuffled his feet. Clearly prepared to get on one knee-

"You stole my Thunder!!" He cried in faux anger, you laughing hard as he ranted about how you knew so quickly, happy tears running down your cheeks as you smiled and his face turned deep red.

"Yes I will!" You said with a wide smile, your excitement getting the best of you as you slapped your hands over your own mouth. His jaw dropping in shock.

"I've been planning this for 4 months!!" He whined, face so red his nose was glowing as he stared at you.

"Im so sorry Baby, You just- You talk in your sleep my Love." You reveal with a smile, His face twisting up as he realized you'd known the whole time and let him try to have his moment anyway. You had just got too excited and answering too quickly-

As this sunk in he smiled widely and started to laugh, he couldn't help it! You were just too perfect for him! Despite everything you still let him have the spotlight. He kissed your lips eagerly and held you close, rocking the two of you side to side in pure joy.

"I.. I love you (Y/N)..So much- I cant wait for you to be my wife.." He said as he pressed his face into your neck- You could feel the warmth of tears hitting your skin exposed. Your arms wrapped tightly around him as you hug him close and cried against him in joy.

Pulling the both of you to the ground with a loud laugh as you two laid in the flowers- Laughs leaving you both as tears stilled from both of your eyes.

"I love you too Buggy Boo"

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy thoughts #op buggy #buggy x female reader #buggy x wife reader

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m1d-45 · 7 months

Note

Lowkey thinking about. You know how when you finally get the character you've been saving up for, you start freaking out? Cheering, celebrating, stuff like that? Imagine the characters being able to hear you and being so damn happy they brought you such joy. -sibling anon

collision course

word count: ~500

-> warnings: minor spoilers for xiao lore, wink and a nod to neuvilette lore, minor spoilers for freminet lore, potentially ooc lyney(?)

-> gn reader (you/yours) and freminet, lyney, neuvillette, and xiao, in that order

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr

< masterlist >

freminet is tempted to reach for his diving helmet when he hears your cheers, wanting to hide from the blush that threatens to break out and the sudden wave of panic. had he kept you waiting? what if he didn’t meet your expectations? he wasn’t all that familiar with combat, less so on dry land… all of this flashed through his head at lightning speed, but he did his best to put it aside. he held pers against his chest, letting himself smile the longer your celebrations go on. just wait until lyney and lynette hear about this…

lyney is proud. it’s like the high he gets after a show well done, but instead of the deafening cheers of the audience, its the happy celebration of one. he knows you can’t see him—not entirely, anyway, your device blurring his features—so he doesn’t keep himself from smiling. his eyes close to block out everything else but you, welcoming the divinity in the air as it begins to seep into his skin. he’d been looking forward to this moment ever since he got his vision, even going so far as to plan out how he’d tell his siblings. he’d stop by the market for fresh fish—or maybe pick up a treat from Café Lucerne, or maybe both. today was a day of great celebration, and he was glad you were as happy as him.

neuvillette is surprised at first. on one hand, of course he’d return to you, and he didn’t like that doubt about that was ever present in your mind. when he’d received his constellation, he’d made a promise to both himself and you that he’d do his very best to answer the stars when—if, he reminded himself—you came looking for him. on the other… it was beautiful to hear your joy. your laughter echoed around him, and he committed every part of your celebration to memory. you were thanking him, funnily enough.. perhaps when you descended, he’d have the chance to thank you properly? for now, though, the best he could do was keep the skies of fontaine clear. whatever you wanted, you would have, and if you wanted him, then who was he to deny you?

xiao has very little visible reaction, not that you’d see it anyway what with the screen between your world and his. internally, he does worry for a moment about your happiness—had he missed you before? it felt excessive, to be so excited over him… should you call, he would always be there in an instant. it was even written into his contract with morax that he would defer his duties to liyue if you needed him. every part of him was an extension of your will, right down to the nature of his work; he worked day and night to protect his section of your world, keeping watch for any who tried to disturb it. if he had it his way, you wouldn’t have to use any more than one star for him to come, but your link to teyvat was a tentative one. he’d have to repay you for the trouble later.

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acethegaycard · 1 year

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Favorites?

Showing blatant favoritism towards Xiao when you get isekai'd into Teyvat

SAGAU, they all know your name, voice, and face for convenience. Divine/creator reader

hehehehe giving this man the love he deserves >:D

------------------------------------------------------------------------------One of the first things you did when in Teyvat was call Xiao.

Yes, your currently with Albedo in his lab, accompanied by like half of the playable Mondstadt characters, in a very comfy blanket, but you just need to see him.

Xiao thought he was going to meet the face of the traveler.

On the off chance that he heard your voice calling him, it was always through the traveler. So he was met with an unexpected face when he appeared in the lab. Yours.

And what was even more surprising to him was how your face lit up the moment you saw him. He didn't expect you of all people to call him, and he definitely wasn't understanding why you were so happy to see him.

He excuses it as you being happy to finally be in Teyvat.

It was more than that.

He doesn't think he'll ever understand why your so energetic and excited to just talk to him. But I mean, who would refuse time with their grace? Not him.

Was caught very unexpected by your blatant favoritism. He was never one to chat a lot, so you constant visits accompanied with a fresh plate of almond tofu were hard to get used to. Not that he didn't enjoy being around you no, quite the opposite. He thought that surely you had much more important things to do than spend all day talking to him. Apparently not!

Tries his best. He deeply appreciates you, along with everything you've done even when blocked behind the barrier of your screen. Thinks its highly unnecessary for you to bring him food every time you visit. You have no need to do such a thing, he'd feel honored just to be with you.

He loves to listen to you talk about your world. It seems so different from Teyvat. Intently listens every time to tell a story of some sort, he listens as if its the best story he's heard in a millennium. If you pay close enough attention, you'll see a scowl of his face whenever you talk about somebody or something that had done something to you in the past. He grips the railing of the inn slightly tighter as well.

The more often your visits become, the more he secretly looks forward to them. At first, he saw chatting with you as some sort of honor. And while he still does, he's become more relaxed when being around you. You're comforting to him now. That's something he never thought would happen.

He basically becomes a bodyguard. You usually travel in a group to ensure your safety, but there's a 90% chance that all the nearby threats to your safety are completely gone before you even set foot onto the road. The more you get to know each other, the more you realize just how often he's around. Ensuring your safe is his way of being appreciative.

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

this is an old draft don't mind how the beginning is written.

#xiao #xiao x reader #sagau #sagau xiao #xiao sagau #sagau x reader #genshin #genshin impact #xiao genshin impact #xiao fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff

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strangersmunsons · 2 months

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💖 Eddie Munson x Reader Fic Recs 💖

I just wanna show some appreciation for a few of my all-time favorite Eddie fics! Here’s a handful of the series & oneshots that have really stuck out to me in all the time I've been reading - there's A TON of great writers on here who have posted really stellar work :^)

List under the cut!

june baby by @luveline - luveline jade u are a celebrity to me. this was the first Eddie story I ever read and it is so beautiful. it's tender. it's melancholy. it's realistic. it's gorgeous. it honestly makes me feel something I've never felt reading any other fanfiction.

oh, baby by @inknopewetrust - another one of my first Eddie fics! the feeling that this series invoked in me is what I aspire to invoke in others for my own writing someday. it's just so sweet and funny and made me nostalgic, in the same way that watching '80s teen films do, except it's even better because Eddie is in this one. I wanted so badly to just dive into the story and really experience it for myself.

hoping I'll find [a glimpse of us] by @inknopewetrust - this smashed my heart into 1000 pieces, and then promptly glued it very sloppily back together and I've reread it like six times just to reinflict the pain. I love rockstar!Eddie stories that maintain some realism about what that type of relationship would look like, and this fic does that SO perfectly. masterclass in angst right here.

dancing with myself by @ambrossart - this one hits close to home! and even though it hurts along the way, there's a happy ending that it builds so nicely towards! it's beautifully paced & the reader is very funny. you can just tell that the her backstory & relationship w/ Eddie was so carefully thought out, it really feels like this was written with so much love! and I LOVE that it doesn't paint Chrissy as a villain.

10 things I hate about you by @spideyanakin - so glad that we all collectively agree that Patrick is Eddie-coded. and in this fic the parallels are there, without Eddie sacrificing his own unique character - that part is handled really beautifully! and the ST characters are worked into the original movie's narrative so well. it's the perfect mix of fluff and drama!

freaky friday by @jo-harrington - I adore this series! I love this version of Eddie so much I could cry, he is so sweet and selfless, I want to give him the entire world. and an Eddie & Steve body swap? 10/10. lindsay and jamie lee, eat your hearts out.

to know you're mine by @blueywrites - oooohboy. I almost didn’t read this one (just because I would normally avoid swinging/cheating in a fic) but I'm so glad I did, because it was like being on the homer's odyssey of 18+ ST fanfiction. it’s wild. bluey girl u were insane for this. and i mean that as an extremely high compliment. i was so damn invested!

i will wait by @abibliophobiaa, @blueywrites, @breddiemunson, @myosotisa, @fracturedarkness - there's three chapters, it's on hiatus, I don't care, I will literally keep reading these three chapters over and over again and just fill in the blanks myself if I must. it's that good. you guys are amazing. I am totally enthralled.

rumor by @msgexymunson - this is what turned me on to older!Eddie. I love him, and I desire him carnally, and specifically this version of him. when I daydream about Eddie sweeping me off my feet, I think about Eddie in this series. he's everything to me. I even wrote my own older neighbor Eddie fic because of this!

trapped under ice by @munson-blurbs - the iron grip this fic had me in...I'm still going back and re-reading my favorite parts. it's beautifully developed. this version of Eddie is so real and believable. Harris is my favorite kid he's ever been given. an all-time, truly, I can't sing its praises enough.

siren!eddie by @parkermunson - a monster-ish Eddie fic! I'm a sucker for anything that incorporates mermaids and sirens and the like, so I really love this concept. it's a great story, I love our protective, doting fishboy, and hope to see more of him!

use me by @reysorigins - simultaneously the nastiest and sweetest fic ever. smut, but it's interspersed with these moments of such deep-seated love and yearning between Eddie and the reader that it made me want to cry! incredible piece.

mine and yours by @muertawrites - ahhhh this one is so so sweet! dating is so fucking hard, I think we could all use a comforting, reassuring moment with a sweetheart like Eddie, who is especially kind to us in this fic. I love the way he’s written here.

our patron saint of the arts by @storiesbyrhi - I love an artsy, crafty reader! I feel like Eddie would be sooo into someone who’s creatively-minded like him. this is the dream relationship, basically, these two are adorable together! (and Eddie in a dress! 😗)

And this is just a sample of what’s out there! Some of these are fics that I read very early on, even before I started this blog. I was more shy then, too, so I feel like I never showed them the appreciation I should have! You guys are all so talented, these works are very inspiring to me.

To readers: I encourage you to let the writers know how much you enjoy their work! Reblog! Leave a comment, even if it’s just in the tags! Write a reply, or send them a message, even if it’s on anon! I’m trying to get better at doing these things myself, too 💖

#eddie munson fic recs #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson series #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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hiraya-rawr · 1 year

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looking for your favorites 3 (sagau)

synopsis !! they can't possibly be your favorite character. . . right?

characters !! wanderer, scaramouche, chongyun, abyss prince aether, razor

note !! EVERYTHING WAS WRITTEN IN MY FREETIME bit by bit, hence why it sometimes sounds a little off i guess? i tried to fix it as much as i could ++ I'm honestly not sure if I can continue writing for the og sagau concept, I keep twisting it into something else eeh- heheheh

contains !! gn reader, mild religious themes, honestly the sagau concept is a little everywhere in this one, i couldnt seem to settle on one type, spoilers on sumeru's archon quest, scaramouche/wanderer spoilers

• • •

A Genshin Player typically has a variety of characters to choose from. Such options can range from free-to-play characters to limited five stars. Regardless of how much one invested in the game, they're bound to have at least a handful of options.

This is what all characters are aware of— that they are options among hundreds to thousands of vision holders across Teyvat, with every character being special and enticing in their own way.

There's no way they could be the favorite.

Right?

[x] WANDERER

He doesn't quite know who he is.

He doesn't understand what his purpose is either.

He just wanders, lost, nation to nation in hopes of maybe discovering a sense of fulfillment.

And with all the wandering he's done, he -of course- has heard about you. A special entity to this world. A small part of him wonders if you'd know the answers to his questions (or perhaps, you could make use of him? If he could be useful to someone like you, then surely he would feel fulfilled?).

Despite his quiet hopes, he wasn't in any rush to find you. Nor did he hope for you to actually make use of him. He just continued wandering, from the mountains of Liyue to the forests of Sumeru— all the way to where he is now. The barren desert, with nothing but sand for miles and miles to see (and perhaps that rather intimidating, flipped pyramid at a distance).

Needless to say, he wasn't expecting you of all people to follow his tracks out into the desert.

At first you were just a spech amongst the sands, then you became clearer with your approach, showing more and more the familiar features he once saw in passing amongst statues or paintings.

When you were finally within hearing distance, you raised a hand as if to call out his name, hesitating for a moment before deciding what to say—

"Wanderer!"

He tilts his head, pausing to face you as you walk closer. The sand around you stills, as if no longer fighting against every footstep you take, and instead assisting you to come closer.

"You are. . . the one this world was created for, right?" He asks unsure as soon as you were close enough

"I suppose I am?" You reply with a laugh, and he finds that he quite likes your laugh. "I tried looking for you, I'm glad I caught up before you got too deep into the desert."

"You tried looking for me. . ? Why?"

"Because how could I visit Teyvat without meeting you?" You smile softly. He looks away, it doesn't make sense.

"Meeting me, huh. . . then may I ask for a favor?"

"Anything you want."

His eyes catches yours -sunlight hitting them just right- and without missing a beat, "Can I be of use to you? Can you give me purpose?"

You freeze, hands to your side as you stare back at him. In truth, you were expecting something like this, but now? So soon on your first meeting? He looks back seriously.

"Sca– Wanderer," You begin, "You're doing this. . . to find out who you are, right?"

He nods. You sigh.

"Well. . . I know a friend back in the city who can help you. They're a traveler as well. In fact, you can say they're a friend of yours!"

"A friend of mine. . ?"

"Trust me. You'll love them. And shall we go back?"

Go back? He wonders. There's miles and miles of sand around you.

"It would be nightfall soon. I don't think we'd be able to make it back today. I'm sorry."

You turn to him, lips in a wide smile. There's something wrapped between your fingers as you hold it out for him to catch. He opens his palm, it settles down slowly— it's. . . an anemo vision. Glowing brightly.

"Why walk when we can fly?" You grin.

bonus :

"Don't you feel hot at all?" You whine, shielding your eyes from the glare of sunlight.

"I have a hat."

"I see. . . "

[x] SCARAMOUCHE

* It's conflicting, really. Scaramouche despises gods— their invisible influence taunting him like he was a defective product, like he should be ashamed to ever think he could stand on their level.

* You were... an oddity in his feelings towards such powerful beings. The world was made for you, catered to you, and people naturally adored you (just like how they adored the traveler you've shown your favor to).

* So when you, the being which his very world was created for your entertainment, landed in Teyvat, as human as any human could be— he didn't know what to expect.

* He didn't care. There are hundreds for you to meet, and he's not about to wait in line, dilly-dallying for your attention like a common peasant.

* But in the open halls of the Tsaritsa's palace, you approach with the quick pattering of your heels.

* The crowd of Fatui workers naturally part as soon as they noticed your approach. It's odd enough to hear that the player begged to go to Snezhnaya -land of nothing but barren snow- but to rush to Scaramouche's main headquarters? Unheard of!

* Yet there you were, face to face with a single option out of hundreds (the single option you chose).

"What in Teyvat are you. . ." He trails off, his face scrunched between irritation and shock. He doesn't know what to say, really. Would insulting you incur some sort of divine fury?

"I came looking for you!" You reply.

He thinks you're an idiot. He shouldn't call you that, right? Would it damn him to the abyss or something?

"Why. . ." He tries to form the words, "Why in Teyvat would you–" He pauses, looking around at the small crowd.

With a glare, the Fatui agents scatter away from the hall. It doesn't take much to scare them away like little rats. As he turns back to you, you look back unafraid, if not a little excited.

"Why are you here? Do you pity me, is that it?" He asks with a bite to his voice.

"Yes."

"I– what? So you admit it?" He scoffs, is there a limit to your shamelessness? Is this a trait natural to the gods? "Unbelievable."

"I pity you, everything you went through, but that's not the reason why I'm here! Isn't it obvious?" You say, a wide grin beginning to form, "You're my absolute favorite!"

He freezes. What? Absolutely. . . favorite?

As if understanding his speechlessness, you continue on, "I've been wanting to meet you since the very first event– ahem, first time I saw you!"

"You truly are an odd one." He mumbles under his breath because why him? Why the one who was abandoned and used numerous times? He's merely a puppet without a heart.

An empty vessel.

"And why should I believe you?" He says unconvincingly, arms folded. He notices the little chatter behind the walls, those darn recruits are listening in.

"Why would I be here if you're not my favorite?" You quip back.

He scoffs, "I don't know, but there's certainly something wrong with you in the head. You're not exactly what I expected."

"If you were expecting a certain level of power, then I could still do that. I can give you gifts."

". . . gifts?" He tilts his head.

"Artifacts, weapons, talents— they're all for you since the very beginning anyway!"

Artifacts, weapons. . . power? He thinks. Truly, if you were such an ultimate being, you could provide him anything? As if pondering over it, he suddenly pauses.

Yes, indeed you could give him these things.

But why him?

Because of favorites?

How could he be favored when he was once thrown away.

". . . Can you give me a gnosis?" He says, voice uncharacteristically soft.

"Um. . . we'll work on that. Maybe on the later arcs."

[x] CHONGYUN

* Despite modern Liyue's sovereignty from gods, it's still a nation that values traditions and piety. It's natural that with your arrival, you only deserve the best!

* That included invites from some of the highest ranking nobles and guilds. It's no surprise that Xingqiu, the second son of the largest Commerce Guild, makes an appearance to greet you in the Jade Palace, his brother and parents already done with their turns.

* Xingqiu expected a lot from you, maybe discussions of the arts (or perhaps you're even interested in novels?). What he didn't expect was for you to ask such a random question.

"Oh Xingqiu! You're here! Ah– but where's Chongyun?"

He only pauses for a second. Chongyun may be the son of a longstanding exorcist clan, but they're not much to boast about in terms of influence or wealth. Chongyun is... well, Chongyun. His dear best friend.

"I apologize, I wasn't aware that you'd like to meet him as well. Chongyun should be. . . hmm around the harbor by now, perhaps." He stands straight from his bow, "We were planning on meeting after this, your Holiness, to look for haunted h— I mean, to stroll Wuwang Hill."

You already know what they're up to as you clasp your hands together.

"Excellent! I'll go with you!"

"Wait- what?"

* Oh poor Chongyun, he would be a frantic mess in disbelief. It was hard enough to believe that you suddenly went to Liyue, but to approach him of all people? Did you mistake him for someone else? Are you going to ask for directions? Did he do something wrong?

* The thoughts swirling around his head is enough to destabilize his yang energy as you helplessly reassure him that you're there because you want to meet him as soon as you could.

"Chongyun!" You rush up to him, arms wide in an embrace— the cryo allogene freezes in place, stares with his cat-like eyes in wonder because wait, wait, wait– is the one and only controller of this world approaching him for a hug?

"I- Wait, me?" He stutters, tumbling over his words as you smile. His arms are awkwardly raised, unsure if he should hug you back.

"Yes! I met Xingqiu a while back and was wondering why you weren't with him."

"You- you were looking for me?"

"Of course I have! I've always wanted to meet you in person like this!"

As you squeeze him in your arms, you feel him go limp as his face turns red in heat.

"Oh no! His yang energy!"

[x] ABYSS AETHER

Aether knew he was damned. The minute he resolved to see through everything till the end, despite everyone thinking otherwise, he knew no one would understand why he decided to do this.

Alone, is how he decided to do this. So he sits lonely on a throne in the nave of what seems to be a dark cathedral. The walls depicting menacing murals of an era where everything went wrong. The abyss mages that normally float in worship are no where to be seen, just the way he wanted it.

Until you appeared, the little soft patter of footsteps echoing down his aisle, the heavy doors moving back to reveal your underwhelming entrance. He sees you and he wonders if he expected you to come, to blame him or get angry because how could he stray so far from his oh-so-favored sister, Lumine.

Yet, you walk up to him with a look of what seems to be sorrow.

"Are you here to blame me?" He asks and his voice echoes against cavernous walls.

"Blame you? No. . ." You reply.

"Then do you pity me?"

"Aether, I just want to understand." You confidently say, finally by the foot of his throne. He doesn't feel comfortable looking down on you like this, not you, so he stands to approach your eye level.

"Shouldn't you already understand?" He questions, curious.

"I— don't. . . I don't know everything there is to this world."

Aether frowns. Maybe because he was hoping that you of all people -mortal or god- would understand why he's doing this.

"That isn't my problem. There are bigger things for me to think about." He turns away and just before he could take the first step;

"I don't know everything about this world but if it's you– then I want to understand. I'm sure you have your reasons. I trust you more than anything."

He pauses, face in wonder, because how could you trust someone so blindly?

With an exhale and a decision made, he turns to you, "Then follow me. If you want to understand why, then stay with me."

"Okay."

[x] RAZOR

It was a classic welcome— arriving in Mondstadt, touring around the city, greeting the characters you've always wanted to meet. Despite their initial formalities and decorum, you've managed to tone down the professionalism and started to treat each other as friends.

That didn't mean they weren't very open to the idea of you meeting the less. . . civil of the bunch.

"I'd like to visit Wolvendom." You tell the small group. It's another day in the city, enjoying drinks by the taverns under the sun. Lucky for you, the Cavalry Captain and the Outrider have their time off to enjoy with you.

"Oh? Is there a reason why?" Kaeya leans back, head tilted.

"To be honest. . . I wanted to visit Razor. I'm sure you know him!"

Truth be told, you just wanted to meet a certain good wolf cub hidden in the woods. While everyone has went out of their way to meet you, Razor kept to himself in Wolvendom. Perhaps he was too intimidated by the crowds pouring into Mondstadt, or maybe he just wasn't familiar about you, but Razor was nowhere to be seen since your arrival.

". . . Razor?" Kaeya says hesitantly, "Hmm while I have no problem with you going to Wolvendom to meet him, there is another issue. . ."

"What issue?"

"The knights decided not to let you meet Razor," Amber quips in, "I mean– It's not that there's anything bad about him, it's just that he hasn't learned his manners yet. We thought it might be disrespectful if he met you so soon."

"Disrespectful?" You voice out in shock.

"Of course we know that you're not strict about that now! But I guess we never clarified the situation with Razor. . "

You huff, standing up tall with new resolve, "That's it! We're going out to find Razor and give him the biggest hug ever!"

"We are?" They echo back in unison.

"Yes we are!" You hook both your arms around theirs, dragging them out the gates of Mondstadt.

ko-fi support || general m.list

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flanaganfilm · 1 year

Note

Hello and Howdy Mr. Mike Flanagan! I'm excited to see you here on our humble hellsite. I have so much to say and ask about your netflix shows but for the moment, I want to ask about Doctor Sleep because I enjoyed that movie immensely - it filled me with a pleasant sense of dread, which possibly makes no sense, or a lot of sense.

What was that creative process like? Reconciling book and movie canons, following Kubrick's legacy, working with Ewan and Rebecca and Zahn and everyone else. I'm obsessed with King adaptations and I'm just fascinated with Doctor Sleep.

Alright! Buckle up for yet another long read.

Thank you for your question, and for this opportunity to go back and talk about DOCTOR SLEEP. It's a very special film to me, and a very special time in my life as well.

It all started with a general meeting with Jon Berg at Warner Bros.

The meeting itself started pretty wild - Adrien Brody walked out of the office as I was waiting to go in. Jon introduced us and we chatted for a few minutes, and I was a little out of whack for the rest of the meeting because I had a very potent "wow that was Adrien Brody" buzz going.

We were meant to talk about DC Comics and see if there was anything to do there. I was really hoping to chat about a horror-slanted Clayface movie, and about my favorite superhero: Superman.

Neither conversation went very far. I had just finished GERALD'S GAME, and Jon was a King fan, so he asked about the production. And then he asked if I'd ever read Warners' script for DOCTOR SLEEP.

I had. In fact, I had tried very hard to get a meeting at the studio when the book was first published. Warners owned the rights to DOCTOR SLEEP outright - it was part of their deal going all the way back to THE SHINING - so they immediately began looking into movie options when the book was published. Akiva Goldsman had written a script, and it was one of the first projects I asked about when I signed with WME as a client years before. "That isn't going anywhere," they told me. "I don't think that movie gets made."

They had tried to get me the meeting anyway, but no one at Warners responded. I never got in the room.

But now, here I was. What did I have to lose at this point?

"I did read it," I said. "I'd take a different approach." Jon sat back and smiled. "I love the book, Rose is one of the great villains of all time," he said. I agreed. He probed. "What's wrong with the script?"

"I don't think it follows the book closely enough."

"What would you do?"

"I'd do the book. Streamline it, combine some characters, and you'd have to rethink the True Knot a bit. But otherwise, just do the book. As long as it's a three-hander between Danny, Abra and Rose it'll work. With one big asterisk."

"What's that?"

"I think you have to bring back the hotel. Kubrick's hotel, I mean."

Jon smiled wider. "Yeah, it's a bummer the hotel burned down. King goes out of his way at the start of the book to emphasize that - no Overlook, look no further."

This was my biggest gripe with the book.

I said "When I read the book, all I could see was Kubrick's hotel. I think you do the book as close as you possibly can, until the big fight at the end. Instead of it taking place in an empty field, let it be in the hotel."

Jon: "Do you think King will be upset if you change his ending? You know how feels about THE SHINING, right?"

Me: "What if we gave him THAT ending? What if we let Danny have Jack's ending? Jack sacrificed himself to save his family and destroy the Overlook - why not let Danny do that? Change the ending, sure, but give him the ending Kubrick denied him."

We shook hands, and I called my producing partner Trevor Macy to tell him it was a good general, but nothing was coming out of my DC meeting. By the time I'd made it back to my car, though, Jon had reached out to Stephen King and asked if he'd be interested in me taking a swing at it. Steve, who had enjoyed GERALD'S GAME, said yes.

I was immediately petrified when the call came in that they might want to engage me on a rewrite of DOCTOR SLEEP, with a directorial attachment. I'd have to rewrite the script from scratch, and I kind of felt like they were calling my bluff. But the deal was made and quite suddenly I was adapting DOCTOR SLEEP.

First order of business was to make King aware of what I intended to do. I had just established a tentative relationship with my hero over GERALD'S GAME, and the last thing - the very last thing in the world I ever wanted - was to upset him. We weren't in direct communication, we spoke through agents and emails at this point - but I had to make him aware of the Overlook thing.

I put together a proposal that outlined what I wanted to do - use Kubrick's visual language, and keep the Overlook standing as a setting for the final battle. The initial feedback we got was "no." King really, really didn't like Kubrick's film, and his priority was to adapt DOCTOR SLEEP - not to revisit THE SHINING.

I told him that if he didn't want me to do it, I wouldn't - I'd walk away from the movie before I made something he hated. But as a last ditch effort, I said "imagine the Overlook, decrepit and rotten. And imagine Dan Torrance having walk in to 'wake it up,' the lights coming on above his head as he walks the halls. He finds his way to the Gold Room. To the familiar bar, where an empty glass is waiting for him. And we see a familiar bartender ready to pour for him, saying 'good evening Mister Torrance.' What if that bartender is his father?"

After a bit of a delay, King got back to us. "Do it," he said.

Writing the script was tough. I immediately felt like I had stepped into a very unsafe space. "This is going to piss everybody off," I figured. Kubrick fans would be livid that the movie was being made. King fans might be angry that Kubrick's imagery was being homaged. There was no way to please everyone, so I set about writing the movie I wanted to see most.

It was a slightly nauseous feeling that would stay with me until the movie came out.

I sat down to write with a hardcover copy of DOCTOR SLEEP to my right, and a hardcover copy of THE SHINING to my left. I read both cover to cover, sticking post-its throughout the pages with ideas, or flagging lines of dialogue (or even prose) that I wanted to protect. I managed to put together a basic outline for the movie, which was intimidating and sprawling.

I finally finished the draft and sent it off to Warner Bros. and King at the same time. I was shooting THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE at the time, and thought it would take a long while and a few more iterations before SLEEP would go anywhere, if it ever did.

Warner Bros. shocked us all by coming back with a green light. I've been told that it was one of the fastest green lights in the recent history of the studio, and I believe it.

It happened so fast, in fact, that Steve hadn't read the script yet. I got an email from him on a Friday saying "I read the first half, and I absolutely love it - my son's getting married, so I'll pick it up in a week or so and finish it, but great so far!" I was nauseous... because I knew everything that King was likely to hate was in the second half.

When he finally did finish reading it, about a week later, he reached out and said:

"I think it's really good. In my experience, this is the kind of script studios don't make, because it's TOO good. Hopefully I'm wrong. But no matter how it turns out, thanks for treating me so well. - Steve"

I had the distinct pleasure of being able to write him back and tell him that Warner Bros. had just greenlit the movie. And we were off to the races.

The pressure was enormous. They were spending a lot of money on this movie, and because of the insane box office success of IT: CHAPTER ONE, expectations were very high.

We were given access to Kubrick's blueprints for the Overlook hotel set, which were still held at Warner Bros. While we set about rebuilding the sets, our attention turned to casting.

For Dan, we met with a handful of actors: Dan Stevens, Chris Evans, Matt Smith, and Jeremy Renner all came in to chat about the movie. But Ewan McGregor, who himself was eight years sober (just like Dan), was the obvious choice. "Let's not talk about the Shining yet," he said. "I want to talk about recovery." He was the guy.

For Rose the Hat, we talked with several actresses, including Anne Hathaway, Nicole Kidman, and my dear friend Karen Gillan - but Rebecca Ferguson knocked our socks off on a 90-minute zoom meeting, and the part was hers.

Finding Abra Stone was more difficult - we auditioned more than 900 girls for the part. We'd narrowed it down to a half-dozen very promising and successful young actresses, including Lulu Wilson (who I'd worked with several times before and adore), but Kyliegh Curran's self-tape audition rose to the very top of the pile. Ewan flew to Atlanta to read with our final picks, and when Kyliegh - who lived 15 minutes from our office, was local casting, and had never booked a job before - finished reading, he turned to us and said "I mean it's her, right?" It absolutely was.

When we cast her, we invited her back to the office after school one day to get oriented. The crew was so excited for her that they decorated the production office in her honor.

As the rest of the cast fell in, we started doing our camera tests and getting excited about what we were putting together. My feeling over overwhelming nausea only got stronger.

We started shooting in September of 2018. The shoot was long, but never exhausting. The cast and crew were uniformly pleasant and happy to be there, and after the soul-crushing slog that had been THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE, it was a relief to enjoy working again.

Kate was pregnant with our daughter Theo at the time. She visited as much as she could, but finally couldn't travel any more. Being away from Kate and our son Cody was hard, but I'm so grateful that we got to share some time on set together.

All things considered, this was a smooth shoot. But something happened for me while we were making it that would change the course of my life forever.

See, THE SHINING is about alcoholism. King wrote it while in the throes of his own addiction, and it is a novel about the anxiety he felt about what he could potentially do to his family if left unchecked. It's one of the reasons he was so upset with Kubrick's adaptation - all of that was taken away. This is a profoundly personal story for King.

When he wrote DOCTOR SLEEP, he was decades sober. The story of DOCTOR SLEEP is the story of recovery. This was something that Ewan knew very well, and why he was perfect for the part. He knew what the journey felt like. He wasn't alone - there were a number of cast and crew members on this shoot that were sober. In fact, just about all of the actors who played main characters were sober. I was still drinking at the time, though it had already become obviously problematic in my life, I hadn't taken any meaningful steps to change it.

This photograph was taken on 10/12/2018. This was taken on the day I got sober. I quit cold turkey, in the middle of production. I was clinging to vices at the time. Note not only the cigarette in my hand (I was smoking almost 2 packs a day), but the ash tray that had been rigged to the top of my viewfinder by the camera department. (I don't smoke anymore either, just about four years without cigs as well... and I still miss them.)

I had been writing about addiction for a decade. It was all over my work, going all the way back to ABSENTIA. I didn't realize just how much I was writing about myself, and I still can't believe it took me this long.

I vividly recall writing the scene between Dan and Jack at the bar. My wife pointed out to me after the fact that she could see it then, that something was changing in me when it came to drinking. Something was waking up, and I was processing a desperate need to sober up. That scene represents an internal conversation that is profoundly personal to me. It's still my favorite scene of the movie.

I've been sober now for over 4 years. DOCTOR SLEEP helped me finally make that decision. I finished the shoot sober, and came home to my life with a lot of uncertainty and insecurity. But with the unflinching support of my incredible wife, and some amazing friends, my life started to really blossom. It was pretty immediately evident that this was one of the best decisions I'll ever make.

Meanwhile, though, I had to finish DOCTOR SLEEP.

I LOVED the movie we'd made, but I was still terrified of what King would think of it - not to mention Kubrick's estate.

When we finished the cut, I flew to Bangor to screen the finished film for Steve. It was the first I'd meet him in person, and one of the most insanely exciting and humbling days of my life.

We watched the movie together, and I was acutely aware of each and every little reaction he had throughout.

(With Trevor Macy, my producing partner at Intrepid)

When the show as over, Steve turned to me and said "You did a beautiful job." And ultimately, he added that this film had made him warm up to the Kubrick movie as well.

A week later, we heard from Kubrick's estate that they had also loved the movie.

With King's blessing, and Kubrick's family, I felt that nausea finally subside. I said to Kate, "that's it. That's all that matters. Doesn't matter if the movie crashes and burns - we already won the important battle."

And then, the movie crashed and burned.

A group of us went to see it opening night at Arclight Hollywood (my favorite theater). We were just about the only people there. And I knew immediately that we were going to have a bad weekend.

The movie didn't perform very well. Warner Bros. was disappointed, and ended up scrapping the Dick Hallorann movie we were planning, as well as the Overlook Hotel prequel.

I was pretty crest-fallen. I'd spent years tossing and turning over whether audiences would be divided between the King and Kubrick camps. I'd been petrified that they'd be furious, venomous, run me out on a rail... I'd never considered that they'd be utterly disinterested. Apathy wasn't even on my radar.

Steve called me the Monday after opening weekend with some words of encouragement. "I remember when THE SHINING bombed," he said. "And SHAWSHANK. Give it some time. It'll find its audience. It's a really good movie."

That has turned out to be true. While it didn't set the world on fire theatrically, the movie has over-performed on VOD and streaming. And when Warner Bros. released the Directors Cut (I'm still so grateful that they did that), it popped even more.

So yes, to answer your question - the pressures were enormous. I hope this paints a little picture of what it was like. The biggest gift I got out of it, though, was sobriety.

I reached out to King a year later, on my first sober birthday. I hadn't told him I was sober, but it felt like time to do it. I got to thank him. "I never told you this, but I sobered up while we were shooting DOCTOR SLEEP, and I don't think I would have done it without your words. Living in that story, and marinading in the concepts of recovery and redemption made it possible. I just want to thank you."

He wrote back his congratulations, and then mentioned "as it happens, I'm off to celebrate 30 years myself. It only gets better and better."

And he is absolutely right.

DOCTOR SLEEP was the perfect project for me after the nightmare that was HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE. I fell in love with making movies again. And I found a new and wonderful gear for my life. It has only made everything better - my marriage, my work, my experience walking around on planet earth. I'm so grateful for it.

When I think of DOCTOR SLEEP, I think of Ewan sitting at the bar and looking at the glass in his hand. "Man takes a drink, drink takes a drink... and then the drink takes the man. Ain't it so, dad."

Ewan understood those words better than I did when I typed them into the script. I understand them much better now.

There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not profoundly grateful for my time at the Overlook. And for myriad of ways my life has been changed because of it.

#doctor sleep #sobriety #behind the scenes #behind the scene photo #ewan mcgregor #stephen king #rebecca ferguson #grateful #warner bros #the shining #featured

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hualianisms · 5 months

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Not father & son, not master & disciple, but a secret third thing

First of all, let me preface this by being clear that everyone is free to headcanon anything they want and like/dislike anything they like/dislike! That being said, sometimes I see international fans interpret FDB as LLH's son, or their dynamic as parent-child or otherwise familial, and as a native chinese speaker, I just wanted to share some reasons why I personally did not interpret them as familial.

Granted, at the start of the show, FDB is kept in the dark and also not up to LLH's level of skill in solving cases. However, FDB quickly catches up in crime-solving skills, intellect and maturity by the 2nd half of the show, after a well-written growth arc. I think the beauty of the characters and relationships in this show is that they grow & evolve, and are meant to do so. The dynamic that LLH & FDB had in episode 1 is quite different from their dynamic at the end of the show. By the later episodes, they are 2 adults who are very much equals.

Why I don't read them as father & son:

LLH & FDB act and speak in a manner that is far too informal & familiar with one another, which would be extremely inappropriate for any kind of parent & child, even a surrogate one. Several times, FDB calls LLH by just his first name "Lianhua", and sometimes even calls him "Damn Lianhua" when he is angry/upset at LLH. This would be extremely rude for a disciple to call a master, or a son to call a father. No son talks to his father the way FDB talks to LLH, and no disciple talks to their master like that. Unless the son/disciple hates the father/master, and is outright rejecting his father/master altogether. As we see in the show, not only does FDB not hate LLH at all, he instead cares deeply for LLH and would do anything to save him. Why, then would someone scold/curse someone they care about? Does the trope of the upset spouse/partner sound familiar?

For comparison, see FDB's interactions with He Xiaohui, who he is close to - he is informal & affectionate with her, but never calls her anything other than "娘 niang" ("mother"). I can't emphasize enough how taboo it is in Chinese culture to ever call your parent or parental figure by their name under any circumstance.

2. In ep 31, FDB himself explicitly rejects the idea of LLH as his shifu and himself as LLH's disciple, responding that he is too old to be LLH's disciple and it was merely a joke. He clearly sees LLH as an equal, and rejects the notion of their relationship being anything other than that of 2 adult equals. LLH also tells his shiniang that FDB is not his disciple, and a few episodes ago LLH told FDB that he has never understimated FDB.

Coding/hints as something other than platonic:

Zhiji/zhijiao - FDB calls LLH his 知交 zhijiao in ep 19, and 知己 zhiji in ep 34. "In this life, I, Fang Duobing, recognize you as my only zhiji." is practically a love declaration. And this bond is reciprocated by LLH, bc in a deleted line in ep 19, translated by forayuarchive on twitter, LLH is the one who first calls FDB his zhijiao.

To clarify, Zhiji is not specifically a romantic term, but it's what was used in both The Untamed and Word of Honor - both dramas based on danmei novels with canon gay main pairings - to bypass censorship, to code the bond between the main duo as deeper than your typical platonic male friendship. (See this post for a detailed explanation of the significance/history behind the term zhiji, and see this twitter thread for an explanation of the meaning of zhijiao in MLC - especially how zhijiao is specifically mutual, reciprocated).

2. Married bickering - forayuarchive on twitter has discussed in these twitter threads how the tone of many of LLH & FDB's interactions (especially FDB) is similar to how married couples or romantic partners speak to one another bc of the level of familiarity, tone and language. For my fav example, see this note (translation by forayuarchive) that FDB left LLH in ep 35, which reads pretty much like a note that a spouse/partner might write when leaving their shared house in a hurry.

3. "Xiaobao" - Personally as a native Chinese speaker, LLH calling FDB "xiaobao" in front of everyone is a level of intimacy that genuinely would make me feel embarrassed to hear as a third party. 小宝 xiao bao (literal meaning = "little treasure") is usually something you call actual babies/children AND is FDB's family nickname for him, so if you're calling a grown man that in front of everyone including his colleagues, family and even strangers, then one might assume he is likely either your biological family or your romantic partner. (For comparison, just imagine calling your s/o their parent's special childhood nickname for them at work.)

4. Deleted lines where FDB calls LLH "xiaohua'er". 小花儿 Xiaohua'er ("little flower") is very intimate and feels like something someone might call a lover. Or, at least, definitely not a platonic shifu, even less so a parental figure. (For meta on the names that LLH & FDB use for one another, see forayuarchive's twitter thread.)

5. More deleted scenes (translated by forayuarchive on twitter), perhaps cut due to censorship, which make apparent LLH's high regard and deep care for FDB. For e.g., a line of internal monologue by LLH in ep 40, translated here by forhenjun, shows that LLH thinks of FDB as the only person in his two lifetimes who has always treated him as a human being rather than putting him on an unfair pedestal.

6. Official MLC accounts act like as if they ship them.

As murderedbyhomework mentioned, there is a song in the official soundtrack of MLC called "Fanghua's Day-to-Day Life" (yes, the exact same words as their ship name). Sounds like a couple's daily domestic life, doesn't it?

The official iQiYi Romance youtube channel lists clips of LLH & FDB under the romance category.

The official MLC douyin account posts MVs with emotional captions (e.g. this one translated here by forayuarchive) that emphasize how much both LLH and FDB mean to one another. Another official MLC douyin calls LLH & FDB the person each other trusts the most.

The MLC clips posted by the official Guangdong TV weibo account also has captions such as these (translated by rice_jpg) that straight up describe FDB's feelings towards LLH as "when you like someone" (very similar CN phrasing as the phrasing used to describe romantic crushes).

7. They are subtly paralleled with a canon straight romantic couple (see fanqxiaobao's twitter thread on the parallels btwn LXY/QWM scenes and certain LLH/FDB scenes). MLC also made a distinct change from the novel by not having FDB get married to Princess Zhaoling, even though the drama could have easily given FDB a romance with her.

8. If you're familiar with chinese romantic tropes or the danmei genre, LLH & FDB fit many common romantic tropes e.g. sharing a drink on the rooftop under the moonlight, forgotten first meeting in childhood (and then meeting again properly as adults), power couple fighting side by side (they even held hands!), nianxia, protective younger ml, sickly older mc - just to name a few. Danmei even has many stories of shizun/shifu & disciple pairings who fall in love as adult equals.

There's honestly lots more but these are just some off the top of my head. Again everyone is free to interpret anything! This is just me explaining why as a native chinese speaker I personally did not read their dynamic as that of a father and son.

#莲花楼 #mysterious lotus casebook #li lianhua #fang duobing #fanghua #mlc meta #ik i alr made a post abt this but i just wanted to compile everything tgth in one post for my own ref too #full credit to the ops of the sources linked for the translations and meta!!#let me be very clear this is not me telling anyone to ship fanghua!! everyone is free to do/not do whatever they want; fandom is free #and to clarify this is not against feihua/ot3 at all; i multiship too #this post is solely about the 'fdb is llh's son' take #just explaining why shipping them is a valid interpretation given certain nuances in their portrayal

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lotus-pear · 23 days

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Can we stop acting like dazai was the devil. Like yes he did bad things but he was a child. He was 15 alone and in the mafia where althe was told to do was bad things. ALL dazai knew how to do is lie and deceive because it what he's always had to do.it's self preservation. Like??? When will people realize dazai wasn't a monster and was justa child brought up in an Unsafe and abusive environment. Behaviors are learned your aren't born with them. Dazai was a suicidal child just trying to survive all'he knew was manipulation and Iying because that's all he was taught. He abused akutagawa because that's all he was taught. And as he got older it's all he knows how to do. Obviously he's gotten better but he's still morally grey. And that's ok but it's not enough to call him a monster. hes trying so so hard to change, and even if he may not realise it or cling guiltily to his past, the entire prison arc shows how much effort hes put in to become a better person it isnt easy, growing up exposed to death/violence resulting in empathy and apathy issues, all while battling an emptiness inside thats slowly eating up ones will to live. hes genuinely trying to recover from that period of his life, and i cannot express how proud i am solely because of that. hes finally found a healthy environment, a family, and he deserves it along with so much more. he may be deemed as a “monster“ in the past, that cannot be erased, but he hates that part about himself too. being in the good or bad used to make no difference to him, but i strongly believe it does hate that part of him. Dazai slander are fún and everything - BUT people seem to not get his character right. No, he's not an edgy boy. He genuinely wants to change for the best to make Oda proud, 'BUT HE ABUSED AKUTAGAWA’ , yeah, Akutagawa abused Kyoka and nobody is talking about how its litterally GENERATIONAL TRAUMA. Dazal was never raised correctly, he got raised by Mori and used by him to make him his right hand, maybe because of his ability, or he saw potential in him. He never fell parental Love nor being special to Someone except for Oda. "He LEFT Chuuya!!!“ ok and? Chuuya doesn't need him to live: Dazai LITTERALLY SAW PEOPLE GETTING KILLED/KILLING THEM ON THE DAILEY (AND HE WITNISSED ODAS DEATH - THE ONLY PERSON THAT MADE HIM WANT TO CHANGE.) his eyes at the age of 14, and Mori made him live in a shipping container. Obviously he is not gonna feel human after all this.

And about him and chuuya - the thing is they DO CARE ABOUT EACHOTHER. but nobody seems to care about chuuya other than the fact hes hot asf anf the fact that he is ’super mega gay for dazai 🥺🥺🥺’ because are we reading/watching the same series???? There’s SO MUCH to his character too!!!! But all everyone talks about with him is with dazai, chuuyas character is CRAZY WELL WRITTEN and everyone dumbs it down to ‘he’s an angry short boy with a god inside him and he’s mega gay for dazai and he’s also really hot’ like no - stfu he’s not actually super hot headed and it’s CANNON he’s usually pretty calm and collected. On the other side of the coin is that dazai DOES care about him - in Stormbringer ; Dazai literally willing gave Chuuya an option to either use corruption on Verlaine when he used his true form or to retreat and not do it, which gave a sense of Dazai giving Chuuya the choice to do what he wants without forcing him to, and the fact that when Chuuya used corruption, he was being injured badly to the point where Abahabaki was going to destroy Chuuya which FREAKED DAZAI OUT , and the fact that Dazai certainly believes that Chuuya is human shows that Dazai does care about Chuuya in certain ways without showing due to afraid of losing someone he cares about. and In age 15 Dazai, was willing to help Chuuya to find Abahabaki and defeat Rimbaud, along with stormbringer with him helping Chuuya to find out if he's human or not and to defeat Verlaine.

Ty for reading my rant 💞💞💞💞

i can't tell if this is attacking me or just a rant in general but anyway YESSSSS I 100% AGREE YOU ATE W THAT ANALYSIS BRIAR‼️‼️

#everybody who mischaracterizes dazai over the stupidest shit read this Right Now #lotus’s asks

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qc-wiggles · 6 months

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they say write what you know and what i know is academic stress and yearbook pain. so anyways it's a yearbook club au!!!!

YEARBOOK CLUB MEMBERS:

supervising teachers: gertrude and leitner. they become uncontactable like a week into the project (do they die? do they resign? tim has a running theory that they eloped.)

elias: head of yearbook club. dips unexpectedly in the middle of the entire thing (something about an optical surgery) and forces jon to take over. his dad paid for the adobe subscription they’re using

rosie: treasurer, she’s very efficient, they’ve probably exchanged like 3 emails in total and she’s gotten everything funded. knows well enough to stay out of the dumpster fire that is yearbook production otherwise

jon: de facto head of yearbook club. thinks it should have gone to sasha instead. hes a bit incompetent but plans like it’s doomsday the next week so they are always in a wealth of excel sheets. writer, editor

tim: joined partly because he wanted an excuse to get out of football fixtures. also because he is 1 out of jons 3 friends including his ex and jon asked him. he has a tiktok. marketing, editor

sasha: joined partly to impress gertrude (she’s looking for her to write her letter of recommendation as head girl in sixth form). also because she is 1 out of jons 3 friends including his ex and jon asked her. she still uses livejournal. designer, writer

gerry: sixth form, occasionally helps out with networking at gertrude’s behest. tim is a bit starstruck over him. he saves their asses many, many times

melanie and georgie: got unofficially roped in as photographers. why you ask? manuela dominguez may have the cutting edge cameras but she is simply too scary to approach. melanie has a youtube channel that all the girls and tim are apparently subscribed to.

martin: there is not one single picture of him. apparently he didn’t turn up for photo day, neither was he involved in any school events. even the people who have shared half-remembered facts about him seem to forget about him when questioned a second time. where did he go?

PLOT:

it’s the month before the yearbook is due to be sent in for production, and the team have discovered numerous issues with the draft: pictures of random people keep getting swapped over like they’ve been photoshopped, some pages are illegible and distorted unless they are physically written out in hand and scanned, one paragraph is a leitner. and nobody can find martin blackwood so they can get his picture in the yearbook. what will they do.

SIDE CHARACTERS:

annabelle cane: current head girl

mikaele salesa: somehow knows literally everyone, involved in the funding of yearbook production

mike crew: uneasy alliance with gerry in their pursuit of jurgen leitner

oliver banks: had a mental breakdown sometime during his gcses but hes fine now

david from research: nobody says it to his face but he has genuinely the most atrocious clothing choice in the entire school apart from michael shelley, and even then michael shelley makes work

grifter’s bone: the band of the school, except no one actually knows anyone who’s part of it. their shows are legendarily terrible. manuela says ambulances were phoned.

daisy and basira: prefects, currently invested in making sure yearbook club remains LEGAL and not STALKING ANY STAFF OR STUDENTS, JON

jmag: principal. boo. what a creep

julia montauk: apparently her dad went to jail. but who is she living with now? i don’t know, manuela told me. how does manuela know? julia told her in a sleepover during year 6. and she’s telling other people? wow. that’s messed up. is that old guy her grandpa? why does he carry a rifle around

jared hopworth: prejudiced gymbro, but importantly, NOT a homophobe.

the admiral: what else needs to be said

FAMOUS ALUMNI:

agnes montague (campus celebrity from literally decades ago) (her relationship with jack barnabas is mythicised)

jude perry (allegedly caused some fire-related, agnes-related events)

edwin burroughs (allegedly commited atrocities during one year’s christmas dinner)

jane prentiss (left for uni a year ago, allegedly brought many live organisms onto campus) (keeps talking about this guy called jordan)

eric delano (he did WHAT to his eyes)

MISCELLANEOUS POINTS:

daedalus crew is astronomy club

breekon and hope are the manufacturers for much of the schools equipment and stationery

jon keeps finding notes from gertrude stashed in random places about yearbook difficulties its like a fun cool treasure hunt

they cant figure out where a computer they were initially using for yearbook club is from. it says ‘ushanka’ on the bottom of the display and the keys are slightly crusty

what the hell are the drama students actually up to

#changing this later probably #talks #school au

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wardenparker · 2 months

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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 5

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12.2k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story* Flirting, probably incorrect White House descriptions, this is almost definitely not how receiving lines actually work, celebrity chef cameo, the tension is building. Summary: Marcus pulls out all the stops at the State dinner, and June accidentally spills the beans. Notes: I unapologetically love this chapter. The State dinner is straight out of An American President and we even have a West Wing character sighting as well!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4

If Sydney hadn't gone and called in that favor with one of the stylists she knows, you sincerely doubt that you would have been ready for the dinner in any way, shape, or form. The gown, the jewelry, the shoes — all of it is lovely and sumptuous in a way you think you'll never get used to, but you will be sending this particular stylist an enormous thank you gift from the local chocolatier for all the wonderful work she did on you. Despite the help, though, you're feeling remarkably nervous as you pace around your apartment waiting for enough time to pass that you can actually leave to pick up Marcus.

It almost feels wrong being picked up by you for the State dinner. He understands that it’s not a date, just a friend doing another friend a favor, but he was raised as a gentleman. He was taught to show up to the door of a lady’s house, escort them and show them a good time and then deposit them back onto their doorstep safely.

It's a sleek, black car that shows up in front of his apartment building. Nondescript in that way that reads definitely government issued but also not important enough to follow, and of course that is deliberate. It isn't your car. No, he's seen your little blue sedan several times already. He wouldn't even know it was you if he hadn't gotten your text and spied Agent Bailey in the passenger seat. When his buzzer goes off a second later, it's distinctly your voice on the other end.

“I’ll be down in two seconds.” Marcus promises, grabbing the small brooch he had seen when he was at an antique store running down a lead on a case. While it might not be protocol to give you a brooch, he felt like it was more appropriate than flowers for the occasion.

"You might want to let me up!" You counter, quickly before he walks away from the speaker. "I have something for you."

“Oh, uh, sure.” Marcus flushes even though you can’t see him and hits the buzzer to unlock the security door.

In what feels like just a few seconds, you rocket upstairs in your full gown and best peacoat. It wards off the February chill nicely and has pockets deep enough for your best gloves without crushing them. The little white cardboard box clutched in your hand was retrieved this morning, and you hope he appreciates the small, albeit grateful gesture.

Marcus checks his reflection in the mirror next to the door and opens it quickly. He isn’t sure if you know what apartment he is in and he doesn’t want to leave you guessing.

"Hey." He looks devastating the second he opens his front door, dapper and clean cut in his tuxedo with what looks like a fresh haircut to boot. There is a little less guilt when your stomach flips at the sight of him and you feel a flutter in your chest, but you tell yourself that it's just nerves for the night to come. "Please accept my heartfelt thanks for tonight, in the form of the best muffin you will ever eat," you offer, holding out the bakery box and hoping he hasn't forgotten your little bet.

He tilts his head in confusion for a moment before a slow smile breaks across his face. “We’ll have to see about that.” He vows as he takes the box as gently as it if were a priceless work of art. “You can’t eat mine, but I also picked up a gift for you.” He explains as he sets the box down and picks up the antique velvet box. “I was in this little antique store on Tuesday, and as soon as I saw this, I knew it was made for you.”

"You really didn't have to." Even standing there in the entryway of his little DuPont Circle apartment, the heat in your cheeks spreads all the way down your neck and shoulders instantly. Carefully cracking open the velvet box reveals a stunning circular brooch with the Presidential seal set in gold in the center, surrounded by small but stunning stones that shine either clear or light blue when you turn them to hit the light from different angles. "Marcus, it's stunning."

“I thought it was perfect for tonight.” He explains, overjoyed that you like it. He had talked himself out of giving it to you three different times but then thought that it would be rude not to give you something as thanks for allowing him to take part in such a historic occasion.

"I wish I could wear it tonight." Apologetically, you pluck at your burgundy-colored skirt where it sticks out under the bottom of your coat. The soft blue and deep purple-red would clash entirely. "I'll have to make sure I pick the next dress specifically to match it."

“No, I didn’t expect you to wear it.” Marcus hastily corrects. “I just thought it was appropriate for the occasion.”

"It's wonderful." Though it doesn't keep you from wishing you could, and you slip the jewelry case into your jacket pocket for safe keeping. "Thank you. For the perfect gift and for being my lifesaver tonight."

“I don’t think escorting you to the State dinner is anything like lifesaving.” Marcus jokes. “But I’m here for you.”

"Are you ready to go?" You won't debate with him all the ways that he has very definitely saved your skin from an enormous amount of worry and explanation. Just as long as he knows that you're grateful, that is all that matters.

“Absolutely.” The key fob in his pocket is simply to get into the door and he has left his gun locked in his safe, but his badge is in his breast pocket. He holds out his arm. “Shall we?”

"No time like the present." The offer of his arm is elegant and old fashioned, and the two of you step into the elevator together. Agent Bailey is there waiting, of course, and ushers you back into the car to make sure you get to the White House on time.

Marcus nods politely to the Secret Service agent. “Agent Bailey, nice to see you again.” He murmurs, aware that the woman is working and cannot spend too much time chatting with him.

"Special Agent Pike." She nods back, the acknowledgement appreciated as much as the professionalism. The car that the President sent came complete with a chauffeur so she at least does not have to split her focus between driving and protecting. "We're right on schedule," she tells you both, once everyone is back in the car — then promptly raises the privacy barrier in the sleek town car.

“Well.” Marcus chuckles at the gesture and looks over at you. “We’ve been dismissed.” He jokes and adjusts in the seat slightly so he can talk to you and not crease his jacket. “Should I be offended?”

"Not at all." Although you can see how someone else might think so. "I think she's nervous. The first State dinner is a big deal. We're all a little nervous."

“Everything will be great.” He assures you, resisting the urge to take your hand and squeeze it. “I understand it’s a large undertaking, but security will be on top of their game and everything will move like a perfectly trained team winning a World Series.”

The baseball metaphor makes you smile, and you carefully buckle yourself in just before the car pulls out into traffic. "I think the kinks in the system they're worried about are me and my siblings," you admit ruefully. "Just because we were good on the campaign trail and for the inauguration doesn't mean we will be now, so they're just waiting to see if we all behave."

“I think that you and your siblings want nothing more than to make your mother proud and that is a reflection of her through you.” He observes, having listened to your stories about your brother and sister.

"You have far too much faith in my brother." The small laugh from your lips as you sit back is pure amusement, but he's right. None of you would ever do anything to interrupt so an important night. "Maybe if there wasn't royalty coming tonight. Because Alex is an agent of chaos, but only the good-natured kind."

“What young man isn’t?” Marcus snorts.

"His partner." You chuckle slightly, knowing how calm and collected your brother's boyfriend is by comparison. "Alex isn't out publicly. But he's known his soulmate since they were kids, and David just goes everywhere with him as his inseparable best friend. He'll be at the dinner tonight, too."

“It’s good that he can be with him tonight.” Marcus nods, not even having to say that your brother’s secret is safe with him. He wouldn’t dream of misusing that information.

"David's a sweetheart." He's good for Alex, and an active member of the family just like Sydney is. They were essentially adopted into the fold very early on. "He's going through law school with Alex at Georgetown. Family law, like adoption cases and child welfare. And I really think he's going to be a great lawyer." It's easy with Marcus, you reflect again, watching the streets of DC pass by the window beyond his profile. These are things that you hadn't even told Sam until a month or more into the relationship as you had been very careful about guarding your family's secrets at any cost. With Marcus you just seem to...open up.

“That’s great.” Marcus agrees. “I have a lot of respect for the good lawyers that are trying to make a difference in the world.” Marcus has met a lot of lawyers over his career and he can tell a difference in the ones that are genuinely there for the law and people’s rights and ones that aren’t very scrupulous.

"Then you and David should get along swimmingly." Feeling the nerves in your belly as the car pulls through the busy city streets, you offer him a warm but thin smile. "Sorry if I'm talking a lot," you offer. "That's my way of being nervous."

“Nothing wrong with that.” He assures you. “You talk out all your anxiety and I will listen.” He bites his lip and again is wondering why he has such a strong urge to comfort you and hold you close while you babble.

"Watch out." There's a softness in the way you smile so reflexively that you just sink into it, wishing you could reach for his hand. "Or I just might invite you to more of these things if you're going to be such good company."

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Oh no.” He snorts. “I would hate to be invited to amazingly historical events as a bystander and not work.”

"We'll see how little work you think it is when my family has gotten used to you and you start getting tapped into family debates." You snort right along with him, knowing that if he does come around your family often enough — an idea that you somehow don't hate even one single bit — it will happen fairly quickly. Nobody adopts their kids' friends quite like your parents do, and nobody likes debating as much as your parents, either.

Marcus laughs. “Sounds like dinner time conversation in the Pike household.” He admits, grinning at the memories. “My mother always believed in ‘healthy’ arguments so we debated early on and often. Even if she agreed, she could take the opposite positions just so we could rationalize what the other view would be thinking.”

“Sounds just like my house growing up.” You snort, though, rolling your eyes. “Hell, it sounds like them now, forget then. I had to negotiate my own damn birthday party because debates and negotiation are how everything gets done in my family.”

“Birthday?” He raises his brows and smiles. “You have one coming up?” He asks, wondering how old you will be. He thinks late twenties but he could get wrong, not exactly remembering the whole spiel on the first family during the election cycle.

“Thirty.” When you nod your head it comes with a slight shrug. “Next month. My parents tend to…it’s Mom, mostly. They make a big deal out of birthdays. And personal achievements. And pretty much anything else they consider important in life. It’s part of their philosophy of uplifting their kids, but it can get…heavy.”

“I get feeling that celebrating is great, but sometimes you would just like to do your own thing?” He asks, tilting his head. “Perfect birthday?” He challenges.

He's completely right, but there is a sort of naked and vulnerable feeling to admitting that he understands you so well this quickly that makes your heart skip and your palms sweat — not necessarily both positive feelings. "Sleep late, pancakes for brunch, then a ball game in the afternoon and dinner with my partner. Anything else that happens is extra, but those are the pillars of the perfect birthday." It's a little bit of a pipe dream, all things considered, but you smile nonetheless. "Oh! And cake. Birthdays have to have cake. Even if it's just a cupcake, it's got to be there."

“That sounds perfect.” Marcus groans, nodding. “Well—I have….” He pauses, wondering if he would overstepping boundaries. “I have season tickets for the Nationals, even if they aren’t my team.” He flashes you a grin. “You’d be surprised how many favors I can pull with a pair of tickets, field level.”

“Honestly? I don’t think I would be. A day at the park is kind of the perfect relaxer. To me, at least. Everything lifts away and you can just breathe.” Laughing, despite yourself, that lift is in your chest right now. Wondering if he’s really offering what you hope he’s offering. “I probably sound silly. But I just…I love going to baseball games. It almost doesn’t even matter who’s playing. It’s the experience of going that I love.”

“Eating ballpark dogs, drinking overpriced beer.” Marcus nods. “Have to get a bag of peanuts, it’s a crime not to.”

“I’m a Cracker Jack girl. Always have been.” It’s nostalgic and silly, and being able to just chat without tension has pulled the anxiety away from your bones. “The people around you are in a good mood, the game is fun, and hopefully you get to go with someone you enjoy. It’s the perfect afternoon, or evening, or whenever.”

“Best way to spend a Saturday night in my opinion.” He flashes you a grin. “Quick, tell the driver to drop us off at the Navy Yard.” He jokes. “We’ll go to the game in formal wear.”

“If I hadn’t promised my mother that I would behave, I might take you up in that.” It draws a groan from you, playful and light, and when you glance out the window to find yourselves pulling up to the White House already, you laugh again. “That was a fast drive.”

This time Marcus does reach over and take your hand in reassurance. “You will be wonderful. I’ve seen you around the inn, you’ve got this.” He squeezes gently and lets go. “You have a natural ability to put people at ease.”

“You’re…incredibly sweet.” This time the pang of guilt in your heart isn’t about how handsome his smile is, it’s how much you want to just hold onto his hand and not let go. It’s about how good touching Marcus felt, even for the briefest second. It’s…about the fact that you haven’t technically broken up with Sam yet because he’s been so sick.

“Thanks.” The smile he gives you covers the resounding gong of disappointment in his heart. Reminding him once again that the seemingly perfect woman for him isn’t available. You are dating an up-and-coming congressman and he’s gone out with Vanessa two more times. Both of you agree that it’s a little awkward how close the playing ‘seven degrees’ goes, but that it shouldn’t hamper the two of them from enjoying the other’s company. “That’s me. Sweet.” He tells you with a grin right as the car comes to a stop.

“Sweet is underrated and underappreciated,” you tell him honestly, waiting for the door to be opened and a hand to appear that will help you out in this enormous dress. “More men should be sweet.”

“I guess that’s true.” He snorts, reaching out to help with the back of the dress so you don’t have any mishaps.

The flashbulbs seem unnecessary, but with the help of the man helping ladies from their cars and Marcus with your dress, you pass through the line of new arrivals in no time. The agent at security checks your name off the list and inspects Marcus’s ID closely even after you hand over your invitation that formally lists both your names, but that’s protocol. Next step is the metal detectors and soon enough you’re being escorted to the receiving line. “Ready?” You ask Marcus quietly, knowing this might be the first President he’s ever met and recognizing that for the important occasion that it is to him.

“I am.” Marcus has met many esteemed members of congress and governors, but a president is a new on for the books. “Are you?” He asks, looking over at you earnestly. “Let me know if you need a break and I’ll need to use the bathroom or something.”

“The receiving line is going to be the most daunting part, I think.” There was some back and forth about whether or not your escorts — you being the kids — would stand with you in line but in the end your father made the case that Alex should be able to have David with him so it was all in. “But I’m okay. This is just going to be a lot of smiling politely as you stand between me and my brother. Probably a lot of telling people your job title. Then we’ll get to eat and drink and that will be worth it.”

“Hopefully no one asks if I can fix a parking ticket for them.” He snorts. “It’s kind of concerning how many people think the FBI can influence traffic tickets.”

“If anybody asks that,” you lend him a smile and slip your hand into his arm again. “You just refer them to me. I can’t do anything about it either, but they’ll either feel special or laugh.”

Marcus laughs as you guide him towards the small room where he assumes the family is assembled before the beginning of the dinner.

"There she is!" It's your father who spots you first, pulling you forward and into a tight hug as an attendant nearby takes your coat and Marcus's as well.

"Hi Dad." It's not as if you didn't see them just last night, but really and truly — everyone is nervous. "Everybody, this is Marcus." The ‘be nice’ is implied, but only because you said it explicitly last night. "Marcus, this is...everybody. My Father, my little sister June, my brother Alex, David and his brother Noah, and...of course...my Mother."

“Nice to meet you all.” Marcus doesn’t fawn over your mother, giving them all a warm smile and reaching out with a handshake for them all. “Junie, right?” He asks the younger girl, smiling when she hums and nods. He greets Alex and David by name as well, making your brother shoot you a questioning look before he moves on to your mother and father. “Your daughter has nothing but wonderful things to say about all of you.” He assures your father and then your mother. “Her pride in her family is obvious every time she speaks.”

“Oh Birdie, you didn’t say he was handsome,” you mother teases, knowing you did not say anything about the young man’s appearance one way or the other. He is your type, though, and she wonders in the way a mother does, if there is anything you haven’t told her. “Special Agent Pike, we are very glad to have you here tonight. My daughter has spoken nothing but wonderful things about you as well.”

“Happy to be here.” He admits, wincing slightly. “Although I hate that the congressman is sick.” He mentions Sam so the family knows that he is aware of your relationship status. “When Birdie called, I was happy to do her the favor.” He wonders at the nickname but doesn’t ask, knowing he didn’t hear it during game night, so it must be a family thing.

“Anybody else ready to embarrass me right off the bat?” The nickname is…less than ideal, given that you still haven’t talked to Marcus about your — potentially shared — tattoo, and you try not to flinch. “Dad? Alex? You guys up next?”

“Relax, Slugger.” Your Father flashes a grin even as he steps forward to shake Marcus’s hand. “We have the whole night to mortify you in front of your friend. No need to rush.”

Marcus laughs and feels at ease in the presence of your family. There’s a very happy sense of unity that is rare. “I promise I won’t hold the embarrassing stories against you.” He promises you with a wink.

“Very gracious of you,” you huff, but it’s all toothless. They’re your family, and even though they’re merciless sometimes, you love them. It keeps you all honest.

“I know.” He likes the fact they all chuckle and move back to your side. “Are there any protocols I need to be aware of?” He asks seriously, shifting the conversation back to the dinner. “I do not want to accidentally cause an international incident.”

“The king and queen are your Majesty the first time, and after that it’s sir or ma’am,” your Father explains, silently approving of the question with a glance and smile in your direction while he talks to Marcus. “Other than that, mind your manners and find any of us if you need a rescue. Birdie has your back and so do we.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence.” Marcus nods and looks over at you. “Ready?”

“Mom?” Of course, she calls the shots. And the fact that she’s here in the room with you and not being escorted from the West Wing straight into the dinner is fairly impressive.

“Let’s line up.” She nods, gesturing for Junie and Noah to be first. “Kids in ascending order, and the king and queen will join us in the ballroom.”

Marcus offers you his arm again, wanting to formally escort you to your position, even if he is a supporting player tonight. Of course he will be written about, but he doesn’t focus on that, this is about the President having a wildly successful first State dinner.

"Madam President." The aide that appears looks official and tense, signaling that the night is ready to begin. There is...what would you call him? An announcer? A man in a tuxedo introducing each of you as you enter the room. When it gets to you and Marcus there is an odd sort of haze on the whole thing, and you swear you're trying not to think too hard about how much you like the sound of your names side by side like that. It feels just like when you were in middle school and doodled your name in your notebook next to your crush's.

Marcus straightens slightly and he reaches over and covers the top of your hand with his gently. “It’s kind of surreal.” He admits, whispering to you.

"The inauguration still feels like a fever dream," you murmur back, squeezing his fingers a little to show support. That you completely agree and understand. "Just smile and look like you're having fun and you'll be fine."

“Would it be wrong if I did enjoy myself?” He asks softly, wondering if you really hated events like this. “Maybe if you pretend to be undercover, it will help make it interesting?”

"It wouldn't be wrong." Once you fall into place beside Alex, you take a deep breath and smile — smiling at Marcus is remarkably easy and you decide not to think about it too hard. "These things...the spotlight, I mean?" You whisper to him, making sure not to move your lips too much so anyone watching can't tell what you're saying. "It just makes me nervous. That's all. I'd be glad if you actually enjoyed yourself."

“I only enjoy myself if my partner does.” Marcus leans in to murmur into your ear, explaining his view. “So it’s my duty to make sure you enjoy yourself.”

"I'll try not to make it too hard for you." The feeling of his breath fanning over your neck should be criminal, and it takes everything in you not to shiver and to lift your eyes to meet his instead of shying away. "But I get the feeling you don't shy away from a challenge."

“Never.” He promises. “Not even if it takes all night.”

He can't have meant it as an innuendo, but for the first time all night you're grateful for the voluminous skirts of your dress. No one has any idea that you just squeezed your thighs together wishing it was. "I'll remember that," you hum, turning to pay polite attention when the President is announced entering the ballroom.

Marcus realizes that it could have been taken another way and straightens as quickly as possible. His cheeks burning and he hopes that he didn’t offend you, even though you don’t seem like the type to easily be offended.

"I hope you can dance, G-man." Alex murmurs from Marcus's other side, quiet enough that you can't hear him and sending your escort a knowing smirk. "The girl has princess fantasies a mile wide." He's thrilled to not see Sam but won't say so until he knows the self-centered Congressman is out of the picture entirely. Instead, he'll play his hand quietly from the sidelines.

Marcus hums and glances over at you as you straighten your spine even more as the doors open. “She certainly looks like one.”

"Attaboy." Your brother laughs softly, giving Marcus an approving nod before he, too, straightens out of respect for his mother.

He can’t respond, but he wonders why your brother would say something like that. Only pondering on it for a moment before there are one thousand flashing lightbulbs making halos appear in his vision.

With the receiving line in place, the guests of honor are introduced next, and they make their way down the line with polite interest. So far, they have only met the President and First Gentleman. When they reach you and Marcus, you curtsy and thank god for all those times you watched The Princess Diaries as a kid. You're at least not blanking out on how to be polite to monarchs.

Once the line starts, it seems like it will never end. Marcus shakes hands and recognizes faces, all of it becoming a surreal blur after a bit. Trying to take the time to check in with you, his hand finds your back and he presses gently, offering comfort when he notices that you shift slightly.

If he had any idea his hand was right over your tattoo, he might have felt differently about the gesture. You can’t know for sure, of course. All you do know is that every time he touches you, you want to wilt into his arms like some ancient damsel and there’s no way to logic yourself out of it. There’s no explanation or reasoning beyond wanting him. But — you remind yourself each time you glance up to meet his eyes and silently tell him I’m okay because you’re here supporting me — he’s dating Vanessa. He’s with someone else and this is just a favor for a friend.

Marcus feels guilty, so fucking guilty because he’s absolutely in-tuned to you. He tries to be observant and thoughtful, but unlike with his ex, or even Teresa and Vanessa, it’s so easy with you. It’s like he can sense your emotions and adjust to them. Hating that he wants to see you look at him like he is wonderful every day and not sure why he feels like you should.

By the time the line ends you aren’t just mentally exhausted, you’re hungry to boot. “I have no idea how many people we just met,” you admit in a whisper, when you take his arm again to be escorted to your seats. Your father had smartly separated each of his children to a different table tonight to cut down on potential shenanigans, so you and Marcus have been placed with a few members of your mother’s staff and a few esteemed guests. There are no judges or members of Congress here, so conversation should stay light and entertaining.

“Three hundred and twenty-six.” Marcus supplies as he walks with you to the table. “And I’m absolutely in need of a roll and a drink.”

“You kept count?” It’s impressive and just a dash nerdy, making you reach for the nearest passing waiter to snag two glasses of champagne in appreciation. “Pretty cool that Antonio Banderas and Javier Bardem came, though. I’m bummed Pedro Almodóvar turned down the invitation.”

“I’ve seen some of his works.” Marcus nods. “He’s a good visionary.” He had been impressed with the foreign dignitaries and celebrities alike, finding it to be slightly overwhelming. “It will be interesting to see who is sat with us.”

“He’s remarkable.” The last few things you’ve seen from the Spanish filmmaker were truly moving, and you had happily dragged Sydney and Juan along to the theater with you. “Apparently he’s working on something new. So he couldn’t be here tonight.”

“I think that’s a good reason to not be available to attend.” He murmurs, smiling slightly as you tip back the champagne. His own is still untouched. “Here.” He offers to exchange glasses.

“You said you wanted a drink?” That had been the entire reason for grabbing the glasses early, and you tilt your head at him. “Don’t worry, there’s a five-course dinner to soak it up.”

“Your glass is empty, though.” He insists. “I can wait for the waiter to come around. You’re still thirsty.” He doesn’t mention that you still seem nervous as well.

“Be careful,” you warn, as playfully as you possibly can while your stomach knots at the thought. “If you’re too good at this I’ll want to bring you to every fancy dinner and party.”

He chuckles, knowing that wouldn’t happen because of your relationship with Sam. The congressman will be the one to escort you next time. He exchanges glasses with you with a smile. “There.”

“Come on.” After another grateful sip, you slip your hand back into his arm and feel that gentle lift of tension again, the same way you’ve felt each time he’s touched you tonight. It goes hand in hand with the fire in your belly. “I see my mother’s deputy chief of staff at our table, but he’ll be up and down a dozen times during dinner.”

He wonders if the seating arrangement was made when he wasn’t attending and Sam was. It would make sense and it’s another reminder that he doesn’t actually belong here, with you. “Then you will have time to relax.” He reasons.

“I’ll be okay.” You can promise him that, despite his attention and seeming insistence to the contrary. It’s like he can sense your nerves, but you don’t want him to miss out on any fun because he’s babysitting you all night.

He doesn’t argue with you, aware that you have more experience in these situations than he does, so he just nods. “Are we sitting down now, or can we escape to the bathroom?”

“I think we have a few minutes, if you need it.” There will be speeches and the like before the first course is served, and there is wiggle room to be found. “Do you need me to show you?”

“Would you mind?” He knows you could probably use a breather, even if you don’t want to mention it. There are a lot of people who fawned over you and your siblings simply because of your proximity to the most powerful person in the country and he imagines it’s exhausting.

“It’s this way.” On the edge of the ballroom in an alcove of sorts, with a Secret Service agent whose name is temporarily escaping you standing by in a tuxedo. “I’ll wait for you. This place is a maze if you’re not ready for it. I got lost in the residence for an entire hour on my first day there.”

“That had to be fun.” Marcus snorts, shuffling slightly. “I don’t really have to go.” He admits. “I just thought you might like a moment.”

“You are…remarkably good at taking care of me.” A fact which is slightly disarming, in as much as it is infinitely comforting. The trouble is that it makes you lean into him in a way that seems far too intimate for the moment. But you’ve chosen not to care if you so much as even think about it for a second. “It is…deeply appreciated.”

“I’m glad you don’t find it annoying.” He admits with a small laugh. “My ex sometimes told me it felt like I was undermining her autonomy.” He quotes.

“She objected to being cared for?” That makes you frown instantly, wishing you could reach back in his past and soothe the hurt left by an ungrateful partner. “I can’t imagine that. At all. Hell, half the time if I didn’t have Syd right there in the kitchen to feed me, I would probably forget to eat. Workaholic’s curse, I guess?”

“Oh absolutely.” He nods. “Sometimes the best feeling in the world is just someone calling up and asking if they should bring home dinner, right?” He asks. “That’s all I was trying to do. My dad would be exhausted after work and he’d still call Mom to see if she felt like cooking or if she wanted him to grill something or pick something up.”

“It’s caretaking.” Something you see so deeply in your best friend’s relationship with her soulmate and you have silently started to wish for yourself. Something that you yearn for the way you see it around you. It’s what your parents always strived for, although they sometimes fell short. Their strengths are elsewhere. “I’m…not used to it,” you admit after a pause. “And I appreciate it. Wholeheartedly.”

“Good.” He flashes you a relieved smile. “Although, if you get annoyed or I overstep, you just tell me, okay? I know it’s not my place, that’s Sam’s, but for tonight, you’re in my care.”

“It’s—” You have to swallow the objection, knowing that it wouldn’t be right to tell Marcus before you even tell Sam what your plans are. And while the impulse to confide in him is deep, you have to wonder if it’s because you might have that soulmate connection, or just because you have a crush. “Just for tonight,” you offer instead, choosing to embrace that with open arms.

He nods and tries not to read anything into it. Hating how he hopes that is longing in your eyes. It’s not fair and he smiles. “Do you need to powder your nose?” He asks teasingly.

“I might as well.” Glancing around, there are eyes everywhere and you know they’re watching. Plus, it would probably do you well to step away from Marcus for a second and calm the fuck down. “Someone is probably watching and it will get remarked on in some gossip column if neither of us does.”

“I can step inside the bathroom then, after you go into the women’s room.” Marcus offers, not wanting to put your reputation on the line.

"If nothing else we should probably wash our hands after that receiving line," you offer, trying to diffuse any tension that surely lives only in your head. "I'll be right back."

“Good call.” He flashes you a smile and waits for you to disappear into the bathroom before stepping into the men’s room. “Get it together, Pike.” He huffs to himself as he stares into the mirror. He had shaved right before you arrived and had gotten a haircut this morning to make sure he looked his best. “You gotta get over this little thing.”

A mere ten feet away, you're staring yourself in the mirror giving yourself almost an identical short, stern lecture and shaking your head. This thing is going to get out of hand. And maybe you can't rein it in completely, but you have to at least behave your damn self until you can properly break up with Sam. Marcus washes his hands and dries them, straightening his bow tie before he steps out of the bathroom to wait for you.

"Let's go back to the table." You appear only a minute later, having lectured yourself silently in the mirror long enough and washed your hands thoroughly for good measure. "My father played with the seating chart a little so there would be some people at the table for you to talk about art with."

“That will be fun.” He doesn’t mean that sarcastically, aware that he learns odd facts and titbits about art.

"Hopefully you mean that." Lending him a smile, you nod your head and put out your hand to him. It's an offering if he wants to take it, and if he doesn't that's okay too. It will probably help you chill the fuck out to have a small gesture rejected, if you're honest with yourself.

He doesn’t think you want to hold his hand, so Marcus takes it, squeezing it gently and then wrapping it over his extended arm. “I get to be formal tonight.” He jokes, sending you a small wink.

In absolutely no way is that a rejection, and your cheeks burn as you absorb that small gesture and walk with him back to the table. You manage to sit just as the speeches are beginning, and survey the table for anyone you recognize while everyone is paying rapt attention to the stage.

Josh, your mother's Deputy Chief of Staff, is seated to your left. Guests you recognize as being staff members at the Spanish embassy are seated on his other side. Beside them are the counselors from the State department who are apparently staples on the White House guest list and have been for the last eight years. You have no idea who they are beyond that, and the random detail that your father mentioned they are foodies. Which makes sense, as they are seated next to famous chef José Andrés and his wife. Considering they are seated next to Marcus, you must deduce that these are the art lovers your father was so glad to introduce to your new escort.

Marcus makes note of the exits, the Secret Service positioned strategically and for a brief moment wonders what it would be like to protect someone like this. He doesn’t know if he has the fortitude for it, becoming emotionally attached to the people he works with. It’s what made him an effective leader but also would make him a poor protector as a career. He glances back at the podium and listens carefully.

The speeches are...a bit endless. After what must be thirty full minutes of gratitude and platitude, well written jokes that are mostly poorly delivered, and even a few self-deprecating cracks, all the speakers seem finally to be done and the waiters pour out of the woodwork with the first course. Every course is influenced by your Spanish visitors and the menu is printed out neatly on a card at every seat, which you know very well you will be keeping in a stack in a shoebox in your apartment as the best keepsake from every single White House event.

“It looks delicious.”

Marcus smiles at the woman who speaks up as the plate is sat in front of her. “I can only imagine the chaos that is occurring in the kitchen.” Marcus replies. “They have been working hard and it shows.”

"Every meal I have ever had from that kitchen has been exemplary," you promise them, knowing that you are currently the table expert on the quality of the White House kitchen. "The whole menu sounds very promising." Gazpacho with garlic shrimp for the first course, and the traditional Spanish tomato soup is garnished with lovely bits of the fresh vegetables that make up the refreshingly cold puree.

“And that is saying something, considering her best friend and business partner is a culinary artist.” Marcus brags. “She eats fantastically every day.”

"Oh?" That catches the attention of the chef sitting two seats over from Marcus. He and his wife both perk up measurably to find those who love food nearby. "Please say more," he chuckles.

"I...run an inn." Apparently you're going to spend at least part of tonight chatting with a world-renowned chef that Sydney is going to be so mad she missed this. "And my best friend is the executive chef of the restaurant on property." The chance to brag on her behalf will absolutely not escape you. "She was just nominated for a James Beard Award, actually. She's absolutely remarkable."

“I can attest to that.” Marcus seconds as he picks up his spoon. “Her food is absolutely incredible. I’ve not had such good food since I was actually in Italy. And it might be better.” He boasts. This is his friend’s wife and better yet, he’s not stretching the truth. Her food is that good.

“Better than in Italy?” Chef Andrés’ eyebrow raises in discerning interest. “We may have to visit. If it is possible?”

“Possible?” You almost choke on air at the request, but manage to hold your composure long enough to nod in a reasonably human manner. “We will make sure that it is possible. It would be an honor.”

“You won’t regret it.” Marcus promises. “You should honestly book a night at the inn. Their brunch is probably my favorite but their dinners are amazing as well.”

“You should hire your boyfriend to do your PR,” Andrés teases, the smile on his lips stretching wider when his wife rolls her eyes in amusement. “If it is as good as you say, I must try it, yes? Bring my wife?”

Marcus chuckles, hating how he almost perks up at being called your boyfriend. “I’m afraid that I’m just a friend.” He explains with a smile. “But I know good food and a charming, romantic atmosphere when I see one.” He tells him. “You take your wife for a weekend and she will be singing your praises.”

The two guests beside him seem to tut at Marcus’s correction but say nothing else on the topic, instead beginning to eat along with the rest of the table after you delicately pass them a business card from your clutch.

“So what is it that you do?” The chef’s wife asks, glancing at Marcus.

“Oh.” He’s a little thrown off by the question but he smiles. “I’m the head of the Art Crimes department for the FBI.” He explains. “We investigate thefts, forgery rings and work with Interpol.”

“How fascinating!” Her eyes light up with the declaration. It obviously isn’t a polite interest, which is nice for utter strangers seated next to each other at dinner. “To investigate these forgeries you must be very well versed in all sorts of art.”

“I have learned my fair share and the some about art.” Marcus admits with a chuckle. “Honestly, sculpture is my favorite. Although there are not a lot of forgeries in that area.”

“I imagine it would be much harder to accomplish,” she agrees, seeming to consider the thought before going on. “Do you create art as well? Or stick to protecting it?”

“I am a phenomenally bad artist.” Marcus snorts and laughs at himself. “Stick figure bad. So I try to just protect the art created by others.”

“I bet you’re better than you think.” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, but you just can’t imagine that Marcus Pike is bad at…well…anything. He seems to radiate positivity and confidence.

Marcus sends you a warm, amused look, positively happy that you would try to protest that. “I’m afraid that my fingers are only good for playing instruments.”

Tutting and rolling your eyes playfully, you nearly huff at him but end up grinning. “You say that as if it’s deficient in some way. Playing an instrument is extraordinary.”

“Three.” He admits with a grin.

“Three?” Your jaw nearly drops out of indignation, as though he were keeping something from you. Which is patently ridiculous. “I only knew about one!”

He bites his lip playfully. “Guitar, bass and….” He snickers quietly. “Violin.”

“No.” When you nearly erupt into giggles you have to stifle it behind your napkin. “That’s discipline! Or did you decide it wasn’t cool enough and that’s why you picked up guitar and bass?”

“Actually….” He shrugs. “There was a girl.” He can look back and laugh now. “She didn’t think playing guitar or bass was ‘real music’ so I made a bet that if I could perform Bach’s Violin Concerto in E Major, she would go out on a date with me.”

The rest of the table has faded into the background, with a hall of focus encompassing you and Marcus entirely. You’re not sure when it happened but everyone else just became a smiling face and white noise compared to the man next to you. “Please tell me it worked. That would be a shame if it didn’t work.”

There’s a flash of something bittersweet, there and gone before most can even register it as Marcus nods. “We were married for three and a half years.” He looks around the table and grins, trying to make sure no one feels sorry for him. “Think that was a good play.”

“Oh.” Embarrassment floods your system immediately and your cheeks burn with it. “It…was your wife. Of course it was your wife. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—that was thoughtless of me.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Marcus is adamant about that, reaching over and patting your hand. “I admire your stance on non-soulmate relationships.” He admits. “Even if my ex wasn’t my soulmate, she’s a wonderful woman and I grew in our relationship together. More people could use that.”

“It’s just that I think everyone should be able to choose,” you admit, having been struggling with the topic as much as you have recently. “This idea of only having one perfect match chosen for you? It doesn’t mean it’s the only way to be happy. My parents are soulmates, my brother has a soulmate, our friends are soulmates — I’m happy for all of them. But not finding your one preordained needle in the haystack of the world shouldn’t mean you don’t get a shot at happiness.”

“No,” Marcus agrees. “Happiness shouldn’t be tied to one person or one thing.” He longs for his soulmate, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t open himself up for others.

“That’s all.” There is no show to put in here. No soapbox to stand on. It isn’t a campaign event or even an interview. It’s just talking — and talking to someone you suspect more and more might be the needle you were meant to search for. “I would love to meet my soulmate,” you admit after another moment. “But I want it to be my choice to love them, not the world’s.”

“If it weren’t for the tattoo, I would wonder if my soulmate existed.” Marcus admits. “The scars, I can’t even remember whose is whose, but…my soulmate doesn’t want to be found and I will respect that.”

“What would make you think they do want to be found?” The idea that whoever is tied to Marcus wouldn’t want to be found by him seems ridiculous now that you know him. But you know that’s personal bias.

“Never been on Mate Marks.” Marcus shrugs. “Not once. Just figured they aren’t interested.”

“Not everyone can be on Mate Marks.” You remind him gently, but deflect right away. “Maybe she’s a movie star.”

“Maybe.” It hurts him in a very raw way so he changes the subject. “Perhaps there’s supposed to be some kind of dramatic meet cute.” He shrugs, turning towards the Chef and his wife. “How did you two meet?”

“She was hanging out with her friends.” Andrés regards his wife with a warm smile. “At my restaurant. Many, many years ago. But I could not take my eyes from her once I saw her. I was—” He pauses for a moment, searching for the word, and then grins when he finds it. “A goner. For such beauty, how could I not be?”

“Love at first sight.” Marcus hums at the romanticism and whimsy of it. “You are a lucky man.” He admits. “There is something so beautiful about that.”

“There are many beautiful ways to fall in love.” The chef contends with a shrug, as if to say any love is good. And he does have a point. “Sometimes the one best suited to us is directly under our nose, sometimes they are a surprise. But always, they are worth finding.”

“Love is always worth it.” On that, Marcus can completely agree. “I’ll drink to that.” His champagne glass has been swapped for a new one and he holds it up. “To love, in all forms.” He offers. “The world is better for it.”

“Here here.” On your other side, Josh raises his glass and the rest of the table follows suit, all of you drinking a toast while your mind begins to work.

Marcus takes a sip, noticing that you look introspective and he wonders if you are thinking about Sam. Instead of prying, he sets his drink down and takes up his spoon again, listening to the conversation start around the table again and this time, it’s not focused on him.

The courses go by like clockwork. Every bite is delicious, every sip of accompanying wine is refreshing. Conversation becomes easy with the rest of the table and as all the guests relax the atmosphere becomes more and more party-like.

Watching your mother begin the dancing with a king is something entirely surreal. There’s something sort of spectacular about seeing this woman that you know as everything from determined to downright silly getting up there and whirling like she hasn’t a care in the world. She glows in that spotlight, soaking it up and radiating the same appreciation back out to the rest of the room — but she only gets brighter when the song changes and your father steps up to take her hand for the next dance.

Marcus watches the First Gentleman bow slightly, the grin on his face making him look years younger and there’s a moment where Marcus is envious. He wants a life like that, a life like his parents have. Love is love and he appreciates that, but he wants love. Vanessa isn’t in love with him, and he’s not in love with her. Not in a way that would have him picking out wedding venues with her. They have companionship and fun. He gets the feeling that she’s trying to get over someone and that’s okay, but he wants to have someone light up when they see him like the President just did for her husband of over thirty years.

As other couples start to join in, you see your siblings join the dance floor — probably to gossip, that's in keeping with a tradition they started when your mother was Governor of Pennsylvania — and your hand twitches on the table wishing you were brave enough to just reach for Marcus like you want to. To find out if he dances as well as you've dreamt that he does. Because that thought has permeated every single dream you've had this week.

It must be a tradition to have the entire first family on the floor and Marcus decides that you won’t break it. He stands and offers you his hand as he moves around the chair. “Shall we join them?”

A shaky breath passes your lips, but your hand settles in his before you can second guess yourself. You want to dance with him and you can dance with him. It isn't overstepping or cheating or anything of the sort. "I promise not to step on your toes," you murmur, not bothering to temper the brightness of your smile. Though that is partially because you really can't feel how much you're glowing in this moment. It's not something you've ever felt before — not like this, at least.

“I have a feeling you are a better dancer than me.” He guides you to the edge of the floor with quiet pride and bows.

"It's just practice." The smile of assurance on your face as the do the formal thing and curtsy never flickers. You take his hand and let him guide you to the floor, knowing that it isn't necessary here for most people to learn ballroom dance. No one is expecting a perfect tango out of the couples on this floor. As long as you and Marcus can make your way around the floor in a reasonable facsimile of a dance, all will be well. "Haven't you seen Sabrina? Just pretend you're David Larrabee."

Marcus smiles as he steps close and settles his hand on your waist. “Did I mention my father insisted that I learn to dance?” He asks as he starts to move to the song. “Dancing helps coordination.”

"How could I possibly be a better dancer than you now?" Have you had lessons? Sure. Of course you have. All three of the First Kids of Pennsylvania took them so as not to embarrass their parents at formal events. But all that knowledge seems to leave you in a flash with Marcus holding you close like this. You're pretty sure you even forget how to breathe for a second. "Is there anything you can't do? And don't say art, because I still don't believe you."

“It’s really bad.” He promises with a laugh. “I never graduated beyond first grade stick figures.”

"Well..." As the two of you begin to turn in time with the music, the breath returns to you only to be whisked away again with every turn. "Your dancing is..." With your cheeks burning again, you feel like you can barely look him in the eye. "It's top notch, I promise."

“Then the lessons paid off.” Marcus laughs. “Dad said they would. Didn’t believe it when I was seven, but now I see the light.”

“If I ever meet your Dad, remind me to thank him.” Whoever the couples around you are, whatever the band is playing, you can’t find it in yourself to care. Everything about this moment is perfect, and there really is no talking yourself out of it at this point — this crush you have on Marcus Pike is officially out of hand.

He smiles and nods, no comment needed as he sweeps you around the dance floor and he tightens his grip on you. “Hold on.” He warns, right before he dips you low.

A collective gasp from the room full of spectators is followed by titters of laughter and exclamations then punctuated by applause, but you are holding on. You’re holding on to Marcus with an iron grip on his shoulders, laughing in your own right but it’s disbelief and a sort of bubbling giddiness that you can’t quite describe. It’s all-consuming just like your focus on him, so much so that you don’t even notice the flashbulbs going off in the ballroom.

It’s been a long damn time since he could say that he has had this much fun dancing. You are a great partner, seeming to fit into his arms perfectly. Moving with him naturally and his matching grin when he pulls you upright is beaming.

“I—” What can you really say? If you weren’t in a room full of people and if you weren’t still technically in a relationship, that’s the kind of move that would have you reaching up to kiss him in a heartbeat. As it is, you barely manage to stop yourself from licking your lips a little at the thought. His eyes and his smile are brilliantly bright and you wish you could just let your pounding heart speak for itself. But all that comes out as he starts to whirl with you again is “Wow.”

“You like that?” He asks, even though his tone makes it clear he is aware of your astonishment and delight. “Figured you needed a moment where you can look back and pretend that you were the princess at the royal ball.” He jokes. “The glass slippers are in another room though.”

“You’re never getting out of this,” you tease, feeling the burning in your cheeks even as you get your footing back, and with your eyes still locked in Marcus. “Four more years of these things if you’re going to dance with me like that. Get ready, Pike.”

He could tell you that he would gladly dance with you, but he doesn’t. He just laughs and steps away so he can twirl you around.

All it does, besides give you that feeling again of being a princess floating on air, is seal how doomed you really are in your mind. When your twirl back into Marcus’s arms, you swear you actually sigh outright. It’s all just too dreamy and you’re forever in Sydney’s debt for making you ask him.

The song is quickly coming to an end, and Marcus is aware there are too many speculative eyes on the two of you, so he doesn't spin you or dip you again. He doesn't want to cause issues with Sam, just enjoying the dance with you and got a little carried away. His mother would accuse him of subconsciously showing off and that might be true, but he brings you to a stop when the music ends and hates that he hates when his hands slide away from you so he can clap politely. "Sorry." He hums as you both clap. "Got a little carried away."

“You never need to apologize for having fun.” You assure him, knowing that you certainly aren’t sorry for your part in it.

"I'm sure the press corps absolutely loved it." Marcus laughs. "At least your Agent Bailey didn't think I was attacking you. That would have been mortifying, being tackled to the floor for dipping you." It's a joke, not particularly a good one, but he needs to get over this feeling of rightness. To distract himself from the want of pulling you close and pressing his lips to your stained ones. Obviously he needs to not do that and corny jokes puts a little distance from him and that thought.

“Don’t let Bailey fool you. She’s a softie.” The other half of that thought is that she would never mistake a romantic gesture, but it’s just wishful thinking to one dance to be a romantic interlude.

The music has a thirty second delay to allow dancers to join or exit the floor and in that time, Alex comes up to the pair of you. "May I cut in?" He asks, standing beside Junie and David's brother that Marcus hadn't caught his name. "David doesn't want to dance, for obvious reasons."

“The reason is his two left feet,” you tell Marcus with a knowing grin. “I’ll be right back. Unless everyone mobs you for a dance after what they saw you can do.”

"I'll dance with him." Junie offers with a matching grin towards her sister. She hadn't missed the dreamy look in your eyes and wants to see if it was because of the dance or the man. "If you don't mind?"

Marcus shakes his head and looks towards her date for the evening. "May I?" It might me a little archaic, since Junie has full autonomy over who she dances with, but it was polite manners who ask the escort for their blessing and Marcus was nothing if not polite.

“Go for it,” Noah’s answering nod is easygoing, and he has to admit he’s curious too. There is speculation amongst them now and he wants to know what Junie has to say after dancing with him.

Marcus offers his hand to Junie, bowing just like he had with you before sweeping the younger girl into his arms. "Your escort is a friend?" He asks, curious since he looks so much like David.

“Pretty much family at this point,” Junie confirms, taking the elegant bow to mean that she should attempt a curtsy just before she gets pulled into the dance. She wobbles a little but makes it. “He’s Alex — our brother’s — best friend’s little brother.” Not being sure how much you may have told FBI Marcus Pike about Alex or the family, she carefully doesn’t say more. “So we’ve known each other a long time.”

"It's a shame that David has a case of the left feet." Marcus glances over at the table where the law student is passionately talking to a judge that had been seated with them. "Hopefully Noah is not the same?" He admires the protectiveness of the younger girl's tone and approves of it wholeheartedly. You protect family and that’s something special amongst siblings.

“Not at all. That’s why he’s here.” She laughs at that, realizing it’s silly, but doesn’t quite care. “We all had to have someone with us for this one, and I’m not much for the dating scene so Noah gave me a rescue. He’s basically my other brother.” The steps are easy enough to be led through, or else Marcus Pike is a very good lead, and June turns with him a few times before she starts thinking that smile on her big sister’s face was about the dance as much as the man. He’s good, but he’s not Fred Astaire, so it has to be a combination.

"Very nice of him." Of course there would be a million different selfish reasons why he would want to come, but it's also a very nice gesture. "Friends that are family are the best." He agrees.

“Firmly agree.” June nods with authority, holding on tight as Marcus turns her around in the dance. She can see why you liked this so much — those fairy tale fantasies you think are secret must have loved being twirled around a ballroom.

There is a moment where Marcus could dip June, but he doesn't. He knows that people are speculating and he keeps a respectable amount of distance between him and your younger sister. Knowing that it could be taken out of context if someone really wanted to stir up trouble. He does spin her though, making her laugh as he pulls her out of it.

“Oh, you’re going to get yourself invited to all of these,” she laughs. It’s a little archaic in her opinion, but a pretty face with good manners and talented dancing shoes is like an endangered species at these things. Especially one who passes the background checks. “Did Birdie tell you about her birthday yet?”

"She did." Marcus laughs. "Talked about having to negotiate." He wonders at the nickname again and glances over to where you and Alex are dancing and laughing together. "Where did the nickname Birdie come from?" He asks. "I've only heard family use it."

“She was a giant ornithology nerd when she was a kid,” June explains easily, not thinking any of the question. “Bird feeders everywhere in the backyard of the house in Philly. There’s a bunch at the inn, too. She even got a bird tattoo when she was old enough. Mom freaked out.”

Marcus doesn’t stiffen, which is a credit to his undercover training. But he’s instantly on alert. You have hummingbird feeders at the inn. “Oh?” He manages to keep his tone causally interested. “What type of bird?”

“It’s this hummingbird and flowers design that she got on her back.” June shrugs again, even in the dance. “Why would you get a tattoo on your back where you can’t see it? That never made any sense to me.”

“On her shoulder?” He asks, even though he knows the answer. “Shoulder tattoos are pretty popular. You can show them off or cover them up.”

June snorts, lowering her voice. “Who even gets a tramp stamp anymore? Her shoulder would have been way better.”

It’s like the world fucking stops when he hears June’s confirmation of what he had suspected. You are his soulmate. The undeniable attraction and need to be around you is suddenly explain. Though, you had to have known, and worse, you kept it a secret. Marcus feels his heart clench, although he smiles and chuckles at the horror on the younger girl’s face. “Easy to conceal.” He offers, making it seem like his whole world hasn’t shifted off its axis. He’s hurt, deeply, but he cannot make a scene - nor would he.

The song ends either in the nick of time or far too soon, and a Junie thanks Marcus for the dance before trotting off to disappear into the crowd and out of sight. This is a very easy room to disappear in, after all.

Marcus needs a drink, but he waits on the side of the dance floor as Alex brings you over. “Nice dance?” He asks.

“Nice enough.” Alex had talked your ear off about something David said at dinner and then asked a million questions about Marcus, so you’re feeling a little warm in the cheeks and a little knotted in your stomach. “You?”

“Absolutely.” He paints a smile on his face and offers his arm as he turns you from the dance floor. “Your sister is a charming young woman.” He compliments. “I need a drink, how about you?”

“Please.” What you need is courage, after talking to Alex, and a drink is that in liquid form. “And…I wanted to ask you something? If that’s okay.”

“Your sister has already warned me I will the attending these from now on.” Marcus jokes, although he’s not sure he would want to attend. To know that you were aware of the potential soulmate connection and not breathing a word of it hurts in a way he cannot describe. Especially after the conversations you’ve had about choices. You’ve taken his own choice away from him in a sense.

“Yeah…” A huff of a laugh comes out of you, and you take Marcus’s arm to walk away from the dance floor but it isn’t as relaxed as before. You have to wonder if more of this sounds that terrible to him. Or more of you? “Dad said that any friend we have who was a good dancer was going to end up on all the invitation lists by default.”

“Of course.” A subtle, slapping reminder of what he is to you goes a long way to not saying something. The bar is thankfully devoid of too many people and he quickly looks towards you. “What will you have?” He asks politely.

“A Manhattan with Statesman?” You glance over at the bartender and he nods and sets to work. Asking Mar is what you want to ask is so loaded and terrifying that you really are going to need that courage.

“And I’ll have a triple Statesman on the rocks.” Marcus adds, knowing that a double won’t be enough.

"Was Junie really that bad?" you tease. But if the answer is yes you'll be furious.

“No, she was wonderful.” Marcus assures you. “Nothing to worry about at all.”

“I wondered if I could ask you something?” You’re practically shaking in your heels, but you may never get the courage to ask again and short of straight out asking to see his tattoo, this is the next best thing for confirmation. “At dinner you said you have scars? Yours and your soulmate’s and you’ve sort of forgotten whose is whose?”

“Yeah?” There’s no way you can know how the casual question rips him apart but he shrugs slightly and tilts his head curiously at you. “They are old.”

“Like from when you were a kid?” The ache in your chest is undeniable, wanting so badly for him to confirm things for you. The scar from when your appendicitis operation is fairly unique. The surgeon must have desperately needed new glasses or worse.

“I know the scar right here is from my soulmate.” He points to his side and shrugs. “Assuming their appendix burst or something.”

The smallest breeze in the world could knock you over right now. A single breath would be enough, but neither you nor Marcus seems to be breathing at the moment. The only noise between you is the pounding of blood in your ears and the dull thud of two glasses hitting the bar beside you which knocks you out of your trance. “Appendicitis sucks,” you manage to murmur ineloquently, and rummage frantically for a tip in your clutch.

“I’ve never had it, so at least there’s not a double scar.” Marcus hums, watching you search through your bag. “I’ve got it.” He promises, reaching to his wallet and pulling out a bill.

“Thank you.” Even a few seconds to shut your eyes and take a drink isn’t enough to steady you, but you have to fake it. Right now you’re shaking like a leaf. “Soulmates are…they’re interesting…” you manage, trying your best not to just burst out with it in the spot. You have to break up with Sam first, you tell yourself over and over.

“Sometimes.” Marcus agrees, wondering why you are talking about this now. Is it to rub it in? To test him? He picks up his drink and takes a sip.

“I’m sorry.” Taking your drink away from the bar, concentrating on not spilling it will help you not shiver or shake as much, but you still shake your head. “I guess I’m…distracted. And that’s not fair to you.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Marcus promises you softly, wondering why you are having such an extreme reaction right now. Like you are having an internal crisis. “I’m here for you.”

“You can’t possibly know how much that means to me.” And how much it makes you ache in turn. How much you wish he would be there for you as a partner. As a lover. But he might not even want you. Just because you’re soulmates — there it is, you’ve admitted it to yourself — doesn’t mean he will choose to be with you. He might be ecstatically happy with Vanessa.

He smiles and takes another sip of his drink, honestly unsure of what to say right now. Taking a drink seems like the safest option and he wishes he were brave enough to down the smooth whiskey in one belt and order another.

There really was a solid chance that you would be able to keep your head on straight but then you looked at him again. The way your resolve crumbles in the face of those big, brown puppy eyes is laughable. “I decided I’m breaking up with Sam,” you blurt out, instantly squeezing your eyes shut and berating yourself internally for it.

He’s nearly spitting his whiskey out when you say that, choking slightly and coughing. “I— I’m sorry.” He murmurs, patting himself on the chest. “I hope that it’s not because I came with you to the dinner?”

“What! No. No…I—” You can’t say it has nothing to do with him because that’s a lie. Meeting Marcus was the catalyst that led you to the decision. Meeting Marcus has been tumultuous and eye opening. “The decision has been coming for a little while, I think.”

“Okay.” He is relieved about that. “The last thing I wanted was to cause issues with you and the congressman.”

“And I don’t want to cause any between you and Vanessa.” As much as you may wish he wasn’t seeing her, it isn’t for you to decide. His life is his choice, entirely and completely.

It’s interesting that you would say that. Considering that he’s never said anything beyond inviting you to dinner. “You won’t.” He promises.

“Right.” The confidence he says it with makes you feel utterly small, and you force yourself to laugh just so you don’t say anything else stupid. “Of course not. That was a silly thing to say.”

“It’s not silly.” Marcus doesn’t like the way you seem to deflate slightly. “I just mean we are all adults.”

“Yes. We definitely are.” The way it stings your heart is very real, but this is not the time or the place to feel that feelings in its entirety. Instead, you remind yourself to smile and calmly sip your drink.

It feels like the night has gone sideways for multiple reasons and Marcus isn’t sure why. He finishes his drink and looks over at you. “Need another?”

“I’d rather dance again,” you admit. But it’s partially because you know you shouldn’t have too much to drink. That wouldn’t be a good look when so many eyes are on you.

“Then let’s dance.” He sets his empty glass down and offers his hand to you again.

______

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #love triangle

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